#still at n.3 in the ranking but it's more top three now and not top two/whatever the f*ck is going on in that corner

[theinfinitedivides]

Not Ramaiya Vastavaiya is Jawan's equivalent of Jhoome Jo Pathaan with a hint of Besharam Rang!Spanish era and (i will swear by this) Tattad Tattad energy thrown in for good measure. i am trying to come up with coherent thoughts bc anything i could put on the internet rn will land me in horny jail but i am calling that sh*t out when i see it

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

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You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

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Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

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Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

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You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology: Me & My Dog

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

Jake Kiszka x f!reader and Josh Kiszka x f!reader

A/N: This will be at least three parts! This first part is more about Josh and the reader, the second will be more Jake and then we will see with part 3 what is to happen. Please let me know what you think with comments and reblogs and messages to my inbox!! I want to talk about this bc I have been so excited to share it!!

Word Count: 5.4k | Warnings: alcohol consumption, strong language, allusions to sex - minor descriptions of sex but not descriptive smut (still 18+!!), dubious comprehension of angel/demon mythology, like this is fiction fr so if it does not make sense i am sorry but idc (but am also open to suggestions thx)

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Part 1: My & My Dog

When being told to stir up some trouble on Earth, Y/N was more annoyed that she had to go back at all than excited that she was moving up in the ranks. Afterall, she’d only died 50 years ago. It was already time to go back? She thought she had eternity down here. 

From what she’d heard from other members of the underworld, it’d just gotten worse since she’d left. Prior to 1976 had been a riot for her (1976 was not her favorite, but dying usually wasn’t in people’s top ten greatest moments), but now it sounds worse than Hell itself.  

Still, like a good little demon soldier, she trudged through the dim back rooms to find the dull office that would provide her with the necessary documents to take a corporeal form and inhabit the physical sphere for an extended period of time. 

“Can I bring my dog?” She asks, kicking at a piece of garbage on the floor. It littered the entire ground around her feet. 

“Dog?” The servant of hell inquired. 

“Chupacabra,” She corrects.

“Sure,” Their eyes raise from filling out the paperwork to the little animal beside her. “Extra form you need to both sign. Says he’ll suck the blood of at least five animals per earthly week while he’s there. We don’t do ESAs here.”  

“Fab,” She sighed in relief and scratched behind the ears of her dog that she had re-encountered shortly after arriving in Hell. 

The chupacabra placed his paw in some mysterious blood that had formed in the pewter catch-all dish sitting beside the papers and then pushed it onto the form. Signed, sealed and soon to be delivered. They were getting out of Hell. 

-

When she materialized on Earth, she wasn’t sure where she was exactly. The home office didn’t give that information, you just had to figure it out yourself. She had been hoping for her hometown of Los Angeles or another major city center she’d never been to before. Maybe London or Tokyo would be a fun change of pace. 

After walking what felt like 20 miles, but was probably half of that given that she wasn’t used to physical legs anymore, she came upon a sign as to where she was. A mural to be exact. 

It had only been woods and fields for the first half, but then there were more buildings. Coffee shops, bagel shops and something that was called a ‘Vape’ shops. Everything advertised themselves as historic music sites. But it wasn’t until 1504 Demonbreun St. that she fully ascertained she was in the heart of Nashville, Tennessee. 

“Welcome to Nashville”

“Fuck yeah,” She smiled. A friend back in the day had been from here and told her about it a few times. It wasn’t a major capital city or home, but it was a city alright. And where there was nightlife, she was sure there could be trouble. 

She spent the rest of the day checking around her surroundings. Finding the place Hell had given her to lodge in. It wasn’t much but she remembered earthly delights and planned to spruce it up, give it a vibe. She wrote a note on the wall with a deep red pen she had brought with her a list of items she needed. Couch, rug, bed, posters, an electric guitar and lots of wine and clothes. The ink dripped down the wall and she smiled, swiping at it and placing it to her lips. 

She passed the rest of the daylight hours with great displeasure for the living people around her who barely seemed to notice her. Not that she looked any different than them, but it just bothered her that no one was as friendly as when she’d last been here. No one bothered to say ‘hello’, all they did was stare or talk into their rectangular devices she had realized were portable telephones half way through the day. 

Broadway St. seemed to be the place Y/N thought she’d find the most possible trouble. It was lit up like the Sunset and if it weren’t for all the horribly dressed people surrounding her, she would’ve felt right at home. 

At one of the bars, she got free shots from the bartender with a flash of her eyes. From the regular dark brown iris, they flashed an entire eternal glassy black. He smiled dreamily in the abyss and walked away after she winked at him. She swung back the shots and made her way to the dance floor. 

Raising her hands above her head, she began to dance. Her black lace dress hugged her curves and shifted with her. Her silver jewelry glinted dangerously as she moved. The lights in the bar shifted to stay red instead of the flashing multi-colors that had bothered her when she entered. She moved her hips to the music and slowly it transformed from a poppy song she didn’t know to Led Zeppelin. 

Robert Plant’s voice got everyone dancing the way they should and the vapes transformed into cigarettes and she smiled to herself feeling alive for the first time in a long time. Maybe being back wasn’t so bad. She drank more and danced more and saw people getting drunk and making out in corners and thought debauchery worked as trouble. Job done for the day. 

She relaxed into the sway of the music, writhing around like a snake as her skin grew dewey with perspiration. A tug at her arm brought her out of her euphoric state. All night she had made sure no one would bother her, but whoever this was didn’t seem to follow her rules. 

She opened her eyes, fully black once more as she stared at who was holding her wrist. She tugged back but his hold was secure. He pulled her to the side of the dancefloor, a space conveniently opening up. 

“Get your hands off me! What the fuck, man?”

“You can’t be here,” He spoke calmly. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. He had on a white plain t-shirt and light wash jeans, with opalescent beads hanging around his neck. His eyes were an oddly familiar light brown. His hair was shaved on the sides, creating a sort of mullet that she mildly appreciated if he hadn’t been so rude as to pull her away from her fun. That mullet exposed the golden earrings in his pointy ears. 

There was something different about him. None of it was in his physical form but she felt it, vibrating and extending around him. As if he had invisible light passing around and through him even in the dark dingy bar lighting. 

“Says who?” She finally tugged her arm free from his hold and crossed her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts up in the process. 

His eyes flicker to the movement before pressing his lips into a thin line “Says me.” 

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “And you are?” 

“Joshua. I protect this town," he says. He wrings his hands around the gold bracelets on his wrists. “You can’t come into these bars and just mess with everything about them. It’s wrong.” 

“Yes I can, Josh,” She smirks. “I’m a demon as you clearly already can tell. I can do whatever I want.” 

“Oh my God,” Josh sighs, exasperated already. “There’s already a demon here.” He knew the other one quite well and was at least able to keep him in check. A newcomer would mean more work. 

She shrugged. “Not my problem, angel. Hell sent me up here, guess they’re not happy with the other one’s performance.” 

She moved to go back to the bar for another drink when Josh looked like he was a million miles away. He’d really killed her buzz. Josh’s mentioning of another demon made her stop and ask as an afterthought: “What’s this other demon’s name?” 

“Jacob–er, uh, Jake,” Josh corrects himself. He hadn’t gone by Jacob since, well, since before, even if Josh wished he could just call him Jacob. 

“Groovy.” Her smile is wicked, her lips painted a red so deep it resembled dried blood. “Displeasure meeting you, angel. Come find me if you ever want to have a real good time.” She kissed his cheek before disappearing behind a group of people. 

-

Two weeks later, Y/N was seated on a bench in the park with her legs kicked up. She looked like she was a dead body–which more or less, she was, but the way she was sitting was unusual for someone who was supposedly alive. Her dog was perched unnaturally along the backrest, soaking in the sun he had missed. They looked out of place. 

She had come out in the midday to see if she could start any fights in the park. She’d quickly learned that malfunctions with their little handheld phones really upset the modern humans so she liked to mess with wifi and electrical connections every odd day or so just to keep up the no-good work. 

Her black RayBans covered her eyes as they surveyed the green grass for potential targets for a bit of a row. She sat as far away from the people as possible, so she had enhanced her vision as if using a zoom function. But soon something white blocked her vision. 

“Angel,” She practically growled. Her dog actually growled, sitting up. 

“Mind if I sit,” Josh asks pleasantly, eyeing the dog with caution. It looked like a normal dog, but a clip in his right ear and a strange red shimmer in his eyes made Josh think there might be something hellish about him. 

She took her feet off the bench and pushed her sunglasses up off of her face. “Finally want a taste of what you’re missing?” 

“No,” he states flatly. His eyes were still wandering between the creature and the demon. She was dressed in all black, typical. The dog was between cream and the lightest brown he’d ever seen, atypical. “Is this your dog?” 

“Yeah.” She smiles softly for the first time. Her hand goes to pet him between his ears and down his small snout. “He was waiting for me in Hell back’n the day. They made him a chupacabra for me as a ‘Welcome to Hell’ present.” 

Josh’s eyes widened in surprise. What had she done in life to receive a present in Hell? “They like you down there?” 

“Eh…I think I’m just a descendant of many a troublemaker. They knew I’d be an asset, especially when I arrived so early.” 

Her dog slipped into her lap. For a moment, he shifted as he stared at Josh. Big ruby eyes glowered at him, all his hair was gone, leaving something more resembling a pale soft dog-rat. Disturbing and wretched, nonetheless. He wrinkled his nose at Josh. 

Josh tried to smile, feeling awkward. Jake had insisted he find this demon Josh had encountered, needing more information about whether he was really in trouble or if it was procedural. Why Jake wouldn’t do it himself, Josh never got as many answers as questions he asked. 

“Do either of you have names?” 

She grinned. “Is this twenty questions? Why so interested in me?” 

“Just want to get to know my opposition,” Josh says lightly, praying for her to feel extra kind today. Afterall, she was a demon who was originally human and it was only a little while ago from what she seemed to like. He was pretty sure she’d only been down in Hell for 50-60 years, that was barely a human lifetime—and yet it was longer than hers. Far less than Jake. Maybe he could neutralize her, get her to see the bright side. 

“His name is Rune, now, but it used to be Rori.” She rubs over the dog’s hair, happy that he was softer on Earth. “He responds to both–for me. Not sure what he should be called now we’re back.” 

Josh waited patiently. The breeze was cooler than usual and looking at her, he had to assume it was her as well. She seemed far too powerful for a run-of-the-mill demon who used to be human. But she also seemed extremely unlikely to answer his questions if he got too personal. 

With her eyes uncovered, Josh watched them move around as she thought about something. It was almost like she was tracking something or doing some long form math equation in her head. Like she didn’t know what her name was and was looking for the answer. 

“Mine…well, now you can call me Sal.” She winks and Josh straightens in his seat, feeling strange. “Gonna write about me in your diary now, Joshua?” 

Josh pretends to laugh with a clipped “ha ha.” She smirked again, sliding closer to Josh on the bench. Rori grew annoyed and hopped off her lap, slinking off to climb a tree in hopes of finding a squirrel. Sal extended a delicate hand to Josh’s shoulder, beginning to play with the fabric of his shirt. He smiled tightly, not having anywhere to go if he wanted more answers. 

“You said you arrived early?” Josh’s voice is high as he feels her touch moving down his arm. Thankfully, being an angel kept him from feeling her entire influence, but her physical touch was enough to feel something…unholy. He didn’t want to imagine her abilities on mortals. “What did you mean?” 

“You’re fun,” She beamed. “If I show you some tricks I picked up in Hell, will you show me something?” 

“It depends what you want to see,” Josh tries to be diplomatic. 

Her head throws back in laughter. “Not that. No, I want you to want me to see that.” Her hand wanders to his wrist and toys with the bracelet before slinking to his thigh. Her voice was low and sultry, lips pressed to his ear. “Desperately.” 

Josh was starting to feel like he might have to leave. His breathing had turned shallow and he couldn’t stop staring at the carnelian stone hanging between her breasts. Her hand’s touch left him and she laughed again bringing him out of his reverie. 

“Hell, you’re pretty cute…I was a 27 club member.” She shrugged, turning away from Josh to stare out at the people again. “Had my heyday in the late 60s/early 70s and went out the same way I lived. Fast.” 

Josh thought about the 60s and the 70s. He’d admit those decades were a bit of a guilty pleasure for him. Nashville had been fun, not as crowded. He watched her again, seeing her eyes narrow looking at the couples and the groups of friends. 

“You weren’t from here?” 

“LA. Broadway’s kinda like the Sunset Strip, just a bit more loser-y…NashVegas, just like Liv said.” 

Josh was about to protest, but refrained, letting her reminisce. She did miss her friends from back then. They’d gotten up to so much trouble. Sometimes too much. 

“Best of times, worst of times kind of thing y’a dig?” She tapped the heel of her boot like she was trying to shake off something unpleasant. “Just glad I had my dog for most of the time. He followed me everywhere and everyone’d let ‘im in because he was such a doll. Died ‘bout three years ‘fore me.”

The more she spoke the more her accent of a bygone era of California popped up. Josh couldn’t deny how sweet she sounded when she spoke about that thing, demonic as the pair of them were. 

“How long’ve you’ve been up–er, down here?” She asked, barely realizing she had to correct for him. 

Josh cast his eyes to the sky, thinking. “Since the beginning. That’s like, 8000 human years, I believe.” 

“Get the fuck outta town!” She exclaimed, jumping in her seat to face him. Her eyes were alight with hellfire. “You’re a proper angel then?” 

Josh chuckled. “They don’t really take new hires upstairs, I’m afraid. Only very special occasions. It doesn’t happen much these days.” 

She regarded him for a moment, inventorizing him again now that she deemed him far more interesting than before. “Yeah, I was on a special list when I came down. Only a few others in my line, everyone else had to wait in this huge waiting room. It was…repulsive and I’ve been in the alley behind the Whisky.” 

Josh tilted his head, looking over her once more. He felt like he should know her, but he couldn’t understand from where. She looked so familiar. Her hair seemed to shift every so often and he couldn’t be sure if it was the light or mood dependent. He didn’t prod at her mentioning the special treatment in Hell, didn’t want to alert her to the fact, that from what he knew, that was extremely rare.

“Have you told your demon friend about me yet?” She asked.

“He’s not my friend,” Josh responds automatically. 

Her eyebrows raise as she turns her head back to him, scanning him for understanding. A killer upon its prey. 

“Secret lover?” She guesses. 

Josh can’t hide his face of disgust. “Jesus! No!”

“Homophobic?” She asks with a look of distaste. Not being for the gays was so not groovy. Half the musicians she hung out with back in the day were gay. And she wasn’t one for choosing when it came to sexuality. 

“No!” Josh cries. “I am more than an ally to that cause, not that angels really have sexualities…it’s just.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck confusion. “He was, is–I don’t know, my twin.” 

“Oh!” She beams, eyes once again lighting up in intrigue. She enjoyed learning things, it helped for using it against people at the end of the day. “So he’s also a proper demon. Fell and all that.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He sounded pained, as if he was reliving the entire thing. 

“Wow…” She blows out a breath. “That must be funky.” 

She continued when Josh said nothing. “Y’know ‘cause he’s your brother but also he’s–” She finished her statement by sticking her pointer fingers through her hair and wiggling them around. 

“Yes, I am aware.” Josh shakes his head. 

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, revealing her stomach below the flowy lace top she was wearing. “Great catch up, I guess, angel. Wanna trade tricks later? I’ve already worked through most of the main bars here and I’m getting bored.” Nothing was keeping her interest, since every place she had to transform into her liking. 

“You want to hang out with me? You want to hang out with an angel?” 

She grinned, turning around herself once before dropping her arms and stalking back towards Josh, standing directly in front of him. She leaned over him, watching him straighten his neck and swallow thickly. His eyes flickered from her face to the carnelian again. 

“Everyone else is too easy around here. I need a challenge.” Her lips were right in front of his. “You seem like the perfect remedy for a wayward soul like me.” 

-

Josh wasn’t exactly sure why he agreed to meet the demon at some speakeasy she said she needed to try. He wasn’t fully sold on calling her ‘Sal’, something about it felt off to him. She didn’t even really seem to care for it either. Jake, he knew, was vehement that he wished to be called Jake. 

Jake was probably why he had come to the back door of a pizza joint that was actually the door to the underground speakeasy. He’d asked for more information on her. When Josh had inquired why Jake couldn’t just do it himself, his twin finally fessed up that he was actually not currently in Nashville at all. Leaving the heavy lifting to Josh, like always. 

Begrudgingly, Josh entered another bar with plans to meet a demon. Heaven forgive him. It was smokey inside the brick-walled cavern. Small candles lit the tabletops and narrow bar top. A small dance floor was packed as people danced slowly to a jazz band. In the corner of the room, he saw her hair almost glowing in the dark and he made his way over. 

She was dressed in a black pantsuit, with no undershirt, just a black lace bra and her same necklace. Rori wasn’t present, from what Josh could see, but based on their conversation earlier he had a feeling the demon dog was around, lurking. 

She groaned when she saw what Josh was wearing. 

“Angel, man, do you have any other clothes besides that?” She shook her head in disappointment. 

“Of course I do,” Josh huffed, looking down at his clothes not understanding what was wrong with them. 

“Change.”

“I can’t perform miracles just to change my outfit. That’s wrong.” 

“That’s wrong, it’s wrong,” She parrots what she thought was becoming Josh’s mantra. “God, Heaven sounds so stifling.” She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers with impatience.

In an instant, Josh was dressed in a red velvet jumpsuit with sequins around the neckline. His arms were on full display, muscles bulging while the velvet hugged his torso and lengthened his height. He smooths at his hair and feels something come off his skin. On his hand, he sees glitter. He looks at her again and then down at his new clothes. She was eyeing the bulge veering to his right thigh. 

“Much better.” She grins. 

Josh rolls his hand in front of him quickly, almost like a benediction, and once again his outfit has changed. Now, he was in a cream and grey jumpsuit that was far less flashy of his own with his favorite sigil emblazoned on the chest. He left the glitter and sat down. 

Her unamused look makes Josh feel a little hot with shame. 

“A little miracle to make sure I don’t look like a demon can be forgiven.” 

“You looked foxy but whatever.” She rolls her eyes and flicks a hand at the table, producing a bottle of red wine for both of them. “You drink, surely. C’mon, don’t act like your demon brother hasn’t corrupted a few of those precious angel feathers.” 

Josh can’t help the smile that falls over his face. Not sure what was so endearing about her at this moment. The romantic jazz might have something to do with it. He loved jazz. He takes the drink gratefully and they sip in companionable silence. She was subdued. 

With one bottle down, they start a second and this is when she offers to show Josh a trick if he’ll show her something again. He shrugs in compliance, feeling well on his way to drunk. 

“But won’t the other people in here see?” He adds. 

“No, they all know to mind their own business. Plus, it’s dark in here.” She winks and suddenly Josh is staring at only her head. 

He can seriously only see her head and neck. She moves closer to him and now Josh is certain, she’s made her body disappear. She was a dishonest-to-god floating head. Her head glowed gold for a moment as she twirled in a complete 360 to really show herself off. Josh’s eyes were as wide as possible trying not to cry out in amazement. Then the rest of her body reappeared, straddling Josh’s lap. With her arms draped over his shoulder, her all black soulless eyes gazed into Josh’s, practically paralyzing him with her fiery warmth and intensity. 

“So what do you think, angel?” 

“I, uh,” Josh stuttered. He placed his hands firmly on her hips and moved her off of him. “That’s impressive. What’s it good for?” 

“S just fun,” She shrugged, undetered by Josh removing her from his lap. “Let’s dance and then you can show me your wings or something.” 

Josh didn’t have time to protest, as she grabbed his wrist with one hand and their second bottle of pinot noir in the other. 

She took a swig before letting it float in the air beside them. Her body swiveled around the dance floor, placing herself in Josh’s arms as he swayed respectfully. She sighed and sunk into the movement, drinking from the bottle every so often. When the song changed, she turned to face Josh, handing the wine to him. He drank obediently, which she felt was a triumph. 

Hands draped over his shoulders again, she pressed her body against his. He was strong, she could feel his toned stomach. Her regular eyes met his and she tipped her nose against his. He looked stoicly back at her, determined to be friendly but not fall into the trap she was so clearly laying for him. 

“You’ve got so many defenses up,” She whispers. “Why not do what you want for once? Loosen up. Indulge.” 

Josh smiles down at her and moves his lips to her ear. Polite as ever, he speaks soothingly. “I am having a lovely time with you, Sal.”

She groans, pressing his hands to her hips again, where the curve of her ass was. “I can gaurantee you’ve never had what I’m offering you…” 

Josh smiles knowingly, unconvinced. “I’m afraid I’m above your temptations. Is seduction your main area of expertise?” 

She glares at him, but there’s a glint in her eye. She loved the chase. The difficulty. 

“Debauchery in general, but with how many people wanted to have sex with me in my first life I have a specialization in seduction and desire.” 

He shrugs, moving his hands to a respectful place on her waist. His touch is light, but she feels the pressure of his thumbs pushing at the exposed skin. She smirks and snakes her lips up to his ear. 

The gold hoop glints and she flicks her tongue over it. “I could just show you what you’re missing. If you’d allow me to put it in your mind, we wouldn’t actually do it. You’d be in complete control. Halo intact. C’mon just a few images…it’ll be informative.” 

Josh sighs as the tug of her teeth on his earring. She was bad. Terribly good at her job. He understood why she was here. Jake wasn’t even in town. Damn him. If he did his job a little better, Josh wouldn’t be contemplating allowing a demon into even a small recess of his mind. But, Jesus, did he want to just see it. If it wasn’t real, it wasn’t really a sin to indulge. 

She stares at him, waiting for his response. Her hands run over his shoulders and chest. The music swells and Josh’s hands tighten on her waist as he looks up to the ceiling, praying for forgiveness. 

“For educational purposes,” He starts and she grins. “I will allow you to show me how you do your job. So that I may be able to thwart your wrongdoings better.” 

“It’s just a little sex,” She licks her lips. “Igniting passion in people makes more babies for you to teach heavenly values or whatever. God likes sex, Josh.” Her voice is sickening, it was like she was dripping in a delicious scent that Josh can’t get out of his head. Twisting his values and her intentions into something evil that somehow made wicked sense.

He’s been careful to only open up a small piece he knows he can close, but he almost loses his footing when he finally feels her stinging lips on his. She licks into his mouth and he’s about to protest before the images begin to flow through his mind. 

‘Good thing your brother doesn’t have to transfer information like this, huh?’ Sal says within Josh’s mind. 

Guiltily, he feels himself laughing. Though his physical body is still locking lips with her. 

The room she brings him to in his mind is dark, a red lamp in the corner where two bodies are rolling around. Sighs of ecstasy filling his ears. The smell of sex hanging in his nose.

‘You’re really missing out, angel. Could show you the best thing life, and death, has to offer.’ Her voice is softer in his mind. 

The scene changes. He’s staring up at her above him. Her hips are working over him steadily as her naked breasts bounce in front of him, her necklace is the glowing light now. Her voice is sinful as she moans praises for Josh. How good he feels, how big he is, how strong he is. The scene changes and he’s driving into her with her legs over his shoulders, she’s smiling sweetly up at him with her mouth open, repeating his name like a prayer. It shifts and she’s pressed face down in the grey silk pillows, her body spread out for him as he grunts and growls, thrusting ceremoniously into her as she screams for him to keep going. It’s melodic, every bodily sound and the scene of their physical bodies uniting is hypnotic. Like it was pre-ordained that he would fit so well inside her. He feels euphoric as it shifts once more. She is back on top, his hips press up into her as she grinds down. Their faces are pressed together as Josh holds her body close to him. Arms enveloping her fragile frame. The room is quiet as they are pressed skin to skin, her lips meeting his gently. Sharp gasps escape their trembling lips.

‘Okay, enough,’ Josh pushes away from the scene, feeling both aroused and confused. 

In the speakeasy, she pulls back from the kiss with a wipe of her lips. She runs her hands through her hair as she watches Josh. She had shown him every one of his fantasies, placing herself at the center of them. They weren’t particularly raunchy, it was all about connection to him and for once she didn’t tease. 

“I like you, Joshua,” She says, truthfully, allowing him to pull their bodies a little apart. 

He was flustered and confused and embarrassed, but he also didn’t want to run. She had kept her word, shown him a few things and left. He didn’t fully understand the words she had just spoken.

He shakes his head, an awkward smile on his lips there on accident, and she stares at him wistfully. 

“I haven’t had someone in my mind in a very long time.” 

“It’s okay,” She soothes. “You really are an angel. Maybe on this earthly plane for too long since you clearly have carnal desires, but they were sweet. Every man’s mind I’ve looked into had vile and cruel desires…” She paused, looking past Josh. “Even in my first life, all the men I knew wanted to hurt the women they supposedly loved.” 

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in shock. 

“The closest you got to dirty was having me in do–”

“Okay!” Josh cut her off. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” He turned and walked swiftly through the crowd, parting easily for him–definitely not a misuse of his miracles. 

“Fine,” She grinned wickedly and whistled for Rori, sauntering after Josh. 

Back on the street, it could’ve been daytime with all the lights compared to the speakeasy. She squinted her eyes in distaste, thriving in the dark and wishing she had brought her sunglasses.

Josh was turned away from her so she tapped on his shoulder, wanting his attention. Wanting to see him again. He turned slowly and the look on his cherubic face was troubled. She frowned, about to ask what got his wings in a twist. 

A shadow stepped into Josh’s light. His hair was long and messy, in need of a wash. His silver jewelry shined heavy on his tanned chest. His black button up was almost completely open exposing his torso and he held a wide-brimmed black hat loosely in one hand and a guitar case more carefully in the other. His eyes flashed yellow when he spotted Y/N.  

She straightened her posture under his gaze and gave him a defiant look. Rori growled, but stayed behind her legs. 

Jake ran his tongue over his bottom lip, taking in the woman shaped devil before him. “You must be the new demon in town.” 

She tilted her head at him and looked between Josh and Jake. “And you must be your brother’s keeper.” 

He took a menacing step closer, narrowing his eyes at his angel of a brother before returning his gaze to her. “Something like that. Now, farewell…or don’t, I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to speak again but no sound came out. 

His eyes flashed again as he turned on his heel and said tersely, a command, “Josh.”

The pair disappeared into fog that had appeared as suddenly as the older demon along the nighttime sidewalk and then she watched it dissipate moments later, leaving no trace of the creatures. The men. The angel and the demon.

-

to be continued... join the taglist

[kikuowo]

THE LONELY TREE

PAIRING: sanzu haruchiyo x reader

SUMMARY: comforting him <3

WARNINGS: slight manga spoliers about sanzu’s past. self deprecating thoughts . i did NOT proofread so goodluck lmfao

A/N: omg…hi hey guys im.. alive what. ive had this in my drafts for EVEEEERRRR and finally found motivation to finish it. its not long and its not great but its something. i miss tr and i miss sanzu my pookiebear…

every so often, haruchiyo would return to this state. his old self. once again he was timid and quiet, the kind boy you remembered when first meeting him.

he went from his loud teasing nature, to locking himself in the bathroom. he would stare into his reflection with dim eyes that seemed to be far off into his mind.

haru thought he was hideous. bright obnoxious pink hair, something so childish for a top ranking gang member, that paled his already ghastly skin even more. freckles dotted across his nose and cheeks, he had always hated them as a kid and now even in his late 20s he still wont acknowledge that no amount of scrubbing will wash them away.

two large jagged diamonds were etched into his skin. just thinking about them he could still feel the sharp stabbing pain from the edge of the plastic toy like it happened yesterday. he thinks this might be the ugliest aspect of him. he could tolerate the pale skin, freckles, eyebags, and wild hair. all easy fixes, he thinks, but has no motivation whatsoever to do so. however, the scarred skin on each corner of his mouth would never, could never, be fixed.

his appearance was just one thing that made him hideous. his action and, really his whole existence was hideous.

never was he good enough.

not good enough for their mother to stay. not good enough for their father to raise them. he was a terrible brother, teaching senju wrong and always disappointing takeomi.

he was a bad friend.

he killed mochi. one of the few people who he thought truly cared for his well being, even thought of him as a younger brother.

he was a bad boyfriend.

haru knew he wasn’t good to you. he knew you deserved someone normal. someone who isn’t an addict. someone who can go out freely and take you out on dates. he knew you deserved someone who didn’t lose their temper easy like him, who hurt you not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well. he’s not sure why you’ve been following him around so long, but he also isn’t sure what he would do if you stopped.

rindou had warned you through text about haruchiyo’s sudden drop in mood. you immediately dropped everything and rush home to him, wanting to stop his self loathing quickly before it turned for the worse.

when you arrived to the apartment all lights were off, drapes closed and everything was quiet. if you didn’t know any better you would think no one was home. but you knew he was home, if not for the shoes thrown haphazardly by the door, the soft sounds of crying could be heard.

you ponder on calling out your arrival, deciding on just being loud enough to let him know you are home, but not enough to startle him. you make your way to the bathroom and quietly knock three times before pausing then entering.

haru stands slouched in front of the sink. his rose colored hair messy, eyes red and puffy, and a frown set on his lips.

taking a slow breath you walk up to him, your reflections side by side. you know he knows you are there, it shows in the way he slightly tenses and his hands begin to shake. you want nothing more than to comfort him, however knowing he dislikes overbearing people holds you back for a moment. unsure and unmoving, you take this moment to really look at the broken man in front of you.

you see his pain, you see his hardships, you see his worry, you see is sadness. but you also see his pretty blue eyes that always look at you with love and hopefulness. you see pretty porcelain skin that blushes a pretty pink when he gets flustered from your words of love. you see rosy lips that you love to feel against your own and that you know he loves to use to praise you, to make you feel loved.

you also see two scars, one on each side of those lips. deep down they have always made you feel a sense of sadness. a once happy little boy scarred for something he didn’t do, insecure to the point of covering his face for years, a moment forever changing his life.

but they also made you happy. they were apart of haruchiyo, the man you loved with every atom inside of you. anytime a diamond appeared throughout the day you instantly thought of him. how happy he made you, how much you missed him, when will be the next time you can hold him? kiss him?

snapping out of your trance, you once again walk up to him. slowly, allowing him time to retract from you, you wrap your arms around his middle and lay your head against his back.

he tenses even more at first before slowly but surely relaxing into your hold. you place one, two, three kisses between his shoulder blades, payment for letting you comfort him. he places a cold hand over one of your own, a silent thanks and a green flag to comfort him.

and so you do, holding him in the cramped bathroom slowly swaying the two of you and placing kisses every so often onto him and listening to the steady thrumming of his heart, one he knows solely beats because of you.

[lau219]

Why Deny?

Part 3

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

The next day, as planned, they rendezvoused in front of his office before heading to the elevator and going up. After getting off, they walked in silence as they made their way to the office of Charles Benton, their boss and one of the top ranks within the agency.

Upon reaching his office, Leonard gave a quick knock on the door and then held it open for Y/N as she walked through before he followed behind her. Upon their entering, Charles looked up and sat back in his chair.

“How you doing, kid?” he asked Y/N as she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

She smiled at him. It was during more private times like this when Charles would momentarily show a kind of fatherly affection for her. It wasn’t often, but she appreciated it when it happened.

“Fine, thanks,” Y/N responded as she crossed her legs. “Glad to be back. Just anxious to get to more than just paperwork.” She looked over at Leonard, who remained standing and was leaning against the bookshelf on the wall, their eyes meeting briefly before she looked back to Benton.

“That’s partly why you’re here,” he said as he slid a piece of paper across the desk to her, a date and time written on it. “Your testing is scheduled for eight days from now. It’ll be the same process as before. You’ll have to perform within five percent of your rating from your original entry test in order to be cleared. If that doesn’t happen, you’re set up to work in Records for the next 6 months. Understood?”

“Yes,” she simply replied with a single nod. No way was she going to let that happen.

“Good,” Benton replied. He paused briefly before continuing. “That being said, I’m telling you what I’m about to tell you with the assumption that you’re going to be back to your previous status. For now, this doesn’t leave this room. Are we clear?”

He looked from her over to Leonard, then back to her. Each of them gave a silent nod in response. He then shifted slightly and opened his desk drawer, pulling out a heavily marked file folder. He reached it out and passed it over to Leonard, who still stood to the side. Leonard reached out and took it from him as Charles continued.

“We have reason to believe that Simon Foster is working as a double agent. This is a brand new suspicion, but enough concern has been raised that we’re not ignoring it.”

Immediately, Y/N’s eyes widened and she raised her eyebrows, quickly looking over to Leonard. He lifted his gaze from the file, which he’d opened, and met her eyes briefly before looking over expectantly to Charles as he continued to speak.

“From what we’ve gathered, he’s currently nothing more than a messenger boy, but it’s unclear who he’s involved with and to what degree. He could be invested, or it could be a short-term agreement he’s made. We need to find out. That’s where you two come in.” Charles then turned to Leonard. “You and Foster haven’t suddenly become best friends, have you?”

“Not at all,” was Leonard’s blank reply.

The guy was a shit. Leonard had never trusted him, and a mutual disdain came from Foster. They both had egos too big for one room, the difference being that Leonard had the record and experience to warrant his. It wouldn’t seem odd in the slightest if Leonard acted suspicious of Foster or got in his face – it was common knowledge that the two of them weren’t friendly.

Benton turned back to Y/N.

“Is he still a fan of yours?” he asked her.

“Excuse me?”

“He asked you out at one point, didn’t he?” Benton asked.

She should have been surprised that he knew about that, but she wasn’t.

“Ages ago,” she confirmed.

“He likes you.”

“I don’t think I’ve even spoken to him in a few months,” Y/N replied.

“Well, we’re gonna use whatever fondness for you that he has to our advantage.” Benton then looked to Leonard again before addressing both of them.

“The Embassy party is three weeks from now. There’ll be plenty of opportunities for Foster to weasel around there. You two can start your digging then.”

He then focused back on Y/N.

“This is all contingent on making it through next week,” he said to her. “If you don’t pass, Miller can do this alone and you’ll be assisting from a desk. Understood?”

“Yes,” Y/N responded.

“Good,” Charles said.

Shortly after that, he sent them on their way, and as they got off the elevator at their floor, Leonard spoke before they parted ways to their respective offices.

“Plan on staying late tomorrow night,” he said to her matter-of-factly before then pointing down to her feet, “and skip the heels.”

“What?” she asked him. “Why?”

“Because we’re going back to the range after work,” he said, looking at her. “And we’re not leaving until you can pass a bullet through the same hole twice.”

Part 4

@nyxxie-pooh @febris-amatoria @hannibellector @fuseburner @neonpurplestars89-blog @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree

[mirisss]

One Pact reaction to their gf on a survival show

One Pact reacting to their gf making it into a debut line-up & their gf not making it into the line-up

Wordcount ≈ 4.8k (pretty long for a reaction, lol, but I couldn’t help myself)

Warnings: injuries, bruises, anxiety, self-doubt, angst, a lot of fluff too, 

Thank you for the request! Hope you like it! I tried to make the reactions different for everyone but I most of them are quite similar.

Yoon Jongwoo

Jongwoo was there for you as much as he could be, he knows how hard it can be to be a part of a survival show. He watched every single episode and voted for you, he even tried to subtly tell his fans to vote for you without outright saying it. He was there in person for the final episode, standing in the front row ready to cheer for his girlfriend. You saw him the second you got on stage, the way he smiled and waved made almost all of your nerves wash away. No matter what happened, he would be so proud of you. 

Throughout the final performances, you swore you heard Jongwoo shouting your name in the sea of people, it made you smile even wider. The Best Boyfriend award goes to Yoon Jongwoo. Finally, it was time to announce who made it into the debut line-up. 10 people would be in the group. 7 names had been called. Yours had not been one of them. Jongwoo was nervous. You had been popular, often among the top 10 during the show. But he knew just as well as you: even if you had been number 1 throughout the show, you could still be placed 11 today. 

~When you make it~

3 more contestants were announced. “The three contestants fighting for the final 2 spots are L/n (Y/n), Kim Yujin, and Lee Yuna. One of these trainees was placed first, one was second, and the third was placed just outside of the debut line-up with the 11th rank, let me announce second place,” Jongwoo held his breath, chanting (Y/n)’s name in his head. “(L/n) (Y/n)!” “YES,” Jongwoo exclaimed loudly, so proud and happy. He knew how much this meant for you. 

After the show was over and you could meet up with Jongwoo, he engulfed you in a tight hug, twirling the two of you around. “Congratulations, babe, I’m so happy for you,” “Thank you, Woo, I can’t believe it! Second place as well, only five votes away from number one,” “You’re always number one for me,” You gave Jongwoo a fake annoyed look at his pick-up line, yet a smile adorned your face, even if the line was corny, Jongwoo truly meant it. “Now that you’re debuting, you better film a dance challenge with me,” “Oh no, I can’t do that. You’re too good at dancing,” “Come on, you’re just as good as me,” You gave Jongwoo a slight push on his shoulder as you shook your head. “Alright, what if I promise to dance badly?” “Deal,” “But it’s gonna cost you a kiss,” You laughed before taking a step closer to him, leaning in, Jongwoo followed suit, and your lips met in a sweet kiss. 

~When you don’t make it~

3 more contestants were announced. “The three contestants fighting for the final 2 spots are L/n (Y/n), Kim Yujin, and Lee Yuna. One of these trainees was placed first, one was second, and the third was placed just outside of the debut line-up with the 11th rank, let me announce second place,” Jongwoo held his breath, chanting (Y/n)’s name in his head. “Kim Yujin!” “Number 1, please, please, (Y/n),” Jongwoo whispered, chanting your name, praying that you were number 1. “And the contestant who placed first, the final member of the group, is…” Jongwoo held his breath, waiting to hear your name. “Lee Yuna!” The MC announced loudly. Jongwoo felt disappointed, not in you but for you. He knew just how hard you had worked, you deserved to be debuting but there wasn’t anything he could do now. 

“And that means, that (L/n) (Y/n), ranked 11, just outside of the debut line-up, could you tell us how you feel?” The MC asked, turning to you. You were crying but still tried to say something. “Well, I am so happy for everyone who made it. Of course, I’m sad that I didn’t make it, but I’ll just have to try harder next time. Thank you to everyone who has supported me during this show, and once again, congratulations to everyone who made it,” Jongwoo felt tears build up in his eyes as you said that you needed to work harder next time, he didn’t agree with that. You had worked so so hard this time, giving more is just not possible. 

After the show was over and the two of you could meet up, Jongwoo quickly embraced you in a tight hug. The second his arms were around you, you began crying again. Jongwoo whispered into your ear how proud he was, how much he loved you, and that it would be okay. He did everything he could to console you. Eventually, your tears stopped and Jongwoo released you from his tight embrace. “You will always be number 1 for me, you know that right, in my heart you’re always the winner,” “I love you, Yoon Jongwoo, my corny boyfriend,” “And I love you, (L/n) (Y/n), my lovely girlfriend,” 

Jay Chang

Jay knows how stressful it can be to be in a survival show. He’s been close to making it, he knows how much it hurts to know that you were so close yet not making it. When you told him you would be competing in a survival show, Jay was happy for you but he also told you that it’s going to be rough and whenever you feel sad, he’s going to be there for you. 

Jay, just like Jongwoo, did everything he could to promote you to his fans, hoping that people would vote for you.

Jay stood in the crowd, cheering for you loudly. He didn’t care about being recognized, all he wanted to do was cheer for his amazing girlfriend who had worked incredibly hard for this. Even going so far as to perform with a sprained ankle, doing stunts and getting hurt. Jay was a bit worried for you, afraid that you would hurt yourself seriously. Everyone in the crowd cheered just as loud as Jay, whenever you came out on stage. 

~ when you make it ~ 

“And the contestant who has received the most votes tonight, the one who takes the number one rank is…” Jay began chanting your name, many others in the crowd following along with him. He saw how tears gathered in your eyes at seeing him there and hearing the crowd chanting your name. “(Y/n)!” The MC announced loudly. Jay jumped up and down in the crowd, cheering loudly. 

“(Y/N)!!!!” Jay ran up to you as soon as he could after the show, engulfing you in a tight hug. Once he released you from his embrace, he took your hands into his jumping up and down. You followed along with him, jumping up and down. “You made it!” “I made it!” “I’m so proud of you my love,” He kissed you on the lips. “Thank you for all your support Jay, I couldn’t have done this without you,” You gave him another kiss on the lips. 

~ when you don’t make it ~ 

“The contestant who was ranked in 13th place, 3 ranks away from the debut group is…” Jay held his breath, chanting in his mind, not (Y/n), not (Y/n), not (Y/n)... “(L/n) (Y/n),” Jay wanted to jump up onto the stage and embrace you, he felt his own tears building up as he saw how sad you looked. “Miss (Y/n), do you want to say something?” “I want to thank everyone who has voted for me and cheered for me, I know this isn’t the end, and I want to wish everyone who makes it, happiness and success,” 

After the show was over, Jay ran backstage, almost fighting security because they didn’t want to let him pass even if he had a backstage pass. The second he found you, his heart broke. You were sitting on the floor, back against a wall, crying, bandage and an ice pack on your ankle. “Baby,” When you heard his voice, you looked up, voice breaking as you said his name, “Jay,” “I’m here, (Y/n), it’s okay, I’m here,” He embraced you into a warm and loving embrace, consoling you for an hour as people rushed around in the room. 

“I feel like such a failure like I let down everyone,” “No, darling, you didn’t let anyone down. I promise you, everyone who has voted for you and cheered for you, they’re are so proud of you, you worked so hard and you proved to everyone that you have more talent than anyone. Look at me, it wasn’t an easy journey to get here, you’ll find your way eventually,” “I love you, Jay, thank you for being here for me,” “I love you too, darling, come on, let’s go home,” 

Oh Seongmin

Seongmin wasn’t too happy when he heard you were competing in a survival show, he knew from experience that it’s hard and it makes you doubt yourself. He didn’t want that for you, he wanted you to be confident and strong. He knows how talented you are, but he knows that sometimes it doesn’t matter how talented you are, because editing, airtime, songs, looks, it all plays a bigger part than talent does for many. However, he voted for you, cheered, and did everything he could to promote you. He loved you after all and would do everything he could to help you. 

On the finale of the show, Seongmin watched from backstage, happy to see that you had made it this far. He was so proud of how hard you had worked. You hadn’t always received the best editing or a lot of airtime, but even so, you were one of the top contestants. 

~ when you make it ~

The MC called four girls to the front, you being one of them. Three of you have made it into the group and one is placed 8th, just outside the debut line-up. After calling two of the other girls for third and second place, you and one other girl were left. One of you placed first and one placed 8th. Seongmin stared at the TV as he stood backstage, his hands clasped together, half praying that the MC would call your name for first place. “And now, the announcement everyone has been waiting for, who is the top-ranked contestant and who, unfortunately, ranked just outside of the debut. First place goes to…” Seongmin wished to hear your name, he waited anxiously as the MC slowly moved his mic back toward his face. “Congratulations… (Y/n)!” 

Seongmin squealed and jumped around as he cheered. You did it! And placing first too! He was so happy for you, everything had been worth it. All your hard work, all the hours spent in the studio, all the time and pain you had put into this, it had all been worth it. When you came backstage Seongmin stood with his arms open wide, a big smile on his face. “SEONGMIN!” “(Y/n)! Congrats! You did it!” “I did it!” You jumped into his arms, crying and laughing at the same time. Overwhelmed with happiness. Seongmin was so happy, he knew how it felt to make it in a survival show, not placing first though. “We have to film challenges together and try to get on the same entertainment shows!” “Don’t you think people would find out that we’re dating then?” “I don’t know, I don’t care either, Min, I just want to do everything with you!” Seongmin leaned in and kissed you on the lips twice and then once on the nose. He gazed into your eyes, happiness, and love swirling around in them. “Congratulations, darling,” 

~ when you don’t make it ~

The MC was calling names left and right, some who made it and some who didn’t. Your name had yet to be called, finally you and two others were called to the front of the stage. The final ranks were to be announced, you could be placed first, second, or last. 7 people could make it into the debut line-up, 7 out of 12 girls/women. “In second place, it’s Lee Yuna!” Seongmin stared at the screen, he felt nervous. He didn’t know what to do, what if you placed last? It would break his heart and yours. 

“First place goes to… Kim Yujin!” “12th place therefore automatically goes to, (L/n) (Y/n),” Seongmin teared up as he saw how you fell to your knees on the stage crying. Feeling like a failure, after placing first or second throughout the show and now placing last. All the bruises and pain hadn’t been enough, you hadn’t been enough. That’s what it felt like. The MC asked if you would like to say a few words but you couldn’t talk. No words would leave your mouth. Some of the other contestants whom you had been close with came up to you and tried to comfort you. 

After the show ended, you managed to drag yourself backstage. Feeling almost apathetic. Numb. It was like you were watching the world from space. Suddenly you felt warmer and safer, it took a while until you noticed that Seongmin was now hugging you as you cried silent tears. “It’s okay, (Y/n), it’s okay, I’m so proud of you,” “Seongmin,” You just managed to whisper his name, he hugged you even tighter, your body shaking as you cried. “It’s not your fault, honey, it’s okay, you were so good, everyone loved you,” Seongmin brought you home, ordering your favorite food and snacks, all to try and make you feel better. He patched up any injuries you had gotten from the last day. It took hours before you felt better, but having him there made it easier. 

Yeom Taegyun / TAG

Tag was ready to support you to a hundred percent in the best way he knew. By helping you with production skills and writing lyrics. Before the show started, he was practicing with you for 7 hours a day. Even bringing you along to dance practices with One Pact, having Jongwoo and Yedam give you tips on more dance styles. Tag supported you how he knew best, by practicing. You appreciated it, and thanks to him, you learned more skills that you could show and use during the show, making you a top contender for first place. Hundreds to thousands of videos of moments from the show went viral, most of them being videos of you. 

You and some others from the survival show were given some benefits after winning a certain round during the show, one of those being to film challenges with already debuted artists such as Stray Kids, Ateez, One Pact, and many more. You and Tag directly offered to film the challenge with one another. Tag knew that his group wasn’t the most popular one, but he still wanted to do what he could to help you out. The video ended up going a bit viral because people loved the synergy Tag and you seemed to have, commenting how perfect you would look as a couple, to which you both laughed if only they knew. 

~ When you make it ~

Tag ended up going to the show along with One Pact, they were invited after doing the challenges with some of the contestants. Tag and the rest of the boys were all excited to be there for you in person, they were all cheering for you, though Tag was cheering the most, albeit quietly. The final performances were amazing. No one knew who would make it and who wouldn’t, everyone seemed to be about equal in talent, it was anyone’s game. 

The One Pact members had been given a special mission as they attended the show, they would each get to announce one contestant who made it into the group. The five boys all randomly took five of the eight envelopes that held the names of the debut line-up. “And in fourth place,” Tag was the final one to open his envelope, the name inside was the name of the person placing 4th, he slowly opened the envelope, hoping to see your name. He knew it had to be yours, it was fate, he felt pulled toward this envelope, it had to be yours. Tag couldn’t hold back his smile as he found the familiar name written on the paper. “(Y/n)!” 

Once the show was over, Tag came up behind you, scaring you a bit as you hadn’t noticed him. “Congratulations,” “Oh my, Taegyun! You scared me! But thank you! It’s all thanks to you!” “You did it all on your own, how could people resist falling in love with you? It’s impossible to not fall for your charms,” You kissed him on the cheek, still feeling like your success was thanks to him. 

~ When you don’t make it ~ 

Two weeks before the finale, you sustained an injury while practicing for the finale performances. The injury was so bad that you had to drop out of the show, you had to be treated in a hospital for 2 days before you could go home. Tag stayed with you in the hospital for those 2 days, never leaving your side. He knew you would feel better if he was there. For those two days, it was like you hadn’t realized that you couldn’t return to the show, it would take weeks before you could dance again after this injury. 

“Taggy, do you have my phone, I need to talk with my manager,” Tag looked at you, his eyes giving away that he knew something you didn’t. “Um, don’t you think you should wait another day or two before you think about work. Besides we should be getting ready to go home now,” “Taegyun, what’s up?” Tag sighed, he couldn’t keep this from you. He held your hand as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Your manager called to tell us two things, 1 you’re of the show because you can’t dance now, and 2 she quits as your manager,” Tag left out the reasons for it, you aren’t worth it this is such a stupid injury, shouldn’t have happened. Something along those lines were what she said. 

“What? She quit?” “Yeah, but honey, you’ve told be that she’s been turbulent, unreliable. This only proved it,” Even if you knew that what Tag said was true, it still hurt knowing that you’d basically been abonded for something that wasn’t your fault. “I wanna go home,” “Let’s go home,” Tag helped you out to the car that his company sent, and he would be taking you to his apartment because your company isn’t doing anything for you. Tag began thinking of what he could do for you, he can’t heal your leg with a snap of his fingers, but he might be able to help you out with the company and manager problem. 

The following day, Tag woke you up by singing a song you didn’t recognize, his voice was smooth and soft, he sounded like an angel. Eventually as you woke up and became more aware, you began hearing what he was singing. It was a song he wrote for your one year anniversary. Hearing him singing that song again, brought you a lot of comfort. “Good morning, baby,” “Good morning, Taggy,” “Here, take some pain killers. What do you want for breakfast?” After saying what you wanted, Tag made sure to fix it for you. He sat with you in his bedroom eating when his phone dinged, he looked at it and smiled. “I’m gonna have to go to the company building for a little bit, I have a meeting I have to attend, Jongwoo-hyung and Seongmin-hyung are gonna be home though, so if you need anything just call for one of them,” He gave you a kiss on the lips before he slipped away. 

Tag came back 3 hours later, he looked exhausted but happy. He carefully layed down on the bed beside you. “How did your meeting go?” “At first, very badly but eventually it went well,” “What was it about?” “A lot of things, but mostly this one artist I wanted to produce some songs for,” You perked up at that, never having heard Tag show interest in another artist than himself, his group, or you. “Who?” “You,” “What?” “I tried to persuade Armada ent, to sign you to the company, so that you can debut and at least receive some support from your company, they didn’t agree to it until I said that I’d help produce songs for you, and that I would quit if they didn’t” “TAG, you can’t say you’ll quit for me,” “Eh, it worked” “Thank you, Taegyun, you’re my saviour,” 

Lee Yedam

Yedam would be your own personal cheerleader and dance teacher. He would have you show him every dance you had to learn, he’d learn it himself and help you out. He’d help other’s on your team if he so had to, but he’d mostly focus on you of course. He was voting like crazy, calling every single person that he knows asking them to vote for you. Accidentally watching your performance on a live and saying “Woah, this girl is so good, the one doing this part,” Resulting in his fans going to vote for you too. He was there watching every single performance, so what if he was recognized by anyone? He needed to support his amazing, talented, beautiful, caring, wonderful girlfriend.  

Of course Yedam was there for the finale, he was standing front row, barricade, he had waited in line for 12 hours, some people recognizing him and letting him go before them. He thanked them deeply. Some asked him if he was there for a special reason, he simply said that he wanted to support a friend. He was happy to hear that so many people were talking about how good you were and how they would definitely vote for you. 

He already knew the finale songs and performances, he had helped you prepare for them. You had even gotten the killing part and main dancer part, despite your original position being a vocalist. Thanks to Yedam you had really stepped up and become a better dancer, good enough to be the main dancer. While also still serving amazing vocals of course. The crowd was going crazy for you, screaming so loud that Yedam thought he’d go deaf, but he was screaming just as loud as everyone else. When you saw him in the crowd, you couldn’t help but wave to him, though most fans in the crowd thought it was to them. Yedam kept sending you hearts throughout the finale, you always smiled whenever he did, sometimes sending him a wink or blowing a kiss to him while you performed. 

~ When you make it ~

And now, it was time for the results. Yedam was nervous, while you had made it this far, you had always been wavering between the two lowest ranks for the debut line-up and just below it. Debut wasn’t a given for anyone. He was praying that you would make it. “Contestants who have the chance of ranking 6, 7, and 8 are (Y/n), Yuna, Yujin, and Haewon, please step forward,” Hearing your name made him happy but he was still worried, three out of four would make it, you could still be the one who ranks just outside of the debut line-up. “In eight place, Haewon!” The MC began announcing the ranks. “In seventh place, Yuna!” “And now, in sixth place, it’s either (Y/n) or Yujin…” “Congratulations…” Yedam was ready to climb on stage and rip the envelope out of the MC’s hands just to find out but they were dragging it out. “(Y/N)!” “YES!” Yedam exclaimed loudly as the whole crowd broke out into loud cheers, some people beside Yedam even grabbed his hands and jumped up and down with him, saying congratulations. 

Yedam looked up at you, giving you a bright smile and a thumbs up. He even looked happier than you did at the moment. You had tears in your eyes and a smile on your face. “Would you like to say a few words, (Y/n)?” The MC asked, handing you a mic, you took it and gave the MC a little nod. “I want to thank everyone who has voted and cheered for me during the show. I’m so happy to have made it! I also especially want to thank my best friend for being there for me and helping me during the difficult times! Please look forward to seeing me on stage!” Yedam almost began crying, he knew you couldn’t say that you wanted to thank your boyfriend but you calling him your best friend almost meant more. You both had a special bond, it was both love and a deep friendship. 

“Congratulations!” He yelled as soon as he could meet you. “Thank you for everything Yedam, I wouldn’t have made it without you,” “Of course you would have! You’re amazing!” “But you helped me become a better dancer!” “I didn’t do much, now what did you think of the group name?” The conversation about how you felt over the group members and everything continued the whole night. 

~ When you don’t make it ~

Your stage presence was the best it had ever been. Much thanks to your boyfriend standing in the front row cheering for you. Yedam was really hoping that people would vote for you. The crowd was loud and cheerful. Yedam worried a bit about how loud the cheers were for some of the other contestants compared to you, some were louder and some were quieter. When the time for announcements came, Yedam was about to start biting on his nails to release some nerves. 

“In 13th place, 5 ranks away from the debut group, we find…” The MC slowly opened the envelope, looking at it, he made a shocked face. Yedam had a bad feeling. Please don’t let it be her. Please anyone but (Y/n). “(Y/n)” The crowd broke out into gasps and sad exclaimations. Yedam tried to stay strong as he saw you look at him, silent tears running down your face. You worked so hard, you made so many improvements during the show, and still didn’t make it. The MC asked you to say a few words, Yedam couldn’t bear to hear you so sad, he began crying along with a lot of others in the crowd. “I, uh, wanna say thank you to everyone who voted for me. And I promise to work hard and come back on stage soon, so please,” You had to take a break and try to breath, your own tears feeling like they suffocated you. “Please, wait for me,” You then left the stage, leaving a lot of confidence behind, you really thought you would make it. Yedam quickly began moving to get to you, he was crying and he knew you would be feeling even worse. 

“(Y/n)” “Yedam-ah,” Your voice broke as you said his name. He tried to give you a smile, hoping you would feel a little better if he did. “Hey, why are you crying? You were amazing out there, didn’t you hear all the cheers people gave you? You’re going to go down in history as one of the greatest contestants ever,” “I tried so hard, and I really wanted to make it,” “I know, but it isn’t over yet. Your company is going to see just how popular and talented you are, they’re going to try to debut you tomorrow if they could after this!” “You think so?” “Of course! Look at me, I placed 36th on boys planet, and yet I have debuted, Jongwoo-hyung placed 18th, and he’s debuted. It’s not over just yet, so try to stay strong,” Yedam kissed you on the lips once and then once on your forehead. “I promise that you’ll make it one day, and then, you will be unstoppable,” “You’ll be unstoppable too, you and One Pact” “We’ll do it together!” You finally smiled, tears still filling your eyes but you felt a bit better, knowing your personal cheerleader still believed in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. 

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

even as a shadow, even as a dream pt.1

Pairing: Vamp!Eddie Munson/F!Reader; Vamp!Eddie Munson/You

Summary: Eddie wakes up in the Upside Down, and he is not the same. (Eddie POV)

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: vamp!eddie munson, angst, mild body horror, blood cravings, feelings of self-loathing, adult language

A/N:  I apologize in advance for any pain this causes lol but this idea would just not leave me alone. Also, I was too lazy to come up with a new "reader" backstory, so I'm keeping "Obi" from my previous two fics. You don't have to read those to understand this one, but I consider this fic an alternate to "i can't carry it for you, but i can carry you." Namely, what would have happened if reader went with Lucas and Max instead of Dustin and Eddie? On a final note, I think this fic will be three parts, and each part will switch POVs between Eddie and Reader. (But there will be an eventual happy ending don't worry.)

Also, title take from this quote if anyone's curious:

Come back! Even as a shadow, even as a dream. -- Euripides

Anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

Ao3 Link: Here 

Pt. 2 Links: Tumblr / Ao3

Update: This fic is now completed.

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

Hunger.

That was the first thing he was aware of. The only thing. It was sharp. It burned. It hurt. Everywhere, always, like needles in his skin. Like teeth.

Hunger, sharp as a blade. Overwhelming hunger. Hunger neverending.

It was his only sense, the only thing he could feel. He was deaf and blind and naked in the dark, the void of his hunger swallowing everything else. He wasn’t even aware of his body until the first drop of cold, thick liquid hit his tongue.

Then he suddenly had hands. Fingers that were clutching something limp and leathery to his mouth. He had a mouth, too, apparently. And a tongue. And teeth he was using to tear into the flesh of… something.

It didn’t matter what it was. What it had been. All that mattered was the liquid he was slurping from its body, loudly, hungrily. It was both delicious and disgusting in turns, made his stomach churn with nausea and then delight. Too soon, the thing was empty, drained dry, but that didn’t matter, either. He just moved on to the next thing, and the next. He drained them each dry.

It wasn’t until the third body, or maybe the fourth, that the word bat fluttered through his mind.

On the sixth body, the next word came. Blood.

He was drinking blood.

Except… that wasn’t right. The liquid coating his hands, his mouth, sliding down his tongue, was black, pitch-black. It was cold, too. And blood should be warm, should be…

Red.

The color flashed through his mind— a red sky, streaked with lightning— but it was gone just as quickly.

Didn’t matter. These words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the pit still gaping inside him.

Hungry. He was still so hungry.

Suddenly, a smell. He realized he had a nose just as it twitched, and then he was bombarded all at once.

Something rank and musty, leathery, decaying, with just a hint of metal. This was the most overwhelming scent, and as he blinked his eyes for what felt like the first time, his surroundings came into focus. Piled all around him were crumpled shapes, their dark flesh merging with the shadows.

Bats. The word flickered through his mind again. He was surrounded by dozens of bats, or their carcasses at least. One was still clutched in his hands, its cold, coagulated, too-thick blood slowly dripping down his chin.

But then, that scent again. Sweet. Pulsing. Alive.

He was moving before he realized it, crawling over the bats, staggering to his feet. Everything hurt, hunger stabbing at him from the inside, nearly driving him to his knees once more. But that smell… he needed to get to it. Needed to consume it.

And it was coming from the shadows beneath one of the crumbling structures around him.

Trailer. Another useless word.

Because now the scent was closer. Closer. Something skittered, nails rasping on asphalt. He was right on top of it.

Lunging out, he grabbed something soft, and it squealed, thrashing, in his grasp. He snarled as he yanked the thing to his mouth, and he sank his teeth through coarse fur until…

Blood. Hot as a brand, it poured into his mouth, washing over his tongue. The bat blood had been enough to get him upright, but this blood…

Groaning, he pulled it into his mouth like a man starved. Because he was. But the hunger aching through his bones was an animal, rabid, feral… fading. He didn’t realize it at first, but with every desperate swallow, the hot liquid was coating the razor-sharp hunger seated deep in his belly. Not completely, but enough that his mind slowly began to return, bit by bit.

By the time he drained the thing dry and pulled it away from his mouth, he recognized it as a racoon. And when he looked up, he recognized the shadowed trailer in front of him as the Littens’, who lived down the road.

But then he caught sight of his reflection in the trailer’s window. Caught sight of the dark smear of his mouth, dripping with blood. The flash of his too-white, too-long teeth. The dark pits of his eyes, surrounded by black veins. The twin and curving shadows looming over his back.

A beat passed, then two…

Eddie Munson started screaming.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Come on, wake up, wake up, goddamnit!” Eddie whimpered as he smacked his balled up fists into his forehead, like he could punch himself awake.

Then the smell of his hands— of the blood on them— reached his nose, and it made his stomach churn and his mouth salivate for very different reasons.

He pulled his hands away from his face, making a sound caught somewhere between a groan and a gag. His breathing was uneven, rapid, shaky. He felt on the verge of passing out.

Maybe… maybe if he passed out, he would wake up from this nightmare. Dream logic, right? Because that’s all this was. A nightmare. Just a terrible, godawful nightmare.

But fuck, he’d never felt this hungry in a dream before. He had never felt hungry in a dream at all. But now hunger was sitting in his belly like a molten rock, smoldering. It wasn’t as all-consuming as it had been, but it was still there, always present, clinging to him like a shadow.

Minutes ticked by while he crouched there on his heels with his brow pressed to his knees, but he could feel that hunger growing stronger again with each passing second. There was also a dull persistent pain throbbing in his teeth, like a headache.

Eddie also couldn’t remember ever feeling pain in a dream before.

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t a dream, a nightmare. Maybe… maybe this was a Vecna trance?

“Shit!” Eddie jolted to his feet, glancing around frantically, but he didn’t account for the extra weight on his back. He stumbled, feeling his shoulder blades shift, followed by a brush of something soft and leathery against his neck, his cheek.

He flinched, and his stomach churned again for yet another reason.

“Don’t think about it, Munson, just don’t fucking think about it,” Eddie muttered to himself, voice tinged with hysteria.

But it was kind of hard not to think about the fucking wings sprouting out of his back. The weight of them was like a yoke, and they twitched and moved without his permission, always flickering in the corners of his vision.

Vecna. This had to be Vecna. Right?

Red— what was her name? Max— hadn’t mentioned being turned into a… a monster in her visions, but maybe Vecna was upping the ante? They had been trying to kill him after all.

“Fuckkk,” Eddie whined as he wrapped his arms around himself, cupping his elbows. His eyes darted around again, but nothing had changed since he’d folded in the middle of the road and tried to slap himself awake.

The Upside Down reflection of his trailer park stood around him, covered in vines and the bodies of demo-bats. He tried not to look at their carcasses scattered across the asphalt. Tried not to remember how they tasted, even though the acrid flavor of their blood still sat on the back of his tongue.

Either way, they were dead. That was the important thing. They couldn’t hurt him.

All at once, Eddie recalled the sensation of the demo-bats tearing him to pieces. Their teeth and claws rending his flesh, spilling his blood. The pain had been terrible. He remembered how it felt to choke on his own blood…

“Wait!” Eddie gasped, grabbing at the front of his shirt.

When he looked down, he saw his Hellfire shirt was shredded, the white stained scarlet, the devil’s face in ribbons. He shoved the ruined mess of fabric up and out of the way and found…

An even worse mess.

“Oh, what the fuck?” Eddie whimpered as he stared down at his chest.

His whole torso was coated in blood, but it was all dried, flaking off in patches. And his injuries— the damage done by the demo-bats— were… scarred over. Instead of gaping wounds was ropy scar tissue, crisscrossing his skin in chaotic patterns. Some of the scars looked more healed than others, some were still tender when he poked them, and as Eddie continued to stare, he could have sworn he saw the tail end of a slash mark on his sternum stitch fully closed…

“Nope!” Eddie whipped his head up. He was starting to hyperventilate again. He reflexively lifted his hand to chew on his thumbnail— a bad habit he’s had since childhood— but he froze when a sharp claw pressed into his bottom lip. He dropped both hands like they were on fire, extending them out to the sides and clenching his eyes shut again. “Fuck! Nope, no, this is not happening. Not fucking happening. Keep it together, Munson. T-This is just Vecna, just Vecna fucking with you, man.”

But if it was Vecna… where was he?

Cracking his eyes open, Eddie glanced around again. But there was nothing. No flocks of flying demo-bats. No snarling demo-dogs, no Demogorgons.

No Vecna.

The Upside Down was eerily quiet and still around him, more so than usual. It made the sound of his panicked breathing that much louder. Why the fuck was Vecna not attacking him? If this was a trance, he should already be dead. Chrissy was dead within moments. So was that basketball kid who was out to kill him. Patrick or something. They were both dead minutes after Vecna got them.

Unless… time worked differently for those in the trance? Maybe minutes in the real world felt like hours in Vecna’s mental torture chamber.

God, Eddie fucking hoped not.

But… on the off chance this wasn’t a trance, wasn’t a dream or a nightmare, then all that was left was reality, which would be so much worse.

Eddie felt the wings on his back twitch again, felt the blood drying on his lips, but before he could start to fully panic, another thought occurred to him.

If this was real, then what had happened to the rest of the gang? Henderson, Harrington, Buckley, Wheeler… you.

The thought of your face was like a sledgehammer to the chest, the breath expelled from his lungs in a pained wheeze.

Instead of going with Harrington’s group, you had elected to stay with Sinclair and Max in the Creel house, said all the kids needed at least one chaperone. Your joke had fallen flat, but Eddie remembered smiling because it was just like you to try and make light of a situation, try to make everyone feel better, if only for a moment.

What had happened to you? To everyone? How long had it been since he…

Eddie swallowed thickly as he once again recalled choking on his own blood. He remembered Dustin being there, could still hear the kid crying in his head. But then… nothing. Just darkness. Maybe he passed out.

A wing brushed his neck again, and Eddie knew he hadn’t just passed out.

But he couldn’t think about that right now. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find everyone. Find you. Find…

Blood.

The word ricocheted through his mind again, and that hunger reared up in his stomach, snarling. The blood of the raccoon taunted him from the corners of his mouth, and his tongue chased the phantom flavor, desperate and wanting.

“No, stop it, stop it!” Eddie hissed, smacking his cheeks and nearly poking his damn eyes out with his… claws. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket so he wouldn’t have to look at them, and then he paused and took a deep breath. Let it out slow.

The hunger was still there, like an ember burning a hole through his belly, seconds from leaping into flame. But he could ignore it. He would just… just think of you.

He summoned up the image of your smiling face, and immediately the painful hunger faded a bit. Eddie concentrated, recalling the sound of your laugh, the way you snorted when you were high and found something really funny. He tried to remember the last thing you said to him but couldn’t, but the ghost of your voice trickled through his thoughts, wordless yet soothing. That wasn’t anything new, though. You always sanded off his edges, made the chaos of his mind quiet for just a little while.

Fuck, he’d been in love with you for so long. Ages. Lifetimes.

You hadn’t remembered, but Eddie first met you a few months before your tenth birthday. It was the day before your father had moved you out of Hawkins for some job he got. You’d been so angry at your parents for making you leave the only home you had ever known, so you “ran away,” off into the woods, to avoid having to move.

That was where Eddie found you, or rather where you found him.

He’d been dicking around in the woods around the trailer park, trying to avoid his father who was already drunk at nine in the morning. Eddie didn’t even have any real toys, so he was just throwing rocks at trees, turning sticks into swords with his wild imagination. Then he’d turned around, and there you were. He could still remember the overalls you were wearing, your muddy knees, your red and tear-stained eyes. The two of you had just stared at each other— Eddie bracing himself to be bullied for his hair or his clothes or his dead mom and drunk father— but you’d just smiled at him shyly and asked if you could play with him. He’d stammered something stupid about how he was playing knights and dragons, thinking you would finally realize you were talking to Munson the Freak. But your eyes had just lit up as you picked up your own stick-sword and asked him what the rules were.

Eddie was a goner from that moment on.

Of course, your mother had eventually found you hours later, having been called by someone from the trailer park who saw you and Eddie playing in the woods. Your mom dragged you kicking and screaming back to the car while Eddie awkwardly stood in the tree line. It was only when he’d heard your mother yell your name in reprimand that he realized he hadn’t asked for it all day. You hadn’t asked for his name, either, in the way children can become fast friends with just about anyone given the right circumstances.

But your name and that one perfect, golden, summer afternoon haunted him for years after.

And yet, in a twist of ironic fate, he hadn’t recognized you when you returned.

You’d come back to Hawkins for your senior year and his second. But your hair was much longer, less frizzy, the gap in your front teeth gone. You also kept to yourself and kept your head down, so Eddie passed you in the halls for almost an entire year without a second glance.

Then, during his third senior year, he met Dustin Henderson. And one rainy fall day, you came to pick the kid up from Hellfire.

Eddie didn’t know what it was— maybe it was the way your hair was made frizzy by the rain, or maybe it was the shy smile you had cast the room when you looked up— but he remembered in an instant who you were.

And he fell in love all over again.

He’d bugged— well, maybe more threatened— Henderson to keep bringing you around, using the kid’s bike as an excuse. But you eventually saw through the flimsy lie, and Eddie thought that was it, he’d lost you yet again.

Until he walked out of the next Hellfire meeting, and there you were in the parking lot, leaning against your car and smiling at him, that same, shy smile you’d given him in the woods nearly ten years ago.

Eddie had nearly kissed you that first day, but he managed to control himself. Just barely. Because he finally had you back, and you were as golden and bright as his childhood memories made you out to be. He couldn’t lose you again. So, he kept his mouth shut. He became your friend. Gave you good deals on weed, invited you to his shows, hung out with you in his trailer and listened to you complain about your mom.

And you became his best friend, the one who listened to him ramble about his DnD campaigns, who rocked out in his van with him to the newest cassette he bought, who pushed him to study so he could finally get the fuck out of high school. He had pretended to complain about the studying, but really he enjoyed any time he got to spend with you. And Eddie saw the smile you tried to hide when he called you “Master Obi-Wan,” so he took to calling you Obi, just in the hopes of seeing your lips twitch.

In all that time, you never gave any indication that you remembered him or that day in the woods, so he kept the memory to himself. But that was fine because he had you, the now you, not just the phantom of your past. And every time you smiled in his direction, every time you snorted at something unfunny his said while passing back the joint, Eddie had thought this is enough. More than enough.

Except now you might be dead, and he never got to tell you how much he loved you.

The thought had his eyes snapping open, and Eddie was walking before he realized it. It wasn’t until he turned the corner that his brain registered he was moving, marching, headed for his trailer.

But it wasn’t there.

Eddie’s feet tangled as he stumbled to a stop.

“What the fuuuu…” he muttered, trailing off as his wide eyes stared at the rubble where his trailer used to be.

Because that’s all it was now. Rubble and debris. The Upside Down version of his home had already looked shitty, wrapped in vines and scrap metal from his and Henderson’s shoddy armoring, but this was a wreck. It looked like the trailer had been fucking… split in half.

And in the center lay a burning red line, like a jagged wound in the ground, the crimson light giving everything around it a hellish glow.

Was that the gate? How the fuck did it get so big?

What the fuck happened?

“Shit,” Eddie breathed, feeling that familiar panic start to crawl up his spine. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Did that mean… Harrington hadn’t stopped Vecna? And if Harrington hadn’t stopped Vecna, then Max… and you…

Eddie stared at the massive gate for an endless moment, not knowing what to do. But the longer he stood there motionless, the more the hunger in his stomach was making itself known. It burned in the center of him, started making his thoughts fuzzy around the edges again.

Eddie shook his head, but the back of his throat still itched, felt tight and dry. Unbidden, the refreshing sensation of the raccoon blood pooling on his tongue jumped to the forefront of his mind, and his mouth fell open as he began to pant. The raccoon must have come through the enlarged gate, which meant there were more of them on the other side, more hot, pulsing blood--

“Fuck! Focus, Munson, focus,” he muttered to himself, clenching his eyes shut again.

It was one of your favorite phrases, usually accompanied by you snapping your fingers to redirect his attention to finishing an essay or studying for a test.

The memory of you sitting cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by textbooks, made the hunger recede again, like the tide going out, and Eddie exhaled a shaky breath.

He needed to find you. Make sure you were alright. Everything else— the gates, the hunger, the wings— it could all come later. 

Because you had to be alright. There was no way the world would keep turning without you in it. So you were fine, back in the real world. Just fucking fine.

He just needed to find you. You, then Henderson. Because Henderson would know what to do. That kid always had a plan.

Gathering his courage, Eddie opened his eyes and started walking toward the wreckage of his trailer. He ignored the scattered remnants of his life, stepping over his couch sawed in half, his broken stereo system, Uncle Wayne’s hats, until he was standing on the edge of the gate. With the ceiling of the trailer— and the trailer itself— gone, the portal between worlds was now just slashed into the ground. The red glow was almost blinding this close, and Eddie squinted against the glare.

His breathing was still jagged, his throat tight with fear. Hunger was a perpetual burning coal in his belly, his teeth fucking ached, and the wings on his back continued to twitch and remind him of their presence.

Eddie was fucking terrified, just as terrified as he’d been when the bats descended upon him, tore him apart.

But that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Just you. Always you.

Your face filled his thoughts, pushed down the hunger, the fear, the throbbing in his mouth.

Just you. Always you.

“O-Okay, I’m comin’, Obi, I’m coming,” Eddie said under his breath.

Then he closed his eyes, bent down, and shoved his hands through the gate.

The fleshy material tore beneath his claws like wet paper, and he crawled forward without thinking about it, trying to ignore how birth-like it felt to pass through the portal.

Thankfully, it was over quickly, and within moments Eddie was hauling himself up and into the real world, the wreckage of his actual trailer still surrounding him. He scrambled away from the gate, trying not to look at his clawed hands, but suddenly his senses were assaulted all at once, and he faceplanted into the dirt with a groan.

It was so warm here. Not hot, not exactly painful, but enough to be uncomfortable, to make his leather jacket feel like a prison. Then there were the noises. The crickets chirping, the hum of electricity, the distant murmur of voices, of cars. Eddie could hear it all. Like it was all being funneled straight into his brain through the best headphones money could buy. It was enough to make him want to rip his goddamn ears off.

But worse were the smells.

Garbage and grass, car exhaust, fire smoke, and underneath it all…

Blood.  

It was everywhere, Eddie could smell it everywhere. The animal hunger in him roared to the surface, clocking the stray cats under the trailer next to him, the rats in the tall weeds, the birds in the trees. And…

People. Eddie could hear people. Someone on the other end of the trailer park was watching TV in their living room. No, two people. He could hear them arguing, the raised tone of their voices, but the meaning of their words was lost because saliva was now pooling in his mouth.

Their blood smelled so much sweeter. Sweeter than the racoon, the cats and rodents around him. Eddie couldn’t describe it, words escaping him as all his senses zeroed in on the scent. From the direction and the raised voices, it had to be Paul and Deb. They were always arguing, always mean, sneering at him even when he was just a boy walking home from school.

The violent image of tearing Paul’s throat out flashed through Eddie’s thoughts, and that animal hunger in him rejoiced before his conscious weakly raised its head again.

No. No, he couldn’t kill Paul. He wasn’t a murder. He wasn’t a…

Monster.

The word whispered through his mind, echoed by the whispering of the wings against his back, and Eddie whined as he tore at his hair, claws digging into his scalp.

The pain centered him for a moment, long enough that he could think of your face again.

He needed to find you. Needed to find you. Needed you, you, you—

Again, a vision flashed across the darkness of his closed eyelids, but this time it was your throat he was tearing out, your wide eyes pleading as he slurped the blood straight from your neck.

“No!” Eddie snarled, carving his claws into his scalp and shaking his head vehemently.

No, he wasn’t going to hurt you. Could never hurt you. Would rather die than lay a finger on you.

But… this hunger inside him was so sharp, so deep. What if he couldn’t control himself? What if he did hurt you?

“No,” Eddie said again, but this time it was a whimper. His tone was pleading, though he didn’t know who he was begging. Certainly not God. The universe, maybe. The very fucking cosmos.

His eyes felt hot, but no tears came. He was starting to hyperventilate again, which only made the scent of Paul and Deb’s blood more cloying. But his trailer was in pieces around him, split in half by an interdimensional gate to hell. Wayne was probably dead. And if Eddie couldn’t go to you, he couldn’t go to Henderson, so he was… alone.

He was alone and so hungry and so fucking scared.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

“Obi,” Eddie sobbed without meaning to, all but tearing out clumps of his hair now. “Obi, p-please…”

Please, help me.

He crouched there and cried tearlessly for a moment, but his never-ending hunger wouldn’t let him rest. His stomach started to tie itself into knots, painful and tight, and he nearly snapped when Jinx, one of the park’s feral cats, slinked out of the shadows to meow at him. Eddie usually tossed scraps to the mangy feline when he took out the trash, and Jinx seemed to recognize him somewhat. But she kept her distance, meowing from several yards away, which was probably what saved her life.

Because Eddie could hear the blood pumping through the cat, could practically feel its warmth on his tongue. Saliva filled his mouth, his teeth throbbing, and Jinx seemed to recognize the danger because she turned and darted away, fading back into the shadows.

Eddie could still hear her heart pounding from under a trailer several spots down, but the distance gave him some clarity, and he shakily pushed himself to his feet.

He couldn’t stay here. He had to go. Go… somewhere. But away. Away from people, from things he could hurt.

Or kill.

Eddie stumbled out of the wreckage of his trailer and into the woods. It was only then that he realized it was dark, not full dark, but the deep purple bruise of twilight right as the sun slips beneath the horizon. The trees cast black shadows, but Eddie could see just fine in the gloom, like it was midday. This fact should have been surprising except he couldn’t feel anything beyond his hunger. It latched onto his brain, squeezing like a bear trap, and Eddie whined as he fought against it.

Once more, he conjured your face, your smile, the little crease between your eyes that you got whenever you were reading or thinking deeply about something. Eddie recalled every detail he could about you in an effort to stay sane. Your crooked fingers, broken from falling out of a tree when you were seven. Your lips that were forever chapped because you were always picking at them. The constellations of moles and birthmarks spiraling up and down your arms and the glimpses he’d caught of your back. The way you always leaned your head against his shoulder when you were too high and nodding off. The way you wiggled happily every time you had a bite of food you really liked. The way you said his name. Munson. Equal parts exasperated and affectionate.

Eddie clung to these vestiges of you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver, while the hunger, like waves, fought to overtake him. He was trying to keep his head above water, trying to summon up another memory to keep him afloat, when suddenly…

Your name.

It rang through his head like a bell, forcing his eyes open, and Eddie abruptly realized where he was.

He was standing in the woods across from your house, half a step back in the tree line and half hidden by a large trunk. His feet had carried him to you unwittingly, muscle memory from the many times he had walked you home since you lived only a few minutes away. Your street looked largely the same. There was a long crack in the middle of the road, splitting the asphalt, but the houses were all intact. And yours was a little less than fifty yards away.

And you. You were sitting on the steps of your front porch, smoking a cigarette like you were just waiting for him to pull up in his van and pick you up.

Except… god, your face.

Rage ignited in Eddie like a wildfire, and he felt an inhuman growl rumble in his chest, his claws digging into the tree trunk he was hiding behind.

The side of your face was a mottled mixture of blues and purples, and even from this distance— his vision was much better than it should be— Eddie could see the bloody and broken capillaries in your eyes. Your lip was split right down the middle, framed by more bruises, and the hand you weren’t smoking with was wrapped in a white cast that encased your wrist.

The scent of old blood lingered around you, but instead of making him hungry, it made him angry. Wrathful. Vengeful.

Who the fuck had hurt you?

The throbbing in Eddie’s teeth started to spread across his whole head like a virus, a curse. The bark beneath his claws was splintering, crushed by the force of his taut fingers, and his ears rang and rang and rang. He would kill whoever had done that to you. Tear them to shreds. Drink them dry—

Suddenly, the front door burst open right behind you, narrowly missing your hunched back by inches. A new scent— hot pumping blood, too-pungent cologne,  and fear— hit Eddie moments before recognition did.

[blue-aurora-nora]

So who is your favourite Hashira?

And how do you think the would be waiting for their tsugukos after a more complicated than usual mission?

My top favorite hashiras are Sanemi and Rengoku. But I’ll write for Sanemi!

Sanemi was sharp as steel on the outside. Losing your family in one night and seeking vengeance against demons for years to come will do that to you.

He was hard on everybody. There was no time for softness when Muzak could be getting stronger and stronger as each day passed.

And most people couldn’t handle the heat that Sanemi dealt during his strenuous ‘training sessions’.

That is, until you came along.

You appeared to be nothing special. Just another low-ranked demon slayer that was way over their head.

But when you survived Sanemi’s pulverizing training with little scars and a positive attitude, he knew that he wanted you to be his Tsuguko.

After talking with Ubuyashiki, you were called in and given the news.

The rest was history after that.

You proved yourself time and time again that you were a fierce demon slayer much like Sanemi.

But one day, you bid Sanemi a goodbye and he stilled at that, “Bye? The hell do you mean ‘bye’?” He’d asked you.

You were bowing low to him and sat up to explain yourself, “This mission I’m being sent on has had a lot of casualties. I’m being sent as one of the last options. If I fail, then one of the hashiras will be called in…” You took a deep breath, “I’m saying goodbye in case I don’t make it, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi gritted his teeth at you, those cold eyes of his looking you up and down as if you were stupid. “(Y/N), you’re not going to die. You’re my tsuguko.”

���I’m not doubting your training, I’m just being realistic. We recently just lost Rengoku, did we not? This demon could be an underling of Muzan.”

“You’re talking crazy, I didn’t teach you to have this kind of attitude-“

“No.” You interrupted him. He was disturbed by how clear your eyes were, “My mother taught me this. I never got to say goodbye to her and I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

You bowed again and slowly rose to stand up, “I have to go now.” You turned heel and paused, looking at your teacher again, “Goodbye, Sanemi.”

Sanemi didn’t say anything. He had been flooded with a plethora of feelings he had shut himself away from for years.

And instead of getting angry at you-

He was left with a heavy sadness that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he trained or went on missions to beat it out onto other demons.

A week passed and you still hadn’t come back. He hoped that the mission was just far away.

Another 3 days passed, you still weren’t back. Maybe you were sent on another mission while you were out?

Two weeks now, you weren’t there. You must’ve been walking slow.

It had almost been three weeks when your crow came to his area and loudly announced that you’d successfully taken down the demon but had been critically injured. You were currently being held at the Butterfly Mansion.

Sanemi had never ran so fast.

When he arrived, he was taken to your private room. You were receiving a blood transfusion and sound asleep.

Shinobu was quick to explain that you’d received numerous wounds, one of which needed surgery. You’d also lost a good bit of blood that was also lost during surgery which was why the blood transfusion was needed.

The butterfly hashira wasn’t sure when you’d wake up, but she would be checking on you regularly since you’d received a bad concussion as well.

To say that Sanemi was relieved would be an understatement.

This wasn’t goodbye after all.

You awoke a week later and Sanemi was quick to threaten you with an agonizing training session.

You smiled weakly, “I almost die and this is how you treat me. I was hoping for a rare smile.”

He crossed his arms, “I trained you better than to almost die, dipshit. You were supposed to come out with few wounds.” He glanced at the bandages decorating your body, “It’s obvious that you need more training so this doesn’t happen again.”

You couldn’t even be mad at him. Sanemi was mean but you could see that he was hurt. He didn’t really think that you were weak.

He was saying this because he cared.

“I… I was really scared, you know.” Tears began to well in your eyes, “I really thought I was done for." You don't know why you were so emotional now. It might've been the pain medications that were being pumped into you.

Sanemi's glare softened ever so slightly and he sighed, "Don't start with that mushy stuff. You've made me suffer enough... We've both suffered enough... just... just don't do that again, you hear me?"

You wiped the tears from your face with a shaky hand, "No promises."

I'm such a bitch for platonic relationships! Don't be afraid to request more!

[degenrcy]

deeper than love (3) ao3 link <-

he can only be so successful, you know

kinda short, not a lot of action sorry !!

warnings: incest, noncon, yeah...

you were a brave freshman, taking on high school by yourself- shig graduated a few years back. he was... supposed to be in college by now, but that's okay. everyone goes at their own pace. it was your first day!

"c-come on, shig-nii, i'm gonna be late again!" you whined, holding desperately onto the edge of the bed. you threw your head back when your brother's dick slid inside you quite forcefully- ah when was it not?

"shut the fuck uuuup, dude." he slapped a hand over your mouth, slowly thrusting in and out. god he loved the feeling, nothing topped it. no other girl felt as good as you ever did. he can't believe he's been getting away with it for so long, all the credit has to go to your parents. they shelter you enough as is, they didn't want you to end up like your failure fuck-up older brother, so they force you to bedtime and the only place you can be by yourself is at school after your loving brother drops you off everyday.

the same loving, caring, amazing brother who has been training you to be his personal free-use toy for... hm, a long, long time. he cums in your mouth before school, calls it your energy boost. he convinced you breakfast wasn't that important- just like food in general. he wanted you small and frail forever. might as well engrain an eating disorder into you too while he was at it.

he slapped your cute little butt after he shoved you out his rank, dirty car. you watched him speed off, hearing the bass from his music trail off when he got to the end of the street. you sighed, limping up the steps to class.

"today my presentation is about sexual assault." your peer stood in front of the class nervously, what a mature topic!!

"sexual assault is non-consensual sexual acts..." cue giggling from your class and a shush from your teacher. "sexual assault is usually done by someone you know- a friend, a family member, or another adult you may know."

wow, what kind of friend or family member would do something against your will?

"the sibling incest rape rates in the country are as follows,"

you furrowed your eyebrows.

you raised your hand, perfectly clipped and manicured nails, because your brother wanted you cute and clean at all times, especially if your hand was gonna be around his dick a lot.

"y/n, question?" your teacher smiled. she was glad someone was being respectful.

"so, this is bad to you?" you quirked your head. the whole class fell silent. your teacher looked bewildered. "my brother rapes me all the time, he told me it's completely normal and good!"

your teacher scrambled to the phone, the whole class still quiet.

ever since that day, you've been stuck in therapy sessions three times a week and constantly monitored. shigaraki no longer lived with the family anymore. you had to move schools, no one could forget that day and cruel students liked to make sure no one else did.

"you could fuck y/n, she let her brother hit." boys would bet on it, others were disgusted at the thought.

"i feel bad, but how could you not know that it was wrong! i was there when she told the class- she was all like-" girls avoided you.

at this point, you were more depressed about all the bullying and assumptions than the trauma you actually endured. a few years went by- it was a lonely few years. your brother surely wasn't that bad the whole time, right?

you knocked at his door- you spent very little time finding where he lived. thank god they posted the addresses of registered sex offenders online. your parents were probably getting ready to tear apart the entire neighborhood looking for you, then kill themselves when they realized where you really were.

the door creaked open, revealing an arm, and shoulder, neck, half body- hair- face.

bags under his eyes, stubble, platinum blue dyed hair. the dark eyes, piercing through you.

"y/n?" his voice was so much deeper.

"hi, big brother."

you pushed open the door, pressing the taser mom bought you into his stomach. he fell over without a sound, spazzing a bit on the floor. you jabbed it in his side for good measure, watching his body writhe.

you got to work tying up his wrists behind his back. he was still super skinny, and his place was filthy. his computer was still on, the fans of the pc whirring loudly, blue illuminating the dark corner of his room, tempting you. as a kid, you always wanted to know what he was typing so furiously away at.

he groaned, looking up at you through his bangs. his eyes flicked to the computer, then back to you.

your mouth went dry, heart heavy. he was even more disgusting than you ever perceived. this was who he was? "you're sick, shigaraki."

you crouched down to his level, his eyes quickly darted between your legs, looking at your panties through your dark tights. you smacked him hard, making him gasp out.

"you really can't help yourself, huh?" you wanted to cry.

"you really shouldn't be here, y/n. go home. mom and dad'll kill you."

you frowned, standing up again. your fingers shook, delicate. you lifted your school skirt up by the hems, his lips quivering open and eyes trailing back down to your bottom half. you revealed yourself to him, like old times.

"do you really want me to leave so soon, shig-nii?"

[crystalelemental]

Unit Teambuilding - Grusha

This one's weird. Iono has a lot of popularity and is a Pokemon Company favorite, so it makes sense she gets in as a PokeFair. But Grusha? I didn't think Grusha pulled that much popularity. Then again, I guess he's just "Volkner but a good character," so he's pulling in all the sad boi fanatics. I can't judge. We all know I have my types that get me, too.

General Overview Grusha comes in as an Ice support.  Not just any Ice support though.  This is a man with Ice Zone.  That's right, for the first time in a long while, we have Role Compression Support.  For the unfamiliar, my stance on these kinds of supports is "Automatically excellent."  Being able to remove the need for a Tech pair that supplies the field effect opens up options for debuffers or secondary DPS pairs that really expands your range of effects.  SS Kris, SS Morty, and Ingo were pioneers of this approach, and all three were, and still are, excellent.  Even NC Calem, who I am often shitting on for his buddy move conditional, is fantastic because of this compression.  Grusha doesn't even have the Buddy move hangup, so he's got that going for him.  In addition, he offers some fairly nice tools, including Team Fierce Entry 2 for a pop injection of Atk, team recovery per action under Zone, accelerated gauge under Zone and Revenge Boost 9, Impervious and access to Vigilance on grid, and disruptive effects in Flinch and Freeze from Ice Fang.  His Buddy move, despite its two-turn nature, negates an attack thrown at him before counterattacking, including voiding an entire AoE move against the team, and inflicts a -3 Atk/Sp Atk debuff on the target, which is all great for survival.  So hey, Grusha's set to be top tier.

Except no, he isn't.  While I am a huge advocate for these kinds of compressed roles, Grusha encounters a serious problem on closer inspection.  Consider this: what made SS Kris, SS Morty, and Ingo so effective?  What makes NC Calem so good that the Gamepress tier list ranks him as the third best support in the game despite his many failures?  In all of these situations, they are good on offense.  Kris boosts Sp Atk, Ingo boosts physical attack, and Calem hits both.  Kris is well aligned to her type as many Water types emphasize special, while Ingo is good for Sandstorm as almost everyone who cares about it is physical.  Calem's decisions have some questionable elements, but he better supports physical Water than Kris, while emphasizing the common physical Dark types.  Even Morty, who doesn't do much for offense, is well aligned, as most Fire types have been in a three-year arms race with SS Red for better and better self-sufficiency, and rarely if ever need more than what Morty offers, instead just appreciating that he covers speed.

Now look at Grusha.  +2 Atk on entry if desired.  Dire Hit All+.  Maybe Pep Rally on his TM.  Atk/Sp Atk debuffs. He does nothing for special Ice types, which is for the best as Irida covers that far too well, but it would've been nice to have the option since special ice setup is a nightmare.  But for physical, he's...nothing novel.  Candice's setup isn't entirely solved through him, and he's not a support for Hail, just Ice, so her weather creates the need for Snow Shelter on grid.  Hala's setup is fine, just add Zone, which can be done cheaper with Glaceon eggmon.  Summer Steven honestly wants more help with Atk than Grusha provides.  Silver desperately wishes Grusha would debuff speed with that Buddy move so he contributed something to his nuke.  SS N is the obvious beneficiary, having his sync very well accounted for, but frankly SS N is a better DPS pair and prefers PMUN stackers to blast things apart.  Grusha is maladapted to his type.  You can't even argue the merits of just having Ice Zone broadly, because any specially offensive Ice type is better served by Irida's compression of high DPS, Sp Def debuffs, inclusion of Hail to solve Blizzard accuracy and apply grid multipliers, and freeing up better supports that do more for Ice types' notorious poor setup.

This leaves Grusha to the role of generalist, where he under-performs compared to Winter Sycamore who just left. Sycamore does exactly what Grusha does, but with better gauge, and with Rebuff to negate the common Extreme Battle condition of Acute Senses, and allows you to take "No Field Effect Change" in CS for a nice chunk of free points. Honestly, without any substantial healing under his belt and a two-turn move, he's arguably worse off than Halloween Phoebe, who I absolutely did not respect. So if he's not useful to his type, and he's not a great generalist, what is he? The fourth Ice Support for a hypothetical Ice High Score. You're getting him in case they only make five supports by the time that type drops. Is this a worthwhile concern? Not to me. But then I don't invest in the good Ice types, only the bad ones because it's funny how hard Irida carries.

EX, Role, and Move Level? Support, so 3/5 recommended. Especially with his base kit being so generally poor, give him the help he needs. 5/5 gets nice traits, but oddly no Zone extension. Role is Tech, just for stats, don't think it's worth it.

Team 1: Grusha, SS N, Colress Realistically, this is what Grusha is built for. SS N wants every aspect of what Grusha puts down, particularly for his sync nuke. I personally think this is less advantageous to N compared to PMUN stacking via NC Rosa, but to each their own. Colress should bottom out defense so N can contribute the most.

Team 2: Grusha, SS Silver, Masked Royal Grusha can attempt to salvage Silver, who can grid Pinpoint Entry for the sure hits. Grusha gives crits, and Masked Royal gives team speed, which can conserve Silver's Buddy move nuke for when it's ready. Problem: the condition is max HP. Grusha cannot heal him. I think this is honestly the worst drawback because it renders Silver a relatively poor choice overall.

Team 3: Grusha, Candice, Summer Steven It's really hard to get a good F2P team going. Candice is the obvious nuke, appreciating the Zone boost tremendously, as well as the +2 Atk that removes a turn of her buffing. Summer Steven has the DPS inclusion for if you want to let Grusha sync first, though you are then reliant on a quad queue or a denial/flinch. Best of luck.

Team 4: Grusha, Irida, BP Candice If you really want to pair Grusha with Irida, for whatever possible reason, it's best to run another Hail setter like BP Candice. Alignment with Sinnoh and all. The thing is, I don't think this is optimal. I'm just saying you can use the other two to alleviate Irida's setup. If you want.

Team 5: Grusha, NC Red, SS Hilbert This is what I think is better. Irida and NC Blue can operate independently, and I think that's legitimately for the best. They're strong enough to clear on their own. In this case, Grusha is sensible as a partner with Red on his own, thanks to application of the Zone for him. Admittedly I struggle to think of a sane third, but SS Hilbert converts to Ice, and has Sp Def debuffs and the third rebuff, so like...sure?

Final Thoughts Grusha can participate, and a multiplicative field effect is never strictly bad. But this feels like an ongoing bit where DeNA keeps making Ice types kinda bad for no real reason. Maybe they just don't like Ice. It's winter, so I'm inclined to agree with them for the next three months.

[acesknights]

° × Warlock Background info post ° ×

CW: Small warning for the post as there will be gore art near the end of this post 🫶

I wanted to make a small(ish) post about warlocks backstory/info because I've been practically only relying on what i find in my notes app and what i remember in my head about him

I'll update this as i go / more info is added into this oc

Info under cut <3

// General information //

Name: Adrian Jan Gruszczyński

Aliases: Warlock

Rank: lieutenant

Affiliations: Shadow Company, GROM [formally]

D. O. B: [09/09/1988] September 9th 1988

Age: 37 Years

Gender: Male - Cisgender

Nationality: Polish

Ethnicity: (West) Slavic

Laterality: Right side dominant

Blood type: O+

Languages: Polish, English, Russian

Personality Type: ISTJ

Specialises in: Long-range-marksmanship, CQC, covert infiltration

Weapon of choice: Barrett MRAD Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle + SIG MCX-SPEAR LT Assault Rifle

// Appearence //

Eye colour: Light Blue

Hair colour: Dark Auburn

Height: 187CM

Weight: 75KG

Body type: athletic

Any markings and/or scars: smaller scars on his arms and legs from small accidents while on the field ie - barbed wire, knife/sharp abrasions.

Deep knife lacerations on his back that required stitches [now healed leaving deep visable scarring]

Chemical burn across the right side of his face, going down to his collar bone - his hair, ear, and neck being affected by the said burn - his right eye sustained little to no damage yet that is subject to change but currently the burn had only eaten away at a large amount of his face, exposing/ripping apart part of his lips - leaving half his mouth always shown.

That severity of a burn had led to him requiring a skin graph from his thigh, more surgeries would be needed in the future to better fix this injury.

The same chemical burn scarring also being on his right forearm, the scarring there hadn't caused major damage as it was partially burned from splashback from the chemicals being thrown onto him but still required the same attention and overlook incase it were to damage his ability to use said arm

// Mannerisms //

Best traits: Tactical Acumen , Loyalty , adaptability to situations

Worst traits: Neuroticism, abrasive nature, known to have workaholic tendencies

Mannerisms: He has a tendency to respond in a brutally honest manner - a trait he had picked up from how he was brought up. He's highly observant, frequently assessing his surroundings and the people around him, which contributes to his tactical acumen. Despite his stoic exterior, he shows support for his team through subtle gestures, like a reassuring nod or a brief, reassuring touch on ones shoulder. Adrian may engage in tactile behaviors like adjusting his gear, checking his weapons over when in deep thought or contemplation before deployment.

// Family //

Relatives: [N/A]

Relationship status: Divorced - 'Katarzyna Gruszczyńska' [estranged]

Children: 'Anya Gruszczyńska' [deceased]

Extra: carries romantic feelings towards his Commander 'Phillip Graves'

// Background //

- Adrian had began his career in the Polish Army when he had enlisted at aged 19, specializing in covert operations and unconventional warfare. He excelled in reconnaissance and stealth missions.

- Special Forces Training: Adrian's exceptional skills caught the attention of the top brass, leading to his selection for specialized training within Poland's elite GROM unit. He honed his skills in marksmanship, infiltration, and hand-to-hand combat.

- While Adrian was still serving in the GROM unit, a mission involving counter-terrorism took an unexpected and horrific turn as Adrian was part of an operation to neutralize a dangerous extremist group responsible for multiple attacks across the time-span of three years. During a high-risk raid on a remote compound that was found inside of a large town, a hostage situation had occurred. This tragically claimed the life of their young daughter, Anya - who had been staying with Katarzyna's parents at the time. Adrian had to witness first-hand the death of his only daughter in front of him. The only view he had was from the scope of his Sniper Rifle

- The loss of their child was an unbearable burden on Adrian and Katarzyna as grief and guilt overwhelmed them both - knowing that this turn of events could've been stopped much earlier than before, yet the two of them had tried to overcome this grief in two vastly different and unhealthy ways. Adrian's relentless commitment to his military career as a coping mechanism drove a wedge between them both - he threw himself into his work seeking solace in the missions to distract himself from the loss of Anya. While Katarzyna could not bear the pain and distanced herself emotionally from him, thus straining and ruining their relationship with one another.

- Overtime, It eventually led to their estrangement, with both of them unable to find a way to heal and reconnect amid the painful memories of their once beloved child. The two agreed to their own separate ways and eventually divorced.

- Shadow Company Recruitment: Adrian's skills and experience eventually caught the attention of the private military organization, Impressed by his service history, they offered him a position that aligned with his talents.

- Injury: During one of his mission within Shadow Company, a mission that Adrian was tasked on had gone south all of a sudden - leading to a gunfight with the enemy rather quickly. Said gunfight leading to Adrian getting hit with a nasty chemical burn across his face and upper left arm. This injury left him unable to serve fully for multiple months, leading him to need multiple different facial reconstruction / skin graphs surgeries to help aid in the healing and lessening the look of this injury he had sustained.

// Images below that show his injury: // + coloured in varient

[pavvo20]

The Spark - Chapter 15: Down They Go - Poe Dameron/OC

Summary: When her childhood best friend recruits her during an undercover mission for the Resistance, Captain Kara Embers embraces her family legacy and joins the fight against the First Order. As the secrets of her past come to light, Kara never expects to be training with her mom’s best friend, flying her father’s ship, and falling in love with the Yavin-4 boy who always said he’d be the galaxy’s best pilot.

A/N: Work, writer's block, migraines, family non-sense...here we are with yet another twist in our evolving story. I actually have a few chapters in the bank here but I'm working getting it all to be cohesive and back to some of my better prose. We'll see where that ends up.

Warnings: violence, language, sarcasm, moodiness, whump, fluff, kissing, ya know.. all that stuff. and well, ghosts.

Links: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10| Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Masterlist on my blog!

Word Count - 5.2K (going shorter this run.. but the long one's will be back!)

"Embers! Dameron!" Connix sounded frightened from the other side of the durasteel door to their quarters. "General Organa needs you in the command center now!"

Poe was still half asleep when he felt Kara roll herself out of bed. They'd just passed out, especially after their overwhelmingly productive night in the hanger. If he had a guess, he'd been asleep for barely an hour.

Nightwatch must have found something on the radar. Something big.

He caught the glow of her data pad in her tired eyes, there weren't any notifications. At least not from Leia.

"Must be Luke." He groaned, easing his tired body from the thin mattress to get dressed. "But this isn't what I thought he meant when he said early."

"It's not." Kara huffed, as she pulled a hooded duster over her tank top. "Something's wrong."

She handed him his belt and blaster as she unwrapped her lightsaber and clipped it to her hip. Poe could feel her concern before he noticed it on her face. She was feeling something that he wasn't...something that made her wildly uncomfortable.

He caught her bicep as she turned to the door, "Hey...what is it? You are never this anxious."

Kara sighed, "I'll tell you after this ok?"

Poe simply nodded, biting back the desire to press her for more information as she led them both out the door and down the hall. His gut twisted as he noticed Kara didn't tie her hair back in it's usual 'all business' braid and she let the hood of her duster remain on her head. It broke every military rule that was ever engrained in her being... especially given the urgency of Leia's call.

When they entered the command center, he felt Kara's heart stop beating as three high-ranking New Republic officials turned to follow Leia's gaze. All but one were relatively unfamiliar to Poe, as he knew Senior Admiral Sinclair, the current leader of the second largest military in the galaxy.

"Admirals, for what do we owe the pleasure?" Poe shook each of their hands, noticing the battered and beaten appearance of their uniforms and surface injuries. They'd been attacked on their way to them...likely narrowly escaping with the only ship they could manage to get out of First Order airspace without being spotted.

"The New Republic is no more..." The Senior Admiral lamented, his eyes darting to Kara's hooded form as his words weighed heavily on the room. "The First Order has infiltrated and taken over from the inside."

"We had several moles who orchestrated the attack in concert with Kylo Ren's arrival on Coruscant." The younger of the two vice admirals said, locking eyes with Poe and glancing quickly at Leia. "If there's anyone who is choosing to fight against them, they likely are already dead."

"How did you all avoid capture?" Poe inquired, "I am shocked we aren't getting a galaxy wide holo reporting your deaths."

"We were off-planet for a conference with several senators." The older of the vice admirals spoke this time, looking at his comrades before making eye contact with anyone in a Resistance uniform. "Sinclair and West were brought in for strategic support and I am glad they were."

"If Vice Admiral Jenkins hadn't called us in, I fear we would have been killed." Sinclair looked to Leia, "Publically. By Kylo Ren."

There was an obvious pang of guilt in Leia's chest as she glanced at Kara and Poe. Ren went looking for them, hoping they'd be there negotiating supplies, only to come up short. It wouldn't take too long for him to realize his mistake... and take it out on anyone who got in the way of his continued search.

She saw Kara blink as her hand brushed the hood of her duster back off her head, revealing herself more formally to the room. The New Republic brass recognized her immediately, especially one Vice Admiral West.

The younger man leaned against the holotable, a smirk playing on his lips as Kara's piercing green eyes met his gaze. "You faked your death for this?"

"I didn't fake my death for anyone." She quipped, "In fact, I defected in complete adherence to New Republic code."

Poe immediately put the pieces together. Kara's anxiety wasn't tied to the fact that Kylo Ren had taken over the New Republic or even that this had warranted waking them both from a dead sleep. She was used to the chaos that the war tended to bring to her life, hell she created a lot of it. But running into her ex-fiance in the middle of the night, on the Resistance's secret new base, with a lightsaber on her hip... well, this was uncharted territory.

"And to be clear, Vice Admiral West, you have defected from your own military due to a hostile takeover of your very own command. I think the last thing we want to get into right now is the details of my choice to leave the New Republic."

Leia let a smile tug at her lips as Kara cocked an eyebrow at her ex. He immediately blushed.

"Fair enough...Cap-" He stumbled over her former rank.

"Commander." She said cooly, sensing his discomfort. "Commander Embers of Black Squadron."

All eyes immediately fell to Poe, who was known galaxy-wide as the one and only infamous leader of the Resistance's Black Squadron. They figured it would have been a warm day on Hoth before he'd ever share the role with someone else.

Poe smiled, "You guys lost a good one."

"Well, we hope you'll be willing to give us a place to organize our next steps, General." Sinclair said, "And maybe lend us our former strategy officer for a few hours while we figure out how to get out from underneath this mess?"

Leia could feel the tension in the room subsiding a little bit but not too much, "We will happily give you the protection you need. It's Commander Embers' call on her time."

Kara's eyes flickered to Leia before catching a micro-expression of shock cross the faces of New Republic leadership. Leia could have ordered Kara to help them...and they were surprised that she didn't. Sure, Kara was a trusted officer but that rarely meant she called any of her own shots...especially when one considered the fact that she was sharing a squadron with a pilot like Dameron.

"I should have some time I can share with you, Admiral." She said, sounding as close to her old military self as she could. "That's barring any major Resistance needs of course. My duty is to my own people first. I would assume you understand that."

"Of course, Commander. That's no problem."

The room fell silent for a moment as Leia motioned for Connix to warn the medical staff of their new arrivals and send for keys to 3 vacant rooms. The general then turned back to the group, a more serious look gracing her kind features. "Now, a few ground rules gentlemen."

She popped up a map of their base on the holotable, pointing out their new living quarters, the mess, the hanger, and anywhere that would require an escort or someone with a security clearance. She also pointed out the medical bay, supply hangers, and communications tower, just in case they became relevant.

"I hope I make myself clear when I say that while we respect your military service, your ranks do not hold any weight here. You are basically civilians in our care unless otherwise noted. It's to ensure that our people do not get confused...but also, for our own protection."

"We are far from war criminals, General." Jenkins interrupted, sounding a bit irritated.

"I know that, Vice Admiral...but given you were infiltrated by your own people, I have to do what's best for the Resistance. Ren wants the galaxy to himself...and I have some of the best fighters this revolution has ever seen. I cannot afford to lose them because I chose to blindly trust an old friend."

They smiled at each other, Jenkins hiding the pink that seemed to dust his cheeks, "You haven't changed at all, General Organa...My sincerest apologies for my tone. I understand completely."

"Also, consider everything that you see on this base to be classified. Anyone's identity, physical appearance, rank, skillset... all of it. Not a peep to the outside world or we will prosecute you under our own code."

Sinclair, West and Jenkins looked to each other before glancing back at Leia and her contingency, noticing her receiving their new keys from a passing Connix as she rested a hand on both Kara and Poe's shoulders. General Organa ran a tight operation, one that seemed to defy all the odds considering it was still afloat. All three considered themselves lucky that they had found them at all. Stealing a supply ship whose computer was never security wiped was one thing. They just went to wherever the autopilot had taken them...and at that second, they were overwhelmingly thankful it was Leia.

They stood a chance at giving the New Republic the hope it so desperately needed with Leia on their side... so, they could play by her rules until they recovered from this blow. At least that was the initial plan.

She handed each of them a card to their respective rooms, "Go ahead and get some rest, we can reconvene on a few other matters in the morning."

The two older admirals nodded appreciatively and headed out. Vice Admiral West turned to the door and hesitated. Poe glanced at Kara, silently directing her attention to the other man with a look. A second later, West locked eyes with her. "Can we.."

She nodded, and followed him briefly to the hallway. Leia could see the apprehension rippling across the girl's features. Kara wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, curled up tight with the man whose family ring hung from her neck, but this was a good test for her. West wanted closure... and deep down, so did she.

Vice Admiral West stepped just beyond the door to the command center, giving them a little more light in the dimly lit durasteel hall as his ex-fiance turned to face him. Kara looked tired but that wasn't unusual for her. West couldn't remember the last time he had seen her hair down, let alone the freckles that dusted her nose. She was also thinner than he remembered her being, clearly still skilled enough to take him to his knees but the war had worn her down a bit.

"You could have at least told me that you were thinking of defecting." He started, "I mean, we were only a few weeks from getting married."

"And listen to you order me to stay and guilt me into marrying you sooner?" Kara was firm and emotionless. "Hayden, don't do this."

The man sighed, an exasperated hand running through his sweaty blonde locks. "Kara...what happened to us?"

"I'm not answering that question." He swore her tone had gotten colder. Her eyes showed him the pain she was doing her damndest to hide. "And I didn't fake my death. I got on Dameron's ship the night I ditched Matt and he reported me dead on his own accord. I can't prove it but I'm certain that he thought he would have gotten a promotion."

"I'm sure he'll tell you one day that the days of interrogations were not worth it."

"You court-martialed him?"

"Of course I did. He was the so-called lone witness to the death of the love of my life and insisted he saw nothing?" Hayden snapped, getting rather defensive at Kara's surprise. "It was bantha shit and I knew it but it wasn't like I could just call you and prove it."

Kara bit her lip, remembering just how quickly she dumped all her trackers and comms devices before jumping on the freighter with Poe. She had fallen off everyone's radar for a month before Leia had arranged for her to formally defect.

It didn't matter. She didn't regret her choice. "If you are expecting an apology from me... it's not coming."

Hayden cocked an eyebrow, inspecting the woman in front of him as if she had slapped him in the face. She had always been stubborn, but this was a bit beyond her usual bullheadedness. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, reevaluating what he thought he knew about her. This wasn't the same woman he'd fallen for after she saved his life.

She could feel his mind raking her over, looking for a sign of the woman he'd proposed to. Hayden West was an admiral, his parents were high-ranking Galactic officials, with generational wealth and power. He had graduated with the same high honors that she had. There were women all over the galaxy, let alone the New Republic ranks, falling all over him – and yet he had picked her.

Kara remembered allowing herself to fall for him...only to realize a few years later that he was just as jaded as the rest of the high-ranking officers of the New Republic. He passed on writing her a letter of recommendation for promotion, claiming conflict of interest, but proceeded to control each and every mission she'd get after that. He was the reason they'd commissioned her air operations to someone else – just to make sure she was available to be present for all his formal political lunches.

He wanted her to be a traditional admiral's wife – and when he'd taken liberty to have her shifted out of special forces, he woke up to find her engagement ring on his desk and any trace of her in their shared apartment wiped clean.

It was only a few hours after that, Matt had found her on Tatooine and drawn her back in. He had given her back her phone, commlink, and insisted she help him find their mark and come home to Coracuant. They'd gotten close until Dameron had sat down next to her at the bar...

"You could at least apologize for not saying goodbye."

Kara rolled her eyes. "How about I'm sorry for bruising your fragile ego?"

She could sense him trying to reign in a snarl. He was hoping she was going to be a little happier to see him. Especially after hearing about what happened to the New Republic as a whole. The last thing he had anticipated was her indifference.

"I left you for a number of reasons, Hayden. You know what most of them are." She said, her arms crossing over her chest. "I left the New Republic because I believe in a peaceful, fair, and diplomatic galaxy... Leia was the reason I pursued the Academy in the first place, it made too much sense for me to serve under her, especially when the republic started to play more and more into the hands of imperial lobbyists."

He balked. Kara waved a hand to stop him from interrupting.

"What I could have done politically would have never made me happy Hayden... and you know that better than anyone. I was far from the stoic and silent admiral's wife you wanted me to be."

"So, you went back to the front lines?" He murmured, "You are better than this, Kara."

"No one person is better than the next. Not in life, and especially not in war. You are only as good as your weakest man."

"And you understand your weakest man is a farmer from Ferrik?" Hayden quipped, seeing her emotions flare in her eyes. "You guys can barely keep your squadrons in the air."

"Yet, we took out a dreadnought."

"What happened to you?" He questioned again, taking a step into her space. Kara stiffened a second, letting her right hand drift to her hip. Hayden liked to intimidate...and he'd more likely yell at her before he'd ever lay a hand on her but she wasn't taking any chances. Especially with his emotions running as wild as they were.

His voice softened as he reached a hand up and brushed stray hair away from her face. "You were always a fighter, Kara but this is insanity and you know it."

"Not nearly as insane as the entirety of the New Republic falling to the First Order from the inside."

He chuckled as a bit of embarrassment flushed his cheeks, causing the arrogance to fade from his features. It was the first time he had seen a smile he recognized from her as the warmth returned to her gaze. She was right. As per usual.

"You need to rest." She whispered as she let her hand drift down his arm, her fingers recognizing the singed fabric of dodged blaster fire. "Get a few hours before the nightmares start."

Hayden could hear the sincerity in her tone. "I take it you have some experience with this."

"You could say that." Kara sighed, "Loss is a pretty regular thing around here."

Hayden nodded as he closed his eyes apologetically. "I'm sorry, Kara. For everything."

Kara felt her heart ache as those five words hit her ears, the man had finally cauterized her bleeding heart. Even if he had no idea he had. It would take an interrogation droid to get him to admit to the pain he'd caused her, but she didn't need that. All she ever wanted to hear from him was I'm sorry.

The door to the command center slid open and Hayden instinctively stepped back, his muscles going rigid until he realized that it was only Poe Dameron, heading back to his own bed for the night.

"General suggested heading to bed, as we've all got a lot on our plates for tomorrow." He said, trying his best to sound more like a thoughtful commander than a simply nosey friend. He wanted to know what the man had said to Kara to shift her aura back to normal... especially after the tension he'd felt within her before. "I'll show you your quarters, Admiral."

"Yea - Thanks Commander." Hayden said, trying his best to appear polite. "Goodnight Commander Embers."

"Goodnight Admiral." Kara said, feeling Poe's protective hand press against her back as he passed her. She'd bring him up to speed when they got back to their room.

************************************************************************

The men had walked to the other side of the base in silence until Hayden simply couldn't take it anymore. "So, how long have you both known each other?"

Poe cocked an eyebrow at the other man, it was an innocent question. One he knew that the admiral had the answer to.... "Our parents were friends and we were born a few weeks apart... so, pretty sure that counts as our entire lives."

"Your parents helped raise her then?"

"Kinda. We both lost our moms when we were 8...and Kara lost her dad a few years later so Leia and Han took her in after that. It was only a couple years though, then she left for the Academy."

Hayden could see a flicker of curiosity in the pilot's eyes, "and that night on Tatooine was the first time you'd had contact with her since then?"

"Something like that... but I'd stopped keeping track." He unlocked the man's door, handing him the key as he stepped away from the frame. "She was looking for a way out, Admiral. I simply presented her with an opportunity."

Poe watched West nod, "She's changed a lot since then."

"We all have." The pilot leaned against the wall, glancing down at his datapad once before looking back to the man in the doorway in front of him. "There aren't too many people that have endured as much as she has and come out exactly the same as they once were."

"I guess that's fair."

"You'll see more of the girl you knew as you get settled in." Poe said, giving the man a reassuring smile. "It's hard for anyone to be themselves when you're startled out of a good night's sleep."

As Poe headed back to his room, he could feel another headache brewing behind his eyes. He was exhausted, and knowing that it would take him easily several more hours now to fall asleep was not helping his cause.

He sensed Luke in the common area before he saw him, "My mom mentioned that you could help with these migraines."

The older Jedi let a smile play on his lips, "I can...but you aren't going to like how I have to do it."

Poe gritted his teeth as his mind assaulted him again. "Pretty sure I don't care anymore."

Luke chuckled a bit, putting his hand on the man's shoulder as he felt him wrestle with the pain. It was definitely a trauma induced migraine, one that had been encouraged out of hiding by their latest batch of visitors. "Sit."

Poe compiled, almost too willingly as the man seemed to study each of his grimaces.Luke could see him hesitating already, "I am going to need you to be completely vulnerable with me, Poe. Any kind of resistance is going to only make it worse."

"Shit." The young man growled, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to convince himself he could do this. He had built up so many walls against the Jedi, it was going to take more than just asking him to let go to get him to give in.

"Take your time. Deep breaths." Luke soothed, seeing the frustration beading in the sweat forming on Poe's forehead. "Contrary to popular belief, you can trust me."

"He's not wrong Sparkplug, in and out." His mother's voice echoed in his ears, "You can do this..."

He found a rhythm in his breathing as he pushed himself to relax, trying to remember the trees and breeze on Yavin or the feeling of his mother's arms wrapped around his shoulders again. It wasn't a foolproof strategy, but it was starting to cause him to nod off.

"There ya go... don't be afraid to let yourself fall asleep." Luke coached, seeing the tension leaving the pilot's face. "All you have to do is let me in, Poe."

It only took a few more minutes - and the peaceful reminder of only a few hours before where he had Kara pressed against his chest as a rare cool Ajan Kloss breeze rolled past them in the hanger - when he barely felt Luke slip into his mind.

The Jedi's presence was overwhelmingly different from when Ren forced himself in, and even lighter than the times when he didn't have the strength to fight to keep the Supreme Leader out. His inherently good aura didn't burn as it wound itself in between his memories, looking for the ones that had become a bit too dark.

Luke was surprised to see just how many times Poe had warded off the temptation to give in to the dark side of the Force. It was a surprise to see just how many times the man had been beaten within inches of his life or robbed of those he loved. The memory of his brutal interrogation at the hands of Kylo Ren remained at the front of Poe's mind, pulsing as the fears the Dark Jedi had projected into his head seemed to hint at coming to life before his eyes. What scared Skywalker was just how deep the tendrils of the dark thought had spread into Dameron's otherwise spirited soul.

It was hard to believe that something so sinister had been executed by his own nephew, who was once soft, empathetic and understanding like his mother. The power he used to push Shara's boy to break or die resisting his intrusion was ancient, angry, and aggressive. Poe's torture scarred his mind in ways that Luke wasn't sure he could mend... but he had to try.

"Poe, I need you to think about Kara." He instructed, feeling Poe instinctively start to build up his defenses. "Just let her wander into your thoughts..."

It didn't take long for Dameron's memories to shift, his defenses falling away as love took over. The dark memory of Ren's interrogation faded from view, only to be replaced with the sight of the two of them sitting on the front porch of his fathers ranch, the Yavin stars shining brighter than they had in decades.

Luke had truly underestimated their bond, sensing Kara's own mind quieting down as she picked up on her partner's relaxation. They were intimately familiar with each other's ticks, even having memorized the changes in each other's heartbeats when they couldn't find the words to express what they were feeling. The Force pulsed through them in ways the master Jedi had only read about, giving them the ability to transfer power, protection, and even - if necessary - life.

That's when it hit him... he couldn't heal Poe's scars. He didn't have the connection necessary, but Kara could.

He gradually brought himself out of the younger man's head, seeing him wince in pain once the connection was severed. Poe blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit area, seeing the almost father-like concern and curiosity in the blue eyes directly in front of him. Luke tried to pretend like he wasn't already feeling Poe's pain subside, even if it was temporary.

"Believe it or not..." The master Jedi started, "I don't have a connection powerful enough to heal the damage that Ren has done to you."

Poe wanted to be frustrated with the man, he really did, but couldn't find the strength to be angry. He sighed heavily, letting himself sink even further into the chair.

"But Kara does."

The pilot, drained from their exploration of his thoughts, simply smiled. "Of course she does."

"I know what I said when I got here, kid... but I haven't seen power like hers in my lifetime." Luke reflected, "And I have never seen a bond as strong as yours."

"I imagine that just puts a bigger target on our backs." Poe murmured, gazing weakly at Skywalker as his body wrestled with the idea of going back to sleep. Maker, all he wanted to do was rest.

"It could... but we can deal with that tomorrow." Luke helped Poe to his feet, wrapping his almost limp arm around his shoulders, "For now, you should definitely get back to bed."

Kara greeted them at the door to their quarters, looking exhausted herself as she took her barely conscious best friend against her own frame. "Thanks..."

"Don't worry about training in the morning...I'll page you both later in the day." Luke winked, seeing the relief cross Kara's features. "You've both had a long night."

She smiled once more at the older Skywalker as her door slid shut and she eased Poe's body into their bunk. He didn't even stir, his system succumbing to the exhaustion of their eventful night and general lack of recovery time as she tugged off his boots and slipped his blaster off his hip. He'd most likely wake suddenly, in the middle of the afternoon, after his mind realized that he was probably late for something.

Kara pulled a light blanket over them as she settled down beside him , listening to her pilot's calm heart knock softly in his chest. She had felt Luke probe him to try and ease some of his pain. It had worked temporarily... and she had only ever heard Luke talk about how he may be able to help repair some of the damage Ren had inflicted as Poe battled to keep him out.

She let herself focus on Poe's steady breaths, counting them as she allowed herself to finally unwind. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she played back the day. It was hard to imagine that she had started her evening with navigation repairs and dancing with Jess and Kare to a song they hadn't heard since they were kids to being face to face with the very past that she'd run away from. The war was cruel before this point... but she wasn't sure how many more times her emotions could be tossed around like they were nothing.

"What a throwback!" Jess cheered as she passed by the X-wing Kara had been working on. The stereo was blaring a sugary pop track with a few dance moves they used to bust out when they were just pre-teens. "Kara, you remember this right?"

Jess twirled around at the bottom of the ship's ladder when Kara popped down for a new targeting chip. She smiled hard as her squad mate seemed to effortlessly remember the moves, tugging the sleeve of her shirt in hopes she'd join in. "Come on! You know it!"

Kara set down her tools and joined Jess for a brief second, stepping left and right before spinning in a circle. She could hear Poe and Snap laughing from the next ship bay over, obviously recognizing the song but enjoying the sight of their two more serious female friends letting loose for once.

Poe jogged over to them, bumping Kara's arm as they repeated the movements, trying to follow along with their pace. He had that infectiously dopey smile on his face, the one that made it hard to feel anything but sheer joy in its presence. "Like this right?"

He mirrored their movements, laughing along as Kara caught him singing the words to himself in order to keep up. She couldn't remember the last time they'd all had a second to just be kids again... even if it was in the middle of a warzone.

Kara's heart ached as she yearned for another moment like that. A night surrounded by the people that meant the most to her, finding the joy in what they had, and reminiscing about a simpler time. They were all barely out of their 20s, a time in their lives where they should have all been exploring the galaxy...finding themselves...or starting families. Instead, they were all engaged in the same seemingly endless fight. The one that she supposedly had the power to finally end.

She felt Poe's arm slip over her torso, briefly snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts.

"There you are..." He mumbled, his nose pressingly lightly into her hair as he turned to gather her closer to his frame. "My beautiful Stargirl..."

Kara giggled, feeling his drowsy lips grazing her neck. "Hello my sleepy Flyboy."

She would never say it out loud, but Poe, all half asleep, dopey, and affectionate was one of her favorite variations of his personality. It complimented his intensity in a way that made him almost too human at times, exposing the compassionate, empathic, and romantic soul underneath the battle-born leader he chose to show everyone else.

"Ya know..." He lulled, "You are the only one allowed to call me that."

She snorted, letting her hands run down the muscles in his back. "Oh, I know...though I think Sparkplug should have caught on."

His laugh rumbled in his chest, a sound as comforting to Kara as the man's heartbeat, "No...it's much better that it didn't."

"Too embarrassing?" She teased, catching the playful spark returning to his gaze. "What would your mother say?"

"I'm certain she'd agree." Poe said, "And then she'd make a compelling argument for why everyone should be allowed to call me 'Flyboy' - which is not happening."

Kara smirked, "They already do it behind your back..."

"And it should stay that way." He quipped playfully, tickling her a bit to bring her close enough to steal a kiss. "That's an order."

She hummed as their lips met, "An order? When exactly did someone make you a general?"

"Alright, alright..." Poe surrendered, "A highly favorable suggestion then."

Kara cocked an eyebrow at him just as she shifted to settle against his chest again, "You know what else is a highly favorable suggestion?."

Poe played coy.

"Sleep."

The pilot kissed her forehead as she closed her eyes with a smile. Their room fell silent again as they allowed themselves to doze off, the sound of a light jungle rain tapping on their window.

"I love you." Poe whispered, feeling the surge of contentment in her aura.

"I love you too."

[tittyblade]

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

[myrulia]

About the Kokushibou x Muzan little sister ask can I get prompt 8 please 😅 sorry for the inconvenience.

.｡.:*✧Prompt 8: "It feels right, promise I don't mind."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Slight sexual tension

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: If an appearance/personality is made evident, then it is because you are related to Muzan.

`` [Y/N], my beloved sister, have you considered ever finding a suitable partner such as I did? ``

Your elder brother, Lord Kibutsuji Muzan, spoke as you both were seated in one of the many rooms of the Infinity Castle that was well away from everyone else since your discussion held private matters. 

`` Brother, you made your past wives go insane, and the one you have now is a fake. So therefore, it does not count. ``

Muzan let out a huff of annoyance at the same time you did, the habit being something you both inherited unfortunately which led to the Upper Moon Two to tease you about, which led to him becoming disciplined right after.

`` That is not the point. [Y/N], I do not want you to be alone- ``

`` But I'm not alone, I have you and the other Upper Moons..- ``

`` Ah yes, the Upper Moons you say? ``

There was a glint of mischievousness in Muzan's eyes that you became all too accustomed with, knowing he was coming up with a great plan that you know utterly nothing about. Truth be told, finding a partner would not seem like the worst thing, but your stubbornness has stopped you from giving into your older brother's wishes.

`` Since you brought up the Upper Moons, I'll start from there. ``

You quirked a brow up in response to his choice of words, crossing your arms habitually and holding the same accursed scowl Muzan would also make during his meetings.

`` Why don't you get to know them, `` he started, referring to the higher ranks. `` The Upper Three ranks would make suitable partners and would have no trouble protecting you when I am absent. ``

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to see a somewhat decent future with any of them. Sure, the idea had its pros, but far too many cons, especially with Douma. He was tall and handsome, sure, but had little to no emotions whatsoever and was too much of a masochist for you to handle.

Then there is Akaza. He was respectful to women and you actually found that trait attractive, but he was too focused on becoming strong and probably would not even give you the attention you would need.

Lastly, Kokushibou. An even taller demon who was quiet, well reserved, and surprisingly good looking despite having three sets of eyes. For once, you did not know the male's motives due to his nature, which allured you to him further. You have tried to strike up a conversation but he was quick to end it and would disappear somewhere else in the Castle.

`` Muzan, I would never consider Douma suitable, Akaza is a 50/50 chance, but Kokushibou- well..- ``

`` Well? ``

You wanted to voice out your opinion of the Upper Moon One to your brother, but knowing him, he would rat you out instantly just so that your relationship with him would get a move on so he can be satisfied.

`` Actually, nevermind, I'll take some time to think about it brother. ``

You got up from your chair and exited from the large room, jumping from the balcony and onto another platform. You repeated this process until you were well away from Muzan's quarters.

You were not even set on a destination, you just wanted to clear your head of his desire to find you a future husband. The idea was not a bad one, in fact it was a smart move in the first place, but it felt forced and not genuine to have to pick based off your brother telling you to.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you did not notice the large figure just in front of you, and before you knew it, you bumped right into the figure's back, causing it to fall over with you on top. 

`` Who- ``

`` I apologize! `` You blurted out before the voice could finish. `` I was not looking where I was going and ended up tumbling onto you so I'm sorry. ``

You quickly got off of the large figure who also stood up and adjusted his hakama accordingly that got slightly messed up in the fall. Once the figure is turned around, you are met with 3 pairs of eyes glaring down at your shorter form. It was none other than Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Rank One based on the kanji in his eyes. You look stunned as you take in his appearance. You expected a much more piercing gaze due to him usually having one, but instead of that, his face was more relaxed and dare I say neutral.

`` There is no need princess, `` the male said as he bowed in respect, not daring to leave unless you order for him to do so. The demons that lurked around the Castle were ordered by your high and mighty older brother to refer to you as "Princess" since he deems himself as the king. You objected of course, but in this moment you had no ounce of rejection to give. Usually you would dismiss the demons that call you such a thing, but it felt different with Kokushibou.

`` Still I bumped into yo- nevermind. Kokushibou I can trust you right? ``

Your question came out of the blue for the demon. Why were you suddenly asking if you can trust a man like him? Of course he did devote his life to both you and Muzan but his inner feelings and self doubt block himself from doing so fully. You always made things difficult for him.

`` Yes, you can entrust me with your life. ``

`` Are you only saying that because my brother told you to, or are you genuine? ``

The demon was rather taken aback by your bold choice of words, his eyes slightly enlarging before going back to a neutral expression. He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, confusion taking over his features.

`` Why would I not want to protect someone dear to me? ``

You took a singular step back, desperately fighting the heat rushing to your cheeks and so to not embarrass yourself in front of him you covered the bottom half of your face and feigning a look of pondering. 

`` If you are genuine as you claim to be, then I shall tell you. Muzan wants me to find a suitable partner. ``

You were blunt yet again, believing that sugarcoating information only draws away time that could be spent doing something much more worthwhile. You removed your hand from your face, now holding a stern look with the much taller Upper Moon whose expression has shifted. A visible vein was pulsing on his neck that you learned was due to annoyance.

`` Have you found anyone? `` Kokushibou said with no clear indication of aggravation, but you knew of the male's habits from the years that you have you have to learn of the Upper ranks and their habits. You stepped closer towards him until your chest dangerously brushed against his, your hand reaching up to his hand and grabbing it gently. Kokushibou tensed up at the feeling of your soft hand being interlocked with his, so much so that he could not take his eyes off of your enticing ones. 

`` Yes. You. ``

You stood on your tippy toes just to move closer to his face. His height may have been an obstacle but you succeeded, leaving the demon to be well enough flustered for it to be noticeable. Your little manipulative tactics resembled those of Muzan's, you are siblings after all. You tugged your hand away from his, sliding it up his forearm ever so slowly and to his chest, resting there and not daring to break the eye contact you have built.

`` Even though I am directly blood related to Muzan, would you be willing to be my partner and love me for who I am instead of who I am related to? ``

Kokushibou was well aware of what you meant with those words, after all he himself is very intelligent and could see through your advances. But even so, he found himself falling for them time and time again. You could simply be doing your hair and his mind would wander to how your raven locks would feel in between his fingers. With you being his Lord's younger sister, he thought it would be practically sinning to think of you in such ways, but now that the opportunity presented itself, he would not let it slip from his grasp.

`` It feels right, promise I don't mind. ``

`` That's all I needed to hear from you Kokushibou. `` 

It took one small lean forward for your lips to land on his. Kokushibou instinctively returned the kiss as if he was programed to do so, except it was his full will driving him forward to finally have you as his own. To be able to have you by his side was almost a dream come true for him without even realizing it. Demons are essentially deprived of any real feeling so to have you return his feelings of infatuation fed into his desire all the same.

Although before the kiss could turn into a much more scandalous one, you retracted, but cupped his face in your hands.

`` Would He approve of this? `` Kokushibou asked whilst peering into your enchanting eyes again. His hands had moved to your waist but were quickly removed after the kiss, his own fears blocking him from allowing himself to submit to your enticing touch.

`` I don't need his approval, I am my own person who can make her own decisions. But, it was his idea so there is no need to worry. ``

`` That is all I needed to hear. ``

Kokushibou was the one who leaned forward this time, but before your lips could connect, he went to your neck and bit on your skin harshly which was bound to leave a mark. You gripped at his hair and tugged him away from your neck after you let out a small whine since your greed was increasing.

`` I am simply marking what is mine now, isn't that right, Princess? ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[wirecree]

ღ 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐃𝐘𝐑𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 ღ┋ʙᴏʏғʀɪᴇɴᴅ sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs

𝐀 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐘/𝐧!

┉

𝐀𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐑𝐑𝐁 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐘/𝐧'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐘/𝐧'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 - 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞.

┉

✧ 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

₀₁. 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

↝ ʙʀɪᴄᴋ ↜

Is there even a point on why I'm still trying? You wonder to yourself as you look on your school's app to see the students' rankings. And lo and behold, there you see the same name that's been in ranking #1 ever since freshmen year — Blossom Utonium.

And there you are, ranking #2.

You would never admit this to anybody who asks, but honestly? You... You kind of dislike the Powerpuff Girls in some ways. Or maybe it's more accurate to say you're jealous of them. Even more accurately, you're jealous of Blossom.

Maybe it's because this is high school, and you already have too many inner insecurities. But it really does do something to you when you have three superhero girls to compare yourself to every day.

Bubbles: the kind and popular.

Buttercup: the athletic championship tomboy.

Then there's Blossom — the smartest and most widely viewed to be the most perfect a person can be.

You honestly used to admire her when you were younger, from kindergarten to the beginning years of middle school. Though honestly, who didn't admire the Powerpuff Girls? Kids and adults alike loved them back then and still do now. But it was different for you when you were younger. As a kid, you didn't have the expectations you had now from your parents to be the absolute best you can be. They didn't need you to be perfect as a kid, to be the perfect girl who got straight As because grades weren't something you had to worry about. You didn't have to worry about failing, what colleges would think looking at your transcripts, that what you accomplish the next day could apparently determine a good portion of your future.

Once that was something that became important, you found yourself in a one-sided rivalry.

At first, it was amazing that you were simply in the top 3 of those who got the best grades. But slowly, with each test and newly updated student rankings, you grew annoyed and disheartened at the fact that you would never beat Blossom. You were apparently nowhere near her level, like how even the most skilled boys could never beat Buttercup.

They were just in an entirely different field that no normal person could ever reach. And that sucks, as someone who is trying so hard to be the best.

You let out a self-deprecating sigh, shutting off your phone and stuffing it in your bag as the school bell rung, signaling school was finally over for the day. You walked out of your AP Psychology class, ready to leave and go to the public library to study. Not that you would be distracted at home, your parents are barely around, and you're just a single child. But honestly, it's because of how lonely and quiet it is at your house that you prefer the library. You appreciate the silent presences of the other patrons as you simply read and review notes.

"(Y/n), hold up – You wanna come to go karaoke? There'll be some cute guys~" You're interrupted by your childhood friend, Jay. She stops you just before the door exits with a cheerful bounce to her steps.

Jay was a decently short girl, 5'3 in all her glory. She had naturally long ombre wavy curls that are usually a frizzed-up nest if she doesn't bother taking care of it. She also had light freckles underneath her eyes and nose, the picture of a totally normal yet charming girl. She usually is the only person who can get you to lay off working. She makes you take breaks and have fun, to try to enjoy the couples of years you have left as teenagers.

And she tries to always set you up with someone too, finding it a crime that you haven't at least kissed a boy.

"Sorry, no singing or cute guys today. There's a test coming up for one of my AP classes, and I want to get all the studying I can get done." You apologize, rejecting the offer which made her pout.

"What? C'mon! You can't take one afternoon off before holing yourself up?"

"Nope, not at all," you answer quickly and efficiently. Which only made Jay let out a loud, long-suffering sigh at what she probably deemed was you being too boring. The dramatic sound of it made you smile lightly. A small huff of a laugh escapes past your lips.

Before she could open her mouth and start giving you the usual lecture on living loose — there they came — the unmatchable trio.

The Powerpuff Girls.

You watch students step aside for the girls to walk clearly: girls waving hi at them, boys staring, and some making flirtatious gestures. You can hear how they all coo over them and how Blossom gets the most stares. Even Jay is smiling widely at them, showing off hints of her inner fangirl. You may be the only one, if not out of a few, that glances away from them dismissively.

"Man, what I would give to be just like them..." Jay sighs dreamily as the Powerpuffs walk by the two of you, heading through the door and officially leaving the school building. The moment they were gone, Jay was forced out of her daze, suddenly energetic once more. As if she wasn't put under a spell just a second ago from their presence alone.

"I mean, seriously! They're beautiful, strong, dependable! Not to mention fucking superheroes as well!"

You barely were able to contain the groan that nearly emitted from your throat.

"Haha, yeah... They are something else, huh?" you laugh forcefully. And you weren't sure if Jay perhaps noticed your shift in tone, but she immediately began to praise you.

"Yeah, but you're a total package too, you know? Pretty and smart – you're the only one who can actually compete with them academically!" Actually, that's not exactly true– "You're a baddie, girl. If only you weren't so blind and opened up your eyes a bit more, you would see you have quite a following of admirers."

"Only because they consider me second-best to Blossom, knowing full well that they would never get with her." You couldn't help but huff. Unable to hide your annoyance this time as memories began to run through your mind.

Every time a boy ever confessed to you, he always couldn't help but bring up how, wow, you and Blossom were pretty alike, huh? If only you had powers like her — if only you scored number 1 instead of her.

Then you would be the better one, right?

It didn't help that each of them was known to have huge crushes on her too.

Before Jay could speak up, likely to try and debunk that statement of yours, you began turning your back on her, waving bye.

"Anyways, I'll text you later, okay? You have fun singing and being around those apparently cute guys." And with that, you scurried away before she even had a chance to begin opening her mouth.

With a sigh of relief, honestly just ready to have some decently quiet alone time, you start heading to the city bus stop, waiting to start traveling to New Townsville library.

{ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs . . . }

When you finally arrived at the library, you weren't sure if the interaction with Jay made you tired or if it was all of your thinking and constant self-doubting. Perhaps it was the latter, but regardless, when you found yourself a seat with a psychology textbook in hand, you slowly began nodding off. Your head was continuously bopping up and down, eyes blinking wearily every time you gained awareness back. But eventually, drowsiness got you, and you fell asleep inside the air-conditioned building.

Perhaps you slept for 30 minutes or an hour — you wouldn't know. All you did know was that you woke up to your chin banging roughly against the library table, making you wake up with a wince and throbbing pain.

"If you're going to sleep, do it somewhere else. Some of us actually want to sit here and read without some girl snoring."

For some reason, the voice of someone speaking to you actually woke you up more than the action of your chin being banged. You look up quickly, meeting eye-to-eye with a boy around your age with deep crimson eyes. You stare for a moment, marveled by the color, before you realize what he said and that he was holding your textbook that was underneath your head previously.

At least you know who to blame for that.

"I– Look, sorry. I didn't mean to bother anyone. But that doesn't exactly give you the right to take my book." You first apologized and then gestured to your book. The guy flat-out ignores you, apparently taking an interest in your textbook, as you decide to observe his appearance more.

You take note of his hair which was red and long, tied into a ponytail that settled comfortably against his back. You then look at the red cap on his head that's positioned backward, going along with his red hoodie, paired with a simple set of jeans. Despite the clothing, which was simple, he certainly had a defined face and a strong physique hidden underneath that hoodie. You stare at his strong jaw and how his hair frames his face — unable to deny he was handsome for your age and also looked somehow... familiar? But you were brought back to reality, no longer distracted by his good-looking features, when you hear that scoff that comes from him.

"I'm surprised someone like you has a high-level book like this, considering how you were drooling all over it." he voices out with a mocking tone attached. He raises a brow at you, which should simply be seen as a questioning gesture, but instead, you felt like he was like looking down at you. Like you were a waste of breath, not even deserving enough to be dirt upon the earth. Why the hell is he looking at you like that?

"Do you actually even understand a quarter of what's written in here?"

You stare at him, trying to comprehend and process how he was insulting you despite you two just meeting. And the more you process, the more you progressively feel annoyed at how blatantly he was disregarding any intelligence you may have. Deeming you a fool, an idiot.

"Of course I understand it! I understand way more than just a quarter!" you hiss at him, standing up to try and grab your book back, to which he only yanked back from you, exhibiting how much taller he was compared to you as well.

He only looks at you with another expression of his. A cold one that exhibits no warmth or even a drop of respect as he decides to hold your book up higher in the air.

"Doubt it. If what I saw now was any indication, you probably just sleep in all your classes. What? You decided to grab this so you can pretend to feel smart or something?" He degrades you as you feel yourself glaring harshly at him.

"If all it takes is just one glance for you to judge me — then you must be too simpleminded to even try and be able to overcome your own psychology, huh? But if we're judging just by first interactions alone, then who are you to talk? Is being rude to some stranger empowering to you or something? You like insulting people like some grade-schooler who can't articulate his emotions at all, so he resorts to being a douche?" You retort back, seeing his eyes flash a dangerously bright red at the mentions of you implying him to be an idiot and some immature kid.

It was only when you saw his eyes flash like that that you knew why he seemed familiar to you —

He's Brick. Leader of the Rowdyruff Boys who've been missing for years.

You watch as he moves around the table to take a step closer to you, making you back away. But you both freeze when the librarian comes up to you two, scolding you for your disruptive behavior for the other patrons here. As she scolds the both of you, she eventually manages to make Brick return your textbook after you finally were able to wedge a word in to try and explain the situation.

You decided that at this point, studying at home will be better. Not only can you make a cup of coffee to keep you awake, but you can also get away from him. Not exactly feeling safe around him, nor feeling confident that you can keep your cool around him either. So you grab your stuff explaining that you'll leave, not about to fight for who should stay here or not.

As you head towards the exit, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder one more time at him. You're greeted by a parting image of him grabbing a book and sitting where you were. Seemingly able to get invested in a book that was also of an AP course of some kind.

Again — just why is he here?

And when will the Powerpuff Girls find out?

[as-i-watch]

You better get ready bc its time for

The Straw Hats' Tragic Backstories

Ranked from what i personally consider to be less tragic to most tragic. With pictures!

I accounted not only how scaring their backstories are but also how long they suffered for, balancing the bad and the good times. Be ready

N°9 (Less Tragic): Usopp

Less Tragic is still Tragic. He lost his mom, never knew his father and never felt he fitted in at his hometown where he gain the reputation of problem child. That said, he still had a pretty 'normal' childhood and was a happy and emotionally stable kid, somehow.

N°8: Zoro

Now with Zoro there's the issue there's a lot we (or at least I) dont know. The times he spend at the dojo gave him somewhat of a home but before that he appeared to be a homless orphan maybe? Also then there is Kuina's death which defined so much about him through pain. Beyond that, he grew up in a safe space with people that cared about him.

N°7: Luffy

He never had a parental figure to look up to and he was raised in a way by many people. He's sense of familly lied with Sabo and Ace bc nobody else stayed around long enough (except for Dadan). Similar to Zoro, the 'death' of Sabo defined a lot about him through pain. He ranks above Zoro because he lived to survive and his and his brothers lives were often put in mortal danger.

N°6: Brook

The fact that he had a whole happy life didnt allowed me to rank him very high but at the same time, wandering arround for decades alone, traped in the darknes, souraded only by the dead bodies of his nakama. I couldn't put him last either. Not to mention the lost of his body.

N°5: Franky

Now it's getting real. Franky did have a happy childhood with his found family doing what he loved that is building ships. But, the boats he created were used against him to bring down and arrest his father figure/mentor. In desperation he traid to fight a train to stop it and lost his body in the process. He never saw Tom again.

N°4: Sanji

There are two sides to this. One, so far all we (or at leats I) know of Sanji is from when he was already an apprentice at a kitchen, what's the story before that? Idk but i bet is not happy. Then ofc is the issue that he almost starved to death at the ripe age of 8 and had to carry on with the guilt of costing this pirate-chef his leg and career, who eventually became his mentor/father figure. No wonder he is so closed off emotionally. Thanksfully, after that he seemed to have gronw up without other insidents and he loved it in the Baratie

How are you doing? Sad yet?

Well buckle the fuck in bc we are entering the top three and oh boy

N°3: Chopper

Rejected by everyone since he was born and it only got worse after the ate the devil fruit. He was attacked by his own and also by humans. The only one that showed him love and kindness was Hiluluk, his father figure/mentor, who he ended up killing while trying to find a medicing to save him. All things considered he had some happy times in the middle.

N°2: Nami

She was a happy kid until Arlong came along, murdered her mom infront of her eyes and took her away. Not only she was forced to work and live with Arlong, but she also had the lives of everyone on her village on her shoulders, and she made it so at the age of 8! She lived the next decade terrorized by Arlong, alone, thinking everyone hated her and carrying that weight on her own. Her final snap when she stabs herself on her tattoo cannot be more heartbraking

N°1 (Most Tragic): Robin

There's just, so much to unpack. She lived alone, her mother left her and her adoptive family rejected her. The only solance she found was studying but then the Marine came along. They killed everyone she loved in front of her eyes, they burned her entire island and made her the sole survivor. After that they persecuted her all her life, she was betrayed and sell out more times than she can count probably. She was forced to live in the run, never trusting anyone and never belonging anywhere, which was all she ever wanted.

- Thanksfully they all found happiness later in life having wonderful adventures with the Straw Hats, one big fam -

I hope you liked my post (ಥ‿ಥ)b