#unseeking

[mivones]

so, note all ye lovers in love with the sound - your world be shattered with nary a note of one cupid’s arrow under your coat

[apathy-filled]

human

why are we craving human attention?

why are we so desperate for love?

why are we not happy alone?

everybody craves the interaction.

i don’t really know why though?

my mind never understood it.

no people no problems, right?

tho one’s heart always wants different.

the universe where we suffer alone in happiness is unimaginable and nonexistent but still so beautiful.

i won’t try to seek the unseekable, even though i’m desperate.

[saunteredserpent]

Self-discovery.

"The Road to Self Discovery - My Greatest Journey" - Chandrasekar Singaram | "Sacred Journey" - Michael Reeder | "A Child's Peace" - Gabrielle Charisse | "The Trinity Within" - Unseeking Seeker | "Reflection" - Suzanne Delaney | "Who is this me--" - Chimezie Ihekuna | "Valued Grace" - Wilma Neels

[malaisequotes]

“I am fiction I am dream. Inspired from the triumph of heroes and villains. Hear me: I have seen gods and through which jealousy sparked an aspiration into their glorious steps to become a god and seek only what is unseekable.”

I Am Fiction I Am Dream by Sage Liskey

[mitch0id]

And in the land of star crossed lovers

And barren hearted wanderers

Forever lost in forsaken missives, and Satan's pull

We seek the unseekable, and we speak the unspeakable

Our hopes dead gathering dust to dust

In faith, in compassion and in love

[forselaluna]

and in the land of star crossed lovers

and barren hearted wanderers

forever lost in forsaken missives, and Satan's pull

we seek the unseekable, and we speak the unspeakable

out hopes dead gathering dust to dust

in faith, in compassion and in love.

[blackicek1lls]

Fit the Ninth - THE SEEKER WHO KEEPS

Made for my philosophy course in college. It was a creative writing assignment and I chose the option of putting a new character in The Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll. Probably should read that to understand this.

"I am but a Seeker who seeks," the Seeker cries to her crew, abashed with ragged breath and pale faces round like the moon. "I am a Seeker who seeks, and there is nothing of it."

"If you are a Seeker, then our Snark must be a Hider," the Bellman retorts, his bell rattling like a cow, like a cat who had spent too many smiles sneaking around.

"Right you are, my dear Bellman," the Seeker speaks, and her green veil falls like the crew flying off the boat, and unlike the crying waterfall she stands before. She pulls back, pulls back like she's late to the party, when she had been there, been there when the Baker disappeared when he found the– "If it may be a Hider, then I may be the Seeker. Surely you must know what it must take to be Mr. Seek to seek Mr. Hyde."

The Billiard-maker scoffs, aiming his cues and clacking the balls like glasses of whiskey, fragrant but bitter. A bitter-maker. "Had that book been out yet by now, I would break my billiards and eat them like porridge."

"And what does time have to do with the timing of our tale?" the maker of Bonnets and Hoods declares, "What of this tale does it say we must make time for a book yet to be writ, when it has been writ when it ought to be writ?"

"I dare say," says the Butcher.

"My dear!" cries the Beaver.

"What of this hiding and seeking have to do with our dear comrade?" the Broker berates, who still counts the coins of their goods, goods that did nothing of the sort for the source of their ire.

"Enough, enough!" the Seeker yells, yells enough to drown the waterfall cries. "Enough with your dilly-dallying, your idling and flouncing! We have a Snark to seek, and I am a Seeker who dare seeks the unSeeked!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I have my doubts, my withholdings and concerns. I have my reservations and fears. I have my worries, my lectures, my turns. Yes, I'd rather be nursing a beer."

"Oh nurse your beer like the child you lack, we've nothing of the sort to reserve!" The Seeker merely glares at the Barrister rote, whose dreamy disposition was unperturbed. "We have not the time to waste with our haste, the dawn of the light is drawing closed. And place down your dreams and finicky things, if you want to find our friend still posed."

"Why are you rhyming?" the Butcher asks, the rhythm of the tone being clear. "Well, look at that, how! Look, I'm doing that now! How odd and how queer to read here."

"Look nothing to it, Butcher, look here mine friend. We are here for one and one thing to end." The Seeker grabs the Butcher by the face so violently such that he felt his head from his body nearly rend. "You are to search the isle, the map of which is to be the make that read. You are to search and search for a friend, you see, and you must take his warning to heed. In Hebrew, in Dutch, in German, in Greek, you are to search until the peak! I myself will watch as you search, as I seek the same as you. I will seek and seek until I drop dead, then I'll rise again and make do!"

"Surely you do not mean to say," the Beaver trails off, making his lace, "that we will be searching until sleeps the day!"

"Surely I do!" exclaims the Seeker, her green attire flowing wild. "I'll make you search and I seek while we all find that Snark until we fall six feet under, single file!"

"You're mad!" yells the Barrister.

"You're uncouth!" cries the Banker.

"Say what you will," the Seeker sighs, "I've all heard the same from my youth."

"Stop your yapping and your bossing and your jossing," the Bellman interrupts. "Stop your rambling and gambling and your flossing. Your noises, I've had enough!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first to go, with fear from the Butcher no doubt, was the Beaver making his lace, without a shout. And the Butcher distraught, his crying fraught, that his dear friend's search was for naught. The Seeker, she stares at the friend now alone, and her face is not of pity, though it's not like that had been shone. 

"You heard me once, when I grabbed your face clear, you are to search the isle. Now leave your friend here."

"You've lost all sense, all manner and pity. To think that you were the best Seeker of the city! We've now lost not one, but two of our friends! And now you ask me to leave them all to fend? I cannot endure this notion once more, and I will be at the base of the shore–"

The Seeker turns away and looks back at where the Butcher spoke, but the rest find nothing of the blabbering bloke. The Seeker's veil shimmers like a trick of the light, yet she still presses for, though still begs the night.

"What a waste of the world, those two friends are now gone. Now chop chop, dealio, for we will still search till Dawn."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You've gone mad," the Bellman whispers, his bell with no tongue to blare. "You've gone mad, my dear Seeker. There is nothing to search for in there."

"Nonsense! All lies! I'll have nothing of the sort!" The Seeker is hysterical, alone, and rogue; the Bellman was her only court. "So what if there is only us? So what if there is no one but us? I am a Seeker who seeks the unSeeked, so this action is a must!"

"The Baker is gone, so's the Beaver and Butcher, godbless. There went the Barrister and Billiards-maker, the Banker no less. The maker of Bonnets and Hoods and the Broker have broke. By now, the one set us out to sea and the Jubjubs have gone to soak."

A rustle, a thrustle, a tussle of leaves, and the Seeker perks up whilst her friend's left bereaved.

"You hear that, dear? That rumbling sound? That is a Snark afoot, and I will not leave it bound." The Seeker runs off into the shivering brush; she runs off too fast, too far in a rush. And what she finds at the end leaves her nothing but joy, but in the middle of that clearing, no doubt not a ploy.

"Yes, a Snark!" the Seeker yells, her excitement leap and bounds. "A Snark that I have been seeking for months! A Snark that I've found!"

She grabs the face of what is supposedly a Snark, her grin shining ear to ear. And then she recoils, in shock and in horror, as the truth had been revealed. In her aged veil, her willowing hair, her eyes enshadowed growing wide, the Seeker had sought what was really not a Snark to be hunted and to be tried.

"You're a Boo–" she blurts and the words fall curt, as nothing then stands in her place. The Bellman then looks and then his head shook, as his body turns his pale face. There was nothing to gain and nothing to see, for all that they found did not bring them their glee. That Snark was a Boojum again and again, and Bellman did nothing but flee.

[sister-t0-sleep]

And in the land of star crossed lovers

And barren hearted wanderers

Forever lost in forsaken missives, and Satan's pull

We seek the unseekable, and we speak the unspeakable

Our hopes dead gathering dust to dust

In faith, in compassion and in love

[megid0nt]

I have this idea stuck in my head that I haven't really articulated yet so I'm going to endeavour to here:

It's kinda weird how much of our time now is spent interacting with some corporation's platform. And I don't mean in the "we don't own our copy of Bambi like we used to on VHS, now we are just allowed to view it by Disney on their platform," bc that's oft cited and oft bemoaned (for good reason). No, I mean that the part I find insidious is the intermediary becoming a visible, everpresent individual that is inherently part of the experience.

Like, imagine it's 2003. You wanna watch Pokemon: Jirachi - Wish Maker, which you have a DVD of - cutting edge! You're very cool. It's the only DVD you own. You have a CRT TV, a DVD player, and a DVD. It's 2003 so when the DVD player isn't playing it's got this plain blue screen that it's outputting, and when you turn your TV on your room is awash with Blue, the colour of waiting for you to do something next. You insert your DVD, and bada-bing bada-boom suddenly you're watching previews. There's still this intermediary there, this DVD player, but the only purpose it really seems to serve is to take some data you have on hand, process it, and re-encode it into a format you can work with (analog video on a lil yellow plug for your TV), just like the vcr before it, cassette players, CD players, and damn near every multimedia tool I can think of except, like, Dreamcast and the Satellaview.

But lets say you don't have your data on hand - that's fine, you turn on your TV and you get static, or you get whatever input is coming from your cable box, or whatever input is coming from your antenna. There's not really much of a digital user interface (sometimes your cable box might have a TV Guide built in!) because there doesn't need to be; there just needs to be a box for data processing, a box for presentation, and the user interface is you plug them together with cables. Maybe adjust the tint.

Yesterday I was sick in bed, and I didn't really have a brain in my head, and I just wanted to turn on a noise box. My first instinct is turn on the TV - if nothing else, I'll get static. But now....

Now I turn on a TV, there is a menu. My television has an operating system. It's turned from a box that shows a video signal to a box that shows a video signal, harvests my data, sells my data, runs an application platform, connects to the network, sells more of my data, and demands interaction. Gone are the days of me being able to pipe audio into the RCA audio jacks on my TV and use it as speakers, because my Sleek, Modern, FUTURISTIC! tv mutes RCA audio if there's no video signal.

And they try to brand this future as something bright and beautiful! Look, your television is no more just a Box that you Look At! Now you INTERACT! It's got all your favourite movies built in, if you'll just give your money to Disney, if you give your money to HBO, if they decide it's profitable to have your favourite movies at all, if their whims align. It's no longer about having the correct box to connect to your TV to re-encode the data you'd like; it's about the TV being itself a black box full of other black boxes sending and receiving data both locally and to and from the internet as a whole. It feels as though you are no longer trusted to connect your own boxes, although the more dreadful answer is of course that it's more profitable for the company that made your TV to give you the selection of boxes they can make the most money off of. (And this isn't even getting into the fact that they can just. Put advertisements that I cannot disable on the main home screen of a device I paid $500 for.)

But.... I run a shoutcast web radio station! I am a big fan of just being able to look at a URL and listen to some music, I'm very guilty of musical indecision and love the freedom that an unseekable shuffle gives, and to be quite honest the future is now and I have no problem with resources being available primarily online. And, especially with the ever increasing filesizes of higher and higher resolution and framerate video, yeah! It makes a good amount of sense to not require users to keep all of their own media data, either in hard drives or in disk binders.

But you may not. There is no app for my TV that allows me to connect to an arbitrary shoutcast stream, and even trying to search for internet radio nowadays just shows you iHeartRadio, Pandora, and the other corporate algorithmic recommendation engines that are an insult to the concept of radio. There's no repository of media from which the public can pull. There's no stability to any of it anymore! It's all platforms on top of platforms, with every piece of the pie you might have once been allowed to interface with, tweak, replace, or even just hold in your hand being replaced gradually with nebulous black boxes of software that you're not even able to stop automatically yelling noises at you. Fuck.

I don't have a good resolution to this. I know I can, for now at least, make my TV start up to a given input, so one of these days I'm probably going to set up a media center computer as the base input and do my best to circumvent all but one of those platforms, but that doesn't change the fact that I am in Roku's grasp, that there's no escaping the quagmire that is capitalist-interest-driven software development, that everything just feels that little bit less friendly and like a fun adventure to interact with, or that I fear might never feel in control of my own electronic devices (even one as simple as "Show the video signal from this cable") ever again.

[dissolveyourfilter]

“Being the product of memory, reaction is repeating the past rather than meeting the present moment- Only you have the power to wake up from this fixed notion”

[white-poppie]

S♡ul-mate

Characters: Dabi x Gn! reader   Genre: angst, Soulmate-au Writer: @ white-poppie  

A/N: Reader is a civilian, more specifically a medical student with a Claw-quirk. They have retractable claws like lion.

Part 2:  𝐖𝐞 could’ve had it 🅰🅻🅻

My Hero Academia (僕のヒーローアカデミア)

In world where everyone was born with a soulmate assigned to them since their birth, people who very anomalies were considered pathetic.

If you didn't have a soulmate a) they died b) they aren’t born yet and c) maybe you are just unlucky.

By your age, most people had already met their soulmates in real life. 

Soulmates could connect with each other, between the ages of 7 to 8. You go to sleep one night and then BAM! you meet your soulmate in this parallel plane of dimension. People describe it being the same colour as the emotion your soulmate feels the most frequently. Yellow denoting happiness, blue-sadness, green-envy, red-anger, purple-pride etc. etc.

It is a different colour through each other’s eyes, seeing the most vulnerable parts of each other. However, your soulmate decided to never show up.

Whenever you tried to connect with your soulmate, all you could see was this never-ending darkness. You felt trapped and you mind forced you to wake up.

Eventually you decided to give up your futile attempts with connecting with your soulmate, thinking that maybe you were not unfortunate; perhaps your soulmate was just...dead; it was better than thinking that he chose not to contact you.

You were scrolling through your phone, trying to get even a wink of sleep if possible.

Years ago you had posted this question on a forum:

“Every time I try contacting my soulmate, all I see is darkness and wake up, can someone please help me?”

@/white-poppie: Idk bro, have you tried exploring the darkness yet? Maybe it is your soulmate’s most felt expression: despair or depression.

Have you tried exploring the darkness yet? What a weird thing to say. Why would one want to explore the darkness? All the poets and scholars said to stray away from it!

Slowly and gradually your eyelids felt heavy and you fell into a slumber.

Darkness...it was suffocating and unending. Your heart pulsating between your ribs, brain was overflowing with questions and anxiousness.

‘Try,’ your mind revolted, ‘at least try once so you won’t regret it later.’

With the loudest voice you could summon, you squeaked, “Hello?”

No answer.

“Hello!?”

“Who...” a voice replied, it was fait, but it was there, begging to be heard.

“Where are you?” you asked, propelling yourself further into the unseeking void.

“Here,” the voice said, it was gravelly and hoarse as a person’s voice is after screaming or crying.

There was a small luminescence in one corner and a shadow sitting in it; looking rather crumbled.

Your rushed towards it, but the closer you tried to get, the further the image went.

“Stop!” you huffed, tired as tears pricked your eyes in frustration. After years of praying you had finally heard their voice and now they were running away.

“Don’t go, please!”

“It’s too bright,” it answered, “why the hell is your subconscious so bright?”

“Huh?” you were taken aback by his sarcastic comment, “its complete darkness for me here, can you approach me, please?”

“Shit, that figures why you didn’t come to me after all these years.” Heavy footsteps echoed loudly, matching the rhythm of your heartbeat.

The light came closer and closer and closer until there was a small spark of physical light. The two of you looked at it as it rose above and spread colour into the realm. like a bath bomb. You closed your eyes at the expulsion and slowly opening them.

To say it was a magical sight would be an understatement. It was regal, it was the mingling of souls. The realm was etched with two colours, marbled together: Onyx and Ivory.

“White,” you whispered under your breath, “what does it mean?”

“Kindness, peace,” the man laughed. You looked at him clearly now; a tall man with the most beautiful cerulean eyes, and black hair that matched him beautifully.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“Find me scary or disgusting yet? Feel free to run away, I won’t judge you,” the man scoffed.

“No,” you answered with adoration in your eyes, “you look so cool.”

Now, Dabi was taken aback by that, its not everyday...hell no one has ever said anything like that to him.

“Name?” he said a little harshly that he intended, but you caught onto that.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “I am Y/N L/N, a medical-student and I have a claw-quirk.” You extended your claws, showing them off and quickly retracting them.

“Impressive,” he whistled, “could’ve been a nice hero or a villain with that, but a doctor is more respectable.”

You laughed at his passive-aggressive comment, “Your turn.”

“You will be scared of me then,” he snickered, sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs while you did the same.

“I won’t,” you answered, “I won’t judge you even if you are a murderer, I am sure those people must have deserved that,” you joked, earning a laugh from him.

“The exception being if you are a predator,” you stated, “you are not a predator right?”

“Nah nah,” he laughed, “but yeah...I am a villain,” he paused looking at you, your expression was unreadable.

“I go by the alias Dabi,” the gears in your mind turned as you remembered that infamous villian all-over the news.

You hummed, “I have heard about you, you have that...Hell-fire quirk right?”

“Yep,” he answered.

“Dabi can’t be your real name,” you stated questioningly.

“It’s Touya,” he answered, “Touya Todoroki.”

“That’s a pretty name,” you said

“Never liked it, brings back some bad memories,” he sighed.

“I had a question,” you continued a little harshly, “Why didn’t you approach me when you could see me?”

“Look at me!” He exclaimed, “you think I can approach anyone being all burnt? Especially you, white soul.”

Tears pricked in your eyes, “you know I thought my soulmate was dead,” you said with your voice cracking that made even Dabi’s burnt heart hurt.

“Your soulmate died when he was 7 Y/N, you just have Dabi now,” he said while gritting his teeth.

“I don’t mind, Dabi,” you hesitantly held his hand in yours, “I don’t mind Dabi at all, he is just a product of this gangrenous society who failed to protect Touya.”

Dabi’s eyes watered as he looked at you, such sincerity and love that he had never experienced as a child.

“I am here now Touya, I am your soulmate and I won’t leave,” you smiled.

“They won’t let us be together Y/N,” he sighed, “I am a villain, I was born with tragedy in my blood; they never let you be infamous and happy.”

“Don’t you think, both of us have yearned long enough already? From nervousness, darkness and freeting. Being too kind and too depressed...we have always been truly alone,” you said feeling the realm fade away, suddenly hyper-aware.

“No! No! Its to early!” Dabi tried grabbing your hand but you two were already being pulled away, “I’ll be there Y/N! Wait for me!”

“I will,” you answered, feeling the emptiness claw your chest.

We are good people, aren’t we? We deserve a soft epilogue after all.

Part 2 is here!! : 𝐖𝐞 could’ve had it 🅰🅻🅻

My Hero Academia (僕のヒーローアカデミア)

Tags:  @rintaroubby @nanaseishiro @idowritingandstuff, @bakaface @denkis111, @jazzylove, @maybeleftoverjourneys, @lordmypantsaresocool, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp, @astrofai, @oikawatoorupdf​, @thegrayladyislookingforyou , @katsukichu

╰┈➤ Book order details (Request Rules) ╰┈➤ Special customers(Taglist)  

[koishua]

a conversation by the ruby river.

characters: jay, gn!faerie!reader.

synopsis: a little insight into what being friends with a river faerie is like when you're a simple, curious boy.

length: 0.725k words.

notes: this is the result of listening to a hozier playlist uhh yeah anyways so i have no idea what the rules for writing faeries are, but this is... yeah take this as is idek what i did here haha hopefully you enjoy this brief look into jay and fae reader's cute friendship. this might not even make sense but bare with me here y'all

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | REBLOG! FEEDBACK!

Faintly, he hears the songs of the Forbidden Forest lulling the deers awake from their blissful slumber. The leaves rustle as the breeze blows through the sparsely spread out trees, affectionately stroking his warm skin as he treads carefully through the soft grass, mindful of the little critters crawling beneath his feet. He sees the pink clouds floating across the pale blue sky, unseeking of a particular destination. 

The early morning mist settles down by the time he excitedly arrives at a shallow creek, pulling out his sheets of paper all tied neatly down to a worn down leather no wider than the palm of his hand and as narrow as the inside of his palm, perfect to carry around in his secret endeavours in the outskirts of the small town where his house stands, facing the edges of the forest he is now located in.

Jay, carved into the leather bound notebook, is his name. 

He fishes out a wooden handle with a thin piece of metal attached to it, also rummaging through his satchel to pull out a container filled with ink in his favourite shade of blue; dark and azure, just like the eyes of the river faerie the pages of his book is filled by. 

Jay flips the pages to find an empty spot to run the tip of his pen over, already knowing just what he wants to portray. As the songbirds accompany him through each stroke that makes up your face, he waits for his muse to appear before him as always. True to habit, he hears the distinct splash from the river as red as rubies he sits before.

You are there, crouched elegantly over the boulder a little to his right, the stream of water divided into two around the large rock as it continues its journey downwards. Waving a hand at him, you chime a happy “Good morning, boy!”

His eyes train over your iridescent wings, just as mesmerized as the first time he’d seen them. “Hello, Faerie. You look quite ecstatic today. Did you finally get those spotted slippers you’ve been wanting?”

Your laugh rings delicately in his ears, a sweet little tune he adores hearing. To his delight, he hears it quite often whenever he is able to meet you on days like these. The air around you glows a faint yellow when you chuckle, meeting his question with an eager response, “No, but I have got even bigger news.”

Jay leans closer to the riverside, setting his page down with his pen. Equally, you step nearer, magically standing over the calmly running water, not at all disrupting its flow. “Look,” you point at a small insignia on your saturated skin, “I’m now old enough to cross the border. I’ll be able to visit you whenever I gather enough energy!”

“That’s great.” He finds himself hopping onto his feet with joy. “I can show you all of those things I have been telling you about then.”

You nod, dark blue eyes sparkling as though the stars in your irises are swimming in the place called space Jay has heard so much about. “Tomorrow, let’s meet by the Tree of Life, alright?”

Jay nods, pleased by the turn of events. “Understood. Then we can get you some of those pastries I brought with me two days ago and I’ll show you where I live.” 

Your brows set in a worried furrow, “Of course, I’ll have to disguise myself with your help too. I can’t be seen walking around with this hair and these wings.”

Jay, in his buzz, had forgotten about those small facts. Indeed, you’d have to hide your wings, which will be a shame, since he adores the way the light shines through the almost transparent structure. “I’ll see if I can find you some fitting clothes or something to blend you right in with us, but for that, I have to get back earlier, because the shops close soon. It’s a Sunday, so no one works much today.”

“That’s perfectly alright. You can go, I don’t mind.”

“Great, I’ll be back after my lessons tomorrow and bring you the things I could find.” He packs up his little station of items back into his satchel, careful not to smudge the ink that is still drying on the sheet. Sadly, he hadn’t gotten around with much progress on his drawing, but that could wait.

For now, he waves you goodbye and sets off to catch an open clothing shop before the sun fully rises right above his head.

permanent taglist (one). @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @speckled-sunshine @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @ilandsghost @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @heefused @squiishymeow @just-uaau @catecita @namjoo-jay @shrutiajit @baekhyunstruly @changmin-wrlds @changminurheart @chewychubchuu @taegicarus @marknaeroni @enhacolor @heelariously @chaebb @nshitae @clarakyunisageek @aeonghaseyo @xiaosimp3 @misah0e @ily-cuz-i @jungwoniics @enha-hwajinna @todorokiskitten @bloom-bloom-pow

[adoras-hair-poof]

We seek the unseekable

And speak the unspeakable

Our hopes dead, gathering dust to dust

In faith, compassion, and in love

[thenightmareofyourdrems]

@mezarco​​ said: 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔫𝔡

                ˜”*°•.    A  cooperation  born  from despair  and  need ; however  effective ,  however functional ,  never  quite stable ;  always  on the  verge  of  collapse ,  always intense .  But  when one  killed  for a  living ,  when one  worked  with murderers ,  decent  alliances were  unexpected ,  unseeked ,  too .  The  thrill of  the  profession lurking  in  distrust ; one  could  laugh , bleed  with  the other ,  and  then … stab  them  in the  back  .  However,  this ?  This little  quarrel  between the  two  ?  This provocation ? Oh  this  was  far  from the  usual  arguments ; this  was  serious . Or  at  least , getting  serious   very very  quick ;  a flame  threatening  to ignite  into  a  deadly  fire .   ❝ Yeah ,  pretty  badly for  you   actually . ❞  Came the  words  intense ; words  echoing  like the  perfect  threat .   ❝ So  what  about   you  cut  the  nonsense ?  ❞  

[mousieta]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Kang Yo Han/ Kim Ga On

Tags: Romance, Pining, First Time, Angst, Smut, Light BDSM Overtones

Summary: With Elijah gone, Ga On and Yo Han are left with no excuses and no buffers, and so they must confront what it is they want and what they mean to one another, and what that means for their future.

The Post-Canon get-together we (and they) deserve.

Also, barring my muse striking again, this is now complete(ish)

[memer-the-miner]

Could you write Sapnap going on a killing spree 💃🤰👯‍♀️🙊

I'm sorry this is so late, i hope you don't mind!! Anyway since you didn't specify anything other than "Sapnap going on a killing spree" I had some fun with it and put it in the Manhunt universe. If you want me to rewrite it don't be afraid to ask! Also i will be putting this on ao3 if you want to read it there!!

Story under 'Keep reading' its pretty long

Sapnap remembers the story like it was yesterday. He had first signed on with the Hunters and he was excited. After all, it was him, him. The kid who grew up in a lonely village, got to go to the capital and work with the king. He’d admit he didn’t make the best impression when he first arrived at the king’s estate. In the waiting room, Sapnap stumbled upon some pretentious archer taking a nap. When the guy woke up he had the audacity to demand why Sapnap was even there. They had shared some choice words before the king entered and settled the situation. Apparently he was going to be working with this “George the Unseekable” asshole. Granted George also complained about having to work with an “ungrateful idiot”, so maybe Sapnap should’ve been happy that the feelings were mutual. Still they were hunting down criminals for the king and getting glory and gold as the reward, what wasn’t to love? At the time Sapnap was missing his closest friend, they used to send each other letters every day, but they got more and more sparse after his friend mentioned his sister, a young playful girl named Drista, got  murdered. He thought that maybe if he became a Hunter he could catch the murderer and help his friend grieve. Imagine Sapnap’s surprise when he discovered that the Hunter’s first mark was his friend. The paper handed to him by the king had a sketch of his friend with ‘Dream: wanted alive’ written in a stylish font under it. George began their journey with vigor and spent days following Dream’s trail and making plans. Sapnap on the other hand was nervous to say the truth. He had felt conflicted about the whole situation and it hadn’t helped that he and George fought on every occasion. So one night he found himself in an open field by himself, George was supposedly still sleeping at their camp, and Dream was spotted in a nearby town. As he laid there looking at the stars, a familiar presence inserted itself beside him. Looking over, to tell George ‘fuck off’, Sapnap gawked when he saw a slightly disheveled Dream instead of a pissed off Hunter. Dream had changed a lot since he last saw him and at the time Sapnap couldn’t help but worry. His friend’s blonde hair was matted, dirt coated his arms and legs, the clothes he wore were haphazardly stitched together, still a fiery light shone in his eyes as he stared at the sky. Instead of ruining the moment, Sapnap had silently turned back to the stars. The two laid there, emotions swirled through Sapnap’s mind. He thought Dream would be mad at him or maybe try to convince him to go on the run, but no. They just rested quietly, they didn’t really say anything to each other, they didn’t need to. Sapnap had glanced back at Dream, who yet to break his gaze from the sky, and saw on his ax Nightmare written in cursive along the edge of the blade. Still he kept quiet, it wasn’t his place to judge how Dream mourned. As the stars began to fade and the moon started to kiss the edge of the horizon, Dream turned to face him and smiled, the wide genuine one from when they were kids, before he moved away. “Catch me if you can, Pandas!” He said sprinting away as Sapnap called out to him. 

That's when it all started, when it became a game. Dream had never stopped his interactions with the Hunters even as they got more and more people to hunt him down. He chatted with each of them during each fight, joked with them when he snuck up on their camp. There had been this silent truce in the air, that all the chasing was just for show. Dream got to know each of the Hunters personally and they got to know eachother better too. Then the king sent his new order. ‘Dream: wanted dead.’ The words had made Sapnap’s blood run cold and he spent most of the night crying into Bad’s shoulder. Sure they felt upset too, but they didn’t really get it. They hadn’t truly known Dream, not like how Sapnap had. His emotions clouded his brain in a thick fog, otherwise he would’ve noticed Dream heading back to the capital. The group only noticed when they reached the gates, still they followed their orders and hunted him through the city, regardless of any damage caused. They had cornered him in an alley with no way out. Sapnap wouldn’t forget the fear in his friend’s eyes. He tried to stop the other Hunters, saying that they should just let him go, but they shoved him out of the way, weapons drawn. The Hunters had brought Dream to the king asking if his majesty wanted to execute the criminal himself. Sapnap was silent as the king nodded. Every day leading up to the execution, Sapnap snuck down to the dungeons to see his friend. Every time he tried to break him out and every time Dream refused to be let go. So just like the night in the field, they sat there quietly back to back with bars in between them. On the night before his execution, Dream slipped a small trinket between the bars, a pitch black scale, a dragon scale just like the one from the books. “Don’t forget about me, Panda, and stay safe,” he whispered, sticking his hand through the bars. Sapnap broke down into tears as he grabbed his hand, holding it tight, knowing he would never see his friend again after this night. Dream moved his other hand to cradle Sapnap’s face, brushing away tears and strands of raven-black hair. He gave a small genuine smile whispering beneath Sapnap’s heavy sobs, “I love you, brother.”

 Now in the present Sapnap stood alone in the capital square, every citizen and guard sleeping peacefully in the dead of night. He was in a simple attire with a heavy cloak to fight against the cold air. In the middle, an erect wooden structure stood, it would have almost looked like an elongated goal if it wasn't for the taut rope that hung down from it. The corpse on it swayed silently as the wind wove in between it and Sapnap. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself causing his hand to brush up against the dragon scale sewed securely against his ragged shirt. The memory of his friend sat against his heart just as the scale did, it was a heavy memory. Sapnap tried to look up again, but his head snapped down just as quickly. No, his last memory of Dream is going to be of when he was alive smiling and laughing, it wasn’t going to be of the thing with a coil that snaked from its neck.

Sapnap made his way back to the castle, silently nodding at the guards he passed. He must’ve looked like shit, red eyes, stained cheeks, a cold gaze. Sapnap moved without thinking, letting his mind wander to the black scale that burned against his heart. When he stepped inside the Hunters’ quarters, light snoring greeted him. With his puffy eyes, he looked around the room, each hunter was fast asleep. Sapnap felt a bile rise in his throat, each of the Hunters looked peaceful in their beds, none of them even looked like they shed a tear. A choked sound left Sapnap before he clasped his hands over his mouth. He stood as still as a statue and just like a statue he started to break. How could they not care? Wasn’t Dream their friend too? How could they even do this to Dream, to him? As he stood there hands over his mouth, more tears sprung from his eyes; however, he unlike before these were not tears of sadness. As the salty water traced the edge of his hands it burned like lava with a deep seeded hatred. Sapnap made up his mind.

Slowly, he moved his hands from his mouth to his sheath. He drew his sword and moved quietly to the first bed. In it George laid peacefully, his goggles haphazardly on the edge of the bed. Sapnap didn’t know how long he stood there but at some point George’s eyes started to flutter open. The hunter yawned as he sat up rubbing his eyes, Sapnap tried not to say a thing worried his voice would betray his plan. “Hey, Sap,” George greeted with a sigh. Don’t call me that, how dare you act as if everything is fine, you bastard. “Finally back from admiring our handiwork?” The statue crumbled to dust.

George could barely scream as Sapnap’s sword lodged itself in his throat. He garbled and vomited blood, sporadically trying to grab the blade. His hands coated the rest of Sapnap’s blade in blood, the white linen sheets blooming red beneath him as blood trickled down his chest and legs. Sapnap watched as George’s eyes went from a panic frenzy to dulling as he simply became a dead weight. Sapnap yanked his sword from George’s neck causing the man to fly forward and crash into the floor, the blood that had been corked before now dyed his boots. The crash of the corpse woke the others as they shot up from their beds, but it was too late. Sapnap clenched his jaw and drove his sword into the next hunter, Bad crying out in pain as Sapnap twisted the blade in his chest. Changing his grip Sapnap pushed his blade upward cutting through Bad’s body up to his neck. The caretaker gave a heart wrenched cry that was cut off as blood pooled in his lungs. The body fell to the ground, its blackish blood mixed with George’s as its two halves separated, the insides spewing on the ground. Pulling his sword from its temporary hilt, Sapnap thrusted forward almost hitting Ant as the wizard shifted into a cat. The cat tried to skitter past, but Sapnap was quicker. He grabbed Ant’s tail and threw the cat on the ground in front of him. With a sickening crack the cat became human as Ant writhed in pain on the floor, tears pricked in the wizard’s eyes. In a swift movement Sapnap brought his boot down on Ant’s neck, the satisfying crack as the twitches of pain ceased to emit from the body beneath him. Sanap snapped his gaze to the end of the room. Sam had unsheathed his ax and was watching him in horror. The engineer backed up against the wall as Sapnap strided over. “Why?” was all he got out before Sapnap decapitated him with a swift motion. His heart pounded in his head, his blood rushing in his ears, his sight was hazy as he leaned against the wall gasping for breath. With his jaw unclenched, Sapnap wailed, letting himself fall to his knees beside Sam’s body, the head rolling away and bumping into the edge of the bed. In the quiet room, his clothes soaked in blood, Sapnap cried. The black scale burned against his chest greater than before, a young feminine voice echoed through his brain ‘Your job isn't over, Dreamwalker, time to finish what was started.’ His ears somehow picked up the sound of dozens of feet moving in his direction. Steeling himself, Sapnap straightened his back and grabbed his sword. The blood moved along the blade quickly as if someone was writing on it with an invisible quill. When the light stilled, Sapnap saw etched into the edge ‘Nightmare’ the same word he had spotted on Dream’s own ax long before. The scale burned again, this time the voice sounded like his friend, his only true friend. ‘I believe in you, Panda’

Guards poured into the room like a single biological mass as Sapnap mowed through them all. Their screams were a symphony of pain and agony. Ashe burst into the hallway, he coated the walls red, his hands and face becoming sticky and pinkish. Every guard that tried to fight him met a painful death, his sword seeming to burn with every cut. His feet led him forward, his mind covered in the rage filled haze. Every maid, butler, knight, noble became a carpet of thinly padded bones for him to walk on. Then he stood in front of the throne room. Was he really going to do this? At his hesitation a voice wormed itself into his brain ‘His Majesty was the one who ordered Dream’s death, why should he get to live?’ The voice was young again, she sounded mad, her anger became his. Rage filled Sapnap’s system threatening to burst from his veins akin to magma boiling beneath a rocky surface. He threw the doors open and saw the king standing, agape, at his throne trying to shield his wife and two sons behind him. There was a beat before chaos broke loose. Sapnap rushed forward and plunged his sword deep into the king’s head, the screams of the children falling on deaf ears as Sapnap drew back his sword and cut through him again, cleaving the king in half. Sapnap spun and grabbed the queen’s neck as she tried to run away, he threw her onto the ground, caving her face in with a single stomp. The screams ended as his gaze landed on the children. There were two of them whimpering and crying on the ground. He raised his sword and brought it down on one and then the other, relishing in the sobs that broke from the second. All that was left in the throne room was four corpses each beaten beyond recognition. Despite his revenge being complete the rage boiled over inside him, sword in hand Sapnap rushed from the castle stabbing anyone in his path. Running through the town, in the reflection from quiet stores and homes, something or someone ran alongside him. He somehow made it past the gates and into the surrounding forest, still he kept running. Only did he stop when he crashed face first into a stream.

It wasn’t particularly deep, but Sapnap still struggled to get out and hauled himself onto the shore. He threw his sword to the side and fell on his back taking in deep shuddering breaths. The rage inside him had frozen into a numbness at first contact with the cool water. It was only now that his bones ached and his muscles quivered, it was only now that his eyes struggled to stay open. Sapnap felt something press against his left side, turning his head he saw nothing was there, but his clothes were still pressed against him as what felt like a small child curled up beside him. On the other side Sapnap felt a similar presence, sleep overtook him as something held his right hand and a voice quietly murmured in his head. ‘Thank you, brother’.