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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

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I don't think some people understand just how absolutely terrifying Mori is and I want to talk about it.

When you meet him it will most likely be in a casual place such as the street or the mall with Elise by his side, naturally. The little girl takes a swift liking to you and basically demands Mori to convince you to play with her and he obeys. It is honestly a little humiliating seeing a grown man beg for something like that but it is endearing in its own little way. Feeling bad for them both you agree and promptly make your way towards the playground where the three of you spend the day together, responsibilities be damned.

Before you know it, the physician and his daughter become something of a semi often occurence in your life.

Mori himself is silly - tripping all over his words, especially if Elise says something to him. There are times when the little girl says some of the most concerning things totally out of the blue but Mori always manages to shut her up, which feels out of character for him.

It feels like some sort of secret that you really should not hear but you decide not to pay any attention to it. Everyone has secrets to keep, a skeleton or two deeply hidden in their closets, you don't judge Mori for this.

He is greatly pleased with your easygoing attitude.

Mori often sits in his pitch black office, the scent of fine chocolates and cigarette smoke lingering in the air as his subordinates give him their reports but his mind is elsewhere.

He's half paying attention to the executive's words as he grabs a tiny heart shaped chocolate from the pristine red box, its surface shining brightly against the light that is lit close to him. He pops is in his mouth and savors the milky flavour, the sweet strawberry centre giving it that extra delightful kick which he oh so craves.

Mori indulges in the sweets and thinks of you as he does so. Yes, this is something you would love.

The gifts start pouring and pouring, each one more extravagant than the last. They range from fine sweets, good wine, beautiful clothing and letters which detail the senders feelings towards you. The sender never bothered to sign the letters but always made sure to add something like I'm always watching or Sleep well.

It was creepy.

You tell Mori about some of the gifts that are left on your doorstep but never go into full detail as you're too nervous of scaring him off. The older man always somehow manages to laugh the entire sitation away and tells you to not so worry so much. Don't you know that some people would kill to have someone so helplessly in love with them? He sits on your couch, legs crossed and with a cup of tea in his hands, which you served him of course. You talk and talk and his words give shallow comfort especially as time goes by.

Was he being too forward? Did the gifts not suit your preferences? With a sigh he just waves off his men, all while thinking to himself "Ridiculous, of course they love it!"

Mori thinks you're just shy. You just are not used to someone paying so much attention to you, especially to the extent that Mori is. He has eyes and ears everywhere, your apartment is under constant surveillance and not to mention that the apartment itself is bugged, allowing Mori to hear you speak and do your other daily activities.

He knows you better then you know yourself.

It does not take Mori insert himself in your life in more personal ways. No matter who, Mori always somehow manages to make the people around him look worse than he is and in a flash he orchestrates the downfall of your whole entire life. You lose your job, your home, your friends and family no longer speak to you.

Some, if not all are dead but you don't need to know that.

That is when he comes to you, when you are at your weakest, your most vulnerable. He drops the silly act like a mask and his true colours are exposed.

Mori Ougai is a monster.

But, would you rather sell your soul to a monster or be left in the streets alone, unloved and penniless? Truly, your life would be so much easier if you just submit to him and look, you don't even need to do that much! Eat the food he feeds and wear the nice clothes he gets you and you will be golden!! Just, be still and pretty, alright?

It's honetly so jarring to see Mori's personality shift - one minute he is the silly doctor you met and grew to like, the man who says dumb things in order to make you laugh, the man who was willing to beg on his knees for you to just please, wear this cute outfit, it is going to look so good on you he promises!!

And yet, the next moment he is cold, cruel and calculating, the head of the Port Mafia. He is a man of his word and his subordinates greatly admire and fear him, yes, fear. Do not forget that Kyouka literally started shaking when she saw him after she left the Port Mafia, almost everyone who is in close contact with the man is never the same person they were once before. He will make himself out to be the best possible option and you know that he is the reason why your life is in shambles but that's not even the worst bit.

It is the fact that you have two options. Do you go to the streets and die in the darkness, be it from starvation, dehydration or murder? Or, do you stay with Mori who all but guarantees your safety and comfort, under the condition that you can never leave?

He knows you hate him and he is perfectly content with that. You will choose him in the end, you always will.

That is what keeps you both up at night, one with glee while the other with terror.

🕊️ TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @rosemary108233, @itssara-chan, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #bsd mori #yandere ougai mori #yandere ougai mori x reader #mori #mori ougai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs

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duckymcdoorknob · 2 years

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Happy Valentines Day, Ducky! Could I do a box decorated with ribbon? I’d like milk chocolate (Iida & Midoriya), with a mix of square and round shapes, and half raspberry creme and half caramel fillings? Thank you 🥰❤️

And NICE AN ANGST-> FLUFF PROMPT LESGOOOO

Yes of course!!!

Omg I love this gif so much

I hope you enjoy!!!

This took a hot minute oopsie.

CW BELOW THE CUT: Spoilers for MHA S5! Continue at your own risk!

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 ❤︎

As Izuku’s eyes sprang open, the wind left his chest. He shot up in his awful dorm bed, choking on the little air left in his lungs. What had woken him up? Why did he-

As he looked around with bleary eyes, he noticed the pink-tinted red lines that decorated his hand.

Had his quirk activated in his sleep…?

He looked at the broken vase of flowers, and the knocked down books.

What did he do?

Later that day at his match, the greenette remembered preparing for battle, assuming a fighting stance as Monoma teased him, then not much else. He only exited his trance when he was slapped by Ochaco.

“Wh- Uraraka? Y-you’re all beat up!”

“Hey. Don’t worry, I’m fine!”

“What happened? Where’s Monoma?” He asked with sudden urgency.

“Deku…”

Before she could finish, the two were passed by the infirmary bot carrying a practically lifeless Monoma.

“Did I-“ the oh-so-familiar feeling of the breath leaving his lungs occurred once again, “Did I do that?”

“Yes but, you lost control of your quirk! You can’t view that as a reflection of your charact- Deku wait!”

Ochaco called vainly as three other friends chased after the fleeing boy.

But he was already gone.

Izuku raced to the dorms, tears falling from his eyes. He rushed into his room and locked himself in the restroom, immediately lamenting within his bathtub. As his anguished cries echoed through the empty hallways, not a single soul knew.

That is until three of the greenette’s friends finally caught up with him, being instantly met with his pain-laced cries.

“Let me go first.” One whispered, three fingers already fixed on the doorknob.

“Sure.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Midoriya, I’m coming inside.” The friend announced.

When he entered the room, the friend couldn’t see Izuku at first. He only heard the heartbreaking sobs that echoed from the linoleum floored room.

The crying boy inside began to hiss at himself through gritted teeth. “I can’t control my quirk… how useless do they want me to become? Not only am I unpredictable, I’m a loose cannon! I practically killed one of my classmates!”

“I’M A MONSTER!”

The friend couldn’t keep his composure anymore, and opted to yell “you don’t mean that!”

Only a gasp, then dead silence, was audible…

“Midoriya, it’s me… are you crying?”

The lock to the door clicked, accompanied by choked sobs and muttering. Squeaky footsteps echoed across the shiny floor, seemingly retreating to sit somewhere once again.

When the door opened, an anguished Izuku locked eyes with Iida.

“H-how much of th-that did y-you hear?“

“Just enough to have to step in.”

The cries silenced into hiccups, ceasing for a mere moment. Iida’s name emitted from Izuku’s lips, like a whispered prayer.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, shutting the door behind him.

“I- I hurt… I-I almost- M-Mon-oma- I-“

“Okay, I’m going to come hold you. I can’t stand by and watch you suffer alone.” Tenya replied softly, in which a sniffling Izuku nodded gently.

Leaving all dignity at the door, Iida sat criss-crossed on the bathroom floor. He sat right behind the boy who was losing his mind.

“You’re not alone, I’m right here for you.”

These were the words that Izuku needed most….

The poor kid immediately turned around to face Tenya, burying his face into the latter’s chest.

“There you are, let it all go.” The ravenette whispered, wrapping protective arms around him; cries once again echoing through the room.

“I’m such a monster, Iida.” Was all the smaller male could manage to repeat through his cries.

Iida held his head high. Closed eyes and even breathing helped to keep his own composure. He can’t cry yet, he needs Izuku’s to know that he has a friend in times of need.

Instead, he opted for fast comfort:

“If you’re a monster, then I must be a nightmare.” He muttered in reply, gently holding the quivering boy in his lap.

Izuku looked up to see Tenya teary-eyed himself, His original thought was that his friend was just so disgusted by his behavior. But, that comment solidified that he was not alone…

“I… I could’ve killed him…” he whispered, tears still leaking from his wide eyes.

“As if that’d be an injustice.” The bespectacled male joked.

A watery chuckle emitted from the weepy boy in his lap. “Cmon, let me self-loathe in peace.” The smile that toyed at his lips was threatening its way out.

“I’ve at least gotten you to laugh, thus far. I won’t let you go back to such a dark place.” Tenya explained, gently running his hand up the length of Izuku’s back.

These words hit the greenette like a truck; Iida was right…

As more loose chuckles escaped his lips, his cries retreated to nothing more than the occasional hiccup. He hugged the ravenette tightly, smiling brightly.

“Thank you for helping me see who I really am.”

The hug was returned instantly, the latter’s much larger frame practically over enveloped the former.

“Anytime, Midoriya.” He whispered, “Except… can we get off of the bathroom floor? I think the reason I’ve begun to get emotional was due to my disgust of the floor.”

With a sheepish yelp, the greenette hopped off of Tenya’s lap, and offered him a hand to stand. Soon both students were on their feet, and ready to visit Monoma when the time was right.

❣︎𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡❣︎

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

#mha #my hero #my hero academia #bnha iida #mha iida #Iida #Iida tenya #tenya iida #Deku #Izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #iidadeku #anime #anime fic #anime imagines #cutesy confections #mha deku #mha comfort

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littlegnoblin · 3 years

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Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend and other half @donestiel

read on ao3

Dean comes home from work to find Cas and Jack sitting at the table, red heart-shaped lollipops strewn in front of them.

He gives Cas a quick kiss. “You trying to give the kid a sugar rush or what?”

“Daddy! It’s for Valemtime’s Day!” Jack yells excitedly, hopping off his chair to hug Dean’s legs.

“It’s pronounced valentine, Jack.”

“I don’t know, valemtime kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean says. Jack beams up at him and he can’t help but ruffle his hair.

“Yes, well, the holiday has become so bastardized that I suppose renaming it wouldn’t hurt.” Cas squints at the box the candy came in. “Does no one find it odd that their children are passing around cards demanding others belong to them?”

Dean sits down and pulls Jack into his lap, flipping through the little pink cards. “I don’t know that you’re supposed to think about it that hard, dude.” He comes across a card that reads ‘kiss me’ and holds it up. “This, on the other hand-- they’re five, what the hell do they need to be kissin’ for?”

“I want kisses!” Jack protests.

“You’re a little kiss monster.” Cas leans in and presses a big, exaggerated smooch to Jack’s cheek. “How was that? Did it satisfy the beast?”

Jack giggles and nods enthusiastically.

“Hey, I’m gonna need to sample one of those kisses myself. Make sure they’re regulation-- standard procedure.”

“Is that right?”

“‘Fraid so,” Dean says with a shit eating grin.

He’s expecting a goofy kiss like the one he gave Jack but Cas uses his thumb to tilt Dean’s chin just so and kisses him deeply.

They break apart when two tiny hands push at their faces and Jack tells them to knock it off.

“This is what Valentine’s Day is all about, champ. Besides, I thought you liked kisses.”

“You guys do it gross.”

Dean smiles and bounces his eyebrows at Cas, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small curl of his mouth.

“Perhaps your father will help you write your classmates’ names on the cards while I get dinner ready.”

“I can cook,” Dean says quickly. The thought of Cas’ last attempt at cooking has his stomach churning and he’s pretty sure feeding that toxic waste to Jack would be considered child abuse.

Cas holds up a cardboard box. “It’s frozen pizza.”

“Alright, I’ll do babysitting duty. Just make sure you take the plastic off this time.”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your own child and that was one time.”

“One time too many,” Dean mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, dear.”

Cas glares at him. “I expect you to eat a healthy portion of salad along with your pizza tonight.”

“You making it yourself or is it bagged?”

The glare intensifies.

Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy, did you like doing valentine’s stuff in school?”

“Nah, it, uh-- it wasn’t really a thing when I was your age.”

That’s a blatant lie but Dean’s not going to tell him the truth and bum him out. What five year old wants to hear that their dad didn’t do Valentine’s Day exchanges because there was barely enough money for food, let alone candy, and he never really stuck around any school long enough to get included in the holiday stuff. Shit’s depressing.

“So you never got no cards or nothin’?”

“Nope.” Dean never got cards but he did get invited under the bleachers a few times in high school to unwrap a different kind of present. He’s not telling him that either, though.

“That sucks. Can I have a lollipop?”

“Nice try, kid.” Dean taps on the card in front of them. “Get to writing.”

He oversees the careful labelling of the cards, reminding Jack to double check the list of names anytime he spells something wrong and corrects a few backwards letters. They debate who gets what card and Jack complains that he has to give one to Tom who keeps cutting him in line.

Cas rejoins them in the middle of Jack’s impassioned rant, hiding his smile behind his hand.

“While I agree that Tom is a-- what was it you called him?”

“A butthead.”

“Yes, right, a butthead. While I agree he is a butthead, unfortunately I think you need to be the bigger person. Maybe this will even convince him to stop cutting in line and you two can be friends.”

“No way. I don’t wanna be friends with Tom.”

“You never know,” Dean says. “I didn’t like your dad when we first met, but I think he’s a pretty okay guy now.”

Jack looks at him wide eyed. “You didn’t like Daddy?”

“No way, he was a butthead.”

“It was more of a misunderstanding,” Cas explains.

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

Cas lifts an eyebrow and stares him down. “What would you call it, Dean?”

Shit, that should not be so hot.

“Not the point; the point is that I didn’t think I would ever like your dad and now we’re married. Things change.”

Jack furrows his brows, considering. “I don’t want to marry Tom.”

Dean snorts. “You don’t have to. In fact, please don’t. His mom is a nightmare.” Cas kicks him under the table. “What! She is!”

“You don’t have to marry him and you don’t have to be friends with him,” Cas says, ignoring Dean completely, “but you do have to give him a card and some candy.”

Jack grumbles but does as he’s told. Dean’s legs are starting to fall asleep but he’s become increasingly aware of how fast Jack is growing up and soon-- way too fucking soon, if you ask him-- he won’t be sitting in his lap at all so he silently resigns to not feeling his legs for the next ten minutes.

“All done!” Jack yells and throws his hands in the air.

“Sweet, now let's stick some candy in these bad boys and call it a night.”

“Wait, there’s a extra, what should I do with it?”

“Is there anyone who’s not in your class that you’d like to give a valentine to?”

Jack gasps and slaps a hand over Dean’s eyes, nearly poking one out in the process. “Close your eyes, Daddy!”

Dean dutifully closes his eyes until Jack tells him he’s finished. He slowly opens one eye and sees the pink card held about an inch from his face.

“For me?” he gasps dramatically.

“Yes!”

The front of the card reads ‘You’re the best!’ and when he opens it, he finds ‘Daddy’ written in some of the neatest handwriting from Jack he’s ever seen. Beneath it he’s signed his name, the K backwards like it always is on his first try.

“I gave it to you because you never had one before and also you’re the best daddy ever, who makes me yummy chocolate chip pancakes and cheeseburgers and does funny voices for bedtime stories,” Jack explains.

Dean wraps his arms around his son and rests his cheek on top of his head, his heart feeling fit to burst. “Thank you, Jack. I’m gonna keep this forever.” And he means it.

“Welcome. Can I have a lollipop now?”

Cas points at Dean. “He gets that from you.”

After the valentines are carefully put away and they’ve had dinner (plastic free and edible, which Cas seems proud of), Jack gets a bath and is tucked in bed. Dean and Cas spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Doctor Sexy and drinking beer. Party city.

When the Doctor Sexy reruns switch to Jeopardy, Dean knows it’s officially midnight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.”

They tip their bottles together.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not planning anything,” Cas says, picking at the label on his beer.

“What? No, of course not. We never do anything. I thought we were on the same page about avoiding that shit after our first Valentine’s together.”

They both shudder thinking about the sweaty cupid ‘handshake’.

“We are, but we never actually discussed it and I…” Cas pauses and tilts his head. “I think having Jack around and seeing the world through his eyes, experiencing things in a new way, it makes me wonder if we’re not missing out on some of the little things.”

“Hey, we appreciate lots of the little things-- like you not cooking frozen pizza with the plastic still on.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay. So you sayin’ you wanna celebrate now?”

“Sam and Eileen do.”

“Sam and Eileen are saps. And they don’t have a five year old running around.”

Cas makes a sound of agreement and softly strokes the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You make a fair point. In all honesty, I don’t want to do anything extravagant but I would like to take the opportunity to remind you how much I love you. Am I allowed to be sappy for a moment?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess you deserve one day to get it all out.” He puts their bottles down and faces his husband. “Lay it on me, big guy.”

Instead of looking annoyed, Cas just looks fond. “You know, it’s ironic that a man as full of love as you are is so quick to dismiss any sentimentality. You are a fascinating creature.” A thumb sweeps under his eye where he’s got permanent dark circles and settles at the corner where his lines get deeper every day. It makes Dean want to squirm but he holds still under the reverent touch. “Perhaps that’s why I never stood a chance.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says, dropping his eyes to the couch.

“Hush, I’m allowed, I’ll have you know. My husband gave me explicit permission.”

“Well, your husband is thinking about rescinding the offer.”

“I love you.”

Cas says it with such conviction that Dean can’t help but look back at him, at his bright eyes and soft smile; at the evidence of his love written all over his face.

“I love you, endlessly, Dean Winchester. For everything that you are; the good and the bad. From the moment I saw your soul in hell, so bright it was almost blinding, I knew I would never be the same. You breathed life into me, gave me meaning and purpose, taught me the value of love, and you did it all, selflessly, simply by being the man that you are.” Cas draws him close, presses their foreheads together. “I can never give back all that you’ve given me but I promise you will have my love until we are nothing but a forgotten memory, and longer still.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and they breath together in the small space between them.

“You can’t-- you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispers.

“And why not?”

“Because it’s not true, first of all.” Cas opens his mouth to argue but Dean covers it with his hand and hurries on. “You’ve already given all of that back and more. God, Cas, if it weren’t for you I’d have been dead years ago. I needed to stick around-- to take care of Sammy, to stop whatever or whoever was trying to end the world next-- but you… you made me want to live. Really live, not just survive, you know? I fuckin’ love you, man.”

Cas pushes Dean’s hand away and presses his lips against Dean’s fervently.

When they finally break apart for desperately needed air, they both pretend they aren’t sniffling like little girls.

“You happy now? Can we go back to not doing this?”

Cas laughs. “I hadn’t planned on making it quite so emotional, I apologize. You always bring out the most in me.”

“Ugh, enough,” Dean groans, shoving Cas’ smiling face away. “You aren’t allowed to say anything even approaching romantic for the next twenty four hours, capiche?”

“I can agree to that, as long as I’m allowed to give you a gift later.”

“I thought you said you didn’t plan anything?”

“It’s nothing big.” Cas’ fingers sneak under Dean’s shirt and trail along his stomach, dipping to his waistband. “I just happened to walk by Victoria’s Secret and see a pair of pink satin panties in the window.”

Dean’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Not gonna lie, that seems more like a present for you.”

Cas hums and leans over Dean, forcing him to lie back on the couch. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to do whatever you want while you wear them.”

When he kisses him he tastes like cherry candy and Dean thinks could learn to like this holiday.

#spn #destiel #deancas #bend-me-shape-me #sweatercas #rambleoncas #acklesy #alivedean #userpris #usersila #goodthingsclara #shelikestv #hope you guys dont mind me tagging you!!!#sarah writes

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littlemessyjessi · 3 years

Text

“Chasing Jessi”: A Sirius Black Story: Plus Size OC: Chapter 7: Tinkerbell & The Lost Boy

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Sirius Black Imagine Turned Story

Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.

Sirius Black x Jess Scamander (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)

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Sirius Black was lounging comfortably in his bunk. He hadn't even bothered to change out of the KISS shirt and black flannel pajama bottoms at this point. He was reading through a book that he'd borrowed from Jess. Contrary to popular belief... Sirius actually loved to read.

He’d rather die than admit that but he’d learned from an early age that it could easily provide an escape from his horrible daily life.

Again though, he’d rather die than admit and let someone see him doing it.

He was up rather early on a Sunday morning- something that used to be obscenely out of character before he played Quidditch. Now, it seemed that his biological clock was against him. However, it proved rather useful when wanting the shower to yourself or getting to breakfast while everyone was still in bed. He'd been to breakfast already and was currently just relaxing for he had been informed by a tired looking Lily Evans that Jess was not coming down for breakfast this morning. He had been slightly disappointed but guessed that it was because the two girls had been up late talking. He figured that girls did that just as much as boys did. Although, for Jess's sake he hoped not because James had nearly driven him mad last night by both talking about every detail of his and Lily's date and all but demanding the same from Sirius. Honestly, boys were just as bad as girls when it came to gossip.

If not worse. However, he supposed he could just try and read this ridiculous book of hers until she awoke. He had really just settled in and was beginning to immerse himself into this fantasy world when.... "Sirius!!!" His brows furrowed and he glanced over at Remus who was studying on the floor in front of his bunk but he only shrugged.

"Sirius! Ooof! Sorry! Sirius!" "What in the name of Merlin?" he pondered as he sat the book down and went to the door to see none other than his hyperactive girlfriend balancing a package on her hip and apologizing to a fourth year boy who went white as a ghost at the sight of her. "You're ...you're not supposed to be up here." the boy said. "Oh, I'm sorry." she said to him. "I'm just looking for Sirius. See, I have something I have to-" The boy was too shaken to speak. To be fair, she was still wearing her pajamas and he was a fourteen year old boy, most likely with a crush on her. And she was only wearing a big floppy yellow smiley face shirt and some rather short multi colored shorts. "Over here, love." Sirius smirk. She turned to face him with a relieved smile looking so odd with her floral cat ear headband and her big blue monster house shoes. "Thanks, anyway." she told the boy and gave him a one armed hug. Sirius almost snorted when the boy looked as if he may pass out. The poor boy probably didn't know whether he found her attractive, terrifying or strange....or all three. "What are you doing up here?" he asked her as she came to a stop in front of him, "And in your pajamas no less?" "I have something for you." she said simply but he smirked and she smacked him in the stomach, "Not that!" "Aw, and it's almost my birthday too." he moaned playfully and he opened the door and let her him. "Hello, Remus." she greeted the studious green eyed boy. "Oh, uh, hi Jess." he said a little surprised to see her there, especially in her pjs. "Remus, she beats me." Sirius wailed dramatically. "She wounds me." "If it's to your pride..." he said. "I suggest she do it some more. Your head is far too big as it is." Jess grinned in victory. Sirius gasped, "Moony, old boy, I can't believe it! Everyone's mistreating me and it's almost my birthday!" "Sirius, if you don't come sit down, then I'm going to open your present." she informed him smartly. "Present?" he asked. "What present?" "This one." she said tapping the lid of the green box. "You got me a present?" he asked curiously taking a seat on the bunk as the box lay between them. "No." she said. "Well, yes. I did. But this isn't it. This is from my mum and dad." "What?" he asked in disbelief. "From mum and dad." she repeated. "She sent a blasted howler as well. Damn near threatened my life if I opened it. So I'm guessing it's rather good and most likely involving food. Best open it sooner than later." Sirius' hands shook just a little as he pulled the box open and cringed as a howler floated out. It was that same familiar shape that he recognized as the ones Jess usually got. From previous experiences, he was expecting yelling but relaxed when he saw the letter transform and the dark wax sealed lips give him a smile. It began to speak in a soothing tone, "Hello, Dear. Happy Birthday! I do hope you have a good one this year and that you get this package in time. Jess mentioned that you had a particular liking for toffee and fudge so I do hope you like what's inside. She also mentioned that you loved music and so there is something extra special inside from my husband. He said that he wanted it to go someone who could appreciate her as he much as he did. I wasn't allowed to see so I'm trusting that it's appropriate and if it's it not, you'd best tell me so I can tan his hide! Everything is under the shrinking charm so all you need to do is use the Engorgio charm. If you have trouble with it, I would advise you to ask Lily rather than Jess. She means well but she tends to get terribly excited and...blow things up. We are so excited to see Jess making such lovely friends! She speaks very highly of you and bless your soul, you must be patient to deal with her antics! I do hope she isn't being too rough. Some of those pictures... Merlin, I feared she'd nearly kill you with that one on the broom. I've told her about that! Nevertheless, any friend of hers is a friend to us. Welcome to the family, sweet boy. Have a wonderful birthday, dear! May you have many more! P.S. Do not let my child con you out of your presents with her innocent face. I know that she 'seems' sweet but if you give in...you'll regret it. Trust me. Her father has been wrapped around her finger since she was six seconds old. " When the letter was finished it ripped itself up and turned to ash. Sirius was a little disappointed. It had been so nice...he had kind of wanted to keep it. He glanced up to find Remus looking at him curiously and Jess looking mildly offended. "She makes me sound like some kind of animal." she scoffed. "Well..." Remus smirked. "I'd say more reptilian. You do have a certain, what was it you called it Padfoot? Dragon lady...quality about you." "Remus Lupin!" she scolded him. "You are a booger head and I am not talking to you anymore!" "I have chocolate." he said lifting his brows at her and holding up a piece. "All is forgiven." she said racing over to join him. "So what did she get you?" she piped up from her spot with Remus on the floor. Sirius reached into the box to pull out a container and he smiled. "Toffee." he smiled. "Oooh!" she gushed and jumped on his bed. "That's mum homemade toffee! It's really good! She won a blue ribbons for it at the local Muggle fair!" He pulled another out and observed the white chunks with rainbow sprinkles. "Birthday cake fudge." he smiled as he read the label aloud. "It's really good." Jess nodded. "It tastes like white chocolate and cake batter. Mum makes it for Dad every year on his birthday. I bet she had to make two batches!" He pulled out a jar of something and for just a moment it made him think of firewhiskey but he smiled when he read the label. 'Sirius, dear, this is a new recipe I'm trying out. It's called Toffee Syrup. We like to put it in porridge, tea, pumpkin juice, coffee...come to think of it, anything really. I've added just a bit something special to this one. I'd love to hear what you think.' "Mum'll kill me for telling you this but it's really good you mix it with firewhiskey and put it over ice cream." Jess piped up and he lifted his brows at her. "And here I thought you were sweet and innocent." he commented. She laughed, "Sirius, we both know I'm far from either of those." He pulled out a black knitted hat. "Oh, Mum, doesn't want you to catch cold!" she wailed dramatically. "Don't cry on it." he teased. "But she stitched it with love, Sirius!" she wailed again. He resisted the urge to shove her off the bed when something caught his eye. A small black case and upon further inspection he realized that it was a guitar case. 'Engorgio.' he murmured and enlarged it before pulling the zipper open to reveal a beautiful black acoustic guitar. "Ophelia!" Jess squeaked. "What?" Sirius asked her. "It's Ophelia." she said. "It's Dad's guitar. He let me name her when I was a little girl." Sirius frowned, "Oh, maybe you should have it then." "Nah." she shook her head. "I'm rubbish at guitar. I'm a drums kind of girl...much to mum's dismay." She grinned wickedly and pretended to play the drums.

She never failed to make him laugh. He pulled it out and ran his hand over it before glancing into the case and seeing the matching strap and an envelope. He opened the envelope to reveal a small note and a silver chain with a matching guitar pick on the end. "Hello, Sirius. I hope you have a very Happy Birthday. Jess tells me that you love music along with many other things. She seems quite fond of you and speaks of you quite a lot. Which is considerably out of character for her. You have to understand that for the longest time when she wrote home...it was usually to tell us that Lily's eyebrows had grown back or that she'd was very close to finding redcap colony. Naturally, as her father, I was a little defensive about you at first. However, you seem like an alright lad and she seems to take a liking to you. Any man that will willingly let her braid rainbow colored yarn into their hair....well you're alright with me, kid. I hope you have a great birthday and you enjoy old Ophelia. P.S. If you press the guitar pick, you can record yourself. Comes in handy when you're working on songs. ' Sirius carefully sealed the letter back up and placed everything delicately back in the box. "Sirius?" Jess whispered. "You have really, really good parents." he said quietly. Remus quietly left the room, deciding it was best to give the two of them some time. "I know." she said softly. Sirius just nodded, still just slightly shaking until she placed her hand on his. "Maybe you can meet them sometime. You know, to properly welcome you to the family and all." she said. There was more to that statement than either of them were willing to talk about at that moment. Grey eyes caught green and they just stared for a moment. She decided to break the tension with some comedy. "Mum may be swayed by your charms but I will not being giving you your present from me until it's your actual birthday." she said. "You got me a present?" he questioned. "Yes, and I'm not telling so don't even try!" she scolded as she stuck her finger in his face. He smirked at her challenge as he carefully placed the box underneath his bed and grabbed her ankle. "Not even if I do...." he trailed off as he hovered above her neck. "This." She bit her lip when his lips caressed her skin. "No!" she cried out. "Don't use your tricks!" "How about here?" he asked kissing her nose. "Never." she whispered. "Alright." he said. "But I think I'll try one more." "I'll never surrender, Captain Hook!" she called out, grinning wickedly as she saw her book on his bed side table. "Now, now Tinkerbell. Let's not be rash." he teased. "Now give me some of that pixie dust." She erupted into a fit of giggles, "Sirius Black, Lord of the Cheeseballs!" He tickled her relentlessly, "Surrender!" "Never!" she said rolling out from underneath him and racing into the halls, "Lost Boys, unite! We have to defend ourselves against the terrible Captain Hook!" The muggleborns got it, thought it was weird, but go it. Everyone...just kind of wrote it off as Jess being Jess. And James Potter stood at the foot of stairs looking at his friend with an odd expression on his face. "What?" Sirius asked. James shook his head. "Nothing. It's just...you two are clearly into some weird things." he said. Sirius laughed and shoved his friend along into his room. The thing was...he didn't mind her little games. He loved them almost as much as he did her.

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

Hello, loves! How do we feel about Sirius’ early bday present from Jess’ parents? How are we liking their relationship so far?

I’d love to what you think! Please feel free to hit up the ask box, blast the comment section or reblog with your thoughts and feelings! Next chappie coming soon!

All my love darlings!

Kenny

————————-

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Love, Kenny

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black imagine #sirius black story #sirius black x ps #sirius black x plus size #plus size #ps #ps ofc #ps oc #plus size oc #plus size ofc #sirius black x oc #sirius black x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders era sirius black #young sirius black

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destiel-love-forever · 4 years

Text

What a Jerk

It’s Valentine’s Day. For Castiel & Dean, that means war.

Read below or on AO3: HERE

"What a jerk," Castiel grumbles, closing the door as the delivery man leaves.

"Who?" Benny asks from his spot on the couch a few feet away. He turns to look at Castiel, more words about to come out. Then he sees the giant bouquet of flowers in Castiel's hands and grins. "Oh. Dean."

"Stop smiling. He's an asshole." Castiel storms off to the kitchen. Since his penthouse apartment is an open-floor plan, though, he doesn't escape Benny. He just gets his bitch face from a new angle.

"Yes," Benny says sarcastically. "What an asshole for buying you flowers."

Castiel huffs as he searches for a stupid vase for the stupid flowers. "I told him not to do this."

"Yeah, bad idea. Telling Dean not to do something is pretty much the equivalent of challenging him to a duel."

There's a dusty vase beneath the sink. Castiel takes it out and fills it with water, not bothering to clean it first. When it's filled enough for the flowers to survive - because Castiel isn't a monster, he's not going to purposely kill beautiful flowers - he stuffs the bouquet into the vase.

"There." He sets the vase on his kitchen island and breathes a sigh of relief. "At least it's over now. Right?"

Benny snorts. "Dude, it's 8 AM. There's no way that's all he has planned for the day."

"You work for me, ya know," Castiel says in a voice that's supposed to be threatening but isn't. "You have to take my side."

"I'm your bodyguard. I keep you safe from bullets and kidnappers. Not overbearing lovers."

Castiel sighs in frustration. He pulls out his phone and very aggressively types in Dean Winchester's number.

Dean answers almost instantly. Clearly, he had been waiting for this call.

"Hey, C-"

"This stupid romantic nonsense is a waste of money and I swear Dean Winchester if you get me any more presents today I'm going to break up with your stupid ass!"

"So you got the flowers," Dean says with a smile in his voice. "Good. You should get ready for work, my love. Don't want to be late."

"Don't ignore me, Dean! You promised. You promised not to do this!"

"No. You ordered me not to do this. I never agreed."

"Dean-"

"Have a nice day, babe. I'm sure I'll be hearing from you soon."

"Dean!"

"Oh, and Cas?"

Castiel grits his teeth, fuming. "What?"

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Castiel growls - yes, growls - and hangs up. He throws his hands in the air and turns to Benny. "What a jerk!"

----

When Castiel stops at his favorite coffee shop for his usual morning Americano with cinnamon, the barista already has his order ready. It has a message written on it in Dean's hand writing, black sharpie scrawling its way across the disposable cup.

You are so brew tiful. I love you like I love my coffee - inside me (;

Castiel rolls his eyes. "What a jerk."

"Sorry?" the barista says in confusion.

"He's a jerk." Castiel grabs a disposable cup from the stack beside the register. He pops the top off the one Dean wrote on and pours his coffee into the fresh, non-Valentine cup. Then he tosses the graffitied cup and nods at the barista. "Have a good one."

"Uh… yeah." The barista watches him go, looking crestfallen. Clearly she had found it romantic. Disgusting. "You too."

----

Another bouquet of flowers is waiting for Castiel when he enters his private office. He glares at it from the doorway for a long moment before huffing in annoyance, going over and grabbing the damn thing. Still dressed in his trench coat, still with his briefcase in his left hand, Castiel walks down to the bull-pen and lifts the vase in the air.

"Who fucked up today and needs a Valentine's Day present for their significant other?" he yells, his anger making most of his employees shiver or tense up.

It takes a second but then a woman in the back tentatively raises her hand. Charlie. She's dating Dorothy from accounting. They're a cute couple.

"They're yours," he announces, thrusting them out in the air to silently tell her to come get them.

Blushing, she makes her way to Castiel. She mumbles something about not forgetting but running out of time this morning. Castiel couldn't care less whether Charlie forgot or not. He just doesn't want to stare at the damn flowers all day.

Once they're out of his hands, Castiel waves a hand in the air and says, "As you were."

Benny is smirking when Castiel gets back to his office.

"What's so funny?" Castiel asks in a voice that's supposed to be threatening but just makes Benny's lips lift higher. "What?"

"I'm assuming you didn't see the box of chocolates."

Castiel parts his lips, about to ask what Benny means, when he sees a heart-shaped box beside where the flowers had been. He deflates. Goes over to his chair. Slumps down. Sighs dramatically. Then he takes the box and reads the attached note.

Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. - damn glad I got you, babe ♡

"What a jerk," Castiel growls at the box. He rips the lid off and snatches a piece of chocolate before pushing it toward Benny. "Stop fucking smiling and eat. And don't tell him I ate any of it. That asshole knows I can't resist chocolate so you have to lie."

"Sure thing boss," Benny says with a wink. "Sure thing."

----

"Are you Castiel?" a man dressed in a cupid costume asks.

Castiel shakes his head. "Nope."

Unfortunately, he's in the breakroom at work and his employees think this whole battle between Dean and him is hilarious. Balthazar says, "He's lying" at the same time Chuck says, "He's Castiel."

Castiel decides he's going to fire them both.

The cupid smirks and turns to Castiel. Castiel puts a hand up in protest. "Whatever it is, I don't want-"

"Lord Almighty,

I feel my temperature rising

Higher higher

It's burning through to my soul

Boy, boy, boy,

You gonna set me on fire

My brain is flaming

I don't know which way to go

Your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir

You light my morning sky

With burning love"

"Nope," Castiel mumbles under his breath, grabbing his lunch and heading out the door. "Nope, nope, nope."

The damn telegram follows him. Everyone in the office stares, their jaws dropped open as the goddamn CEO is followed around by a glittery man dressed as cupid singing an Elvis song. Castiel isn't even embarrassed. He's just pissed.

Castiel enters his office and shoots a glare at Benny who had conveniently been gone to the bathroom when this all went down but is now back at his rightful place by Castiel's side. "Make him leave."

"It's coming closer

The flames are now lickin' my body

Please won't you help me-"

"Why? He isn't a threat."

"He has a weapon!"

"It's a plastic bow, boss."

"And my chest is a-heaving

Lord Almighty

I'm burning a hole where I lay."

"I own this goddamn building and I'm telling you, head of my security, to kick him out!"

Benny gives him a wry smile. "I'll get right on it, boss. Highest priority."

"Cause your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir-"

"You're fired."

"Oh, well, in that case I suppose he'll get to stay."

"Ah, ah, burning love

I'm just a hunk, a hunk of burning love."

Castiel grabs his office phone and presses 7, gritting his teeth. With every ring that passes, his rage boils. He's a breath away from exploding.

"Singer's Auto, this is Dean."

Castiel slams a finger down on speaker phone and turns to glare at cupid as he finishes the damn song.

"Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love."

Finally, it's over. Cupid winks at him before leaving. Benny smirks. Dean - the jerk that he is - is laughing hysterically on the other line.

"I hate you," Castiel states very matter-of-factly.

"Oh come on!" Dean snorts a laugh. "It's Elvis! You love Elvis!"

"Not anymore! Congratulations, Winchester. You have officially ruined Elvis for me."

Dean laughs harder. "God, I love you babe."

"Gaaaah, no!" Castiel hangs up the call before Dean can use his mystical powers to sweet talk Castiel into forgiving him. It ain't happening.

Castiel bangs his forehead against his desk a few times before deflating against it. "What a jerk."

----

Castiel walks into the first jewelry store he comes across. He storms past all of the stupid Valentine's decorations and up to a young man in a sharp suit who is smiling far too wide if you ask Castiel's opinion. Castiel smacks the palm of his hand on the glass display in front of the man and growls, "I need a goddamn engagement ring."

----

A ring box heavy in his pocket, Castiel stands outside Dean's small two-bedroom house. The yellow paint is peeling back in places, revealing the blue beneath. They come from two completely different worlds. Dean, the eldest son who sacrificed everything he had to raise his baby brother, dropping out of high school, working two jobs, scraping his father off whatever bar floor or sidewalk he ended up on most nights. Castiel, the eldest son who had the world handed to him, private prep school, undergrad at an Ivy league, two master degrees, no student loan debt, a $100,000 no-strings gift from his father to start up his own company.

Dean lives in a house that was foreclosed and rotting on the inside. He’s owned it for three years now. The floors and roof have been replaced. The staircase rebuilt. The walls repainted. The kitchen remodeled. The bathroom gutted. All Dean’s doing since he couldn’t afford to hire contractors.

Castiel lives in a penthouse apartment in a building that’s only seven years old. He got to pick in a catalogue what model of every room he preferred. Professionals molded his home into exactly what he wanted it to be in two weeks, handing it to him furnished and beautiful.

Dean works 60 hour weeks at his uncle’s auto shop, always smelling of oil and sweat. He drinks Jack Daniels. Listens to classic rock. Wears stained jeans and cotton shirts so worn they have holes in the collars and become see-through in certain lighting.

Castiel works 80 hour weeks, but only 30 of them are spent in the office, the rest spent on his phone or at his home so he can lounge on his couch and peruse documents without worrying about employees bothering him. He’s currently working through a bottle of 1926 Macallan. He listens to classical music, as well as plays it himself on his own grand piano that overlooks the city. Wears tailored Brioni suits and silk ties to work, settling for Gucci denim pants and cashmere sweaters when he's casual.

They should have never even met. Castiel would never take his car to a low-grade dealership like Singers. Never. You just don’t do that. Castiel was sure they wouldn’t even know what to do with a custom built Tesla like his. Yet, there Castiel was, broken down outside of the city with a migraine the size of Texas and stubborn impatience that made waiting for the professionals from the dealership that would take 3 hours a choice he wasn’t willing to make. So, he typed in auto shops on google and picked the one nearest to him.

Singers Auto.

Dean had showed up all southern drawl and warm smiles. Flirted right past Castiel’s foul mood. Stroked the hood of his Tesla like it was a cherished pet. Spoke to Castiel confidently about his knowledge on the vehicle. He offered to tow it into the city for Castiel if Castiel wanted but assured Castiel that if he chose to let Dean bring it to Singer's Auto, Dean would be able to take care of it.

“Easy fix,” Dean had said. “In and out. Twenty minutes.”

Castiel had agreed. It was completely out of character but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted more time with the mechanic.

He left that day with a fixed car and Dean Winchester’s number.

They never once brought up the salary gap between them. Some nights they’d crash at Castiel’s. Some nights at Dean’s. They’d go to five-star restaurants and gorge on filet mignon and lobster. They’d go to McDonalds and demolish burgers and chocolate milkshakes. Neither of them so much as blink.

Castiel smiles to himself as he looks at the house again. Where will they live? Castiel could care less, if he’s being honest. He’ll move here if Dean wants. He can deal with the furnace that needs to be kicked every few days as a reminder to work again. He can deal with the pipes that always freeze in the winter. He can deal with the way the fifth step creaks because Dean messed up when building the staircase. As long as he has Dean Winchester, he has everything.

“The hell you doin’ out here?” Dean yells from the front porch, snapping Castiel from his thoughts.

The ring box in his pocket grows hot in anticipation.

“It’s Valentine’s Day!” Castiel yells back, casually walking across the street from where he parked. “I figured if you’re going to insist on celebrating the idiotic holiday, I might as well win by outdoing you.”

“Oh, really?” Dean huffs a laugh, taking the porch steps two at a time until he’s on the grass of his front lawn. “How do you expect to do that?”

Castiel stops when he’s on the sidewalk, about five or so feet between them. He gives Dean a cocky grin that makes Dean’s smirk fall just an inch. Dean Winchester doesn’t like to lose at things - especially all of these silly competitions they get themselves into.

How long can they go without having sex or masturbating, and who will break first and beg the other to fuck him?

Who can eat the most pie in one sitting?

Which one can buy the best Christmas gift?

Who can win the most tickets at the arcade?

How long can they keep their prank war going, and who will be the one to finally throw in the towel when it goes too far?

Who can scare the other badly enough to make them scream?

Which one of them will win the cheesy romantic award of Valentine’s Day 2020.

Castiel won the 1st, 3rd, and 6th.

Dean won the 2nd and 4th.

Neither have won the prank war bet - it’s still on-going.

But Castiel Novak is going to win this damn Valentine’s Day award. If Dean wants to play this game today, it’s on.

“Cas-”

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel says softly, in a voice sickly sweet and loving. He lowers himself to one knee and reaches into his pocket.

Dean’s eyes flare with rage. “No! Don’t you dare!”

“You’re the love of my life-”

“Stop!”

“I can’t imagine any possible future that doesn’t have you in it-”

“I hate you so much right now,” Dean chokes out, eyes welling up.

Castiel smirks and opens the ring box. “Will you marry me?”

“No,” Dean grumbles with a pouty look on his face. Then he growls low in his throat and shakes his arms like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “Fuck - fine! Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Grinning, partly because the love of his life just agreed to marry him but mostly because instead of Dean evening the score Castiel is now 2 points ahead, Castiel pushes to his feet and slips the ring on Dean’s finger. He tugs Dean into his arms and kisses him breathless.

“Proposed to me on Valentine’s Day,” Dean says with an incredulous huff, resting his head on Castiel's shoulder and hugging him. “What a jerk.”

If you enjoyed this, please consider supporting my starving artist bum by donating at my Ko-Fi or becoming a Patron <3 Everything helps!

#fluff #destiel #dean winchester #castiel novak #valentines day #hopeless romantic dean #cas hates valentines day #arguing #this is war #valentines day war #benny #ceo cas #mechanic dean #cute #romantic gestures

267 notes · View notes

mynachopaper · 4 years

Note

Heyo...I’d like you to answer all of the weird questions that say a lot please...😇🖤

That’s very naughty of you. I expect payment when I’m done...

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Wine glasses. I love their shape

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubble gum, I like the oral fixation

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Wierd, creepy, creative. “He needs to find an outlet or have a beating”- My arabic teacher

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass bottles

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Tomboy

7. earbuds or headphones?

Headphones

8. movies or tv shows?

Both

9. favorite smell in the summer?

river in the cedar forest

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Fencing

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Nothing (sometimes fruit if I need to)

12. name of your favorite playlist?

SHmood

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Turkish delights

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

Simon versus the Homosapien agenda

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Legs to my chest on a chair

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

My trainers

18. ideal weather?

Thunder and rain

19. sleeping position?

Curled up on my side

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Notebook but laptops are great for convenience

21. obsession from childhood?

Horror stories and or occult (Yes I cringe too)

22. role model?

Don’t have one

23. strange habits?

I like to practice voices and movements (mostly for DnD) anywhere. Shopping, cooking, with the cat. normally I’m on my own but I’ve been caught a few times.

24. favorite crystal?

Obsidian

25. first song you remember hearing?

Wide, wide as the ocean- My dad sang it to me as a kid

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Swimming

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Bonfire jumping (used to do it with the scout kids)

28. five songs to describe you?

Fall into me- Alev Lenz

Rush- I am waiting for you last summer

Smile- Nat King Cole

Limb to limb- Fatal

Kiss breakdown- Micheal Brook (Perks of being a wallflower soundtrack)

29. best way to bond with you?

Discuss your passions and your fears. Other than that, play silly games with me.

30. places that you find sacred?

Anywhere that is deemed so.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

My pajamas (honestly no idea)

32. top five favorite vines?

Don’t have favourites.

33. most used phrase in your phone?

I love you to the moon and back.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

I have adblock so I don’t hear enough for them to get stuck. Maybe the old spice commercial.

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

The orly owl

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Duffel bag

38. lemonade or tea?

lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Lemon meringue pie (obviously)

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Nothing too weird. We did have a slew of dead birds that were killed and placed in weird positions. They were claimed to be omens.

The culprit was never caught. But I did have an old journal where I kept notes on them. I lost it in the move though..

41. last person you texted?

My online friend in the uk

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie, I need the soft

44. favorite scent for soap?

sandalwood

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy, DnD for life

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Shirt and underwear

47. favorite type of cheese?

Brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Orange

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

Already answered

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

When my friend and I got stuck in traffic so we listened to the John Mulaney story about the salt and pepper diner. Afterward we actually made the playlist and listened to it. We died, the song got to us and we lost our minds.

51. current stresses?

My Father being ok back home. Me not finishing uni. Breaking my promise to my friends back home of making something of myself.

52. favorite font?

Bree Serif

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Their ok, quite dexterous. My nails have grown out too

54. what did you learn from your first job?

People take production for granted. The public opinion of a show means little. The entertainment industry is weaker than everyone treats it.

55. favorite fairy tale?

The Bloody Chamber

Book by Angela Carter

56. favorite tradition?

Our family does breakfast in bed for the birthday person

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Self harm, the invasion of my country, getting out of my old life.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I improvise well, I remain calm in an emergency, and am often the first to act. I have good emotional skills. I will always find a way, though it often comes at great cost.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

After someone tells me I can’t do something “HAVE YOU MET ME?!”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Probably Shonen. Love me some JoJoBA

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Yeah, I stayed. I stayed, because every time you threw a brick at my head, or said I smelled, it *hurt*; but it could never hurt more than every day of my life just being *me*! I *stayed* because I thought, if anyone can change me, can make me... *not* me, it was you! - Kung Fu Panda

62. seven characters you relate to?

Tarzan-Stich-Quisimodo-Ginger (From Chicken run)- Po (Kung fu Panda)- Mulan (Yes really)- Charlie (Perks of being a wallflower)

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Shut up and dance with me- Walk the moon

Suzy- Caravan Palace

Rocket Fuel feat. De La Soul - DJ Shadow

Come with me now - KONGOS

Dance with me tonight - Olly Murs

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Miniclip

65. any permanent scars?

Some on my arms and a large one on my forearm

66. favorite flower(s)?

I’m a cliche, I love roses

67. good luck charms?

My Celtic ring and my pride pin

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

It was chocolate shrimp in Sanfrancisco. Fad food with an abhorrent mixture.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Spiders don’t kill every prey that falls into their web. Sometimes they just wrap them up and let them squirm helpessly.

70. left or right handed?

Right, unless eating

71. least favorite pattern?

Uh... not sure

72. worst subject?

Maths

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Fries and Icecream

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I was 5

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Baked potatoes, especially with Sour cream and garlic

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

A succulent?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Sushi from grocery

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

School Id (not by much though)

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

Fireflies

82. pc or console?

83. writing or drawing?

Writing, though I wish I could draw

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Neither

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

That I had no impact on anything

88. your greatest wish?

To gain the power to change the world

89. who would you put before everyone else?

The one I love. A partner (If we had a child then it falls to them)

90. luckiest mistake?

When I had an accident at work over my selfharm wounds. Some metal staging scraped against my arm.

91. boxes or bags?

Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Fairylights

93. nicknames?

Teddy, Monster, Quis

94. favorite season?

Winter

95. favorite app on your phone?

Reddit is fun

96. desktop background?

My current Pfp

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

2 My parents

98. favorite historical era?

Don’t really have a favourite

9 notes · View notes

nervousalpacahologram · 5 years

Text

13 Hours, AKA the O5-Council at their Peak.

One:

Everything the Coalition used was automated. Mechanical reality anchors and suits of armor. Prosthetics, Guns, even their beds were integrated. It all worked so well, so simply Perfect.

Until Him.

With a twist of his hand, the guns misfired, Anchors failed, the armor contracted and crushed their occupants. Men and Women and Machines fell, destroyed by the very things they thought kept them safe.

The Coalition could fall in a day. The Coalition will fall in a day. The Coalition Has fallen in a day.

O5-1 will see to that.

Two:

She stands above them, a Sword of Scouring Light and a Rod of Iron held aloft over the teeming hordes. Words echo, in every language and none, and the commanders weep as soldiers fall on their swords.

“For The Messiah!” They cry as their throats are slit by hands that are no longer their own.

“For The Lord!” They scream as their fingers tear out their eyes in Rapture.

“For Our God!” They wail as they turn arms on their brethren, no longer themselves.

Blood pours from her hands and forehead, an endless deluge made from the fallen. Her Smile is as broken as her halo.

Three:

A scarred hand holds the Caduceus, a scarred body is flanked by guards, a scarred mind turns inward anger outwards.

It doesn’t matter who’s the one begging at his feet. Maybe it’s Emerson, who burned and burned and burned all those around him. Maybe it’s Director Bocoume, using the innocent as Test Subjects. Maybe it’s the Engineer, turning the vulnerable and the weak to their own ends. Maybe it’s the Hermit, Secrets and Lies turned against his fellow man.

No matter who, his Caduceus smashes into their skull, caving in bone and flesh into a bloody red crater. The Law’s Left Hand drag them away, Mirror-visors turning the accused’s broken visage back at them.

“There’s always room for more D-Class” He thinks as their screams fade into nothing.

Four:

He’s a man, he’s a god, he’s a demon.

Whatever he is, it’s no matter.

His Clothes are Red, his Hands are Red, his Smoke is Red.

His words are like poisoned honey, dripping off his silver tongue as he speaks and persuades and threatens. Golden eyes pierce the opposition, burning deep with fractured light.

He’s here, he’s there. In one second he’s in China, the next America. Then Britain and Russia and Egypt and Japan and Brazil and all the way down down down.

His work is never done.

Five:

He’s Clothed in Black and Gold and the whole world rests under his thumb. Nations kneel at his feet, kissing the Ring of Bloodied Gold.

His skin is dark, inlaid with gold leaf. His curls are shaved chocolate, almost glittering with shattered gems. The riches of Man flow through his veins, molten Gold and Silver, while he gazes out on the world through Diamond eyes.

Blackbirds wheel and shriek under golden skies, alighting and perching to whisper all manner of secrets into his ears. He knows the names and births and deaths of those who pass him, all foretold by Blackbirds.

Everyone knows those damned Blackbirds.

Six:

He’s a white blur, fighting his way through guards armed to the teeth and weaponized anomalies. It’s a beautiful dance, great jets of dark blood arcing through the moonlit night.

A Gunshot. A Broken Back. A Pulverized Face. A Gunshot. A Knife Sliding Through Flesh. An Explosion. Another. A Broken Spine. A Gunshot. A Gunshot. Another. And Another And Another And Another And Another.

The Insurgent Priest begs for his life on his knees. His eyes are filled with tears of terror. Six merely cocks his head at the weeping, pulling the trigger to spatter the grey concrete Red.

Seven:

Walls and Wards and Chains and Shackles make up their domain. A world where everything has it’s place, where everything is Bound once and for all. A world of Black and White and Black and White and Black and White and Black and White and Black and White and Grey.

They’re a pair of broken fetters, a pair of tooth-bound hair sticks, a back turned to their loathsome kin. They’re Bound and Free, Weak and Mighty, Broken and Whole.

Even as the World Burned beneath Crimson Skies, they stood resolute, ready to snare the Rapist King and drag him to the darkest pits of the Earth. Even as The Godkillers stared back at them, having slaughtered so many, they stood unyielding. Against Man and Gods, The Apocalypse and Creation, they were Never Moved, Never Faded, Never Fell.

In Black and White and Black and White and Black and White and Grey We Believe.

Eight:

It wasn’t even a Year and he had already fell so far. Several Destroyed sites and so many simply Erased. His soul was shattered that day, breaking into a million cold Splinters. They would reform, but no longer into they shape it once was. His new soul was jagged, cold and patchwork. A Light Died that day, reborn as a vestige of itself.

He retreated into solitude after that, coming into the Light almost a decade later. He was no longer the man he once was but carried himself with a newfound grace. His head was held high and his hands no longer shook.

Many of the Foundation’s enemies fell in the next days, chess pieces and dominoes knocked over one by one. An invisible hand struck them all down, until 14 entire GOIs had fallen by his hand in 4 years.

The Foundation has many hands, and the Eighth is just another one.

Nine:

How did she Know? Who told her? Where was the Leak?

Those were all questions the Council asked when a paper was published. A madcap theory of the Anomalous. They could use their vast resources to strike it down, but for some odd reason, it made Sense.

They found her in her house. The walls were filled with papers and documents and and scientific papers, all strewn with Blood and Ink. She was found, hands bloody with days of writing, surrounded in empty cups of coffee. A grand board hung in front of her, lines of red string connecting the Foundation and the GOC and the Insurgency and and and.

Four and Seven have to stop her from pouncing on them in delighted, half-insane interest.

A job was offered almost immediately following an 11-1 vote, with no 9 to abstain.

Ten:

The Serpent Of Eden. The Keeper Of The Ends Of The World. The Archivist.

Her Hands and Eyes scour the unnumbered pages, the stories of those who have lived and died in the Dark for the sake of those in the Light.

Her Blood thrums with the words of the Fallen, of the Forgotten, of those who were here once, but never again. Her Thoughts travel at lightspeed, cataloging and composing the History of Everything into neat little lines.

She dances in the roots of Yggdrasil, delighting in the leaves and boughs of Light and Life, cutting away the choking vines of Ignorance and Fear, the borrowing insects of Obliviousness and Worry.

The Serpent whispers and coils around the first of Man, whispering the secrets of the World in their newborn minds.

Eleven:

They were unknown for so long, a conditional memory in the minds of the Overseers. Until they burst into existence, an antimemetic butterfly bursting free from the chrysalis of anonymity.

They spiraled into existence, 10, 100, 1000 parallel beings all held inside one form, let out into the world to hold the secrets of the Foundation beneath the ice.

Liars and Postmen and Bureaucrats, Businessmen and Historians and Dust. They whirled into existence like the horrors of Pandora’s box, men and women and others holding the Foundation on their shoulders.

They are a God in their own right, the God of the Common Man.

Twelve.

He is Lost and Found, Forgotten and Unforgettable. The Physician is no longer himself, held between Everything and Nothing.

He rests in the coils of the Serpent, Anantashesha reborn forever. He is clothed by the Escapee, eyes of Colorless Green and clothes of Halcyon Fire.

What was once a man who sought out anything he could to forget is a man no longer, ascendant past the fear and horror that drove him to madness. Now he stands above it all, doling out Blissful Oblivion to those who would much rather forget.

Memory can be a tool, and it is one that he has taken up.

Thirteen:

Yosef Bin Tamlin

Joey Tamlin

The Meddler

Time

I’ve been called many names, worn many faces, spoken many different tongues. I’ve lived and died and been a bit of both for as long as I can remember, as long as anyone can remember, as long as You can remember.

Yes reader, You. You are the catalyst for everything that has begun here. A writer cannot much exist without an Audience, without Attention. And you, dear reader, have provided all the necessary Attention the Writer could ever want.

You have birthed the monsters described in these entries just as much as they birthed themselves.

Congratulations.

#SCP Foundation #the o5 council #o5-1 #o5-2 #o5-3 #o5-4 #o5-5 #o5-6 #o5-7 #o5-8 #o5-9 #o5-10 #o5-11 #o5-12 #o5-13 #religion /#blood /

51 notes · View notes

hexlikesramennoodles · 5 years

Text

All Yours (All Mine)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Rating: T Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse Word count: ~2.3k

At some point during their off again friends, on again fuckbuddies phase, Billy had rolled over in bed and said to Steve, You know, you’re pretty and all, but you’re also kind of weird-looking.

It was the kind of comment that was intended to be as insulting as it sounded. They had a routine, and they stuck to it. A routine where Billy would end up in Steve’s bed and things would shift for a night, and then they’d come full circle. Billy would try his best to put his foot in his mouth, letting slip to Steve something like, I’ve had better sex with girls or don’t think this means I actually give a damn, Harrington and instead of walking home with a full belly of pancakes (or whatever other stupid romantic venture Steve has in mind for their mornings after, Billy never stays long enough to find out), Billy would walk home with a split lip and bandy legs, and that dangerous shift—cosmic, spiritual, physical, personal—would be corrected.

It’s better that way, Billy reasoned. Saner. Neither of them can afford to get too comfortable.

“What are you drawing?” Steve asks.

His foot is touching Billy’s under the table, in full view of the cafeteria. Billy doesn’t look up. His chocolate pudding sits unopened next to his elbow, the fingers of his other hand curled protectively over his napkin, hiding it from Steve’s line of sight.

“Nothing,” he huffs.

Steve arches an eyebrow, plastic spoon protruding from the corner of his mouth. He looks fucking adorable. Billy presses the tip of his pen into the napkin, rendering the shape of Steve’s lips in violent navy slashes. It’s not his best work. He’s no Van Gogh.

But. It’s something.

“Show me,” Steve says. He’s got that look in his eye. A wet shine, like light winking off a sharp edge. He knows Billy well enough by now to just understand.

They’re more on than off, these days.

“Shut up,” Billy says, wrenching his hand away. “Sit still.”

Steve slumps back in his seat, rolling his eyes at the ceiling as if he’s saying, get a load of this guy. Billy ignores him. Tries to. The spoon of Steve’s pudding cup rolls between his lips. He slips it out and licks it clean, licks the handle, sticks it all the way into his cheek with a loud squelch.

Billy scribbles on his napkin. He draws porcupine quills for Steve’s ridiculous hair; big, flat gingerbread buttons to match Steve’s doe eyes. His stomach rumbles. They’d left Steve’s house together that morning, Steve wheedling Billy the whole way. C’mon, Billy, at least have a bit of bacon. He may as well have been asking Billy to stay. Asking him to let himself be coddled, spoiled, babied. Like Billy’s some empty-headed broad who needs to be reassured by that sort of thing. Come on, Billy, lemme make you breakfast, huh? Come on, Billy, sell your soul to me, be mine, all mine. What’s the worst that could happen?

Wouldn’t Steve like to know.

He does know, but only the carefully curated snippets that Billy feeds him. He knows that Neil counts his calories and weighs him twice a week. He doesn’t know that if Billy’s not up to par, Neil gives him a smack on the chops. One smack per pound gained. He doesn’t know that Neil’s all lean, mean muscle, with a thumping lefty. Billy’s thicker around the middle, stockier. Steve doesn’t know that Neil says Billy gets it from her. It’s never ‘your mother’, it’s always Her.

“Am I still allowed to read my comic?” says Steve.

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Billy says, still scribbling. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Steve says, insolent, but low enough that Billy can pretend not to hear him.

Just for a second, he dares to look up. Steve’s distracted, pudding wobbling from the end of his spoon as he turns a page. He’s holding one of Billy’s comic books open, flattening the spine against the table with his palm. It’s one of those Chose Your Own Adventure rags, its pages bisected into maze-like algorithms of different scenarios that you trace with your finger. Steve loves them. Billy used to love them, too—when he was about twelve years old. He collected them and stored them in a wooden chest in his room, not just the ones where the reader gets to decide the outcome of the story but issues of The Amazing Spider-Man, MAD, Weird Tales Magazine. Turns out, Steve didn’t grow up with any comics; his parents only read National Geographic, and hold anything lesser in high contempt. When Billy gave Steve a whole binder’s worth of his old comics, he informed Steve it’s only because he felt sorry for him. That it’s pretty pathetic, Steve never having read The Amazing Spider-Man until he turned eighteen.

“My nose isn’t that big,” Steve says.

He leans all the way over, hand moving from his comic book to push Billy’s aside. His mouth contorts into a bemused frown as he takes in the picture Billy’s drawn on his napkin, the little stick figure Steve staring back up at him from behind a pair of smudged Ray Bans.

“Yes, it is,” Billy says. Patiently, like Steve has the cognitive capacity of a second grader.

Steve tugs the napkin out of his grip. “It’s huge!” he exclaims. “You literally drew a triangle for it. I look like a witch or something.”

Billy balances his pen on his upper lip and waggles his eyebrows. “You know what they say about guys with big noses.”

“They’ve got big dicks?”

The pen drops from Billy’s lip. He glares at Steve with mock reproach. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Harrington.”

Picking the pen back up, he draws a tiny speech bubble next to stick-figure Steve’s mouth: Hey, asshole! Stick-figure Steve is shaking his fist at some unknown aggressor. It’s how Steve looks when he’s mad enough to give Billy a smack on the chops of his own: eyebrows scrunched in a furious line, teeth bared, face blotchy. About as intimidating as an angry kitten.

“You like my nose,” Steve says softly.

His foot brushes against Billy’s under the table. Comfortable, warm. Billy wants to ignore the shiver that runs up his thighs, but it’s difficult. Less than four hours ago, Steve was kissing him there. Starting with Billy’s ankles, mouthing over the balls of his feet and his calves before moving gradually to his knees, then his thighs. He’d stopped maddeningly short of his groin, laughing when Billy had bucked his hips and called him a cocktease.

As if Steve knows what he’s thinking—as if Steve’s thinking of the same thing, of kissing Billy’s thighs, the two of them sprawled in a cozy tangle on Steve’s sheets—he draws his foot up, somehow worming the tip of his sneaker underneath Billy’s jeans. Billy imagines kicking him in the shin, just for the hell of it. Steve should know better. Especially when they’re in fucking public, in front of a hundred of their own classmates, for fuck’s sake.

“It’s weird,” he insists.

“That’s why you like it,” Steve says. He licks his spoon again, slower. The hair on Billy’s thighs is standing up, tingling as if charged by static electricity; he presses them together, almost groaning at the sensation of denim dragging against his skin. He’s vaguely aware that he’s watching Steve’s mouth avidly, his own mouth tasting arid, parched for something that can’t be quenched with water.

He wonders if Steve ever sees himself. If he ever looks in the mirror before leaving the house and asks his reflection, hey, is this even appropriate?

Because if Steve had any decency, any sense of shame, he would. And he’d also stop staring at Billy like that—eyes heavy at the corners, bottom lip jutting out around the edge of the spoon. When Billy had called him weird-looking, what he’d really meant was confusing. Steve’s nose is slender but somehow bold, angular; his cheekbones are high, and his mouth is pointy and pouty but also, not. It’s a man’s face but there’s a softness to it, too; a femininity that strikes Billy as not only personally offensive, but downright fucking nonsensical. He doesn’t understand how someone can be so oddly proportioned yet so in proportion at the same time.

Billy likes his life ordered. He likes things to fit neatly into their little boxes; it means he’s in control. It means that Maxine is scared shitless of him and his dad’s a bastard for all eternity and Susan’s Susan and Steve Harrington is off, not on. Inside this strict, organized reality of Billy’s creation, Steve’s foot certainly wouldn’t be touching his knee right now and he wouldn’t have brought him an extra pudding cup because Billy refused to eat the bacon and eggs Steve cooked for him that morning and Steve wouldn’t even prefer Billy to be a little heavier, he’d want Billy to be more responsible with his weight, have some respect for his body—

“You like my mouth, too,” Steve’s saying. “And my hair. My eyes, of course you like my eyes. Why else would you have gone to all this effort?” Crooking the spoon upwards, he reaches across and taps the stick-figure Steve with his pointer finger. “You like me, Billy.”

God, Billy’s created a fucking monster.

“You’ve got pudding on your face,” he blurts out.

The words aren’t Billy’s words. They don’t come out nasty—they’re not even remotely scathing. Things have shifted again, but Billy can’t tell if it’s in Steve’s favor or not. He has as much to lose as Billy does, after all.

Steve smiles at him, gentle. He doesn’t swipe the stray pudding from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand; doesn’t stammer or withdraw or furrow his brow. It’s as if Billy’s shown his hand already, but that frustrates him, because he doesn’t know when. He can’t even tell if Steve’s bluffing, trying to back him into a corner he’s not aware of. Shit, Steve’s not bluffing. He can’t be. That wouldn’t be playing fair.

Steve lifts the comic book, placing it next to his ear. “It’s all yours, Hargrove,” he says.

He cups his chin with his hand, waiting. Billy’s stared at Steve’s hands for perhaps as much time as he’s stared at his face, trying to figure out how it’s all supposed to work. He suddenly wishes he could draw better, so he could get Steve’s hands on paper properly. Immortalize them, or whatever.

He thinks he could teach himself to draw Steve’s hands. He knows them off by heart; knows their feel and their weight and their specific warmth, how they look around Billy’s neck. The marks they leave behind, deep, ingrained marks, like flowers pressed into the pages of a book. Billy can touch them and think, look: here Steve was, is. Here you can be loved, if you know what’s good for you.

For as long as Billy can remember, his father has called him a mistake. Said he’s mismatched, crooked, wrong like Her. Steve’s hands are crooked; so is his hair. But he makes Billy laugh, and, when Billy asks for it, he makes him cry. Tenderly. When he does that, Billy doesn’t feel so wrong; he feels stripped naked, made anew. That, by holding him and kissing him and smiling at him like he is now, Steve’s drawing all the bad blood out. Hands wringing him clean.

Steve shakes the spoon at him, his mouth and eyes shining with strange, cryptic light. They’re mismatched, Steve’s eyes. One has slightly more hazel in it than the other. Billy’s chest is heavy and warm, as if Steve’s placed his foot over his ribs instead of his leg. They’re mismatched, him and Steve. Whatever the fuck they have, on or off, is scrapped together haphazardly from different pieces of their lives, like an old quilt sewn from other old quilts, scratchy and smelly and a little ugly, but snug nonetheless. Good shelter for storms and shadows.

Billy leans forwards, closing in on that secret space between Steve’s mouth and his ear. All around them rises a rabble of voices like vapor from the forest floor, kids laughing and catcalling to one another across the cafeteria. Steve holds the comic book upright, shielding both their faces. When Billy kisses him, he tastes the sweetness on Steve’s lip from where his pudding spoon missed his mouth, but it was never about that. When Billy said, You’re kind of weird-looking what he really, really meant was, I like you, a lot, and when he kisses Steve now what he means is, All mine.

#this is cheesy but i saw the ultimate steve harrington gifset and i just #his face confuses me #but it also intrigues me #and i can imagine (or want to imagine) poor billiam being equally confused/intrigued/turned on #harringrove #my writing #tumblr ficlet #steve harrington #billy hargrove #apologies to those reading this on mobile #in that ugly af font

218 notes · View notes

taimebangchan · 6 years

Text

Jikook Fic Masterlist

since i’m incredibly bored here’s a giant masterlist of all the jikook fics i recommend that you read :)

your little moon face, shining bright at me by cygnus (sunsprite). Words: 89824. Chapters: 16/16. Jimin lives an unassuming life, working at the small and quaint coffeehouse known for its reoccurring open mic nights to showcase indie performers, while he juggles between who he truly wants to be and breaking the conformity his parents try to shape him into. It's dull and grey, full of sleepless nights-- dreamless, even, how he doesn't have much going for himself. His routine is all but a fixed, tedium cycle. That is, until Jimin meets someone interesting during one of their open mic nights.

We Can Be Golden, Why Don’t We Show Them? by hato96. Words: 37097. Chapters: 12/12. "Your eyes..I remember those amber eyes. Those same yellow-orange orbs that gazed at me before. You're the one who saved me."

Unknown Number by bananacookies. Words: 22384. Chapters: 16/16. J_Paaaark1 is following you. Par9J3333 is following you. Say hi! New follower! JImChim26. ChimChim26 has sent a friend request. Accept? Jiminie000 is following your snaps.

two sides; same story by namjoone. Words: 12569. Chapters: 4/4. Okay, so maybe Jimin thinks his neighbor is hot. A little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Tonight We’re Okay by vvtaehyungvv. Words: 3236. Chapters: 1/1. Jungkook gets set up on a blind date with the most ethereal person he's ever seen, and starts to believe in fate because of him.

the waiting game by bonnia. Words: 6819. Chapters: 2/2. It’s a waiting game. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t have to come back, but with every little touch, every time Jungkook does, and every time Jungkook lies down right next to him, pressed up close, torturously warm and smelling like cigarette smoke and cologne, Jimin can’t help but feel like he could — would — wait years just for Jungkook to come back to him again. (Or: In which Jimin is a prostitute and Jungkook is his favourite customer.)

The President’s Son by AmeliaBedelia. Words: 55060. Chapters: 13/13. The man in the suit stepped forward. He bowed deeply, holding his position as he spoke. “Jeon Jungkook,” the agent introduced himself. “It’s an honor to serve you.” Jimin narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the tall man once he stood back up to his full height. “Jeon Jungkook?” “Yes, sir.” Jimin cringed. “Sir?” he echoed in horror. “Don’t call me sir. That’s what everyone calls my dad.” The man nodded. “Yes, sir.” ----- Jimin's surprised when the death threats he's been receiving while attending university warrant additional security. But, he supposes, it only makes sense, considering his father is the president. You know, of the country.

The beginning by CloudLeopard. Words: 26319 Chapters: 1/1. When Jimin takes a summer job at a cafe owned by Jungkook's mother, he has no idea that it's going to be the start of a series of life-changing events.

texas by honeyrolls. Words: 7937. Chapters: 2/2. Jimin gets a little too horny in Texas.

Tastes Like Victory by eumorious. Words: 170475. Chapters: 13/13. "You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me. You show me a sensitive side, then you turn into a total asshole." Jeon Jeongguk's, a successful underground fighter, life collides with the damaged, vulnerable stripper Park Jimin who needs training on how to fight and defend himself against his clients. Jeongguk is the perfect candidate for the job.

Take the pain away by pastelrainbows. Words: 3788. Chapters: 1/1. Soulmate au where your soulmate can take your pain as their own (under certain conditions). Jungkook has zero interest in soulmates. Jimin is all heart (and soul).

Surreptitious by Bangtanbananas. Words: 69152. Chapters: 11/11. Vampires and lycans have been at war for centuries. For Death Dealer Jimin, his orders had always been the same: hunt the lycans, kill them off. But when a young lycan named Jeongguk crosses paths with him, their worlds collide in a way like never before.

Smile by sweetmxchi. Words: 1274. Chapters: 1/1. I read a headcanon once that said Jimin talks to Jungkook in satoori to cheer him up and thought it was unfair that the other way around wasn't mentioned. or The one where Jimin is upset and Jungkook is having none of it happening while he's around so he goes to make his hyung feel better. or "Are you alright?" "Why are you speaking in satoori? To make me feel better? "Only if it's working."

Rose Quartz and Pink Opal by jiminanna. Words: 21472. Chapters: 1/1. “Everyone is born with either 1 or 2 small powers. If 1, then your soulmate has the other. They will swap the first time you see each other, and you will obtain both when you fall in love. If born with 2, you have no soulmate.”

Relax, Don’t Do It by yoongidontdoit (sammyinnerdglasses). Words: 24078. Chapters: 4/4. Jeongguk likes to party. Jeongguk likes to party hard. When he wakes up half naked in a Denny's parking lot, for the third time, he decides to commit to something for once and swear to be completely straight-edge for a full 90 days. That includes no partying, no late nights, and absolutely no sex. Easy until Jimin decides to crash land, literally, into his life.

Registered Alpha by Little_Dimples. Words: 12690. Chapters: 1/1. Jimin has to order an alpha online. It's required that every unmated omega order an alpha during their heat so nothing dangerous will happen to them. Jimin honestly doesn't want one but he's turning 20 and his heat is scheduled to come in a couple weeks and there's nothing he can do. When his alpha gets there, Jimin doesn't know if he can handle him.

Red Wolf by TheMonarch. Words: 19790. Chapters: 10/10. Everyone knows about the dangers of the woods. Jimin's father taught him about the monster that lurks there, a wolf. Jungkook, Jimin's childhood friend, is bitten by the wolf making him into the same monster. 9 years later how far will Jimin and Jungkook go to protect each other?

re: I Love You by bonnia. Words: 10658. Chapters: 1/?. "Um, where exactly did you get that? My… my letter.” The contents of my fucking heart, Jimin thinks in despair. Jungkook looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “The mail box?” “Oh my god,” Jimin says faintly. “Is this really happening?” (or: jimin's world turns upside down when his secret love letters get sent out to all of his past crushes, and jeon jungkook makes an offer he can't refuse)

Pink Lemonades, Tattoos, and I Love You’s by sunrr. Words: 123721. Chapters: 25/25. Jimin had his summer all planned out, until he was forced to go to his grand mother's house in Busan. He thought his summer was going to be boring and long, until he met Jeon Jungkook.

On Patrol by Ragi. Words: 129876 Chapters: 22/22. Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable. Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life. Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher. Well, cops need some loving too, right?

On Patrol - Season 2 by Ragi. Words: 124616. Chapters: 20/20. Officer Jeon still has his eyes on Mr. Adorable. Officer Min is a little bit in love with his neighbor. Captain Kim finds comfort in his new family. It's happily ever after for everyone...right? I mean, really, what can possibly go wrong?

Never Judge A Book By Its Cover by whenIseeUsmile. Words: 25266. Chapters: 4/4. Thanks to Jungkook's idiot best friend, he drowned the books he borrowed from the library. Now, he has to work there to work off his debt. He doesn't really like the job but that one boy that always has his nose buried in his books makes his days much better. Or in which Jungkook meets bookworm Jimin and falls harder than he thought he would.

More Than Your Body by whenIseeUsmile. Words: 48670. Chapters: 5/5. Jungkook got an assignment to create a documentary about something he can get involved in and in the beginning, he had no idea what to do. However, when he sees Jimin dance, he knows what he wants. Or in which Jungkook is a film student and may or may not be a little obsessed with the silver-haired man he keeps seeing on his way to university.

more golden than a golden snitch by aborescent. Words: 4542. Chapters: 1/1. Everyone knows that the first year Slytherin seeker Jeon Jungkook's biggest fan is not from his own house but a third year Hufflepuff named Park Jimin.

Little Soldier Boy (Come Marching Home) by MinatheLast. Words: 41595. Chapters: 8/12. If you asked Jungkook what was home, he would say his mother's garden. If you asked Jimin, he would say the healer's tent. So what would happen if those two places were ripped away? Maybe two boys, who weren't quite ready to grow up, find a home in each other.

Just For Training [Re-Upload] by bangtanscreams. Words: 42303. Chapters: 23/23. Jeon Jungkook, using his boxing alias, the Seagull, has recently beat his final opponent, the White Tiger, before entering the National Championship fight, located in the Jamsil Arena in Seoul. Park Jimin, a young masseur just beginning his dream career at the HYYH Club & Spa, and the Seagull’s die-hard fan, doesn’t expect he’d be working his magic on the boxer’s broad, and very naked shoulders, on his very first day of work. But Jimin performs his services with great enthusiasm, and Jungkook realizes that a daily full-body massage won’t really hurt his training.

International playboy (don’t answer) by blt_prf. Words: 95824. Chapters: 19/?. oH I FUCHKED UP I FU UCKED UP YOUR'E NOT NAMJOON yeah what I've been trying to tell you or the one in which Jimin manages to mess up everything in one night and accidentally texts the guy he has a crush on

in which Jimin overworks himself and Jungkook waits up for him by graesun. Words: 1144. Chapters: 1/1. Jimin drags his feet toward the kitchen where the light over the sink remains on. He’s focused entirely on the fridge and thinking about downing one of his chocolate protein shakes when he spots Jungkook slumped over the kitchen table, his head resting on his arms and a blanket over his shoulders.

Imperfectly Perfect by whenIseeUsmile. Words: 205656. Chapters: 33/33. Jungkook just moved to Seoul and comes to a new school. He's quite naive and believes that there is good in everyone. He loves photography and always carries his camera with him. He thought his life wasn't going to change much, even though he had moved to Seoul. However, that changed, when he took a picture of a certain orange-haired boy with the brightest eye-smile he had ever seen.

if you by amazingbees. Words: 20928. Chapters: 3/3. When Jimin was just a kid, there was a boy in his class. A boy named Jungkook. (Jimin & Jungkook go separate ways after high school. Hoseok & Taehyung won’t accept it.)

I’m Hella Obsessed With Your Face by sunrr. Words: 42547. Chapters: 6/6. Jungkook never thought that he would see the boy he fell in love a few summer ago, ever again. Until he bumped into him at a party. (Sequel to Pink Lemonades, Tattoos, and I Love You’s)

i’ll show you how a real pro bends by calipha. Words: 29805. Chapters: 10/10. Jung Hoseok, star airbender of the Bulletproof Boys and crowd favourite for this year's probending championships is injured before a qualifying match. Not to worry though- Jimin and Taehyung are on hand, called in as last minute replacements. Shenanigans ensue.

Hate the way I don’t hate you by blt_prf. Words: 6575. Chapters: 1/1. 10 things Jimin hates about the new kid in his dancing team.

Good Boy by Narsha. Words: 94894. Chapters: 7/7. Jungkook is homeless. Jimin is lonely.

Emotional Colors by WorldwideWriter. Words: 14214. Chapters: 1/1. An AU in which your hair color changes based on the emotions that you're experiencing. or Jimin has been way too obvious about his feelings lately and Jungkook is a hormonal young man who should know that taking off his shirt in front of Jimin is a bad idea.

Duty Calls by whalien101. Words: 11699. Chapters: 5/?. “Everyone, greet our new team member!” “My name is Park Jimin. I look forward to working with you! Thank you in advance for your support.” He bowed, hoping his voice hadn’t betrayed any nervousness. Kim Seokjin, leader of Homicide Investigation Team 1, smiled at him approvingly.

Dilaab by ophixx. Words: 827. Chapters: 1/1. (NOTE: this is a teaser to a potential fic but I’m still very hyped for it) Prince Jungkook returns home once war is finished. But he's been out for a long, long time, that when he makes his appearance on the Jeon's manor, a little surprise awaits for the alpha. New servants being hired for the royal family, and a special scent. He doesn't know why, but the young male gets immediately addicted to it. However, the omega owning the scent is a new recruited butler, Park Jimin. From the moment they both meet, life in the palace will become a challenge. A prince and a butler should never, ever, form a bond.

100% by naxariis. Words: 8353. Chapters: 1/1. jungkook's one man mission to get jimin to finally top him.

Cherry on the Cake by pjmjjk. Words: 9131 Chapters: 1/1. “I can’t get hard.” Jimin thinks he misheard what Jungkook said for a minute but he keeps talking. “I mean I can get hard. But I just- I can’t get hard right now.” “Oh my god.” (Or, Jimin brings a boy with cherry hair home, everything is going well until he gets nervous and things become awkward.)

Basorexia by pjmjjk. Words: 9131. Chapters: 1/1. “You think I won’t be able to get hard again?” “Well, we haven’t talked about it since last time. I don’t know if you’re ready, you haven’t told me.” “You’re right, but…” “But what?” “I wasn’t nervous before but now that you addressed the issue... I just… I don’t know, it’s easier if it comes naturally. I won’t be able to stop thinking about how I couldn’t get hard last time.” “Baby-” “It’s fucking stupid. I’m 22, I should be able to get a hard-on.” (Or, Jungkook is finally ready to try again.)

#jikook #kookmin #jikook fic #fic recommendation #jikook fic masterlist

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peachesandlesbians · 7 years

Text

How They Would Ask You Out (BTS)

Jimin: Jimin would be so shy so he would need lots of encouragement from the boys. He would go the traditional route and give you flowers and a heart shaped box of chocolates. Jimin would knock on the door, nervous but excited at the same time. Upon seeing the gifts, you would know exactly what Jimin wanted.

"Y/N-"

"Yes, Jimin. I will go out with you."

A shocked expression would cross his face.

"Yes? You will?"

"Of course, silly."

Jungkook: Jungkook couldn't muster up the courage to talk to you directly so he would write out a letter. He would ramble about how beautiful you were and why he was so mesmerized by you. Jungkook would be slightly embarrassed by his letter, but he sent it anyway. He would show you his heart, hoping you would show him yours.

You would show up at his door, tears in your eyes at how beautiful his letter was.

"Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?" Jungkook would be surprised and afraid you would reject him.

"No, no. Your letter was so beautiful. I like you too."

V: Taehyung would be serious yet indirect about it. He would do it his own way.

When you were relaxing, he would ask you, “Y/N, listen. How would I ask someone out?” You would stare at him, disappointed, assuming he liked someone else. “You could,” you cleared your throat, “just ask them. I’m sure the lucky woman would be ecstatic.”

"Alright; Y/N, please go out with me."

“Me? What about the lady you were talking about earlier?” “That was about you. So, please go out with me.”

“Of course!”

Jin: Jin would show up at your door, a suit and tie on, and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He would give you a confident smile and hold out the flowers. He would ask you, well, tell, you that you were going to dinner with him. He would have a ride ready for you and reservations already ordered at a fancy restaurant. All you had to do was say yes. And who could say no to that worldwide handsome face?

"We’re going to dinner. Together. Now.”

You blinked. "Um-"

"Please?"

Rap Monster: Namjoon would try to be as romantic as possible. He would get some roses, chocolate, and a necklace for you. When you got home, you noticed there were some new flowers on the kitchen table. You walked over to the counter and noticed a box of chocolates that had a note attached to them. It read:

Y/N, please go to the living room. -Namjoon

You walked into your living room, confused. Namjoon would be waiting for you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Namjoon . . . what is this all about?"

He cleared his throat.

"I've liked you for a long time, Y/N. Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

"Really? I would love to!"

Suga: Yoongi would be a bit shy and awkward. He would practice in his head what he was going to say, but it didn't . . . seem right. So, Yoongi would go back to the thing he relied upon: music. He would hibernate in the studio, trying to come up with a song that described his feelings to you. When Yoongi was done, he would run to drag you to the studio. He would make you listen to the song he wrote. You thought it would be another rap but actually, it was a dreamy love song. Yoongi poured his heart and soul into the lyrics, and you would stare at him, amazed.

"Wow, Yoongi. That was amazing. Who was it about?" you asked, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you thought it wasn't for you.

He would rub the back of his neck, exhaling deeply. "It was about you. This is my way of asking you out.”

"I would love to go out with you." You smiled, your soul singing.

Yoongi couldn't stop the big gummy smile that graced his face.

J-Hope: Hoseok would be spontaneous and he wouldn't even think of what he was going to say. He would deliberately not think about it, preferring to live in the moment. You would be going on a walk with him and Hoseok would slowly hold your hand, looking for any sign that you were uncomfortable.

Be smooth, he would think.

You would give his hand a light squeeze and smile at him.

"Let's sit down here."

You would sit down on a bench and lean your head on his shoulder. He would inhale, loving the smell of your perfume. "Hoseok, look at that cute couple." You would point out two females, that were staring into each other’s eyes, obviously enamored with each other.

"I want us to be like that," Hoseok would blurt out. "Go out with me, Y/N?"

"Of course!"

He would pull you into a bone-crushing hug and let out a loud scream of joy.

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theoriginalspike · 5 years

Note

for the weird ask thingy how about 1-98? so yes all of them please!

I’m gonna put this under a read more so that it’s not insanely long but thank you for allowing me to overshare because that’s literally all i want in life

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

coffee mugs, if i see one that i like, i usually buy it or think about it for a really long time.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

lollipops

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

cotton candy, i can’t stand the smell or taste of bubblegum

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

on most of my report cards i was a pleasure to have in class but has trouble actually turning in homework

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

either soda bottles or glass cups

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

i love the aesthetic of formal but i prefer boho/preppy

7. earbuds or headphones?

earbuds, headphones squish my head

8. movies or tv shows?

movies

9. favorite smell in the summer?

honeysuckle

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

being goalie for handball

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

peanut butter crunch clif bar

12. name of your favorite playlist?

summertime

13. lanyard or key ring?

keyring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

watermelon jolly ranchers

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

fahrenheit 451

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

cross legged or leaning to the side with both feet tucked up next to me (only in a chair/on the couch though)

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

either birkenstocks or my bean boots

18. ideal weather?

slightly cloudy, breezy, and between 60 and 75 with a dew point under 55

19. sleeping position?

any position but on my back

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

i like a notebook, my fingers try to type too fast for my brain so i make a lot of mistakes and i need lines otherwise it slants all over the page

21. obsession from childhood?

i used to collect guitar picks. i have too many

22. role model?

my friend kelsey. she never let anyone’s opinions of her shape who she was. she did what she wanted and was such a free spirit.

23. strange habits?

left goes first. if it’s makeup, my left eyebrow, lashes, contour, blush, anything goes first. left shoe goes on first, left pant leg, left shirt/jacket sleeve. left first or it feels wrong.

24. favorite crystal?

i love amethyst because it’s purple.

25. first song you remember hearing?

probably american pie by don mclean.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

swimming

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

honestly stargazing. getting all bundled up and lying in a bunch of blankets is great. there no humidity to make the stars hazy and on a really clear night it’s beautiful.

28. five songs to describe you?

perfect - anne marie, devil’s in the canyon - the strike, orpheus - sara bareilles, rainbow - kacey musgraves, vienna - billy joel

29. best way to bond with you?

talk to me about music, animals, what you find beautiful or peaceful.

30. places that you find sacred?

any mountain top, the chapel in the pines at camp, fields of wildflowers, any waterfall.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

my black dress with big red roses and my black and white stripe heels with roses.

32. top five favorite vines?

oh shit the tampons one, the no yelling sock, the souls of the innocent, bagel boys, that was majestic

33. most used phrase in your phone?

i have wtf set to automatically replace with what the fuck and i probably use that daily

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

i always have the cropp metcalfe jingle stuck in my head

35. average time you fall asleep?

on a work night usually between 10:30 and 11:30 but weekends its closer to midnight

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

probably those creepy u mad? and sad face drawings.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

i prefer a suitcase but not a huge one

38. lemonade or tea?

it has to be sweet tea if it’s iced

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

lemon cake. lemon meringue pie is never the right sweet/tart ratio

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

my senior yaer they locked the boys and girls bathrooms in the science wing because the boys were setting off axe bombs and the girls were smoking cigarettes

41. last person you texted?

my friend corinne

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

yes

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

yes

44. favorite scent for soap?

citrus. it just smells cleaner

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

i’m a sucker for fantasy

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

i have a couple of dresses that are stretchy but too short to be acceptable (imo) for public wear

47. favorite type of cheese?

i love mozarella

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

i’d be a peach

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

it’s chaos, be kind

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

probably just weird shit from camp

51. current stresses?

mmmmmm job hunting, packing for camp, cleaning

52. favorite font?

i can’t remember the font name but it’s like old typewriter letters

53. what is the current state of your hands?

i need to paint my nails and cut them

54. what did you learn from your first job?

that people are really fucking dumb and don’t read the fine print on their coupons

55. favorite fairy tale?

the princess and the pea

56. favorite tradition?

we always do a big pancake dinner on mardi gras

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

dealing with my hair’s natural curl pattern, and i’m gonna have to get back to you on the other two

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

i can braid hair really well, i can cook without a recipe, i made the highest swim level as a camper in 6 weeks my last year as a camper, i’m really good at cat’s cradle

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“absolutely not”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

i don’t watch anime so i have no idea

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

“war is war and hell is hell. and of the two, war is a lot worse”

62. seven characters you relate to?

radar o’reilly, arya stark, dumplin’, carol danvers, eleanor shellstrop, wayne and daryl from letterkenny.

63. five songs that would play in your club?

gas pedal - sage the gemini, gasolina - daddy yankee, despacito - luis fonsi, bitch better have my money - rihanna, and only nicki minaj’s verse from monster

64. favorite website from your childhood?

neopets or i think it was whitesheepblacksheep but there was a site that had a maze game that was set to the music Orpheus in the Underworld

65. any permanent scars?

my right foot from being born c-section, right shin from a staph infection, left wrist and left foot from ganglion cysts, and my chin from a golf club

66. favorite flower(s)?

all of them EXCEPT for the flowers from bradford pear trees. fuck those.

67. good luck charms?

not really

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

oh god there was a grape juice my friend brenda had me try and it was just so tart it tasted like it had gone past expiration.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

i can tie and untie a hair tie with my fingers

70. left or right handed?

right handed

71. least favorite pattern?

i hate herringbone and houndstooth

72. worst subject?

the only math i breezed through was geometry

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

i really like potato chips and grape jelly

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

like a 6 or 7. unless it’s mouth pain then like a 3 at most.

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

probably 7 or 8? i can’t remember but i DO know that my mother kept all of mine and my siblings baby teeth

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

potato gratin is amazing

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

succulents

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

coffee from a gas station specifically sheetz

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

oh god my school photo. my license photo i look like i WILL kill the photographer

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

jewel tones

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

i use both interchangeably

82. pc or console?

i play internet games which is as far as i got with gaming. although i do really want a game cube so i can play monkeyball

83. writing or drawing?

writing

84. podcasts or talk radio?

podcasts

84. barbie or polly pocket?

i have 2 pollypockets still and i refuse to give them up

85. fairy tales or mythology?

mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

i really don’t like the dark lmao

88. your greatest wish?

mmmm i’m honestly not sure

89. who would you put before everyone else?

barack obama

90. luckiest mistake?

not checking the weekend of my brother getting married and lucking out that i bought concert tickets for the weekend before

91. boxes or bags?

bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

fairy lights

93. nicknames?

libby, libs, libster, “ms. teaguerson” is one i’ve gotten from a couple of kids i’ve subbed for, any version of elizabeth at this point.

94. favorite season?

fall

95. favorite app on your phone?

i just downloaded a crosswords app and it’s fantastic

96. desktop background?

the sky being absolutely BLACK during an afternoon storm right before a big event at camp

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

i think 8

98. favorite historical era?

i really love the clothes of the 40′s

#ask #about me #nonnienonnienonnie

0 notes

oblivion-time · 7 years

Text

Death Child ch 3

Uggggh, it has gone waaaaaay too long since I updated this fic considering I have the finished story in my docs and it just needed some editing! Now when it's exam time at school, why not take a break and edit this baby and get this one finished as soon as possibly (even though there are around two chapters more to come). I hope you enjoy this chapter!

You can read the full version at AO3 or ff.net

Death child

Chapter 3

"Left!" Wes screamed into Soul's ear. Soul pumped his arms to run faster, quickly leapt toward the left. The green masked supernatural cop attacked but missed, still close on his tail. The other five cops were still out of sight, preparing a trap to catch him.

"It's not working!" Soul stressfully screamed into the microphone. He jumped over to a house across the street and the green masked cop followed once again. They had started learning about his patterns. This wasn't good.

"I told you didn't have to steal a freaking suit!" Wes hissed. "Duck!" Soul slid under a large pipe. The masked person jumped over it.

"Will you just drop it? Haven't you noticed we're being chased by the supernatural police force?"

"Drop it? You keep putting yourself in danger for material things!" he hissed. "And why did you have to steal a new suit when you had one in the boxes!"

Soul rolled his head back into his skull. It wasn't like he could wear his dusty old suit for his date with Maka Albarn. She was a law student. The daughter of the headmaster's secretary. She was going to be phenomenal in whatever she wore, heck, she could wear a trash bag and still look beautiful! He couldn't look mediocre. For once, he'd to bring out his inner Evans and woo her. And convincing her he was boyfriend material wouldn't be easy. After all, he was a scum. The gum under a shoe―

"Jump!" Swiftly he jumped up in the air as a chain the blue masked cop swiped over the floor. Wes cursed loudly and a moment later the thick boot of the green masked cop planted in his back. He went soaring through the air, crashing through the ceiling and roughly landed on the floor. Dust floated in the air and moonlight leaked through the hole in the ceiling.

"Fuck!" Pain shot up from his back as he sat up on the white and black checkered floor.

"Are you okay?" Wes asked with concern in his voice. "You gotta get moving."

He'd certainly been better, and if it weren't for the odd natural laws in this realm, he would've been dead. A moment later two thuds echoed in the kitchen and the moonlight revealed two silhouettes.

"Don't. Make a noise." Wes whispered in his ear.

He didn't dare to even move a muscle. The head of the one silhouette on the right looked toward the other one. The silhouettes lips moved but the words were drowned out by a blood lusting roar in the distance. He stiffened and so did the supernatural cops.

"Let's get out of here. We can catch him the next time." He didn't know what terrified him the most. The loud roars in the distance or the spine-freezing familiarity to the high-pitched voice of the male. He had heard that voice somewhere. He knew he'd heard it somewhere outside the realm. His eyes stayed glued to the voice of the male as they jumped up through the hole in the ceiling, disappearing.

"Let's get the hell away from here before those monsters get their hands on you." Soul couldn't quite let go. He had heard that voice from somewhere. He stood up and kept his hand on his lower back where pain throbbed excruciatingly. Damn, that cop sure had a wicked roundhouse kick. He just needed to walk off the pain. He jumped up through the hole in the roof. The ground shook from the heavy footsteps of the creature rushed toward his direction. He jumped down the last steps of the fire escape and switched back to the normal world. The sound of cars and the hurried footsteps of workers hastening toward home to enjoy the weekend appeared around him as if someone turned up the volume.

"That was close." Soul sighed with relief as his thumb massaged the hurting spot. "That was far too close."

"You happy now?" Soul leaned against the iron railing of the fire-escape and he fished up his broken phone. Wes glared at him with his eyebrows narrowed and his arms crossed as he many times did while he scolded him.

"Don't start. You know I only did what I had to do. Besides, that dude—"

"You don't have to do anything. No one is forcing you."

"Wes, that dude, I know I've met him before."

Wes's long lashes fluttered and his arms loosened over his tattered and bloody suit. Heavy silence fell between them as Wes processed his words carefully. "… What?"

"I recognized his voice. I don't know from where, but I've this feeling…" The high-pitched voice of the man echoed in his mind and the familiarity of it created goose bumps on his arms. "… I know I've heard that voice before. Outside of that realm. I just know it."

"You sure?"

Soul nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Hundred-ten percent sure?" Wes persisted.

"Yes." Soul said without hesitation.

"Dude, this is bad news. If you've met that person before… it means they can get to you outside of the realm." Wes's eyes stayed wide at the realization, taking in the new piece of information. If he'd met the guy in real life… so were the others. They were also looking for him outside in the real world.

Oh shit.

"Wes―"

"You gotta go back to L.A."

"What?" Soul spat out surprised. "I don't want to go back!"

"Dude, if some supernatural beings are chasing you in this world too, you gotta go before they find you. You'll be safe there."

"Safe?" He straightened his back and started to head out of the alley. "I'm as safe here as I am there. At least I've still a roof over my head here and―" Maka. He had Maka. He had someone he could rest his head on her strong thighs and close his eyes, feeling a little less lonely with. She made him forget for a moment about his shitty life. For once, lying on his futon bare and breathing heavily as he held on to Maka, he felt good. He felt as if there was someone out there beside his brother who wanted him. If he went back to L.A… there wasn't anything there for him but the resurfacing painful memories he struggled with to forget. "… I can't go back."

Frustratingly Wes ran his hands through his hair and muttered inaudibly. He buried his face in his hands as Soul went down the streets.

Now when he had his suit, he needed some flowers or chocolate for Maka, or maybe both. With all the romance books she read and the preppy guys who asked her out, if he gave her flowers and chocolates, she had to get the hint he was interested in a relationship with her. Maybe… maybe he could show her he could be good. Just as good as the good guys he knew asked Maka out. Maybe not as good but he would try.

He didn't know what was worse. Wes fiddling in frustration and sighing and moaning in annoyance at the situation, or the fact if he didn't hurry up, Maka would most likely catch him in the shower than in his suit. If he stopped at the supermarket near his work, then went to his bike, he could m―

Soul came to a halt when shiny black caught his attention. He came face-to-face with a shopping window for a firearm store. Wooden shelves displayed various handguns, assault rifles and shotguns. None of the guns grabbed his attention but the four various sizes and designs of stunguns.

Today was a close call with the people chasing him. If it weren't for the monsters lurking in the other realm, he would've been caught. They had stepped up their game and even with Wes on his side to help him, they had started learning to work together efficiently. He needed to protect himself if they ever got that close to him again.

"You can't be serious?" Wes's voice rung in his ears. "A gun? Haven't you had enough of them?"

Guns? Oh yeah. He placed his hand over his chest where the large and hideous scar laid hidden beneath his black hoodie. He didn't want to hurt anybody. Guns had already hurt people who he loved and he didn't want to do that to somebody else.

"The stungun." Soul nodded toward a particular one meant for close assault. One shock to the neck and they would be unconscious. "I couldn't harm someone that badly with one."

"A stungun is better than a gun. The question is: with what money are you going to buy it with?" The silence spoke volumes to Wes and he hissed loudly. "Soul! No! We've already had a close encounter today! This should've taught you to stop stealing in some other dimension!"

"What else am I going to do? You know I can't shell out the money for it."

"Sell that deathtrap of yours! Get rid of the second storage room. Tell Maka you can't eat Chinese every other day. There are plenty of options, little brother." He had a point. There existed ways for him to save up money for all the things he had stolen, but the material things he needed to give to Maka always forced him to steal. The cost of impressing Maka was worth the risk.

But this thing wasn't for Maka. It was entirely for him. It would be the first time he put himself on the line for himself. With the stungun, he could effectively protect himself and keep up his criminal behaviour in the other dimension.

"Weren't you in a hurry?"

"Oh! Right." Soul jogged toward the supermarket. As he caught sight of the red sign he pulled up his hoodie over his head to cover his striking hair. The doors automatically opened and he started his usual routine, checking out where the security cameras where at and finding a blind spot to jump to the other world at. A smirk grew on his face when he found a large heart-shaped box full with expensive handmade chocolates from Belgium. Only the best for the best. Lucky him he didn't need to p―

"Soul?" He froze at the sound of his name spoken from the far too familiar voice. "Soul Evans? Is that really you?" Heels echoed far too loudly as he slowly turned his head, finding Anya strolling over to him. "It really is you. I knew there could only be one person with that strange white hair." she breathed heavy and her hair was messy from the wind as if she'd run after him as soon as she spotted him.

"Well, do you look at that? Never expected you to run into her." Wes snickered.

"What the hell are you doing in Death City?" Soul questioned.

"I'm here attending some businesses on behalf of my father's company."

Her father owned a motion picture company where commercials, movies and other motion picture products were made. His parents and Anya's father used to be close friends and they worked together a lot. Beside creating their own music and recording different bands' music, they also created desired music for Anya's father's company.

Silence stretched between them as Anya pushed a lock of golden blonde hair behind her ear. "I've been looking for you." Anya broke the silence. "After… the down spiral." Down spiral was putting it gently.

"I didn't want to be found." he confessed.

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "It wasn't that bad to make you disappear."

"What do you want?" Soul spat. "You found me. Now say what you gotta say. I've got some place to be at."

Her eyes flickered to the large box of chocolate in his hands. "A date?" The silence gave her all the information she needed and a smirk grew on her face. "What's her name?"

His lips tensed and his grip on the chocolate box tightened "It's not a date."

She cocked her eyebrow and gazed at his white knuckles. "Last time I checked, if it's not a date, you don't need to buy chocolates."

"It's not a date." he repeated. "But I want it to be."

"So tell me about this girl. Is she cute?"

Soul opened his mouth and he halted. "I don't have time for this. I gotta get ready."

Anya grabbed his arm when he was about to walk away. "You can get ready at my place. Then we have more time to catch up."

Catch up? What was there to catch up on? He had no ties with L.A and the people he left behind. He had moved on from that life and he had no interest in it.

"You can't seriously think about rejecting her offer?" Wes spoke up. "Think about it, we could get some info about father's company. You could take back Evans Corporation." Evans Corporation? It didn't exist anymore. Not since the accident more than a year ago.

The day his parents died and the only son's name on the will had disappeared along with them, there was no way he could win a court case against his father's partner who had powered up with multiple prestigious lawyers. He had no connections to the company. That's why his father didn't include his name on the will. He knew his father would be furious knowing their luxurious mansion and the wealth he had on his bank account went into his pocket.

He didn't give a rat's ass about the company, but Wes did. When everything was… normal. Wes enjoyed going to work at Evans Corporation, creating music and learning right beside their father how to run the company so he could one day take over.

"Sure." he spoke as he exhaled. "Why not. But I can't stay for too long."

Her face lit up and she nodded "Absolutely!" She grabbed the chocolate from his hands. "I'll buy these for you." Elegantly she went passed him, if he hadn't known her since they wore diapers, he wouldn't have detected the slight skip in her steps.

He allowed her to buy the chocolate and a bouquet of white roses for him and they exited the store. A long polished limo stood sloppily parked on the curb and the chauffer gazed in the rear view mirror, fixing his hat on his head. An amused grin spread on his face. Calm and collected Anya Hepburn just had to stop the limo, eh?

…

You can read the full version at AO3 or ff.net

#Oblivion-Time writes #soulxmaka #death child #Soul Eater

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the-odd-one-in-space · 6 years

Text

AnotherTale #8 pt 1

Warning!!!! This blog contains spoilers to the game UnderTale!

Nightmares, that term doesn’t even begin to describe the torment i went though in those next few months. Nightmare’s of Wing Ding , Chara & Asriel, The human children, The human in yellow. These things haunted me in my sleep, and even in real life. Outta the corner of my eye I kept seeing them and hearing their voices in whispers around me. I couldn’t get the thoughts of them outta my head. Normally i don’t have a problem with these hard memories but after I carefully placed my scythe into the back of that human, my mind was a wreck. I tried to find something to be happy about, anything, but nothing was helping. I spent my days alone looking for any reason to smile but whenever i thought i could, I heard it in my head “Remember me,friend?” Over and over again i heard that line, making my already dead heart sink lower like a never ending black hole of madness and suffering.

I at some point found out about the new royal scientist Asgore hired, one of Wing Ding’s old assistants who hadn’t been at the core…... I knew Asgore had no idea who Wing Ding was ,thanks to me, so it didn’t bug me too much that he put me in charge of overseeing her projects on trying to look into the power of human souls. I was promised I was chosen at random and i wasn’t going to be studied at all, which held true with my time with the little dino girl. She was an interesting thing. She like LOVED these human cartoons called anime. I normally never watched tv, even monster shows but AL got me so into watching some of these literal garbage shows. She was also really nice about helping me with my loose stitches , she even gave me something to help with my dead body smell. She ended up being a good person to be friends with. Still didn’t help my madness.

Asgore also put me in charge of helping monsters who lost family because of the 6th human. One was a little girl with more spirit and pride then any kid I’ve ever met in years. She had her head held high at her parents funeral service. She was the strongest kid I’d ever seen and she only about 20 something back then. She even did the darndest thing I’d seen in years. Shehad tried to beat up Asgore as a kid. She failed but Asgore offered her training and she took it in a heartbeat. She was and still is a crazy insane girl who always puts me in awesome positions. I was still miserable after meeting her.

AL’s little box robot had become quite famous around the underground, they were bringing a lot of joy to the underground and I even had the honour of being put as his bodyguard for most of his met and gerats. Even his fabulous attitude couldn’t make me smile.

There was this spider monster in hotland that had a little shop. I passed by and she asked I’d like a sample of her one of her foods. I had no reason to say no, so of course I said yes. She then said I owed her 9999 gold as a huge freaking cupcake monster showed up behind her. I then told her I didn’t have any money and even emptied my pockets. She then asked how much my scythe was, I lost my sense of fear as I look her dead in all 8 of her eyes and told her no. She could see I was too attached to make that kind of trade so she made me one little offer “There is One little thing you could do ahuhu”, and so I started bringing little spiders from the ruins to hotland. I did it once a year every time I went to see Chara. Even doing really nice things for those cute little spiders, didn’t make me feel any better.

One day though, a lot of things changed in the best way possible. I found this old little picture of myself in chara’s old room, I went there because it was the 86th year she’d been gone. It was the first picture of myself that chara spent a year saving up for it to give it to me while we were in the underground. Seeing it didn’t help me at all with my problems so I did the one thing I always did to forget my issues. Go to Grillby’s and get hammered. I got a little too drunk and only remember walking around for a while in snowdin not really paying any attention to where I was walking. I took notice of the fact that the snow was coming down really hard all of a sudden. I then look down from the roof of the cave, to my surroundings and noticed I’ve never been in this area of snowdin. I looked around some more and saw a girl. A human girl.

I would’ve acted more surprised in the moment if I had been a little more sober. The girl then proceed to walk up to walk up to me asking if I was ok. I was able to see her more clearly. She had chocolate brown hair, one green eye, one red, and had semi dark skin. She was wearing a sorta dark green jacket, bright jeans and snow boots. Then me being drunk and dumb, i fell over onto the girl as I almost blacked out. I felt myself wake up a bit as the vodka started to already wear off(That’s my favorite drink by the way). I got up first and helped the girl, after which she grabbed my arm and dragged me to a house I’d never seen.”Here come on, I can’t leave you out here to freeze to death” She lead me inside to the couch and I fell face down into the cushions. I heard her go up the stairs saying she was gonna grab me clothes.

While she was gone I shook my head, feeling the vodka completely losing it’s effect on me. Looking at my arm I saw my left sleeve was torn, most likely from my dumb a&$ walking into trees. That’s probably why she went upstairs to grab me clothes. I looked around and saw how the house was mostly light with candles and a fireplace. Whoever this girl was she wasn’t worrying about any light bills. The whole place was wood too, which made me slightly worried. I then began to wonder how the hell another human was here and seemed to be living here peacefully. I was put a little at ease as I guessed that if this person was as dangerous as the last one she would've just let me outside to freeze to death. Then again the last one thought I was human and didn’t try to shoot me till I prove otherwise. After a bit I heard the wood creak from the stairs and saw the girl carrying down a pile of clothes.

“Need help?”

“I thought you were drunk? And I’m fine” she said placing the clothes down next to me. “Heh yeah… My body gets rid of the effects of alcohol pretty quickly”, Yeah that’s unfortunately true. That is totally not why I have a bit of an alcohol problem. I looked around a bit, feeling a little awkward. “Nice place you got here, what’s your name?” Me and her eyes met.”Scar. What’s yours?” “Mas. Um…. sorry for being such a bother. I can go home now if you want” She looked outside through the window seeing how dark it was and how much snow was coming down.

“Not in this storm.Wouldn’t want to freeze to death would we?” She said smiling to me. “No, I guess not.” …… Had I met this girl? Something felt familiar to me.. And I wouldn’t really freeze to death either.My body would at worst get a little frozen but it wouldn’t kill me. “Here” She held out the clothes for me to grab. “I told you my friends left them here. I assure you I’m a female. My friends bought jeans from the wrong side of the store, guess she can’t shop.” I guess I missed her say that first part but I wasn’t agsnist the idea of wearing some new clothes.

“Huh… well then. Thanks. Where’s the bathroom?” She pointed me to a hall “There it is. You may wanna turn on the heater. It gets a little cold in there.” I nodded, making my way into the bathroom and closed the door gently. I got changed but when I looked into the mirror , I noticed something familiar was written on the shirt Scar had given me. It was all black, made of wool, but there was a odd font on the front saying “Cool dude”. “So whoever this girl is… she knows papy,sans’s brother, And maybe undying. She’s the only one I know who wouldn’t be able see guy’s clothes apart from girl’s. Huh… maybe she’s been here for a while.. She’s also kinda-”

“She’s what Mas?” I wheeled around to see something dark move just out of my sight. More of those god damn hunting shadows…this one sounded like...Chara. I flipped on the heater which thankfully made a good deal of noise. I looked into the mirror, turned on the sink, and began to splash water in my face. After a minute or two I regained my composer, put on a straight face and walked out of the bathroom. I heard Scar chuckled at me when she saw me wearing the shirt. I felt a bit of heat on my face which I assumed was the magic in my body forcing me to blush. I guess I forgot I was wearing this shirt. Scar giggled more as she saw me blush. Why did I find her laugh really….. Cute?

Scar composed herself and walked up to me talking the clothes outta my hands. She then motioned for me to sit again so I did. She walked out of the room coming back a little bit later with a sewing needle and string. She sat down next to me and just started fixing up my flannel. While she spent a few minutes sewing I noticed her left hand had an odd shape to it, only three long fingers. I didn’t want to pry but after a few more minutes of nothing but flame crackling and the sound of wind hitting the windows I grew aninoix. “So Scar… What kind of monster are you? You look like a normal human girl..” I decided it be better not to mention the odd hand. She almost looked like she wanted to jump when I spoke. Guess she got pretty into her sewing.

“Oh… you know the tales of the phoenix?”

“Oh yeah!” I let my hours and hours(more like years and years) of reading old books in the underground out for the first time in a while. “Wasn’t it this huge bird monster that was super dangerous?” I finished nerding out waiting for her response. “.... We aren’t THAT bad..” I felt guilt slide up my back. “What?”

Her eyes widened as if she didn’t know what she just said. “Well… I guess I might as well tell you.” She put down my clothes onto the coffee table in front of me.

“I was a normal human girl, and I fought in the human-monster war. I’d always been feared as a brave and strong warrior, until a phoenix bite me in battle.”

The phoenix was sain and we won the war soon after. I survived but A phoenix can only exist at once, and the next is decided on by shared DNA.”

“The DNA is always shared on another monster, whether it be an accident or not. The monster will turn into a Phoenix over the course of the next few years.” Scar’s hands were starting to shake. “5 years, which for you would had been the second human falling into the underground, the changes that had occur were obviously there.”

I’d tried to hide my… problems, but I couldn’t keep it hidden forever. I was soon beaten and abused because of my appearance. People thought I would kill everyone , though they knew I wouldn’t. Everyday I went to the top of Ebbot and considered jumping, ending it all. I never did, thinking- hoping things would change.” I was about to say she didn’t have to go on, but before I could i saw she was crying. She wiped her tears and slammed her fist on the table, letting out a choked sob.

“But it never did! They found me one day standing at the edge one day, and I had one way to go. I didn’t care if I died, if I was forgotten… But I lived.” I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. “Tori and asgore had found me and accepted me. After the 4th human fell, tori left. I never heard anymore stories about their kids, their childhoods.” Right, troiel was gone. She left asgore disappearing from the underground. She’s been hiding in the old ruins behind snowdin but no one but me and some ghost knew about it.

I was getting a little pissed at this point of her story. So after all this damn time Asgore knew about another human and never told me. I settled down my anger as Scar continued. “They both said in some ways I reminded them of the human child, Chara.” I felt my already dead heart drop. “I never got to ask what I had in similarity to them though…” I could see it. They both had that feeling around them. The feeling that this person who although has been thought so much, would love whoever loved them. I got a little closer to her placing my hand on her back. She wiped more tears off her face and looked at me.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to have that outburst. My emotions have always been somewhat unstable.” I wasn’t going to let her blame that on herself. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t had asked. I’m the one who should be saying sorry. Not you” I said to her keeping my eyes locked with her’s.

She looked at me surprised. “It’s fine,really! I don’t know why that happened….”

We broke our gaze at each other and sat in silence a little longer. I figured…. she told me her life story. Might as well share. “You know, I started out human too.”

She looked up at me smiling. “I never would have guessed!”. We both laughed a little before I continued. “I fell in with that human, chara. They were my… friend. I tried to follow them when they jumped down here but the chain I was using to climb down with wrapped around my neck. Yeah…. I died. My body was found by Dr. Wing Dings Gaster”

Flashes of him falling into core went through my head. I stuttered a little and took a deep breath. “He brought me back with magic and.. some other things I can’t talk about. He took me apart while experimenting on me. That’s why I have all these stitches.” I held up my right arm and pointed to my face. “I originally had blackish brown hair and green eyes. As you can tell…. that’s changed.” I put my hands in my pockets and my head down.

I don’t think i’ve ever talked to someone about that. Huh… guess I trusted this girl for some reason. Don’t know why I mentioned Gaster , not like she would know who that is anyway. Even if she could had met him before he fell into the core, she wouldn’t be able to remember him. She looked at me and put her hand on my back. “Wow.... I’m sorry. I-I um.. I didn’t want to bring up something that would upset you. I decided to end that topic and waved my hand keeping things quite a bit longer. While in the silence she finished fixing up my clothes. Even fixed a few of the other poorly fix holes I had tried to fix myself. At this point I was getting bored and a little ansty. Before I could mention it, scar beat me to it. “looks like the storm isn’t going to clear up for awhile. What do you wanna do?” I looked at her shrugging.

Then I had a idea. A dumb one, but I was willing to take anything. “You wouldn’t happen to have somewhere to train… would you?” She smiled. “Why would you wanna know?” I stood up, held my hand out in front of me and my scythe appeared in my hands. I’d after all these years have gotten quite used to summoning my scythe with magic instead of having to carry it around with me. “Nice. A scythe I’m assuming?” I grinned and noded. “I’ve had it for a long time. Thankfully I can just summon it at will.” Scar held up her hand. “That seems pretty useful. My fire magic just lives within me.” Scar Seemed to zone out for a second but before I could ask what was wrong she stood up and had me follow her down a hallway which went from being made of light brown wood to dark grey stone. At the end there was a large stone brick door. I could barely see anything. I was about to make my eyes glow but scar’s hand seemed to light on fire, lighting up most of the hallway before opening the door with another. She then reached inside the room, put her hands on the walls and touches lite up one by one before the whole room was lighten up.

I’d seen fire magic before, most of it being thrown at my face, but seeing that still made my face go into awestruck. Then I asked a dumb question. “Why not just use electricity? Wouldn’t that be easier?”. She laughed a little, “And get a bill for something I provide for myself? No thanks. I prefer to make my own light.” Then I asked another dumb question. “Well can’t your house set on fire?”

She looked at me with a mischievous smile on her face as fire appeared in her hand. “Wait you don’t have to demon-” She threw the fire at my chest but it didn’t stick to me or even burn me. For the first time in years I felt heat in my chest as the fire went through my chest, not leaving any burn mark, and hit the wall behind me.” -Strate… How?!” I screamed then went on a little bit of a spanish cursing spire, mean while Scar was laughing so hard she almost fell to the floor. After we both calmed down Scar held a big proud smirk on her face.

“One of the few perks of my condition. I can choose whether or not my fire has any effect on any objects it touches. I nodded, still a little freaked up by that. “That’s pretty neat… I don’t really have that many tricks.” I lifted my scythe for an example. “I have one other ability, but it’s kind of messed up…” Out of the ground one by one little bits of light formed. Each bit of light turned into a link of a chain until the chain was connected from the floor to ceiling. Scar seemed to get what I meant. “So.. You can summon the chain that-” “That killed me? Yeah…”. I pulled on the chain and it broke into little metal pieces, falling to the ground then disappearing. After some more awkward time not looking at each other I finally suggested something then regretted it . “How about some dodge pratice?”

“WHY DID I ASKED THAT?!” I screamed within my thoughts. I was awful at dodging. For some little facts about me, monsters can’t do that much damage to me, on account of my HP(Health points) being 130. My Def (Defense against attacks) against most monsters tend to be something like 13, humans tend to be 130. Highest my attack can be is 1300 against monsters but for humans it’s highest can be 13. I don’t know why it’s different for humans and monsters but I know for sure that I’m the wrost at dodging. I can dodge unlike most monsters I know but it’s hard to do for me. I freeze up whenever I try and almost always end up getting hit. If my HP is close to zero it’s easier to push through to do it but it’s still not easy. I’ve had a lot of close calls, I was probably about to have a few more.

Scar didn’t seem opposed to the idea and approached me. The room turned black and white and in my vision I saw a white box with my soul in it. After much practice, and by that I mean running for my life, I learn what that little box does. It’s show’s me in sinyce with my own movements and the attacks of my opponents. It comes in handy but not enough to improve my dodging skills. I see Scar standing on the other side of the box as her left hand lights up with white flames. She throws a few balls of white hot flames that passed by me on my left with me even moving. “Alright…. she’s doing things easy first.”

I think to myself. My turn.

I see four yellow text boxes in front of me under the white box saying “scar is waiting for your move.”. These boxes said Fight, Act, Item, and Mercy. I picked the Fight option and another set of options is presented to me. Swing, chains, change. These are the options on which attacks I use. Swing being how much power I want to put into using my scythe, chains which I use mostly to whip people or to chain them up, and charge being how much power and magic I want to use with Chas, my Blaster. I choose to go easy at first as well and pick swing.

I don’t swing with my full force but just enough to almost crack the ground where scar was standing before she dodged the strike. I’m given the chance to make another swing at Scar but don’t and let her have her turn.

We go on like this for a while, probably an hour before scar seems to be outta breath and I’m acting as though I’m tired as well. I was about suggest a mercy but before I could scar started her turn and threw a larger ball of fire at me then she had the whole fight. I was about to avoid it by going left but it seemed to be locked onto me hit me full force on my right. It burned through the jeans and shirt Scar gave me and sent me slamming against the wall and knocking my glasses off and my scythe fell outta my hand as I fell to the ground.

I looked back at scar who was breathing even heavier, her left eye was glowing a deep dark orange and was staring at me with such anger. I stood back up grabbing scythe and standing in a better battle stance. We were still in the battle and it was my turn. My HP had gone down by 15 points, 115 was left. I was about to hit the fight button without thinking about but stopped my hand. “She hit you. Hit. Her. Back.”, I heard the voices say. So many of them demanding me to take action. I wouldn’t do it, I couldn’t.

I don’t know why, but something about this girl told me she wasn’t her. Her face wasn’t the same, she didn’t have the same kind face as before. I pressed the ACT button and choose the option to talk. “Scar? Are you there? It’s me mas. The guy you just met.”, I said to her in the most calming voice I could do. It was her turn, her lite up with large balls of fire and her face was wild with anger and rage. She was about to throw them both at me ,but stop.

Her face changed from that of rage and malice to that of fear and guilt. Her left went back to “normal” and she fell back. Her hands were shaking as she hugged herself. White text in front of Scar said she’s showing me mercy. I did the same and world returned to colors of the grey walls and orange lights. I walked up to Scar, making my scythe disappear as I stood in front of her. She started crying as I could hear mumbling something.

“I-I’m so sorry….. I’m so sorry.”,she through her tears. I sat down next to her. “It’s ok, it’s ok.” I understood what happened. The “phoenix” within her may had done something to take her over. I knew what that was like. She hugged me while she was still crying and sobbing. I got shocked for a second but instead of letting myself get flustered I hugged her back. We just stayed like that for a while, me hugging her while she was shaking.

After what could had been hours, Scar looked at my right arm and leg. “ Oh my god, Mas your- your..”, she let go of me and I did the same. She got up grabbed my arm pulling me up as well and taking me back to the living room. She went into a closet next to the fire place and took out a small medkit and went back to me in a panic. She started to clean my wounds not looking at me and afterwards wrapped my burns. She looked at me as she tied the bandage around my burns.

“Sorry…..” , She loosened the bandage on my arm. “Oh… No it’s fine. Didn’t feel a thing”, Which is actually true. She looked at me, her face filled with surprize and nodded. “I see….”, she looked back down and started putting her medkit back up and got up to put it back in the closest. I couldn’t let things stay this awkward and quiet. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that right?”, she stopped. “I get what having something in your head that makes you do things that… you regret. The important thing is you make sure to make up for the things you regret by fixing them… so don’t worry.”

She looked back at me, her eyes sad. “.... thank you…”, she went to the closest and put her mid kit away and stayed there, standing looking at the wall. “That hasn’t happened in a long time… I’m so sorry.”, she said her voice sounding shaky. “I don’t know why that just starts happening…” she starts shaking along with her voice. “Maybe those people were right to say I was just a freak…I’m just a fre-.” I ran up behind her and sat my hand on her shoulder. She froze.

“Stop it. You’re not a freak, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. EVER. You brought some drunk guy inside because a snowstorm was coming in. You then fixed my clothes after giving me some to change into, then let me talk about something I haven’t talked about in YEARS. And ya know what else? I honestly haven’t had this much fun with another human in like, 80 years. So before you wanna call yourself a freak.”, I let go of scar and she faces me ,her eyes hidden by her hair. “I’m a 93 year old guy who has been alone and depressed for 80 years and has been called a creep, a mistake, a let down.”, I felt my eyes water, “a disappointment, unreliable, weak, inhuman…… and that was before I became a monster”, I’m crying at this point and scar is looking up at me with her eyes widen.

“....guess we’re not that different huh?”,she puts her hand on my shoulder, looking at me with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. I wipe my eyes and smile back, “haha…. yep….”.

#oc au #anothertale #undertale oc #undertale fanfiction #mas #scar

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