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hello! i was wondering if you knew about a fic! it was sope and i remember yoongi & hobi being connected? like they were able to switch bodies or were like soulmates,,, yoongi was a architect and lived close to a beach, and hoseok’s dad was like powerful and mysterious? hoseok had tattoos and his family was really rich. i know that’s barely anything to go off of but yea ! i’ve never been able to find it

Hey there - I think the fic you’re looking for is Under the Same Sky by Lastwhalien

Rating: Not rated

Status: Complete

Word count: 245,361

Summary: "The sky he wakes up to is not his sky.“

One night ends as another begins.

Yoongi and Hoseok are half a world a way, living very different lives and yet they are intertwined when they begin to share their senses, irreversibly connecting their worlds.

Hoseok is the son of Durumi, not just a criminal empire but the empire, it is the machine that turns the world, manipulating money, world leaders, crime, and the rise and fall of power. He’s good at his job, he was born for it, raised for it, but a coup has given his father the perfect chance to remove Hoseok from power, trapped in his apartment he’s restlessly waiting.

Yoongi has escaped his past carrying the guilt of his mistakes he has rebuilt his life near the sea where he works on recreating the world as best he can, His life is calm, removed from the chaos it once held, but it still follows; a name he can never have, a family he can never truly be a part of.

One day they start to share their worlds, to see, to hear, to touch, to smell, to taste, to be two souls, two bodies, bound.

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Based on the “Virgil can stop someone from breathing” that’s been showing up recently. TW for choking, panic, violence I geuss.

“Shut up!” Virgil snapped, arms flying forward towards Roman.

He gasped, grabbing his throat as tried desperately to get air.

“Virgil, what are you doing?!?” Thomas asked, his voice filled with panic.

Virgil dropped his arm, staring in horror as Patton and Logan rushed to a panting Roman.

He sunk out before they had a chance to do anything to him.

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can i be undone?
by lanestreets

“Why can’t I do those things? What’s wrong with them?”

Hawks sighs, and pushes his hair back out of his face. “It’s not that they’re wrong, they’re just different, and that’s wrong. The more you’re different, the more reason people have to distrust you, yeah? And if people distrust you, how can you be a hero? I want you to be safe, and not have to deal with all that scrutiny.”

Hawks was really only trying to help Tokoyami. He never meant for it to go so far sideways.

Words: 7118, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Read Here:

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Alone; again

This is my first jump into this fandom. I’ve seen the show and played like ten minutes of the games. I used that limited info and the few things I’ve gathered online, so forgive anything wrong.

My first witcher story and it’s angst. Sorrynotsorry.


Geralt swings, blade meeting blade with a resounding crash. His eyes narrow and he swings his sword and knocks the other man… No, the humanoid creature was definitely not human, back. His opponent stumbles, nearly tripping over one of his fallen comrades. Geralt sees him pull a knife from his hip and in desperation, throw it at the Witcher. He dodges it easily, his overstimulated senses almost missing the pained gasp from behind him. They don’t, however, miss the quiet, fear-laced, and nearly inaudible gurgle of, 


He wasn’t supposed to be here! He was supposed to stay with Roach, keep her safe! Geralt slams the sword straight through the other’s weakened attempt at defense and straight through his throat. He pulls it out and turns, his expression falling slightly. Jaskier stands behind him, holding himself up using the large tree beside him. From the base of his neck shines the very blade  that Geralt had dodged moments before. The silver dagger embedded to its hilt, a bloom of red staining the sky blue fabric the bard wears. He has an expression of shock on his face, eyes wide and staring at nothing. One hand rests on the hilt if the dagger, as if to remove it but he wasn’t gripping it, just holding his hand on it. 

“No…” Geralt manages. 

Jaskier meets eyes with Geralt for just a second before his legs give out and he collapses. Geralt is just fast enough to cradle his head from hitting the forest floor, hitting the ground on his knees to do so. 

“Jaskier! You idiot!” Geralt nearly snarls, too many of the emotions he swears he doesn’t have bubbling to the surface. Anger, fear, guilt, and something just below them all that he doesn’t have the mind to place. Jaskier, for his part, physically flinches away at the words. 

He makes a sound, possibly something akin to an apology but impossible to decipher through the blood filling his throat and lungs. 

“Don’t talk!” Geralt snaps, his guilt blooming as anger in his voice. “I don’t have anything left safe for you to drink. We need a healer.” He says and makes to stand with Jaskier in his arms, looking away for only a moment. In the distance he can faintly make out the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Roach is on her way, galloping as if she knows she’s needed. He gets no farther than his knees before he’s stopped. The pained gasp and desperate hand clawing at his chest and neck freeze him immediately. He glances down and sees Jaskier with wide eyes and terror in his face. The bard shakes his head but truth be told doesn’t seem to see anything before him. He isn’t focused on Geralt, rather something just beyond the Witcher’s left shoulder.  His other hand is now clawing at the knife, body seizing. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt said, attempting to reign his tone in. “Jaskier!” He captures the hand clawing at the knife and pulls it away, to his chest, trapping the bard’s other hand with it. He doesn’t glance up but hears Roach slow to a stop at his and Jaskier’s side. She whinny’s nervously and tosses her mane when neither man acknowledges her, Geralt can see her from the corner of his eye.

Jaskier doesn’t stop, only struggling harder to pull his hands back. He gasps like a fish out of water, crimson blood running past his lips. Beneath the rivulets, Geralt can see they are quickly turning blue. 

The Witcher can feel his chest tighten when Jaskier stops trying to pull his hands away, stops seizing. 

“Jaskier! Hold on…” Geralt says, unable to hide how his voice shakes, how his body trembled. 

Geralt swears the bard tries to speak his name, tries to say it with no breath or sound available to him. Jaskier’s unfocused eyes try to move to Geralt, try to catch his gaze. Cornflowers meet honey and Jaskier calms, goes limp.  He doesn’t move again after that, his eyes glaze over and the color dulls. 

Geralt feels an overwhelming pain explode in his chest and he does the only thing he can do. He cannot cry, they robbed him of that already, so he screams. The forest shakes with the sound but Jaskier doesn’t stir, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t breathe. Just like he feared, Geralt is alone; again. 

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(Something I might be working on in the future)

Apollo couldn’t stop staring at the paper in his shaking hands with wide eyes. There was no way this was real, no way this is what happened. There was no way this was the truth. He felt like crying, breaking down and sobbing until he passed out. Then at least he could pretend this wasn’t actually happening.

But he couldn’t, Apollo couldn’t let himself be lost in despair. Not when someone he loved cared about was in trouble. Not when there was still a reason to search for the truth. No matter how painful. Mr. Wright had said that the only time a lawyer can cry was once it was all over. And Apollo planned on crying a lot once this was all said and done.

The defense attorney shoved his phone into his pocket and rushed around his apartment for his badge. He didn’t bother to get changed into his usual suit, it would take too long and he needed to get down to the detention center last week. As he rushed out the door, Apollo took one last glance at the abandoned paper sitting on the table, in bold black letters, the headline reading:

“Rockstar Klavier Gavin Attempts to Flee the Country After Killing His Brother”

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It was dark, so very dark. She was glancing around, looking for the slightest sign of light. Her eyes red from crying, her voice weak from screaming.

“Hel- Hello?” She calls out into the abyss, her words strained and voice barely above a whisper.

She heard nothing, not even an echo. Nothing. It’s all she ever felt, now it’s all she ever hears. She could tap her foot, clap her hands, even scream, but all she heard was her voice. Never an echo or a reply. She would spend countless hours screaming and crying just to hear one echo, but it never came. She didn’t know why or how, hell she didn’t have a clue about where she was.

All she knew was it was lonely and dark. It was like the closet she hid in as a child, lonely and dark. She loved the loneliness and darkness of the closet when she were little, but now it was frightening.

Frightening because she knew that no one was going to open the door and say, “I found you!” No one was ever going to notice she was hiding, and she would be stuck for forever. She knew that emptiness would always follow her around, and yet being stuck here scared her.

It was the same thing every day, so why was she scared? She was scared because she was stuck. Life was never going to change for her, and she was going to be stuck living the life she lived those 15 years prior.

It’s funny, though, she doesn’t want to be stuck in the same endless cycle, but change is not something she wants to experience. Maybe she doesn’t want a tremendous change, maybe just a small one to disrupt her endless cycle.

She doesn’t know. Her life is so concrete, and soon the concrete will crack. Soon life will change, and she will finally see the light and hear the echo that she has been trying so desperately to hear. Her time will come to climb out of that closet that she has been stuck in.

She won’t be stuck anymore.

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Does someone ever give you the wrong answer. Like you want desperately for them to understand you, to feel the same way about the situation and they give you the wrong answer. It’s not even their fault, they just don’t understand…but it doesn’t make it hurt any less when you care so much and they don’t seem to care at all

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Hi! Thank you for always finding fics for us! I was wondering if you’d be able to find an OT7 soulmate AU fic. It’s a names appear on your skin fic, and I think Yoongi is the one who gets the names but none of the others do until he recognizes them as his soulmates! Thank you

You’re welcome ^_^ I think you might be looking for Like The Names Of You And I by Soyftyoongi

Rating: G

Status: Complete

Word count: 3,783

Summary:  Yoongi wakes up every day with a different name in a different spot for 6 days and hides it from the others because:
1) he’s worried they don’t feel the same and
2) none of them get his name

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Word Count: 1,759



A/N:  This is a very Angsty chapter.  and there are trigger warnings.  I have put them in the tags as they are spoilers.  Please look if you are triggered.

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Inspired by Sync’s idea here, I just took the idea and added more angst because…why not, tbh. The first of three chapters in this miniseries. 

Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: OC, Dante, Vergil, Nero (mentioned in this chapter)
Tags: @nimnox @furyeclipse @synchronmurmurs @harlot-of-oblivion @queenmuzz

Summary: The cyclamen often represents resignation and goodbye, a flower that brings with it ill news. 

Keep reading

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so I listened to the bit where the Actual Sasha is like “I see you” just to compare her voice to Not!Sasha’s voice (I could not tell the difference but that’s def a me thing) and

you ever think about the fact Jon listened to his coworker die on tape?

Did he show the others? He had to have at least explained what happened fully, maybe even brought out that Kind Mother tape, but did he show them the tape where she dies painfully???

Did they have a session where they gathered together all of the tapes with Sasha’s voice and maybe whatever Polaroid of her that existed? Did Melanie get pestered about Sasha’s mannerisms during the one conversation they had together??

Did Sasha ever get a eulogy?

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Pairings: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini

Synopsis: When a simple bet during a year end field trip to a muggle museum goes terribly wrong, four students find themselves unwillingly thrown through time by an ancient amulet. Can they work together long enough to survive the multiple time periods, or will they fall victim to the horrors of the past and remain there…forever?



“I don’t do small gifts, love. If I’m going to buy you something, I’m going to go all out whether you like it or not. But…it would make me really happy if…if you wore it at least once.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Hermione grinned while she rested her chin on his shoulder as she hugged his bicep tightly “when we return home, if you still want to be with me, you can take me to one of your fancy Balls or whatever,” she giggled lightly “and I will wear it then. Sound like a plan?”

You, my lovely Princess, have yourself a deal” Draco smiled warmly while gazing happily into her eyes before placing a tender kiss upon her lips.

“You know…as much as I hate that we’re stuck in the past, jumping through different timelines, and dealing with death defying feats…I’m actually really grateful for all of it…” she stated as they both watched the dancing before them.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked while snuggling closer to her and placing a hand gently over the one hugging his arm.

“Because we finally get to be ourselves and…because without the time travel, I never would have realized what I was missing in life.”

“And what, pray tell, were you missing?” he inquired slightly puzzled as she paused for a brief moment.

“You…” she claimed as she turned her eyes to gaze up at him and softly smiled.

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Cloud had decided to personally go on this mission because they had it on good authority Avalanche’s second-in-command would be there. He did not want to take the chance of letting him slip through their fingers again.

It’s been three years since the war with Avalanche started. He’d already been working with Shinra for two – his SOLDIER unit had been hired right out of Academy after graduation. Shinra had hired a lot of squads from SOLDIER all over the world in preparation for an escalation in fighting. Avalanche seemed to be everywhere, bombing reactors, raiding villages and supply trains, and Shinra knew they needed more to put an end to them.

Cloud had been ambivalent about working for Shinra at first - it was just a job they were being paid to do. He was more concerned with his friend who’d been assigned to protect their hometown from Avalanche attacks. They had both left that village behind, hoping to never go back, but he had encouraged her. Said it would be okay.

Then six months later, Avalanche brutally ambushed that squad and massacred the town.

This fight had become personal for him.

So, when Shinra decided to enlist him into their military as an officer, he gladly accepted. Now he was a commander only several ranks below General Sephiroth himself. If he was being honest with himself, though, the ranks weren’t what really mattered. He didn’t care how many battles he had to fight - he was going to personally see Avalanche wiped out for ripping the one thing away that he loved.

Starting with their second-in-command.

They stalked the small Avalanche squad to the reactor in Sector Three. They’d put out false information about it containing some high-level codes, and knew it was only a matter of time before the rebel group took the bait. When Cloud saw the enemy having trouble at the door to the main reactor core – a door they’d made sure to change the codes on just an hour before – he ordered his men to surround them.

They turned around, hands raised, guns slung across their chests. The one in the middle, who did not have a gun, stepped forward – he was wearing a loose black jumpsuit and matching hat so Cloud couldn’t see his face. He had a smaller frame than Cloud thought it would, considering everything he’s heard about the man’s prowess in battle, but Cloud also wasn’t one to speak on another’s stature.

“We’ll be taking you into custody—”

A blur of movement. He’d just side-stepped in time to see their Commander’s fist moving forward into the space where his own head had been. He barely had time to grab his sword from his back when he launched into a flurry of attacks against him.

Shots rang out while the pair engaged in combat. He could see his men going down, but he was too preoccupied to help them. Cloud was fast, but with the weight of his sword, he was a hair slower than his enemy. Something about the way he fought was familiar…

Cloud dodged too late. A fist cracked him across the jaw, a kick launched him into the nearby railing. His adversary was about to kick him over the edge when a grunt ran into him and knocked him down. His hat fell off.

Cloud’s heart seized in his chest. The Commander made quick work of the grunt before standing up and facing him.

“You promised we’d graduate together, remember?”

“Aren’t the stars pretty tonight?”

“Cloud… I don’t want to go to Nibelheim. I don’t want this assignment.”

Red eyes stared back at him, at first hard and angry. He felt like time had stopped.

Suddenly she was on him, holding him against the metal railing. He leaned backward, his arms flailing behind him. Some emotion - sadness, anguish - swam in her eyes.

“I saw… I saw your body,“ he managed to say.

She pressed closer, her eyes flickering to her people behind them. She slipped something into his front pocket before leaning forward and whispering into his ear,

“They lied.”

Her face was all he saw as he toppled over the edge.

The pain in her voice was all he could hear.

“Tifa, you’re going to be okay. I’ll see you soon.”

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