#unfinished paintings that I won't come back to

[37-drc89]

smoke signals; bangchan

❁ where our love is locked.

trope: exes to lovers (kinda?)

genre: angsty angst but good ending.

summary: it eventually gets to chan, he has to let you go.

warnings: none.

word count: 2,2k.

masterlist

note: angsty season started for me :') as always, feedback highly appreciated!

The day he lost you.

The last view he gets of you is your red, puffed up face turning away from him, your figure completely disappearing behind the door. Loud thud of them shutting closed followed by even louder silence. Chan stands there, feet frozen to the floor, no matter how hard he tries to get out of its grip, he can't move. He knows that's how it's supposed to be. He doesn't take his eyes off the door hoping that maybe, just maybe they will open once again, you standing there coming in to hug him so tight, the first thing you always do when you see him. Although he's fully aware that this won't happen. He doesn't deserve your touch, your hugs, your kisses, he doesn't deserve you. Chan has to let you go.

Turning around he sees nothing but signs of you, being there just a few minutes ago. Unfinished cup of pomegranate flavoured tea resting on the table, now cold, TV muted but still playing your favourite show on the screen, pair of keys to your shared apartment splashed on the locker. You didn't take them with you like a sign that you never wish to come back there.

You have every right to do that, he thinks. Chan doesn't recall a situation when he messed up as badly as he did that day. He let you down, he let you feel unwanted, he let you leave your home, not even trying to stop you.

Though, it doesn't feel like he could call it home anymore. It's like you took this title away from this place, leaving only cold breeze behind. Chan's back is shivering at the unpleasant feeling, goosebumps creeping its way onto his arms and neck, where is your warmth now, when he needs it most?

Where are you now? Where did you go? Who is wiping your tears away off your cheeks, when it should be him?

Chan knows you, he knows you could never blame him even if it's him shattering your poor aching heart apart. You've always been so good to him like that, yet he's been so awful to you, the person he promised his whole life to, the person he personally laid his heart to, the person that was supposed to be meant for him. His mind is full of you, your watery voice replaying in his head like a broken record, the only thing he sees closing his eyes is your face painted with sorrow and guilt, you reaching out for his hand to lock it with yours, but he pulls it away, stepping back. Touching you would feel like a knife shoved down into his heart at that moment. That was probably the most selfish thing Chan has ever done in his entire life.

I know I'm a freak Ripped the Band-Aid, broke the peace Took the lock but lost the key.

The day after.

Chan's heart has never felt emptier than the morning he woke up, your side of bed unoccupied. He put your pillows and covers just how you like it, for you, as if you would join him the next day. But they stayed untouched. No show playing from the livingroom, the usual sound of coffee pot working is now silent, no music is heard, like you've always liked to do on your free days, dancing to your favourite songs while waiting for your boyfriend to wake up. Chan would stand by the door's frame, leaning against it, watching you enjoy yourself until you finally notice him, bright, heartwarming smile plastering on your face immediately. You never got mad at him for observing you silently, he's seen every side of you at this point. Even if you weren't the best dancer in the world, it's your private performances he would choose to watch for the rest of his life.

Now he leans against the same door frame as always yet his eyes have nothing to look at. His brain tries to visualise your silhouette shuffling around the room, spinning around but it's like he already forgot the view.

Chan sits at his side of the table, leaving yours empty. He doesn't make any efforts trying to eat something, lump in his throat present since yesterday's evening succesfully making him lose appetite.

You probably didn't get any sleep tonight. Chan knows you like the back of his hand, he knows your body is physically unable to relax if your mind is occupied with something stressful. Does the person you're with right now knows that? Do they treat you right? Do they know that the only things helping you calm down are either your favourite show or forehead smooches? Of course they don't. Chan is the only person you've ever fully exposed yourself to, the only person that has seen your broken state. He knows you would rather throw yourself off a cliff than face him. But being unaware of what's happening to you right now makes his eyes sting with unreleased tears and hands tremble, squeezing his shirt in the tightest grip his muscles could endure. He wants to text you, he wants to call you, ask where you are, run to you, drop to his knees and apologize, begging for your forgiveness, he wants to hold you until it's okay, he wants you to be okay again.

Feeling trapped in the closed space where all your belongings were, Chan goes out, not caring to put on any jacket nor scarf, scared that he'll accidentially ruin something you left after yourself, even if it's just a coat hanging in the front hall. His goal is clear, however he's not rushing anywhere, knowing he doesn't really have anything to come back to, no one's waiting for him anymore. Once his eyes reach the long, wide bridge breath hitches in his throat. Slowly stepping on it, sudden cold wind hits his face, making his whole body shiver, it's for the river flowing right under him. It feels almost impossible for the bridge not to collapse under the weight of all the padlocks attached to its railing and Chan can swear that he hears squeaking under his feet everytime he steps forward. His eyes seek for something familiar to him, probably hiding in the mass of locked love promises. Stopping in the midway he crouches down now facing the silver, shiny, perfectly looking padlock with your initials engraved beautifully in steel. That’s so cliché, some might think. But this has always been your little dream, the hopeless romantic in you yearning for locking love with your significant other for ages, so everyone can see how perfect you are with Chan. Now he’s staring at your promised love yet you are nowhere to be seen, the only thing surrounding him being fog, almost soaked in sorrow, and people walking by sending him apologetic glances, witnessing his shaking figure and head now hung down.

He remembers your excitement when he was attaching your padlock to the railing, happy with the placement. “You can see the city so clearly from here”, you once said. And you were right, the highest point of bridge allowed you to observe city life in detail, moving cars from afar, blinking lanterns, occasional neon lights and muffled music when a concert was happening nearby yet it could get so comfortably quiet in late evenings, not a single person disturbing such intimate moment. And of course, breathtaking view of the flowing river, reflecting moonlight, glowing brightly. At the bottom of it rests small, silver, heart shaped key. A key you threw away as far as you could that day, letting in run with the water as a symbol of your untouchable love. The conditions are perfect. Or, they could be.

Chan’s gaze lands at the padlock once again. His thumb smoothes over the flat surface and heart twists as he reads through a smaller text placed right below your initials. You said that this is your private promise, you chose this one together, wanting it to be your quote. Unable to stop tears now making their way to Chan’s frozen cheeks, he hides himself in his palm, just letting it out, holding onto your locker for dear life, like it would disappear in any moment.

“No turning back once we’re connected.”

Guess I set you free I hope you found a place to sleep I know you're bound to think of me

One month without you.

Past four weeks felt like a torture. Chan obviously had to work, his busy schedule treating him rougher than ever. Every task being harder to understand, coworkers words blurring out in his mind the second they were said. It wasn’t hard to tell that his mental health has dropped dramatically since a month ago, but Chan never liked involving private problems into his job. If anything, it kept his mind busy at least for these few hours, and maybe that’s why he tends to work at home ‘til past midnight, his body basically begging him to rest. It’s been fainting, blacking out not even being able to move properly but Chan never listened to it, knowing that if he lets himself off of his busy schedule, his thoughts will come back to you.

Speaking about you, you’ve never reached out to Chan. Not even a word, your activity status turned off since a month ago. He hasn’t seen you anywhere around the town as well. Of course, he tried visiting your favourite cafes, parks, tried waiting at your chosen benches just in case you walked by. He even spent a whole day waiting in front of the cinema on the day of your favourite movie’s continuation release date hoping you’ll come and see it, but you never showed up.

Chan forgot what your voice sounds like. Chan forgot where your significant moles were placed. And how your hair feels like when he smoothes it. He doesn’t even remember if you snore or not, or if you sweeten your tea. He’s been denying thinking about you so hard he forgot such basic things about you. Your scent already disappeared from all your clothes and pillows and Chan can’t recall that smell.

He wanders around the apartment with no purpose, just trying to keep his mind busy since all motivation and inspiration to work has been taken away from him, his thoughts going plenty different directions but not the ones he should actually focus on. Dead silence surrounds him, lights off, the only thing keeping the room somehow bright are last bits of sunset peeking through windows. Loud city life is coming to its end with sun disappearing, leaving Chan all to himself again.

Chan has already made peace with the fact that you're gone. Kind of. Everything around is trying to tell him not to stop hoping, that you'll come back as your clothes are still hidden in your part of wardrobe untouched, your book of poems still on the nightstand by your side of the bed and your keys still waiting for you on the table. But he stopped seeking for you in the crowd, waiting for you by your favourite places and buying your favourite snacks, knowing it's hopeless. He's now wrapped in his own shell, trying to get used to his own presence as it's the only thing he has left.

Until it's not. Until the quiet, unsure knocking spreads around the place, forming the pattern that you and him set up as your pattern, an announcement that you're home.

And Chan is by the door in a heartbeat. He doesn't have to check if it's you, he knows. Just before he got any time to think about what to say or what to do, his hand makes its own way to grab the handle and sway the door open. And it is you. You look so different yet still the same. So small under his shocked stare, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie, tired eyes on his. Your hair got just slightly longer, almost unnoticeable at first but Chan can always tell. Lips chapped, skin on your delicate hands picked up from all the stress you've been put in, visible signs of exhaustion painted all over your body.

"You're back," is the only thing he can get out of his chest, hands shaking behind the door just slightly, knees feeling like they could give up under his weight at any second. His eyes opened so wide they start to hurt but Chan doesn't dare to blink even once, scared that you'll be gone the next time he opens them.

"I'll always come back to you."

Your foot steps inside your home for the first time in a month and Chan swears that the dark atmosphere lightens up in a second, mind going empty but not in a bad way this time, like a breeze of fresh air on a sunny day, washing all his worries away. His body is meeting yours now, tangling in the most loving embrace he's ever been held in. Chan freezes for a moment, his brain calculating what exactly is happening before locking your tiny figure completely in between his arms, knocking every bit of air out of your lungs. He won't let you go. He won't let you go ever again. He will hold you forever now.

Because you're back.

You can come home to me when you're ready I left the gate unlocked for you

'Til then I'm sending out smoke signals Hoping I'll see yours too.

#stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz angst #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #bangchan imagines #stray kids scenarios #bangchan skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #skz au #stray kids au #chan x reader #chan skz #Spotify

[callsign-bunnie]

I’m not requesting Rudy owning a motorbike hc’s I’m on my knees begging for them. (This wasn’t something I knew I needed)

Please and thank you

I wasn't expecting to get that many asks but I'm grateful!

--

So, he's had the motorcycle since he was in his early twenties

He found it after finishing a raid (this was shortly before he became SIC) and marked it with a tracker to come back to it, later

It was very run down, an unfinished project by one of the Narcos that he, himself, had killed, so his first action with it was to scratch off their name and put his own on it

It was a very basic run down yamaha, nothing really special about it, besides the fact that it was a very pleasant blue color, and it wasn't very heavy due to the fact that it was missing quite a few of its parts

He had to sneak it onto the base, and later would relocate it to Alejandro's ranch

When Valeria's betrayal happened, his team ended up with a lot of free time due to investigations

So, he spent most of it trying to get that motorcycle to work

One of the first things that became very apparent was that it was neglected for a clear reason, that reason being that it was in VERY poor condition

Besides the outer bits, everything inside needed to be replaced

He's very tedious with cleaning it up and fixing it until it runs perfectly and with no issues, though this takes close to three years to do so

Money wasn't an issue, he found ways to steal the parts he needed if he couldn't afford them

The biggest issue was time, since he's made SIC somewhere in the middle of this and his time suddenly drops to having very little, if any at all

Eventually, though, he gets it finished and after new paint (he freshens the blue), it's ready to ride around

Alejandro isn't actually that anti-motorcycle, but he does express a lot of concern when Rodolfo drives it, so Rudy just learns to drive when he's not around

He puts hella illegal mods on it, and Alejandro isn't happy about that

If he can't sleep, he'll take it around Las Almas on "Patrol", just sort of keeping an eye on everything

Doesn't call it his baby, but everyone else does

He refuses to put stickers on it, and any Sergeant caught putting stickers on it gets a very loud and stern talking to. Of course, this means it becomes a game to see who can put the biggest sticker on it without being caught (the winner was Rodriguez with a massive Care Bear sticker) they're all removable, thankfully

Some Narcos are very hesitant to do things at night, since it's hard to know when Rodolfo Parra is gonna roll up on his bike and knock your lights out

If Alejandro is around, he wears a helmet, but he usually won't bother

He does know the risks of driving a motorcycle, but he's at an "if I die, I die" mentality, so he doesn't care

However, he doesn't want to listen to a lecture from Alejandro, so he will still be careful to wear one around him

He forgot ONCE and still hasn't heard the end of it

He's very meticulous in upkeep with it

#call of duty #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #alejandro x rodolfo #aledolfo #headcanons

[clownery-and-fuckery]

soul crushing angst just for you

"You're sure you're gonna be okay?"

Hunter had spoken lowly, voice earnest. Wrecker shrugged him off, smiling. "'Course I will be, why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that–" Hunter cast a look to Echo and Omega, who were pulling their shoes on. "–none of us have been alone since, you know."

He knew, but he immediately squashed the feelings that rose with the mention. "Hunter, I'll be fine. Just text when you're on the way home."

Hunter studied him for a moment longer, then sighed. "Alright." He pulled away, zipping up his jacket. "We won't be long."

Echo, Omega and Hunter filed out of the house, leaving Wrecker alone. Not actually alone, he knew, because Crosshair was still asleep upstairs.

Still, when the door shut, Wrecker felt alone.

He moved through the house, unsure of just how deep a sleep his younger brother was having, trying not to wake him up. He went to the kitchen, checking his phone.

He tinkered with what he could, passing the time with meaningless tasks. When the afternoon hit, Wrecker was up again, making lunch.

He was always the one on lunch duty, already absentmindedly making lunch for the others for when they decided to come back.

He set Crosshair's on a tray just outside his room, where he knew the smell of the freshly toasted bread would coax him from the sheets.

He had the others done and put away, so he picked up the other tray and walked downstairs.

He got to their extended room, originally meant to be a bedroom, but once they had gotten Hunter's van, they had insisted on keeping it indoors.

Now it served as a garage, and at one point, a work station for Tech.

Wrecker knocked on the door. Then pushed into the room. "Lunch–" He started, then stopped.

The room was empty.

It took an embarrassingly long time to remember that it would stay empty, for the rest of their lives, probably.

Wrecker stared at the unfinished projects strewn across the table, at the looped letters scribbled on plans and notes that were stuck and spread out across the workbench. He looked at the worn wood, at the blood splatters. He could recount every incident causing those splatters, in order.

The list ended as abruptly as—

Wrecker tore his gaze from the bench to the carefully packed toolbox sitting on the floor.

Tech's initials were etched into it with a messy child's scribe. Those tools were older than all of them, a gift from one of their designated social workers before they had been placed back with Nala Se.

It hadn't been a huge thing, still he cherished it. The paint had chipped and faded with age, but he wouldn't replace it.

Now, the toolbox was already collecting dust.

With a shuddering breath, and the tray forgotten, Wrecker had sunk to his knees. Hot tears welled in his eyes, blurring his view of his baby brothers beloved station.

He would never sit there again. He would never eat there again. Wrecker would never get the chance to chide him for getting grease on their cutlery, because he would never be there to do it.

Tech was never coming back.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, sobbing over the empty room. It felt so silly, such a large chunk of their house feeling so small. Without him, Wrecker felt the ache of unfinished work. Undone notes, half written sentences no one would ever understand.

He never got around to asking the right questions. The questions that led him into a speil, the ones that kept them waiting for longer than needed, the ones that, at one horrific point, made Wrecker roll his eyes.

If he could, he would travel back in time to beat himself up, screaming at him to never take their little brother for granted again. Because now that he was gone, Wrecker wanted nothing more than to listen to him.

Anything, he would give anything to hear his voice just one more time.

He heard the door creaking as it was opened, and couldn't bother to stifle his cries. He just wanted to be left alone.

"I haven't been in here since before it happened." Crosshair's voice was soft. "I thought if I was lucky, he'd come back before Hunter made us clean it."

Wrecker let out a wet laugh, nodding along as Crosshair sat down beside him. "It's quiet," Wrecker gasped out, wiping his eyes. "I had no idea how nice it was to hear the stupid sound of him tinkering."

Crosshair didn't verbally reply. "Sometimes–" Wrecker sniffed, wiping his eyes. "–sometimes I forget. That he's not here. I think my brain thinks he's still in school, that he'll be back by the evening."

Again, no response. "He's not coming back." Wrecker finished quietly. "I keep forgetting."

Crosshair took a shuttering breath. "Me too." He mumbled. "Been waiting to wake up, for him to laugh at me for having such a weird dream."

Wrecker leaned on his brother. "I miss him." His voice cracked.

Crosshair drew a sharp breath, and said nothing.

gonna be honest, this was a tough one to post, but writing it was really cathartic, so hopefully it'll reach the right people !!! I'll finish up the rest of the fic soon, so be ready for that :)

#sw the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb tech #aw modern au #uhh #tw death #i dont usually do tws cause i never get them right #but heyy

[vole-mon-amour]

In A Like Supreme it's Kerry's "You wanna hear a new— He's... gone, isn't he?" & "How was the gig? (...) Damn shame I had to miss it" "Eeehh, can still come to my show."

It's the disappointment in Kerry's voice and him wanting to spend more time with Johnny, not talk to him through V. "Voices out of the grave." What I noticed this time around is how Kerry is ready to share any unfinished material with Johnny.

For example, Kerry plays V that yacht song as a way to show his trust and his gratitude to V (and granted, it happens after you help him multiple times, so character development is happening), but right after the concert I'm pretty sure Kerry doesn't have a finished song. He wants to share that material with Johnny because he trusts Johnny and wouldn't mind his input, too. He still sees Johnny as his best friend that he loves dearly.

In Phantom Liberty, when you ask Kerry about his album, he tells you that it's still too raw and he isn't ready. Even at the time of A Like Supreme, it's "You can come to the show" aka Kerry's way of saying, you can hear me singing and playing but only at the show. When I'm at my best. When I'm ready.

While what I'm sure would happen with Johnny is that Kerry would invite Johnny home/to the studio (which is often the same thing since I'm sure some things Kerry records at home) and share that raw material with him (and they could create the music together).

Johnny tells Kerry that he "won't play without you, wouldn't be the same". Kerry answers, "I see what you're doing here, but I'm still plannin' on playing."

Which is yeah, Johnny wants in, but there's a reason he didn't let Kerry leave the band. He knew he needed Kerry. So it's quite mutual, actually, even though Kerry established his solo and is quite confident in it after that:

He's relieved he no longer has this burden of waiting for Johnny, of expecting him to come back and feel like he's walking on a knife's edge while on that; of proving himself to the crowd and to Johnny when Johnny does come back. Which doesn't mean he wouldn't want to share his love for music with Johnny again.

Their relationship is complicated. They and their love for each other is deeply rooted in them & they'll always be a part of each other's lives.

And while I'm on A Like Supreme, boyfriends' guns next to each other:

Both loved Samurai very much. Both can't live without music. Both are very similar. Both, in some way, are still best friends.

Though I find it funny that Kerry's gun costs more. There's no way to get both at the same time, and to me it looks like a pointer into Kerry's expensive attitude. Money's never an issue while one of the first commentaries that Johnny makes upon entering Kerry's villa is "Hope it was expensive at least."

Your best friend did fine, Johnny, and all without you. And all while waiting for you to come back and missing you. And all while thinking about you every single day ever since you "disappeared".

UPD: Also, when you read Kerry's messages on his laptops, he offers his ex to choose a trip with the kids and for him to pay for her trip. I'm not exactly set on what I think about that—whether he doesn't want to spend time with his children or his ex makes him THAT uncomfortable so that he offers a "bribe". You do that, I'll pay. The same goes for his car and the Samurai-like painting—money is not an issue, just don't try to screw me over.

Plus, when in PL ending V wakes up from a 2 year coma, the first thing Kerry offers is eddies. I don't know, but the topic of money is threaded in him and in the things he owns. Including, obviously, the gun that he owns and very generously gifts to V like it's nothing (because, for him, it kind of is. He can always make a replica if he need to.)

#silverdyne #kerry eurodyne #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 #cb2077 #the target audience for this is me #and like 2 people that still haven't blocked me for my takes on Kerry and Johnny #natiswriting #a like supreme always gets me #also #playing as female V is sooo <3 #way more comfortable than as male V #i'll always make it about silverdyne #'cause i have an otp in them :) #long post #meta #if you think i have brainrot #oh yes #it is BAD #why can't i write my au as successfully as posts like this one? #phantom liberty

[iwonderwh0]

@my-name-is-markus-with-a-k YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

The following text is entirely your fault

"What's in this room?"

"Oh, this one is my studio. I keep my paintings here and-"

"You can draw?" Connor's eyebrows rise, "Can I see?"

"Sure," Markus says before he manages to stop himself. Realisation catches up with him the next instant, and he almost reaches to stop Connor from entering the room to go first and at least try to hide the evidence, but Connor has already stepped inside and is now coaching down carefully examining dried paintings set on top of each-other along the wall. Good. That'll win Markus some time. He quietly steps around him, grabs a towel from one of the tables and moves to the corner of the room, closer to the window and consequently the easel with yet unfinished piece. Connor shouldn't see this one. Markus drapes the cloth over the canvas just in time for Connor to start standing up to take a closer look at those paintings hanging on the wall.

"They're so colourful, and yet your choice of colours confuses me."

"How so?" Markus steps closer, trying to make his voice sound as casual as possible, but it comes out slightly higher pitched than he intends it anyway. Maybe he'll be able to talk Connor into getting bored and deciding to leave on his own before exploring the rest of the room more throughout.

"It looks intentional, like it symbolises or references something specific. But I'm not sure what it is," he turns his head and looks genuinely curious. Given the situation Markus shouldn't be excited about this fact. No, this is bad. He won't get bored that easily, is he?

"Or am I overthinking it?" Connor adds sheepishly as Markus remains silent for way too long.

"Yes." Markus says suddenly, surprising himself with how determined this false claim came out.

Shit. That's not what he meant, he just needs Connor to leave. Now. He is dying to say something else to refute what he just said, but Connor steps aside from the painting startled by the coldness of Markus's voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry," he says.

Markus struggles to stay quiet.

It's working, don't say anything and he'll leave.

Except he doesn't. He turns around and walks to the other wall.

"Oh, you draw people too," he says as he looks at the portrait of an old man holding a chess piece – white bishop.

"Do you draw them from imagination or are there real-life models?"

"It depends," Markus gets closer, "This one is a portrait of someone I knew in real life – he actually even posed for this. But I have portraits of people that aren't really based on anyone. I can show you, if you want."

Why again is he suggesting something that'll extend Connor's time spent in a studio?

"Or we can do something else?" Markus adds quickly, in an attempt to fix his mistake.

"No, no! Now that you mentioned it, I am curious. Show me."

Great job, Markus.

He gets to the corner of the room where a few old portraits are lying stacked on top of each other and quickly sorts through the stack of them, turning the canvases to the light, searching for the ones not based on real people.

"Why is there two different dates?" Connor asks, and Markus stops to look at the back of the canvas.

"It usually takes me more than a day to finish a piece, so I mark the day I first start it, and then the day It's completely finished. You see, it takes time for this type of paint to dry, and it's important to let every layer dry completely before starting with the next one. It takes a lot of time and patience, so I often work on a couple different paintings at once...Huh, wait, I think it's not here," Markus stands up and looks around the room, thinking where else could he find the portraits he was looking for, then crosses the room to look through the paintings lying along the wall there. Maybe he should just pick one and lie about it – it's not like Connor will now the difference anyway.

"Oh, here!" Markus picks one of the first portraits he's able to find in the stack, "This one wasn't based on anyone," he takes the canvas out of the stack and turns around expecting to see Connor still standing behind him. He could swear he was standing behind him all this time, but now that he turned around Connor wasn't there. Instead, he is standing next to the window, looking at the portrait displayed on the easel.

"How about this one?"

Markus feels as if all the air in the room suddenly disappears, leaving him no oxygen to breathe in. He takes a few steps closer to the window, desperately trying to think of a response. He looks at the towel in human's hand and wonders if there was a single chance for Connor Not to look under it.

"This..erm..," He trails off under the stare of narrowed brown eyes, "It's a little bit of both worlds, I believe."

Connor glances from a portrait back to Markus.

"You 'believe'," he echoes. Markus wishes he could understand what emotion his face is showing, but perhaps Connor himself wouldn't be able to name it if asked.

"Um, I... It's not finished," Markus says, as if this fact drastically changes everything.

"Oh," Connor says, pretending as if it actually does.

He turns the canvas around and stares at the date. He frowns, glances back at Markus, then back at the date. From the expression on his face Markus realises, that he's doing math. Another realisation hits Markus when Connor's eyes widen in silent shock. The date on the back of the canvas precedes what Connor knows to be the first time they've met. What would even be the right time to mention it anyway?

"I can explain," Markus says.

#vampire au #dbh connor #rk1k #dbh markus #dbh

[jisunghannie]

Always the Artist, Never the Muse

PAIRING: Hyunjin x male!reader

WARNING: Lots of Angst, boyxboy (bxb), school!au, rejection, reader has a girlfriend, reader uses jagi/jagiya on their girlfriend, told more from Hyunjin's point of view, reader's point of view is majority of the time with their girlfriend

SUMMARY: Hyunjin has a crush on you but you never seem to look his way. He always paints you and sketches you. But he's scared to approach you because he believes that you'll make fun of him for liking you so he likes you from a distance. Even though he knows that you have a girlfriend.

WORD COUNT: 2,843

A/N:

.°•○>><<○•°. = POV switch

`○°.• ✿ •.°○` = Timeskip

I might write a female version! Let me know if you'd like that too! This is based off of a poem I read on tiktok. It just screamed Hyunjin when I read it so I wrote about it!

You always saw a boy in your class stare at you. Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin. He was the boy that won that art competition in your class last year. You won't lie, his art was amazing but what was weird was him constantly staring at you. That was weird. Something about him was just-

"Hey lover!" Your girlfriend called out as you turned and smiled. "Hey jagi." You said, kissing her on the cheek.

You turned and looked back to Hyunjin, the boy was gone. You wondered where the peculiar boy went. You sighed but enjoyed your time with your girlfriend.

.°•○>><<○•°.

Hyunjin was hiding behind the wall by the classroom door trying not to let his heart break and at the same time jump out of his chest.

He was hurt that you kissed your girlfriend but then again, it was your girlfriend. There's nothing he could do to stop it. He sighed, hoping that he could be in your girlfriend's shoes.

At the same time, he was smiling knowing that you looked at him and noticed him.

`○°.• ✿ •.°○`

A few weeks passed since the incident and Hyunjin still wasn't over it. He still couldn't believe it. As he was spacing out while walking he bumped into you.

"Ah, I'm so sorry." He said as he bowed an apology. "Don't worry about it." You said smiling as Hyunjin realized who it was. He realized a little too late after he lifted his head. He blushed in embarrassment and scratched his neck nervously.

"Hey, you're Hwang Hyunjin right? The guy that won the art contest right?" You asked as Hyunjin nodded bashfully. "Awh, that's amazing. Your art is amazing as well. Maybe you can paint me one day." You said, half joking and half serious. However, Hyunjin liked you so much that he already could draw you from just memory.

"My girlfriend is planning to run for the one art competition coming up for scholarship." Hyunjin was hurt to hear you mention your girlfriend, but his petty side spoke up and said, "What art contest? I think I might've signed up too." You chuckled, "I think it was called KNUA? Korea National University of Arts." He said as Hyunjin let out his fakest giggle.

"I'm going there too! What a coincidence." He lied as you stood there he was flattered, and you guys traded numbers.

Later that same day, he went to go sign his name, read the details, and go get his materials.

.°•○>><<○•°.

After the conversation with Hyunjin you went back to your girlfriend. You smiled at her as you saw her painting. You silently crept behind her as you hugged her from the back.

"Hey jagi, I got what you needed." You said as she smiled and hugged you. "Thank you so much!" She said, you chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Anything for you lover." You told her.

`○°.• ✿ •.°○`

There was approximately a week and a half left until the showcase. You were supporting your girlfriend as she was almost finished. You smiled as she looked happy with her piece.

"What do you think so far jagi?" She asked as you looked at the painting. It was with two people hugging, laying down. While in what seems to be an unfinished painted casket. "Why a casket?" You asked as she smiled. "I'm taking the marriage vow, 'till death do us part' literally." She said as you nodded your head. "You're so smart." You told her as you admired it. "I don't get art but that was really smart." She giggled at that.

"I need more paint, can you go get me some from the store?" She asked as you nodded, kissing her head and leaving to the art store.

You practically had the directions memorized by how much your girlfriend went there.

As you walked in, you saw Hyunjin in the store and walked over to him. "Hey Hyunnie," You said, "I didn't know you shopped here too." As you finished your sentence he jumped. "Oh, it's just you..." He said, taking a sigh. "Of course, who else would it be Hyunnie." You told him as he turned around and turned his slightly downwards. "Did you just call me 'Hyunnie'?" He asked as you nodded.

"Woah, you have so many feminine features." You told him, moving his hair out of his face to look at his face. "Your eyelashes are so long, your hair is silky smooth, not to mention your lips are amazing, they are plump and full." You admired as he pulled back. "Thank you..." He thanked softly as you smiled.

"Only a week and a half left. How's your painting?" You asked as he stood frozen in place. "I-It's done, just gotta add a few more details." He said, his voice stuttering in the beginning. "Are you okay Hyunnie what's up with the stutters. "It's nothing. I'm gonna go pay. I'll see you whenever y/nnie..." He said as he got in line.

.°•○>><<○•°.

After he paid for his stuff, he walked home blushing like crazy, thinking about the situation. You gave him a nickname. That alone made Hyunjin blush. What made him blush even more was that you had touched his hair and his face. That drove him wild.

He didn’t know what to do. He felt awkward and didn’t know how to reply. He hid his face all the way home. He saw your car as you rolled down your window.

"Hey, it's kind of hot, you want a ride home? I have the ac cranked up." You offered as he nodded and sat in the back seat. "Hey, I'm not your uber, I'm your friend, come sit next me in the passenger seat." He nodded and sat in the passenger seat.

While Hyunjin sat and buckled his seatbelt you put your phone on the phone stand on your car. "What's your address?" You asked, he told you his address as you smiled and put on his gps. "Feel free to play music." You said as Hyunjin nodded.

He put on his favorite song, i hate to admit by Bangchan.

You smiled as you sang along to the song. Hyunjin was surprised as you sang. "You know this song?" He asked as you nodded. "This song helped me through my hardest times. When my mother passed. I felt really alone because I never met my father and losing the only other parental figure in my life hurt." You told him. He felt bad and tried reaching for your hand but he restrained himself and took his hand back.

"I'm sorry to hear that y/nnie..." He said as you chuckled, "Don't be, I know my mother would've loved to be with me right now. She still is but spiritually." He said, grabbing the photo in his visor mirror. "She would've loved Jiah." He said as Hyunjin felt his heart break. "How did you meet Jiah?" He asked as you smiled. "She had sprained her ankle during a class field trip. I had merely helped her and took her to the closest medical tent. She was grateful and offered me coffee. What became a mutual hang out became another, and another, then a date, then another date, then another, and soon we ended up dating. I asked her out, and she agreed."

Hyunjin nodded at the story, not knowing that the truth would hurt this badly.

"She was the highlight of my life." You said as Hyunjin bit his lower lip trying to ignore the watery eyes. "So why do you listen to this song Hyunnie?" You asked as he looked at you. "Similar to you. It helps me out and calms me down. It makes me understand that," He stopped his words as he sighed, "It makes me understand that I'm never going to have the one I want. I will only be on the side but never in frame." He said looking forward.

You sighed. "I know how that feels but hey, you're a catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you Hyunjin."

As you said that, he caught himself smiling slightly. The way his name rolled off your tongue just made the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

You pulled up to a house. "This your house?" You asked as he looked outside. "Yeah, this is it." He said unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his things. "Thank you y/nnie..." He silently thanked as you smiled. "Anytime Hyunnie."

As you went inside, he saw you drive off as he walked slowly, then he fell to the floor. Sobbing. He knew that he would never have a chance with you, but hearing how much you love your girlfriend just made his heart hurt in a way unimaginable. As he cried, his painting sat on the easel. Waiting to be showcased and finished.

.°•○>><<○•°.

You arrived back at your place, where your girlfriend was peacefully painting. Finishing the last few touches.

"Looks great jagiya." You said as she turned. "Y/n!" She exclaimed, hugging you close and tight. "I missed you." She said calmly this time as you smiled. "I missed you too." You said as she looked up at you. "What took you so long?" She asked, pulling you to the couch to sit. "I saw Hyunjin and dropped him off at home." You told her as she beamed and smiled. "I always thought Hyunjin was amazing! I always admired his art. I think I would've left you for him if he gave me a chance." She teased as you made a noise of surprise. "I'm just kidding jagi! I'm kidding! You know I love you too much for that!" She said. You hugged her close just then, "Good!" You said jokingly as she giggled. "Let me gooo! I need to finish!" She sang out as you tickled her. "Not a chance." You said while she laughed.

After calming down, she finished her painting. "All done! Now I need to write a title and the explanation on paper to have it exhibited and sign my name on it once it's dry." She said as you looked confused. "Why do you have to do all that?" You asked as she giggled. "So it's, professional jagi." She told you as she went to the kitchen. "What do you want to eat? Dinner is on me tonight." She said as you covered your mouth. "No offense jagi... but you're better off painting..." You teased. "Why you little... fine! Then you can starve!" She said. "I'm kidding! Jagi! Jiah!" You said chasing after her.

`○°.• ✿ •.°○`

It was the night before the exhibition. Your girlfriend loaded everything in your car as she smiled. "You ready for tomorrow?" You asked as she nodded. "So ready!" She replied as you took her inside to sleep.

.°•○>><<○•°.

Hyunjin had just finished writing the explanation. He smiled sadly at his piece. If any other person saw him, they'd think Hyunjin was unhappy or sad about his piece. Truth be told, it was because of the piece that he was sad. Hyunjin loaded everything in his car and slept, ready for the exhibition tomorrow.

Hyunjin got up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, did his skincare, ate, applied a lip balm, packed his bag and left. Ready for the exhibition.

When he got there he saw other students from his school with fabulous pieces. They didn't cover theirs like Hyunjin did but he knew that his painting was special to him.

He had seen you and Jiah together. You kissed Jiah and wished her good luck. That. Had hurt. He saw Jiah's painting. It was beautiful but again, nothing could compare to how special his painting was.

After all the contestants, Jiah was second to last and Hyunjin was last.

"Now welcome up on the stage, Miss Kim Jiah!" They called out as she walked up, placing her painting on the easel. "Hello everyone! I'm Kim Jiah. My painting is titled 'Till Death Do Us Part'. The reason I chose this is because, ironically, enough. My boyfriend and I plan to get married after high school. I know it's super sickening, but listen to me. The reason why I chose this is because I don't know what I would do without him. I really do value my loved ones. My role model in my life was always my father because he swore to my mother this vow when they got married. My mother cheated on him, and yet he forgave her and ended up being with her even when she was pregnant with another child that wasn't his. He loved her. He really did. Then the accident came. My mother was barely clinging to life, and my father told the doctors to take anything they needed from him to save her. Unfortunately, my half-sister passed, and that same day, I lost both my parents. I remember my mother telling my father she was pregnant with another child who wasn't his, and all he did was hold her hand and told her, 'I'll never stop loving you. I forgive you. Remember our vows. Till death do us part.' Thank you for listening.' She said as the audience erupted in applause.

The announcer then stepped onto the stage, "Thank you so much for that Miss Kim with your painting and your story of the origin of that painting. Now, welcome onto the stage, our previous winner of last year, Hwang Hyunjin!" As Hyunjin stepped onto the stage, the audience clapped and cheered. Hyunjin placed his covered painting on the easel. "Hello, as some of you may know. My name is Hwang Hyunjin." He said looking for you in the audience. Once he locked eyes with you, he knew that this was going to be a scary yet relieving explanation. "My painting is called, 'Always the Artist, Never the Muse.'" He said as he unveiled the painting, it was the most beautiful painting of a man. A man similar looking to you. "The reason why I painted this man is because this is the man that I love." He admitted as the audience murmured. "I know what you guys are thinking, but just listen. I've loved this man for so long. Since my grade school years. I watched him grow and become amazing. However, I know that he would never see me like that. I say that because he has someone who he holds dear to him already. I'm honestly jealous. I wish I could be that close to his heart as she is. Whenever I see them, my heart breaks knowing that I could've been the one in his arms. I know that sounds selfish. But I couldn't ask for someone more or even close to perfect as him. He is just the most amazing person you'll know. He and I just got closer recently and all I feel is my heart jumping out at my chest whenever I talk to him. But whenever he looks at me with those eyes, it's because he's not looking at me, he's looking behind me. Those eyes are just for me to see that it's a sight that will never belong to me. so I decided to capture that loving look he gives to his girlfriend, because I am always the artist, never the muse. Thank you for taking the time to listen to me." He said as he looked at you. Who just stood there shocked. As the audience roared in applause and cheers as some cried. Hyunjin bowed, took his painting, and went off the stage taking a sigh of relief as the other contestants congratulated him for coming out to the world.

After all the art pieces were exhibited. Hyunjin sat by his piece, as he felt another person sit next to him. He looked, and it was you.

"Hey." You said. "Hey." Hyunjin replied as you started, "Look-" Hyunjin cut you off, "I know don't worry y/n. I know you don't love me or see me that way." He said as you sighed. "It's not just that. But, Jiah isn't comfortable with me being friends with you when we are both aware that you have feelings for me. I'm sorry Hyunjin." You said dryly as you stood up. "I'm glad I could be here to support you at least." You said, walking away.

Before Hyunjin could cry they called all the contestants on stage.

"Votes are in and now the student winning the scholarship is..." Everything went in one ear out the other, Hyunjin could've cared less, because he lost someone important to him that's what Hyunjin considered a tragedy to all. "Hwang Hyunjin! Our infamous winner from the year before as well!" The announcer said, as Hyunjin was given an envelope of acceptance to KNUA. Hyunjin didn't care. He had lost the person most important to him. It was more important than this stupid acceptance paper. To him, you were the world.

He fell to the floor in tears because he knew that him being with you would never happen. Only in his dreams, because he is always the artist, never the muse.

#skz #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids #skz angst #hyunjin skz #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin hwang #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #skz hwang hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin angst

[thequietkid-moonie]

helloooooooo. I see you opened a request, can I set it back to shijima mei (tbhk) when in love and yandere..if you don't want it, you can skip it. Wish you have a good day :333

The diference between love and obsession

[ YANDERE COMPARITION ] [ Mei Shijima ]

[ Toilet Bound Hanako-kun / Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun ]

⚠️ This contain spoilers about her backstory

Thank you so much for requesting this!!! I love so much Mei that im so happy to be writing for heeeeeeer <33333

I was so nervous but also so excited to write this because this idea has being stuck on my head for a while and now is finally happening!!! I hope I made a good job!

Mei's love is quite complex, despite being born out of the love and a great desire to finish her paint of the original Mei Shijima, she hasn't really felt anything compare to what Mei used to feel for painting, she care for her and was happy to acomplish her wish but now she only paints because is her duty not because she likes it

Honestly, at first, once her feelings started to grow she find them quite annoying, is just distracting her from her work and was disturbing her little peace, but at the same time make her want to be with you and see you, after thinking for a while about it Mei finally decides to give a chance to her feelings

Mei's love is complex, is gentle and discreet in the exterior but intense and stronge in the interior, she isn't too obvious with her feelings to you, or to anyone really, but with herself she is rude, she curse herself for falling in love but at the same time she is thankful because now her burden is a little lighter

Her love guide her to unconsciously draw portraits of you, potrails that she never bring herself to finish, as if it was a reminder that only you can be you, the one who makes her heart happy but her mind troubled. It's her love what makes her go out of her comfort zone a little more, bit by bit, just to be able to experience more with you instead of just painting her distant wishes and desires

But is also her love is what makes her be scare of losing you, of you leaving her all alone with her burden just like the human Mei did to her, is her love and fear what makes her feel like everytime you leave her to do something else their is the chance that you won't come back, the posibility of something happening to you or maybe you just don't want to be with her anymore torture her. Its her fear what makes her stare at your unfinish portraits wondering if she should finish it so at least she will have a reminder of you. But despite all the anxiety is her love what make her convince herself that, no matter what happen she will fine, and you will be fine too, she loves you but she won't trap you in her own cage, so if you ever leave her behind she will let you go because you'll will always live in her heart and memories

Mei's obsesive love for you is quite interesting, to say at least. She has no other feeling that she ever felt that can compare, only the care she used to hold for the human Mei Shijima, aside from that her entire existance has being just falling into a deep darkness where she was forced to paint over and over again in order to don't disappear, growing more and more annoyed by each moment not only by her burden but by how the people talk in such horrible way about the only person she had ever cared for

But your presence has being a ray of Light in her inmense darkness, it was surprising and quite weird when you first came to her life, she felt a little annoyed by not know what you were doing here with her, but as the time pass she start caring less and less about your motivation for being here

Her love grew slow but stronge, and with this obsesive love she couldn't care less about anyone finding out, honestly if someone asked her she will quickly accept her growing interest on you, in an attempt that showing it as if now you were hers and only hers

She didn't had anything and never have asked for anything in particular, if she wanted something she could just paint it and bring it to life, but not you, you were unique and special, she tried over and over again to paint portraits of you, bringing at life clones of you, they acted like you, they looked like you, they even sounded like you, but non of the are you, so they were quickly destroyed merciless, Mei didn't even bothered to glance at them one more time before destroying the paper where they were painted while feeling annoyed by they mere existance

I because of her obsesive love that Mei wants you all for herself, so instead of going out she always finds a way to lull you to the art room, where she is gracefuly painting all kind of things you may like, landscapes, things, people even! whatever you want as long as you stay with her

Mei's broken heart remind her that there is the chance that you may leave her one day, just like human Mei left her so long ago, but she doesn't want that, she doesn't want to be left alone again and she will not let that happen! It's Mei's obsesive love what lead her to create the perfect paradise for you, paint a world were you two can be happy for the eternity, a place where you'll never have the need to leave her, and when is finally finish and perfect for you she will add the latest but most important detail, you

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk x reader #mei shijima #mei shijima x reader #mei x reader #yandere mei x reader #x reader #x gn reader #yandere x reader #manga x reader #anime x reader

[wolfprincesszola]

The Fate of the Marked Six Chapter 11

happy new year! i can't believe we've hit double digits so fast and that we're almost halfway through this! as always, reblogs and likes are appreciated! enjoy <3 ——————– Summary: Virgil moves into a new town and meets Roman, a ghost that he promises to help in finding the unfinished business needed to pass over. However, Roman's past seemed to be deeply muddled with trouble, an uncurable disease that has started to affect a classmate, and a certain tight-lipped valedictorian. Friendships are made and Virgil finds himself thrown into a situation far more complicated and twisted than he signed up. Hopefully, with the help of his new five friends, he can find a way to bring peace to the town once and for all.

Trigger Warning: None

Content Warning: Suggestive Language (Remus), Swearing

<Masterlist>

<Previous> <Next> ——————–

Chapter 11

Everyone of the friend group had gotten a rosary after Virgil knew that at any moment, they could be attacked.

Janus didn’t take off his rosary unless he was in the shower, but even then, it was enough for him to be scared. He constantly gripped the rosary, scared that they would take him too, and he wouldn’t be able to help Remus. It terrified him to his core, but he tried not to show it.

After the big fight with Logan and Virgil, the two stopped talking to each other (not that Logan talked to anyone before). It was clear that Virgil wanted to speak to him, but Logan wasn’t ready. He started avoiding everyone in the halls…everyone but Janus.

With Janus, Logan was quiet. He didn’t speak, only ever helping with homework or a school project. Either way, Logan was being himself. It was everyone else that was being weird.

Remus was asking Virgil more about things relating to his cancer, and relying on Janus less. Virgil was still contemplating on another solution besides sacrificing Logan’s brother. Most of all, Patton was being weird. Even before the fight, he had been all jumpy around Logan, but it got worse after the fight. He stopped talking to Logan at all, and started to become more annoying than usual. In the past week, there were more pranks than he could count, Logan not too far to clean up after them. Patton had been assigned more than 30 hours of detention in one day because of his pranks. He had yet to make up his previous 25.

Janus was reading a book when Logan walked into their homeroom silently, doused from head to toe in red paint.

“Mr. Sanders, what happened?”

“Take a guess.” Logan gave a look, “I need a detention slip for Mr. Morris.”

“I think you have to try a different method rather than detention. It’s clear it doesn’t bug him anymore.” Janus tsked as he walked up.

“Mr. Wright, you should be in your seat.”

“And you should be doing something about the fact that Logan’s covered in red paint. Instead, you were about to hand him a detention slip to give to his perpetrator, and you were going to make him clean up both the mess that happened and himself. Are you serious?” Janus crossed his arms before he snatched the slip. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take Logan into the bathroom to change, and then I’m going to help him clean up because it’s clear you won't.”

“Sit back down, Mr. Wright.”

“Or what? You’ll make Logan give me a detention slip?” Janus teased before he grabbed Logan’s hand, “Come on, I have a clean baggy shirt that might fit you in my locker.”

Logan gladly let Janus pull him along.

“What happened?” Janus asked, as he started to put in his combination lock.

“He got me at the entrance. I walked out of the teacher meeting, and for some reason, he knew what order I came out in because he dumped it on me purposefully.” Logan sighed.

“I’m sorry. I know he’s been super weird recently.”

“He’s lashing out because he thinks that me not being ready to talk about my brother means that he can’t be my friend.” Logan tried not to lean against the locker as Janus grabbed the extra clothes he had and they walked towards the bathroom. "He believes that humor is the best solution to this, but I'm afraid I don't find it very funny. I doubt he does either."

“I mean, you did kinda push his hand off your shoulder when he was trying to restrain your temper.”

“I know.” Logan sighed as they arrived in the bathroom. “I don’t need to hear it twice.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about your brother? I mean…it has been 4 years.”

“My brother was my everything. Before I had him, I had nothing. After I lost him, I had nothing again. I don’t think there could be anything to help fix the empty loneliness I got after he died.” Logan took off his glasses, putting it to the side as he flipped his head over, putting his hair under the sink.

“You kinda cut yourself off from everyone after it happened. I know personally."

“My parents tried to blame his death on me the first few months. They stopped after I started to become my brother. I improved my grades, and started helping around the house more than I already was. I took over both my chores and my brother’s. I cleaned his room after it became messy. I enrolled in his extracurriculars, and became a perfect replica of Roman by the time I became a freshman.” Logan murmured as he let the water on the sink run underneath for his hair. The red paint started to come off the strands. “My family stopped missing him as much. The teachers at school stopped missing him. They had someone to rely on again, even if I didn’t feel like I was me. That was better than them hating me, so I kept it like that. I was willing to become a stranger, just like my brother had to me, if it meant that maybe I would stop blaming myself for his death as well.”

Janus felt his heart break as he realized that the Logan he knew wasn’t the boy that Logan knew.

Logan squeezed the water out of his hair, successfully getting all the paint out. He shook the last parts of his hair that was wet before moving to wash his face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“I’m sorry my brother had to deal with that.” Logan shrugged, “I’ve accepted my fate. I just regret not being able to help my brother in his last final moments.”

Janus watched as Logan’s fate of regret started to glow brighter with the same color of the paint on his clothes.

Logan took out his rosary to wash it and dry it, careful not to ever lose his grip on it before he put it back on, making sure to avoid the paint still on him. He took the shirt into a stall to change into.

At that moment, Janus heard a noise and he turned around to see Virgil.

“Hey.” Janus nodded at him.

“I heard Patton did a thing.” Virgil began, holding out a bag, “He told me what happened and said he felt bad.”

“He got Logan pretty good.” Janus snorted.

“I saw you and him rush out of your class. Patton told me he had a spare change of clothes for Logan in his locker.”

“Patton doesn’t know my clothing sizes.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I mean…Patton seems to be the same size as you. I'm guessing he just grabbed some clothes from his closet."

Logan walked out soon after in new clothes that didn’t seem too much like his usual style. While his usual style consisted of a preppy-boy school uniform look, the clothes he picked out for his were almost the exact opposite. It played on Patton's style with the polo shirt and a cardigan. Logan decided not to wear the cardigan the same way Patton did, but instead just put it on like a normal cardigan.

“Woah. You look different.” Virgil blinked.

Logan stared in the mirror, holding his paint stained clothes in one hand and dropping it into the sink. Janus swore for a second, he saw Logan’s fate of regret disappear from his head completely, but as soon as Logan looked down to wash his clothes, it came back.

“I think you two should go back to your classes. Thank you…but I’ll be fine from now on.”

“No.” Janus shook his head, “I came here to help you.”

“And you have. You can have your shirt back.” Logan replied numbly as he motioned to the inside of the stall.

Janus grabbed it, but didn’t move, “You don’t deserve to be alone at a time like this.”

Logan finished getting all the paint off his clothes, putting the wet ones into the bag that had stored the clothes he was wearing now, “I don’t think I’m going back into my classroom. You guys shouldn’t skip class though. It’s unethical and you guys should listen to what you’re learning.”

“And you shouldn’t?”

“I’ve learned everything there is to know about every subject at the school now.” Logan walked towards his locker, unlocking it to put the bag inside of it, right next to his neatly stacked books and binders. “Besides, I need to clean up the mess he made.”

“Then let me help. Let us help.” Virgil urged. “You don’t have to feel alone.”

Logan didn’t answer, only walking away, Virgil and Janus following suit. He didn’t talk the entire time they were cleaning, even when Virgil and Janus sparked up conversation with each other.

“Hey Jan.”

Janus looked up from his cleaning to see Remus grinning at him. “Hey Re. What are you doing here?”

“Coming from the bathroom when I see you here.” Remus shrugged, “I hope all this red is blood. Who'd you kill? Why didn't you invite me?”

“Paint.” Virgil remarked, not paying attention to what Remus had suggested, “If you aren’t doing anything, help us with the cleaning.”

Janus tossed a roll of paper towels towards Remus’s direction. “Pick up the pace. We’re almost done.”

The four of them finished soon after, and Janus stood up, throwing away the used paper towels.

“Thanks.” Logan bowed at all of them.

"Hey, it's the least we could do, L." Virgil shared a small smile with Logan. At least they seemed to be on good enough terms to talk to each other. Janus was at least grateful for that.

“Alright, go back to class everyone.” Logan murmured, motioning for them to go away.

Janus walked back with Remus.

“How are you feeling?” Janus asked him, fiddling with his rosary.

“Tired.” Remus remarked, giving a small laugh.

“I know.” Janus murmured, “I’m sorry. I really want to help. I just don’t know how.”

“It’s not your fault.” Remus promised him, pulling his into a quick hug before he motioned to his class, “This is my stop.”

Janus nodded, looking down.

“Trust me, Jan. There is nothing you can do to help me other than being there as my support. And you’re doing such a wonderful job.” Remus smiled, pressing his lips on his forehead.

Janus blinked as Remus walked back into his class, and his hands went to his forehead, his heart pounding.

Why was his heart pounding? Why was his face getting warm?

He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. he walked back into his classroom, hoping no one else could hear his heartbeat that rang in his ears, beating faster than it ever had before.

-+=~=+-

Janus couldn’t get the little gesture of affection Remus had given his out of his head.

“Hey.” He nodded at Patton who had walked up to his after the bell rang for nutrition break.

“I need your help.”

“Not really the nicest introduction, but what’s up?”

“So I have a dilemma.”

“Is it the reason for all your pranks recently?”

“Yes, no, wait, maybe?” Patton groaned, rubbing his forehead, “I just need your advice.”

Janus sighed, "You have the floor, Patton."

"What would I do with that?" Patton remarked before waving off the joke, "Hypothetically, if you dream about someone and suddenly, they roam your mind 24/7, what is that?”

“I’d say a crush.”

“What if I never expected to like this person, and I barely know them?”

“That’s still probably a crush. Why?” Janus raised an eyebrow.

Patton groaned, “Because I had a dream about a certain someone and now they won't leave my mind. I am plagued with thoughts of them, and I don’t understand why I’m feeling this way. I’ve liked a lot of people, but not like this. If I do like them, it feels weird. I know I'm the boy who has all the answers to any emotions, but this is confusing. I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this, or why I can’t seem to stop talking about them. He’s like the bane of my existence. I’ve memorized the different shoes he wears, and the different outfits. Despite that, I don’t know what he wants to do in life, or where he’s going to go. I get nervous around him, and I keep messing up. I’ve just been going back to what I know in hopes that it’ll change things, and it’s not working-”

“You like Logan.” Janus cut him off, “If you’re confused, you like Logan. It may be the curse of the dream, but Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole to him? He’s clearly still hurt from the fight he had with Virgil, which by the way was only a week ago. In that time, you’ve managed to accumulate 30 hours of detention, along with the 25 you haven’t done. Logan’s stressed out, which he doesn’t need right now because right now, he’s helping me find out how to help Remus. I don’t really care what you do with your spare time, but Remus is my best friend and he is on the verge of dying. I want to help him, and right now, Logan and Virgil are the closest things I have to some sort of help for him because doctors aren’t giving him anything else besides medication. We’ve learned more from two high schoolers than five doctors with PhDs. Logan hasn’t been able to help Re because he’s too busy cleaning up after your mess. I suggest you figure it out.”

Patton stayed silent. He looked away with a little bit of guilt. "Gee golly, Janus, you know I never wanted to harm anyone with my pranks. I just thought that it was too tense and that everyone needed a laugh."

“Yeah, well no one's laughing. Not even you. Maybe you should rethink that thought process. There are times that need a joke to clear the tension and there are times where it's just not what anyone needs. This is one of those times. I’m not asking for much. I don’t even care if you continue with your pranks. But lay off on Logan. He’s not going to reciprocate any weird feelings you have for him if you continue to inconvenience him. I thought you two were getting better because you said you were going to stop annoying him. Just, let his do his thing with Remus first, and let me save my best friend. He is the only thing that has kept me sane, and he is the light of my life. If your stupidity gets him killed, I promise you with every inch of my body that I will kill you, and then get someone to revive you, just so I can kill you again.” Janus threatened.

Patton blinked, looking down at Janus with the clear height difference, “That’s not a lot of inches.”

Janus scowled, glaring at Patton. "Whatever. Just you heard my warning. Remus may not be the most normal person, but he kept me afloat throughout my toughest days. When everyone else left my side, he was still there to make me smile."

“You like Remus, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Janus scoffed, “He’s my best friend.”

“So? You just told me he’s the light of your life. You ask anyone else, and they wouldn’t say that about anyone, especially not Remus. Besides, it makes sense. Remus is your best friend and has been treating you like the only person in his life that matters since day one. I have a feeling that you are the only person that matters in his life. Why would you go for anyone else?” Patton remarked.

“What?” Janus felt his heart drop. There was no way. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no actual way I’m in love with my best friend. No way. Stop joking.”

“Speak of the devil.” Patton motioned over to the side, bringing Janus’s eyesight up to who had just walked in from the cafeteria to see Remus.

“Janus!” Remus smiled, waving as he bounded over to him. Janus smiled at Remus.

Pure Remus who smiled every time he saw him. Kind Remus who had lied to his about his illness to make sure Janus wouldn’t have to worry about him. Lovely Remus who tried everything in his power to make sure he would live to see another day with him. Outgoing Remus who had always prioritized Janus over any other friend he’s ever had. Weird Remus that didn't bother hiding his true self around Janus. His Remus who had Janus wrapped around his finger for every beck and call.

“Fuck.” Janus let the word escape his lips, as his heart skipped a beat. Patton was right and it was clear Patton knew it too by the way he smirked at Janus.

“How’s your day been?” Remus asked happily.

Janus shrugged, "The same."

"Do you want to get milkshakes after school at the nearby cafe?"

“I’d wouldn't love that.” Janus smiled.

“Awesome, I can't wait to stick worms into mine!"

"Whatever." Janus sighed. "I'll see you after class."

"Bye, Jan!" Remus grinned, "Remember to bring your dildo for yours!"

"Oh my god." Janus groaned, knowing he should've been used to the things Remus said. But yet, he wasn't.

There was no way that this was real. There was no way he liked the Remus Porter. He couldn’t.

It didn’t make sense. The two of them really didn’t. Janus was quiet, Remus was loud. Janus was closed off, Remus was open. Janus lied, Remus didn't hide anything. Janus liked hiding behind deceit and sarcasm, Remus liked hiding behind his intrusive thoughts and weirdness. There seemed to be no possible way to make it work, but in his heart, Janus knew that the universe had made it work. Now though, he wasn’t sure whether or not Remus would want the same thing as him.

-+=~=+-

Janus didn’t enjoy milkshakes very much, but he enjoyed spending time with Remus. He was also lactose, and he wasn’t sure that Remus remembered. Janus told Remus that he would share a cup with him, since he wasn’t feeling that hungry, and Remus had agreed upon hearing the idea. They had also decided to split a box of fries together, which was why they were sitting at a diner together, messing around with the condiments on the table.

Remus grinned, squeezing the entire ketchup packet onto a napkin, “Hey, Janus. Do you want to know a cool magic trick?”

“Not really.” Janus turned his head towards Remus, raising an eyebrow, knowing Remus would still tell him anyway.

“If you put your hand on top of the ketchup, you can feel it burning because of the chemicals from the paper.”

Janus scoffed, holding his hand out hovering over the ketchup, “There’s no way.”

“You’re right.” Remus grinned as he slapped his hand down on the napkin.

“Very funny.” Janus rolled his eyes as he went to grab a napkin to wipe off his hand. Remus stopped him to try and lick Janus' hand. It lead to Janus smacking Remus in the head with the hand covered in ketchup and Remus trying to lick his own face. Once they ordered, he made a mental note to wash his hands and to convince Remus to wash his head, though he predicted the latter would be harder to do.

The waiter took a bit longer before coming around to their table. “Hello, my name is Joan and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you two?”

“Are there any dairy-free milkshakes?” Remus asked.

“There’s banana, strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate. Which one would you prefer?”

“Vanilla.” Remus nodded, “Can we also get fries to share?”

“Sure.” Joan smiled, “First date?”

Remus grinned with a mischievous smile before turning to Joan and shaking his head, "This is actually our three-year anniversary to celebrate our relationship."

"Oh, congrats! Would you like any ice cream as well? Our most famous one is our couples' one."

"No thank you." Janus shook his head, about to correct Remus when Remus turned to Joan again.

"Do you want to know how we met?"

Joan, who seemed too tired to even properly hide his exhaustion, just sighed, "Sure."

"In the womb." Remus grinned, "Isn't that right, honey?"

Janus sighed, just pinching the bridge of his nose as he pretended not to know Remus. Of course, of course Remus would put them into an incestuous relationship the first chance he got.

"Okay..." Joan slowly backed away with the order.

"Wasn't that fun, Jan?" Remus asked as soon as Joan was gone.

"Definitely." Janus let sarcasm drip out of his mouth, not wanting to admit that a smile was forming on his face.

Janus didn't successfully manage to convince Remus to wash his face filled with ketchup, but he managed to take a trip to the bathroom to wash his ketchup-stained hands before the food came.

"You should really wash your face." Janus tsked, "You might get sick if you don't."

"Who cares?"

"Didn't Logan say that you were more at risk of getting sick and dying?"

Remus raised an eyebrow as he began to mix mustard and relish into the ketchup with a small fry, "You're so worried for me, Wright. This isn't like you."

"I didn't need to worry about you so much before." Janus scowled.

Remus laughed before offering the fry he finished mixing with to Janus, "Hey, I promise you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving this life so easily. God will have to strike me down and take me because I will go down fighting to make sure everyone has heard me talk about my thoughts."

“I wish I could think that.” Janus murmured, staring at the glowing symbol above Remus’s head, “I really wish I could.”

Remus gave a small smile, going to grab Janus’s hand, “I promise you, Jan, you’re stuck with me."

Janus tried to give a hopeful smile, “Did you hear anything from what Virgil or Logan has gotten from you?”

“No. Unfortunately, it’s hard without any idea who this ghost is. Virgil conceded and allowed his ghost friend to roam around and try to find this ghost.”

“Ah.” Janus sipped from the milkshake, making a surprised face, “This milkshake is better than I thought it would be.”

“That’s what I thought you would say.” Remus smirked, “See? I know my boy.”

Janus felt his heart flutter at the words. His boy. Janus was his boy.

“You really do.” Janus snorted.

With that, they continued to talk about other things. Schoolwork and more, and soon enough, time had passed so fast.

Once they finished with their food, Janus found himself walking with Remus back to his own house.

“What do you think the fates mean? Your power, I mean.” Remus asked.

“I don’t know. I hope nothing too bad. I see it on everybody, and even though they all seem like good things…I know they aren’t.”

“Like what?”

“Your sister and her boyfriend both had the fate of love before they split up. After they did, the fates changed.” Janus murmured, “I know that fates can change…I just hope that I can do it with yours.”

“Why?” Remus gave a small smile, “You said mine was on love.”

“Because you don’t deserve to ever have your heart broken by anyone.” Janus replied to cover himself, but knew deep down that he thought that same thing. Had he been someone who didn’t care about Remus so much, he would’ve let the romance play out. However, with Remus, it was different.

He was so different from Janus. Remus  had a pure heart even underneath all the weird thoughts he liked to say out loud, unlike Janus. Janus lied to keep himself safe. Remus let others know his thoughts so that no one would ever feel alone with intrusive thoughts the way Remus did. Janus couldn’t risk breaking Remus' heart. He didn’t think he could handle it if Remus was hurt because of him. Janus could break anyone else’s heart, except for Remus. His friendship with Remus was too important to lose in those situations.

-+=~=+-

“Can I tell you something?”

Janus made a noise, blinking as he shifted over in his bed. As it was getting pretty dark when Janus and Remus arrived at his house, his parents offered for Remus to eat and sleep over at their house. The only condition was that Remus had to sleep on the floor mattress  away from Janus with the door open. “What do you want, Re? It’s 3 in the morning.”

“I know.”

“Bitch.” Janus scoffed as he sighed, turning towards him, “Tell me what?”

“I’ve been having nightmares.”

"When are you ever not?" Janus asked. He knew that nightmares were the reason Remus had started to have intrusive thoughts in the first place and knew that as much as Remus tried to make it seem like it didn't phase him anymore, it still scared the shit out of him.

"I just want to hear your thoughts on this."

"Alright." Janus sat up and looked over to Remus, who was already sitting up. “What’s the nightmare about?”

“Ah, it’s someone’s voice I’ve never heard saying something. I heard it the first time the day Virgil explained to me that I was the body for a ghost host. I just keep having that same memory playing over and over again, and I can’t get the voice and eyes out of my eyes.”

“What was the something said?”

“A poem of some sort. The mark of death, the liar's breath, the special one, the favorite sun, the hourglass, and the impasse. The six destined to come across me, the six destined to fall to my arms. Beware, for, if you come one by one, not all six will come out when it’s done.” Remus recited.

Mark of death. Remus.

“Six destined to come across the ghost. It has to be the six of us with rosaries on.” Janus muttered, “But I wonder who is what?”

“Maybe it’s just a nightmare.”

“But you said you first heard it when you were wide awake. It has to be real.” Janus remarked. “Okay, favorite sun…”

“Virgil’s ghost friend, Roman. He was the favorite son, and he has clothing as golden as the sun. It has to be him.”

“A play on words. Nice.” Janus nodded, “Liar's breath, the special one, the hourglass, and the impasse.”

“I think you’re the liar's breath.”

Janus opened his mouth to protest but soon realized that there was nothing he could say against it. "Fair enough. Next one...impasse. Who is the most stubborn?”

“Logan?” Remus snorted.

“Yeah…but he hasn’t really been at an impasse. He always finds a compromise.”

“Well, we know it has to be Patton, me, Logan, and Virgil for the last four. We don’t know who the special one is, nor do we know the hourglass either.”

“I think the ghost told you our fates, and I think that we should take his advice.” Janus murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no way you can feel better if we don’t expel this ghost from you. They’re not going down without a fight because you’re a power source to them. We have to confront them.”

Remus’s voice was quiet to try and hide his terror, “Oh.”

“We’ll be with you every step of the way, Re. Don’t you worry about that.”

“What if I don’t want you guys to be? I don’t want you to get hurt, much less die.”

“I won’t.” Janus flashed a brave smile. He had to believe in it if he wanted Remus to believe in him.

Remus had a sense of disbelief in his voice as he laid back down, “Okay. Good night.”

Janus sighed, shifting off his bed onto the floor mattress and pulling Remus up again, “Come on, Re. You have to believe in me.”

“I don’t know. I just…care about you so much.” Remus’s voice cracked as he stared at him. The room was dark, but still, Janus could see the tears forming in his eyes.

“I know, and I care about you. There is no way in hell that I’m going to let you go through this alone.” Janus cupped his cheeks. He felt a teardrop fall down his cheek onto his hand.

“I want to believe you, but I’m so scared. I just…how do I know you’ll be okay?”

“Hey.” Janus gave a small smile, “You can see the mark above my head, can’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it the mark of death?”

“No.”

“Then I’m fine.” Janus replied, “And if you want, you can always come up to me to check again.”

“Really?” Remus murmured.

Janus wiped the tears from Remus’s eyes with his thumb, still cupping his cheek, “I don’t really like physical touch…but if it helps my best friend realize that he means the world to me, I’d do it every day of every hour.”

Remus let out a breathy laugh, “Well, no you can’t take it back.”

“I know.” Janus groaned, letting go of his face, “You’re going to capitalize on that shit. I already regret it.”

Remus smiled, grabbing Janus’s head to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Thank you.”

Janus felt his heart flutter as he climbed back onto his bed, “I’d burn down the world for you. I hope you realize that.”

“I do now, Jan.” Remus murmured as the two laid in bed, facing away from each other. “Good night.”

“Good night, Re. Sweet dreams.”

With that, Janus finally let sleep succumb to him, knowing that if he didn’t, he would end up staying awake overthinking every moment of that conversation. ——————– dukeceit is cute and also if y'all didn't catch the small thing i wrote about why remus is so vocal about his intrusive thoughts: it's because he knows that there are other people at the school that probably suffer in the same way that he does and he thinks that if he normalizes him saying weird stuff that it'll make them more comfortable in realizing that the intrusive thoughts are just thoughts and nothing more <3

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and are very appreciated. Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see the rest of what I have in store for this! :)

#the fate of the marked six #cw swearing #cw suggestive language #cw remus #high school au #sanders sides #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #remus and janus being best friends is something i didn't think i needed until now #fluff #janus sanders #remus sanders #dukeceit #chapter 11 #magic au #remus has magic cancer #janus has the ability to see others' fates #remus has magic sharing powers #i am running out of ways to tag this story

[teabreakpancakes]

Can you make a GN reader x Jack fluff? Maybe something about him flirting a lot with the reader because they get flustered easily? It’s okay if you can’t! Thank you though! <333 I hope you have a lovely day. I simp for Jack too much for my own good.

i too, simp for him.. a bit too much tbh

also, I'll write all requests unless I'm uncomfortable since writing is very fun

also, for the person who requested a fem reader, i'm sorry but i won't write it, i don't like writing for fem reader, i have already said this in my rules - lawless

How Endearing Jack x easily flustered GN Reader

Genre: Fluff

The hunter started falling for you when you visited him after his match with you, he was surprised to hear you apologising profusely, offering a tray with tea, some soup and a bottle of what looked like pain medication.

You slammed so many pallets on him, he was honestly annoyed during the match so he chaired you and let the other survivors escape and yet here you are, just as battered as him and still checking up on the very person that caused it.

He invited you into his room and that's how your friendship slowly developed into something you never would have expected.

when he first finds out how easy it is to fluster you, he ends up trying to get a reaction out of you every.single.damned.day

he can't help it, you're just so cute

does it during matches as well, he often terror shocks you just so he can carry you around the entire match, or he'll down everyone else and carry you around afterwards as if you're a prize

there was one instance where he terror shocked you and got a good view of your ass

he enjoys seeing the reddish pink hue decorating your face

will flirt with you in public

you can try hitting him to try and teach him a lesson but he'll only laugh at you

you may act annoyed but he knows you like his attention

the only thing you can do is run away from him but even then you fail because his legs are much longer than your own

you try to act like you're annoyed with him but he knows damn well that you love his attentions

he loves it when you try and fluster him back only to fail

Jack admires his new skin, putting his mask on before walking out of his room. He roamed the mansion, hidden from view as he searched for his lovely S/O.

He smiles behind his mask when he finds them painting in the garden, he didn't know what exactly they were painting though.

He snuck up to them, removing both the mist concealing him and his mask before promptly kissing them on the cheek. Their cheeks instantly flare up, they turn to Jack, narrowing their eyes at the tall man.

"Stop doing that!" they shout, hiding their face behind their hands.

"Never~" he responds with a cheeky smile on his handsome face. (Name) huffs, rolling their eyes at him.

Jack peeks behind them, eyes trained on their unfinished painting of him. "Awe, you painted me without asking me to be your muse? how could you not ask me to pose for you beforehand" he pouts, his tone dramatic as he turns away from them and crosses his arms.

Jack quickly faces them again, a teasing smile on his face as he grabbed one of their hands. Before they can even question him, he places their hand on the open area of his chest that the scarf didn't cover.

"Y, You w, wha-" they stammer out, jaw going slack as their face and ears get redder with each passing moment. Jack leans down, "I'd love to be your muse, if you'd like, I can pose in whatever way you want me to, I'll let you paint me nude too," Jack paused, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "But I'd like it more if you were nude as well—" Jack's mouth was covered by their palm before he could continue, "Not another word from you, y, you pervert!" they cry out, dashing past him and into the manor with a face that could rival a tomato.

Jack frowns a bit, he still wanted to tease them :(. "Oh well, I have a match with them today, they can't escape once it starts" Jack shrugs, his smile coming back, only for him to put his mask back on.

The hunter picks up the painting, humming softly as he cleaned up their paintbrushes, tools, and the easel, leaving a note on the painting as he did.

let me paint you next time, also, you made the eyes way more detailed than needed, ♡

Vera covers her mouth attempting to stifle her laughter, Jack tailing behind her as she purposely leads him to (Name).

She laughs triumphantly when he switched target immediately, chasing after you the moment his eyes landed on you.

"HAH, so worth it, have fun!" she shouts, earning a glare from them as they attempt to run away from Jack.

Eli snorts while decoding, Brooke was showing him what was happening. "Let's hope they aren't too mad after the match" he says with a soft chuckle, knowing damn well that Jack was embarrassing them and trying to slow them down with his... very inappropriate compliments.

#lawless.writes #idv.writing #identity v #idv scenarios #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identityv #gn reader #idv the ripper x reader #idv jack x reader #idv jack #idv the ripper

[cheerstotheelites-if]

Want to share one of last year's Inktober prompt, because hey why not since I got like… two laying around and left the 3rd unfinished and never continued the rest after. Woopsies.

Not Cheers main or side cast used for the prompt (I have 300+ characters, I gotta use the rest that doesn't involved making another IF somehow), but I hope you'll like this trio of siblings all the same.

Short prompts. Won't take long to read, so I'll just ctrl+c/ctrl+v them in a single post.

TW: Horror aspects, mild religious themes, gore, blood

Inktober 1 - Lantern

   There is always a saying in the Blight family that’s been passed down the many generations.

  Don’t follow a gray lantern, for Death will come to retrieve it and you.

    Legends say that one of the three aspects of Death carries the lantern as a sign of your impending death. A reminder of your last few days to come to terms, or to tell the news to your family so they can prepare your funeral. A merciful and depressing way to know that your time is up, worse than hearing it from a doctor in their office.

   No one has really seen this so-called “gray lantern”, and most just chalk it up as the madness side effect of the family necromancy magic from an ancestor in the past. The minority fear for the day when they’ll actually see the gray lantern, and have formed a superstition around it, which is to avoid looking at them. 

   Cynthia is one of those non-believers in the family.

   She never was a believer of the lantern or the many death superstitions in her family, despite being a person who dips her toes in the river of Death every waking day. Bullshit, she often calls it. Disbelief in the lantern is one of the many few things her and her older brothers can agree on.

   It’s one of those late night jobs again. Another exorcism needed for some spirit that haunts a local cathedral in a nearby small city. The cathedral itself is decades old, with paint peeling off and some pews that require to be varnished again. The altar at the middle front is made of marble, covered in cracks that were fixed in the past,and the huge, wooden, holy symbol behind it needs to be replaced with how rotten the wood has become (holes—so many of them). Cynthia adjusts the glasses on her face as she looks around, examining more of the innards of the church, frowning when she sees a cracked glass stained window. The window itself depicts the god of order Malkiel with arms out and rays of shining light behind him, worshippers kneeling by his feet and praying to him in reverence.

   Malkiel, always the one for loyalty in his disciples and nothing else.

   Cynthia looks away before she decides to make the crack on the window even bigger.

   Walking even deeper inside, the silence continues to deafen her ears. 

   Nothing. 

   There’s nothing.

   No sign of an unrestful soul roaming the halls or lingering in rooms.

   “By the gods…” Cynthia mutters and pinches the bridge of her nose in clear frustration. Did she just get herself into some hoax? She can already hear her Familiar scolding her for even taking this job without asking for extra details first.

   And like a thundercrack, the atmosphere shifts in an instant.

   Colder. Suffocating. Overwhelming.

   There's someone else.

   She has to turn around. She has to know. She needs to see.

   Her body refuses, instincts yelling at her to freeze and stay still.

   There is a danger here.

   An audible breath can be heard, closer than to Cynthia's liking.

   Her eyes stay casted down as a shadow slowly looms over her, engulfing her into its darkness. A lump in her throat now, hands forced to stay still from their trembling.

   It stops. Its presence edging too closely to Cynthia's personal space.

   Move.

   She needs to move.

   She needs to run.

   Run, Cynthia.

   Run!

   One step, then another. Her feet break free from its spell and Cynthia makes a mad dash to the nearest door. She can't look back. She refuses to now, despite morbid curiosity telling her that she needs to. Whatever that thing was, she rather not know.

   It dashes after her in shrieks and skittering, thrashing wildly with its steps. It yells and cries with such conviction in a chorus of many but remain as one—"A SINNER FOR OUR SINS. A SINNER'S SACRIFICE TO APPEASE OUR LORD."

   A hard left, nearly slipping on her feet from the old carpet that lay in the middle of the winding hallways. It lets out a shriek when it slammed into the wall, and scrambles to get back up and anew its chase. Why didn't she just run to the front door? Cynthia curses at herself for her own stupidity, but instincts tell her to run and stay away from whatever thing is possessing this cathedral. Logic be damned, she needs to get away, and that turns out to be dragging herself to her own—.

   Light.

   There is light up ahead, peeking through a crack from a barely opened door of an office.

   Someone else must be here. One of the priests or nuns of this damned cathedral perhaps can help her.

   Malkiel must be watching. How merciful of him, despite her disdain earlier.

   Etiquette and manners discarded for urgency, Cynthia bursts into the room. Hope vanished in an instant, blood running cold under her skin. 

   Empty. 

   The office is empty.

   She has mistaken the light of someone living, to an oil lantern that hangs in the middle of the room.

   The shrieks and cries grow louder from behind her.

   "Malkiel, you cruel man." Cynthia huffs out a laugh of disbelief.

   The lantern only grows brighter.

   Detective Anatole steps out of his car, staring up at the old cathedral with a grim look on his face. The station has received a missing person's report from Merripen, Cynthia's Familiar. He said that Cynthia should've been home at around 2 am from a job as discussed, and it was unlike her to not follow through.

   Of course, the detective knows of this.

   Cynthia is his younger sister after all.

   Letting out a breath through his nose, he shuts the door, and walks over to the police officers guarding the perimeter. He flashes his badge without a word, and is let through.

   He passes by the other forensic officers who are taking nearby evidence from what remains—mud trails, muddy shoe marks, disheveled carpet, fallen display tables—of a chase from the night before. Gray eyes scan around the area, searching for a lost restless soul that belongs to his sister.

   There was none, and he grows more anxious at the thought the farther he walks into the cathedral. Yellow tape is what comes next, a fellow colleague standing before it with a grim look on her face.

   "Detective Delarosa," Anatole greets as he walks up to her side.

  Luciella looks up at him upon hearing his voice, her grim look vanishing to one of professionalism. "Detective Blight." She greets back with a curt nod.

   They both look back at the crime scene before them. The office is surprisingly neat despite the clear body that lays covered in a white sheet in the center of the room. A shaky inhale comes from the burgundy haired detective, before he forces himself to look away. He knows very well whose body lays there.

   "You don't have to do this, Ant." Luciella tells him, voice low in sympathy.

   A forced laugh comes from his lips, as he looks back at the scene. "I have to. It's my job, and my sister deserves justice."

   Luciella says no more, only following Anatole inside the office with a small sigh.

   The two search the room, looking for anything suspicious or anything that can lead to who the murderer is. Anatole could only silently plead for his sister's soul to come out of hiding as they continue to search.

   Nothing. There was nothing.

   The white sheet was lifted from the cadaver's body, and Anatole can hear his own breath hitch at its state.

   It is mangled, covered in slash marks with caked blood, and gray eyes that are frozen wide. Some joints are dislocated, and a few limbs are torn in places. The abdomen is sliced open, a few organs spilling out onto the carpet below it, staining it in deep red.

   "Gods above…" Luciella mutters in horror.

   "Indeed." Anatole agrees, letting out another shaky breath and looks up at the ceiling to regain his composure.

   There hangs a lantern, glass shattered and flickering out a light of gray.

   A movement in the corner of his eye had Anatole turning his head almost immediately, earning him a noise of concern from Luciella.

There stands a figure, clad in light, black armor and a metal helm with a hood over it covering their head. A black cloak is draped over their shoulders, flowing down into a cape, and a scythe hanging from their back.

   That damned warning of his long dead parents comes into his mind almost immediately, his eyes widening in realization.

   Don't follow a gray lantern

   The figure lifts a finger, putting it where their mouth supposedly is under their helmet as they reach behind to grab their scythe.

   For Death will come to retrieve it and you.

~•~•~

Inktober 2 - Shatter

  What does it take for one to shatter their sense of self?

  Melpomene has seen it happen, watched it even.

  The Blights were never the luckiest of Magi, blessed with the death goddess’s gifts and power. A hellish one that is. It acts more of a curse than anything good. Who would want to be tormented by the restless every waking day? Wake up and see a wallowing soul in your corner trying to get your attention. You can hear them, feel them, listen to them wail on for hours, and hours with no end. Now, imagine that in an infested city full of them. There are those who are angry, yelling and shouting about the injustice they received in their past life while holding a form so mangled and disfigured. Twisted heads. Bones poking out from skin. Spilling organs. Torn limbs that hang from only a few muscle strings, exposing the innards underneath.

   It won’t be long until they snap underneath it all.

   Casimir is one of those many unlucky fews in the family.

   Paranoia and a panic disorder terrorizes him in his every waking day, leaving him a trembling and panicked mess.

   He’s the eldest of the Blight’s main branch children, next would be his younger brother Anatole, then the youngest Cynthia. She too would be stricken with a panic disorder, though not as bad as Casimir’s. Anatole is the only sane one amongst his siblings, if you want to call it that.

   Casimir wasn’t like this before.

   Many assume it was the family madness finally catching up to him.

   Melpomene knows it’s just more than that.

   She didn’t come into Casimir’s room one night to see him huddled in a corner, trembling in fear, and crying his eyes out until blood came out just to call it madness. 

   There is more.

   There has to be more.

   It’s morning again.

   Out in the garden of the Blight estate.

   Melpomene stands beside Casimir, his long, spindly fingers fiddling with the ends of the shawl wrapped around his hunched form. Casimir was never the one for good posture, always preferring to appear smaller than his height grants him to. His burgundy hair is unruly now, no more is it tied back into a neat half ponytail. Gray eyes, wide and alert, darting around in a diligent, anxious manner. The wiry glasses on his face are bent in an odd angle, one of the lenses cracked in the middle.

   He refuses to get new ones.

   Keeps the spirits away, he told her when she asked.

   “Mel,” the Familiar looks up at her Magus, who now focuses on a bed of spider lilies, “do you still believe what I’ve told you on that night?”

  How could she forget that night?

  Him on his knees, blood tears running down his cool beige face, hands tightly gripping at the skirt of her dress. 

   Then there’s the mutterings.

  Something incoherent. Something understandable. Something beyond mortal comprehension.

   “Nothing but pawns of blood and flesh in their sick game.” Casimir utters to her on that fateful night. “We were made just for a game no one can win. Not you. Not me. Not any other being on this damned planet. We will rot here for all eternity while we rest our fate on a damned child, forced to relive every hell brought upon us, over, and over, and over, and over—”

   Melpomene lets in a breath, looking now at the current Casimir beside her in the garden.

   “Of course.” Was all she said to him, hand reaching over to gently hold his own.

   Has her sense of self shattered as well for indulging in whatever horrors her Magus has fallen to?

   Perhaps. She’s not sure, and she rather not know.

   If he’s going to the abyss of his own making, then she too will follow.

#L's screams

[lyndiscealin]

Belletristica

Hi!

Today I want to introduce you to my most treasured writing plattform! It just got it's proper integration for the english community (it's originally an Austrian plattform), so I am finally able to promote it!

Belletristica is different from anything you know so far. It's especially neither Wattpad nor AO3, it's something completely on it's own.

While a writing plattform, Belletristica is also a fictional world. You don't need to engage with the lore of that world, but I would lie if I'd say it isn't engaging and fascinating.

In this world you can collect Fairy Dust through posting stories, commenting them and engaging with the community in multiple chats and groups.

You can find treasures and crafting materials and after a long day of exploring you can sit down in the local Tavern to meet old and new friends.

One of the most precious things for me is the moderation of the site. Lead by the fearless Fairy Khaeli, the Order of Knights watches over the Kingdom to ban trolls and spamers and to help the good Belletristicans resolve their infighting. They are strict but fair. Every case is looked at individually and they are not afraid to ban someone, if they won't stop wreaking havoc in the community.

You are safe here.

There isn't only one Fairy who tends to the needs of the community. There is a whole bunch of them, each with their own responsibilities and characters!

There are so many feature and so much to discover, I don't even know where to start. So I will let the site talk for itself:

Another great great thing is: The criticism settings.

Yes, on Belletristica you can choose between different kinds of reviews you want to get.

From Hobby (only positive feedback) to Fire of the Forge (let your readers pick your book apart until you are able to perfect it). It is strictly forbidden to write harsher reviews than the criticism settings allow - and it is discouraged to write much more fluffy comments than the criticism settings allow.

I never saw something like that before, and I am so so so happy that it exists.

Of course, everything has it's downsides, here are some:

The Tag System isn't too refined. There is one, but it is by far not as nice and exhaustive as the one on AO3

At the moment fanfiction are rare and don't have a good infrarstructure. Which will be changed in the future, but it is kinda low on the agenda. (Which might be a pro point for some :D )

The english community is small (which you can change!)

Some features feel (and are) unfinished. There are a lot of construction sides, a lot of alpha stage features (which work, but sometimes they feel useless because of that), but the main functionality around posting stories and comments work perfectly fine.

Back to the good things, though!

If all of that hasn't convinced you yet to join, here are some very good points:

There is an 'Underworld' to house 18+ stories (which is Austrian 18+, which I think isn't as strict as the American standard). Not because we want to condemn the texts. But let Maldeca, the Fairy of the Underworld, tell you more about that:

There are no restrictions to what you post (except for illegal stuff, of course, or spam). Which includes recipes, movie reviews, scientific papers etc. etc.

The community is awesome! It's not only a place to chat, but also one to improve your writing. Apart from that, you can found groups for any topic you like. In the German part of the Community we have groups for crafting, painting, chatting, gaming and much much more. The experience you have on this plattform is in your own hands!

No discrimination of newbies! The community is super friendly and loves to help new people out. If we catch someone talking down to anyone, they probably won't stay very long on that plattform.

There is so much more to come! More Gamification, more community enabling, group forums, picture uploads, belletristica's own card game (created with a lot of help from the community), collaboration features, belletristica's own Academy and so so so so so much more!

You can shape the plattform! It is a constant work in progress and the developers listen to their community. There even is a City Hall where you can occasionally vote for new rules or features, give feedback or share your thoughts.

You are 100% anonym on the plattform. If it's not enough that no one sees if you are online or not, you can very easily create a Pseudonym (or 10).

And last but not least:

Belletristica is the most LGBT+ friendly plattform I have ever encountered!

Please smash that reblog button! Let's build a community!

(I will gladly answer any questions you have :) you can find me on Belletristica too, of course, if you need help finding your way around: Lyndis on Belletristica)

#writing #belletristica #writing community #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writers and poets #writerscorner #writerscommunity #fanfic writers

[starlit-mansion]

or even the other purple guy, Michael Afton

First impression

"Oh, that's a funny characterization for the faceless employee... he's a soaps guy!"

Impression now

MY BELOVED. My scrunkly little wet cat. My sonsband. (This term seems worse out the context of it being in common use lol.)

Favorite moment

you won't die......

Idea for a story

*pulls out the 6k words of unfinished "afton kids all live and mike comes back to hurricane to reunite with his newly adult siblings 7 years after their father's disappearance to sort out his affairs now that he's legally declared dead" au from the google docs* alas... i hit a wall with this one and couldn't find a scope that did it justice but wasn't novel length *puts it away again*

Unpopular opinion

Michael Afton was never a security guard, he only showed up at Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental and then the franchise program.

Favorite relationship

Huge proponent for Michael and Baby being narrative foils... I will bang this drum forever. I think their parallels are WAY more interesting than his with William... Both of them are "accidental" killers, she paints this intricate picture of a party that ends with a terrible accident, she begs for him to save what's good in her from the horror of her genetics coding... I'm just saying.

Favorite headcanon

Mullet. (Okay, real answer, Mike went into a trade program after getting a GED and gets the repair tech job with CBEaR on his own merit without family connection.)

[renmemo18]

PAST TO PRESENT: PART 3

The last remnants of the summer came and went. The beginning of term was upon them before they knew it. Morrigan had arrived earlier in the day to help with the preparations for the arriving students. After checking and double checking that everything had been completed, she sat in the kitchens enjoying a steaming cup of tea, prepared by the House Elves. She often frequented the kitchens. By now, they knew that they need not check on her as often, and if she needed something, she would ask. She just enjoyed the hustle and bustle and the friendliness of the Elves. Being here also reminded her of a distant memory from long, long ago, it seemed.

"Come on, come on, come ooooooon!" She was dragging Remus by the hand as the others followed. "Dove, where are we going?!" James exclaimed. "Yea, where's the fire- Oof!" Sirius said, accidently running into her. Morrigan stopped abruptly in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit. Peter slumped against the wall, his breaths coming out in big heaves and wheezes. "You won't believe what I found while I was here this summer." She looked at them all, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, you have us intrigued," Remus began, his eyebrows raised apprehensively. "But what's so interesting about a bowl of fruit?" She let go of his hand, not even realizing she still had it in her grasp after they had stopped running. "Absolutely nothing," she said, walking up to the painting, tickling the pear. "It's what behind it that matters." She looked over her shoulder, a satisfied, mischievous smirk played on her lips. The portrait swung open, and her friends' jaws dropped. "Let's go." She said. She took Remus' hand again and led him through the opening. She could see Remus turning his head to look at the others behind him when she leaned in to him and whispered, "Aren't scared, are you Moony?" As they entered the briefly dark entryway, she could make out a smirk on Remus' face. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her close to him as he whispered in her ear, "You wish, Dove..." .

Her cheeks were hot, thinking back on this particular memory. She took a sip of tea, trying to regain herself. In a short while, she would be seeing Remus again. Although their last encounter was brief and somewhat awkward, she could feel that there was still unfinished business there. Morrigan had this... quirk, so to speak. Often, she could sense things that were going to happen. Not premonitions, she was no seer. No, this was something different. It was just a sort of knowing. A feeling of foreboding, whether it be doom, love, fear, or anxiety. It coursed through her in the days leading up to whatever the event was. She could feel something but couldn't put her finger on it.

As she had been deep in thought, she hadn't heard her mother come in. She sat next to her and tapped her gently on the shoulder. This snapped Morrogan back into reality. " Oh, Mum, I'm so sorry, I didn't hear you." Minerva stared into her daughters eyes. A hint of concern etched in hers. "Are you alright?" She asked. "Yes, yes, I'm fine." Morrigan replied with a small smile. "I just got carried away with my thoughts, that's all." Minerva scrutinized her daughter for a moment before she spoke. "Have you heard about the Hogwarts Express? Is that what's got you so out of sorts?" Morrigan looked at her mother questioningly. "No... what's happened?" Minerva took a sip of tea that had just been placed in front of her. "According to Remus, dementors boarded the train. Apparently, in the attempt to find Sirius Black. They went after Harry Potter." Morrigan's jaw dropped. "What do you mean, according to Remus?" "Well, he had been in the compartment with Harry when the dementors attacked. He cleared them off and sent an owl ahead." Morrigan stared at her mother, incredulously. "Is everyone alright?" Minerva tapped her daughters hand, then grasped it. "Yes, yes, everyone seems to be ok. I plan to meet Potter before the feast to be absolutely certain if you'd like to join me? They'll be here shortly." Morrigan nodded and stood with her mother. They both made their way out of the kitchens and headed towards the Great Hall.

Both of the McGonagall women had a soft spot for Harry Potter. Being her best friend's son, she had wanted to take Harry in herself. On that fateful day when her entire world changed forever, she was prepared to raise Harry, and her mother supported her one hundred percent. However, Dumbledore supposedly had his reasons for leaving Harry with the Dursleys, something that she still resented to this day. Her mother had watched them all afternoon on the day of Harry's arrival to Privet Drive, and although she expressed her reservations and the Dursley's unpleasantness to him, Dumbledore had insisted. That was that. Dumbledore also deterred her from telling Harry about her past with his parents. Why? She did not know. That was one of the infuriating things about Dumbledore. She trusted him to a degree. However, there was always a lack of truth, or at least the whole truth. When she expressed this to her mother, she was dismissed. Minerva McGonagall trusted and followed Dumbledore to the highest degree of faithfulness. She wouldn't hear a word against him.

By the time they reached the Great Hall, they could hear students arriving. Both the McGonagall woman stood backs straight and hands clasped in front of them. Finally, she could see Harry through the crowd and not too far behind him, Remus. She took a step foward but her mother pulled her back. " Madame Pomfrey and I will attend to Potter, and I need to have a quick word with Ms. Granger as well. Why don't you stay here." She eyed her mother suspiciously. "What happened to talking to him together?" Minerva feigned a look of pure innocence." Well, I dare say someone else might need some looking after, and I am confident in your skills." She briefly patted Morrigan on the back and yelled,"Potter!" Seizing him before he could make it into the Hall. She looked after them, worry etched on her face. "Well, hello again, Dove." She snapped out of her trance and looked to see Remus Lupin standing next to her, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Hello to you too." She looked him up and down at an arms length. "I heard you had quite an exciting journey, care to explain?" His eyebrows furrowed, and he shrugged his shoulders. "It was nothing, just some dementors overstepping." She jerked her head and began walking in the direction of her classroom. He followed, although looking reluctant.

They reached the room and stepped in, closing the door behind them. "What are we doing here? The feast is about to start." She pulled up a chair and pushed him into it. "Sit." She demanded. She flitted off to her store cupboard and pulled a couple of vials out, along with a goblet and some wine. She set them down on the desk next to where he was seated and put both of her hands on each arm rest and leaned in close to him. She scrutinized him, looking into his eyes, looking at his color, which was getting progressively pink, and the fresh scars on the side of his face. She reached up and gently turned his face away so she could survey them. "You're looking a little peaky, Lupin. Producing a protronus right after a full moon is no small feat. It must have taken a great deal out of you." She poured the vials into the goblet and mixed it with some of the wine. "Drink." She said. She walked away and went into a set of drawers she kept by her desk and pulled out a salve. She walked back to him and got on her knees in front of him, opened the salve, and began dabbing some onto the scars. Remus stopped drinking. He was gripping the goblet so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white. She tried to ignore this but chanced a look at him, his pupils were dialated, and his chest was heaving. She continued to stare for another second but then swallowed and forced herself to continue to focus on the task at hand. "Drink." She insisted, moving his hand closer to his mouth. He did, in one large gulp. She got up and put the salve away. When she turned back, he was on his feet, staring at her still. "What was it that you gave me?" She busied her hands by straightening her robes. "Just a restorative and some strengething potion. The salve won't get rid of the scars completely, but it should help a bit." He nodded, still staring so intently at her she felt as if she couldn't breathe. "Thank you." He said. "You're welcome." They stood in complete silence for what felt like an eternity. "Well, we should probably get back to the feast. Dumbledore will probably want to introduce you." She moved with haste to the door. She went to open it when her arm was pulled away from the knob and she was turned around. In one swift movement, her back was pushed against the door, and Remus' lips were on hers. Feverish, and full of urgency. His hands were on either side of her face, and he held her there. She returned the kiss just as eagerly. It was as if no time had passed in that moment. They were kids again, sneaking moments here and there when they could get away from their friends, lost in young love and promises. She stopped and put a hand on his chest. She rested her forehead against his. "I'm sorry." He breathed. "Are you?" She asked. "No... no, I'm not." She laughed, and so did he. "Good." She looked into his eyes, his hands still on her face. He stroked her cheekbones, making her blush. "We really do need to go..." She went to move toward the door again, but he held her there still. "Wait." He held her gaze, his eyes scanning hers. "What do you we do now?" Morrigan looked down and shook her head. "I don't know Remus. I have to admit, I'm confused about it all. I don't know if this is for the best." She glanced up and saw sadness etched across his scarred face. "But, I'm willing to find out." His lips broke into a great smile that made him look so much younger than the years had warranted. He swung her around, both of them laughing and kissed her one more time briefly. He opened the door for her and took her hand for them to walk to the Great Hall together, just like old times.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #remus lupin x oc #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #maraurders #i solemnly swear i am up to no good #minerva mcgonagall #professor mcgonagall #oc character #lovers #dementors #hogwarts express #feast #kiss #werewolf #potions

[cassurrjoybell-30]

Howling Love - Chapter 11

*Warning Adult Content*

Amille Laurent

"I can't believe you've been letting me win, actually you've been letting us win all those games, what if your uncle hadn't pointed it out?" Camryn asserted with a glare and I rolled my eyes again for the hundredth time since we walked into school together.

It was a typical Wednesday after the fiasco over the weekend with my dad and Camryn's dad, Alpha Summer.

I hadn't actually gotten the courage to actually explain to Camryn why Alpha Summer was angry or rather hung up on seeing my dad and I.

The me part was a bit blurred but with my dad, it was obvious.

They had unfinished business.

So I had decided to shove the whole issue to the back burner and deal with it at some point in my life but then since Dean and Camryn came over to check up on me and dad, they stayed to play a few games with me and my uncle happened to be in the area and popped by too, so he joined in.

That's when he pointed out what was my current dilemma with Camryn.

[Stop your whining Camryn, it's not good for your skin] I quipped in sign and he glared at me even more.

"I don't whine, pout or any of that weak crap. I brood choco-swirl and that's what I'm doing right now," he pointed out and I scoffed even if it really didn't sound out loud but he knew my actions.

[Yeah right] I retorted and he growled caging me in by the lockers with his arms.

"You know one these days, I'm going to make you blush so hard you'll be ripe enough to swallow whole," he stated and like clockwork my cheeks burned.

This was why I tried not rile Camryn up, he was unapologetic about his words, his actions, he said what he wanted and didn't give two birds about how anyone else thought of it, he was a brute, a complete Diva and a total brooding wolf whenever or however he chose and wanted to be, it was honestly cute.

[Stop it] I typed on my phone making it a low murmur and he snickered coming closer.

"You want me to stop angel-baby? Make me," he whispered back with a growl as he came closer and all I could do was helplessly look into his eyes, look away with my hands on his chest barely making a dent of pushing him back.

Let's be honest, I didn't really want him to move back, his chest felt so warm, it was broad and riddled with muscle that I honestly craved to just trace, like a blank canvas that gave you temptation to just paint on it, with passion but then I had to come back to reality.

[People are watching] I typed again making it a low murmur and Camryn just chuckled.

"Who cares? They know what to do if they want the same, find their own duck-face and cage him in. Make him giggle and blush," he replied, a low husky voice that caused me to shiver and I was helpless yet again, so I bit my lip looking away.

"So will you keep letting me win or will you play fair?" he asked again and I was deflated, he had just ruined the moment yet it still seemed I was hooked on him.

[I'll play fair] I signed back and that cocky proud smirk came onto his lips, damn his sexy self and alas I was saved from more torture by the bell.

"I'll walk you to class," he announced and I didn't want to get growled at again when he grabbed my books and piled them onto his.

[You know I can carry my own books right. Dean and Orlando won't even let me carry my own bag] I pointed out and he snickered.

"What's the fun in carrying your own stuff, penguin. I know you're more than capable of doing a lot on your but with those stick arms of yours. I'd be arrested for adorable moose endangerment if they were to see you carry all these books," he retorted and I was stunned, with my jaw hanging loose. "

[Camryn] I typed raising the volume for effect.

I also aimed to kick him but he dodged and took off in the direction of my class but I stopped, with a huff and a glare his way, I turned back.

"Sword-fish. Come on. I'm sorry," he yelled as he ran back to me and grabbed my shoulders whilst everyone just moved along to their classes others watching and giggling.

[Apologize] I signed and he made kissy faces with his lips.

"I'm sorry honeysuckle. I won't tease you again. Please. I'm sorry," he exclaimed pouting with a whiny voice in the end and I couldn't stay mad as he had pulled me in for a hug from the back.

"Please," he added and I nodded trying to peel myself off him.

[Fine, I forgive you] I signed and he fist bumped the air, with his free arm draped over my shoulder and pulling me in close we made our way to my class.

I hadn't actually paid attention or thought of Camryn sexually and I guess just that bit of curiosity got to me.

'And I had to admit, I did feel Camryn's member when he hugged me. All wolves are endowed but Camryn was ridiculously well-endowed.'

"So, we're here. We all... I carry stuff for you because I want to. I'm sure Dean and Orlando don't mean any harm by it. We just can't see you carrying heavy stuff when we can do it for you. You're not handicapped penguin. You're just too adorable to be working hard when you have us. Now since your teacher isn't in yet, sneak in a hug," he finished his statement and I didn't want anything more than just to hug Camryn.

He said the right thing, at the right time, I wasn't really bothered with him and the others carrying my stuff, I was used to it since my dad did it always but the reassurance that he didn't see me as weak, only that he cared, made me feel worlds better and the day hadn't even ended.

[I'll see you at lunch] I typed and he nodded handing me my books.

"Lunch it is my perfect-penguin," he supported as we parted and I turned for my class but before I could actually get in someone bumped my left side hard that I stumbled into the class.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," he muttered with a smile but that wasn't what it seemed like to me.

His eyes were hard and that smile showed fangs.

He was more of a predator in that moment than anything he was trying to portray.

[You clearly could see me but hey it's okay] I replied using my cell-phone and it earned the attention of many in the class.

A low murmur swept around the room just as a wolf from the lacrosse team stood up with a glare directed at whoever had bumped me.

"Yo Vincent," he called out earning everyone's attention.

"What?" the wolf who was next to me replied.

"Leave Amille alone. Matter-a-fact, back the fuck up," he called out with a growl shocking me and Vincent.

He had wanted to play the innocent one but it seemed his not so accidental bump had been seen.

"Hey I didn't do anything on purpose and I did apologize, Finn," Vincent replied with a hardened tone but that only seemed to rile up the other wolves as more of them stood up.

I couldn't understand why they were defending me as I was still a bit the new kid.

I didn't talk to the pack kids often only on occasion when I was with Dean or my cousins and most times when I was in art class where most wolves channelled their anger into beautiful art.

"I don't care Vincent, back off and don't repeat that shit again," Finn asserted his eyes showing just how much of a threat was in his words as the eyes of his wolf showed.

Vincent backed away as Finn came forward to me.

"You okay Mister Painter?" he asked and I nodded.

"Cool, let me take that, come sit by me."

Yet again my stuff was being carried for me and I was being ushered to a seat next to Finn under the watchful and overprotective eyes of the pack wolves in my class.

I guess it could've been worse, they wouldn't have defended me and treated me like I was some bizarre object, so I appreciated how they welcomed me, despite our lack of an actual bond.

I was still grateful and happy to have them looking out for me, yet I couldn't help feel the searing glare I got from Vincent when I turned to face him.

"Ignore him. He just can't stand not being center of attention," a wolf behind me exclaimed making me lowly chuckle.

I really couldn't wait to tell my cousins.

[elhopper1sm]

Susanna Kaysen x Age Regression! Lisa Rowe

Summary: After leaving the hospital and returning for her regular therapy Susanna comes to visit Lisa. She soon finds out Lisa has some unconventional coping mechanisms.

SFW Age Regression

Lisa calls Susanna "momma"

F/F pairing

Lisa Rowe/Susanna Kaysen

Susanna had just gotten back to see Dr. Wicked after her session. Life outside of the hospital was tight but great. She had just visited Polly and saw how much everyone loved the new cat she had brought in.

"Hey Valerie" Susanna stared Valerie down as she spoke.

Valerie stared back at her and smiled

"Yes Susanna?" She responded

"Uh is Lisa available or should I leave her alone for now?" Susanna asked

"Yeah she's been doing better now. She's in the art room" Valerie responded

Susanna walked all the way down to the art room. She was so eager to show Lisa the writing she was working on. And she couldn't wait to see her. She knocked on the door of the art room

"Anyone in here? Lisa ? honey? Are you in here" Susanna knocked on the door and had brought in a bagel with cream cheese and jelly for her.

After not hearing any answer she walked in and saw many very childish paintings of talking animals from Disney movies. She didn't see Lisa.

"Uh hey Torch have you seen Lisa? I've been looking for her everywhere" Susanna asked

"She's in her room. Yeah she's really quite lately. Ok the second floor" Torch responded

Susanna rushed up to the second floor and knocked on the door of Lisa's room. No answer. Susanna opened the door slightly to see Lisa sleeping next to a pile of coloring books.

"Lisa... Are you feeling ok" Susanna asked

Normally she'd let Lisa sleep. But she was super excited to see to show Lisa what she'd been writing. She also noticed a giant bandage on Lisa's arm. But she wouldn't mention it. Episodes happen sometimes it's nothing to be ashamed of.

"Honey.... Wake up please." Susanna lightly shook Lisa awake

"Mommy no. I want to sleep in today. Maybe we can go to the park. I don't wanna go to school...." Lisa mumbled in an infantile voice.

Susanna didn't think much of it.

"No silly. It's me Susanna. Suzie Q. Yeah I want to show you something" She responded

Lisa finally woke up extremely groggy. And stared at her. She was still stuck in little space. And she immediately grabbed a bottle and fed herself from it. Susanna looked dumbfounded.

"Lisa what the hell are you doing?" Susanna asked her

"Momma...." Lisa mumbled only semi-awake.

"I'm not Momma stop calling me that!Tell me what's going on" Susanna demanded

Lisa looked embarrassed as she had fully woken up

"You promise you won't be mad?" Lisa stared at her desperate for any answer

"I promise." Susanna told her as she kneeled down to look her in her puppy dog eyes

"Sometimes I feel little. I like to act small and do baby things to get people to take care of me. I know it's weird please be nice" Lisa told her looking nervous. Clutching into her stuffed bear for dear life

Susanna graced Lisa's chin and touched her cheek and kissed her forehead.

"Oh honey how adorable" Susanna responded "So do you really see me like your Momma"

"Uh uh. Well you're definitely cooler than her just saying"

Lisa said as she fiddled with her hands and stared at Susanna.

"C'mere Let momma take care of you" Susanna said looking at her

Susanna rested Lisa on her lap and combed her hair. She asked her if she wanted anything which usually involves coloring with her into hours for the night. She read her unfinished drafts to her and all Lisa could manage to make out as a response was to clap and flap her hands. As she kissed her cheek. She let Lisa play as much as she wanted to as long as she let her write in peace. Only problem Lisa was extremely bratty and needy. She'd knock over Susanna's writer supplies when she wanted attention or "accidentally" spill cups of juice. Her favorite was the I'm not touching you game. Susanna did her best not to get pissed. She was so in love with Lisa it just didn't matter. She'd do whatever Lisa wanted. Including helping her rest. Before Susanna left Lisa stared at her once more

"Momma can you uh next time you're over bring me some chicken nuggets please??" she stared at Susanna with her puppy dog eyes again

Susanna smiled at her and replied

"You have to earn that princess ok?"

Sorry this little ficlet is kind of lame. I was sort of thinking of this on the fly. Maybe I'll take requests or something not sure. Just send me anonymous asks

#girl interrupted #lisa and susanna #lisa rowe #susanna kaysen #wlw post #fanfic #age regression #sfw agere #femslash

[reddapologist]

Bloom - Rafael & Inigo

Rafael had, perhaps foolishly, hoped springtime would make things easier. Seeing their garden come back to life had been the thing he looked forward to most each year for well over a decade now, and he knew how well Inigo liked it, too. How Rafael loved their mornings spent together there! Sat arm in arm under the plum tree they had planted when they bought the house, white blossoms promising a good harvest a few months down the line. Both with a cup of coffee in hand, taking in the rays of sun finally strong enough again to warm their old bones, and the smell of lilac mixing in the soft breeze. On many such days, either of them would set up his easel right there to work on whatever unfinished paintings he had, or try to capture the colours shining around them directly, often spending as much time studying the other's face as he did the canvas. This year though, the melancholy normally reserved for winter had still not left Inigo's eyes by the time the azaleas stopped blooming. They went through all the same motions, their tried-and-true rituals, but none of it could shake that feeling which had come early last autumn and was determined to outstay its welcome. "Part of me is missing" Inigo had said to one of Rafael's invitations, "it won't be the same." What part, he did not know. Neither of them could recall anything that could have caused this change, and they knew each other too well to keep things of that sort from each other willingly. Now spring was turning into summer. Rafael had his bags packed, this was the time he usually left to find work for his bow and blade, returning after a month or two with gold to get them through the year and stories to spin into new tunes and paintings, and trinkets from each place he had visited. There was a time when Inigo had joined him on these trips, but they had not had anyone to look after the house in their absence for some years. He knew it did him no good to delay his departure, and they both needed their time apart. Still, the painter had not laughed as brightly as he used to, and since the last snow he had not finished any of his pieces. Rafael dreaded leaving him like he had never done before. Inigo found him there, on the rickety bench they had built between the flower beds, just after noon. It was clear he had not been awake long. "You're still here." Rafael took a moment to arrive back in the present. "I am." he replied, "It's harder to say goodbye this time." Inigo sat next to him, the wood straining under both of them. "I'll still be here when you return. You can be sure of that." Their hands found each other. "Maybe so," Rafael wanted to say, "but what else of you will be missing then?" He kept quiet. "Don't you have a ship waiting for you?" Rafael gave him a tired smile, finally meeting his partner's eyes. "No need to worry, I'll catch up. You've seen me swim, haven't you?" Both of them laughed. "I have…" Inigo answered, "but the last time it was more than a bath you didn't have grey hair yet." "You're right, though…" Rafael knew Inigo's laughter was exaggerated, but it mattered precious little. He was trying. "I should be off." He leaned in to kiss him goodbye, and despite his worries there was no unwanted finality to it. "Hoping for some good presents this year." Inigo whispered as they separated. "Of course." Rafael replied. "Maybe I'll bring home the Captain to cheer you up."

#writing #original character #english #october 2023 #rafael varela de leon #inigo sierra fuentes #d&d oc