#/gen a weight has been lifted off my soul

[mossytrashcan]

imagine: ur walking thru the sewers when u hear a squeaking sound from behind u. “AAH! a rat!” you yell, but when u turn around, it’s not a rat. it’s charlie kelly, naked and covered head to toe in sewage. he takes a bit out of a block of cheese. god he’s hot, u think. carlie smirks at u. “i don’t think u ment to say that out loud” he says and you blush. he smirks more and looks at u with his brown orbs. “lose the clothes woman, or i’ll chew them off you”

thank you. I really needed this.

#/gen a weight has been lifted off my soul #always sunny in philadelphia #charlie kelly #waiy why did I forget the acronym tag #charlie moment (I am dyslexic) #iasip

[phoebehalliwell]

hi how does the power situation work with all the next gen? i've been trying to figure this out for ages and i found your next gen fic and figured you'd have a general idea (or one that i like best). i know wyatt's twice blessed so he has a lot of stuff but chris seems to have prue's abilities and then paige's twins have piper's abilities split up between then. did the cupitches get any halliwell powers and what's melinda's power? (by power i mean like... special power, yknow, how the twins got piper's abilities split up) i know they're all capable of basic witch stuff of course

BASICALLY. i think i'm asking for a rundown on how powers work for the nine of them (henry's power is being real to me u don't have to explain that one)

okay so basically in my writings Wyatt has been stripped of the twice blessed destiny (which, akin to having The Source, is a power battery that augments and enhances and like boosts a witch's powers) making him now as powerful as a first born warren witch (read: hella powerful) but not a god, and then Melinda is also a proper true to form witchlighter -- leo was/is still in my writings a whitelighter so melinda is a proper halfling. i think those are my only major divergences from canon so okay!!

WYATT had the powers for telekinesis, telekinetic orbing, orbing, & healing but his main power is Projection, which is manipulation of everything that isn't. essentially, the ability to create something out of nothing. this includes energy blasts, which can be used to vanquish demons. this also means he can create things like, yes, dragons, or any other monster if he felt inclined, a full building, you name it. BUT. he has to have a full concept of how it works to make it so to speak. So Like. wyatt could make a car. but as he is not an automotive shop, he can't super make a working car. if he studied it and understood exactly how cars work he could, but he's not a car guy. if he were to make a car, it would run entirely off magic, meaning for long as it exists / has to run, he is being tapped into it and drained. so like he could create a monster or even a dog or whatever, but as he doesn't fully understand innards and the creation of life and souls and all that, they just wouldn't be real. eventually they would fade if wyatt himself does not release the projection

CHRIS is just your basic telekinetic he also has orbing and telekinetic orbing. he is an incredible gifted witch and a very strong telekinetic. right now, he strength lies in brute force -- he weight trains as a telekinetic, i wouldn't be surprised is he was able to lift gram's marble statue from witch prue is it anyway. i don't think he could throw it across the room (yet) but the point is he's stronger than your average telekinetic. his aim (magical) is also decent because his aim (normal people) is kinda dogshit so he usually has to use telekinesis to guide things he throws (e.g. potion vials). he's not exceptional as minute movements (yet) such as like stopping someone's heart from the inside, but that's just because he doesn't train like that

MELINDA is our third witchlighter and can orb, telekinetically orb, she's an empath, and she's a telekinetic. technically. the way her empathy fuses with her telekinesis actually makes her much more adjacent with a psychokinetic than a technical telekinetic (a place where i think prues powers could have easily developed had she not died). the main difference between melinda's telekinesis vs her brothers is her brothers move things they send out lil telekinetic blasts but it's all v external. melinda can actually use her telekinesis to touch/feel an item. it's not technically proper psychokinesis either because she still has to be in the location to get a vibe she can't sit in the parking lot and tell you where the light switches are in the back room of the building but she can sit in the manor living room and feel whether there are flowers in a vase in the foyer, she can tell you if there's a textured rug in the sunroom. It's kind of like echolocation, her telekinesis lays a blanket over the area she's in. If she's pinned behind a rock in the underworld, she can feel where the demon is (that one's extra easy bc her empathy gives her extra strong clarity when the thing she's feeling is experiencing strong emotions). and then, of course, her empathy is just kinda is empathy it's not super strong atm she has to be in the same room as, ideally within six or so feet of, anybody to get a really solid reading. touch is a main way she channels the power. if she really focuses, she can extend her power to about the size of an full american football stadium (lots of people), or, if they're hella spaced out, about one suburb block, but this is a major extension (nigh overextension) of her powers. with, of course, the caveat that strong emotions augmented by magic (like the demon of rage, demon of anarchy, shit like that) stands out to her quite loudly, she's v attuned to that.

TAMORA&KAT have a psychic connection to each other. that is specifically because they are both twins and witchlighters (tho that -light part is getting kinda distant). all of sets of siblings have some vague type of connection, like they would have able to tell if their immediate sibling is like mortally injured/dying (probably... like. in the same sense the original charmed ones are able to in the show), but since tam and kat are literally identical twins like one being split into two in utero like. they can communicate with each other psychically. this involves both like communicating thoughts (across any distance) and the ability to astral project their sister to them, provided that the sister is already open to being called (asleep, unconscious). the caveat with this link is it's only intact when the girls are at their standard chemistry. so, if their brain is altered by caffeine, alcohol, potions, medication, anything, their communication is thrown off. neither of them are on anything prescription, but if one of them were, there would be a brief period where the twins would struggle to communicate, lasting roughly four(ish??) months or so, until the link had reached it's new stable plateau if you get what i'm saying.

on top of that TAMORA has piper's blasting power and the whitelighter healing power. between her and her twin, they kind of have a sun/moon dynamic going on with their powers which is kind of funny bc in this said dynamic, tamora is actually the sun, even tho her irl personality really does not reflect that at all (yet). so her powers are all very like warm/hot/burning + a development soon be be related to light. so right now her powers are blasting and healing, which are loosely related in my mind because healing is inherently warm in my mind. she was able to practice molecular acceleration when she was a youngin but now she only has molecular combustion as that was what her power has evolved to by the time they were unbound again so that was the only part of that power she trained.

KAT is on the "moon" side of this spectrum, her powers are more for the activities shrouded in shadow (#tome). both freezing, orbing, and even her omnilingualism are all this kind of secretive powers, they're made to blend in and hide from detection, which, kind of like tamora's, sit counter to her current personality. also like her sister, while theoretically she possesses the capability for molecular deceleration, that is not a power she knows how to access at all. kat's strength by far is her freezing radius. she can freeze a lot of things, she can freeze very powerful things (not upper level demons quite yet but eventually probably), however, she is shit at the minutia of freezing. she cannot unfreeze people, much less body parts. she also cannot "hold" a freeze while moving someone's body (e.g. moving their arm so the gunshot misses would immediately unfreeze someone due to agitation of the hold/freeze). if she's fighting and henry is there she fully has to orb him somewhere else (usually magic school)

HENRY is a g

PJ&PARKER&PEYTON have some shared cupid-witch (cupitch) powers. the first is beaming, the cupitch variant of orbing. orbing is more thought based, beaming is emotion based. both are teleportation powers. since the sisters are all a) sisters and b) of the same hybrid species, they can sense each other in a manner akin to a whitelighter's charge sensing. they can get a loose read on their sister's emotions and the vibes of their surroundings if they really try. this limited empathy also grants them "cupid vision," giving them the ability to see both love and sexual attraction. love is a gauzy, hazy, fuzzy type pink aura that reaches out to others. If two people are in love with each other and in the same room, they will see one singular aura encompassing the two. sexuality is a purple-y electrical connection. If two people are both sexually attracted to each other, they will form their own sort of circuit. if a person is horny but not attracted to anyone in the room, electricity will just travel over them. the caveat with these abilities is due to the refractive (?? i feel like that's the right word?) nature of these auras you can never see an aura travel towards you bc it is heading directly towards you. the cupitches struggle to see love connections for any of their sisters because they all love each other so much they just have one strong linked aura between them. they can see if someone finds their sister hot, but quite frankly they don't like to check bc it feels weirdly invasive!! the girls can slip into cupid vision as easy as unblurring thir eyes, but if they want to see the auras more clearly/for longer periods of time they need assistance from their cupid rings. their personal cupid rings can also act as a small battery (akin to the twice blessed augmentation but way smaller. think aaa battery vs. car battery) and strengthen their powers if they really try to tap into the power of the ring.

PJ has her personal witch powers of levitation and astral projection. i liked their connection bc they are widely considered the prue/phoebe powers to be switched, so to speak, and i liked that juxtaposition between her mother and her namesake. levitation is levitation idk it's just what it sounds like. astral projection is similar to what we see in the show but since pj is no prue (yet) she cannot maintain limited conscious as prue could (her head down but stay standing state). pj has to fully conk out. her mysterious bruise games leaves everyone else in the dust.

PARKER has the sole with power of premonitions. she has no active power (kinda. beaming is debatably an active power.) she is the only one of the next gen to lack an active (witch) power. however, she has trained her premonitions well, she can get a premonition almost on command, she can recall premonitions by essentially using the emotional scar they leave on her to retrigger it. so like, it's not a permanently stored thing, but she can bring back a premonition usually for the present case she's working on. she can almost subconsciously uses premonitions in her hand to hand combat skills by anticipating her opponent's next move. since parker converted her cupid ring into a cupid athame it functions slightly differently. she can beam it to/from her. when she has not physically beamed her athame to her, it actually ceases to exist. it becomes a physical item once she beams it to her; it will continue to exist until she beams it away. when she beams it away, it actually become a part of her aura. technically speaking! this makes her a stronger witch that either of her sisters because she is (now) permanently tapped in her cupid's ring. but you and me are the only ones that know that shh.

PEYTON has telekinesis as her only active power. she's good. nothing to write home about, but not only is she the youngest of the generations, she's also just like, hella young in general. her powers have yet to grown in any way that marks serious deviation from the standard

thanks for the question! i love answering questions about the next gen they are so much fun ❤️.

#im sorry if this is riddled with typos. i am sure if will find at least one on each rereading i make within the next year #but yeah! #if anything's not clear or you're curious feel free to shoot me another ask <3 #charmed #next gen #charmed next generation

[btnclmrttn]

OH MY GODNESS, YOUR PAGE IS A TOTAL BLESSING FOR THE "OPM X READER" TAG 👏👏 LOVE ALL YOUR HC AND THE ASKS TOO!! You're so talented!! I was wondering if I could ask something similar to your latest hc ask? That, instead of a werewolf, it can be like a mystic tiger/cat or something like that? (LOOK, i've been watching lots of funny cat vids and i can't stop imagine like sai or gen holding reader in the mystic tiger/cat form AND READER JUST SCREAMING LIKE: )

Reader: "PUT. ME. DOWWWWNNNN!!!-" ヽ(≧Д≦)ノ

IM LOVING THIS IDEA HOLD ON I GOT U

(aight I'm thinking that the cat form would be about 1/3 of your size, so can be average looking or fucknormus. Also the transformations are intentional)

Mystical Cat Reader

~~~~

Saitama

"So...a partner and a pet all in one...okay."

Total cat guy, but that also comes with a price. He's just as much an asshole as the typical cat

If you're chilling as a complete cat he does fuck with you. Lifts you up and carries you to bother you, calls you stinky or related names, over-pets you, all of that

When you're not a cat he'll do the same sometimes just to poke fun at you. When he's doing this though, it's a way of asking if you can be a cat for a while.

Attempts to capture cursed cat photos.

Your contact image on his phone is his pride and joy when it comes to cured cat photos

He plays hide and seek/tag with you when he's super bored. A very fun game, but he takes it seriously. It can be fucking terrifying

Genos

"I don't recognize this breed in my database."

Very much unfazed as usual there's not an ounce of judgement in this boy's soul

As much as the guy is on the internet he knows all about cat memes and he will try to recreate them. He does like long cat

He got a cat photo of you to go viral once it was pretty cool

Is trying to get a lazer pointer installed in him permanently

Owns a cat backpack to take you around with him everywhere he goes. Keeps sneaking you in hero meetings

Saitama had no idea for the longest time you were also the cat and the person he was suspiciously hanging around a lot. Freaked him the fuck out. But he likes you too

Sonic

"Oh...this is news..."

Also like Saitama, just as much an asshole as the typical cat

Has definitely tried the cucumber thing

He does get you nice treats (real, nice meat) and some toys. Has to calm you down with catnip after he messes with you too much

You get even by laying on his clean clothes and getting fuzz all over them.

Has a spray bottle, but only uses it on you when you're human. Thinks it's hilarious until you turn back into a cat and start attacking his ankles

Always combing your fur when he gets the chance. Out of boredom sometimes but to minimize your fuzballs on his shit

When he's having a bad day sometimes he says "give me the cat" then picks you up and holds you, carrying you with him everywhere till he's calm

Garou

I like the idea he met you as a cat first and was really nice to you, let you follow him around and fed you

Upon finding out you weren't fully a cat it did catch him off guard. Eventually he warmed up to you as a person, but he initially thought you were spying on him

"What the fuck?"

He don't really fuck with you at all, actually. He's very nice and sweet towards you

When you're a full person it's different. He's always teasing you and calls you Kitty instead of your real name for the most part

Doesn't treat you any differently compared to your cat form. He still brings you food and always asks if you're coming along with him (aside from his personal missions)

Doesn't need a cat backpack you're a shoulder cat for him

Likes it when you sleep with him as a cat when he's sick or recovering. Less body weight and heat, equal cuddles

#one punch man #opm #opm x reader #saitama #genos #speed o sound sonic #sos sonic #garou #anime #saitama x reader #genos x reader #sos sonic x reader #garou x reader #caped baldy #opm headcanons #hcs #blonde cyborg #the four horseman of opm

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Given Up

by FF_Multifandom_writer_shipper

I wrote this instead of working on my summer work, blame Arcane for ripping apart my soul I had to get this off my chest This is the communication the two needed and never got (the explanation)

Idk how to write crazy characters (and I don’t mean that as an insult to Jinx bby)

Inspired by many Arcane fics I’ve binged read. I watched Arcane in 2 days :D my soul…I didn’t know what I was in for .

Idk how to write Jinx (x2), but I basically write her as if she’s given up because of all the constant pain, longing for sanity/normalcy

This is a divergent AU where Vi restrains Jinx (can we even call it if she just gives up) at the Dinner scene. She just glares daggers at Cait and spews shit. But she’s resigned. She threatens to shoot herself, just lets her arm limp pathetically with the gun down, no longer pointing at Cait, (“bullshit!”). Doesn’t point it at Vi, just sighs. Jinx gets sent to prison for 2 years, worsening her mental health being stuck in a cement box, but she gets therapy even if she doesn’t want it. She wants to feel better, doesn’t really feel she deserves it, and she doesn’t feel like there’s much she can do. Which leads us to now, house arrest. (I made this up on the spot)

Words: 3083, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Jinx (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends)

Relationships: Jinx & Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sisterly vibes, A Hurt Jinx, Communication that they needed, Divergent AU, Basically Jinx gives up, I promise you’ll like it, im very proud of this, Please read, Suicidal Jinx, Swearing, like heavy swearing, F Bombs, B word, BS, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kind of a self insert rant vent, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I know Jinx is OOC not very crazy, prob gonna add more Mylo like a little repeat “fuckup” bit, that he was right, but can you blame me, i need healing, This was so soothing to write and cathartic, like I’ve never felt happier, i just needed to get this out of my system, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest, I’m very picky with wording, oh god how has a show wrecked my soul this badly, since MLP nostalgia how am I so affected by this beautiful creation, this was so healing to write, I need to edit this shit to be exactly how I want it, Sorry bout the formatting issues, docs is a pain in the ass to copy paste from mobile

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

#ao3feed-piltovers-finest #a03feed-piltovers-finest #caitvi #arcane (league of legends) fanfiction

[dgenfanficwriter]

Healing Hearts, Forbidden Love Ch.1

On a grey fall morning, Mercy Beggings rolled out of bed for his morning workout, the remnants of a hangover clinging to him like a stubborn shadow. With a determined groan, he grabbed his trusty hangover remedy, a concoction of vitamins and caffeine, on his way out the door. The night before was a blur, a haze of music, laughter, and the mysterious allure of a sexy silhouette with a voice that lingered like an echo of an angel's song.

As Mercy navigated through the cool morning air, the memory of the enigmatic stranger played like a reel in his mind. He shook his head as if trying to dispel the enticing thoughts that threatened to distract him. His destination was the local gym, a haven where the clanging of weights and the rhythm of exercise served as a remedy for both body and mind.

Inside the gym, the metallic scent of sweat and the hum of treadmills filled the air. Mercy focused on his workout, the rhythmic repetition of lifting weights providing a welcome distraction. Just as he lost himself in the motion, a familiar voice cut through the ambient noise.

"How you doing, man?" Blue Braze, Mercy's good friend, greeted him with genuine excitement, delivering a brotherly tap on the shoulder.

"Last night was CRAZY! I lost track of you, and Voidz told me you were whisked away by a sexy stranger!" Blue's animated recount of the previous night's escapades brought a wry smile to Mercy's lips. The mention of the mysterious encounter reignited the fragments of memory that lingered in the recesses of his mind.

"Voidz has a way of making things sound more dramatic than they are," Mercy chuckled, the playful banter between friends easing the weight of the morning haze. "But yeah, there was someone. A sexy silhouette and a voice that could rival angels. It's a bit of a blur, though."

Blue raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, you better spill the details, my man! Who was this mystery man that swept you off your feet?"

As Mercy began to recount the night's events, the echoes of the mysterious stranger and the allure of their encounter became more vivid. The gym, with its clattering weights and buzzing energy, transformed into a backdrop for the unfolding story of an unexpected connection—one that started with a blurry night and would soon lead to the vibrant beats of D-Gen, where the dance between dominance and submission awaited.

Mercy chuckled at Blue's enthusiasm, feeling a mix of amusement and anticipation. "Honestly, I wish I had more details to spill. All I remember is this magnetic presence, the silhouette of a man who seemed to carry the night with him. His voice, though—it was like a spell, weaving through the music and reaching into my soul."

Blue's eyes widened with intrigue. "Sounds like something out of a romance novel, man! Did you get his name at least?"

Mercy shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. "Nope, that's the tricky part. Everything's a bit fuzzy after a certain point. I think Voidz called him Rezken or something. I can't be sure."

Blue's eyebrows shot up in recognition. "Rezken? The DJ who's been rocking the city with his sets? That guy's a legend!"

Mercy nodded, a spark of recognition lighting up in his eyes. "Yeah, that's the one. The night ended with a mysterious aura and a promise to meet again, but the details are a bit sketchy."

Blue grinned, playfully nudging Mercy. "Well, looks like you've got a quest on your hands, my friend. Find this Rezken and unravel the mystery. Who knows, he might just be the missing piece to your wild night."

As the conversation unfolded in the gym, the air filled with the anticipation of a tale waiting to be written. Mercy couldn't shake the intrigue that surrounded Rezken, the enigmatic DJ with the red hair and dominant presence. The echoes of their encounter lingered, creating a magnetic pull that drew him toward the vibrant beats of D-Gen—the place where the dance between submission and dominance would find its rhythm once again.

With a newfound determination, Mercy finished his workout, the excitement of the night and the mystery of Rezken adding an extra spark to each lift and push. Little did he know that the events of the previous night were just the prelude to a story that would unfold in the vibrant colors of D-Gen, where the dance of desire and dominance awaited its next crescendo.

Days turned into nights, and the cityscape transformed from shades of grey to vibrant hues under the neon lights. Mercy found himself caught between the rhythms of daily life and the lingering mystery of Rezken. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, the allure of D-Gen beckoned, promising another encounter with the enigmatic DJ.

In the heart of the club, the beats pulsed with an otherworldly energy as Rezken took the stage once again. The dance floor transformed into a kaleidoscope of colors, and the magnetic atmosphere drew Mercy into the vortex of music and desire. The memories of their previous encounter fueled his anticipation.

As the night unfolded, Mercy felt a subtle shift in the air, a magnetic pull that seemed to intensify with every passing moment. The connection between him and Rezken deepened, the dance becoming more than just a meeting of bodies—it was a merging of souls.

In the dimly lit corners of D-Gen, away from the prying eyes of the crowd, Mercy found himself drawn to Rezken in a way that went beyond the beats and the allure of dominance. The vulnerability that hid behind Rezken's dominant façade became more apparent, a silent plea that tugged at Mercy's heart.

With a whispered promise, Rezken led Mercy to a hidden alcove, where the neon lights cast a surreal glow. It was there that Rezken, with a mix of hesitation and trust in his eyes, revealed his secret. As the first rays of dawn approached, Rezken's form began to shift, his features contorting into a disfigured version of Pikachu, the iconic Pokémon.

Mercy, though taken aback, felt a surge of empathy and understanding. Rezken's vulnerability and the weight of his secret became a shared burden between them. In the quiet moments before the transformation was complete, Mercy reached out, his touch offering reassurance and acceptance.

As the sunlight bathed Rezken in its morning glow, the transformation completed, leaving behind the disfigured Pikachu. Yet, in the creature's eyes, there was a glimmer of gratitude, a silent acknowledgment of Mercy's understanding.

In that moment, as the first light of day spilled into the hidden alcove, Mercy and Rezken forged a connection that surpassed the boundaries of appearances. The dance between dominance and submission took on a new meaning—a harmony of acceptance and vulnerability.

As the city woke to another day, Mercy and Rezken faced the dawn together, their connection stronger than ever. The vibrant beats of D-Gen echoed the acceptance that flourished in the shadows of the night, and the dance between them continued—a symphony of desire and understanding that transcended the limitations of the day.

[codedredalert]

no lead nor steel shall reach him so [Golden Kamuy, Ogata & Yuusaku] -- gen oneshot

Ogata character study || 1705 words

A good marksman could swear blind that he knew a good shot before his bullet left the barrel.

Ogata was a good shot. The moment he pulled the trigger on Yuusaku, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character death, Ogata is messed up and regrets nothing, this is not a nice softe redemption story.

A/N: written for @narramin​ 

(On Ao3)

===/\===

.

      1.

Ogata knew the rumours.

Second Lieutenant Hanazawa Yuusaku is the eight virtues personified, they said. No wonder he was promoted so young. No wonder he had the honour of bearing the flag.

Perhaps Ogata knew the rumours best  because they were spoken carefully around him— whispers like prey rustling the grass, catching his attention whether he willed it or not.

He's  that Ogata's brother, they said. No, reliably came the disbelieving reply. Can't be, no way, you've got to be lying, is it true? It's true, the Second Lieutenant said so, though Ogata tries to keep it quiet. Ah, well it makes sense,  he's the bastard after all, isn't he? Hah, in more ways than one…

Sideways glances between himself and their vaunted officer, not nearly as discreet as the men of the 7th Division believed themselves to be.

Have you heard? asked First Lieutenant Tsurumi in a conspiratorial whisper when he had Ogata alone. They say the Second Lieutenant is very principled.

Yes, Ogata has heard.

Shall we see for ourselves? proposed the First Lieutenant, hand outstretched, an offer.

.

.

      一.

"Life is a long road."

Grandmother taught this to him in a voice that was light to mask the weight of wisdom in those heavy words. After Mother's death, Grandmother had never faltered in her duties though she grieved, going through the funeral proceedings with head held high, and seeing to Ogata's every need with reliability that Mother had never managed, though she had tried.

"The longer one's road grows, the more places to stumble, and for impurity to rest on the soul. With time, every person falls to the suffering of existence."

She used one of her wrinkled, gnarled hands to smooth back Ogata's clipped-short hair, soothing and pleasant.

"It is just the way life is," she said.

.

.

      2.

Ogata approached Yuusaku for the first time since the young officer had first called him brother, and the younger man lit up with such unadulterated delight that it sent a shudder of disgust down Ogata's spine.

He had to be faking. No one got that excited about a night out with their bastard half-brother. But as long as the Second Lieutenant wanted to play the good brother, that suited Ogata just fine.

Ogata led Yuusaku to the pleasure district, watching with amusement as the younger man's delight turned to discomfort, to embarrassment, to distress.

"Brother… I'm terribly sorry," he said, bowing. And he  sounded sorry too, as if it physically pained him to refuse Ogata's first tenuous offer of brotherhood. His sincerity grated, as did his refusal. In one move, Yuusaku had both undermined Ogata's objective, and plainly made the grave insult that— however much he claimed to want Ogata for an elder brother— Ogata's wants and ways were beneath him.

With the trap now useless, there was no choice but to let him go, and Yuusaku walked out of the establishment as free and upright as ever.

But Ogata could be patient. As the war went on— as the acrid gunpowder, piss, shit, and anguish seeped into them all— Yuusaku would stumble. Ogata just had to bide his time and try again, try better.

.

.

      二.

His mother was beautiful in death. She had hundreds of admirers from the peak of her career, and many a swooning painter had captured her likeness. A portrait of her had been gifted to them, and it smiled bright-eyed and gentle upon Ogata from the family altar as she never had in life.

"It doesn't look like her," he remarked, as he stood side by side with his grandmother and offered incense. He remembered his mother's back as she stood in the middle of a room for long stretches of time, silent and unmoving. Her profile, as she stared out the window, watching for a man who would never come.

The joss sticks burned down to ash, and Grandmother lifted her head from her prayers. She bowed and turned away, gesturing for him to follow. He followed suit.

"People see what they want to see," she said, once she had closed the door behind them. Grandmother was very different from Mother, in that way. She always paid attention to him, even if she was silent at first. He just had to be patient.

"Men wanted her beauty, so they took whichever parts of her they found beautiful and painted over all the other parts to suit their tastes. They did not know her character, the hardship she went through. The  geisha, the  maiko… they suffer greatly for their success. But it was our hope that she would have a good life, a better life than the one we could give her. Not..."

Heartache. Deep despair. The delusion that roused her from bed only to make the same dish, day after day: a desperate, futile offering to a love that didn't realise.

Ogata understood.

.

.

      3.

"Superior Private Ogata. It appears that Yuusaku is a more gallant soldier than we imagined. He's won over the hearts of all the other men."

Ogata let out the breath he'd been holding for his shot and lowered his rifle. He could read between the lines and take the orders the First Lieutenant preferred not to say explicitly. Plausible deniability and all that. It's why the First Lieutenant liked him.

"So you're saying we're better off not killing him, sir?" asked Ogata, reloading and already looking for his next target. He didn't need an answer. "Understood."

Ogata led Yuusaku wraithlike over the fields where gunfire and screaming had reigned earlier that day. The night was quiet but far from silent, the sighing of the wind an unearthly substitute for the dead and dying soldiers' groans. Yuusaku's boots scuffed the earth as he followed. He made enough noise that Ogata could have shot him at fifty yards, blindfolded.

"I want to see you kill him," Ogata said earnestly, pressing his knife into Yuusaku's hands. Yuusaku flinched and his eyes slid away, looking for escape, looking anywhere but Ogata's eyes, anywhere but the Russian soldier gagged and bound at their feet.

"Father said I have to keep my hands clean," Yuusaku begged off, as if the word 'Father' could invoke more authority than 'Lieutenant General' or 'martial law'. Ah, but Yuusaku was a beloved child, Ogata remembered, and this was him trying to appeal to the filial respect that Ogata never had the chance to develop for the man.  

Something must have shown on Ogata's face.

Yuusaku embraced him and Ogata's blood swarmed like locusts in his veins, eating him alive with irritating discontent and a curious, persistent thought.

.

.

     三.

Mother's death was Ogata's first. A lot of customs went with it, though Ogata didn't really see why. When everything was over, Grandmother paid a priest to come bless the family and sprinkle salt at him.

"It's for your own good. Death is an unclean thing, we don't want its shadow over you," Grandmother explained when Ogata grumbled about some of it getting it into his eye. Her voice wavered ever so slightly, as she smoothed the front of her kimono. "Remember to do this after I've passed."

Ogata buried her the year he was conscripted. He didn't get the priest afterwards. There wasn't much point, on the way to a war.

.

.

      4.

It was so easy to find Yuusaku on the field, even in the chaos.

Gallant Yuusaku, leading the throng of soldiers eager to kill and die for the emperor and their nation. Ogata could frame them in his rifle sight like a painter drafting a standing screen. Yuusaku, marked by the rising sun.

It was so easy that it was a wonder how the enemy snipers hadn't gotten him first. The waving flag begged to be targeted. Did the Russians dismiss him for having no gun? For never drawing his unblooded sabre?

It was so easy to line up the shot.

What would happen if— ?

Ogata pulled the trigger.

.

.

      四.

Birds scattered as he missed, taking to the peach-pink sky above the fields behind the family house in Ibaraki. Ogata took aim for his second shot, but the timing was already so far off that there was no point. He lowered his grandfather's rifle instead of wasting another bullet.

He'd been over-eager, moving too much, and too fast. The light was gone now, and he would have to return home empty-handed.

.

.

      5.

Yuusuke's distant silhouette crumpled. His corpse joined the hundreds of bodies on the battlefield, lost in the chaos of the regiment as he went down, the bright white and red and gold tasselled flag falling slowly after him before it too disappeared from sight. Ogata lowered his rifle with a strange sense of frustration and ran his hand through his regulation cropped-short hair.

There was a strange absence of something he thought would be there, and with that... Disappointment. Profound disappointment. Like the shot when he was a child in the fields behind the family house in Ibaraki and learning to hunt, the birds scattering as he missed.

Yuusaku crowned by the sun, beloved.

He'd been overeager and now gallant Yuusaku would be forever gallant, forever pure. The impurity of death didn't seem to stick, and now Yuusaku was an immortal nuisance and Ogata still had no answer to the discontent crawling on his back.

Ogata's hand clenched on the butt of his rifle, white-knuckled with cold. This was the first time he felt  bad when he'd made his shot, bereft of something out of reach, which could have been his but never would. It was a pricking irritation similar to missing a shot. Even though he hadn't.

There were no answers here. There were no answers in the dead. Not in his mother, not in his grandmother, not in this man who called him brother.

Ogata turned and First Lieutenant Tsurumi was there. The First Lieutenant smiled in understanding and nodded in approval, as if knowing Ogata's thoughts before Ogata himself.

The father who only had enough love to raise one virtuous son. Yes, Ogata could just ask him directly. There was no point thinking about Yuusaku any longer.

Yuusaku was dead. That was the end of it. Ogata couldn't reach him anymore.

Time to turn to the living.

===/END\===

(On Ao3)  ( patreon ) ( kofi ) ( paypal )

#ogata hyakunosuke #hanazawa yuusaku #tsurumi tokushirou #golden kamuy #gk #golden kamuy fanfiction #gk fanfic #gk fic #my writing #mine

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Fortune’s Rule, Part Four

And here it is, the final section of Fortune’s Rule! I hope you enjoy! I don’t know, maybe “enjoy” isn’t the right word for this story. You’ll see what I mean. 

Part One, Two, Three

Pairing: Damian Priest x OFC

Word count: 2,615 

Content advisory: smut, dark/ supernatural themes, brief references to drug addiction

The next night, you have a narcotics anonymous meeting before work. There are two new people and normally you like to know what spurs a person to come here, quietly hoping that one of them will have a story as horrible as yours so that you can finally confess to someone. 

You need to get it outside of you. 

Damian’s voice has been echoing in your head since you left him last night. Although he didn’t specifically say that this meant confession, you don’t know how else it would work. Would that even work, though? Just because you tell your truth, does that mean that it’s no longer locked up inside you? Or does it get locked back in and just hang like a toxic cloud over everyone you tell it to. It’s not like it’s safe for you to chance it. 

You know that certain people are required to keep your secrets. And technically speaking, you don’t know that you’ve done anything illegal. Immoral, yes. Plus there’s a chance that someone is looking for the money you carry around your body like a lodestone. 

You want to tell Damian. Part of you wonders if you even need to tell him, or if he knows your sordid story already. He knows something. He knew something when he put his face between your legs last night. He knew you had a bad story attached to you but he still said that you deserved to feel relaxed. 

What you want most of all is to see him again. Your body hasn’t stopped buzzing. Even when you slept- much better than usual- you dreamed of him, of his touch and dark eyes, of him leading you forward through foggy ground, leading you out of the woods where you’d been trapped. 

You stay quiet during the meeting, lost in your thoughts, and leave as soon as things are officially over. Often when you have a meeting, you’re a few minutes late for work because you chat a little with the other penitents. This time, you’re a few minutes early. 

It’s not a busy night, so you find yourself staring across the street, waiting for signs of life. They never materialize. A few guys hang around until late, one of them obviously trying to chat you up, but by about quarter to two, they go on their way and you can lock up. 

You drag out the closing process, looking out the window frequently to no avail. Finally, you have to leave in order to stop yourself from spending the whole night sitting in the dark and waiting for him to arrive. 

In a last, desperate move, you dart across the street and ring the doorbell. 

“Damian,” you call softly, “it’s me. Can I come in?”

But there’s no answer. You feel like he’s in there somewhere, like his dark energy swirls around you like a vortex. Nothing but silence. 

So you trudge away home. Tonight, your body feels heavy and cumbersome. The electricity that’s been coursing through you for 24 hours dissipates into a deep ache. You drag yourself to bed feeling old and broken down. Your ribs are sore. Your back is sore. Your legs are sore. 

Your head pulses and it feels like there are bits of sand or glass pressing into your scar, as if it was still an open wound. Sleep comes at you thick and dreamless. You’re aware that you are alone in the dark, steeling yourself for your monsters to approach, but in the end you’re alone, oppressed by the quiet and loneliness. In a way, it’s worse than the nightmares.

This is not restful sleep. You try to take a nap the next day but it doesn’t quite happen. So you drink too much coffee and spend hours jittery and anxious. You’re early for work again because you need something to do and you tell yourself that you can keep your eyes off the shop across the street, even though you know it’s a lie. Even when people start to arrive, you’re cutting glances out the window. Around 11:30, the sign flashes to life and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from throwing all your customers out immediately so that you can see him. 

Be good, you tell yourself. He’s there and that means you can see him again. 

A number of people pass in and out of his shop and you hate every single one of them for getting to spend time with him while you’re stuck here. It feels like hours before the place empties out even though it’s only one. You clean up faster than you ever have before and sprint across the street. 

The doorbell is answered immediately when you ring and you feel such relief when you step across the threshold that you want to cry out. But then it’s immediately supplanted by more anxiety. 

Damian appears with a thin bohemian looking woman, his hand resting affectionately on her shoulder. The look she gives you makes it clear that she hates seeing you there as much as you hate seeing her. Damian ushers her outside, leaning through the door so that you can’t make out what he says to her nor if he touches her as they say their good nights. 

He steps back inside, locking the door and heading back to the cash without acknowledging you. 

After a moment, he glances up, grinning and rubbing at his chin. 

“Another satisfied customer,” he purrs. 

You stand there, dumbfounded, staring at his pleased expression, wishing that you could melt like a candle on the spot. He fiddles with his cash register, counting out some bills and putting them in his pocket. Finally, he looks up at you, his expression confused, like you’re behaving very strangely. 

“Something the matter?” He asks casually. 

“I didn’t realize…” You’re at a loss for how to continue. It hadn’t occurred to you that there were other women in the picture. It hadn’t occurred to you that what he did to you was just something he did. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you had been eager to see him because you’d felt that something special had happened between you. 

“You thought that we were a couple?”

“No,” you insist, “that’s not it. I just didn’t know it was something you did for everyone.”

He laughs. “Well it’s not something I do for everyone. But if that’s what’s needed then it’s a service I’m happy to provide.”

“A service,” you repeat dumbly. “I guess maybe I should pay you, then.”

“I told you it was on the house.” He quirks an eyebrow. “You’re really mad.”

“No. I should go.”

“Stay,” he purrs. “Come in back with me. We’ll talk.”

“Talk.”

He pulls aside the curtain to the back room and leans against the door frame. There’s something feral about him, and you have to admit that part of what makes him so intensely desirable is that he gives off this untameable air. So you bow your head a little and once again enter the red-lit room where he first put you under his spell.

He strolls over to the bathroom and you see him swig some mouthwash before he comes to join you. Most men would make some effort to conceal what they’d been doing or what they expect to be doing with you but Damian clearly couldn’t care less. He walks over to where you’re seated at his divining table and places a long hand at the side of your head and leans down to speak. 

“I’m glad you came,” he whispers, his lips fluttering against your skin. 

He takes his place on the other side of the table but there are no cards, no attempts to see your palm, no crystal ball. 

“I guess I thought maybe I was special,” you grumble. 

“You are special.”

“You know what I mean. Special enough that you might want to focus on me for a bit.”

“Who says I don’t?”

“Ok, this is going nowhere.”

“Your scar is brighter.”

“What do you mean brighter?” Reflexively, you touch your hand to your forehead and are a little surprised at how the mark seems very cold to the touch. 

“It looks brighter when you’re hurting. It didn’t have any kind of light in it when you left the other night and I was hoping I did a good enough job to spare you at least a few more days of pain.”

“It’s just a headache,” you answer, noticing for the first time that your head is hurting quite a bit.

“You know that’s not the kind of pain I meant.”

“Right, you’re concerned about the pain in my soul.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Not at the moment.” The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes until something simply comes out of you unbidden. “I think I lost my soul in the accident.”

Damian raises his eyebrows as if he’s shocked, although somehow you get the feeling he isn’t. “Was the accident your fault?”

“No,” you tell him, shaking your head to emphasize your point, “definitely not. It was stupid that I was even around. I shouldn’t have been there.”

“So why were you?”

“I don’t know,” you groan. “I was with my boyfriend. I just sort of did whatever he did. I didn’t think much about it.”

“But he’s not the reason you think you’ve lost your soul.”

You shake your head, memories of the woods, the sound and the smell of the river, of how cold and wet you were, of how heavy the satchel of money felt whenever you tried to move, all those memories push in on you with all their weight until you feel tears leaking from your eyes. You hug your bag with the remains of your fortune, Cynthia’s furious appeals for help ringing off the inside of your skull. 

Your vision is blurred and so you don’t notice that Damian is in front of you until he lifts you to your feet and kisses you, his tongue licking the tears from your lips. You shouldn't give into him so easily, but it’s like his kiss makes you feel alive again and the heat of his body dissolves the heavy chill that’s settled over you. 

As the two of you pull apart, you see his eyes flash towards a corner of the room that has another curtain. 

“Is that the inner sanctum?” You joke quietly. 

“That’s where I sleep.” He strokes along your jaw, tilting your head back to face him. “Would you like to see?”

“Am I allowed?”

“You are when I invite you. And if you want to.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, more passionate and energetic. He guides you to the part of the room hidden behind the thick tapestry and gently pushes you down on the enormous bed which is practically the only thing there. He lights a few candles that are in the windows before crawling over you, one hand roaming under your shirt and up your chest until he catches your breast, pinching and lightly twisting the nipple as he plants a delicate string of kisses on the underside of your jaw. 

“You sure you want this?” He asks, his voice deeper than ever.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He slides your shirt off and licks at your nipples while he reaches down to rid you of your skirt as well. You kick off the worn boots you have on as he sheds his own shirt. You’re almost unable to move as your eyes hungrily admire his carved, tattooed body, but your fingers fumble their way to his belt buckle of their own accord, working with him to loosen it and remove his pants. He’s wearing nothing underneath and so you’re immediately greeted by his cock, a few shades darker than the skin of his body, long and taut like the rest of him. 

You lean forward to take him in your mouth, reveling in the earthy taste of him, the drops of precum that oil your tongue while you sigh and him around him. He lets out a series of low, lusty sounds before grabbing your hair and pulling you off him, throwing you back against the bed. 

The second your back hits the mattress, it’s like you black out for a second, it’s like you fall right back into your brain, into the memory of your night in the woods, so vividly that you feel that same buzzing sensation through your whole body as you fell asleep there, of how aware you were of the too-bright moon fading to darkness over your shivering form. 

Then you’re back in Damian’s bed with him, the steady flames of the candles putting stars in your eyes. The man pins both your arms with one of his and draws his prick through the soaked flesh of your sex. 

“You ready for this?”

“Yes,” you whine. 

He pushes in hard and rough, biting down on your throat and the insides of your arms while he pounds into you. It’s almost enough to be uncomfortable. Almost. You can feel the orgasm building inside you with every stroke and touch, building for what feels like an impossible length of time. It’s like your body is rising and tightening as it approaches the threshold of ecstasy like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Damian’s gorgeous body is damp with sweat but he shows no signs of tiring. In fact, it’s like he gains energy the longer and harder he fucks you. 

“Do you feel that?” He pants, his dark eyes gleaming, the candlelight reflected in their depths. 

At first, you don’t know what he means but then you feel the orgasm break over you at the same time as he releases inside you. But that’s not all. He continues to move and the feeling of your orgasm goes on, not in waves but at a constant pitch until you’re so sensitive that the movements are as painful as they are pleasurable. He too appears to plateau indefinitely, his sounds and movements increasingly wild and bestial. 

He presses a heavy hand over your face, pushing your eyelids closed. 

There you are under the moon in the forest, crouched on the ground. You’re staring at your own form, wrapped around the bag of money, taking shelter behind the fallen tree. It’s like seeing yourself while you sleep but that’s not it. You can still feel the pain in your limbs but it’s fading, your nerves going numb. You’re colder than you’ve ever been, freezing. 

You sit there and watch your unmoving body, feeling the sensation draining from it. 

Damian slides his hand down to your throat, squeezing lightly and bringing you back to him, just for a second. Then you’re thrown back to watching. And you stare as the body, your body, shudders and the air hisses from it. Blood drips from the wound on your head, onto the tree trunk and down to the ground, splattering the leaves beneath. You look into your own glazed eyes. They do not look back. 

“Where are you?” Damian snarls, his movements finally slowing a little. 

“I’m in the forest,” you croak, shuddering at the pain in your head and ribs, which feel like they’ve been crushed. 

“Where are you?” He hisses again, licking your cheek and nipping the flesh. 

The realization is like a blow. “Dead,” you rasp. 

His movements still at last and he lifts himself over you, his entire eyes black with flames trapped inside them. 

“Where are you?” He asks a final time. 

You cry a little, afraid of what’s to come, but finally you speak. 

“In hell.”

#damian priest fanfic #damian priest imagine #nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wayward wrestle writing

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Red Well (Part 3) Hearts and Minds

This is it folks! The MC is EMPOWERED! @rurifangirl

The smoke of liquid nitrogen was gone and people finally saw the true appearance of the holy skeleton. It looked like a crippled embryo. Its swollen head had a large single eye. What looked like a tail was actually a flesh-wrapped spine. Its ribs protrude outside the flesh layer, so it must have used these sharp ribs to insert into the host's spine and manipulate the body when it was parasitic. The holy skeleton did not die under the blade of Gathering Clouds. It twisted and made a "hissing" sound. The golden eyes flash at you, but in the glass capture chamber it could not touch any host that could be parasitized. Without the power of a body it was so weak it couldn’t escape through glass.

King General used a strong flashlight and peered through the outer layer of flesh of the skeleton. Inside the half-developed organs were faintly visible.

You could still feel yourself shaking, not only in fear of this thing and its hunger for you, but in fear of Ruri Kazama who was even stronger. Now you finally understood why Ruri Kazama offered to take you here, rob Herzog of the fetal blood and give it to you. It wasn’t just about saving your life. When you stared into his swirling pupils of red and gold, you finally grasped that this was about more than just survival. He wouldn’t stop at Herzog and Chisei. 

World Domination.

With you.

You have a nightmare vision of this unstoppable hybrid, killing everyone you know, piling them up like hay. Z understood his true nature. He warned you several times and each time you felt you had a reason to ignore him. His last words were “This one’s on you.”

You thought you were smart, strong, and quick enough to change and control your situation. But you were nothing compared to Ruri Kazama. Nothing!

There was only one way to free yourself...

"Look at it, how beautiful it is! What a perfect way to evolve! Before it was executed by the Black King, it actively evolved to live in parasitic form! It perpetuated its existence in this way!" The king pressed his hands on the capture pod and glorified the ugly parasite.

"Ah Excuse me!.” A voice from somewhere in this massive cave spoke up.  “..if the god is a parasite ...... then how does it help us evolve?'' 

 "It's not enough to find a parasite, you also have to find a host and food for it." The King smiled, "Only a very few hosts in this world can be parasitized by the god, such as Izanagi and Susanoo, but unfortunately the ancient descendants did not understand the great meaning of this parasitism and killed the god before it completely evolved into the new white king. It is not the god in this form that can give us the path of evolution, but the White King after the evolution is complete! We will see the new king ascend the throne and open a new chapter in the world!''

Pillars of light descended from the sky, enveloping you, the King General and Ruri Kazama in them. The helicopter's rotor blades cut through the rain curtain, a loud roar echoing through the well. It was a black helicopter with the cabin door open, and Gen Chisei sitting in the cabin, his long black trench coat whipping and flying.

At the last moment, Hydra arrived on the scene.

 Ruri Kazama, who had been silent, seemed to wake up from a deep sleep. His eyes lit up, and golden mandala-like patterns seemed to turn under them. He slowly lifted his head and looked up at the black shadow that had fallen from the sky, the gale blowing away the fringes of his Kimono to reveal his ribbed chest.

"Brother! Brother! You've come to see me? Are you here for my graduation?" He laughed wildly in the wind.

"Or have you come for my enthronement ceremony?" His smile tightened into a malicious grimace, leaving only biting ferocity, "With your blood to stain my vestments with your sacrificial red?"

Just like that, Ruri seemed to have forgotten about you. But he already told you what to do. 

Hide.

The ancient and stern language descended from the sky, just like the language of God echoing in the sky. The field of “Majesty" enveloped the Red Well, and tens of thousands of stainless steel wall panels fell off the well walls, pressing the king's wrath on everyone's head. The rules of gravity were forcibly changed. Everyone felt ten times their weight on their bones. 

You flee. You flee like you fled the soldiers in Black Swan Bay. The huge metal plates smashed down on the helpless Devil Clan elites. But you were not affected and you had the Sword of the Gathering Clouds to aid you. The super sharp master blade cut through the thick steal plates like paper as you headed for the safety cabins. You didn’t understand why you were spared Majesty’s influence. Was this payback for rescuing Sakura on the Tokyo Tower? Or did Chisei understand that you weren't exactly a willing participant in all this?

All around you the moans of the members of the Devil Clan were echoing. They were like souls trapped in hell.  You pause in your flight.

A young man had managed to grab your heel. His tears were pooling under his eyes. They were tears mixed with blood. His jaw looked distorted and broken. His chest was whistling with blood. He couldn’t have been older than you were, but he struggled.  “Help… me…”

Before you could answer a massive shadow loomed over you and a steel plate came down and smashed through his neck like a guillotine, sending his head flying clear off the platform into the well below.

This wasn’t fair. These were people. They didn’t know Herzog was bad any more than you did as a Black Swan Bay orphan. Again, your mind superimposes Black Swan Bay onto the Red Well. If Herzog had taken you to the capitol as promised, wouldn’t he still be your beloved father? Would he not have infected you with his distorted visions of evolution? These people were just trying to survive! They were all that was left of the Devil Clan. Everyone else was in prison!

What was the difference between them and you? They were just like you! They were being slaughtered like animals and they were just like you!

The Red Well suddenly echoed with a mighty roar that came from your wide open throat. It was plaintive and piercing like the cry of a lonely wolf or a mourning mother over her fallen child. It was full of sorrow but also fierce frustration that this shit keeps happening and you want it to fucking stop! Your throat stretched and rattled painfully. If you could stop the world with your voice, you would roar until your voice gave out!

Your eyes explode into a kaleidoscope pattern of black red and gold as the blood in your body finally takes full hold. Ruri’s blood has replaced your own. That blood was yours now and all the power that came with it!

Ruri was laughing wildly from somewhere in the cave. “Do you hear that brother! It’s just as it’s written! A rib was taken from a man and from it was formed into a woman! See! I can quote fairy tales too!”

Your hands seize a firm hold of Gathering Clouds and you spin and a dazzling horizontal arc! The secret of this mighty sword is that it could control the wind. One of the first emperor hybrids wielded it to push a wildfire set by his enemies back into them, burning them to ash. In this case, the sword produced a wind so powerful it knocked back all the massive steel plates. Even though they were heavy in normal gravity and ten times heavier under the influence of Majesty, this dragon-tail sword blew those plates away like they weighed no more than feathers! They scattered like dandelion tufts blown by a child!

There was nothing in your mind other than stopping this mindless slaughter. You didn’t care about the Devil Clan versus Hydra. In this matter, you had to agree with Ruri Kazama. There were no good guys versus bad guys. There were good guys in Hydra like Sakura Yabuki and there were good people in the Devil Clan, like Chime and Chance. The only evil that led both astray were Herzog and Bondarev. They should be turning those weapons on them! 

Chisei did not come alone. The heavily armed Hydra members followed Gen Chisei out of the cabin of the helicopters. They fired at the shaft wall with grapple guns and hung high from them, but Chisei Gen fell straight down. Kazama Ruri stretched the fuchsia-red sword in the air, Chisei’s twin blades made a dazzling ray of more than ten meters long, and the three blades fought against each other. The violent sparks illuminate the faces of the estranged brothers. Chisei’s  face is indifferent like a stone carving, but Kazama Ruri’s is like a bloodthirsty evil spirit.

Around them, gunfire and explosions continued. The Hydra Elites hung in the air by their grapple guns and pulled the trigger before they had even completed their fall. A hailstorm of bullets fell from the sky. The moment Chisei jumped out of the cabin, “Majesty” was lifted, but the engineering team and gunmen of the Devil Clan were cut down and suppressed by gunfire before they could get up and dodge. The Hydra elites were not going to spare anyone in the well. They were thugs among thugs, and now, even though they dangled from ropes, they hold their weapons as still and stable as professional assassins. 

A hurricane of violence had erupted in the Well of Bones. Ruri and Chisei’s blades were like lightning, the gun battles were like thunder, and you were howling like the wind.

You ran straight towards the wall, and then straight up the wall. Your face is like the mask of Medusa and your hair quivered like black snakes. You didn’t care how fast you were running, it wasn’t fast enough! People were still dying! If this were just up to you and just about you, you probably could have killed everyone in this well much more easily. That was how you were taught in Black Swan Bay. But now you’d been infected with a new philosophy.

The righteous philosophy of Caesar Gattuso! What was right mattered more than what was efficient. Human lives were worth more than the blood of gods! Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you cut through all the weapons of the Hydra members hanging on the walls. You were just as fast as Ruri was. Hydra leaders took aim at the Devil clan only for the muzzles of their guns to fall off and a strong breeze to shake them from the wall. You were able to easily outrun the bullets that strafed after you as you cut heavy weapons to pieces and cut them from their wires so that they would fall to the maintenance platform.

The surviving Devil clan members cheered as they crawled out from cover and picked up weapons to counterattack, and they aimed at the vital parts of the Hydra assassins, giving them fatal injuries while they were hanging in the air. But then those cheers changed to fearful confusion as this whirlwind of a woman descended on them and their weapons split in half even though they never saw you cut them.. “Stop fighting! Don’t you realize who the real enemy is?!” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own. It sounds like a mix of Ruri Kazama’s voice and yours, speaking double toned, like someone possessed.

“Traitor! She’s a traitor!” Someone yelled among the Devil Clan ranks

“Kill that Devil woman!” Came shouts from the Hydra elites on the wall.

Yelling erupted from every side of the well from both the Devil Clan and the Hydra elites. You’re suddenly enveloped by a hail of bullets from both sides who now viewed you as a dangerous enemy and united to fight against you. A rueful bitter voice echoed in your head. “Well, at least they answered your question. Their real enemy is you… apparently.” A strong wind burst out and the bullets of the Hydra and the Devil Clan shot back into their faces. Dozens of men on both sides on the conflict fell dead or seriously wounded in an instant.

You put one hand over your eyes. You cackled at your own despair. You couldn’t stop yourself laughing uproariously. Your laugh rose to an insane screaming pitch as you rose above the floor of the maintenance platform on a gale of wind like some sort of evil witch. “Fine… Fine! Have it your way. Tear each other’s throats and die here with no one to mourn you!” While you felt the evil of Herzog and the justice of Gattuso, you still had little patience for idiots.

“Leave her to me! I’ll take care of the rest!” A man darted forward. You could tell by his speed and the ferociousness in his eyes that this one was different. The sword he carried glow brilliantly as though it had been superheated. But to you he was just running like a child with a toy light saber. What mattered more was that he was a leader. He had influence.

You met him, but not blade for blade so as not to smash his weapon by accident. Instead you dodged while he struck at you again and again but you were like a ghost in the air. “Tell your men to stop fighting!” You say.

“I will not let you resurrect the god!” His blade suddenly burst into flames, extending its reach and sending a wave of fire at you. The fire ignites your dress, turning the white fabric to soot and exposing your midriff. Delicate white scales sparkled on your abdomen in the rain as though you were made of diamond. The man’s eyes widened in horror as you just absorbed what should have been a devastating blow.

“The god is already resurrected.” You tell him, your voice is shaking, pleading. The rain drops run down your face in a torrent. “You don’t understand its nature. I don’t think you can control it. If you don’t work together with the Devil Clan, you’ll never-”

Now it was the senior member’s turn to laugh. “Ha! Work together? Work with the greedy people who got us into this mess in the first place?!” He pointed the sword at you. His eyes blazing gold. “You’re just a child. We’ve been fighting this war for all our lives. Our sides were determined on the day we were born and I have sworn to follow my righteous path until I die!”

“These people are your family!” You scream desperately. “Chance’s real name was Ichirou Inuyama! He was Inuyama!”

You suddenly see his whole body glow like fire and his clothes burned away. Under his combat suit he was strapped head to toe in layers of plastic explosive! He’d prepared to meet a super-Devil like you or Ruri.

He howled against the wind. “DIE! DEVIL SCUM!”

Time seemed to slow as the raging ball of flame burned his body to ash and came towards you, and the roaring gale of Gathering Clouds bubbled outward to meet it. The force of the suicide vest was so powerful, the flames licked around your body, surrounding you in fire. But eventually, just as in the legend, the wind won out. The full force of the suicide blast flew away from you. Not only that, the blast was fed and accelerated by your ferocious wind until that fire  expanded into a fireball a hundred meters wide and heated up to nearly 2,000 degrees. It engulfed men and women who had thrown away their broken guns and pulled out knives and swords. If they didn’t have knives and swords, they fought with fists, feet, and bits of debris. They didn’t even look up when the ball of fire took them over and snuffed out their lives. The massive fireball left corpses and flames and devastation in its wake. 

But you didn’t mean it. You were just defending yourself.

A loud crash interrupted you before you could panic.  You jerked your head around and saw Chisei Gen standing under a shower of burning wreckage from a helicopter that was rolling down the wall. Gen Chisei did not dodge and it was too late to warn him.

 You run forward a few steps but the whirling blade that had broken off from the wreckage already chopped into Chisei’s shoulder, crushing the man flat to the ground as the rest of the blades cut in turn. Immediately afterwards, the crumpled black fuselage hit him and slid across the ground before finally crashing into the tall steel liquid nitrogen tank. Huge amounts of liquid nitrogen poured over the wreckage of the helicopter, frost spreading along the surface of the wreckage and rising up as a thick mist.

 The fuel tanks ruptured and the fallen wreckage was ignited. Electric sparks flashed and buzzed as if a thousand suns were burning at the bottom of the well, a wave of gas forcing everyone still alive apart.  Columns of light swept across the bottom of the storage well with columns of dust, fiery air currents and flying debris blew across the area.

The Hydra and engineering teams  of the Devil Clan were still fighting. They didn't even realize that the leader of the Hydra group had been killed in action. All of them were immersed in a great sense of mission and anger. No matter what the outcome of this fight was, no one could stop anymore. Even though you had the blood, the power, and the faith in justice, you felt lost and without any hope of victory.

You’re not even sure you wanted Chime to come back any more. Maybe this is for the best that he sleeps forever with his brother.

This was not Black Swan Bay. These weren’t little children running from explosions or cold-blooded men. These were adults. These people were choosing to kill each other. Even if they were deceived, they truly believed the deception. Even if you took all their weapons and tied them all up, they would still move and crawl on the ground in an attempt to tear at each other with their teeth.

The trap that Herzog had set was not this well. The burning man was right. The trap had been set and carefully laid in their minds and cultivated from the day of their birth. Just like the trap of the suicide pills. These people had to, not only choose to live and not seek death, but also choose to let others live and not seek the death of other people.

"So sad the end, ah... the family line that stretched for thousands of years, the guardian of Japan, just ended its mission.'' Herzog stands by the burning wreckage and laments in a poetic voice, "From now on in the world, there will no longer be any such thing as Emperor.”

"But no matter," he smiled faintly again, "Emperors were outdated anyway."

Ruri was strangely silent. With his brother gone, shouldn’t he be attacking Herzog?

Herzog hoisted the carrying case in his hand, the glass capture capsule is contained in that case. He has got what he dreamed of all his life. It is time to leave this well. You huff. What a magnificent bastard. He didn’t have to do anything to kill anyone here. Everyone was happy to do it for him, yourself included.

You stare at the sword in your hand. What a poisoned pill that sword turned out to be!

At that moment, a loud heartbeat came from behind him, like a sudden booming death knell, like something returning from hell! Hands covered in white scales pierced the metal skin of the wreckage of the helicopter, and crystal clear claws snapped around the head of the King General!

The flames in the wreckage sucked in and out, getting more and more fiery, as though something huge was breathing in the cockpit. Each time it inhaled a huge amount of air from within the wreck, it exhaled a gushing fire from it.

The suitcase fell to the ground. The King kicked and struggled. Not only is the pressure on that sharp claw increasing, but the sound of breathing was taking on a threatening aura. Kazama Ruri didn't move. Those dull, soulless eyes lit up again, and he watched with interest as the claw slowly tightened. The king's mask was crumbling, blood dripping down from the cracks.

The wreckage suddenly burst apart! The few people who approached the wreckage were immediately killed by the flying flames and debris.

Out of the firelight came the dazzling white shadow, someone who could no longer be called human. He was such a beautiful and hideous creature. He possessed gnarled muscles and rippling sinews that proclaimed what power was in this incredible body. The surface of the scales of his skin were like golden-red brocade in the firelight. The skin on his back split open. Slender bones opened up. Bloody wings stretched themselves out for the first time He was drenched in blood from this wing beat but the wounds on his back healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, after which the fierce and savage back muscles bulged.

The exoskeleton-encircled face could no longer smile or frown, and the newborn Chisei breathed up into the sky with a windy roar in his throat.

He was something between an angel and a devil, a mistake that should not have been made in this world.

 "Dragon's blood! You ...... you used dragon's blood?!" The General exclaimed.

Chisei’s voice was deep and echoing. "Yes, as an emperor, I can't kill you, but as a ghost, I can surpass the limits of an emperor." He said softly, "I've been a ghost slayer all my life, yet I didn't understand until this moment why those ghosts crave for power.''

He looked up at the dark night sky, rain pattering on that hard face: "When there is already boundless darkness where you are, how can you not fly to the flame?"

You gasp. Those words. Not those words! Those are Herzog’s words! Why was Chisei quoting the words of the dying Devil Clan? You reach out your hand. And then stop.  With a slight popping sound, the skull of Herzog broke like a water pipe. He threw the King's body on the ground and lowered his emperor-like golden eyes to observe. The corpse never moved a single bit.

The King surprisingly just died. And suddenly everything made sense. You were too occupied to think about it before. Didn’t Chisei fall helplessly before Ruri Kazama just hours ago? Didn’t Chisei always save Majesty to the end of the battle as an escape plan because it rendered him as helpless as a newborn kitten? In this instance, he’d thrown it out at the beginning! But he suffered no side effects. He wanted to kill Ruri Kazama so badly that he went against his own morals and principles.

Morals and principals were so troublesome. You think to yourself bitterly. They get in the way of efficiency. 

After what you’d seen of Ruri Kazama and after what you’d seen of the god. You didn’t believe you could survive here much longer and you didn’t think Chisei would win. It was best to escape while these two musclebound idiots solved their differences. Knowing them… they’d kill each other and you never got in the way of that before, and bitterly decide not to get in the way of that again.

Since Chisei didn’t suffer any from using his Soul Skill you decide to use your own Soul Skill. You press your foot to the ground and let the spiritual roots take hold without reservation. Mental filaments spread like vines and touch every part of the Red Well until you feel like you wear it as a second skin. You needed a way out. Then you could bury this place in magma. The magma wasn’t far from here. After all, it fed the god that caused all this. You would simply return it to its place.

A strange signature, like three footsteps, catches your attention. Someone had walked up near the rim of the well close to the machinery lift platform. You can’t see anyone, but they’re there. Who could be up there?

Your heart suddenly leaps into your throat and your memory throws up the scene on Tokyo Tower of Ruri beheading and then severing the body of the King in two only for it to pop up again in a second place! The person standing up on the platform was likely the real King! This body is a fake!

“Ha!” You snarl and take the Heavenly Cloud blade and strike the ground. It summons a huge tornado that lifts you off like a rocket. You really did have wings and you were going to  pounce on this King creature like and eagle and kill him for real. 

But this man was always prepared. What would he have for you? Bombs? Hah. Deadpool? Hah! There was nothing that could save him!

When you approach the rim of the well, it’s too late that you see the fine nano-fiber mesh that surrounds it. It wraps around you like a spiderweb, and clings tight as you collide with it and push with forward momentum. The Sword of Gathering Clouds slips from your grasp and goes falling back towards the well. Immediately your upward momentum comes crashing down onto the flat land that surrounds the Red Well and you roll several feet before coming to a stop next to an armored boot. Your hands are bound, your legs are bound. The nanofibers are crushing into your skin.

You stare up into the sky and a pistol is pointed right at your forehead. Herzog’s masked face comes into view. He waggles his fingers in greeting. “Hello.”

#Dragon Raja

[wajjs]

Hey Blob! So I noticed that the first prompt on the list you posted (you faked your death and ate all my cereal) was definitely channeling Dick Grayson. Maybe jaydick or gen with any preferred character please:)

“Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

-

wound that makes you scream

  Tomorrow’s the anniversary, that is all Dick can think of as he goes through the rest of the day - as he finishes his coffee, while he starts getting ready, when he’s running and leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Tomorrow’s the anniversary of both Batman and Bruce’s greatest mistake, the one that was the final thing to send him down spiraling, to have the man crash down. And down. And down. Not even rock bottom had been enough.

  Because three years ago Bruce, not enough Batman, had been demanded to make a choice, put right in between the sword and the wall, and he had acted. He had acted, only for everything to crash in right over his head. The wound, the blood, the explosion. The laughter, the silence, the absence. The trail of crimson, the hint, the void. Nothing left behind.

  Like the miracle that had turned into a nightmare to then promptly go up in smoke and mirages. Like he had never been there, he had never come back, like- like-

  They have the proof, though. The empty, destroyed coffin. The DNA samples. They have everything to know, to be sure, that he was as real as he could be and now he’s all gone and it’s all…

  It’s Bruce’s fault.

  He sighs, stopping next to a ledge and looking out over the buildings around him. For once, the night holds no threat of rain and the wind carries no ungodly stench. Even the activity is surprisingly low, calm, something he’d comment on if he didn’t fear the real threat of jinxing it. He still allows himself one moment, just one moment, and sits right on the border of the ledge, lets his legs hang over it, feet facing the deadly drop.

  Bruce has yet to recover. He’s yet to be anywhere near a semblance of what he once was. Not even Tim, god, poor young and hopeful Tim, not even his passion and stubbornness were enough to make the old man move on. Dick doubts anything will ever be enough. Dick doubts he himself will ever be able to make himself understand why Bruce did that, why did he-

  His comm comes to life just then, making him sit up just a tad bit straighter, bracing himself for movement once more.

  “You should head home,” Tim speaks clearly, no rush to his words, “everything’s quiet. A and I will keep an eye on B tonight.”

  It’s what they always do when that date rears its ugly head upon them. He still nods, swallows past the sudden knot in his throat.

  “Alright,” he says, stands up and stretches his arms over his head, “I’ll keep my comm on just in case. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “I will,” Tim promises even though they both know it’s unlikely any call will be made. With that, the communication ends.

  No one is a fan of words in the eve of Jason Todd’s second death.

-

  With his thoughts all scrambled, filled with memories, regrets and crushed dreams, Dick slides into his apartment from the window. There is no need to turn on the lights as he reactivates all the locks and security measures, and no need to stop himself from sagging under his own weight as he peels off his mask, starts working on the top of his costume. His instincts only come back online when he’s two steps into the living room, fluorescent glow coming from the kitchen’s open door. 

  Dick doesn’t stop to think. He picks up his escrima sticks, activates them, and with silent steps walks towards the entrance. He sure as hell hopes upon hope it’s one of his old Titans teammates, or a friend, because he does not want to fight right now, he is in no mood, his heart is gone, six feet under, right where the tomb of his lost- of, of Jaybird is.

  And maybe it’s because he’s so deep in longing and grief that his eyes trick him in such a painful way. Because he slides into the kitchen to be face to face with a young man sitting on the counter, bowl of cereal in his hands, spoon halfway to his mouth. Because the young man has the same features of the one he’s missing, the same eyes, the same lips, the same eyebrows. Everything is a carbon copy of him and Dick discovers right then and there that he can’t handle any more heartbreak. He can’t take any more of it. He’s had enough.

   “Who are you?,” he makes himself ask, feels his chest seizing, throat constricting, and it’s a herculean task to keep himself pulled together. “How did you get in here?”

  The man blinks once, twice, begins to frown in confusion as he sets the bowl next to his thigh on the counter, licks away any remaining of milk and cereal from his lips. Dick braces himself for the sound of his voice, fearing that it will sound just like Jason’s, but it never comes. The voice never comes. Instead, the man lets out the smallest of sighs before lifting his hands, signing away with ease that betrays lots of practice.

  You don’t recognize me?, the man asks with a barely there hint of a pout, Thought you’d be thrilled to see me.

  “Answer me!,” he demands, giving another step forward and shifting into a fighting stance. This is too much. “Who are you!”

  It’s me, dumbass, the other’s hands move fast, almost too fast for Dick to fully finish understanding the signs, I’m Jason.

  “That’s-,” he has to swallow, clearing his throat because that, that is impossible, isn’t it? They all believed him dead. Again. Bruce himself showed them the video recording from the cowl. No one could survive that kind of cut to the throat. No one, no one, but… but… “No,” he breathes out, shaking, “no, you died.”

  I didn’t, with a small smile, the man, no, Jason? God, Jason, stands up, looking at Dick in the eyes, I mean, I did, once, but I came back and you were there. Or you forgot?

  He doesn’t- of course he didn’t! But if he’s here, then, then.

  By the way, Jason, it’s really him, Dick feels a whole lot like screaming, even more like crying, you ran out of cereal. I invited myself to some but it was barely enough for a single bowl.

  Dropping his escrima sticks to the ground, Dick allows himself the luxury of laughing. Laughing till there are tears in his eyes and the rattling in his chest has gone full bomb, about to explode and curse everyone in the immediate blast radius. His hands close into fists, his whole body is moving and next thing he knows he’s got Jason trapped against the counter, one hand closed tightly around the neck of his red sweater, the other raised, ready to strike.

  Dude, Jason snorts, eyes impossibly clear, pinning Dick to his place, it’s just cereal. Don’t be mad.

  “Don’t be mad?!,” he yells out, mildly succumbing to hysterics. “Why wouldn’t I be mad that you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years?! Three fucking years, Jason!! Do you know what it did to Bruce? What it did to me?!”

  I’m sorry, in the small space between them, Jason barely has room to sign properly between their faces. His expression is sad and haunted, and filled with just too much regret. I needed time. To heal. And. To accept.

  “Accept what!,” he knows he should probably pull away, bring his voice back to decent levels, but he can’t, not when everything feels too surreal, when air escapes him to never return. “Accept what!”

  That B would hurt me like this, Jason says, thumb hovering over the thick, gnarly scar crossing his throat, That I cannot speak anymore. That I needed to learn. Learn how to communicate again.

-

  It’s been three years. Three years since the return and the loss of the prodigal son.

  Dick still needs to gather his thoughts, his heart, hell, maybe even his soul. But one thing is clear. On the third year, he’s the one guiding Jason back home. Hand in hand, step by step. And this time, he’ll make sure there won’t be any more harm to come.

#blob writes #jaydick #dickjay #mute!jason #epistemologicals #thank you for the prompt <3<3

[captainmarvels]

seven signs

Summary: Bucky feels like he’s falling in love.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none - pure fluff!

Word Count: 2.1k [yikes, sorry]

A/N: Here’s my submission for the ever lovely Gen’s @bucky-plums-barnes 8k celebration - congrats again, sweetheart! My prompt was: “You know I only have eyes for you.” - hope you all enjoy :) || masterlist

When you’re falling in love, it’s the last thing you expect. It hits you in waves; never ceasing as they quietly crash against the strings of your heart. You think you know, but in all earnest, you never will.

Bucky never thought he’d fall in love. He never thought anyone would ever fall in love with him, of all people. Yet here you were - the bright moon casting warm light over the dark waters of his mind and soul.

He couldn’t believe what his heart was doing - subjecting itself to the love of a single person. But he let it happen. He’d rather be subject to your heart and soul than the demons lurking in every corner of his mind.

1] Your heart skips a beat at the sound of their laughter.

Bucky thinks he might actually be having a heart attack the minute he hears you giggling. You’re sitting across from him, your hand over your heart as you try your best to stop laughing - to no avail.

“What’s so funny, Y/N?” He asks, trying his best not to join in on the laughter. You hold up your other hand, a few stray giggles escaping you as you clear your throat.

“You… oh my gosh, you have marinara sauce all over your face, Buck!” You burst out laughing once again, and he feels the same skip in his heartbeat. He can’t stop the smile dancing on his lips, nor the giggle that escapes him as he listens to you laugh away. He wouldn’t mind listening to you like this, all day.

2] You can’t stop smiling when you see them.

He’s watching you train in the main gym, your gaze concentrated on Peter. He doesn’t even know he’s smiling until he feels a nudge in his side, followed by a low whisper from Steve.

“Quit staring, punk.”

“Jerk,” Bucky snaps back, his gaze never breaking away from you. He watches how you stalk around Peter, taking his legs out with ease before he even has a chance to flip you onto the ground. Natasha cheers, and Bucky joins in as he hears Sam and Tony join in, too. He feels Steve’s hand on his shoulder, finally tearing his eyes away from you. He sees Steve smirking, and rolls his eyes as he turns to face him.

“What, Rogers?”

“Oh, nothing, Barnes.”

3] You want to hear their voice all the time.

Bucky’s found himself in the main living room of the tower, mindlessly watching some tv show he happened upon as he flipped through the channels. He’s barely gotten any sleep since the last mission - his nightmares progressively getting worse, every time. He’s fiddling with a stray strand of hair when he picks up the soft padding of your feet against the hardwood floors. He turns just in time to see you walk through the doors, a massive blue blanket draped over your figure. You wave at him, a sleepy smile gracing your lips as you meet his gaze. You head over to the kitchen, and Bucky returns to the tv show.

He hears you walk over to the large couch, claiming the corner opposite of him. He sneaks a glance, smiling to himself as he watches you focus on the show, eating your cereal. He looks back at the tv, crossing his arms over his chest as he feels a slight chill.

“Are you cold?” You ask, your eyes still glued to the tv. Bucky shakes his head. “Are you sure? No need to be the tough ol’ Barnes right now.” You point out, a small smile tugging at your lips as you take in a spoonful of cereal. Bucky chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“Fine. Yes, I am.”

“Okay.” You set your bowl on the coffee table, sliding it over to the other side as you crawl over to his side of the couch. “Scoot over, dude!”

Bucky rests his arm on the back of the couch, moving into the corner as you settle in next to him. You throw the blanket over both your legs and his, pulling it up to your chin.

“You’re that cold, Y/N?” You look at him, raising an eyebrow before you reach over for your bowl.

“Let me live in peace. Now shut up and watch the show, please.” You smile, turning back to the tv once again.

“Only because you said please, sweetheart.”

Funny enough, you don't end up watching the show. Bucky’s gotten you caught up in some psychoanalysis of the show, discussing the character’s ulterior motives. You’re sitting up, Bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, listening to you yell at the characters on the screen.

“No, you idiot! Can’t you see she’s going to kill you all?!” Bucky doesn’t even realize it, but he’s got the widest smile on his face, his eyes focused on you, his ears straining to catch every word that falls from your lips. He wish it was the only thing he could listen to, forever.

4] You want to be the reason they smile, even on the worst of days.

Bucky and Vision are called into the conference room upon the arrival of the team after a mission in Romania. An incident occurred during the fight, causing the unfortunate deaths of three civilians. As soon as Steve told him what had happened, Bucky knew he had to see you.

You’re sitting in the back of the room, your head practically hanging. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, your hair acting as a curtain to shield your face from view. Bucky makes his way towards you, only to be stopped by Steve’s arm.

“She needs some time, Buck. It all happened too fast. She has to take it all in - by herself.” They lock eyes, and Bucky knows he’s right. It takes every ounce of his self-control to stay away from you during the debrief.

As soon as it ends, and he sees you slip out of the room through the side door, he knows he has to be with you.

He makes his way to your floor, and sees that everything is dark, except the light emanating from your bedroom. He knocks twice on the door, but there’s no response from you.

“I’m coming in, Y/N.” You make no attempt to tell him no.

You’re sitting on the bed, hugging your knees tight against your chest. Your breathing is labored; your eyes are tightly shut as you try your best to fight back the tears welling up. You hear Bucky quietly come in, shutting the door behind him before he makes his way to you. You’re shaking your head, tears slowly escaping as you feel the bed dip, followed by two arms encasing you in their embrace. You feel the walls built up around your heart crack and break apart as Bucky holds you in his lap, his arms holding you tightly against his chest.

His lips are pressing soft kisses on the top of your head, followed by soft, muffled words of comfort coming.

“You’re okay. It’ll all be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your words are followed by a strangled sob, and Bucky can see just how scared and hurt you’re feeling.

“Because you are a good person. You’ve done more good than bad, and that’s what matters. We can’t always save everyone, and you’ve gotta remember that. I’ve got you.”

Even with the whole world’s weight crushing your heart, you can’t help but smile at his words.

5] An indescribable feeling consumes you when you don’t see them for some time.

The mission was only supposed to take a few days. It’s been over three weeks.

Bucky’s pacing back and forth in his room, his heartbeat thrumming in his chest as he tries to calm down, even when he knows he can’t. Not without you.

He’s practically been on edge since you left, and he doesn’t understand why. All he knows is his heart is heavy without you here, and all he wants is to have you back, even if it’s just to see your smile.

“Mr. Barnes, the team’s quinjet has just arrived in the main hangar.” Friday’s voice calls in the room, bringing him back to the now. You’re back.

He rushes to the hangar, just in time to see you as one of the last few to step off the jet. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, his heartbeat pounding in his head as he slowly takes you in. Your face is somewhat bloody, a few cuts and scrapes here and there. Your suit is torn in places, your hands bruised everywhere. You’re limping, but the smile on your face seems to ease both yours and his pain. You’re okay.

6] You want to be the one they come to when they can’t find the words to describe the pain they’re feeling. You want to be their comfort.

Bucky’s finishing up his paperwork for the mission brief tomorrow when he hears a small knock at his door. He calls out, saying it’s okay to come in, but there’s nothing. He walks up to the door, opening it to find you standing there, alone.

The look on your face is indescribable. He can’t tell if you’re okay or not, until you look up at him, your eyes glassy. He steps aside, motioning for you to walk in. You stay rooted in your spot, your heart beating loudly in your ears.

Next thing you know, you’re cradled up in Bucky’s arms, your head resting above his heart. You’re on the bed, covered by a massive blanket. Bucky’s hand is slowly rubbing your arm, tracing random patterns on your skin as he holds you. You don’t attempt to look at him.

This all that you wanted. All that you needed. Comfort.

“Don’t forget I love you.” His voice is soft, his hand still running along your skin. You snuggle into his chest, your arm wrapping itself around his neck.

“I know.”

7] You want to be theirs, forever.

It’s early morning and the warm sunlight creeping through the parted curtains slowly brings you back to life. You try to stretch, only to find your boyfriend’s arm resting over your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“G’morning, sleepyhead.” His voice is muffled, but it still puts a smile on your face as you hum happily.

“Good morning. How long have you been up, silly?” You ask, bring your hand up to run through his long locks as he tightens his arm around you. He groans in approval as you scratch at his scalp, and you giggle as he lifts his head up.

“Can we stay like this, forever?” Bucky’s got a massive grin on his face, his gaze never falling from you.

“Of course. But why are you staring at me? Do I have drool on my face?” He chuckles as you move to wipe the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“No, doll. You know I only have eyes for you, right?” You playfully roll your eyes, cupping his face as he leans down, his lips brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Only eyes for me? Should I expect more staring then, Barnes?” He giggles, leaving random, sloppy kisses all over your face as you try to turn away.

“Bucky, oh my god!” You’re both laughing, his lips trailing wet kisses along your jaw and neck as you play with his hair.

“Marry me.” The words fall from his lips after leaving a kiss on your chin, his eyes locking with yours. Your smile falters for a split moment as you search his eyes.

“Really?” The glimmer in his eyes seems to dim at the word. You cup his cheek once again, making him look at you. “James, is this a serious proposal?”

“I love you. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours. Forever.” He kisses the palm of your hand without breaking eye contact.

“Ask me again.” He raises an eyebrow, his lips lingering on your palm. “Seriously, ask me again, or else you’re not getting an answer.” You giggle when he rolls his eyes, watching as he takes your hand from his cheek to rest on his heart. He leans down, resting his forehead against yours.

“Marry me, Y/N. Make me the happiest man on this planet, forever.” Your eyes meet sparkling blue, and you whisper a small “yes” before closing the distance between your lips. Bucky can’t stop smiling, and soon enough you’re laughing as he pulls away to litter your face with kisses.

“I’m so glad I get to do this forever.”

tags: @bladebarnes, @retroasgardian, @roamingharlem, @thesaraaaaahpfan, @avengershavethetardis, @buenostardissherlock, @storyofavengers, @imsecretlyromanburki, @cassandras-musings, @nottheopera, @coltcas, @thefridgeismybestie, @callamint, @kaaatniss, @seb-ass-tian-stan-ws, @bootypoppinbarnes, @hollycornish, @h4izel, @charliexowrite, @stevnsbucks, @thewinterswimmer, @damnlokifangirl, @barnesvogue, @sebastian-stans-thighs, @capsheadquaters, @jobean12-blog, @theassetseyeliner, @buckys-fossil @worldsroses@yikesbuckster @mjuikoli @rotisserierogers @buckyappreciationsociety @supernaturaldean67 @milychetto @shhhs3cret @avengedqueen26, @this-is-angela-blog, @ohwhatamessiam, @captain-amelia-bradley, @tasting-writers-block @raindancer2004@redgillan @brighterlights @minervaem @persephone-is-here-omg @thecrownedrose@sexylibrarian1 @buckyywiththegoodhair @barnres @everyrosehasitsthornton @justasunflower@aelin-blackstairs @pillarsofelmundo @lovelynemesis @papi-chulo-bucky@themanwithovtfear @nataliarxmanxva @buchananbarnestrash @a-splash-of-stucky @hum4ntrash @blackcaptainrogers @hellomissmabel

#gen's writing challenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes drabble #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut

[rifthy]

Best Over Ear Headphones For Working Out

Introduction In this post, We are going to check out the Best over ear headphones for working out, exercise, or Gym. Here I have included Wireless as well as wired editions as well as for your convenience

There are fine headphones that can be used for the gym but,

Can you workout with headphones? Yes you can workout with headphones on. Your favorite tunes might help motivate you, but better to be cautious. Over time, loud music can cause problems with the vestibular system in your inner ear, which is responsible for your balance.

Read the Full Article at EhNoCord.com

What are the Best Over-Ear Headphones for Working out? Here is my Favorite list of Over Ear Headphones for Work out and Gym

JBL Under Armour Sport Wireless Train Wireless Headphone Soul X-TRA Performance Wireless Over-Ear Headphones for Sports Plantronics BackBeat FIT 6100 Wireless Bluetooth Headphones Sennheiser PXC 550-II Wireless Headphone Beats Studio3 Bluetooth Headphone Bose SoundLink Over-Ear / Around Ear Wireless Headphones II Avantree ANC031 Active Noise Cancelling Headphone Plantronics BackBeat Go 810 ANC Wireless Headphone BlueAnt Pump Zone Over Ear HD Wireless Headphone Skullcandy Hesh 3 TREBLAB Z2 Bluetooth Headphone Edifier W830BT Headphones Razer Opus Active Noise Cancelling ANC Wireless Headphones Bonus Wired Headphone Sennheiser HD25-1 II

In this article am trying to give my knowledge which headphone best for workout and gym and Why Wireless headphones preferred over Wired Headphones.

The headphones should be a wireless headphones due to that you are interested in being flexible at the gym without the disturbance of the wires.

Listening To audio or music when working out might give a boost and motivate you to work out

There May also be lots of sound in the gym, and headphones let you to focus on your workout without getting distracted.

I have tested out numerous headphones for the gym and outdoor workouts and discovered that there were only handful of headphones I can recommend.

13 Best Wireless Over Ear Headphones for Working Out Edifier W830BT Over-Ear Wireless Headphone Edifier W830BT Over-Ear Wireless Headphone Best Over Ear Headphones For Working Out Edifier is a well known brand for its budget-conscious headphones. They do provide quality headphones for the price you pay.

Edifier W830BT comes with 40mm drivers which create a natural large sound stage from a closed-back design

Edifier W830BT Headphones can last up to 95 hours of playback time or 1500 hours on standby after a full charge. Their Lightweight, ergonomic design covered with synthetic leather ensures comfortable wearing all day and all workout

Check on Amazon Skullcandy Hesh 3 Wireless Headphones Skullcandy Hesh 3 Best Over Ear Headphones For Working Out The Skullcandy Hesh 3 is the successor to the Skullcandy Hesh. Skullcandy has gone for a complete design makeover with Hesh 3.

Their redesigning has resulted in a better wireless listening experience compared to

Skullcandy Hesh 3 providing a better wireless listening experience with bassy sound and easy on the pocket and budget.

Check on Amazon BlueAnt – Pump Zone Over Ear HD Wireless Headphones BlueAnt – Pump Zone Over Ear HD Wireless Headphones The BlueAnt Headphones are from an Australian brand, This is the BlueAnt Pump zone Over Ear Wireless HD Audio Headphone

For an unknown manufacturer, they certainly have all the bells and whistles that you would anticipate from the famous Brands such as the Sony or the Bose.

The headphones include a built-in mic, a simple One Touch controller, an 3.5mm jack for Wired listening, 30 hours of playtime and they even included a carrying case which is a pleasant surprise and rarely included even by top brands especially at this price range.

These headphones remind me of the classic Beats by Dre very first-gen studio wired headphones as well as the first-generation Solo

These do have a Foldable design for Storage and Travelling. These do come with multiple colors to choose from.

Check on Amazon Avantree ANC031 Active Noise Cancelling Headphone Avantree ANC031 Active Noise Cancelling Headphone Avantree is not a well known brand in the headphone industry. But they do produce some good headphones for traveling

Avantree more focused on budget range headphones and they do produce PC audio peripherals.

In Avantree ANC031 Active noise cancellation can be activated with a single click of a button. The ANC button located on the bottom side of the left ear cup and it works as the on off button as well

Their 40mm drivers with a Bluetooth CSR chipset make sure that the listening experience is smooth and fulfilling.

The sound has been more optimized for bass and if you are a bass-head you will not regret buying these. The headphones come with a hard carrying case for storage and carrying around

With the user friendly UI, you can answer phone calls, adjust the volume, control the music and mute the microphone.

Check on Amazon Alternate one from Avantree Check on Amazon Bose SoundLink around-ear wireless headphones II

First I was hesitant to get the Bose Soundlink around-ear wireless headphone II due to its higher price range

Bose produces good quality products at a premium price, where there ANC Headphones shines always top in the market.

Bose has a similarly named Soundlink II speaker, Better not to confuse these with headphones.

Check on Amazon Beats Studio3 Wireless Headphone Beats Studio3 Wireless headphone Beats by Dre has been seen around the market as a premium brand for a while

Beats by Dre tuned by Dr Dre and Jimmy Lovine and received a good response from the market from the initiating of the brand itself.

Later Beats acquired by Apple to make their sound entrance to the wireless headphone market.

Their Active Noise Cancellation headphone Beats Studio 3 retails around $300 but availability is questionable.

All these Headphones are the successor to the combined reviewed Beats Studio 2 wireless. Beats headphones are best for lovers of EDM and Hip Hop.

When Beats Brand at its peak, You could have seen Beats headphone in every street Still

Are Beats Wireless Headphones good for working out ? Yes, absolutely you can, these are one of the headphones with the thumping Bass which will go well with workouts

Check on Amazon Recent Posts Best Over Ear Headphones for Working out Tribit Flybuds C1 Review : Best out of Competition? JBL Reflect Mini NC TWS Review : Justify the price? JBL Tune 225 TWS Review : Worth it? V-MODA M-200 ANC Headphone Review Sennheiser PXC 550 Wireless Headphone Sennheiser PXC 550 Wireless Sennheiser electronic GmbH & Co. KG is a German privately held audio company specializing in the design and production of a premium range of high quality audio products

The Sennheiser PXC 550 Noise Cancelling Wireless headphones are designed to fulfill travelers need

We do expect great performance with great specs for their asking price of $400.

With their price range, their competing with the well known Sony WH-1000XM Series and Bose QC 35 II

Due to the competition priced dropped down to an affordable range and the current price well compete with the market and a no brainer to choose this as your workout companion

Check on Amazon Soul X-TRA Performance Bluetooth Over-Ear Headphones for Sports Soul X-TRA Performance Bluetooth Over-Ear Headphones for Sports The Soul X-TRA wireless Bluetooth over ear headphones are wireless Bluetooth headphones. The name is not much familiar to me, However, after a few uses I was pleasantly surprised

The Soul X-TRA Bluetooth wireless headphones have marked a name for themselves among the best over ear headphones that are best for working out.

Check on Amazon Plantronics BackBeat Go 810 Wireless Headset Plantronics BackBeat Go 810 Wireless Looking at the price of the Plantronics Backbeat Go 810 they packed a superb performance.

If you consider using these for an average 1-hour gym session I do not think Plantronics BackBeat Go 810 will disappoint you.

And given the expectation, they absolutely lived up to the expectation

Backbeat Go 810 become my one of the favorite workout headphone recently.

For the whole workout time, I didn’t feel any discomfort or headphone did not fall off from my head and headphone stayed on my head for the whole period

Check on Amazon Plantronics BackBeat FIT 6100 Wireless Bluetooth Headphones Plantronics BackBeat FIT 6100 Wireless Bluetooth Headphones BackBeat FIT 6100 gives Maximum stability when working out. Unique Sport-fit headband can be flexible for an ultra-stable fit during rigorous training while the unique hexagonal pattern provides extra grip when working out.

BackBeat FIT 6100 is Sweatproof and IPX5-rated water-resistant Bluetooth headphones can withstand moisture and spills. complete with a breathable perforated headband and wipe-clean ear cushions

These headphones can connect up to 2 devices simultaneously which is bonus from my point of view.

Plantronics BackBeat FIT 6100 wireless headphones can lasts up to 24 hours of power on a single charge. And a 15-minute quick charge provides up to one hour of power to which is icing on the cake.

And their SOUND MIX feature Create the perfect blend of your surroundings and music with Awareness mode and Sound Mix. So, chat with your gym partner between sets and listen to the traffic and outside world when you’re running outdoors

Check on Amazon TREBLAB Z2 Treblab Z2 over ear Wireless Headphone While working out, Z2 Bluetooth over ear headphones provide total comfort, block out loud and annoying music at the gym, and let you focus on favorite tracks and workout.

Whether you’re running outside or on a treadmill, lifting weights or playing basketball, Z2 Bluetooth workout headphones help you concentrate on your goal by joining music and sports.

With IPX4 water resistant & sweatproof, these wireless running headphones easily survive intense fitness sessions

Treblab Z2 wireless headphones allow enjoying music all day long and more & one single charge is enough for many visits to the gym.

These headphones designed earcups to natural shape of your ear for a custom fit. With skin texture, swivel ear-cups put no pressure & don’t warm the ears. Weighing 0.53 lb which is lightweighted cpmpare to other competitors.

Treblab Z2 come in a portable case for increased mobility.

Check on Amazon Under Armour JBL Sport Wireless Train headphones-Best sweat proof headphones for the gym Under Armour JBL Sport Wireless Train headphones-Best sweat proof headphones for the gym Under Armour JBL Sport Wireless Train headphones are specifically made for Gym and workout that are sweat resistant.

They have some good sound but the main feature here is headphone’s optimized moisture resistance and clamping force

JBL has lent their expertise in the audio industry with Under armour to produce these headphones

Under Armour designed these headphones keeping athletes and gym lovers in mind.

These Headphones come with IPX4 to withstand the heavy training sessions.

Under Armour SuperVent ear cushions supply provide in a light, long-lasting, fast-drying fabric that is removable & hand washable.

And their grip material also makes the headphones secure and stable.

Check on Amazon Razer Opus Active Noise Cancelling ANC Wireless Headphones Razer Opus Active Noise Cancelling ANC Wireless Headphones These Headphones THX Certified Headphones for High-Fidelity Sound. Razer Opus ANC headphones were Tested and optimized by experts in cinematic audio immersion at THX Ltd.

Razer Opus presents a rich, balanced sound stage for all different types of media.

Razer ANC shut out all distractions noises with advanced ANC tech detects and nullifies incoming noise.

Razer Opus Headphones with plush leather memory foam ear cups, a well-balanced weight, and snug clamping force, keep the headphones on throughout long commutes and heavy workouts sessions and remain in super comfort.

Check on Amazon Bonus

Best Over Ear Wired Headphone for Working out and Gym Sennheiser HD25-1 II Sennheiser HD25-1 II Sennheiser HD25-1 II are well designed portable headphones for those who looking for a travel and workout headphones with portability.

Sennheiser HD25-1 II will easily fit with any backpack or luggage.

Sennheiser HD25-1 II are well made upgrade compared to Sennheiser HD25-1.

There are minor upgrades with the Design in the latest model and some notable differences with the Sounding.

Check on Amazon FAQ’s Attributes to look on Over ear Headphones for Workout/Gym? First the headphones must have ear pads that can dry quickly after you have sweat on them and easy  removable

Secondly the headphones must fit well, since as you exercise the headphones must stay on your head and not slip off.

Pump out Quality Sound

Earbuds or headphones which one better for working out? Yes, earbuds can be use for working out now a day earbuds are made to withstand the sweat and water to perform better. But Advantage with the Headphones is they sound better and they produce better noise cancelling.

Can sweat ruin earbuds / headphone / ear pads? The reason why most advise you to not exercise with headphones is that the sweat will cause wet harm and this may cause further issues.

Sweat is corrosive, it’ll harm the memory foam or cushion-like material of earpiece or ear pads. Your cans ear pads look unappealing and wrinkled as a result. the opposite issue with the sweat is that your ear pads will begin to smell.

If wet seeps into the electronics of your headphones that would harm the functioning of your headphones.

You may notice the sound turning incoherent and inconsistent. The other drawback with sweat on your headphones is that harm caused by sweat is sometimes not covered under warranty

Is sweat bad for leather? Yes, Sweat can damage leather earpads. Ensure you are using a Headphone made for working out to withstand sweat since you may damage your headphone unknowingly

Are over the ear headphones better for your ears? Over-the-ear headphones are a better option than earbuds. Not only do you not have to worry about sound directly into your eardrums, but most over-the-ear headphones are also, more comfortable to wear than earbuds

And packs better battery life as well as sounding experience.

Check out our other interesting Reviews… Mpow X6 Review : Best ANC Under $80? Soundpeats T2 Review : ANC From Soundpeats Worth It? Ultrasone Performance 880 Detailed Audio Review FIIL T1 Pro Review : Best TWS Under $70? Lenovo Droplet : Tiny But Mighty! FIIL T1XS Review : Best Bang For Bucks? Anker Soundcore Life Q30 Vs Soundcore Life Q20 : Worth Extra Money?

#wireless headphones #workout headphone #over ear headphones

[scrollingkingfisher]

All Work and No Play

Sam tries to teach Jack how to lift a pencil. They both end up learning. 

Based on my favourite interaction so far this season. I love what they’re doing with Jack and Sam! It is giving me LIFE in these dark and Casless times.

Gen

Words; 1688

A03

Sam raises his eyebrows and tilts his head down at the pencil lying innocuously on the table, as if he's saying, “Go on then”.

Jack knows what Sam wants. Jack might be only four and a half days old but he already knows a lot of useful things, like the way nougat sticks in your teeth, and what the word ‘innocuously’ means, and what it feels like to be stabbed, and the way Sam’s forehead scrunches up when he’s trying to solve a problem.

Right now the problem is that he wants to see Jack levitate the pencil. Jack can see it in his fractured-shining-soul, the excitement and anticipation swirling and mixing with the fear. Those emotions are new. The fear though, that never goes away. Jack doesn't know how Sam survives, being so terrified all the time.

But Jack does know, even as he frowns down at the pencil, that he can’t do it. There’s none of that energy running through him the way it had done before, ready and willing to reshape the world however he wants it. He tries, because Sam is clearly expecting him to, and he likes Sam. Sam is always so kind to him, even when he’s afraid.

Jack scowls down at the pencil, trying to ignore the steady tapping of Sam’s attention against his consciousness. Sam keeps on and on at him, talking about how he does it (he doesn’t know, it just happens), and what Asmodeus had done to him (which makes him want to shiver and crawl into a small, dark space and never come out again).

Finally, Sam gives up. He takes a long assessing look at Jack and stands. “I’ll get some food. Just. You stay here, try to relax. When I get back, we’ll try again.”

He leaves. Jack slumps, staring at the pencil in defeat. It should feel like a relief, being out from under that scrutiny, but it’s not. He’s never going to be able to do this. Because without something dark like Asmodeus egging him on, he’s not even able to lift a pencil.

He gets up from the table then hunkers down against the wall, folding himself into the corner. Dean was right.

It doesn’t take long before he feels a spike of panic, then the sound of running footsteps and the door flies open.

“Jack? Jack!” Sam looks around, wild eyed, and then sags in relief when he sees Jack in the corner. “What are you doing?”

Jack regrets making Sam panic a little, but not enough to encourage him to get off the floor. He holds up the pencil defiantly. “I moved the pencil.”

Sam’s shoulders droop further. “Okay, look. I know this isn't exactly fun-”

“It's the opposite of fun,” Jack puts in petulantly.

“Okay. But why is it so hard? I've seen you throw people across the room. I've been thrown across the room by you. I've- I've seen you open a gate to hell, and now nothing? It doesn't make sense.” He’s got that puzzle-solving forehead again, but Jack knows the answer to this one.

“It'd make sense if I was evil.”

Sam seems genuinely surprised. “What?”

Jack turns away. He doesn’t want to think about this any more. “Just go please.”

“No, Jack!” Sam crouches down so that he’s more on Jack’s level. “Why do you think you're evil? ‘Cause when I look at you, that's not what I see.”

“Dean sees it. That's why he said he'd kill me.”

“What!?” Anger flashes across Sam’s mind, fast and sharp as a whip, followed by concern and an odd ache.

Jack looks down at his hands, twisting the fingers around each other. “Maybe Dean should kill me. Mom said that I could be good, that I could make a choice to be good, that it was up to me. But she's dead because of me. I've only been on earth for a few days and I've already hurt people. I've already done bad things. And no matter how I try, I can't do the one stupid good thing you want me to do. So I must be evil. Like lucifer.”

There’s a long silence. “Jack. Listen.” Sam’s voice is quiet but insistent. Jack doesn’t look up. “Asmodeus tricking you, Dean- what he said- none of that is your fault. And I think that after everything that's happened, I don't blame you for being afraid to use your power. And me pressuring you isn't helping.”

Jack raises his head and meets Sam’s eyes. “Really?”

“Really. What do you say we call it until I figure out a better way? How does that sound?”

Jack thinks about it and nods. “Good.”

“Good. C’mon.” Sam extends one large hand and Jack takes it, letting him pull him upright.

They stand there a little awkwardly. Sam seems to debate for a second, biting his lip and there's that ache again, but then he reaches out for Jack and pulls him in. Jack is confused for a second as long arms wrap around him. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

“This is where you hug back,” Sam’s voice resonates against his chest. Slowly, Jack raises his arms, wrapping them around the human in return. Some newly discovered instinct has him burying his face in the soft flannel of Sam’s shoulder.

Sam is warm. His heart beats against Jack’s cheek, a little too hard, a little too fast.  All the events of the past four and a half days suddenly seem to crash over him and the corners of his eyes start to prickle. He scrunches them up and presses in harder, as though getting closer to the warm light of Sam’s soul will somehow guard him against the horrors of this terribly confusing world. Sam’s hand comes up and rubs over his shaking back, soothing back and forth.

Eventually though he has to let go. He has to ask.

“Sam. Why are you being so nice to me?”

Sam pauses with his hand still on Jack’s shoulder, like he’s weighing the words very carefully before he says them. “Because I know what it feels like to not belong. To feel like there's this darkness inside you, to be afraid of yourself and what you can do. Dean and Cas, my family, they helped me through that. So now I want to help you, Jack. Because you're not evil.”

Jack can’t imagine Dean helping anyone through anything. Maybe he was different before that ball of grief started eating into his soul. But it feels good knowing that Sam at least understands; he knows about having powers. He’s done this before. He’s managed to control them. So maybe that’s the key for Jack to learn how. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you showed me?”

Sam sends him a confused look as he walks over to the table. “Hmm?”

“If you showed me how to do it. You used to have powers, didn’t you?”

Jack feels Sam’s fear leap a little higher. His heart beat ticks up a notch. “Yeah. I did. But Jack, that… that was a long time ago. I’m not sure I can even do it any more.”

“You can,” Jack assures him. He can see the patterns in Sam’s soul where the energy would flow, like a dried out river bed. It would just be a matter of tapping into it again.

Sam’s hand clenches tight on the back of the chair. “I’m not sure if I want to. Jack, my powers weren’t like yours. I got them by… I didn’t get them like you did, they aren’t natural. And I did bad things with them.”

Jack frowns at him, confused. Hadn’t Sam just been saying that his powers weren’t dark? “But your powers are natural. I can see it. Do you mean that my powers could be bad things, too?”

“No! No Jack, that’s not what I-” Sam cuts himself off, rubbing a hand over his face and scrunching his eyes shut.

Suddenly, Jack understands. “Oh. You made a mistake, like I almost made a mistake with Asmodeus.”

Sam looks away, his eyes dark and haunted. “Yes.”

“So, that was bad. And it hurt people. But your powers aren’t,” Sam opens his mouth to interrupt but Jack has to finish this, “Because if your powers are bad, then mine have to be too.”

Sam’s mouth is still hanging open, the beginnings of words escaping before he cuts them off, and Jack can see the turmoil inside him, synapses snapping like a miniature lightning storm. Jack shifts nervously.

After a minute or two Sam slumps. But it’s the good sort of slump, as though he’s travelled miles and miles with a weight on his back and has finally put it down. His mind calms and he pulls out the chair,dropping into it. “Yeah,” he sighs, “I guess so.” He looks up at Jack and smiles, although it’s still a little shaky. “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

Jack smiles back encouragingly and sits opposite him, placing the pencil in the middle of the table in a mirror image of earlier. Sam takes a deep breath and leans forwards. He narrows his eyes. For a long moment, nothing happens.

Then Jack sees it coming. He watches closely as Sam gathers the power, amplifies it, channels it. Light begins to flicker behind Sam’s irises, and one end of the pencil rises slowly, shakily off the table, wobbling up into the air. Jack lets out a noise of excitement and Sam loses concentration, letting it drop back to the table with a clatter, but when he looks up he’s smiling and his eyes are clear, alight now not with power but with exhilaration.  

By the end of the afternoon they can float the pencil across the table to one another. Sam laughs and stands from the table, stretching and insisting that they take a break. Jack nods reluctantly, because knows that lifting a pencil isn’t much. He’ll need to work on it before he’s ready to try and rescue his father.

It feels good, though. It feels like progress.

#my fic #Winchester angst tm #jack #sam winchester #gotta post this before tonights ep #s13 spoilers #s13e03 #protect jack 2k17 #sam winchester's powers

[andromedahawking]

OC Bullshit AKA: Group Project Part 1

Maria hated group projects. With a passion. Every time, she ended up pulling all the weight while everyone else skived off.

This time, though, she seemed to have joined a group that shared her pain.

The project was daunting: a full rundown of the 2056 election, primaries and general, due in one month. Five people in the group: Adrien Cranston, Hannah Chase, herself, Tatjana Mekall, and Xander York. By her logic, that was one person for each primary and one for the general, if they wanted to divvy it up that way. Although, none of them were exactly equally weighted—she knew for a fact that the Progressive primary had been a beast that election.

She had been the one to set up the group chat after class that day, already gearing up for another hellish month of dealing with four useless partners and doing the heavy lifting all the way—but this time was different.

Tuesday 2 October 2084, 17:47

MT Hey guys, Maria here. This’ll be a big project, we should schedule time to get together soon to work on it.

XY Hey! Agreed, we should meet ASAP.

If we can get this done early that would be ideal, I have big stuff in English Week 4.

AC I’m free every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after 16. Free all weekends, but Tues/Thurs are no-gos.

TM I’m in Xander’s English too, Week 4 is a major due date so finishing this quick is a really big priority.

MT I’m free past 16:30 on weekdays. Not free until 16 on weekends.

XY I’m free every day after 17.

HC I’m busy Mon Tues and Weds, free after 17 otherwise.

TM I’m free until 20 on weekends, free after 16 on weekdays.

MT So Friday and weekends after 17 work best for everyone?

AC Yeah that works

XY Can do.

TM Yup.

HC That’ll work.

MT Okay. Let’s meet up Friday at 17:30.

AC Meeting point?

HC Does everyone know Lac de la Lune?

XY Yeah I’ve heard of it.

AC Are you kidding I love that place Let’s do it

TM That’s in Walnut Creek, right?

That works for me.

MT Yeah, it’s in Walnut Creek near the Millenial Cinema on Locust.

So, Lac de la Lune at 17:30?

AC Let’s do it

HC That’s good

XY Yes

TM Yeah

MT Alright. It’s set.

See you guys there.

Bonus points to Hannah for suggesting Lac de la Lune. They served the best drinks there. Maria had arrived at 17, not wanting to be late, and got a booth for them. She’d brought her laptop and her textbook with her, and promptly supplemented that with a White Russian. Alcohol made History go down more smoothly.

17:10 gave her the first pleasant surprise of the day: Adrien arrived with all his materials.

“Afternoon,” he said with a wave, sitting down opposite her. “I’m glad you got a booth, I always liked them better.”

“History requires a cushy seat and strong drinks,” she said, smiling crookedly.

“God, relatable…” he groaned. “I look at the project outline and I feel my soul die in my chest.”

“Have you seen the Wikipedia article on the 2056 election?” she asked. “It makes me wanna die. It’s a nightmare.”

“I have,” he said. “I also wanted to die when I saw it. It’s so long.”

“And that’s just the Wikipedia article,” she said. “There’s so much stuff about this whole thing, you could write an entire textbook about it.”

“Someone probably has.” Adrien picked up a menu. “I don’t know what I want to eat…”

“Pick a drink first, that’s my advice.”

“I already know what I want to drink, that’s easy. Food is a lock I can never pick.”

“Burger. You can’t go wrong with a burger.”

“True, but…” He bit his lip. “Burgers weigh me down. I need something lighter.”

“Pizza? You can get it thin-crust and plain.”

“Ooooo. Oo, yeah, that sounds good. I’ll do that.”

The others trickled in early as well. It was 17:20 by the time Xander came in and completed the group. Everybody was actually prepared. It was amazing to see: all five of them, laptops and books at the ready, eager to get this damn thing done swiftly and painlessly.

“Okay, so, first of all,” Hannah began, “we need to figure out how to break this up. It goes from about June 2055 to January 2057. There’s the four primaries, then the general and everything between that and the inauguration.”

“We shouldn’t do one primary or the general apiece,” Xander said. “The Pros and Dems' primaries are a huge mess compared to the Reps and Cons.”

“Yeah, Mazer and Birch were locked in way before Hanover or Scott,” Maria nodded. “We’d be better off going by subjects or something.”

“We also have to remember the 29th Amendment,” Tatjana said.

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Maria groaned. “The proportional voting totally changed the dynamic.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Adrien agreed. “And there’s also the VAP Automatic Registration Act.”

“Okay,” Hannah said. “So we can break it up into five groups of subjects, like, um, election changes and things like that… uh, debates, other things.”

“Yeah, that oughta work better,” Xander said.

“Cool,” Maria said. “Let’s do it.”

-

They made some decent headway before their meals came, but it was to be expected that once it was time to eat, work ground to a halt.

“My favourite part of the whole thing is how she was president for two terms, and now she’s a Senator,” Xander laughed. “Like, there’s nothing in the Constitution that says you can’t be a Senator after you’re President! We have two former Presidents as Senators right now!”

“It’s so fucking weird, man,” Maria sighed. “The government is a shitshow.”

“I mean, to be fair, Mazer is a pretty darn good Senator,” Adrien said. “Even if she is a Republican.”

“Don’t you know?” Tatjana said with fake disgust. “Labels are fake. Politics are a lie.”

“Yeah, haven’t you heard of RINOs before?” Hannah giggled. “She used to be a Progressive.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know,” Adrien said, taking a big bite of pizza. “But still, she’s the only Republican I ever voted for.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those people?” Hannah asked. “You vote along party lines?”

“Not always! I cross the aisle sometimes.”

“Fuckin’ weirdo,” Maria said. “Be a good little Democrat and stay in line.”

“I’m a Progressive, thank you very much.”

“Same here,” Tatjana said. “I don’t matter, though, since I’m first-gen.”

“What, your parents are immigrants?” Xander asked.

“Mm-hm. They immigrated from Germany back in the 40s.”

“Oh yeah, so you’re locked in, basically,” Adrien said.

“Pretty much,” Tatjana said, grinning widely. “I’m a good girl. I vote Progressive.”

“I’m not that far gone,” Maria said. “I stick with the Democrats.”

“Establishment hack!” Hannah gasped dramatically.

“California corrupted you, didn’t it?!” Xander said. “The conservatives got to you!”

“Oh my god, is being a Democrat really being a conservative?” Maria laughed. “I thought there were two other parties that had that base covered!”

“All Democrats are conservatives in disguise,” Adrien deadpanned with a thick Southern drawl. “Don’t y’all get that? If you ain’t Progressive you ain’t American.”

“Oh good, can we get rid of Washington and Oregon, then?”

“Only if we toss in Wisconsin.”

“I can live with that.”

“What? You can’t do that!” Xander said. “That messes up the borders!”

“Look at this noob,” Tatjana said. “He thinks borders are something to be honoured!”

“Toss Wisconsin to the dogs, borders be damned!” Hannah said. “And I’m speaking as a Minnesotan, we’d be better off!”

“Well, of course you want them gone, then!” Maria said. “You have state rivalry in play!”

“Duh!” Hannah took a big sip of her drink. “It’s in my blood!”

“Okay, we obviously need to pro-con getting rid of Wisconsin,” Adrien said. “On one hand, it makes Minnestoa happy; on the other, it fucks up the borders, as Xander pointed out.”

“Wisconsin is good for industry,” Maria said. “I say that cancels out the wingnuts.”

“Well, by that logic, Montana should be counted as an asset too,” Hannah said.

“I mean, they have Teller City!” Maria said. “Teller City does some amazing stuff for robotics.”

“Okay, but that’s only industry,” Adrien said. “What about other things? What does Wisconsin add or subtract from the nation?”

“They have the cheeseheads,” Hannah said.

“We can enjoy cheese memes just as fine without Wisconsin,” Tatjana said. “They can leave and still make dumb memes.”

“You’re right. Memes are a constant,” Adrien said.

“I think we should get rid of Wisconsin,” Maria said. “50 states is a nicer number.”

“Yeah, but 51 divides into 17, and 17 is cool,” Xander said.

“I think we should nix Wisconsin on the grounds that they beat the 49ers last season,” Tatjana said.

“An excellent position,” Adrien said. “You know what? It’s decided. Wisconsin is expelled from the Union. Fifty states again.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Maria said.

“And good riddance!” Hannah cheered.

#OC bullshit #Maria Taylor / Maria Mekall #Tatjana Mekall #New OCs

[baahsu]

Warm-Ups and Cool-Downs (Preview)

18+ Soul mate AU

Jungkook was in his senior year at university, and god was he fucking <i>ready</i> to graduate. He had never been more ready for anything in his entire life. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy more studious pursuits- there were some classes that he really, really enjoyed. But he just felt like he had been in school for his entire life and longed for the freedom of going out on his own. The alarm had been going off for thirteen minutes, but Jungkook couldn’t open his eyes.

  It’s not like he <i>wanted</i> to take an 8 AM class. Even his boyfriend had scoffed <i>”Ungodly.”</i> when he saw his schedule and handed it back as if it were cursed.

  But he was a senior, and that meant he had to take all the stupid required courses he had tried to avoid without success his entire academic career.

  “Why are you taking a Speech class at 8 AM anyway?” Yoongi had asked, pouring himself some coffee. He hadn’t slept yet and Jungkook was just waking up. Their schedules had gotten more and more misaligned which meant Jungkook’s temperature was also fucked. He wasn’t getting nearly the physical attention from Yoongi his little internal timer demanded, and he got randomly cold due to Yoongi’s work.

  “No choice,” Jungkook slipped behind him, kissing the spot just under his earlobe that seemed to set him off like a button. Yoongi rolled back against him, leaning his head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

  “You couldn’t pay me to take a class at eight fucking a m,” Yoongi groaned, half at the thought and half at Jungkook’s well-placed lips.

  “I know you’re tired, but do you have time?” Jungkook breathed into his ear and pressing his hips to Yoongi’s back. It took roughly six seconds of being a meter within Yoongi’s presence for Jungkook to get aroused, and it was driving him <I>crazy</I>.

  “Sorry,” Yoongi turned, planting a firm kiss on Jungkook’s lips, “I can’t this morning.”

  “You’re sweating,” Jungkook protested, sliding his hands to Yoongi’s hips, “I know you want to, too.”

  “Of course, I do,” Yoongi said indignantly, pulling Jungkook’s hands from his waist, “But I’m really fucking exhausted. Rain check?”

  “You said that yesterday,” Jungkook couldn’t hide the aggravated tone, his pitch dropping.

  “As soon as I wake up,” Yoongi kissed him chastely, “You’ll be back from class, right?”

  “I have class in the evenings on Wednesdays,” Jungkook whined, “You’re usually gone when I get home.”

  “I promise,” Yoongi kissed him three more times before taking a step back toward the bedroom, “I’ll stay here tonight.”

  Jungkook sighed, watching the bedroom door click closed. After a few seconds, he walked to the livingroom and sat on the couch- grumbling as he grabbed the box of tissues and wiped a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. He had roughly fifteen minutes before he had to be out the door to make in time for his early morning hell class. More than enough time.

Apparently the word “promise” didn’t mean jackshit to Min Yoongi.

<i>Asshole: sorry kookie</i>

<i>Asshole: ill make it up to you i swear</i>

Jungkook slipped his thumb across his phone.

  <i>Me: don’t bother.</i>

  He chucked the stupid thing across the entire room. Who has emergency work meetings at 11 PM on Wednesdays? Genius-Producer-Min-Fucking-Yoongi, that’s who.

He glared at the thing chiming as he reached for the tissue box, again.

  The next two weeks were like that, too- Jungkook going through three boxes of tissues all by himself. It was terrible. And stupid. And really fucking frustrating.

  Pushing the bedroom door open with take-out in hand for the both of them, he stopped in his tracks and dropped the bags on the floor. Yoongi was asleep with his laptop still perched on his stomach. With a heavy sigh, Jungkook pulled it off of him and tucked him in properly. He bent, placing five small kisses on his cheek.

  “Sleep well, motherfucker,” he mumbled before turning right back around to the living room with his dinner in hand.

  Their schedules were woefully fucked like a dropped baton during the relay at the olympics- each racing to meet the other only to have it fall apart at the most critical time. Jungkook stomped across the campus- not bothering to raise his head as he walked into the Communications building. It was 7:45 in the morning, and Yoongi wasn’t even in the apartment when he woke up. His body was going haywire- sweating from having him close, cold from him disappearing without so much as a kiss. Or even a firm handshake.

  Jungkook walked straight to a desk in the back, not bothering to even take out his headphones. What was the fucking point? It was just a stupid gen ed.

  “I’m thinking about doing my speech on music,” The freshman girl said in front of him, “Especially the influence of Western music on pop in Asia.”

  “That sounds cool,” Her friend answered, swiping through her phone without looking up, “I was thinking about doing mine on our generation and fine dining.”

  They kept chattering on, flipping through their notes. They had <i>notes</i>. Jungkook was so aggravated and tired, he didn’t even have a <i>notebook</i>. He sighed, laying face down.

  He hated this class.

  “Good morning!” The professor slid the door open loudly and stepped in, grinning. He walked over to his desk and put his papers on his desk before lifting his gaze to survey the room, “How’s my favorite group of misanthropic youth on this bright and beautiful day?”

  A half-hearted grumble came from the students and he chuckled.

  “Professor Jung,” A girl raised her hand in the front, “I’m stuck between two topics for our speech themes.”

  “That’s alright,” His smile was dazzling, “When you come up to turn it in, we’ll pick it together.”

  <I>Oh, fucking fuck.</I>

  “Thanks, Professor!” She smiled back, a blush creeping in her cheek. The girl next to her giggled.

  <I>Fuck fuck fuck.</I> The speech topics were due <I>today.</I>

  Jungkook hadn’t lifted his head from his desk, hoping that somehow he could melt into the replicated wood and disappear entirely.

  Oh, how he longed for death.

  “Alright, I’ll call you in alphabetical order. The rest of you, open your textbook to chapter three.”

  Jungkook didn’t even buy the textbook.

  His awful, miserable cold sweat was rolling onto the desk. He spent the majority of the class fantasizing about Yoongi: either fucking him or murdering him for putting him through this hell.

  “Mr. Jeon,” Hoseok called, his smile never fading. Jungkook pulled himself up and walked up to his desk, groaning softly in despair.

  “Professor, I don’t have it,” Jungkook said in a low voice.

  “See me after class,” Hoseok said cheerfully, stacking his papers, “I’d like to talk to you if you have time.”

  “Okay,” Jungkook shifted his weight uncomfortably. He just wanted to go home.

  The last half-hour of class was torture. Jungkook had Yoongi stuck in his brain- his dark eyes burrowing into his own. His soft features turned deadly serious with sweat matting his bangs to his forehead. His perfectly pink lips open and panting as his broad hands and long fingers worked down Jungkook’s very eager body.

  He nearly moaned in class.

  “See you all next week,” Hoseok stood up and walked in front of his desk leaning back onto it, “Start doing some preliminary research into your topics.”

  The class broke out in a murmur, collecting their things and making their way out of the room. Jungkook lumbered slowly to the front, trying to ignore his erection tucked under the band of his boxers. Hoseok waved to the last of the students and shut the door, turning to Jungkook.

  “Mr. Jeon, I’ll make this brief,” his expression turned dark and Jungkook took a step back unconsciously. He had never seen him without his signature smile, and all of his usual mirth evaporated and was chiefly replaced with a stern frown. Jungkook gulped.

  “Just because you’re a senior does not mean you can blow off this class. And do not, I repeat- <I>do not</I> mistake my kindness for weakness. Doing so will cost you your grade and your graduation,” Hoseok warned, his eyes narrowing.

  Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. Hoseok was scary.

  “I’m not-” Jungkook protested, wiping the sweat from his brow, “I’m really sorry I didn’t bring a topic today. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m going through some shit. And-”

  Jungkook hesitated, bouncing on his heels and glancing to the door.

  “What’s the matter?” Hoseok asked concerned, eyeing him up and down.

  “I have stage fright,” Jungkook whispered. Fuck, he hated this class, “I don’t even know what to talk about. The thought of getting up in front of everyone and just-”

  Jungkook took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. His concentration was already shot to hell.

  “Hey, hey- that’s okay. I see that a lot. It’s best not to pick something out of your comfort zone. What do you like? What’s easy for you to talk about?” Hoseok walked back to his desk.

  <i>Easy?</I> Jungkook looked out the window, <I>To talk about?</I>

  <I>”Hyung, please,” Jungkook whined as his lover held him down- the tip of Yoongi’s cock a centimeter inside teasingly with a demonic smirk tugged on his lips. He hated it. He loved it. “I need your cock all the way. Fill me up. I need your cum. Please, Hyung, please.”</I>

  <I>”That’s a good boy,” Yoongi bent and captured his lips, “Tell Hyung exactly what you like.”</I>

  <I>”Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook moaned his name. It was easy to say exactly what he wanted when Yoongi was like this- dark and in control, “Fuck me hard. Bend me in half and ram your cock into me until I see stars.”</I>

  <I>Yoongi’s smirk disappeared as lust bowled him over. He slid his hands to Jungkook’s thighs, pushing his knees up to his chest.</I>

  <I>“Ah, Hyung-”</I>

  <I>“Jungkook.”</I>

  “Jungkook!”

  Jungkook snapped out of his daze, refocusing on Hoseok, “-Uhhhh..”

  “Ground control to Major Jeon,” Hoseok waved his hand in front of his face, “You okay there, buddy?”

  Jungkook shivered, sweat pouring down his temple. His cock twitched in his pants.

  “Not fucking really,” He frowned.

  “O-Kay,” Hoseok drew out the word, looking at Jungkook strangely, “I’m not going to pry, I’m just going to make a suggestion. How about the internal thermodynamics of bonding?”

  “What?” Jungkook fumbled for his handkerchief.

  “Like, looking into why our bodies warm up and cool down depending on the proximity of our- and I use the term loosely, ‘soulmates’,” Hoseok’s smile returned, but his look of concern stayed in place.

  “Sounds great, Teach,” Jungkook was shuffling anxiously, “Can ya write that down for me?”

  “Sure,” Hoseok nodded, scribbling on a piece of paper while mumbling to himself, “At least you <I>have</I> a soulmate.”

  “Thanks a million,” Jungkook hurriedly snatched it from his hand and disappeared out the door. He could feel the precum leaking through his boxers.

  By the time he got home, there was a small wet spot at the front of his pants. A trail of clothes led to the bedroom as Jungkook rushed to the empty bed, cumming in less than a minute with his face completely buried in Yoongi’s pillow- the scent of his shampoo still lingering. He rolled over, staring at the ceiling and sighing with sticky hands. The sweating stopped- for now.

  All that was left was the cold.

  He laid there, frustrated, wondering how much longer he could take this. After about ten minutes, his phone chimed from the other room where he had left his pants. Jungkook rolled, grabbing the tissues and walked back to the crumpled clothes and picked it up.

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Hey. R u busy? ^^</I>

  Jungkook quickly typed out a reply.

  <I>Me: not really. what’s up?</I>

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Wanna help out your favorite Hyung?</I>

  Jungkook scoffed, smiling at his phone.

  <I>Me: who said you’re my favorite?</I>

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Im not? :c ???</I>

  <I>Me: what do you need?</I>

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Thought so~ ^^ Anyway- tae tae and I need ur help.</I>

  <I>Me: what did you guys do now? you didn’t get locked out and stuck on your neighbor’s balcony again, right? I didn’t keep that postal uniform to bail you out. tbqh, I’m not in the mood for jimin and Tae hijinks.</I>

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Okay !! D: that was ONE time and no, it’s not an adventure with the two most fun hyungs on the planet~ we need help packing the heavy stuff. Tae tried to do it and he wouldn’t listen to me and now he’s got a broken toe.</I>

  <I>Me: uh okay. what are you packing for? I can be over in like 20 minutes.</I>

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Didnt I tell u?!?! O: We’re moving!!</I>

  <I>Me: no you didn’t fucking tell me, Hyung.</I>

  <I>Jiminie-hyung: Oh oops lol</I>

  Jungkook skipped class the rest of his classes that day- finding himself at Jimin and Taehyung’s doorstep. He rang the doorbell, and he heard Jimin’s distinct tenor muffled from the livingroom.

  “No! Don’t get up. I’ll get it,” Jimin said, shuffling quickly to the entrance. He greeted Jungkook with a dazzling smiling and stepped to the side, letting him in. Half of the apartment was already packed away, taped, and labeled in cardboard boxes. Taehyung sat woefully on the couch, scribbling on the top of one in permanent marker. His left foot was wrapped entirely in gauze.

  “I thought you said his toe,” Jungkook furrowed his brow.

  “I did, he’s just being dramatic,” Jimin shrugged.

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Taehyung chimed, replacing the pen cap. Jungkook leaned over and looked at the box.

  “What does ‘blue’ mean?” Jungkook furrowed his brow, reading the top.

  “It’s one of the primary colors, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung answered, giving him a concerned look.

  “No, I-” Jungkook sighed, “I mean, is it like a code? Is blue for kitchen stuff?”

  “Blue is for blue stuff,” Taehyung answered, stretching for the tape.

  “But what is the blue stuff?” Jungkook glanced at the other boxes. They were labeled with colors as well. Taehyung glanced at Jimin.

  “It’s stuff that’s blue,” Taehyung said slowly as if Jungkook were in preschool, “Buh-buh-blue.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook threw a pillow at Taehyung’s face which he caught easily, “Are you telling me you’re just putting like things that you own that are blue in that box? You’re divvying your stuff up by color?”

  Taehyung and Jimin shared a look before staring at Jungkook, “Yes?”

  “And that makes sense to you two?”  Jungkook looked from one to the other.

  “Yes,” Taehyung said simultaneous to Jimin’s “of course.”

  “For what?” Jungkook blinked, “You know, most people separate it by room or similar stuff like coats or dvds.”

  “Yeah, <i>most</i> people,” Taehyung rolled his eyes, “This makes more sense.”

  All at once, Jungkook completely understood. They were separating all their belongings by color due to entirely separate, incongruently, but completely compatible reasons.

  “We’re going to redecorate the new place,” Jimin added, “We’re going to go to the home improvement store the first week in and look at different palettes.”

  “I know what all the blue things are and where they go,” Taehyung tilted his head.

  <i>Soulmates.</i>

  Jungkook had known Taehyung and Jimin for about three years- they were both in the music department and wound up going to different campus events. They never had classes together, but Jimin helped coach him in a dance event that the department put on last year. He had always seen them together, but there was something really peculiar about the two of them.

  Jimin walked from the kitchen with an oversized box toward Taehyung and Jungkook rushed to catch the box with his hand, easing it down to the floor.

  “This is really heavy,” Jungkook said, looking up at Jimin, “Be careful.”

  “Ah, thanks,” Jimin stood up straight, stretching his back, “I’ve been moving these all morning.”

  There wasn’t a drop of sweat on his brow.

  “Can I ask you guys something personal?” Jungkook’s eyebrows knit, staring at Jimin’s forehead.

  “What is it?” Jimin tilted his head, his eyebrows knitting in concern, “I mean, sure. Anything.”

  “I’ve never seen you guys, y’know-” Jungkook shifted. Maybe he shouldn’t ask-, “Sweat.”

  Jimin and Taehyung both shot their eyes up and Taehyung started to chuckle.

  “You think we should?” Jimin grinned, “Isn’t that presumptuous?”

  “Don’t tease him, Jiminie,” Taehyung stuck out his tongue, “Remember when we met?”

  “Oh, God-” Jimin rolled his eyes and wretched, “That was so fucking gross.”

  “So- you are, I mean,” Jungkook shifted nervously, “Soul mates?”

  “Yes,” Taehyung answered before Jimin could toy with him more, “We are.”

  “Let’s just say we’re very in tune with each others’, erm, needs,” Jimin winked at Jungkook before wiggling his eyebrows at Taehyung.

  “We fuck a lot,” Taehyung answered, waving his hand ambivalently, “A lot-a lot.”

  “Boy, I’m lucky you’re so romantic,” Jimin laughed and crossed his arms, “What makes you ask, Kookie?”

  “Uh,” <i>Because I can already feel my body starting to get into that fucked up state again.</i> “I’m doing a school project on soul mates.”

#submission #me while reading all of this: *screaming* #WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO POST IT LIKE OMFG #i'm fINE

[olympiansrpg1-blog]

Congratulations, Harper! You have been accepted as Atlas (FC: Ricky Whittle). Richard shows a lot of intensity and promise, things that we were looking for in our skeleton of Atlas. Please be sure to message the main within 24 hours of acceptances with your account, read over the checklist, follow everyone on the masterlist, and track all tags. Congratulations, once again, and welcome to Olympians!

*Below is a sample application, please bear in mind that this does not reflect everything that is expected in an application as I went into full detail of my character.

OOC information

Name/alias: Harper

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 21

Time zone: GMT+10

Triggers: Extreme gore

IC information

Skeleton wanted: Atlas

Faceclaim wanted: Ricky Whittle, Brett Dalton, Godfrey Gao, Ryan Guzman, DJ Cotrona

Character’s full name: Richard Regulus Johnson

Richard: Means "brave power", derived from the Germanic elements ric "power, rule" and hard "brave, hardy". The Normans introduced this name to Britain, and it has been very common there since that time. It was borne by three kings of England including Richard I the Lionheart, one of the leaders of the Third Crusade in the 12th century.

Regulus: Roman cognomen meaning "prince, little king", a diminutive of Latin rex "king". This was the cognomen of several 3rd-century BC consuls from the gens Atilia. It was also the name of several early saints. A star in the constellation Leo bears this name as well.

Age/Birthday: 29/August 12th

Character biography OR para sample:

You have always been a king, this is a legacy that you have always known, the blood of royals running through your veins as your father let the heavy weight of the crown turn him into something cruel and marred by years of complacency.

It all started when you were a child, little legs running around the streets of New York City with not a single care in the world. You had always had the men and women with dark suits surrounding you at all times, so much so that they had faded into the background of your life. Your father wanted to always assure that his little prince would be protected, that there was nothing to fear in this life so long as you were safe. And for some reason, you always believed him. His words were like honey, sweet and filled with liquid gold. Your earliest recollection is sitting in his lap as a child, bouncing on one knee as he promised you that you would hold the weight of the world on your shoulders one day like he did. New York City was your birthright, Olympus was yours to claim whenever he would become too old to manage it.

“Richie, all of this will be yours, I promise you.”

The words echoed in your ears at night, satin sheets comforting you in the night as you slept on peacefully, assured that nothing in this life would be amiss. It was until halfway through your seventh year that life would hit you harder than it ever had before. You can still remember the way your mother clutched your hand, a firm and tight hold as tears ran down your cherubic cheeks. You can remember your father kneeling down on his knees to apologize to you, something in his tone telling you that he was both relieved that you and your mother were leaving but mournful of it as well. That was why you never once regretted moving to Germany with her, that was why your tears stopped spilling over the moment you both climbed into that town car with all of your belongings packed up into a suitcase. It was a dawn of a new era, young as you were, you knew that you had to become something that your father would be proud of one day as he was no longer here to watch you grow.

Moving to a new country was far harder than your pre-teen mind could have imagined, getting acclimated to a new environment when all you’ve ever known was a metropolitan city where everyone spoke English and you practiced safety in numbers with employees of your father. Your mother, however, always remained resilient through it all, every wayward spill and every heartbreak, she was there to save you from it all. You were just a mere child, unsure of what the rest of the world could do to you, but it was only when you grew to a teenager did you understand the toll that you were taking on your own mother. Where you could not understand the distant look in her eyes when your father called when you were younger, you knew now that it was because of the distinct female voices that you could clearly hear on the other side of the line. Where you did not understand why you had to leave, you once began to realize the veiled truth behind it all when your father would visit for only days at a time, making excuses that he had a business to run before jetting off once more.

The more and more you grew into Germany, the same Germany grew into you. This was home, you could hardly remember the urban jungle that was New York until you were reminded that a legacy was still a legacy and it was your rightful place in the throne when you were ready to claim it. You often heard whispers, tiny inklings of the things that were happening as you would often open news articles of strange misgivings that took place there. You heard tales of the Greek who ran the city, running it amuck and controlling it with fear and power, a thorn in your side as you heard of the mere existence of Zeus and Hades, two deities that represented so much in mythology as well as being known as Cronus’ sons in them as well. The title should have been yours. After all, you were the one true child of Cronus and it was your duty to lift up the world that he had built for you, you would remind them all that it was for you. Anger was not an emotion that you often greeted with open arms, quite the opposite, really. Determination was ever present in the forefront of your mind, coaxing itself to prove your worth more and more with each passing day. It was the only way that you could show that you deserved it far more than they did, the two looming figures that were ever present in Cronus’ life where you were absent. Every time he visited, you were sure to show him just how far you had come since the last time, proving that there was far much more to you than just being his son.

It was when you graduated that you knew that you had to prepare yourself. After all, your father had promised you a kingdom, but what would a kingdom be without loyal subjects? You had no doubt that he had his own who had done his bidding for an entire lifetime, but you did not know them nor did you trust them in the same manner that he did. So, you began collecting and analyzing, only the best of the best allowed to serve as you promised them a life much more than the ones they lived now and family to always return home to. Just because yours was splintered did not mean that you could not make another one, this one stronger and with a bond better than one simply rooted by a child. You were becoming a king in your own right, growing up from the little prince your father once called you and your mother was the high priestess who you would turn to for decisions that you were not sure you could not make alone. Gone were the large eyes of curiosity that only a child could hold, gone was the innocence that your father often mistook for weakness in you, gone were the dreams of a conflictless world where you reigned supreme. It was all replaced by strong shoulders, a devious look in your eyes, and a smile that could light up the world but hands that could strike out the moment something went amiss. You became a weapon, your own body purely made for the fight, but you had others who could fight for you first before you could even raise a finger. You only looked for the genuine, the loyal, garnered and gained their trust in the most intimate way you possibly could.

It was only when you heard about the passing of Eurydice did you dare to reach out to a member of the Olympians, offering your condolences to the one who called themselves Orpheus a mere few months after the “accident”. It was easy to sway them, to pluck them from the ranks of your father’s officers and coerce them to offer up the details of the incident as well as the aftermath along with everything that came along with the gang. It did not take very long or much thought for you to open your arms up to Orpheus, knowing full well what it was like to have been left behind by someone that you thought cared for you. You did not do it out of jealousy, no, you did it because despite all the claims you make, you still have a kind heart for the wayward souls that floated through life without any semblance of a family. The strong would only be weak without a foundation, it was your duty to give that to them as well as a shelter to run to when the storm grew too strong for one person. Right before your very eyes, you all became a cohesive unit, a family that you could be just as proud of as the one you left behind, if not more. Your legacy was finally beginning to come together.

Or so you thought. When you heard the news of your father’s untimely demise, it was like a lightning bolt through your spine. You could feel death’s cold clutches coming for you too, how fitting for Zeus and Hades to have claimed the defunct family that was now Olympus as their own. You laughed at the cruelty of life, your father having left you nothing as though he had forgotten about you. Something cruel began to sprout from the ground that which you stood, balled fists at your sides as you saw your life’s purpose crash down before you. The weak would have given up, but no, you were Atlas. You were Richard Johnson, son of the once great Harvey and it was only right that you take back what was rightfully yours. They say heavy is the head that wears the crown, but not if they had been born with it pressed upon their heads... And you’ve always known  it was meant for you.

So you watched, in the shadows, allowed the prey to believe that they were predators and take each other out while you waited for a proper time to rise. You sent others out in your steed to gather information as you planned with them all, mechanically took out those who were weak in mind, but strong in body to them all. It was easy for the Olympians to become just as complacent as your father had been, never expecting those to infiltrate from the outside and wreak havoc on a place that was never theirs to begin with. You could only watch them with a laugh, lighting their world ablaze as you brought your own into New York City. They say Atlas carries the world on his shoulders: a heavy burden to bear in the face of what the world is now, but what would his purpose be without it?

You are coming for the throne and you will never lose sight of it ever again, such has always been your birthright.

Character Development:

I’d certainly love to have Richard make some really questionable decisions, letting his want for revenge truly affect him, so much so that the Titans would band together and try to urge someone into talking to him about it.

Although I’d love for Atlas to come out on top, I do think he needs a bit of a reality check. Running a mob in New York City isn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially when he only trusts a certain amount of people. Every gang needs its lackeys and you could have to be able to recruit in order to get some, something that he isn’t entirely familiar with.

Even if he wasn’t close to his father, I would still also like to have him grieve for Cronus for a little bit, especially if/when he finds out that Hera is responsible for his untimely death and it wasn’t simply a case of passing away due to age and stress.

I would also, maybe, like for the international arms dealing to eventually make its way into Tartarus, rather than just gambling. Even though Rhea is handling things in Germany for him, this is a new territory and Richard would rather have connections to things around him than those that are thousands of miles away and too far to help immediately.

Maybe an actual rational conversation between him and Zeus/Hades, where they can actually all acknowledge the fact that they’re all a little bit responsible for the fall of Olympus and maybe realizing that they all need each other to survive. This, of course, is probably far into the future.

Other:

-- Harvey was the one who put a gun in Richard’s hand as a child, urging him to learn how to shoot before he could even learn how to ride a bike. However, it was Rhea who was the one who taught him how to shoot with accuracy. She was the one who taught him where it would hurt most to shoot a man without killing them and where it would simply be a clean through and through and where the vital organs were. Like most things in his life, it seems as though Cronus would start them and Rhea would finish and forge them into an ability and so much more.

-- Prior to Orpheus’ visit to Germany, Richard was in the process of rooting a crime syndicate in the heart of Berlin, eventually planning on taking Olympus international in his time as the boss as he thought he would automatically assume the throne. With the announcement of Harvey’s death, he has left the up and rising weapons dealing venture to the capable hands of someone he trusts while he attempts claim Olympus.

-- While cruel to others, there is no one he loves more than the Titans he’s surrounded himself with. While they have strength in number, for him, that is also where they are weakest. There is nothing he wouldn’t do in order to help them in their times of need, even going on a suicide mission just to rescue them from someone else’s clutches and there is no one he trusts more to have his back when he needs them. The basis of their relationships is all founded on a mutual trust that he knows cannot be broken just by pure torture or manipulation.

-- (TW: Abuse) During his attendance at the University of Mannheim, Richard came across a puppy that had clearly not been taken care of by its owner. With matted black fur, multiple scabs, and a limp, it was only logical to him that he took the dog and nursed it back to health in the confines of his own apartment. Since then, he has found a lifelong companion in Hyas, named after the archer son of Atlas who hunted monsters. He has not left his side since that fateful night and Richard has never once thought about leaving him behind.

-- Richie holds a certain fascination for the night sky, constellations glittering as though they were alive, framed by the light of the moon. He is able to recite all the constellations by heart, a spark in his eyes as he talks about their origin stories as well. There is nothing more that he enjoys than to lay in the grass and stare up at the sky when he has the time to do so. Unfortunately, with his arrival in New York, not only is he not able to look at all the stars with the pollution in the air, but he does not have the time either.

-- (TW: Torture) Ruthless as he is, Richard is known to occasionally make an appearance during interrogations, not wanting to put Hyperion solely in charge of such an important matter despite the fact that he knows that they are the best of the best. After all, he wants to be able to have his fun with people that have crossed him as well as those who seated themselves at the feet of those who have wronged him. Though his method is not brutal, it is more emotional and mental and he often enjoys driving them crazy from simple things like loud, noisy music being played over and over on a sound system for hours and dragging a subject into freezing cold water until they crack under the pressure.

-- After the dissolution of Rhea and Cronus’ relationship, something inside of Richie changed. Though young and not quite understanding the truth of what had happened, he vowed to himself that he would never put love before his business. Though he’s had a few flings in the past, they have never been serious as he has not allowed them to be. Love is mostly an idea to him, something that is, above all, a distraction when it comes to his goals in life. While this may be true, that does not mean he does not know how to be charismatic. In fact, it’s rather the opposite. He uses his looks to his advantage, twisting his good looks whenever he can to get what he wants outside of those he considers family.

-- Though he considers manipulation one of his favorite methods, Richard is a big believer in assuring that things are done the right way by doing them himself. He is not about delegating jobs out to others to take care of, but taking part in them and putting himself in the line of fire as he is a man of action as well as showing face so others realize that he is not afraid to give his life for those he considers close. He knows that Zeus and Hades’ ultimate downfall is that they do not know their people and their people ultimately do not trust them in the same manner that his team does with him.

-- Richard’s earliest memory is one of Cronus and Rhea strolling in Central Park with him clinging onto both of their arms, his father endearingly calling him “little king” as they swung him back and forth. He can still remember the look of joy on Rhea’s face and the laughter that left his own lips as they formed one united front. It is, by far, one of his dearest memories and one he holds close to him. Though he knows he can never get that back, especially with Harvey’s demise, he hopes that his mother can one day find the same happiness with another.

 (x) (x) (x)

#sample

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Odin’s Mask

As soon as we exited the steam room, Chu Zihang stopped and leaned against the wall.

“What do you need?” I asked. I bent over, settling Ru’Yi back on my back and tying her with the wrap.

“I need water.” He gasped.

I looked around the hall and spotted the wall mounted hose. I pulled the hose out from the reel. “Hopefully, you didn’t blow the whole water main.”

I pulled the wheel to open the tap and immediately a blast water struck him directly and he had to shield himself with his arm. 

“Sorry!” I turned the wheel the other way to soften the flow.

“No, this is fine…” He picked up the hose and held it over his head until he was completely drenched.

Blood Rage and repeated use of Royal Fire raised his body temperature and increased his thirst. His took sips out of hose even though it probably tasted disgusting. 

He let the water run over his body for a few seconds and then let out a breathy chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” I asked him. I wet my hands and reached behind me to clean Ru’Yi’s dirty face.

“She… she used Blood Rage. Susie did. I didn’t think she would be able to understand that text.” 

I reached out and touched his neck with the back of my hand. “You’re really warm.”

“I’ll be okay.” He straightened up, still looking exhausted.

We heard a soft sound, like skittering feet disappearing into the distant hall. The monsters were still fleeing from us. 

Zihang glared after the sound. “We have to take those things out. Cassell’s no longer what it was. And even if it was the same… it’s shameful that they keep these things.”

He looked at me. “I want to take these things down to the lowest deck of the ship and release Royal Fire there. Burn them all.”

He was awfully weak. It was the first time he’d used his Soul Skill in months.

He grasped my chin in his hand and kissed me. His warm lips caressed mine and tears sprang to my eyes. 

“I won’t die. Don’t worry.” He murmurred.

“I don’t want to let you out of my sight again.” I sobbed.

He gently stroked the tears from my face, looking into my eyes, they were still dark but a yellow light shone in the center of his pupils. “No, Meixiu. I’m here. There’s no need to drag Ru’Yi into danger again. Go back to Lu Mingfei and Nono and protect them while I work. We have to be ready to go. If Susie’s here, Lancelot can’t be far behind.”

With one more parting kiss, he turned and ran away from me, swift like a leopard.

I hurried through the hallways, completely safe from the harassment of those monsters. My heart was beaming with joy. Chu Zihang - my Chu Zihang - was back. If we were strong before we were even stronger now. We would find who was behind this hideous Soul Skill and run him through, and then burn him to ashes!

I reached the heavy steel door, unlocked it, threw it open and was immediately knocked over by Lu Mingfei who had been pushing hard against the door to try to open it. I had to twist myself to avoid falling on Ru’Yi!

“Oh you idiot! What are you doing?!” I yelled at him.

“Sorry! Sorry! Where’s Zihang?” He helped me up off the floor. 

I gathered a sobbing Ru’Yi in my arms and rocked her back and forth looking at Lu Mingfei reproachfully. “He’s gone to kill those monsters, that’s where. But we need to be ready to leave. Susie’s here and she’s bound to bring the rest of her crew!”

“We have to find Zihang right away.” Nono walked out, looking better, but her eyes were flashing with concern.

“No, he’ll be fine!” I grinned. “Guys, his memory returned! He can use Blood Rage, and Royal Fire! He’s really back!”

“That’s… that’s amazing!” Lu Mingfei grinned. “But we still have to find him!”

“He took Odin’s mask!” Nono said, her expression grave.

My smile faded. “What does that mean…?”

“Odin’s mask has tremendous power. When he puts it on, he turns into Odin.”

My heart dropped in my chest. “Can he change back?”

“Who knows!”

My mouth closed. I felt suddenly very cold. In my life, I had met men so willing to throw their lives away. Chisei Gen, Lu Mingfei, Crow… and, until that Christmas Eve, Chu Zihang was more than willing to throw his life away for the cause of chasing dragons. But that night, I heard a different Chu Zihang, one who wanted to give up dragonslaying and live with me.

“He won’t use it. Unless he absolutely has to. He said he wouldn’t die.” I licked my lips. “He wouldn’t lie to me.”

Nono looked at me silent and serious. “I hope you’re right.”

A blast shuddered through the entire ship. I thought maybe we were being bombed or had been struck by a torpedo! The floor tilted and I shouted, backing into the wall. Panicked, I summoned a light spear and embedded it in the wall to hang on for dear life. I watched as Mingfei and Nono tumbled about, running into each other coming apart to slam into the walls.

Finally, the ship settled on its side, vibrating like it was having a seizure. A tremendous popping sound was followed by the sound of rushing water. A huge wave of frigid ocean pushed us all back into the tiny room and rapidly began to fill it. 

There was no time to think. I started cutting through the hull with my light spear. “Nono! Hold Ru’Yi above the water!”

Mingfei held on to Nono and Nono held on to my baby. My eyes burned with dragon blood and I thrust my spear up into the thick wall above me. A piece of hot metal fell into my eye and I cringed back, screaming.

“Carli!”

My head went under. The pain was unbearable. I popped back above the water and heard a voice. “Meixiu! Mingfei!”

Suddenly, the bulkhead tore open, peeling back from where I had tried to cut it. Zihang had to force it back with all his strength, shouting with the effort, his eyes a blaze of red and gold. Even with his Dragon blood high from Blood Rage, it wasn’t easy tearing through this steel plate. A hand grabbed me by the back of my collar and hauled me out of the water.

I sobbed with pain. 

“Are you alright?” His face was close to mine.

I looked at him, one hand over my eye and nodded.

Ru’Yi was next, Zihang reached down to pull her out and gave her to me. The hull was violently shaking as the weight of the crashing waves began to tear it apart.

“After I get you guys up, I have to go and find Susie.” Zihang was saying. 

“You’re going back in there?” I squeaked.

Zihang grabbed me by my arm. “I’m okay. I promised.” He said, looking me in my eyes. 

“Okay…” I said, a little stunned.

“Nono’s still hurt!” Lu Mingfei’s voice came from back inside. I could only sit stunned, wet and cold. Ru’Yi was shaking and may be suffering from hypothermia. I quickly looked around but it was impossible to stay dry and warm in the constant seaspray. I could only pray that the strength of her dragonblood would keep her alive.

“I can’t use Don’t Die on her again. It draws on the body’s own resources. If I do, she might die even if the wound heals.” Mingfei’s voice echoed from the hull.

“Okay. Let’s get her out first.” Zihang was saying, reaching down.

At this moment, a steel cable about an inch thick caught him by the neck and pulled him hard enough to break it had he not been in a state of Blood Rage.

I screamed when his face went pale from strangulation.

The massive clawed monster from before lifted Zihang to shield its face and reached up with its claws to cut his head off. It was smiling at me, reveling in our seeming helplessness. It must have seen us embrace. It must have seen the love in our eyes, because it laughed, not at Zihang, but at me.

This was revenge on me!

Behind him, it was another beast holding the steel cable and several more immortals were rising out of the sea after him!

“Nono! Quick…” Zihang gagged. “Get out of…”

An explosion of gunfire ripped up from the gap in the hull and the clawed creature was forced to drop Zihang and shield itself from the bullets. It whirled to the hole and slammed its claws down to where Mingfei and Nono were.

As soon as Zihang fell my light spear, dazzling like a comet, shot from the void and pierced the beast’s head. I held out my hand and closed my fist and the spear split into seven shining spires tearing the creature's head into chunks. Burning with rage and grief, I sent those spires after the one holding the cable and they pierced his head all at once. It fell with a limp thud.

But its hand still gipped the cable. Zihang had been pulled several feet away and now dangled off the curve of the hull. He’d stabbed Tongzi into the hull to keep himself from sliding off but the weight of the monster on the other end of the cable still constricted his throat. He pulled at it with his free hand to breath. “Get Nono out!”

I scrambled over to the gap. But both Nono and Mingfei were gone. There was only the the black water in the cabin.

I stood there with my baby in my arms, silent and still. Tears falling from my eyes. 

“Mingfei….” I whimpered.

“Nono…”

The sound of a helicopter. I looked up into the bright spotlight shining down on me. I looked over at Chu Zihang who was still struggling to breathe.

My daughter…

“Daddy?” I whispered. His voice was resounding in my mind. Louder than the helicopter, thundering like the sea.

I see you… standing on the threshold.

“It’s a terrible place…” I whimpered.

Your time is near. Do not be frightened.

“Okay…” I whispered.

I crouched down and scooted closer to Chu Zihang as the spotlight drifted from me, down to him.

“No!” He called out. His voice hoarse. “No… Meixiu! Run! Find Susie!”

I could tell he was losing strength. I wanted to tell him that they were going to kill him. But the words wouldn’t leave my throat. His struggles were becoming weaker and less frequent. It was all he could do to hang on to Tongzi.

Suddenly, someone came running. The immortals, still holding back out of fear of me, ignored her. It was Susie! She was shouting! “Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t!” She waved her hands at the helicopter. 

She was still bloody. Her clothing was torn. But she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. Then she turned and slid down the hull to reach Zihang. 

That’s when I saw the sudden beam of a laser sight move toward him. Susie must have seen it as well, because she converted her slide into a sudden leap.

Susie’s body burst apart. Momentum still carried her and she landed directly over Zihang.

His anguish swept over me like a white hot tidal current. I fell to my knees and lifted my face, screaming it into the sky. Chu Zihang was holding her, ignoring the pain and breathlessness of the cable, rocking her back and forth like she was a baby in his arms.

For a moment, I could hear his mind, his thoughts flooding out my own. “Susie, god no… please no… no… Susie… why?”

He was going to get her. I was going to go back and get her. Why did she come? Why did this happen?

There was no further gunfire. The crew in the helicopter must have realized they had made a terrible mistake.

A huge rocket suddenly shot from the helicopter. Not at Chu Zihang and I, but at the immortals. They turned and looked at it dumbly for a second before they were hit directly, swallowed by a pillar of fire that roared upwards and felt hot even at this distance.

They were ridding the ship of their weapons. I took that to mean we would be next. The boat was still sinking and the waves had reached Zihang and Susie now. He was still holding onto her but the explosion caused a huge wave to sweep over them both. When I saw him again, Susie’s body had been pulled from his arms.

“Susie!” He called out to her.

Her body floated away in the dawn light, her white face distinct in the among the floating debris, like a lost doll.

I hadn’t heard anyone cry like this, not since the mourning of Chisei Gen at the death of Sakura Yabuki, perhaps because this was something similar. Zihang didn’t have very many close people. I remembered his laughter just minutes ago when she had learned blood rage and his smile when he told her how strong she was.

I was one of the few people he still had feelings for. And one of the few others had been Susie.

I felt his emotions suddenly shift. I knew what he was about to do. His last person left in this place was still at risk. He wasn’t about to lose me.

I lowered my head, giving my silent consent. 

I heard a collective roar. The immortals were not killed by the helicopter missile and together they raised their voices, like wolves before a hunt. A wave of scorching heat radiated from Chu Zihang. A reciting of various dragon texts resonated in the air and the immortals began to echo them.

Chu Zihang forced himself to stand against the hull of the ship, surrounded by a black and red aura. He tore the steel cable from this throat with hands that had converted into heavy claws.

The wind, that had been steadily blowing out from land, suddenly shifted direction three times in three seconds. My hair tossed about my face as I watched him, a fondness growing in my own heart.

I closed my own eyes and focused on raising my dragonblood, if not to fight, then to be in solidarity with him. He was not alone in the world. He was not a monster.

They were the monsters.

The clouds that had floated so tranquil above us gathered together, thickened and darkened. I looked up, feeling the rain on my face as they descended over us in a dense column of elemental turbulence.

I looked down at Ru’Yi who was now very still and quiet. But she was okay. She was listening. “Do you hear Daddy?” I asked her gently, stroking her hair with crystalline claws.

The ship was suddenly rocked with violent explosions and fire and smoke. They’d opened fire on him. 

However, every time it appeared a piece of shrapnel would strike us, a flash of lightning came from the cloud and incinerated it. I took a deep breath and felt my back ache as those large white feathered wings pushed through my skin from between my shoulders. 

I heard the sound of hooves on metal and felt their heavy vibration through my feet.

An eight-legged horse covered in dark armor plating emerged from the cyclone. It snorted lighting and mist from its nostrils and shook its head vigorously.

Its rider, wearing a dark blue cloak, reached down his hand to me. I took it and he lifted me to sit behind him., side saddle, like a princess. My feathered white wings trailed over the horse’s rump like a wedding train.

Together, we looked up at the darkened sky. Where our eye looked, a group of golden fireworks exploded. Those golden spears of light streamed down like meteors. The surrounding area of the sea was covered by this dense meteor shower. Only when the spears of light pierced the immortals could I see that every one was a twisted tree branch.

The spears pierced every living thing, including the helicopter in front of us, sending it deep into the waves where it exploded with a dull boom.

I looked at Zihang. He was still looking at the sky and where his one eye glowed, a lava-like trail flowed down his mask.

My consciousness faded and I felt like I was in a dream for a moment. Zihang was standing, head bowed, staring into a deep abyss. He lifted his head and looked at me and I took his hand. “Let’s go.”

When I woke up, I was standing next to him, still holding his hand and time had passed. The sun was up and we were surrounded by groups of boats and helicopters.

It was the Crane group from Crow. All they found as a derelict and disabled vessel, the floating helicopter wreckage, as well as the immortals’ shrunken, mummified corpses.

Chu Zihang, Ru’Yi, and I were the only known survivors.

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Chu Zihang #Johann Chu #Susie #Chen Moutong #Nono #Lu Mingfei #Mingfei Lu