#a child is never an erroe

[driftwork]

lunch two weeks after she returns, part 8  of a serial

If an evening meal is a gesture of corruption, with the ones (ones one) she attends nearly always being the consequence of people having to negotiate situations. As much  because of the rarity and numbers of courses, as for the fact that it continues for an indeterminate length of time in an  indeterminate space, made up of indeterminate topics. With all too often determinate threats. I live from one threat to another she thinks... The exceptions are the difference that comes with the simple meals taken with her husband, an evening spent with him,  to take time away from their children and the oppressive life they live within, they sit, take off their jackets and reveal themselves, she hopes she is on just the right side of glamorous, a necklace, a small amount of other jewelry,  a top that hides the tattoos, trousers and perhaps yellow and black boots, she knows she cannot really tell. But even here as they talk about queuing theory, the politics of queues, the adventures of Imo at school,  Suki at the dojo, the children are both at home whilst their parents are happy almost released from everyday cares. Perhaps beginning to think(s) about dessert, when the phone rings. Usually when the phone rings in a restaurant like this you will have seen the receiver of the call stand up and move to stand alone in a corridor or outside. They don't do that, they ask. What is it? Briefly and sharply they speak, talk, interrogate the person at the other end of the line. We'll do this, they say. It is probably Saturday or Sunday night, they issue order-words, then more order-words, each word laden with ideology. Agree what to do next, hang up. Perhaps they'll say, before I read Deleuze and Guattari I would have spoken differently, been nicer. It's my fault if I wasn't with you, the other says. They smile at each other. Their expressions are uniquely expressive to one another as they order different desserts and espresso. What beans do you have ? He asks the waiter.  The Barista likes the medium roast best I think, the waiter says. Her husband looks at her, She  feels herself beaming at him. I'll have the dark roast,  give him the medium one, she says to the waiter. But this is not that day,  today they are not together deciding to uncork a bottle of dessert wine whilst enjoying this rare moment of […]

instead of that utopian moment its actually lunchtime, it's the middle of the week and she's in the office and she knows she is in her usual style of work clothes, though today its a black long sleeved shirt with a few red and gold threads,  black slightly shiny trousers and boots. It's been the monthly finance meeting for Hat, the three sides negotiating the meaning of the presented facts and figures, the ontological meaning of the numbers being a way of preventing some of the people in that room from killing one another. Can you be more corrupt than this?  The last ten minutes of the meeting is given over to Jeremy (one of her partners) talking about the lunch he has arranged. .  I have a prior engagement today so I cannot attend, she says, leaving and taking her people out of the boardroom. "I swear she is getting worse", the japanese woman says to the room as leaves,  she doesn't hear any of the responses. Are you coming with us Jean ?  She asks him. No, I'm on baby sitting duties whilst Erro's having lunch with you. What's it like being a step-father?  My life has become an experimental activity that may never end... It's going to be a complicated lunch as Erro finds it hard to relax and let the child be without her. She and her friend Osaka, let Erro relax in her office watching him standing in the refractory corner with the baby, introducing the baby to a few people from the floor, some Erro would  recognize she knew but others were new. Are they? Erro could feel the touch of panic in her head.  It's fine,  she said to her, whilst you were away he worked mostly from your desk  in the corner. He became a fixture, there was nobody on the software floor then. Eventually the three woman leave and go to lunch on  the roof which has a popup restaurant and a table reserved  for them in the corner. It's a gentle multicourse feast, they slip off their jackets,  hanging them carefully on the backs of chairs. She (that is to say if I am honest to the reader, I) unbuttons the top few buttons of (my) her black shirt with the red and gold threads, to let the sunlight warm my throat and upper chest. The top edge of the kelvar lined sports bra is visible in the V. Whilst others are planning on going back to work soon, some of whom are looking across the roof at her,  the director of security and two woman whose identities are vague and hidden. A few starting dishes arrive, they uncork bottles of carbonated water. As they eat people head off deep into the building. Osaka is looking at Erro over her glass, and ignoring the conversation between Erro and her about future work, waving her left hand in the air between them, says,  Enough , we all now about this, I want to know what are you going to do about him?  She wants to say; “That’s not the …” I am thinking, not for the first time that things were getting out of hand in this universe. Erro for an indefinable moment of spacetime looks confused, and then she visibly synchronizes. We’ll go with the flow and see what happens. She pauses and  forks some tomato and cucumber, you know all that stuff about long distance relationships, it’s all wrong it turns out. We just grew closer... How much were you in touch whilst you were in Madagascar? I asked. Erro produced some photos from her bag and placed them on the table eating a chicken skewer. All the time, we exchanged; messages, images, sentences, desires, miseries… She looked like she didn't want to make this confession.  I was looking down a photo of her looking pregnant on the beach. Her in overalls working on a small solar powered water desalination unit.  Serving coffee in the bar.  Looking miserable. Lonely holding stomach. What’s a lonely woman going to do when someone tries so hard… Osaka said to her putting the picture of her hugging him goodbye before her. I didn’t know then, i was a scared idiot. She was looking at me as she said this. We enjoy the afternoon  simply by enabling it to move from lunch into afternoon tea before going downstairs.  The lunchtime meal sometimes slides out as far as the beginning of evening,  a gesture of revolt against the constraints imposed on our lives.  When this happens sometimes, we become hungry again and think about an evening meal with wine and vodka,  sometimes even saki or occasional shots of japanese whisky in memory of my killing youth. None of us leave yet,  through the man of the popup restaurant is wondering who the women are. My PA appears, looking over the three of us - disreputable women, handing me the new appointment sheet, Chan and Jeremy at 4.30 is essential, Seo has buggered off, will call you later for chat. And more importantly  he says she's all right at the moment but... Send him up, bring him up actually... She watched the manager ask her about the three women. My PA smiled at him, the woman in the black top is one of the three people who owns K, the other woman is her best friend, and the other woman is being interviewed. Owner, I didn't know. You are strangers for the most part, you would never have seen them  had it not been for this lunch,  they are not charming , you shouldn't be charmed by them,  listen carefully to what they say, laugh at their jokes if you like, they won't laugh at yours. They may set the something of the world to rights.  The PA smiles at him and the passively listening waitress. It's fine, its OK, she says.  Erro leaned forward over the table, when I was coming back I was more scared of him than I was of anything else, crazy really, why did i do that[...] I decided to tell her before anyone else came. Over the last year I have financed a small unambitious gang that was about to be destroyed by.. doesn’t really matter.  Sent some people to help protect them, family and group[…] we have negotiated a deal which places additional protection for us and you in Tokyo.  Erro looked startled.  I negotiated the setup with them, Osaka said.  We did this because with you back I needed to protect us,  the three of us sitting here from  Franz and the council,  with a big internal problem. What do they do for you? Erro asked. They serve as our interface in Tokyo, to the Chinese. We have some other people embedded for the business work. They work with me, osaka , ley and chao… Erro stopped, And if things go wrong? We have people who can fight on the ground there, who we cannot support.  Never did have before. One Dragon is now a hostage,  She stopped abruptly. (I am not telling them of not doing this in the other universe.) This way our alliance with the Chinese is acknowledged and made concrete. The two ravens are good with the Chinese, and we enable, force them to compromise. If you stay then an attack on you is guaranteed to destroy One Dragon and cause a war in Tokyo. What about your sister, surely she... Erro said, fascinated despite herselves.  It's perfect, Seo knows how angry I was with her over the Hat, so Seo accepts that this is how to get forgiven, besides someone, I don't know who, close to her likes Two Ravens, pleased to see them recover,  and be used against  Franz’s family and the others, but someone does, I am very surprised by that, our business endlessly surprises us. I said admitting that I am surprised at how understanding Seo has been about this strategy.   [I am finding using the third person difficult when I really want to say this in the first, it's me sitting in a black shirt with red and gold threads who is writing this after all) I think it is because Seo felt guilty over the Hat, Osaka interjected. I realize sitting here with them, eating my second dessert, a delicious creme caramel, with a small spoon, nibbling my way to temporary heaven, that I see them as  accomplices, perhaps even as soul sisters who share similar tastes in desserts, espresso, books, film and drama, all of us exiles. Not realizing that we have made passionate choices standing together in the commons. I lean back in my chair  listening to Erro and Osaka chat about their very different youths in Tokyo. There is a touch of horror in Erro's voice quickly masked as Osaka talks about her late teenage years. Sitting in the sun, eyes closed,  the wings of birds, magpies probably in my eyes. The sound of wind, birds, voices. (If your sitting with your eyes closed, later, you have to listen - his voice says to her). Both times I arrived in this spacetime with him I have felt isolated. As Sam and I acclimatised and invented a life for ourselves in this all too broken place we have had to construct relationships, family, friendships, colleagues and beyond that people who would harm us if it was in their interests.  I (which of course means the singularity that is Sam and I) seems to be better at this than last time. She is finishing the second dessert scraping the caramel from the bowl with her spoon. She sighs contentedly, thinking that decades ago she used to be  psychopathic assassin constructed by her parents, and now I'm the kind of woman with the ability to eat two desserts in an afternoon. Erro frowns slightly at at her, If Seo is accepting this situation then,  What about Chan?  She sits upright and explains that actually it makes his position securer, tying the three sides closer together. Is that business or criminality?  Erro asked looking startled. Neither, though there is no difference, all capitalists are criminals, she explained. We are trying to ensure we remain balanced. You just have recognize what type.  What about the other guy? what was his name M... ?  He's fine,, I have forgiven him and he helped with Two ravens.

Three women,  a retired killer,  a disabled woman who lives because she is there and a non-human pretending to be a woman,  the first of them is looking  across the roof to where a man carrying Fern has emerged from the lift, and stops at the popup restaurant. Orders some coffee, a banana for Fern, he is chatting to Nancy (my PA),  she is reading Nancy's lips, what is it like  being a step father?  Hey, he says,  she came back with the baby and she bullied me into parenthood. Nancy is laughing. Such a perv, her lips say to him, but about whom I wonder.  Something you should know is that the Two ravens deal is his fault  he made a proposal, that, we could not avoid…. Osaka said gesturing at him. What? Should I ask? Erro asked  looking bewildered. Better not, he'll get that embarrassed look again, she said. Look at him, Error said to Osaka and me,  terribly short sighted, flat footed, no muscles,  runs slower than Osaka. She sighs.  But he is here holding the baby, is the baby his? Osaka asked.   I know, I know,  it's really him or nobody.  He's the one who wants to go to the cinema with me, looked after the baby today,  makes me tea, talks,  even the cat likes him.  <we can never offer him the opportunity of  leaving, we cannot offer that, there could never be anyone else.>  <It would be me and Fern alone together. I'm terrified that if I offered him the opportunity he'd leave.>  I told them that I had to go and see Chan and Jeremy. Is there anything else? No just that, Nancy says.  He hands Fern over to Erro and sits clumsily into the chair beside her. Thanks for this afternoon Nancy, he's back tonight and I missed him more than usual.  The afternoon is  crowned by a smoldering look  that escapes from her as she says this.  She thinks  it's like looking forward to a tryst.  I know,  her PA says.. She lifts Osaka up, adjusting her arm around her back and holding her upright. Hold me up please my leg is killing me. Erro watches the the three women leave, one to a meeting, the one limping and  the other will massage Osaka's leg. I look back at them sitting together at the table together and feel  as though I have been orchestrating  some decent, immoral game which  has opened another aspect of the universe to us.  Only this can explain my lack of surprise that there are three people waiting  downstairs in Jeremy's office, rather than the two I'd expected... My name is nomiko and everyday I expect terrible things to happen... The end of a lunch.

#erro #london story #wide range determinism #fiction #serial

[my-experience-with-a-experience]

Como havia te mencionado, caramba eu ando nostálgico! Pensando de como a gente começou a engajar nesse modo romântico, nas minhas tentativas e falhas e tentar te conquistar e nos inúmeros esforços que pareciam que não iam dar frutos mas deram, eu fico besta!

Eu mais me declarei por meio que querer me livrar dos meus sentimentos, se eu tomasse um fora eu ia me livrar deles mais rápido mas, você me deu um teco de esperanças e você, sendo a garota que é, me deus energias o suficiente para continuar tentando pois estar seu lado valeira a pena (e vale).

Eu ainda fico bobo pelo fato de a gente estar namorando, tipo, você sabe o quão OUT OF MY LEAGUE you are? Garota você e mais incrível do que eu em todos os aspectos, eu estar do seu lado agora me faz invencível, me sinto mortal.

E por isso não vou poupar esforços para continuar te conquistando, provando que eu ser sua escolha não é um erro.

Você me faz muito feliz, obrigado.

---------------------------------------------------

I wrote this part after I had already finished the one above but I don't want to make a new post just about that. So... Maybe it felt like I treated you like a child or that I was embarrassed to talk to you about it after you refused to make a joke about my balls. hehehe, balls.

But like you said, I'm gifted, a joke about them would be too heavy >:^D

The point is, I know you're not exactly a child or even an angel, but I know it bothers you when the subject is brought up in a strange way or when you're disrespected around the subject. And I'm really afraid of disrespecting you! But the truth is that I want to talk about naughty things with my girlfriend, you're kind of the age and not to mention you imagined yourself freacking me in the wrong HOLE (get the joke with role?).

I'm not asking us to *GF* or anything like that, I wouldn't even like that, just that it would be interesting if we stopped beging cringe before saying something like that or that I'd like to suar with you, we are a coupleeeee

Again i'm not asking to be safados all the time i just wanna say that i'm confortable with you so if you think its okay to be with me, we can be. Cause i kinda tired of *(not in a weird way), cause like, WHAT IF IN A WEIRD WAY HUH? YOU HAVE A DIRTY MIND SO GET THAT JOKE WITH DOUBLE SENTINDO AE DOG, VC SABE QUE FOI NA ZOEIRA ANYWAY MAS VAI PENSAR SOBRE DE UM JEITO ESTRANHO >:^D And I want to remind you, I respect you and I never want to fail you, you have the right and control over me whenever I cross a limit. I also want to remind you that I made two promises when I declared myself, the first is that I would not interfere with your experiences as a teenager (as I almost did about role-playing but I came back with my mind(but please dont go nuts D:) and the other is that I would never be disrespectful to you.

So yeah, i would like to say naughty things with my gf, shes one of my bros after all.

And yes, i would like to suar com você, with all respect but yeah i would like yes, you thinked about that too so i dont think is as heavy thing to say

AND, THE JOKE WAS

Se a calça rasgou cmg de boa, imagina com o monstro na forma final, its not funny but eu sei que você deve ouvir uns absurdos ai tbm

ai jesus cristo eu misturei um post fofo e com um topico contrario, me perdoa eu ainda me sinto besta por seu seu namorado e como andar nas nuvens aiaiaiaiiaia

[doodervialle]

Introduction >>

Hello, you can call me vokun, it is not my real name but it is what i am comfortable sharing here 😭

I am 16, and Scandinavian, i also live there ofc.

I use he/him.

I belive that my soul is dead, and have since i was about 6. As a child i would spent the most of my days running around in forests, finding bones smelling the dirt and wood and try to rot into the ground.

I fully belive that i am dead, but that my body is still walking around alive as it is stuck in this realm and basically keeping my soul trapped for as long as it is walking.

I do not personally belive cotards delusion is actually a delusion and i only use it for tags as i know that is how i will find people who feel as i.

I belive it is real becuse our soul and bodies are connected by feelings and feelings only, it is the only real connection we have. Feelings can physically be felt, and can be painful to our physical being as well as our emotional being. I feel dead inside, i feel a gaping void rotting in my chest, that is real to me. Even though my organs might not be to the eye physically rotting they are deteriorating in health because of my soul being dead. My soul is basically rotting my insides. Some people can die of a "broken heart" which is basically your body shutting down because a part of your soul died. That is why i belive that i am right, and not crazy.

I am all for "recovery" but it is not something for me as i will not belive in the delusion of being alive just because it is the norm.

I belive cotards syndrome is just the name given by living people to us because they will never understand that it is truth.

Some things about me.

● I am in a few fandoms, though i am not active in them, i just know about them and would love to talk abt them if you want!

Elder scrolls, fnaf, cof, little nightmares, howls moving castle, (even ninjago), probably also a lot of others that i am forgetting because my memory is ass.

●I love music, i mostly listen to black metal, dsbm, meladoic bm, but also some other metal genres and darkwave /post punk music also. (A little bit of new wave too sometimes when i am feeling frisky)

●i love nature and especially forests, mostly birch or pine. I also love flowers and plants, and animals.

● i am currntly out of school because of mental health stuff, i spend most of my time writing or drawing if i'm not out for a walk.

I am sorry for any mispellings or grammar erros english is not my first langauge.

Leftist ofc, and i practice the satanistic ideals from lavey (idk how to say that)

Anyways have a nice day JDJFKKDKD

#cotards syndrome #cotards delusion #Cotards #i want to ⭐️ve

[wvendy]

Das coisas que eu sei fazer, recomeçar é a que eu mais faço.

Olá,

Meu nome é Geovana Carolina, mas eu também atendo por Dreafy, Wvendy, Carolina... Sou uma mulher de 27 anos, com uma mente tão cheia de coisas que às vezes elas não cabem dentro da cabeça.

Sou uma filha única, e como tal eu tinha apenas a minha própria companhia para brincar, acabei me tornando bem criativa, isso e o fato de meu pai sempre me ler livros com temáticas de fantasia. Sendo introvertida e muito introspectiva criava mundo imaginários e fantasiosos para escapar da minha realidade solitária, mas isso não quer dizer que eu fui uma criança triste.

A partir da minha adolescência passei a ser uma intensa leitora e como era de vir com o tempo passei também a contar minhas próprias histórias. E isso me ajudou muito a passar por essa fase da vida tão complicada.

Eu nunca parei de contar minhas histórias, sendo pra mim mesma ou para amigos próximos. Mas eu sempre tive um problema de deixar coisas inacabadas e isso se tornou parte de mim em muitos âmbitos da minha vida, inclusive na minha fase adulta. Eu começava algo e quando eu queria desistir eu simplesmente apagava tudo sobre aquilo e fingia que nunca existiu (pelo menos por um tempo).

E muitas coisas na vida adulta não dá pra fazer isso, então imagine o sofrimento que passei quando eu tinha que me forçar a fazer algo que eu não queira mais.

Há um tempo comecei a postar alguns vídeos na internet, porém, chegou um ponto em que eu fiz o que eu sempre faço, desisti e apaguei tudo relacionado. Mais por conta da minha vontade de fazer tudo bem feito e de não ter tempo, já que trabalho 44h semanais e nas horas vagas sou estudante universitária.

Bom, a reviravolta dessa história acontece agora, estou saindo do meu emprego esse final de ano (não por vontade própria) e estarei caçando emprego, mas no meio tempo em que não terei um trabalho quero fazer coisas que eu gosto e que eu descobri que gosto. E tive a ideia de compartilhar isso com outras pessoas, já que tenho vontade de postar conteúdo na internet.

Quero trazer para cá histórias em forma de gameplays, DIYs e indicações de leituras. Já que das coisas que eu faço melhor, recomeçar é o que eu mais faço, nada mais justo do que ter meus vários recomeços guardados em um lugar no qual eu possa ver e refletir sobre meus erros e avanços.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello,

My name is Geovana Carolina, but I can also be called Dreafy, Wvendy, Carolina... I'm a 27 year old woman, with a mind so full of things that sometimes they don't fit inside my head.

I'm an only child, and as such I only had my own company to play with, I ended up becoming quite creative, that and the fact that my dad always read me fantasy-themed books. Being introverted and very introspective, I created imaginary worlds to escape my lonely reality, but that doesn't mean I was a sad child.

From my adolescence I became an intense reader and, as time went by, I also began to tell my own stories. And that helped me a lot to get through this phase of life that was so complicated.

I never stopped telling my stories, whether it was to myself or close friends. But I always had the problem of leaving things unfinished and this became part of me in many areas of my life, including my adult life. I'd start something and when I wanted to give up I'd just erase everything about it and pretend it never existed (at least for a while).

And in many things in adult life you can't do that, so imagine the suffering I went through when I had to force myself to do something I didn't want anymore.

A while ago I started posting some videos on the internet, however, there came a point where I did what I always do, gave up and deleted everything related. More because of my desire to do everything well and not having time, since I work 44 hours a week and in my spare time I'm a university student.

Well, the twist of this story happens now, I'm leaving my job at the end of the year (not willingly) and I'll be job hunting, but in the meantime when I won't have a job I want to do things that I like and that I discovered that I like. And I had the idea to share this with other people, since I've been wanting to post content on the internet.

I want to bring here stories in the form of gameplays, DIYs and reading recommendations. As of the things I do best, starting over is what I do most, nothing fairer than having my various restarts kept in a place where I can see and reflect on my mistakes and advances.

#daily diary #self reflection #post

[fierypen37]

Virtue a Veil, Vice a Mask: Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Daenerys watched Jon murmur to his black, the setting sun picking out highlights in the glossy black of his hair, mirrored by his mount’s wavy mane. Her Jon looked quite fetching in his Dothraki garb. The laced leather vest struggled to contain the breadth of his chest, and sandsilk clung to his form. Jon clicked his tongue, urging the black to follow. The stallion, his coat gleaming from currying and oiling, ambled after Jon, ears pointed out, relaxed. A fine match. The black took a saddle and bridle now, though Jon had yet to ride him. Rakharo and Kovarro often spent the whole riding day cramming Jon’s head full of ‘helpful’ advice. Daenerys was caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance at the development. She had become accustomed to Jon’s unwavering attention—though among Dothraki, discussion of horseflesh was as commonplace as breathing.

Daenerys leaned back against the support of their tent and closed her eyes. The peace of the moment sank into her soul. The sweet-sharp smell of crushed grass rose around her, the humming chorus of insects and birds. Dying sunlight bled to a warm amber from behind her eyelids. A rumble stirred her. Clouds brewed thick and grey to the south. Her khalasar was careful to stake the tents deeper, and cookfires were laid within the tents. A storm was coming. The three dragons could sense it too, and snored off a big meal in their niches. Daenerys rose. It would be best to tour to camp, just in case. The tents were arranged in a spiral pattern, with the khal’s in the center. Daenerys hurried to help one of the young mothers who struggled with her water yoke. She heaved one of the leather-wrapped buckets within the tent. Two young children played on the horsehair rug, one a chubby infant girl who chewed on a carved wooden horse; the other toddled toward the cookfire.

“Ah-ah, careful little one,” Daenerys said in Dothraki, snatching him up and kissing his forehead. The boy’s lip stuck out at being stymied from his goal, so he contented himself with toying with the gold coils taming Daenerys’ braids. She relished the solid weight of him, the trust and joy in his black eyes. The old ache flared to life. As Drogo’s bride, she longed to quicken, if only to earn a reprieve from his abuse. As time passed, she thought perhaps a child would be someone she could lavish with love. Tears stung her eyes. She would never see a babe with Jon’s curls, or his scowl, his sudden smile, and her heart broke anew. The young boy, bored, squirmed to get free. Daenerys set him down on the rug beside his sister. Daenerys couldn’t resist holding the infant, breathing in the fresh scent of her. Dothraki did not name their children until after they reached their first year. She was a lovely little thing, copper-brown skin and bright black eyes.

“Thank you, khaleesi,” their mother—Ifakki—said as she ducked under the lintel.

“It’s no trouble. Erro had ideas about playing with the firepit,” Daenerys said. Ifakki stroked Erro’s tuft of black hair lovingly.

“He’s a strong one, like his father. He’ll be riding before long,” she said, glowing with pride. Her husband, a rider in Drogo’s ko had fallen in the same battle where Drogo had earned the wound that killed him. Daenerys swallowed the lump in her throat.  

“I’ll leave you to your supper. Have a care, there may be a storm tonight,” Daenerys said. As she left Ifakki’s tent, Aggo and Grey Worm waited. Aggo stood watch, Grey Worm cleaned his nails with his eating knife in practiced nonchalance. Even within their camp, her bodyguards were assiduous on matters of her safety.

“Qoy Qoyi,” she said, patting Aggo’s elbow as she passed.

“Where is Missandei?” Daenerys asked Grey Worm. The Unsullied’s dark eyes softened as they only did when discussing Missandei of Naath.

“She is anchoring the tent. Again. She worries,” he said. Grey Worm did not worry. No Unsullied did, in Daenerys’ experience.

“We’ll check your tent on our way back.”    

As she walked, she helped with tent ropes, stoked fires, carried water. One girl tore her honeycake in half and gave it to Daenerys. The sweetness of the treat and the gesture melted her heart. Passing riders offered lamekh, she took a swing to please them. They cheered and laughed. Daenerys frowned as she squinted into the dusk.

“Iqi! Don’t let the others run too far! There’s a storm coming!” she shouted from cupped hands. The lanky young girl along with three of her friends froze like deer under a hunter’s eye.

“Yes, khaleesi!” they shouted dutifully.

“Where is your sun-and-stars, khaleesi?” a rider Jhoqo asked as he fletched arrows by his fireside. His wife Sari pressed a skewer of peppered mutton on Daenerys, fresh from the fire.

“My husband has found a stallion to whisper sweet nothings to,” Daenerys jested as she took a ginger bite. Grease dribbled down her chin. It was hot, juicy, and delicious. The rider grinned.

“It is one of the finest things in this life, to tame your horse,” he said, almost dreamily. Daenerys bit her lip around a comment on how his young bride must miss him in the midst of the taming.

Moving on, Daenerys looked aside and found Jon some five tents downhill. A rush of pleasure filled her at the unexpected sight of him. He had a massive rick of wood on his back, trailing after Eyelli. By any reckoning, Eyelli was beautiful. Tall with silky black hair, and supple curves accentuated by her sandsilk gown. A shoot of jealousy sprouted, but Daenerys dug her heel onto it. Jon had proved his devotion a hundred times over. Still, men’s eyes wander. They want what they haven’t yet tasted. Daenerys hated that voice in her head. Jon set the rick where Eyelli gestured, saying something to her. Dothraki was a difficult language to master, but her dragon had made admirable inroads to learning it. Eyelli batted her eyes at Jon, twining a strand of her hair around her finger. Even in this, Daenerys didn’t begrudge her. She was a shameless flirt. Daenerys once joked the older woman would bat her eyes at a fencepost if it was carved right.

Jon dusted his hands and gave her a polite nod. Despite herself, a knot of tension loosened. Behind her left shoulder, Aggo muttered something. That and Grey Worm’s answer were voiced too low for her to hear. Daenerys was watching Jon, and knew when his eyes found her in the crowd. It was as if a candle was lit within him. His countenance brightened, and Daenerys felt shamed for the inkling of doubt.  

“Dany!” Jon called, loping to reach her. Daenerys jumped into his embrace. Gods, she would never grow accustomed to this. The sheer rightness of Jon’s arms holding her. He feels like home. She loved the rich masculine smell of him, the glide of sweat-damp skin, his glancing kiss of greeting.

“Where to next?” Jon asked, braiding their fingers together.

Together they finished their tour of the camp. All was as safe as possible. Daenerys and Jon spent some time in Grey Worm and Missandei’s tent, checking the support beams and re-anchoring the stakes. Baskets were prepared with essentials in case they must flee. It brought her friend a measure of comfort.

“Keep the little ones close, tonight. Those clouds are an ill omen,” Daenerys told Irri as they returned to their tent. Irri’s sister had died in childbed, so she raised the babe and her older sister.

“As you say, khaleesi,” she said, squeezing Daenerys’s arm.

A strong gust of wind buffeted them, startlingly cold after the warmth of the day. Gooseflesh dimpled on her bare arms, making the fine hairs stand on end. An ill omen, indeed. There was no time to flee. From horizon to horizon, black clouds loomed like the gods’ cathedrals. They were safer with camp made, buckled down to weather the storm. Or so she comforted herself. Had she made the wrong decision? Would she end up getting all her loved ones killed?  

In the warm quiet of their tent with naught but her thoughts, Daenerys paced. Jon took his ease on a heap of cushions, his expression grave. His left hand tapped a nervous tattoo on his thigh.

“What do the Dothraki do when storms break? I confess, I’ve never weathered a bad storm without stone walls and a shingled roof to keep the rain off.”

Daenerys laughed without humor.

“My women have told me stories of whole khalasars lost in storms on the Sea. Tents are no match for winds that fierce. And if the corral lines break and the horses are lost, we might die of thirst on the grassland.” She watched Jon digest this, and wondered again if regretted joining her in Essos. He jumped to his feet with his usual easy grace and laid his warm hands on her shoulders.

“It is a good thing we have Daenerys Stormborn as our khaleesi, then.”

Daenerys laughed again, and the sound was choked with half-hysteric tears.

“You’re being ridiculous to make me feel better,” she said. The exchange had become a shared joke between them. Jon bumped his forehead against hers.

“Is it working?” Jon asked. Daenerys wheezed a breathless laugh and shook her head, too worried to jest.

“Not this time,” she whispered. Jon embraced her, murmured comforting words in Valyrian as he petted her hair.

“We’ll be all right. You’ll see,” Jon promised.

A chill crept in as night fell. Jon stoked the fire, then dressed in his Westerosi tunic, boots and swordbelt. Daenerys donned a woolen tunic and pulled trousers and boots on beneath her beaded leather overskirt. It was a practical thought. Dressed and ready to face whatever awaited them. They lay fully dressed on their bed. Maybe she dozed, because Jon’s muttered curse startled her. Daenerys blinked. Drogon, Tessarion, and Vyrmax watched them from the edge of the bed. Thunder boomed overhead, loud enough to shake the supports. Drogon, poised on her arm, screeched—defiant even against the weather.

“Lyks, my love,” Daenerys murmured, guiding the three of them into bed. Drogon curled on Daenerys’ chest. Vyrmax found a place on Jon’s. Tessarion stretched out between them. Daenerys found Jon’s hand and squeezed it. The rain began soon after. Heavy sheets of pounding rain beat down on the leather coverings. A gust of wind made the whole tent sway and groan, as if in travail. In no time the fire was doused, leaving them in the dark. Daenerys squeezed Jon’s hand. Comfort she could find in Jon’s grey eyes, but no answers. Jon rose to light the oil lamp with the striker. The spangled shapes of its designs, usually so comforting, seemed vaguely sinister in the deep dark.

Time trickled by. Despite the Dothraki’s skill at choosing campsites and raising tents, soon puddles began to seep through the reed mats. Jon cursed under his breath, rolling off their sleeping furs as the seepage became a trickle, soaking the fur. Vyrmax squawked in protest and climbed up Jon’s body to sit on his right shoulder. Daenerys rose, clutching Drogon and Tessarion.

“We shoul—” Whatever Jon was going to say was lost as lightning knifed across the sky. Dazzling brightness lit the tent for a fraction of a heartbeat, then thunder roared so loud, it hurt Daenerys’ ears. Gods, what should she do? What was there to do? There was no higher ground. The plains extended for leagues in any direction.

“What do we do?” Daenerys whispered. The lighting burst again, stretching like jagged fingers across the sky, visible even through their leather and canvas tent.

“Khaleesi! Khal Ahesh!” Aggo’s deep voice pierced the night. Daenerys ducked under the oilcloth. The rain pounded, dousing her. She clamped Drogon and Tessarion tight to her, lest the wind snag in their wings and be lost. Their warmth was like cradling sunlight.

“Aggo, what’s happened?” Daenerys asked. Jon followed, buckling his sword with Vyrmax tucked in the crook of his elbow. Her bloodrider’s woven grass and horsehair clothing was plastered to his body.

“Several tents collapsed! Come!”

Daenerys set the dragons down. The winds were too keen, too turbulent.

“Stay here, my loves,” she said.

Daenerys and Jon splashed after him, water soaking through her boots. The puddles were ankle-deep in some places. A gust of wind, buffeted her, the cold rain a sharper sting. One foot slipped in the mud, she landed hard on her knees. The thunder roared like the throats of thousand dragons. Jon hauled her up by one arm.

“Come on, my love. Come!” he shouted over the din of the rain. They sloshed through the maze of tents. In the grey blur, there was the occasional copper-skinned face watching with wide eyes. Aggo skidded to a stop. Oh gods.

“Ifakki!” Daenerys shouted. The tent was naught but a heap of leather and canvas, the snapped supports were like the jagged yellow of old bone. Rakharo and another rider were already heaving and cursing at the weight. Within, Erro was screaming.

“Ifakki! Ifakki!” Daenerys shouted again, circling the tent. Erro babbled something too garbled to understand. Why wasn’t Ifakki answering them? Daenerys stumbled. The puddle was up to her shins. Cold water over sucking black mud. She fumbled in the dark, heaving at the leather screen. Soaked with the rain, it wouldn’t budge.    

“Jon! Jon, your sword!” Daenerys said, swiping the dripping sheet of her hair from her face. Jon unsheathed the sword. Lightning cracked and the blade gleamed like a blade of silver.

“Step back!” he said. Jon hacked at the leather. The blade sliced through clean. Daenerys peeled the flap back. Ifakki, where was she? Erro’s crying raised to a shriller, sharper shriek as the rain doused him.

“Come here, baby. You’re all right,” Daenerys cooed, hauling him into her arms. Blood matted his hair. The rain began hail, thudding painfully on her head and shoulders.

“The baby, Jon. The baby and Ifakki. We have to find them,” she said, clutching a shrieking Erro. Tiny arms and legs wound tight around her. Jon sheathed the sword and stepped in behind her. The main support of wood was a heap in the firepit. Even under shelter, the rain and wind howled in their ears.

“Rakharo! Fetch a healer!” Jon shouted. Daenerys felt around in the pitch darkness. Soaked reed mats, the jagged edge of a clay pot, soot from the doused firepit.

“Hush, hush, little one,” Daenerys murmured, rubbing Erro’s heaving back. His shrieks quieted to a hiccupping whine, babbling in broken Dothraki.

Jon heaved at the central support. A soft cry of pain.

“Ifakki? Are you well?” Her voice sounded weak and small. Daenerys crawled in the gap Jon made, slithering on her belly like a snake through cold mud. She reached out, finding solid flesh. Her back. Daenerys laid a palm flat on Ifakki’s back. Still breathing.

“She’s alive! Hurry!” Daenerys shouted, bracing her back against the broken support to clear space for Jon. She gasped at the weight, her numbed legs trembling. Her husband fumbled, cursing fluently under his breath.

“I’ve got her,” he gasped. “The baby?” “Ifakki has her.”

Pellets of hail struck them as they hauled Ifakki out. Riders and healers were waiting. The healer peered at Ifakki. The darkness was near-complete, save for the vivid flashes of lightning.

“Gather the injured in out tent!” Daenerys shouted. She reached for Jon. The touch of his strong hand warmed her frozen heart. The darkness hid his expression, but she thought they would be one in this. His strength was needed to free those trapped. Her hands and her dragons could warm the injured. Daenerys kissed his hand, tasting mud.

“Be safe,” he whispered.

It was a long cold slog back to their tent. Her sons greeted her, wind from their wings rocking her. Daenerys felt tears gather in her eyes. No time to let them fall. She ushered her people in. The reed mats and furs were soaked, but the tent stood fast. Missandei and her handmaidens joined them. Daenerys fell into Missandei’s arms.

“Are you well, Dany?” Missandei murmured into her hair. Choking on her guilt, Daenerys couldn’t speak. She shook her head. Even without language, Missandei always seemed to understand. Together, they turned to meet the task at hand.  

Daenerys braved the storm to fetch more firewood. Irri expertly laid it.

“I do not know, khaleesi. The wood is too wet, it will not take,” she said. Daenerys held out her arm, and Drogon flapped to rest on her elbow. She nearly staggered under his weight. Gods, he was getting heavy.

“Drogon, dracarys,” Daenerys said, pointing to the heap of soaked wood. Drogon opened his maw and black fire shot out in a stream. The heat and light were blindingly brilliant in the roaring dark. The wood caught, and Drogon closed his mouth, cutting off the flow.

“Oh well done, my love!” Daenerys said, kissing his frilled head. Drogon settled on her shoulder, looking almost smug. Her Dothraki exclaimed in surprise and delight.

With the fire lit, her women and riders worked with brisk efficiency. A cauldron was set over the fire to warm water for teas, soaks, and tinctures. Linen for bandages, vinegar for cleansing. The injured were laid out. Any vestige of good humor fled. Daenerys moved from pallet to pallet, murmuring comfort. The healer cleaned and wrapped little Erro’s head with a strip of linen. He amused himself with the jewel-bright shards of her dragons’ eggs. His mother Ifakki was the worst off. Her left eye was swollen shut, the skin taut and swollen with blood. Something had struck her. And the baby . . . Daenerys’ throat closed. Too limp, too quiet. Daenerys eased her free of Ifakki’s embrace. That sweet plump face was still, her eyes closed. There was no obvious injury, but the answer was clear. A sob broke free, and Daenerys bowed over the babe’s body. My fault. I’m so sorry little one.

Hours passed. More injured were carried in. Jon and her bloodriders returned, freezing and soaked to the skin. Ifakki did not wake. Daenerys held vigil over her during the long hours of the night. The storm did not relent until after dawn had broken. All told, there were a dozen collapsed tents and twice that number injured. Only Ifakki and her little girl perished. Daenerys looked to the breaking clouds and the sweet warm touch of the sun and at last closed her eyes. Safe now.    

#jonerys fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #virtue a veil vice a mask #road trip with dragons

[rosecat5]

Headcanons i have for Clyde and Chris being friends :"D

Clyde is my friends oc @dancinggh0stlings @h0lygh0stings 💛🌻

Pls correct me if i am heavily wrong with something here, or made you uncomfortable with something ^^" But i would love to see your ideas to headcanons for both of them :")

Both introverts!

Spending time together, but alone together?! yes please!

Love sitting in a quiet room together, maybe with some music in the background, with each of them sitting in a corner by themself and read!

They both like peace am quiet

Staying away from other people most of the time, and minding theire own buisness

Its not like they are missing out on much tho

Clyde and Chris share the deep feeling of always feeling weird around other people, not quite fitting in

Althou this feeling might be more stronger for Clyde

With both of them being more the restrained type, Clyde is defenetly the more shy one

Even tho Chris could be rather shy himself, especially if he has a crush on someone, he is the more outgoing of the two of them

That also means once Chris knows someone better, he can turn pretty loud and wild

Even so, Clyde is never anoyyed by him

He lets Chris rant and ramble about everything and nothing, while listening closely to him venting

I actually headcanon Chris with ADHD traits, so that might be the reason for him being so hyped sometimes

They both dont like smalltalk tho

They talk about sex, death, astrologie, spiritual growth, magic, aliens, the storys you dont tell someone until its 3am, lies you have told somebody, childhood memorys and the trauma that comes with some of them, insecurities and fears, theire favourite sence and the food they like the most

Probably Chop Top joins them in these conversations, while you can hear Drayton yell at them that its 4 in the fucking morning, and they need to shut up already XD

Clyde needs to have all theire things organized, and while Chirs does like it clean he is the more chaotic one

Chris is gratefull that he can help Clyde tyding up, with him taking the lead Chris can actually focus on cleaning for once and not drown in his chaos

Chris probably still gets distracted, and plays with some things he randomly found or starts doing little bone crafts with Nubbins who had joined him at some point

Please dont be mad at them Clyde, thes are not doing it on purpose

Get theire attention back to yoi again, and thed will be happy to apologize and start helping cleaning up again

They both have a hard time going along with theire familys

Being both the black sheap, and problem childs in theire familys

They genuinely adore each other

I really think they would get along great, and are really fond of each others company

Although they dont have any sexual or romantic attraction to each other, Chris tell them on a regular basis that he loves Clyde

And he does, in a way! More like a close friend of course, and meaning it more like he loves him as a soulmate

It always makes Clyde blush, but they feel the same for Chris

It is not an Erros love, it is a Philia love

Although Chris doesnt have a problem with talking very directly about it

Might be because he is an open homosexual

With that said, Clyde nevee felt uncomfortable around Chris

Most People would probably, especially in the time of the 70's, but Clyde treasured theire friendship way to much for letting such a little thing getting between them

And why would he, it was never even was a problem in the first place

Chris respects Clyde they/them pronunce highly, and trys to remember and use it whenever ge can

When they both feel in a goofy mood they tease each other

Clyde holds things up so Chris cant reach them, and Chris tells him the're old already

Clyde is the older and taller one of them, so its easy for him to hide shit at a higher place wich makes chris feral XD

To be fair, its not hard to be taller then Chris...

Therefor Chris of course is a little bit younger than Clyde

Clyde was born 1947 and Chris 1950

Chris Birthday is in october, making him a Libra

While Clyde was born in november wich makes him a Scorpio

How the hell did they end up in Texas?!

They both hate fucking Texas XD

Way too hot...

Clyde gets sunburned so easily

They are both very kindhearted and gentle beings

Althou its not always good for them

Clyde is probably more likely to give someone another chance, after someone fucked up 3 time already

While Chris is the one to flipp someone off after they fucked up the second time XD

#texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #tcm 2 #bubba sawyer #oc #oc tag #tcm oc #tcm headcanons

[plantvenuss]

Florian . M X Black! reader - They’re gonna love you like I do -

[ CHRISTMAS DAY SPECIAL ]

If you’re interested on any previous Plantvenuss’ Christmas Series, click here ] 🍒!

Summary : Florian’s about to meet your parents for the first time and is extremely nervous about first impressions, after some reassurance Florian pulls it together and manages to make the introduction better than expected.

[ WORDING ERROS/ MISTAKES]

WARNINGS : Extremely light mentions of sex.

-

-

“Merry Christmas!” You cheered, jumping on the sheet silks and straddling a very cheerful Florian. He laughed, the rumble of his happiness vibrating your legs, making you giggle too.

He snaked his hands to your waist, the feel of your warm skin against his cold palms satisfying him. Using your waist to pull you forward he kissed your forehead, then trailed his way down to your nose and to your lips. Each kiss a sweet, lingering one that left tingles against your skin.

His lips were the only thing that was warm about him, the rest of his body cold because you liked to hog the sheets up so much. You hummed against his mouth, the all to familiar feeling buzzing up something inside of you.

Reluctantly you pulled away and took a moment to look at your lover, your boyfriend. 

His eyes was what you loved the most about him, although it was winter and the sun didn’t shine that often, his eyes still found a way to sparkle, which made you feel special because the sparkle only happened when he was truly happy; and they seemed to sparkle the most whenever you were with him.

“Merry Christmas, fetiță.” 

Your heart soared at the sound of your nick name, the way it rolled off of his tongue had you longing for things you didn’t have time for. And so you forced yourself off of him, but not without teasing him. As you rolled off, you slid your hand: very slowly. Across his thigh, brushing against the tip of his cock you left your hand there, looking into his hungry eye momentarily before you slid your hand the rest of the way, walking towards the bathroom.

-

You were driving, and Florian was holding your hand the whole time to subside his nerves. Throughout the drive Florian would barley speak, he had brought up the issue about his anxiousness when it came to meeting your parents, but you always reassured him when you said they would love him like their own, because it was the truth.

But the truth mattered very little to Florian at the moment. He had tried to fall asleep, twice but his nerves kept on jolting him awake. You had even tried to play some soothing music to distract him, but that only seemed to make things worse. You hated that he felt this way, you wanted him to feel confident because that’s who Florian was. A big, tall, humble and confident man.

When you pulled up at the driveway Florian was still holding your hand, It was dark outside and the snow had just stared to coat around the wreath your parents had hung up on their front door.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” You assured him, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Gathering everything you needed from the car and Florian’s flowers: that he had very sweetly bought for your mother. You stood on the door step, hand filled with bakeries that you had spent hours cooking a day prior.

You knocked, and before you could even retract your hand the door was swung open, an behind it was your mother who had a very sweet smile plastered across her face. She was in the red christmas apron that she wore every Christmas since you were a child, she took very good care of it and that’s why it never worn out. Her hair was slicked back, her tight curls falling across her face very lazily, she wiped her hands on the apron, took the bakeries you had in your hand and placed them on the small key table you had beside your door.

“(Y/N), It’s so good to see you.” She laughed, bringing you in for a hug, you laughed at how she was acting and pulled away to introduce your boyfriend, who stood with a small smile placed against his lips.

When your mother pulled away, it was almost as if she blushed for the first time, like you could see the redness forming under her toffee skin, you squeezed Florians hand when you were done introducing him. He stuck out his hand awkwardly for a handshake, and your mother swatted it away, pulling him in for a longer hug instead.

“It’s so good to finally see you, Florian. (Y/N) wont shut up about you.” 

You playfully gave her the warning eye, and she smiled an innocent smile. It’s what she did with every boyfriend you introduced to her.

Without saying anything else he pulled the flowers from behind his back and handed them to her, using his hand to squeeze your waist instead. She gasped and patted his cheek, bringing in for another hug.

“Okay, Mum that’s enough.” You said, after seeing she was getting far too comfortable with your boyfriend, she ushered you in, shooing Florian to the living room to get to know your brothers and your Dad. You wish you were there to help him at least, but your mum was keeping you hostage in the doorway, interrogating you.

“Where’d you find a man so fine like that?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Mum!” you whined, trying to push past her so could assure Florian, but she blocked the door with her arm.

“When you told me he was handsome, you failed to tell me he was handsome, handsome.”

You gave her a serious look, and she returned one back.

“I know right?” You squealed beside her, high-fiving her when she raised her hand. After the giggles died down and you were finally invited in, she made sure she made it clear that she wanted grandchildren as soon as possible.

Ignoring her you found Florian talking with your father about football, which was what you should’ve guessed when you saw your father hunched over the table. You went to go and sit on his lap but quickly moved when you remembered where you were and how your father was looking at you, as if he was warning.

When your mother announced she was going to continue cooking, Florian instinctively stood up, rolling his sleeves to help her. It was a force of habit , being the only child Florian understood the heavy-load of cooking for a whole family could be for a mother, especially around christmas time.

When your father had saw how Florian practically jumped at the idea of helping your mother he nodded, leaning back in his chair with a smile on his face, you suddenly felt a wave of relief swarm into your chest. 

-

“The food was delicious, thank you.” Florian said after both of your parents walked you to your car; even though you repeatedly told them you were fine.

Your father shook his hand, whilst your mother hugged him for the one-hundredth time this night. You were pretty sure Florian’s spine was screaming with the amount of times he had to bend down to your mothers height to hug her.

Once you pulled out and drove down the road you turned to him, a wide smile sat on his face.

“I told you it wouldn’t go bad!” you cheered, making sure to keep both of your hands on the steering wheel, scared that your over-excitement would ruin the rest of your already perfect night.

He smiled to himself stupidly, gliding his hand to yours and intertwining them. He carefully pulled your non-dominant hand away from the wheel, placing a warming kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, so much, fetiță.”

#florian munteanu #florian munteanu x black reader #creed ii #ivan drago #viktor drago #x black reader #christmas series

[kayah16]

Mother’s Day (HAHN

Mother’s Day (HAHN)

Amanda felt like she had just gotten off a rollercoaster ride and wanted to throw up. Ever since she’s been back her emotions have been all over the place. On one hand she was happy to be back with the people she loved except Wyatt and Jim. While she was away, she tried to think of positive things about those two. Each time she did she got a headache.

Not one good thought crossed her mind. When Spencer asked her about them, she couldn’t say anything good. Sometimes she ended up crying when she thought about them. Sometimes she didn’t answer Spencer, she just ignored him until he talked about something else. Sometimes she would stare at nothing as bad memoires came back to her.

The way Wyatt talked to her and treated her. Spencer never questioned her about Jim and Wyatt again. He didn’t like how it affected her the same way Candace affected her. He didn’t want nothing or nobody stopping the positive progress his girlfriend was making. One person that didn’t cause a negative effect on Amanda was her Mother.

Yes, Katheryn had her ways and sometimes her words cut like a knife. But Amanda knew her Mother loved her. Amanda wanted to call her Mom so many times, but she couldn’t and that hurt her. Not knowing how her Mom was doing. Wondering if she found a man who cared for her, treated her right, and would love her Mom for the wonderful person she was.

Was her Mom rough around the edges? Yes. Could her Mom make a grown man piss himself like a child? Yes. But she still deserved to be treated correctly and that was a huge hope for Amanda. Even though he annoyed her, Amanda was grateful for the help Eddie gave her from helping her leave to helping her return. She was also grateful that Ms. Hanna was still apart of her Mom’s life. All Amanda wanted was for her and her Mom to have a better relationship than they did before. Katheryn had yet to adjust to the news that her daughter was alive. The tears she shed. The sleepless nights she had. The many times she beat herself up for not following her gut.

The arguments she had with Jim about Amanda’s mental health. Katheryn didn’t know what to feel or how to feel. All she knew was her daughter was alive and well. She was thankful that Hanna was there for her. She avoided her daughter’s messages until Hanna told her to go hear what Amanda had to say. That’s why she accepted going to meet her daughter and her boyfriend for a Mother’s Day Brunch.

The silence and awkwardness between Mother and Daughter was thick as they sat across from each other in the small diner. Spencer kept tapping his fingers against the table looking between his girlfriend and her Mother. Clearing his throat, he wanted to say something without offending them but maybe to get communication started between them.

“Uhm, if I may, my Mother is a paranoid schizophrenic and there are some days she doesn’t remember me. It was a time I was ashamed of her. But not anymore, I cherish any moment I can get with her. I know maybe your past isn’t the best and there is some hurt from you thinking Amanda was dead, but you guys have a chance to make new memories with people who love you.”

At that statement Katheryn and Amanda looked at each other hurt in both of their eyes. Spencer reached over grabbing his girlfriend’s hand to support her knowing she wasn’t the best with expressing herself.

“Amanda, I’m sorry.”

Mama Katheryn took a few minutes to collect her next thoughts as Amanda looked at her boyfriend shocked.

“I wasn’t the best Mother and looking back at everything, I could have been better. I could have showed you love better, but I didn’t. I thought money, the best schools, anything you wanted at your fingertips I thought that was showing you love. I was wrong. That wasn’t the proper love you needed, and I can’t redo the past, but I would love to be the proper Mother for you now.”

Amanda was full blown crying now as Reid tried to comfort her. He was still getting used to dealing with women’s emotions, but he was getting the hang of it. Katheryn moved from her seat and Reid took that as his cue to get up. When he did Katheryn sat next to her daughter wrapping her arms around her letting her daughter cry on her. Katheryn’s own tears came down as she held her daughter. After ten minutes of crying Amanda separated herself from her Mother laughing softly seeing her Mom crying as well. Amanda wiped her Mom’s face with a napkin and Katheryn wiped her daughter’s face both smiling at each other.

“I’m sorry Mom, I never meant to hurt you. I would love for us to have a better Mother/Daughter relationship.”

“Then we will have that. How’s your mental health?”

“It’s better. Reid is a big help and I’m in therapy now.”

“Good. I love you Amanda.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Before moving back to her seat Katheryn got a good look at Reid and laughed.

“You been hanging around my nephews?”

“Yes, ma’am including Eddie.”

“Reid, you’re a good man thank you for taking care of my daughter. I trust you with her.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Cryer.”

Amanda, Reid, and Katheryn sat down beginning to catch each other up on everything that has been happening in each other’s lives. Amanda was happy she had her Mom back and Katheryn was happy she had her daughter back. 

AN: Been in my drafts. Finally clicked.. It sucks. But Angst. Fluff. Sucks. Sorry. Excuse any erros

#Haves and Have Nots Fic #Kayah writes a mess

[inkybunny]

HeyHey, If you still open. I really loved your headcannon about the Pregnancy-Announcement with Kirishima. It made so much fun to read and screaming how wholesome it is. So I would wonder if you would do something similar for Midoriya? Maybe also including surprising Inko at the same Time? I just love the Midoriya Family ♥

Okay so

You guys are together for a long time now

And you just want a kid so bad

You can imagine the little Midorya you love so much with onesies of his own dad

Geez so cute

You also know how dangerous could be for the number one hero to have a kid

 But you are up for it

You talked a lot about it and decided to start trying

You were having a little bit of a hard time but one day, you just woke up sooooo nauseous

 Immediatly went to the bathroom,you kept some tests for this type of situations

Positive

You were

SO HAPPY

YOU NEED TO TELL MIDORYA RIG-

Wait

no

What if

You remember seeing a compilation video about wifes doing surprises for their husbands, so why not try something like that too?

You came up with a great idea, You were doing a treasure hunt with him, the treasure was unknow, for him

Next weekend you guys had a dinner planned with Inko and All Might, so it was a double opportunite

You planned riddles and questions about your relationship and waited to him to get out that morning to buy everything you would need for the family dinner

You putted everything in place so quick you almost thought you had another quirk

You heart was beating so fast, you decided to film everything so you could show to your kids in the future

And to yourself, to remember how cute your husband is

He got home with all the food bags only to be greeated by a VERY smiling s/m

“I got a surprise for you! No questions just do the treasure hunt!”

He did asked questions, you didnt respond any of them

So, Izuku is not the type who forgets important dates, he have every important date marked somewhere

and it is EVERY important date

But he’s still a very insecure and distracted boy even after all those years

So he’s absolute panicking

WHAT IS THIS?? WHAT IS TODAY? GODDAMIT HE DIDNT GOT YOU ANY PRESENT, HE FORGOT ABOUT SOME IMPORTANT DATE HE’S SUCH A HORRIBLE HUSBAND OMG WHAT IF YOU LEFT HIM CAUSE HE’S SUCH A HORRIBLE HUSBAND? PLEASE NO HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH HE PROMISE HE’S NOT GOING TO DO THAT AGAIN

But he played it cool

No he didnt

 But lets pretend he did

It hurted you a bit seeing him so desperate but it was going to be worth it

It were 2 stages, the first on the kitchen where you were right now, and the other one on your bedroom

In the first stage he needed to respond a quizz about your relationship

Wich NOT helped him calm his nerves

Simple questions like ”Where did you met? Whats Your song? When are you aniversaries? Who confessed first? This type of things

Obviously, he didnt missed

I guess he never miss huh

He knows everything about you and about the time you spend together so this is a piece of cake even tho he was so scared he forgot stuff

He remember things about you even you didnt remember

Like your favorite spot to get icecream before that other store opened close to the park and became your absolute favorite

He just loves you so much and he wants to know every little thing about you

Doing the quizz he became a lot more relaxed, he just love every part of you and talking about all the times you had together makes him so happy

Also he kinda wanted to win now

You almost cry when you remember the day you guys confessed to one another

 “Okay, this one its the last one, now you can proceed to the next challenge

Are you going to tell me what is this all about now?

Not a chance, keep walking and nooo questions

Baby, please, I’m so curious!

No, you will know at the right moment!”

The challenge on the bedroom was putting the frase together, you provided the syllabes for the frase

He started noticing clues the syllables had, the first thing he put together was “You are”, after he noticed there was a ‘d’ alone, oh another one, baby are you sure you cut these correctly? There’s also two ‘a’s

….

‘dad’ he tought, he looked at you in complete silence

Quickly scanned the other syllables

‘You are going to be a dad’

He looked at you again, you could almost hear his heart racing

“You are going to be a dad ?Well, I’m not, I’m going to be a mom, you’re going to be a dadAre you serious?Please are you serious?Yes honey, I’m pregnant!”

So much tears

Your tears

His tears

My tears

So much tears

GOD so MUCH TEARS

He instantly hugged you, sloppy kisses all over your face while he was trying to say he loved you but was too much of a crying mess to actually say anything

Took care to not squeeze you too hard

But picked you up by the hip so he could kiss you belly

Sometimes you forget how strong he is

He is so ECSTATIC about itYou guys have SO much to think about

Names, the baby room, what school they’re going to be in, What will they want to be when they’re older

OMG

He HAS to tell his mom and All Might

OMG HE HAS TO TELL KACCHAN AND IIDA AND OCHAKO AND-

Oh, he’s mom and All might are probably getting here soon

BUT NO FEAR

YOU ARE HERE

You bought little baby shoes when you where thinking about his surprised

“Omg baby, lets tell them that way! God you are so perfect I love you SO MUCH”

So you stopped filming for a short brief

You guys put the baby shoe on a gift box and waited for them

Midorya didnt want to eat at home anymore, he wanted to spoil you as much as he could

So when Inko and All Might got there they were greeated with two very exited “Young ones” and a camera

Midorya didnt let them have time to protest and lead them to the couch and brought the gift box

So much confusion

What is this?

Just open the box? Okay

Baby shoes? I dont…

OH MY GOD

So much happyness in this room is almost hard to see

“OMG my babies are having a baby? Am I going to be a grandma?Congrats Young Midorya and Young Y/n! This is going to be a hard responsability but also a great blessing!”

The Midoryas are freaking out in a corner while you and All Might watch with happy smiles

OF COUSE you went out on the best place to celebrate

Izuku called your angencies to tell everything and warn you would not be going in patrol for some time

Cause of couse Izuku would NOT let you go on patrol while pregnat, he trust you, he knows you can handle it but he’s just so worry while you are using your quirk or moving fast something happends

You agreed cause you were also worried

Inko gave you SO MUCH prengant advice, and make it clear she’s going to be there to help you with ANYTHING and spoil her grandson so much

All Might is not as talkative like Inko or Izuku, he’s so happy for you two but deep inside he’s so worried something happends to you

This is the son of the number one hero after all

So many villans could try to kill you

Also who knows when the One for All on Izuku is going to start to get weak

He’s so worried about so much things and you can see that

“All Might?Oh, Yes Young Y/n?I’m going to be okay, I promise*sight* I guess I am a little bit worried, but I know you can handle yourselfI trust Izu as well, he would never let enything happen to meYes, in fact, you’re right young Y/n”

When you were getting back to your house Midorya said to you post the video you made

“Are you sure honey? Villans can see..But I want everyone to know so they can be happy with us! But if you are worried about it its probably best if we didn-Already posted I just wanted your permission”

People are ECSTATIC about this, the number one hero is having a son? SUCH GREAT NEWS

All your friends sended messages as well, Ochako was SO exited about it

Izuku created the habit of sleeping with his hands on your belly, he really wants so feel when the baby’s first kick come

Also he made a meter long list of names for your child He can’t wait to be able to hug them

___________________________________________

Sooooooooooooooo this was fun

I hope you liked anon

I hope there’s not too much grammar erros, I tried my best at editing

 ;-;

#bnha #bnha izuku #mha #mha midoriya #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #midorya x reader #deku x reader #bnha deku #mha deku #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha hc #bnha hcs #bnha headcanons #mha hc #mha hcs #mha headcanons #bnha midorya #bnha imagines #mha imagines #mha izuku #bnha fluff #mha fluff

[inquisitorradcliffe]

Awakening

Radcliffe walked the stacks of the great library, guided by the glowing mote of psychic energy he manifested before him. The little orb cast blue light that played off strange shadows around the cavernous space. Rows of shelves towered over him, rising up towards the vaulted ceiling overhead and extended off in all directions, far beyond what the eye could see. There was much knowledge here, gleaned from the minds of geniuses and savants, or pulled from the ruined consciousnesses of madmen. It was not the Archives, the place he had called home for decades. That had burned down, consumed by blood and fire stoked by the heat of corrupted jealousy. It had been a watershed moment in his life, and had instigated a number of changes that had now brought him to where he was today, both physically and emotionally. 

The Gregarian Edifice was a massive complex built into the white stone of the Domhole Cliffs, high above the crashing surf of the Ionian Sea. The Edifice had withstood storm and tempest for ages, defying the waves below that constantly rose up like claws to drag it down into their depths. The complex had stood for generations, and bore the name of the man who reputedly built it. Erros Gregarian had been one of the first Inquisitors to bring the local sub-sector in line with Imperial law. He had been a man large in both stature and personality, and records described him as someone as merciless to his foes as he was loyal to his friends. The one thing Radcliffe had always found curious about the man’s history was that there seemed to be no specific Ordo affiliation, as if Gregarian had been content to flit back and forth between them his his duties and whims saw fit.

Regardless, Gregarian had carved out a base of operations here for himself, well stocked and well protected, and home to much the same knowledge that Radcliffe himself had accumulated before the wedding. Over decades, as that knowledge passed from one set of hands to another, it had waxed and waned with the sensibilities of its caretaker. Now that caretaker was the Lord Inquisitor.

He paused to run his hand along the worn spine of a leather-bound tome. The ink along the spine was so old it had faded nearly out of existence. Radcliffe only knew what it said because he was used to tracing out the indentations of each individual letter. He was about to pluck it from its place on the shelf and open it when the soft swish of robes caught his attention, and something pressed against his mind with the soft pressure of familiarity.

“Erylla,” Radcliffe said. There were notes of surprise and pleasure in his voice in equal measure. He turned, smiling into the darkness. “It has been some time, old friend. Are you really going to do me the discourtesy of remaining in the shadows?”

There was a moment’s pause, then a figure slipped from the darkness. She was tall, as tall as the Inquisitor even without her high-crested helm, and she was slender in the most inhuman of ways. Her eyes were as blue as the seas that pounded the cliffs outside, and her pale face was framed by fiery red hair. Farseer Erylla Lythowyn smiled. The gesture was meant to be warm. She and Radcliffe went back decades. But some of the emotion was blunted by a concern that reflected in her eyes as well as the psychic aura that surrounded her.

“Gabriel,” she said. Her voice echoed twice, once between the shelving units and once in his mind. “It is good to see you.”

“It is,” Radcliffe agreed. He took a step towards the Farseer. “But I believe you and I are too accustomed to each other to believe you have come here merely for a social call. Did you come alone?”

“Saysa and Icthelial are outside,” Lythowyn replied, referring to the latest pair of warlocks that served as her proteges, emissaries, and bodyguards. “I did not think I would need them to speak with you.”

“Of course not.” Radcliffe inclined his head slightly. “I did not mean to insinuate you did.”

Lythowyn took a step closer. Radcliffe felt her mind buffet his again in that secret gesture of care and curiosity shared between two psykers. She was trying to probe as far as she could without being rude, trying to glean his state of being by reading what resided on the surface of his mind.

The inquisitor looked up.

“I feel as though I should be reading you,” he said. It was a playful jibe, and one that managed to draw a wry smile to Lythowyn’s lips. “I could feel your anxiety long before I could feel you.”

“But that is not the only thing you have felt, is it?” she asked.

Radcliffe cocked his head for a moment. Visions of nightmares rose up within his mind, memories of nights ill spent in the throes of restless sleep and sudden wakefulness. They were filled with distorted faces that howled unheard screams of agony, and a swirling miasma of otherworldly energy that whispered things to him in a language he could not understand, nor dared wish to. And always there was the third entity, cackling in the darkness about a phoenix before an unholy shriek sent him rising back to abrupt consciousness.

“No,” Radcliffe said. The word was heavy on his tongue. Premonition had never been a strong suit of his in the past, but as of late that had changed. Ever since the coming of the Cicatrix Maledictum, the Lord Inquisitor had suffered more and more warnings and omens. Most came in dreams when he was fast asleep. The more disturbing came to him in full wakefulness, hallucinations overlaid across his vision, the ghosts of a play being acted out for him and him alone. “But I get the sense I do not need to explain to you what I have seen.”

Lythowyn nodded slightly.

“Is that why you have come, then? To seek answers from a man you know has none?”

“I have come,” she said slowly. “To find comfort.”

Radcliffe blinked. That had not been the answer he had expected. While he considered Lythowyn a friend and close ally, she was still Aeldari, and her nature kept her emotions in check and cards close to her chest. She rarely came to him unless she truly needed something. That was likely due to her pride, Radcliffe thought. But this... just mere comfort was not like her at all.

“Comfort?” he asked, making sure his confusion was evident in the single word.

“A reaffirmation, Gabriel,” Lythowyn continued. “As you say, it has been some time and...” She paused, as if suddenly displeased with her choice of words. “There are things coming, Gabriel. Things worse than anything that has manifested thus far. We are both going to need friends in the coming times. I wanted to make sure I still had one in you.”

Lythowyn figeted slightly, as if embarrassed she found herself saying such a thing. Radcliffe had saved her people, and in truth her entire Craftworld, on countless occasions, and she had always strived to return the favor and keep the scales balanced, despite the inquisitor’s insistence that he was not keeping score. The fact she had come all this way simply to seek reassurance spoke volumes to Radcliffe. The Farseer was just as unsure, perhaps even less so, as to what was happening than he was.

“You will always have a friend in me, Erylla,” Radcliffe said. His tone was soft, but chiding, like a father entertaining a question from a child that could have been answered by a simple appeal to common sense.

Lythowyn drew close and took Radcliffe’s hand in her own. It always surprised him how warm she was. He expected her, with her pale flesh and thin frame, to be colder. But she never was. “I am pleased to hear that,” she said. “And grateful.”

Radcliffe looked at her hand, the light from his orb shining off the deep purple of her gloves. “Do you know what is coming?” he asked, bringing his gaze up to search her crystal blue one.

“All I know is the greatest daughter of Morai-Heg will meet the Master of Blades and blood will spill from the Dark City,” Lythowyn replied. “What comes of this, I cannot say. The skeins are too clouded.”

Radcliffe nodded, but his mind remained ill at ease. “Keep me apprised, then,” he said. “As usual.”

“As usual,” Lythowyn replied.

“I take it you cannot stay for a cup of tea? It has been some time, and I am sure Rebeckah would enjoy seeing you.”

Lythowyn smiled. “Your wife entertains my presence only because of what I mean to you, Gabriel. She does so out of respect for our history. And while I would love nothing more than to sit and chat beside the fire like we used to, there are more pressing matters to attend to.”

“There always are.”

“The work never ends, Gabriel. But I am glad that we remain friends. It is the one constant I have always been able to count on.” Lythowyn released the inquisitor’s hand and stepped back out of the pool of light. Darkness swallowed here almost a little too eagerly for Radcliffe’s liking.

“Don’t let it be so long before we next meet,” he said.

There came no reply, save for a small mental bump. Then it was gone, and the farseer along with it.

#drabble #Erylla Lythowyn #She demanded I write something involving her #It has been too long #The Librarium #psychic awakening

[btshogwartsfics]

Roses and Butterscotch

Summary: You and Taehyung had always been best friends, that was nothing new. Neither was the endless doubts and questions from your classmates, asking if you two were together. However, after a short conversation with Jimin and Namjoon, the feelings for him that you suddenly can’t control are definitely new... Right?

Pairing: Taehyung x Gryffindor!Reader

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: Okay, so I finally finished it!! I’ve been really busy this past week and I’ll be very busy this week as well with my exams -I swear I nEVER get a break- but here it is!! One reason it took me so long was because I’ve been working on this alongside my new collab (see post if you don’t know) and because I had planned for it to be around the same length as my Yoongi drabbles... as you can tell once I started actually writing it, things didn’t quite go that way. But I hope the anon who requested this enjoys it as well as anyone else who happens to read it!! I will start on the second request as soon as possible- probably tomorrow. But for now, I will rest. Please ignore any typos or erros, I’m tired but I will (hopefully) edit this and fix them tomorrow!! I’m sorry again that this took so long!

*Alternately titled: Five Times Everyone Thought Taehyung Was Your Boyfriend and One Time He Was*

[]{}[]

Something your parents tend to forget is that Hogwarts is a school. Granted it's a bit different from those in the muggle-world, but it's still a school all the same. Hogwarts is a place where educated adults teach adolescents in the hopes of making them great. 

Hogwarts itself is full of hormonal teens and preteens with a few professors here and there. And if you know anything, it's that one thing always follows teenagers; drama. Unfortunately for you, your best friends just so happen to be a rag-tag group of fifteen to seventeen-year-old boys. 

For years, you've wondered how exactly this came to be, but truthfully you don't have an answer. As much as you'd like one, it was just never necessary. Even if you want to throw each and every one of them into the black lake on occasion, you love those idiots to death. You'd never tell them but you wouldn't even trade them for a perfect score on your OWLs. 

However, most people can't seem to get it into their head that you really are just friends. Especially when it comes to your best friend, Taehyung. Admittedly, the two of you are rather close. You'd met him in Diagon Alley a week after receiving your first Hogwarts letter. You were barely eleven then and Taehyung had been all wild bangs and overgrown limbs he hadn't quite gotten used to yet. He was your first friend you'd made in the wizarding world and so there was a certain special type of bond between you. He may have been sorted into Ravenclaw and you Gryffindor, but something you had in common was your thirst for adventure. 

While Taehyung was witty and clever in the oddest (read best) of ways, you tended to be rather spontaneous and impulsive. From the second you'd stepped foot in the castle you formed some sort of dynamic duo. The two of you were constantly running off to places you're not supposed to be to do things you're not supposed to do. The times you spend with Taehyung doing whatever you so please are invariably your favorites. 

Still, with him being a member of the opposite sex, those around you always seem to take it the wrong way. You can hardly smile at the guy without being accused of secretly dating, let alone run off to pull all the pranks you've yet to complete. 

Take yesterday, for example… 

[]{}[]

“No, Tae, no.” You huffed as your best friend pouted sullenly, still refusing to use the newt spleen in your potion. “I’m telling you, it’s fine. Professor Slughorn wouldn’t give it to us to use if it was expired.”

Setting the ingredient to his left, out of your reach, he crosses his arms defiantly, peering down at you. “I think I know what I’m talking about, Y/N. It’s not hard to tell when something’s expired.”

“Tae, it looks perfectly fine to me.” You reason, chin up, meeting his stare head on.

Taehyung goes to poke you in the side, knowing full well it’s your tickle spot. You gasp, surprised, and try not to shriek. Really though, you should have known. Taehyung’s always been just a touchy friend.

The taller boy smiles triumphantly and shakes his head knowingly. “You’ve barely even glanced at it, so how would you know?”

You swat his hand away and point an accusatory finger at his chest. Your best friend’s grin simply broadens and you wish you weren’t trying to hide one yourself. “I don’t have to. I doubt our professor would allow us to use expired materials.”

This only seems to fuel more fire to Taehyung’s flame and he doesn’t back down. His dark brown irises are sparkling with a playful mirth and you’re sure that yours mirror them.

“Not unless he doesn’t know.” He smirks, proud of himself. He’s mocking you and you know it, it’s a game you two are always playing. But, of course, he knows you love playing it.

Scoffing, your hands go to your hips. You can’t fight the smile now, but at this point, you don’t really care. “Tae, how on earth would Professor Slughorn not know the quality of his ingredients?”

The boy shrugs lazily, his smile just as lazy. “I don’t know, maybe he just didn’t get around to it when taking inventory, that’s not my problem. I still say that the spleen is expired, though. I mean, have you seen it-”

“Tae, it looks just like the rest of them, I-”

“No it doesn’t and if you looked at it, you would see that-”

“Kim Taehyung, I swear to God I-”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s going on over here?” Slughorn booms as he crosses the room to stand in front of your little desk. His tired eyes dance across your faces, looking from you to Taehyung. “Is this some sort of lovers’ quarrel? Should I not have allowed you two to be partners?”

You spluttered, your mouth falling open. From your peripheral vision, you could see Taehyung do the same. For a moment Slughorn just stared at you both, a confused expression on his face. Immediately a string of protests leave your lips and Taehyung is quick to follow.

Slughorn just laughs at the two of you, waving off your protests. Your mouths fall closed and he arches an eyebrow. “I’m kidding. So, what was the real reason you two were over here bickering like an old married couple?”

“What? We don’t bicker like an old married couple!” You protest, trying hard not to stomp your feet like a child. Now you’re the one pouting, not completely sure why the assumption bothers you so much.

“Professor, Y/N and I are not together.” The words leave his mouth in a rush as if he couldn’t get them out soon enough. “There is absolutely no way we’re a couple.”

You take a second to properly glare at your friend, to which he shrugs and looks back to your professor.

You lick your lips and try not to sound condescending. “He's right professor, we’re just friends.”

“Either or, the two of you shouldn't have been arguing anyway.” Slughorn sighs, going to rub at his temple. “So, what was the problem?”

“Professor,” Taehyung starts, plastering on a brilliant smile that displays perfectly his set of pearly white teeth. “can you please tell Y/N that this jar of newt spleen is expired. I don't want to die because my partner can't tell the difference.”

Taehyung slides the jar over to him carefully for emphasis, crossing his arms again matter-of-factly. You huff, turning on your heels to set the facts straight. No way was Taehyung right about this, how would he even know the difference, anyway?

“Professor Slughorn, can you please tell Taehyung that the jar is perfectly fine as you’d never allow us to use materials that have gone bad in such an… explosive class.”

Slughorn goes to examine the jar, turning it around in his hands. He brings it up close to his face, inspecting it meticulously. After a minute or so, he walks over and sets the jar on a shelf near his desk.

You frown, confused, unsure as to why he would go all the way to put it there. Why hadn't he just given it back to you? But then you hear Taehyung snicker from beside you and you furrow your brows.

When Slughorn comes back around to your table, you jump to question him about the jar. “Uh, professor, is there something wrong?”

“Actually, I’m afraid there is.” Without pretense, he goes over to the ingredient shelf and grabs another jar, identical to the one he’d just discarded. He sets in onto your table softly.

“Here is a new jar of newt spleen. It appears, Miss Y/L/N, that Mister Kim was right. That jar was expired and I am sorry for the inconvenience. If it weren’t for Mister Kim’s extensive knowledge of this subject, a lot of things could have gone wrong.” You watch in minor disbelief as Slughorn regards Taehyung carefully, his mouth lifting slightly, proudly, at the end. “Ten points to Ravenclaw.”

With that, your professor walks away, sitting back down at his desk in silence. As you blink repeatedly, you tell yourself that this didn’t happen. However, Taehyung doesn’t allow you this as he instantly peers down at you with a smug grin painting his lips. You reluctantly swallow your pride and meet his eyes.

The chocolatey brown things beam at you from above, easing the sting of being wrong just a bit. You’re not truly angry, it was just a little hit to your pride. Besides, how could you be when he looks at you like that? His grin is boxy and his brown bangs are falling flat against his forehead in the messiest of ways, yet all of it’s endearing.

“I don’t wanna say I told you so, but-”

“Fine, fine, I admit; I was wrong.” You groan, but a smile tugs at your face.

He reaches a hand out to ruffle your hair and you glare at how he messes it up. Thankfully though, he does tug a few strands behind your ear to get it out of your face. You just stand there, grinning at each other like the oddballs you are for a few more seconds until you go back to brewing your potion.

To no one’s surprise, you two manage to brew the potion perfectly, though you did almost have to restart when Taehyung tripped and dropped a few of the spleens. Still, nobody had to know…

Just as you and Taehyung were packing your things up for your next classes, Slughorn made his way over to your table again. His face looked slightly apologetic and you wondered what he had to say.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mister Kim, I hope you won’t take my earlier comment so seriously,” Slughorn says, his eyes and tired face showing his sincerity. “I had meant for it to be a compliment.”

You and Taehyung shake your heads simultaneously, both ushering out a series of rebuttals.

“It’s okay, Professor,” Taehyung assures the older man gently. Taehyung’s always liked Slughorn and you have too. He may be a bit absent-minded at times, but he’s kind. “It’s a common mistake actually, so no harm done.”

Taehyung smiles and Slughorn frowns. “People mistake you two for being married?”

Despite your efforts, a laugh bubbles from your throat, eliciting smiles from the two males beside you. “Not quite. They do mistake us for being a couple, though.”

“Ah, I see.” Slughorn nods in understanding and offers you a wave. “I can see why. You two look rather nice together. Well, you better be off, don’t want to be late for your next classes.”

He turns and leaves you and Taehyung, open-mouthed and wide-eyed at your desk, your cauldron still bubbling.

[]{}[]

It was only a matter of time before this happened again; two months to be exact… 

[]{}[]

This was not how you pictured your Quidditch game going…

You ransacked your bag for the millionth time, scanning over the already seen (and destroyed) set of clothes. You were dressed from head to toe in your Quidditch robes, the waterproof ones because of course, it was raining today. In your haze though, you’re honestly surprised you remembered you had them.

Your mind ran rampant, thoughts of yesterday and the day before all the way back to three weeks ago flood your head. It was slowly driving you insane; wondering where the hell it could be and how in the world you had misplaced it? Throwing aside your other robes and dress tie you’d abandoned after classes finished, you tried again to look through your belongings, hoping against hope you just somehow missed it. For the seventy-fifth time…

“Y/N? What are you doing?” A voice from the hall sounds, male but soft and light, distinct. Jimin. “The match is starting soon, did you lose something?”

Pushing out a reply, you stumble over to see him, wondering if maybe he could help you.

“Jimin, please tell me you’ve seen my pins.” You plead with him as you near, praying to every God you know that he has. The pins, one gold and one a lovely bronze, are the most sentimental and prized gifts you’ve ever received. You had gotten one from your grandmother before she passed away and the other, the bronze one, was a gift exchange with Taehyung and they’re both your lucky charms. You’ve worn them every game since you received them and you’d be damned if you stop now.

Jimin, knowing first hand how much those mean to you, widened his eyes, shock taking over his soft features. “No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I haven’t seen them anywhere.”

You curse, running a hand through your hair worriedly. Taking a deep breath, you can feel yourself becoming more restless by the second. Minute by minute your thoughts are slowly fading into hysteria. You’ve never gone a single game without them and now you have no idea what you’re supposed to do.

In fact, your head was in such disarray that you didn’t even notice when Jimin left. You didn’t see when he came back, accompanied by a taller figure. It was only when a deep voice rang out in your head, seeming to echo off the walls, did you finally stop your erratic breathing.

“Y/N?” His low timbre called out, already coming to stand in front of you. You look up at Taehyung immediately and his eyes soften as he sees the worry in yours. He lifts his arms up to hold you steadily in place. “Are you okay?”

Staring at him at this moment, concern flashing down at you from inside his chocolate orbs, you are only able to shake your head silently. Taehyung licks his lips, a nervous habit, and takes you into his arms. Instantly you go to bury your head into the crook of his neck where it meets his shoulder. Having shared many hugs over the years you’ve known each other, you’re not surprised when your body folds and fits perfectly against his.

“I can’t find them, Tae.” You whimper, your voice muffled by his heavy raincoat. Your arms, which are wound around his waist, tighten as you speak. “The pins are gone, Tae. They’re just gone.”

Taehyung just nods calmly and pulls away from your embrace to cup your cheeks with his large palms. When you drag your gaze to meet his, he smiles gently, a genuine fondness seeping through. Without a word, Taehyung reaches into his coat and removes his own pin. Unlike yours, which is bronze and in the shape of a rose, his is silver and looks more like a star.

You frown, not quite understanding until he carefully pries open your palm and presses the pin into it. By now Jimin has left, sparing you some privacy and you stare, dazed, at the pin he had just given you.

Your friend rolls his eyes at your confused state, but not without offering you a kind smile. “Take it, Y/N.” He probes sweetly, urging you to wear it. “At least until you find yours.”

You look down at the pin and then back to Taehyung. He’s still grinning, completely content with just handing you something he’s kept close to him for almost five years now.

You shake your head, handing the pin back to him. “Tae, I can’t. It’s yours, you should keep it.”

He scoffs, going to push it back into your hands, but then decides against it. Instead, he reaches out to pin it on the front of your robes. “Nonsense.” He refutes, jutting his lower lip in a faux pout. “You’re the one who gave it to me in the first place, so it’s only fair.”

You want to refuse again. You want to remove it from your robes and insist he take it back. This pin means as much to Taehyung as yours do to you. He’s never allowed anyone to even touch it before. Many of his friends and housemates have admired it and asked to hold it or look at it more closely, but Taehyung refuses every time. He says that they’d ruin it or lose it and doesn’t even give them the chance. To think that now he’s allowing you to wear it, on the Quidditch pitch no less, is pretty shocking to you.

But definitely very sweet.

The silver pin shines proudly on your chest, reflecting nicely off the sunlight streaming in through the flap of the Quidditch tent. It looks nicer on Taehyung, but you suppose it’s not too bad. Thinking you should probably say something, you look up to find that your friend is shining brighter than the pin. That’s not too surprising, though, he always had a knack for that.

Clearing your throat, you look back up at the Ravenclaw, but your words fall short. You wrack your brain for the right thing to say, but nothing comes to mind. Taehyung’s looking at you expectantly now, and so you say all that you can.

“Thank you.”

He seems to sense the sincerity behind those two words -of course, he would- because he just nods, going in for another quick hug. It’s as you release each other that Jimin peeps back into the tent.

“Hey, uh, the match is starting, Y/N.” He mutters, unsure if everything has been resolved yet. “You ready to go?”

Taehyung grins and nods and you mimic the motion. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Jimin.”

Taehyung wishes you both luck and quickly leaves the tent and you join the rest of your team out on the pitch. They all begin to clap as you and Jimin near and a swell of pride blossoms in your chest. Instantly your mood is lifted, though in large part to Taehyung, seeing them so supportive of you definitely helps.

You and Jimin fit yourselves into the little huddle, bending down to rest your hands on your knees. But being you, of course, your luck wouldn’t be that great…

“...so then we come from behind Hufflepuff and-”

“-is that Taehyung’s pin?”

You look down to where your teammate, Jungyeon, was staring directly at the silver pin strapped to your chest. The rest of your housemates follow suit, zeroing in on the object in question. A chorus of gasps and whispers sound around your team circle, making you sigh. You were supposed to be getting ready for a Quidditch match, not gossiping about you and Taehyung.

“Oh my God, it is!” Lisa remarks, earning a nod from Jungyeon.

“How did you get that?”

“Did he give that to you? Really?”

“Wow, he never lets anybody touch that thing!”

“I knew it! You guys are dating, aren’t you!”

That particular comment makes you stop and you groan, rubbing at your temples. Of course, their immediate thought would be that you’re dating your best friend. You should have known, really, it happens all the time.

“No, we’re not dating, but that isn’t even important right now!” You conclude, your voice firm. “Right now we need to be getting ready for this match. We can talk about anything you guys want after, but not now.”

You didn’t mean it, of course, the last thing you’d want to do is repeat over and over that you and Taehyung are not dating. You do it regularly anyway, so you’d rather not do it if you didn’t have to. You only said that to satisfy them enough to get them to focus.

That seems to do the trick because they all nod before allowing Jimin to continue explaining their plays. Finally, after what feels like forever, you get on your brooms and lift off into the air. With Taehyung’s pin, you feel a little more confident than you thought you would, and you hope it helps you win this match.

It does. After your seeker, Chanyeol, catches the snitch, Gryffindor wins by fifty points. Hoseok took the defeat well, even going as far as to give you a congratulatory hug, but that was to be expected. That boy’s heart is softer than cotton and you’re glad that he’s your friend.

It’s not until you see Taehyung in the crowd, adorned head to toe in blue, that you feel a rush of joy and appreciation. You excuse yourself from your teammates and Hoseok, beelining straight for the taller boy.

He sees you approaching and he beams, big and wide. Suddenly you can’t get there fast enough and your stride breaks out into a run. You had left your broom in the capable hands of Jimin, so you don’t have to worry about dropping it in the slushy mud when you round on Taehyung, reaching over the stand to wrap your arms around his neck.

Laughter slips off from your lips easily and you can hear Taehyung chuckle, himself. It rings in your ears and reverberates inside your head, the honeyed melody a tune you’ll never forget. As you continue to hug him, you can hear the hardly masked whispers of people trying to poke themselves into your love life. Whispers of rumors and dates and even a few “i-told-you-so”’s but you could care less.

Taehyung was the best best friend in the world. You just wanted to make sure he knew that.

[]{}[]

You rested your head on your hand, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from falling asleep. McGonagall sits at her desk, probably trying to finish her mountain of paperwork, while the class seems to be under a silencing charm. No one says a word, the only sound that can be heard is the scratching of quills against parchment.

You stare at your blank parchment resentfully, not at all feeling up to finishing the assignment the class had been given. That is until it was no longer blank.

whatcha doing??

You rolled your eyes, looking back over your shoulder to Taehyung who was simply grinning at you expectantly.

well i'm trying to do my work

You stop, choosing your next words carefully.

and i would appreciate it if you didn’t use our journal to bother me

You can practically feel the wave of judgment coming from Taehyung behind you. You don’t need to look to see that he is scoffing.

The item that the two of you had dubbed ‘Your Journal’ was two separate journals which you had enchanted to copy any written words down directly into the other. You kept it on you at all times seeing as cell phones were only allowed after class hours and on the weekends. Of course, that doesn’t keep some from trying to sneak them in every so often but you wouldn’t risk McGonagall’s wrath.

liar, he writes, you and i both know that you were just staring out the window you're not doing anything

not true, i was daydreaming

pfft, either way you weren't doing your work. period.

okay so maybe i wasn't but what was so important that you had to interrupt said daydreaming??

oh yeah, guess what i heard jin hyung say while he tried flirting with elise today??

oh dear god pls tell me he didn't use one of those stupid puns

can't say that Y/N

what did he say this time??

you think you’re ready??

yes i'm pretty sure

if you were a dementor i’d become a criminal just to get your kiss

…he didn't

oh but he did

that's pathetic he needs to stop!! i'm embarrassed

i don't know about that i thought it was pretty funny

...yeah okay i guess you're right

…hey Y/N guess what??

what??

your smile is like expelliarmus, simple but disarming

You look up to make sure McGonagall isn’t paying any attention to you before you turn to glare at Taehyung. However, it becomes clear to you that doing so is moot when all you see in return is his blindingly square smile. He looks almost proud of himself, his grin soon turning into a smirk and something he knows you can’t refuse; a challenge. You narrow your eyes, he goes back to the journal.

bet you can't beat that

really?? you're seriously challenging me right now??

yes

you think i won't do it??

nope cause you're a coward

You bristle to yourself, trying hard to reign in your pride. Taehyung knows you wouldn’t be able to resist if he made it personal. He knew attacking your pride would set you off, but you refuse to let him win…

you can have the portkey to my heart

Dammit.

Taehyung cleared his throat behind you, more than likely covering for those giggles he has when he gets his way. You don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s looking very smug right now.

did you make me your horcrux? because my heart stopped when I met you

are you a snitch? cause you're the finest catch here

did you survive avada kedavra? cause you're drop dead gorgeous

do you play quidditch? cause you're definitely a keeper

i don't need the mirror of erised to know that you're everything i desire

did you use relashio? cause there’s sparks between us

It’s hard to hold back your laughter. The sheer and utter stupidity of your contest dawns on you like bricks, but what weighs even heavier on your mind is the fact you don't even care. Taehyung distracted you from your boring classwork and really, you were thankful for that. You needed it.

You peek a glance over to your best friend, finding that his body is wracked with barely contained giggles and laughter. If you could see yourself, you were sure you mirrored him.

“Mister Kim, Miss Y/L/N, mind sharing what exactly is so funny with the rest of the class?”

The loud, familiar voice of your Head of House boomed from her new position at the front of the room. Internally, you facepalm, knowing better than to be out right giggling about anything in class. You look up slowly, McGonagall’s piercing stare looking back at you, waiting to be answered. Sparing at glance back over at Taehyung, you see that he’s just as caught off guard.

The both of you shake your heads, letting out a simultaneous, “No, Professor,”

“Well, I don’t really think you have a choice,” She insists, gesturing to her side. “Come up here, please, and bring those journals with you.”

The two of you shuffle over to the front of the class, your heads down and hanging with shame. When you reach your professor, she holds her hand out for one of the journals. Being closest, you place yours in her palm and she adjusts her spectacles so read it.

She clears her throat, a single eyebrow arching up. “So, Miss Y/L/N, Mister Kim has the, as you so eloquently put it, portkey to your heart?” You cringe, already hearing the whispers start to spread as your classmates gossip amongst themselves, but McGonagall does not stop there. “And Mister Kim, not needing to have the Mirror of Erised to know that Miss Y/L/N is everything you desire is quite poetic...”

By now, almost every student is beaming with satisfaction, having heard all of this first-hand. You have no doubts that rumors -are they really rumors if they’re true- of this whole debacle will have spread to every house by lunch. Hell, rumors about you and Taehyung have been spread for much less than this. You will never be able to live this down.

McGonagall takes ten points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw and then gives you both detention after school today. However, one measly detention and a few house points aren’t what you’re worried about. If it was you’d have given up adventure a long time ago. You’re more concerned with the new rumors about you and your best friend.

Though, if you’re being entirely honest, what concerns you the most is why they don’t seem to bother you as much as they did before, especially when he smiles at you like that. 

[]{}[]

When you woke up this morning, you expected to go to Hogsmeade, have a great time with your friends and roommate, Yeri, and then cram your last few pieces of unfinished homework in at midnight before Monday.

You certainly weren’t expecting to land yourself in the Hospital Wing.

Things just hadn’t gone to plan. You and Hoseok were just supposed to trudge ahead to grab a table at The Three Broomsticks while everyone else remained behind to finish their shopping. You weren’t supposed to run into the infamous Hogwarts pureblood supremacist, Declan Coil. You hadn’t meant to get into an argument with him, and really, you hadn’t meant to hit him with Expulso, but you also hadn’t expected to be targeted with two stunning spells by his friends nearby.

All in all, it really wasn’t supposed to go that way. Hoseok disarmed the remainder of his friends and then fled to get your professors once the rest of your friends returned. You definitely hadn’t planned on getting an earful from McGonagall any time soon, either.

“Just what were you thinking? Engaging in a duel in the middle of Hogsmeade,” Your professor reprimanded her hands on her hips. “You know that doing so is strictly forbidden! You’re very lucky, Miss Y/L/N, that he only suffered minor injuries or else your impending punishment would be much more severe.”

Your short temper was bubbling, rising with every muttered word of hers. You knew it would be best for you to stay silent, to take the words you knew you deserved, but you just couldn’t sit there and allow yourself to be belittled.

“I’m sorry, professor, truly, I am, but I couldn’t just stand there and let him get away with the things he was saying,” You interrupted with a start, shocking even Madam Pomfrey who had been adjusting your pillows. “Maybe I shouldn’t have attacked him, and for that, I apologize, but I refuse to let him mock and poke fun at people who have just as much right to be here as he does.”

It’s silent, neither of the grown women next to you saying a single word. Madam Pomfrey dismisses herself to tend to Declan himself, while McGonagall stares at you pensively, her worry lines prominent. You wait a moment, your mind running rampant before she speaks.

“Detention for two weeks and five points from Gryffindor,” She says with finalty, her eyes never leaving you.

However, you perk your head up, a small smile tugging at your lips. She notices this and offers one of her own. ‘While I still do not, under any circumstance, your actions from today, I can see that your heart was in the right place.” The older Gryffindor points a slender finger in your direction, her expression somehow serious and teasing. “Next time just make sure your wand is also in the right place, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Yes, professor,” You nod, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off your chest.

McGonagall makes her leave and not even seconds later all of your friends are bombarding you with questions. You smile as Hoseok apologizes for not acting sooner, while Jin commends you on your gusto, and Yeri promising to bring you your favorite blanket to sleep with over the course of the next week.

In the midst of it all, you see Taehyung in the back, grinning at you with that mischievous glint in his beautiful brown eyes. He looks proud and accepting and you smile back at him with earnest, your thoughts racing a mile a minute as they wonder; why is your heart beating just as fast?

///

The Hospital Wing is quietly in the late afternoon, the warm hues of sunlight filtering in through the glass windows. Aside from you, every resident is asleep, napping in hopes to rid themselves of their boredom. Being in a large white room for hours on end tends to drive a person insane. Thankfully, you have your friends.

As of now, you have company in the form of Taehyung, who himself lies asleep against the end of your cot. His Care of Magical Creatures textbook is left open, the rarely assigned homework forgotten in the pages. His brown bangs fall just above his eyes, falling flat against his forehead as he sleeps. Every so often his long eyelashes flutter, trembling against his cheekbone.

You smile, thankful that he had come at all, even if he fell asleep while trying to finish his homework. He had left the Hospital Wing later last night than usual, having raved on about Transfiguration class longer than he’d intended. Therefore, he hadn’t been able to finish it, so he spread it out on your cot the second walked in today, claiming that he would not tolerate any distractions until it was complete.

It’s Friday now, two days until you’re due to finally leave the monochromatic wing. If it wasn’t for Taehyung visiting you every day while you were here, you’re sure your stay would have been absolutely unbearable. Of course, the rest of your friends had come to see you as often as often as they could, but Taehyung had made it a point to come every day.

“You’re staring,” A voice says to your right.

You whip around to see Jimin and Namjoon making your way over to you and Taehyung, the latter struggling to carry four books at a time while the former wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk. You roll your eyes at your fellow lion, but ultimately decide to hold your finger up to your lips in the universal hush gesture, not wanting them to wake Taehyung.

The two boys peek to see the sleeping beauty and silently concede, tiptoeing the rest of their walk over. They pull up stools to sit around you, being careful not to disturb the Ravenclaw boy. They say nothing and you’re about to return to your own Potions homework when Jimin pipes up.

“You’re drooling, Y/N,” He jests, grinning when you gift him a sneer.

“Am not, shut up,”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Jimin laughs lightly, still trying to keep his voice down. “It’s not like it was much of a secret that you love him. He’s probably the only person who doesn’t know.”

He was only whispering, but you heard it as loud as if he’d screamed it. “Wh-what? No, I don’t!” You argue, the protest sounding weak and confused even to your own ears. “Th-that’s crazy.”

Jimin’s brow arches and he opens his mouth to retort, but it’s not him who answers. “No, it’s not,” Namjoon declares quietly so as not to wake up his friend.

You blanch for a second, surprised that Namjoon would say such a thing, especially considering he usually likes to stay out of these sort of things. “What do you mean? Yes, it is,”

Namjoon puts his book down and pushes his glasses back up his nose. “No, Y/N, it’s not,” He pushes, his tone anything but kidding. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about Taehyung as more than a friend, we all see the way you look at him.”

“And how is that?”

“The same way he looks at you.”

Your mouth falls closed, words seeming to fail you. You try to snark back, but there’s nothing you can say. As much as you hate to admit it, even to yourself, he’s right. You don’t deny as many rumors as you do without wondering every so often what it would be like if they were true. You also hate that, suddenly, the thought doesn’t seem so bad.

You avert your gaze and Namjoon and Jimin grin victoriously. “So I assume I’m right?” Namjoon gloats good-naturedly.

“No,” You lie, but you all know that it’s entirely unconvincing. You hold tight onto your small shred of dignity, even if you know it’s a losing battle and one that you wouldn’t mind losing.

“Are you sure?” Jimin presses all too knowingly.

No.

They nod as if understanding and each goes back to their own activities. Namjoon opens his book back up and Jimin turns his attention to his Defense homework. They leave you alone with your thoughts and you sneak a glance at Taehyung’s still sleeping form. Your heart flutters and your mind reels.

Were you really in love with Taehyung?

[]{}[]

Your laugh shook your entire core and you collapse into Taehyung’s body as you open the door to The Three Broomsticks.

The warmth immediately envelops you and you take in a deep breath of the familiar scent. The Three Broomsticks has always been something of a safe haven, at least in spirit. So much drama happens here that you and Taehyung could do anything and still not be anyone’s top priority.

You and Taehyung grabbed one of the only tables left available, which just so happened to be directly in the middle of the establishment, right where you wanted to be.

You two made sure to say hello to any and all staff and students you came across. You played nice with anyone who tried to make conversation and ordered butterbeer, but most importantly, you made sure you were seen.

“...no way,” You shook your head, refusing to believe what he was saying.

Taehyung nodded a smile on his face which contradicts his ‘serious’ claim. “I’m telling you, Flitwick was so mad. He even took fifteen points from Slytherin.”

You stuck your nose up with a laugh. “Serves him right,” You play. “I bet his housemates weren’t happy about that. I know Yoongi and Jungkook certainly wouldn’t be.”

Taehyung grins. “They weren’t.”

The two of you just sit there for a moment, smiling at each other like morons. You bow your head, your cheeks becoming hot. Ever since that incident in the Hospital Wing with Namjoon and Jimin last month, you’ve found yourself blushing a lot more around Taehyung than you ever have before. The words that they said resonate in your head like light bouncing off a mirror and you can’t seem to get rid of them.

Out of nowhere, Taehyung reaches his hand out and gently tucks some hair back behind your air. His hand lingers there for a moment and your eyes seem unable to stray from his.

It’s at this moment Jungkook and Jimin nonchalantly breeze through the door, their eyes immediately finding yours and they make their way over. They don’t spare anyone a look as they pull up two more chairs to sit around you. Jungkook levels you with an easy stare.

“It’s done,” He grins, to which all three of your faces proceed to match. “We did it.”

“You did?” Taehyung asks, excited. “It’s all done?”

Jimin nods proudly. “Professor Bang didn’t even know it was coming.”

The four of you share a look and giggle to yourselves. It’s then that chaos comes. The door bursts open and your Defense professor storms through it, looking for two specific faces. His gaze sweeps the room until it lands on you and Taehyung. He stomps his way over to your table which now occupies four, but he doesn’t pay Jimin and Jungkook any mind.

Instead, he stops in front of you two, nearly slamming his fist down on the table. “How did you do it?” He seethes, almost getting spit in your face.

You make a show of wiping it off before giving him your best confused expression. “What?”

“You know what I mean, Miss Y/L/N,” He replies, his frustration evident. He points to Taehyung, who offers him a similar distressed look. “So do you, Mister Kim!”

By now people had begun to watch things unfold, wondering what on earth their professor could be babbling on about, and why it was so important to come all the way out to Hogwarts to confront you about it.

“Professor,” Taehyung licks his lips, feigning hesitance and uncertainty. “We have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Kim!” He shouts, enraged, but this only gains giggles from the four of you. “The pixies! How did you get them in my office?”

You tilt your head, the picture of confusion. “What do you mean, professor? There are pixies in your office?”

“Yes there are and you and Mister Kim put them there, don’t even try to deny it! It has your signature pranks written all over it!”

“Professor, I-”

“Professor Bang,” An older Hufflepuff taps his shoulder, grimacing when he turns around startlingly close to her face.

“What?” He snaps, not liking having been interrupted.

“Y/N and Taehyung didn’t do it,” She stresses kindly, looking at you two for a moment before looking back. “They were here in Hogsmeade the whole time on their date.”

“Our what?” You and Taehyung say together, unintended. You spare a glance at each other, but seeing as this isn’t the first time this has happened and most definitely not the last, you shrug it off and look back to the Hufflepuff.

“What?” Bang questions, not convinced. “They were here?”

The Hufflepuff nods. “Yes, they’ve been right here, professor, for hours.”

“Then who could have released the pixies into my office?” The Hufflepuff shrugs but goes back to her seat. Bang looks around but settles his glare onto Jimin and Jungkook. “Was it you two?”

The boys shake their heads, looking offended. “We just got out of the detention you gave us, professor. Even if we wanted to we wouldn’t have the time.” Jungkook, the words rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

With an angered frown, he turns on his heel and leaves the pub, buying Jungkook’s excuse without a second thought. You all grin to yourselves, triumphant.

“Thank God that worked,” Jimin sighed once he was gone, but his smirk never left him. “I would’ve never done you two another favor ever again if he caught us.” You wave him off, ignoring his dramatics.

“Pay up,” Jungkook orders, never one to beat around the bush. “I did my part, those pixies are fucking brutal.”

You sigh, but you and Taehyung proceed to give Jungkook and Jimin their promised reward. However, as you go to hand Jungkook his galleons, Taehyung stops you, giving him a large bag of candy from Honeydukes. You frown and Jungkook takes this as a gesture to explain.

“I kinda, maybe, sorta got banned from Honeydukes for the rest of the year,��� He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. “So instead of the money, I asked for some candy.”

“How did you- nevermind. I don’t want to know,” You say, knowing by now that it’s best to just nod along. “Just keep it away from me.”

“You don’t like sweets?” Jimin inquires with a gasp as if you’d said something horrid or gruesome.

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, I just prefer the muggle sweets. They’re much less…” You scrunch your nose. “...lively.”

Jungkook scoffs in disgust. “That’s boring, I bet they taste so bland.”

“They do not!” You deny, flicking his forehead and earning a glare from the Slytherin boy. “They taste just fine.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook pesters, knowing that it’ll just rile you up.

“...it’s-”

“Butterscotch.” Taehyung answers for you, pointing a finger to your two empty glasses. “That’s why she likes butterbeer so much. Haven’t you noticed that she drinks it all the time?”

Jungkook and Jimin are quiet as they look from you, Taehyung, to the glasses on your table. They shake their heads, and Taehyung rolls his eyes, as if disappointed, but continues to mess around with them anyway.

You find yourself trying with all your might to stop your fickle heart from soaring. It wasn’t a surprise that Taehyung knew your favorite candy, hell you’re pretty sure you’d told him exactly that before. Taehyung’s perceptive and never forgets little details, it’s one of the reasons he’s able to stay on top of all his classes despite falling asleep in half of them. However the fact that he remembered your favorite candy and that you preferred muggle sweets is causing your heart to skip a beat.

You realize that you’ve zoned out and you tune back in just in time to hear Jungkook mutter about how butterscotch is stupid and wizarding candy is still ‘funner’. You waste no time in giving his forehead another flick. 

[]{}[]

It was Valentine’s Day.

All around Hogwarts there were high spirits. There were bouquets of flowers and boxes filled with chocolate. Everywhere you looked spirits were high and smiles were bright. You couldn’t even turn a corner without witnessing some confession or another. The hope and high expectations were practically in the air around you and it was almost sickeningly sweet.

And you hate it.

Usually, you’re not one to hate Valentine’s Day at all. Usually, you and Taehyung, along with anyone else who decides to tag along, take this opportunity to play pranks. While all the professors are distracted by the lovesick students (and the students with each other), it’s the prime time to pull ‘practical jokes’ without being detected. Unfortunately for you, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen.

You hadn’t seen him at breakfast today, nor did you see him in the halls. You asked Namjoon if he was still in his dorm or his common room, but he was strangely tight-lipped. According to others, no one else had seen him yet today either, it was as if he had disappeared. He wasn’t on the train to Hogsmeade or Hogsmeade at all. He hadn’t said a single word to you since yesterday and to say you were angry was an understatement.

The day has gone by faster than you remember. You had just eaten dinner with Jungkook and Yoongi, seeing as everyone else had a date- or had yet to be heard from, and now you’re simply sitting alone in the owlery, sending off your latest letter to your parents.

Even if you and Taehyung were just friends, something you've been doubting these past few months, the two of you always made sure you never spent a time like Valentine's Day alone. He's never gone silent on you before, not once. Even on the very few occasions you two had been on the outs, he always made sure to talk to about the problem. Taehyung was never one for the silent treatment, something you'd been thankful for. But for the first time since you met him, he's nowhere to be found and you can't help but wonder if there was something you did to cause this.

You're aware that there are other people in his life and other things that could have set him off, but immediately your mind wanders to the worst case scenario. You wonder if something you'd done recently had made him angry or upset, but nothing unusual came up. The only thing that was different from normal was that he’d been a bit fidgety lately. Taehyung was just naturally restless though, so you hadn't paid it any mind. Now you wonder if you should've.

Currently, your owl, Casper, coos at you, his snowy feathers ruffling. You swear it’s almost as if he smiles at you and if nothing else, you take comfort from that. It makes you sad to send him off now, knowing that he was probably the best company you’ve had all day.

It’s then, as you wave goodbye to Casper, that you hear footsteps. They sound rushed and frequent as if whoever it is were running your way. You listen until they get closer and closer until they’re right outside the owlery. Your brows furrow, but you press yourself against the wall, waiting to see who would be joining you.

The footsteps stop for a moment and you almost think that they left, but then a tall figure steps through the archway; a familiar figure.

“Tae?” You ask, to which your friend turns around, eyes wide and startled.

He laughs nervously. “Oh, hi Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles awkwardly and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Your temper snaps.

“Where have you been?” You shout, being unable to hold your tongue. Taehyung flinches, but he doesn’t seem very surprised. “I’ve been looking for and trying to get a hold of you all day! We always spend Valentine’s together, but Tae you literally just vanished! What the hell happened?”

Maybe you were overreacting, maybe you were taking it a bit too far. In all reality, there’s probably a very reasonable explanation for it all and even if there isn’t, what does it matter to you? It’s not like you’re his girlfriend…

But maybe you want to be.

Taehyung nods, more to himself than you, and takes a deep breath. Your normally high curiosity is just climbing the more you fum, your anger and frustration driving it. Your chest rises and falls as he seems to pick and choose his words carefully, impatiently awaiting whatever excuse he has for ditching you out of nowhere for the first time in five years.

Without any pretense, he lifts his hands up into your line of sight and your breath catches in your throat.

You don’t know how you hadn’t seen it before, maybe you were going blind, but it’s unmistakable now. There, clasped tightly in his shaking hands, is a beautiful set of red roses and a golden covered box.

You just stare at them, dumbfounded, as Taehyung begins to sweat in his spot. After a minute or so without any movement, he clears his throat, stealing your attention back to his handsome face.

His lips lift upward uncomfortably, anxiously, and he refrains from rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh- I didn’t know what your favorite flowers were, but I saw these and they reminded me of your rose pin. Plus they were red and I knew you’d appreciate that so I-”

“They’re beautiful,” You reply, effectively cutting off his ramblings. His eyes snap up to yours, soft and warm and calming; relieved. He smiles and you can’t help but do the same.

“Really?” He asks, hopeful but uncertain, and absolutely adorable. You giggle and nod, unable to express yourself with words, they wouldn’t do your joy justice now, anyway. His whole body seems to sag with relief. “Oh thank God, I thought I’d have to end up giving them to Jin hyung to use for whichever girl he wants to impress this time. I thought you’d hate them-”

You shake your head, closing the small distance between you two so you can grab the hand wrapped around the roses. His mouth snaps shut and a blush rises to both your cheeks. Happiness and joy flood your chest and you swear it’s the most you’ve ever felt at once. You look down, eyeing the golden box.

“What’s in the box?”

For a second the Ravenclaw looks confused before he seems to remember himself and he holds the roses out for you to take. You grab them, heeding his mumbled warning about the thorns and quickly settling your fingers in a clear spot on the stems.

His eyes flick up to you, the ginormous grin on his face almost seems painted on, like it will never fade away. Gripping the lid, he removes the top and you release a gasp, your free hand coming on instinct to cover your mouth.

“Butterscotch!” You exclaim, immediately digging into the box to grab a candy, popping one into your mouth. The buttery sweet taste instantly flared on your taste buds. “How did you get them? I’ve been looking for years, but they don’t sell them in Hogsmeade.”

Taehyung grins, proud and confident. “Turns out McGonagall has quite the liking for them, too.”

You stare at him, your heart in your chest swelling with love and admiration for the boy in front of you. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold, the snow falling in clumps around you both, and you shiver, but not from the snow. Without a second thought, you lunge forward and wrap your hands around his neck, careful not to shuffle the roses too much.

Taehyung stumbles back slightly, frozen in place before his arms snake around your waist, hugging you to him tightly. You’ve had many hugs over the years, but you have to say this one is the best by far. He nuzzles his nose into your hair while you nuzzle yours into his neck. He’s warm and strong and in his arms, you feel protected, like nothing else in the world matters.

You pull back just enough to place on tender kiss on his lips. It’s short and sweet, but perfect in every way.

He blinks, dazed, but his face breaks out into another grin and you’re positive that it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N?” He whispers, his breath coming out as a puff on condensation in the cold weather. You hum, your hands wrapping around the collar of his coat. “Will you be my Valentine?”

You cock your head to the side, pretending to contemplate your answer. “I think I have a better idea.”

His eyebrow raises, a smirk taking the place of his boxy grin. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I could be your girlfriend,” You murmur, your lips just barely grazing his, confidence coming off of you in waves.

Your best friend kisses you again, just a peck, but it was enough to make your heart melt. Since when did you become one of those lovesick fools? “I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Oh yeah, since you met your best friend.

#taehyung #bts #bts fic #bts taehyung fic #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts kim taehyung fic #v #bts v #bts v fic #v fic #taehyung fic #kim taehyung fic #ravenclaw!taehyung #gryffindor!reader #hp #hp fic #bts Hogwarts fic #bts in hogwarts #request #written #this got much longer than I intended #oops #sorry its late #took me a while #for anon who requested tae and Gryffindor reader #here you go #imma edit this in the morning #theres probably so many typos and errors

[starbase-yorktown]

I used to think you were the strong one.

We were both strong, but I used to think you were the strong one. I was the shadow, the protector. You were the one that seemed to actively search out trouble, to dare Death and spite God with your each breath--your each breath taken in with lungs diseased to fuel a body small and oft broken. If life was a brick wall, you--blinding star, falling asteroid--were a sledgehammer. 

You were the strong one, because for me it was easy to be strong. For you...you were strong when it shouldn’t have been possible. 

And so, the pattern unfolded. I was strong. You were stronger. On and on we went, falling from each other, falling in and out of hands unkind and cruel. 

Break apart. Mend. Break apart again. Staples and thread and glue. Soldier, keep on marching. 

Keep on marching, marching, marching as we kept falling--falling from trains and skies and rooftops, through air and time and water, into snow and ice and dust--

You stood up, whole enough to keep upright, head tall. I crawled on fractured limbs and shredded skin, my tongue trapped behind a stapled mouth I pried free with bloodied fingers. 

But I’ve had it backwards, it seems. My tongue turns bitter, my temples pound in time with my chest and my fists both flesh and steel, because it was all a masquerade, a cheat, a lie. I kept fighting for you, I kept fighting for me, because strong and stronger, but now it all is upside down. The blue I thought was the sea is the sky, the gray I thought clouds concrete racing to strike me. Strong and stronger, stronger and stronger still. We fell through dimensions, lost all and every, shattered upon wastelands and scattered along hillsides, and I clawed forward because stronger and stronger still! Because we fell and fell but could count on the fact that we fell together; no matter our speed or the time we lost our footing, we fell and gravity’s pull, the will of time, the surety of physics--we would eventually land anew. But now, the sky is the ground, and SPLAT--

Stronger and stronger still. 

....And I realize. 

You...you are not strong at all. You are a coward. You were dead, long ago. You are neither the strong one nor the stronger one. Because you found a way to reverse your fall. You saw a cheap out, and you took it; you threw the lever, hit the switch, turned the knob. Your plane stopped nosediving and instead found a safe landing, and you left me. You left me to plummet alone, to crawl upward alone, to finally stand--alone--stronger, and look to stronger still to say, “Look...I made it...somehow...” only to find dust settling and my mended bones and scarred skin alone.

You didn’t think the life we had made was worth the dead, the loved ones worth the heartache. You didn’t think the ahead was worthy of the behind, and what does that say about the me that was before you? What does that say about the you that you’d made? 

You were never the strong one. You--the one trapped in limbo, transfixed to that rose-colored window, to the photo albums--you were never the strong one! A thunderstorm breaks overhead, hot rain falling from monsoon skies to creep into the cracks and crevices of my patchwork skin with the scars and holes I so painstakingly pieced back together, and I close my eyes and feel myself still in that free-fall. My back will one day hit snowy hillside, and I will feel nothing but pride because you are not the strong one, I AM!

I have always been the strong one. I have always been the stronger, and I weep and laugh to the down-pouring heavens as they bathe a world without you. You coward. You weakling child, I hate you.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

We were not meant to defy gravity. And yet you did, because you so feared hitting the water, plane shattering around you. All of us, the world we made, we were such hell to you that you could not bear staying. 

I do not fear gravity. I no longer fear the fall. And I hope, you selfish bastard, that you find you hate what you’ve done to yourself--that flying was a grave error, that you yearn for gravity’s embrace now forever from your reach. And that you spend the rest of your days in longing regret. 

Because I am the stronger one now. And I shall fall without fear and shatter upon the Earth at the end of my days--smiling and content. 

#fanfic #fanfiction #prose #avengers endgame #endgame #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #if you want to read it that way #fandom #LISTEN #i have been having SOME ISSUES with this movie #and i wanted to take them out on steve #because fuck you rogers #none of this movie was in character but alas it is now canon so i gotta work with it #this is me working with it #aka yelling at steve through bucky

[teratoscope]

The Grue

( @tsuirakukumo​ asks “what’s at the bottom of the abandoned mine shaft?” ) As the last of the pale, fanged creatures dies, you clean your blade. Your hireling’s torch gutters, and the edges of the room flicker. “Mind that,” you tell him. “It’s a fresh one, ma’am. Just lit.” You grumble. “Wonder where all these folks must’ve come from,” he says. “Strange men don’t just grow out of the walls.” Your fingers brush the old bite scars on your neck. If he only knew, you tell yourself. Still, the question troubles you. They are too human for your comfort. They ought to be buried somewhere, or you’ll just invite more trouble later. The torch winks out. “Damn it, Harville!” “Wasn’t me, ma’am!” You think about how far down you are. You know you’ve been further for other jobs, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. Out of the corner of your eye you notice motion—a flicker of something darker than the inky shadow of this miserable hole in the ground. And then: teeth. Rows upon rows upon rows upon rows of teeth, shining impossibly in the dark. HD 11 MV illuminated: 60’ flying; dark: teleport without error AC chain AT bite (4d6) Special blindsight 600’, devour, link shadows, infectious dark, narrow the path

devour—anything brought to 0 hp or lower by the Grue must save or be eaten. They return within reach of their party in 4d3 exploration turns, apparently wounded (put them at half hp). Roll on the table below for how they’re altered: The Grue has given you... (1d8)

hunger for blood. You must consume a living thing’s fresh, hot blood daily. You function as though you had one less hit die each day you go without—this can kill you. Pick a stat: you gain advantage on all checks with that stat after you top up until your next full rest. Indulging your desires further will grant you other vampiric gifts, but the drawbacks start stacking up too. At the moment you just look ashen and unless you’ve eaten you’re room temperature.

strange company. You have a doppleganger out in the world; it looks like you if you had your shit together more. It needs to create suffering, or so it claims. If you die, it dies, and it’s profoundly self-interested, so if you’re in deep shit it will save you in the short term. It has all your abilities and knowledge, and can disappear when no-one’s looking, popping back into existence the next time you sleep.

sight beyond sight. With an exploration turn’s investigation, you can read magic and identify the basic astral register of any given object. You are also especially attractive prey to astral predators, and any spell cast on you now does d3 psychic damage in addition to its standard effects. You see things other people don’t and that can make trouble.

what you need to survive. When you would ordinarily make a save vs. death, you can instead forgo the roll and molt your skin, steadily taking on arthropod traits. You lose 1d3 Charisma every time you do this; you can’t get it back. If you hit 0 you wake up to find yourself transformed into an enormous vermin, strictly concerned with eating and breeding.

fertile flesh. Pale, slimy blooms and dark, fibrous vines grow from your body. They glow in the dark, shedding light as a candle. The light is especially attractive to the undead; they won’t harm you so long as they can see you by your light, but your friends won’t be so lucky.

a place to call your own. Any given door you open has a 1 in 10 chance of being a door into a 5’ by 5’ space of total darkness. There is something else in the room, and if something enters it that’s not you they take 1d6 cold, 1d6 slashing, and 1d6 psychic damage each round. It takes a Dex check at disadvantage to escape. If you step in, you have to make your case to the other thing in the room to let you back out—it likes to be fed.

insight. You automatically know the worst thing a person’s done by looking at them. You know because the first time you look at them you’re dropped in a realtime recreation of that moment that you can’t change. If they do a new worst thing you get to go through the whole process all over again.

purpose. You know exactly how long you have until something you love dies. When the timer runs down or you change things so that it’s no longer accurate, you get a different countdown for a different beloved thing.

link shadows—the Grue can link any two dark areas it has been present in such that anyone with no light source that ventures into one appears in the other. The Grue can make this transfer at any time in the round, as well as outside combat, and it is aware of the state of any shadowed area it has been inside. infectious dark—each round in the Grue’s presence causes light sources it has line of sight on to dim. Bright light degrades to dim light, and dim light degrades to darkness. narrow the path—the Grue can compress space, eliminating up to 25 square feet of open air that it has line of sight on instead of using its attack. It can also telekinetically shut and bar any door it has passed through.

Anyone who’s raised a child where there’s shovels and dirt knows that there’s a call that comes upon them to dig. There’s no goal in mind when they do it, just a bottomless need to go make a hole in the ground. They become quiet, cryptic, tireless. Most of the time the feeling passes, and the child moves on with their life, and if you ask them why any of it happened in the first place they’ll be just as puzzled as you. Sometimes the child never abandons that feeling. Some channel the urge and become prospectors, following the lightless song of their mania. Some become adventurers. Others, if they are allowed to dig long into the night, when the clouds are heavy and no moon is in the sky, simply vanish. Not always, but often enough to fill a parent with dread to see the tip of a spade bobbing up and down in the steadily deepening pit out behind the house. Every once in a while, under the right conditions, you can hit a pocket of something that hasn’t seen light since before the world was made, and it will swallow you up and spit you out a new creature, delivered across a span of years and miles unfathomable to you. Not all vampires come from these conditions, just the first ones. All of this happens because the Grue wishes it. What you meet down in the hole isn’t really the Grue. The Grue is vast, invisible, deeply interwoven with the world—mycelial, in short. It’s the dark that’s there because, if you look at things on a small enough scale, light stops working. The things we call the Grue are just “mushrooms” poking up out of subatomic reality into the world we recognize. Although as far as anyone knows they aren’t built for a reproductive purpose. All of this is why you can kill the Grue and run into it again two weeks later in a different lightless hell, where it’s been for longer than history can say.

#frp #frpg #ttrpg #dnd #D&D #dungeons and dragons #monster #monster design #game design #fantasy #bestiary #homebrew #ruleslight #statblock #worldbuilding #fantasy ecology #monster ideas #elemental #darkness #shadow #horror #aberration #magical beast #Grue #vampire #vampiric #subterranean #gothic #gothic horror #body horror

[poppyknitt]

ERROR 404- A JSE Egos fanfic: Winter Holidays special pt. 1

Recap: Our Marvin has finally returned from the dimension he was hiding in, and he regrets every single bit of his prior actions, however, he is forced to spend the next few months in the hospital for while his severe injuries heal. Meanwhile, however, it was discovered that another, much stronger Anti, from a separate universe, has found his way here, and allegedly plans to conquer ours, in his attempts to conquer as many worlds as he can. But, all hope is not lost, as his world’s version of Marvin- whom goes by the name ‘Merlin’ as to not cause confusion- has also come to this universe, in attempt to stop him, and bring him back to the pocket dimension that they apparently came from.

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[December 25th]

Marvin opened his eyes, and let out a short scream as he realized where he was. He was in yet another vision, and this time, he was falling very fast. He flailed around desperately for some sort of way to catch himself, but to no avail.

After a few solid minutes of falling, he was suddenly picked up by the talons of a bird, and quickly flown somewhere, only to be flung forwards, as the bird turned away and the world dissolved to darkness.

“Marvin, thank god I found you!” The child’s voice from his previous visions spoke.

“You again? What- What’s going on? Who are you?”

“My name is Liam. I’m a different version of your Jackie’s newborn son. It’s a long story.”

“Wait, newborn son?! When- When did Jackie have a kid?!”

“Two.”

“What?”

“I have a twin. We were born almost an hour apart, but on separate days. I, the 15th of December, and him, the 16th.”

“... On the anniversary of Overnightwatch, no less..”

“Yes, but for my universe, that would not happen for a fair amount of time.”

“Well, anyways... Why are you contacting me? What do you want?”

“... To warn you.”

“Warn me? About what?”

“About him.”

“Him? Who’s ‘him’? You’re not making any sense, kid!”

“... My Anti. Currently, you are in stasis. He captured you quite a while ago. He.. replaced you with a false. You were the first to go. Now, only Seán and your universe’s version of my father remain untouched by his strings.”

“What?! Wh-How?! Why?! Why tell me?!”

“You’re the most important factor to work against him. It is your kindred nature and determination to fight for the others that will ultimately prove most vital if we plan to save your universe, or at least you and the other egos. Wake up, Marvin! You have to wake up! We need you now, more than anything else! Merlin needs you!”

“Wait-!” He began, but it was too late. The vision had already begun fading.

~~

Marvin shot up, eyes snapping open as he gasped for breath. He looked around. Oh god, it was true! The other egos..! They were here, too! He stared in horror at the sights before him- Schneep hung from an unseen object, green strings wrapped around his wrists tight enough to keep him suspended. JJ was lying on the floor, his movements completely hindered by strings, too. Robbie was partially dismembered, with his body sort of spread across a small area on the floor. Worse yet, Chase was propped up against an unseen wall, a small line of blood trailing from his mouth. The vlogger’s shirt had a fresh patch of blood in it, and he knew in the back of his mind that Chase had been the most recent one to suffer. Then, he saw the children, and his heart sank with dread. Grayson and Samantha were cuddled up against each other, their faces stained with tears and blood, while two little baby boys, whom he assumed to be Liam and Brandon, were huddled in their lap for warmth. This Anti... went after the children?! Oh, how it pained to even think about what he could possibly even have done to them. He looked around more, and his heart sank more and more as he took in all of his surroundings.

He got up after a while, and attempted to shake the egos awake, one by one. He didn’t bother with Schneep, though, because he knew it was probably too late for the doctor. Schneep’s chest was almost entirely covered in blood. He slowly approached the kids, and shook each of them. Only Grayson stirred, but he just shifted. The poor boy didn’t have the energy to open his eyes, and it hurt Marvin to know this.

He sighed dejectedly, and turned, going over to where his now partly bloodstained mask rested on the floor, picking it and his cape up. Opening a portal, he looked back one final time, feeling his heart on the verge of shattering as he gave one final goodbye to his real family, and stepped through the portal, silently praying he had managed to get the coordinates perfect this time.

As soon as he exited the portal, however, he tripped, and smacked into the ground with a loud thump!, sighing in annoyance as he realized he’d put it a little bit too low this time.

~~

Merlin could feel the world shifting, and, despite his hopes, knew this was the final hour for his new friends. He swiftly ran back to Jackie and Ava’s place, his heart racing as his mind spiraled into a mad flurry of not-so-positive “what if”s. If he was going to save someone, he knew, deep down, that it had to be Jackie and his family. He couldn’t let them down! Not like this!

The thought only made him run faster, and, not even bothering to go inside, he used a few trashcans and the outcropping over the entrance to the apartment complex to jump up to their balcony, and opened the door quickly, yelling for Jackie and Ava to “Get ready for shit to get really fucking bad in a few minutes!”

~~

Seán sensed something in the world change, but he couldn’t place exactly what. He quickly went to one of his windows, trying to see if he could tell what it was from there.

A yelp of surprise, followed by a slightly quieter crash and a loud thud, caught his attention, and he turned to see Marvin on the floor behind him.

“Marvin?!”

“Oh, hey Seán. Didn’t know you’d be here.” The magician stood up, rubbing his head.

“What the hell are you even doing here?! I thought I told you I never fucking wanted to see you again!” He spat.

“Wait- Wh-What?!” Marvin stuttered, backing up a bit as his eyes widened. Seán stared at him, as he realized the shock was genuine.

“How do you not remember?! It- It happened right after you forced Jackie to nearly kill Anti!”

“Wait, what?! I-I never did that! I-I’ve been stuck in another dimension for ages! I don’t even know what day it is!”

“What?! But- Then- Who have we been chastising for betraying our trust this entire time?!”

“I-I don’t know-“ The light sound of a foot hitting the floor interrupted his speech, drawing both adult’s attention.

“A copy. You’ve been interacting with a copy of him for several months now.” Seán looked to the source, shocked to see what looked like a hologram projection from one of those old sci-fi shows of a child. Not to mention that the kid looked a bit like Jackie, too.

“Liam?! What are you doing here?!” Marvin exclaimed as the kid stepped closer, the hologram effect fading as he seemed to cross into their world.

“Liam- Wait, what’s going on?! Marvin, what the hell-?!”

“We don’t have any time to discuss this! My world’s Anti is going to kill you all if we stall any longer!”

“Shit, you’re from his world, aren’t you?!”

“Come on!” Liam yelled, as he grabbed Marvin by the sleeve, and gestured for him to follow as he practically dragged Marvin back through the portal he must have used to get into Seán’s house. Seán sighed inwardly as he followed, not wanting to risk getting killed because he didn’t listen to the kid with obvious superpowers.

~~

Chase woke up, and groaned quietly in pain. His wounds still ached, but the blood on his shirt was drying. He wiped as much of the blood on his lower jaw away, and shakily sat up, trying to remember what all happened. All that he knew was he had been ambushed by two Anti’s on his way back home. Raising his gaze to look around himself, he froze, horror wrenching his gut as soon as he saw the scene before him.

Schneep hung from above, his body limp, eyes closed, and work scrubs covered in blood. He looked... He looked like how Robbie had described him looking after Anti almost gutted him, back on the glitch’s birthday! Oh god, how long had he been here, like that?! His eyes finally managed to break away from the doctor, and with each new ego he saw, his heart shattered more and more. JJ was on the ground, his head bloodied and partly cracked open, like it had been after Marvin attacked him. He shuddered at the memory, which was still freshly scorched into his mind. Robbie was nearby, his arms and a leg detached from his torso, with his right arm being in three pieces.

Chase checked the area for signs of either Antis’ return, and when he saw nothing, took his chances, and made the agonized dash to JJ’s side. He had planned to take the mute back to where he had been prior, but his eyes fell on his and Jackie’s kids as he looked up, and his heart stopped.

Making sure he didn’t drop Jameson on the ground as he made his way to the kids, he practically dropped to his knees by their side, and, placing JJ on his other side, checked to make sure they were still alive.

To his relief, he could definitely feel their hearts beating, and, despite the circumstances, began to cry in relief. He hugged his poor babies, wondering why Stacy hadn’t told him they were missing. As he sat where he was, his biological children and nephews held closely by one arm, his dearest brother Jameson hugged by the other, while tears slowly fell down his cheeks, he smiled faintly to himself. Something, almost like an instinct of some kind, inside of him told him that this was it. The world was ending. But, yet... He didn’t care. As long as he got to spend his final moments with JJ and his kids, he would be happy to die.

~~

Marvin had no clue what the hell was happening anymore. Everything was a blurry mess at this point. Liam was cowering fearfully behind him and Seán, as they used a protective spell to hold back the out of control glitch before them, who was too focused on trying to break down the spell to realize he could probably just warp behind them and attack from there.

Their magic briefly faltered, and the terrified look on Seán’s face confirmed that they had detected the same thing. Not a moment later, the world started quaking, and he could feel their reality beginning to break. A bright light erupted from somewhere in the distance, and the last thing he heard and saw as the world was enveloped in white and he slammed painfully into the ground, was Liam shouting his name and running to him.

~~

Merlin was using his magic to put a barrier between his Anti and Jackie, Ava, the babies, and himself. He knew it was probably game over, since the glitch had them cornered, with no visible means to escape anywhere between them and their attacker.

Then, a flash of red streaked past his barrier, as he felt the world beginning to crumble, and he screamed for Jackie to come back. The world began to go pitch black as the last thing he saw was this world’s version of his oldest brother getting brutally cracked in the face by his greatest enemy, while all he could do was trip while attempting to run after him, forgetting he was supposed to be protecting the hero’s family, screaming for him to turn around. The last thing he heard was Ava shrieking in pain-

...

You blink, wide-eyed. Oh, god, what the hell happened?! Where was the universe?! Why were you cut off from it? You bang on your monitor a couple times in confusion, attempting to see if it’ll reboot. The monitor just glitches briefly, and presents you with the dreaded Blue Screen.

You sigh, and turn your attention to the WorldView monitor. Blank. Nothing of importance was happening right now. Shit.

Swiveling around to the only other monitor in the room, you turn it on, and access the Error Logs.

[...]

[....]

[.....]

[Error... Camera Viewpoint connection lost.]

Damn it.

[<Attempting to reconnect...>]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[<Attempt failed. Try again?>]

[Yes]

[No]

You put your hand on the mouse, and swivel it over to the option you intended to click.

Now, it’s up to you, dear reader! Which do you choose to do- Sacrifice your ability to view more stories from World Initiative, or do you try again, hoping desperately to restore what you’ve lost? Respond with your choice via an ask, a comment, or a reblog!

——————————————————

Next Chapter

@antis-loyal-puppet @tiny-septic-puppet @rorald-spooks @septic-dr-schneep @ihaveanunhealthyteaaddiction @insaneangel18-blog

#WritersofJack #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #wi!marvin #wv!marvin #wi!anti #wv!anti #wi!seán #wi!jackie #little baby liam #bold little brandon #fanfic 2 #World Initiative #WorldView

[lombax-lombardi]

Brief distraction but thinking about my Dragon Age self insert Madilyn Yules.

- Since her Father is a Dalish mage he teaches her elvish phrases his clan taught him so she can use them if she ever becomes a trader and trades with Dalish clans on the move.

- Brunnhilda her dwarven mother, teaches her how to make dwarven craft as when she arrived on the surface she was in awe of the people. Sure she will never return to Orzammar ever again but she wishes her daughter to know how strong her people are.

- Madilyn has pointed ears much like her father, which makes her stand out among most people are many people believe the rare child born to a dwarf and elf look just like a dwarf, Madilyn inherited much from her Father, Erro.

- Brunnhilda is a tough as nails Mother to her daughter. She was strict as was Erro but they raise her with kindness.

- Much like her Mother, Madilyn is into elves. That's a hint.

#maddi rambles #self insert lore time #OC: Madilyn Yules #HEY SO #YESH I CANT SLEEP SO LORE DUMP TIME

[leeferal]

Whumptober # 16 - Pinned Down

@pretttydemonboy​ here’s another one.

:::::::::::: 

Shields aren’t things that Gruff typically uses. They’re usually too small to properly do anything. They take always take up one of his hands which makes his preferred weapon - two handed greatswords - impossible to use.

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to use them though. He just doesn’t.

Except for when he desperately needs to, like now. The city that he and his crew are travelling through has found itself besieged by a dragon because of course it has. The whole lot of them either are cursed or something similar.

Erros is down.

Gruff is the closest. So he grabs the tiny gnomis man and takes cover behind a newly overturned cart. He wants to rage and fight and so much more but can’t. No one has any potions except Cinnibari and he’s nearly halfway across town on top of a church steeple raining deadly arrows down upon everyone he aims at. Torvyr is out of spells and that leaves just Gruff to keep the wizard on this side of death rather than the wrong one.

“Get up!” Gruff orders the unconscious gnome. He’s got burns and singed hair but he’s breathing.

Gruff doesn’t know how to treat burns. Cuts? Of course. Broken bones? He’s a pro. Drowning? Childs play. He’s never had to deal with not being on the receiving end of bad burns. He doesn’t know what to do and it doesn’t help that the dragon keeps setting everything on fire.

Keeping Gruff from bringing Erros over to someone who might know more about medicine.

The others can be heard taunting the dragon, trying to lure it away from where they probably think Gruff is getting Erros back up on his feet. They need Erros back on his feet. Erros and his spells. The dragon doesn’t seem to be paying the others any attention though, more entertained by watching Gruff peek out and dive back to cover.

“Keep breathing,” Gruff mumbles to Erros’ limp form in his arms. “Just a bit longer.”

#Gruff Sharptooth #original fiction #original character #whumptober #post #fic