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#prologue
hashbrownswift · 7 months ago
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Fearless (Taylor’s Version) prologue
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idol-trickster · 4 months ago
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“Something’s not right...I can’t remember how I got here.”
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Heyo! I love the tips of writing! It's so helpful😍 and so good! Do you have or know any tips for writing a prologue? Thank you very much!🥰
Heyo! So happy they help you out and I hope I can help you out even more :)
How to write a prologue
First advice: not every work of fiction has a prologue, so if you include one make sure it's memorable and enhances your story
Purpose of a prologue
to give background information the reader needs before starting the story
to explain the conflict the story starts with
to set the tone of your story
to introduce some of the characters
to foreshadow
Different kinds of prologue
Full-on action - especially if your story starts slow, you will still want to keep the reader's interest, so if you have a prologue that is full of action and drama, but then doesn't tell the reader how this scenario came to be and what happens next, then they will want to read the story to find out what's going on
The introduction - this kind of prologue establishes the point of view of the story and even introduces some of the characters and their backgrounds. This helps the reader be more connected to the characters when the story begins. But be careful not to give away too much!
Spoiler Alert - same like the first one, you want your reader to be hooked and be excited about your story, and to achieve that you can give them something that the main character doesn't even know yet or something that will be a very important fact in the future
This is just a short overview, but I hope it helps you with your writing!
- Jana
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scopophobia-polaris · 2 months ago
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IT TOOK ME AWHILE BUT I THINK IM GETTING THE HANG OF IT
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park-jimin-isnt-real · 2 months ago
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“edge of tonight” prologue - the alley
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pairing: namjoon x reader (lots of platonic ot7 x reader)
rating: T (for tears)
updates: Saturdays at 12pm MST (sneak peeks given the Tuesday or Wednesday before)
summary: A part of him died that night. A larger part died when they couldn’t find you, and over the years whatever was left of him grew cold and hard. It was that ice inside him that got their gang to the top, that gave them power, and money, and all the things a normal mafioso would be more than satisfied with. But none of it meant anything to Namjoon. All Namjoon wanted was you back in his arms. That was the underlying motive in everything he did. For the past ten years, Namjoon built himself an empire, just so he could find the reason his heart beat.
this chapter: Jungkook sees you on the street.
tw: mafia!au, some violence, exactly two gunshots, blood, lil bit of swearing but not much
word count: ~1.6k
the edge of tonight series masterlist
Jungkook did a double take, replaying the face in his mind as he stared at the back of her head as she carried on. He had seen that face so many times on Namjoon’s wall, for so many years, there was no way it wasn’t her. The sidewalk was busy for this time of night, people hustling about to finish their shopping or rushing to arrive at their dinner reservations on time - him included. But dinner didn’t matter anymore. He turned on his heel and started after her, trying to keep a close eye on the red baseball cap and green jacket that seemed to swallow her.
“Kook, what are you doing?” the voice in his earpiece sounded off. “The restaurant is the other direction.”
“I’ll explain later, hyung,” the man replied before pulling his earpiece out and placing it in his suit pocket, turning the device off. He’d get hell for it later, but this was far more important. Taking large steps and maneuvering through the crowd Jungkook had finally managed to catch up to her, to get her within arm’s length. He placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around, eyes lighting up before--
“Can I help you?”
It wasn’t her. Now that he was up close he could tell: eyes just slightly too wide, nose just slightly too pointed, lips just barely too full. His face dropped further at her words, her voice harsh and high-pitched and angry, nothing like what Namjoon had described it as. He was so sure it would finally be a match, after searching for so long. Jungkook let his hand slide off the woman’s shoulder. “Oh, sorry,” he said, voice uncharacteristically meek. “I thought you were someone else.” She merely scoffed, before walking off again, leaving him in his thoughts.
He waited just another moment, composing himself, before once again turning in the direction he was supposed to be going in. A glance at his watch told him he was, in fact, late, and their client hated tardiness. Yeah, he was gonna get hell for this for sure. He’d barely made it ten meters when he felt something small and warm wrap around his hand and yank him into a nearby alley.
His face was pushed up against the rough brick of the building, hand on the back of his head, and he had to fight to keep his smile down. God, he loved pain. Giving and receiving, it didn’t matter to him. There was just something special about watching a purple bruise form on previously unmarked skin, something enticing about using blood smears and splatters as art.
“Why’re you looking for me?”
The voice was light, feminine, yet still carried the harsh edge of a gunshot. Jungkook’s eyes went wide, not just at the voice but at the words. He pushed himself away from the wall, easily throwing his assailant back. But instead of attacking back, instead of making a break for it, he simply turned around and stared.
“It’s you.” His words came out in a breath, barely audible over the noises of the street. It was you, he knew for sure. You matched the picture perfectly, even down to the small freckle on your cheek. Long, dark hair in soft waves, honey-colored eyes showing anything but sweetness, top lip slightly smaller than your bottom, making it look like you’re constantly pouting. Jungkook’s lips turned up in a rare genuine smile. “It’s you.”
Your eyes only narrowed at him. “What do you want?” you asked, though it was stated more like a demand. Your foot began tapping in impatience, but that only made the man in front of you more giddy.
“Oh my god, it’s actually you!” He grabbed your hand and began heading out of the alley. “You have to come with me, he’s gonna be so--” Your grip tightened and you pulled him back further into the cover of the buildings, shoving him back against the bricks.
“I don’t like repeating myself.” If he wasn’t going to give you answers, then you were going home with one extra casualty tonight. Granted, depending on the answers he gave you, that might just be the case anyway, especially since he seemed so happy. Usually the people who actively sought you out were looking for someone to fill their bed for the night, or were looking to get rid of someone else.
“You’re Y/N, right? L/N Y/N?” Your eyes widen at his words. If he knew your name - your real name - then there were only two possibilities of who he was with, and you wanted nothing to do with either of those groups. “Namjoon’s told us all about you, he’s been looking for you--”
Jungkook stopped talking when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his jaw, his doe eyes widening at the sudden turn of events. He thought for sure you’d be so happy to hear about Namjoon, that you’d want to go with him to get back to your childhood friend. A gun underneath his head was not exactly in the picture he had painted for this moment.
“Namjoon left me for dead,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion you wish you didn’t have, “a long, long time ago.” Your mind raced from countless memories with him, smiling, laughing, loving, before it changed to screaming, crying, a broken promise, memories without him. You wouldn’t trust him, never again, and that included anyone who was working for or with the bastard. But the man in front of you wouldn’t hear it.
He shook his head, despite the weapon placed there, words tumbling out of his mouth before either of you could stop him. “No! No, he didn’t, I swear! All these years, he’s been trying to find you! He never stopped!” He sounded like so many of the people he had interrogated over the past couple years, trying anything to get out of the situation they’d found themselves in. Only Jungkook didn’t care about himself in this, no. He cared about the man he had grown to respect beyond words, who the younger would lay his life down for if necessary; and the woman his elder had endlessly told him about, the guilt that still kept Namjoon up at night, the screams that still haunted his dreams.
You could put a bullet through Jungkook’s skull if it meant you would go back to Namjoon.
A stinging behind your eyes warned of tears long unshed, emotions pushed down for too long starting to boil once more. “Well then,” you finally spoke up, lowering the gun and stepping back, voice and hands shaking. “If Namjoon wants to find me so bad, then he’ll have to come find me himself, won’t he?”
Jungkook opened his mouth again to answer, but you’d had enough. You aimed and shot twice - once, at his calf, twice, at his shoulder - the noise causing a panic out on the street as people began racing away from the potential danger. He fell back against the building, slowly sliding down the wall, a sweet yet cruel smile on his face. You dropped the gun and ran, easily blending in with the rushing masses, and disappeared.
“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered, trying to put pressure on his shoulder wound, his leg simply giving out. The shots weren’t aimed to kill, just impair, meant to give her time to get away from him.  “He never mentioned how good a shot she is.”
He reached into his suit pocket for the earpiece, turning it back on and cringing at the yelling that suddenly filled his ears. “--were gunshots! Jungkook, so help me, if you don’t answer I swear to God--”
“Hyung,” he interrupted, voice strained from pain. “I got one in my shoulder and one in my calf, both pointe blank. Not meant to kill me, though.”
“We’re tracking you now, car’s three minutes away from you,” a calmer voice said. “Just hang on a bit longer.” Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. Today, at least, he would live. Tomorrow, however...
“What the fuck happened Jungkook? Why’d you just go off on your own like that? How’d you end up shot??” Jungkook didn’t answer immediately, taking some time to think over everything you said, what you did, his interrogator mind working in overtime. He could see it so easily, the pain and fear in your eyes at the mention of Namjoon’s name. He’d seen it before. It was the same pain Namjoon had whenever he thought about you. Jungkook couldn’t help but think, what happened to you, to make you so hurt, to make you so scared?
He was so lost in thought he barely registered when a sleek black car pulled up and two of his brothers ran to him. “Kook, hey, wake up man,” the deep voice of his leader pulling him back to reality, along with a light smack on his cheek. “We got you, but you gotta help us stand you up.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook’s voice quivered, doe eyes wide, trying to get his attention.
“We’re here, Kookie,” his eldest brother assured him (and those still listening through their earpieces), lightly patting his good shoulder while hoisting the maknae up. “You’re gonna be alright.” It was often that Jungkook got kidnapped on a job, or was injured during one, but him getting shot at was a rare occurrence, and the men mistakenly thought his behavior was due to the injuries.
“No, I-- Hyung--” Jungkook shook his head, now standing but heavily leaning on his brothers, trying to think through the shock. After a few steps he finally found his voice. “Namjoon!”
Everyone stopped to listen, the two with him staring at him with wide eyes. The maknae never called his brothers by only their name, and if he ever did, he never did it with the leader. Finally having his full attention, two pairs of dark eyes meeting, looking into the other’s, Jungkook said the three words Namjoon had been dying to hear for ten years.
“I found her.”
let me know if you want more?? i guess?? thanks for reading!! 
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crimsonroseandwhitelily · 4 months ago
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Demo Updated
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After waking up from the weirdest and most vivid dream you have ever had, you find yourself in a strange place, among strange people. Realizing that you have no memory before this point, you must navigate through this new world and its inhabitants. While your first discoveries uncover your noble birth and future engagement to a local prince, it seems that not everyone welcomes or celebrates these facts.
As you get to explore the region and its court, trying to find more information about yourself and your past, you may end up uncovering intrigues and dangerous plots. Or you may instigate them yourself. Your choices and actions may influence the world around you and the relationships you have with its inhabitants.
Will you discover this world’s secrets?
Crimson Rose & White Lily is an intrigue story set in a fantasy world inspired by the Victorian era and French 18th century court.
Content Warning: depiction of violence, death and sexually suggestive content.
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Full character customization: appearance, gender, sexuality.
Possibility of changing the MC appearance at anytime
Puzzles and investigation.
Court intrigues and plots to uncover.
Build relationships with other characters and romance.
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The Stranger (m/f): An adventurous free spirit.
The Prince (m/f): A gentle soul with a façade.
The Advisor (m): A bookish shy man, who will follow you till the end.
The Rival (f): A former childhood friend, bitter, who just wants revenge.
(More information coming in future updates. The two last options have not yet been mentioned in the available demo.)
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Prologue + Chapter 1: about 20k words average read (no diverging paths)
Playtime: 30min to 1h (approx.)
Story Content: 24k total words without code, 54 passages.
1 non-cannon ending.
Play now on Itch.IO
Rate on IFBD
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nunchiimagines · 4 months ago
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Pied Piper: Prologue
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— Summary: You’re a recent grad who was given the dream opportunity to intern abroad in South Korea. When you moved into a small, somewhat homely, apartment complex in Gangnam, you were pleasantly surprised to have become neighbors with 7 very intriguing, very charming, very handsome young men. You weren’t expecting them to have become so attached to you so quickly and that’s probably because you’re actually their reincarnated soulmate. To make matters even more convoluted, they’re also part of the mafia, they’re demons, and they’re heir to the throne of the underworld. Who’d thought that your once normal life would change so drastically over the course of such a short time?
— Pairing: demon lord! mafia boss! bts x poc! curvy! intern! reader
— Genre: super fluff / poly!au / mafia!au / demon!au / soft yandere!au / soulmate! au
— Status: On Going
— Warnings: quick explanation of the backstory, mentioning of very violent and graphic situations, allusion of depression, somewhat happy ending?
— Word Count: 2.6k
~MASTERPOST~
CHAPTERS: Prev - Next
**AUTHORS NOTE**
This is the revamped version of Sweet Tea and will be officially started once Choco Bun is finished! :) For now, enjoy the prologue!!!!
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Once upon a time, many years ago, demons were not looked at as a mere myth, religious aspect, or even a means to scare children into shape. At least, not like they are today. No, demons were about as common as deer were in the forest and had stirred up unfathomable trouble across the world. The sudden increase in violent activity from them became unsettling amongst the countries and many had taken hefty damage due to it. The smaller less defensive villages and towns ended up becoming completely raided by them; falling prey to their pillaging, slavery, and murder.
Such themes were no surprise to humans, these characteristics having been carried on through generations prior. What was unfortunate was that as a result, all demons got branded vicious, vile, monstrous beings, even if they’re nothing like their fellow kin. What humans were unaware of was that most demons tended to keep to themselves, opting to find amicable relations with humans if possible. But too many demons had made themselves known under the guise of antagonists and the humans saw all demons as such. So, many demons went into hiding, doing their best to blend into society as they had no intention of being harmful like most others. And one of those demons was known as the Pied Piper.
Many millennia ago there was a kingdom that laid sturdy and strong, a vast land filled with lavish greenery, strong soldiers, diligent citizens, and a kind king. It was always peaceful in this domain, a rarity for there to be unsettled discourse amongst the patrons within its borders. You could even argue that they were the epitome of perfection. At least, it would've been for not the sudden raid of rat demons.
It was unforeseen, shocking, and a massive blow to morale. The citizens were terrified, the kingdom was slowly being destroyed each night, and the knights had become worn out by the continuous waves of rat demons. It was like a never ending battle that was going to end in the slow demolishment of such a sanctuary. Just when all hope was lost, a cloaked man appeared before the king, suggesting a trade to rid him of his problem.
The cloaked man had proposed that he would rid the entire kingdom of the rat demons if the king allowed him to stay free of charge within the castle for 7 days and 7 nights as well as 613 gold coins for his services. The king’s council found the offer absolutely ridiculous but the king, who was extremely desperate, did not find any harm in at least allowing the man to try and prove himself. And so, the cloaked man did just that.
He removed his cloak, revealing features almost unreal to the human eye. He followed up by pulling out a long and beautiful pipe, one unlike any other. Putting the instrument to his lips a melody so mesmerizing, so alluring, so captivating began to play. It ceased every rat demon from moving, their immediate goal being to focus on the new figure in sight. With each note played the rats followed after him, unaware of the fate the man was leading them towards.
The citizens were frozen in place, watching in astonishment at how quickly the monsters fell under his spell but more so with how absolutely gorgeous the young man was and how ingenious he was with music. Once the young man had reached the thick of the forest, eventually coming across a vast clearing within the confinements of the woodland area, he made sure all the demon rats had surrounded him in a large crowd. He stopped playing his pipe and with the snap of his finger a massive flame ignited the bodies of each demon. The flames were so hot that they turned black, charring the remains of all around him into nothingness. The young man watched with an expressionless face as the one who seemed to be the leader looked at him with eyes of anger and betrayal, knowing he was as much a demon as himself.
When the job was done, the young man made it back to the kingdom where he was instantly praised for his work. Many had revered him for being the child of god, the one who will save all from the wrath and hatred of demons, the extinguisher of all evil. He was affectionately given the name “Pied Piper” and offered more than what he had asked for. The Pied Piper respectfully declined the additions, kindly only asking for his original request. The king, still feeling as if it wasn’t fair, decided that the Pied Piper at least have a maid be with him at all times to fulfill whatever additional request he’d like if he happens to acquire any.
The king had offered up the prettiest maid on staff, against the wishes of the Pied Piper of course. She was a petite, doll-like woman with pretty green eyes and long luscious hair. She reminded him of a sheep, easy to break and as clueless as a rock. Luckily, with quick thinking the Pied Piper had decided to choose a different maid, one whom he’d admittedly had his eye on. She, like the other woman, held beauty in her own respect, but not just physically, something far deeper than that. The Pied Piper had sensed it since he made his way into the castle and has always kept tabs on her. Now was the ample opportunity to dig deeper behind this mysterious feeling.
The king held no issue in the Pied Piper’s decision, having praised the young woman for being kind hearted, soft spoken, diligent, and an attentive worker. Though the decision seemed to have made all parties content, it was not so with the doll-like maid, a woman who was used to receiving and being pampered at her beck and call. However, she opted to restrain her frustrations, concocting ideas to change the Pied Piper’s mind over the course of his stay.
Unfortunately for her, her promiscuous advances and provocative attempts barely even reached the Pied Piper as it had been made quite clear he had fallen in love with the maid he had chosen. Her tanned skin reminded him of the earth he had travelled, her gorgeous locks framed her cheeks like how the flowers adorn the grass, her rubenesque figure resembled the curvature of the trees he’d seen, her touch was as warm and gentle as the sun’s rays, her eyes were as radiant as the velvety colors of a butterfly, and her smile was sweeter than any wild berry he’d ever tasted. He knew that she was his fated soulmate and he vowed he'd do anything for her.
Their love was unbreakable, true, and fated into countless rebirths throughout time. There was nothing or no one that could take that away from them as they were destined to always find eachother one way or another. But there were some who dared to try, even if it meant plunging the entire planet into chaos as a result.
The doll-like woman did not take too kindly to the Pied Piper ignoring her advances and hated even more that he’d chosen someone she deemed inferior to her as his lover. In a fit of jealous rage, she retaliated by spreading false rumors about both the Pied Piper and his soulmate. She had told everyone that he and his lover had concocted a plan to bring the rat demons into the kingdom, pretending to be a false hero so he can then be lavished with praise, wealth, and fame. Unfortunately, it didn’t take much for people to believe the claims, as more and more individuals proclaimed additional false rumors.
The allegations got so out of hand that most of the kingdom demanded the two be taken into custody, tried, and convicted for their crimes. The Pied Piper and his lover desperately tried to plead to the king that the allegations were false and baseless, no proof whatsoever of their supposed crimes. They even offered to be permanently banished from the kingdom if they really felt it was all true. But the king, a man dedicated to his people, chose to follow the citizens' words against that of the two before him, unfairly skipping a trial and announcing the immediate execution of them both.
The guards instantly grabbed for the maid, brutally beating her into submission as they attempted to arrest her. The Pied Piper, in a state of panic and anger, unleashed his rising black flames, revealing to all around him his true nature. A demon. Everyone began panicking as the wrath of the Pied Piper was unleashed against the guards who dared to lay a hand on his lover. Freeing her from her bondages, the two immediately tried to escape from the kingdom, reaching the outskirts of the forest. Just as all seemed to have been a bit easier for the duo, the unexpected happened.
A loud gunshot rang out, the sharp metallic bullet piercing the heart of the maid as she had instinctively blocked the shot from hitting the Pied Piper. Unbeknownst to them, guards had been stationed in the area the night prior, having already been alerted of the two trying to escape. When one young guard caught sight of them, he decided to try and kill the closests one in his range, the Pied Piper. But what he didn’t realize was that the maid had noticed this and shielded the Pied Piper as a result, bleeding out and eventually dying in the arms of her lover.
The Pied Piper, now holding the soulless carcass of his one true love, had to bear witness to the cheering from the guards for having murdered her. Someone who was innocent, who was kind, who had accepted him with open arms even after discovering his true heritage. They had taken away his salvation and cheered, mocking her even after death.
Within a matter of seconds the sky had turned dark, thick with heavy clouds suffocating the once vast blueness. There were large cracks of thunder and vicious whips of lightning. The wind picked up, slicing into the skin of any who stood in its way and the air chilled to a low degree so quickly it became alarming. The nearby bodies of water raged angrily and both the farm and forest animals shouted out with piercing and disturbing cries. The grass beneath the Pied Piper began to blaken, dying instantaneously from his presence alone. Not long after, the familiar black flames appeared, slowly rising up before setting the soldier ablaze, burning them painfully into nothingness.
As stated earlier, there are some demons who choose to not harm or disturb the humans. Only a select few of them do so. It did not always used to be like this, many humans living amongst demons without even knowing it back in the day. But what started the recent violent tendencies from some demons was the crumble of the hierarchy. The king of the demons had passed without claiming an heir and some demons took that as permission to do whatever they wanted. However, what most demons did not realize was that the previous demon lord, in fact, did have a son, that man being the Pied Piper. The Pied Piper had not felt ready to take the throne and had opted to take a journey of self-discovery first before claiming his rightful place. And it was in that moment of hurtful heartbreak that he finally came into tune with his calling.
It did not take long for countless demons to come to the Pied Piper right then and there. It was like they all instinctively felt the birth of their new king and rushed to him at will. The sudden mass of demons who had appeared struck an unimaginable fear within the kingdom, almost as if they knew they were all going to die. No words were shared between the Pied Piper and the mass of demons. They knew what he wanted and they all instantly followed through with it.
All but the animals were completely annihilated that night. Businesses destroyed, homes demolished, streets painted red, and the air filled with cries and screams of the humans being brutally slaughtered. As the kingdom plunged into chaos, the king, his staff, and the guards were frantically trying to escape. But it was no use, the Pied Piper having trapped the two individuals who had started it all inside the very room the execution was officialized.
They all pleaded with their lives, begging for forgiveness. The Pied Piper held an expression so angry, so filled with rage and hatred that it almost came off as unreadable to any who bore witness to it that day. No words came from the Pied Piper in response to the countless offers and negotiations. No, instead the Pied Piper held up his hand before snapping his fingers. As a result of his actions, the doll-like woman's leg warped and bent with a disturbingly audible crack. The witnesses could hear the disconnection not only from the bone but also the tearing of the muscles inside.
As she screamed in agonizing pain, the Pied Piper snapped his fingers once more, decimating her other leg just as he did to the first. Each time he snapped his fingers, a limb would twist and contort in a way that was irreversible. She would scream and cry and beg, her voice reaching an octave that sent chills down everyone’s spines. Once the Pied Piper had no more limbs to destroy he snapped his fingers one last time until eventually her neck twisted 360 degrees, her head popping off as a result. It was at that moment, all the humans realized that she was being used as a precursor for what would continue to transpire to the rest of them. And they were right.
That night led to a massive impact on humans, one so brutal and violent that it was wiped from history all together. But even so, it could never erase what continued to transpire afterwards. The Pied Piper took to his rightful throne and went on a path of destruction, any human who’d ever thought about trying to hunt him down was immediately murdered on the spot. This went on for a very long time, the Pied Piper sinking into a deeper and more shallow darkness. It was almost as if he died the day he lost his lover and in some ways, he did. But after so many years had passed, something comparable to hope came into the miserable life of the Pied Piper.
An elderly mage offered up a deal to the Pied Piper. She had told him that if he could cease his reign of terror he could be granted a reunion to his lover, one where they would not have to fear being together. All that he had to do was allow himself to enter a deep slumber, one that would separate the 7 core parts of his soul, and then be reborn in a more peaceful and forgiving time. Though the Pied Piper would appear as 7 different individuals upon waking up, he would retain his powers, albeit divided, and the throne would still be his. The Pied Piper had listened carefully to the words before accepting the offer, no longer wanting to live in this hell.
With the sudden violent attacks having ceased since then, the humans lived on throughout the years forgetting the existence of demons all together. No demon had made themselves known like they used to, not in a way that would cause mass panic. The only time demons were mentioned were in fairy tales, religious texts, movies, books, and anything else alike. They’d come in various forms, in different regions, and even be called different things. This was the only way for demons to live in peace amongst the humans, at least until their king would arise once again. Hopefully, sometime in the near future alongside the very person his heart beats for.
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daffodilshaymin · 2 days ago
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❀Dill❀: “I hope you know how to get back from here...”
--
>Dill’s ref page has been updated< >Ask hints have been updated<
>World page has been unlocked<
--
@darling-zorua​ @ask-team-searchlights​ / @ifbench​
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istumpysk · 20 days ago
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Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ACOK: Prologue
We’re back! I apologize, it’s long. Trust me, I’m more upset than anyone.
The maester stood on the windswept balcony outside his chambers. It was here the ravens came, after long flight. Their droppings speckled the gargoyles that rose twelve feet tall on either side of him, a hellhound and a wyvern, two of the thousand that brooded over the walls of the ancient fortress.
Hey, what’s the relevance of these creatures? Beats me!
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Behind her, shuffling and hopping in that queer sideways walk of his, came her fool.
Oh no.
I couldn’t be given an easy chapter? We have to start with this?
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Her name was Shireen. She would be ten on her next name day, and she was the saddest child that Maester Cressen had ever known.
If you think for one second this is about Shireen, I suggest you check if an almost 10-year-old girl has the next chapter.
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"The princess would see the white raven." Ever correct, Pylos called her princess now, as her lord father was a king.
(...)
"I had bad dreams," Shireen told him. "About the dragons. They were coming to eat me."    
There’s nothing especially noteworthy about a princess, who is the heir to Dragonstone, having prophetic dreams about being killed by a dragon.
Shoutout to @shieldofrohan​! 😋
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Shireen gave a cry of delight. Even Cressen had to admit the bird made an impressive sight, white as snow and larger than any hawk, with the bright black eyes that meant it was no mere albino, but a truebred white raven of the Citadel.
Am I supposed to be connecting this to truebred Jon Snow?
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Patchface had come to them as a boy. Lord Steffon of cherished memory had found him in Volantis, across the narrow sea. The king—the old king, Aerys II Targaryen, who had not been quite so mad in those days—had sent his lordship to seek a bride for Prince Rhaegar, who had no sisters to wed.
(...)
The storm came up suddenly, howling, and Shipbreaker Bay proved the truth of its name. The lord's two-masted galley Windproud broke up within sight of his castle. From its parapets his two eldest sons had watched as their father's ship was smashed against the rocks and swallowed by the waters.
Are we sure Robert hated Rhaegar because of Lyanna?
(howling!)
+.+
"The Rainbow Guard?"                 
"Renly's made his own Kingsguard," the onetime smuggler explained, "but these seven don't wear white. Each one has his own color. Loras Tyrell's their Lord Commander."
(...)
Even as a boy, Renly had loved bright colors and rich fabrics, and he had loved his games as well. "Look at me!" he would shout as he ran laughing through the halls of Storm's End.
I realize George has stated the Rainbow Guard is not an overt reference to Renly’s sexuality, but I find that hard to believe.
+.+
His little ship had a black hull, black sails, black oars, and a hold crammed with onions and salt fish. Little enough, yet it had kept the garrison alive long enough for Eddard Stark to reach Storm's End and break the siege.                
Lord Stannis had rewarded Davos with choice lands on Cape Wrath, a small keep, and a knight's honors . . . but he had also decreed that he lose a joint of each finger on his left hand, to pay for all his years of smuggling.
Imagine being utterly devoted to a man like this.
We don’t spend nearly enough time examining what is wrong with Davos Seaworth.
+.+
Davos had submitted, on the condition that Stannis wield the knife himself; he would accept no punishment from lesser hands.
I’m making a mental note of this.
+.+
"Your brother has been the Lord of Storm's End these past thirteen years. These lords are his sworn bannermen—"         
"His," Stannis broke in, "when by rights they should be mine. I never asked for Dragonstone. I never wanted it. I took it because Robert's enemies were here and he commanded me to root them out. I built his fleet and did his work, dutiful as a younger brother should be to an elder, as Renly should be to me. And what was Robert's thanks? He names me Lord of Dragonstone, and gives Storm's End and its incomes to Renly. Storm's End belonged to House Baratheon for three hundred years; by rights it should have passed to me when Robert took the Iron Throne."    
Here’s the thing, you stupid clown.
I don’t know anything, but I know that Dragonstone was the long-established seat held by the King’s heir, and you were rightfully given that seat before Joffrey’s birth. Dipshit.
I also know Dragonstone is the ancestral seat of the Targaryens, surrounded by Targaryen loyalists, and giving that seat to 6-year-old Renly Baratheon would have been a phenomenally stupid idea. Dumbass.
I also know you and Renly aren’t entitled to shit like you seem to believe, and Dragonstone + Storm’s End would both traditionally go to Robert’s children, so maybe shut the fuck up. 
+.+
I ask you, why did the gods inflict me with brothers?
I ask you, why do people like Stannis Baratheon?
+.+
"Why should I avenge Eddard Stark? The man was nothing to me. Oh, Robert loved him, to be sure. Loved him as a brother, how often did I hear that? I was his brother, not Ned Stark, but you would never have known it by the way he treated me. I held Storm's End for him, watching good men starve while Mace Tyrell and Paxter Redwyne feasted within sight of my walls. Did Robert thank me? No. He thanked Stark, for lifting the siege when we were down to rats and radishes. 
(...)
I sat on his council for fifteen years, helping Jon Arryn rule his realm while Robert drank and whored, but when Jon died, did my brother name me his Hand? No, he went galloping off to his dear friend Ned Stark, and offered him the honor
You petulant child, did you ever stop to consider your brother doesn’t see it as an honour?
"Your Grace," he said. "I am not worthy of the honor."
Robert groaned with good-humored impatience. "If I wanted to honor you, I'd let you retire. - Eddard I, AGOT
Nobody does!
+.+
When he had gone to King's Landing to sit on Robert's council, he had left Selyse on Dragonstone with their daughter. His letters had been few, his visits fewer; he did his duty in the marriage bed once or twice a year, but took no joy in it, and the sons he had once hoped for had never come.    
Hilarious. Any fanfic featuring Stannis smut has to be tagged canon divergence.
+.+
"Look out your windows, my lord. There is the sign you have waited for, blazoned on the sky. Red, it is, the red of flame, red for the fiery heart of the true god. It is his banner—and yours! See how it unfurls across the heavens like a dragon's hot breath, and you the Lord of Dragonstone. It means your time has come, Your Grace. Nothing is more certain. You are meant to sail from this desolate rock as Aegon the Conqueror once sailed, to sweep all before you as he did. Only say the word, and embrace the power of the Lord of Light."
It’s a pretty big tell whenever someone in the story claims this comet represents their ascent.
+.+
The man shook his head. "It is as you warned him. They will not rise, Maester. Not for him. They do not love him."     
x
"Those swords are sworn to Renly. They love my charming young brother, as they once loved Robert . . . and as they have never loved me."    
I smell you, Daenerys.
+.+
"Melisandre has gazed into the flames, and seen him dead."         
Cressen was horrorstruck. "Fratricide . . . my lord, this is evil, unthinkable . . . please, listen to me."    
Oh dear, fratricide!
Tell me, is it a good thing to share that in common with Ramsay Snow, Euron Greyjoy, and Gregor Clegane? Is that company you want to keep?
Is a person like that going to be rewarded with the triumphant glory of recapturing Winterfell?
Let’s ask the big brains.
+.+
In the Citadel, it was simply called the strangler. Dissolved in wine, it would make the muscles of a man's throat clench tighter than any fist, shutting off his windpipe. They said a victim's face turned as purple as the little crystal seed from which his death was grown, but so too did a man choking on a morsel of food.    
✨ foreshadowing ✨
+.+
The doors to the Great Hall were set in the mouth of a stone dragon. He told the servants to leave him outside. It would be better to enter alone; he must not appear feeble. Leaning heavily on his cane, Cressen climbed the last few steps and hobbled beneath the gateway teeth. A pair of guardsmen opened the heavy red doors before him, unleashing a sudden blast of noise and light. Cressen stepped down into the dragon's maw.    
I don’t know, something is telling me you shouldn’t go in there.
+.+
Men's eyes that once found her did not quickly look away, not even a maester's eyes. Many called her beautiful. She was not beautiful. She was red, and terrible, and red.    
Cressen’s eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see.
+.+
Here there was no loud laughter, no raucous shouting such as marred the dignity of other men's feasts; Lord Stannis did not permit such. 
x
As he hopped from one leg to the other, Patchface lurched into Cressen, knocking his cane out from under him. They went crashing down together amidst the rushes in a tangle of arms and legs, while a sudden gale of laughter went up around them.     
x
"A clever fool and a foolish wise man." Bending, she picked up Patchface's helm from where it had fallen and set it on Cressen's head. The cowbells rang softly as the tin bucket slid down over his ears. "A crown to match your chain, Lord Maester," she announced. All around them, men were laughing. 
I hate Stannis.
+.+
When a maester donned his collar, he put aside the hope of children, yet Cressen had oft felt a father nonetheless. Robert, Stannis, Renly . . . three sons he had raised after the angry sea claimed Lord Steffon. 
x
"You are too ill and too confused to be of use to me, old man." It sounded so like Lord Stannis's voice, but it could not be, it could not. "Pylos will counsel me henceforth. Already he works with the ravens, since you can no longer climb to the rookery. I will not have you kill yourself in my service."    
Maester Cressen blinked. Stannis, my lord, my sad sullen boy, son I never had, you must not do this, don't you know how I have cared for you, lived for you, loved you despite all? Yes, loved you, better than Robert even, or Renly, for you were the one unloved, the one who needed me most.
x
"If you will speak such folly, Maester, you ought to wear your crown again."
"Yes," Lady Selyse agreed. "Patches's helm. It suits you well, old man. Put it on again, I command you."
(...)
"Fool," he growled at last, "my lady wife commands. Give Cressen your helm."  
No, the old maester thought, this is not you, not your way, you were always just, always hard yet never cruel, never, you did not understand mockery, no more than you understood laughter.
HAAATTTEEEEE HIM.
(I will not have you kill yourself in my service - heh)
+.+
Melisandre of Asshai took the cup from his hands and drank long and deep. There was only half a swallow of wine remaining when she offered it back to him. "And now you."
His hands were shaking, but he made himself be strong.
Noo! Justice for Cressen! :(
+.+
"He does have power here, my lord," the woman said. "And fire cleanses." At her throat, the ruby shimmered redly.    
The great thing about Melisandre, is that she’s exactly like Daenerys.
She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. - Daenerys III, AGOT
Jon hates Melisandre.
+.+
1.
On his head was a mock helm fashioned from an old tin bucket, with a rack of deer antlers strapped to the crown and hung with cowbells. With his every lurching step, the bells rang, each with a different voice, clang-a-dang bong-dong ring-a-ling clong clong clong.    
(...)
"Under the sea, the birds have scales for feathers," he said, clang-a-langing. "I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."    
2.
Patchface rang his bells. "It is always summer under the sea," he intoned. "The merwives wear nennymoans in their hair and weave gowns of silver seaweed. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."    
3.
"Under the sea, it snows up," said the fool, "and the rain is dry as bone. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."    
4.
"Clever bird, clever man, clever clever fool," said Patchface, jangling. "Oh, clever clever clever fool." He began to sing. "The shadows come to dance, my lord, dance my lord, dance my lord," he sang, hopping from one foot to the other and back again. "The shadows come to stay, my lord, stay my lord, stay my lord." He jerked his head with each word, the bells in his antlers sending up a clangor.    
x
"The shadows come to dance, my lord, dance my lord, dance my lord," the fool sang on, swinging his head and making his bells clang and clatter. Bong dong, ring-a-ling, bong dong.     
5.
"Under the sea, you fall up," he declared. "I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."
6.
"Here we eat fish," the fool declared happily, waving a cod about like a scepter. "Under the sea, the fish eat us. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."    
7.
"Under the sea, no one wears hats," Patchface said. "I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."    
Jesus, save me. Um, teamwork?
Birds have scales for feathers? I’m going to go with dragons.
People seem to believe this is about anemones. Sure, who am I to question that? I will say though, when I see wives wearing nennymoans in their hair, and gowns of silver appearing in the same chapter that foreshadows Joffrey’s death, I tend to think of Sansa.
Yup!
The shadows are dancing, and the bells are ringing. Dance of dragons, me thinks.
Totally.
Is under the sea meant to evoke death? Feels like it. Is this about Catelyn?
Nobody wears a crown when they’re dead, yeah?
I’m going to bed. Good luck.
Final thoughts:
Fun fact! Did you know this is one of the longest chapters in the entire series? It’s second only to Alayne II, AFFC!
Trust me though, it feels roughly 10x as long as Alayne II.
-> return to menu <-
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never-never-land · 20 days ago
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I’m almost finished with the prologue ♥️
I thought I’d have it done a while ago as it’s not the longest but then Comet got sick so I had to take care of my fur baby (plus work). I just wanted to share the news with you all.
I hope you’re doing well 💙.
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lucywrites02 · 4 months ago
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From the bottom of my heart
Main Masterlist | FTBOMH masterlist
next part>>
A/N: Yes, that's me starting another series. But worry not! This story will be full of fluff.
Pairing: (he/they) Loki x gn! reader
Series Summary: You love romance and everything that is connected to love. Loki has become your good friend who quickly developed a crush on you. The trickster tries to ask you out and fails every time. Because of his shy nature the god cannot find a good way to do it and his low self-esteem doesn’t help either. And so he decides to try and win your affection by using various Midgardian courting methods, hoping to succeed.
Word count: 656 (This is just the prologue and the next part will be longer :) )
Tag list: @twhiddlestonsstuff @dreamingyouth @xladyxfatex @castiels-majestic-wings @lokistan @amwolowicz  @cozy-the-overlord ​ @whatafuckingdumbass   @electroma89 ​ @dpaccione @gaitwae @poetic-fiasco @lokitrashfan @weirdfangirl2416 @rorybutnotgilmore @the-emo-asgardian @wolfish-trickster @serpentargo @darkacademicfrom2021 @imnotrevealingmyname @nyx2021 @theaudacitytowrite @high-functioning-lokipath @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @funsized-mimi @aliiiyyaaah @handmaiden-of-mischief
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Romance. What a simple word. And yet so confusing. A feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love. According to the triangular theory of love developed by psychologist Robert Sternberg, the three components of love are intimacy, passion, and commitment.
You can tell a lot about a person by the way they react to the word "romance". One will say that their idea of romance is holding hands while taking a walk together. Another will say it’s going on a fancy dinner every anniversary. Both were good. And you always found that interesting.
Romance was your thing. Everything from mediocre rom-coms to the most cliche romantic tropes in books and sugar coated ballads. You just loved love. And even though your own attempts at finding love proved fruitless, your fascination with it never stopped. On the contrary.
You were a scientist, working for none other but Tony Stark. You knew the literal formula for love! It was weird how only three chemicals, produced by your own brain could make you feel so many things. It was beautiful. Sometimes even dangerous, but still beautiful. Dopamine + Serotonin + Oxytocin = LOVE. In the eyes of a chemist that was it. But you knew it was way more complicated than that. Human brain was a mysterious place and it was your work to study it.
You found it funny how everyone who heard about your little hobby expected you to be soft and naive. Most likely waiting for your prince charming to come and save the day. Oh, how wrong they were. For anyone who didn’t know you, you seemed cold and intimidating at first. Maybe it’s because of your ‘working face’ as your friend Bruce called it once. You were anything but. Many would describe you as ‘a ball of sunshine’. It was nice. Others, the ones that didn’t like you for some reason, gave you the nickname ‘cinderella’. It was probably meant to be an insult, but you’ve never interpreted it as such. You liked romance. What was wrong with it? Maybe you were sensitive at times, but it’s definitely better than pretending to have no feelings at all.
Loki knew that. As one of your closest friends the god knew about your little obsession. He too found it really interesting. Midgard and Asgard were very different when it came to dating, or as he liked to call it- courting. The trickster had spent hours reading books you recommended and thought they were pretty decent. You even made them a playlist of your favorite songs because Loki mentioned that one time how he didn’t have much knowledge of midgardian music. That little gesture made your friend happier than they’ve ever been. You took a lot of time to do this and that meant the word to Loki. He had a soft spot for you and everyone knew it.
Loki wasn’t surprised when he realized that the feelings he had for you were stronger than friendship. Yes, it was sudden, but not unwelcome. On the contrary. The trickster was glad that you were the person he developed those feelings for. You were kind and treated everyone around you equally- no matter if it was an alien prince, a well known philanthropist or a barista from your favorite coffee shop.
It felt like a fairy tale. Every moment with you was magical and Loki cherished your company more than they’d like to admit.
But you were too good for them. Person like you could never fall in love with someone like Loki. That’s what the trickster thought. Little did he know every time you read a story or listened to a song Loki was the only thing on your mind. You were head over heels for him, but your anxieties wouldn’t allow you to make the first move. Loki wasn’t any better. Both of you spent countless nights, making up fake scenarios and hoping that one day your dreams will come true…..
next chapter>>
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gordoncubed · a year ago
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Prologue - Page 05
[ID: A comic with two panels.
The first panel is a close-up of the stranger’s face- more specifically, their many eyes. Most of their face is obscured by shadows with the barest hint of blue and purple energy swirls. All six of their eyes glow a bright lime-green- two regular human eyes, and four eyes resembling that of a Vortigaunt.
The stranger is wearing a familiar orange Mark 5 HEV Suit. It’s none other than Gordon Freeman, though the Vortessence energy surrounding him makes him nearly unrecognizable. Green energy tendrils flare from his hands and he’s left damage to the void in his path, under his feet.
G-man faces him, his back once more on the viewer. End ID.]
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sinisterspidey · 7 months ago
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better in time ☆ prologue - sympathy
a/n: here it is! it’s shorter than i intend the chapters to be, which will be around 4-6k. nonetheless, this is really just to build up the ~dynamic~ and the ~vibes~, yanno? so, please enjoy, and lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist via ask or dm! and thank you to the lovely @rosyparkers for your banner and your editing skills, you’re an icon. also! if you’d like to be tagged in this series just lmk <3 and, as a fun little twist, each part of this series is named after a song title from the album ‘father of the bride’ by vampire weekend, and the text will begin with some lyrics from that song in italics :D
warnings: drinking mentions, slut-shaming mentions
word count: 1154
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alone in someone’s bedroom she firmly took my hand the isolation ended i began to understand
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“You know, just because you keep avoiding going over there doesn’t mean she’ll stop trying to contact you,” Ned notes.
Peter turns around in his desk chair, shooting his longtime friend and current roommate an unamused expression.
Ned, unbothered, continues munching on his bag of Lay’s potato chips, scrolling through his phone.
“Yeah, well, you don’t know that,” Peter says, mostly to himself, before turning back around, staring at Pepper’s email. 
“You’re not the only one that lost him,” Ned mentions, in between crunches, and Peter has to bite back the string of expletives waiting on his tongue. Once upon a time, Peter was the last person to resort to cursing, but dying, coming back to life, and then having your mentor die can change things about a person—especially when it all happened, at least for Peter, in a span of five hours.
“I know that, Ned.” Peter turns around again, looking out the window of their shared room, watching other students walk through the park outside their dorm hall. “I just, I’m not ready...to see any of them.”
He doesn’t have to say anybody’s names for Ned to understand what’s going on. In the two months since Peter, Ned, May, and the rest of the previously-dusted population returned, Peter’s been avoiding any contact with Tony’s family. While he went to the funeral, that was the last time he saw Pepper in person, and though part of him feels guilty for abandoning a grieving widow who he used to love as a second mother, it’s too real. And, part of him rationalizes that by imagining that his presence will only make Pepper’s mood worsen, though he simultaneously knows that he’s really just too much of a coward to face anyone who had a stronger relationship to Tony than he did.
If he sees Pepper, then he’ll have to see Morgan Stark, too, the young girl that Pepper and Tony had during those five years that he wasn’t around for. Her entire existence grew out of his disappearance, and something about that just doesn’t sit right with him. While Peter was gone, Tony just had another kid, as if Peter and everybody else who was dusted could be replaced so easily. He knows it’s unfair, but to Peter, “unfair” is all too common a feeling. As a nineteen-year-old who lost both his parents and his dear uncle Ben and had superhuman abilities forced upon him at a young age, his “unfair” feelings towards others can’t really even begin to measure up to everything he’s felt in the last decade. 
And then, even on top of all that, he’ll have to see you.
When he was dusted, you were the annoying fourteen-year-old daughter of Tony Stark and one of the genius’s old flames who’s long since disappeared. Peter’s relationship with you was nothing special, and he never had a reason to interact with you unless other people were around. For most of Peter’s life, you just reminded him of a younger, female Tony, and Tony himself was your only connection to each other. And, without Tony’s presence, you should be nothing to him. He shouldn’t care about you. 
And part of him envies you. You got five years with Tony that Peter will never get. And though he knows it’s not your fault, and that Tony was never really Peter’s dad, it reminds him of how much he missed, and, more importantly, how much he’ll never get the answer to since Tony is dead. Sure, he can hear stories from the people who were around during that time, but it won’t be the same. In Peter’s mind, he still has so much to learn from Tony, and so much to show and prove to him. He wanted Tony to be there when he graduated college. He wanted Tony to be there when he got married. And he wanted to see Tony’s face when he and his future wife eventually had a son, and named the little man Benjamin Anthony Parker or Anthony Benjamin Parker.
Now, all of that’s disappeared, and, in its place, a different present and a different future remains. You’re nineteen years old—the same age as Peter. And if you already reminded Peter so much of Tony at fourteen, then you’ve got to be even more similar to him now, and he really doesn’t know how he will react to that when faced with you in person, in a more intimate setting.
He caught a glimpse of you at the funeral. And while he thought you were just an annoying teenager all those years ago, now you’re a beautiful young woman, and he really doesn’t know how to respond to that. He saw the pain in your eyes of course, but he also saw, somewhere in those hazy, tear-filled eyes, someone who he could admire—someone he could fall in love with. He won’t even begin to think about that feeling, though.
You’re the same person, sure, but you’ve grown up, and the change in you is a shocking reminder of how much he missed. 
That doesn’t mean he hasn’t indulged in a bit of “research.” He would never admit it to Ned—or anybody else, for that matter—but he’s read a few of the headlines.
“Y/N Stark Gone Wild: Spotted At A Club for the Fifth Time in a Week.”
“Y/N Stark Seen Doing the Walk-of-Shame from Harry Osborn Apartment—Again.”
He feels bad about your situation, but he keeps telling himself that there’s nothing he could do to help. It’s easier this way. It’s easier to blame you for growing up when he was gone. It’s easier to blame you for spending all that time with Tony that he never got to. It’s easier to view you as a part of his past, then as a part of his present or his future.
“Peter?” Ned asks, shaking him out of his daydream—or daymare, really) 
“Huh?” Peter returns, running his hand through his messy chestnut locks. 
“You know you’re going to go over there at some point, so why don’t you just go there sooner rather than later? Once you do go over there, you’ll regret every day you waited.”
It’s a lecture he’s heard before, and Peter’s about to retort, but Ned continues before he can. “Whatever you’re feeling, Pete, I can promise you that Y/N is feeling that, and then some. If anyone knows what it’s like to lose both parents, you do.”
Peter stares at his friend. Part of him’s annoyed that Ned used his parents’ deaths as a way to goad him into seeing you, Pepper, and Morgan, but he doesn’t fight back as quickly as normal. He’s so close to disagreeing with Ned, as he usually does whenever he gives one of his very brief, but very direct lessons, but something in him finally snaps.
And that’s why he writes, “See you then,” and then clicks send.
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armynation-13 · 17 days ago
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Stuck In My Head || JJK || Prologue
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©Armynation-13 Do Not plagiarise, repost on any other websites or translate without permission
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Description: Jungkook always thought of himself as decisive however the decision to join BTS was not easy feat and he found himself getting cold feet. After some encouragement from the mystery girl from a bar and a promise he’ll never forget, he starts his new life and after 8 years he steps into the bar with high hopes meeting of the girl who never left his mind.
Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, Idol Au, Mutual Pining
Word Count: ~3.3k
Warnings: still nothing really- some fluff, some angst, backstory
A/N: First chapter of my first fanfic on Tumblr! In case you can’t tell from this chapter, this entire fic is heavily influenced by Still With You - my fav jk solo song. It’s not that good but it’ll get better. . Probably. Sorry about any mistakes!
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[ Next ] || [ M.List ]
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“Bangtan Sonyeondan?”
Jungkook remembered questioning, looking at his four future teammates - all of them in dark coloured hoodies or t-shirts looking at him - their newest recruit with a soft smile.
Now he was looking on at the small, dingy looking bar across the street. Eyes skimming over the window and meeting his own eyes accompanied by the slightly oversized plain black jumper and matching coloured jeans.
Jungkook saw himself as a rather confident person, whatever he wanted he would put in the work to get whether it was as mundane as getting to class first or as wild as being on tv - he wouldn’t really feel any shame in doing so either however he wasn’t expecting this.
After entering and getting quite far in Superstar K, a show designed to find Korea’s next superstar, Jungkook was pleased and ready to come home and watch the prerecorded clips of himself on tv and prepare himself for the endless teasing yet pride of his family.
However, a couple nights later the first call came. He had been in the middle of watching a movie with his brother when the first call came. ‘Unknown Number’ it had read. Jungkook had a good mind to completely ignore the call but the movie was already paused and his brother held an expectant look on his face.
Half expecting it to be a salesman or wrong number, he puts the phone speaker on.
“Hello? Am I speaking to a Mr Jeon Jungkook?” Said boy’s interest had peaked as he confirmed it was him speaking, “We saw your talent on Superstar K and wanted to invite you to audition at SM Entertainment and we hope. . .”
“Huh?” Jungkook responded dumbfounded not really hearing anything said after SM. Before he could give a smartass answer about not being interested in scams, his brother slips the phone out of his hands and into his own.
“Yes, he would be very interested.” After a series of simple yes and nos followed by Junghyun running over to his desk grabbing the first pen and paper he saw and writing down a long string of dates and times. Jungkook still in awe just watched.
That was the first of many for Jungkook and just in that week he had received a grand total of seven call from seven different companies.
Jungkook held all the business cards he had got in the mail and couldn’t help but sigh. Of course this was something he wanted to do and his parents greatly supported the idea of him as an idol however he did realise how hard it could be.
He stood in front of the first entertainment building staring up at the glass panels and huge English letters at the top. After touring the building and meeting with some of the other trainees and spending time singing dancing and learning a lot more than he’d originally thought.
This went on for the next week as he went around to different companies some more popular than others. After watching others perform, talk and work with them, Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t walking out with a better fashion sense and vocals each time.
Finally, the teen stood in front of the last company Big Hit Entertainment. This building was a lot more quaint than the others and resembled a small office rather than an idol company.
Stepping in the first thing Jungkook noticed that couldn’t be ignored was the loud rapping and blaring music coming from a room neighbouring the lobby. The inside of the building made the outside seem completely misleading as it was colourful - not blinding - and lively.
As if he was hypnotised by the heavy flow from the strong male voice, Jungkook peaked through the door and saw a boy clearly a little older standing on a small stage heavily concentrating on his music. The boy wore a t-shirt with the words ‘Rap Monster’ written in a spray paint style.
Jungkook’s blatant staring was interrupted by a short plump older man, who introduced himself as Bang Sihyuk or Hitman Bang. Jungkook toured the building with him as a guide seeing the practice room, recording studio, editing studio and more.
Through all the tours he wouldn’t want to say this part was boring but he would much rather be talking to the trainees and felt this part was too long as by the end, it was already late afternoon.
Jungkook was then led to the shared dorm rooms trainees usually stayed in and for the first time in a while felt a bit nervous. Afterall, he was crazily impressed by the boy from earlier and knew - if he was lucky - he would meet him here.
He stared at the brown door surrounded by white walls decorated with homely accessories before mentally building his confidence and entering.
He saw an average looking small living room with absolutely no one inside. Surely, everyone was told he would be coming? Jungkook stood there doe-eyed knowing someone had to be coming soon and tried his best to look as relaxed as possible.
He had just been pretentiously examining a clock when a door opening from behind.
Jungkook looked as a taller boy - in fact, the same one he saw earlier stood before him. Jungkook looked in awe as this time around he was less than 5 metres away from him, slightly soaked obviously coming from having a shower, white towel around his neck.
Worst of all, he was dressed in a large but loose white shirt and nothing covering his legs but his boxers, leaving his thighs on full display - not that Jungkook noticed.
“Wow, thighs. .” He let slip.
Okay, maybe he did notice.
—————
The boy - Kim namjoon - Jungkook learnt after his rather embarrassing first impression was the leader of the group in making and also was a rapper and producer. The group had three other current members which he had the chance to meet later on.
Min Yoongi; who vowed not to sing or dance, Jung Hoseok; Main dancer and an impressive one at that and lastly Kim Seokjin; who was also a learning vocalist but recruited for his undeniably piercing good looks.
Jungkook looked on at them with pride. Did they really think he would be able to stand next to impressive people like these?
The rest of his trial went on rather smoothly and he couldn’t deny the attraction he had for the boys, he had ended up overstaying and after business talk was done it was supposed to be the part where they wooed him over but instead made easy conversation and jokes.
After a day or two to think it over, a decision had been made. An odd decision, others thought but to him it was the only one that felt right. He requested he could use the facilities at bighit before he became an official trainee and it had been accepted.
That’s how Jungkook spent most of his time at the company already meeting with the others regularly and working on a project absolutely no one knew about. He didn’t want to say he was desperate to look good but definitely wanted to make a lasted impression.
So he tried his hand at a bit of something the others were good at. He recorded himself and edited, he produced his own beat, wrote the lyrics all for his first self made song.
Of course, it wasn’t the best thing on planet earth but pride and happiness consumed Jungkook after completing this first milestone. In fact, he was so happy his first thought was to show the others - which had now become six with himself and Kim Taehyung; a vocalist who had a rich voice and could play saxophone.
Alas, what came next was the artists’ poisons - Self-doubt and nerves. It came over him like a wave and the urge to bin the whole project became almost too intense.
Instead of giving up completely however, Jungkook’s advice had been to ‘go for a test run’ from no other than Taehyung after he ranted leaving out key info such as ‘song’ and ‘music’.
And thank goodness he said that because if not he wouldn’t currently be with his song stored in a usb getting dangerously soaked. Planning to sing in front of his first crowd in a while.
Jungkook walked into the bar knowing it allowed younger people and so was a regular hotspot for the students who went to his school. Even so, he wasn’t surprised to not run into some familiar faces as it was 7 in the evening.
The streetlights perfectly framed the cobbled pathway that led up to the tiny building giving it a golden glow despite the wall colours being a washed out dark brown. It felt safe which allowed the dark haired boy who walked down it to get lost in his thoughts.
He hadn’t wanted to admit how bad his cold feet had gotten but he had started to really reconsider this whole idol thing.
He didn’t hesitate to open the door and enter but what he was met with exceeded his expectations for such a rundown exterior.
The place seemed to be entirely open plan despite being separated into two areas a arched doorway connecting the two. The atmosphere was so homely Jungkook had to fight the urge to take off his shoes.
Peering into the arch labelled student lounge, the first thing noticed was the many students that lingered, either night owls or people finishing last minute projects, sleep ingrained in their faces.
Long tables with unfinished projects lingered around the farthest corner of the room while some smaller ones were spread thoughout the rest of the room. Loveseats and couches all beige trailed the walls closest to the door.
The walls were a pretty and dark shade of red though that was barely seen through the wall decorations. Such as wall mounted speakers, dashboards with various messages left by people, paintings which had a small message around them saying they were made by the art students.
Then there was the main lounge. It had a surprisingly well sized stage with a golden mic stand stretching across most of the left side only other thing on that wall was the toilet doors. On the upmost wall a bar was placed - the older looking bartender talking to someone he couldn’t see.
Then nearest to the doorway was more seats and couches. It was nice but he couldn’t help but feel there was a lot of empty space/missed potential.
Jungkook reached into his pocket making sure a crumpled piece of paper was still there. It had the lyrics on it just in case.
A man who he hadn’t noticed when he first walked in called him over as he went up to the stage, careful not to interrupt the duo that was singing a song in English.
“You wanna perform, kid?” The man asked. The was older but not by too much probably being in his early 20’s. Well, Jungkook had the feeling this was a place, ‘by the students, for the students’ so he wasn’t too surprised.
“Yes, please.” Jungkook answered in a successfully confident manner. “It’s my own song, here.”
“No problem, just wait here.” The man smiled finding a mic to pass to him as instructed boy took a seat in the corner.
There wasn’t much of a crowd, he noticed as the previous people finished their rather giggly performance. However a bit of attention was still given to those who were on the stage.
He was next. The name ‘Jeon Jungkook’ was called out as he was called on. Jungkook walked up and for a second admired the beauty of looking at things while on a stage. He couldn’t explain how but it was different. It did wonders for his nerves though this wouldn’t be his first performance.
He glanced a the snack and drinks bar (obviously non-alcoholic) and thought about the celebratory drink he would get himself just for going up.
Jungkook’s thoughts were interrupted as the melody he had worked hard in producing filled the room and his head already getting lost in the notes, closing his eyes involuntarily.
“That faint voice of yours that grazed me,
Please call my name one more time . . .”
Time seemed to enter a paradox at this time with him unable to tell how long it had been or how long of the song was left. Couldn’t even tell his own voice apart from the recordings he had listened to a hundred times before. Couldn’t see who else was captured by his voice too.
“Still with you . . .”
He couldn’t help but smile there was something about this - the whole view from the stage, melodies and performing that he was so sure he was just meant to do.
Visions of the people he was performing to slipped back into his view as the song came to an end and he hit that last note.
A lot of eyes were on him staring before the soft claps of people who were close by started. Jungkook did a small bow before hopping off the stage. A smile lingered on his face as he walked over to the bar.
He took a seat next to a stranger deep in conversation with the bartender. Not wanting to intrude he waits unknowingly staring at you as you sat with bright eyes not even noticing he had sat next to you.
You were dressed pretty casually, he noticed. So was everyone else but they were carrying bags filled with computers, assignments and other school related stuff; however there was nothing on you and as far as Jungkook knows you’ve been in this spot since he came.
His staring seemed to have taken up quite a bit of time as your conversation have ended and your attention was now on him.
“Oh hey! You’re the kid with the crazy good voice from earlier, right?” You smiled. Jungkook’s face heated up from the compliment and having your full attention.
“Yes, thank you for noticing.” His reply came a little awkwardly but you were still engaged.
“So, what year are you in?” The question threw Jungkook off guard a little. “I mean, I assume you go to the school down the road like most of us?” You continued raising an eyebrow at his silent response.
“Yes, I do. I’ve got three years before I finish.”
“Ah, so I’m older than you.” You stated though Jungkook couldn’t tell why you’d question it in the first place. You were a slightly taller than him and face a lot more defined in some areas.
“So, did you like it?” Slipped from Jungkook’s mouth before he could even process what he was saying.
“What?” You asked, tilling your head slightly - something he noticed one of his members do often.
“My song?” He said, might as well go through with what he started.
“Of course.” You mumbled looking back into your glass with the orange drink in it with a coy smile. “I’ve never heard it before, mind telling me the artist?” You finished clearly joking.
Jungkook used the opportunity of you looking away to glance at your face.
He definitely hadn’t seen you in school before - he was sure. You were pretty. Your eyes reflected the many lights that lit up the bar making it look like stars. Whenever you’d smile at him, small, happy creases framed your face.
Maybe it was just his teenage boy eyes he brushed off, looking away as your eyes met.
“How’d you know?” Jungkook fixed his posture as he spoke fumbling with his hair too hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.
“The way you said ‘my song’ made it pretty clear.” You answered doing your best imitation of him.
Jungkook gasped, “No! I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I’m just teasing.” You said resting a hand on his shoulder. And as expected Jungkook’s brain went into overload for a hot minute.
“So, are you hoping to make it big?” You asked, smirk returning to your face.
“Something like that . .” He answered suddenly, frowning as he remembered all his inner conflicts he had managed to ignore through your conversation.
Sensing something is off you replied, “what do you mean ‘something like that’?”
“Ranting to strangers at random places is one of my favourite pastimes, give it a go.” You finished after getting no response.
He sighed loudly before looking at you in a scarily intense demeanour. He then explained his current situation - how he was called multiple times, how he visited all of them and his experiences at each one with great detail as if he want you to make the decision for him.
Then he started with his concerns.
“And I was thinking maybe I am too young for this, and I can’t produce as well as they can, and I’ll have to leave home.”
And continued.
“What if we don’t debut? Or I get kicked out? My voice isn’t that good yet.”
And continued.
“And I chose on impulse. Should I have gone with a more popular company? But everyone there is so amazing and I might be nowhere near their level. .”
Then he finished. His lifted watery doe eyes to yours to find your sweet, understanding and attentive gaze.
“Jeon Jungkook,” you started taking both his hands in yours. “You might be the most admirable person I’ve ever met.”
By this time the whole place has most emptied, the music had stopped and it was well into the next day.
“I can’t tell you you’ll make it or anything and I can’t make a decision for you or say you made the right one, but I can say with certainty I trust you and your gut to act smart but prioritise your happiness over anything.”
You weren’t lying, you truly did admire him. Too many people miss so many great opportunities because of over calculating and thinking - including yourself.
Mind over Heart, Heart over Mind neither are 100% positive or negative, they just need some balance even if that balance is 99 to 1.
Your lips slowly curved. “And if nothing works out it’s not the end.”
“You can always just come back to me,” You spoke in an attempt to bring some lightness back into the conversation. “Whether it’s in a weeks time or 10 years. I’m never not here, it’s my favourite place to be.”
He gave your hands a little squeeze. However before you could say anything more, “Don’t ya kids have parents or something? I’m locking up now.”
You sighed before hopping out of the stool and stretching from hours of sitting there with no movement, Jungkook followed.
After the untimely interruption, the two of you stood a little awkwardly outside the building.
“Want to sit?” Jungkook offered pointing to a large patch of grass not too far off.
“But it’s wet.” You complained despite still following him - at least it wasn’t raining anymore.
“Doesn’t matter.” He mumbled as he took a seat on the very wet grass.
“Yes it does, but whatever.” You plopped right next to him.
The clouds cleared most of the sky however due to the time of day the sky was it’s most surreal colour pink. You noticed as the both of you sat in a healing silence.
That silence however was broken with one of the most annoying statements you’d ever heard.
“Purple sky.” Came out of Jungkook’s mouth.
“Pink sky.” You refuted.
“Hey, it’s very clearly purple.” He pointed to no where in particular.
“No, it’s not.” You lightly hit him on the shoulder.
“Hey,” he says your name. “What you said earlier, can you promise me?”
A shy smile and fuzzy feeling spread throughout you; You knew what he was talking about.
“I promise.”
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spencerreidat3am · 6 months ago
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Langue d'amour: Prologue
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Summary: Being Spencer's girlfriend comes with a lot of tasks. One of them is figuring out his love language.
Category: Fluff
Word count: 0.4k
masterlist!!
A/N: So this is just a little prologue for my mini-series! I’m picturing s9/s10 but maeve doesn’t exist cause i refuse to let Spencer be sad. There will be 5 very fluffy parts! Enjoy!
I liked Spencer.
I really liked Spencer.
We'd only been on a handful of dates but I did really like him. The only problem was I'd never been all that great at showing how much I liked people.
See, I took a class in University all about "The Psychology of Love" and part of that class was focused on love languages. Now at the time, I had never even heard about different types of love languages. I figured that "treat people the way you want to be treated" applied to love as well as everything else it applied to. It was at that point I got smacked in the face with the realization that 'no you blind moron they taught you that in kindergarten to not take other kids' toys why would that apply here?'
Ever since then when I first started dating someone, I would look for one of the five love languages: physical touch, gifts, quality time, acts of service, and words of affirmation. Their giving love languages were always easy to spot, random texts of their affection was words of affirmation, constantly asking to come over was quality time, spontaneous hugs was touch and so on. It was the receiving love languages that were hard to catch.
It usually takes time, to fully know someone on that level. To anticipate their needs like that. Normally I would just wait and see. But with Spencer? I didn't want to do that.
He was, quite literally, the perfect man. Not only was he incredibly attractive, (I mean, who knew cheekbones like that even existed in normal people?) he was ridiculously kind and quite frankly, adorable. The genius part contributed a lot to that, his rambling being the cutest thing ever. But that's beside the point. Spencer, while perfect, wasn't well-versed in the art of relationships. I was pretty much his first real girlfriend. Now, I didn't have a problem with that, but it meant he had no idea what his receiving love language is. So I devised a plan to figure it out.
It's simple really. I was going to try each of them on him and record his response. It felt like a little science experiment, one that I had to keep secret of course. I couldn't taint my results by telling him! So here's what I did.
taglist: @spencerreid9 @life-imitate-s-art
taglist form!
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impyssadobsessions · 16 days ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Jack Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Vlad Masters Additional Tags: Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom) Summary:
Thanks to the suggestion of dear Ol' Uncle Vlad, the Fenton family decided to go on a camping trip. One last big family trip before Jazz is off to college. What could go wrong?
Considering who suggested the idea in the first place? Everything.
OneShot.. for now. The prologue to previous batman crossover idea I had.
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Danny sat in his tent, tinkering on a belt his parents had built. He sat with his legs crisscrossed on his sleeping bag that was adorn with stars and rockets from his youth. The belt, known as the specter deflector, lay across his lap with the back of the buckle placed to the side.  Red cylinder can was nestled in empty spot between his legs, containing his tools. Loose screws were held firmly between his lips to prevent him from loosing them.
‘Man, I wish-hate that my phone is dead.’ Thinking some music would be very much appreciated as he worked on the belt. He was hoping to make it shock him less AND protect the wearer more than just from a ghostly touch. Even just temporarily from rubble or misfired weapons, sounded ideal. He hated how he couldn’t protect his friends and sister while fighting. The last big fight he had with a ghost, that was obsessed with fireworks, had really scared him.
‘Sam’s arms are still healing from the burns.’ Danny forgotten how long it normally took people to heal after being a half-ghost for the past 2 years, well almost 2 years.  Tucker made it out with minor burns luckily, though he lost another PDA to it. Danny narrowed his eyes trying to focus back on the task at hand. He shouldn’t dwell on something he can’t change. That what Jazz told him, past can’t be changed.
‘Well, technically it can-’ He stopped his train of thought there as it brought up memories of when he tried to change the past. The past SHOULDN’T be changed.  He could only handle the present and prepare for the future, which is why he was working on the specter deflector.
Though, that was not his only reason for tinkering with the belt. No, his other reasons were fairly simple: A. He was bored and needed to focus his hands on something. B. He was avoiding his parents. Not that Danny didn’t want to spend time with them and his sister, it was more that he couldn’t.
This impromptu camping trip to the Great Lakes, suggested by dear Ol’ Uncle Vlad, was an attempt to soak in the last summer of Jazz being a “kid”.
‘I’m not a child. I’m a legal adult!’ Danny could imagine her rebuttal. Jazz had turned 18, recently graduated from Casper High, and was ready to go to college in the Fall. Which, she suspiciously didn’t mention much about it.
‘Focus Fenton.’
Jazz’s last year as a “child” in the Fenton household, was not the only reason they were camping. Much to the siblings’ dismay, Vlad had mentioned there was a recent surge of ghost activity in the area. Apparently ectoplasm levels were off the chart. Thinking about how it was VLAD’S idea in the first place, made his skin crawl.   Danny suspected it was the Fruitloop’s fault, that such a surge had occurred at all. Knowing the older Halfa enough to acknowledge a plot to kill his Father, Jack, when he saw one. Jack being oblivious, decided that it was perfect way to bond with the kids. His mother, Maddie, was also blinded by excitement. Jazz had to compromise and ask them to plan activities that didn’t ALWAYS involve ghost hunting while on the trip.
Which  brings back the question, as to why Danny was in the tent. Well, his parents thought this be perfect time to test out their new ghost repellent. ‘To repel ghost AND bugs alike! Works extremely well on Ghost Bugs!’ Danny could hear his father’s voice bellow in his head.
The first night they sprayed themselves and the unprepared pair of siblings. It gave Danny a migraine and made him sick to his stomach. Jazz, to whom Danny was so grateful for, noticed right away and tried to wash out as much of the repellent off of themselves. She scrubbed their clothes with a wet rag for over an hour. Mostly just Danny’s. She the proceeding to make excuses as to why Danny wasn’t able to join them on the ghost adventures, until she could come up with a way to either get  rid of the repellent or convince them to stop using it.
It had already been a week since then.
Danny let out a heavy breath through his nose, much like a sigh. He rubbed his eyes, tiredly, giving them a break.  He took out the screws from his lips and placed them on the lid of the mini tool kit, so he can stretch without fear of dropping anything.
“Hey, Danny!”
Danny jolted in his spot, causing everything on his lap to bounce. His hand over his chest as he recovered.
“Gzz Jazz, be careful sneaking up on a ghost like that. You’ll make mom and dad cry with joy... again.” Trying not to look too hopeful... or sound too bitter. “What’s up?”
Jazz rolled her eyes, giving Danny soft frown. Ah, looks like his bitterness showed. “We’re going to roast marshmallows.”
Danny gave her a confused expression. “Uh...” His eyes darting from her to the tent opening. “Sounds great Jazz, but I like marshmallows.. to stay in my stomach after I eat them.”
Jazz snorted, “Well, fortunately for you, dear little brother. You have a wonderful  and benevolent sister who worked very diligently so that you may eat and roast marshmallows to your heart’s content.”
Jazz played up the dramatics, her hands over her heart as she swayed with her words. Danny shook his head with a smothered chuckle.
“Yes, SO grateful to have such a modest sister.” Playing the dramatics back at her. “ Sooooo, Is it sideline for good or...?”
“Uh.. Temporarily, unfortunately.” Jazz gave a sheepish smile. “But, they don’t have the chemicals to make it on hand. Sooo~”
Danny sighed, flopping backwards onto his sleeping bag. “Ugh! Good! I was tired of forcing myself to eat. Not fun to eat, when you don’t know if its going to come back up or not.” Rubbing his face with his hands.
Jazz smiled, also relieved, “Had to mention how certain strong aromas have negative affects on those sensitive to it, despite how pleasant the smell can be.”
Danny just nodded from his spot. “Remind me to get rid of their notes when we get home.” He was already planning sneaking out in the night to hide or get rid of the leftover repellent.
“Noted, now come on! Dad’s got out the fudge to make the ‘Famous Fenton Fudge S’mores’!” Jazz making a weak impression of their Father.
Danny sat back up, “IF he doesn’t eat it all the fudge on one s’more this time.”
“Reason we have to hurry. We both know the only reason the fudge made it this long was because Mom purposely hid it from him.” Jazz scooting back towards the entrance of the tent, waiting on Danny. With a soft smile, Danny gave a nod, “Just give me a minute, I got to put the backing back on the buckle.”
“The specter deflector you’ve been working on?”
Danny nodded as he hastily screwed the backing into place. “Mm’hm.”
“I thought you couldn’t stop it from shocking you, without adding new software and programming it to recognize your ecto-signature?”
“Yea, but I wasn’t working on that. I was trying to make it, block more than the.. occasional ghostly touch. Combining it with the ghost shield and adjusting sensitivity to the sensors to uh, produce a deflecting shield over the wearer. Or that’s the hope anyways. I have to test it later. Tucker’s better at tech than me, so we’ll see.” He finished screwing the back in. Danny glanced back at Jazz with a confused look when she placed a hand on his shoulder.
“That’s brilliant, Danny! We can test it, after Mom and Dad fall asleep.” Jazz grinned with a spark in her eye that Danny failed to recognize. She seemed to be buzzing with, excitement?
Danny rubbed back of his neck, “Uh... thanks? I still got long way to go though..”   .... “Kids! Fire’s ready!”
“Best get out here quick! Marshmallows isn’t going to roast themselves!”
Jazz and Danny glanced towards the sound of their parents, before grinning at each other.  
“Race you!” Danny stuffed the belt (mostly just the buckle as the rest stuck out) into his pant pocket, as he dashed out of the tent. He used his intangibility to phase through Jazz to get a headstart.
“Hey! No fair!” Jazz huffed as she scrambled after her brother.
Danny skidded to a stop in front of the fire pit, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed the sticks leaning against the log they usually sat on. They were branches chiseled to a point.
“We’re.. using normal sticks? Like.. just tree branches?”
His mother and father were setting up the table to make it easier to make smores. They hummed with a nod in response.
“Apparently, your father misplaced the Fenton anti-ghost roasting sticks.” Maddie sighed.
“Could of swore, I put them in the RV with the ghost scanner! We designed them to zap any ghost that dare try to steal any perfectly roasted marshmallow!” Jack sighed disappointed. Maddie patted Jack’s arm to console him.
“You can thank me later.” Jazz leaned in to whisper to Danny, giving a comforting smile.
All the members of the Fenton family, gathered around the fire. Jack and Maddie sitting in folded up chairs, while Jazz and Danny sat on a log. Danny had his marshmallow poked deep into the flames. Once it caught fire, he brought the end of the stick closer to his face with a wide grin. Nothing beat a perfectly on fire marshmallow.
Danny watched the flame dance on the marshmallow with childlike joy. He waited for the marshmallow to evenly char, then blew out the flame.
Catching the side eyeing of his sister, he spoke out, “What?”
Jazz shaking her head, “Oh nothing. Just wondering about how this applies to ones psyche.”
Danny blinked, “How.. roasting marshmallows?... relate to one’s psyche? Its just preference Jazz. Like I prefer mine to match my soul.” Blacken and charred.
Danny using his teeth to pull the marshmallow off his stick, humming with satisfaction as he ate it. Jazz started to snort and trembled a laugh, causing Danny to squint at her.
“Yes, a roasted marshmallow is how I would exactly describe your soul, Little brother~,” She laughed, wiping non-existent tears. “All sweet and gooey on the inside.”
Danny swallowed his marshmallow, face reddening, “That-That’s not what I meant Jazz!!!”
“Too late, marshmallow.”
“W-well at least I don’t take an age to roast one marshmallow! What kind of nut spends like 5 minutes to roast one marshmallow?
“Excuse you! Some of us, actually have taste buds and prefer not to eat ash.”
“I do too have taste buds!”
Jazz raised a brow, lips pursed as if she was keeping herself from pointing out specific evidence as to why he did not have a sense of taste. As if trying to send the memory telepathically.
If Danny had to guess, she probably was thinking of when she caught him snack on ectoplasm straight off the filter for the ghost portal. Which, yeah... he can agree to some degree with that- buuuut he wasn’t gonna give her the satisfaction.
“Besides! Taste has nothing to do with the fact that you take forever making sure every side is perfectly golden brown! It doesn’t change the taste if one side isn’t the same shade as the other, Jazz!”
“Kids!” Their mother interrupted, “Its just marshmallows.”
“Yeah, who cares how long it takes Jazzrincess to roast a marshmallow?”
“Exactly, everyone is made differently with different environmental and biological behaviors, and thus have different tastes.”
“Besides we all know marshmallows are best when on fire! That’s the best part! So no need to argue about it.” Jack exclaimed as he excitedly blew out the fire his own charred marshmallow.
Maddie squinted, lips pursed, “Though I cannot argue the nostalgic childlike wonder of blowing out a marshmallow akin to a candle, I CAN say the chemical process of turning sugar into ash is definitively not better than the pleasure of roasting the sugar to have a caramelized outer shell, Jack.”
Danny and Jazz gave each other a concerning look. “Uh... you don’t think this will become the new S-A-N-T-A debate.. right?”
“Its the adventure of it Mads! Not science! Roasting marshmallows need to be plunged head first and come out like a flaming blaze of glory!!!”
Jazz stuffed her mouth with the perfectly toasted marshmallow, as she stared at her parents arguing about marshmallows. She replied after swallowing, “Geez, I hope not.”
“Jack, cooking IS science! Basic science! Its about making deliberate temporal changes to the product of consumption to make it consumable. When adding too much heat too quickly, causes the opposite effect, making food inedible or at least of poorer quality!”
“Ok, Ok!!! ENOUGH!” Jazz had her hands on her hips as she looked at her parents with a stern expression. “Can we just agree to disagree?”
“Yeah, besides I doubt Jazz could burn a marshmallow if she tried.” Annnnd he ruined it. He ruined the chance at peace because he opened his big mouth. ‘Dammit.’
Jazz glared at him, taking the challenge. “Oh yeah? I bet you can’t roast a marshmallow without burning it!”
Danny tossing her a marshmallow and stabbing on onto the end of his stick with determination. “How much?” ----
Jazz scrunched her face up at the burnt marshmallow that sat on the end of her stick.
Danny was cursing under his breath as he caught another marshmallow on fire. He blew it out and pulled it off by his teeth, not even waiting for it to cool. (Though he may have been using his his powers with that.) He stabbed another marshmallow on the end of his stick and tried again.
Maddie was starting to get concerned by how many marshmallows, Danny had consumed by now. Jack on the other hand was cheering and encouraging Jazz.
The teens agreed they had to eat their marshmallows once successfully cooked, reason Jazz was stuck staring at hers. She didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want Danny to beat her because she was psyching herself out. She could taste the ash in her mouth just by staring at it though.
Danny grabbed end of  her stick and yanked the marshmallow off with his teeth, eating it.
“Hey! I was going to eat that!”
“Yeah, suuuure you were. Even I know charred anything taste nasty when its cold Jazz! You’ve been staring at it for like, ten minutes!” He then groaned as his marshmallow caught on fire, again. “Ugh! How do you even get it Not to catch on fire?! Let alone toast it!”
Blowing out the marshmallow and scraping it off with his teeth, trying once more. His mother frowned, opening her mouth to stop him-
Danny saw his breath escape his mouth and a sudden chill shuddered down his spine. ‘Oh no.’
“Perhaps, I can help with that?”  A beam of pink blasted to the right of Danny, hitting the marshmallow that was skewered on the end of his stick. The marshmallow was instantly vaporized.
“Oops. Guess I don’t quite know my own strength.” A chuckled rumbled.
All the Fentons were up on their feet, looking towards direction the blast had come from. Jack and Maddie pulled out their ecto-ray guns, ready to attack anything that moved. Danny glared, tossing his stick. Fist clenched at his side, ready to fight. Jazz had picked up the Fenton bat (Baseball bat with a Fenton sticker and painted with anti ghost paint) that was resting near her feet.
A ghost appeared before them, using the children to block Jack and Maddie’s line of sight. He had blue skin and red eyes, resembling a vampire with a smug smile that revealed his fangs. Danny spared a glance at Jazz and then back at the ghost. His stomach swirled from anxiety... and possibly from all the sugar.
“Plasmius-” “Wisconsin Ghost!!!”
“Danny, duck!”
Danny and Jazz both dropped to the ground, rolling out the way as their parents blasted at Plasmius. Plasmius disappeared in a poof, making Danny’s stomach drop. ‘Duplicate. Where is-’
“Now that was quite rude! But, not unexpected.” The voice mocked, Danny glancing around. He couldn’t sense where Plasmius was, but knew he was close. No, wait. There was multiple somethings that were close.
Danny was looking for an exit, so he could change into Phantom. Even if it didn’t make since for Phantom to be there, he had to hurry and change. However, Plasmius was a few steps ahead of him.
Ghosts appeared all around the Fentons. It was like an army of animals.. mutated and disfigured. Danny back up to his sister and their parents, not liking the looks of this. He didn’t bring nearly enough Fenton thermoses, as if that was the worse of his problems.
Plasmius floated above them, a smirk on his face as he looked down on them. Their parents kept their guns aimed at the ghosts that surrounded them. Danny bit back his tongue to keep himself from cursing the smug ghost out loud. His parents were right there, and Plasmius was using it to his advantage.
“It appears the hunters have become the hunted.  Let’s see how long you can survive? Hm?” Plasmius’s duplicates appeared with some bears to separate the siblings from their parents. “If not, then your children will be mine.”
“Jazz! Danny!” Their parents yelled as the animals started to attack them.
“No Spook threatens the Fentons and gets away with it!” Green beams of light shot at the animals as they tried to fight the army of animals and some of Plasmius’s duplicates.
Jazz and Danny were now out of sight from their parents, and alone with Plasmius. Danny charging up beams in his hand, “Wrong move, Vlad. Now I can do this- ARGGGGGHHH!”
“Danny!!!”
Danny felt a surge of electricity spread across his back. It sent him back to his memories of the portal, flashes of green clouding his vision, before he crumbled to the ground in pain. His body trembled and ache. His core felt hollow and empty. His vision was blurred as his instant fatigue made his body grow too heavy to move. All he could do was stare at a pair of blurry boots floating off the ground, as he strained to listen to voices around him.
“Tsk, tsk. Daniel. I thought by now, you out of all people, would have acknowledge a trap when you saw one.” Vlad Plasmius mocked.
He saw Jazz’s.., well he assumed it was Jazz, legs move around the pair of boots. Swishing of the bat and grunts out of frustration could be heard.
“Plasmius Maximus 5.0.  Guarantee to prevent the usage of any ghostly powers for at least the next 24 hours. Tested it out myself. Couldn’t have your heroic instincts interfere with my little game, now could we?”
“Get. Away. From. HIM! UGH! Hey!!!” Her legs now kicking and dangling off the ground. Danny gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to move. Mom. Dad. Jazz were in danger! Why couldn’t he-
“I would save that energy, Little Badger.  You might need it~”
“Let me go! You-you! UGH!”
“How long do you think your father will last? Hm? Four hours if I’m being generous? Definitely not long enough for you to save him. Rather fitting, isn’t it? The buffoon dies the way he lived. Recklessly chasing after ghosts.”
“Ca-can it, Fruitloop! I don’t need powers to-unngh fight you!” Danny knew that wasn’t true. He couldn’t imagine defeating Plasmius with his powers, let alone without. He wasn’t going to let that stop him from bluffing.
“Of course, Daniel. I wouldn’t dare to fight you, even in your weakened and useless state. I have a much better use of my time then to play with you, child.”
The mocking. He hated not being able to punch that smirk off the older halfa’s face. Dammit. He was so close to passing out. His fingers dug into the dirt, as if it could prevent the overwhelming heaviness of sleep.
“That’s exactly why you won’t be here, for it.”
Jazz’s voice sounded muffled, but he could still hear her struggle. Danny felt icy cold talons clutch at the back of his shirt. The cool breeze of their wings beating.
“Sweet dreams, little badger~ Or shall I say, son~”
Danny blacked out, unable to even glare back at him. Man, did he hate that guy. 
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isa-writes · a month ago
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Demo launch
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“And he’ll discover what we do to rats!”
The demo of Thieves of Divinity is live! It contains the first half the prologue, including scenes specific to your origin.
I would love to hear about your experiences with the game!
LINKS
DEMO | ITCH PROFILE
WHAT DOES THIS DEMO CONTAIN?
The first half of the prologue, which contains 18k words and average gameplay of 7.5k words.
Character customization.
Merrily skip your way around as the Hands breath down on your neck.
Have a talk with the Larcenist.
Discover how the hell you managed to get in this situation.
AND WHAT ABOUT FUTURE UPDATES?
October and November are complicated months (*ahem* ENEM *ahem*), so the next update should be arriving on late December. However, after this period, I plan to update Thieves of Divinity every two months!
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