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#Ivy is a lot more human
viatrix-glow · 8 months
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happy hispanic heritage month 🎉 ft my ocs who were designed with the intent of being hispanic
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call-me-strega · 3 months
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Dc x DP Prompt #8: Best Friend’s Brother
Preface: this prompt can be used with different characters but I’m writing it as Dead on Main bc that’s my favorite. Also the colleges I mention are real colleges from the DCU
~~~
Danny Fenton was 18 when he moved to Gotham for college.
It was the only place with a half decent engineering program that would take a kid with his record; drop in grades, unexplained absences, missing class, a disciplinary record, etc. Plus there was a decent saturation of both magic and ectoplasm in Gotham’s air. After he got accepted he decided to tell his parents he was Phantom. They reacted surprisingly well all things considered. They were horrified to learn they’d been hunting their son but it quickly turned into acceptance to listen to what he had to tell them. Now they turned their obsession from hunting ghosts to learning more about ghost more humanely. He also managed to get his former rouges to agree to call off any major shenanigans in favor of less destructive outlets. (He got Ember a TikTok and a YouTube channel, he set up a drag racing circuit in the realms for Johnny and Kitty, let Technus enter the internet as long as he stayed within Amity’s grid or help Ember manage her stuff, allowed Desiree grant wishes for Make a Wish Foundation kids so long as she didn’t horribly twist them, etc.)
Now with the town not at constant risk of danger and his parents agreeing to really handle any rouge ghosts, Danny could leave Amity with a clear conscience. His friends were also growing up and heading to their own colleges. Tucker was heading to Ivy University in New England, which rivaled MIT in terms technological prestige, and Sam decided on Vandermeer University in Pittsburg, which had a reputation for being a very liberal, anti-authority campus. Although their trio would be spread out, Danny found comfort in the fact that they’d all moved from the Midwest to the Northeast.
With promises to stay in touch a visit. Danny got set up in GCU’s dorms, ready to move into the next chapter of his life.
~
Danny Fenton was 20 when Tim Drake (age 19 but nearing 20) officially became one of his best friends.
They had been introduced to each other by their mutual friend Sebastian Ives for a new Warlocks and Warriors campaign. Their friendship extended beyond WnW when they ended up on the same Applied Physics and Mechanics class. It was cemented when they got pair up for a project in class and had to spend lots of time around each other.
Danny didn’t mind that Tim tended to be a bit flaky and Tim didn’t mind that Danny was possibly not 100% human. They didn’t ask each other too many questions about that stuff. They knew the other had something odd about him and that was fine with them. It was nice to have a causal friend they could be normal with, without being questioned about their more peculiar behaviors.
They officially became best friends when the built a Rube Goldberg machine with a working trebuchet within an hour of the three they had to complete it for their Applied Phys-Mech final. Danny introduced Tim to Sam, Tucker and Jazz. Tim introduced him to Steph, Tam, and Cass. They texted and hung out fairly often. They truly did consider each other one their best friends.
~
Danny Fenton is 22 when he meets Tim’s family.
Tim’s 21st birthday is coming up and he has plans with his family the day of and is going out with his friends, including a couple from out of town, that night. They want to take him out for his first drink and it’s fortunate timing since it’s the weekend so nobody has to worry about classes. Everyone who was going was already informed that Tim would be spending most of the day with his family before Steph and Cass would bring to the club everyone was meeting up at. Which is why it’s purely a coincidence when he runs into them at BatBurger during the lunch rush.
Danny had just picked up the part-time job to earn a little extra cash to pay for his hobbies. Tim new about it but didn’t know the exact location he worked. That’s why they were both presently surprised when they heard each others voices in the drive through. When they pulled up to window Danny saw his friend leaning over a tired looking black-haired man, trying to stick his head out of the drivers window to give Danny a maniacal grin.
He quickly introduced the other passengers of the car as his dad, Bruce, and three of his brothers Dick, Jason, and Duke. He mentioned he had a fourth brother, Damian, who was still at home. Danny couldn’t really see everyone all that well on account of they were inside a car but he happily greeted them as well. They laughed and Danny wished Tim a happy birthday saying he’d see him at his celebration later tonight before handing them their food. He could the rowdy boys ribbing their brother as the car drove away and Danny resumed his work.
That incident seemed to have opened a gate because now Tim felt more comfortable inviting him over when his brothers were still around the house. He occasionally talked about his family more and Danny returned the favor letting snippets of his own family spill a little more. Occasionally, he’d see Tim’s family outside of his interactions with Tim.
He’d run into Damian, and sometimes Bruce or Dick was with him, at the museum or in the park while the younger had been walking his dog and stopped to say hi a couple of times. He chatted with Dick a couple of times when they were both in line to get coffee at a cafe. He saw Duke on a college tour once and waved at him.
The family member he probably saw the most other that Tim (and by extension Cass) was actually Jason. He’d ended up ditching BatBurger to get some more practical experience at an apprenticeship at the auto shop Jason went to to get his motorcycle serviced. The two of them got along pretty well and would often make conversation when Jason was waiting on his bike to be ready or to get his bill.
At first is was small talk about little things like how he and Tim were doing in class or how their days were going but they soon grew to have genuine interests in each other. Jason let Danny talk about space and mechanics and even gave his own thoughts sometimes, once helping Danny realize he was over complicating the circuit board of the device he was building. In return Danny let Jason ramble to him about literature, even taking the initiative to read a book Jason mentioned so he could talk to him about it better. Their conversation tended to be on the briefer side but were always enjoyable to both parties.
Danny actually liked being around Jason a lot but didn’t really bring that fact up a lot around Tim as it didn’t seem necessary. Tim was pretty glad that Danny got along with his family but he preferred to keep them in separate places in his mind. Danny knew and respected that, only really mentioning that he’d seen them recently and that they’d told him to say hi on their behalf (or die in Damian’s case occasionally).
~
Tim Drake was 22 when he came to a horrific realization.
Well, perhaps horrific was a bit of an exaggeration. Tim wasn’t necessarily horrified by the revelation. In all honesty he didn’t know how to feel. He felt an odd mixture of protectiveness, possessiveness, confusion, and optimism(?).
You see, Tim and Danny had been hanging out in the campus center, studying and goofing off when he got a text from Jason saying he was coming to pick him up for family dinner at the manor since he was closest and Dick was busy picking up Duke and Damian from their after school clubs.
“What’s up?” Danny asked him curiously.
Tim set his phone on the table and started putting his stuff away. “My brother is coming to pick me up for family dinner so I gotta head out soon.”
“Ah well I should probably get going too. Tell Dick I said hi.”
“Actually, it’s Jason. Dick is picking up Duke and Damian,” he said shoving his textbook into his bag.
“Oh? That’s nice of him. Hey do you wanna just head out together?” Danny asked, fidgeting with his hoodie strings.
Tim noticed a slight strain in Danny’s voice at the mention of Jason but didn’t comment. He just nodded his head sure and walked outside with Danny. They got out to the street when Tim realized he’d left his phone in the library. He faced palmed and asked Danny if he could hold his stuff so it wouldn’t slow him down as he ran back to the campus center to get his phone. Danny agreed to and hold his stuff and wait for Jason while Tim went back.
After getting his phone Tim started heading back to where he left Danny when he saw that Jason had arrived that Jason had arrived and was talking to Danny. He was about to call out to them when he noticed several things in quick succession. Danny was fidgeting with his hoodie, something he tended to do when nervous. The tips of Danny’s ears were a light shade of pink (it isn’t cold out yet?). Danny looked deeply absorbed in his conversation with Jason in a way that reminded Tim of how he talked about space. And Jason seemed just as absorbed in the conversation as well.
The gears in Tim’s head went into overdrive and he realized ‘Ah- Danny has a crush on Jason’. His eyes widened as his head whipped around to examine Jason again. He saw a look of genuine fondness in his eyes. Thus Tim was confronted with the aforementioned horrific realization and complicated feelings. Tim didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both.
‘My dumbass best friend has a crush on my brother. And worse(?), my idiot brother returns those feelings.’
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charmedreincarnation · 7 months
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When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.
Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.
I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.
I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.
I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.
I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.
I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.
This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!
The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.
I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.
My advice?
Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!
I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.
You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.
And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.
More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!
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headspace-hotel · 10 months
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I have an essay brewing in my head constantly about lawns. Which, well, unsurprising, since I post about how I hate lawns all the time, but I think the "lawn" and "landscaping" centered way of thinking about Places Outside is a Bigger Thing that Connects to Other Things
(What isn't? Having ideas about concepts is always like this.)
I will introduce my ideas by a situation where they apply: Sometimes life-forms mimic other life forms. One form of mimicry is called Vavilovian mimicry, where weed species in crops grown by humans evolve over time to be more similar to the crops.
Vavilovian mimicry basically helps weeds survive because the weeds are adapted to the care-taking regimen of the crops, and because the human caretakers of the crop can have a hard time telling them apart, which means they might say "Ehh...I'll wait until it grows up so I can be sure I'm not pulling up my crop."
I think there's something similar at work among flower gardens and landscaping...but it's different.
Regular people don't know the name of every plant that might possibly grow in their flower beds, and they often pull up plants they don't know just because they don't know them. They sometimes say they pull up a plant that "looks weedy" or "looks like a weed."
I think to myself...what does "weedy" look like?
This question collided unexpectedly in my brain with an insight I had about invasive species that I could not explain.
I have to get rid of a lot of Callery pear, wintercreeper, honeysuckle, burningbush, privet, English ivy, and other plants that are invasive where I live. And strangely- many invasive plants look similar in ways they don't share with very many native species. They tend to have small, round or squat, glossy leaves, and they tend to have a very dense growth habit.
I can think of several possible explanations: Maybe these species thrive in North America today because of the loss of controlled burning, but their characteristics look so distinct next to native species because they relate to things that would make a species fire-intolerant? This doesn't seem quite right, since it doesn't predict level of fire-adaptedness in native species.
Another explanation is better: they were selected for these traits by humans for their usefulness in landscaping. Dense growth habit would be useful for creating hedges or ground covers. This is why many invasives were originally planted, right? And small leaves might feel or be perceived as less "messy" when they fall.
But I think this is a clue to something else going on. What does "weedy" look like?
Some plants go on one side of "weeds vs. flowers" and some on the other, and it's almost totally arbitrary...so how do gardeners make the call so decisively?
I think about the commonest "landscaping" plants- Knock Out roses, hostas, petunias, begonias, boxwoods and so on- they share a lot of the characteristics mentioned above. Shiny or at least smooth, typically small and squat leaves, dense and compact growth habit.
Then I think about some of the commonest and most important "weedy" native wildflowers, such as goldenrods, asters, milkweeds, Joe-Pye weed, ironweed, sunflower. They all differ from the above in at least one striking way. Mostly, they have hairy leaves and stems, long and thin leaves, and a tendency to grow up tall before blooming. Milkweed has smooth leaves, but its leaves are long and very big. Hmm...
And I think I can guess where this is coming from.
Landscaping and garden designs often look like this
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See how the plants are drawn and arranged to cover a space in two dimensions, mostly not overlapping with each other? This is very easy to plan and design. And those common landscaping plants I mentioned—hostas, Knock Out roses, boxwoods, and so on—are very good at acting just like a two-dimensional representation of them does. Just look, you can see them:
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Now look at those important native wildflowers I mentioned:
Goldenrod
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Ironweed
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Milkweed
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These guys don't fill much space in a horizontal plane, they go straight up. They don't exclude other plants from very much space either. Plants could grow under them and among them. So they're not very good for "filling up" space, and their opener, lankier, less dense shape doesn't do a good job at blocking other plants from growing.
In a garden of North American prairie- or meadow-adapted plants, the plants wouldn't exclude each other and stay within their designated spots because they're evolved to intermix with a great variety of plants.
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"Separateness" is a big part of the typical "landscape" aesthetic. These plants are very neatly separate from each other. This is what looks "neat" and well-kept to us...the opposite of "weedy."
This could mean our garden and flower beds are affected by a selective pressure a lot like the Vavilovian mimicry situation. But instead of weeds being selected to look like intentionally grown plants, the intentionally grown plants are being selected to look different from weeds.
The subtle difference makes perfect sense. In a field, the rule is "leave the plant there if you're unsure" because that's your food. In a flower bed, the rule is "get rid of the plant if you're unsure" because having weeds is more aesthetically unacceptable than having blank space.
The point is: Ecology needs to be a big part of gardening and landscaping, because you are DOING ecology. Even if you don't know the evolutionary principles, you're acting them out.
Just like the ineffable preferences of female birds give the males weird elaborate display structures, ineffable aesthetic "senses" that govern our "built" world slowly turn it into something weird.
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poisonousquinzel · 9 months
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“Pamela Isley loathes and despises all of humanity, singly and as a species. But apparently she loathes and despises you less than everyone else. Quite a lot less.”
oh to be a silly little clown who's so loved and adored by a plant goddess that when she creates a replica to distract foes and keep her love company, that affection and deep rooted love is already so engrained in her veins that even tho she's not Ivy, she can't help but feel that tug that's more human than she could ever possibly be.
Batman: The Animated Series "Harley & Ivy"
The Batman Adventures Annual #1 "24 Hours"
Artists: Dan Decarlo, Bruce Timm
The Batman Adventures #12
Writers: Kelley Puckett
Pencilers: Mike Parobeck
Inkers: Rick Burchett
Colourists: Rick Taylor
Letterers: Tim Harkins
Editors: Scott Peterson & Darren Vincenzo
Batman: Gotham Adventures #10
Writer: Ty Templeton
Pencils: Rick Burchett
Inks: Terry Beatty
Letters: Tim Harkins
Colors: Lee Loughridge
Editor: Darren Vincenzo
The Batman Adventures (Vol 1) #23
Writers: Kelley Puckett
Pencilers: Mike Parobeck
Inkers: Rick Burchett
Colourists: Rick Taylor
Letterers: Richard Starkings
Editors: Scott Peterson, Darren Vincenzo
Batman: The Animated Series "Harley & Ivy"
The Batman Adventures (Vol 2) #16 "The Flower Girl"
Writers: Ty Templeton
Pencilers: Rick Burchett
Inkers: Terry Beatty
Colourists: Heroic Age
Letterers: Nick J. Napolitano
Editors: Joan Hilty, Harvey Richards
Batman: Gotham Adventures #45
Story: Scott Peterson
Pencils: Tim Levins
Inks: Terry Beatty
Letters: Albert De Guzman
Colorist: Lee Loughridge
Batgirl Adventures
Writers: Paul Dini
Pencilers: Rick Burchett
Inkers: Rick Burchett
Colourists: Rick Taylor
Letterers: Albert DeGuzman
Editors: Scott Peterson, Darren Vincenzo
Batman: The Adventures Continue #15
Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini
Pencilers: Ty Templeton
Inkers: Ty Templeton
Colourists: Monica Kubina
Letterers: Josh Reed
Editors: Andrew Marino
The Batman Adventures (Vol 2) #16
Writers: Ty Templeton
Pencilers: Rick Burchett
Inkers: Terry Beatty
Colourists: Heroic Age
Letterers: Nick J. Napolitano
Editors: Joan Hilty, Harvey Richards
Batman: The Adventures Continue #16
Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini
Pencilers: Ty Templeton
Inkers: Ty Templeton
Colourists: Monica Kubina
Letterers: Josh Reed
Editors: Andrew Marino
Love Is Love (2016)
Writer: Paul Dini
Illustrator: Bill Morrison
Colourist: Robert Stanley
Letterer: Sal Cipriano
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demonic0angel · 1 year
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Sketches for DP x DC ideas that I have (click for clarity)
1) Duke’s been seeing Danny around Gotham for a little while, and he’s always thought that he looked like a miniature star. For the first time, he meets Danny in person and is surprised to see just how cute he is up close.
2) Jason introduces his girlfriend to the family and now they’re trying to figure out why she’s so adaptable and seemingly used to their craziness. In reality, she has a bunch of crazy siblings too….
3) Danny is a creature of the pit. The moment Damian tamed him within the League of Assassins, Danny had stuck to his side and protected him. Unfortunately, none of the Batfamily know about his existence…
4) Jazz saves an injured bird and it’s been with her for quite some time. She’s very fond of it. Now if only Jason could somehow turn back into a human and come back to Gotham to see his dad and maybe ask Jazz Fenton on a date.
5) Danny, weakened and shrunk, tags along with Batman in order to save his strength, knowing that just his presence would be protection. Batman is oblivious to his little passenger. Everyone else is wondering if they’re imagining the Tinker Bell wannabe on his head.
6) Batman expects Danny to fight a Poison Ivy-esque villain, but instead, Danny and his hacker friend seem to be encouraging her??
7) Conner falls in love with an affectionate half-ghost who has more in common with him than he thinks.
8) Stephanie meets a cute boy as her civilian self. Score! Now if only she could figure out why he kind of has a lot of similarities to a certain vigilante she knows…
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chosos-mascara · 1 year
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red, blood
𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - bitten by a stranger, you notice an extreme aversion to food - instead craving one substance above all. moments from taking a life, choso brings you back to normalcy; with only one issue. it's choso's blood that you crave.
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - vampire!choso, (new)vampire!reader, blood drinking, mentions of death, smut, biting, blood, blood again because there's so much blood described in this fic, scratching, strangers to ?, cowgirl, sex in a forest, creampies, cunnilingus, attacking ppl for food lol, instruction.
10.8k words
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You'd heard rumors of the old house on the hill. Some had stated the lot had been vacant for years, others that it had been haunted - though one questionable rumor in particular had sparked interest more than others. When Nobara would voice her theories of vampires hiding within the four tall walls, interesting and ancient beings derived from demons, your blood would run cold and skin prickle with exhilaration. She'd bring her stories forward as if truth; tales of cursed creatures surviving on the blood of humans, told with enough vivid detail to convince you Nobara had experienced said adventures herself. Though, the excitement had fizzled out when bringing the question to your mother, her excuse for the house on the hill much less interesting. Apartments. 
As adulthood had taken over, a mundane life following your mother's footsteps, you'd rarely questioned what had been so intriguing to you as a child. Maybe when driving back into town and passing by the outskirts, the house on the hill would catch your eye, but you'd never lingered upon it for more than a few moments. Caught in thought or attention diverted to the road, what had once been a mystery filled with child-like wonder had now died out. Your imagination had simply matured, like the rest of your dreams. 
As the chief of police's daughter, it had felt natural for you to move into the same profession. Your mother raising you as a single parent, tired days turned longer after she'd been called in only minutes after returning home, promises of vacations that had instead consisted of watching her work at the station, a career within the place you'd spent half of your life within had always been how you'd pictured your life progressing.
Of course, it had been that your first solo dispatch as a qualified officer had been to the woodland outside of town, connecting to the same dingy road the old house had bordered. A concerned resident had made several calls regarding screams within the woods, and you were to take a statement. 
Back slouching against the drivers seat, you took a breath. There had been a racing in your chest, nervousness for your first case to begin; your first public interaction. Perhaps somewhere within the anxiousness had been excitement, though looking through the windshield to the fog ridden forest around you, you weren't so sure. Trees stood tall, dirt path winding until reaching the base of the grassy hill. When peering upward, you could make out a faint outline of the house, a reminder to childhood conversations between yourself and friends. If only life could've remained so full of thrill.  
Once stepping from the ranger, you brushed creases from your uniform and, with a sigh, slammed the door closed. The residence you'd been called to hadn't looked well-kept, ivy taking over decaying brickwork, windows dirty. When approaching, you'd almost tripped over an exposed root from thick bush, standing as yet another reminder this home hadn't been in good shape. Before raising fist to knock, you straightened the badge on your belt, fingers grazing over the new metallic front. As your fist hit the door it had rattled, and you'd been left to notice rot within the bowed wood, oak splintering and stained. The longer you'd stood, the less driven you'd been to stay, an uneasy feeling settling in your gut. 
Though, you hadn't time to bail as the door creaked open, revealing an older gentleman hunched forward, his weight distributed between both handle and cane. His narrow eyes met yours as he questioned your presence, an apprehensive smile spreading over your lips for good measure. "Are you Fujita-san? We received a call from you regarding noise in the neighborhood." The term 'neighborhood' had been used loosely as you stood at the only house within a half-mile radius. "Come in." The cane caused a harsh bang on the hardwood floor as he shuffled backward, stopping sooner than you'd anticipated to leave a gap you'd been barely sure you would fit through. Such a confident smile had faltered when slipping between door and frame as your arm brushed over the cotton sleeve of his bath-robe.
When navigating past him, looking for a clear route to lounge or seating area, regret had pooled in your body. The house was suspiciously sparse with no light sources and evidently had not been lived within. It still begged the question of why you'd been called here, and why such an old and practically immobile man had been here to answer the door. 
 You couldn't turn to question him, words taken before formulated as cold fingers wrapped harshly over your hand, arm brought upward and a sharpness in your wrist. Yelling out in pain, you attempted to pull your limb back to safety, head snapping to lock with red eyes. Between his lips and your flesh crimson blood had flowed, staining blue uniformed shirt. No matter the resistance from yourself, the strength of his grasp wouldn't falter. Eventually, after abrasive kicks and punches, you'd knocked into his knees with a harsh stamp, frail bones cracking as he stumbled from your being. With a tug of your forearm, you broke free, quick footsteps through the door to sprint toward your car. As if graced by God, you started the engine and pulled away. 
The drive home had felt dreamlike. Sweat poured from every inch of skin, hands trembling and breaths heavy. The steering wheel had felt slippery, yet you wouldn't look down, overtaken by fear. When navigating through the surrounding country roads and eventually coming back into the city, you'd reassured yourself the liquid coating your hands had been only sweat caused by adrenaline, nothing more. Though when pulling into your drive, mind hazy as the world around you had lagged behind, you dropped your gaze, a panicked gasp when met with the crimson thickness of blood, a thick and bubbling coating of both the car's interior and your uniform. 
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You woke in bed, bolting upright. Light shone through white curtains, thin cotton barely acting as a barrier from the rays of sun beyond the windows. A sheen of sweat had coated the gap between your skin and the uniform you'd still worn, the start of a fever prickling over your body only moments after waking. Your head ached, a pounding against skull that had at first felt reminiscent of a hangover, though as seconds passed, it had intensified beyond that.
A mere text to explain your absence at work had been all you'd mustered as you crouched over the toilet bowl, intense flurry of vomiting as you feigned the gap between conscious and unconsciousness. The memory of your evening before had felt hazy, only flashes of the attack within the house, with more questions raised than answered. How had you gotten home? A sudden flash of the sickening sight when parking up had flickered into mind, another retch into porcelain. 
Looking to the wrist that had bled so freely before, a bandage had been wrapped around damp skin. You peeled back the woven white to analyse the wound below - only to find undamaged flesh. A distant buzz in your head, visions of red, crimson, thick liquid originating from multiple branches, pooling into one abundant ocean. The inside of the cloth had been tainted by two distinct dots of red, yet no marks had remained over your wrist. 
Though, your internal interrogation to past self had ceased as another wave of nausea hit, this time the sickness dispelled from your body closely resembling the consistency and colour of the blood coursing through your veins. Weakness had overcome you next, collapsing to rest upon cold bathroom tile. Through a shroud of darkness you'd attempted to call for help, yet all energy had left you.
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The headache had lifted. A lack of fatigue, no sweat, no unbearable fever. Had this been a dream? Pushing yourself from the floor, you stood hunch over sink, peering to the mirror hanging at head height. Hair a bird's nest, bags set deep beneath eyes, you'd felt an instinct to shower. A low growling from your stomach while rubbing soap over unclean skin had signaled the second action on your itinerary.
Cereal poured into the bowl, drowning in milk. Something usually enjoyed before work had excited you, eagerly lifting metal spoon to lips and shoveling the first sugary mouthful between your teeth. Only, crunching down on a breakfast favourite had felt agonizing, the usual sweet taste mingling with tones of chocolate now tasting foul, nausea rushing over your body in a cold sweat as you rushed to the kitchen sink. 
Eggs had been the next trial. Fried with salt and pepper dotted across white and yolk, a slice of bread to house a usually adequate food. It had taken only one bite to reach the same effect, heaving into the metal sink. 
Toast, a staple for those suffering from a stomach bug. Only a swipe of butter to prevent the dry grain sticking to the roof of mouth, but not too much as to upset a stomach. Though, perhaps there had been a little too much dairy as you'd vomited once more. An attempt to cleanse your throat with a cool glass of water had resulted in the vacation of your stomach yet again, abs aching as you retched. 
Tears had welled within your eyes as they glossed over bowls of food before you, none of which you'd been able to digest. Another shower, another set of clothes, an hour spent pacing around the kitchen in thought. There had been one simple comfort food you'd yet to try: soup. When ill, that's what most people have, right? 
Emptiness had resided within your stomach as you turned the ignition, hands placed over the wheel - with another confusing installment as you peered down to the interior. Instead of dried blood coating leather, there had been nothing to serve as evidence for the imagery belonging to the evening before.
Pulling away, foot on the gas, you instead tried to focus on what you'd be purchasing at the store. A logical place to start would be canned soup, painkillers, and electrolytes. The fever you'd slowly overcame had taken much from you, so when parking in the lot beside local grocery store you'd reminded yourself to take it easy, to be quick. 
Weak legs carried you to the automatic door, absentmindedly taking a basket to carry on your journey. Though as you'd began to shop, shuffling forward you'd been distracted by a bad scent hanging in the air, a metallic iron piercing through nostrils. Squinting your eyes, you'd attempted to simply concentrate on purchasing the essentials you'd needed, glancing to the first isle. Cracked and aged tile had sat beneath your shoes, bright lights illuminating shelves filled with stock, yet you'd found yourself unable to concentrate on any of the mundane surroundings. 
Basket between weak fingers, you felt uneasy, overwhelming smells, sounds and sensations over skin suddenly heightening, ambient chatter merging into a loud and blaring ringing. With the overstimulating environment your lungs felt squeezed of air, an inability to regulate breaths. Hyperventilating, the metal handle left your grasp, a shift in your insides as the scent that had felt so disgusting only moments prior had now intoxicated you, an all encompassing and primal need to taste - but what exactly, you hadn't been sure. Only when your vision had raised from newly empty hands had you found the source of need.
A younger woman, earbuds within her ears and a furrowed brow as she glanced among the various vegetables shelved before her. As if hunting prey, your line of tight had felt tunneled, heightened senses latched onto her movements. The music blaring into her ears had been tinny and distorted, yet you felt able to make out lyrics even if stood meters away. 
Mouth running dry, a step forward. You ran tongue across teeth, a starling difference within your gums; an ache, canines feeling unfamiliar between lips. Sharp. Within you had been an urge to bite, chew and rip apart thick mounds of flesh, to watch blood pour into the fresh wound, to drink the sweet ambrosia pooling over raw skin. An animal carnage set behind your eyes, the ringing had intensified, throat closing up with shallow breaths, head floating in a haze.
A slow step forward, consumed by untamed yearning for blood, you'd attempted to fight the fearful feeling clouding your mind, a last attempt at humanity as you'd dreaded the action you weren't sure you could take. Surroundings fading away, you'd committed, another step toward her. 
You bumped into a solid mound - a figure standing larger than you; broader. With the lock on your target removed, the predatory hypnosis had lifted, tears blinked back upon registering the measures you'd been about to take, the intention you'd had. If you hadn't been pulled from the fog, the unaware innocent would've fell victim to your teeth sinking into her skin, throat ripping from body.
"Focus on me." A deep reverberance had echoed through your core, a sudden coolness brushing over heated cheeks as he'd laid open palms to burning skin. Through blurred vision, you met eyes to the source of reprieve, deep purple orbs staring back under a furrowed brow, concentration written over his expression as he'd centered himself only on you. There had been a frown set across his lips, beneath a thick black like etched into the middle of his face, curving to the bridge of his nose. Black hair had fallen from his head and framed his profile the upper section partitioned into two loose buns.
"Good girl, that's it. Calm down." The softly spoken voice had ricocheted through your bones once more, a comfort only God himself could have given you, with a desire to obey. Staring into your soul had been a person you hadn't recognized, yet you'd felt your heart had known. Staggered breaths had turned consistent as you'd done as he'd asked, focusing purely on him, gaze locked onto the thick line across his skin.
"We're going to leave." He instructed you, sights dropping to the lips that had formed the words, a small nod as you put your trust into the stranger. "When we start walking, keep your eyes to the floor, and your mouth closed." His hands dropped from your cheeks, leaving skin bare. Only with his touch turning absent had you realized he'd been supporting your head, unexpectedly feeling much heavier without the large embrace.  "Look down, remember?" His reminder had caused you to obey, dropping your head to face the tile, bright overhead lights reflected on the sheen. 
Only when stepping foot outside had you felt yourself relax, fresh air alleviating the hyper stimulation, aiding the unbearable hunger. The sound of birdsong as day turned into evening had soothed overwhelmed ears, muscles relaxing. Once beside an unknown car, the male had halted, gesturing you to climb within the passenger seat. You'd shot him a look of confusion, yet he'd only repeated the action. Uneasiness set in as he opened the door, harsher gaze causing a churning in your stomach.  
You slipped in and he closed the door beside you, walking to the driver's side and slumping into leather. Before questioning you, he let out a sigh, eyes closing and head hitting the headrest behind him. Had you been within a different situation, you'd have admired his profile more, a sharp jawline and pretty hair, tired eyes in need of comfort. 
"Who are you?" He finally broke the silence by asking the first question he'd had when walking by your demonic form, eyes blood red and teeth poking from lip. It had been more than lucky he'd been there to stop you from your urges, and he didn't appreciate the odds. If he hadn't have been in the same store, a massacre would've occurred, an unstoppable force of cursed-being quenching an insatiable thirst. He'd known the loss of control too well, and reaped the consequences. 
Within the car you'd felt at ease from the outside world, from what had felt too fast and jaded to bare. Your lips formed your name, line of sight finally lifting from the dash to console his gaze. Concern had been etched across his features, merging with stress and sympathy. 
"What just happened?" You'd asked, and he'd turned head to glance through the windshield. He scanned over the parking lot, half empty, trees bordering concrete. How couldn't you know about what you were? Had you played dumb to manipulate his support? 
"What do you already know?" His counter-question had confused you, and he'd watched through the corner of his eye as your face contorted to that of uncertainty. "I'll ask this, then - were you bitten?" The words spoken had your eyes widening, lips parting in surprise. You hadn't connected the bite you'd endured to the sudden sickness, but it hadn't been possible he'd passed a disease to you, surely?
Events from those days before had raced through your mind; red eyes, a stinging over your wrist. With a reluctant nod from yourself, fingers ghosting over where the bite had been, you'd added your rejection of this theory. "There's no marks- I don't think he bit me hard enough to pass anything to me." 
He chose to ignore your thought process, a sense of hopelessness to your condition.  "When were you bitten?"  A squirrel had ran across the cement, stopping over a vacant parking space to pick a fallen pine-cone. You watched as your mind raced, a realization that today had felt much further than that evening than you'd thought, how long were you out? What day had it been, now?  "I don't know-" Stuttered words, you searched for the date within your mind, an image of the paperwork, the anxiety of the first solo call-out. "The first. The first of March." 
His expression dropped, jaw opening as he glanced to the digital clock on the dash, red letters stating date, and time.  "At what time?" His tone was quieter as panic set in, fear and sorrow harboring concern.  "I had a call-" Closing your eyes, you pictured the ranger's radio, time on the clock as you'd stepped from the car to forest floor. "I think around three." 
"And you haven't fed?" Disbelief had decorated him; or had it been horror?  "I tried to eat earlier, but I couldn't stomach it." The explanation had him shaking his head, lips pursing and eyes rolling. His hand balled into a fist over his thigh, fabric scrunching to the center as he'd had enough of your logical excuses.  "I'm not talking about that -" He let out a breath, choosing to spit out the fact he'd tried to keep from you. From now, your life would change forever. "Blood. You need blood." The statement had made little sense to you, though. A disapproving scowl shot his way had been ignored through closed lids, rapid thoughts as he'd searched for a fix to the situation. 
"A transfusion? I'm okay, I just had a fever." The brushing off of his concerns had angered him, how had humans been so straight-thinking? A species that he'd lived among, yet fought to understand. "I probably need a vaccination, though. Maybe he did pass something on..." Your voice trailed off in worry. The rational explanations from you had caused uneasiness, another deep exhale as he placed to fingers to temple. 
"Listen," He'd began, pulling your attention to painted nails at the end of pale fingers. "You need to drink, or your body will reject the transformation." Opening his eyes, his hand turned the key, engine humming. "Where do you live?"  "Oh, I can drive, my car's-" Beginning to point toward your own vehicle your words had died off, the dead-pan stare he'd given you instead pushing you to whisper the address with agitated tone.
Alarm bells you were sure should have rung had remained silent as he drove you home, a short journey filled with stillness. One hand over the gearshift, other on the wheel, you'd watched in admiration. The presence from the stranger had been comforting, and when walking to your door, you'd realized how little you wanted him to leave. 
Only when inviting him inside had you asked for his name, a startled drop of expression as a memory had been sparked from childhood. 
"I heard the Kamo family lives there." Nobara leaned forward, marshmallow browning in the fire as she smiled widely, a gap in the top row of teeth. Megumi rolled his eyes, a sigh from parted lips. He'd had one arm crossed over the other, wearing a frown.  "It's just folklore." His attempts to quieten his friend had been redundant as the small girl had a story to tell. When Nobara had her mind set on something, no one could stop her. 
"The Kamos are vampires, my sister told me herself!" The smile turned to scowl as she brought the marshmallow to her face, black charring coating the outside. She'd burned another one.  "What does your sister know about vampires? She's a botanist, not a monster hunter." His pessimism had been ignored as she'd instead turned to you, heartache from the burned sweet forgotten as she grinned to your curious expression. 
"My sister said they've lived in the house on the hill for decades, and they feed off the people in the neighboring houses. That old guy died, didn't you hear? What was his name..." She trailed off in thought, a disapproving sigh from Megumi as he'd added to the story he hadn't wished to be a part of.  "Fujita-san?" The correction had excited Nobara, an enthusiastic nod as she'd taken the queue to continue.  "Yeah, they found him with puncture wounds, but they couldn't do the autopsy because he disappeared from the morgue! My sister said she saw Kamo Choso by the funeral home that night - I think the Kamos took him!"  
She'd watched your guise closely, in need of validation for her story-telling skills, and maturity. You'd glanced to Megumi, his placid countenance revealing little about how he'd felt.  "I'm sure she was just visiting someone, Nobara." 
Now, Choso had stood before you, speaking of drinking, of blood and bites, of information attributed to the folklore an old friend had spoken of. Vampires were beings written into fairy-tales and horror films - things that surely couldn't apply to reality. Had he been insane? You'd watched in silence as he brought his wrist to lips, a crunch and pop of skin pierced, pulling back the wounded appendage to reveal bloodied lips. Crimson coated skin, bubbling at the incision marks. 
"What the fuck-" You'd began to chastise his actions, yet when transferring gaze to gloss over face, you'd been left speechless. His eyes no longer purple, orbs covered in a pitch black, small veins of purple and blue branching from lid to brow and bags beneath. Between his lips, teeth that had resembled more of animal than human. 
The metallic smell had returned. The pulsing within chest and body as your eyes had been drawn away from his and toward the bleeding limb before you, now inches from face. Hand skimming his skin, gaze locked to the dark red, you'd felt transfixed. Hunger and desire had brought you to the point of leaning toward his offering, lips finally locking over the wound, tongue sliding over crimson. 
The thick drink hit your throat, coating you as if honey, soothing a burn you hadn't recognized before now. A hum of pleasure muted to his skin as you took more, a warmth in your stomach, a supple pleasantry you could only imagine had mirrored that of child drinking from mother. Warm, soft, nurturing. 
Time had stilled, but a gentle push of your shoulder had indicated you'd taken enough, breaking you from the trance. Fingers reaching upward, you ghosted the liquid painted over lips and chin, grazing across teeth that hadn't felt much like your own. Choso let out a breath, watching your bewilderment with tired eyes and sincere expression. He'd felt guilt from the twisting in his stomach as you'd breathed heavy sighs of relief, ashamed of the change in his perception of you now you'd taken from him. With his blood over your lips, you'd looked pretty. 
"From now, you'll need blood to survive." He began, looking from you to instead inspect your home, glossing over framed photos in the hall, landing over a small succulent on a shelf. Through one doorway had been a lounge that he'd found himself following you into, taking a seat on the couch. Slumping back, he continued. "I'm not here to tell you what to do, but for the survival of our kind, I recommend drinking from animals. There's plenty of deer in the woodland to pick from, but it should be fresh." 
"Is that what you do?" He'd shifted on the cushions, eyes darting around the new surroundings to avoid your own questioning gaze.  "No. My father sources blood from the local hospital. Animal blood will hinder some ability - though in your case it's a better option." 
Although his flesh had healed, there had been a tightness within your chest when scanning over remnants of dried blood decorating his wrist - bringing back the intimate moment you'd shared.  "Can I... have more?" A sultry request leaving lips before you'd assessed your own questioning, though he'd chalked it down to hunger rather than the chance you had also felt a throb between legs when enjoying his blood. It had been down to the curse that you'd felt this way, after-all.
Choso's eyes felt unreadable, small movements from the tightening of his jaw as he'd hesitated. It hadn't been a good idea to encourage this behavior, yet he'd found his fingers hooking the neck of his shirt, exposing the base of neck curving to shoulder. An invitation for you to drink, a hypnotic pull toward the source of desire. He waited, pale skin exposed, for your teeth to graze him. When your eyes had landed upon the paths of veins beneath epidermis, blue lines both thick and thin, you'd leaned forward. 
Mouth watering, canines elongated and vision tunneling, there had been a magnetism toward the thick flesh and muscle that you'd felt yourself succumb to. He shuddered under the feeling of your teeth piercing sensitive skin, internalizing a moan of pleasure when he felt his blood flow from his vein to your lips. You gulped back the nectar that flowed through him and only him. 
Choso scaled a hand upward, fingers wrapping around the nape your neck and pressing you further into the crevice you'd resided within. Initially, he'd intended to pull you away, yet when a quiet hum of satisfaction had left your lips to vibrate against his skin, there had been a twang within his core; an ache that he couldn't ignore. So, instead of pushing you away, he'd forced you closer, allowing eyes to flutter shut. The near inaudible sounds of suckling had been music to his ears, tightness within his jeans when he'd allowed himself to feel a sensation he'd long since forgotten. Pleasure. 
Blood dribbled from the corner of your mouth when you'd pulled back, watching his expression intently to gauge his emotional state. Should you thank him? 
Your lips parted, his gaze locked over the small dips and creases that had been filled with his blood, coating thickly and cascading over the curve to meet chin. Choso ghosted a thumb over the mess, but chose not to swipe it away. Though, it had been too late to stop the pull you'd felt, a spark of lust ignited to the man you hadn't known but now craved.
Following your heart you'd straddled him, eyes locked when thigh caged thigh. His hands laid to rest over your hips, and as you'd set yourself still, your attention had been brought to the hardness of his crotch. Sighing at the contact, you'd been aware of the arousal pooling between legs, teeth grazing lip. Choso pulled your face to his, a moment taken to stall before you'd finally closed the gap.
When tasting his own blood so poignantly over your lips, mingling with tongue, his hips had bucked upward. He groaned at the sweet metallic nectar he'd known well, a cup over cheek, nails dragging over subtle flesh. Would he taste you, too? 
"Kamo..." Whispered between brisker kisses, you felt his lips move to linger over your cheek, trailing to your neck. The flat of his tongue rolled over skin, a shiver prickling down your spine before his mouth hovered to lobe.  "Can I?" His voice sounded deeper, a resonance of lust and husk of desire woven into the softness. A nod from you is all he'd needed to proceed, eyes overshadowed by darkness, glossy through arousal. 
A sharpness met your flesh, dragging slowly as if to tease, lips grazing the area as his mouth widened. Finally, he punctured skin, tasting your essence for the first time. Groaning, you rolled hips against his, head tilting to land over his shoulder as you shared yourself with him. Warm, lightheaded, you circled against him, a regular friction over the brick in his trousers.  "Feels good." Praises whispered to his ear had Choso yearning for more. 
Only for a moment he'd pulled back, pushing a hand to unbutton jeans and offer relief to the ache, finally free from cloth cage. Your fingers had looped through your own hem, pulling trousers to sit at mid-thigh before rolling them over knee. When exposed, Choso's eyes dropped, hands grasping the fat of your hips to guide you down onto his cock.
The stretch had been euphoric, jaw widening to allow mews to echo against his shoulder. Sinking down, you squeezed your eyes closed, arching of back only pushing you closer.  "More..." His voice was strained as he fought to ground himself, fearing the chance of losing his mind when he'd felt your intoxicating cunt take him in. It had been a long while since he'd allowed a woman to take him, since he'd felt the tightness of fleshy walls embrace him, milking his cock with each jut of hips. Once you'd found a rhythm with shallow breaths complimented by whines, Choso had reattached his lips to your neck, a vibration of chest emitting to yours to appreciate the skin he'd felt drunk against.  
Lapping, swallowing and humming had been the only noses dancing within your ears, an inability to remove your focus from the body beneath you and the flow of your soul intertwining with his. Choso's hand and the back of your head had met once again, guiding you toward the base of his neck. There had no longer been the bloody wound to signify your last bite, but he enticed you to make another, tongue grazing flesh. 
Each mouth occupied by the other's neck, a transfusion of blood through one another's vein. Choso felt himself twitch within your walls, abdomen sucking inward and a grunt as the coil had snapped, nails cutting into you with force as he drove your movements with white ropes shooting inside of you. Ecstasy had washed over the pair of you as he milked himself with your cunt, the taste of your iron oozing into his mouth. 
Once past the haze of his high, he pulled from your neck, sinking back into the sofa cushions behind. Blood stained his shirt, drips from lips to chin as the primal darkness from his eyes faded.  "Your eyes..." Voice raw, rasp tickling throat, you'd attempted to voice your confusion at the changes in appearance when feeding. The blackness had shrouded the entirety of the eye, unlike Fujita's that had been a vibrant shade of red. 
"When you feed, your face reflects the parasite inside. Eyes will change, teeth grow." His explanation had been voiced as he traced circles over the scratches he'd caused.  "I don't understand what's happening to me -" Only beginning to push further, you were stopped by drowsiness. The purple orbs had watched as you slumped forward to his shoulder, arms holding you in place.  "The transition is ending." Choso's words had been the last thing heard as darkness consumed your soul.
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The haze lifted, slowly. 
Sitting upright, your confused gaze straightened out when taking in your surroundings. You'd laid on the couch, blanket over body as you'd looked around the room. There had been little sign of Choso now, but your hoarse voice called for him nonetheless, unsurprised to hear no response. When pushing yourself from firm cushion, you'd questioned the likelihood that last night had been another fever dream - though a blue piece of paper ripped from notebook and black ball-pen beside it had indicated that the evening prior had in fact been reality. Two words scribbled over the blank page had made your stomach flip.
good luck. 
Wandering through your home, you'd debated what to do. Choso had left no point of contact, and had offered little advice in terms of the newly acquired blood-lust. Only one other person had sprung to mind, one childhood friend who had shared a passion for supernatural stories of vampires hiding within the shadows; Nobara. Though, the chances of her holding valuable information had been slim, and even then, the likelihood of her laughing off your questions had been more than likely, she had been your only lead. 
Thumb hovering over call, you'd contemplated if this had in fact been a good idea. But, the more you questioned it, the less you'd felt you'd had to lose - the chance of her knowing something had outweighed the possibility of being made fun of, with much more to gain from the former. 
"Hello?" Her voice echoed through receiver, tone lightly sprinkled in annoyance.  "Nobara." Her name fell from your lips as you brought a nail to lips, biting over it before continuing. "I wanted to ask something, about when we were kids." 
She laughed in irritation. "You disappear off the face of the earth for a week and call me to ask about our childhood?" 
"I'm sorry, I've been sick with a fever," You thought, closing eyes to focus, to think of a better excuse than I got turned into a vampire. "and I spent the time in bed, remembering something."  "I was worried about you, asshole." Her tone was lighter now, though you could picture the scowl you were sure had been etched across her face. "What did you wanna ask?"  "The house, on the hill. When we were kids, you mentioned the Kamos living there." Trying to remain ambiguous, you steered clear of word vampire, weary not to plant a seed of concern within her mind. As a person within your late twenties, supernatural creatures hadn't felt appropriate to bring up without reason. 
"What are you saying, you didn't run into one, did you?" The bitchiness she'd previously displayed had suddenly switched to alertness, a red flag sprung within her mind. "Listen, stay away from Kamos. They're..." She let out a wry breath. "They're not good people."  "Oh, I just- I was just wondering about them, I've never seen one before." You'd hoped she would believe the lie, though her response had only raised more questions. 
"Okay. Was that all?" There was movement on the other side of the line, followed by another woman's voice.  "Yeah." It felt no use to keep pushing. "But, why aren't they good people?"  "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me, okay? Just- stay away from them." She'd hushed the other person, trying to listen for your response.  "Okay. Send my regards to Maki." 
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With no luck from the phone call, you left isolated within your own thoughts. Two days had passed with concerned calls from your mother and colleagues, flowers sent to your door that had been thrown out due to an unbearable scent. There would be a time in which you'd have to return to work, yet you couldn't trust yourself not to attack other beings. Would this be life from now on? 
It had all started with that bite, with the house bordering the forest. Something had happened to you within that moment, that you'd been left unable to understand. Had the teeth that pierced your skin been laced with poison? 
A pounding over door had caused you to grown in annoyance, pushing yourself from the self-loathing thoughts and the safety of bed to shuffle toward the hall. The knocking had continued until you'd opened it, eyes squinting as sun had cast light into what had been the dark home you'd hidden within. Megumi had stood within the day, and without a greeting had shoved past you to enter, hand already in contact with the door above your head to slam it closed behind him. 
"Well, that was rude." Sarcastic comment from your lips, a roll of eyes, you looked to your friend in worry. Though, this fear hadn't been due to his abrupt arrival, but to the blood-lust imbued with your soul. 
"Don't tell Kugisaki." His statement had caught you off guard, opening your mouth to question him, only to be cut off. "They're hunters. The second she finds out, you're dead." 
Perplexed expression, questions swirled through your mind. "How?" Searching for an answer within his eyes, you were offered little in return. Megumi had always done well to mask his true emotion, though even with his efforts, you'd been able to read waves of genuine distress. 
"Yuji." A name you'd known well, the pink haired ball of energy the three of you would hang around with often as children, though when reaching high-school, tragedy had struck and his life had been taken. His funeral had been the first you'd attended, his death the first wave grief you'd endured. 
"What does Yuji have to do with this, Megumi?" 
He looked to the floor, exhaling slowly. 
"Megumi." Tone harsher, you pushed him further. 
"He's Kamo's half brother. They live together." 
He prepared himself for the barrage of hate, understanding your anger stemming from a place of hurt, the trauma of losing a close friend while still so young. You hadn't just mourned over the past, but the future he'd lost. Hours spent wondering if you'd have just paid more attention, or offered to walk him home that evening, he wouldn't have been killed. 
"Yuji's- He's dead, Megumi." His face was placid, eyes on the floor. "Tell me, he's dead, isn't he?" Instead of reassurance, your friend had offered an alternative.  "He was never alive." His hands grasped one another, nail picking at skin.  "Why are you being to cryptic?" Tears welled in your eyes as you pictured Yuji growing without you, without his friends. He'd been around all these years?  "He was cursed by his family, same as Choso. They're different to us, though." "Us?" 
Megumi sighed, eyes closing. "You're not the first Fujita has bitten."  Although surprised, you'd felt some relief in the fact you'd be able to control yourself around Megumi, the realization that the insatiable blood-lust had not been triggered within his presence. It had been obvious he wasn't human. 
"How does this tie into you knowing I'm a vampire?" The final piece of the puzzle.  He sighed at your label, flinching at the childish nature, yet understanding the lack of pragmatic options within this reality. "It's called a cursed-being." Corrected, your cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Kamo came home smelling like you. Did he hurt you?" You felt his gaze scanning over you, though quickly shook your head to dismiss the accusation. 
"But, Choso hasn't fed from the source in decades, why now?" You hadn't seen Megumi so sporadic before, usually mellowed and calm, now on edge. Panicked, and scarred. 
"Choso didn't hurt me. He let me feed from him." You danced around the terminology. Had this been the correct phrasing for something so foreign to you?  "No, he smelled of your blood, he must've taken some." Megumi pushed, leaving you burning up with the memories of his skin on yours, his blood trailing over your lips, the euphoria of sharing yourself with him. "Oh, don't tell me-" He pulled a face, scoffing. "That's disgusting." 
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Walking through woodland, twigs broke beneath your feet. It hadn't taken long for you to find the house once more, the residence haunting your mind, to forever be ingrained within your memory, your dreams. If what Megumi had spoken had been true, Fujita would still be lurking around the surrounding wood, a being to fear. The dangers had scared you, but the need for answers had conquered fear, reasoning with yourself that you'd be dead if not able to find the truth before long. 
Bashing shoulder to door, the  bowing wood splintered, giving way after a second hit. You'd placed a foot over the barrier with reluctance, unwanted memories flooding brain when passing through the doorway. You scanned the interior, glancing over chipped flooring and decaying walls. It had been clear the lot had been vacant, something that should have been a bigger cause for alarm when you'd first approached the house. If it had been possible to turn back time and undo the need to please your mother, you'd prevent yourself from taking the case, from coming here alone. Things could've turned out differently had you valued your safety over appraisal. 
An uncomfortable emptiness had reminded you of the fact you hadn't fed since Choso had offered himself to you, and unless you'd eaten soon, you would likely die. Though, you hadn't been so sure you weren't dead already. A wooden bookshelf had been coming away from peeling walls, scent of decay ripe on your nose when growing closer. Frowning, you examined the books, finger trailing over thick coatings of dust before stopping over one decorated in a thick red cover, golden swirls ornately decorating both edges and spine. Blowing dirt away, you opened the thin, discolored pages, stopping when glossing over a drawing. Black eyes, surrounded by veins. Beneath, the text: pure-blooded eyes. 
Ornately drawn with high attention to detail, the image had closely resembled the eyes of Choso, initiating a tingle across skin upon remembering the deepness searching within your own. Chin dripping in blood, gaze lustful, an evil aura that had enticed you. They'd been vastly different to the irises you'd met in your encounter with Fujita, and held more of a predatory semblance. You scanned the writing further, searching for an explanation to the differing characteristic. 
'Descendants of the original cursed-being are named pure-bloods. A scarce species treated as royalty among most of the cursed, as pure-bloods hold the power of birth among curses. 
If bitten by a feral curse, the victim will fall to a fever, reverting to a feral state unless pure-blood is consumed by the sixth day of infection. 
Pure-blood is a great rarity among cursed-beings; worshiped. Those carrying the pure-blood will as such refrain from blood sharing, a topic deemed taboo among cursed-beings. Cursed blood is to be exchanged during mating ceremonies, an intimacy between betrothed. If un-mated, a cursed-being shall not allow another to drink from them. 
As a result of this, 99.4% of  infection cases end in feral curses.' 
The book closed by shaking hand. A breath you hadn't realized you'd held had finally been dispelled, the aching fullness of your chest withering. If the writing had held truth, Choso's action of blood sharing had been a large gesture, or display of desire. The phrase 'pure-blood' had stuck in the fore-front of mind, a reminder of the aura Choso had radiated, and the control he'd had. When he'd asked you to focus on him, to calm yourself, it had felt so natural to follow the flow of his voice and find solace within his presence - was this the presence of a pure-blood? 
A car engine approaching had pulled you from the stupor you'd allowed yourself to hang within, head snapping upward and turning toward the doorway. You pressed yourself against the wall, eyes closed and focused on listening to the footsteps that had followed the slam of a car door. The sound of radio static had caused concern, a realization that whomever had been approaching the house had likely been law-enforcement, and by that respect, would know your face. When peeking to the hall, you'd watched a beam from flashlight scan the floorboards, booted feet stepping through. 
"Anyone in here?" Low toned voice echoing through the house had your head had darting back, holding breath with back pressed to wall. Looking over your surroundings, you contemplated a better hiding place. Though, you'd became distracted when taking a steady inhale through your nose, an attempt to oxygenate your lungs after holding breath a little too long, your stomach dropped. Blood. 
The stench had been intoxicating, unbearable. Just like the woman in the grocery store, the potent scent had been something you'd felt yourself incapable of ignoring, once dry mouth now salivating, sharpness of teeth and fangs apparent against skin. Thinking back to the store, imagining Choso's face, you tried your best to ignore the pull toward vein as she edged closer, drool falling from mouth as you'd squeezed eyes closed. Through darkness, images of blood had played throughout your mind, an inescapable urge as you pushed yourself from the wall, eyes meeting victim. 
"Stop right there!" The officer had shouted, yet with your enhanced speed she'd been helpless. A wail ricocheted the empty walls of the entry-way as her arm had been twisted by your hand, weapon dropping to clatter to floor. Pushing her toward the wall, you'd lunged toward her neck, but she'd fought back with a knee to stomach and shove of hands. The actions she'd taken had mirrored your own from only a week prior, a painful reminder to the low you now found yourself within. She stumbled backward, helplessly flailing arms as she fought against your increased strength, but falling through the door to forest floor below. Lurching forward, your teeth had finally pierced the thick of her neck, face set against shoulder as she let out a weak cry.
Hunger. Within your core, echoing through your mind and body. Nothing but the desire to eat, and unwillingness to stop now the feast had begun. As you swallowed back blood, a snarl between swallows, you felt hands on your collar to follow with a sharp pull backwards. Your thirst had yet to be quenched before you'd been laying on your back, only feet away from the unconscious body. Heavy breaths, racing thoughts, you felt close to losing yourself. Her blood hadn't satisfied you yet, the curse within you begging to lunge back and drain every remnant. 
But, there was still an aching hole her blood could not fill. Something about her hadn't been fulfilling enough, incomparable to the juices Choso had offered from neck. Such a sweet taste, thick and coating your throat - there had been a clear superiority. Was this the effect of pure-blood? Within you, a switch flickered, a need for more. Would you have to kill a hundred men to search for this taste one more time? 
Through flurry of emotion, your name had been called, red eyes finally lifting from the unknown's bloodied neck to face the figure that had pulled you from her body. 
Choso.
Mouth dropping open, overtaken with need, you pushed yourself from the ground to dart toward him. Hands had hit against hard chest, and through taking him by surprise, you'd succeeded in tackling him. Just as you pressed your palms to his bicep, teeth grazing neck in preparation to taste his lineage once more, his arms had broken free from your vice and flipped to thrash you against leaf covered mud. Choso had found dominance, holding your limbs roughly against the dirt to leave you paralyzed.
"Stop." He'd uttered the words through annoyed countenance, but you continued to try beneath him, baring teeth. "Stop!" Louder now, a hypnotizing pulse pulled you from frenzied state, eyes softening and body halting. You relaxed, chest heaving with consequence to unhinged breaths. Choso's grip loosened as he sat up, ungracefully stumbling from you to instead hurry his attention to the woman you'd left injured. 
Dread coursed through your chest, a wave of nausea filling your stomach as you jolted upward. The meal previously scavenged from an innocent was regurgitated onto the floor, thick crimson falling from your mouth with deep heaves. Tears welled in your eyes as what had been tunnel-vision had lifted, the gravity of an intense situation setting in. It had been difficult to lift your gaze from the bloodied grass below, but you forced yourself to, watching as Choso had a hand placed over the innocent's head, eyes closed.
Surrounding him shone a white aura, chills cascading over your body in waves as you watched the pureness surround him. It felt as if you'd looked into his soul, an angelic song murmured into ears spoken by divine energy. Sound waves tickled your brain, eyes glossing over in awe. His eyes opened, blackness within them a contrast to what had felt to be heavenly divination blessing the unconscious body before him. 
No words had left his lips as he pushed himself upward, no longer kneeling but instead coming toward you. As he moved, the aura lifted, reality set over the world. Colours that had been bleached by transfixed mind had faded back to the normal greens and browns of woodland. He came toward you in anger, balled fists only uncurling to reach at your collar, heavy footsteps dragging you to the other side of mangled brick. Only when behind the house had he spoken, but not before a harsh shove to the brick exterior. Upon impact, a cloud of dust gushed from weak foundation.
"What the fuck was that?" His tone hadn't been the same soft comfort you'd remembered, instead a deep hatred echoing through eardrum. You looked toward him wide eyed, the overpowering demonic presence within the colorless eyes feeding dread to core.  "I lost control, I don't-" Stuttered words as you'd attempted to formulate a sentence, a panic setting over you. It felt hard to speak to a deity that had felt so strong. 
"You're lucky I was here, or you'd have exposed us all." He loosened his grip on your shirt, taking a step rearwards. The stinging from your back had eased as you'd no longer been plush to hard brick, stumbling on feet. You were weak, the blood consumed from intense hunger now vacated from your body. Back to square one. 
"I'm sorry." Your head was bowed, shoulders tense, but Choso could see your expression clearly. Regret, fear. He hadn't needed to use the powers imbued in him to read your thoughts because you displayed them clearer than day. "Is she okay?" The words uttered had caused Choso to sigh, a clear indication your intentions hadn't been from selfishness, but rather lack of control. His anger subsided as he watched you cry over the woman harmed, and felt a pull to aid you in self control. Though he hadn't trained a cursed-being before, he'd understood your confusion - he'd wanted to help. 
"I changed her memories. She's fine." Flashes of the white aura came to mind as you thought back to his palm resting over her head. Had this been the power he'd used? 
"Are you-" Looking to his eyes, you were met with the purple orbs you'd remembered when first meeting, the same eyes you brought to watch when attempting to ease hunger. There was solace in those eyes. Tired, yet soft, relief from the outer world radiating from him as if luring you in. "Are you a pure-blood?"
An exhale of amusement as his gaze dropped down, gliding over your feet. He folded an arm over the other. "You could say that. I'm a descendant of Lilith, the first curse."  "That's why your eyes are black?"  Choso nodded, painted nail grazing over the loose fitted sweater hanging from shoulders. "The Kamo carry Lilith's blood." He paused, finally lifting his sight from the autumn leaves to your apologetic gaze. "How did you know?" 
A finger raised, you pointed to the brick behind you, a glance to broken windows before explaining. "A book, in there. There were drawings, ones of eyes that looked like yours, but-" Sighing, you pushed past anxiousness as you continued. "It said cursed-being don't share blood." Once finished, you refused to look toward him. Instead, you watched the trees surrounding you, tall and looming. Although ivy had  covered the walls of the building beside you, it hadn't kissed the earth beneath or wildlife surrounding, as if protected by mother nature.
"We don't." Choso spoke with an authoritative tone. "But, you would've died if I hadn't, so just be thankful." Defensiveness hadn't been something Choso was used to, nor had scolding others. To be truthful, he hadn't strayed from the few friends he'd had, in a life he'd rather not live. Had saving you truly been a mercy? After-all, he'd not wanted the life gifted to him.
"Thank you." The words from your lips had caused his brooding expression to contort to curiosity. The hairs on his arms prickled as he surveyed your face. 
"I can end it now, if that would be easier for you." Purple orbs watched you through a sympathetic gaze. "Your life left you when you drank from me. The moments that lie ahead are filled with pain, and suffering. This curse is unbreakable, the hunger insatiable." Choso wanted to show mercy, to undo actions he wished he hadn't chosen to take. You could stop now, if you so wished.
"I'll learn." 
Head bobbing in acceptance, his cold chest tightened. Choso had led the same routine for decades, surrounded by the same faces, continuing the facade of humanity while allowing creatures below his status to feed. A new cursed-being drinking from the blood of Lilith had been a rarity in this world - you were the first to pierce his skin. The act of sharing hadn't been something he'd considered before he looked into your helpless expression, the inner fight between hunger and humanity. Though, on remembering the flow of that night, feeling another's fangs within his neck, venom coursing through his own stream and the hypnotizing suckling as you'd fed from him... he felt he couldn't lead the same lift again.
Your stomach growled with emptiness; a noise you'd began to hear more often. A sound that had been an ignition for Choso, twinge in his stomach and anxiety bubbling through a butterfly feeling he hadn't experienced since childhood. "You're hungry." His words had been more statement than question, and you'd shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Feeling exposed, you shied away, yet he had only stepped toward you with hand outstretched. 
"You can drink from me, but this will be the last time." Choso felt a semblance of sorrow from those words, a desire to have you drain his entire being.
Although you'd wanted to decline the offer, to demonstrate a pretense of self-control, your feet moved forward without the consent of your mind. The curse within you ached in it's own right when hungry, mouth watering, lungs empty. Looking to his wrist, you'd approached him through desperation, yet the lust within his being had reminded him that the neck had felt so much better, especially when you'd been wrapped around his pretty cock.
Fallen leaves padded his legs, the tall bark of tree supporting his back and open arms as he gestured you to straddle him. You'd obliged, sitting upon his lap with thighs caging his, much like the night you hadn't wished to forget. A hiss had escaped parted lips when your teeth offered relief to the meat of his shoulder, a groan to compliment the honey oozing from jugular. Lapping over the skin, you sucked the thick, pouring gore, the high returning to kiss your being. Choso's blood made your body warm, head dizzy. If he wouldn't stop you, you'd drink for eternity.
His fingers brushed your neck, moving hair to the side. Pausing meal, you withdrew from his skin to tilt head to the side and welcome his bite. Sharp fangs had grazed flesh before puncturing, hum from lips when you felt your essence flow from you. His tongue dragged the length of your neck, open mouthed kisses running from your jaw. When his teeth dragged across skin, a strained moan had escaped lips, Choso grazing the spot beneath lobe, tongue swiping to cheek. Turning face to his, Choso adamantly pressed his lips to yous. Sloppy, animal-like kisses had been shared between you, teeth clashing and tongues sliding for a taste of the other. Hints of your blood had been coating his lips, and his on yours, arousal pooling.
Choso took your lips between his teeth, a harsh bite to draw blood. You mirrored this action to his own lips, deep and passionate kisses now decorated in iron twang, a mesmerizing flow between two beings. With one hand holding head in place, the other groped your body, sliding over the small of your back to squeeze over ass, humming as his forceful grab had left him wanting more. 
Your back met with the dried mud and forest's debris, Choso's fingers hooking through the waistband of your trousers to pull them aggressively to ankle. His eyes were black, teeth sharp with an intense wraith radiating from his presence. This must have been the aura of Lilith's descendants, that of power, control. Looking to him had felt as if you were looking to a God, though with the curse demonizing him, it had been evident these creatures would be nothing more than false-Gods. Demons. 
Choso ducked to seat his face between your legs, tongue gliding over folds to coax a whine from parted lips. The sudden movement had you to stirring beneath him, legs threatening to close. This had provoked Choso's hands to meet thigh, pressing legs to open wide. He lapped a stripe once more, before circling over the bud he'd craved, whines falling to appraise him. Breaths heavy, you bucked upward, finding a pace that transfixed both you and him. Your moans were captivating and spurred him on to continue, though the ache imprisoned by his trousers wouldn't be ignored much longer. 
 His hums vibrated over your core, back arching from forest floor as the throbbing in your abdomen had built itself much deeper, desperate grinds against the mouth that pleased you.  "C-choso..." His name from your lips had been enchanting, an ethereal goddess charming his very being. Your fingers found their way to lace within black locks, tugging to the base of his skull, pulling him closer. He'd felt unable to breathe as you held him in place, yet continued on in bliss. His short pants had fanned against you, sharp breaths inward forcing him to inhale more of your scent. 
The coil snapped, a wail and cry from lips as he continued to massage your folds with his tongue. Choso lapped at the slippery juices, groaning and swallowing back as much as he'd been able. When your whimpers grew quiet and your high fizzled out, Choso's teeth sunk into the fat of your inner thigh, large hands holding the limb in place as he tasted more of you. 
His cheek pressed to your leg as he peered up at your disheveled state, chest rising and falling at rapid pace. When shifting, the tightness in his pants had grazed the forest floor, hips rolling as a shaking breath left his lips. Choso needed you, now. 
Lining up to the dripping hole he pushed himself in, moaning at the sensation of your walls finally hugging him again, a warmth on cold skin. Since that first encounter, he'd tugged fist over himself, tightening hand in attempts to mimic how your insides had felt, yet he had always been left disappointed. To have you again, now, was as if he'd been blessed. He withdrew his appendage only to push it back in once more, red lip leaking and sensitive as he'd felt overwhelmed in pleasure. 
With arms caging you beneath him, wrists grazing cheek, you tilted head to the side and bit into cartilage, a guttural groan spilling from his chest in excitement. Curses spewed from his lips as he felt his essence transferred to your being, cock twitching. His gaze dropped to watch himself disappear into you, thick base larger than he'd seen before - though he'd been sure this was due to pure arousal and lust. He considered the chance of you being his soulmate with how his body had felt against yours, two flames as one. A white ring around the base had demonstrated your pleasure and reminded him of the mules created with the movement of his mouth to your cunt, and Choso found himself pulling backward to kneel, pummeling cock and using the pad of thumb to massage just above. 
Your back arched from the floor, eyes rolling to display only whites. You'd still been sensitive from the encounter before, reacting immediately to the contact his digit gave to you.   "F-fuck, Choso, I can't-" The sensitivity had you gasping, each roll of hips to yours more intense than the last, a folding within the muscles of your stomach.  "Take it, one more." Uttered quietly the instruction rang in your ears, hands grabbing at the soil yet finding solace in nothing. The moans from your lips had been much louder now, but within the bubble you'd felt yourself within, you felt confident Choso would be the only creature to hear desperate screams. 
Once more, you lost control, blood stained mouth opening wide and muscles tightening, a flood of fluids coating Choso as he coaxed you through your climax. Several 'good girl's muttered inaudibly between thrusts, a squeeze over his cock. He leaned forward, face buried in your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, unable to hold back as he bit into skin for a final time before his own end. 
Your nails dug into the skin of his back beneath the shirt he'd still worn, thick and toned muscle beneath your palms. Dragging fingers down, you'd created eight burning lines from shoulder to hip as your body had been pummeled to the dirt below, though as Choso grunted and groaned, it had clearly encouraged him more. 
His body his the amber leaves, laying with eyes closed, chest heaving. A comfortable silence had remained among nature, only ambiance of breaths and bird song. As one creature had called out, another had mirrored the mellow music from it's own beak, allowing the melody reprise.
"I think," You spoke quietly into the air. "Your brother knows about us." You watched the sky above the canopy, deep blue peeking through twisted branches.  "Yuji? Hm." Choso's mind had been elsewhere, yet your voice had brought him to think of family, and the repercussions of the actions the pair of you'd seemed unable to falter. "Megumi said Yuji had been able to smell my blood when you came home - can you differentiate smells?" A leaf twiddled between fingers.
"Yeah, sometimes. Your scent is stronger than most - it's sweeter. Tastes good, too." The compliment had your cheeks burning, a flutter within your chest.  "Yours is intoxicating." With your praise, it had been Choso's turn to heat up.  "Lilith's descendants taste different. We have the purest form of the curse; we pull others to us like magnets. But, it's all a facade. It's a hunting mechanism, to draw innocents to our clutches, and to manipulate those turned by our kind." The consistent hum of his voice had lulled you.
"Do you dislike your species?" Choso thought for a few moments as he watched the same patch of sky.  "Partially - but it's not our fault. It's Kenjaku's." A fledgling flew from one branch to another. " He experimented on Lilith, he cursed her and her children. We were born of wombs tortured by him, yet we have to live with the consequences from God."  
His childhood had been unpleasant. Memories of torture, pain and suffering had come to fruition, but he'd learned to push them back. Kenjaku had been a name he'd not wanted to speak, but with you, he'd felt inclined to pass on the truth.
"Could you teach me more?" Your request was hushed through fear of rejection. He pondered.  "Hm? About what?"  "How to live like this, the history... everything."  "Why?" He hadn't considered himself an airhead, though he couldn't find himself understanding the request. So much horror had surrounded that of cursed-beings, betrayal, sorrow. He hadn't been able to fathom why you wouldn't accept the naivete and ignorance as a gift.  "This is my life now." Turning to your side, you glanced over the expressionless face beside you. Purple eyes glowed in the dying light of day, pale skin decorated in shadows cast by the trees above. He considered your request, beginning where it had all started.
"We could start with home, I guess." Choso spoke, and you'd pictured the house from your childhood, full of questions and wonder. It felt as if fate had called to you all those years ago, the draw to know what had been awaiting beyond brick and mortar. Though, perhaps the pull had been towards something else; someone. The being beside you had felt like home, after-all. 
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a/n: thank you so much if you read this far ! this fic took me 5 days to write, so i really hope it came out okay :,)
let me know if you guys want a part 2, there's a few ideas in my head honestly but i'm not sure how popular choso is and if people would even like that
but honestly i really put a lot into this so im nervous for what people are gonna say :')
also fun fact, just before writing this i finished evangelion and the Lilith idea is totally based off Lilith in evangelion lol
rbs and comments are really appreciated <3
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tags: @suget @woozzz @goblinbabyy @iwassuna @iisuzuus @osamusriceballz @p-3-4-c-h  @hakkaisgf @athyinherblues @maxi8898 @d0riannn @sanriocandies @akalisuguru @tiredjuniper @sugar-locket @nycvalntyne @anubisisthebomb
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dailycass-cain · 3 months
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As promised many months ago to end this day, here's a 🧵of the insanity Cassandra Cain's "human" body can do due to what David Cain put her through (besides the two obvious ones of body language and various forms of killing he trained her in).
The best issue that showcases that is of course Batgirl Vol. 1 #14 where various government agencies look at the footage Cass got caught filmed in.
The first few pages are literally showcasing how inhuman, but still bordering on human she is due to what David Cain put her through.
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This is always fully covered throughout Batgirl Volume 1 and is usually forgotten when writers and editors tend to have their job. Not saying any names or storylines of any RECENT kind where a WAR broke out in GOTHAM.
is still salty YES
We've seen Cass's speed all the time throughout the Puckett run. To just showcase the prior issue's bullet dodging or her issue of Tim (#18) be child's play (along with her taking several shots up close and dodging each one from a certain corrupt government bastard).
Nah the best example of Cass's true "speed" is in #34 facing the mob boss Ving and his gang.
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Yeah, you're seeing that right she is faster than a freaking bullet. Surprising how SOME seem to forget that in other comics. 🙄
Something even Batgirls remembered (#15) when Cass was playing shogun dodge with Cluemaster who was trying to shoot her with a shotgun.
But what of Cassandra's strength? Just how strong is she really?
#19 where Cass is faced with the obstacle of three-inch quartz preventing her from escaping a gas chamber. So let's examine just how thick three-inch quartz is.
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Well, let's google just that.
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A SEVEN on the hardness scale. Further research says that it can only crack due to "extreme impacts" which wouldn't ya know:
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As for her body itself, Batgirl/Ghost: The Ressurection Machine #3 suggests this about Cass being immune to A LOT of poisons:
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Something Batgirl Vol. 1 "sort of" delves in #50 when both she and Bruce are doused with a new batch of super drug but it turns out they were both immune to it due to them being built differently than normal humans.
This is all the more surprising because a few issues prior to (#46) Cass is doused with a version of it, but you could say given what she "sees" Cass is under A LOT of stress (the building tension with Bruce, Babs breaking up with Dick, Superboy/Black Wind stuff). Plus she does "sort of" snap out of it to beat the bad guys in that issue.
Just like in #51 she avoids the pheromones to Poison Ivy even though she is showing signs of falling under the hormones but snaps out of it due to willpower (something Bruce was almost succumbing to before he fully snapped out of it too).
It really feels like "this anti-poison" ability Cass had was all but forgotten once the series ended. Of course, naturally with a certain "infamous" story ONE YEAR LATER, but also Batman & Robin Eternal as she is affected by Fear Toxin (among other stuff too).
#9 & #59 showcase that David Cain shot Cass regularly so much that she can not even feel it. This could explain also HOW she was eventually able to dodge bullets and become so fast.
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#22 also showcases this as well so this is not something simply just randomly put in. This was something the writers wanted to show the sickening lengths David Cain put Cass through.
Again, #14 brought up Cass's metabolism and how off the charts it was. I think something we just overlooked is that in #26 Cass slept for 20 hours a day for four days (or perhaps longer) straight until she fully recovered from fighting Lady Shiva.
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That's not even going under the amount of food she consumes. This little detail was first showcased in #39 when Cass ate like she was freaking Goku.
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This little bit of detail was brought back in #66 when she ordered THREE burgers (I'm assuming with everything on it) with three sides of fries and a BIG milk.
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Amusingly, this detail was recently brought back in Nightwing #106 & #108 where she FEASTED on who knows how many pancakes.
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Lastly, I feel this bit is worth mentioning as well from #47 with Doctor Lewis Friedman who started the theory on body language that David Cain made a frightening reality with Cass (shame he was never brought up again after this issue).
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All this isn't even counting on the extremely LONG hours of shower time Cass picked up in the Gabrych run that even Willingham's Robin (which went on during this) teased (something again Batgirls kept up on).
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So there you have it. The utter anomaly that is the body of one Cassandra Cain.
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kushnovice · 2 months
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Spinning My World
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader
Synopsis: Reader tends to the avengers wounds constantly and when Tony opens an emotional wound in the reader, Bucky is there to help.
wc: 2.4k
Warnings: my first bucky fic, medical, wounds, tending to wounds, sibling rivalry, mention of dead parents, fluffy love, slow-burn
AN: Female reader, fluffy, lots of mistakes, self indulgent (Pictures are not mine nor are any characters part of this)
What makes the earth go round? to most people it's money, to others it's family. To me, it's love.
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I grew up with Tony Stark, my older brother. He was never that big on affection which was something he picked up from our parents and because of that, Tony and I aren't as close as we once were before our parents died. I spend most of my time making sure the house is always put together and cooking food for Tony and Pepper. I always feel a little guilty as I haven't achieved as much as my older brother and living with him and all of his fancy things just rubs it in. I also spend a lot of time studying. Since we have the money, I am attending an Ivy League school online. Unlike Tony, I don't like robots and technology, I prefer to help people. I am majoring in Medical Science as well as minoring in Psychology, which the amount of work is unbearable.
I sigh as I close one of my textbooks, my notebook, and my laptop, leaving them on the desk in my room. I make my through the long winding halls and into the kitchen, the tiles on the floor leaving my feet cold as I walk. I flick on the light as I walk in and take a deep breath, finally feeling at peace. The kitchen was always my safe space since Tony never cooked for himself, neither did any of the avengers. It was my own tiny world of peace.
I smile softly to myself as I make my way to the sink, I start to wash my hands while humming a song. "Friday, can you play (song name)?" As the song starts playing, I feel more comfortable as I start pulling what I would need from the fridge and the cabinets. I then fill up a pot of water and put it on the stove to boil and preheat the oven before I start separating and seasoning the chicken. I then start to cut up some veggies before checking on the pasta that I am making. After everything is cooking, I take the time to dance in the kitchen, just enjoying the music and how it flows through my body. That was until I heard the door open. I jerk my head to see who it is, only to be stunned by the sight in front of me. There he was, the most beautiful creature this world had ever created, but he was drenched in blood. Without thinking, I walk right up to him and start to examine him from what I can see. "Oh buck, what happened this time?" I ask as I eye him up and down for injuries, feeling better after not finding any serious ones. Bucky sighed deeply, "The mission was hijacked. I'm not the only Injured one." I sigh deeply as I take the food out of the oven and put the veggies and sauce into the pasta. Then, without a second thought, i make my way to the medical clinic, which I pretty much run.
I put my coat on and wash my hands again before putting on gloves. I make my way into the emergency room that we have to see Tony laying on a gurney. I immediately start to cut his shirt and pants off as I examine his body, the deep wounds showing no mercy as they continue to bleed. I sterilize the wound and start stitching him up and taking my time to make sure it's perfect.
After a few hours, I was done with making sure Tony was alright and had checked out all of the other team members. I look at the clock and sigh deeply when I realize that it is close to 1 in the morning. I make my way through the winding hallways again and I stand outside of Buckys room. "Hey Buck, are you awake?" I ask softly knowing his super human hearing can pick up my voice, and sure enough because the door unlocks and slides open revealing that he had just got out of the shower. I blush slightly as i try not to stare at his bare chest, "oh um...sorry I was just coming to give you a quick check up..." I shuffle awkwardly at his door but he nods softly and lets me in his room.
The smell of Axe Body spray and Midsummers Night circle the room. I sit Bucky down as I start to stitch up a few of his wounds. It stays mostly silent, neither of us knowing what to talk about until Bucky speaks up, "aren't you tired?" I furrow my eyebrows, "why would I be tired?" Bucky sighs deeply, "we go on these missions almost daily and you're the only one who gives us medical help, isn't it tiring?" I look up from his stitches to smile softly at Bucky, "No, it's not tiring. If anything, it gives me a purpose and makes me a hero like you guys." I giggle to myself at how corny that sounded before going back to stich bucky up.
After I am done, I make sure I didn't miss any dry blood before I stand up, "make sure you eat dinner, I don't know if the others did yet but you need to eat." I smile at him to which he gives me a small smile at the end of his lips. "I did eat already, it was delicious." I smile at him as I watch him put his shirt back on, "good good, I tried a new recipe today so I'm glad it is good." I smile to myself thinking about how Bucky enjoyed my food. "Did you eat yet?" Bucky asks with a furrowed eyebrow and I'm left shocked, normally i'm the one asking that question. "I was about too, then all of that happened," I smile at Bucky but his facial expressions don't change this time. "You really should eat." I nod my head and start to make my way into the kitchen to see a huge mess of plates and bowls and forks all over the place and all of the food gone. "at least they liked it" I smile to myself as I shrug off my coat and take off my gloves, "Friday, some music please" I speak as I start to pick up the plates and bowls and utensil's and place them in the sink. I then pick up all the trash and wipe down the counter while dancing around the kitchen. I spend a few hours cleaning, until it is spotless before I turn off the music and realize I wasn't alone. As I go to grab my coat and turn off the light, I hear a voice, "Aren't you going to eat?" I whip my head around, looking for where the voice came from until I can see Bucky, just outside the door. "there was no more left, i'm glad everyone enjoyed it." I smile at him but he doesn't smile back, he makes his way into the kitchen and starts grabbing stuff. "woah woah woah what are you doing?" I ask as I watch him start up the stove. "You need to eat. More than any of us." Buckys voice is stern and emotionless but I can tell that he cares. "I'm alright, I'll be up in a few hours to cook breakfast anyways." I look at the time and then at Bucky who then turns to me with furrowed eyes again his eyes studying me and trying to figure me out as he looks me up and down. "Why do you cook for everyone? Why do you go out of your way for everyone? I don't get how that benefits you." I sigh deeply, "I don't do it for me, I do it for you guys. You guys are heros and are saving the world every day. the least I can do is cook you guys a warm meal and make sure you guys don't get too hurt." "But why?" Bucky asks as he cracks open an egg and starts to cook it. "You guys deserve it, you deserve the best." I smile at him softly, watching his movements while I think. "Why do you save the world?" I ask while watching his movements. He seems relaxed and calm "Because if I can help save the world then there's hope to save myself." He speaks in a quiet whisper, "why do you save us? why are you so interested in medicine?" He asks with seriousness, trying to understand me better. "I was never taught self defense so I save the world in the only way I know, medicine." Bucky turns to look at me, "you don't give yourself enough credit, no one does." I can hear how he sighs softly. I let myself smile, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Bucky finished cooking the food and he made two plates, setting one in front of me while he sat across the table from me. He immediately downs his food within seconds leaving me to take awhile to finish my food. When I'm finished eating, I grab our plates and put them in the dishwasher. When i make my way back into the dining room, Bucky is watching me as soon as I enter the room. "What? Is there food on my face?" I jokingly ask, with a smirk on my face as I make my way back to sit down. Bucky snorts softly at my comment, "No, I just don't get how someone could look so pretty after working for so many hours." Buckys voice is soft but his eyes are full of emotion as his hands fold on the table. I feel myself melt under his gaze as my cheeks start to burn, "Oh, uhm...thanks..." I giggle lightly, "You aren't too bad looking for someone who just got stitched up." I reply causing bucky to be taken aback.
"Why are you two up at 2 in the morning?" Tony asks as he walks into the dining room in his black robe that is barely covering his bare chest and his blazers. Tony somehow still has his shades on as well as his slippers on as he sets down some coffee and a sandwich at the table and sits down. "I was just making sure your sister ate after giving everyone medical exams." Bucky replied as he stared blankly at tony as he ate. "Interesting." Tony replied quickly as he started to eat. "I'm glad that your mission didn't go to badly, not many people were injured." I smiled at Tony as I recall the injuries that everyone had got. Tony sighed as he swallowed the food in his mouth, "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?" I roll my eyes at how immature Tony still is after all of these years. "Somebody's cranky." I snort to myself, Tony glares daggers at me. "Somebody needs to shut up." I smile at Tony, now enjoying fucking with him. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel." I smirk at Tony, thinking I got the better up. "Frankly, I don't care. Just like how he never cared about Mom and Dad. You know who killed them right?" Tony asks as he glares between Bucky and I. "If you're insinuating that Bucky killed our parents then fuck you!" I yell in Tony's face, not able to control my anger as I get up and storm off. Bucky looks at Tony as Tony finishes his sandwich, not purposefully glaring but staring deeply at him causing Tony to get uncomfortable and scramble out of the room.
Bucky sighs deeply as he makes his way to my room, thinking of the right words to say as he ends up right outside of my door. "Hey...I know Tony's words really hurt but I'd like to tell you my story, not what you've heard from files but my life the way I lived it, when I had control of my life." Bucky expected no response honestly, who would want to talk to their parents murderer? Surprisingly the door swung open as Bucky looked in at my small trembling figure on the floor, a pang in his heart caused him to lose his breath seeing her in such pain.
I lift my head to meet Buckys soft eyes as he moves to sit on the bed next to me. His voice was kind but also firm as he told me all about his life, from his time in Brooklyn with Steve all the way through Hydra, he spoke about my parents last almost as if to save me the pain. "Your parents...they were a mission I had to carry out while apart of Hydra, or else I would have died as well as them...I wish I never had too..." Bucky sighs deeply as he looks at the ground. "You don't have to be my friend or even be nice to me, but I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt anyone." Bucky softly got up, expecting to be kicked out before he felt my hands wrapped around his human arm. "I want to be your friend. It hurts knowing that you did that to my parents and I don't think that hurt will ever go away, but I do know that it wasn't you, that you didn't do it on your own will. I forgive you, Buck." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around Bucky's human hand, taking his warmth from him as it comforts my shaking body as I am able to relax into my bed and into Bucky, feeling safe and comfortable for once. I don't remember what happened after that other than my eyes forcing themselves closed as Bucky's mechanical arm softly strokes my hair.
I wake up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes causing me to instantly rub my eyes. I stretch with a small groan, wishing to be asleep still as I reach my arms above my head. I hear a rough chuckle beside me and open my eyes to see Bucky smirking down at me, "Morning, Doll." I feel my face go red at the nickname. I roll over to face him in the bed, "I'm sorry that I kept you here all night." I apologize softly as I yawn the sleepy feeling away. He smiled softly down at me, the golden sun reflecting off of his eyes making it look like tigers eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He used his fingers to swoop the stray strands of hair out of my face. "It was the best sleep I have gotten in awhile." He confessed as he pulled me a little closer, his body heat keeping me warm as he smiled down at me cheekily. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy..." I giggle at him softly as I place my hand on his face before leaning in. Bucky closed the gap as he took my lips in his, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in closer as he chuckles into the kiss.
"How else would I make your world spin?"
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dev-mars · 27 days
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LITTLE DETAILS AND PLOT POINTS I FORGOT ABOUT IN SEASON 1
From like episode 65 onwards
• The Kiki and Zane baby pendent plot line is so odd like did that actually do anything that impacts the plot? Like why would Zane have a reason to do that? I know he’s evil and all but he has goal he’s trying to reach and what does Kiki having a werewolf baby have to do with that? I’m probably just forgetting more stuff that happens later in the season to be honest.
• Plus you would think that Garroth would have been more concerned about it seeing as Leona could have potentially been his niece.
• When the group gets lost after they leave Malachi’s castle Laurance suggests that Garroth could cuddle with the horses while him and aph cuddle
• He later also clears away poison ivy for a “romantic camping spot” at Lucinda’s while Aph kills crabs
• Garroth is the one that taught Levin to call Aphmau Mama (I think it would be funny if Levin sort of had a british accent because of Garroth and says some words differently like Mum)
• Garroth actively tries to start pursuing Aphmau after the castle with Malachi (presumably because Laurance spent the whole trip getting there convincing Garroth to tell Aphmau his feelings)
• While they’re traveling Laurance seems to constantly trying to force Garroth to confess his feelings to Aphmau and straight up tells Aph that Garroth has feelings for her at nether portal at the werewolf village
• Garroth tries to confess his feelings at camp at Lucinda’s house but Laurance is listening in and only interrupts when Garroth changes the topic to Brightport
• Laurance comes up with the idea of the phoenix alliance
• For some reason Laurance knows everything and is always explaining stuff to Aphmau like he’s the human equivalent of an lore info dump like he’s the one that forces Garroth to talk about his father (Laurance is the world building of this universe)
• Neither Aphmau or Laurance ever sleep
• Dante stays up a lot too and in the beginning he likes to be alone
• Laurance is always eavesdropping on everyone’s conversations literally he is the nosiest.
• Laurance is also way too chill about knowing Gene and for some reason just never says anything to Dante??
• Also I skipped some episodes because season one is slow and I haven’t finished rewatching season 1 but Dante is really chill about Laurance being a shadow knight despite having his entire life being torn apart by his shadow knight brother
• Laurance tells the shadow knight lady and innkeeper in Pikoro to never stop loving her probably because it helps keep her human and wishes Aphmau would do the same for him.
• Laurance is more of a realist than Garroth is both are good at reading situations but Laurance tends to less optimistic than Garroth is (probably from his experiences in the nether.)
• Laurance is also just very good at reading people and understanding their weaknesses
• Laurance realizes that love is able fight against the shadow knight’s magic and that furthers it as a theme in the story
• Garroth despite having a rivalry with Laurance confides in him often and this gives Laurance an intimate look into Garroth’s thoughts
• Laurance pretends to lean in but there’s actually a ladybug on Aph’s shoulder before just telling her about the Magicks and Witchcraft war
• Garroth goes out of his way to try and to spend time with Aphmau like trying to walk her home.
• Dante asks for a combat doll from Nana and thinks he’s met her somewhere before (I don’t remember if this comes back later in the series) and I feel like it hints at a future romance pretty well as first interaction.
• Garroth catches Aphmau when she falls from the tree and Aphmau is pretty calm about the whole situation despite that being a terrifying thing to happen (plus I feel like Garroth should have been more scared and thankful he caught her time like he nearly lost the woman he’s in love with.)
• Then they play with both Levin and Malachi in the tree house like a little family
• Laurance gives Levin and Malachi a book that Zoey reads to them (in my rewrite it would be the legend/fairy tale of aphmau’s name)
• Lucinda and Nana used to have rival cat cafes! Then they have duel!
• Laurance wears gold armor for couple episodes before getting the armor upgrade
• Garroth removes his helm when Aphmau asks him to immediately where before he refused. He trusts Aphmau and presumably Laurance and Dante completely.
• Garroth designed armor when he was younger probably at guard school that somehow Katelyn got a hold of and turned into armor for the guards along coordinating colors that match their personalities
• Garroth, Dante, and Laurance are all on the jury of 9 waitlist
I’m rewatching season one and it’s so much information to sift through. Also there are millions of other things that I probably forgot. Don’t get me wrong, I love it but after season one Jess went a different direction with the storytelling and that was a great decision.
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taegularities · 2 years
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colour me in | jjk (m) | masterlist
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Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader
➳ genre: fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut
➳ contents & warnings: artist/fuckboy!JK, annoying parents, endearing friends, lots of smut and fluff, misunderstandings; and more chapter specific warnings! | 18+
➳ current word count: 339.8k
➳ status: ongoing
➳ cmi’s mood: still with you and my you by Jungkook | collaborative playlist 🎶
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⁂ CHAPTERS
✩ indicates parts relevant to the story | ❀ indicates fillers/drabbles (can be read as stand alones)
PART I: THE SEEDS
⤞ colour me in (9.8k) ✩ | lowkey by niki
"I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.” “Your what now?”
⤞ cmi: outlines (10.6k) ✩ | slow down by chase atlantic
“If I’m somewhat okay to you, angel... may I kiss you then?”
⤞ cmi: layers (18.4k) ✩ | stay (acoustic) by zedd & alessia cara
“I just want you to know that if I ever put you on a pedestal, it wouldn’t be because of any amount of money you own.”
⤞ cmi: too much (7.2k) ❀ | heavenly by cigarettes after sex
“I think if you wanted to… or tried hard enough, you could break my heart.” “...How?” “I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna find out.”
⤞ cmi: lights (25.2k) ✩ | ruin my life by zara larsson
“You just called me to tell me about the burn?” “Yeah. But I think... also to tell you that I miss you.”
⤞ cmi: the canvas (22.8k) ✩ | with love by christina grimmie
“You’re coloured in now for real, aren’t you?” “Feels more like you’re colouring me in.”
⤞ cmi: not enough (4k) ❀ | this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler
“Those New Year’s Eve parties bore me more than you’d know.” “Why did you come then?” “'Cause... I guess I knew you’d be here.”
PART II: THE GROWING
⤞ cmi: silhouettes (23.7k) ✩ | rumors by sabrina claudio & zayn / kiss me by ed sheeran 
“We've played our parts in this fake thing. But I’m still here, with you. Why?”
⤞ cmi: undying roses (3.3k) ❀ | i can’t fall in love without you by zara larsson
“...You remembered?” “How could I not?”
⤞ cmi: monochrome (21.6k) ✩ | reflections by the neighbourhood
“You didn’t look at me even once, I–” “Because if I do… I’ll break.”
⤞ cmi: letters from the heart (17k) ✩ | jk pov | angels like you by miley cyrus
“And even with Nara, you didn’t behave like this.” “Like what?” “Like… Like you want to go back to how it was.”
⤞ cmi: unhindered (12.2k) ❀ | love on the brain by rihanna
“You came because you want me, and that’s driving you crazy.”
⤞ cmi: blurred (31.7k) ✩ | the only exception by paramore
“I hate that I’ve grown to crave you.”
⤞ cmi: blue (30.4k) ✩ | only love (acoustic) by pvris
“It’s easy to lose someone when you open up. It fucking scares me — and it’s never scared me as much as with you.”
⤞ cmi: seven (25k) ❀ | seven by jungkook
“I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”
⤞ cmi: redraft (25.3k) ✩ | i need u by yaeow
“You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore. And I admire you in every way.”
PART III: THE BLOSSOMING
⤞ cmi: translucent (35.8) ✩ | say you won’t let go by james arthur
“I’m not good with words, baby. And I don’t know how to ever properly verbalise something like this.”
⤞ cmi: blooming (15.6k) ✩ | daylight by taylor swift
“You excite me all the time.”
⤞ cmi: palette (??) ✩ | ?? | next!
??
. . .
and more!
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⁂ BONUS
⤞ ask my character; colour me in edition ⤞ cmi theories 💭 | cmi drabble ideas 🖌 | cmi memes 😁  ⤞ character sheet 🧑🏻 ⤞ cmi timeline (spoilers ahead!!) 🕰  ⤞ cmi couple’s dream apartment, art by yaila 🤍  ⤞ cmi moodboard, made by ivi 🤍  ⤞ cmi audio commentary | commentary post 🎙 
⤞ requested drabbles:
frat party; nara & jungkook jealousy; jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) day out; jungkook x reader jealousy #2 (read cmi5/the canvas first!); jungkook x reader perilla leaf/jealousy #3; jungkook x reader
⤞ FAQ:
When do you update? Randomly! Usually on Fridays around 8PM EST, but I don’t have a schedule for CMI. Whenever a part is done!
How many chapters will CMI have? I haven’t planned out every part yet, so I can’t say for sure. Definitely more than 10, though.
What inspired you to write CMI? Menacing pictures and my lovesick brain 🥲.
What role does Nara play? Jungkook talks about her in the fourth chapter, Lights. More to come later!
What do ‘part I’, ‘part II’ etc. in the masterpost mean? I explained (or tried to explain :D) it here, but the tl;dr version is that the story is divided into 3 arcs. One arc focuses on one main aspect of their relationship (e.g. arc 1 is the beginning; them getting closer).
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✒︎ join the taglist! ♡
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© 2022–24 taegularities. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story properly.
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bbnibini · 4 months
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You, Over the World (Solomon)
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So, I wasn't satisfied with the “snow” entry in the 9days of Solomon challenge and always intended to write another fic in the challenge outside of the continuing narrative I was working on, but life had plans and I ran out of time so I dedicate this oneshot to its wonderful organiser @impish-ivy. I switched out “humanity” for “the world” in the repeating dialogues cause it sounded more dramatic lol but this should have been an entry for ‘humanity’.  If the vibes are familiar, I was thinking a lot about Frieren while writing this. :))
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“Would you choose the world over me?”
He mutters a yes over the verdant foliage, amongst the spring flowers that bloomed over melted snow. He says it again as he traced the petals with his fingers, his memories simmering in the past—your understanding eyes, smiling and unwavering, as if he were waiting for you to say something else. 
He held his breath,
“Would you choose the world over me?”
…and he says yes again under the shade of an umbrella overlooking the horizon. He squints his eyes against the hot air blowing on his face. The unchanging view he once saw with you became unrecognisable. The sky was blue as always; the summer sun, hot and cruel as he buried his feet under the warm sand—he strained his ears to listen to your stories, but even a whisper of them had been lost in time—the weight of his choice carried away by the thrashing waves. The world over you. “The greater good”. The “logical” choice that even you understood that he had to make. He thinks this over and over until the cicadas had stopped crying, and the punishing heat of the sun hid itself away to welcome a cool, moonless sky. 
With nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, he walks towards the ocean again. Aimlessly, almost dragging his feet, until he heard the currents, the salty air welcoming him as his feet touched the seawater. He hated everything about it, but he couldn't get you it off his mind–he should not even care anymore. He never cared. Everything that carried a piece of you is seafoam dissolving in the tides, and your memories were nothing but a ghost haunting him in the night.
“Would you choose the world over me?”
He was at a loss for words as he remembered the question again when a leaf fell on his face, waking him up from an unplanned nap. He was never the earliest riser. Mornings to him were nothing but extra hours of sleep, but he found himself there again despite the absence of…everything. The busy crowds haggling for bargains—cinnamon and nutmeg and the falling leaves. Your hands were on his face, slapping him gently on his cheeks to rouse him from his slumber. Your voice was admonishing yet sweet.
It's gone too, I suppose. 
He thought to himself as he waited for a flea market in the forgotten park, with nothing but the dents on the pavement and fading paint telling him that it was actually there. Years ago, maybe. Relocated somewhere else. Why didn't he bother to know? He did remember a stall there that he frequented with you. A kind stranger told him they have a whole chain of restaurants now; sold to a big company after the original owner’s passing. The orange leaves crunched beneath him as he left to take another train, waiting for hours on the queue to be seated.
He ordered your favourite.
But it didn't taste anything like it. 
The texture was off. Something was wrong with the taste. It was too hot and too cold at the same time. That couldn't be right, so he tried again and ordered his usual but it tasted even weirder: an amalgamation of textures and flavours that barely paid homage to its humble roots. And he wasn't even much of a gourmet. 
He left, letting his eyes linger on the seated crowd: their blissful faces obviously enjoying their meal. He sighs.
“Would you choose the world over me?”
Everything was grey; the orange and yellows and reds were being buried in the cold drafts. He asks you to close the door, only to be reminded that Cocytus Hall was nothing but ruins now; earth and dust. Rotting foundations and leaking ceilings. Seen better days. 
“Why have you chosen the world over me?”
He didn't know. What should he have answered you? The more time passed, the more it felt as if the hours had gotten slower and slower. His youthful face was a painful reminder of an eternity waiting for him. There was an aching that lingered in his chest that never went away. The view from outside was pure white. A light fog formed on the window as he breathed out and drew faces. He had many thoughts, but most were barely comprehensible, mangling into static noise. He stared into the distance. 
It must be a beautiful day. It was warmer than a usual December, and the view from outside was breathtaking. Didn't he just  make a breakthrough in his research? The Demon Prince and his butler are set to arrive in a day to honour his contributions…or something like that. He wasn't sure. It was a feat that his academic peers envied greatly, for he had yet again proven why he was called “The Wise”. 
.
.
.
.
.
Never “The Heartful.” Not even discerning. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. There, he saw you. 
“Cheer up, Solomon!”
A gloved hand that took his own. There was a question lingering in his mind as you walked through the thick snow. 
“Would you let me choose the world over you?”
He couldn't remember your face. He had imagined the scenes in his head so many times, and it only worsened every cold winter he had to spend on his own.
But he had no choice.
Company was all but warm bodies that didn't seep into his soul. They laced fingers with him and whispered sweet words, but he was a phantom whose presence they couldn't even touch. 
He was barely there or anywhere. See-through and paper-thin; deaf to kindness even in the face of sincerity. He remembered caring more, maybe a century ago, when he could still count the numbers of your fading presence with his fingers. But now…
…he saw you walking away again, so he pulled you back into his arms where you fit perfectly.
Where dreams were his only comfort. Where centuries and aeons felt like minutes ago, and the entire world that remained at your loss had any semblance of meaning. He held your face and pressed your lips on his, hoping all of what he couldn't say would reach you, 
“I wish I didn't.”
…even if it's too late.
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puppetmaster13u · 4 days
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For any of your cryptid batfam AUs. We know Batman thinks criminals are superstitious and cowardly. So how superstitious should most Gothamites be? What are some of the superstitions and things they do because of that? And what random BS do the Bat kids do to actively encourage the superstitions because they think it’s funny?
Vibrates in headcanons.
Okay, so, this is less just the criminals of Gotham- a lot of goons are just trying to put food on the table after all- and more of, Gothamites in general. Like they have good reason to be superstitious.
Like everyone already knows about the Court of Owls, if nothing else then from the Rhyme they use to get children to behave. But Gotham? Is Weird with a capital W even in canon. There are literal streets that disappear and only reappear on certain days, areas where on specific days gravity just doesn't work right, several portals to hell have been opened just in Arkham alone, and there's enough curses and cults to smother any other place.
Funnily enough I am actually currently working on a story that focuses a bit more on the superstitions of Gotham lol. Like a lot of this stuff? Not shit you're going to see in the more tourist-esque spots, but those are death traps already.
Now a lot of the habits and myths of Gotham start out as a thing about Survival. It started less with things about the Bats and more about the Rogues and how to survive.
Tiny plant boxes meticulously cared for, after one noticed how plants react when Ivy is around. They line the windows of almost every home despite the smog, and some even pray through them for their Mother to not attack today.
Small scarecrow dolls, made of grass balls and cloth hang from overhangs on roofs with rope like a hangman, a charm in hopes that the one walking the streets will leave them alone. It ends with some claiming that if you rip the head from the body of cloth, the Scarecrow will come for you.
Small candles and lanterns begin to appear on the windowsills of children, their own homemade batsignals. Some say if you're very good, gifts will appear beside it, while others claim that if you're very bad, the Signal will appear and take you away.
Tiny shrines appear on rooftops over the years, meticulously carved statuettes within. It started with one for the Second Robin, and some whisper about how the Red Hood emerged from it, was reborn through their prayers and gifts. Now there are more, offerings ranging from snacks to child's drawings to figures of clay. No one dares take things from it, the last time someone tried... well, let's just say it didn't end well.
The thing is? The Bats don't even have to do much to encourage this, and don't usually even do it on purpose.
Everyone knows what happened to the ones who tried to be a vigilante. They know of the first Batgirl, humanity slowly dripped away the longer she huddled in the Bat's shadow until she was twisting around just like it. Any child who had been making their own costumes, their parents burned it that night, terrified that the Bat would take their children to be its own next. The small child, everyone knew about him, a wee little thing with a camera clutched against his chest. They all saw him run after the Bats despite the protests, saw him run towards the Bat as bodies crumbled before it. They saw him grab its arm with such tiny hands, and the Bat, grieving, stopped. They all saw the Bat whisk him away, and once more whispered to their children to never follow the Bats into the shadows. They know of the girl cloaked in amethyst cloth, who chased after them despite the warnings and pleadings of others. She disappeared, and the faceless thing of chittering laughs that raced the Robin that appeared in her stead... Everyone knows what happens to those who offer themselves to the Bats, knowingly or not.
Robin can mimic voices, their own childish giggles and clicks echoing across the stone slipping into another's words. What is merely a game to them is horrific for anyone wandering the streets in the dark of the night. Some say that it can steal your voice permanently if it so wished.
Everyone in Gotham knows that the Bats aren't human. Oh they might mimic and pretend to be as such, or even had been at some point, but they're confident they aren't. Even if they put on an act outside of Gotham, corpse-like skin gaining hints of color like blood is actually rushing through veins, everyone knows that's what it is. An act.
The Bats themselves? Well, it keeps their civilian identity safe- and the shrines have helped them get children out of bad home lives and to safety, so they're not going to just... not encourage it.
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i find it so interesting to look at sam and dean's respective views of society and people vs monsters, especially in early seasons, and then how that shifts and evolves throughout the show. like when we first meet them dean is very anti establishment whereas sam is literally studying law at an ivy league college. dean is very vocally anti police, and you're like wow for someone who was raised by an authoritarian father and is trying his hardest to please him this guy sure hates authority. he is aware of and cares about issues like racism and classism. but then when it comes to anyone non human he pretty much has no grey area, he sees them all as monsters to be put down. they are Things and they all killed his mum. whereas sam is pretty neutral about people, he doesn't even seem to be aware of systemic inequalities, he has a more individualistic approach to society. but this means he also sees monsters as individuals, just as capable of being good or redeemed.
This has everything to do with the way they grew up and the challenges they faced that affected them the most. dean's biggest challenge was putting food on the table. dean grew up poor and hungry. he was arrested for stealing, he had to use his body to get by, and he had to starve to try and feed sammy. and sam also grew up poor, but he was somewhat shielded from the reality of it. he wasn't the one who had to get food and pay for the extra week in a motel john left them in. his issues were much more personal. because sam knew he was a freak by all standards, he felt impure, and he knew in his heart that the monsters they hunted weren't too different from him. so his hope was in believing that anyone could be saved. anyone could choose to be good. where dean saw a system, with people in power and people who suffered because of them, sam saw grey individuals, and he was drawn in particular to the ones that had something "wrong" with them (max, madison, the kid from bugs, etc)
dean grew up so isolated that he couldn't be individualistic. he could only look at people from afar and that's why he sees the systems. and the violence he faced wasn't targeted at him personally, it was targeted at people like him. poor people, drifters, queer (or queer-looking) people. sam grew up trying to make connections. he made friends, he wanted an education. he tried so hard to belong.
and it's interesting to me that dean ended up being the one who formed the most personal bonds with people who were different, or ostracised, or monsters. see crowley, benny, charlie, claire.
sam tried to build communities (see his s14 arc) but every time he tried to get close to someone it ended in disaster so he ended up keeping his distance. and building a system. throughout the show he takes on leadership roles, and as time progresses he keeps his relationships more and more goal-oriented. whereas dean ends up forming personal bonds with a lot of people, and focusing less on helping oppressed people in general, and more on saving the individuals he cares about. i'm not saying they switched roles, they both kept their original views of the world, but they shifted towards a more confused and confusing moral compass that pointed somewhere in the middle and made it harder for them to understand each other. and ain't that just what growing up is like. dean cared about the whole world as a teen and young adult, but then that became too much to bear, and he had to focus his energy on his circle of loved ones. still caring about the world, but he had individual connections now and had to prioritise them. and sam still saw the potential for redemption and goodness in everyone, but he grew weary of people too, afraid of them or afraid of losing them, and he built walls. tried to help by giving himself missions rather than getting personally and emotionally involved.
psychologically speaking this show is so rich, the characters don't feel one dimensional (despite some of the writers' best efforts), and following their journey for 15 years means we saw them change and evolve, they don't remain the same people they were in season 1, but they keep some of that, and they just grow organically. sometimes i just love spn
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official-darkforest · 13 days
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What’s Jayfeather and Alderheart’s relationship like in your au? I always imagined Jayfeather choosing to tutor one of his siblings after Hollyleaf, Cinderheart, and Lionblaze kind of did and he realizes five days later he was mislead into thinking this would be fun but now he just has a little 13 year old on his hands. But I don’t know how well that translates to another time period
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kinda! i think with how the timelines overlap a lot closer (to make sure that characters are within reasonable age differences between each other) alder and his sister were born earlier and are only just barely younger than ivy/dove, so jay/lion/holly’s childhood overlaps with alder/spark’s a little bit. i’d say with squirrel’s fertility issues (probably PCOS or some other unspecified reproductive disorder) they probably have a pretty significant age difference but not to the same degree as the books where jay was a grown ass adult (theres a 5 year difference between them in canon! that means he wouldve been like fucking 35 or so human yrs LMFAOO) by the time alder was born. maybe 10 yrs at the most. dandelion and juniper were born between that but unfortunately didnt survive long
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as for their relationship, they were pretty okay. jay was probably fresh into college by the time alder got diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. squirrel/bramble probably pressed jay about it but he dismissed them because he was still a student at the time and nowhere near a professional yet. alder idolized jay a lot growing up because he “didn’t let his disability hold him back”. there qas a lot of inspiration porn type of thinking on alder’s end and honestly the rest of the family kinda perpetuated it as well so its not just him. its not intentional either but yknow. at a certain point (and a lot of long conversations and arguments between the two about it) alder stops idolizing him to such an unhealthy degree and doesn’t fall into the ‘if my disabled brother can do xyz then i have 0 excuses’ line of thinking as much as he used to. while alder isnt the biggest fan of jay trying to psychoanalyze him mid-argument, he takes his word into consideration anyways
jay likes to say he thinks alder is irritating (in the younger sibling kind of way) but honestly spark was worse than alder when she was a teenager. jay just interacted with alder more since he was quieter and less overstimulating, especially when in the Deepest Pits Of College Homework Hell. also hes bluffing he really does enjoy alder’s company. he’s hard on him because he wants the younger to succeed, evem if hes a bit mean about it sometimes.
alder eventually becomes a pharmacist instead of a psychologist, finding the work of the former much more attuned to his needs and his likes. he’s still helping people. by the 2010s-2020s, he’s even filled and compounded a few medications jay prescribed to his patients!
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melverie · 5 months
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"The one who reduced me to what I am now is you"
So @impish-ivy asked me to look at the English and Japanese versions of Solomon's and Nightbringer's conversation in 10-A, and there are two things in particular that I'd like to highlight a little (if you want to compare the two versions yourself, I've included the Japanese version, my translation of it and the English version of their entire conversation below the cut)
The first one is about this:
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The Japanese version actually more closely translates to "The one who reduced me to what I am now is you" (aka the title). It's a small difference, but it adds a lot more malice to Solomon's words + it also slightly reframes that agreement of theirs that Solomon was talking about to imo
I still wish NB would focus more on its namesake so we could figure out what the relationship between Sol and NB is and what exactly happened between them but oh well.. We still have 6 lessons to go for this season, so maybe we'll get lucky and they at least drop a few hints for us
Anyway as for the second one:
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"If you had chosen this, it would have been easy". The "this" is what I want to focus on real quick
Given that right before their conversation, Solomon was asked to choose between demons and angels (tho he ultimalety ended up chosing humanity), so it would make sense to assume that that's what Nightbringer is referring to. But since the meaning of "this" was never specified, it could also mean that the actual purpose of the test might have been to see if Solomon would be willing to abandon humanity instead
Considering that Solomon has now repeadetely asked MC to side with humanity, and how there's also been some emphasize on how demons and angels do not see humans as equals, it's definitely possible, at least
Anyway, translations below the cut for anyone that wants to read through them!
This is how I've structured it:
[speaker]
日本語バージョン (Japanese version) [my translation (I tried to stick as close to the original meaning as possible)] English version
???
......困った人だ [...you're a difficult person] ...You always have to be difficult.
???
いや、面倒な人だ、あなたは [No, a troublesome person is what you are] Or perhaps difficult isn't the right word. Troublesome is what you are.
???
もしくは、その両方ですね [Or both] Actually, I suppose both are true.
???
こちらを選んでしまえば、楽なのに [If you had chosen this, it would have been easy] If you'd only chosen our side, it would've made things so much easier.
Solomon
あはは。ご期待に添えなくて悪いね [Ahaha. I'm sorry for not meeting your expectations] Ahaha. Sorry to disappoint you!
Solomon
俺がそうしないことは、君も知ってるだろう? [You knew I wouldn't do that, no?] But you must know I wouldn't do that, right?
Solomon
どうして今さら俺を試すようなことをするんだ? [Why are you testing me now?] So why are you testing me? Shouldn't we be past that point?
Solomon
俺の信念が揺らいでるようにでも見えた? [Did it seem like my believes were wavering?] Did you think I might be questioning my convictions?
???
揺らいでいる、とは思っていません [I don't think it's wavering] Not at the moment, no.
???
ですがー [But...] However...
???
あの方......。 可愛い弟子のあの方が巻き込まれても [That person... Even if that cute apprentice should get involved...] What if your adorable apprentice were to get caught up in all of this?
???
あなたが揺らぐことはないのでしょうか [...would you never waver?] Perhaps then you might reconsider your convictions?
Solomon
それは脅しかい? 悪魔みたいなことを言うんだな [Is that a threat? You sound like a demon...] Is that a threat? You know, you sound just like a demon...
Solomon
でも大丈夫。MCも俺と同じ気持ちだからね [But it's alright. MC feels the same way as me, after all] Still, it doesn't change anything. Because MC feels the same way I do.
???
あの方の本当に望むことを、自分なら 理解していると?過信しすぎでは? [Do you think you can understand what that person really wants? Are you overconfident?] You think you know what it is your apprentice truly wants? That you can see inside the heart of another? That doesn't strike you as overconfident?
Solomon
そうでもないよ [Not really] Not at all.
???
その傲慢なほどの自信は いったいどこから満ちてくるのか...... [Where on earth is that arrogant self-confidence coming from...] You have confidence to the point of arrogance. Where exactly does it come from, I wonder...
???
あなたこそ、悪魔のような振る舞いを しているのでは? [Aren't you the one acting like a demon?] Have you considered that you're behaving quite a bit like a demon yourself?
Solomon
悪魔のような振る舞いかあ。 でも考えてみたら、仕方ないことじゃないか? [I'm acting like a demon? But if you try thinking about it, isn't it inevitable?] You think I'm behaving like a demon... Well, if you think about it, that's to be expected, right?
Solomon
だってさ [Because] I mean...
Solomon
今の俺を減らしたのは、君なんだから [The one who reduced me to what I am now is you] You're the one who made me who I am today, after all.
Solomon
そうだろう? 「ナイトブリンガー」 [Right? "Nightbringer"] Isn't that right, Nightbringer...?
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