#for these feelings i mean. i am free to be cringe and delusional and the way i am here

[pixelkittyz]

im tired

#god i dont even know where to vent cause twitter just isnt it for me #no one even follows me on here and if anyone does i doubt they even remember who i am #im just having a lot of mentally ill moments and it fucking sucks. i cant talk to anyone about it #like its bad enough that I'm bipolar but I'm certain of symptoms/a presence of something else. so i think tumblr is a perfect place #for these feelings i mean. i am free to be cringe and delusional and the way i am here #eventually once i get properly assessed I'll stop hiding in the tags and just post properly #like a normal person #what a bloke! #pls ignore this and dont interact if you see this

[akashis-waifu]

An Eternity of Mind Games with You (Aizen Sousuke x Reader)

Canon-divergence one-shot, set years after TBYW. Female reader is the Soul King, so is Aizen if you squint hard enough. Your first name is "Hana" for plot-purposes.

Tags: Domestic!Aizen with usual sass, wholesome, fluff, cringe but we embrace it. Immortal x immortal, enemies struggling with new established co-dependency. This might seem slightly out of character, but we've got Kyoka Suigetsu to blame. Contains spoilers on the ending of TBYW and CFYOW!

"Oh please, dear wife."

You raise an eyebrow at your self-proclaimed husband. The two of you have only been together for a decade as Lord and retainer — co-rulers, if you squint hard enough — after Aizen Sousuke tricked you into absorbing the Hougyoku, which apparently had long merged with his spirit. In effect, the man became a part of the Soul King and is now able to use your authority, as long as you agree to it.

In return, you get to wield one of the greatest Zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu. You see it as an absolute win, the Central 46 doesn't.

As to why Aizen insists that you two are husband and wife, he argues that "A system where a man and a woman govern together is called monarchy. And it goes without saying that a King and a Queen are married." He seems to have put the cart before the horse, a very uncharacteristic blunder for the renowned war criminal. You simply guess that the fusion might have caused him brain damage.

"I swear, I haven't used Kyoka Suigetsu for a long time. There is literally no reason for you to act delusional."

He feigns to be hurt at your words. "You are the king, I am the queen. How can we not be married?"

"It's crazy how you easily admit to being the queen now." During your ascension, you had to repeatedly remind him that the Soul King was you. If he insisted on his god-complex-driven monarchy delusion, the Queen would be him.

Aizen shrugs. "As the human saying goes, let me cook."

Chills run down your spine. Something is wrong. "Maybe I'm the delusional one."

"Took you a long time to realize."

A shattering sound awakens you. After adjusting to reality, you glare at Aizen Sousuke who has successfully swiped the two Heavenly Tickets out of your hand.

"Please stop using Kyoka Suigetsu on me."

He chuckles mockingly. "You have a funny mind, I can't help it."

You try to take the tickets from him. Those are your mode of transportation to Seireitei! "It's Rukia's inauguration today. We really need to go!"

"You can go by yourself."

"I can't leave you here alone!"

Aizen smiles. He knows that it is a matter of distrust — that he might destroy the Soul Palace in your absence — but teases you nonetheless. "What a caring wife you are."

"Is the illusion not over yet?"

"My apologies. I'm simply not in the mood to head to Seireitei today," he explains briefly, before turning around. "Feel free to go without me."

You watch with curious eyes as Aizen leaves the room. He has undoubtedly mellowed out compared to 10 years ago. Memories flash through your mind.

At the end of the war, you were supposed to absorb Yhwach, become the Soul King, and be sacrificed as the new linchpin of the Three Realms. If Aizen hadn't given you the Hougyoku that granted your divinity as the Soul King, you wouldn't have gained the authority to banish Hyosube Ichibe.

If it weren't for Aizen, you would've been mutilated into a thoughtless doll. You may not express it, but you are eternally grateful to him.

Standing at the edge of the Soul Palace, you stare at the boundless sky below. It is almost time for your departure.

"He tells me to go by myself, but he knows I hate jumping all the way down to Soul Society. He could have at least returned my ticket to me." You sigh and jump anyway.

Upon arriving at Seireitei, you use Kyoka Suigetsu to disguise yourself as a white butterfly. You dispel the Shikai after reaching the 13th Division.

"Hana-san! Ah, I mean, Soul King!" Kuchiki Rukia hastily corrects herself. She then invites you to a celebratory dinner and you spend some time with the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.

The party ends late. Rukia offers the Kuchiki residence for you to spend the night in, but you decline, worried that someone might wreak havoc in your palace if left alone for too long.

She suggests to escort you to Shiba Kuukaku's hideout, aware that you would need the cannon to return to the Soul Palace. Still, you refuse, "No no! No need. It's already late, Rukia, go to sleep. I usually disguise myself as a harmless butterfly when I go around Seireitei to avoid unnecessary attention. Don't worry!"

On the way to the hideout, you feel that you're being followed. You instantly regret declining her offer.

When Aizen finds you in the middle of Seireitei, you are already bleeding from a large cut on your torso. He rushes to your side and activates the Hougyoku to accelerate your healing. As if to laud his effort, you soon regain consciousness.

"Aizen...?" you ask, vision still blurry. "What are you doing here? I... I thought you didn't want to go."

"You're not adept at using Kyoka Suigetsu yet. An incident like this is bound to happen."

"I see," you chuckle weakly. "No wonder she saw through my disguise."

His grip on your shoulder tightens. "Who was it?"

"Candace."

"Candace?"

You cough out blood multiple times and reach out to caress his cheek, as if ready to utter your last words — which would be if he doesn't take the joke lightly.

"Can deez nuts."

Aizen deadpans. A shattering sound takes him out of his reverie, and he looks over his shoulder to see you fiddling with the tickets that he had previously hidden in his sleeves.

Of course, the whole farce was an illusion. He should've known since the Hougyoku grants instant regeneration. He sighs in annoyance. "I'd like to take the Hougyoku back. You're too insufferable."

"Is that a request for divorce?"

He smirks. "So, you acknowledge our marriage."

"Hell no!" You click your tongue, frustrated that he always has the perfect comebacks. "Can't you act normal for once? What happened to Aizen Sousuke, the war criminal?"

"You prefer that version of me?" He pushes his hair back. You aren't used to that sight since he always has his hair down when you're alone together.

You visibly cringe. "Stop doing that. What would you do if people recognized you?"

"We're using Kyoka Suigetsu. From their perspective, we are nothing but butterflies attracted to beautiful flowers basking in the moonlight."

You frown at him. "We're literally walking on concrete. Not a single flower can be found here."

"There is."

Aizen raises your chin, staring directly into your eyes. "Hana."

Too stunned to speak, you allow yourself a moment to think.

You finally understand why Aizen was so popular when he was still with the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. His strength, intellect, charisma — the sultry voice and handsome features that you will never admit to his face — he used everything at his disposal to manipulate everyone.

It will never work on you, though. Not today, nor in a million years.

You are good, he is evil. You are yang, he is yin.

You are pure, he is corrupted.

The Soul King can never let Aizen Sousuke dye Her in his color, for that would mean the end of the Three Realms.

You give him a thin smile. "Would you like the Hougyoku back? I can hand it to you now."

"Oh, you jest." Aizen feels the sudden shift in mood and lets you go. That's enough teasing, he muses to himself.

With an eternity to look forward to, he doesn't mind biding his time. You are the Soul King, the strongest, most benevolent, and most dangerous being in the Three Realms. It goes without saying that you are the greatest challenge he will ever face. It could take hundreds or thousands of years — even millions — but he knows that you will submit to him one day.

It's not a matter of if, but when.

You extend a hand at him. "Let's go home, Sousuke."

But, he has to make sure you don't win him over first.

#bleach #aizen sousuke #aizen x reader #bleach imagines #bleach tybw #also posted this in Ao3 #I WAS POSSESSED BY KYOKA SUIGETSU WHEN I WROTE THIS I APOLOGIZE #i'm also sorry for the person i'd become when they animate “welcome to my soul society” in TYBW #AWOO AWOOOOO #it's bleach #aizen sosuke

[baewriites]

Chemistry [ Kuroo x fem!reader ]

"WHAT?!" you exclaimed in disbelief when you heard that your school, Nekoma lost against Fukurodani in the prelims, more specifically about your crush, Kuroo Tetsuro losing. Okay they still had a chance of making it to the nationals and...... They did it.

Rainy day, noise of chatter surrounding you and your best friend, Yuki who was mindlessly rambling. Your eyes were searching for a specific person, Kuroo and that's when he entered with his classic smug smile.

He was pretty popular in your school, owing to his somewhat good looks, good grades and since he was the captain of the volleyball team. There was a common perception that he was a fuckboy but in reality he was pretty much a dork who liked to play with balls.

In your peripheral vision, You watched him walk towards you and occupy the seat in front of yours. Did you two know each other? Yes. Did you two talk? No, not really. But there was this slight tension whenever you two made eye contact. Not to mention, both of you made a lot of eye contact.

It's not like you were afraid of talking to him or anything, it's just that...... you don't want to. Who likes socializing anyways? But your polar opposite bestie, Yuki was bent upon on making you two talk and she did succeed at times, but only small talks. But this time, this time she bribed with the latest Jujutsu Kaisen Manga. There was no way in hell you could refuse that offer.

Okay as per the plan you two whispered which probably half of the class heard was that you would go up to him during recess and ask him to teach you chemistry, conveniently ignoring that you were a bigger nerd than him in chem. Anyways simple right? You took a breath and saw Kuroo talking to Kenma, giggling like a teenage girl. Which idiot did you even choose to have a crush on? You sigh and walk towards him and as you were about to ask him for the favour,he interrupted you and said, "Can we study chem together? I have missed out on the new lessons due to the volleyball matches."

"S-sure" the way you mentally cringed and wished to turn into a ball of nothingness and cease to exist when you stuttered in front of him. He said again, "It's okay if you are busy" "No it's fine, what about Friday? After school?" "Sure, I am free"

It was finally D-day, Friday (as per how Yuki worded it). Him and you were sitting poles apart, sparing no glances. Everyone's energy was pretty much non existent as it was the last period. But Yuki? She was rambling and rambling about the delusional things she think would happen today. Although you secretly liked her rambling and delusionships, you still felt shy to admit that but finally you got a little annoyed when she started to give you sex education. Which motherfucker thinks you two will fuck at the first meet already?

The never ending class finally ended. Yuki cheered and left and you were walking alone to the stairs. Suddenly you feel a towering presence and see him. "Could we study at my place? " "Sure", you replied, a little startled. Surprisingly the session went well. Both decided to meet for more lessons.

And a few lessons afterwards, you two had gotten closer. It was pretty interesting to study with him. He is genuinely good at chemistry and is really smart in academics. Plus point that he is helpful smart instead of mean smart. But his humour....... no way it was that bad. He says the most randomest stuff.

Like one time, you two were solving past test papers, pretty quiet, just the shuffling of the pages. His pen stops and he looks at you and with a quiet voice he says, " Y/N.... you know why do I only say bad chemistry jokes?" "Why?" "What do I do? All the good ones ARGON" he said and proceeded to laugh as if it was the funniest thing.

One thing you always wondered about him was his hair, his rooster hair. You always had the urge to pet it. And one time your impulsive thoughts won and you just out of nowhere pet it, not noticing the way his entire face went red.

As for Kuroo, he was a total fool in matters of girl which led to him consulting another genius, Yaku. Kuroo whined, "YAKUNN WHAT DO I DO?" and Yaku replied, almost unbothered, "Confess to her. What else should you do?" Kuroo got a little pissed and yelled, "IS IT THAT EASY? YOU SURELY LACK DOCOSAHEXAENOIC ACID" Yaku yelled back and said, "HUH! SHUT UP YOU ASTAXANTHIN" Both of them kept on screaming until Fukunaga spilled water on them. Then Kuroo decided to ask Nobuyuki instead, who was actually mature. He pretty much praised you saying, "You should confess to her before it's too late. She is a good girl and anyone may take her before you do. Don't delay. And you can play the guitar so just sing her a love song" And our captain, Kuroo chose the most generic song, Perfect by Ed Sheeran but it was his feelings that mattered and his feelings were genuine and strong. And the plan was that he would confess to you at the end of your study session this weekend.

The day came and everything went normally, as it goes everytime. To be honest, you were content with the bond you two have now and didn't want more than that. You were focused when you noticed your phone vibrating from a phone call, It was Yuki and she seemed in an emergency, You quickly arrange your belongings and was about to go, when you heard Kuroo call you from behind. You turn around to see visible panic and hesitation on his face, probably from his plans being ruined and he just blurted out, "You- You know one thing, after studying chemistry with you, I realized that we have a lot of chemistry." And in a hurry you gave him a slight bow with a soft smile, your brain registering it as one of his stupid jokes. And after you left, he was pretty much rethinking his life choices.

What happened was that Yuki had found a stray injured cat and she took it to the vet but she had no money so she sent you to her house to collect money. After the vet you two went to her house and were chilling. Suddenly you remembered what Kuroo told you and you told her.

"YOU IDIOT!" Yuki yelled. "what?" "HE PROPOSED TO YOU!" "When?" "HE LITERALLY TOLD YOU THAT YOU GUYS HAD CHEMISTRY. ARE YOU DUMB OR WHAT? OH GOD" To sum it up, he indirectly asked you out and you just did... nothing. Which idiot did Kuroo even choose to have a crush on?

The following day, you two didn't even look at each other. And Yuki being Yuki was being all menacing. She had to be so much involved and unable to take the obvious awkwardness between you two and the taunts of Yuki, you just decide to ask Kuroo out. What could possibly go wrong?

It was departure time. Everyone was talking on the school ground. He was a little far away from you, walking with his teammates. It's now or never. You approached him and tapped on his shoulder. Then you said, "Kuroo wanna go on a date with me?" You said it really fast, not taking a breath. And the gasp you heard from him was a harm to not only yours but everyone near's eardrums. Everyone was staring at you two . Finally words come out of his mouth,"S-sure" the way he mentally cringed and wished to turn into a ball of nothingness and cease to exist when he stuttered in front of you. Yousaid again, "It's okay if you are busy" "No it's fine, what about Friday? After school?" "Sure, I am free"

A happy ending hehe :)

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu x reader #haikyuu crack #haikyuu fluff

[jellyclogs]

Marco x reader Beach day

this is a fic i meant to post a little while ago but my inter net said no =(

Marco usually never regrets eating his devil fruit. He knows it has saved his ass so many times. He was sure he'd probably be dead by now without it but right now he hated it. He watched as his lovely wife swam haphazardly. He wanted nothing more than to dive in and join her.

He knew if he called out for her she'd come to him and abandon her swimming but he wouldn't do that to her. He knew she loved swimming, sometimes he wondered if she was part, Fishman. She was graceful in the water like it was her true home. He loved watching her but it hurt that he couldn't join her.

"Just put on some floaties and get out there already!" Ace grunted, he was tired of watching Marco pout. Honestly, the damned bird brain pissed him off with his love-sick puppy act.

"I'm not gonna ruin her fun," Marco sighed, " she would be too worried to enjoy herself if I did that." (Y/n) was a good swimmer but Marco doubted she would be able to tread water carrying him. He knew he was a tall man and he wasn't skinny, he cringed at the thought of her drowning trying to save him.

"Well, I think I'm going to join her." Thatch laughed, he would never even try to steal (y/n) from Marco but he wouldn't lie, he liked rubbing it in that he could swim with her.

"You are such a dick," Ace giggled like a teen girl.

"Don't even think about being touchy with her," Marco growled.

"What you gonna do swim out and hit me if I am?" Thatch jabbed, smirking at Marco's glare.

"Naw I don't think I'd have to," Marco huffed, " I think she'd punch you square in your jaw if you tried."

"He also could fly out and kick you," Ace added, "can't hold your breath forever man."

"Dang Ace, whose side are you on?" Thatch threw his arms up in surrender.

Ace gave the brunette a deadpan state for a moment, " (y/n)'s side."

"Yeah, that's probably smarter." Thatch admitted, "But what if she wants to get touchy Feely with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Are you delusional?" Marco questioned, "Look rub it in that you can swim all you want but we all know (y/n). She doesn't do touchy Feely unless you're me, she is practically a cat."

"Guess that means your pussy whipped in more ways than one." Ace cackled.

"Oh cram it, you're just jealous I get pussy and you don't." Marco rolled his eyes.

"Well i'm Seriously Gonna go join her, it's way too hot out." Thatch groaned, leaving the two devil fruit users behind. The water was gonna feel great.

Thatch quickly waded out into the water, humming in relief at the cool water. He didn't swim like (y/n) but her enthusiasm for it was contagious. He watched as she dove under the water and did few rolls before coming back up for air. He couldn't help but smile, when she was in the water she was like an otter. He shook his head before diving under and swimming over to her.

"Is everyone ok hanging on the beach?" (Y/n) asked with her pretty smile.

"You mean is Marco still pouting?" Thatch corrected, "Oh,, and yes he is, he is like a love-sick puppy right now."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, " Don't be dramatic," she slashed Thatch, " he's a grown man he can handle me swimming about for an hour or two."

"You know I don't blame him," Thatch smiled, " if I were him I'd hate not being able to join in on something my wife loved to do much. Siriusly watching you Swim is..." Thatch tried to think of the right word before landing on, " mesmerizing, you just are so at peace out here."

"It would be better with him," she smiled, " but I just can't help how at home I feel in the water. It just feels right."

"OK I have to ask, and feel free to punch me for this but are you sure you're not part Fishman? Or like an otter mink or something?" Thatch braced himself to be hit.

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes splashing Thatch before heading for the beach. It was a running gag on the ship that she wasn't fully human. It didn't bother her, but sometimes it got on her nerves. As far as she knew she was fully human but who really knew?

She slowly made her way onto the shore. She felt wobbly from the rocking of the waves. She took care to take measured steps so she wouldn't fall on her ass. Her pace was slow but steady letting her equilibrium readjust to solid ground.

Marco smiled seeing his wife coming back to shore. The water dripped off of her and made her skin shimmer. Whenever she emerged from the water he always thought of her as a beautiful water nymph, gracing the land with her presents. He knew it was far too grand of an image but he couldn't help it. He watched her with a content smile.

"Can you toss me a towel?" she smiled as soon as her feet were entirely on dry sand. She still felt slightly wobbly but that would pass quickly.

Marco grabbed one of the folded towels beside him and tossed it to her, "you hungry? Been out there for a while." Marco asked as he got to his feet.

"I could use a snack," she toweled herself off ruffly drying her hair before finding a low-hanging branch to drape it over, " but I came back out to be with you. I was getting lonely without ya," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Even with thatch out there?" Marco asked.

"Well if you want me to I can go swim with him but id rather sit here with you." (y/n) smirked watching Marco closely.

"Well no I think id rather have you hear." Marco hummed wrapping his arms around his wife from behind and pulling her into his chest, "Don't you have a book you're working through? Pretty hard to read if you're out swimming."

"Yeah your right about that," (y/n) hummed back hugging his arms close to her. "Bet id figure out a way though."

"Yeah but how much more comfortable would you be if you were sitting in my lap rather than struggling not to ruin your book." Marco swayed gently nuzzling his stubble into the crook of her neck.

"Well since you insist, I guess ill sit in your lap and enjoy reading my book." (y/n) spun out of Marco's arms, "but why don't we find some shade and grab some food?"

"I think that's a great idea," Marco kissed (y/n)'s cheek before pecking her lips. "In fact probably one of the best ideas I've heard all day."

#fanfiction #one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #one piece marco #Marco the Phoenix #Marco the pineapple #marco x reader #marco x y/n #marco x you #marco fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n

[malka-lisitsa]

🖊 — any tattoos? 📇 — does your url have a meaning? if so, what is it? 😀 — are there any rpc mutuals that you’ve met irl before? 💯 — share three random facts about yourself that your mutuals may not know about you. ❤️ — what are some of your best qualities?💔 — what are some of your worst qualities?

munday asks!

Jesus this is a lot of questions...

Tats- Yes I have one on my forearm that reads "Alive in spite of me" in Hayley William's handwriting. My next one will be "If we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?" Hopefully in Nina's handwriting eventually.

URL- Yes it means "Little Fox" in bulgarian. I was going to use a voice line but voice line URLS are so cringe and 2k12 so I decided to go with something more interesting and less predictable.

Have I met Moots- Yes.

Three random facts- I wasn't born in America, I am extremely anti-G*n, and I share a birth name with one of my muses.

Best qualities- Im charismatic, resourceful, loyal to the people who deserve it, witty, intelligent, highly out spoken, opinionated, determined, super fucking funny, and passionate.

Worst qualities- Let me look up the past anons real fast... ok so. I'm manipulative, a liar, delusional, a cult leader, I apparently rally my followers, attention whore, and also the IRL Katherine Pierce (not a compliment)

But to add to that with my own personal opinions, I hold grudges, I am 100% NOT a try to be friends with everyone I will pick a side and quickly if you hurt someone I love, I am highly competitive and it absolutely does cause problems, Just about every symptom of my BPD, Not being shy, keeping everyone at arms length, I am good at scheming, I have learned behaviors I needed to survive that have become obsolete but are so second nature I forget I don't need them, and last but not least- I have trouble letting go of people who have let go of me. Please feel free to tell me anything I missed.

#Answered #Anonymous #the one and only... sort of: ooc

[veldcomics]

Journal #1

Someone said that they were ashamed of being apart of the queer community, that they hated the flamboyant and extravagant way today’s queers express themselves. They said “real” trans people were quiet and discreet about who they were, and that trans wasn’t a personality trait for them.

This makes me upset, knowing that someone sees me being proud of who I am as shameful. That someone sees my over the top personality and chalks it up to me being “too loud” about my sexuality, romantic identity, or gender. But….that’s just who I am. I am loud about it, because I am proud of it. I’m not looking for attention, as this person claimed folks like me were, I’m just being me. 

No matter how hard I try, I can’t wrap my head around this person’s train of thought, even though, I myself, was just like them once. Gatekeeping the queer community just because I thought everyone should act like me, and if they didn’t, there was something wrong with them. I know now that way of thinking is wrong, there’s nothing wrong with people wanting to be loud about who they are, because that is Who. They. Are. 

This person said loud queer people are hurting our chances at freedom and acceptance. They said if we don’t tolerate the hate we get, we’ll never be equal. It’s funny actually, because my nan thinks like this, that you should tolerate hate and just wait for the equality that will never happen. Well, I’m tired of tolerating hate. I’m tired of being a doormat. I don’t want to let people spit at me, and call me she’s, and call me delusional, and call me attention seeking, or any other kind of name calling. I’m tired of it. 

If we aren’t loud, we won’t be free, we won’t get our acceptance, and we will never achieve equality. We tried doing it the easy way, and now, we have to get dirty. Again. You know what else is funny? This person, this person, said that queer people shouldn’t be loud because we do have “acceptance” and because we aren’t getting shot anymore. Blatant lies. We don’t have acceptance, we barely have tolerate! And we most certainly are not safe. So why be nice to the person holding the gun, if it doesn’t matter either way?

Said person, also complained about the ever growing collection of labels and pronouns, that it made the community look bad. I physically cringed at this, because, rather than a lesbian, she sounded like a conservative. 

And sure, maybe we can agree on the label thing, but not for the same reasons. I don’t believe that labels are making us look bad, because it’s just people finding out who they are, and owning it. Which is great! And while I understand that having labels helps people feel seen and real, I think they create a problem. The problem of division. 

It’s no secret humans have a labeling problem, stemming from our need to communicate, it has turned into a need to control. So much so, that we have almost a dozen words, a dozen words that mean the same thing!! I find that odd, but we need to communicate, so I can’t complain there. But, I do take issue when we label ourselves. Humans are so complex, we’re all the same and yet, completely different from each other, we don’t behave like anything else found on this planet, and we like it that way. We’re an extraordinary rainbow that is our stream of consciousness and soul. 

And yet….we keep putting ourselves in boxes. Ones that never fit. For such a fluid a beautiful creature, we sure try our best to limit that fluidity, to eradicate it. And unfortunately, I don’t think that will ever change. 

But even if it never changes, even if we’ll never stop trying to limit ourselves from all we can be….I will still wish, and hope, and dream for the days, where we won’t have to use labels for ourselves anymore, that we won’t have to fit ourselves into those tiny boxes, that we will finally be able to live freely and fluidly as the colourful, enchanting, and breathtaking creatures we are, without someone telling us it’s wrong. Without division, without oppression or discrimination, and only under one label.

Human.

#Lgbtq #queer community #thoughts #writing #my wrtitng

[egcdeath]

opposites attract

pairing: steve rogers x villain!reader

summary: based off of the lyrics:

“you and i are two oceans apart

we're on earth to break each others hearts

in two, and it's hard

with you, when i'm too far

from you, i look at the stars,

do you?”

from ‘ferrari’ by the neighbourhood

warnings: injuries, sparring, mention of blood and bruises, angst, fluff, and banter

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i am a simple woman. i think of a hurt/comfort concept and am morally obligated to write it. (this is a repost from the other day so if you saw it before, no you didn’t)

if you’d like to be added to my taglist, click here! as always, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Thick, cushioned, cream colored walls. You supposed this was an upgrade from your last room, with its harsh and reflective steel. Every time you made an appearance here, it seemed there was a new, yet futile, attempt to keep you contained.

As you studied the pillowy surface, you drummed your fingers on the wooden table that your hands were currently strapped down to, and secretly hoped for your captor to rear his head, even if he was peeking through the double-sided mirror to your left.

Your mind proved itself to be a powerful thing, as the door ahead of you opened, and none other than Captain America stepped in, looking valiant and proud as ever.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” you greeted.

“Flux,” he said in a matter of faculty tone, nodding his head at you before pulling the chair in front of you aside and sitting down.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you asked, as if you hadn’t been tussling with him in the streets less than an hour ago.

“Y’know, just our biweekly catch up,” he shrugged, playing along.

“Can I suggest coffee for our next meeting?”

Steve scoffed, but you almost swore that if you squinted, you could see him blush. “Enough of that,”  he mumbled before opening a yellow folder and turning it to face you. “You ready to tell me about him?” Steve asked, pointing to a printed photo of Brock Rumlow.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Captain,” you responded, looking up and batting your lashes at the man. This routine was like clockwork for you two. Fight a little, get yourself caught after a moment of weakness, and end up in an interrogation room.

“Don’t play dumb with me Flux,” he warned in a snarl, wrapping his fingers against your wrist and making you yelp. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

“Ouch, Captain. You’re being rough today, even for you.”

“I’m always rough with you,” he insisted, raising a brow as he loosened his hold on you.

“You’re being rougher than usual, that’s what I just said,” you furrowed your own brows at him. “Something on your mind?

“You’re stalling,” Steve stated while squinting at you.

“I would never do something like that, Cap,” you closed your eyes and visualized the outside of the building. “Does it have anything to do with those accords?”

You opened an eye quick enough to catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking, “I didn’t mean to strike a chord. Oh my gosh, ‘a chord’, accord. I really didn’t even mean to do that.”

You opened your other eye to get a clear view of him glaring at you. “Okay, sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment,” you gave Steve a sly wink.

He stood up from the chair in a dramatic fashion, leaning down to get right in your face. “No. You won’t. Tell me everything you know about Rumlow.”

“Cap,” you pouted mockingly. “You’re not very good at this. Really makes a gal wonder why they keep sending you in to interrogate me, when you don’t seem to get much out of me.”

He grit his teeth while looking down at you, your eye contact both intense and passionate.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you began, looking away at a plain wall in an attempt to focus a bit more on leaving, “I genuinely know nothing about him.”

Steve gave you a humorless look, and your eyes naturally flitted back to him, “really,” he said drily.

“Really,” you confirmed. “We don’t really work in that whole chemical warfare field. Especially with a guy like Rumlow? He’s bad news. Did you really think that all ‘villains’,” you made air quotations on the table. “Know the intimate details of each other’s lives and plans?”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed aloud as he moved back, seemingly convinced.

“I was serious when I said that I’m leaving, though. You and I both have better things to do. But please tell Wanda that she did a good job for me, okay? I mean, civilian deaths are never pretty, but I genuinely would miss having you around.”

“I hate how you talk so much, but literally say nothing,” he huffed.

“I’m not gonna take that personal, ‘cause I know you don’t really mean that,” you sighed softly and looked away to visualize the outside of the building. “Hopefully the next time I see you won’t be UN sanctioned. Farewell, Captain.”

With those words, you were gone.

——

For the next few days of your life, you hadn’t stopped receiving an earful at the Brooklyn base. Mainly from your teammates, who seemed to never let things go, and were the nastiest gossips you’d ever met. Currently, rumor had it that Cecelia, your boss, was preparing to have a strong word with you.

You cracked your knuckles anxiously as you followed a teammate, Amelia, down into the sparring facility, as an attempt to calm your mind before whatever bad news was broken to you.

You passively listened to the TV in the corner of the room while wrapping your knuckles in preparation of getting your ass beat, and listened to the rapid fire reports from hours earlier in the day, but mainly tuned into the fight between the Avengers at the Leipzig airport.

“Have you heard?” Amelia questioned, tying up her lengthy hair as she sauntered onto the mat.

“No, tell me more,” you followed suit on the mat, rising onto the ball of your foot to the heel of your foot in an alternating rhythmic bounce.

“I guess some of it is that UN thing, but it’s probably because of the Winter Soldier,” Amelia bounced similarly to you before charging forward and throwing a left hook at you.

“No way! I thought that guy just disappeared after that S.H.I.E.L.D shit,” you dodged the swing, and went to knee her. “I swear, I asked Steve about it once.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at you, and caught your knee, pushing you down to the ground in the process. “You’re obsessed with him.”

“I think it’s mutual. And you said you’d go easy on me,” you whined, grabbing her extended hand and pulling yourself back up.

“You’re delusional, and that’s why Cec is pissed with you. In fact, Cecelia was so mad, that she couldn’t even form the words to tell you. At least, that’s what she told Naomi.”

“Why, though? It’s not like I haven’t been caught by him a million times already.”

“That’s the problem, though. What happens when they decide to send someone else in to talk to you? And they start waterboarding you, or some shit? All the sudden the Avengers know everything about us?”

“Well that wouldn’t happen, because I would leave,” you shrugged after blocking a few punches.

“I hope you’re getting all your aloof-ness out now, because Cecelia is not gonna put up with this attitude.”

You huffed, and marched over to get a sip of water, dramatically squirting it in your mouth before heading back to the sparring mat.

“Just let me enjoy this while I can, okay? I know how to protect myself,” you swung your fist in an uppercut, and Amelia maneuvered herself out of the way.

“Well, I was just reading something before this. Apparently your boy is a fugitive of the law now. It almost looks like your time is already up,” Amelia commented, delivering a stiff jab to you at the same time that you crouched.

Hearing this news, you froze up, and the punch landed right on your nose, an unsatisfying crack reverberating in your ears.

“Y/N, you alright?” She asked, approaching you as you reached a hand up assess the damage, and pulled away an extremely bloody hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled letting her lead you off of the mats and to the connected bathroom, so you could get a better look at yourself.

You were dizzy with pain, and you pressed your hand to your nose, willing it to heal. Though not your most frequently used ability, it certainly assisted some of the pain. You squeezed your face in a cringe as your bone rearranged itself.

“Is he in jail?” you asked, watching her face screw up in the mirror.

“You’re not really- you are a lost cause,” Amelia scoffed.

“You could be a little nicer to the person whose nose you just broke.”

“You’re fixing your own nose! You’re fine, okay?” she exasperatedly brought her palm up to her forehead. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Be ready to talk to Cecelia as soon as you leave this room. A word of advice? Don’t mention your work husband unless she mentions it first, okay?”

Amelia set a hand on your back and pat it, “good luck with her. If you need a sofa to crash on after this, my place is always free.”

You shook your head at yourself as she left, your own personal healing already fixing most of the damage. As you hopped into your own shower stall, you couldn’t help but question just how bad this confrontation was truly going to be.

——

You walked into Cecelia’s office after receiving a text message from her assistant, inviting you to meet with her.

You were handed a disposable cup filled with piping hot coffee as you entered, and Cecelia beckoned you to sit down in front of her. You obliged, nervously rubbing your hands on your pants as you sat.

“Y/N,” she began in a sigh, “what has gotten into you lately?”

“Nothing, just-“ the older woman put an open hand out, prompting you to stop.

“No, Y/N. You’ve let Rogers become your biggest blind spot. You let him catch you off guard and capture you nearly every single time you go out on the field! I’m starting to think that you want him to catch you.”

“What if I do?” you shrugged, feigning indifference.

“It’s not a ‘what if’ anymore, dear,” Cecelia took a deep breath. “Especially after what happened in San Francisco.”

“I- Cec, you told me that you wouldn’t bring up California anymore!” you huffed and shook your head. “It’s not even like it’s a problem. They haven’t once received intel from me,” you added.

“Something tells me that you won’t be having the same interrogator for a while at least. We were gonna take you out of the field before this whole Avengers fiasco, but I think it’s time for you to just take a break as a whole.”

“So you’re firing me?” you huffed, “great.”

“No, you are taking a break. We can get you set up in the Prague safe house, and everything.”

You weakly threw up your hands and looked away from Cecelia, not even being able to bear looking at her for the moment. What a great day you were having.

——

You sulked the whole way up to your apartment, and reached in your jacket’s pocket with sluggish speed. It was as if you couldn’t catch a break today, which was all you seemed to be able to think about while grabbing your key.

You looked up at the door, and noticed something slightly off. The door was just the slightest bit ajar, as if it was deliberately cracked for you to see. Someone was inside. Waiting for you. You held in your groan as you came to this conclusion.

You really couldn’t catch a break.

Despite your better judgement, you devised a quick plan in your mind. You could probably protect yourself, right? You closed your eyes in a blink, and imagined your kitchen. The plasticky tiles on the floor, the dent in your countertop from dropping a mug, the wooden cupboards that you’d quickly fallen in love with. The next moment, you were standing in your kitchen, right next to your silverware.

As quiet as you could possibly manage to be, you slipped your sharpest and largest knife from its home in a wooden block, and defensively in front of you. Creeping out of the kitchen and into your hallway, you examined area by area for any sign of intrusion, pointing your knife with every turn.

After finding nothing and no one, at the end of the hallway you turned, walking back down and stopping in front of your living room after noticing a few dark stains on your carpet.

You took a deep breath before walking into the open space, the pit in your stomach growing at the thought of what it was that you were about to find.

With a few timid steps, you found a shirtless Steve Rogers, sat on your couch, head lolled back, eyes squeezed shut in pain as he released shallow breaths and attempted to apply pressure to a wound. With one look at him, you yelped and involuntarily found yourself back in the hallway outside of the room, your fear strong enough to force you into teleportation.

“Funny seeing you here,” Steve began, and you stalked back into the room, your steps slightly less fearful as you stepped over his discarded tactical gear.

“Steve?” You whispered, setting the knife on a random bookshelf before kneeling down on the floor next to him. You had a plethora of questions, but you couldn’t decide what was the most important. “I- Are… What happened?”

He shrugged weakly.

“Okay, well how badly are you hurt?” You questioned apprehensively.

“Pretty badly,” he responded.

You nodded slowly while you attempted to process the entire situation. You couldn’t tell if this was a scene from your wettest dream, or worst nightmare. “I’ll be right back,” you muttered, leaving the room to grab some water to help you speed up your healing process.

As you reentered your living room, you set down the bowl of water and squatted down next to Steve once again. Dipping your hands in the liquid, and placing them on an open head wound, you found it appropriate to question him.

“Steve,” you began, watching the forehead laceration quickly shrink into a small scar. “Why are you here?”

“I had nowhere else to go,” he put plainly.

“A hospital, maybe?” you added, pushing away the hand that was currently holding down a rather bloody wound on his upper arm, and exchanging it for your own.

“Something tells me that a hospital isn’t the best place for a guy of my legal status to be at right now,” he countered while you halted your attempt to reduce the size of the wound, cracking your stiff knuckles in preparation for the final push of closing the abrasion. “Besides, this isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this before. You remember S-“

“San Francisco. Right,” you cut Steve off, and brushed off the previous comment. “This is gonna hurt a little,” you warned. before setting your fingers down, and putting an obscene amount of pressure on the bicep wound.

Steve grit his teeth so hard that you swore you could hear it. His muscles clenched as you resumed your attempt to soothe the sore.

“Hey, look at me,” you used your free hand, and gently pushed his cheek so that he was looking at you. “If I distract you, it’ll hurt a lot less. Trust me.”

He seemed to agree with you, and took in a deep breath while the corner of his eye twitched.

“How did you even find my apartment?” you asked, using your pinky to tilt his chin up, and force his view away from the cut.

“It wasn’t that hard, I mean, we’ve been tracking you and that ‘financial firm’ you work in for years,” he spoke through clenched teeth.

“You sure it’s not because you like to keep a personal tab on me?”

“No! Why would I…?”

“Because if all the Avengers knew where me and my teammates reside, we’d all be locked up already.”

“Fine, maybe I pulled a few strings. It’s just because I think you’re the biggest threat to the general public.”

“Really? The woman with the least destructive powers of all of us, not the one with super strength? Or the one who could manipulate elements? Or even, I don’t know, the person leading us?” you chuckled a bit at the poor excuse.

Steve rolled his eyes fondly, but you could clearly see the soft flush on his face.

“It’s okay, Steve. We all have our favorite coworkers.”

“We aren’t coworkers, though.”

“It seems like you’re gonna need all the allies that you can come across. Don’t get picky with me now,” you tutted, finalizing your work on his peck, and leaving behind a small, pink scar.

You let out a breath of exhaustion as you pulled your hand away, and pointlessly shook out your wrists.

“You alright?” Steve questioned, adjusting himself a bit on the sofa and grunting at the rather simple task.

“Fine. What else needs attention?”

He gestured to the light bruising on his ribs that only seemed to be getting darker by the moment.

“We should take a break first, though. You seem tired.”

“I told you that I’m perfectly fine,” you countered, setting one hand on your chest, and pointing a lazy finger at Steve, “you’re the one that needs a break.”

Steve grabbed your finger and gently pushed it down, “I don’t really, but maybe we should take a break.” He gave you a kind smile, and your heart fluttered. Even bartered and bloody, Steve managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Well, any great Captain America plans to get yourself out of this mess?” you leaned against the sofa, and twisted your torso slightly so that you could get a good look at your visitor.

“Nope, not yet,” Steve pursed his lips slightly. “Any input from the lady who seems to get out of every rock and hard place she finds herself in?”

You snickered, and shook your head at this, “not at the moment. But you have me on speed dial, right? I can get back to you when I think of something,” you joked with a wink.

“I would laugh, but I’m honestly a little nervous that my lung might pop if I do.”

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you scooted away from him so you could be closer to the bowl of water once again. “Why did we take a break? You need urgent medical attention.”

“You needed a moment.”

You shook your head and frowned, catching the inside of your bottom lip between your teeth, “don’t do that again.”

You dunked both of your hands in the water, then turned back around and set your damp hands on the bruising on Steve’s ribs, closing your eyes in concentration as you addressed the damage.

Steve howled out in pain, making you flinch as a result. With the hand doing less work, you blindly pat around in a search for something to shove into his mouth and dampen the noises he was currently making. Eventually settling on a blanket, you shoved the fabric deep into his mouth.

“Sorry,” you uttered while the muted noise of his pain rang through your ears, “neighbors.”

The task wasn’t the easiest for you either, healing what seemed like such a large break or fracture following several other injuries was depleting your energy quickly. Your arms and hands trembled as you began to watch the splotchy yellow mark begin to blend into the rest of Steve’s skin, and you were becoming more and more light headed by the second.

Feeling somewhat satisfied with your work, you pulled your shaky hands away, and leaned away from Steve’s body before losing your balance, and falling back onto your plush floor.

Steve yanked the blanket from his mouth, sticking out his tongue for a second as he attempted to pull a spare string from his mouth. He sat up rapidly, and looked down at you with raised brows, and big, frightened eyes.

“Y/N?” he asked breathily, still exhausted from his own exertion, “you still with me?”

Your chest rose and fell slowly, and you were silent for a moment before responding, “I just need a minute.”

Steve relaxed back into the sofa with the knowledge that you were at least still conscious, and waited a few beats before he spoke again, “thanks,” was all that he managed to utter.

The two of you sat there in an extremely loud silence, the only other noise being your nearly synchronized panting.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you announced after what felt like hours on your floor. You slowly rose, and dragged yourself to the bathroom in your bedroom. Hitting the shower valve, then sitting atop your countertop you let the suite fill with steam, reflecting on your bizarre day, but most of all, your interaction with Steve.

You let yourself dwell on this while you stood in the shower, forehead pressed against the warm tile as you considered the implications of every word shared between the two of you, and how you’d let this tiny crush get so far ahead of you. Maybe it really was a good idea to take some time away from New York. You were so deep in your own thoughts that you failed to catch onto the sound of the floorboard that loudly creaked in your living room, or the soft click of your front door opening and closing.

Changing into some more comfortable clothing, you exited the bathroom, and ultimately your own room ready to offer up your shower to Steve, and possibly even talk about your feelings in a serious manner with him. Yet, by the time you arrived at the couch that had held him just a half hour ago, it was vacant. In fact, your whole apartment was vacant. You’d checked three whole times.

Ending your fruitless search on your balcony, you settled down into the single plastic beach chair that you kept outdoors, and draped the blanket from your sofa that had previously been in Steve’s mouth around your shoulders. The chill of the night air contributed to the sting of your eyes when they welled up, and you told yourself that it was silly to ever think that this, you and him, could ever happen in the first place.

Gazing up at the stars, you cursed yourself for being so naive. For letting yourself fall so fast, and so hard for someone you knew so out of reach. The stars seemed to mock you, in all of their billions of years of knowledge.

Yet, part of you was comforted by the knowledge that Steve could be viewing the same constellations as you.

----

a/n: listen. i feel like these idiots have a lot of potential so if you want me to write any more of them i am totally down!

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #captain america x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

[art-of-mathematics]

Feeling like a huge fraud and imposter again. Ughh... Maybe I'm really just trash and the shit I do is only delusional nonsense and only tactics to compensate the pain of having lost it all and having no option to ever be able to not suffer in misery and deprivation. Maybe I just try to do all this to elevate my own self esteem in a morbid manner, just to drown the pain of countless unfortunate events, resulting in utter destruction of my potential and any hope of finding my place in this world? I don't know anything anymore. Maybe it is all pointless. What can I do? I am stuck. There is no return to not letting everything revolve about my special interests. But I'm such a fraud somehow. It's all wackery gibberish I talk. I make claims and are far too lax/slack to make it valid enough to be considered trustworthy in any means. I'm a fool. And I don't want to spread misinformation, because that's the least we need. Damn, I think about things I said and wrote - and it's so awfully cringe. It sounds like utter shit. Compressed shit is still shit.

The brain is capable of anything to 'safe' you from trauma - even if it turns into self-dissolution and decay. Fuck it! I never intended to be my own antagonist. Everything I build up I unwillingly smash when turning my back. I can't wake from THIS unfortunate reality. I just wish it would stop to hurt so much. I just wish to be free from this prison of constant self-antagonization. Or is this really DID they supposed it to be?

Is there a third part of me/us who sabotages us? Damn, it took so long to stabilize our cooperation, but I forgot there might be a third. I feel like my body is a nuthouse and trying to calm em all. 24/7 working. I am tired. I drive nuts myself. Fuck it all. I am done with it all. Where do I take the strength to keep saving those fuckers from their own doom? Why don't I let the broken ship sink? Self-control. Inhumane amount of self-control... Maybe your alters can also get alters... But please no... What if we split so much, recursively, that self-organization arizes in that dynamical system? I don't know whether what I talk about is just shitty nonsense, or a somewhat description of what is happening here. It's a self-similar nightmare.

Why did we do this? I never wanted to be a living paradox, a simulation of a goddamn tangled hierarchy. But shit, that is what I am. Polarity is the only form of my being. Sadly I can't exist if they all annihilate. I am trapped in a logical inconsistency of a superposed and entangled state. Between existence and non-existence that is the only point I can 'exist'... I am not in this world, nor am I not in it. I am the thing that could not be. I have already died, yet my body survived as empty shell... living corpse... And fuck it! I just want to live a life with my basic needs fullfilled. Is being allowed to live too much to ask for?

Maybe I'm just complaining... as usual...banalities of a void knot...

#incomprehensible #dissociation #complex trauma #multiplicity

[nithhaiahh]

God that was so much cringe at once did you call him ''pappa''? which means ''dad''? I'm not talking about the others neither do I ship them with anybody else, I'm talking about you and Swain, and you think I didn't talk about other age-gap shippers who are infact younger than you?

but muhh seperate fiction from reality muhh

just admit you have an age-gap kink like many girls and women who have watched or read 50 shades of gray, and think it's cool and mature to hang out with older man as an unexperienced woman.

Why would a man who is around 50 be interested in someone who is 26? It's mainly about control and women around his age who could offer more in terms of knowledge and power see past his bullshit then, or not?

You headcanon him as someone who is aware of that and that's why he calls you, his s/o, princess instead of queen because deep down you do interpret him as someone who doesn't view your self-insert as equal just as an entertaining accessoire (''oh look she talks smart unlike others her age'', ''oh look she is my emotional support animal and is my therapist for free''). I mean that's the natural consequence of age-gap relationships.

You aren't a mature woman, otherwise you wouldn't ship yourself with someone who is what? 20 years older than you? And butcher his character into some troubled manchild for that? Perhaps you did have a convo where he praised you on how mature you were lmfao

I'm 20 years old yet I'm not a delusional self-shipper who likes to fit characters into a special ''if he were like he'd like me'' mold, it's just insulting, as if you have never read his short stories.

Be honest with yourself, canon Swain wouldn't be interested in you, he wouldn't even notice your presence unless you have talents but even then he'd take a mentor role as he did atleast once in canon.

//Shdjsjf HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry to disappoint you, but not Nith or me have had the chance to read or watch 50 Shades.

"... Dude, you literally don't know a muffin about me, do you?"

//Read some posts my man. Pappa is THRESH. He adopted her. Dadda is Karthus, same, adopted. Grandpa is Mordekaiser and Maokai, and then we have her uncles. Mom is Olga, also adopted. I thought that was obvious but fair, fair, I'll add it in rules or something like that hahaha.

"And, no? Why the hell would I want to be with someone who doesn't see me as an equal? Besides, he calls me princess simply because THAT'S MY TITLE. I am the princess of the Shadow Isles. Not that I like it, but since pappa (THRESH) became the new King and Im his daughter that made me the princess of the place. Bleh, politics."

//Self inserted, pff, hehe. Well, you aren't wrong there. I did wrote the first rps based under that concept of someone like him using Nith or having her just for fun. Because, honestly, yeah that's the perspective I had of an evil character. Later on, many rps later, he alone cleaned his name and there for, with that out of the question, she fell for him. Is like 2 years of rp, I don't blame u for not wanting to read all that. And nah, I don't ship like that. If the person is evil, keep them evil. Character develop. is different depending of the mun. I hate the concept of change ones essence just because 'miss fairy appeared and now he isn't evil'. Too cliché.

As for your last last point, yeah I agree! Canon Canon Swain wrote by Riot wouldn't even look at Nith if not for someone to manipulate or mentor, just to use her. That's why I like the fresh perspective of this one.

Hey, dude. I see some logical points there. Some that are misinterpreted because of lack of information. Wanna DM me? No, no, really. I just wanna talk and hear your thoughts. Perhaps explain you some of the context behind my characters story, but yeah, no harsh feeling.

#DM me if u want i would like to hear your perspective calmly #I'll try to reply to u asap sry if it takes a bit because I'm at work

[aliaslua]

Right to live

Chapter 02 of my on going series: In broad daylight

Chapter summary: Michelangelo has a productive therapy session after his interview. April and Casey announce their wedding and in a jealousy crisis, Donatello has his first one-night-stand. Warning: This chapter contain light smut (mature, not explicit) if you're a minor please DON'T INTERACT. TW: Trauma mention (nothing too graphic or descriptive, but it does contain a short account of a panic attack).

Michelangelo started therapy after his first panic attack.

It was - maybe - the worst night of his life. At that point in time he didn’t even knew what a trigger was - and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to identify or anticipate his reaction. If felt like he was dying in a literal, visceral sense. It was like having a bomb growing inside his shell, the beating counting down to a heart attack, he felt his lips cold, his head heavy and the touch of Donatello’s hand in his shoulders felt cold against his skin for the first time in his life. He could still remembers his brothers calling to him and his inhuman effort to look them in the eyes, just as he gazed into the house he grew up in and didn’t recognize the color of the new floor tiles.

The rest was a blur.

Dr. Miller was April’s last effort to persuade Leo and Raph that Mikey needed professional counseling. At this point, Mikey didn't have enough will to have a strong opinion on his treatment, he didn't have the will to do anything, really. All his days were spent sleeping by day and having terrible night anxiety, followed by an earth-shattering cry until morning, when he went back to sleep.  Despite their best effort to care for and protect the younger sibling, all of his brothers knew that he had become impossible to handle - and more important than that, his emotional and physical dependency got so intense that it was perfectly clear that there was nothing they could do: Michelangelo need help, professional help.

On the first day they entered Dr. Miller’s office, April had reassured everybody she had send the therapist recent photos of Mikey and explained all his possible triggers in detail. The clinic would open two hours early so that they could have privacy and that this first encounter would include Mikey, his brothers and Sara Miller only.

Mikey was so nervous he felt like this situation alone would end up triggering his next attack: his hands were sweaty, his chest heavy and the feeling in his stomach made him realize that maybe he would throw up all those recent pizza slices. When the door to her office opened, he felt an immediate relief upon looking at her.

Sara (as he would start calling her later) was a 67 years old black woman, wearing a knitted cardigan and a puffy ponytail. She looked at him with eyes free from any king of judgment: any kind of feeling at all, actually, it was very… neutral. After gazing at him and his brothers she had smiled lightly and then calmly said:

"Good morning. I am Dr. Miller. Are you Michelangelo?" Mikey just nodded " Welcome. Please, come in.”

So he did, on that Monday morning and all the next yet to come, for two years straight.

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

“Did you see the interview?” Mikey asked just as he entered her office, not even worrying about greeting Sara.

“Yes I did.” She answered with the same peaceful deep voice, unbothered by the absence of a greet “You looked very handsome.”

“I sure did!” The mutant turtle seated at the large red sofa, his body melting in the comfortable cushions, he grabbed one of the small pillows behind him and held it tight against his chest “Ugh! It was so fun!”

Sara smiled. She always gave him a kind of smile that made Mikey feel like she was the perfect embodiment of a fairytale grandma and for the first time, Michelangelo actually considered she might actually be someone else’s grandmother.

“I am glad to hear that. Did you do the exercises he practiced?”

Mikey hummed “It helped. But what really made all difference was that Leo was there. And April. Oh, April is getting married!�� He announced “She and Casey told us about the engagement just after we all saw the interview air. It was a great night.” He stopped for a minute and laid his head against the couch, focusing on the abstract painting that always caught his attention since the first day he sat there, he knew his voice let out a sadness he was trying to hide. He didn’t need to pretend there.

“It was… Weird, I guess… Like, I should be happy for them, right? Casey is a nice man, he treats her right, they already have a life together, an apartment with a huge TV and an aquarium… I can’t argue with that, right? Right?” Sara didn’t answer, Michelangelo laid his head completely on the couch, staring at the sealing “She was my first love…. Or something like it. I feel so attached to her and…” He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, trying to measure all the feelings filling his chest “...I think I… Should I feel happy for her? Because I felt… Huh, I felt betrayed.”

“Do you feel resentment?” Dr. Miller finally asked, gazing calmly at him.

“Yeah, I guess… I didn’t know what I expected... and I don’t want to marry April. Not anymore, I mean. She is like a sister to me. No! It’s more than that… She’s like… I- It just.. it was all so fast! Everything is so fast right now, and she decided to announce just as the interview ended and I felt so… I felt so overshadowed!”

“You felt it was your night.”

“It WAS my night. And I don’t mean to sound selfish, you know? I just… Wished they had waited.”

Sara looked at her patient making a conscious effort to avoid giving away her own feelings, the enormous man in front her had a gloomy expression and tired eyes.

“Mikey, is not the first time you mention feeling like this.”

“Like what?”

“ Overshadowed .” She quoted him.

“Yeah… I guess it's something I’ve been feeling for a while.”

“You mentioned once that you felt… Smushed, is the word you used.”

“Yeah. Smushed between my brothers.”

“Hmm” Sara nodded “What about that?”

“Well, you know about that… They are all special in their own way. Leo is the leader, Raph is the muscle, Donnie is the genius, I am the… Comic relief?”

“You sound like you are all characters of a cartoon.”

“We look like it!” Mikey said, humorous. Sara did her best  to contain a tiny smile that formed in her cheeks.

“Well, you are your own person, Mikey. You don’t have to fulfill an imaginary role you fantasized for yourself.”

“Yeah I feel like you’re always telling me that.” He sighed “What this has to do with April?”

“You were telling me about her engagement…”

“Yeah. It was crazy… I mean, me, Leo and Raph kept it together but Donnie just… Bolted.” A nervous laugh escaped him “She told the news and he just… Left. I guess it was too much for him. You know, April was the only person we knew for so long… It was only natural to fall for her, right? She’s so nice, kind, and after the expected first meeting shock she treated us with… Dignity is the world Master Splinter likes to use... But then we all grew out of it.”

A long silence followed before he complemented:

“I guess Donnie didn’t”

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

Donatello felt his feet too tight against the leather shoe and considered for the third time on that evening that maybe this was a terrible idea.

Ignoring his own better judgement, he knocked.

Alicia Ellis awakened in him two utterly contradictory and madding feelings: disgust and lust.

Many times he had tried - and succeeded- at disguising the amount of attention he paid to her body, especially since the context they first met didn’t allowed for flirtatious endeavors and despite knowing his physical body was searching it’s hormonal peak, Donatello proud himself on being utterly respectful: an effort that he felt he was making alone. Ellis never even tried to hide her indiscreet wants, playing with their encounters just enough to not be considered harassment, but clear enough to not allow ambiguity. Was that even possible? Donnie asked himself. Did it even matter now?

He felt disgusted mostly towards himself, actually, knowing full well why he had come to her apartment after that eventful night, just as the women he thought he could win over announced her engagement to the man he honestly felt he could one day surpass - pathetic, he beat himself again, cringing at the mere fact he once imagined a possible future for them, together. What a pathetic, emotional, delusional monster you are, dreaming about the pretty girl that once held your hand… And now you surrender to your most selfish desire, luring this woman who will be stupid enough to let you in.

This is going to ruin you. Was the last thing he thought before she opened the door.

She was astonishingly beautiful, with her thick luxurious wavy hair and round plump figure, pressed against a tight outfit he didn’t have enough interest to notice in detail.

“Took you long enough.” She said in a malicious tone, grabbing him by his belt. The apartment was warm, had a delicious floral smell and it was lit in subtle yellow light that mimicked candles. It was sexy, inviting and terribly scary, just like her.

This is going to ruin me . The feeling echoed towards Donnie as he willfully closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t hard for him to understand why a woman like her would take interest in being with a man like him, the internet had allowed Donnie to have a very indiscreet access to the human world - especially since people seemed really comfortable in sharing online things they wouldn’t even tell a best friend - and he knew way before they even came out to the surface that most probably wouldn’t be difficult to find someone willing to share a bed with him. Alicia was just a part of a very niche - yet not so small as one may think - group.

The thought brought him a small relief and a strike of courage that he much needed at that moment.

“I didn’t think you would come.” She said, bringing two glasses of a clear-yellow liquid. What an inappropriate move to bring a glass of white wine to a young adult not-yet-of-age , his better judgment told him as he accepted the glass, but wasn’t he 21 yet? Yes, he was... Maybe it was just judgment.

“Me neither” He answered after a sigh, too honest for his own sake.

“What changed your mind?” She mischievously asked, crossing her legs in an angle that brushed against his knee.

Donatello considered for a minute to said the truth, my heart was broken and honestly I really want to have sex, how would she respond to that? Was there a polite way of saying it? Instead, he said: “I’ve decided to change my approach on things.”

“Oh, really?” She smiled honestly “...And how’s that gonna happen?”

I will take every opportunity that life gives me, irrespective of its consequences, “I’ll stop sabotaging my wants…” He turned his body a little bit in her direction, he had planned a second sentence to follow but it seemed like he had already said all she needed to hear.

She slid her knee between his legs to climb his lap, brushing the space between the buttons of his shirt lightly. How quickly she hopped on top of him and how quickly his body responded to the feel of her warm perfumed breath against his neck. “That’s great to hear.”

It wasn’t Donatello’s first kiss but the tension of feeling the soft lips of a woman he barely knew nothing about added to the oh-so-suggestive friction of her thighs against  his zipper made it an entirely new experience. If he granted himself a moment of reason, Donnie would most likely find her too hurried and eager - but again, what was his experience in this field? Wasn’t this how the encounter should go? What else was he expecting? Independent of what his reason may have considered, the friction of her palms against the now prominent bulge in his pants added to the delicious sounds coming from her throat made every single indecision go away.

He felt his head light and dizzy as their tongues danced against each other and the urge to feel relief made him bold. She answered the squeeze he gave her bottom with an audible moan that gave Donatello’s stomach a cold wave of shock along with the first visible stain in between his paints. She felt the thickness of his fluid against the fabric and smiled against his lips.

“Such a passionate… response.” She said in what sounded like a performative tone - well, she was a journalist.

He took her incentive and slide her tube dress above her ass, stoking it as he lowered his lips to her neck. Her skin was soft and the way it reacted to his mouth - the small flinches of her body and the building pressure between his legs could only compare to the amazing feeling of her silk soft thigh skin. She used her hands to guide his head further down, lowering the piece of garment herself, he instinctively took one of her nipples in his mouth, enjoying the contrast between the soft skin of her breasts and the beaded texture of her nipples.

When Alicia laid her body against him on the couch, he followed her moves and felt the soft pillow against his head, the discreet but unmistakable sound of his zipper being opened followed by her stocked gasp at his member followed by “Oh I’m gonna have fun tonight!”. Donatello held her waist closer to his own, trying to reach her lips again, wondering if he could say the same. The warmth between her legs and the delicious feeling that jolted through his body and she aligned him to her entry - and the irresistible pleasure of feeling his tip tease her plump lips - made him think that the most likely answer was yes .

...And what an unnecessary concern the wine proved to be: he didn’t even get to drink it.

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

“...you know, Raph made a friend.” Mikey had stood on his feet and now looked through the squared window. He had a regular habit of standing up during the sessions, usually as they were reaching the middle of the appointment. Sara it wrote down anyway, before adding:

“Really?”

Mikey hummed “...It’s a complicated story - but he left to buy a bear, this old man didn’t want to sell it to him, so he got really angry, so someone threatened to call the police, so he started to freak out and then this… girl appeared!”  He was switching his body height between his legs “Clara. What a name! Heh- I don’t get to say that, huh? Well, her name was Clara and he said she looked like an anime version of a character from Fresh prince of bel air … Can you imagine?” He turned to look at her. Sara just nodded.

“Wanna hear some really crazy stuff? Raph told me that they were talking and she told him she saw my interview… and she said she was in love with me!” He offered his therapist an incredulous happy smile “ME! Can you believe it?”

Sara hummed and made another note.

“I know she was kidding, I don’t think she loves me. But saying it like this sounds like… Like I am a celebrity! Like she would like to know me… Like…”

“Like you have been seen.”

“HELL YEAH!” He exclaimed, sitting down on the couch again grabbing his trust-worthy pillow “... And that sucker didn’t even got her number…” A deep sigh followed silence. Very discreetly, Dr. Miller checked her watch.

“It doesn’t matter, really, it just made me realize… That I wished I had someone…”

More silence.

“-I know I already have someone, if that's what you’re gonna say… I know my brothers are my care net and that I have friends and confidants, and bla bla bla”.

“Well I wasn’t going to…” She said peacefully.

“ I want… A lover . Someone to be my special one. Someone to cherish and spoil and share my life with! Someone who can say they’re in love with me… For real.”

More deep silence.

“... And why don’t you?” She finally prompted. Michelangelo turned to look at her with a impatient expression:

“Are you kiddin’ me?”

“I am definitely not.”

“You can’t be that cynical!”

“I am not.”

“Sara…” He sighed uneasily “... not this again.” she heard pain in his words.

“You have the right to live, Mikey.” She gazed at him with the same kind eyes, letting her strong words get to him “...Just like anyone else.”

This time, that was an anxious silence. Michelangelo rubbed his hands together as if he was facing a cold storm “What if it happens again?”

“Then you will do what we practiced.” She waited for an answer that didn’t come “... Do you wanna remember it once again with me?”

He simply nodded.

“I am more…” She started.

“...than people perceive me.”

“I’ve the right…”

“...to occupy space.”

“No one…”

“No one can deny me my right to live.”

“That was great, Mikey.” Dr. Miller said kindly.

He squeezed the tears away from his eyes, not even realizing they were there. “...Yeah… Yeah, it was.”

━━━━━━ • ✿ ��� ━━━━━━

It was certainly.... Memorable , Donatello thought, staring at his brand new shoes as they made the path back to the lair. How was it again that he found himself in that situation? That sad looking, empty feeling, walk-of-shame. Oh, yeah, Alicia Ellis.

Something felt terrible wrong about that whole endeavor. He tried to think about the details, to analyze the facts: it has been clearly consensual, sober, communicative sex. So why did he feel like some part of him had been left behind in that apartment? Was it his clear shyness when they finally consumed the act or her generous overlook at his even clearer lack of experience? Had him fail his mission? Factually not! He performed… Fine - it was hard to measure, but she seemed pleased enough. He was also pleased… Physically, at least.

So why did he feel so… Empty?

He walked among the streets of New York without the concern his older brother seemed to carry. Donatello was always really good at not carrying - just as he was good at carrying too much . Oh, yes, his overthinking nature was still going to kill him, no matter how hard he tried to pretend like it didn’t matter at all.

Nothing mattered, everything mattered. What a contradictory and childish state of mind. Could he ever find balance? Would he ever be able to take risks and still be prudent? To be disappointed and not lose all faith? To love deeply and move over from it, stronger and ready to love again? Did he ever truly love her ?

He remembered her ring shining against the light, mocking his defeat. A zirconium, Casey Jones…  Can’t even buy her a real diamond . He muttered to himself and the night, kicking a small rock in the path.

The worst part, the real strike of the devil - was the fact that she looked immensely happy. Heartbreakingly happy. And there was nothing, nothing in this world that Donnie could think that could justify taking this away from her - not even the fantasy that she could be happier.

He took a deep breath and grabbed the keys in his pocket. That was no way out of it: we would have to get over her. At least now he knew that running away to unknown women’s homes was not a viable solution.

#TMNT #TMNT Michelangelo #TMNT Donatello #TMNT Bayverse #tmnt smut #tmnt fanfic #in broad daylight #it took so long but I am really proud #the response to the first chapter was been lukewarm but I am happy with it anyway #mikey is my baby

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | ii

genre: vampire!jaehyun

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

important note: the au’s i write for nct members do not, in any way, reflect them in real life. they are only my muses for my writing and an addition to enliven my fictions! ♡

“father, i must confess

i tasted the devil,

orison in my lips

with blood on his teeth,

how could he taste like

honeysuckle,

the bitter tang of revulsion,

and the carnage of war?

father, i kissed the devil

even if i should not

will you punish me

now that i see burnish gold

in his hands

instead of blood?”

— bane of the devil // ii

A nervous chuckle broke free out of your mouth by the mention of the word ‘vampire’. Agitation filled your whole body; your fingers started to shake, your heart beating in frenetic patterns inside your chest. Jaehyun laid still, all bloodied and nearly unconscious on the sofa.

“Are you crazy?” You managed to croak, the tightness in your throat making it hard for you to speak.

Perhaps the pain of his laceration made him delusional. Perhaps Johnny told him about the death of your parents. Perhaps he knows about your obsession towards vampires. Perhaps, perhaps—

“A little bit out of my mind, yes.” His chest and shoulders vibrated by the toneless chuckle his mouth released. “Crazy? No.” Jaehyun’s eyes were still closed, but a playful smile was displayed on his lips. You have no idea how could he smile despite of his situation. He must be really deranged.

“You must be in so much pain,” you sympathized. A single paper cut hurts like hell, what more when it’s a long gash in your stomach? The mere thought was enough to make you recoil in your seat. So, you tried not to dwell in Jaehyun’s pain as you continued to sew his skin back together.

“I don’t feel anything at all.” Then he sat up from the sofa and brought his forefinger to the wound. He pressed his finger down on the incision, causing his blood to gush down his jeans.

You slapped his hand away, while he chuckles as if he enjoys seeing his blood. “What the hell?!”

“See?” he sighed before leaning back on the sofa. Sinister as it was, you have decided to just ignore his remarks and focus on the needle and thread instead. But Jaehyun seemed to be having the time of his life as he pushed on yet another statement, “How I wish I could drink my own blood.”

Bony faces, sunken cheeks, withered bodies— those were what was left of your parents’ once healthy features when you saw them lying on the metal beds in the morgue, their eyes lifeless. The same image went crashing back in your mind as you heard Jaehyun’s utterance. As much as you wanted to lash out on him for being insensitive, you could not bring yourself to now that you weren’t sure whether Johnny really told him about your mother and father’s demise.

“I don’t mean to offend, but…” your teeth twiddled with your bottom lip, Jaehyun silent beside you, “Are you… mentally ill or something?”

It’s impolite to pry. But if you would sleep in a roof with a man who nonchalantly brushes off his injuries like it was just a small scratch and not a long gash, you’ve guessed you needed to know how to walk the attenuated thread that seems to bind his sanity together. You trust you brother— despite him selling your apartment without having a word with you— you’ve met some of his friends before, and you still believe that Jaehyun is not a bad person. And that you hadn’t been wrong to allow him inside the house.

“I am not,” he finally answered after minutes of being lost for words.

“Then why did you tell me that you’re a vampire?”

“Because I am.”

There was a certain rise of intonation in his words that you have a difficulty distinguishing if it was a question or a statement.

“Did Johnny order you to do this? To scare me by standing bloodied in my doorway, and to frighten me more by saying you are a vampire? Because it’s not funny.” You slammed the lid of the sewing kit shut, breathing heavily while looking at Jaehyun. Your fingers imprinted the lid with blood.

His infamous smirk was plastered on his face in a blink, displaying his dimples. He gripped the arm of the sofa then sat up, his eyes boring into yours. “First, no one orders me around. Secondly, I don’t know shit about what you’ve just said. And yes, I think you really need to be frightened because I really am a blood-sucking bastard.”

Jaehyun bared his teeth, his two fangs elongating— Before. Your. Very. Eyes. The ravaging of your heart inside your chest was unbearable. The widening of your eyes would have been enough to let your eyeballs roll off your eye sockets.

Are you going to die now? Are you going to die just like your mother and father; lifeless eyes, wasted body? Mom and Dad. They died in such a terrible way. A cruel death for two loving souls. And they were killed by a vampire— like the monster in front of you. You grabbed the sewing kit— it’s stupid, it’s hopeless but you need to stay alive— and slammed it into Jaehyun’s face.

His face turned sideways by the impact. If a different person would put his shoes on yours right now, the person would surely collapse because of fear. But you’ve anticipated this all your life— this is your purpose. To meet a vampire, to kill a vampire. However, you are still just a person; petrified of the undead.

Breathing ragged with your heart nearly collapsing, you ran for the kitchen and rummage through the drawers to find a vinegar. Before you could sprint away from him, you need to at least injure him first. The rosary standing near the altar behind the television waved at you, you grabbed it until the cross dug in your palm.

With a vinegar in one hand, and a rosary in the other, you dashed back to the living room. Where Jaehyun sat as if he was on a vacation. His arms were laying stretched out on the head of the sofa, his eyes observing you with deviltry in them.

“Begone! You monster!” You opened the lid and threw him the vinegar, the liquid splashing on his body, on the floors and some on your own shoes. The smell of it whiffing your nose, making it itch. It would scorch Jaehyun, that’s for certain.

With the rosary raised by your hand, you shut your eyes and started chanting prayers. “Our Father, Who art in heaven, Holy be Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth—”

Then a howl. You opened your eyes and saw Jaehyun lying on the floor, he was in a fetal position while screaming. You did it! Without waiting for him to recover, you grabbed your phone and ran for the door. As you gripped the doorknob, the howl of pain echoing around the room was replaced by howls of laughters.

Jaehyun is laughing.

You turned around with narrowed brows. He was kneeling on the floors now, clutching his stomach while laughing. His shoulders continued to vibrate, his laughs enveloping the whole space.

“Why—? How?” was your breathless question.

“Damn, that was hilarious.” Then he slowly got up on his feet, a low laugh escaping from his lips even now. He took a step towards you, while you backed away from him.

His hands was raised in shoulder length in an instant, “Whoa. I’m not going to bite you,” he chuckled, then he raised a brow, “not unless you want me to.”

Every young adult romance books who has a cocky man as their main character had that line in one of their pages at least. It was enough to make you cringe just reading it in a book, but to be told the same thing in real life was like a dirt you could not wash off your body.

“Why… why aren’t you scathed?” You observe his body from head to toe, not a trace of scorched skin could be seen in his pale features. “Are you just fucking around?” An infinitesimal dismay bubbled up in your heart by the realization. You could have killed him, you could have taken vengeance for the death of your parents. Could you, truly? If you weren’t even sure about your theories, if you do not even have any idea about the face of their murderer?

“I am a vampire, babygirl.” He continued to advance to you, until your back was against the plain walls of your house, with Jaehyun’s one hand pressed to the walls beside your head. “So you better pack and move out tomorrow before I suck all the blood from your body.”

This close, you could see his lashes fanning his cheeks. They haven’t mistaken when they wrote vampires as terrifying yet beautiful creatures. Jaehyun is stunning.  All the papers plastered on your blackboard slowly came to life through him. You have primed yourself for this day, yet the weak side of being human ate you up as you stood unmoving, eyes focused on Jaehyun and Jaehyun’s face only. They were right when they said vampires were mesmerizing.

You could not move a muscle to defend yourself. With a heavy heart, you braced yourself for your end.  

“Hatred. So much hatred.” Jaehyun sniffed at you, you blinked. What is he doing? “Your blood would taste bitter on my tongue,” he stated, breath fanning your face. It smelled like cigarette, cigarette and mint. “You are so full of hate. Why?”

Then he took a step back, before running his hand through his hair. “Go.” His playful façade was back when he looked at you as if he’s going to pounce on you anytime sooner. “Lock your doors and don’t leave. Johnny told me to keep you safe, so don’t try to run. Because I will know.”

You should bolt out of the house and away from him, it’s preposterous if you won’t. Staying and sleeping in your bed should be out of the choices.

Where else would you go, though? Haechan’s? The little devil would surely squeeze the reasons out of you if ever you decide to stay the night in his house. Mark’s? He’s living with his own. He’d surely feel flustered by the thought of you sleeping in the same roof as him.

Jaehyun made it clear he would know if you do something as to try to leave the house, you do not doubt him one bit. On the other side of things, this is your chance to put your life out of misery: the misery that was inflicted by the murder of your parents.

Sometimes, we have to be a little bit crazy to accomplish something right? We have to be out of our minds to push our boundaries and ignite the bravery in our hearts.

Tonight, you’ve decided to be insane.

Tonight, you will stay.

—

A single dagger lay quietly on your bed. You sat, your legs crossed with each other as you stare at it with pure concentration. The blade reflecting your face in a blurred image. You bought it online years ago, and was hidden underneath your dresser ever since it has arrived. The design was remarkably artistic; a snake head as its pommel and hilt, and instead of a silver blade, it was onyx black.

Grief. It was the reason why you bought it in the first place. Of course, it was Johnny’s name you wrote in the information so you could buy the dagger. The grief and the yearning to find a vampire was what fueled your determined little spirit, resulting in you,  breaking the rules.

Jaehyun’s elongated fangs flashed in your sight as you stare at the dagger. Is he really a vampire? But the vinegar had no effect to his skin, not even the rosary or the prayers. Yet the fangs. How could he make those fangs longer? Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps it’s your disconcertment playing tricks on you.

You let your body fall into the mattress. It was like a hearkened prayer. A vampire showing in your doorstep when you least expect it. Was it why he does not appeared to be breathing? Or hurt by his wound and the sewing you’ve done to his skin? Perhaps he’s high, intoxicated, you have no idea. But you believed that even drugs would not obliterate the painful effect of your stomach being slashed open.  

If he’s truly a vampire, why didn’t he use his powers to heal himself? Being undead, and the blood they consumes from humans or animals makes it easier for them to recover from any wound. A gash like that in Jaehyun’s stomach would only compare to a small knife cut or to nothing at all.

There’s only one way to know. No, there are many ways to know the truth, you realized as you glanced at the full body mirror resting near your closet. Vampires can not cast shadows nor reflections. Especially when the mirror is backed with silver.

You pulled the chair, drafting table, and your little drawer away from behind the door. It was a horrendous idea to lock your door with your furnitures, only to pull them back again. Safety first, though.

What if he’s truly a vampire? The question drew you in a sudden halt, your hand frozen onto the doorknob. Then you realized that you have not prepared yourself to meet a real vampire after all. Concocting everything in your mind was easier because it hasn’t occurred to you— not even in your wildest imaginations— that you’d see a vampire today. In the modern world and years after the death of your parents.

As the saying goes, it’s now or never. So you turned the doorknob, and stepped outside your bedroom— your hand holding the dagger behind you.

Jaehyun sits on the sofa while he dries his hair with a towel. He was wearing Johnny’s clothes. The scent of your own shampoo lingers in the air, a proof that he had used it. You swallowed the irritation and sauntered up towards him instead. There’s a mirror hanged on the wall above the piano, you took a quick glance at it while planning ways on how to make Jaehyun stand in front of it.

“I told you to stay in your room,” he impassively voiced out, eyes not looking up at yours. When he did look up to you, your breath was snatched away. He looked fresh, and clean. His face was free of blood now, revealing his pale yet soft features and the redness of his lips. The beauty he possesses locked you up on your position.

“By the way, I’m charging money towards the person who looks at me like that,” Jaehyun stated before standing up.

You blinked, washing away your embarrassment by clearing your throat and slightly shaking your head. “I have to ask you about a few things.” Before he could answer, you’ve already spoken, “Where did you meet Johnny?”

“Casino,” was his bored response before reaching for the remote and tuning on the television.

“Casino? Why would you meet him in a casino?”

“Your brother owes me a large sum of money after gambling all of his in baccarat,” he explained. The various colors from the television illuminating his face.

“Baccarat?”

“Casino game, one you would not understand as a college girl.” He glanced at you then. “Do you have any beer stored here?”

You ignored his remarks and shook your head instead, “We don’t. I do not allow it.”

“Well, thank fuck that this is my house now.” He leaned and propped his arms on his legs, “Why don’t you buy me a bottle as a welcome gift?”

“Don’t you have a penny?” This time, you’re the one whose voice was laced with boredom.

“I won’t ask you if I have a dollar.”

“Your audacity, it’s impeccable,” was your sarcastic response. “Why did Johnny vend you the house? Our house?” You put an emphasis to the last words, trying to veer the conversation to your advantage.

Jaehyun merely looked at you from the television, “Didn’t I just answer your question? He lost all his money, he borrowed mine, and as payment, he sold me your house. Business.”

“I couldn’t believed Johnny would sell you this house without consulting me,” you exhaled. Realization was dashing against your mind. He really sold the house, the one thing your parents built with their blood and sweat.

“Yup. Me too,” he smiled impishly, “I couldn’t believe you would have enough audacity to hide a dagger behind you.” He stood up, walking towards you in a languid manner, “Baby, is that for me?” He asked, his mouth dripping sensuality; sweet as honeysuckle. “Because I would tell you now it won’t do anything.”

You concealed your shock by straightening your back and stepping backwards, the mirror inviting your line of sight. All you have to do is step back until Jaehyun’s façade is on its surface.

“Really? What about I stab you with it through your heart?”

The urge to bury the dagger in Jaehyun’s chest was like a magnet, pulling you with a force that made your hand reveal the dagger. Fascination flickered in his eyes as he took in the length of the blade.

“You’ve got good taste.”

The dagger was raised, so is his finger. In a blink, his finger was pressed on the very edge, his blood cascading down the blade. One step, one step is all it would take for the mirror to reflect his body. One step and—

And then his mouth was on yours. Unmindful of the dagger between the both of you, Jaehyun pressed on, his kiss going ferocious in every second. Your body went rigid, the slick flicker of his tongue on your lower lip electrocuting you in the most pleasurable way.

Vampires are sinisterly sensual creatures. They could lure you with their beauty, fascinate you with their eyes. It was another thing to read about it, and another to feel it yourself. A millennium old gens never lied about vampires’ ability to romance a mortal.

The mirror. You opened your eyes, the mirror on your peripheral. It was difficult to get a better view, especially when Jaehyun was still kissing you. Your body refused to pull away, so you pulled Jaehyun closer instead. In a very unobtrusive way, you slightly turned your head sideways, so you would be able to see the mirror.

Trying your hardest not to completely fall into the desire, you grabbed Jaehyun’s hair with your other hand, then turned your body. Verity slapped you right in the guts as you see Jaehyun’s back reflecting on the mirror. You pulled away, catching your breath and gripping the dagger tightly with your hand. He reflected on the mirror, he wasn’t scorched when you splashed vinegar onto his body, he repelled the prayers and the rosary. Is he the insane one? Or is it you?

Jaehyun’s lips were swollen, and you do not doubt yours looks like that too. You stared at each other for seconds, Jaehyun stupefied in front of you. He looked shocked, like he had just came out of water, and was struggling to stabilize his breath. Before anyone could utter a word, you sprinted back to your room and locked it behind you.

—

That night, you lay awake on the mattress. Sleep feels like miles away. You could not simply close your eyes and pretend that there wasn’t a potential vampire under your roof. And you’ve kissed that vampire. It feels like betrayal, a bittersweet kind of one. However, you’ve nailed it on your mind not to repeat the same stupidity again. Not if you want to take retribution for the death of your parents.

A Roland for an Oliver. Always.

One person needs to know your wrath tonight, though. That is your brother. So you dialed Johnny’s number repeatedly until he answered.

“Why did you sell the house without consulting me?” was your greeting. The ire that you’ve been keeping inside you for hours after knowing the imbecilic decision of your brother rose up in your throat, begging to be unleashed as a scream.

“Well, good evening my dear little sister,” Johnny’s smug reply. You could almost see his sarcastic face in your mind. Before you could speak and bring hell to him, he inhaled and spoke himself, “I didn’t sell the house— well, sort of. But not really. It’s a fifty-fifty negotiation.”

You stood up, your hand on your waist. “I couldn’t believe you, Johnny! Casino? What in the heck were you thinking?”

Johnny cursed from the other line, “So the dick really told you about it?” Then a deep sigh, “Whatever he told you, it’s true. I’ve lost all my money in a game of baccarat. Don’t ask about it, you would not understand,” he uttered, so fast you almost didn’t catch it. Why is everyone thinks you won’t understand that game?

“What about Mom and Dad’s fund? Did you—”

“No! I did not,” Johnny sighed, deeper than the last time. “Well, almost half of it.”

“What?!” The scream that was threatening to come out from your mouth was unleashed, at last. You were afraid the neighbors heard it. “You—! Why did you do that?” You muttered, exasperated. Your knees felt like they would give up any second now, so you grabbed the chair and sat on it while trying to soothe your raging nerves. “That’s for us, Johnny. For our future.”

“I know. It was bad luck, Y/N. I promise, I’m working hard as much as I can to earn the money we’ve lost—”

“You’ve lost,” you repeated.

“Yeah. I’ve lost. Just, let Jaehyun stay for a while. He’s got no one and nothing.”

“What do you mean no one? And nothing?”

“He’s got no family. And no money. He’d lost it at the casino.”

You raised a brow like Johnny would see it, “Johnny, do you know that—” I saw him standing on our doorway, his stomach open and gushing out blood? Sighing, you have decided not to tell Johnny about the bloodied Jaehyun you’ve seen on your doorstep. He would only worry about you, and that’s the least thing you wanted now that your brother is miles away. “Do you know that he showed me a contract saying you sold him the house as payment for the money you owed him?”

Johnny once again cursed, “He’s fucking around with you. I’ll show you the real contract, hang on.”

Then you pulled your phone away from your ear the same time Johnny sent you a message. It was a picture of the real contract. And it was stated in the paper that Jaehyun could stay as long as he wanted in your house until Johnny earned the money he owed him. You knew it. Johnny didn’t sell the house. There is just no way he would do that.

“I knew it. I know you wouldn’t sell our house without discussing it with me.”

Johnny took seconds to speak, “I’d never sell the house, Y/N. No matter what. It’s ours.”

You rolled your lip with your teeth, “Where are you now, though? Are you eating well? Are you alright?”

Your brother chuckled, “I am. Don’t worry about your big brother. Just study and keep your self healthy.”

A pensive sigh was what you answered him. You wished your parents’ funds was enough for the both of you. So, Johnny wouldn’t have to work his butt off working here and there to provide for you.

“Just… take care. Don’t do anything illegal.”

“I won’t. Anyway, I have to go now. I have tons of work to do tomorrow. Call you tomorrow night, ‘kay? Take care, you little devil.”

“Alright. You too. Bye, Johnny.”

Then the line was cut off. You plugged-in your phone’s charger and set up the alarm. Staying up late was a bad idea, especially when you didn’t even have an ounce of sleep yesterday. It was a miracle that you’ve reached midnight without falling on your feet and sleeping on the floors. Dinner also went in the back of your mind, your appetite vanishing because of the adventure you’ve gone through for the past hours.

Going out of the room was out of the choices too. Jaehyun could be sucking an animal or a person’s neck in Johnny’s room for all you know. You frustratedly sighed, your imaginations would be the ones that would kill you, not the potential vampire inside the other room.

To get your mind off things, you checked on your group chat for any messages. Mark and Haechan, as usual, was bickering. Haechan sent a picture of his middle finger above his plates. While Mark sent a picture of the blackest coffee you’ve ever seen in your whole life with a caption, ‘palpitate? I don’t know him’ which elicited a chuckle from you.

As you glanced at your own plates, discarded at the corner near the original position of your drafting table, envy for Haechan and Mark enveloped you. You could have been on the third or fourth floor plan for the five-storey residential if not for Jaehyun.

You turned off your phone and decided to take a quick shower. You badly needed one. Jaehyun’s warning could not even stop you from washing the dried blood on your hands, wrists, over and under your fingernails.

Silence welcomed you as you peek through the door, the television was turned off, which only means that Jaehyun’s already in Johnny’s room. You finally stepped out, towel and robe in your hands.

Inside the bathroom, your shampoo bottle lay discarded on the shower floors, a sign that Jaehyun has emptied the container. You groaned, and threw the container to the trashcan with a loud thump.

As the water cascaded to your hair down your body, you felt the kiss you shared with Jaehyun, jolting your eyes open. What was that? You touched your lips. So many years of indulging yourself about vampires and how to kill them, one kiss and you are slipping off your principles already. What feebleness, you mumbled while slightly slapping your cheek.

After your quick shower, you felt cleaner than ever. No trace of blood could be seen on your hands. You wrapped yourself up with the robe, then your hair with the towel.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Jaehyun drinking a glass of water. You wrapped yourself tighter as you walked past him. He raised a brow but did not say anything. You’ve guessed the discussion about his stay could be accomplish tomorrow. Since you already had been exhausted to the bones, sleep was all you wanted and not another argument.

“Hey.” Jaehyun called out.

You froze for a few seconds before turning around to face him. What is it he wants this time?

“What?”

“What’s your name?” He asked, arms crossed with his body leaning on the counter.

Oh, yes. He hadn’t inquired about your name yet.

“Y/N,” you declared.

Jaehyun stood straight then, pocketing his hands on the pockets of his sweatpants. “The kiss. It means nothing. No need to fret about it.”

You blinked. “I’m not fretting about it.”

“Yeah? Keep telling that to yourself while touching your lips as if you could still feel mine against it.”

All the blood rushed up to your cheeks, you do not doubt you looked like a tomato with eyes right now. “What are you talking about?” Did he peer through some hole while you shower? Did he use his vampire instincts to watch you bathe?

“I didn’t watch you bathe. As I’ve said, you’re not my type. Girls willingly peels off their clothes for me, I don’t need to peek at some hole to see tits and a pussy.”

An unbelievably loud gasp resonated from your mouth, your cheeks heating up again by his bold statement. How did he know your thoughts? “What do you think of yourself? A god?”

A smirk, “Yes.”

“You’re really unbelievable,” you muttered while shaking your head. Then you turned your back on him, not turning around even after hearing his salacious laugh behind you.

—

Heat continued to wrap your body until you kicked the blanket off of you. You slowly opened your eyes, the blinding rays of the sunlight jolting you awake. You needed not glance at your phone to know that you didn’t wake up on time.

Running a hand through your hair, you unplugged the charger from your phone. Several texts from Haechan and Mark were displayed on the screen.

[Already submitted your plate. :)]

[You bugbear, where are you?]

You typed in your reply for Mark, thanking him for submitting your plate for visual techniques. It was the right decision to leave it on his drafting tube. Then you sent a wacky picture to Haechan.

After not getting a reply from the two boys, you stood up and put on your slippers. The chaos of your room was an eyesore. You reminded yourself to clean and get back on planning later.

Jaehyun was nowhere in sight, he wasn’t in the living room nor at the kitchen. Perhaps he’s still sleeping. Or maybe he’s afraid of the sunlight. As you walked straight to the kitchen, you remembered the call you had with Johnny. Someone needs to explain himself today.

A lot of things whirled in your mind as you mix the coffee in your mug. First, you need to confirm whether Jaehyun is a vampire or not. What would you do if he is? Would you kill him? No, he would definitely kill you first if you ever did something as to think about assaulting him. Or maybe… maybe he could help you— on finding the vampire who killed your parents.

Your eyes widened by your realization, the spoon falling to the sink, making a loud clanking noise. Why had you not thought about it earlier? You muttered a curse before sitting. Yes, that would be it. Once you successfully vindicated his vampire nature, you could ask him to collaborate with you in finding the monster who killed your parents. However, Jaehyun looks like he’s going to be a huge pain in the ass. Men like him do not do things without gaining something from it.

“Yes, that’s right.”

You jerked in your seat as you heard Jaehyun. He entered the kitchen like it’s his own, walking straight towards the refrigerator and slamming it shut when he didn’t find what he was searching for.

“Can you not read my mind?” Your annoyed reiteration.

Jaehyun continued his rummaging through the drawers. “I don’t. Your thoughts are just all over the place. Too loud.”

You ignored his comment and focused on your goal instead. All while remembering the things you have learned about vampire’s ability to infiltrate minds and how to block them out of it. “You told me you’re a vampire.”

Jaehyun merely glanced at you, “Did I?” Then he continued his ransacking.

“Yes. Last night.”

He attempted to leave the kitchen, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then he stood still, facing you. “Aren’t you supposed to leave my house now?”

“Oh, speaking of that, I called Johnny last night. You lied to me.” You walked straight to one of the chairs and sat on it, your spoon pointing at Jaehyun’s way. “He didn’t sell you the house. You’re supposed to live here ‘til Johnny earned back the money he owed you.” A wicked smile was displayed on your lips now.

“Whatever. I better not see you again today.”

“This is my house!” You stood up from your seat, the coffee spilling as your hips collided with the table.

“Not anymore. Get out.”

“No.”

“Get out.”

You straightened your back, “What would you do, then?” Knowing that you are walking through a thin thread, still, you pushed on. “Bite my neck and suck my blood?”

Jaehyun huff out a breath, “You’re delusional.”

“You’re in denial.”

It took him two strides to face you, “Shut up.”

“Why? Did it surprise you that you revealed your true nature to a mortal? Mere minutes after meeting her?” You gathered all your willpower to smirk.

“I did not reveal you anything.” He said through gritted teeth.

You have never felt so powerful until you saw Jaehyun’s face right now. “You did. You told me—”

He turned his back towards you and left the kitchen. But your spirit has risen up, your being refractory oozing out of you. You followed Jaehyun to the living room, your hand grabbing his shirt.

Jaehyun jerked your arm away, his face ruddy from irritation when he faced you. “I didn’t tell you shit.”

“If you really didn’t, show me your wound then.” You waved your hand to where his wound was located in his stomach. “The wound that I’ve stitched up last night.”

He seemed appalled, but he quickly recovered, tuning in his smug face at the stroke. “Sorry, but my abs isn’t available at the moment. Try again next time, sweet.”

“Why don’t you just show me?” You voiced out, irritated. Jaehyun sighed and turned his back on you for the second time, but you didn’t budge as you pulled his shirt again. He tried to jerk your hand off of him but you held on.

“Let go!” He continued to wrench his shirt from your grip, the force of his hand pulling you towards the living room with him.

“Show me!”

“Damn it, Y/N! Let go!”

Jaehyun, for the last time, tugged his shirt from your hands, the force pulling you on your knees. Now you knelt face to face with his crotch, but you ignored your awkward position as you held his shirt again, then you caught a glimpse of the wound. It was a wound no more, but a faint scar instead—

“I knew it—!”

“Good mornin—! Oh shit! Oh my God! Y/N!”

You froze as you heard Mark’s shoutings, followed by Haechan’s remarks.

“Hotdog for breakfast, really, Y/N?”

You struggled on your feet, nearly tumbling again as your toe hit the foot of the coffee table. Swallowing the pulsating pain, you fixed yourself and faced your friends.

“It’s not what you think it is—”

“I told her to wait but she’s a spunky little thing, even begging and crawling for it.”

You’ve witnessed as Mark’s mouth formed a big ‘o’, his eyes nearly falling off their sockets. Haechan, beside Mark, only looked at you as if he was already tucking the information at the very back of his mind to blackmail you in the future.  

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy.” You tried to smile despite the embarrassment. “Johnny asked me to take care of him for awhile.”

“Yeah, sure.” Haechan snickered.

You widened your eyes at him then turned it towards Jaehyun, a forced friendly smile painted on your lips. “Just… I know this is hard for you. But stay in your room, okay? I’ll give you milk later. Be a good boy, hmm?”

You saw the irritation in his face, causing you to swallow the chuckle that was threatening to come out off you. For the last time, Jaehyun looked at you with daggers in his eyes before sauntering up to Johnny’s room.

“What was that?” Mark asked, his eyes watching Jaehyun disappear to the other room.

“Johnny’s friend. He’s been on a traumatic past, made him childlike. It’s a pity, really—”

Haechan cut your sentence off by screaming, “Y/N, what the fuck is this?! Blood?!”

Both you and Mark followed Haechan’s sight. Sweat automatically formed in your forehead as you saw Jaehyun’s blood on the sofa, almost black in color because of its dryness.

“Oh! It’s— That’s— ignore that! That’s from Jaehyun’s wound. He cut himself last night— and yes, have you had your coffee yet? Come, let’s have breakfast!” A nervous chortle was elicited from you, then.

Haechan and Mark exchanged glances before sitting on the ottomans.

“No, it’s okay Y/N. We really just came by to check up on you,” Mark declared, his palms on his knees.

Haechan, on the other side, glanced at the blood before looking at you. “Are you alright?”

A spontaneous nod, “Of course. I am!”

“He’s not giving you any troubles, is he?” Mark dug in. You shook your head. Lies. Trouble has been the first thing Jaehyun led on your doors the moment you invited him in. “Since when did he arrive?”

“Last week,” was your terse reply. “Anyways, highways, why are you here?”

Haechan kept looking at the blood, so you rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a clean rug to cover it. Only when it was covered did he answer you.

“We had a notion that maybe you’re sick,” Haechan stated. “And you told us last week Johnny’s away. Besides we don’t have any more classes so we decided to visit,” he added.

“Thank you. But I am not sick. Just woke up really late.”

After talking about your plates, and the reminders two of your professors discussed, Haechan and Mark already bid their goodbyes, no doubt to play computer games. They did not ask about Jaehyun nor the blood on the sofa any further. Instead, they’d asked you numerous times whether you were really okay before making their way out. You answered them both with a slight pat on their backs, reassuring them that all is well even if you weren’t sure of it yourself.

Jaehyun was already sitting on the sofa when you got back inside, his eyes unfathomable as he took in your presence. Suddenly, you remembered his wound, and the scar that was left of it in a span of hours.

“Shall we go back to business?” He raised his brow, an impish smile imprinted on his luscious lips. At your confused look, he attempted to untie the string of his sweatpants, resulting in you, grabbing the pillow and throwing it his way.

“Gross!” You grunted.

“C’mon. Acting all shy now? Where’s the energy from earlier? I like that version of you better.” Then a wink.

You felt the veins of your temple tick. “You’re disgusting.”

“Disgustingly hot?”

“Go to hell, Jaehyun.”

“Working on it.”

Inhale, exhale, was your continuous chant in your mind as you tried to calm your nerves. After a minute of closing your eyes and breathing heavily, you finally had enough sanity to talk to the mad man sitting on your sofa.

“You’re really a vampire.”

Jaehyun let his head fall back, his eyes closed. “I am not,” was his worn out reply.

“How would you explain your wound, then? That’s completely healed not even twenty-four hours after I’ve put it back together?”

“Y/N, don’t you know that I’m God’s favorite? That’s why I heal easily.”

“Will you stop fucking around and confirm it to me instead?” you exhaled. “You’ve already revealed yourself, Jaehyun. And if you don’t want to wake up with the whole world salivating to put a stake through your heart tomorrow, you will listen to me.”

Jaehyun looked affronted, as he furrowed his brows before opening an eye. “Was that supposed to make me shit my pants?”

You sighed, deeper than a well. One minute of talking to Jaehyun and you felt yourself going insane already. “Listen, Jaehyun—”

“Why are you so eager to know whether I am truly a vampire? A normal person would’ve knelt and begged for mercy in front of me if they’d so much as see my fangs.” He sat up straight then, regarding you with interest.

“I am not afraid of your kind.”

Jaehyun chortled, “Says the girl who literally poured vinegar on me while chanting prayers.”

“Speaking of that, how did you repel those? Those are the bane of every vampire’s existence.” You, no doubt, believe your eyes looks like they are twinkling right now.

“You don’t know enough about vampires, then.”

Your years of determined study about the lore of vampires denied Jaehyun’s insult like an instinct. “Or maybe, you are a peculiar vampire,” you reiterated.

“Didn’t admit I was a vampire, did I?”

The conversation was getting exhausting now. You feel as if running and chasing Jaehyun in an endless path that leads to nothing. Vulnerability had a hard time reflecting itself to you, but you feel like you could only reach for the answers to the questions that were circulating your parents’ deaths for years if you showed it to Jaehyun.

“Our parents died years ago.” You tried your hardest not to look at Jaehyun as you started speaking. “They said… it’s a hopeless case. The police, the detectives, and even Johnny already gave up on it. But I refused to do the same.” You cleared your throat. “My parents had two bites on each of their necks. Yes, it could’ve passed as a snake’s bite. But the two of them? A snake bite on their necks? And since when did snakes leave their victim’s body looking withered as a dead plant?” With that, you looked up to Jaehyun.

His eyes were fixed on you, devoid of any emotions. “When did it happen?”

A slight hope ignited in your heart by his question that you answered right after the words tumbled out of his lips. “Ten years ago.”

He sighed before standing up on his feet. “When they said it was a hopeless case, it really was Y/N.”

Boulders on your shoulders, that was what his words felt like. The earth and the heavens felt like closing in on you.

Jaehyun started to walk away. Ice seems to envelope all your hopes. The impact of it was different, as it came from a vampire itself. You looked up to stop the tears that were threatening to roll down your cheeks, but a traitorous tear slid down the side of your one eye, your lips shaking. You wiped it off, as harshly as you could before standing up and sprinting to your own room, the frames rattling by how forceful you shut the door closed.

—

For hours, you sat on your bed, your mind drifting off to nowhere. You refused to cry, it wouldn’t make any difference. The blackboard who has all the articles from newspapers, books, internet news magnetized your line of sight. You stood up, and walked towards it.

As you ran your hands through the crumpled papers, the image of your parents flashed in your mind. You shut your eyes closed, then the tears finally slid down.

“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry.” Your body shook, your shoulders continued to vibrate as you cried. It’s been a while since you let yourself fall. Forcing you to think that the pain of your parents’ deaths has already left. But no, it does not. Time only made it worse.

A scream resonated from your mouth as you let the pain coaxed you. You gripped the papers attached to the blackboard, and wrenched them with enough force to graze your knuckles on the hard surface, the thumbtacks scratching your fingers. Slowly, your body fell to the floors, the coldness of it biting your soles. You hugged your knees as tears continued to come out of your eyes.

Then you heard a knock.

You slowly got up on your feet. Bloodshot eyes greeted you when you looked at your reflection on the mirror. You hastily wiped your cheeks and fixed your hair before sauntering up to the door.

Jaehyun’s façade loomed over the other side.

“What?” You never meant to make the words come out vexed. But Jaehyun displayed a look of hesitation, making you uncomfortable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I might have a solution to your problem.”

Your gripped on the doorknob tightened, your chest constricting. “What… what do you mean?

“I meant… I might’ve a solution to the death of your parents.”

“Really?!” You held his shoulders and shook him.

“Yeah. But before anything else, I need a beer.”

After Jaehyun’s revelation, you fixed yourself and dashed for the nearest convenience store, grabbing his preferred brand of beer and filling your cart with it. You needed to be tight on your expenses after you saw the receipt, but you have no time to care one bit now that you feel elevated more than ever.

When you arrived home, Jaehyun quickly opened the bottle with his hands, while you refrigerate the others. You dashed for the living room after putting all the bottles inside.

“So, what now?” You asked like a little puppy while Jaehyun chugged down his beer.

“I’ll help you in one condition.”

Of course, there’s a condition. Thankfully, you’ve anticipated Jaehyun to be the kind of man that it didn’t surprise you anymore.

“Anything.”

“I’ll live here as long as I want. My clothes, cigs, beers— that’s all on you.” He pointed his finger at you, while holding the bottle in the same hand.

“Don’t you have any cash with you?” You tried to look kind as much as you can. Yet Jaehyun still raised a brow as a no.

“Blame the casino,” he added.

As you reckon his conditions, you grimaced privately. What would you tell Johnny if you started spending your funds? Or when you started asking for money all of a sudden?

“Alright. All your expenses, on me.” You smiled, teeth flashing while pointing at your self.

“I want my own room.”

“I will clean the storage—”

“Your parents’ room.”

With that, you stopped speaking, stopped breathing. “No.”

Jaehyun’s lips turned sideways, “Then the deal is off.” He turned to leave but you grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, alright. Alright. You could sleep there tonight. I will talk to Johnny.”

Jaehyun sat up again, a triumphant smile plastered on his lips. “Nice.”

“How did you know it was my parents’?”

The room was always locked, not when you clean it every once a week. You need not ponder how Jaehyun knew it was your parents, his vampire instincts surely told him. The room was bigger than any of the rooms inside the house, with big curtains making it cozy. There’s no doubt Jaehyun wanted it to be his just by that feature.

“Do I need to answer that?”

You shook your head. “So, how do we find my parents’ murderer?”

Jaehyun took a swig off his bottle before speaking, “Are you certain it’s a vampire?”

You didn’t answer. Instead dashed back to your own room to delve the box tucked underneath your dresser along with the dagger. In it was the picture of your parents in their withered state, the camera captured a shot of their neck, revealing the two bites each of them had. You hurriedly went back to the living room and revealed Jaehyun the pictures.

He took it with oddity, his mouth formed in a tight line. “Vampires. No doubt.”

After all these years, it was confirmed at last. You wanted to shout, but that isn’t pleasant for a time such as this. “I knew it,” you breathily stated.

Jaehyun shuffled the picture in his hands, “Some vampires has a peculiar way of killing their preys. However, the way your parents’ were murdered was no special. This is how the majority of the vampires kills.”

You leaned closer to see the picture yourself, but in a spur of moment felt embarrassed as you remember the kiss you shared, so you shifted away from him. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes. This gave us no clue as to who might be behind this.”

You feel your hopes shattering again. Jaehyun’s next words smashing it to smithereens.

“Vampires are all around Europe, and I do not doubt this town have several vampire clans too.” He continued, “But I know someone who could possibly identify the vampire behind this.” He waved the pictures in front of you, his mouth putting an emphasis to the word ‘possibly’. Your hope rose up in your chest again, despite the reluctance to his statement.

“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!” You stood up, ready to go at any given moment.

“Don’t be so excited, Y/N. He’s not a pleasant view to look at.” Then Jaehyun took one last swig on his bottle before laying it on the table with a thud.

“Anything, anyone, Jaehyun. For my parents.”

Jaehyun shrugged, “Tonight, then.”

“Where do we go?”

“Cemetery.”

—

The sky was pitch black that night, no trace of twinkling white lights could be seen in the heavens. You held your jacket tighter to your body, the howling winds with heavy mists slapping on your face, hazing your skin with little droplets of water.

The cemetery’s entrance loomed over you, the letters in the metal bars embossed with an eerily looking font. You gulped, it’s sinister façade making the hairs on your neck prickle.

“Can’t we go back tomorrow morning?” You pursed your lips after asking. Jaehyun’s eyes was fixed on the name of the cemetery above you. Eternal Rest Cemetery.

“We won’t be able to meet Hubert in daylight,” he explained.

On the way to the cemetery, Jaehyun had given you little informations about the person you would meet tonight. His name is Hubert, Eternal Rest Cemetery’s gravedigger. He didn’t tell you how had he met him, or what does he looked like other than ‘creepy’.

“Why? Isn’t daylight more fitting for meetings such as this one?” You continued to babble as you entered the vicinity. Trying your hardest not to grip Jaehyun’s arms, you unobtrusively walked closer to him instead.  

“I told you, we couldn’t meet him in daylight. And I am not bestfriends with the sun, Y/N.” Jaehyun is clothed with a black shirt, paired with one of Johnny’s sweatpants again, since you haven’t bought him his own yet.

“Why? Aren’t you immune?” You glanced at the several tombstone, waiting for some ghost to show up and grabbed you with them underground. If this scene was accompanied by a smoke, and sinisterly white lights, it could pass as a horror movie already.

The wet tombstone was glinting against the moonlight, muds covering the green grass, leaving it mixed up with brown and green colors.

“How could you keep too many questions in that pretty mouth of yours?” Jaehyun asked, snapping his head at you.

You drew into a sudden halt, flustered by his question. Against the night, Jaehyun looked ashen if not for the redness of his lips, his face was giving off a chalky visage. He looked more vampiric now ever since you saw him.

When you didn’t answer, Jaehyun started to walk again, with you trailing behind him, mindful of the tombstones watching as you passed by.

In front of the rustic metal bars, Jaehyun halted. You stood behind him, observing the size of the space where the gravedigger must have been staying. Jaehyun rattled the bars again, the rust cascading down the grass.

You start as you saw someone penetrated the metal bars. Jaehyun shifted on his position, giving you a better view at the person— or an entity— in front of him. In an instant, you were reminded by the ghosts in Lord of the Rings. Hubert looks like a green smoke, but his whole façade is intact, no missing flesh nor eyes. He is tall, clad in suit like it came from Victorian era. Now you understand why Jaehyun insisted to meet him in night time. A ghosts could not be seen in daylight.

“Hubert! My friend, do you remember me? Of course, you do! Even ghosts wouldn’t forget this face.”

Hubert brushed him off with a stare before nodding his head your way.

Jaehyun waved his hand towards you, “This is Y/N. My friend. She needs something from you.”

Hubert looked at Jaehyun meaningfully, it was like a code you have no chance to decipher. After that, Jaehyun whispered something to him, but the ghosts shook his head.

Jaehyun glanced your way, his face abstruse. Then he held your shoulder, guiding you away from Hubert who remained standing on his spot.

“I forgot to tell you something.” Jaehyun released a curse. “Hubert, he has no tongue.”

You couldn’t help but to release a curse yourself, “What?!”

“If the crime happened in a cemetery, he would surely know the vampire who killed your parents.” Jaehyun took a quick glance at Hubert, “Usually, he would write it down on a paper. But something befell him, with the involvement of dark magic. I could smell it from him, Y/N. He is enchanted.”

This time, it’s you who peeked at Hubert’s tall frame. “I… I don’t know where my parents really died.”

“A higher chance that they were killed here, then.” Jaehyun licked his lips, “Trust me. Vampires around this town usually slays their prey in cemeteries.”

It was a gnawing suspicion at you, the real location where your parents had died. The policemen said it was likely that they were dumped into the crime scene, since their body hadn’t made a pattern on the earth yet. It was distinctly possible that they were killed in a cemetery.

“How could we make him talk?” You bit on your lower lip.

Jaehyun’s eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds before he answered. “He wants you to offer him your own tongue.”

You were thrown off balance by his statement, your words coming out as a loud baffled gasp, you were afraid you would wake up the whole cemetery. “My what?!”  

“So he could talk,” Jaehyun explained like he was talking about the strands of your hair instead of your tongue.

You felt your tongue before speaking, “Is there any other way?”

If cutting your tongue out of your mouth was the only way to identify your parents’ murderer, you’d gladly do it. But you at least need to try for different alternatives, since your tongue is a crucial part for your mission.

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered, he held his finger to quiet you down when you attempted to speak. “We would need to hunt for a witch to enchant him. But I’m telling you now it’s gonna be a lot of work. Witches has already learned how to be cunning and inconspicuous ever since Salem.”

The Salem Witch Trials. You’ve encountered it when you first started reading about vampires. It was a series of prosecutions for people suspected of witchcraft between February 1692 to May 1693 in Massachusetts. Thirty were found guilty, nineteen of them had met the infamous Gallow Hills to die by hanging.

“How did you know all this?”

“It was my on the job training before I completely transformed into a vampire.” Jaehyun declared. You would have nodded since you didn’t know that information when he started to laugh. “Just kidding.”

“Then… do you know any witch that might be in this town?” Your voice was calm and toned down now, not sure if it’s because of your location or the lingering feeling that Jaehyun might think of you as a coward for refusing to lacerate your tongue.

He wiped the sides of his mouth with his fingers, “Yes. I know one. But I don’t think she’s going to see me.”

“Then I’ll talk to her.”

Jaehyun took in your expression and the determination in your face before nodding, “Alright.” Then he turned his head back to Hubert, who has disappeared to his small space behind the metal bars. Jaehyun tried to call for him, but the ghost did not appear again.

“He could be really annoying sometimes.” Jaehyun shrugged.

—

The following days, you tried to get back on your normal life by starting off your plates and pretending as if you hadn’t just met a vampire in your doorstep, and that you didn’t make a deal with that vampire to find your parents’ murderer, and that you hadn’t gone into a cemetery in the middle of the night to talk to some tongueless ghost that might be holding the key to your life’s biggest mystery.

Exhausting, yes. But fulfilling nonetheless. Johnny had no idea about your endeavors, and you do not plan to tell him anytime sooner. You’ve also warned Jaehyun not to mention anything to your brother, which was only answered with a deadpanned expression and ‘I don’t have a phone’ statement.

Jaehyun had his own adventures at night, only returning before the dawn breaks. You did not ask about his business, but you’ve been seeing droplets of blood on his shirt every now and then. The humane part of you wanted to banish him, for threatening the life of other people, but you also didn’t want to offend him. You could not afford him bailing out of your deal.

One night, though, you had no chance to stop yourself when you noticed blood on his shirt.

“Do you kill people, Jaehyun?”

The answer could be no, since there were no news about people being murdered the same way your parents had been.

“Why do you care?” He sounded irritated that you shut your mouth for a moment before pressing on.

“How does their blood tastes like?”

He snapped his head at you, baring his fangs. “Care to offer me your neck so I could answer your question?” With that, he slammed the refrigerator door shut, and stormed out of the kitchen with beer in hand.

You watched as his back disappeared from your sight, his statement leaving puzzles in your mind.

Then you remember a fact about vampires from your books. Yes, they need human blood to sustain themselves. But that does not prohibit them from drinking the blood of other living creatures. Doing so would satisfy their thirst, but it won’t provide them the same power as human blood. Jaehyun’s wound didn’t heal according to his ability to cure himself faster than any being because a continuous doze of animal blood would render their powers weaker.

Which only means that Jaehyun does not drink human blood. A swell of pride bloomed in your heart by the realization. Perhaps he is a vampire, but he isn’t monstrous.

“Here.”

You looked up to Jaehyun, who slammed a paper on your drafting table.

You ignored it. “Can you please knock before barging in my room?”

“Look at what I’ve got.” He ignored your annoyance and motioned his hand on the paper. Only then you took a glance at it. It was an invitation. “Invitation for Madame Juana’s party.”

You stood up from your seat, eyes twinkling. “Isn’t she the witch?!”

The golden print of the invitation was exquisitely inviting that you grabbed and ran your fingers through it. You could not believe Jaehyun got the invitations.

“Yes. It is a formal party, Y/N. We need clothes, especially me.”

“What are you waiting for? Get dressed! We’re going shopping!” You giggled before pressing the invitation between your planning and design’s book.

Two hours before the malls starts to close. You quickly changed and met Jaehyun outside the house. This time, he was wearing a white shirt paired with cargo pants, one you bought him. His dog tag making him hotter than he already is.

You tried not to focus on him as you got on the bus. Jaehyun sat beside you, while you sat near the window. Then the memory of the bus you rode in weeks ago suddenly drawing to a halt went crashing back in your mind.

“Jaehyun… weeks ago. Did you… cross the streets all of a sudden?” You decided to ask. It doesn’t change anything, you were just curious since there’s a high chance he was the one who crossed the street that night, fast as a lightning.

“Yes,” was his uninterested reply. You nodded and didn’t press any further. But when you shifted to look at the view outside the vehicle, Jaehyun spoke. “Were you hurt?”

He didn’t ask how did you know. It was obvious that you were inside that bus. Slightly perplexed by his question, you shook your head. “No.”

“Did I hurt anyone?” His eyes were fixed forward, not bothering to glimpse at you.

“No. You did not.”

“We’re here,” he announced before the bus halted in front of the mall.

—

“Jaehyun, could you please slow down?” You hissed while tugging your too-tight dress further down you knees.

Jaehyun was walking ahead of you as if he was being chased by a wild cat. The painful feeling of your heels against your soles flaming your agitation. Madame Juana’s party was a formal one. And it’s not as if you could not walk with heels, you could perfectly do that even if you put a book on the top of your head. But Jaehyun’s strides makes it harder for you to do so.

The stygian corridors of Madame Juana’s mansion makes it harder for you to navigate with your too-tight dress and dangerously thin red bottoms. What literally came into her mind to decide not to put lightbulbs in her corridor? Your question was answered when you saw the light from the hall infiltrating through the open curtains at the end of the corridor. A touch of anticipation.

Jaehyun held up his hand at you when you’ve finally reached him.

“Hurry! It’s starting!” His breath fanned your cheeks as you entered the party, making you blush all of a sudden. He was clad in a simple black suit, which took a huge amount from your allowance. Despite that, he towered most of the men in the hall once you entered.

Jaehyun is simply ravishing.

Eyes from both women and men bore into his façade as you walked through the throngs of guests. Some whispering about his vampire nature, and some giggling by how good he looks like. It made you realized that this party wasn’t meant for mortals.

The orchestra was playing a forlorn music from the other side of the made platform, unfitting for a party such as this one.

“Madame Juana’s mortal husband died.” Jaehyun whispered all of a sudden, an explanation for the question you’ve asked only to yourself.

“Why is she throwing a party then?”

“Because she’s happy. She’s collected a number of rich husbands in the span of her life, Y/N.” He leaned closer, his minty breath whiffing your nose again.

You cleared your throat, trying to make your voice little. “How old is she?”

A waitress passed by, offering you a margarita. You gladly took one with a nod of thanks.

“Five hundred years old.”

You almost spat your drinks, eyes widening. “Five hundred years old?”

Jaehyun only nodded. The music halted, magnetizing your focus on the woman at the top of the stairs. She was clad in the finest silk, her skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood. If you didn’t know that she was a witch, you would think of her as a vampire.

“Don’t say that to her face later,” Jaehyun warned before clapping his hands.

You ignored his enraging ways to read your mind and started to clap your hands together. Madame Juana started to descend the stairs, her silk gown moving like ocean waves. She does not look like a five-hundred year old witch. Rather, she only looked like a few years older than you.

One of the waitresses handed her a mic, you were mesmerized by how her lips moved as she welcomed everyone who has attended his late husband’s first month death anniversary.

After her warm reception, the forlorn music became jovial. The guests started to chatter in loud voices, while Madame Juana greeted each of her visitor.

Jaehyun stood still beside you, watching the Madame like a predator… or a prey. And as if Madame Juana felt Jaehyun staring at her, her eyes suddenly shifted towards the both of you. You start in your position, feeling as if your muscles are strained. The Madame raised her hand, which is holding a glass of red wine, towards you. Jaehyun imitated her actions, and you have no other choice but to join them as they toss their glasses to the air.

You sipped on your drinks, the same time the music shuffled and then all you could hear was the Waltz of the Flower by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Most of the guests gathered between the hall, and they started to dance. You know the piece yourself. Your mother loved it so much, teaching you how to slow dance with it when you were little.

Awestruck by the pairs of dancing bodies on the dance floor, you did not notice Jaehyun stretching out his hand to you until you blinked out of oblivion and saw him watching you with a small smile painted on his lips.

“Will you give me the pleasure to dance with you, milady?”

A hearty chuckle resonated from your throat before taking Jaehyun’s hand. He guided you towards the dance floor, securing you with his hands.

“I am not good at dancing,” you warned him with a chuckle.

Jaehyun laughed, “Let’s fall together then.”

Eyes locked with Jaehyun, you let yourself leave your worries behind for a while. You stepped on Jaehyun’s feet every now and then, but he only brushed it off with a chuckle. After a few minutes on the dance floor, you regained your footing along with the memories of the steps your mother taught you. Jaehyun spun you around with an ease of a professional.

The chandeliers painted Jaehyun’s face with a light that wasn’t meant for a creature such as him; it made him more human, more real. His dashing aura blinding you, together with his smile. All of a sudden, you forgot the bloodied man in your front porch weeks ago, replaced by a new Jaehyun. It felt like it was the first time you were seeing him.

You chuckled. Both of your laughters mixing with the music, pulling you into bliss. You hadn’t noticed when most of the guests drew into a halt, leaving a few pairs together with you and Jaehyun on the dance floor.

The both of you were catching your breaths when the music stopped, the claps of the visitors making you smile.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

Your smile was easily replaced by a flustered expression when the visitors started to chant. Jaehyun mischievously glanced at you, deepening the redness of your cheeks.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

All the chants were muffled as Jaehyun grabbed the back of your head. Your eyes widened, muscles frozen. You closed your eyes and waited for his lips to touch yours, but nothing came.

Someone cleared her throat. You opened your eyes and saw Madame Juana walking towards you. She smiled, pearlescent white teeth flashing.

“Nice to see you here, Y/N.” Then she gave you a peck on the cheek before turning her eyes to Jaehyun. Her smile quickly dropped to a frown as she took in his aura. “And you. Jung Jaehyun.”

Her smile returned when she looked at you again, “Come. Let’s talk about your parents.”

Madame Juana led you through a corridor across the entrance you walked in earlier. Unlike the other one, the corridor was flashing with lights, almost blinding you. She opened the door at the end of it. Stacks of books and bookshelves filled your sight as you blinked and refocused your eyes.

“As you can see, I have too many visitors to entertain tonight. Talk.” She waved her fingers languidly as Jaehyun closed the door behind him.

“We need your help to enchant a tongueless gravedigger,” you started.

Madame Juana sat, her eyes looking straight at yours. “I’ll help you.”

Your happiness swelled up as you didn’t expect her to easily cooperate.

“In one condition.” She propped her chin onto her palm.

“Anything!” You took a step towards her, laying your palms on the top of her table. Jaehyun followed and stood beside you.

“Kill Alena for me.”

Jaehyun tensed, his mouth formed in a thin line. “You are insane.”

You widened your eyes at him in warning and turned your head towards Madame Juana instead. “Who is this Alena?”

When she attempted to speak, Jaehyun cut her off, providing you the answers himself. “She’s the head of the Detritius clan of vampires.”

You shot Juana a look. “What makes you think I could kill her?” Even if driven by madness, you still could not. Right now, you doubt your skills— you doubt even your determination.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” She raised her finger towards Jaehyun to shut him up. “I’ve cursed Alena to die in the hands of a mortal. Your goal to make the gravedigger speak is fitting to my intentions. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think? Not unless you’re ready to slash your own tongue out of your mouth.” She smiled her alluring smile.

You took a glimpse at Jaehyun. He was shaking his head at you, but this is your chance. It’s preposterous, but it is the only way. You shut your eyes for a moment and took deep breaths before facing Juana again.

Then you nodded.

“Perfect!” She clasped her hands. “Visit me again tomorrow, so we could talk about it in details. Don’t worry, I’m not sending you to war without weapons, darling.” She stood up and brought her hand to your cheek, caressing it. “Now get out. Both of you.”

You did as you were told, your heart hammering against your chest. Jaehyun did not speak to you until you’ve reached the outside of the mansion and until you grabbed his arm.

“Jaehyun—”

He sighed, “Y/N, I’m not sure about this one.”

You released a breath, “Why? Jaehyun, you can’t bail—”

“Alena… I am bound to her.” He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes suddenly seeing the ground more interesting than you.

You took a step back. His words blowing you out of proportion. “I don’t understand.”

Only then he looked up to you, his eyes reflecting something you could not decipher. “Y/N, Alena is my fiancée.”

#jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

[wirsindkrieg]

Fuck it. Rant time.

I’ve recently discovered the term KFF (“kin-for-fun”) for describing people who appropriate otherkin terminology to describe things which have never actually fallen under the “otherkin” umbrella. Things like roleplaying, identifying with a character (as opposed to as the character), and voluntary identification, among other things. This group also has a trend of telling existing otherkin, including those who have been in the community for some time, that we’re “taking kinning too seriously” and that we need to chill out and let them do what they want. This isn’t a new phenomenon, but it’s getting way out of hand.

I’ll admit to being a relatively new face in the community, having only properly joined in mid-2017. I’ve been otherkin my whole life, though, even before I had the vocabulary to describe my experiences. Gaining that vocabulary, and being able to connect with people who have similar experiences, has been incredibly good for me. It helps me find my center, to understand myself and how I perceive and interact with the world around me. Being non-human is central to my identity because it influences almost everything about me, and there is no way to separate myself from my alterhumanity that wouldn’t be incredibly harmful to me.

As much as people seem to hate this comparison, imagine you’re a young trans person. You’ve just been introduced to the LGBT community, and you’ve managed to find one or more labels that describe your experiences and help you understand yourself and your place in the world. Now imagine a group of cis people who do drag coming along and telling you that you’re taking being trans too seriously, and that being trans is all about presenting as a gender, rather than being that gender. I’d like to think we can all agree that would be an incredibly shitty thing, both in that it’s shitty to try redefining the trans experience that way, and in that it’s incredibly hurtful to any trans people dealing with it.

A small aside to head off anyone wanting to jump to saying “It’s not hurting anyone to say kinning is [insert new definition here]!” There is a distinction between “harmful” and “hurtful”. It may seem a subtle distinction, but it is there. While trying to redefine “otherkin” may not be inherently harmful, it can still be hurtful, in that it hurts to be told that we don’t belong in our own community, one that was built on a certain type of experience that we all share, and which is excluded from the (attempted) new definition.

The otherkin community has always been stigmatized, in a manner not dissimilar from the stigma surrounding the furry community. Otherkin have been treated as “cringe”, told we’re delusional, and generally treated like we deserve to be shit on for having non-human experiences. Now we’re being told that we should abandon the terminology we built to help us find people with similar experiences, so that we can share those experiences and better understand ourselves. We’re being told that we’re taking our identities too seriously, that we should let people push us out of the spaces we built for ourselves because people want to have fun with our labels. And yet even when we put it in those terms, we’re treated like we’re the assholes, told that we’re “gatekeeping” by telling people not to misuse our lexicon.

Another small aside: There is a distinction between “oppressed” and “stigmatized”. Otherkin are not oppressed, in that we aren’t treated as lesser or pushed aside by society for being otherkin. That doesn’t mean we can’t be stigmatized, though. We still get shit on for our identity, and the fact that “anti-kin” is even a term says something about the volume of hate our community receives. Not to mention the number of blogs dedicated to making jokes at our expense, or in some cases bullying otherkin who are seen as too “weird” or “cringe”. If you want to try denying that otherkin are stigmatized, you’re free to try justifying it to yourself, but the evidence is incredibly clear on this one.

Now, I’m willing to give the benefit of the doubt on a lot of this, and work under the assumption that the root of this problem is some combination of a lack of information, and the presence of misinformation. “Always assume a mistake before assuming malice”, or my preferred variant “cock-up before conspiracy.” And I’m a firm believer that the solution to ignorance is education, because without information about how things need to change, it’s difficult at best to change in a positive direction. The problem is that many members of the community have tried educating, have tried pointing out that the terminology being misused already has an agreed upon definition (which has been agreed upon for quite some time), have pointed to other, existing terms that actually match what’s being described. And time and again, those attempts at education are dismissed and ignored. We’ve tried being diplomatic and kind, and clearly that’s not getting us anywhere.

Anyways, the point of this rant is to say this: I am sick and tired of being told I have to redefine my identity because some people have decided that they want to take over an established community. I’m done hearing people tell me that I take my identity too seriously, and that I need to be okay with losing a community that has done me a lot of good. And I’m very, very pissed off that people are, intentionally or not, making it harder for people with serious non-human identities to find other people like them, to come together and have the kinds of discussions that help us understand ourselves and our place in the world. Make your own terminology, form your own community, and get our words out of your mouth.

And if that makes you feel attacked, like you’re being called out? I want you to stop and think, and I mean seriously think, about why being told to stop redefining someone else’s experience is so important to you. And if after that thinking you still want to argue? Feel free to start something. I’m always happy to educate.

#otherkin #alterhuman #kin #kffs #fictionkin #rant/rave #Ask box is open

[trzee]

yeah i agree in general there are a lot more reasonable takes here than on twitter. like personally genuine irl shipping (like.. actually believing they are together or even fanart/fics) makes me cringe for some reason even though i respect ppl’s art and know they don’t care and i don’t have a problem with most shippers. however the way dnf act /is/ funny and weird and i like their dynamic, so it’s much easier for me to get people talking about that reasonably (whether they ship it or not!) on this site which is why i’m here. the only thing that makes me uncomfortable on here are like very detailed analyses that can come across as kinda delusional and obsessed (like in a larry way where people believe he has a fake child or whatever lmao) but those are pretty rare.

on twitter, i feel like there’s a small amount of people who are hardcore shippers, some of who are very nsfw. again, i get dnf are okay with it, but also in every example dream has given for nsfw stuff it was that he thought it was weird to complain about because you would have to go looking for it to find it, which i feel like isn’t the case now that people are doing that out in the open on a site they interact with. the rest of twitter imo are largely /j shippers who get away with saying weird, unfunny, and out of pocket stuff directed at them by adding a /j (ie “george is a bottom!!!1 /j”) i feel like they’re in denial about being irl shippers or something and have a little bit of a parasocial relationship which leads to them being weird about boundaries because they think they’re just joking with their friends or something. i’ve also seen people cite their friends making jokes about dnf as reasons why they should also be able to reply with these jokes to them, but the underlying difference is like you guys are not their friends and i highly doubt any of their friends actually think they’re together or interested in each other lol.

i’m not trying to draw their boundaries for them (also like george literally bait posted yesterday he kissed dream so lmao) but as a bystander it’s weird and tbh cringey to me to see people replying to every tweet with weird shit that even as a joke is overdone and unfunny lol. sorry this got kinda out of hand it’s just i started on twitter and now can’t interact with it because of the weirdness i get such bad second hand embarassment even tho i know a lot of these people are kids. imo twitter just sucks as a platform for fandom stuff that i feel like should be separate from the ccs. sorry if this is too much or unwanted but here is my perspective as someone who is uncomfortable with irl shipping

always feel free to share your opinions with me as long as you’re being respectful! i don’t mind talking about such things. :]

imo i don’t think shipping is that much of a big deal, like i’ve been part of fandoms since 2011? to give you an idea, i used to read fics on livejournal, so i’ve seen the worst of the worst, i’ve literally been kissed by the fires of hell, and now everything that i’ve seen so far is pretty mild, especially here, i’ve never really encountered nsfw fanart or fics thrown around on twitter (these are usually on ao3 which i consider to be okay since cc’s are not lurking there like they’re on twitter). 

luckily, people got educated and learned how to ship irl people in a healthy way. 

the first time i encountered such gate keeping against shippers was here. i was so surprised it was almost a cultural shock to me, but i think that this amount of gatekeeping comes from the fear of what has happened to other celebrities/ccs that got shipped; and also, dream and george are very active on twitter and they know everything that goes on the fandom. 

which i agree that there are things that should be kept hidden from them, like fanfics - which didn’t work out that well since george ended up reading heat waves anyway, but he found it because people were always talking about it and disrespecting the author’s wish. (and i can’t tell you how happy i am that they didn’t react like assholes about it, and dream even dm’ed the author talking about how much of a good author she is) 

it’s weird for me because i’m part of a fandom that is twice (or even bigger) than the size of mcyt, and they’re pretty chill (of course you have the bad apples as always), but the community for mcyt on twitter is on another level of shitty. i almost gave up on keeping up with george and dream because of them, they have a cult like mentality where they think they are famous celebrities or something just because they’ve been on the fandom for a long time, which actually means nothing lol and i do agree with you that most of twt that is like “george kisses dream /j” is actually someone that ships them but doesn’t want to admit it because they’re afraid people will make fun of them, but the thing is if you’re old enough and you know how to respect content creators as human beings, you can ship them and continue to do your own stuff without it becoming something weird.

#zee answers #critical #cw negativity #long post

[zwritestuff]

Some Things Are Bound To Be (Chapter Seven) - Kyara

A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, I've been going crazy with school, but I'm almost free, and true to my fashion, I wrote this instead of sleeping 😌 It's fine, I'm fine. Hopefully y'all like the chapter, thanks to Emerald ( @fromthenorthernskies​ ) for beta-ing! We're nearing the end, but these dumbasses still can't figure their shit out.

Read on AO3.

***

Priyanka doesn’t slap her when she tells her, though she wants to. Badly.

“You stupid bitch,” she exclaims, invading her personal space as she leans foward, mouth agape. Kyne doesn’t know if she should laugh or push her away, so she does the next logical thing and shoves Priyanka off, reaching for the bowl of chips. “You like her, but you’re gonna break up with her? Kyne, what the fuck.”

Kyne cringes only a little, partially because she’s sure even the people from the other building are able to hear Priyanka’s annoyed yell, and she knew this would be her reaction the moment the words left her mouth. The moment she had gotten that message from Kiara, she knew their scheme was bound to end—what else could she possibly want to talk about? Not the weather, obviously and not-- not Kyne’s stupid fantasy of a love confession, definitely not that.

So, only one option was left, and the clearest one at that. Kyne couldn’t bear the anticipation pooling at the pit of her stomach, so she did the next logical thing and invited Priyanka over, otherwise she would’ve ended up without nails by Monday.

She sighs a little, not letting the defeat show in her face.

“Not everything has a happy ending, Pri. And, y’know, we could still be friends, I guess.” Kyne shrugs, taking a mouthful of chips, and Priyanka knits her brows in a frown, silent for a moment too long. Kyne tenses.

Oh no. Priyanka, silent? Something is coming. Most likely, something Kyne won’t like to hear.

“No,” Priyanka finally says, quizzically. Kyne cocks a brow, setting the chips bowl back on the coffee table. 

“No?” She repeats.

Priyanka gives her a look; not a fiery one, like she always has when she’s about to give her a heartfelt speech when she feels like she might need one. No. It’s hard to put a finger on the emotion she’s looking at her with, but it’s neither pity nor concern—it might just be easier to call it a Priyanka-esque look. 

“No, this isn’t like you at all,” she says, folding her arms, an accusatory tone dripping from her tongue. Ah, shit. Not another pep-tak. “Fuck, if you were to tell me years ago that Kyne, the one bitch that stuck up to fucking Professor Brooke Lynn Hytes back in college, because she knew she had graded her papers wrong, would even think of giving up on a girl she likes, just because she might get in trouble with her parents I woud tell you to fuck right off, because that’s not my friend. Not at all.”

Kyne groans, rolls her eyes and grabs the nearest pillow to smash her head against. It annoys her that Priyanka is right, again. She hasn’t let her live down the fact she had to tell her she liked Kiara for her to realize, to begin with. And she’s convinced she’s never going to hear the end of it when--

--when there’s a pat on her head, and a heavy sigh.

She looks up and sees Priyanka, gazing at her with a more understanding gaze. She doesn’t look like she wants to strangle her—not for now, at least.

“You should tell her, y’know,” she says, with a tone that conveys she knows she’s right. Kyne knows she is, and she hates it. Priyanka might be stupid sometimes, but she’s stupidly cunning—for important things, anyway. And this, Kyne thinks, she’s deemed important.

So she just avoids her gaze, fidgeting with her hands. “But what if it’s not mutual? What do I do then? She’ll think I only accepted to be her fake girlfriend to use her.” She chews the inside of her cheek. It had been more than a recurring thought ever since she realized her feelings for Kiara, and more than once it had slipped through her mind. The idea that Kiara would just straight up stop talking to her if she thought she’d been used this whole time. That, or she would be fired on the spot.

(Bo’s words still run through her mind every so often, and it’s becoming rarer and far in between the times when she lets Kiara touch her in any way. Because if she does, Kyne’s not sure if she would be able to hold back.)

Priyanka groans, pulling and pinching the skin under her eyes. “God, I know you’re-- that we are lesbians, but god damn, not even I am this useless, and I’ve been pining for Kiara’s secretary for months now!”

“You’ve been pining for Lena?” Kyne echoes, but Priyanka dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t change the topic, that’s my job, and I don’t wanna change it now. What I mean, is that Kiara definitely likes you, but you’re literally the last to know. Again.”

Kyne blinks, what Priyanka said not fully sinking in just yet. Then, she bushes furiously, much like the first time, and shoves Priyanka.

“No she doesn’t.”

“Oh my God, I will actually murder you one of these days.” Priyanka pinches the bridge of her nose, and then looks at her with a tired expression. “Yes, she fucking does. You literally spend all your time with her, and you haven’t picked up on the way she looks at you? I swear it’s the most stupid, lovey-dovey look I’ve ever seen, I’m disgusted just thinking about it,” she says, making faces and pulling her tongue out, and it really doesn’t help the blush that takes power in Kyne’s cheeks.

Dear Jesus, not another thing Priyanka had been able to pick up on her relationship with Kiara before her. She should get her a date with Lena, maybe that way she’ll stay out of her business.

But right now, there’s really no escaping Priyanka, since this is her own apartment, and she can’t kick her out at 1 a.m., so she sits through the scolding with an annoyed glare that Priyanka can’t care less about.

“Pri, stop, I get it; I’m dumb, blind, whatever. I know,” Kyne finally says, stopping Priyanka’s pointless rant about Kyne being the biggest useless lesbian she knows. She sighs heavily, knowing Priyanka won’t like what she’s about to hear. “And as much as I’d like to believe you, I don’t wanna risk my job, just because you’re delusional again.”

Priyanka yelps, slightly offended, and squints at her. “You know she can’t fire you just because, right?” She asks slowly, and Kyne scoffs. Of course she knows. But if she fired girls she slept with and no one batted an eye, then what are the odds she’ll be any different?

She tells Priyanka what Bo told her in big details, and she looks at her in disbelief.

“Fuck all the way off, that’s not true.”

Kyne cocks a brow, “How do you know?”

“Because Bo hates Kiara’s guts since her father fired one of her friends, but, like, they were on their right to fire her. She was purposely sabotaging projects, I think it was because her sister had married some dude owner of a rival company; the details are kinda blurry.” Priyanka folds her arms, an accusatory glance twinkles in her eyes, though it’s not directed at her, not really. “Didn’t you know? It’s all she talks about since you became closer with Kiara.”

Kyne blinks repeatedly, not really believing what she’s just heard. Priyanka’s stare is burning a hole through her, expecting an answer, but Kyne swears there’s white noise engulfing her, numbing her; the only thing she feels are her nails digging in her palms.

Bo lied to her? How could she? Even if she didn’t like Kiara, she had no right to lie to her; especially knowing full well she’d believe her. They were friends, after all.

Well, maybe tomorrow they won’t be.

“Why— why would she lie to me? I don’t get it.”

She knows Bo is as fiercely protective as she’s petty, holding grudges until she forgets why she was mad in the first place. But this? This is a low blow.

Priyanka shrugs, not really sure either. “I don’t know, girl, but she must have a good explanation. This doesn’t sound like her at all,” she offers, and Kyne desperately hopes she’s right.

She would never be able to forgive Bo for making her replace all the eagerness and comfort she felt around Kiara with panic and heightened fear of losing her job, every time their hands brushed and Kiara’s tentative fingers tried to reach for her.

Well, maybe she would, but it would take many apologies and a drink or three. Or maybe a whole bottle.

***

Monday morning comes around, and Kyne tries to not break the foam cup with Kiara's coffee with her tight grip, anxiety pooling in her stomach at the sole thought of what she's about to do.

Priyanka spent the entire night trying to convince her to just tell Kiara about her feelings, to woman up and rip the bandaid at once without much thinking. Kyne had finally relented only when they were about to fall fast asleep, and the alcohol was making the room spin ever so slightly, as she decided she didn't have anything to lose by telling Kiara of her feelings.

If she ended up losing her job, Priyanka had said she could hook her up with one of her cousins, a well-respected lawyer, so they could sue the Schatzis for all they had. Of course she wished they didn't have to go to that extreme, and even dared to dream of a movie-like moment.

Of course, dreams are a thing completely different in reality, she reminds herself of that when she lets herself in Kiara's office, briefly greeting Lena and sliding past her, who doesn't even give her much of a glance.

(At some point Lena stopped caring about her, even developed a sixth sense to know whenever she was around to not waste her time in telling her to wait a second so she could tell Kiara she was coming.)

Kiara is already scribbling something on a notepad, holding her phone to her ear with her other hand, and Kyne knows that by the scowl plastered on her face she should wait a second before saying anything.

But then she glances up, her expression easing up in a second as a smile blooms on her face, signaling her to sit down, doing silly faces when she points at the phone, and she wants to laugh stupidly loud because anything Kiara does she finds endearing, but they'll have time for that later.

“They were out of chocolate chips, so I brought you a blueberry muffin,” Kyne says once she hangs up, omitting the part of her knowing blueberry is her second favorite flavor, because she mentioned months ago and she never forgot. She can say that later, so she just passes her the paper bag with the muffin and her cup of coffee. 

Kiara smiles at her, saying a polite thank you as she gives the muffin a bite, leaning back on her chair, looking already tired of work when it's barely starting.

There's silence for a moment too long, where they just eat and sip, but nothing lasts forever, so Kiara is the one to break it.

“I think you'll remember I wanted to talk about something,” she begins, and Kyne nods, prompting her to go on. She's too confident in what she's about to say, thinks they're on the same page. 

Nothing prepares her for when Kiara leans forward, the smile all but gone and replaced with a neutral expression, and Kyne just knows something is bad. That this won't end like she wants.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she continues, fidgeting with her rings, avoiding her gaze. When she locks eyes with her, there isn't any hint of the warmth and kindness is used to see in them. They're hollow, void of any emotion. Her throat closes up in anticipation. “And I think you're right, we should end this pretend relationship before it goes too far.”

Kyne blinks, once then twice, until she's awkwardly staring at Kiara, digging her nails in her palms.

Fuck, she thinks. And for a long second her mind is just a loop of the word fuck. This isn't even Kiara's doing, it's hers, her own words and actions came back to bite her in the ass, and there's no way she can blame Kiara for wanting to call it quits after she snapped at her.

Her plans are gone to waste, there's no way she can bring up the way she feels about her after this. It just wouldn't be right. So she does the next thing she knows best; she deflects.

“Well, I mean, do you think it's been enough time for people to not get suspicious?” She manages to stutter out, trying for the love of her dignity to not let the quiver in her voice give away the tears that are to come at some point.

Her nails dig in her palms further, probably drawing blood, when Kiara just shrugs. Like she doesn't care. And it stings like a bitch.

“Does it matter? For all I know, we've done more than enough. I think it's a good time to stop before-- it's just the time.” Kiara clears her throat, and Kyne wants to ask before what, before she falls even more in love with her, if that's even possible? 

So she inhales sharply, taking a long sip from her coffee, finishing it all in one motion, and tries to not let it show in her expression how much it actually affects her.

“For all I know, I really liked being your fake-girlfriend,” she confesses, and it's not really a lie, but it isn't the entire truth. Kyne did like every second of it, even if at the beginning her mind was clouded with anxiety and fears, she liked having lunch with her and spending time together outside work hours, liked when she laughed so hard she ran out of air, and her nose scrunched up and she made a weird sound that she said she was ashamed of. She liked when she'd absent-mindlessly run her hands through her hair when they were watching a movie together, and it would send shivers down her spine. 

(And Kiara, she just likes all about Kiara. She likes Kiara.)

It’s just that, for a fleeting moment, she hoped they could be real, that even if Priyanka was wrong and Kiara didn’t like her back, she could grow to like her.

Maybe she could’ve loved her if she had been given the chance. Maybe she could’ve loved her either way, if she had been given more time. Maybe she could’ve loved her.

(She could’ve.)

“You can keep my cupcake, I'm not hungry,” Kyne says, giving her a smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, one that probably looks forced and not at all real, but she can’t be bothered right now. Not when she feels her heart ache and a lump in her throat prevents her from speaking. 

Kiara just blinks, about to say something else when Kyne leaves without saying anything; she knows the second she opens her mouth, a choked sob would come out.

In exchange, Kiara doesn’t say anything to her for the rest of the day, and the day becomes the week, and it stings deeply in Kyne’s chest. She was so close to saying it, to stop letting the words linger in the air and manifest them. 

But it’s over now. So suddenly and abruptly, and it's all her fault.

Kyne supposses it’s her own fault for not being honest sooner, for letting the lies numb her good judgement. She knew Kiara, it was impossible that she was capable of any of the things Bo said she did were true, and yet—

She shakes her head, trying to concentrate on her job.

Kiara not talking to her isn't the end of the world she thinks it is, even if it feels like it. She'll eventually get over it, find someone new and forget she ever felt something for her. 

But God, it's easier said than done, when she sees her every day around the company, and for once she knows where the rumours of her being cold hearted come from; she doesn't see her crack a smile once. Not even the tiniest smirk, and if Kyne didn't know better she'd say the two women she's always hanging out with look at her when she passes by with an annoyed glance. 

Kyne wants the earth to open and swallow her whole. 

By the second week of silence, she catches Kiara's glance on her way to a meeting by pure chance; she's looking at Bo, who's telling her about this guy from Tinder she's been seeing, just when Kiara is coming out from another office. Their eyes meet for a fleeting moment, and it digs a deeper hole in her chest when she finds they're still void of any emotion.

Fuck, she misses her so much. Kyne swears she could cry right there and then if she didn't have to speak at a stupid budget meeting for a new project.

“So is it true?” Bo says enigmatically, and Kyne cocks a brow.

“What?”

“That you and Miss Bitch Heiress broke up.” She stops in her tracks, shit, news fly fast, don't they? Bo gives her a pitiful smile and a pat on the shoulder, but Kyne swats her hand away.

“Don't act like you didn't want this to happen,” she snarls, resuming her walk. She hasn't brought up that she knows she lied to her, because that implies reminding herself how much she royally fucked up, so she's been avoiding it. Kyne sure has a talent for avoiding her problems until they blow up in her face.

“Well, I sure as hell didn't want you getting hurt because of her,” Bo tries to defend herself, but Kyne just rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” she merely replies, not looking at her, hurrying her steps, feeling a lump growing in her throat by the second. 

It bottles up, like it always does, even though she promised Priyanka she'd try to let it out. The thing is, as much as Kyne knows she can trust Priyanka, it's not like she isn't constantly worried of being a burden with her feelings ever since Kiara called their pretend relationship quits, so she tries to limit the amount of things she tells Priyanka. 

She doesn't tell her she barely sleeps, that she can't see cupcakes without feeling nauseous, that she picks up her pace when she walks by the restaurant she took Kiara to for the first time - that she's even contemplated burning the damn dress she bought her. That it pains her to look at it every time she opens her closet and sees it hanging there, among her other clothes, because it sticks as a sore thumb out and it reminds her of how happy she was that night with her. 

It all bottles up, and admittedly, she should've known better than to drink her feelings away.

It's Friday night, and they're at a new bar that opened around Scarlett's place. She's actually put effort in her appearance, curling her hair and picking one of her prettiest dresses, done her best eyeshadow in ages—and yet, no amount of tequila shots can fill up the void she feels in her chest.

She ends up crying and admitting how she really feels when she accompanies Priyanka outside for a quick smoke that turns into a full therapy session. Or well, something akin to it.

“I miss her,” Kyne cries out, Priyanka wipes the tears away before the rimmel ruins her whole face.

“I know,” she replies simply.

“Shit, should I call her now and tell her everything?” Priyanka groans, visibly cringing.

“Baby, gimme your phone, you’re not calling anyone at three a.m. unless it’s an Uber,” she says, reaching to grab Kyne’s phone, and for a drunk person she’s far too quick to move her hand away.

“But--”

“Listen, bitch, you know I love talking and giving pep talks,” Priyanka cuts her off, “But, I am sure you would forget it by the morning, so we’re not having this conversation right now.”

Kyne rolls her eyes, folding her arms; why Priyanka has to be right even when both are one shot away from being drunk out of their minds? It’s not fair.

“So, now that’s sorted out,” she says, stomping on her cigarette, “We’re going home bitch, I can’t have you following me around the bar looking like a raccoon,” Priyanka speaks matter-of-factly, and Kyne gasps offended, swatting her arm. But she ends up giving in when she unlocks her phone and sees what her tears have done to her rimmel.

They go back inside to find the others to tell them that they’re leaving, and Kyne doesn’t have time to think of an excuse to give Scarlett as to why her eyes look puffy when Priyanka tells them what happened. Scarlett immediately coos and wraps her in a clumsy hug, saying how sorry she is, that she looked so happy with Kiara, she never would’ve imagined it would end so soon.

“Bobo, shut the fuck up before I cry again,” she warns, half-jokingly, half-serious. Scarlett lets her go, but a decided look settles on their face.

“Fuck no bitch, you need us now; we’re all goin’ back to my place, and we’re not lettin’ you go to sleep until you crack a smile-- and stop lookin’ like a damn raccoon.”

“I don’t look like a raccoon!” Kyne yelps, offended.

“Yes, you do,” Bo pipes up, and Kyne grumbles while her friends laugh at her expense.

So, they make their way back to Scarlett’s apartment, arms linked as they talk about anything that comes up to their minds to distract Kyne. And it works, she laughs until her stomach hurts, and tears pool at the corner of her eyes, except they’re not sad tears this time, and she feels so grateful for her friends as she kicks off her shoes, and Scarlett drags Priyanka to help them re-arrange things in her room to fit everyone.

She’s left alone with Bo, who’s been rather silent towards her these past days. Kyne knows why, but she isn’t sure right now it’s the time to bring it up.

Of course, nothing ever goes like she wants it to, so Bo clears her throat before speaking.

“Kyne, listen, I have something to tell you--”

“I know,” Kyne cuts her off, not wanting to deal with this right now. “Priyanka, she told me you hate Kiara. She told me why, she told me everything.” She meets Bo’s gaze, and it hurts her only a little when she sees the regret in her expression. Her petty side is stronger when she’s drunk.

Bo inhales sharply before speaking, “Yeah, I know. Priyanka scolded me about it when you refused to go out for lunch with us for the third time in a row,” she admits, toying with the hem of her shirt. “Listen, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I was trying to look out for you so you wouldn’t get hurt, but--”

“But it happened either way,” Kyne finishes, sinking further into Scarlett’s couch. Bo sighs, sitting next to her.

“And I’m sorry about it, you really did look happy,” she muses quietly, giving her a pat on the shoulder. Kyne can’t be bothered to swat her away again. “I guess I never really forgot her for breaking my friend Abril’s heart.”

Kyne frowns, curious; Kiara never spoke of any Abril. “Is that your friend that sabotaged projects and shit?” She wonders, turning to look at her. Bo sighs heavily.

“Yup, the one and only. She was Kiara’s friend from college, and she was the one that got her the job. I think they were dating at that point, I don’t remember well,” Bo recalls, trying to make sense of the blurry memories. In the end, she dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “Whatever. Now that I’m being honest, I wasn’t even sure the rumors about her sleeping around were true, I just believed them out of spite.”

She blinks repeatedly, not really believing what she’s hearing.

“So you feel bad for the girl that used Kiara and betrayed her trust, instead of feeling bad for the girl that got her reputation ruined before she actually started working at the company?” Kyne says slowly, and Bo cringes at herself.

“When you put it like that it makes me sound like an asshole,” she complains, and Kyne almost snaps her optic nerve with the way she rolled her eyes.

She’s over this discussion already, and she’s not really sure what did she gain out of it; closure, maybe? Whatever it is, she decides she’ll think this new information through when she’s more sober—and her face doesn’t itch with the ruined foundation. So she just stands up and asks Bo if she’s going to take her make-up off, and Bo follows her to the bathroom without saying anything.

Later on, when Priyanka and Scarlett are done scattering blankets and pillows on the ground, she’s able to sleep peacefully for what feels like the first time in years. Maybe she should keep this in mind for the next time a rich girl breaks her heart; there isn’t a better way to sleep than using Scarlett as a pillow, while Priyanka is sprawled over her and, ironically enough, butting heads with Bo.

***

Another Monday comes around, and Priyanka has decided to put the non-sense to an end. She solemnly walks up to Rita Baga’s office, saying to Tynomi that she has important business stuff to discuss with her. Yes, like that. 

Tynomi side-eyes her, but ends up letting her in, anyway. It’s still early and she knows for a fact Rita doesn’t have anything important until ten a.m., so she sends Priyanka in.

Rita looks as imponent as she always does, and the way she quirks her eyebrow at Priyanka absolutely does not intimidate her.

Fine, maybe a little.

“How can I help you, miss…?” She squints, and only then Priyanka remembers she’s never properly talked with her. 

“My name’s Priyanka, and you can help me by listening to me and then talking some sense into your friend,” she says, and Rita cocks her head, furrowing her brow. Okay, maybe she should be more specific. “I’m Kyne’s best friend, and if my instinct is right, Kiara is as sad for their break up as her. Which is why I need your help; you see, my idiot is convinced your idiot hates her, but I know better than that, so if you’d help me to push them to talk things out, I will be eternally grateful.” 

Should she be calling Kiara an idiot in front of her friend and fellow CEO? Probably not, but anyway, what’s done is done.

Rita goes from confused to surprised, to confused again. She clears her throat before speaking, “I’m sorry, I thought Kyne was the one that wanted to end things…?”

“Oh, it’s a bit of a complicated situation, but I assure you, she absolutely regrets snapping at Kiara.”

They stare at each other for a long second, before Rita finally reaches for her phone and calls up her secretary.

“Tynomi, would you mind coming in for a minute? We have a bit of a problem.”

#my fanfiction #rpdr fanfiction #kyara #online kyne #kyne #kiara schatzi #priyanka love #scarlett bobo #boa #rita baga #tynomi banks #fake dating au #some things are bound to be fic

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Episode 3: Fear Response

You know the drill. Thoughts with time stamps coming your way.

SPOILERS AHEAD

0:55 - Is Martin really that delusional? He killed people and he thinks his wife isn’t going to divorce him?!? 

1:23 - “A woman overlooks things.” No. I’m sorry. But Jessica’s mother sounds kind of awful. No one should have to overlook “things” in a marriage. Communicate people. Don’t settle. Compromise. Love. Forgive. Don’t overlook red flags.

1:47 - Lay down the law Jessica. That’s my girl. This is the moment I fell in love with Jessica. 

3:19 - Malcolm leaves his phone in another room when he sleeps? Good for him. My technology addicted ass could never do that. Plus it’s my alarm clock so you know - there’s that. 

3:30 - Jessica owns the building Malcolm lives in. This raises a lot of questions for me about Malcolm’s finances. He was clearly getting paid by the FBI. I assume the NYPD is also paying him. Does he have access to the family money? Is he paying rent for his loft? Or does he live rent free because it’s the “family building”?!? The finances of people who grew up rich is such a mystery to me. How does it work when your rich parents are still alive? 

3:49 - He flung himself out a window. He was having a nightmare and it caused him to fling himself out a window while he was still asleep. This. Boy. Needs. A. Hug. Also real sleep. And peace. 

4:48 - “I just watched you throw yourself out a window.” Did you see Malcolm’s facial expression after she said that. It was a look that says “I know I’m broken. I don’t like it. I’m sorry. I’m doing my best. I’m ashamed.”

5:10 -  He knows. He knows his mental health is a mess but he lies to his mother anyways. He wants to be brave for her. He doesn’t want her to worry about him. She’s suffered enough. She’s worried enough. He doesn’t want to be a burden. My heart breaks for Malcolm in this scene.

5:35 - Look I have personal issues with shrinks but I’m really happy Malcolm has someone to talk to. Also she’s such a cool therapist. She’s kind and respectful without being demeaning and coddling. 

7:00 - I LOVE that Malcolm is sitting with his legs folded. It’s super cute. Also it reinforces the idea that he’s in a vulnerable state.

7:22 - Does Malcolm have social anxiety? The way he approaches this crime scene it almost looks like he’s rehearsing what he’s going to do/say when he arrives. It’s a very common social anxiety habit. 

7:38 - He took enough lollipops to share. That might be the sweetest thing in the world. Gil looks so happy. Dani and JT look so confused. I wonder if Malcolm is sharing lollipops to subtly tell Gil that he’s seeing his therapist and he’s getting help. 

8:11 - Another awkward Edrisa and Bright interaction. I’m cringing. 

8:50 - Do you ever wonder what Mr.David’s job description is? I do. I mean does he just stand there watching Martin all day. Is he supposed to talk to Martin? Is he supposed to prevent Martin from hurting himself? I mean I love Mr.David but if Martin is alone in his room why does Mr.David need to be there? Martin is chained to the wall. 

10:10 - Oh hell no. That’s nasty. Also Malcolm looks way too excited about the brain removal. 

10:34 - Ok. So I don’t ship Maldrisa. BUT that little smile that Malcolm just gave Edrisa is warming my cold, dead heart. 

11:05 - The victim was scared to death. Malcolm is currently suffering from increased mental distress caused by his father and extreme night terrors. And now the victim has been scared to death. Irony? Foreshadowing?

12:03 - hahaha Gil’s face. He’s like “I can’t explain that boy’s behaviour.”.

12:07 - STOP. Right now. Does Malcolm really have his own desk?!? So he’s like officially employed right? This isn’t some irregular consultation gig that Gil has arranged. Our boy has a desk. Our boy is permanent. I am so happy. 

12:30 - Mr.David doesn’t deserve to have to bend to Martin’s will.  “Could you mute that please”. That man better be getting a pretty penny from this job. 

12:40 - How does Martin get this case info?!? I don’t see the newspapers/newscasts mentioning the incision on the side of the victim’s skull. 

13:30 - Oh and whose fault is that Martin? Ugh. I wish Martin just wouldn’t talk to Malcolm anymore. He really aggravates Malcolm’s anxiety.

14:33 - I am both touched and slightly creeped out that Gil has been staring at Malcolm through a window while he was on the phone. 

15:07 - Fanboy alert. It’s honestly so freaking sweet to see Malcolm this excited....but it’s really not the time. 

16:10 - What exactly does Jessica do all day? Does she just watch the news and keep tabs on her children? That’s kind of sad. For Jessica. I wish she were able to have more of a social life despite what Martin did.

17:12 - Ainsley, sweetheart, I love you. I see where you’re coming from. But your Mother did the right thing for you. You shouldn’t have to remember a monster. 

18:40 - Dang. Dani looks beautiful in that shade of blue. 

19:30 - Do you ever wonder why Malcolm doesn’t carry a gun with the NYPD? He’s qualified to carry a gun since he used to work for the FBI. Do you think he’s not allowed to carry one since he’s technically not a police officer with the NYPD? I prefer to believe that he refuses to carry a gun with the NYPD because he’s terrified of what he might do with a gun. To a suspect. To himself (presuming he stores it at home when he’s not working).

20:12 - Again. Malcolm is not a killer. Look at his concern for Dr. Brown in this scene.

21:21 - JT’s writing the report. Do they all have to make a report for every case or do they take turns writing a single report (like a group project) for every case? I’m very curious. 

21:23 - oooooohhhh Dad is angry. And concerned. 

21:50 - Do you ever wonder what classes Bright took in university? I do. He has a degree in psychology but he seems to know a lot about specific medications, medical conditions, and medicine in general. Is that because of Martin? Maybe? But a lot of his knowledge seems way beyond what a 10 year old could understand and retain. 

24:10 - I love this scene. It suggests that there was a point in time when Gil and Jessica talked frequently. Maybe they were even friends. It suggests that they bonded over how much they love Malcolm. Makes me wonder what kind of a relationship Gil has/had with Ainsley.

27:48 - This. This is how much Jessica loves Malcolm. Yes she oversteps boundaries and she can come across as cold and distant. BUT she is willing to see a man that terrifies her. Who caused her so much pain. A man that she hates. Simply because she wants to keep her son healthy and safe. That right there is a good mother. 

28:28 - This is my favourite running gag of the series. I genuinely want to know what JT stands for. If it’s not something ridiculous like “James Tiberius” or “Justin Timberlake” because JT’s parents were big nerds I will be so disappointed. 

29:00 - This conversation about trust and respect between JT and Malcolm is everything. It really solidifies their friendship. You can tell that from this point onward JT is much warmer toward Malcolm. I love this. So much. 

29:15 - What branch of the military was JT a part of? Marine? Air Force? Army? Navy?

30:08 - Malcolm’s list of diagnoses. Yikes. :( My heart is shattered.  

30:21 - The look in Malcolm’s eyes here. Just. No. Ouch. That hurts. This boy needs a hug. 

32:30 - I kind of don’t feel bad for this woman. She kind of sucks.

32:50 - I like to believe that JT is texting his wife in this scene. I like to believe he’s telling her about how he got stuck babysitting the weirdo who keeps guessing what his name stands for. 

32:52 - I’m sorry. What? What did JT see that caused him to get out of the car. Malcolm hasn’t called him yet and that house looks normal on the outside. 

34:14 - The fact that Malcolm can empathize with killers is beautiful and terrible. It’s a wonderful quality but it’s probably not great for his mental health.

34:55 - That’s a concussion.

36:15 - I get the feeling that half the time when Malcolm’s talking down a killer he’s really talking to himself. That breaks my heart.

36:38 - Malcolm’s manic guesses of JT name is very concerning. I’m worried for this boy. I really hope someone got him checked out for a concussion.

37:12 - Ugh. Don’t look at her like she’s a piece of meat. 

37:33 - The way Jessica and Martin interact really makes me question what their married relationship was like. Did they argue a lot? Did they show a lot of PDA? I have questions.

38:30 - The way Jessica insults Martin is my favourite thing. It’s freaking hilarious.

39:10 - If Martin is a psychopath he legitimately can’t feel pride for his children. Right? So he’s lying here?

40:40 - What was the whole story? What did Jessica do? Was it the alcoholism? Is that what he’s referring to?

42:00 - DUDE. Please don’t drug yourself. You are so desperate for answers that you’ve become self-destructive. I want you to be safe. 

I love this show. Ugh. If you read through any of this - thanks for hanging out. I hope to post my thoughts on the next episode soon. 

#prodigal son #jess-rewatches-prodigal #malcolm bright #whitly #ainsley whitly #jessica whitly #martin whitly #gil arroyo #jt tarmel #edrisa tanaka #dani powell #this show is almost perfect #i love this show #whump #malcolm needs a hug #so good #rewatch #spoilers #ps #e:3 #Fear Response #1x3 #s1

[margoshansons]

Jealously, Turning Saints: B. Blake

Bellamy Blake x Reader. Onesided!Jasper Jordan x Reader

Requested: For anon.  Hey!! Can I request a Bellamy Blake imagine?(taking place in the first two seasons) reader is really close friends with Jasper and everyone knows he has a crush on the reader, but she doesn’t believe it. Bellamy tries to throw hints that he likes reader too but reader is, again, oblivious. Then jasper does something sweet with reader and Bellamy snaps, starting a fight with jasper. Reader finally realizes everyone was right. Just some jealousy stuff, love your writing! Thank you🙈😊

Summary: Jasper takes Y/N to the field of butterflies, a fight breaks out as Bellamy confronts his feelings.

Warnings: Violence. Swearing

Notes: I am so happy I get to write for my husband! (jk, Bellamy is always Clarke’s, fight me). Also, this takes place right after ‘Murphy’s law’. Enjoy!

For the first time in a while, the camp was silent. Murphy’s theatrics had finally gotten him thrown out of camp, and Jasper was finally feeling back to normal. She sat up on the third floor, sharing what was left of the whiskey with her best friend, the two trading jokes and stories back and forth as the Camp grew darker beneath them.

“I’m really glad you’re okay” Y/N confided, staring into the gaze hidden by Jasper’s mop of black curls. 

“Me too” Jasper replied, a smile growing on his face. “I mean, I uh, I’m happy you’re okay too. Like just in general,”

She chuckled at his stuttering nerves, taking another pull from the nearly empty bottle, cringing as the alcohol burned down her throat. 

Jasper laughed at her reaction, “Too much for you?”

“Shut up” She playfully pushed his shoulder, careful not to irritate the tender wounds. 

“I’m really happy you’re down here” Jasper’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I mean, I’m not happy we ended up in lockup, but if I had to be stuck on Earth with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Warmth filled her chest at the compliment, a small smile flashing at her best friend. “I’m really happy you’re down here too.” She replied, snuggling closer to the thin kid, feeling his throat move up and down as he swallowed. 

They were pulled out of their reverie by a clanging on the hatch, a freckled face catching the two off guard. 

“Y/N” Bellamy called, jaw tightening at the sight of her and Jasper together, “I need your help with something.” He threw a dirty look toward Jasper, “Now.” 

His usually calm voice turned to a growl and Y/N stood up immediately, throwing an apologetic glance toward Jasper before following Bellamy down to the floor of the dropship. 

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, concern hiding any annoyance she felt about being separated from her best friend. Bellamy threw her a makeshift pack, his jaw still tight.

“We’re looking for water,” he informed her, “You’re one of the few who’ve been to the river, so we need you to navigate.”

Y/N arched a brow skeptically. “Why can’t you ask Clarke to do it? She’s been outside camp more times than I have.”

“Clarke’s not here.” Bellamy sighed, irritation practically radiating from him, “She and Finn left camp a few hours ago.”

Y/N nodded her head in understanding. 

“Besides,” Bellamy pulled her attention back to him, “I prefer your company to hers.”

His smile seemed out of place. She had never seen him smile at anyone except Octavia, and that was rare enough as it was. 

The two delinquents set out on their expedition, trail lit only by the flame from Bellamy’s torch, a flashlight hanging unlit from her pant loop.

“You know he’s in love with you right?” Bellamy interjected through the silence that hung between them.

“Who?” Y/N asked, her mind still reeling from the fact that she was with Bellamy Blake at night. In the woods.

Alone.

“Jasper” Bellamy spoke like it was supposed to be obvious. “He’s so bad at hiding it too.”

Y/N scoffed, throwing her attention back to the map she had swiped. “Jasper is not in love with me. We’re best friends nothing more.”

“Of all the traits I thought you had, being that dumb is not one of them.” Bellamy threw at her, a playful tone emanating from him.

“Yeah, well I caught on pretty quickly that being delusional is one of yours.” Y/N shot back, the witty banter sending butterflies erupting throughout her body. 

The laugh that escaped Bellamy’s mouth was almost as unusual as the smile that seemed to be permanently stuck on his face. Her chest constricted, wondering if she had taken things too far.

“You think I’m delusional huh?” He asked, facing her.

Y/N shrugged, “You’re the one that convinced twenty-four kids to take their wristbands off because you were worried about the Ark locking us back up.”

Bellamy bobbed his head almost as if he was agreeing with her. She shook her head, convincing herself that she must have imagined the gesture. Bellamy Blake did not agree with anyone, let alone a petty thief from agro station.

“That’s because they would.” His tone turned serious and the Bellamy she was familiar with returned, “You’re the one who’s delusional if you think they would actually pardon you when they come down. You’re nothing to them, they’ll just lock us up when they come back down.”

She shook her head, refusing to believe that ethic. Her mom was up there. Her dad was up there. She wasn’t nothing to them.

Y/N scoffed, pushing past him, “Look, just because Clarke is off enjoying herself with someone else doesn’t mean you can use me as your new punching bag.”

Bellamy grasped her bicep, pulling her gaze toward his own. “You think I’m upset because Clarke is off probably screwing Finn?”

Y/N shook under his heated gaze, breathing growing shallower, pulse rising. “The tone of your voice suggests otherwise, but...yeah.”

Bellamy scoffed, a small chuckle escaping him. “Maybe you are delusional after all.”

Their eyes met.

Conflict raged behind his.

Curiosity swirled in hers.

He bit his lip, gaze flickering toward the bottom half of her face. 

“Bellamy?” Y/N whispered, breath hitching.

“What?” The dark tone in his voice was back.

A beat.

Two beats.

She opened her mouth to say something, until--

“Did you hear that?”

Bellamy creased his face, “Hear what?”

Splash!

“That” She pulled her arm out of his grasp, rushing toward the sound of water against the ground until finally, they reached the coveted resource.

Another unusual smile crossed Bellamy’s face, eyes lighting up as he spoke, “Nice job Agro.” His hand rubbed her shoulder as he moved forward, using the canteen to gather more water. 

The walk back to camp was significantly less eventful, especially considering that neither of them wanted to talk about whatever that had been by the river. 

Y/N swallowed, gulping down her nerves at the thought of the electricity that had passed through her when Bellamy had grasped her arm, the butterflies that had emerged when his gaze was locked on her. 

Octavia ran toward her when they reached the camp, throwing herself into an embrace with both of them. “I’m so glad you two are okay.” 

Bellamy nodded refusing to say anything more, only throwing a grateful smile toward Y/N as he moved to go discuss things with Miller. 

Octavia had a smile written on her face. What was with the Blakes and smiling today?

“Did my brother just smile at you?” Octavia asked, a teasing look on her face. 

Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes as a playful smile crossed her face. “It’s nothing like that I promise.”

Octavia still refused to give up her smile, Y/N furrowing her brow. 

“Octavia?” Y/N asked, nerves jumping up to her throat. “What’s going on?”

“Just follow me” The younger girl pressured, grasping her hand and pulling her through a grove of woods on the outskirts of the camp, both unaware of Bellamy’s concerned gaze at their backs.

“Wait here,” Octavia instructed, leaving the delinquent alone amongst the trees. 

“Octavia!” Y/N called out, still confused about what the younger girl wanted to show her. 

Her worn through boots crunched the earth below her as she spun around, gaze locked on the glowing trees above her, the night sky illuminating the grove before her. 

The trees began to move, and as the butterfly landed on her hand, she realized just how much the radiation had affected the animals that had once inhabited an Earth free of radioactivity. 

Her face broke into a toothy smile, chest bursting into laughter as more butterflies surrounded her. 

A twig snapping pulled her out of her awe, guard up as she reached for the knife tucked into her pants, ready to fight off any grounders that had suddenly appeared. 

Instead, the curly mane of Jasper Jordan peeked out beyond the glowing trees, his nervous smile growing wider as he grew closer to her. 

“It's pretty cool right?” Jasper commented, tugging on the sleeve of his red hoodie. “Octavia showed it to me after I recovered, and I knew I had to bring you here.”

Y/N bit her lip, the smile still tugging on her lips. 

“I love it.” She whispered, truly meaning those words. “It's one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Jasper grew closer, his hand pushing a fallen strand of ponytail behind her ear. “It reminds me of you.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

She recalled Bellamy’s words from earlier. You know he’s in love with you.

Y/N swallowed her guilty unreciprocated feelings as she pushed Jasper’s hands away from her face, holding them gingerly in her palms. “We should head back to camp, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

Jasper nodded, refusing to let go of her hands until she acted herself, the firelight of Camp illuminating the guilty look written on her face. 

“Jordan!” Bellamy bellowed, striding toward the pair, his jaw tight with tension once again. 

“Oh, Hey Bellamy” Jasper spoke up in a perky tone, waving at the older kid. His greeting was rewarded with a fist to the jaw. 

Y/N’s mouth dropped open. “Bellamy!” She called.

“What the hell was that for?” Jasper asked, rubbing his skin where Bellamy’s hand had collided. 

Bellamy puffed his chest, “You know the rules, no heading outside of camp after dark.”

Jasper laughed uncontrollably, grasping his stomach to stabilize himself.”Oh, that’s rich coming from you Mr. ‘we need more water’. This camp just got new water a day ago!” He yelled, voice trembling in anger.

Y/N’s eyebrows creased as she stared at Bellamy. The whole thing was a ruse? Why the hell did he--

Maybe you are delusional after all.

She wanted to slap herself at how long it had taken her to figure it out. Instead, she watched the rest of the argument unfold. 

“This isn’t about me breaking the rules” Jasper continued, “This is about Y/N isn’t it?”

Bellamy’s jaw set itself, his hand growing into another fist.

“Jasper stop,” Y/N pleaded, not wanting to see her best friend get into another fight. 

“Newsflash asshole!” Jasper called out, arms open wide. “She’s her own person! You don’t own her!”

Skin collided with skin as Bellamy launched as Jasper, his strength overpowering anything Jasper may have gathered over the past few days. 

“Bellamy stop” Y/N tried to place herself between the two, hoping she could hold him back before he did any further damage. “Bellamy!” She was thrown back as a fist slapped her in the jaw. 

Bellamy’s fist.

Octavia caught the reeling girl. “Y/N are you okay?” 

Bellamy stared at the damage he had done, mouth dropping in shock. “Y/N I’m so sorry--”

“Don’t.” She snapped, malice lacing her voice. 

Jasper scrambled up, his gaze landing on his friend who stood there nursing her jaw. “Holy shit” He whispered.

“Y/N please” Bellamy moved forward, she pulled herself back.

Curious whispered erupted around them, the campers pointing toward the sky. Y/N lifted her eyes upward, the ache in her jaw forgotten as she stared at the incoming object entering Earth’s atmosphere.

The Ark was sending a ship to the ground.

I loved writing this so much! I hope I did Jasper justice, because I’m not used to writing him. It’s season 1 Jasper so I figured he’s a bit reckless.

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