and you have vanished into the air the air in which i must live

the heir - pt.4

Group : BTS

Member : Park Jimin

Word Count :  3,423

Genre : fluff, angst, mention of mature content

Description : It has been eight years, long enough for you to forget about him. But seeing your son everyday, who is almost a duplication of him, always brings back the painful memories of how the only one you had ever loved had died eight years ago. Killed by the police for being a criminal who had broken into a bank and kidnapped a hostage.  

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Durmstrang!Draco AU

Based on this post and this post. (They’re amazing!)

“Father, we need to talk.” Draco says one day as he politely sits in front of Lucius’ study desk.

“Yes, Draco?”

“Do you know this year is the year when The Triwizard Tournament will be held?” Draco asks innocently, being sly is one of his strongest suits, so he will hold onto that until his father agrees to his desire.

“Yes, I am quite informed about that. May I ask why did you bring it up?” Draco maintains his posture to ooze confidence and certainty.

“I wish to watch the tournament, Father.” Lucius looks at him sharply at that.

“Draco, are you aware of what you’re asking right now?”

“Yes, Father. I am quite informed about the details and rules, but I still want to watch it.” Lucius narrows his eyes at Draco, but Draco keeps his foot on his ground, showing his father that this is not open for discussion. Draco wants to watch the tournament –no, he needs to watch the Tournament- and so, he will.

“And may I ask why this becomes very important for you?”

“You turned down my invitation to Hogwarts, Father, it’s only fair that I get to see the castle once since I have become a very good student at your chosen school.” Draco throws his ace card.

“Draco…” Lucius sighs, “we have been over this fight a dozen of times.”

“Yes, and we have established that I’m not at Hogwarts because of your personal reasons. Father, let me be there, and I will let go of this grudges. I will still cheer for Durmstrang anyway.” Draco shrugs nonchalantly; he can see the resolves in his father’s eyes crumble. Lucius closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing, and staring back at Draco.

“Okay, fine, but this will be the end of your Hogwarts obsession. I will see what I can do.” Draco lets himself smiles at that.

“Thank you, Father.”


Somehow pulling connection is one of the best things a Malfoy can do, especially when Lucius is a very close friend of Igor Karkaroff, Durmstrang’s Headmaster, and also ex Death Eater. On the day Durmstrang leaves to Hogwarts, Draco is also boarded on the ship. Well, Draco’s connection is also seemed very wide as he’s witnessed to be chatting with Victor Krum’s inner circle inside the ship, -yes, Victor Krum, one of the best and the youngest Quidditch players the Wizarding world has ever known of.

They arrive at Hogwarts, just with a spare hour or two before the first night dinner feast is going to be held, giving them less than the much needed time to settle down and get ready for their entrance. Draco is on the very back, being the last one that will enter Hogwarts’ Great Hall, wearing the Durmstrang red coat with pride, two torches on his hand, ready for their closing attraction. Helen is four steps ahead of him, winking from her shoulder to Draco, definitely oozing confidence and power. Draco only rolls his eyes; Helen is one of his closest friends since they are actually in the same age. She also forced her parents to let her be here because she wants to finally meet Albus Dumbledore –Hogwarts’ Headmaster, her favourite wizard of all time.

Beauxbaton has finished their charming entrance, and now the Headmaster himself is presenting the Durmstrang students. Igor Karkaroff walks inside with something that only can be described as an aura of power and danger. Victor and the rest of the line come right behind, smashing their staffs to the stone floor, creating magical spark while projecting their pride of Durmstrang. Helen walks in, many eyes turn towards her as she creates sparks and lines of fire with her short staffs –both powerful and graceful, her charming eyes sweep the room as her lips lift up in a small smirk, fire illuminates her dark red hair, and red coat brushes the air with a strong gracefulness. Helen moves like a fucking feline, and she bloody knows how gorgeous and dangerous she is. Draco steps into the room, long legs leap in strong, powerful motions, body twirls and flips in the air, both hands creating large burst of fire by blowing his torches, and just after everyone is finished with their tricks, Draco smirks as he creates a living, flying dragon with his fire, letting the creature swoops the place before vanishing with a wide circle of fire on the great hall ceilings.

Draco finds one intense stare being directed at him, two green orbs that holds his eyes captive, hidden behind glasses, but definitely projecting a sense of awe. Draco smirks before bowing while still maintaining the gaze between him and the boy with spectacular green eyes. Draco’s smirk only gets smugger when the boy’s cheeks reddened, and he abruptly cuts the eye contact, now staring intently at his black robe. Draco Malfoy wants the green eyed boy.


Harry Potter. The green eyed boy with disheveled jet black hair whom Draco fancy is Harry bloody Potter, The Boy Who Live, The Boy Who Killed The Dark Lord, and now one of The Triwizard Tournament’s champions. Draco is not quite sure as how he will get closer to the boy, but he’ll get his chance. For now, he’ll let himself be impressed that Harry Potter is the youngest Triwizard’s champion this year despite the rule about being 17 or older.


Harry Potter is feeling some very bizarre things in his life right now, more bizarre than getting almost killed by a dark powerful wizard three years in a row, much more bizarre than Ron being mad at him for being in the tournament which could actually kill him. Harry thinks he just might fancy a boy. A boy. How bizarre is that? At first he believes that he had a crush on Cho Chang, but then this boy swooped in with his bloody agile legs and with all the bloody dragon fire, he took a look at the boy, and just like that, he is trapped inside the sharp grey eyes, which was illuminated by the fire. He was bloody gorgeous, if Harry might have a say in how he looked like that first night. And Harry thinks, he might just fancy the boy.

But the boy gets closer. At first, he’s just always lounging with Krum and the other red haired girl, but then he starts getting closer. And closer.

“The name’s Draco Malfoy. You must be Harry Potter.” He started one morning after sitting down beside Harry in the Gryffindor table, offering a hand to shake and a smile. Harry swore he looks more gorgeous up close, with sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and bright grey eyes. Harry takes his hand, and he was absurdly reluctant to let go. The next thing that surprise Harry is he supports him, like he’s actually one of Hogwarts’ students instead of Durmstrang. He yells for Harry’s name when he was fighting the dragon in the first task, and he wears the Go, Potter! pin on his coat before the second task even starts.

“You’re supposed to cheer for our champion, Malfoy.” Harry has heard the red haired girl reprimands him in a tired voice one day. Draco Malfoy then cheers for Krum, but he also wears the bloody pin to support Harry.

Holy beard of Merlin, how can he not fancy the Durmstrang git?


“Going to the library again, Viktor?” Harry has heard Malfoy’s voice one day before he makes his turn on the hallway. His feet stops before his mind can catch up, his hands stop Ron, forbidding him to move even one step. Harry watches Malfoy and Krum both walking leisurely in the hallway, Malfoy snickering about Krum going to the library to see the famous Hermione Granger everyday while Krum is admitting defeat in silent with a red face. Harry smiles softly, he likes the way Malfoy’s platinum hair glows under the sunlight, with his coat neatly fastened –he looks calm and collected, but also strong, and little bit dangerous. Harry Potter likes it all. Ron groans heavily beside him.

“Not you, too!” Harry blinks dumbly at Ron.


“Look, I’d understand if it was Krum, with him being all strong muscle and Quidditch top player, but that ponce, Malfoy? Really, Harry? He’s like this snobby arrogant little shit, you know that.” Ron says, which makes Harry frowns.

“We all act like little shits sometimes, Ron.” Then Harry grins while resuming his walk and dragging Ron with him by the shoulders. “Cheer up, it’s not like he fancies me too, you know?” But oh boy how wrong he was, because two weeks later Draco Malfoy is boldly striding to intercept Harry’s track on the hallway before he can get inside his dorm.

“Malfoy.” Harry nods with a polite smile as he doesn’t quite know what to do. Malfoy smiles right back with an unusual anxiety inside his grey eyes. Harry decides that nervousness does not fit with Malfoy’s feature. “May I help you?” Harry finally asks when Malfoy doesn’t say anything. Draco takes a visible gulp before asking.

“Harry Potter, would you do me the honor to escort you as a Triwizard Champion to the Yule Ball?” Malfoy once again offers his hand for Harry to take, but this time Harry is rendered speechless. He feels like he has been gob smacked by something hard on his face.

“W-wh-what?” he stutters quietly, eyes wide at the blond boy in front of him, the subject of his crush, and the biggest factor of him feelings many bizarre things. “WHAT?” Harry finally explodes, which makes Draco smiles as he rolls his eyes. He takes one step closer to Harry –Merlin, too close, this is too close! And then another one until they barely have any space between them. Harry can feel the heat of Draco’s body, Draco’s warm breaths are grazing the shell of his ear, making Harry’s spine shivers delightfully –weird, but delightful. Harry realizes that he doesn’t want Draco to step back. Until Draco suddenly talks right beside Harry’s ear, voice quiet and low, making Harry’s breath stuck in his throat.

“I say, would you go to the ball with me, Harry Potter?” Draco dares his luck and lets his lips brush Harry’s ear in a feather like touch. Harry’s breathe hitches once more, which makes Draco steps back with a wide smile on his face. Harry can only gulps twice in a desperate attempt to dampen his throat, before looking back at the calm and composed boy in front of him. Harry needs to get out of here.

“Y-yeah, okay, yeah.” Harry stutters quickly before running to the Fat Lady painting, saying his password, and finally locking himself safely inside the Gryffindor common room. Fuck, this is not good. Harry has a crush as big as the Durmstrang ship toward the little ponce, called Draco Malfoy. Fuck.


Draco waits for Harry in front of the Great Hall that has been transformed into a very beautiful ballroom, full with white lights, and white dance floor, one table is full with glasses of wine, and the other with self refilled glasses of water. Viktor waits for his date patiently beside him, huh Draco never thought he actually has the guts to ask Granger to the ball, but then Viktor also bet Draco doesn’t have the gut to ask Harry to the ball. Helen is already inside with two of Durmstrang’s boys, she doesn’t need a date, she has two bloody gorgeous bodyguards beside her for the night. Viktor finally smiles widely as the beautiful lady descends from the stone staircase, wrapped in a gorgeous blue dress, with her hair curls softly, framing her heart shaped face, Hermione Granger definitely has outdone even many girls tonight. Draco smiles politely as Granger nods at him. All those shenanigans somehow make Draco missed the entrance of his own date.

Harry Potter looks bloody gorgeous in dress robe. His hair for once is tamer than the usual –still disheveled, but looks sexier than the usual I-don’t-have-a-time-to-actually-brush-my-hair. The green eyes looks brighter, more captivating than ever. Draco’s feet move on their own accord until he stops in front of the boy.

“You clean up nice.” Draco smiles at him. Draco takes note on how easily flustered Harry is, his cheeks redden in a matter of second.

“Uh, uhm…” he clears his throat before continuing “You too, look nice, I mean.” Harry stutters once again which makes Draco grins. He likes making Harry at lost for words. So, like the well bred pureblood that he is, he leans down to kiss Harry’s hand, before offering his arm for Harry to take. When he finally holds Draco’s arm, it feels like Harry is holding for his lifeline, Draco smiles at him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you trip on your first dance.” With that Draco walks inside the Great Hall, escorting the one and only Harry Potter in his arm.


After the Yule Ball, Harry and Draco are rarely seen alone. They got oh so much closer than they can imagine. Harry loves Draco’s company, Draco has somehow become an escape, something calm, and strong, something that tethers Harry to his sanity. Draco offers him the break that his mind needs from all the deadly tournament challenges, or most importantly from his weird dream that includes Voldemort, while Draco sees Harry as a comfortable companion. Someone’s different, someone that doesn’t belong with all the uptight traditions of being a pureblood. Draco learns a lot of things with Harry, things that sometimes are being push aside by the pureblood to achieve their personal goal, things like kindness, and friendship, and humanity.

They talk, and talk, and talk. They basically talk about everything. It somehow feels nice to have someone they can talk to about everything and anything without being judged by their own peers. So they talk, and they take walks in the Forbidden Forest, and then they talk some more. Comfortable companionship turns into uncertain touches, and finally it turns into holding each other. Harry instigated the first hesitant fingers loop when they were just leisurely walking inside the school ground, but Draco didn’t pull away, so fingers loop became hand holding in the end. But Draco instigated the first full body holding. Harry was telling him about how not all muggles are good muggles, just like wizard, and he gave the Dursley as an example. After Harry has to stop talking to keep his voice from breaking, Draco just stood up and trapped Harry inside his embrace. That day, Harry finally recognize Draco’s scent as he buried his head on the boy’s shoulder –sage, lemongrass, and oddly something that Harry can only describe as Earl Grey tea. Draco only tightens his embrace as Harry takes a full whiff of Draco’s scent, keeping it inside his mind.

Time is never relevant when you’re busy. You’re busy saving your life, you’re  busy keeping yourself sane, you’re busy sorting out your feelings, you’re busy mourning for a friend, you’re busy telling everyone about a grave danger that has come back. Harry knows that time is never relevant in his life, in the end he would only find himself in the last page of the book, in the end he’ll stand waving goodbyes to many people. This time he regrets all the time that feels irrelevant, this time he regrets for not making more time with Draco Malfoy, instead he got caught up with evil wizard trying to kill him and the death of a very good wizard. Harry has lost his time to actually making worthy memories that doesn’t give him any nightmare with Draco Malfoy.

The Triwizard Tournament is over, Harry has won, Cedric was murdered, and Mad Eye Moody was locked down six feet underground. Now, the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang needs to go back to their respective school. Harry is sad, but he is not alone. He has said his goodbye to Fleur and her sister, he also has said his farewell to Krum, but he hasn’t seen the only one that he actually needs to say goodbye to. Draco Malfoy is nowhere to be seen. So, now Harry is in one of the less crowded hallway with Ron and Hermione, looking at the Pegasus carriages bringing the Beauxbaton’s students home.

“You okay, Harry?” Hermione asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I will be eventually.”

“You have said your goodbye?” Ron asks concern. Harry shakes his head with a sad smile on his lips.

“Can’t find him.”

“It’s okay, mate. It’s summer holiday now. Do yourself a favor, forget him and find yourself a nice bloke, yeah?” Ron grins which makes Hermione slaps his arms, but Harry is smiling. Yeah, everything is gonna change now.

“You will write to me, won’t you?” Hermione asks, her voice is shaking a little bit. They start walking away from the wall.

“Blimey, I won’t have time to write you anything ‘Mione!” Ron exclaims.

“You’ll write to me, though, Harry.”

“Oh yeah, everyday for the entire holiday, as many as you—” Harry is smiling at Hermione, but his words stuck in his throat as he suddenly see Draco leaning on the wall at the end of the hallway. Harry can’t quite believe his own eyes, but Draco straightens his posture and smiles charmingly as he walks straight to Harry, ignoring everyone else in the room. “I thought you’d left.” Harry finally breathes.

“Cannot leave without saying goodbye, can I?” Draco once again closes the distance between them, but this time stopping face to face with Harry. Grey eyes hold the green captive, and Harry feels faint with the sheer passion inside Draco’s eyes. With tenderness Harry couldn’t quite imagine, Draco’s finger trails on Harry’s jaw, lifting his chin softly in the end before leaning in. Soft lips touch Harry’s lips hesitantly before diving in for a searing kiss. One breathtaking kiss that makes Harry’s toes curls inside his shoes, and forget about the world beside the space between the both of them. In the end, Draco lets the kiss becomes slower, mapping Harry’s lips with his tongue, and slowly pulls back. Harry is in a daze, his face flustered, lips red and almost swollen by kisses, his hair is the most disheveled Draco has ever seen, his glasses is fogged, but the brilliant green peeks out behind the glass. Draco decides that he loves seeing Harry like this.

“I’ll see you again one day, Harry. This year has been the highlight of my life.” Draco once again leans in to kiss Harry’s cheek, and then he starts walking away. Harry can only stares at Draco retreating figure, he doesn’t quite sure on what to say, but Draco turns back again to face him, and start walking backward. A grin is plastered on his face. Grey eyes look warm under the sunset light. “Write to me, Harry! Everyday for the entire holiday and even much longer! I’ll wait for your letters!” Draco grins as he half say half yell the sentence. Harry smiles at that.

“Will do! Everyday for as long as you want, as many as you want!” Harry feels his eyes waters a bit. Draco Malfoy is surely something else, something so out of this world that somehow belongs in Harry’s life. With that, Draco nods and then he runs; disappears from the hallway, boarding the ship he came with on the first September, going back home with the Durmstrang’s students.

I will see you around, Draco Malfoy.

Rude Awakening

Written for: Ash’s 300 W&G Challenge / Michelle’s AU & Things Challenge / SPN HWC – Week 17

Prompt: “Speaking of chairs, you look like a fun place to sit.” / Professor AU / “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” (Quotes are bolded in the story)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 3270

Warnings: Smut, Angst, AU

A/N:  So I found a great way for all of this to be wrapped up in one fic. Well, I sincerely hope it works and it’s enjoyable. Thanks to all the wonderful organizers of Challenges. It’s very hard but a ton of fun. All errors are my own, gifs found on the google, and feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Summary: Upon returning home to finish school and care for your father after an accident sees your best friend Meg taking you out for a night of fun. It leads you into the arms of the man of your dreams. But what’s a dream come true without a nice slap of reality?


     “I’m just so happy you finally transferred here, Y/N,” Meg grinned pushing another shot across the table at you.

    “So you could have someone to drink with on a Thursday night?”

    Meg looked at you for a moment before shrugging, “Either way this year is going to be epic.”

    You’d made the decision to go to a closer college for your last year of college due to your Dad’s accident. Bobby Singer taking to using a wheelchair was an obstacle in and of itself. Thankfully you’d convinced him the nearby college had a better program for your degree and that seemed to appease him for the time being. Meg was your high school best friend and had convinced you to give up daughter duty for a night of drinking before classes started on Monday. However, she had a late shift Friday through Sunday so tonight was your best option.

    “I don’t know about epic but I’ll be glad to put it all behind me. I have that paid internship at the hospital starting next week and as long as I graduate and pass my boards I’ll be an RN in no time,” you held up a shot as she toasted you.

     “Oh damn,” Meg jumps up. “I’m going to go find the restroom, order another round and request some dancing music.”

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Alexander Nylander - Buffalo Part Six

Originally posted by nhlinfluenced

Word Count: 1716

Warnings: Drinking/Cursing

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

“Tell me where he is.” You demanded to Jack. You weren’t in the mood for his childish games especially since he made it clear that something wasn’t right.

“He’s inside, at the bar.” Jack answered.

“I already looked there and didn’t see him.” You responded now crossing your arms.

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love sick that is || racetrack higgins

believe the request was for some puke worth race fluff??

so here’s some cute race fluff, don’t know if it’ll make you sick but i tried

i think i broke some grammar rules but it’s all good 

enjoy and remember that requests are still open!

        You had this bad habit of blushing every time Race Higgins said anything in your direction. It was easy to cover up your rosy cheeks when you’d first become a Newsies, in the winter. But it was spring now, and the cold wasn’t harsh enough to turn you into a tomato anymore. And as you and the other Newsies became more and more comfortable with each other, Race not only spoke to you more often, he started to become more touchy-feely as well. Of course, it wasn’t anything outside of anyone’s comfort zone, he’d sling his arm around your shoulders or lean against you more when you sat next to each other, he did this to everyone. However, it made your cheeks go red and your hands shake every time he choose to do these to you. Not because it made you uncomfortable (you didn’t really have that option, given the boys you live and work with), but because you wanted more.

        Race was getting a different impression from you. Every time he said something to you, you would turn away and mumble in response. Every time he touched you in anyway, even if he just bumped arms with you, you would flinch or look at him with wide eyes. This actually made him rather sad. He thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and whenever you were around he got excited. But it didn’t seem like you shared his feelings. This wasn’t going to stop the curly haired fella. He was determined to make you like him. 

        One fine morning, Race had insisted that you sell with him. In fact, as soon as he saw you stirring in your bed, he’d marched right over to you and informed you that you would be spending the day with him. Well actually it had come out more as “I’m ya new sellin’ partna n’ Jojo can jus’ piss off”. Jojo, whom like the rest of the Newsies, could clearly see that both of you were trying to start something, put up no fight. You were surprised, excited that Race wanted to hang out with you and a little hurt that Jojo had just brushed it off, but you choose not to dwell on it. 

        Now you were at the Sheepshead Races, where Race had earned his name. Maybe selling with Race had been a better idea than you thought, the people here didn’t think twice about buying from a girl, eager to get back to the matches. But lunchtime, you had sold almost half of your papes. 

        “Aye (y/n/n), let’s go get sum'din ta eat, I’m starvin’!” Race said over the general commotion of the crowd. You nodded, feeling hungry as well. You followed Race out of the track’s bleachers and out onto the street. As soon as you were out of the noise zone, your stomach growled loudly. Race chuckled and you could feel the rushing, or should one say racing, to your face. “Looks sum'one’s hungry.”

        Your face was practically glowing now, you looked down, not wanting to display your embarrassment in front of handsome Newsie. You couldn’t believe your stomach would betray you like that! Well, it wasn’t that hard to believe seeing as you probably didn’t eat as much as you should, but it wasn’t like you could help it! Race’s mischievous expression fell to one of concern.

        “What’re ya sick or sum'tin? Ya feelin’ alright?” Race stopped you and felt your forehead. You didn’t know how to respond. It was either that you would have to tell him that you had a crush on him and would very much like to kiss him right here and now thank you very much, or you could lie and say that you weren’t feeling very hot. You were very tempted to go with the latter, but you knew that he would make you go back to the Lodging House and then he’d stay with you until you “felt better”. You couldn’t afford to loose the money you wouldn’t make if you lied. Not to mention that Davey would no doubt magically appear by your side and mother over you for a good two weeks. You stared into his bright, searching eyes. They reminded you of the sky on an especially clear day. 

        “You have really pretty eyes!” You blurted out. Involuntarily, your own eyes flickered down to his lips. Currently, your face could win a bright-off with the sun. Race looked taken-a-back for a moment. Then he slowly began to smirk. Your brain was frantic. ’Oh god, oh my god, this isn’t happening’. The hand that lay on your forehead slid down to the back of your head, another hand found your waist. 

        “So ya are sick. Ya love sick!” He smirked triumphantly. Part of you wanted to grin and throw something clever back, the other part of you wanted to vanish into thin air. You were debating between the two (even though you could never actually vanish), when suddenly Racetrack Higgins was kissing you. And then you were kissing back. A weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You could tell that Race felt the same. The only reason you finally broke apart was for air. Panting slightly, Race grinned you, “Is dat why youse is always so skittish whenevers I’m around youse?” You nodded sheepishly, feeling a little bad. He must have thought you didn’t like him. Which was not the case, you more than liked him. He leaned in close, his lips almost touching your ear, “I'se suppose it’s a good ting dat love sickness is contagious." 

        You pulled away from him, cocking an eyebrow. Did he really feel the same way or did he just want a make out buddy. Of course, you would be happy to supply him with the ladder, but you really wanted something out of this. "Race, do you actually mean that or are you just using an excuse to have someone to kiss?" 

        Race blinked a few times, surprised by your question. "O’ course I means dat. I ain’t gunna use you. I honestly thinks dat you are the most beautiful goil I have ever seen an’ damn you can sell dem papes. I like dat in a goil!” You were about to say something else when your stomach reminded you what time it was. “I think we’s better get you sumthin’ ta eat”

        This time when you blushed, Race realized it was the most adorable damn thing. He released you from his hold and grabbed your hand. Tingles shot up through both of your arms. Race’s goofy grin got even wider because this time when he touched you, you didn’t shy away from him. For the first time in a long time, Race felt butterflies in his stomach. Gosh, you really must be something special.

The Exception

Here is a litlle something I wrote after watching The Exception.
Thanks to my bêta girl @tigpooh67 you’re awesome😘
And thanks to all of the amazing fanfic writers here, who inspired me with their words.
@frecklefaceb @kenzieam @beautifulramblingbrains @singingpeople @oddsnendsfanfics @pathybo and my ultimate muse @ashtotes 😍
Enjoy! !!

‘Knock knock’

She startled at the sound, closing the field of her bittersweet memories. Her hands still busy doing the dishes as she gets lost in her thoughts for what seemed a lifetime.


It has been weeks since she had sent the book to the headquarters where he was supposed to do whatever paperwork his country needed him to, where a contact in Berlin secretly messaged her.

She was wondering if she would ever get a chance to see him again, ignoring unknown answers of whether he received the book or if he was even still alive. No letter, no telegram. Nothing. The spy agent who informed her vanished. Just like she had. Gone. No news yet.

When she finally arrived in London she endured a dreadful debriefing from the secret agency that sent her to the Kaiser’s house. 

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Birthdays in a traffic jam

Title: Birthdays in a traffic jam

Fandom: OMGCheckplease

Pairing: Larissa Lardo Duan / Shitty Knight

Rating: PG-13 (for language)

Word count: 3320

Part 3 of The Shitty and Lardo Chronicles.  Also on AO3

The problem is traffic.

The problem is it’s four in the afternoon and everyone and their mother is out thinking that they’ve escaped early enough to avoid the home time traffic.  The problem is someone up ahead is honking angrily every three seconds.  The problem is some people can’t blare a horn politely.

The problem is they’re in a traffic jam.

The problem is Lardo’s in labour.

“I’m gonna have this baby in the car.”

Shitty looks calm and composed.  His eyes are focused on the unmoving traffic ahead and his knees aren’t bouncing but you’ve only to look at the bone white knuckle grip he has on the steering wheel and his twitching moustache to see that he feels otherwise.  That despite how he looks he is very aware of the active labour going on beside him and he is shitting himself.

The wheel leather squeaks under his hands.

“My darling, my queen, my reason for living,” he takes a thin breath, “please don’t because I don’t know how to deliver a fucking baby.”

Lardo flinches despite his even tone and her eyes flit to the rear view to check the backseat but of course it’s empty.  Xuan is not bouncing impatiently in her car seat because she’s at Dex and Nursey’s probably drinking too much sugary juice and watching cartoons that are slightly too old for her.  Shitty can swear all he likes now that they’re sponge of a two-year-old isn’t around. Truthfully Lardo wants to swear too but someone in this vehicle has to have their shit together.

She thought she had more time.


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Summery: Benny and Jenny Weir are the dynamic duo or as their cousin Stiles Stilinski calls them the terrible twosome.

Both having inherited special powers from their parents they are always in trouble, so when they get kicked out of Whitechapel after irritating the resident vampires and are shipped off to Beacon hills Stiles begins to see just how much trouble his baby cousins can be.

Teen Wolf/ My Babysitters A Vampire Crossover

“Come on up guys you’re gonna make me late I gotta pick up Scott.” Stiles yelled as he thumped on Benny’s bedroom door before heading down the hall to do the same to Jenny’s, he was surprised to see the pair emerge down stairs moments later without a fuss.

Stiles smiled kindly at Jenny who was a spitting image of his mother she had on a pair of white washed skinny jeans and one of her brothers hockey jerseys, she was in the hallway shoving on her scruffy white trainers when her brother jumped down the stairs grinning at his sister. He had on a white and red striped shirt, jeans and his old shoulder bag that used to be Stiles’ when he was in kindergarten.

“Ok let’s go in the Jeep, bye Dad.” Stiles yelled grabbing Jenny’s backpack from the kitchen counter, he handed it to her as he unlocked the car and felt a stirring sadness settle deep in his stomach. 

He remembered what it had felt like to lose his mom and he was glad he had Scott to help him through it but to be forced to move in with strangers just ten years after losing both parents and their Grandfather was a pain Stiles couldn’t and didn’t want to comprehend.

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anonymous asked:

n. 14 please? solangelo?

#14- “How can I hate someone that I’m in love with?”

A defeated sigh escaped from his lips as the deadly silent apartment welcomed inside, the usually cheerful and bright environment having been replaced by a gloomy aura, no lights present to help him make his way through the shadows in any way. Nico couldn’t recall when was the last time the place looked so void of life, his mind couldn’t seem to come up with any situation when that had been the case, even before the flat had become a property of his the rooms always appeared to have life of his own. The brown eyed wondered, as his melancholic glance analyzed his grim surroundings, what exactly had been the cause of it suddenly being stripped of all the colorful energy he had always linked to the area. In all honesty, he could make himself an idea.

It had been an accident, he hadn’t meant for it to happen, it just… It just did, he was there for a moment and then, the following second, just in the blink of an eye, his mouth decided to start spilling out words out of control, not giving his brain enough time to actually think about what he was saying and he cursed himself for that. You did it again, Nico thought for what possibly was the third time in a row as he somewhat hesitantly moved his arm to turn a few of the lights of the narrowed corridor on, a previously hidden path making its way towards him, you managed to blew something important once more.

He felt a sudden wave of anger rushing through his veins, fueling the anger he could feel growing inside of him even more, making it impossible for the owner of the dark chocolate irises to see a color other than red, the exact same thick shade that he could imagine his fearsome blood being: angry, unmerciful. If only he had controlled his emotions back on that moment, if only he had kept them in line when every single one of his actions mattered to the current scene being played out on reality. It was somewhat ironic the more he thought about it: Nico was in hat exact position simply because he couldn’t help but getting angry at the wrong person and there he was now, getting angry over it. He assumed, however, that this time it was justified, the wrong person wasn’t being given the blame; he had been the one at fault, nothing could change that.

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“Rejection”; Chapter Twenty

NOTES: ALRIGHT FOLKS!!! It’s been another ten chapters in, so you know what that means!!! All the links for chapters 11-19 will be posted here, so new people rolling on in to this blog can get a chance to either start from the beginning or perhaps pick up where they abruptly left off. 

With that all out of the way, I just want to personally thank everyone for the jaw-dropping amount of notes we got on the last chapter!! It surpassed even the very first chapter’s amount of notes, and for that I am so grateful!!

But enough of the chit-chat; here’s the links below, and I hope you all enjoy another segment to “Rejection”!!! Wooo!!!

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

(First, Previous, Next, and Chapter Ten links are at the end of the chapter.)


Sans chuckled, and turned to face Grillby. The flaming bartender was applauding with a content smile on his face, and a pink fire beneath his glasses. You waved farewell to him; finally, Sans led you out of the restaurant. His hand never left your side until you were outside the pub and into the cold air. You were glad you kept your scarf on during the dance; all that body heat was unbearable until the freezing winter wind hit you.

The skeleton slowly walked back to his house, with you following right besides him. You found that his soul was tucked away; you quickly took the liberty of guiding yours back into your chest as well. “That was freaking awesome back there, Sans.” You complimented, and he chuckled. “thanks, bucko. though, uh, can we like, never speak of this to anyone?” You laughed, and nod. “Sure. I won’t tell anyone, but word might get around about your skills. And fast, too.” Sans closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“i guess i’m going to have no choice but to blame it all on you.” “Fair enough.” You both dropped the topic, simply making small talk on the way home. You did not expect what was coming next; for Papyrus’s final game involved not just the three of us, but two others as well. Two people who you knew very well, but they knew nothing about you. Like usual.


Sans courteously opened the door for you, and you hurried inside. He had wound up giving you his coat again during the stroll home to retain your warmth; it was slightly lined with sweat from dancing, but you didn’t care. You hung the clothing item up on the rack by the door, and began taking off the younger skeleton’s scarf. “Paps, we’re ho-” Your sentence was cut short by three pairs of eyes on you and the short skeleton. You blinked, your jaw dropping.

It was none other than Undyne and Alphys. The whole gang was standing rather close to each other in proximity; when Sans went frozen by your side. “Uh….hello.” You croaked, and Undyne burst into an uproar. “WOAH!! Paps, is this the human you were telling me about?! NEAT!!” She ran over to you, and stuck out her webbed hand. “The name’s Undyne, punk! What’s yours?!” She yelled, and you shook her hand forcefully.

“(Y/N). But you can call me (Nickname), if you want.” She laid her hands on her hips, and smiled with her big, sharp teeth. “This kid’s got strength! You seem a lot tougher than Frisk.” She complimented, making you grin nervously. “Heh, thanks. But, um, I’m not a kid. I’m 16.” You laughed uneasily, and Sans stepped closer to you. Resting a hand on your shoulder, he winked at Undyne. “it’s a little fishy, i know. but she’s cool; just a pain in the bass sometimes.” He chuckled, and you elbowed him playfully.

“Shut up! You just need to ketchup to my level, short-stack.” You raised a hand teasingly above his head, and he smacked it away. Undyne groaned loudly, flopping down onto the green couch exasperatedly. “Not ANOTHER comedian!” Papyrus screamed with frustration, and Alphys giggled. It was her turn to introduce herself.

“H-hi! I’m A-Alphys, the R-Royal scientist, and that b-blue fish lady with r-r-red hair is Undyne, once again.” You took her small claw and shook it gently, politely kneeling down to her level. “How’s Mew-Mew-Kissy-Cutie going for ya?” You asked with a smile, and her timid behavior vanished instantly. “Oh my god! You know about that anime?!” She practically jumped up and down, while you saw Sans walk over to his brother. Papyrus must have had something important to tell him, because the younger brother was posing heroically and speaking in a very professional manner.

Directing your attention back to Alphys, you recalled how Frisk knows about the anime; not you. Luckily, you saved yourself with the perfect comeback that popped up into your head. “Uh, yeah! It’s, um, so much better than the second movie.” You stuttered, trying to remember the rants that the yellow dinosaur had with Frisk. Alphys shook her head with vigorous agreement, and stormed around like an actual cartoon character.

“I know, right?!” But before she could continue on, Undyne covered you by waving you over to chat more on the sofa. “Yo (Nickname), don’t tell me you’re a nerd too! Get over here and talk about yourself.” You silently asked the Royal Scientist if it was alright to put your conversation on hold; Alphys, who had by then returned to her sheepish demeanor, smiled and urged you on towards the Captain.

You thanked her; hesitantly, you plopped down onto the seat offered, and turned to face the fish lady. She scoot over, and threw both arms around the back of the chair.

Undyne was a tall woman; taller than Papyrus. She looked about 6’3”, but could be even taller in her full armor. “Glad to see we finally got a human who’s got height!” She picked up your gaze above her figure, and unexpectedly trapped you in a headlock. She started giving you a noogie, which hurt pretty bad. You tried to escape her grasp, and glared over at Papyrus for help. He was still scolding Sans; who of which looked like he could care less. You snickered, and decided to put up with the attack.

Undyne let go after another second or so, and continued her speech. “Anyways, I’m Captain Of the Royal Guard! And that dork-” she pointed to Papyrus, “-wants in. I’m going to be giving him some training tomorrow; and now that I see you have some muscles there, I wanted to know if you’d wanna come along.” You looked at her, stunned. “But we just met!” You laughed, and she slapped your back. “Pfft, Papyrus wouldn’t shut up about you until you arrived! He said that tonight we’re having some kind of game for a competition between humans and monsters.”

She smiled maniacally; out of the corner of your eye, you saw Alphys grab a wooden chair from the kitchen and bring it out into the living room. “And I LOVE competitions!” Undyne pumped a fist into the air, nearly punching you along with it. Papyrus must of finished his little chat with Sans, because he walked over to us girls and announced the game. Sans took a seat besides you, folding his leg over his lap. He gave you a lazy wink, and you blushed a slight pink. You didn’t think anyone noticed the little exchange, but Alphys did.

She catches everything that might give her a chance to fangirl; her eyes widened under her glasses, and she whipped out her phone. She sent herself an immediate reminder to tell Undyne about her little discovery later. Papyrus cleared his throat, and picked up the scarf hanging on the rack. He put it back on his “battle body”,  and began to explain the game.

“ALRIGHT, FOLKS! TONIGHT’S FINAL GAME WILL BE A FAMILY GAME NIGHT. I’VE ALREADY BROUGHT SNACKS AND DRINKS; WE’RE GONNA BE UP TILL DAWN!” He proclaimed, and Undyne cheered. You smiled at this, remembering that the fish lady was Papyrus’s best friend. They always did stuff like this together. Alphys clapped her hands, and Sans yawned. “whatever you say, bro. i’m down.”

Papyrus was happy that we were all ready to get started, and continued. “OUR FIRST PARTY GAME WILL BE: BONE BREAKER!”





Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are)

Chapter Twenty (You’re already here, pal.)

Chapter 9- The Forgotten

Summary: It’s time for Y/N to learn to defend herself. There might be more than one greedy Aunt after her or there might not be one at all….

Warnings: This Chapter is pretty chill

A/N: Its here! I finally decided to not be lazy for once in my life! And I typed it 😂😂😂. Enjoy~ @sandey12 Thanks bby for blowing up my notes 😘😘. I totally forgot I had to upload this chapter.


Maniel snaked his way toward me. He had officially gone crazy. I had no way to escape this lunatic.

“Y/N, why are you all the way over there?”

I stayed quiet, backing away only to crash into a rack of makeup. Maniel grabs me by the legs, and drags me out of the store; his grip was too tight for me to kick out, and my arms couldn’t reach his face to claw at him. I was completely and utterly defenseless.  

Suddenly,Maniel let go of my legs  ,  throwing me into someone else’s arms. The arms pushed me back onto the floor. Looking up, blue piercing eyes stared back at me coldly. The thing’s arms were long with sharp claws as hands. It was hunched over, but still stood no more than three feet than I. It’s teeth hung over its bottom lip with a little spit menacingly dropping off it. I squeaked; I may be a Demon-Werewolf hybrid but this thing could tear me apart in a matter of seconds.

Y/N, trust me, please.

I do. Just please hurry with whatever you are about to do. This thing scares me.

Manuel nodded to the huge beast who threw me on his back and started towards the exits. My wiggling skills were no match for mega-strength of Large Teeth ( his new name). Large Teeth opened the door to the park lot. Turning my head slightly left, I saw there were hardly any cars, except Bang’s. The mall did a handy job of evacuating everyone besides me.

Large Teeth paused in his a stride towards nowhere; I could feel his body practically shrink under me. He let’s go of me, but the fear and curiosity of the beast’s transformation makes me stay in place. His arms and legs take on a human form and his teeth shrink to normal size. A familiar face morphs into place.

“Hobi?” My mouth drops to the ground, “But how?”

“I will explain another time, for now, I need to get us safely home. Give me your hand. ”
“But what about Bang?”

“It is too late for him, sadly. Your scent lingers in his car, so it wouldn’t be of use to us. Trust me and give me your hand,” He offers me a smile.

He says to trust him a lot but why? I take his hand and we vanish.

I felt as if my body had been pulled through a mouse hole when I woke up.

“Aish, Hobi hyung. Why’d you rush it?“

“My spells only last for a few minutes after I turn back human. You should know this. ”

“I know… I just hate that you knocked her unconscious. ”

“ I didn’t knock her out! She couldn’t handle the sudden feeling of being stretched; it’s like that everyone’s first time. Including yours, Kookie. ”

Namjoon spoke up, “ Quiet down. She’s awake. ”

Groaning, I sat up, clutching my head, “Why do I feel like utter shit?”

Jin, who had been sitting beside me, backhands me.

“Because you were being pulled through the Vertex, as I like to call it, “ Hobi informed me. Seeing the confused expression on my face, he continues, “ It’s a portal from one place to another. It’s one of my six talents.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes., “ I can also do it, but it’s not as strong as his-”

“I can do something better than JK,” Hobi interrupted giggling.  

“Anyway, Y/N. are you okay?” Jin cooed.

“No I was thrown into a vertex, almost squeezed to death, and trapped inside a lingerie shop with a lunatic wolf. “

The boys grew quiet.

Hobi quietly says. “Sorry, Y/N. I tried to get to you as soon as I could. Unfortunately, his pack subdued me; Jungkook and Namjoon saved me, however.”

“It’s not your fault, Hobi. I don’t blame you,” I say with a gentleness. “It’s whoever is trying to kill that has to be stopped.”

Jimin speaks up, “Y/N, you know that your aunt is the culprit-”

“I know that, “ I give eye-contact to each wolf, “ But I feel as if she isn’t the only one. Aunt Noel has had countless opportunities to kill me. She wouldn’t have told me about the box my father left me. She only wants money; she doesn’t mean to murder me. Someone else is.

The boys nod in agreement.  

“Y/N is right, Namjoon,” Jin states.
Namjoon nods and addressed it, “ Well then, we must keep track of everyone that interacts with Y/N on a daily basis.  It’s the weekend, so school is not important for now. In the meantime, we will begin Y/N’s training. “

Yoongi lazily opens his eyes, “y/N, are you ready to be bewildered?”

“Of course not.”

“Well let’s begin.”

“Wait! Can I eat first?”

Jin leads me to into the living room which has been rearranged for the occasion. The television had been replaced with a white board. The couches had been moved to another room with only the single-person couch left.

Taehyung and Jimin stood to the side; Namjoon, Hobi, and Yoongi were across from them; Jungkook was near the board.

Jin explained, “ Before we begin, I want to give you a brief run-down. In the Supernatural world-Y/N, please sit down- powers are categorized into four categories: Manipulators, Strengths, Dark, and Elemental. Manipulators have skills and talents that allow them to control anything, especially powerful ones like myself. They can read minds, but they could also control what you feel, think, say, and do.  Few wolves have this, but other species like Sirens use them for bad.  Strengths are literally the strongest. In the wolf kingdom, they are Alphas. I’ll have to explain the social ladder of wolves another day- Y/N, are you still listening?”

I quickly shot up, “Y-Yes, I was just resting my eyes. “

Yoongi laughs and Hoseok shushes him.  

Jin rolls his eyes, “ As I was saying, Strengths are those like Namjoon and Yoongi. They have quick minds and could easily defeat an enemy that is lower than them. Elementals use the elements as their safeguard; fire earth, water and air. These are common with wolves who have special personalities; Hoseok, for example. He uses the air to create a vortex. Then there’s Dark. Dark is similar to dark magic. Demons are known for this, which is why they appear as poltergeists in the Human World. “

“Ok…Where do I fit in?”

“We don’t know. You could belong in a four categories because of your hybrid.”


Namjoon eases next to his husband, “ And that’s why we want to train you. Jin and Jimin will teach you Manipulation. Taehyung will teach you Dark.  Jungkook and Hoseok will teach you Elemental. Yoongi and I will teach you strength. “

“Taehyung, is the only Dark?”


“So who would you like to come to first?” Jungkook asks me. Something tells me he wants with him first.

“I’ll come with you.” I catch a glimpse of him smirking at Taehyung and Jimin, who were following the other boys out of the room. What’s with that?

“So Jin has told you the basics, thankfully, so Hobi-hyung and I could focus on helping you channel Elemental powers.  If it doesn’t work then it means that you’re not one of us.” He laughs at an unknown joke. He stops when he sees that neither or Hobi have laughed with him.

Hobi continues, “ There’s a simple test that requires the use of this white board. “ I nod.  “ Now you’re going to try and move this board with air. “

“The easiest way to learn is if you try without being taught. “

“Sounds philosophical.”

“I  try my best to be Namjoon.”

I take a deep breath.  I can do it.  If it’s anything like the mind-reading, I have to picture the wind. But how do you visualize something you can’t see? Wait… Yes you can. You can feel the wind, yet the trees gracefully dance, especially on lazy cloudy day. The wind is blowing harshly making the trees sway every which way.  

The board lies across the room. Whoops. Hobi and Jungkook’s eyes are wide.

“OK, now try fire. Just don’t destroy the board. It’s Namjoon’s favorite. “

Let’s try again. Fire can be imagined. It’s different colors based on different compound elements. Blue,purple, red-my favorite color is purple. The board, which had been replaced back onto the table by Jungkook. lights up into a pretty violet.  It diminishes with a poof, the board doesn’t have a scorch mark.

“Wow.  Y/N, you’re amazing,” Jungkook says in awe. He’s smiling at me, and I can’t help but grin back. “Can you try- Y/N, what’s wrong?”

My head is spinning just a bit too fast for my liking.

“Y/N?” Hoseok exclaims. “Namjoon, Jin! Something’s-”

Life Without Cake

@theboookofkells wrote this sequel to my A House Made of Cards fic and it rocks (ft. @smonstrum‘s Ghost!Reigen take on AHMoC, which also rocks)

And, since we’re tossing ideas around, I’m down for playing a bit of catch

There’s tension in Ritsu’s hands. He kneads his thumb along the unused paper plates, eyes set unblinking to Reigen’s ghost. He says nothing, and his lip curls, and a pulse of psychic energy snaps the air.

“You…piece of shit!” Ritsu yells, and he throws the stack of plates through Reigen’s body. They flutter into disarray, another mess on the floor, unperturbed by the ghost in their path. Reigen winces anyway.

“What?” Reigen asks out of shock. Then, more indignant, “What?”

“You think—something like this—this is too far?!” Ritsu tosses his hands out to present the room. The toppled chairs and shattered bulbs and torn banners, “You get unstable enough to smash a couple lights and now you’re asking me to exorcise you?!” Ritsu gestures again, fully, at everything now.

The leaking pipes, splintered sunlight, caved in walls,

“It’s more complicated than that!” Reigen answers.

You think?”

Gouged walls, sliced curtains, hissing gaslines

“I just thought—“

“—That you’re dangerous? That because you flashed a little psychic energy I ought to put you down? Sound familiar? Sound like anyone you know!? Think about what you’re saying. Think before you speak!

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Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Ball of Fur.

This is a phanfic based on a prompt I got sent here: (I have never written anything like this before so this is new haaaaa)

Title: Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Ball of Fur

Genre: Fluffy AU/Domestic

Description: Dan Howell has a special ability in which when feeling anxious/scared he can morph into his spirit animal…which just happens to be a cat. Cue him feeling terrified during a thunderstorm and Phil making him feel better. This is pure fluffy goodness with an AU twist!

Word Count: 1691

P.S. If you haven’t ever watched the Big Bang Theory, the ending might confuse you. 

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Foretold Tale

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29

Chapter o1. Intervening Realms

“Tell me,” he speaks with but a voice of a whisperer.  A gentle breeze riddles, invisibly guiding his words into your soul.  Rivers threaten to roll down your cheeks but you brave a facade, though you are sure, he could see right through you.  But it didn’t matter, did it?  He would drill you for your prophecies anyway.  

“General.  Let. Go,” you respond with what you willed to be a firm tone but the last decibels inevitably quiver at the sight of his diaphanous eyes of water.  Your slim fingers backtrack across the auburn wood of the tabletop as if the distance of two worlds wasn’t already strong enough to extinguish your last strands of hope.  You crush a tarot card within your hands.  With your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you squeeze out, “Please.  Things in the world of the living and the dead aren’t supposed to mix.  You will ruin the equilibrium and the imbalance will result in consequences neither of us can affor—“

“But I must save her,” the spirit cut you off with a tone of determination.  His palms crinkle at the fabric of his robe as he repositions with his kneels pressing against the floorboard.  An arrow pins your human heart as you urgently reach forward to stop him from humiliating himself in his stance of desperation.  

But even as a shaman, you were only able to spiritually communicate with ghosts, not physically touch them.  Your fingers slice through thin air.  

“I can’t let her die.”  Though translucent and weary, the droplets, formed beneath his eyes, drown you in vast oceans.  But wouldn’t it be better that way?  Lovers of separate universes would finally meet once again…even for just mere moments before paths diverge to new beginnings of disjointed fate. It would be long enough for a final goodbye, wouldn’t it?

“Orabeoni…” you helplessly call out, hoping he’d change his mind but knowing he would not.  

The corners of his heart-shaped lips twitch upward in a sullen smile as he susurrates the syllables of your name.  It is heavenly and purer than any voice of an angel but it destructs you like daggers shot straight into your soul.  His palm drifts millimeters above your fisted ones, just enough so that you could feel the chill of his presence but not enough to dispel the illusion of physical touch.  And you know you have just lost the war.  Despite knowing better, despite understanding that one mistake could cause catastrophe in both worlds, despite having already suffered punishment and stripped of partial power by your master for your previous aid toward this man…who…who you loved but could never be with…whether he was dead or alive…you surrender to those watery orbs of loyalty.  

Do Kyungsoo, intelligent scholar and versatile general of the imperial court, could claim any female’s heart as long as he willed, but he chose to hold the hand of a poverty-stricken damsel whose crippled left leg dragged with each step she took.  The royal princess, who had vied for the general’s attention and had requested her father to formally assign him the title of “Prince Consort” to bind him by marriage, ordered for her rival to be tortured and put to death.  

“Kyungsoo Orabeoni!  Orabeoni!” you hollered as you dashed down the imperial palace with your skirt gathered up within your hands.  Sweat dripped down your temples, not yet evaporated from your recent nightmare.  

You skidded to a stop in front of the scholar and his younger friend.  The latter, just as handsome and donning an air of valor, teased you with a handsome smirk.  “Why is the newly appointed imperial shaman running down the halls with such anxiety?” the scholar questioned.  

“General Kim,” you respectfully bowed and caught your breath, “May I have a word with General Do for a short moment.  I have important matters I must discuss with him.”

The two golden bachelors of the court exchanged curious glances, but it was the older who pardoned your worry by reassuring his friend, “Jongin-ah, we’ll review the new article of the law in the evening.  Meet me at the East Pagoda at sunset.”

With a prolonged look of concern for his friend and you, General Kim rested his case, nodded, and excused himself.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo narrowed his white-riched eyes after quickly concluding that your expression of vexation escalated the seriousness of the situation.  

You picked at the floral embroidery of your robe.  “It’s…It’s about Yeonhee-ssi…”

It was just one statement.  One statement that sent the devoted general sprinting from the East Wing all the way to the royal horse shed.  Your heart plummeted and rose as you scurried in pursuit of the agitated young man.  Guilt, fear, and worry coveted your helpless soul.  Nails from floorboards gnawed and defaced the intricate designs of your handcrafted shoes, which had been gifted by the royal queen on the day you were bestowed the title of “Imperial Shaman”.  But no effort would beat that of General Do’s care for his young maiden; he had vanished from your sight, leaving you to aimlessly seize thin air for support to calm your fearsome heart.      

A velvety voice asked for your attention as its owner clutched your wandering hand.  You tilted your chin up to face General Kim, who was all too curious and troubled by your perplexed expression to simply retreat to his home.  

“General!” you panted as he held your arms in support.  Within seconds, he had mounted on a horse with a hand outstretched to hoist you up.  Frightful at the sight of the energetic beast, you staggered back but to save Kyungsoo, even if your toes trembled or your trepid heart threatened to beat its last, you must.  Jongin latched onto your wrist and easily lifted you up to the front seat.

“Fill me in as we get there,” he instructed and commanded his sidekick to gallop forward.  You squeezed your eyes shut and squirmed as the sudden acceleration numbed your dewy skin.  

But the two of you were too late.  Blood splattered onto crème-colored malt as Kyungsoo had taken an arrow to the heart to protect his lover.  With widened eyes, Jongin and you could only watch from across the field.  Mixtures of images, some nostalgic memories, a few raw prophecies collided in flashes of colors before your eyes. Sweat soaked your palms as you tried with all your might to eject such haunting visions from swallowing you but, ultimately, you surrendered to the shock of heartbreak.  Your eyes rolled back as your body fell limp against Jongin’s chest.      

Seven days later, you discover Kyungsoo’s spirit wandering outside your chambers.  With paled lips and eyes of water, you rush forth to greet him.  For days, you had disregarded and denied any news of his death but in truth, you knew he was no longer a part of your world.  Of course you knew.  You are a shaman after all.  But seeing his spirit now left you with a bliss you hadn’t felt since he had left. At least, in a way, he is still with you…and he chose to be with you.

“How is she?” he questions.  Your smile weakens to a mere soft line.

“I can’t…tell you…” you turn away, “General, it’s been seven days.  You need to go to the underworld realm…”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t!  The last time I revealed information, I cost you your life!” you self-blame, “I won’t let you intervene with matters of the human world anymore or else your spirit will vanish to dust.”

“I don’t care.  Just tell me!” Kyungsoo uncharacteristically shouts in a tone he had never once used when conversing with you.  But pain is felt on both ends; you spot his spirit vacillate.  The lethal wound that had taken his life oozes with blood.  Drip by drip they taint the ornate carpet of your room but vanish just as quickly under the moonlight.  “Please.  Just tell me.  Yeonhee is innocent.  I can’t let her get hurt.”

“But I can’t let you get hurt either,” your lips ripple, “Because…I love you…”

Instead of widened eyes or a gape of his lips, the late general furrows his thick brows as if he had already known of your feelings toward him.  As you cup your face within your palms and release buried emotions of your wounded heart, outside, veiled by your chamber doors, another young general sighs and retreats off to the twilight.    

A/N: Ahhh, pilot chapter of Foretold Tale!  Did you guys like it so far?  So hints of a love triangle (well, if you include Yeonhee, it’s love square) but basically, main girl calls Kyungsoo “Orabeoni” [kinda like “Oppa" in historical terms] because they are childhood friends.  Kyungsoo and Jongin are best friends; Jongin has feelings for the girl but girl has feelings for Kyungsoo ^-^

New chapter each day, please like, comment, follow, spam my inbox to show support!!  It really means a lot to me because this is basically my comeback series T^T!!  

P.S. Do you guys like the banner?  Heh, manipulating Jongin and Kyungsoo with sageuk attire was so fun.  

>>Story Master Archive<<

kiichu  asked:

Hello! I would really love to request a fic where both MC and Seven are asexual. That one part in Seven's route where he wants to "hold you tight and love you all night" made me a bit anxious since I hc him as ace!!! So I hope it's okay for me to request 707 and MC having a totally sexless relationship, but still being pretty close, if not physically? Any situation will do, maybe they tell each other their orientation at the same time??

Phew! Finally got this one done! Still pushing through that writer’s block, ugh. But I did it! :) I am 1000% here for ace!Seven oh man.

Mild spoilers for Seven’s route (specifically day 10)!

{ao3 link for mobile}

Today was the day. Seven was going to tell you.

He had been putting it off since the day he met you. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was because he was scared.

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(Edit)Anon Summary: In which our reader ended things with Leonard Snart after he hurt one of her friends. Until Leonard travels back in time before the break up.

Anon Request: Leonard imagine where the reader was a part of team flash, but was dating leonard. Then she breaks up with him because he hurt Barry in some way. Then while Leonard is on his mission during Legends of Tomorrow, he meets her past self before they broke up. *no smut please and thank you*

Warning: Fluff!


You were confused.

You’ve never seen your boyfriend so torn between stressed and also excited at the same time. ‘Is that even possible..?’

Your boyfriend of over nine months had your face cuffed in his hands, his eyes looking over your face as if he haven’t seen you in years.

“It’s really you..” He would say in a low tone over and over again. You stared into his blue eyes that held so much love and heartache? You couldn’t understand way.

“Yeah’s me.” You said, raises your eyebrow at him in a curious way. “What are you doing back home? I thought you went out on a job with Mick?” You asked.

His clear blue eyes continued to stare at you, gazing over your face. Even though you’ve been with him for a few months, he’s still able to leave you blushing. Which soon happens as he continues to stare.

You see a small smile form on his lips while he gently moves his thumb over your lower lip. All thought you were fine with it, you knew Leonard wasn’t the best at showing you affection so you knew something was up.

You grab a hold of his wrist, moving his hands off your face before taking a step back. “Okay, what the hell has gotten into you?” You ask, crossing your arms.

Leonard doesn’t move his spot but he moves his hands down to his ides and you were finally able to get a better look at him.

He wasn’t in his normal blue parka that he always wear on a job, hell even when he’s staying over at your place he has the damn thing on. But instead he’s in a more darker blue coat that’s thinner that his normal coat. You also notice that he looked a lot thinner too, not sickly but a lot more in shape then when you last seen him. Your eyes finally landed on his face you saw a little difference. His hair has grown out a little while the bags under his eyes looked a lot darker while his normal tanned skin seemed pale.

You couldn’t help yourself. You took a step towards him again, your worry washing over you and now, it was your turn to hold his face between your hands to look him over.

“Are you okay Lenny?” You asked softly and you watch him close his eyes, leaning his face into he palm of your hands.

“Better now.” He lets out in a low tone. You sigh to yourself, remembering that he’s not much of a talker but it didn’t stop you from prying until he finally talked.

You lead Leonard over to the couch and sit down, his eyes still focused on you and yours on him. You’re both silent for a moment before he finally speaks.

“I know this maybe hard for you to understand so I’m not going to waste time trying to explain it too you but, I’m not the same man I used too be.”

You look at him curiously. “Okay?”

“I’m serious Y/N.” He says quickly, cutting you off. “Before anything happens between us in the future I just want to let you know so you’ll always remember this. Us. What we had. I want you too remember that it was real, that I would never hurt you or your friends. You meant the world to me and I would give up everything I had just to be with you again. Hell, I’m basically doing it right now..” He lets out a dry chuckle before he continues.

“I know I’m nothing but a criminal, I did bad things to good people which only got people hurt. I was stupid, cocky, and so full of myself that I didn’t realized how important you were too me until I lost you.” He soon grabs a hold of your face again.

“I love you Y/N and I know you won’t understand any of this but another year or so from now you’ll understand why I was hear. I can’t tell you anything else but please remember that I love you and I always well.” Leonard soon leans in, kissing your forehead which catches you off. You were too caught up in Leonard’s confession that you didn’t really pay attention to him up and leaving.

The sound of your apartment door brings you back to reality and you get up quickly, rushing to the door and pulling it open to an empty hallway. But soon, loud sound similar to almost of a helicopter starting up drags your attention to your living room window, seeing something you’ve never thought you would see before in your life.

A large ship lifts off into the air on top of the buildings across from yours before it takes off into the sky and vanishes into thin air.

You soon sit back on your couch in awesome of what you just saw since you’re a woman of science and then, everything started to click.

From the way Leonard was behaving too what he was saying. He was speaking in past-tense and from what he was wearing and how he looked a good two too three years older than he did just the night before he left for Starling City.

That Leonard, the one who looked at you with so much love and wonder. The one who willingly spoke what was actually on his mind. The one who confessed his feelings for you.

That Leonard was from the future.

Your theory soon came reality when a year later Barry Allen, your best friend, was rushed into S.T.A.R labs be Joe. Barry groaned loudly in pain, a large bruise on his side visible as Cailtin rushes over.

“What’s going on?” You ask, rushing in with Cisco and Iris.

“Frostbite.” She says quickly, grabbing all of her tools.

“What happened Barr?” Joe ask, a clear sign of worry showing on his face as he looks at his son who’s in pain.

“Snart.” Barry lets out through his teeth, throwing his head back in pain as Iris reaches out, holding onto his hand. “Don’t worry Barry, you’re going to be fine. You’re lucky you got here in time.” Caitlin says.

You look around the room as your friends, no, at your family. Seeing the worried and pain looks on your face causes you snap. “That is it!” You soon turn and quickly marching out of the room.

“Y/N, wait!” You hear Cisco calling out to you, stopping you in the hallway.

“I’m sick of this Cisco..I can’t do this anymore.” You let out, fighting back your tears of pain.

“Do what?” Cisco ask, trying to calm you down. “Be with him. I can’t be with Snart anymore.” You say, leaning back against the wall, tears running down your face.

“He doesn’t care how much you guys all mean too me. He doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants. I should of listened to Joe and Barry when they told me he’s nothing but back news and now..”

“And now you’re already in love with him.” Cisco finishes your sentence, causing you to look up at him as he gives you one of his many friendly smiles.

You give him a sad smile in return before leaning off the wall. “I don’t love him enough to look past him hurting my family.” You say before you turn once again and leave out the hallway and out of S.T.A.R labs, knowing what you must do.

You found Snart rather quickly at one of his many hideouts. You walk in quietly as you watch him toying with his cold gun, probably fixing it up or something.

Your heart sinks as you look at his tall frame, remembering what happened a year ago when the Leonard from the future came to visit you. Remembering every little word he had said.

Leonard Snart loves you and you love him, but at what cost? You tried so hard to make things work with him, to try and prove to Barry and all of them that Leonard isn’t as evil as he may seem. But every time, Snart only proved them right and left you feeling like an idiot.

You were tired. Tired of trying to defend Snart. Tired of watching him put innocent people lives in danger just for the hell of it. Tired of him hurting your friends. Tired of him hurting you.

”Are you just going to stand there or are you going to get over here?” His voice draws you back to reality as you look at him, his back still towards you.

You step over closer too him as you take a deep breath. “Snart, we need to talk..” You say, gaining back some of the anger you had before.

”Snart? You haven’t called me that in over a year.” He says as he turns, leaning back against the table with his arms crossed. Snart looks you up and down before noticing he distance you’ve put between the two of you.

You look at his clear blue eyes, seeing something flash through them as he stares at you but it’s gone quickly. You felt all of your anger and confidence sway but you stop yourself.

You take another deep another deep breath before speaking. “Look Snart, I don’t really know what we’re doing here or how it’s come to this..but I wanted you to know that I love you..” You pause, seeing the serious look on his face waver a bit.

”And I know that you love me..even though you may not say it or show it. I know it’s there..” You continue. “But who love shouldn’t be…this. I shouldn’t have to worry about you just pick and leaving me one day and I sure as hell shouldn’t be worried if you’ve finally killed my best friends.” You say, feeling that anger rising inside you as you heart breaks.

”I love you Lenny, I really do but..I can’t do this anymore.” You let out, hearing your voice crack as you try to fight back your tears.

Leonard looks at you, sitting up straight now. “Y/N..”

”Don’t..” You hold up your hand, stopping him from speaking. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for all of this. I don’t want you to think I hate you because I don’t.” You soon take a step towards him before reaching up, cupping his face in your hands just as his future self did a year ago.

”I know this isn’t really you Len. I know this isn’t how you want things to be.” You say softly. “I saw it when no one else did. I saw it..there’s good in you Len. Please remember that.” You soon let go of his face before stepping back.

Leonard doesn’t move but you can see something in him change. Without speaking, you turn on your heel, walking out of the warehouse knowing that this isn’t the last time you’ll be seeing Leonard.

Because the next time you do, he’ll be a whole different man.


I’ve made a masterlist! If you want to read all the fanfic posted, just click here! Welcome back guys!!

Clarity: 1


Chapter 1: Skipping 

Summery: She skipped her session for a break, while he skipped his for a breather. 

Bucky x Blind! Reader

The sinless feathers dusted the metallic swings, as they swayed back and forth with the raw gusts of air. The eerie screech of the rusted metal plates clang together. The once apricot colored leafs crackling under the arctic air, caking the pure snow, leaving dots of brown and orange, even light scarlet.

The City was quite, save for the noiseless rustling of the nude tree branches, the silent chirps of the green insects. As the moon hid behind the clouds, leaving a dusty blue hue to fall over the streets. With the lampposts hung high over the heads of the citizens.

It happened fast, almost as if it was planned. The car honked, slammed its breaks and skidded over the sleet coated roads. The cars expensive front had slammed into my chest, sending me spiraling over the jagged pieces of left over broken glass, that gathered at the brim of the roads.

It happened fast. How I was sent to the hospital, how they wrapped a bandage over my head. How they had announced I had lost my sight.

It happened fast, how the season changed, how many days my family spent at work rather then around the table cracking jokes with my older brother, as my mother serves a dollop of mash potatoes, my dad at the side as he try’s to sneak in another helping serving of meat.

It happened fast. How everything changed.

But it was fine. I foun- or the more appropriate term would be- my Mom had found an amazing groupie of people who had lost their sight just like me. I chalked up the whole ordeal to my Mom finally giving up on getting the money for the surgery and wants me to finally accept the reality of my fate. It was a lot of going back and forth. I didn’t like it, the sessions. The group of blind people were- as bluntly as I can put it- born blind. They never experienced the blinding (pun intend) rays of the sunset, as the yellow meshes with red and creates the warmest orange known to men kind. They never had the advantage of seeing the world, so they sat down together and blabbed around how being blind wasn’t a disadvantage.

I had to disagree, for obvious reasons.

Being robbed from my sight had left me weak, I was always lost. I didn’t have enough money to get a dog, so I was left with a cheap clunky metal cane. Tapping the ground as a form of echo location. It was scary. How everything was dark now. I could see warm yellow spots, only a reminder of the scorching sun I would never be able to witness again.

So, every Friday, I would be driven to the blind community sessions. It was very annoying. Every session was the same, you would introduce yourself followed by telling how your week had been, then the ring leader would close of the day by reminding up how blindness was in fact not a definition of being a handicap.

It got annoying, after the third session, I found my self practically coaching myself on how to approach my mom about not wanting to attend the stupid ‘happy go lucky’ meetings. I would come up with speeches, each living up to its own ruthlessness. Only when the day had come when I mustered up the bits of courage I had. I wilted in shame, my head hung low as I begged my Mom, each word escaped from between my quivering lips, my teeth chattering like broken glass. As my hands flung every which was, my chest rose and fell with each sharp intake.

When the argument had been left lingering in the air, we both parted ways. Her footsteps were sharp and loud, quite the opposite of mine, which were weary and small. It took time, before I had slammed the door shut. Anger seeping right to the brim of my fingers, released on the old splintering wood.

So, I went ahead and drew a mission of a protest in my head, but it was funny how it had vanished once my Mom had dragged me out of the house in God knows what.

Another meeting, followed by the second, trailing by the third and I found my self sick of my new life.

I never had the privilege of choosing my outfit anymore. I didn’t know what my mom dressed me in, not that I minded, it’s just something else I’ve been robbed of. Then I didn’t know where I was, all the time. The old rusted pice of metal wasn’t much help as it created an even louder echo then the ground. So I would always find my steps to be slow, now I knew where the phrase 'slower then molasses’ came from.

I obviously don’t have the freedom anymore. Freedom of going out, without my mother linking her arm through mine. I know I should be thankful, and I am, but the constant reminder was… quite agitating.

Hearing stuff was a challenge. I had to listen carefully, albeit living in a City where night fall doesn’t mean sleep was quite… challenging. New York was, in many ways different. From on sight muggers to honking car crashes.

I became a drag, or more like extra luggage. Linking arms with mother became a new habit. Hearing her comforting words became a must, as the soft caresses here and there were quite mandatory. What was left of my independent self now became the most dependent human to live.

Food would be shoved down my throaty at times, it’s like they forget I’m blind not paralyzed- which at times I wish I was instead of blind.- mothers friends would ask for advise between this dress and that dress only to realize who they were talking to.  

It was a very different experience. Ties with friends became loose. As non of them knew what to do when all we use to do was watch movies and go shopping. Guess their true colors became vivid.

Non the less, the sessions continued. Week would follow by another week, as those weeks would turn to months. Each Friday of every month would be the most dreaded day to come.

Sessions with Harry Mon became my worst nightmare. His voice echoes in my ear drums at night after every session,  that I just came to accept everything he says. I even opened up a few at some point.

But this time, I was sick of it. I just had enough. Mothers car came to a sudden halt as she parked in one of the spots, her car door opened, before she came skidding next to mine. Helping me from around the seat belt and on my own two feet.

“Take care, dear.” She patted my back once she had walked me to the steps. The warmth of her palm had left a haunting reminder of what I would do later on.

But I had to, going inside was like accepting defeat. But after a few minutes, the same doors to Hell had opened up and I walked across the street, with help from the rod between my fingers and the pedestrians that helped with directions.

Like that, I found my self dragging my heavy feet over to the library. The same library I would come to when I had homework. Back in the day when I would attend collage to- where I wanted to master in nursery school. Such a dream… such a dream that was shattered with the blink of an eye.  

The place was quite. Obviously.

And I strolled around, from memory, I found the table at the edge of the library, the one that no one ever comes near.

So I sat, and sat, and sat.

By the end of the day- a reminder of my watch- I made my way back to the therapy building and stood before the double glass doors.

Mother never found out, but the smile that I sported that one night, had given her the wrong idea. As she would gush on and on about how I was finally becoming my old self.

My old self… the person I didn’t even recognize anymore.

So months would pass, and I found my self in the same library. I would go around the place, crane clanking to the carpeted floor and my fingers skimming the spines of each bibliography. I would act like my old self. The one who would grab chunks of books and take them home. I would also listen, people sure told a great deal of stories as kids ran around with their mothers hushing them to sit, as some decent teenagers went ahead to volunteer for reading time. What was once 'Friday Hell’ now became my paradise. I looked forward to Friday more then I would have liked to admit.

It was the only day where I wouldn’t be babied down to a rag doll. Where there was no 'Do this and do that,’ followed by 'Oh- dear. I forgot your blind…’ Friday, was my paradise.

My smiles had spread around false hope. Father worked less now, his old body taking a toll on him. I didn’t expect less. If anything, I felt so bad of having him worry so much for something I could have prevented. Brother on the other hand… was a loss cause. He worked for Mr. Stark, brother wouldn’t specify exactly what he does… but knowing him he probably cleans the toilets. If that didn’t break my spirit try adding his girlfriend of three years who he was about to engage had dropped him like last months hand bag. All because he was working for his little poor sister, and not paying her debt.

He pulled through tho. Some Friday’s he would  drive me. His tone had changed, now holding pity and sorrow. Something I was scared of for weeks now. Non the less, mother and brother contributed all their time to work. Father now works half time, instead spending his free hours with me.  

Another reason why I now look forward to Friday. On normal days, it would be hard to find time to my self as mother brother and father would be seen with me. The only time they would leave me alone was when I wanted to use the washroom.

Friday strolled around, the start of November already piling chunks of ice on the streets. And I found my self sitting on 'my’ chair. A few days back my brother had brought a new phone, the app 'audio books’ already installed. So I listened to books with the help of Siri. Something I was quite… thankful for… Save that for thanksgiving dinner.

Listening to book, after book, every Friday was my new hobby. My table at the library with my chair, on every Friday became my ritual.

Until it all changed again.

It was another Friday where brother had the pleasure of driving me to work, his corny jokes never faltered to sketch a grin over my face. Then he walked me over to the therapy building. His hands securely wrapped around my shoulder.

“I’m so happy your doing good.” He had uttered, I knew he was shaking, just by the way his words vibrated from around his lips. “It’s nice to know your patient until I can come up with the money.” Then he dropped down and kissed my head. His warm lips left a tingling sensation over the skin of my skull. The roots of my hair standing for a bit at the new form of affection.

The guilt for skipping those lesson for almost six months had started to bubble within my stomach. The way my palms became moist, to the way my eyes shifted from side to side even when I saw pitch black.

So I waved. Then went in, and thought. What would happen if I just go this one meeting. It would be fine, surly it would. Then breaking my ritual, and going back home with a heavy head just didn’t sound quite appealing. Plus this past week was even worse then ever. But each day I tugged through chanting 'Friday, Friday, Friday…’ only for brother to slip the lid of my lies.

But I bolted out of the therapy. Right across the streets which I just so happen to have memorized by each step of my foot. Counting until I had felt the raw glass between my mittens and fingers. So I shuffled in, hearing more noise then any other day. It was weird, but then again, schools sometimes brings their students to start learning from outside sources- stuff where google or weren’t involved.

Either way, my legs- as if a mind of their own had dragged them selfs over to the table I had claimed as mine. Pulling out my headphones and phone, I went ahead to fix out my bag before hard and long strides of feet came crashing into one of the metal rods of my chair, he must have been wearing heavy combat boots, or just thick boots in general. His grunts must have been his way or apologizing. Because then his ruthless steps had followed in front of me in the chair.

I was annoyed. From all of the place in the library he just so happened to sit across from me. Why? I didn’t know. So, his presence was something new. I didn’t need heed him much thought, instead I continued to do my normal Friday ritual.

When my phones interrupted the narrator of my new book, I knew it was time to leave. So I stood up, wrapping my scarf around my neck, followed by buttoning my jacket and pulling my tote bag with everything I had in hand.

“Good bye.” I whispered softly. It was only something nice. It’s not like I knew much of the man… or so I hoped he was a he.

A gruff 'hmm’ and it was quite again. So I walked away. Crane in hand and a smile plastered over my face.

When my brother picked me up, he talked about how he was almost half way through our goal. Then he went ahead and talked about the new slang, something I was deprived of. His sentences were more enjoyable. If I didn’t know any better I would say Mr. Stark had promoted my brother. But I didn’t ask… I didn’t say much, because the mystery man in my meeting had taken up my mind.

Even during lunch on early Monday afternoon where his presence invaded my mind. Which then followed by late Tuesday brunch. The lingering thoughts didn’t falter, as dreams evaded my mind on late Wednesday night. Thursday was spent high tailing it around the city with mother as she entered and exited each shop adjacent to one another. And Friday afternoon was then spent in the library.

So, clutching my fingers around my phone, I entered the double glass doors of the library. Walking the same counted steps I ended up next to my chair. But the presence of the same man haunted the chair. His noiseless grunts and silent murmurs could be herd a mile a minute. As he muttered incoherent sentences about 'Steve said this,’ And 'Steve said that.’

“Could I please sit here…?” My voice was frail, softly worded and lost between the air conditions obnoxious sound.

The same grunt had emitted from the depths of his throat. “Hmm…”

So I sat. It was awkward. Because for some reason I felt his eyes on me. He knew I was blind, the color around my pupils had washed around to a faded grey, with my cane at hand. So brushing off that weird feeling, I unclipped ny jacket and placed it behind my chair, unwrapping my scarf and scrawling it around in my tote bag- which then followed by being set next to my feet. Phone in hand I went about to whispering in the mic area with Siri.

The narrators words had almost lulled me to sleep. After seven months this became such a routine that it was second nature. So, what seemed like eons, my phone timer had went off. And just like any other day, I stood up, and fixed my jacket and scarf, grabbed my back and cane.

“Good bye…” The same whisper had left from between my lips. His usual grunts as my reply and I left.

This just might be a good different… I don’t know though… I don’t know.


English is my 2nd language. Please excuse any mistake an if there’s is a Beta here and want some to help me… please tell me.


Tags Open: 

Daughter's keeper


Pairing: Reader x Cas

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: It’s based on this awesome imagine from this incredible blog. I just changed it a little. Instead of Dean being the reader’s big brother he’s the reader’s dad.

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anonymous asked:

HI :-) if you take any prompts can you please write a story where a witch make a spell to the pack in which they doest't remenber anything (like in the episode tabula rasa of Buffy, if you saw it???) and for reason Stiles and Derek think they are together but when the spell blow off everything is very awkward because they don't actually are together??? but of course sterek happy ending, because you know... (I love you're writing!)

One minute Stiles is arguing with Derek in the Jeep about what radio station they should be listening to; Scott in the back groaning; Allison hitting her forehead on the window dramatically as Derek begins waving his hands in the air— totally picked up that habit from Stiles, ha, sucker— the next they’re swerving to avoid a woman in the road.

“Fucking—” Stiles tries to guide them gently into the embankment as Derek throws a hand across his chest, and they collide into a tree with a sickening crunch. 

There’s a flash of purple light and then nothing.


Stiles comes to with a strange woman wrenching the door of his car off.

“Jesus Christ!”

There’s a snarl from beside him, and a man with insane sideburns and a whole lot of teeth lurches forward. Stiles flinches as he waits for the dude to bite his face off, but instead there’s a howl of pain in his ear. He snaps his eyes open to see the guy taking a knife to his back— possibly meant for Stiles, maybe he’s been dealing drugs or stolen money? who the hell would want to stab him?!— and then Scott, oh god, Scott has fur on his face, too! Scott’s leaping through the broken window and pushing the woman away from them.

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~6.1k words

Characters: Furuta Nimura, Arima Kishou, Mentions of Kaneki Ken and a few others.

Pairings: Furuta Nimura/Arima Kishou

There are a few hints you can take as vague one-sided Furuta/Kaneki and/or Arima/Kaneki if you want, but that’s up to you.

Warnings: A lot of this is just porn; breath-play; BDSM elements; no explicit discussions of consent, safe words, or negotiation (though it is a pre-established pseudo-relationship); less than healthy relationship dynamics; some dark psychological stuff, weird self worth/self image issues idk; some gruesome imagery; discussion of canon-typical violence.

“additional tags”: pre-established non-relationship; love hotels; Raising child double agent soldiers does not produce psychologically healthy individuals - who’d have thought?; extended metaphors, some parts border on vaguely surrealist pseudo-philosophical absurdist prose poetry, obligatory lamp-shading of evil villain lair design

Notes: This started out as a joke in my head and then somehow morphed into a dark psychological study of both Furuta and Arima. With sex.

It’s currently canon compliant, but might stop being canon compliant as soon as the spoilers for :re 64 drop, and if not then, I suppose any chapter after that. Currently, it takes place during the events of :re 63.

A while ago, someone sent me a message asking what I thought Furuta might be like, deep down, in light of being raised at the Garden, possibly to be an agent of V. I didn’t answer you because I was writing this fic. So here you go, Anon, my portrait of the darker sides of Furuta’s psyche. With Porn. Lots of Porn.

Oh god. I had no idea writing porn was so hard. I have a new found respect for all those fanfic writers out there.

I just really hope Ishida stops putting Furuta in panels with hot guys because my brain seems to have a problem.

just a heads up - this is written in the limited third. Furuta is not necessarily a reliable narrator for how I see Arima, or even how I see Furuta for that matter.

heads up number two - I’ve been staring at this fic for something like 14 hours straight trying to get it done before spoilers for the next chapter come out. I’ve read it through a bunch of times, but I apologize if there are mistakes or parts that don’t flow right. I don’t really have a beta reader or anything for my TG stuff. I’m still working up to transferring all my fic over to AO3, but please, please feel free to send me con-crit here. I went to school for creative writing and I’ve done workshopping IRL. Con-crit is super appreciated. I’ve never actually written anything like this one before.

Headcanons: Furuta=Souta. Species ambiguity because I can. The CCG and V are not the good guys. At least not when it comes to raising mentally healthy child soldiers. 


“Oh, come now, Kishou-san. It certainly could have gone worse.” He jogs a few steps to keep stride slightly ahead. Arima may only be five centimeters taller, but he walks with an almost obnoxious efficiency. Like a machine. Furuta can feel the breath of Arima’s sigh against the hair on the back of his neck. This, he thinks, is a pleasant sort of shiver. He smiles wide, though Kishou cannot see it.

Arima has the keys, but Furuta slides into the drivers side of the car. Kishou stands for a moment in front, face impassive, for reasons Furuta can only guess at, before resigning himself to the reality of the situation and coming around to the passenger side. He fishes the keys out of his suit pocket, but he doesn’t hand them over. Instead, he cradles them in his lap. Sunlight filters through the tinted window of the windshield and dances between the metal of the keys and Arima’s glasses, splashing little droplets of light around the car’s interior.

Arima Kishou is a puzzle box and he’s trapped even himself inside. Which part should Furuta press down to make words come out? He really must be careful or the whole thing will only lock up tighter.

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