depends on how much she twists it

What do you think is worse,” she asked quietly, twisting her favourite bracelet around her wrist, “having your heart broken or breaking a heart?” Her friend glanced at her curiously but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. She couldn’t, not with the guilt that was clearly written across her face.
“It depends, I guess,” he replied carefully. “Having your heart broken is awful, especially in the exact moment it happens. You feel as though your airways have been cut. You forget how to breathe. At first you feel too much and then you’re in denial and feel nothing at all, just emptiness. But it gets better. Sometimes within months, and sometimes it takes you years to move on. But eventually you’ll heal.” She looked up, biting the inside of her cheek. “And if you break a heart?”
He hesitated, pointedly glancing at her wrist. “Well, you can’t break a heart and be careful about it. You can’t make it hurt any less, no matter how much you don’t want the person you love to be in pain. I’d say breaking someone’s heart scars you just as much as having your own heart broken.” When she didn’t say anything, he spoke again. “Are you about to break someone’s heart?” Slowly she took off her silver bracelet and placed it on the table. He recognised it now as it sparkled faintly in the bright light - it was the bracelet her boyfriend had given her on their first anniversary. “Yes,” she replied with tears in her eyes, touching the bare inside of her wrist, “I’m afraid I am.
—  Excerpt
n.j.
Typical (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Summary: Typical fuckboy Park Jimin, with the dangerously black hair tucked into his hat, the khaki tight joggers that he purposely wears to show off his length, and the countless black and white long sleeves he owns, has a mind as dirty as his pair of white Vans can get. Yet he’s exceptional in one thing: academics.

Genre: tutor!jimin, fuckboy!jimin, college!jimin, soft smut

Warning: blowjob, handjob, (a bit of) cumplay

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: This is short and something I wrote on an impulse  (edit: 10/15: i had my friend help me write the smut part because oh my frickin god i am terrible at smut)


Jimin’s often known for lingering for a little bit after his evening classes to flirt with a voluptuous girl; his type. He’ll usually wait for her to pack up her things while tossing him signs with carnal glances. The fuckboy doesn’t even need signals to know what she wants because he already knows that they both want the same thing.

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to catch up to his type, walking her back to her dorm. Jimin usually gets invited in and sneaks out at one in the morning. One in the morning is his time to catch up on his homework that he didn’t do until the sun rises. Once the sun rises, he’s knocked out till noon.

Here comes a time when Jimin needs to start earning money to pay for his college tuition because his younger brother of two years is entering college next semester. His parents can’t possibly afford paying for two wild sons, so Jimin has no choice but to look for a job on campus.

And he finds one that he’s good at: tutoring.

Keep reading

I Don’t Even Know Your Name: Part One

Request: Can you do a request where y/n is a singer and she isn’t that famous but Shawn is like enamored by her and he sorta brings her to fame and she’s super shy and idk fluffy ending with some fluffy kisses???? 

A/N: At first this was meant to be just one imagine, but the plot that I came up with in my head is actually more lengthy than I planned. So I decided to make this into a series! 

Part Two 


Shawn watched the clock as he held his phone in his hands, bouncing his knee up and down. Time was ticking slower the more he could feel his anticipation grow. He’s been waiting for this the whole day. The possibility of miscalculating time zones constantly ran through his mind, but he made sure his math wasn’t even off by a minute. Her tweet did, in fact, say seven that night sharp and he was only five hours behind.

His phone suddenly interrupted the silence with a loud buzz, followed by a ding. Quickly clicking on the notification, he felt an immense amount of relief to see her face taking up the whole phone screen. She was obviously dressed for comfort with an oversized hoodie and her hair out of the way. A guitar rested on her lap, her body leaning over it as she scrolled through the comments.

“Good afternoon, well night,” she laughed. He watched as she gestured towards to what looked like her bedroom window. It was pitch black outside already. “Or morning. Depends where you are.”

Afternoon, Shawn thought to himself.

If only the whole world knew how much he was infatuated with her. At first, she was just one of those small singers that he would see when he scrolled through Instagram, but there was something about her that had caught his eye. Maybe it was the way she put her own twist on everything she did or the cute little wrinkle she would get whenever she scrunched up her face while singing a certain part. There were a million things.

“Good news, I’ve actually been writing a whole lot. I just have to start recording. It’s gonna take forever, but you guys are gonna like it.” She turned the camera towards a little corner in her room. “The next few weeks are gonna be spent right over there.” A microphone along with a whole set up consisting of a laptop and other equipment sat on a desk. “It’s my little makeshift recording studio.”

Shawn couldn’t imagine trying to record a song all by himself. There were so many technical things that went into it, but she did it all on her own. No record labels, no assistance, no nothing. It was just her, which was another thing he found captivating.

Her fingers gently strummed the strings, playing a soft chord. Shawn tried to figure out what tune she was humming, but he had no luck.

“I’ve been listening to The Neighborhood so much lately, so here’s a little taste of their song called The Beach,” she said repositioning herself.

If I told you that I loved you
Tell me, what would you say?
If I told you that I hated you
Would you go away?
Now I need your help with everything that I do
I don’t want to lie, I’ve been relying on you

All the stress that he carried on his shoulders melted away as soon as she started singing. There had always been something different about her voice that hit him like no other. Maybe it was how smooth it was, or the little rasp that would come out every once in awhile. He had never heard a voice quite like hers.

Fallin’ again, I need a pick-me-up
I’ve been callin’ you friend, I might need to give it up

I’m sick and I’m tired too
I can admit, I am not fireproof
I feel it burning me
I feel it burning you
I hope I don’t murder me
I hope I don’t burden you
If I do, I do

Her strumming had gotten louder, and so did her voice. Her eyes were closed with her eyebrows drawn close together, showing that little wrinkle he oh so loved. He could tell the chorus meant a lot to her and it worried him because there had to be a reason why. Judging by the lyrics, it couldn’t be a good one.

If I meet you in the middle maybe we could agree
You make me feel little how you’re looking at me
And you can throw me shade, all it does is just cool me off
First it just threw me off, now I’m just moving on

She couldn’t hide the smile that had etched onto her face as she sang the second verse, which told him that whatever caused the pain in the chorus was definitely gone now. Shawn started to feel himself smile along with her.

She finished the song with a small hum and opened her eyes again. Typically, her live streams started with a song that she picked out and one more that the viewers would request. Some days it would just be her messing around while answering questions. Today just happened to be the lucky day that she did both.

“What did I have for breakfast? Very strange question, but I had a parfait. I’m sorry if you were expecting pancakes or something,” she giggled.

“What’s my opinion on brown eyes? One hundred percent the most underrated eye color in the world. All the time I see brown-eyed people try to cover it up, and become really self-conscious along the way. It isn’t really such a big issue now, but I remember seeing it all the time back then and I was absolutely baffled by it. Sure, brown is the most common, but they’re definitely the most diverse in my opinion. There are so many shades!”

Shawn could feel his cheeks flush at the mention of even the tiniest relation to him. He never really thought about his own eye color until then. It was only a little part of him, but somehow she had put so much more meaning into it. It was a gift of hers, finding the simplest of things and making it sound like so much more, that is. It was one of the things that made her such a great songwriter.

“What do you think of Shawn Mendes?”

The mention of his name, more like the sound of her voice saying it, snapped him out of his thoughts, immediately putting him on edge. It felt like everything stopped and the only things that were moving were his heartbeat, that alarmingly pumped faster, and his leg that wouldn’t stop shaking. It was pathetic how much of an effect she had on him. An effect that she had even though she had never spoken to him.

“Where do I even begin?” she beamed, putting her hands up to her cheeks. A lame attempt to try and hide her heated face. “I’m not really one to listen to pop music that often, but his music is so good. I don’t know how he does it, a genius right there. Go listen to his new album if you haven’t already.”

Now he was the one who was blushing mad. Shawn was pretty sure he forgot how to breathe or how to do anything in fact. She listened to his music, gushed about it in fact. And there she sat, oblivious to the fact that the very person who she was talking about was watching her.

The connection lagged a little as she continued on, “Looks like you guys want me to cover him, which I’m totally down with.” Shawn couldn’t even think at this point. Now she was going to sing his song. The lyrics that he wrote. The chords that he recorded.

“Here’s I Don’t Even Know Your Name because it’s one of my favorites,” she smiled at the camera, which totally brought him back down to Earth. His heart fluttered when she started to sing again.

He remembered writing Handwritten, more specifically that song. When he finally came up with lyrics to the melody that he had been working on for so long, he was so proud of something that had turned out to be so good.

But it sounded even better when she sang it. She added something to the song that he couldn’t describe. He was able to pick out the way she added a soft high note in one line of the chorus and changed the order of some notes. Shawn didn’t know how she did it all so easily, but it was brilliant.

Even long after the live stream ended, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. One of her fans had recorded it and posted it on the internet so he could rewatch it anytime he wanted. And boy he did. He listened to it in the shower, the car, everywhere really.

Even backstage.

The show wasn’t supposed to start until five hours later and he didn’t have anything else to do. Soundcheck was already done and the Q&A wasn’t for a long time, so here he was. Listening to her again.

“Dude, I’m seriously starting to think you’re in love with her,” Geoff joked from the couch opposite of him. Shawn was laying down on the couch, balancing his laptop on his chest while he binge watched more of her covers.

Matt let out a laugh from behind him, “He probably is.” Rolling his eyes, he sat up and looked at the both of them.

“You don’t understand. She’s absolutely am—”

“Amazing, we know,” the two boys finished for him.

“And that she deserves more recognition and that she’s an amazing writer and….” he took a deep breath, “she’s really cute.” Shawn watched him with his eyebrows raised as he ticked off every statement with a finger on his hand.

“And don’t forget that she listens to your music!” Matt jumped in, ruffling his already messed up hair. “You know, you should give her a little shout out or something on Twitter. It’s pretty obvious how good she is, and I don’t think you’ll stop rambling about her until you do.”

Shawn chuckled at the last bit, flicking the back of Matt’s snap back off his head as he stood up and stretched. Needing a change of scenery, well walls, he shuffled towards the bathroom and leaned his hands on the counter. Matt’s words were still ringing in his ears, and Shawn had no idea how the idea didn’t come to him in the first place. It would definitely help her out, and that’s all it took for him to whip out his phone.

He quickly opened Twitter and as he hovered his thumb over the keyboard, he froze. What was he supposed to say? There were so many things about her. One hundred forty characters weren’t enough.

The next five minutes were spent typing a sentence or two out, but reading it over and erasing it. He didn’t want to say a simple “check this girl out, she’s really good” kind of thing. She was more than good. But he didn’t want to write too much. Everyone would probably think he was desperate, or something else the media can come up with.

It completely confused him why he was having such a hard time. He always knew what to say. Words easily rolled off his tongue.

Stop overthinking it, he thought to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t be this hard. A minute passed when he felt his thumbs move on their own. He read the sentences over and over. Doubt started to cloud his thinking again. “You know what? Fuck it,” Shawn seethed and he pushed the submit button.

There was no going back now. Millions of people were reading it now, and he hoped she was too.

dark queen luthien au for me is the one where she promotes a sort of somber spring all along the north, with plants growing wild and strong and blocking out the sun for those who live below… the forest in Taur-nu-Fuin would be even more connected to her than Doriath was to Melian, I bet. Huorns and ents all thrive in this place. Maybe Tom Bombadil comes live there idk hahaha. Doriath eventually stops blossoming, I suppose…. Thingol and Melian are terrified.

Beren would at the same time be her knight and her treasure. She can’t allow him to be in danger, he is fragile. We know Morgoth had the means to keep an elf from dying of inanition, and I’ve said I’m positive he can do similarly to mortals, taking Húrin as an example, and then there is the Ring in the third age so - maybe - she manages to extend Beren’s life for a terribly long time. IDK how he finally feels about the whole thing… There is potential for really angsty stuff here, depending on how much you want Luthien to fall into darkness. Maybe he still lives, and impossibly old man forever sitting at the base of some old and twisted tree? Who knows. 

Dior exists ofc tho! And Dior’s gotta dance among the shadows of the forest of Taur-ni-Fuin. Andddddddd wouldn’t that be awesome to have a reverse Beren and Luthien, with Nimloth, after enduring a cold winter lost in the shadow of the northern forests, stumbling upon him singing the plants into blossoming? :)

anonymous asked:

Jimon prompt: "Run away with me."


Notes: This turned into 2500 words of I don’t even know what even….

From This List


~*~


It’s taken a lot of malling over and really intensive hand on action—You know like Simon sweeping slick fingers over Jace’s insane six pack, and caressing his perfectly rounded ass for minutes on end—like seriously what even? Does angel blood like automatically ensure that you’re otherworldly gorgeous or something? Because totally unfair for Simon and all the other lowly mortals—But any how, all  of that hard work has lead to Simon coming to the conclusion that Jace is most definitely the secret love child of James Dean—with that slicked back hair and his leather jacket that moves his shoulders just right—and Captain America himself, you know cause he’s constantly permeating  superhero cockiness and has these eyes that fucking glide over Simon with a hunger that makes Simon’s skin prickle. Jace  looks at him as if they were in the same league, hell like they were even playing the same sport.  As if Jace was not in the baseball majors while Simon was warming the benches for some random ass curling team—Hell do curling teams  even have enough people to warrant  benches? And does New York even have a curling division, because no way in hell is Simon moving. He’s just got on good footing with Raphael’s clan, and has a sweet crib with Magnus—even if Simon suspects Magnus would really appreciate the sudden increase of privacy  so to be as loud as he’d like with Alec—who’s surprisingly—

No, wait! Hold up!  Simon is totally getting off track.

The point is that Jace looks like half leather bound bad boy and every kid’s envision of a superhero—While simultaneously being a secret dork who loves comics almost as much as Simon, and is super obsessed with counting his calories and having a minimal of three hours cardio every day. (Which actually ends up being quite fun since he’s begrudgingly conceded that Simon’s form of exercise  would just have to do.)

Speaking of…

“I’m…gonna…be late,” Jace pants out, punctuating each breathless word with another kiss along Simon’s collar bone.

“Hmmm, c’mon dude—ooo,” Simon let’s out a little moan when Jace bites down—a teasing nibble. “Since when are you ever punctual?””

“Since before I ever made the grave decision to get involved with such a bad influence,” Jace nearly growls out—never unlatching his lips from Simon’s jawline.

“Hey goldilocks, I’m not making you do anything,” Simon needles, raising his hands placatingly, A far too innocent  smile swept over his face as if he did not just cant his hips upwards so their denim clad erections buck up  against each other.

“You’re a menace,” Jace groans out, collapsing his head onto Simon’s shoulder, making him laugh as he cards a hand through Jace’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And  your the guy who’s parabatai is leading this whole meeting thing, so What’s the big deal if you’re just a little late because you’re totally getting some from your mega hot vampire boyfriend!”

At that, Jace stiffens, just slightly—a sudden tautness stranding the once easy ambience that has begun to surround them ever since they admitted their pitifully hidden feelings for one another after a particularly nasty battle against Sebastian and his demonic minions.

It’s been at least a month, but Simon swears that he can still taste the snow flakes that cascaded across Jace’s irresistibly scarlet lips, and can still feel the way everything just clicked into focus after Simon just finally told him that if Jace had gotten hurt in any serious way Simon wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Never being one to pass up a grand gesture, Jace promptly  just crashed their lips together in a cacophony of teeth and tongue and spit. It was messy and startling and awkward before they finally adjusted themselves into a more comfortable position—one where Jace’s nose wasn’t stabbing against Simon’s eye, or his arms weren’t trapped between their ribcages. But even if he had the chance,  Simon wouldn’t change the moment in  the slightest—even if he’s pretty sure they both would’ve gotten frost bite  if they were not a vampire and part angel respectively—Because it  was all them, all their hesitated words and nervous mutterings finally culminated into something worth a million lifetimes.

“I should go,” Is all Jace manages out while tugging on the combat boots that Simon had abashedly presented to him as a Hanukkamass gift. (What can he say, even his devoutly jewish grandfather loved him his reindeer cookies and Christmas trees as much as he did his dreidel  and retellings of the eight plagues—combining the two holidays was the only plausible option.)

“Ah, okay…” Simon sits up so to slide in-between Jace and the wall of his  sparsely embellished room. (Simon would reason that all Shadowhunters are minimalist in their decorating prowls  if he did not know that Izzy owned three different types of fairy lights that she draped up with gusto, depending on the major holiday of that season.) “So you’re allowed to be a cocky shit, but the second that I call myself sexy you get all broody—“

Jace’s brows shoot up in flabbergasted shock.

“What! Simon! NO no nO!” Jace wobbles out as he whips his head to meet Simon’s gaze straight on—And yeah, Simon may or may not be so totally amused at how much of a scared puppy he looks right now.

“Bro, I know! Chill,” Simon all but guffaws, very nearly keeling over and toppling off of Jace’s bed.

His lips twist up in annoyance. “I’m not your bro,” he scoffs, moving to tug on his T-shirt and jacket.

“NO, no you most definitely are not,” Simon amends, a far too fond smile tilting the corners of his lips. And he’s sure that his eyes are doing that dazed, adoring thing that they only get when around Jace—But he doesn’t even mind how sappy that is. “You are my adorably flustered boyfriend, who I thought agreed to move past the monosyllabic sentences.”

“Simon, just because I’m not prone to speaking essay length diatribes about whatever injustice I’m feeling is particularly bad that day—like you—Doesn’t mean I only speak one word at a time.”

“Kay, first of all point, even though my essay long diatribes so totally make your days a million times brighter.”

“Never said they didn’t.”

Simon can’t help his preening at that. “Yeah, well no matter how precious your little admission is—that doesn’t help you skirt around the second point. You are not as wily as you’d like to think Lightwood.”

“And what’s that second point Simon?”

“That we agreed to not keep secrets after that whole fairy incident—“

“Yeah, well I would’ve liked some warning before seeing that prick rub himself all over you right in front of me,” Jace mutters darkly—his eyes getting steely, the way they always do whenever Simon or one of their friends bring up that total mess of a mission to poke fun at how jealous the great and mighty sex god Jace Lightwood could get.

“Bro, we weren’t even dating—We just agreed to be friends after we agreed how immature that pissing match over Clary was. You totally had no right to curl up behind me and pretend that I was already taken.”

“I have no regrets, that fay was a total sleaze ball, and again. I most definitely am not your bro.”

Simon has half a mind to bring up that Jace was kinda a sleaze ball at that time too—Okay, well not really. Just a big, emotionally inept dork who had no idea how to tell Simon that he was totally hot for him. Simon’s pretty sure that Maia still thinks that Jace is that guy he postured around pretending he is, but Simon knows better. Jace is a big marshmallow who had a really shitty father who practically taught him from birth that loving anyone was signing your death warrant. Honestly, Simon is shocked that they’ve gotten this far in what’s objectively a pretty short amount of time. Whenever Simon brings up this little observation to Jace, he just continues on tracing the love rune onto Simon’s shoulder (And yeah, Simon so totally knows it’s the love rune but still hasn’t admitted to Jace that he memorized the rune book like the first week that Valentine was arrested and they actually had a moment to breathe.) and tucks his head a little deeper into the crook of Simon’s neck and shoulder.

“You’re you,” he would cautiously admit into the depth of the night—a pink tint touching the tops of his impossible cheekbones, and his heartbeat fluttering about a million times faster, Making Simon’s insides feel like  molten lava.

“Okay, we’ll return to that particular argument later on, you know after you tell me what’s really  bothering you.”

Simon almost expects Jace to just mutter out an “I’m fine,” and swagger away, leaving the sent of his blue Calvin Klein and about a million more questions in his wake. But he doesn’t storm off. Instead, he collapses back onto the duvet besides Simon—resting his head against the wall, and looking up at him from underneath his spider leg lashes.

“I’m scared that you’ll think I’m insane or warped.”

At that, Simon practically flails around so to sprawl himself half over Jace, and locks their hands together—squeezing them so he knows that Simon is right there. “That’s impossible Jace, Nothing you could say could make me think that.” When  it looks like his resolve is wavering, Simon just squeezes harder. “I’m not going anywhere.” It’s as close to an “I love you,” that either of them have ever gotten with each other—both to terrified that if they move to hard and fast with what they have, karma or providence or whatever shit show that’s been fucking up their lives so immensely will catch wind and ruin all they’ve built. So they never say it—Just reminding the other that he’s there, and he’ll never leave.

I—I’ve been having these dreams,” Jace admits, puncturing the precarious hush that has hugged around them—a stillness that once unnerved Simon, until he found that his center felt a lot more balanced whenever he was tangled into Jace’s embrace.

“Dreams?” Simon prods, gently—knowing all too well how difficult this is for the ordinarily stoic and ever proud Lightwood to do—allowing himself to admit acknowledge his weaknesses to anyone, let alone the one person who could probably destroy him without effort.

“About Valentine, and Sebastian. About my childhood I guess…The thing is it wasn’t all bad all the time. He was the only father that I knew—A father who made me spaghetti, and gave me my first Seraph Blade and read me bed time stories-“

“Yeah, stories about love being the worst type of cancer, and how killing makes you strong. Oh! And let’s not forget his stance on corporal  punishment and-“

“Simon,” Jace’s laugh is something light and soothing, a beautiful sound that is far too amused by how heated Simon is getting over the thought of anyone hurting Jace—especially a little ten year old version of him who couldn’t wait to be best friends with a falcon until his chickenshit of a father snapped it’s neck right in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to get diluted into thinking that man isn’t a complete monster.”

His lips turn up into a small, almost sad smile. “Trust me Simon, I know—It’s just weird. I mean all this time he’s had another son he hid away from me. I just wonder sometimes if I knew, if I found him while training in the woods or something…Maybe Sebastian could’ve turned out different, you know? Maybe we could’ve escaped somehow? Or he could’ve moved in with the Lightwoods with me and he’d be on our side.”

Oh, and there it is.

Right when Simon thought he’s got Jace all figured out, the dude decides to throw him a total curve ball, showing just how compassionate and good he truly is.

“A dumb thought, yeah?”

“Hey, no shut your mouth. This is not my “Jace has a dumb thought,” face, I have that when you don’t think I could totally rock leather pants.”

“I just said that wasn’t you’re style, not that I wouldn’t thoroughly enjoy the view.”

Simon hurdles on as if Jace hadn’t spoken. “This my far too open hearted boyfriend is my besotted face.”

Jace blushes.

“It just sucks, the thought of what could’ve been. I or Clary even—We could’ve had an actual  brother, and he could’ve been human and happy and normal—I just feel guilty, and sad and I hate Valentine so much for all the ways he ravaged everything that ever got in his way.”

His voice tapers off to something quieter and more contemplative, like he’s lost himself in his own idealistic prospects of some sort of elusive life that they’ll never know.

Gingerly, Simon cups a hand over his cheek, and presses a feather light kiss onto his lips. A reminder over anything else.

“Runaway with me,” he mouths against him, causing a small, beautifully delighted peal of laughter to pour from him.

“And where do you think we’d go Simon?” Tendrils of warmth curl around Simon’s stomach at the sound of Jace sting his name like that—like something precious and fragile and so so  vital—like a prayer.

“I don’t care, just anywhere with you—And preferably wifi if that’s an option,” he rectifies after a thought.

“You’re insane,” Jace chuckles ruefully.

“And there’s nothing you could’ve done. Valentine kept you guys apart for a reason Jace.”

“And what’s that?” HE challenges with hiked brows.

“Because he knows that you are good, and was afraid that you would’ve inspired even someone infected with demonic poison to be better. Cause that’s what you do Jace, you make us all want to be better and stronger and inspire us that we can do it. That we can be like you.”

The kiss Jace gives him right then is something this edge of desperate and amazing.

“No matter what—I’m pretty sure that we would’v ended up here—in this bed…doing this over and over again.”

“Yeah-Yeah, I bet you say that to all your bedfellows.” Simon teases, but kissing back with as much fervor.

“NO, just you. always you.”

And yeah that is so totally sappy but Simon doesn’t mind, because he feels the same.

~*~

Good thing Alec is Jace’s parabatai, because he never does end up getting to that meeting.

And they do end up running away together—It’s just for a weekend at some winery upstate that Rebecca told Simon about. But it was probably the funnest get away in Simon’s life—Even if Magnus, and Alec, and Clary, and Izzy all end up crashing it half way through.


Notes: Thank you so much for the prompt <3 

Please go ahead and shoot me one if you’re interested 😁

Soulmates AU

12 year old Rose finds her soulmate in 15 year old James.  This is their story.

Now titled ‘Written on Your Heart’ and available on AO3!


Written for @doctorroseprompts Soulmate September.

10/Rose AU.  Will feature: Sarah Jane, Jackie, Donna, Wilf, Mickey, and others

Chapter 1/??


Every soulmated couple was marked in their own unique way.  Some couples, arguably the luckiest, had each other’s names inked on their skin; others would only be marked upon a shared touch, or speaking to each other.  There was no way of knowing how, or when, a person would be marked until it occurred, if it ever did.

There were two broad categories of the looking – those that knew they were mated but had not yet met, and those that were dependent on luck.  Those that knew typically had clues to follow, or at least to eliminate potentials, based on their mark.  The levels of contact for those that knew varied depending on their type of bond. Some had a name to be on the lookout for, but nothing else – others were in contact from a young age, but had not been able or allowed to meet until they were of age.  They were the lucky ones.

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Ladynoir July Day 11: Patching Each Other Up

A heads up for new readers. All of my Ladynoir July stories are one story, so I suggest reading them in order for everything to make sense. Here’s a link to day one.


Ladybug dove into Marinette’s room just in time to answer her mother’s second wake-up call. Of course this had to happen on the day she had agreed to help her parents out in the bakery before school.

She detransformed, letting Tikki fly into her purse before she rushed downstairs, slipping a few cookies in her purse for her kwami. After a couple hours of baking and mixing, Marinette changed and ran to school.

Adrien had gotten more sleep last night than he probably had in a while, but he still felt irritable. He sighed, flopping back on the bed, “Is this a mistake?”

Plagg chewed thoughtfully on a slice of Camembert, “Hmmm… Telling Ladybug?”

“No, running away to join the circus,” he snapped, uncharacteristically irritated.

Plagg almost dropped his cheese in surprise. “Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the roof this morning.” He had to duck a pillow aimed at his head as he cooed, “Aww… Did baby not have a good nap?”

“That’s it.” Adrien snatched the remaining Camembert from Plagg’s paws, “You’re cut off. Nothing but processed cheese for you.”

“Hey, if you want to talk to your girlfriend, you take that back!” Plagg hissed in warning.

The ensuing scuffle ended poorly for both Adrien and his kwami. In the end, they agreed to a truce, and Adrien was bandaging a small bite on his thumb as Plagg groomed himself.

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anonymous asked:

BLAH IM THE ANON WHO ASKED ABOUT CELINE AND WILL (I FELL ASLEEP) ok so just imagine: you now share a body, and you and the other (Damien) have the same objective: revenge on Mark. If you were to act hastily and reveal your true, raw emotions, this body would fall apart, and you both would be exposed. How do you think Celine feels about not being able to show affection towards Will? Honestly, I’ve had this in my head all day and the thought of it makes my heart break even more.

Hmmm! Good question!

I suppose it depends how much of Celine is left within Dark and whether what is left gets corrupted and twisted to only have negative emotions. Maybe there’s nothing good left of Celine with Dark just taking her supernatural power and not much else and the reason I say that is because it’s gut wrenching to think Celine is in there getting her heart broken as she sees Will descend into madness at a brake neck speed and not being able to do anything about it.

anonymous asked:

Okay so I'm not sure how well it would fit with the plot now that Denmark's been kidnapped, which is totally cool by the way I'm loving the story, just figured I might as well tell you I keep imagining that after Norway moves away with "Dagmar" Frida would keep in contact with her because they're friends, but eventually Frida would want to come visit her friend and Dagmar is supposed to have a kid, so Norway and Denmark have to pretend Iceland is their son, except he's bad at keeping secrets

You are partly guessing right where the plot is going, but there is still few twists coming :D

I can tell so much that Frida will be in the epilogue (that you guys get depending on how much you like the story… What? I like to keep epilogues in hostage. You should already know I am a horrible person), but she will still be just as clueless than any other humans. 

Btw, now that I got this ask. I finished my project plan and sent it off to my supervisors so I am now writing the next chapter that might be published today :o 
After that I will focus on “analyzing” results from the questionnaire and then I have a short break while I write stuff for the event. 

You know what was disappointing? The fact that there were only evil men in Max’s nightmares.

I don’t really see why they did this. I get there were no fully on evil or twisted women like Jefferson and Frank, but then they included Nathan (whom Max was just defending back in the Dark Room and heard how broken he was) and Warren (her friend who she shows no sign of being bothered back in the real world). And they left out all the bitches and females bullies, including Victoria! Who is very similar to Nathan in a lot of ways.

It would of been so much better/made so much more sense if the people who appeared in your nightmare depended on how you treated them in the game. For example:

See Nathan scared after Warren beats him up? He isn’t in the nightmare.
Stay enemies with Victoria? She shows up in the nightmare.
Don’t reject Warren? He isn’t there.
Lie to Joyce? She shows up.
Don’t sign the teachers petition about security cameras? She shows up.

And for all the characters. Have them all show up depending on how nice or rude you were to them in the game.

I just think that would of been so much better.

anonymous asked:

I want brothers reaction when they find out Yui (or the bride who came their house) has a lover in human world and she actually didn't love them just endured their sadistic things.

Shu- He would be heartbroken inside, but he wouldn’t show it on the outside. If he really loved her, he might take up drinking a bit or something just to keep his mind off it. There’s doubt in my mind though if he’d kill them both, kill the boy, kill her, or would let them both live and leave. It would depend on how much he really loved her. 

Reiji- Reiji wouldn’t know how to react, but he would compose himself and proceed to kill his lover. He wouldn’t know exactly how to handle her death either, but he isn’t just going to hand her off to some human. The boy was next on his kill list.

Ayato- Without hesitation, he’d kill her so she would be with him always. He would later on be hurting a lot and lost, but he couldn’t just let her go. 

Laito- In a weird twist of fate, he might have saw this coming and would lock her up and force her to stay, torturing and killing her day by day. 

Kanato- He would kill her and the boy without a second thought. He’d be very heartbroken and sorrowful that even more of his sanity would crack.

Subaru- He wouldn’t be the least bit surprised, but he would be hurting on the inside as he let her go to be with the human. He knew inside no one could love a monster, it’s his own fault for getting that close.

Kino- He’d be infuriated and would kill her or tie her up and torture her for long, excruciating days. Kino wouldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be with him and it would tear him up inside. 

the-queenfamily  asked:

fever

Fever (Olicity, Season 4.5)

“Put me down.” 

Her voice was weak and strained, barely audible through her gritted teeth. She was burning up, growing hotter by the second in his arms, and even if he didn’t know she’d stumble and fall if he set her down, he wouldn’t, not like this. God, not ever. If this was the last time… No. That wasn’t going to happen, no way. 

They had the antidote downstairs, or the closest thing to it, whatever she’d managed to put together in the last twelve hours. He hoped it’d work, because if it didn’t…

Felicity.”

She whimpered.

The elevator seemed to be stuck in molasses for how fucking slow it was moving.

“Oliver… please…”

Despite her protests, she was clinging to him, one hand digging into his neck, the other holding onto his jacket like her life depended on it. And it did. His stomach twisted at that and he shook his head, shifting her closer, hissing when the hot skin of her forehead brushed his chin.

“Hold on, baby, we’re almost there. Just…” His voice dropped, his eyes closing. “Just hold on. Please.”

He couldn’t lose her, not like this. Not with so much left unsaid, so much left unfinished between them. 

The violent urge to ram his fist into the wall rose in his chest at the thought of the last several weeks of walking on eggshells around each other, neither willing to push too hard, to say too much. The urge for more - to tell her how he felt, to ask her if her furtive glances and lingering touches meant more, could mean more - it’d slowly grown inside him until it was all he could think about, all he could see when he was around her. 

But he’d waited, telling himself there was a moment, a special moment.

It might have all been for nothing.

No.

“It’s too… hot,” she gasped, her voice heavy with tears.”I can’t…”

“Hold on, Felicity, don’t you dare say that.”

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The Assassin and the Captain

The Assassin and the Captain is a short scene taking place in between Throne of Glass and Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas. (All Parts 1-4)


The Captain of the Guard was waiting for her at the front gate of the glass castle.

Celaena Sardothien, Erilea’s greatest assassin and now the King’s Champion, hadn’t bothered to hurry her black mare through the teeming streets of Rifthold. Even after two weeks of traveling to and from the base of the Ararat Mountains, even though she was half-frozen and covered in the dust of a hundred roads, she wasn’t all that eager to reach her final destination.

She wasn’t surprised to find Chaol Westfall standing at the bottom of the hill atop which the castle was perched—wasn’t surprised to see the half-dozen or so guards doing their best to pretend they weren’t watching every movement, or signaling up the winding path that she had returned. She’d already spotted the men Chaol had stationed in the city itself: at the wall gates, on street corners, on rooftops, all scouting for any sign of her return.

Chaol looked just as he had when she left, his black and gold uniform clean-pressed, the eagle-shaped pommel of his sword gleaming in the midmorning sun.

At least he was now using the blade. After killing Cain at the duel, he hadn’t worn it for the few weeks it’d taken her to recover from her injuries. When she’d left last month, he’d still been using another blade. Still had those shadows in his bronze eyes.

But those shadows were gone now, as she looked down at him from beneath the black cowl of her hood. He was just standing to the side of the gate, arms crossed over his broad chest, that familiar frown on his lips.

She clicked her tongue and dismounted, tossing the reins to one of the awaiting guards as she turned to face the captain. “What—no flowers?”

The frown deepened. She smiled broadly.

This had been her first mission, the first test of trust, and genuine ability. Celaena jerked her chin to one of the mare’s saddlebags. A massive lump pushed out from under the worn leather. “When do you suppose he’ll give me targets worthy of my skill?”

Chaol’s eyes flicked from her face to the head in the saddle bag, then back to her, the frown deepening. “You’re three days late.”

She shrugged, and didn’t wait for his permission to begin walking up the sloped path to the castle itself.  No, she didn’t need any sort of permission anymore—not as King’s Champion. But Chaol stiffened nonetheless.

She chuckled under her breath. “You try going to the foothills of the Ararat Mountains in the dead of winter and see if you make it anywhere on time. I almost lost my fingers and toes to the cold.” She wriggled the former in his face. “You don’t even want to know how I managed to keep warm.”

Nothing. Not even a hint of a smile.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, a moment during which she remembered that day after the duel when he’d held her—not a captain holding an assassin, or a friend holding a friend, but a man holding a woman… If she tried to hold him now, would he shove her aside? She didn’t want to know—didn’t quite have the nerve to try it. Or the nerve to wonder why she wanted to.

 “I trust you,” was all he said. 

“That’s why you had men around the city spying on me?”

 “I had men around the city,” he said through gritted teeth, “because I wanted to have a chance to greet you first. To see if you were all right.” She blinked and cocked her head. Looking after her, not spying. It had been so long since she’d had someone who cared enough to bother.  She had to swallow a few times before she could reply. 

“Of course I’m all right.” A stupid response, but he began walking again. She followed him, blinking against the brightness of melting snow off the glass castle. “But if I wasn’t all right,” she dared ask, “what would you have done?” A shrug of those powerful shoulders. 

“It doesn’t matter now.”

 “Indulge me.” 

He didn’t look at her as he said, “I would have done what I needed to do.” She ground her teeth. 

“Stop being so cagey.” 

“I don’t see how knowing it makes any difference.” She felt her nostrils flare, but kept her mouth shut. Fine. They reached the front gates of the castle. The usual hustle and bustle of courtiers, servants, guards, and visitors was hardly lessened by the frigid day. She glanced up at the upper spires, her stomach twisting at more than the thought of climbing all those stairs to the king’s council room.  So much depended on this meeting—so much that she didn’t dare let herself think about it. And certainly not in front of Chaol, who could read her face with unnerving ease. So she grinned before he could turn to glimpse her face, to discover the doubt and fear underneath. Absolute confidence, absolute arrogance: her best shields and most beloved masks.  

“I hope His Majesty has a decent spread of food for me to eat while I’m being interrogated.”

“Watch your mouth or the only thing you’ll be eating is hot coals.”

“Do you actually make people do that?” His eyes narrowed. 

“What kind of person do you take me for?” 

“You are the Captain of the Guard of the most powerful man in the world. Wyrd knows what horrible things you’ve done to people.”

“You must be nervous as hell if you’re resorting to taunting me.”

She wouldn’t let that shake her, wouldn’t allow the grin or the swagger to pause for an instant. But she halted before the wide, sweeping front steps into the castle. The best lies were always mixed with the truth—let him believe what he would.

“You know my history with His Majesty.” After all, he’d been the one to bring her to that meeting with the king on the first day of the competition. He’d seen her near-panic at the thought of meeting him, seen her go pale.

Undoubtedly, he was thinking of the same encounter. His eyes softened, and he put a hand on her shoulder. “Just—be polite. Submissive.”

“Now that is a true challenge worthy of me.”

A half-smile. “If you’re well-behaved, I’ll have a chocolate-hazelnut cake sent to your rooms during our lunch.”

“Our lunch?”

A hint of wariness, but a growing smile. “Unless you had someone else you’d prefer to dine with?”

She chewed on the inside of her lip, looking toward one of the stone towers—the tower in which Dorian had his rooms. She’d meant every word she’d said to the Crown Prince that day she’d ended things between them, and had kept away ever since.

So no—there was no one else she’d rather eat with today, not even Nehemia. “I suppose I could endure lunch with you,” she said.

She couldn’t help but wonder if his grin was from amusement or something else. But the full force of his smile was enough to make the world pause.

“I missed you,” she admitted.

Chaol’s smile faltered, and he again stared at her—questioning, calculating, wondering. She waited for him to look around, to factor in the people swarming the grounds and how best to respond, but he just kept looking at her. As if the world had paused for him, too.

And then he chuckled under his breath, more to himself than to her, and said, “It was boring as hell without you.”

She laughed, and ascended the steps into the castle. And though she didn’t reach for him, and though he didn’t offer his arm, they walked a bit closer as they made their way to the king.

say I'm a dreamer

so this spn daydream has been in and out of my consciousness for pretty much all of the hiatus - thought I might as well write it down :)

I’m picturing a climax scenario, okay? Think Sam poised to kill Lilith while Dean desperately tries to call him back from the brink - only this time it’s DEAN on the verge of going darkside. Dean on the verge of killing Abaddon/Gadreel (either/or depending on my mood - though I tend to picture Abaddon most often, perhaps because she mirrors Lilith?). 

Dean has the first blade, he knows where Abaddon will be and he’s rushing to get to her. Killing Abaddon will not free Lucifer or start an apocalypse like killing Lilith did, BUT if Dean uses the first blade it will irreversibly alter him, it will make him a demon like Cain (I’m working on a theory that that’s how Cain was turned, that killing with the blade is what taints/twists your soul into demonhood - much like feeding is what cements turned vamps into full vampires, you know?).

Sam, desperate to save Dean from this fate, grabs at Dean’s free arm, trying to hold him back. 

With a yell of rage and frustration Dean lashes out with the blade, slicing up Sam’s arm, forcing Sam to stagger back, clutching his wound, wide-eyed with horror as his gaze moves back up to his brother.

Seeing what he’s done Dean freezes, shocked, eyes flicking from the blood seeping through Sam’s fingers to the matching crimson on the blade in his hand.

“Dean,” Sam gasps. “Please. You do this, there’s no coming back.”

A flicker of fear passes over Dean face, his eyes wet. Then he sets his jaw, swallows everything back until his expression is hard. Not emotionless, no, but angry. Bitter.

“Like you care,” he spits, walking away without looking back, deaf to Sam’s increasing desperate and pleading cries of his name.

Sam tries to follow Dean, but the cut is too deep, he needs to keep pressure on it, blood loss and pain are already making him dizzy. He stumbles into a wall. His legs start to buckle.

Then Cas is there holding Sam up.

“Sam? What-?”

“It’s Dean, he… I couldn’t stop him…” Sam mutters as Cas lays hands on his arm to heal him, pausing only for a moment to register his shock that it is Dean who has done this.

There’s a problem with the healing process. Sam cries out as his skin knits together in agonising slowness. Cas stops, fearful of causing Sam more harm.

“Sam, this wound, it’s… it’s not natural. To heal it safely I would need to -”

“Forget it. Leave it,” Sam gasps, stripping off his jacket and wrapping it round his partially healed arm as a makeshift bandage. “Just - find Dean. Stop him.”

“Me?” Cas shakes his head. “No. You’re his brother, you should -”

“Yes! I am his brother. Don’t you see? That makes me part of the problem! But you -” Sam grips Cas’ upper arm, holding his gaze, speaking fast and earnest. “Cas, you’re different. He cares about you, but not like - Look, he - he won’t hear me right now. He can’t. But he’ll listen to you.”

Cas pulls back from Sam, staring at him like he’s started speaking in tongues.

“You… you overvalue my importance to him.”

“No. I don’t. Look, you don’t have to believe me. But we’re out of time. He’s gonna find Abaddon any minute and I can’t stop him. Even if you don’t think you can, you have to try, please!”

Cut to Dean facing off against Abaddon. By this time the Mark of Cain has gifted Dean with a few superpowers and he is able to quickly overpower her and pin her to a wall. He advances on her, blade raised.

Which is when Cas runs in.

“Dean, stop.”

…I have a ton of variations of this conversation! None of them entirely coherent. I thought I might at some point collect my thoughts/emotions enough to be able to pin it down and script it, but I’ve given up trying, at least for now!

Basically a ‘yellow crayon’ speech to Dean from Cas (the phrase 'let go’ is involved at some point, possibly 'this isn’t you’ and/or 'don’t make me lose you’… sometimes there’s declarations of love, depending on how sappy I’m feeling :p), ending with Cas leaning in to gently draw the blade from Dean’s fingers, while Dean rocks forward, crying into Cas’ shoulder as Cas wraps his other arm about Dean and holds him close. Maybe whispering soft, comforting things like 'I have you’ and 'it will be alright, Dean’ or just 'I’m here, I’m here’ in response to Dean weakly clasping Cas’ coat and choking out 'Cas… Cas, I…’ through his tears.

(and then later Cas takes Dean back to the bunker where Sam is waiting, pacing, arm properly bandaged - and Dean stands in front of him, tearful, only managing an anguished 'Sam, I’m sorry’ before Sam is wrapping him up in a crushing hug, wincing from the pain it zig-zags up his arm but not letting it stop him, crying too as he chokes out “I don’t care what you think about anything else, but don’t ever ever think I don’t care about you, Dean. I love you. Whatever you believe, you have to believe that.”)

Green-eyed Monster

Green-eyed Monster (A Xibalba and La Muerte Story)

“And this is-”

“Mary Beth! Mary Beth!”

The red-haired tour guide paused in her explanation of the next exhibit and turned her head in the direction of the voice calling her name. She saw this brown-haired women wearing a uniform similar to hers pushing her way through the crowd.

“Julia,” Mary Beth greeted with a smile. “Is something wrong?”

Julia took a moment to catch her breath before asking, “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Of course.” Mary Beth turned her attention back to her tour group. “Children, wait right here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Julia led Mary Beth a little bit away from her group once they were far enough, Mary Beth asked, “So what did you want to talk  about?”

“Well, I’m having a bit of a problem with two of the kids in my group. I can’t get them to stop arguing with each other.” Julia stated, running nervous hand through her hair. “And I though since you’re usually so good with children…maybe you could come help me out?”

Mary Beth’s slim eyebrows drew together slightly. “Julia, I’d love to come and help, but-“

“I know you already have your own group, but Mary Beth, please!” the brunette clasped her hands together pleadingly. “I really need your help with this. It will only be a few minutes, I promise.”

The disguised goddess bit her lip, thinking it over. She really couldn’t leave her group all by themselves, but Julia looked really desperate and she’d hate to say no…

Just then she noticed a familiar looking security guard out of the corner of her eye and that’s when an idea popped into her head. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

At Julia’s nod, Mary Beth headed straight towards the guard. “Guicho!” she called out to get his attention.

The old man jumped and turned to scowl at the person, but when he saw it was her, his expression softened. “Yes, what is it?”

She didn’t answer him right away, instead she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the hallway so they could talk a bit more privately. Once she released his arm, he tried questioning her again. “Is there a problem, my dear?”

“Can you do something for me?”

A bushy, white eyebrow quirked up. “That depends. What is it?”

“Julia wants me to help with some of the kids in her group.” Mary Beth explained. “Can you watch my group until I get back?”

Guicho’s wrinkled face twisted into a frown. “Mi amor, you know how much I loathe children and besides I’m not even a tour guide.”

“It won’t be that bad. It will just be for a minutes. Beside it might do you some good to spend some time with them.” When saw he still had a doubtful look on his face, she decided to take drastic measures. Glancing around to make sure no was watching, she placed her hands gently on his face. “Please Balby,” she caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers and as expected he swooned under her touch. “For me?” she added, fluttering her eyelashes.

I hate it when she does that.’ Xibalba thought absentmindedly. He was probably going to kick himself later for doing this, but…

He sighed. “Very well, my dear, but just this once. Next time, you’ll have to figure something else out.”

Mary Beth beamed and kissed his cheek causing a silly grin to appear on his face. “Thank you, love. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She started to leave the hallway to go find Julia, but before she left completely, she said over her shoulder, “Oh and try to be nice to the children.”

Guicho snapped out of his daze. “I make no promises.” He headed back into the main room and went over to the group of kids over by one of the Aztec exhibits.

One boy noticed his approach and asked, “Who are you?”

“That’s not important. I’m just filling in for Mary Beth.”

“Where is she?”

He let out annoyed sigh. “If you must know, she had to go and take care of something. Now listen up, I’m going to lay down some rules.” the old guard gave them a stern look. “I won’t tolerate any backtalk so if you have a problem with what I’m doing, keep it yourselves and I don’t want to hear any questions unless their good ones. Got it?” Silence was the only response. “Good. Now shall we continue the tour?”

A spitball was fired and stuck to his forehead. The children laughed and the god felt his eye twitch.

This is going to be a very, very long day.’

—————————————————————————

‘It won’t that bad, she says. It will do you some good to spend time with them, she says. Well I beg to differ!’

To say he was having a hard time would have been a big understatement. But he supposed it was partly his fault. After all, Xibalba never really interacted with children before and he really should have known better to agree to watch other them.

“She owns me big time for this.” he grumbled under his breath. Suddenly Guicho saw Mary Beth coming back and couldn’t help but let out a relived breath. He was about to open his mouth to say something to her when something happened.

A tall, young man stepped into the redhead path and started to chat with her and in one hands was a single rose.

Xibalba’s maroon colored eyes narrowed as a growl threatened to escape his throat. Just who did that little insect think he was trying to flit with his wife? He had to do something…but what?

His eyes trailed down to something hooked his belt and a sinister smile spread across his features. “Children,” he said, keeping his gaze focused on the two in front of him. “How would you like to learn something new?”

——————————————————————————————

“You looking rather nice today, Mary Beth.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” She said politely, but still refused to take the rose that he offered to her.

“Please, call me Thomas.” He winked and smoothed his hair back in what he probably thought was a suave gesture. She barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “So I was thinking maybe once you get off of work, you and I could have dinner together tonight?”

La Muerte almost sighed in exasperation. This wasn’t the first time Thomas had tried to ask her out, but no mater how many times she told him no, he still continued to ask her. “Mr. Smith-“

“Thomas.”

“Mr. Smith,” she said firmly, “As I’ve told you many times before I’m not interested and I would appreciate if you would please stop asking me.”

“Hey, come on,” Thomas tried to take a hold of her hand, but she quickly stepped backwards to avoid him. “Don’t be so-”

Thomas’ body suddenly jerked before he fell to the floor, twitching uncontrollably.

Mary Beth’s eyes widened and wondered what happened until she saw the two probes on his back. Her blue orbs followed the trail from the wires, to the hand that was holding the object the wires were connected to and up to the face that was smiling with much satisfaction.

“And that children is how you use a taser.”

“That was awesome!” Some of the boys in the group said.

“Xi-Guicho!” Mary Beth snapped. “That was completely unnecessary!”

“Oh, relax, he only stunned. He’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just help him up and take him to the hallway.” She leaned down closer to his ear to whisper. “We’ll talk more about this later.” She placed a smile back on her face as she addressed the children. “Come along, kids let’s finish the rest of your tour.”

Guicho grumbled and reluctantly slung one of Thomas’ arms around his shoulders. He dragged the man to the hallway and set him down on one of the benches.

Thomas groaned as he started to come to. “Ugh, what happened? Who-” he looked up at Guicho and when he saw the taser on his belt, put two and two together. “You tasered me! Man, what was that for?!”

“For one it was to get you to stop harassing my wife." Guicho said flatly.

"Your wife?” Thomas echoed and laughed. “Yeah, right, like she would really be married to some old guy like you. Besides, she not wearing a ring.”

The older man’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Just stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Thomas said challengingly as he stood up from his seat. “And what are you going to be about it if I don’t?”

Thomas had no idea what happened, but he found himself being held by the collar of his shirt and pressed up against the wall. He started fearfully at the elderly man who was apparently a lot stronger than he looked.

“Trust me boy,” Xibalba said darkly. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

He probably shouldn’t do this, but just to make sure he got his point across, Xibalba let his eyes change to their usual bright red color and sharpened his teeth to look like fangs.

Thomas’ face paled as his eyes widened. “What the he-“

Guicho threw the other man off to the side and onto the floor. “Get out. And if I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I will make you regret it.”

Thomas scrambled off the floor ”H-Hey chill, man. I’ll stay away her, I swear.”

“Excellent.” Guicho gave him this falsely pleasant smile before his face fell into an indifferent mask. “Now get out.”

Thomas didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted down the hall as fast as he could.

Guicho smirked. Well that took care of that. The guard turned on his heel and strolled to head back to his post.

—————————————————————————————

When the museum closed at the end of the day, Guicho found himself in  the room where the Book of Life was held searching for anyone that may have snuck in. He heard footsteps and whirled around to face the intruder, but relaxed when he saw it was only Mary Beth.

“Ah, there you are, my-ow!” He yelped as the red haired woman had came up to him and brought her hand down hard on his shoulder. He glared at her and they both changed back into their true forms. “What was that for?”

La Muetre placed her hand on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Did you really have to taser him like that?”

“If you want an honest answer then, yes I did.” Xibalba replied, rubbing his sore shoulder.

She sighed. “Xibalba…”

“Oh, please he had it coming and you know it.”

The queen studied her husband for a long moment before it dawned on her and a teasing smile played on her lips. “Xibalba…where you jealous?”

The god looked taken back by the sudden question, but quickly tried to cover it up. “What? No, of course not! I just…” He turned away from her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I just didn’t like how he was flirting with you.”

“Oh Balby,” She strode up to him, placing a hand on his cheek and turned his face back to look at her. “You know there no reason to be jealous. I only have eyes for you.” And just rid him of any lingering doubts, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

Almost instantly, Xibalba melted into her kiss. His wings drooped as his arms encircled around her waist to pull her flush against him. When they pulled away, he sighed. “I suppose I did overreact a little bit.”

“A little?” She laughed, twirling his beard around her finger.

“Okay a lot, but you can’t tell me you would do the same if you were me.”

“I can’t say I would go as far as you did, but I would be pretty upset if someone did start flirting with you…or if I thought your eyes are straying to someone else.”

Mi amor, I would never do such a thing!” The king placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “You are my one and only love.”

“And don’t you forget it."  La Muerte playfully tugged his beard. "Shall we go out explore the town for a bit?”

“Hmm…in a little bit. Right now…” Xibalba swung her around and dipped her lowly. “I just want to focus on my amazing and beautiful wife.”

She chuckled. “And I want to focus on my wonderful and sometimes jealous husband.”

He chortled in amusement before bending down to kiss her once more.

Author’s Notes: I got this idea from Leopardfang15 post of Gravepainters ideas. Oh, and Xibalba’s human disguise name came from another post from Artofshane since that’s actually his name when he’s a security guard.

Garnette turned Purpah'sPercy…..into a hamster. Why? because she can…and finds it to be cute.

Garnette is a very twisted ‘demon’. She doesnt collect souls, no she saps her victims regardless of gender of their energy. She’ll latch onto them and once they fallasleep…she puts them through hellish nightmares. Could be a day could last weeks or even months depending on how much energy this victim has.

Once shes done and the victim is pretty much leaves their defenseless souls to what ever other mean ghouls are around and moves onto the next.

She manipulates illusions both in and out of 'reality’. And as for other ghouls…she has her fun messing with them.XD

In this case percy….she picks on him like any other kid would when they like someone XD.

enjoy

Art/Garnette©Me

Pery©PURPAH

P
S- SHE CALLS HIM SWEET PEA CAUSE HES GREEN

Belated Thoughts for Chapter 389

To be honest, I was never looking forward to more Minerva (I never cared about her character, and nor do I find her particularly endearing after the last two chapters). I also don’t like the idea of more guilds entering this arc (we already have Crime Sorciere + OS for extra support) when there are still plenty of FT characters who need some spotlight, so the past two chapters were not favorites of mine.

That being said, hopefully there’s some kind of purpose to Rogue and Sting taking on Mard Geer, since essentially they should be absolutely no match for him. He’s already brought up something about Dragon Slaying, so hopefully we’ll get more insight into that magic (and maybe history on Natsu and the rest of the DS), and how it’s special, or different through this fight. 

Now, for the part I DO really care about, more Gray and Silver! Everyone else has probably already said this, but it’s pretty clear by what Gray and Mard Geer said, that Keith used his necromancer abilities to revive a dead Silver and then made him into a demon. That explains why Keith seems to know of Gray and Silver’s connection. I just wish Mashima would stop dragging it all out, but judging by the title for the next chapter, we’re likely to get a flashback of Gray’s childhood and Papa Silver. Hopefully we’ll get all of our answers then. 

Also, I like how Mashima tied the Juvia - Keith - Silver - Gray situation together. Mashima has shown us that no one so far has been able to affect Keith except for Juvia, so with his connection to the now revived/controlled Chairman and the Face situation, and being the guy who likely brought Silver back from the dead, it’s pretty fitting (and a nice potential accomplishment) for Juvia to (hopefully) take him out. 

My question still is, however, why Silver hates Gray, because other than this desire to hurt Gray/cause him despair (and the whole being part of Tartarus situation lol), Silver seems like a pretty affable guy, who’s done some questionably GOOD things. If he was being controlled by Keith (like the chairman), you’d think he wouldn’t be able to make such independent decisions. Unless he’s slowly but surely been breaking free of this control, and his former personality has been creeping through as time goes on.

So, my interest is no longer what relationship Gray and Silver share (since it’s incredibly obvious by now, unless Mashima pulls out some kind of twist), but what could have turned Silver against Gray, and what Silver will do to cause Gray despair. 

Did Silver’s mind/memories become twisted when he was reanimated and turned into a demon? Possibly. Maybe even probably. We know he visited a grave during his introduction, which was most likely his wife’s/Gray’s mom’s grave. 

Will Juvia eventually be dragged into things, or will her involvement remain remote, and be only through her current confrontation with Keith? I’m not sure. I don’t know how far Mashima will go in this situation, because this arc has been mostly romance-free, aside from a few Gruvia moments here and there. I’d like to think, IF Silver somehow blames Gray for the loss of his wife, that he would likewise want to cause him a similar pain, and Juvia’s the closest he can get to that.

I don’t know, just rambling as usual. ^^; It all depends on how much longer this arc will be, and how many more twists and turns are planned. Because, Gruvia are obviously separated right now. I would think the Gray and Silver confrontation will come to it’s conclusion at the end of this part of the arc, but it might also be dragged on for whatever reason. I really don’t know if Gray will even decisively defeat Silver, and how he would do it. Where will his motivation come from? That’s why I hope Juvia does get involved somehow, because she could be a specific trigger for it, rather than it just being generally nakama-inspired. 

Another thing that still doesn’t make sense to me, is WHY Gray can manipulate Silver’s ice. If it’s just because they are related, that really doesn’t make any sense, because Silver isn’t even using ice MAGIC but curse Devil Slaying abilities. I hope Mashima explains this, because I feel like it will ultimately be this control that will lead to Gray’s victory. 

Also, please, Mashima, go back to the Natsu, Juvia and Gajeel fight. I am not amused that you deviated from that to focus on Sabertooth shenanigans, when two of those characters (Gajeel and Juvia) have had hardly ANY panel time in this arc so far. Off-paneling their first fight is not appreciated. I have hope now, however, that we will ultimately see the Keith vs (hopefully) Juvia fight, since his character just got more important.