this fate could have been avoided if they had some common sense

Sound the Alarms: 02

Sound the Alarms: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader ~ Jungkook | Seulgi
Description: You were in love with Jeon Jungkook since you were 14, but made the mistake of introducing him to your best friend at 16. Now you’ve slept with him at 19, and it appears that fate isn’t done screwing you over when it comes to your two best friends.
Warning: Cheating, Hella Angst, Intercourse, Masturbating, Dry Humping, Handjob, Blowjob, Spanking, Slight Overstimulation
Word Count: 5,654

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Creating Believable Romance: Things Writers Can Learn from Beauty and the Beast (1991)

It always makes me laugh when Hollywood has these two hour films made for adults in which I feel like I know nothing about the cardboard romantic leads or why they even care about each other, when Disney’s little ninety minute family movie manages to develop much more believable chemistry. 

So how did they do it? What can writers learn from this movie about how to create a believable romance in their own stories?

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Ocean Eyes

Based on this song.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST!

Originally posted by thesilentages

I’ve been watching you
For some time
Can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes

Infatuation was synonymous with stupidity for you, a girl who didn’t believe in the magic of fairy tales. Fate did not drive people to love, it drove them to greatness; a conduit for the ambitious to make sense of the talents guarded by self-doubt and reservation. You liked to think that no matter what happened, a higher power would be looking after you, centring you to the right course, sending winds to fill your sails along the correct path. If they were Gods, angelic creatures, or a simple act of nature, they did not bother themselves with the entangling of hearts. Love wasn’t as important as true purpose, and your purpose was to be great. You had set your sights high, expectations low. After all, the Gods were anything but fair.

You had excepted this understanding of the world, of what would come and how it was influenced. And then he had to come along, untangling every red string, unravelling the complex map until it was just a heap of yarn. He enticed you, enveloping your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to shut him out. Even in sleep, when darkness would encapsulate your mind, the oceans would burst through with ferocity, demanding to be felt, forcing you under the waves. You were drowning, and falling at the same time. A nightmare disguised as a dream.

You were the shadows, the eyes lurking from the back of the room. The steady thrum of an evening storm, the eventual fade of an echo. He had pulled you into the harsh light, holding your hands so you couldn’t cover your eyes. He had turned your thunder into lightning, your echo into a scream. And he had tugged you under, forcing you to paddle upwards, terrified and choking for air. Then once you’d break the surface, another wave would throw you back into the depths. He made you feel unpredictable and irrational, made you question everything you thought you were.

But the ocean could be calm too. For every wild storm, there were still days. Days where he’d send you a smile, or call your name softly, beckoning you to join him in the shallow, innocent waters.

That’s how he managed to always catch you in a riptide.

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Frozen In Time (Part 2/?) (Stark/Rogers x reader)

Request: always-an-evans-addict said: Can I request some happy Maggie? Like in another family but living? Like a ‘Hey weak girl is super happy and so is Steve’ thing? Please? :3  I’m probably gonna change the name, but she’s getting worked into this!

Part 1

An Army.  From outer space.

You truly hated to find yourself agreeing with Steve in any way, but his words of pure disbelief rang through your mind louder than ever now as you stepped out from the elevator at the tower, seeing the destruction left behind by a battle that you barely understood.  You were pretty sure that Tony barely had a good grasp on it either, but in this moment, you had never felt more out of place in this future than you did right now. You closed your eyes and took yourself back to the moment when you met that young version of your husband, remembering his promise to be at your side and teach you how to survive here; you were counting on him fulfilling that promise again, perhaps more than before.

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The Narrow Gate (Part 2)

Summary: [Y/N] is experiencing sinful feelings for her priest when she knows that she should not. Yet fate keeps bringing them together.

Pairing: James Buchanan Barnes x Reader

Words:  1391

Warnings: Priest kink. Nothing too extreme going on, except for being attracted to your priest, but since that priest is Bucky… ehhh?

A/N: It’s not all angst in this story… even if both characters are dealing with their issues. I mean, they laugh… every now and then. Read part 1 or see my Masterlist for more information.

Originally posted by nerdyfandomimagines

Chapter 2: Walk The Line

Matthew 5:33 “Again, you have heard that it was said to the ancients, ‘Do not break your oath, but fulfill your vows to the Lord.’”

Sunday mornings weren’t hard for her anymore. Waking up wasn’t as difficult. She found herself wearing her prettiest dresses. Her stomach fluttered when she entered the church. She was actually excited. She knew it was wrong, but she could not help it. She had wondered many times why could she not be like the other women and not develop sexual feelings for the priest. She looked around the congregation, and observed how the other women were admiring Father Barnes as he delivered his sermon… and she realized she was just like the other women. She sighed. God was testing her. That must be it. But who or what was she fighting for? Her dad? Morality? Had she not been mostly virtuous all her life… was she still not being good right now? She gave and she gave. She never hurt anyone. When would she be allowed to take? She glanced back at him. He stood behind the pulpit, so firm and capable, and she could feel her body sinning when her eyes roamed over his vigorous chest. It rose and fell gently. She clasped her legs together. She should stop sinning. She could not drag Father Barnes down with her.

So she continued to avoid him as much as was possible without being conspicuous, but it seemed that fate sometimes had other plans.

“Father Barnes…” [Y/N] walked into the diner, noticed him… and for some reason decided to disturb the man when he was eating in peace. She had no boundaries. She had no common sense. She should just order her food and be on her way.

He wiped his face with his napkin quickly, “[Y/N]. Hello.”

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Wicked Fate: 6

One Two Three Four Five Seven Eight

Lol I’m laughing so hard over this chapter, it’s so funny at first I can’t! 😂


Understanding how the pack worked was easier than you expected. Taeil had sat you down one evening after staying for dinner to explain the entire history of wolves and how they worked. You learned how they could communicate through telepathy while in wolf form, or how strong their senses were in general, including strength and a good sense of intuition.

At school, your friends were bombarded with many questions at lunch. Including how far they could hear or see, and enjoyed learning how being a werewolf affected their emotions strongly, or how they learned to control phasing from a young age.

And over the next week, spending time with Jeno was intoxicating. His presence to you personally was almost an addiction.

Jeno was much more open. He would smile at you in the hallways while passing through, stop to talk by your locker if their was time before class, or snuggle you against his side at lunch. Some days he would feel clingy and pull you into the most random of hugs, like he just needed affection. You would kiss his cheek, making him smile warmly. One day he felt really brave and kissed you on the school steps before being driven home.

And of course, each day, you would prepare yourself to confess your secret, the one nobody was ever supposed to know. But after failing to reveal that side of you for the past five days, you decided that today, was going to be the day, or you’d lose all courage and possibly not say a word at all.

Now, as you sat with Hana and Miseong at their dining room table, you were glad to have thought of your decision so you could focus on other things. For example: Laughing at Hana’s teacher imitations.

That evening, Hana invited you over for a studying session, and you would stay the night at their house this time.

You found that afternoon just bonding with the girls over personal discussions. It was something of a rare moment to share, and you cherished these moments, hoping you would never forget them.

All three of you had health class together, and although that class covered different topics every year, per se your physical and mental emotional health, this year, the covered topic was sex-ed, and the health classes were separated by gender. You girls couldn’t stop laughing over how awkward the teacher was when explaining said topic though.

To your surprise, Hana and Miseong were no where near shy to discuss sex.

You three were downstairs while the boys studied in Mark’s room.

“Goddess, she made it sound so scientific!” Hana exclaimed, then did her best imitation of your teacher and mocked, “The sperm finds the egg. Then attaches itself to your uterus.”

You and Miseong cracked up. This had been going on for awhile now, hours even, as Hana kept quoting your teacher in her own fabulous way.

“She wouldn’t even explain how the physical side of sex works,” Hana kept on ranting, exaggerating her frustrated expressions and tone, as you and Miseong were close to tears in your chairs as your stomachs began to cramp from laughing so hard.

“It’s like a disease she just wants to avoid,” Miseong chimed in. “And I heard this happens every year, every time sex-ed is even just mentioned.”

Your eyes widened. “You take health class every year?”

Hana rolled her eyes. “It wouldn’t be a waist of time if they taught us right. Like stop avoiding and just explain how sexual intercourse works! Miseong and I already learned everything from home, school just makes it boring.”

“Or just explaining and giving us a handout about STDs,” you pointed out, shaking your head at the packet in front of you. “Is this the only thing she’s going to cover this year?”

Hana shrugged. “Probably. Yes, it’s great stuff to know, but they don’t have to treat sex like it’s something horrifying.”

Miseong turned to you, asking, “How did your guardians explain it?”

“Oh no, I did research by myself,” you laughed. “Aunt Gayoon gave me a brief review and then told me, ‘Search up everything you want to know online.’ So my eyes already lost their innocence long ago.”

Hana nodded, letting the three of you calm down to actually focus on your work. “Yeah, in pack life, nudity is so common and sex is normally discussed, nobody’s innocent anymore.”

Miseong shuddered. “Not to mention when running with the pack.” She cringed, and you watched Hana make a face, sticking her tongue out to emphasize the disgust. “Some boys just can’t keep their heads out of the gutter.”

You laughed, feeling sympathetic. “That’s awful! I’m actually glad I don’t have that telepathic ability now.”

“Oh you will,” Hana stopped, facing you with a smirk. “After you and — ”

“ — Ew stop! Don’t talk to me about that!” You exclaimed while playfully shoving Hana’s chair, making your friends crack up again. “Go fantasize about your own mates!”

This caused everyone to howl in laughter, even forcing Taeyong to come down from his study and peek his head inside the room, just to make sure you three weren’t going insane. “Focus girls,” he ordered, tsking in disappointment. “Dinner won’t be served until at least half of your homework is finished.”

Hana groaned, sitting up straight and pointedy flipping through her textbook. “Oh go bother the boys,” she pouted, waving her hand in the staircase’s direction. “I’m sure they aren’t even studying.”

“Yeah,” Miseong replied, sass lacing her voice. “We’re all studying for our health class test.”

“You might wanna check on them,” you added, knowing the probability of them focusing was about 10%.

Taeyong paused, then nodded his head. “Good point. Now hurry up, people are hungry.”

As he headed towards the staircase, Hana yelled, “Don’t let their excuse and I quote, ‘Only for scientific research’ fool you!”

“I know,” Taeyong replied.

You three girls shared a laugh again before you said, “Yeah okay we need to finish, I’m starving.”

It wasn’t even a couple of minutes when Hana’s phone buzzed. She looked at her screen, then snickered, turning her phone so you and Miseong could read:

Mark: Traitors!

You snorted in amusement. “Ooh, respond to it!”

“Tell them, ‘Focus perverts,’ or something like that,” Miseong giggled.

Hana hummed in thought, pressing a finger to her lips, dramatically thinking. “How about just, ‘Don’t blame us.’ It’s on the group chat anyway.”

“No no wait, I know a good one,” you offered and whispered the answer into Hana’s ear.

It was only a matter of time did replies begin blowing up her phone:

Hana: K

Mark: I hate you.

Hana: K

Jaemin: Why ya gotta expose us?!

Hana: K

Chenle: THIS IS A NO “K” ZONE!

Hana: Okay.

Jeno: “Okay” is banned as well.

Hana: …

Jisung: Yah no dotting either!

Hana: 💭

Donghyuck: Use your words missy.

Hana: 🙂

Renjun: Don’t make us come down there.

Hana: 😎

Mark: You asked for it!!

No sooner did you receive the reply did you hear a rumble of footsteps crashing down the staircase.

“Hanaaaa!” Mark yelled.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“STOP SCREAMING!” Yuta’s voice roared from his room, stopping all commotion.

In the end, you all ended up sitting at the dining room table, sharing how awkward your health classes were and notes from your study guides. Surprisingly, you all finished your homework right before Jaehyun, Johnny, and Narae announced that dinner was ready.

By the time dinner was finished and you, including all the pups reviewed your study guides once more, it was already 10:00 at night. Now you were all setting up the mattresses, pillows, and blankets on the living room floor. Taeyong allowed the TV on if you kept the sound down before turning in for the night.

Around 2:00 you were all zonked out, scattered around the living room floor with empty popcorn bowls sitting on the coffee table that was pushed to the side.

You checked the date on the calendar. It had been three years since you and Jeno were officially mated, and you couldn’t have been happier.

It was your third year anniversary, and you couldn’t wait to have a small date by in the old forest by the lake, where you two used to live with the pack.

After showering and putting on clothes, you did your hair and makeup, making sure you put in a little more effort into your looks before walking out, calling out your mate’s name.

“Jeno! I’m rea — ”

You coughed, your chest suddenly bursting in pain, and you fell to the ground, convulsing violently.

“Y/N?” Jeno appeared in the doorframe, looking older but still a fresh young man. His eyebrows furrowed in worry, having heard the sound of you collapsing onto the floor.

Then he saw you lying still on the ground.

It wasn’t until you saw him running to your side, collapsing near your dead weight and begging for you to come back did you realize, you just witnessed your own death.

Then to your horror, a small girl, looking so much like you and Jeno, whispered into your ear. “Mama? Mommy?“

Dread filled your ghostly veins, immobilizing you.

You awoke with a start, the nightmare still clear in your mind. Your body went numb, and you were almost afraid to move, or even breath. It was just a dream, just a dream, that was it, just a dream.

But it was too weird, and yet too real for you to recover quickly.

The room temperature suddenly dropped, and you realized your multiple blankets had fallen from your body. Even your sweatpants and T-shirt were too thin to keep you warm. Feeling the need for fresh air, you sat upright, slowly pushing on your arms to stand on shaky legs, wrapping a blanket around your form.

Looking around, eyes adjusting to the darkness, you recognized Jeno’s and Hana’s sleeping forms lying on either side of your spot. Mark was near your friend’s head, with Jisung and Miseong at his side, while Jaemin, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Chenle made up the last of the living room floor.

After a moment, you found your outdoor shoes near the door and as quietly as possible, you opened the door. Stepping outside, you carefully closed the door behind you before taking off into the direction of the lake. You yearned to smell the fresh scent of trees and the water on your feet, watching the moon’s reflection in the rippling of small waves on the lake’s surface.

In the night, the forest looked completely different than it did in the day time. But you weren’t afraid, feeling a sense of immobile bravery wash over you as the moon’s light guided your way through the trees.

Finally, after refreshing and cleaning your brain from the nightmare, you came upon the lake and sat down, taking your shoes off and dipping your feet in the river.

The moon was full, and it’s reflection on the lake was clear and bright. You looked down at your reflection in the river. Messy hair, sweats, and your blanket around your shoulders. But your tired face wore an expression of haunting sadness.

You closed your eyes, wanting to erase the last bits of your dream away.

“Are you okay?”

Eyes shooting open, you faced your reflection once more, only to find the image of Jeno standing right behind you, leaning in, watching his reflection just as carefully. His hair was messy, sweatpants and T-shirt rumpled, but his eyes were soft and gentle, casting you a worried look, one so similar to the one in your dream that your heart lurched.

“How’d you find me?” you asked after recovering, meeting his gaze in your reflection.

Jeno took a step forwards, setting his hands upon your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your head. “Your scent, I tracked it,” he replied after a pause. “It’s anxious.”

You smiled. “That’s a little creepy.”

“What is?”

“You being in tune with my emotions.”

Jeno returned your smile. “It’s a wolf thing,” he murmured near your ear.

His words made your smile deepen, but then it slowly disappeared. Now was a good time, now was a perfect time for you to reveal all before you lost all courage. “Jeno?”


You pat the concrete beside you. “I need to explain something.”

He sat down beside you, pulling the blanket around you both as you snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder.

When he didn’t say anything, you took a deep breath. Now or possibly never. “Remember the party?”


“I think…sometime, during that night, I said something about a curse.”

“You did.”

“Did I tell you anything else?”

Jeno went silent for a moment, thinking hard. “You said something about a witch.”


“And that you couldn’t tell me anything more, but asked if I believed you. I said yes, I did.”

You turned, looking at his side profile, wondering if you were moments away from ruining your relationship. All the tender expressions, secret smiles, all the trust, ruined with just a few sentences. 

“That wasn’t the alcohol talking…” you took in a deep breath. “It’s going to sound crazy, and maybe even stupid…But this is why I was born into an alcoholic family, why my mom was in an unhappy marriage, the reason my sister commit suicide, why I’m alone with my guardians…” You trailed off, letting him process those words before hesitantly confessing, “My family bloodline is cursed…to die within three years of true love.”

Hearing the words from your own mouth sounded so crazy, you began to laugh quietly. “I sound pathetic,” you chuckled. “I sound like a damsel in distress that needs saving.”

Jeno stayed silent, gazing at the moon’s reflection like you did earlier. You didn’t pressure him to speak, or move, knowing he was digesting everything carefully, word from word, running it through his head before saying anything.

Minutes later, you heard his intake of breath, and waited for his words. “You do sound like a damsel in distress,” he chuckled lightly as you cast him a withering look, then added quickly, “But you’re not.”

“I hope so — ”

“ — because you’re going to save yourself.”

His words shocked you, and you stared at him, incredulous. “What? How?”

Jeno turned his head, holding your gaze. “Taeyong and Taeil have contacts to a white witch. I don’t know her name, but she helped us succeed in the past before.”

Your eyes widened. How come I never thought of that before? you asked, a little angry with yourself. “You think she can break the curse?”

Jeno nodded. “I believe so,” he said, sounding confident, and stood up, brushing his hands off.

“Wait, that’s it?” you asked, standing up after him. “You’re not mad?”

He looked at you. “About what?”

You suppressed the desire to roll your eyes. “That there’s a possibility that you, could only have a couple of years with me, your mate, and then never see me again.”

He blinked, eyes rolling quickly before landing on you, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “Well what do you want me to do? Throw a tantrum? Of course I’m angry by that.”

“No, I was just confused,” you said, holding his gaze stubbornly. “It’s like you totally dismissed that part of the problem.”

Jeno turned away for a moment, and you felt your heart plummet a little. His eyes closed, breathing in and exhaling deeply, as if trying to control his anger. Knowing he disliked dealing with complicated things, you wondered if you had pushed him too far, or if you were right and he should learn how to deal with complications in his life.

As he showed no sign of answering, you neatly folded up the blanket and turned, letting him have his space, beginning to walk away.


You stopped, the blanket tucked under your arm.

Hearing him step right behind you and place a hand on your shoulder, you slowly turned around, eyes searching his face for any give way signs of exploding, but instead, you found a tranquil calmth. His hand trailed up to gently trace your jaw before cupping the back of your neck. He leaned in, forehead touching yours, the other hand trailing down your arm to meet the blanket before pressing a soft kiss against the side of your mouth and then capturing your lips with his.

Unlike your first kiss, you reciprocated, pressing back just as softly and enjoying the light, warm pulls of his mouth. Your free hand reached up to his chest, fisting your hand into his shirt, while feeling his fingers tease themselves through your hair. His mouth was warm, inviting, but calm, feeling his reassurance through the kiss, an embrace, an apology.

When you pulled back, you felt him peck the bridge of your nose. “Mianhae,” he whispered. “I am angry about your curse, but it’s not your fault. I’m just nervous that…I might one day realize you aren’t here.” He kissed your forehead, than pulled you into his embrace, holding you tightly, mumbling, “But that won’t stop me from trying to break the curse. And I won’t let you just sit back and worry over it like a damsel in distress.”

You felt him bury his nose in your neck. “We can break it.”

As you two headed back to the pack house, Jeno grasped your hand, squeezing it tightly, and you shot him a warm smile before heading forwards.

You were both halfway there until Jeno suddenly tugged you to his side, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Jeno, what — ?”

But he pressed a finger to his lips, shushing your words. His eyes suddenly turned a glowing gold and you watched in fascination as two fangs pressed against his bottom lip. He turned his head, eagerly looking towards the pack house, and then back at you. His eyes were hard. “We aren’t alone here,” he whispered, rubbing your shoulder as he felt your anxiety. His nose wrinkled slightly, and he turned to look over his shoulder. “Someone’s tracking us.”

This time you welcomed his close proximity, pressing into his side.

“I’ve managed to contact Taeyong,” he whispered in your ear. “He’s sending out a patrol right now.”

“Should we keep moving?” you whispered, your words so quiet you almost didn’t hear your own voice, but Jeno did.

He shook his head. “No. We face away from the pack house, east. That way, our trackers know we sense them, and they’ll stop following us for a moment.”

So you two just stood there, huddled together in the middle of the pathway. “Try to sense which direction they’re coming from,” Jeno whispered.

“Didn’t you say east?”

“Yes but that’s the general direction. Try to be more specific.”

“Don’t you already know?”

Jeno smiled at you, tucking a piece of hair away from your face. “Yes, but I want you to try it. Feel the energy around you, see if you can sense it.”


“Close your eyes, and let your senses heighten.”

So you did, trusting him to keep a lookout as you closed your eyes and felt your ears pick up the sounds of the forest. Many critters ran across the path, whole crickets could be heard loud and clear. You mentally reached out, wondering what Jeno meant by energy, until after a few minutes of concentrating, you realized most of the forest felt clean, clear, and fresh, but as you focused more towards your right shoulder, the air felt a little more dense, more shadowed, murky.

“More towards my right and your left?” you barely breathed out, wondering if whatever you had felt out was real.

Jeno nodded against your head. “Yup. They’re just sitting there, waiting for us to turn our backs again.”

Suddenly a howl rang through the night, and you jumped slightly as Jeno sighed in relief. “They’re here.”

Soft, padded, paw thuds could be heard against the ground. You listened as they got close but then ran right by you two. “Do they know we’re right here?”

“Mhm. They’re going after our trackers.”

Nearby, a bush rustled and out stepped a large wolf with light fur. “Kun, gomawo,” Jeno said in relieved delight.

You watched, eyes widening in fear, but also in awe, as the wolf padded even closer, slowly, with calm, paced out steps, and you realized he was making sure not to frighten you. Learning about the whole concept of werewolves was one thing, actually seeing them, live, in the flesh, knowing they were also human, was still an intriguing sight to behold. 

He was larger in size than you remembered Jaemin to be, and his eyes glowed in the night, staring at you and Jeno.

You watched as Kun lowered himself to the ground, laying down on his stomach and Jeno encouraged you to climb on his back. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite,” he assured, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “This is just so we can get you home quicker.”

Eyeing Kun suspiciously, you looked back at Jeno, who smiled patiently, guiding you onto the wolf’s back with gentle hands. “Wrap your arms around his neck,” he instructed. “Hold on tight. I’ll be right behind you.”

“W-wait,” you stuttered. “I won’t crush him?”

Kun let out a chuff and Jeno laughed. “He thinks you’re funny.”

You shot the wolf a look. “I’m glad.”

As your ride slowly stood back up, you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, looking down at the ground, feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

Right as he did, loud howls rang out again, signaling a battle had begun and Kun leaped up, quickly trotting home with Jeno right behind you.

A few minutes later, you three came out of the forest. Under the few porch lights that looked out among the front yard, you realized Kun’s pelt was dirty-blonde. And just like Jeno had described his wolf self, his pelt was chocolate brown with dark streaks.

Eunjung was right, you thought, her words coming back to you, they really are beautiful creatures.

A light nudge to your leg broke your thoughts, realizing Kun was nudging your leg with his muzzle. “Oh right, I’ll get off.”

Hoping down off of Kun’s back, you thanked him before he ran off into the forest after his patrol. Leaving you with Jeno.

Jeno was slightly smaller than Kun, but almost a full grown adult. He sat back on his hunches, eyes golden, watching you carefully, almost greedily, it was beginning to feel very intense.

You held out a hand, palm facing him, as if waiting for him to come near you. Slowly, Jeno pushed off his legs and stepped forward until his muzzle was an inch from your hand. Wait for them to come to you.

His head then nudged your hand in encouragement, again, going slow, making sure not to frighten you, then surged forward, letting your hand drop onto his pelt.

It was rough but soft in certain places. His sides were soft while the very top of him were slightly rough, but that was just so…so Jeno. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little, even laugh out loud when he pressed his nose against your cheek.

“Eunjung was right,” you whispered to him, pressing your forehead in between his two ears. You stroked his muzzle, and heard a low rumble in his throat, almost like a purr, but stronger. “You guys are so magnificent.”

You don’t know how long you just stood there, stroking Jeno’s muzzle to as far as you could reach down his spine. But the act was relieving, a milestone for both of you.

The next morning, you and Jeno stayed silent about your discussion last night, and decided to later bring it up privately.

Of course you quietness didn’t go unnoticed by Hana. She was like a something-is-wrong-with-my-friend-talk-now kind of detective. 

“You and Jeno are awfully quiet this morning,” she had pulled you into her room, closing the door behind you.

“We’re always quiet,” you mentioned, giving her a look.

Hana rolled her eyes. “I mean’t quieter than usual.”

At first you didn’t answer, wondering if it was appropriate until Hana grasped your shoulders, making sure you held her gaze. “Y/N. I know you get really quiet when there’s something important on your mind.”

You glanced down, avoiding her intense gaze before folding. “I…it’s complicated and —”

“Is it about Jeno?”

“What no. Well sort of but not really.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Just, shut up for a second lemme explain.”

Hana nodded, falling silent.

You shot her a grateful glance. “I’m not going into detail, but Jeno and I need to talk with Taeyong and Taeil about a white witch.”

Her eyes shot up. “Amber?”

“Who’s Amber?” you asked, confused.

Hana chuckled. “That’s the white witch that helped us rescue Jisung about two years ago.“

Her words made you stop. “Jeno mentioned about Amber helping you out with something. What happened to Jisung?”

She shook her head. “That’s another story to tell later. Perhaps Amber will tell you.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And Y/N?”


“Whatever you need help with,” she murmured and pulled you into a hug. “I hope you solve it.”

You nodded into her shoulder. “Gomawo.”

It wasn’t until after lunch did you and Jeno excuse yourselves and head up to Taeyong’s room.

Having never been in the Alpha’s room, you were surprised by how clean it was. It was close to sparkly clean, not a speck of dirt was in sight. 

Jeno waited patiently for you, giving you a few minutes to poke around, perhaps read the spines of the books on the large bookshelf before raising a fist and knocking on the wooden door to the study. “Hyung?” he asked. “Are you busy?”

You both heard shuffling, and then the door opened, Taeyong standing before you in jeans and short sleeve shirt. “Not at the moment. What’s going on?”

After being ushered onto the mini sofa in front of his desk, you and Jeno caught him up to what you both discussed at the lake. His expression didn’t change, remaining impassive until you were both done speaking.

His eyebrows furrowed, thinking over your words carefully. “Getting Amber to help sounds good. But are you sure she can break it?”

Jeno shrugged. “What other choice do we have?”

“How do you two plan on meeting her?”

Silence fell over the room. You shot Jeno a glance, realizing none of you had thought of how you’ll actually see her.

A sudden knock interrupted the moment.

“Busy,” Taeyong called out.

“I have an idea.”

It was Eunjung.

She crept in, silently closing the door behind her. “I apologize but I couldn’t help overhearing what you two need, and I know a way you can meet Amber.”

“Please share it.”

Eunjung stood behind the couch, leaning on the back cushions. “The library is rather peaceful in the winter, and I can ask Narae take my shift for this upcoming week, which is the same as hers. Perhaps we can take a road trip to wherever Amber lives. Just Y/N, Jeno, and me.”

Taeyong nodded slowly, leaning on the edge of his desk, legs loosely crossed. “Sounds like a plan. Sometime this upcoming week?”


“Is that okay with you two?” he looked at you both. 

Jeno nodded while you said, “I could use a few days off school.”

Taeyong smiled. “Okay. I’ll call up Taeil and see if Iseul has her coordinates.”

As he did just that, you asked Jeno quietly. “Who’s Iseul?”

“A vampire and supernatural hunter,” he explained. “Iseul worked with us before too.”

“In rescuing Jisung?”

“Who told you?”

“Hana. But she didn’t give me any details.”

“Oh. I can tell you later.”

The phone call only took a few minutes. Taeyong had gotten out a peace of paper and wrote down something. Wishing Taeil a successful day, he hung up, handing Eunjung the paper slip.

She took it, looked at the coordinates, then shot both you and Jeno a large grin. “Start packing for the beach young ones.”


Also, I did some research on health classes in high schools in Korea. But in all seriousness were your health teachers good teachers? Because mine was blunt and graphic af.

References to Hunter’s Night, anyone?

anonymous asked:


*cracks knuckles* buckle up buttercup

-Dirk is the most touch-starved person ever. During his time at Blackwing he was never touched for anything except experimentation/transportation purposes, and the lack of physical contact fucked with his head to the extent that he actually started to look forward to the 0.2 secs of physical contact he’d get as the doctor was fastening electrodes to his head (even though he knows the only thing that follows is pain). Of course he would then immediately go to feeling guilty and wrong and start questioning his own sanity. He now has a distinctly weird relationship with physical contact. He does it all the time, touches his friends and sometimes even non-friends because he can do that now, but sometimes he can’t immediately tell if a touch is non-friendly in nature- or if he can tell, the part of him that chased any human contact regardless of intention during his developing years doesn’t care. It’s a serious dent in his sense of self-preservation and he hasn’t entirely worked it out yet.

-on being re-captured by Blackwing, he had his jacket and Mexican Funeral shirt taken away, and his head shaved. It takes months for the military buzzcut to grow back to his old length after his rescue- and every time he looks in the mirror during those months he’s reminded of everything else Blackwing has taken from him.

-despite his confidence that the universe will take him where he needs to go, he can never quite shake the feeling that he’s doing everything wrong. He always used to tell the Blackwing scientists ‘it doesn’t work like that!’ when his ‘power’ didn’t get them the results they wanted, and he does believe that. But years of being told that you’re doing it wrong, that you’re not reaching your full potential, that this is a thing you could do if only you put the work in and made it happen, that THIS IS WHAT YOUR POWER SHOULD BE take their toll. When he follows the thread of fate to its destination and people get hurt along the way, he can never quite shake the voice in his head that says if he’d done his job right this could have all been avoided.

-he loves his little adopted family with all his heart. Todd, Amanda, Farah. Even the Rowdies grow on him eventually, once Amanda tells them Dirk’s emotions are off-limits. He’s often reminded, though, listening to them talking about their parents and their siblings, that he’s got very little in common with them. He doesn’t have family stories to share. He doesn’t know where his mother is, or even if she’s still alive. He never had siblings, and most of his very short childhood is lost to him, over-written in his mind by his, uh, unconventional Blackwing upbringing. Strangely enough, the Rowdies are the only ones that really get it. They don’t talk about their lives pre-Blackwing, it opens old scars they’d rather keep shut. But Martin and Cross had families once, Gripps may even have been a father. Vogel was too young, younger even than Dirk- the Rowdies are the only family he’s ever known. Sometimes Dirk will watch Todd and Amanda, bickering like siblings do, and one of the Rowdies will meet his sad gaze and nod. They see him. They understand. It doesn’t help, but it’s nice to know.

anonymous asked:

Obi and Hondo, 7? (Can be just goofy, whatever spin you want to put on it.)

Hello Nony! I bet you thought I forgot about you didn’t you? Well never fear! I… er…

I wrote 9K words of this… So! I present to you and the rest of tumblr…

Ohnaka v Skywalker: Dawn of Nonsense

It all started when Anakin fell afoul of some Weequay pirates on the Outer Rim.

He and Ahsoka had stopped off at a way station to refuel their starfighters when the planet, a forgettable ball of rock by the name of Gital 3, was suddenly besieged by a fleet of pirate ships jumping out of hyperspace. Of course, they had sprung into action, the noble Jedi that they were, and ran for their fighters, intending to defend the planet from the invaders.

They never got the chance as one of the ships sailed through the atmosphere and blasted Ahsoka’s aethersprite sky-high. Fortunately Artoo had been trailing after his master and the tiny astromech was left unscratched. Sadly, the same could not be said for Ahsoka’s Arfour but nothing good ever happened to an Arfour unit when Skywalker was around.

Pinned down by the pirate ships, the master and padawan scampered back to the building they had been eating at, telling the occupants inside to run for shelter and take cover.

“Why should we?” one of the patrons at the bar sniffed. “We don’t have anything Mama Ohnaka could want. We just pay our fee and go on with our day.”

“Yeah! It’s just business!” came the drunken snarl from an Ithorian’s translator in the back. His call was echoed around the joint and the Nikto bartender shook his head as he looked over at Anakin and Ahsoka.

“You better hide those sabers,” he offered. “If Mama sees those, you’re as good as bantha scat. She’ll ransom you triple your worth and still doublecross your Republic.”

“You don’t mess with Mama,” one of the humans at the bar said, shaking his head, the chimes hanging from the ends of his dreadlocks tinkling.

“I don’t suppose this… Mama is related to the pirates based out of Florrum, by any chance?” Anakin asked, a low, twisting feeling in his gut as he glanced back at Ahsoka. If what they said was true, he had to get his padawan out of there and into a safe place.

“Oi! Olack! What was the name of Mama’s kid again?” the bartender asked the sullen Ithorian.

“Hando, I think?” the hammer-headed alien grumbled into his drink. “Either way, you Jedi are karked.”

Keep reading

Summoner/Takumi C-S support

Written by  fizzifizzsoda


y/n: …

Takumi: …

y/n: …

Takumi: Well, you said you wanted to speak to me. Are you going to spit it out, or should I just head back to the training grounds?

y/n: … Heheheh… Just like I thought.

Takumi: What? What’s that supposed to mean?

y/n: Just wondered what you’d be like.

Takumi: That… makes even less sense.

y/n: It helps to know something about those I send into combat. My first test is patience. My next is social ability, though… I suppose I shouldn’t tell you too much, heheh. 

Takumi: … I understand what you mean now, but it’s still rude, you know. 

y/n: … Well, I should be going now.

Takumi: Wha-? Ugh, that person really is weird. I wonder where they went… and how.

[y/n and Takumi have reached support rank C.]


y/n: You’re here…

Takumi: Let me guess, another get-to-know-your-troops session?

y/n: No… Not this time. You don’t trust me, do you?

Takumi: Why would I? I admit, I feel a little more… Open to you than I probably should, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.

y/n: Interesting. Why do you think that is? Your mistrust I mean.

Takumi: Is this even a question? I’m mysteriously pulled out of my home, away from those I love, to fight a war in a distant land, with a stranger from a world unlike anything I’ve ever heard of giving me orders… so, I’d say it’s not so much “mistrust” as “common sense”.

y/n: You’re not the only one to say something similar… To me this world seems like something from a fairy tale, or a story book. Most, if not all, of your worlds are like that.

Takumi: I guess I didn’t think about it from your position. This must be pretty strange to you too.

y/n: I’ll see if I can get Alphonse or Sharena to address your concerns. As for your home and family- I’m sure I’ll be able to bring one or two members of your world here. It’s likely just a matter of time. 

Takumi: I guess I wouldn’t put it past you. Who knows? Maybe you could even bring someone from your world.

y/n: Well, um… Hey, I think Alphose is calling. Bye.

Takumi: Huh? But I didn’t hear anything. Did I say something wrong?

[y/n and Takumi have reached support rank B.]


Takumi: Hey. I found you.

y/n: Well, isn’t this a surprise? Hello, Takumi. You sound as though finding me is an achievement. 

Takumi: Lately it has been. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me for some reason. Every time I do see you it’s because you send me into battle.

y/n: Really? I didn’t think it was like that. I’ve just been… Busy.

Takumi: I know you probably are, but, I needed to talk to you about the last time we spoke.

y/n: Oh, um, yes… What is it?

Takumi: After I mentioned your world, you seemed to get really sad. Is there something about it that’s been haunting you?

y/n: Perhaps, but it’s of no importance. I have more going for me now than I ever did back there… But…

Takumi: But…?

y/n: I suppose for some reason I miss that place, even though while I was there, all I wanted to do was get away from it. Heheh, strange right?

Takumi: Maybe not as strange as you think. Maybe you’ve made friends here, but you had some back there, didn’t you? 

y/n: If my cats count, then I suppose so, yes. I wonder if anyone’s been feeding them. Has my apartment been audited yet? Did I get fired? Probably. Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t be laying all of this on you, but I suppose admitting a weakness is the first step to overcoming it. Thank you.

Takumi: It’s fine. If you ever need to talk about it, I’d be willing to lend an ear.

y/n: That’s all I could ask for.

[y/n and Takumi have reached support rank A.]


Takumi: Hey, y/n, I’d like to talk to you for a minute. In private.

y/n: This is the first time you’ve used my name since we’ve met. This must be serious.

Takumi: Well, it is. Come on, I know a place we can go.

[they leave]

y/n: Alright, what did you want to talk about?

Takumi: It’s about the way you’ve been talking to me lately.

y/n: Oh, is it too personal? I could always step back if I’m overwhelming you.

Takumi: No, that’s not it! I mean, not all of it. The way you talk to me, do you talk to all heroes like that? Or am I just, I don’t know, special to you? I mean I’d like to be, but I understand if I’m not.

y/n: Well, Takumi, you are special to me. When you first showed up, I was happy to see you, like most heroes. You were just another. But after we’ve talked more and I’ve gotten to know you, well, you became more special to me than you may want to be.

Takumi: What do you mean by that?

y/n: Takumi, this is- I suppose it’d be unfair to keep it from you. I love you, Takumi. I know that we can’t be together forever, but still, I love you.

Takumi: y-y/n…

y/n: … It may be inappropriate, because, technically, I’m just the strategist who gives you orders, but I cannot change my feelings. I apologize. If you’d like, I could send you back home. You can forget any of this ever happened.

Takumi: NO!! Um- no. I don’t want to do that. Because… the thing is, I love you too. That’s why I wanted to be so special to you. I mean, I want to be special to my siblings too, but it’s different with you. I don’t just want to be as good or better than you, I want to be good FOR you!

y/n: I don’t know how to respond. You know we couldn’t work, right? You’ll need to go home eventually.

Takumi: I think… I’d like to stay here with you, y/n. 

y/n: Are you certain?

Takumi: As long as you’re with me, I could never be more sure!

[y/n and Takumi have reached support rank S.]

reverse onism

Originally posted by taegxk

pairing: taehyung x reader
genre: angst, fluff, au!au, slight photographer!taehyung
word count: 12,951
summary: shifting realities are something of a bother, but a single constant named kim taehyung makes things just a little bit easier

a/n: i want to clarify that i’m using the very strict definition of “alternate universe” here, so please don’t expect someone to suddenly appear with a sword shouting “ahoy matey!” because you’ll be sorely disappointed.

From the moment a person is born, their lives are split into infinite possibilities, a single point bursting into fine lines that tread in parallel down the river of time. Each thread, in turn, breaks off into any number of additional fibers, every outcome produced by the dice of fate documented into the space that defines a person’s existence.

Some threads are cut shorter than others, while others extend past the horizons of time, and still more come to wrap themselves onto one another in an unpredictable fabric of cause and effect. Alternate universes, they call it, although the reality of their existence lies far beyond the scope of human imagination.

If the river of time drags these uncountable strings in one direction, then a person’s various selves follow a single, meandering path, contouring the shape of one reality as the facts that are weaved into truth remain the truth. But you are paddling against the current, threads pushed haphazardly across the blanket of space as time ushers you from one universe to the next. For you, the facts fold and unfold upon themselves, realities that were true mere minutes ago melting into false ones, and throughout it all the world continues to spin.

In other words, life was complicated.

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When Fate Plots and Portals Glitches

Summery: Dannys’ first red flag that something’s up was when he dug himself outta hole in the middle of a park. Second, was that his only memory before climbing out was a strange woman making an (admittedly convincing) claim of being the personification of fate. And third, was when he could see spirits that no-one his age should be able to see. Spirits like, Jack Frost.

Danny Fenton had been homeless for three weeks.

Three. Weeks.

And aside from a few measly details. Those three weeks was all he could remember. He didn’t know where he’s from, where he was born, where he used to lived, who was his family, he didn’t even know if his family was still alive. Or if he ever even had one.  

He snuggled a little deeper into his dirt stained red jacket as he crossed his arms over his folded legs. Not because of the cold, but of the strangeness of it all truly beginning to settle in.

And all because of a woman with a clipboard.

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I AM the Chosen One

I was young when the monks came to my village and told me I had been chosen. I was a rice farmer’s daughter and knew nothing of fates and destinies, I had always believed I would grow up to tend the rice fields as my parents, grandparents and great grandparents had before me.

But the monks believed otherwise. “You’re the One” they cried, I had never been looked upon with such reverence as I was in that moment, “A girl with skin as black as night and eyes of earth and sea, she will be our saviour and bring about a new era of prosperity!”

Indeed I was a girl with skin as black as night, with an eye of brown and one of teal, this seemed as much evidence as the monks needed to insist that I be taken to their temple, to learn their ways and train for my destiny.

My parents, though they would miss me, were more than happy to oblige, I would be given a good home, with enough food to keep me well, and the monks would have herbs of healing if I were to get sick, my poor village had none of these luxuries and so my loving, caring parents sent me away, they were happy to believe that I could achieve greatness and make a change to our land.

The monks were kind and respectful, and as they had on our first meeting, would only look upon me with a shine to their eyes that I imagined a God would find in the eyes of their worshippers. Yet though they had only the utmost respect for me, they did not spoil me. My clothes, food and lodgings were as humble as any other monks, they would scold me fairly if I misbehaved and praise me when I did well, I trained among other acolytes and was not given any favouritism (though I could sense they wished dearly to).

The monks were weary of raising me spoiled, and had mastered the art of avoiding such tragedies. So it was that I came of age, a wise, strong and competent young woman who was ready to depart on my journey.

I was to travel and the fates would throw tests upon me, the great size and strength I had been gifted aided me well in battles against savage beasts. The meditation and mindful thought practices taught to me by the monks proved an asset when faced with manipulative Fae creatures who prayed on loose thoughts and rampant emotion to bend you to their will. Growing up in poor farming conditions had taught me to be humble and kind to those who had little, and to always break bread and share rations with those who so kindly gave me lodgings.

Over the years of my journey I had become battered and bruised, leaving scars to remind me of my past triumphs and losses, my will had been bent and nearly broken but in the end was all the stronger for it. I made friends and enemies and learned lessons about naivety and ignorance and all the flaws I had grown with were gradually swept away by the experience and knowledge I gained on my quest.

Until finally, with a warm heart, a full mind, and a lifted spirit, I returned to the monks, a sight different from how I left. A scar gained, an arm lost, strength doubled, will unbreakable. A warrior, a diplomat, a hero, a Legend.

I expected a humble hero’s welcome, I expected proud faces and shining eyes.

I received none of these things. “You have returned.” the single monk at the gate regarded me coldly. “We thought you may have perished.” I did not miss the disappointed tone in his voice.

He took me inside and I met with the head of the temple, he kept his composure well, but I could read from his body what his face would not betray. He was furious.

“You are not the Chosen One.” he told me.

It was the first time I had ever been told such a thing. I would have thought this a test some years ago, before I learned how to read through lies, and sense deceit. There was no deceit here.

“We spoke with your parents after you left for your journey, we spoke to them many times, they asked about you and we kept them informed of your progress when your letters came. When you wrote of a male colleague you were journeying with we were concerned about… accidents… occurring. It is difficult to quest when you are with child after all.”

He had poured himself tea, he did not offer me a cup. I would not have been able to swallow even a mouthful anyway, I knew where this was conversation was going… and I was terrified.

“Your parents told us something interesting. You are not capable of carrying a child, they said. We had always assumed your physical development was simply the way you were built, broad shouldered and small waisted, we believed it was the fates giving you the body of a warrior.”

He sipped his tea, taking longer than was necessary. He was watching me, watching me sweat and shake.

“You have the body of a MAN.” his composure finally slipped, he slammed the cup back down on the table, an acolyte outside the door jumped at the sound but did not come in to investigate. “The prophecy told of a GIRL, a GIRL with skin as black as night. A GIRL with eyes of earth and sea. SHE will be our saviour and bring about a new era of prosperity!” I had heard these words many times over, but never had they felt so sharp, so raw, so painful.

“You have lied to us from the very beginning! You are no Chosen One, we wasted all these years, all this effort, all our hopes and dreams all for just some common rice farmer’s SON.”

He waited for my denial, he waited for my excuses, my apologies, my grovelling for forgiveness. I did not give him any of these things. I gave him the truth.

“I have the body of a man,” I said to him, “But I am a woman, from birth I have been a woman, as soon as I could speak I asked that my parents call me by a woman’s name. I wore women’s clothes and grew women’s hair, all my life I have spent being a woman to all those who have met me, all those who know me know me as a woman. You taught me yourself that your mind and your spirit can hold truths that the body could never know, and my spirit knows that I am more than my body, my spirit knows that I AM A WOMAN.”

It was my turn to lose my composure. My voice blew open the chamber door, it thundered through the temple halls and onto the grounds. It brought with it wind and energy and POWER. Magick that I had learned and woven into my voice, imbued into my very being. My words were power, and that power rattled the hearts and minds of all those who believed me to be what I was not.

A man.

The head monk sat speechless, eyes wide. I waited, time passed.

He pointed to the door. The look in his eyes made it clear that I was no longer welcome here.

I left, I did not bow in respect as was custom, he had lost his right to my respect. I had given up my family for his prophecy, I had given up my home, my hand. But it was not enough, because after everything I had gone through, the journeys I had taken, the quests I had completed, the tests I had passed, none of it was enough for the monks.

Because the Gods gave me a body that was not meant for me.

I would love to say I was above it all. I was above feeling hurt by the monks’ rejection, I was above feeling furious and betrayed and lost and… and… I didn’t even know what else I felt, but I did know that out of all the heartbreak and loss I had ever experienced in my travels, this day left them all behind. The monks had been my family and they had deserted me. The destiny I had been promised had been taken away in a fleeting moment.

Perhaps they were right, perhaps I was no Chosen One. I was just a rice farmer’s daughter. If the monks had rejected me for my false body, why not destiny? Why not fate? Perhaps there truly was another girl with skin as black as night and eyes of earth and sea, one with a body that truly matched her mind, perhaps all this time I had been playing someone else’s role…

I did not know what to do with myself after this revelation. I had no path without the monks’ guidance. So I went home.

My parents were more than happy to see me again. We hugged and kissed and they served me a bland dinner of rice and fish and it tasted like home and love and acceptance. My mother told me I had grown to be a beautiful strong woman, my father told me I had made our village proud. They had heard stories of me, would you believe it? Stories of my exploits had spread so far and wide they had made it back to my little village, to my home.

Despite everything I slept well that night.

The monks continued looking for their Chosen One, but could find nothing. Some years passed, I tended the fields with my mother and father, I helped the village in ways no one else could, blowing away storm clouds with my magick, setting complex rodent traps that only I knew how to build. I could carry more supplies than any. I helped everyone. I was loved. It was nice. It was calm.

It was wrong.

Everything within me yearned for bigger things, my spirit wished to soar, my body ached to battle, my mind was desperate to be challenged. There were people I wanted to see, places I wanted to visit, problems in the world that had yet to be solved. My home village, as peaceful and quaint as it was, could not be my home any longer.

I rubbed a hand over the stump of my right arm, I gently touched the scar marring my perfect black skin, the scar running over the eye that was the colour of tilled earth. I had lost so much, things I could not get back, my sacrifices had been wasted here in the rice fields. I had a destiny to fulfil, and if the monks weren’t going to tell me where to find it, I was going to track it down myself.

I travelled the roads on which I began my journey, back then a tall, wiry sprig of a girl with a heart full of adventure, I travelled this road now with shoulders that could carry the world, a heart hardened by pain and softened again by love. It was ready to begin this journey anew. My quest now was not to better myself, not to prove to anyone that I was worthy, that I had to be given my path, that I was reliant upon any prophecy.

My quest now was to make my mark upon this world. To help it and to change it, I would aid those in desperate need, tear down the walls of the ones who hoarded their treasures, I would start rebellions and topple corrupt systems.

Because regardless of the body the Gods gave to me, I AM the girl with skin as black as night and eyes of earth and sea, and I will be your saviour and bring about a new era of prosperity.

…hi hi, so I wrote this thing because the idea of fairytale scenarios involving people of different genders and sexualities is so interesting to me, so I gave writing it a shot. I am not trans so I don’t have the insider info on what it’s like but I tried very hard to be respectful. If there is anything offensive, disrespectful or just wonky about my portrayal I am very sorry and please let me know what I can do to fix it.

Mad respect for all y'all non-binary folk out there, I very much hope I did you justice ~

anonymous asked:

im in need of angst so... rfa members reactions to their S.O. cheating on them??

Originally posted by bricesander

(spoilers for routes!!)

(also i got really into yoosung’s?? i took a vet med class and still have my book from it and reread the whole euthanasia chapter)

(i got tired towards the end oops)

Keep reading

necrowhisper  asked:

I was going through some of the informational stuff youve posted and I was wondering if there's any significant difference between Galdr and Seidr magic? I read one post on tumblr that stated Seidr is closer to astral, meditation, and nonverbal stuff whereas Galdr is vocal, chants, words, and that sort of thing. While Im sure the two can cross over or blend, what the heck are Galdr and Seidr magic? Could they be "modernized" or are they already sort of universal? Sorry for the bombardment lol

Though they can blend, there are important differences between the two, yes. Putting this under a readmore because it got long.

Keep reading

“…Magizoologist remain confused at the origins of the North American ‘Pukwudgie.’ Though resembling many members of the Homo Terrus family (which includes the Gigan, Troglodytae, Americanus, Himalayus, and, despite the protest of the International Collegium of Goblin Scholars, Cobalus families), the Pukwudgie exhibits a sort of magical power uncommon to other members of the species. Though far from purely malevolent, the Pukwudgie have a truly savage sense of humor and a set of social norms and conventions that have completely baffle Magianthropolgists. Friendly overtures to Puckwudgie individuals have been met with everything from scorn to outright violence for over three hundred years.

Those few Wizards and Witches that descend from Wampanoag tribe native to the North Eastern Region say that attempts to deal fairly with these mischievous denizens of the swamps and deep forests is an exercise in pointlessness. They claim that the Puckwudgie are, indeed, descended from the might Giants that once roamed North America, shaping the mountains and chasing the great mammoth herds that dwelled here. Unlike their European and Asian counterparts, these giants were largely a peaceful and benevolent race, and in the ancient days they were allies of the People of all Tribes. But as time went on, the Age of Great Things passed, and soon all the massive beasts that were once so common began to vanish. The fate of the great North American Giants differs depending on which tribe you talk to. Some say they went to sleep in land that had spawned them, becoming great hills and small mountains until the day would come when it was time for them to awake once more. [1] Other tribes are more practical in their assessment of the fate of the Giants, claiming they simply began to die out when their natural prey, the mammoths, began to go extinct and the world began to warm.

The Wampanoag Tribe, however, don’t believe that all the giants died or went into deep sleep. One giant, named Maushop, was a powerful sorcerer in his own right, and while he could do nothing to save himself, he could save his children. Maushop cast a powerful spell, which was meant to transfigure his children into smaller things, but Maushop miscalculated. His seven sons and seven daughters crumbled before his eyes, becoming 98 demonic Pukwudgie. Maushop, who had guided the tribes for centuries, told the Puckwudgie to live amongst the tribes, and look after them while they were gone. But in growing so small and breaking so thoroughly apart, the Puckwudgie had also become jealous and resentful. They hated that they had been made to change, they hated that they were now smaller than the humans, and they hated their father for making them that way. So the Puckwudgie became tricksters and demons, each a little crueler than the last. Eventually, a powerful witch named Squanit, who had learned much of her craft at the knee of Maushop, was forced to take steps, defeating the strongest of the Pukwudgie in combat and forcing them into sacred vows that they would no longer plague the Tribes.

This, the Native Wizards claim, was Squanit’s only folly, for while they were prevented from harming the tribes directly, the arrival of Europeans only stoked their savagery. They are still consumed with spite, and while much of their viciousness has been dulled over the centuries. their magical powers are still as sharp as ever. They can pass unseen, and create blinding mists, summon fire, and craft cunning illusions. Magizoologists working in the field in New England, and especially the Muggle state of Massachusetts are advised to avoid the little creatures whenever possible.”

-Magical Species of the American North East, by Hazel Goode, 2007.

[1] Some scholars of Native American History and Magical Practice claim that the famous Ghost Dance attempted in 1890 was a call to these slumbering Giants, as tribal sorcerers sought their aid in defeating further European encroachment. The violence with which this ceremony was put down and its participants dealt with by both Muggle and Wizarding authorities was supposedly a testament to the fear the magical community felt at the potential success at such a ritual…and some claim the MRD maintains the last remaining notes on how to complete the ritual somewhere in their Dark Files.


Halloween is still not here and yet I’m in a horror mood, so I scribbled a bunch of spooks from the jumbled machinations of my mind. Biography-wise they are:

-Count Van Zaff: An elderly 1000+ year old vampire that, tired of the usual routine of his kind, decided to retire himself to an old abandoned manor to live an eternity of peaceful solitude, but little did he know that his home would attract strange bizarre beings that he ultimately would have to contend with.
    While aged the Count is just as devious as he was in his prime when the situation calls for it but otherwise he’s a neutral figure that would rather read and drink mantis juice all day for he is a «Demon of Culture» in his own words, although he would rather avoid bureaucratic matters at all times.
    In his solitude he is accompanied by his pet bat Prometheus that, following its natural death, was brought back to life as a machine to always be at the Count’s side. Seemingly innocuous the robotic mammal is a deceptive rascal that’s all too willing to torment noisy outsiders with its ghastly enhancements.

-Doc Fritz: Enigmatic and overall perplexing, Fritz is the remains of a brilliant scientist that, refusing to accept death, perpetuated his existence exponentially by uploading his brain into a spider-like automaton.
          In a fateful day he crossed paths with Count Zaff who was mourning over the passing of his pet Prometheus and sensing a shiny opportunity, he offered to revive the bat in exchange for residence in the Count’s Manor. Following the bat’s successful mechanization, Fritz got himself the secured haven that he needed for his nebulous research on all things science-related.
          In spite of his good companionship with the Count, Fritz tends to come off as over-bearing and rude to most people for he values his work above all else in a stern manner and doesn’t think much of distractions in his free time, although he does have fascination with astrology which has been rooted to him since childhood. Due to a bug in the voice modulator of his automaton suit, his voice at times can vary between being scratchy or smooth depending on how tense, excited or calm Fritz is at the moment.

-Adam: One of Fritz’s creations, Adam came to be when the Count requested to the Doc a servant to do the common chores in the house. Big and imposing, Adam is in reality a rather ambivalent figure that has more into his personality that his appearance would suggest.
     For once his default choice of clothing tailored by the Count gave him a taste for requited fashion and his repeated work on the vampire’s library made him a literary know-it-all over the course of his existence. While a surprising personality, Adam is very sleepy due to his long work hours and often needs custom made batteries to alleviate the exhaustion and at times his blocky hands (a design oversight by the Doc) make him panicky on more specific actions.

-Emperor Toht: On one day during an antique fair Adam brought a strange bird-like sarcophagus home as a gift to the Count, but little did the Manor’s residents know that the it would contain their next member, the Once-Emperor of the Land of the Red Sands, Toht.
             Among the inhabitants of Zaff’s manor, Toht is the most pompous and extravagant although he’s deep down the grouchiest of the bunch since he’s still bound to the earth by unknown circumstances instead of being on the afterlife with the rest of his lineage and he’s not happy about it, not one bit. Initially wanting to be the new owner of the residence, Toht begrudgingly had to relent to the Count and ultimately occupies the top floor of the manor alongside his mummified undead pets, practicing occult rituals and trying to fix what went wrong with his death in order to escape from his undead existence. 

            Although he looks down on the Doc and Adam for being «dirty peasants», Toht has gradually developed some degree of respect for the elderly vampire lord in terms of the Count’s noble figure which nostalgically reminds Toht of his glory days.

-Miss Helga: During one of Fritz’s experiments he was about to create another servant to help out Adam but, because of a distracted slip-up, a mound of carnivorous plants was mixed with the subject and the end result surfaced as a deranged plant-like construct.
           Helga, as the Doc named as he was developing her, is a heavily bipolar being since her mutated state gives to her a very unorthodox perception of reality, one moment she could be as gentle as a lamb and by the next she could be chewing down on a poor sap’s neck, although she’s more natural towards those she accustomed to. Her voice is often jokingly referred as her «scariest» attribute for it’s a deep croaky voice that clashes with her otherwise colorful appearance and scares off the unexpected and the ignorant.
           In spite of her original function Helga mostly works as the Count’s gardener and on her wake the Manor’s gardens ended up filled with odd foliage made of her own design and being, complete with enhanced sentience and even some extent of unique personalities to each one. Relations-wise, Helga goes along with the Doc and Adam, tends to be on and off with Count particularly on more superficial matters and is openly antagonistic towards Toht butting heads with him far too often over the latter’s high-above-all attitude.

Dog (1/3)

Summary: The only thing Gavin finds more terrifying than Ryan is the enormous dog he’s brought to stay in the base with them.


warnings: panic attacks. also, although this story takes a humorous/sarcastic tone, it actually is about someone being put into a situation where they’re forced to be around something that makes them genuinely scared/anxious


The Golden Boy of the Fake AH Crew was meant to be untouchable. Gavin Free had painstakingly constructed his image so; the reckless, headlong fool who was dangerous because he feared nothing. His madcap schemes had the highest risk factor of any of the crew and frequently involved jumping from planes, narrowly timed explosions and the most heavily armed targets in Achievement City. Nothing fazed him. Nothing frightened him.

Except, of course, his three most guarded fears. The three secret little weaknesses, the only things in the world that had him shrinking back, afraid.

Wet bread. Ryan “The Vagabond” Haywood. And, most of all - dogs.

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