17 (they/them), spanish/german/english, I write mostly gn!reader~ If you like, reblog. That's how you truly show your love to my work. Thank you :) [REQUESTS ARE CLOSED]
⭑ when characters are bad at lying. like, the instant rambling, the “uhhh yeah totally” energy, and everyone around them already knows they’re full of it. cracks me up every time.
⭑ when someone’s handwriting shows up. messy notes, doodles in the margins, grocery lists, whatever. feels so real, like you’re peeking into their life.
⭑ characters laughing at their own dumb jokes. i don’t care if no one else finds it funny, i will absolutely melt if they can’t finish their sentence because they’re giggling.
⭑ tiny hobbies that don’t matter to the plot. like “sorry i’m late, i was baking bread” and then we never hear about it again. but i’m obsessed because now i know they exist.
⭑ casual “i love yous” that aren’t romantic. best friends saying it, siblings saying it, someone tossing it out like it’s just… normal. (because it should be.)
⭑ the awkward silences that feel painful. not just “they sat in silence,” but the kind where suddenly the sound of someone stirring their tea is way too loud.
⭑ when food gets described in a stupidly specific way. like “her toast was burnt, as always” or “he added three sugars to his coffee even though he swore he was cutting back.” love it.
⭑ when two characters remember the same event completely differently. instant drama, instant tension. i eat it up.
⭑ dumb little artifacts in the story, maps, scribbles, a fake flyer someone crumpled up. i don’t even care if it matters to the plot, i just think it’s neat.
So, this was our first idea for pride month, but the concept got kind of weird and obscure. We ended up finishing it regardless, because we contend that it is a vibe, your honor. I figure y'all won't complain.
The working title of this piece was "Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh (Ha Ha Ha)", if you know you know and if you don't, well then you can't judge me for my taste in musicals, can you?
Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🔮 HECATE: Goddess of Magic, the Mist, Crossroads, Necromancy, the night and moon🌙
Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version!As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]
Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.
Out of the ‘minor’ gods, a child of Hecate is powerful and just as dangerous as a child of the major gods. As powerful as a child of Ares, Athena, and Apollo, but closer to a child of the Big Three.
When you get claimed, a rolling mist rolls in and you feel power sparkling at your fingertips. You always have felt the magical power within you but with this claim, it courses through your veins. The spell you cast at your claim is a tell-tale to your half-siblings what kind of magic wielder you are. One time, there was a child of Hecate who summoned the dead beneath their feet and everyone had a meltdown thinking it was another child of Hades until Chiron pointed out the claim symbol belonged to Hecate, and Necromancy is within her domain. Which can be utterly terrifying or cool.
Just don’t actually mess with Death itself and stay in your lane, unless you want either Hades or Thanatos having a word with you; either or both. Nico di Angelo becomes a common sight around the Hecate cabin as he acts as a sort of liaison for his father’s domain.
Hecate’s domain is very broad and large, and you guys have a lot to figure out. Aside from magic, every child of Hecate has a mixed bag of what powers they inherited from Hecate’s domain. Some have others that others don’t. You have shared headaches with the children of Hermes, who are in a similar boat.
As cheesy as it might sound, your power is stronger at night and when the moon is out. Of course a full moon is when you’re at peak strength, but what people don’t know is that your powers can be at peak strength depending on the phases of the moon.
This is determined by finding out what phase of the moon the day you were born on, and the phases leading up to that face you feel stronger but the phases afterwards feel less intense for you. If you were born on a full (and/or old) moon, well, more power to you.
Literally.
While not all common, there’s a high percentage of children of Hecate being born in the evenings and night.
“With great power there must also come great responsibility” - Spiderman, Stan Lee.
These words are similar to the Sword of Damocles, that Mr. D and Chiron tells you and the Hecate cabin that power cannot simply be enjoyed for its privileges alone, but necessarily makes its holders morally responsible for what they choose to do and what they fail to do with it.
As a child of Hecate, with magic at your disposal, you have to work and study hard to control the magic and command it to your will, however it is a heavy burden to bear and magic can be not only bring miracles, but can take on a form of its own if their wielder isn’t convicted enough.
Along with magic, the mist is your next inherent power. You help maintain the mist between the world of the gods and the mortal realm; maintaining the balance. The power of the mist comes naturally to you and you can use it to create illusions or manipulate the veil over mortal eyes.
However, be careful of it because if you mess with the mist too much, you might pull the mist’s veil over a mortal’s eyes too powerfully and affect their mind, distorting it; it’s cautioned to only manipulate the mist that is still tethered to reality. Worse, you also might get lost in it yourself; or worse find yourself between the borders between the living and the dead. Limbo if you will.
Hecate may seem a bit cold and solitary, but she does care for you. Especially after the 2nd Titan War, where many of your unclaimed (read: unrecognized by the camp) half siblings had perished during the war. You might get the occasional words of advice with magic, magical items, or what your siblings have collectively understood as vague magic teaching moments.
You definitely feel her guiding hand when you command more magic that threatens to lash out at you, and you feel her hands guide you to mould the magic in a way you want like a potter’s hand. At least one thing is for sure, Hecate loves all her children equally…even including Lamia and Circe who are pretty hostile to you guys.
On that note, you have definitely performed a magic spell you’ve seen on TV, Book, Movie, or Game, and proceeded to tear it apart on how it should not have worked and how it should work before creating either an entirely new spell or an even better one. At the very least, you have a laugh and lead you into discovering and creating new spells.
You can use magic with your hands, but you could also use a wand or staff, or what have you. With wands though, it has never been easier walking around among mortals and spell-casting magic, and playing it off from certain franchises or being a very dedicated DnD player. The latter is very true and you have no shortage of LARPers.
You know the roles like “The Fairy Godmother”, “The Wicked Witch”, “The Wizard”, and etc? Oh yeah. Every child of Hecate starts to come into one of these roles and leans into it completely. What is yours?
You and your siblings have an awkward relationship with Lamia, who was a former daughter of Hecate, who became a monster, and is the reason why all monsters can find half-bloods. Sure it was out of spite at Hera for killing all of Lamia’s children, but like….really?
You’re not entirely sure if you guys are safe from Lamia’s curse but on the other hand, given the amount of monsters you’ve encountered and the latest news from one of your half-siblings, Alabaster who was hunted down by Lamia from Gaea, it’s really up in the air. There’s a long research by all the Hecate cabin on how to break this curse or at least mitigate it.
When you get claimed, you feel the veins in your body growing both hot and cold, with power sparking wildly from your fingertips. The small well of bubbling power that had always been in you suddenly burst open and was overflowing, like the seal on it had been ripped off. Wind was kicking around you with the ground trembling and cracking under your power. You could see the mist rolling in and twisting around you with the wind, cutting you off from the outside world.
With what you could see outside it was utter chaos. People were running around doing damage control with a few brave, offensive demigods taking the front as they knocked away any flying debris and were keeping your magic from breaching the red zone as they batten down the hatches.
You weren’t sure what to do with this power but you couldn’t just turn the tap off either, you had to release it somehow. But just shooting raw magical power wasn’t desirable since the magic could take on the form of the cognitive power of those around you, whatever that was.
You tried to remember a spell you were familiar with. Something that was familiar to you that was almost as easy as breathing. You remembered it but the power of the magic within you was too much. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, the extension part of you had to move how you want like you were discovering growth pains, your limbs feeling almost feeling foreign to you. You tried to squeeze the magic into form but it pushed back between the gaps of your fingers like you took too much clay.
You started to breathe heavily as sweat clung and soaked your being, the strain becoming unbearable. Then you heard yelling as you felt something open beside you. Then you felt someone press up against you, hands grabbing yours that was also flowing with magic.
You gasped and looked at the person, seeing a girl with dark hair and with glowing green eyes.
“What-” you tried to say to say how and why she was here and that she shouldn’t be, but then before you could see anything more, she gripped your hands harder and you felt her magic flowing into yours, as if smoothing the gaps, helping you grasp your raging power.
“Do you know a spell?!” she yelled over the raging, howling wind.
You stammered to reply but nodded instead as she nodded back. “Alright! Use that spell! I’ll help you enforce it!”
You were confused but you could feel the magic about to explode soon so you pushed everything aside and focused on what was at hand. You remembered that spell from earlier, taking deep shaky breaths as you tried to manipulate the magic into a form. You could feel it oozing from the gaps of your fingers again but with the girl’s help, she smoothed it and followed your hands, shaping it with you.
You took form and you threw it in the air as the energy took on a form, taking the wind and mist with it. All tension in your body left you and disappeared with the spell , making you collapse immediately. You were out of breath and out of focus so you weren’t really paying attention to what was happening. All you heard was a boom, sprinkles, oohs and ahhs with gasps and peals of laughter.
From your starfished position on the ground, you heard feet crunching on the ground beside you and you peaked to see see the girl from earlier, hands on her hips with an exasperated smile on her face with a thin sheen of sweat; even she looked a bit winded.
“So that’s what kind of magic wielder you are” she commented, crouching beside you.
“What?” you tiredly said, confused.
She gestured to the air, “This kind of situation isn’t unusual for children of Hecate, even if yours is a little bit on the extreme side. Every child of Hecate that gets claimed has a spell that they have to unleash and we figured out the first spell they instinctively use is a good indicator what kind of magic wielder and person they are.”
“Oh” you uttered dumbly as you took in the open sky above you. The adrenaline was just dying down and your mind caught up. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you sat up and looked at the girl. “Wait, how do you know this?”
The girl grinned and stood up, holding her hand out to you as you clasped it. “My name is Lou Ellen Blackstone, daughter, head coven, and cabin leader of the Hecate cabin” she introduced herself as she helped you up.
“Oh…wait, does that mean-” you asked as Lou Ellen nodded.
“Yup, you just got claimed by Hecate which makes us half-siblings” she said as she patted your shoulder and helped you steady yourself as you headed towards the Apollo kids, “Let’s get you checked up just in case. Suddenly being able to have that much access to your magic takes a whole lot of you.”
“So this isn’t new?” you asked as a child of Apollo checked you over.
“Nah. While some children of Hecate can access their magic before they get claimed, when Hecate claims you, it suddenly feels like the cap on our magic is removed. Don’t worry too much about it, with some practice and integrity, you’ll get a hold of your magic soon enough. In the meantime, you have the entire Hecate cabin to help you.”
You smiled at the thought as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep due to the exhaustion.
“Hecate, whom Zeus son of Kronos honored above all others, granting her magnificent privileges: a share of both the earth and of the undraining sea. From the starry heaven too she has a portion.” (Hesiod - Theogony)
Hekate - Goddess of Witchcraft and Keeper of Keys
Talon Abraxas
Hecate the goddess of Greek mythology has been primarily remembered for her associations with magic and witchcraft. Throughout history however, her sphere of influence also included the moon, night, crossroads, boundaries, ghosts and necromancy. Although Hecate was once considered to be a powerful Greek goddess of witchcraft, Hecate was not a major deity when compared, for instance, to the Twelve Olympians.
There are therefore few myths which revolve around this Greek goddess of magic. Nevertheless, the goddess Hecate plays a particularly important role in the Greek myth which relates the abduction of Persephone. It is also from this myth that the quintessential representation of Hecate, as a goddess holding a flaming torch in each hand, is derived.
The Powers of Hecate, the Greek Goddess of Witchcraft
It is generally believed that the goddess Hecate was the daughter of Perses and Asteria, both of whom were from the second generation of Titans. Nevertheless, some have claimed that she was the daughter of Zeus and either Hera or Pheraea. Yet others have stated that she was a daughter either of Leto or of Tartarus.
In any case, it is widely accepted that Hecate the goddess was not originally a member of the Greek pantheon. In fact, her cult is said to have originated in ancient Thrace, or perhaps in Caria, Anatolia. The original worshippers of Hecate believed that the goddess had power over heaven, earth, and the seas, thus making her an incredibly powerful goddess.
Hecate, whose name came from the Greek word hekatos meaning “worker from afar,” had the power not only to bestow upon those she favored wealth, good fortune, and wisdom, but also to withhold these gifts from those she perceived as unworthy. She was honored by all the gods, including Zeus. As she sided with the Olympians during the Titanomachy, she was the only member of the old regime who retained her powers following the defeat of the Titans.
Within ancient Greek religion Hecate had many different roles, as goddess not just of witchcraft, but also of magic, spells, the night, ghosts, light, necromancy, and even the moon. She was also seen as a goddess of oikos, meaning the household and family, and doorways. Some have even connected her to Artemis, who was portrayed in a similar style, with boots, torches and dogs.
Due to her extensive powers, Hecate has been confused and identified with several other deities throughout history. For instance, as a goddess of nature, she was identified with Demeter, whilst as a moon goddess, she has been identified with Persephone.
"I am she that is the natural mother of all things, mistress and governess of all the elements, the initial progeny of worlds, chief of powers divine, Queen of heaven, the principal of the Gods celestial, the light of the goddesses: at my will the planets of the air, the wholesome winds of the Seas, and the silences of hell be disposed; my name, my divinity is adored throughout all the world in divers manners, in variable customs and in many names, [...] Some call me Juno, others Bellona of the Battles, and still others Hecate. Principally the Ethiopians which dwell in the Orient, and the Egyptians which are excellent in all kind of ancient doctrine, and by their proper ceremonies accustomed to worship me, do call me Queen Isis." (Lucius Apuleius in The Golden Ass)
Who is Hecate within Greek Mythology?
Unfortunately, there are not many Greek myths about the goddess Hecate. She was first mentioned within Hesiod’s 8th century Theogony. Since there was little mention of her before Theogony, some academics have argued that the ancient Greek poet was from a town where Hecate had a substantial following and that his writing helped to promote her cult.
The Greek goddess Hecate is also mentioned in the myth of Persephone’s abduction by Hades. In fact, she plays an important role in this tale. Hecate is mentioned in Homer’s version of the myth, which is known as the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, her most famous literary manifestation which was written in 600 BC.
According to the poet Homer, Hecate was the only deity, apart from the sun god Helios, who witnessed the abduction of Persephone. Therefore, when Demeter, the goddess of agriculture and Persephone’s mother, began the search for her daughter, Hecate accompanied her with a flaming torch in each hand. After Persephone was found, Hecate became her companion and attendant. During the time of the Greek tragedians, the notion that Hecate was a chthonic, or underworld, deity due to her association with Persephone became common.
Hecate is also included in Greek mythology related to the Gigantomachy. Here legend had it that she fought alongside the Olympians and killed Clytius the giant using her famed torches. This story was so much entrenched within collective consciousness that the goddess Hecate is depicted fighting against Clytius alongside Artemis on the Pergamon Altar, within the Gigantomachy frieze.
In another legend, Hecate was associated with a black dog said to have once been the Trojan queen Hecuba. The wife of the Trojan king Priam at the time of the Trojan War, she ended up going mad and leaping into the sea when she was taken as a slave. The story claims that the goddess Hecate took pity on her and tuned her into a dog who then became her companion.
According to Greek mythology, Hecate was a goddess primarily associated with magic and witchcraft. Her sphere of influence also included the
Characters mentioned: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Peter Maximoff
Used Pronouns: (she/her)
Warnings: none
Request: yes
Part: 1/3
A/N: I made an exception and did a fem!reader one since it was requested like that. I will eventually upload a gn!reader version
P.S.: I decided to split the request into 3 because I wanted to post something since it’s taking longer than promised :’)
Summary: Kurt has a crush on one of the best fighters in the institute, but doesn’t know how to approach the situation. Thank goodness that Peter and his friends are there to support him.
A lil note for the people who wanted to be tagged for the next parts:
As you can see, I haven't posted in a LOOONG time due to an intensive academic career and bla bla bla. I am near the finish line in that aspect, and honestly, I am hoping that after that I can resparkle the joy I used to have to write.
Maybe someday I'll finish this one, maybe I won't. (If one of you wants to continue writing it feel free to tag me or send your version of it to me :D )
Thank you for understanding!
(also, by leaving notes on the pieces I've wrote, you motivate me to try doing this again, so thank you everyone who left a lil comment and reblogged, love you guys!!)
Kevin Khatchadourian x Reader. You aren't quite normal, and Kevin can tell. 900 words.
Warnings: None so far.
Reader gender: Neutral.
🦇 Please feel free to submit requests! 🦇
Notes: This will end up being a series if people want it to be! I do plan on writing more for it and if it doesn't really gain traction I might pause, but for now, you can expect at least 2-3 more updates for this. I've also got some more romance-y imagines/HCs in the works for Kevin, so stay tuned.
In this world, there are more people like Kevin than we like to realize.
You hadn’t met Kevin yet, but you knew this fact—that people pretended the “oddballs,” the “weirdos” didn’t exist—like the back of your hand.
As a kid, people always questioned you. You didn’t play like other kids, didn’t flinch like they did when someone jumped out at them, didn’t cry about the monster under the bed and demand to sleep in your parents’ room.
It’s not like you were ripping eyes out of squirrels or anything, but everyone always thought something was up with you.
And while you didn’t quite care what constituted “normal” behavior, it was easier to pretend—less questions, less hushed speculations about you in the halls, and less overbearing concern from the grown-ups if you just acted like a normal student.
Still, nobody’s perfect.
And it’s no wonder that when Kevin saw a flicker of himself in you, he was completely devoted to unraveling you—dissecting you—to find out just what was so different about you.
***
Junior year of high school rolls around, and your schedule is packed. Honors and AP courses wash down your schedule page like a tide, and you come to realize that maybe you should pay a little attention this year. That, however, didn’t stop you from assuming your usual position in each class—second row to the back, one over from the wall.
Students filtered in, jostling bags around the haphazardly built desks as everyone scrambled to sit in at least near proximity to any friends who shared the same class. While the room was abuzz now, you knew that AP history wouldn’t facilitate such energy after a few weeks. No one in their right mind is pumped for history class at 8AM.
You sighed, taking out a folder and a few pens, as the desks around you filled. To your right, a girl you recognized as a member of the cheer team. The row behind you filled with kids you knew planned to talk or sleep through every instance of history class, and then the seat to your right filled.
Kevin.
You’d never met him, but it wasn’t hard to see the name on his schedule placed neatly in the corner of his desk. You glanced discreetly at him as he settled in, then trained your eyes back to the front of the room. Within minutes, the teacher was droning on—the syllabus, the final, homework and late policies. Things that were already written down but, for some reason, needed to be verbalized anyway.
You watched as classmates either scribbled in the margins of their syllabus, ripped staples out of it absentmindedly, or stared blankly at the front as the teacher spoke. You could already tell which kids were going to burn out halfway through the semester, which ones thought their AP history grade would make or break college, and which ones simply didn’t not give a damn about who won what war and where and when.
As your eyes flickered from the back of one classmate’s head to the next, you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s eyes were facing the front—everyone except his.
Kevin’s.
You glanced sideways at him and your eyes met, him studying you as you studied the class, neither of you focusing on what nonsense note-taking strategy the teacher swore would be a life-saver in his class this semester.
And Kevin was, sure enough, fascinated. Anyone else would’ve looked away shyly, embarrassed to be caught staring at someone. You, however, just locked eyes and looked at him with as much interest as he looked at you—which wasn’t much outwardly, but inwardly, you were both wondering the same thing.
Why is this person looking at me, or, more importantly, what does this mean about this person?
After about a minute, you did break eye contact. Not because you cared about making eye contact with some random classmate, but because you didn’t want the teacher to start up about focusing, paying attention, being a diligent student if he noticed you two locking eyes.
The full class period passed without you two acknowledging the others’ existence again, and when the bell rang, students filtered out. You packed your bag orderly, with each folder and notebook having a place, and slung it onto your shoulder. Heading to the door, you noticed something.
He was watching you again.
Not in a creepy, “I’m about to come after you” way, but in the casual way you watch people passing by while waiting to meet up with a friend. Kevin leaned against the wall as classmates walked out the door beside him, and you approached as well.
You stopped walking just in front of him, eye to eye. You tilt your head slightly and watch him—not looking at him, but watching him. His eyes flickered between yours, your hair, the way your bag sat on your shoulder, even how you stood as you watched him. He wasn’t staring, but taking you in, and you could only begin to piece together whatever story he was brewing in his mind about you.
It lasted for about 20 seconds, before other students needed to exit and you stepped outside of the room to avoid blocking traffic—no need to make enemies for being slow. Without turning, you kept heading to your next class, but you wondered what would await tomorrow morning when you and Kevin saw each other again.
after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)
words - 1.1k
a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!
—
Chishiya is alive.
He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.
Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.
Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.
Even you.
You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?
Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.
A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.
Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.
So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.
“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.
“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”
The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.
A challenge indeed.
Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.
And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)
“You're following me.”
Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.
“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.
You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.
“Maybe.” you finally said.
Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.
You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.
“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”
It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.
You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.”
“Not to my knowledge.”
You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–
“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.
You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”
Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.
He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.
can't say enough positive things about the humble square bracket in a writing draft. [place name] [adjective] [description of x] you have saved me from staring at a poorly crafted sentence for hours more times than you could ever know,
The font I'm using doesnt allow brackets, so I simply write those in caps. You don't know how amazing it is to encounter an ADJECTIVE or a DESCRIBE WINDOW in the middle of a beautiful , aesthetic narration. Oh yeah, and the sudden ??? in bold and highlighted in a neon yellow cause writing at 2 A.M. is like writing after taking psychedelics
You sit on the porch of your small, rural home, staring out at the vast landscape that had become your sanctuary. The distant sound of wind rustling through the fields is the only noise breaking the silence, and for the first time in years, you're at peace—well, as much as you could be. This quiet, simple life is a far cry from the chaos that once consumed your days. A chaos that once had a name.
Bang Chan.
His face flashes in your mind, uninvited and unwanted. Even after all these years, the memories cling to you like scars. Your fingers instinctively trace the faint lines of your wedding ring that no longer exists on your hand. It’s been years since the divorce. Years since everything fell apart, since your families tore you both apart.
And yet, here you are, still trying to pick up the pieces.
---
Weeks pass uneventfully, the same routine grounding you, until one day, your peace is shattered by the arrival of a stranger. At first glance, he's just another person, passing through the province, but something about him catches your attention. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a kind of quiet warmth in his eyes that draws you in.
“Excuse me,” he calls out, his voice gentle but unfamiliar. “I’m looking for the nearest convenience store... I seem to have gotten a little lost.”
You stand up, dusting off your hands, and offer a polite smile. “The store is a couple miles down the road. I can show you the way if you’d like.”
He grins, and for a brief moment, something about his smile sends an odd flicker of recognition through your chest. But you shake it off, dismissing it as nothing more than a fleeting thought. He introduces himself as Chris, and from that moment on, your life starts to shift.
Chris becomes a regular presence in your days. You bump into him in town, exchange pleasantries, and before long, he’s helping you with odd jobs around the house. He’s easy to talk to, and for the first time in a long while, you begin to feel something like hope stirring inside of you again.
He’s different—safe.
Or at least, that’s what you think.
---
One evening, as you’re both sitting on your porch, the sun setting behind the mountains, you find yourself opening up to him in a way you haven’t with anyone else in years.
“Why the province?” he asks, his voice soft. “Why here, so far away from everything?”
You hesitate, your chest tightening. You’ve never talked about it, not since you left. But something in Chris’s eyes—makes you want to say it.
“I needed to get away,” you admit, staring out into the distance. “There was someone... someone I loved, but it didn’t work out. Family issues, you know?” You laugh bitterly. “I thought it was for the best, but—” You stop, realizing you’re saying too much.
Chris is silent for a long moment, and when he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Do you still love him?”
You blink, caught off guard by the question. “I... I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”
But Chris doesn’t reply. Instead, he looks away, his jaw clenched tightly as if he's holding back something. And then, before you can question him further, he stands up abruptly.
“I should go.”
---
It’s only later that night, as you lie in bed, replaying the conversation in your mind, that it hits you.
The voice. The smile. The way he always seemed to know what to say, how to comfort you without ever asking too much. It all clicks into place, and your heart drops into your stomach.
It’s him.
Chris... Chan.
Bang Chan, your ex-husband, the one person you swore you would never let back into your life. He’s been right in front of you this whole time, lying to you, pretending to be someone else.
You feel sick.
---
The next day, you don’t bother going into town. You don’t bother doing anything at all, really. The hurt is overwhelming, suffocating. You trusted him. After everything, you let him back in, and he couldn’t even tell you the truth.
There’s a knock at your door, and you know it’s him. You can feel it in your bones.
“Go away,” you call out, your voice breaking. “I don’t want to see you.”
“Please,” Chan—no, Chris—says from the other side. “Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain! You lied to me! You pretended to be someone else! I—” Your voice falters, and tears blur your vision. “I never want to see you again.”
There’s silence, and for a brief moment, you think he’s left. But then, you hear his voice again, softer this time, broken.
“I never wanted to hurt you. I thought if I came back as myself, you’d push me away before I even had a chance. And I—I wanted another chance.”
You stay quiet, too hurt to respond.
“I know I messed up. I know I should’ve told you from the start, but I just... I didn’t want to lose you again. I’ve spent every day since our divorce thinking about you, about us. And I—I want to make it right. No more families, no more conflict. Just us. I want us to have a family, our own family.”
Your heart aches at his words. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to let him in again. But the hurt is too fresh, too raw.
“I can’t,” you whisper, shaking your head, even though he can’t see you. “I can’t go through that again.”
There’s a long pause, and when Chan speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. “I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes, I’ll wait.”
And with that, you hear his footsteps retreating, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
---
Days pass, and the weight of everything hangs heavy in the air. You try to go back to your routine, but it’s impossible. Chan’s words echo in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake them.
“I’ll wait for you.”
Eventually, you find yourself walking down the familiar path to his hotel your heart pounding in your chest. You don’t know what you’re going to say, but you need to see him. You need to know if you can forgive him, if there’s any part of you that’s still willing to try.
When you finally reach his door, you hesitate for a moment before knocking.
It swings open almost immediately, and there he is—Chan, standing in front of you, his expression a mixture of hope and fear.
“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so angry, and I don’t know if I can ever fully trust you again, but... I don’t want to lose you either.”
His eyes soften, and he steps forward, closing the distance between you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again,” he says, his voice steady. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”
You look up at him, your heart pounding, and for the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope.
That moment when you are writing a novella for a school project, end up writing half a novel (way longer than a novella, basically), and now you have to erase a lot of plot points and rewrite everything again so it makes sense... It's not a big deal, right? ... *screams histerically in spanish*
- Group of kids adopted into orphanage/church where primarly nuns work
- They behave well but are often mischievous like any other kid would be: playing small pranks on others, trying to steal cookies from the kitchen, running around... They would compensate by being helpful, doing their chores properly and on time, gifting flowers to the nuns...
CHARACTERS:
Oldest boy: Dio Magnum, son of deceased Lord of the village whose wife had also died because of illness. Dio was the only one to survive. The empty position of the Lord would be taken care of by a good friend of his father until Dio was 18. (street-smart, quick-witted, positive personality, charming, rebelious, rightous, follows own morals, eloquent) => Illness brought in a petrisglas and added to the food by Nurse Nun during one of her visits
Oldest Girl: Agnes Lyon Daughter of a botanist family. Mother sold flowers and herbs, father researched plants often helped by wife. Mother died by poison, father too. Agnes was poisoned too, but she survived because parents prioritised her safety by giving her to the doctor before themselves. (righteous, disciplined, fast working, determined, strong personality, generous, confident) => Poisoned with botanist's own mixtures as Nurse Nun had been tasked to
Slightly younger boy: Nathaniel Fletcher Son of the doctor. His wife died when Nathaniel was born and father some time after Agnes had been saved by Mr. Fletcher. He was murdered by bandits while returning from the city by carriage. (book-smart, calm, organised, plan-oriented, focused, curious, creative) => Kidnapped and then killed as tasked by Nurse Nun (had a task herself)
Youngest girl: Nicole Reisenbach child of a baker family. Parents disappeared under strange conditions. There were signs of struggle at home but it happened in the middle of the night and Nicole was never awoken by any kind of noise. (quick, sportive, energetic, social butterfly, curious and kind) => Witnessed Nurse Nun and became possible future threats so she eliminated them
Nurse Nun: In the orphanage there sometimes appears a nun with baby turkis blue clothing and a a white apron and a somewhat scary face. She brings people who need time off in seclution to heal physical and emotional wounds as ordered by the doctor in the city. Her hometown is the part of the city closest to the orphanage (like the orphan children mentioned) She does NOT like the new children. She KNOWS why they are there. SHE was the one who put them there. And she will make sure they DISSAPPEAR.
Others: Stable boy, Kitchen boy, kitchen staff, Head Nun
They all got to the nun's convent at the same time. Some of the four were taken care of for family members or kind neighbours until they were ready to be allocated in the orphanage. A few other children had already made themselves at home there. (It's duty of the nun's convent/church to allocate whoever is in need of a home)
Since they all lost their parents in a short period of time from each other, they were called the saints. The nuns tried to cheer them up by saying that god lets us suffer losses and pain to become stronger and worthy of a seat in heaven. And at that, their parents were watching over them like guardian angels, and when the time was right, they would meet them up there and live an immortal life in heaven.
The children did not believe them. They knew their parents were dead, but they didn't think there was a holy reason for it.
The children knew from each other either by meeting before or after their parents' deaths and still under the protection of their respective grown-ups. They became friends before joining the orphanage.
Nurse Nun is the follower of a political party who wanted the lord's family gone (she failed since the child survived), and since the botanits family wouldn't let go of the case to avenge his friend, she was tasked to take care of them. The doctor got killed also for being part of the lord's political group and closest friends. And the baker for being a possible witness (only family who didnt have direct or personal contact with lord)
When they get to orphanage, Nurse Nun tries to kill them in sneaky ways but fails because of the other nuns who are over-protective toward these kids or because of the wits of the children. Or her own idiocy fueled by desesperation. At some point, she uses plain force. She tasks some workers working on a construction site inside the orphanage who in reality are her allies to sedate them in their sleep and in the early morning to bring them to the "doctor" as an emergency. They put the kids inside the doctor carriage and she takes off with them before Nicole can do anything about it. (She had woken up early to help bake bread with the kitchen staff) Nicole runs behind the carriage screaming, but she is too slow. While the carriage gets further away in the direction of the city, one of the nice workers Nicole befriended believed her and told her to hop on with him on a horse to go after them. Two other workers joined them (besties). They lose sight of her but track her down through logic. (If she wanted to kill the kids, they would go here or there...) [at this point, they've made all the connections about their parents' deaths]. When they arrive at the spot, the children are already dead. Nicole has a meltdown, and the workers are horrified because the corpses are desfigurated.
After the funeral Nicole stops speaking completely unless its with the people she really trusts [Kitchen staff who makes bread with her and cheerfully talk about their childhoods, their beautiful hometowns, escapades with lovers and so on; the one worker (stable boy) who helped her chase the nurse nun; and the Head Nurse who had been in charge of her friends and who cried several nights in a row after their deaths]
For years, (she was nine and now 16) she silently tried to investigate the deaths and track every single one responsible for it down. She would join the newest political party who took the power now that the original heir to the position of lord had died for gatherings with other important people (honorable position since one of the saints), she would forge contacts with as many people as possible no matter where they stood in the social hierarchy, she would befriend sneaky thieves, wise old people, curious and observant little children, even brute ex-convicts. Since her friends and role models died she became quieter and calmer but she still trained secretly with the stable boy to be able to defend herself. She learned table manners and how to act like a proper lady.
After those six years she executes her carefully crafted plan. And all the friends she had made along the way helped her come so far. She ends up tracking the nurse nun down. Nowadays she lived in a small but cozy appartament, and was about to leave the city with the money she got for accomplishing all her tasks. Nicole enters the house, the housekeeper letting her, knowing something was gonna happen to the nurse nun since Nicole entered the house with a bunch of adults who seemed to mean business. Nicole went upstairs alone and entered the appartament silently. She adds something to the incense burning on the commode.
She talks to the Nurse Nun and she gets scared, turns around. Nicole keeps talking but the nurse nun is missing context and doesnt get that the girl is explaining how she - and her dead friends- had felt throughout the years while trying tk hunter her down. Only after a while the nruse nun recognises her and she becomes overly-confident and mocks her. But then the hallucinations start. The Nurse Nun sees the three of them -Dio, Nathaniel and Agnes- in the dark corners of the room. Their faces start to distort and become grotesque masks of what they looked like after Nurse Nun finished the job on them. Nicole keeps accusing her of the crime, tries to get into her head, scaring her, making it seem as if the hallucinations were real, as if she was seeing real ghosts. And then she lets the hallucinations kill the Nurse Nun. And for a moment Nicole isn't sure if they are really hallucinations. Cause she sees them too. The puddle of blood underneath the corpse of the Nurse Nun grows bigger and the four of them stood around her. Dio was missing his lower jaw and his head was cracked open, Agnes had her eyes carved out and a wide smile cut in her face and Nathaniel was missing his arms and had several cuts across his face. Then their heads turned to Nicole. And they disappeared.
Her carriage arrives at the orphanage and when she gets off her face is still the serious façade she always had on. But when the boy who had been trying to court her for the past few years and had slowly become her friend, a simple boy of poor background who now worked as the kitchen boy, confronted her in the middle of the place what happened, she hesitated. He had seen the slight change in her demeanour. Tense. And she approached him, and then broke down in tears. She screamed in agony, all the pain, the loneliness, the regret, the feelings she had bottled up for year after year. She let them all out. She clinged to the boy as they both fell to the ground, she clinged to him as if her life depended on it. Everyone in the main place stopped what they were doing. At first no one moved, they were all in shock of what was happening. Then the head nurse appeared and demanded an explenation from the workers who had taken her out of the orphanage. But no one said anything
There is a trial where Nicole confesses her investigation, her findings and her murder. She is earnest and open about everything, explains details and makes sure even the less intelligent people understood the nature of her plan and how it worked. She explained how after finding the whereabouts of the Nurse Nun, she studied her routines and relationships with great patience and figured out whose shop she frequented the most. And there she made sure the shop owner gave her a specific incense who Nicole had ordered to be tampered with. She knew she'd use it. Then she would add the substance that "activated" the hallucinations to the incense. It wouldnt affect Nicole since she hadnt been inhalating the incense for a long enough time. And then the Nurse Nun would die by the fear and her attempt of trying to fence of the hallucinations, making her stumble backwards and hit her heat with the chimney. She died on the spot.
Time passes after the trial. We see Nicole standing in the middle of a green field as a breeze blows gently in her face. She is much older now. She looks serious as she remembers what happened seven years back. A known figure approaches her with a picknick basket, the kitchen boy. He notices her being absent-minded and asks whats on her mind. He can guess what it is. After all, it was the anniversary of the tragedy when she was 9. She dismisses it and they walk up the hill where they find a comfortable place beside three graves. They set up the picknick and Nicole greets her friends. They look down on her as she sits besides the kitchen boy. And they smile
Tw: (morbid topics in general) mention of abuse, human experiments, murder, use of acid on person, double suicide (nothing is written in detail)
A group of curious friends (kids of different ages in the range of 13-17) trespass into an old forgotten castle, which is the protagonist of many good-night stories of the nearby village that have been formed over hundres of years. At first, it was more of an attempt to copy the urban explorers on the tv, a fun activity among friends they had done one or two times before. But there is something different about this particular place. They investigate, form teams and split up, come together again to discuss their findings (interesting objects they've found, pictures, and personal belongings of whoever used to live here, signs of previous trespassing, hidden doors and dubious mechanisms) and they learn about the previous owner's story the more they find and the more they investigate. They stayed till late that day and came back the next day (something they hadn't done in previous investigations) driven by the curiosity of this owner's story which is probably one of the most macabre and twisted they've heard of yet. It's about murder and betrayal in the own family: a child of the family got their whole identity stolen and got replaced by someone with an unstable mind and ill intentions but who could play the role of the child almost perfectly so to not get caught; the father of the family being a morally-grey scientist trying to achieve immortal life through human experiments, at some point inviting one of his children to be a subject for experiments and creating a monster out of the child in the process, only to look them up like an animal in the father's secret laboratory underground; a mother with lack of empathy and feelings who did not hesitate to slap the youngest across the face when they disobeyed and throw a vial of acid at the middle child when the child was complaining too much to show them what she had to go through herself and how the child should be grateful for how merciful she was with them, and so on.
And now the most important point for this story:
The friend group, the longer they stayed there (regardless of how much they learned from the family), slowly adopted the same demeanour and personality as one of the family members of that old abandoned castle. For example, the oldest boy would unconsiously take on the role of the father, the eldest girl, the one of the mother, the youngest, and the one of the youngest sibling.
At some point, everything goes down. The eldest boy with the father role is in too deep and going crazy. Then, the eldest daughter, and so on. It feels like they got possessed by single family members. Even the youngest in the friend group had the same fate.
They start acting on their roles and the same attrocities that happened in that castle happened again. Only with different victims.
And there is no happy ending. Maybe one or two of the friends in the friend group managed to escape the castle even after the "father" locked one up for a human experiment. The other failed to save everyone but one. Something like that. And the others all died either by the hands of the abusive "parents", in a fight to death between "siblings" or trying to escape the castle through dangerous ways in a desperate attempt to escape. Although there are two who escaped and somehow repressed their "possession," they still have something of their respective "ghost" inside of them. And in a moment of peace where they let their guard off, their minds drift off again, and they die in each others hand as they accept their "forbidden love" or something idk.
The bodies of the one's who escaped are found weeks later in the middle of the woods, a stolen ritual dagger belonging to the castle laying in between them. When the police investigated the castle to hopefully find the other missing teenagers, they saw the grotesque play that ended in tragedy.
Maybe add an open ending with a small cliffhanger?
