#let me know if there’s anything else i need to tag

[chimerahyperfix]

CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.

-----

The King is here.

You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.

It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.

It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!

You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.

You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.

You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.

So they march to their deaths.

The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.

You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.

No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.

Not anymore.

It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.

There were people here.

The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.

You try not to think about it.

You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.

There are still no tears.

Plan B, then. The King himself.

You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.

He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.

"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.

He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.

"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.

You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.

He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.

"I don't know." It's the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.

"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."

He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.

It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.

It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.

You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."

Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.

Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

You

Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.

So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.

Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.

You

Blink,, and

The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.

How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.

It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.

Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.

You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.

You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.

#isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #claude looping au #isat claude #in craft and cages #cw death #cw gore #cw mentions of drowning #cw graphic violence #--- #ok. wow. this ones really hard to read. #like ok genuinely im worried this might trigger someone so i slammed every tag i could think of on #now im a horror artist. this is my wheelhouse. i do the gore n shit right #please PLEAAAASE be careful. if this one sounds upsetting to u PLEASE sit it out #genuinely very worried abt this one #but also proud as fuck because this is Pretty Good to me and also prib over 1000 words lol #just. dont push y'alls selves for funny au content plz #im very anxious abt making ppl upset haha #i get isat does horror and stuff but this is pretty graphic #please let me know if i need to tag anything else. very antsy here

[starry-night-rose]

Glimmering Soirée

Summary:

Here ye! Here ye! It’s now time for ball season here on Sage’s Island! Students have been gossiping all year about the Glimmering Soirée, a night of revelry between the two schools that both inhabit Sage Island. Each year, one school hosts the other! Treating the guests as royalty. There’s dancing, music, delicious food and...a competition. This competition is to find the Belle of the Ball and to award them with honors such as a crown, scepter, and more! The faculty of both schools vote on the winner of the title. This year, it’s NRC’s turn at hosting, let’s see how well they do

Four Students are chosen as the Princes who are to act as the hosts of the event. They are to be princely, amicable, and welcoming to the guests of the ball. It’s chosen by chance by the Headmaster. The Princes are trained in the art of dance, conversation, and hosting. The Princes chosen this year are Malleus Draconia, Deuce Spade, Azul Ashengrotto, and Kalim Al-Asim. The Princes also partipate in the voting of the Belle of the Ball as well

But where do yuu fit into this? Our lovely Ramshackle prefect and their trusty feline-looking sidekick have a special position, given to them by our kind Headmaster! Yuu are here to help the princes out! And who knows, maybe your hard work won’t go unnoticed.

Rules

Everyone is free to participate! From Ocs to Yuusonas to even canon characters, anyone can participate!

Content Rules: Keep it PG-13!

How to participate in the event: You’re free to write fics, make art, make character sprites, and just about anything else you can put your mind to!

Tag the posts with a #glimmering soirée and make sure to credit/@ me in the post!

This event has no deadline at the moment which means you have all the time you need to get to work! However, this might change later on!

Outfits

At the Glimmering Soirée, a dress code is in order! It’s an elegant event so fine clothing is a must! Below are some ideas of what you’d find guests wear at the ball!

You can wear anything you wish but must be in the colors

Blue

White

Silver

Black

Gold

Entries

Ellis | Victoria | Gwen | Stella (coming soon...)

Malleus | Deuce | Azul | Kalim (coming soon...)

Character Cards (coming soon...)

Fanfiction (coming soon...)

Edits (coming soon...)

Backgrounds

Below is the background that you’re free to use to make your character cards! Note: The Background belongs to Disney while I just did the edits

And now

Enjoy the Ball!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fan event #fan event #twisted wonderland fanevent #ellis clawthorne #gwendolyn schnee #stella vega #victoria le fay #glimmering soirée #first event woah.... #twst fanevent #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst

[kinardscoffee]

Okay galaxy brain headcanon time. So Tommy's name tag in season two said Kincaid not Kinard. Maybe that was his original last name but he changed it when he finally cut contact with his dad - or his last name was something else entirely. He turns 18, says fuck you dad, changes his name from Thomas X to "just Tommy" Kincaid, joins the army and Tommy 2.0s himself, then years later he's like "i wanna be a pilot", im gay, no dad fuck off, new life, new me, new name, new station. Tommy Kinard is Tommy 3.0.

Tommy 4.0 is of course marriage to this hot firefighter named Evan and that means new name once again, but maybe with a hyphen this time.

Heyyy Anon!

First, I just want to say, well fucking done on catching that! I had to do a bit of research on this ask cause I, for one, missed it!

So, here's S2 Tommy in all his selfie glory:

And if we zoom in... that name tag does in fact say, Kincaid:

BUT... I think it's just a costuming error because I went back to watch the "Begin" episodes and everyone calls him "Kinard" and it's the name on his turn-out.

However, I do like the idea of an evolution of Tommy Kinard, so here's my two cents inspired by your two cents!

You can change your name at 16, and I agree he changed his legal name from Thomas to just Tommy. I imagine his father called him Thomas, and I believe that was a sore spot throughout his childhood.

Thomas can't do anything right.

Tommy can sneak out at night.

Thomas was a mistake.

Tommy has friends at school.

So, I believe Tommy joined the military the day after he graduated from high school, which would potentially make him 18. And he never saw his father again after this. A quick Google search let me know that the Army is actually the only branch of the military where you only need a high school diploma to become a pilot. So after completing basic training and the other requirements to become an Army pilot, Tommy could have potential received his pilot's license in roughly 2 years.

I'm not going into time served in the Army, so let's move on...

Thus, Tommy 2.0 is born.

He lands in LA, buys a house, and decides to join the LAFD, where he meets Captian Gerrard and Sal DeLuca. This ultimately shoves him into Tommy 3.0, which is the version of himself that I believe he hates the most.

He's wrestling with feelings he's always had but knows they're "wrong" in certain people's eyes and so I believe his first years at the 118 Tommy has never felt more like his father.

And he hates it. Despises himself even.

So, when Chim shows up, Tommy has this massive wall up, built by self-hatred and sadness. But then, Chim saves his life. And that wall begins to chip away, bit by bit.

We see the wall has almost completely crumbled when Hen arrives but with Captian Gerrard there he's prepared to put up barriers again.

Until Hen gives her speech.

I believe that speech cracked open Tommy 3.5. Maybe not someone who's ready to stand up and preach his truth in front of everyone but definitely someone who knows it's time to help be a part of the solution.

When Bobby shows up, Tommy is sailing nicely into Tommy 4.0. He's happy, he has friends that he can go out to drink with, and for the first time in his life, I think he's starting to feel as if he actually could belong somewhere.

Lou has said that Tommy likes to fly because it's his way to feel free and escape his problems. And I believe that with the happiness Tommy has found at the 118, his displeasure of not feeling true to himself is harder to ignore.

So, he transfers and stops lying to himself. New station, New him right? He gers the freedom of flying and being open about his sexuality.

Tommy 4.0 is officially here.

Then, years later, after a really bad breakup that left him ready to give up on the idea of ever finding love, he finds it in the most adorable ally that helped steal his helicopter, Evan Buckley.

And that's when Tommy Kinard finally finds the place where he belongs.

#im in my feels #THEY #tim minear do the right thing and give Lou a S8 contract #911 abc #bucktommy #911 fandom #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #911 speculation #911 meta #tommy kinard meta?? #anon 🩵

[theworldofotps]

Painting (Drabble)

Pairing: Lord Debling x Reader Word Count: 743 Description: Y/n is struggling with a painting when she recieves some much needed help.

So, I have never written fanfiction for Bridgerton before but after watching the first half of season 3 and meeting Lord Debling I couldn't help myself. I'm also very nervous to post this because it's a bit out of my comfort zone but I hope you enjoy anyway.

Dedicated to: @madhatterbri who encouraged me to write this, helped form the plot and is overall one of the best. I appreciate you so much thank you! (I haven't added my normal tag list since those are usually just for wrestling. If you'd like to be added to a tag list of anything I write besides wrestling let me know!) __________ Y/n let out a soft huff as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, staring at the canvas in front of her. She’d spent the last two hours trying to paint a bird from the book set on a stool in front of her. This was a painting she just didn’t want to mess up on but the more she stared at it the worse it seemed to look.

“Is everything alright m’lady?”

“Yes Ruth, just having a bit of difficulty getting these colors to work and blend the way that I wish them too.”

“Please let me know when you are ready, and I shall draw the bath for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth.”

Watching the maid leave, Y/n turns back towards her painting and examines the book once more. Adjusting the apron she wore over her dress to keep from ruining it, she dipped into her paints again. More time passed and her frustrations only grew as the colors started running and made the bird look like a mess.

Dropping the paintbrush in the pot of water she hung her head in defeat, deciding to just start all over again. Not having heard the door open she nearly jumped, feeling a pair of arms wrapping around her before a chuckle sounded in her ear.

“Sorry to startle you love I thought you heard me enter.”

“That’s alright my lord I just was focusing on something else.”

Alfred glanced around to be sure they were alone before pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I’m trying to paint this bird and all of my colors keep running I’ve spent hours on it but alas to no avail.”

Remaining silently as his eyes drifted over the canvas in front of them, since they had began courting he was trying to take interest in her hobbies. When he found out she had a love for painting much like his mother, it was one he quickly did his best to learn all he could about it.

“Allow me to offer my assistance to you.”

Grabbing her hand gently together they picked up the brush, the sparks of electricity she felt as they moved together dipping into her paint pallet. She could barely concentrate at the feel of him pressed against her back. When the brush touched the canvas, she let out a soft laugh.

“What is it brining you such joy my dear?”

“Your beard tickles my cheek.”

Y/n spoke softly as his own smile grew to match hers the two talking in soft whispers as he helped her fix the once ruined picture.

“What do you think?”

“It looks so much better thank you for your help now we both must sign it.”

She said pointing to the feather quill and pot of ink sat on the desk a few feet away from them, Alfred reached over grabbing the quill. Signing the name Debling then placing the quill in her hand so she could sign her last name.

Placing it back in the ink pot Y/n slowly turned to face him their eyes meeting hers lighting up as his softened.

“Miss. Y/n  I know this may come forth as a bit forward but may I kiss you?”

He asked a slight nervous quiver to his voice if you listened close enough she remained silently causing him to clear in throat. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured into anything. After a moment her smile grew as she leaned closer to him their lips brushing in the softest touch before a knock on the door sent them apart. Composing themselves she turned to see Ruth entering one more.

“Excuse me miss but your mother is looking for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth please tell her, that I will be right there.”

Ruth nodded, leaving them alone again y/n sighing softly she turned back to Alfred who gently touched her cheek.

“I must be going as it is rather late, I shall call upon you tomorrow afternoon would that be alright?”

“Yes, I would enjoy that very much my lord.”

The pair left the room and y/n saw him to the front entrance, his fingers once more touching her cheek in a bid farewell. Watching him leave she sighed her arms wrapping around herself, the thought of his arms around her caused her face to heat up. Turning, she went off in search of her mother.

#lord debling #bridgerton fanfiction #lord debling x reader #bridgerton #lord debling fanfiction

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🍃🍃🍃

so I can find this later)

AITA for how I handle this certain friendship?

my friend (lets call them A), we used to text them all the time, almost every day, we are good friends and we helped each other many ways.

After a few months, A needed space due to handling a few personal things which included severe depression on top, so it was understandable A was slow to reply, so I'd wait until A is free again or until they text me back. So sometimes this can vary from days to weeks.

I tell A every time no rush and they can reply whenever they can, so I don't make them feel bad or anything and I don't mind waiting for them to reply.

Sometimes, if there is something that happened in between I text A again, just to let them know something I thought they'd like to know.

I thought I was doing the right, but then, I sorta just stopped texting A again and again, I thought they needed their own headspace and I didn't want to annoy them. The last time I had texted A was last year, they never never replied so I simply waited, but now the thing is, it's been almost 5 to 6 months now.

Now, I simply didn't text A these months thinking they needed space and seeing they were active on tumblr, I didn't worry too much but I was also inactive dealing with my problems, I went on unexcepted hiatus every so often. But I did check in, to make sure all my friends including A was ok.

A still hadn't responded to me, even though they were active online posting, I chose to be understanding, they probably didn't want to personally talk and just speak in general to everyone at once.

I won't lie, I did feel suddenly distant in these occurrences, especially seeing A was ok with tagging others or responding to others publicly after A was tagged by someone else, I felt as if I was left a little forgotten, but still I tried to be understanding, even if it hurt.

But now suddenly I see they left on a completely unexpected and indefinite hiatus after subtly stating about broken and failed friendships, part of me feels like A is referring to me and now I'm too afraid to reach out to them again, I really don't want to hurt them. I thought I was giving them the time and headspace but now it seems like I made it all go downhill because I let it drag into months.

I almost feel as if they hate me now, because we did promise to tell each other if ever made the other feel anything negatively we would say so, I didn't say I felt distant because I didn't want to add on top of A's already ongoing problems.

so AITA for how I handle this certain friendship?

#aita #am i the asshole

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #series #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #to a tea

[itstheghostofmypast]

Nah Bro!

University Student Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: No, he wasn't an idiot, he knew what he wanted and he always had, the only problem was he wasn't sure if she wanted the same. He was her friend, her biggest supporter, and her shelter on rainy days- but he was NOT her bro.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 7.6k

Est. Read Time: 37 min

Warnings: language, suggestive content, Woo's a perv and she ain't any better.

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

"Wooyoung?" 

His head whipped in her direction, his signature smile gracing his face as he saw her approach her with her usual expressions filled with scepticism. 

"In the flesh" he smiled down at her, the students around then slowly disappearing into nothing, the world halting at the perfect time when the rays of light seeping through the glass windows, reflecting off her lashes and skin, giving off an ethereal glow, the way the wind was just blowing right, her summer dress swaying like nature itself was flirting with her, asking her for a dance, how the birds began to harmonise, in the joy of her being here and-

"Is calling someone girlie pop considered flirting?"

"Ye- what? Who's flirting with you?" all too quickly the world around him shattered, coming back to its usual hustle and bustle, the frat boys a bit too loud and a bit too annoying, the girls passing by distracting her as one of them called her out, asking her to have lunch with them, and just to top it all off, Choi San just happened to pop by tapping his shoulder, to ruing the mood.

"Get lost, Choi."

"What? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"GO."

"FINE."

The two exchanged a look as the taller male caught the way his friend was eying the girl talking to the other girls, giggling about something- no, someone. Bloody Park Seonghwa.

"You should tell her." he nudged Wooyoung who swatted his hand away and whispered back, "And you should f**k off."

With that he marched away, leaving San standing there in the middle of the hallway. The idiot also forgot that when she turned around to look for him, she couldn't find him, but she saw San making her way to him she smiled, "Did Woo leave?"

"Uh- yeah he had a class."

"Really? Did he take a course I'm not in?"

Never had Choi San in his life felt the urge to murder someone, it would be Wooyoung for leaving him alone with her, knowing fully well he couldn't really lie to her, especially when she was looking around for her Woo like a lost puppy.

Clearing his throat the feline-eyed man nodded towards the exit, "I think he went that way, I'm gonna go there too if you wanna tag along..." he trailed off when he noticed she wasn't listening anymore, in fact, she was too busy staring at someone else, a certain literature major, one who had the face structure of a Greek god but the personality of a pleasant old lady, Park Seonghwa- oh. Seonghwa wasn't a bad person, no, he was great, but his reputation of being a flirt was somewhat of a bother- perhaps because he was a senior and his merry band of friends comprised every handsome man in the lot, music major Kim Hongjoong, IT genius Jeong Yunho and the upcoming model, plus business major Kang Yeosang- truthfully, San doesn't blame her for basking in the attention Seonghwa had started giving her, most girls would throw themselves at them- then often politely get rejected (unless of course, you had the unfortunate luck of confessing to Hongjoong, who'd often have his earphones plugged in, ignoring you and walking all over you heart as he walked away), and if Seonghwa had actually put in the effort of talking to her, then there was something about her that had intrigued the shy extroverted man.

"Hmm?" She looked away, ducking her head to hide the blush that had spread across her face when Seonghwa passed by, giving her an acknowledging smile, damn, Wooyoung really did need to step up his game.

"Wanna go look for Wooyoung?"

"Oh! YEAH! LET'S GO SANNIE! HE HAD TEACH ME HOW TO FLIRT!” She yelled, much like the lunatic who was hopelessly falling for her each day, grabbing San's bag as she dragged him out, or trying to, because she really couldn't move him an inch "Let's go-"

With a soft chuckle, he took her bag from her, watching her glare up at him all confused, "It's the other way, come on, little minx."

.

"Ow-" he hissed, his hand going to the back of his head, as he turned to glare at San- "AYE CHOI, YOU WANNA DIE?" He threatened the taller man who was wearing two backpacks, each slung over one shoulder- wait why is he doing that?

"It was me, idiot." He heard from beside him, as he turned to look at her before pouting, "Teach me how to flirt." His pout morphed into a face of disgust, moving a step back from her, crossing his arms over his chest as he scanned her frame, making sure she would become hyper-aware of his gaze and self-conscious, borderline uncomfortable.

"I'll..." San turned his head to spot a small ice cream stall, man, he loved business week, "Get us some ice cream."

Pulling her jacket closer to her she whined, kicking her feet, "D-dont look at me like that." 

"Why?" He asked moving closer, enough for her to take a step back as she looked up at him, his gaze piercing through her, keeping her rooted at the spot when he took one final step closer to her, making sure to maintain eye contact, a rocky little smirk made its way on his handsome face as he invaded more of her personal space, eyes flicking to her lips, the residue of the shiny gloss teasing him, taunting him, tempting him, though the way her lips quirked into a frown had him scoff, and glance back up at her, feeling her palms flatten against his chest. Still, she didn't push him, of course, giving him unintentional mixed signals was her favourite hobby. He pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "You wanna learn how to flirt but can't even look me straight in the eye."

"I-I" her hands gripped onto his shirt, twisting it in her sweaty grip as she felt him let out an airy chuckle, when she continued, "I-this isn't..." Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, causing him to smile, following along, enjoying the -

"MOTHER F*CKER- YOU BI- WHAT THE HELL!?" Stumbling back, he yelled like a madman, pressing his palm against his nose before feeling the blood trickle out, "ARE YOU INSANE? THAT'S WHY YOU'RE ALWAYS GOING TO BE SINGLE!" His shrill causing the student passing by to give them strange looks.

"What...the hell guys...I was gone for 10 minutes?" San mumbled, walking over to them with ice lollies in hand, the sight before him annoying, but not new or unexpected- this was a common occurrence, one he had been forced to see since the first semester of starting his not-so-peaceful university life.

"He was harassing me."

"HARASSING- HARASSING YOU? YOU FREAKY GREMLIN YOU SLAMMED YOUR HEAD ON MY NOSE!? FOR WHAT!?" He snatched the cold packaged good from the quiet man, who gave him a look of concern, "Go to the nurse Woo-"

"SHUT UP CHOI." He hissed, pressing the packaged ice good against his nose as he walked over towards a bench, ignoring the whining menace following him behind, calling him out as she sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around his arm, pulling him closer, clinging onto him she placed her head on his shoulder, "Come on Woo, I'm not gonna do anything bad or careless, I'll keep you well informed."

Letting out a huff he leaned his head onto hers, of course, he was still angry, but his body would often react on his own around her, a fact he discovered back in middle school, the first time he had seen her, the first time he had embarrassed himself in front of her.

The 10-year-old boy, the 'king' of the playground, was busy ordering his loyal servants around in the sandbox when this little critter popped up, marching over to him with watery eyes and a runny nose, her fists clenched by her side as she stomped into the sandbox shoving away his 'royal guards' and pointing at him, "Are you the king?"

"Who wants to know!?" Smirking he adjusted his robes- towels, the guest towels he stole from home- atop his head that his paper crown, an ugly orange colour might she add.

Sniffing she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before looking at him, "I want to ride the swings!" She yelled at him, before moving closer to shove him- mind you, she only did so because her parents had always told her never to back down when she was in the right- and two mean boys not letting her on the swings because their king said so was not right.

Steadying himself he glared at her, eying her up and down, he was a feminish or fashionist or something like that, his mother told him to be one too, so equal rights it is, which is why he shoved her harder watching her land on her butt, laughing in the process as his loyal servants began to laugh too- that his until he saw the dejected look on her face, he had assumed she would fight back like most kids, but she got up, wiped her eyes and slowly walked away with her head hung in shame, something about the little girl all sad in her floral summer dress had him feel all funny in his stomach- or chest? The point is he initially ignored it, too focused on his victory, happy the king remained all-powerful.

What he did not expect was the peasant girl to come to his house with her parents- what a snitch. That night Wooyoung had to apologise to her, not because he took the swings because as his mother quoted while pinching his ear, "A FEMINIST DOESN'T HIT A WOMAN. HE BEFRIENDS HER." Ah, so it was feminist. Though her parents had not come to complain, they had actually moved in as neighbours and wanted to meet their neighbours, his family, but who knew the youngest (for now) child of the Jung household had left a bad impression on the Lee Family's one and only Princess. Since that day his mother had forced him to befriend her, to go over to her house and play, to drop her off to her class- thankfully they were not in the same section, but that's because she was smart and well...he was good-looking. 

Perhaps it was fate that had him slowly understanding her awkward and shy nature, how she was somewhat similar to him when it came to what she wanted, she'd whine and complain but the only difference between the two was that she'd always find a way to get it- want a Lego set? Get good grades and you will- she did. Want to eat ice cream? Eat your veggies, she did, she even ate his.

Wooyoung, nah, he wasn't one to take such big risks, to come out of his comfort zone. In fact, after the arrival of the youngest new addition to the Jung family, Wooyoung wasn't happy, what teenager wants a baby brother? Who does that? The night his brother was born, he wasn't at the hospital like his father or his older brother and the Lee family, including her, no, he had climbed up the rusty pipe she had told him a billion times not to use, plucked open the lock of her window and entered her dark room- yes, her parents knew he would do that, his parents knew too, he was the only one allowed to that, for a king is ever ready to go to his queen, especially at the time of distress. He took a step into her bedroom, taking off his shoes and placing them on the small shoe rack set next to the window for him, and hopped onto her bed, stuffing his face into her pillows, her peach shampoo smothering him with affection, before letting out a strangled cry, which opened the flood gates to a tsunami of everything, he had been bottling up since the news of his mother's pregnancy had surfaced. The way his friends teased him, calling it gross, the way everyone was now busy not paying attention to him, the way he was no longer important. Why were they having another child anyway? Was he not enough? Of course, he wasn't as perfect as his older brother but were they only trying again because they were fed up with him? He was leaving for college soon- were they replacing him?

He really didn't know how long it went on for, but a few too many tears later, his eyes had dried out, but his laboured breathing hadn't ceased, that us until he felt calming fingers sift through his hair, the bed dipping beside him as he heard a gentle, "Woo...I knew I'd find you here- staining my sheets with your snot, you giant baby."

Ah, she never was gentle with her words, perhaps that is what karma was, making him fall for her, probably harder than he had pushed her when they were kids, watching him simmer in her snarky comments and such mixed cues of attention- well perhaps that's what he deserved for being a b*tch all the time- I'd didn't matter, for a king always gives into his queen.

Sighing he tried to move, only to freeze when he realised her entire weight was on him, his eyes meeting San who was frowning at him, though the broad-shouldered man holding a raspberry lolly looked comical, especially when he glared at him like that.

“What?”

“She’s asleep Jung.”

“No way? Really?” He scoffed, gently manoeuvring her to lay her head on his thigh, brushing the hair out of her eyes, before reaching for San’s cap on the wooden table, ignoring the man as he placed it on her eyes, shielding her from the horrid, too bright and ugly sun.

“You’re hopeless.” He huffed before standing up, collecting the trash and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Just…don’t do something you’ll regret, man.”

“What are you? The Magic-Eight ball or something.” He mumbled, before waving him off, “Be gone, now, I’m sure that girl from ‘Philosophy’ is waiting for you at the library to pull out books from the top shelf for her again.” He smirked, watching the way San’s face flushed at the mention of his somewhat secret crush, mumbling some very vulgar words at Wooyoung before stomping away.

.

“Okay, there, all better.”

“Kiss it better.”

She moved back to stare at him, extremely close to smacking him once more but decided not to when he sat there with his eyes closed for her. Rolling her eyes, she leaned closer placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose before quickly hopping off the bed, mumbling about what kind of idiot he was, not catching the way he was smiling like an idiot at her. She was wearing one of his hoodies, he liked that, they were in her dorm room, he liked that, he was surrounded by her, he really liked that- truth be told he had followed her to this university as well, honestly, sometimes he did think of blurting it out to her- but was it worth ruining everything with her, just to satisfy his itty-bitty heart that had begun to beat for nothing but her.

“So, will you help me or not?”

Her question caught her off guard, eying the way she sat down across him, placing a bowl of chips between them, “Woo, will you teach me how to flirt or not?” pushing the bowl towards him as he sighed before shrugging, “Why do you wanna learn anyway-

“Because I like Park Seonghwa!” she whined, “He’s so pretty and sweet and he’s a wonderful senior and-

“If a guy likes you, he likes you for you, not because you learn how to flirt.” He cut her off before picking up a chip and placing (shoving) in her parted mouth, cackling when she choked on it, smacking his hand away as she turned around and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turning to glare at him, “Funny how I’ve been doing that since high school and I have never even gone on a date- I am not even remotely likeable.”

“You don’t need to go on a date to deduce if you’re likeable or not.”

“How can you say that!? Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

For a moment his quick sat between them, staring at the two as she looked at him wide-eyed, scanning his face like a curious, scared kitty, only to be met with an intense stare, his eyes staring- no piercing through her soul as if he were trying to say something without saying it, do something without doing it, feel something without feeling it. Ever so slowly he moved closer to her, watching her breath hitch, fingers gripping her sweatpants as he stopped to look at her before giving her a soft smile, trying to read her, yet his signal was not transmitted for once again their frequencies did not match, causing him to move back and look away, scanning her studio apartment, a piece of him was in this room- no, several little pieces of him were present within this canvas, traces of his soul, the scent of his being; from his spare sneakers to his scarf on the kitchen chair, to the coat hanging off the coat hook on the main door, to his ‘special morning Garfield mug on the dishrack.’

“Woo…” she whispered, causing him to slowly turn back to look at her, a small melancholic smile gracing his features, one she noted as she gulped, though her parched throat made swallowing difficult- no, she was reading this wrong, Wooyoung deserved, Wooyoung wanted far more than her, he always had, he always will.

“Let’s do it.” Smiling he stood up before stretching, ignoring how she was staring up at him as he scratched his head before looking around, “It’s getting late, I promised San I’ll cook tonight.”

“Yo-you don’t have to, I can-”

“Classes start tomorrow, after four, there are two conditions.” He cut her off, walking over to the door as he pulled off his coat, staring at it for a moment before hanging it back on her door- why not let his presence be there till it was time to move out- “First, I will accept your payment in meals, after every lesson you will treat me to a home-cooked meal and secondly, you will do whatever I say, do we have a deal?”

Walking over to him she stood in the hallway, staring up at him in awe, the warm light above him hitting just right, accentuating his features in a way that her heart may as well have hopped onto his palm if she were to stare at him for any longer, so all she could do was nod at his deal, all she could do was stand there when he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze before pressing his forehead against hers, mumbling, “See you tomorrow, my little gremlin.”

.

“God, I- I am not wearing this” she huffed throwing the top back at him as he rolled his eyes, holding it up by the strings, “This, is a summer dress, with spaghetti strings, many girls wear it and I think- Seonghwa would like it.”

Sighing in defeat she took it from him, before walking over to the washroom to change, leaving him sitting on the bed as he looked around her room, lying down as he sighed, arms behind his head as he stared up at the cheap 3D glowing stars on the ceiling, one’s they had put stuck up on the ceiling the on the first night she had moved into her dorm, making the zodiac constellation for him and her, then the two had laid there, side by side, staring up at it until they eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“H-how do I look?”

His eyes snapped open at her voice turning his head to inspect her, only to end up feeling like he was punched in the gut, the air knocked right out of him, slowly sat up as he turned to her, eyes roaming every inch of her frame, he had seen her wearing his clothes so much, that he had forgotten that she indeed was much smaller than him- no- she indeed was a girl.

“W-Woo?”

Clearing his throat, he stood up and smiled at her, “You look like you can flirt.” Giving her a thumbs up he grabbed her hand and walked towards the main door, making sure to grab his wallet and phone, ignoring her babbling, “Now, we see what you do on a date- you gotta experience it girlie, a café date is the best of its kind.”

That was exactly how she had found herself stuck to him as the two walked down the pathway to the local café, the setting sun doing her a favour and not burning against her skin, though the wind only had her feeling conscious, especially when the ends of the tied strings would tickle her shoulders or the hem of her dress would tease her, causing her to grip his arm, pulling him closer for some form of support. Wooyoung on the other hand, no he was having the time of his life, never had he felt something so soft and warm press up against him and he thanked that horrid magazine he had found with dating advice for the choice of dress he had picked for her, the pastel pink mid-thigh dress really did do her wonders, really did make him feel like he was in high school again-

“Woo…I feel like everyone is s-staring.” She mumbled, pressing her face into his arm as he sighed, “Babe, it's not like you’ve never worn a dress before, sure this one is a little more on the bolder side but-” his words came to a halt when his eyes met with a glossy pair, one pleading him to save him from the way the boys around them were eying her down, sizing her up.

.

“Thank you, Woo.” She smiled, pulling his denim jacket close to her frame as she sat on the opposite chair, glad that most of her body was covered again, especially from prying eyes, “I knew I could count on you.”

Taking her out was a bad idea, not only was she gaining a lot of attention but she was making it difficult for him to hold himself back, to keep those three words, not the redundant and overused "I like you" but a feeling he had been covering with layers and layers of sarcasm and petty fights, a feeling his heart could never truly accept, could never truly feel, could ever truly float in, even if it were drowning in it, "Love me too".

The cafe trip was cut short when the very nice waitress was kind enough to point out how cute of a couple they were, and instead of letting her correct the waitress, he cut her off with a small thank you, then looked at her. What did that mean? Was he trying to teach her? Was this part of flirting? She did not understand. 

It irked him how she was clueless, how she wanted him to spell it out for her but he wasn't going to, not when the fear of rejections loomed over him, waiting for the right moment to slice the beating pound of flesh in his chest in half. The walk home had been uncomfortable, she was no longer clinging onto him, and the jacket had provided her enough cover, but he'd be lying if he were to say he didn't like it on her. At least there was part of him she was willing to hold onto, even if it was temporary. The walk home was silent, eerie, quiet and perhaps a bit too loud with the sound of anything but them, that is until he finally stopped at the door of her dorm room, staring at her when she unlocked the door and walked inside, leaving it open for him, only for her to turn around in the small, dimly lit corridor of the entrance to look at him, look up at him all confused and doe eyed, in his garment, covering her frame, her eyes swirling with a form of curiosity that had his fingers twitching, his soul begging to be set free from the confines of his useless flesh, "Woo?"

"Next lesson...is...indoors, I'll text the details." With that he had closed the door but did not leave, instead, he waited outside, waiting for her to lock it, his forehead resting against the mahogany, counting till ten, sighing in relief when he heard the gentle click. This was a bad idea. He was so pathetic he told her he would help her, yet he couldn’t even pull through one day properly, some best friend he was.

.

She lay awake the entire night, tossing at turning in bed as every 10 minutes she would check her phone for his text, but there was none. He had not even responded to her goodnight message, prick. That was exactly why she was late to class, and almost thrown out too but the lecturer had not been too busy trying to actually figure out how to use the projector. She had slipped in, trying to find an empty spot, which she did after a couple of minutes, choosing to sit in the only available seat at the corner of the class, she sighed, taking out her book, only to pause when she heard someone groan next to her, turning to the source of noise she let out a small gasp.

“What the hell happened to you?” she whispered, leaning closer to the hunched-over figure in black, as she yanked back the hood of his hoodie, earning another small whine.

“Stop…yelling.” He mumbled, pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’m not, Woo.” With a sigh she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to figure out what on earth he had done this time. It was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this battered and bruised, it was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this tired, just blatantly showing all his bits that he wasn’t proud of, to her or the world, “Were you drinking last night…I thought you were going to text me the details.”

‘I was drinking to get you off my damn mind’, is what he wanted to say, but when he snapped his head in her direction, he was met by a gaze so endearing, a gaze that held a certain affectionate warmth to it, one that made him wonder if he were ready to let this very being that frustrated him and infatuated him with an unimaginable amount of love slip through his fingers. So, after a moment of thinking, he turned back to the board and slowly nodded, “I…Let’s go after class…next lesson…wake me up at the end?”

“Why were you drinking mid-week anyway?” she asked, though he never answered, instead he slowly pushed her upper body away from the table, only to lean down onto her lap, his head resting on her thighs as he closed his eyes, mumbling an, “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”

What did that even mean? Honestly, he had become very difficult for her to read, sometimes she assumed it was because he had no interest in her, other times she just thought it was not difficult because of the crush she had developed on him- one that was pointless since he never really noticed the hints she’d drop, she knew for him, she’d always be the goody-two-shoes that lived next door. But then again, she was never his type, she was not like any of his exes, in both physical presence and mentally- well, she didn’t want to be like them in terms of mental state- most were more interested in his physical presence than who he was as a person- then he’d come running back to her, and every time he would she’d tell him the same thing, “That’s what you get for someone dating someone who doesn’t like animals.” Though he’d argue with the ‘Yah! Do I look like a dog to you?’, that wasn’t it though- or maybe she was calling him a dog, who was to say? The fact of the matter was, at the end of the day, she would always be his just best friend, and this is why Seonghwa had happened to slip into the picture, she needed to move on, and maybe someone as sweet, smart and smokin’ hot (she should stop spending so much time with Wooyoung) would be good for her.

.

“Wakey, wakey, you successfully slept through an hour-long lecture.” Carding her finger through his hair she frowned when he clenched his eyes shut, why was he being so difficult? Was he trying to avoid her or something else? Was he tired of her being around him all the time? Did he not text her last night because he wanted her to drop it? The whole Seonghwa thing because maybe he knew she was hopeless, if him knowing her for years led to nothing, how would a stranger, a handsome, well-mannered, angel-like stranger like her and-

“Are you constipated?”

“Huh?” Casting her eyes down at him, she met a curious, droopy gaze, it was only then that she realised that she had been absentmindedly caressing his cheek, drawing intricate patterns on his soft skin, though even at the realisation she did not stop- how could she? Perhaps this was the last time she’d ever touch him, ever be this intimate with him. Sighing she shook her head, mumbling, “No…why?”

“Then why are you frowning like that?” he groaned, sitting up, stretching his arms over his head before letting out a loud, ungraceful yawn and scratching his head, looking around the empty class- if he were to make out with her right now, they would never even be caught- Wooyoung, you’re not even dating her- true, but the way she had been pouting just made him want to- “Where are you going?”  he turned to her when he heard her shuffle, standing up and collecting her stuff, pausing to look at him, “Going back to my dorm… I’m tired.”

With that she walked away, not sure if she was mad at him, or upset at the thought of the hemlock of reality she was to swallow eventually, maybe she just wanted him to somehow disappear- rather if he was out of sight, he’d be out of mind- right? It’s not like she had spent all night staying up waiting for his text. It’s not like she rolled around in bed before devouring an entire pastry (she had been saving for the weekend) in tension and anticipation. It’s not like she had cried herself to sleep knowing that tomorrow she’d have to wake up and pretend her heart did not beat for a man who had carelessly dropped it years ago.

“W-wait!” running after her he jogged up to her until he was walking beside her, glancing down to note how she was not even trying to look up at him with her usual smile- shit. He really messed up, he didn’t know she was so determined for Seonghwa- this thought just added more salt to the nasty green that brewed within him, the ugly, vomit-like green that had him ranting to San all night, chugging down one too many beers, enough for him to wake up with a horrible hangover that even San’s hangover juice couldn’t fix- what did that f*cker know anyway, he didn’t drink and the girl he had been pinning over had been secretly pinning over him- not that he’d help San figure out, he had his own issues, honestly liking your academic rival isn’t the smartest thing anyway.

“Well, see you later.”

With that she walked into the building, only to have him follow her, she turned to look at him as he looked down at her with a sheepish smile, a nervous chuckle breaking the silence when she raised a brow, only to die down when she turned back around and started climbing up the stairs again, only for him to follow hot on her trail. Once again stopping right behind her when she stopped to open the door-incorrect, he had bumped into her, only for her to turn around and glare at him for a good minute, only turning when he gently gripped her shoulders and turned her around to the door, mumbling, “We still have one lesson left- I’ll combine two in one, special deal for my special girl.”

Cringing at the words, that stung her heart harder than imaginable, opening the door for and entering, not really waiting for him to enter or not, as she kicked off her shoes and flopped face first on the bed.

For a moment she could hear only the clattering of pots and pans, and the sound of a microwave and then the usual, gentle, unforgettable humming began to float in the air, dancing around her being, at this point, she didn’t even know what he was singing but that it was smoothening enough to lull her to sleep.

She didn’t know how long she was asleep, but she woke up when he gently shook her, whispering nonsense in her ear- oh wait no he’s talking about food. Soon enough she was sitting on the floor, sitting in front of her was the idiot, platting for her and himself, yapping about how he spent the entire afternoon sleeping and all she did was sleep, but that’s okay because she needed the rest, the list continued; Yangnyeom Chicken, Tteok-bokki and even ordered something sweet just for her-

“Why are you being so nice?”

Her words caused him to stop, as he looked at her, eyes narrowing at her for a split second before he took a deep breath, thinking about his words then speaking, “For ghosting you last night-”

“No, that’s not what I asked, and you know it- first you said no to even helping me, then you suddenly decided to help, you made me dress differently than I do, you didn’t even let me correct the waitress when she called you my boyfriend and- and then you just let her!” she didn't know when she started yelling, but when she stopped to take a deep breath, her eyes caught the whirlpool of emotions, she probably should’ve stopped, but she didn’t, years of it boiling and bubbling within her- she felt exploited, she felt cheated and misguided- hell she was even mad at herself, she was his best friend but was that enough of a reason for her to keep hurting? Perhaps she was hurting, but she wanted him to hurt too, even if that meant she would never see him again, “Then you ghost me like I don’t even exist! What is your problem!? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? How can you do this!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

The next couple of seconds were probably the worst he had ever spent in silence, his chest burning with every breath he heaved in, staring at her, the grip on his glass tightening, feeling the world around them constrict, squeezing in around them- or so he thought, he had yet to face the worst and when that moment arrived, it felt like he was slapped in the face, enough to have it stinging for days, especially when the words settled around them, the two words that she had, oh so casually, thrown at him like it didn’t matter at all like he didn’t matter at all like they never mattered at all. Instantly his brain had switched off, tuning out anything and everything that he could sense, wanting the earth to swallow him whole, wanting nothing more but to take a cold shower, to possibly feel something again, to possibly let out all he was feeling, to possibly forget her- forget them.

“Nah, bro.”

.

Did she f*ck up? Yes. Was she aware she f*cked up? Again, yes. She had realised what she had done as soon as the words had slipped past her lips- mind you, in her many years of being friends with this moron she had picked up a few bad habits from him, like staying up late at night, reading the end of a book first (just in case it had a sad end so she could throw it away) and perhaps losing the ability to think before she spoke- this one was a new trait she had acquired, one she had discovered just last night, as soon as he had slammed the door in her face, running away, ignoring her as she yelled out his name, waking up almost every other girl in the building. And no, he chose not to answer her calls or her texts- hell she even woke up poor San, who wasn’t at the dorm, weird, where exactly was he sleeping on a Thursday night if not at the dorm, she should ask Wooyo- oh wait, she can't! Because she F*CKED UP AND HE WAS IGNORING HER! Like hell!? She didn’t even mean the ‘Nah, bro.’ as an insult or a rejection, but for some reason after he dropped the ‘L’ bomb on her, that was all her brain could process at that given moment, perhaps because she was so stunned by the fact that he didn’t just like her back, he loved her! And she loved him. So, the nah bro was more like an ‘oh damn’, or an ‘oh god’ or an ‘oh wow’- okay, none of those seem like good responses when someone confesses to you, but see! That’s the point, it was so spontaneous- maybe she should’ve just kissed him- nah, she wouldn’t trespass his physical being like that- maybe she should’ve patted his shoulder? - wait, what if he hated her now? Realised it was a mistake and he was glad she messed up so he’d never have to see her again- oh no.

Slamming her hands on his door she let out a shaky breath, the intensity of her knocks increasing, this was not how she had expected her Sunday morning to go, breaking into the boy's dorms at university, slamming her fists so loud that the whole block may as well be awake. Was she risking expulsion, probably, but was he worth it- oh for sure.

"WOOYOUNG!"

"WHAT!"

The door slammed open, revealing a dishevelled Wooyoung, in nothing but his underwear, eyes widening at the realisation that it was in fact not Yunho who was bothering him in his early hours of brooding, but the source of his heartbreak had come to him. Now, mind you, the man lived with other men and never in his life did he imagine the girl he had been simping for, his own best friend, would come up to him in his domain like this, the same girl he had confessed to the night before, laid his heart bear and open for her to trample over like a wench- "Is that my hoodie?"

She stared at him, no, she shamelessly ogled at the boy-man- she had spent bullying and playing around with in her younger days. In front of her was not her annoying, stupid, dumb, irritating best friend but a who the fk, what the fk, why the fk- her chain of thought broke at his question.

"Wh-what?" breathing out, still trying to catch her breath from the extensive running she had done up the flight of stairs- curse him for living in a building with no elevator- that and the sight before her had her all hot and bothered even more. Note to self, this was- no wonder he was the king of the playground, she’d be his queen any day- well he did want her to be one until she managed to ‘wooyoung’ herself.

"Why-" shaking his head, he rubbed his face before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame, did she look all adorable, flushed pink, hair a mess and in his hoodie? Yes, was he still mad at her, definitely- so he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a quick reaction this time. He had spent all night crying, all night wondering and thinking of all the possibilities and incidences that could have her give this kind of response, this king of rejection, for her to just…just say something like that. He tried calling San but that useless butt was sleeping at someone’s (of course it was that girl from Philosophy 101- he’d seen them giggling like teens way back in the library- see, even he had someone, public or not- so no, he was not going to give her the satisfaction of him giving into her so easily, “What do you want?"

"I- you- I mean- oh my god- we like- f*cked." the words jumbled up, tumbling out of her mouth before her brain could from the sentence, "I f*cked up, my god, I do like you."

He knew what she meant, but he wouldn't be Wooyoung if he said so, hence the crooked smile that adorned his slightly puffy face, eyes heavy and droopy with sleep, "Unfortunately we haven't, but we could if you'd like”.

She stared at him for a good second, trying to process his response before raising her hand and slapping him across the face, enough for it to echo across the corridor and him to let out a mixture of a whimper and growl, hand on his burning cheek as he glared at her through bleary eyes, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“ME? YOU CAN’T YELL I LOVE YOU AND THEN RUN AWAY-”

“YOU REJECTED ME! YOU CALLED ME BRO?!”

“IT WAS JUST AN EXPRESSION- I WAS SHOCKED OKAY! I DIDN’T THINK YOU LIKED ME BACK I-”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU BACK! I LOVE YOU!”

“And I’d love to report you two, but considering how I know she’s usually triggered by your stupidity, I’ll let you off with a warning.” The two turned around (well she did, he just frowned and scoffed before mumbling something and going inside the apartment), quickly bowing and apologising she stood up straight, face flushed with embarrassment, only to receive a gentle smile.

“Didn’t know you two were so dense, most of us thought you two were already dating…. anyway, please take this inside, we can’t have others know there's a girl here, as the Prefect I’ll keep it a secret since you’re my junior.” He winked before walking away- Park Seonghwa was so cool- OH WAIT WOOYOUNG.

Closing the door behind her she ran to his room only to find him putting on a shirt- dang- before he sat down on the bed and stared at her, raising an eyebrow at her pout, especially when she walked over to him and whined, flopping onto him- falling onto him- only to hiss when their heads collided as he threw her off her (next to him on the bed), whining “Are you stupid?”

“Yeah…” she whimpered, rubbing her forehead as she lay on her side, looking at his side profile, admiring his side profile, could she do this openly, since they were now a couple- or at least were going to become one? “Stupid for you.”

Turning his head to her, grimacing at the choice of her words, well, he needed to get used to the poor pick-up lines, not that he would mind of course- “I love you too.”

Her words brought him back to them, sighing when he felt her press her hand against his pink cheek, feeling her thumb caress the stinging skin, scooting closer to her as he carelessly draped an arm around her waist pulling her even closer- he wanted more, the proximity between them to completely finish, but he couldn’t push her, he could never- he knew she took things slow and he’d let her no matter how long he had to wait- his eyes widened at the sudden pressure he felt on his lips, though it was gone as soon as it came, causing him to whine, looking back at her as she covered her face with her hands, mumbling an, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Same, sis.”

“Hey!” sitting up she glared down at him only for him to shrug, “Now you know how it felt.” He smirked all smug before moving further up the bed until his back was pressed against the padded headboard, opening his arms wide for her, a gesture the two understood all too well, a small smile gracing his lips when she instantly snuggled up in his arms, melting into his embrace when he kissed the top of her head, only for him to giggle when she returned the gesture by pressing her lips against his pulse point, feeling her warm breath against him as he sighed, “So…no more Seonghwa?”

“Only needed him to move on from you.”

“Damn…”  he sighed, squeezing her closer, not that she minded, she was finally getting the attention she deserved, the love she deserved, the love they deserved. It was a moment of purity, a moment of joy, a moment of sincerity that nothing and no one could ruin- “I was my own c*ckblock.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

A/N: Well that was a long wait- not like I have a project due on Monday but damn- I'm glad I finally finished this- I really hope it is worth the read.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis

#cromernet #k labels #ateez #wooyoung x reader #san #mingi #yunho #jongho #hongjoong #seonghwa #yeosang #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagine #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #wooyoung #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x you #fluff #ghostie #atz #atz wooyoung #wooyoung angst

[captainsophiestark]

End of the Line

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Wars

Summary: Anakin and his SO have a chaotic date night - and really, when dating Anakin, what other kind could there be?

Word Count: 1,051

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

A beam of light whizzed over my head from where I hunkered behind cover, almost nailing me right in the forehead. I grit my teeth and readied my weapon. That marked my opponent's tenth shot, meaning he'd need to let his gun recharge before he could fire again. Time to make my move.

"Alright, that's it! Your bloodline ends here!" I shouted at the top of my lungs before popping up from my cover behind the couch. I saw a flash of shaggy brown hair as my boyfriend, Anakin Skywalker, scrambled for cover of his own across the living room.

I raised my light gun—a blaster that literally just fired light, usually used by children for tag games but tonight employed by Anakin and I—and raced across the room after him.

I fired the entire time I ran, keeping Anakin from popping up his head. It left me with just one shot by the time I got to him, but one shot was all I needed.

I rounded the corner of my favorite cushy chair and fired at my boyfriend, right on target to hit him square in the chest. That is, until my light beam stopped in mid-air.

My eyes darted up to Anakin's to find him grinning, one hand extended the way he did sometimes to use the Force and the other still holding his newly-recharged blaster. I narrowed my eyes, but before I could say anything, he fired a shot of his own that hit me in the chest.

"You cheater!" I yelled, ignoring the explosion of light still glowing against my shirt. Anakin rolled to the side and dropped his hand, letting what would've been the perfect shot streak past him and into the far wall of our apartment. I scowled.

"You never said no Force," Anakin replied, getting to his feet with an entirely too satisfied smirk. He offered a hand to me, but I didn't take it.

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure I specifically said 'No Jedi bullshit' right before we started this thing."

Anakin grinned at me as I got to my feet and faced him.

"Exactly. No Jedi bullshit. Lots of people have a connection to and use the Force."

I closed my eyes and took a long, deep, dramatic breath. When I opened them again, Anaking was still watching me with a self-satisfied smirk.

"You've been spending too much time with politicans, trying to sell me on a loophole like that."

"As opposed to bounty hunters?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "You and I both know that's not what I do."

"I know. It's just fun to watch your face scrunch up."

I reached out and hit Anakin in the chest, but my heart wasn't in it. We'd first met because I'd been at the top of my class with the GAR, before they'd switched primarily to clones, and the Jedi had needed an extra, well-trained hand on short notice. Now, I basically worked as a contractor for the Republic. I'd continued to help the Jedi regularly, especially, and I'd gotten close with many of them. But Anakin more than anyone else.

"So. Rematch?" Anakin asked, raising an eyebrow and holding his light blaster up. I smiled.

"As much fun as it would be to beat you in a No-Force rematch-" Anakin scoffed and raised an eyebrow, but I just ignored him. "-we already spend too much of our time around blasters. How about we order some of our favorite foods and find a good holo to watch?"

Anakin smiled, soft and genuine, and let the hand with his blaster fall back to his side.

"Yeah. I guess we can-"

He got cut short when I brought my hand up as fast as lightning, my recharged blaster now ready to go. I levelled it at his chest, pausing just long enough to give him a grin and register the absolute shock on his face before pulling the trigger.

A bright light exploded across Anakin's chest, making the front half of his shirt about five shades lighter. I cackled.

"Ha, now we're even! Call that a tie and let's get some pizza."

Anakin shook his head at me, but he was grinning all the same.

"You're ruthless. And that was incredibly sneaky of you."

I just gave him a wink.

"You know you love it, Skywalker. It's why you love me."

He snorted, but came close enough to wrap his arms around me and pull me into this chest, too.

"I do love you. Sneaky cheater in competition and all."

"Aww, babe."

Anakin and I shared a laugh and a smile before leaning into a soft, sweet kiss. Since he was a Jedi, we couldn't just do stuff like this whenever and wherever we wanted. Which meant I knew not to take a single moment alone with him for granted.

"So, now that my title's been defended, do you want to follow through on that pizza and some holos?" I asked.

"We could do that. Or..."

"Or?"

Anakin grinned, a familiar troublemaker spark in his eye that I loved. I grinned right back.

"Instead of holos or a rematch, we could team up to go wreak some havoic on Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. Play a few rounds absolutely destroying them, and then disappear somewhere nice together where they can't find us."

"I like the way you think, Skywalker. Do the Jedi or the Force or whatever say anything about soulmates?"

"I don't think so... Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure you're mine. Get your blaster ready and let's go have some fun."

I started to head for the door, but Ani's strong arm around my waist pulled me quickly back into a searing kiss. I let my free hand come up to tangle in his hair and kissed him back, hard, until we were both finally forced to come up for air.

"Okay," Anakin said, slightly breathless and with a smile on his face. "Now we can go wreak some havoic."

I laughed as I took Anakin's hand, a little giddy as I pulled him towards the oor. We really made the perfect pair, to the occasional detriment of our friends, whether or not they actually knew we were a pair. Hopefully, we could get through this war together, and find our way to a happy ending on the other side.

And until then, we'd just find as many happy moments together like this as we could.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

#sophie's year of fic #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars oneshot #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker oneshot #star wars x reader #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #jedi #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars oneshot #anakin skywalker fluff #the clone wars x reader #the clone wars imagine #obi wan kenobi

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Howdy howdy,

Putting in a couple ideas so you can whichever strikes your fancy the most! Or if none do, then that's alright too, of course haha

First idea (and forgive me if you've already written something like this) is Aemond discovering that you're thirsting over someone? Maybe Daemon? Dealers choice- and how he'd react to that?

Second idea is Aemond calling fem!reader daddy- either mockingly or in passing or whatever? I don't see anything like this in your drabbles so, again, if you're not into it then no harm done just ignore this

Or three, very simple- High Valerian dirty talk ahah (maybe where Daemon or someone else who speaks it can hear? idk, do whatever you like w this, of course, if it strikes your fancy)

I still need to go through and read all the stuff you've got out, but here are some nsfw ideas that have popped into my nog today thinking about Aemond and Daemon whom I am both head over heels for smh

👀 ty for giving me permission to pop a req in- just lemme know if these aren't for you np

Sorry, you sent this in January! Just letting you know this is now on the WIPs list and sharing a teaser...

Gūrēnilaksir (Lesson)

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Incest, smut.

Summary: When Daemon's niece seeks out his help in becoming more proficient in the language of High Valyrian, he decides to teach her the phrases he knows she'll find hardest to forget...

Full fic coming soon. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

#asked and answered #lovely moots 💕 #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen

[ink-flavored]

Make The Word Tag

tagged by @void-botanist, thank you!

Rules: Using the 3 random words given to you, you have to write a scene either using all 3 words in one scene OR write three separate scenes using each word separately.

Sicne this got a little long, I'll tag everyone right up top.

Your words are: organ, jump, cold

Tagging: @foxys-fantasy-tales @noblebs @vacantgodling @taranorma @sigridhawke @ink-enchanted @hallwords @leahnardo-da-veggie @rachaellawrites @wintherlywords @ettawritesnstudies and anyone else who wants to write something!

My words were: volcano, heaven, and means, and I wrote the following scene(s) for P&J!

~

The awkward silence grew exceptionally long. Pride stared at a stain on the wall, pretending to wonder where it came from. He didn’t know why he was still sitting there, listening to Justice sniffle into a tissue an arm’s length away, but couldn’t force his body to move. All his muscles clenched, waiting in suspense for permission to slink off the couch and forget this ever happened.

“Thank you,” Justice suddenly mumbled.

Pride almost jumped. “For what?”

“For listening, I guess.” He crumpled the used tissue in his fist, staring down at it with a wet smile. “I can’t really talk to humans about this, so.”

“You probably could. Just don’t say you’re homesick for Heaven. Let people fill in the rest themselves.”

Justice scrunched his nose. “I don’t know, I’m not a good liar.”

“It’s not lying, technically.”

“Sure, but it feels better to be able to tell the truth.” He gestured between them, the empty cushion on the couch even more exaggerated. “To talk to someone who gets it.”

“I don’t.”

Pride’s mouth answered so quickly he didn’t have time to think about what it said. Justice blinked his puffy eyes, taken-aback.

“What… do you mean?” he ventured.

“I’m not homesick,” Pride said. “I don’t miss anywhere, really.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“You don’t miss anyone?”

Pride snorted. Justice would never know how funny that question was. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. Hell sucked ass and I’m glad I’ll never be able to go back.”

“Oh.”

Justice sat back on the couch, confusion overtaking the homesickness that Pride discovered mere minutes ago. The longer he sat there, eyes far away in thought, the more a suspicion grew in Pride’s mind. A suspicion that seemed completely ridiculous.

“You don’t think demons actually like it in Hell,” he said, “do you?”

Justice turned to him and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they?”

It was, perhaps, the dumbest thing Pride had ever been asked in his life. If he didn’t have his horns safely tucked away, he’d assume he was getting high off his own demonic fumes. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“I don’t know anything about Hell, and you lived there, so—”

“’Lived there’? I existed there. I survived, barely.”

Justice looked as astonished as he felt. “But—why? Didn’t Lucifer create it for you?”

That was the second dumbest thing Pride had ever been asked in his life. “I fell with Lucifer. Hell was waiting for us—it existed before we ever got there.”

The silence was not awkward this time. It was electrified with unspoken questions. Pride spun through a dozen different ones—mostly consisting of What the fuck? in different volumes—and watched Justice silently spin through a dozen more. When it seemed like neither of them would ever speak again, Pride blurted out the first thing that landed on his tongue.

“Is that what they teach you about us?” he asked.

It was Justice’s turn to snort. “Most of that was my own guesses. Heaven doesn’t teach us anything beyond the basics.”

Pride didn’t need an elaboration past that—he could figure out for himself what “basics” an angel in the army of God would learn about a demon. That they were singularly focused on bringing down Heaven, by any means necessary.

“Things have definitely changed,” he mused.

“Changed how?”

“Back when I fell, all anybody could talk about was Lucifer’s rebellion, and how crazy it was that demons existed.” Pride stretched his arms over his head in perverse satisfaction. “I guess being the new kids on the block meant more back then.”

Justice didn’t share his enthusiasm, watching him gently. “You were part of the rebellion?”

“Oh, sure. I even had a hand in planning it.”

“Really.”

It was a bluff that almost no one would be able to check him on, especially not Justice, so Pride plastered on his favorite smug smile. “Really. No big deal.”

Justice didn’t look totally convinced—not that Pride needed him to be—but nodded along. “I can see why you wouldn’t miss Hell. Plus everything else.”

Pride just made a noise, pretty done with the conversation. Reliving his very, very short glory days aside, there was little else he had to say. Homesickness was as foreign to him as humanity. Earth was slightly better than Purgatory. It was a hundred times better than Hell, not that Hell was a very high bar. So to be honest, there was nothing else Pride had to say about this.

“Do you miss Heaven, then?”

He froze. All feeling drained out of his body until he was cold, still, and strained. He forced his mind blank so he wouldn’t think of anything.

When he didn’t respond, Justice tried again. “I know it’s been a while, but you were an ang—”

“If you finish that sentence, your teeth go out with it.”

Pride jumped off the couch, rattling with the desire to go somewhere, anywhere else. He planted his feet, eyes spinning around the room. His tail lashed around his ankles, appearing out of thin air. Thick, black smoke poured from his horns like the mouth of a volcano.

“I—I’m sorry,” Justice tried. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t miss Heaven,” Pride snarled. “I never fucking liked it there to begin with, and as far as your kind are concerned, I was never one of you.”

His nerves snapped into motion and his legs carried him away. Pride didn’t care where he was going, barely noticed his hand reaching out the door, could hardly see the outside world through the scarlet haze covering his eyes.

Someone was going to sin tonight. Badly.

#annika talks #ask game #P&J #Pride & Justice #P&J: Snippet

[orion-tyche]

Risk (part 2)

Summary: She’s gone. Omega fell over the catwalk ramp, after shooting Hemlock herself. Hunter hardly knows what to do with himself. He failed her. Omega feels what death is like. Or…is it really even death?

Word count: 1003

Notes: part 2 of Risk! Go read pt 1 first to understand what’s going on (and if you want more sad). Also, if you would like to be on the tag list for pt3, reply or reblog letting me know!

Part 1

It was cold. Cold and painful. That was all Omega felt. Was this some sort of afterlife? Stuck in eternal suffering? She couldn’t see anything. Just an abyss of nothingness.

She felt something else now. Something through all the pain. It was faint, granted, but she felt it. The occasional drop of water on her face. Like rain. There was rain when she fell. How could she forget? Maybe that’s what death was like. A black void with nothing but small reminders of how it happened. Well, except for the pain. It was spiking throughout her entire body, lighting up every nerve. It hurt. It really did. It was strange, in all honesty. Omega had heard people say that death is when pain stops, that death is the escape. But here she was.

In pain.

Hunter walked through the thick jungle of Weyland, using his vibroknife to cut through any thick plants or vines. Previously, he had met up with Echo and Wrecker in the hangar of Mount Tantiss. After…what happened on the catwalk. Wrecker was badly hurt, so Echo took him and the rest of the clones they’d freed onto a shuttle. There hadn’t been many. Echo said there was a fight between them and the operatives. Not many made it out. Crosshair went with them as well. His hand, or where it used to be, needed treatment. And he couldn’t take much more. Between being back at Tantiss and…the catwalk, he needed rest. Hunter did, too. But he refused to take any. He needed to find her. He wouldn’t allow her body to rot away in the jungle of the place she hated most, especially with Hemlock. No, he needed to find her. And, even though he knew it was impossible, he had just a sliver of hope that she was alive. But hope was hope, and it was all he had.

He kept walking through the jungle, quietly as not to disturb any creatures that might be nearby. He remembered the giant creature that slashed at Wrecker, and how he hadn’t noticed it until it was too late. It was clear his senses were off. He needed to be on guard if he was going to make it through the jungle, or to find Omega, for that matter. He knew everyone was waiting on a shuttle to leave as soon as he got back. So he had to be careful, but quick. He didn’t want anyone staying here longer than they had to.

The pain hadn’t gone away. But Omega’s head had cleared up a little. It didn’t hurt as much now. She could feel something slipping away. But what exactly it was, she didn’t know. She was already dead. What did she have left to lose?

Death was uncomfortable. Omega wondered if she would have to be like this for the rest of eternity. In pain. In sorrow. Left alone with her thoughts.

She felt something new, now. Like movement. She felt what used to be her arm shift just a bit. Strange. It was the arm that was cuffed to Hemlock. She heard a noise. A groan of pain and discomfort. Something was wrong.

She wasn’t alone.

Hunter moved over a rock, careful not to slip. It was still raining, but not as hard as it had been. His movements were slow, his energy drained by all that had happened. He kept scanning the jungle for any sign of Omega. Anything. He needed to find her. He had been searching for hours now. Nothing. Hunter heard his comm device beep. He pressed a button on it to let the transmission through.

“Hunter, it’s Echo. The other clones here are getting restless. We have to leave.”

“I can’t. I haven’t found Omega.” Hunter heard Echo sigh through the device.

“Hunter. I…I’m sorry. I really am. But we both…we both know she’s gone.”

“Even so, she doesn’t deserve to rot away here.”

“Hunter, we have no other choice. We can’t stay here any longer. Besides, the Empire will be showing up soon to see what’s happened here.” Hunter stood in silence for a moment. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave Omega’s body somewhere in this jungle. But he knew what needed to be done.

“Alright. Heading back to the ship now.”

Omega felt the movement near her arm continue. It was strange. Could she feel such things in death? She heard another wince. And then something like…crying? It was a familiar voice. But not a good familiar. The crying stopped and Omega felt all movement stop. Whoever she was hearing had clearly noticed something. Now she felt like she was being dragged. Not a good thing, considering how much pain she was already in. She groaned and winced as she felt the pain get worse again. The movement stopped a second time.

“You’re alive.” She heard a voice say. Oh. That’s where she knew the voice. It was Hemlock’s voice. What was he saying? Was he talking about her? Was it really him? And how was she hearing any of this? She was supposed to be dead. So was he. Omega felt herself being moved again. The darkness around her began…fading away? She couldn’t properly see anything, but there was a ton of green and blue and white around her. She was turned by whoever was there, presumably the one with Hemlock’s voice, and saw a fuzzy silhouette in front of her. Her vision stabilized, and realized it was Hemlock. She gave a small gasp before coughing and feeling a sharp pain…everywhere. Everything hurt so bad. She blinked and looked around. She was in the jungle on Tantiss. Still cuffed to Hemlock. He looked at her with something like concern behind his eyes. He was clearly injured, burnt skin visible through his uniform on his shoulder. That must’ve been where Omega shot him. His arm looked broken. But, sadly, not the one attached to Omega. He was here. With her.

And both of them were alive.

Part 3 (coming soon)

#the bad batch #star wars #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch spoilers #star wars tbb #sw the bad batch #tbb omega #omega tbb #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #tbb royce hemlock #royce hemlock #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch omega #omega the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction

[wordsofoleander]

🌸 answer me, my prince!

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a suave prince with all he could ever ask for. a starry-eyed editor who longed for more. two unexpected penpals from vastly different worlds.

they were undoubtedly fated to meet, but never face-to-face.

❥ 735 words ❥ tags: au, fluff, slightly angsty if you blink, very very self-indulgent, no beta we die like chads, mentions of cove, qiu, and my ol2 mc! ❥ notes: the hyperfixation was so strong i emerged from inactivity. i finished the comic this fic shares a title with last weekend and refused to move on,,, made for #baxtermcweek (day 4 prompt: au), hosted by @minthe-drawings

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He doesn’t realize how long he’s repeatedly been opening and closing the empty book chest until he slams it shut a little too loud, snapping him out of his reverie. His eyes dart left and right and his ears stay alert in case he accidentally woke anyone up.

He hears nothing, so hopefully the coast is clear. He opens the book chest again, and the letter he’s waited all night for sits perfectly inside, having appeared out of thin air. 

He needs not wait to carefully examine the envelope or admire its design (far more cleaner-cut and colorful than what he's received from others over the years) as he immediately gets to reading.

—

Prince Baxter Alexander.

You’re getting better at pressuring me to reply to you faster and faster. It scares me a little.

Regarding your story, I think what you did for their sake was quite admirable. I can’t even imagine going as far as to pretend to be Cove’s fiancée for his protection, let alone for 5 years! But back to you. Since you didn’t end up falling in love with each other, does this mean Lady Ysabel’s lover is much more good-looking than you are? Would you mind getting a portrait of the Laird Qiu for your friend?

—

Silly Iri.

(You’ve never asked me for my portrait. You wound me. Nonetheless, I forgive you.)

You of all people should be able to know that not every long-standing friendship necessarily has the potential to end in romance.

—

Like us?

—

We are a bit of a special case because I do not think of Ysabel every day.

—

(Oh, what am I going to do with you?)

Ever the type to give people the answers they want to hear now, are you? You’re surrounded by far more impressive people in your daily life, people you can actually talk to and see.  I highly doubt that you think of me every day.

(PS It’s way past midnight, so I should probably get ready for bed if I don’t want to be late for work. Sleep well, my prince.)

—

Irina Clarice, my sick twisted friend.

What? Is laying my entire self bare to you, heart and soul, in the written word last night not enough for you? After all the times I’ve spent my evenings waiting for your letters?

I specifically chose this time of year to get away from my parents under the guise of avoiding the heat and helping the monks at the scriptorium. Summer, after all, is the perfect time to do something crazy, pursue a new beauty, to start anew. I confess to you that I imagined nightly sneak-outs to rendezvous with someone who’s caught my eye, but all this time, I’ve been holed up in the scriptorium’s writing room, idly and politely waiting by the book chest on my desk in anticipation to see if you have replied to what I’ve written about my latest misadventures. Before I knew it, I’d already spent the entirety of my summer getting to know you. Now I do know you, and there is no one else like you anywhere else in the world. 

Tragically, we shall never have the chance to meet, so I don’t think whatever it is I’m feeling in my chest can be called love. My fate is sealed. 

Still, whenever the sight of someone so beautiful catches my eye, thoughts of you fill my head, and I become almost upset, complaining that no matter who I meet, they will never be anything like my Iri. So, my dear friend, do not tell me that I do not think of you every day. 

I do not recall you mentioning having felt this way towards your childhood companions, nor your devilishly handsome Xander from the antique shop,  so I shall regrettably but with dignity take this as a victory.

On a lonely night on the month of heat’s end, Your Baxter Alexander.

(PS Clarence and I are departing tomorrow at dawn for Golden Grove to attend Qiu’s wedding, just in time for the beginning of fall. Bringing the book chest with me would be far too bothersome for such a short trip. I expect to be away for about three to four days.

Even so, worry not your pretty little head and get a good night’s rest without my letters to bother you, Iri. I hope you do not miss me too much.)

#🌸 — fresh from the garden. #🌺 — another step forward. #our life beginnings and always #our life #olba #olba mc #baxter ward #baxtermcweek #baxter x mc week

[comfymoth]

Wait what happened with Wilbur? I've been a bit out of the loop lately

shubble recently spoke in detail about her experiences with an abusive ex, and despite not naming anyone directly, a lot of the identifiable information pointed to wilbur. lovejoy’s ex-trumpeter also tweeted after the stream saying that they had similar stories and supported shelby speaking out. when people tried to say that it couldn’t be wilbur because shelby didn’t name him specifically, shelby tweeted on their alt saying that there were a lot of reasons they couldn’t name their abuser, so it all just paints a bit of a picture.

i’m not saying he’s 100% guilty. like i said, no one’s technically named him. but i am saying that until i know for sure he isn’t, i don’t feel comfortable engaging in his fandom. as a survivor myself that’s a boundary i’m allowed to set, i’m allowed to be cautious.

unfortunately the vod isn’t up anymore and i’m not sure where you can find it, but that’s a quick overview of the situation

#abuse mention #let me know if there’s anything else i need to tag

[catwingsathena]

Okay. Unpopular opinion time. (I haven’t been in the Dracula Daily tag in a while because I was seeing some stuff there that was really upsetting me, so I don’t actually know how unpopular this opinion is, but from what I’ve seen I Have A Feeling.)

Jonathan’s declaration on October 3rd that he’ll become a vampire too if Mina becomes one isn’t a good thing, actually. I love him despite it, not because of it. But I do love him despite it, and I think it makes complete sense in light of his character and, especially, the trauma he’s been through.

Minor spoilers (and somewhat lengthy analysis) below the cut:

(At least, I think the spoilers are minor. There’s no actual discussion of what happens beyond this point, although possibilities—that have already been brought up in Dracula Daily—are discussed. Use your good judgement about whether to click on the readmore.)

Don’t get me wrong. I do love Jonathan, very much, and I don’t blame him for feeling this way, for reasons I’ll get into later. But I think it’s important to note here that Mina very explicitly does not want that. She’s literally willing to kill herself to avoid hurting her friends (minor spoilers: it comes up later that, if necessary, the others could kill her and make sure she didn’t turn, by doing the same things they did with vampire Lucy’s body). And, if vampires work the way I interpret them in this novel (and I think my reading is heavily supported by the text), if Mina becomes a vampire, her soul—the real Mina—will be trapped in her body, watching it commit atrocities forever, unable to rest or have any influence over what the body that used to be hers does. The fact that Jonathan is willing to condemn her to that fate, which he himself was willing to face almost certain death to avoid, when she has clearly expressed a preference to do the same if it comes to it, is just as much a violation of Mina’s agency as shutting her out of group vampire hunting was.

And yet I have so much sympathy for Jonathan here. I think this resolution is reflective of a character flaw that’s probably just part of him (and part of what makes him an interesting and realistic character), and. I think a lot of it is a response to the trauma he went through this spring/summer.

For one thing: a huge part of the horror of Jonathan’s experience in Castle Dracula was the sheer, prolonged isolation. For months on end, he had no one to talk to except the man who was psychologically abusing him and probably plotting to kill him. He had no way of contacting the outside world. He was deeply, profoundly alone.

And he has made up his mind that Mina is not going to go through the same thing.

Even if Mina is trapped in her body, she’s still in there. If he can’t save her, he can at least keep her company, even if he’s likewise trapped. She won’t be as crushingly lonely as he was if he has anything to say about it.

Which brings me to my next point.

After what Jonathan went through, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have some degree of learned helplessness. Some belief, that he will not give voice to even in his own journal, that he is probably actively fighting but that creeps in all the same, that they are doomed and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about that. (Side note: escaping by himself, leaving a scar on the Count with a shovel, and getting another swing in with a giant knife are probably helping with that. But still. He was stuck there for months, walking that tightrope and knowing that if he stepped out of line he’d be killed, having his every attempt at escape or communication brutally thwarted. It’s got to be a Thing.)

So, as hard as he’s trying to resist it? I’m pretty sure there’s a part of Jonathan that believes Mina is going to become a vampire, no matter what he or she or anyone else does to stop it. That Dracula will have his way in the end, and that any attempts to thwart his plans—even so far as keeping Mina from turning—are doomed to fail. And he’s made up his mind that she won’t go into that land alone—that she won’t be there alone, like he was.

Tl;dr Jonathan’s determination to become a vampire with Mina if he has to is a bad call, but it’s grounded in both realistic character flaws and likewise realistic trauma responses, so I don’t really blame him.

#dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #jonmina #trauma mention #death mention #ptsd mention #learned helplessness mention #suicide mention #character analysis #dracula meta #long post under cut #let me know if there’s anything else i need to tag

[natjennie]

okay, bear with me this requires a lot of context. imagine that you wake up on a space ship with an alien species capable of telepathic communication with you. they are also capable of instilling you with the knowledge that everything they say is completely true, there is not a hint of uncertainty in your mind. they have weapons capable of obliterating earth pointed at the planet, and are forcing you to do one of two things in order to not fire. within the fiction of the scenario you are not being given the choice, but you the real you is picking which one of these things you'd rather have happen.

you must eat an 8 ounce serving of human baby meat, by default prepared like a steak (different preparations can be requested). you do not have to keep the meat down once you're done, but you have to get all of it in your body at one point. they do not provide any information about where the baby came from or how it died. if you complete this, they will deposit you back on earth and you will be free from legal repercussions of cannibalism, and it is generally agreed that you are also free from moral blame as it was against your will.

you will be surgically impregnated with a human embryo and must carry it to term and give birth. the embryo does not contain your dna, but otherwise you don't know anything about its origins. the aliens have advanced medical technology that gives you sufficient anatomy to carry and birth the baby, and keeps you healthy throughout, with no risk of long term complications or death. you have the choice to keep or give away the baby once you have given birth, and will be deposited back on earth.

if you refuse to comply in either situation, they destroy the earth and you are forced to live the rest of your life aboard the space ship as a prisoner, until you die of natural causes.

so,

#tw: child death #tw: childbirth #childbirth #child death #tw: cannibalism #cannibalism #tw: pregnancy #pregnancy #aliens #how else do i need to tag this #let me know #i only realized right as i finished typing that this could be triggering im sorry #please tell me if i need to tag anything else

[inimeitiel]

𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭.

𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭, 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓾𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽.

𝓘𝓯 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝔂 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼.

𝓘𝓽’𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮, 𝔂𝓮𝓼.

𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱? 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵?

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮.

Long time not showing OC Elia. Call it a bloody comeback. Fancy writing by @ivanhoenineteenninetyfour as usual 🙇🏻‍♀️✨

#art #artists on tumblr #oc #OCs #tw: blood #tw: animal death #tw blood #tw animal death #if i need to tag anything else let me know #cw: blood #cw: animal death