#and it's just for my Own Tagging purposes

[vic-does-battlecats]

Aromantic visibility day is definitely today

[bbapplegirlie]

Little Apple Shorts

A Love and Deepspace Caleb Fic

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NSFW! ADULTS ONLY!

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Author’s Note: Hello, this is my first time writing Caleb fic :3 He’s such an interesting and multifaceted character—I’m feeling compelled to explore all his different sides (especially him being a perverted freak). I want to start with some short little head canons and moments, and maybe progress towards a longer, story-driven fic someday. I don’t have any beta readers or writing buddies, this is 100% me and my unhinged obsession with this man!! This one takes place when Caleb and MC hare busy in college. It is very loosely inspired by this comic. If you saw me post and delete this a hundred times, no you didn’t, Tumblr formatting is confusing!! I won't do it again, I promise :,) I hope you enjoy!! xx

Content Tags: Smut, nonconsensual voyeurism, fantasies of punishing you, Caleb sneakily jerks off while watching you, Caleb comes in his pants like a virgin loser

Length & Status: Roughly 2.5k words, completed one-shot

Caleb’s Length & Status: 9 inches and hard as steel ;)

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Caleb regretted buying you those little apple shorts.

Well, perhaps regret wasn’t quite the right word. It certainly wasn’t regret making his cock throb so hard that it tented even the stiff canvas of his pilot uniform. And, fuck, did that friction of fabric on the swollen head of his cock feel good; he was nearly ready to rut against his own clothing to chase the pleasure.

Seriously, what had he been thinking, ordering those for you?

He thought he’d had pure intentions when he bought them.

When he saw the ad for them online, the embroidered apple halves and slices along the lettuce-hem trim were so cute and so you that he’d shipped them to your shared childhood home right away. He’d been away at the Aerospace Academy so damn much that he wanted to spoil you in any way he could.

He thought the shorts would be a sweet gesture to show that you were always on his mind, even when he was gone.

But now, Caleb had suspicions about his subconscious motivations.

Had he known just how… vulgar they would look on you? Was that why he’d really ordered them?

You were laying in your bed on your tummy, faced away from where Caleb hovered in the doorway. You were swinging your feet in the air, listening to music through your kitten-ear headphones (another present that he’d gotten for you some months ago), completely oblivious to Caleb and the perfectly tantalizing view you were giving him of your ass. No wonder you hadn’t raced to meet him at the front door when he came in; you hadn’t even heard him. He’d have to scold you later about how loudly you played that music. It wasn’t safe to be so unaware of your surroundings, and the hearing damage alone was enough to be concerned about.

But for now, he was content to take advantage of you being caught unaware by guiltily, shamefully drinking up the sight of you in those damn apple shorts.

The fabric looked soft but thin. Too thin, pulled so taut across the swell of your ass cheeks, he could make out the black lace trim of your panties underneath. Had he ordered them a size too small? Had he subconsciously done that on purpose, too?

Caleb audibly whimpered as you reached down and adjusted the waistband, pulling that too-thin fabric up into your ass cheeks, not leaving a single detail of the shape to his imagination (which he’d, admittedly, used quite liberally in the past whenever it involved you; now, he wouldn’t need to.)

Not only were the shorts thin, but that little adjustment made him all too aware of how short they were. They might as well have been underwear with how they conformed to your body; they were so short that the crease where your ass met your thighs was fully visible. Caleb became briefly consumed with the thought of running his tongue along that crease. He fought hard to hold back the moan that was rumbling to life in his chest. The music wouldn’t block out every sound if he didn’t contain himself.

There was no way in hell he would ever let you out of the house wearing those shorts. He debated taking a lap real quick around the house to make sure all the blinds were shut, just to make sure no one could see even an inch of your body.

No one but him.

He’d pictured a sweet, cheerful, hug-filled reunion when he returned home for summer break, but those plans were quickly evaporating. There was no way in hell he could hug you right now, not with his cock as hard as it was. Perhaps it was a blessing that you had your headphones on, after all. He needed to hurry down the hall undetected to his old bedroom and get a grip on himself before greeting you properly.

Get a grip on himself…

Just thinking those words had him fighting back another moan, because it made him picture literally getting a grip on himself, wrapping his slender fingers around his vein-laced cock and fucking into his own hand like the touch-starved animal he was.

The logical side of him argued that it was just an intrusive thought, that it wasn’t too late to turn to his room. It ordered him to take a cold shower to clear his head before he got caught ogling you like a pervert.

But the years of yearning, the years of picturing you while he laid alone in bed and bucked his hips up into his own fist, the bittersweet poison of being so close to you but never close enough…

He could only take so much.

He was only a young man himself, after all. He had needs, and jerking himself alone to the thought of you wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Jerking himself to the real life sight of you was definitely an improvement.

Before he knew it, and against his better judgment, he was leaning his luggage against the wall to free both of his hands. It was like a gravitational force with the might of a black hole had consumed him, forcing his palm towards that aching part of him. The first brush of his hand over the fabric strained by his already-weeping cock had his hips bucking forward sharply with an equally sharp intake of breath. He had to use his other hand to catch himself on your doorway for stability from just how quickly he was being overridden by desire. He winced when the floorboard creaked loudly below him with the shift of weight, but you still didn’t notice, happily humming along to one of your favorite songs.

The chorus came on, loudly enough that Caleb could hear it from where he stood. You swayed your hips along to the beat. The plump, curved flesh of your ass jiggled in tandem with the movement, and Caleb’s palm clenched over his constrained cock in response.

Rubbing himself over his clothes wasn’t enough.

Leaning harder against the doorframe, he oh-so-carefully undid the belt of his pilot uniform. He cursed at how loud each click and clank of the metal was, but you really were completely oblivious and lost in your own world. Caleb was both infuriated by it and grateful for it. Were you ever out in public like this, with your guard down completely, sitting like prey, waiting for any number of predators to swoop down and take advantage of you?

It didn’t escape him that he was that predator right now as he unzipped his fly and slipped his hand into his pants. His cock bobbed up and down in greeting, a heavy, hot drop of pre-cum emerging from his tip with the motion.

He didn’t waste time wrapping his fingers around his cock fully then, the skin-to-skin heat of his palm on his shaft making him thrust forward again… but this time, he didn’t stop the motion. He kept up the firm, unyielding rhythm, his hips and hand working in tandem in a well-practiced dance.

You kept dancing to your song, and Caleb marveled at how you swayed across your silky bedsheets. Every little movement rippled across the fabric as well as the flesh of your ass; it had Caleb fixated like a dog on a bone.

He wanted to get closer to you.

He wanted to kneel on those same bedsheets. To run his palm along your body, to grab the perfect indents of your waist, to hoist you up by the hips and line his cock up with the center of you… he wanted to see if he could get you so wet that it was visible through your panties and shorts. With the fabric as thin as it was, he was sure it wouldn’t be too hard.

He wanted to pull the shorts and panties to the side and press himself up against that hot, slick part of you that he’d dreamed about for years. He wanted to fuck you while you still wore them. He wanted to know your warmth, to worship it. Of course, he would also have to spank you for allowing yourself to get caught off-guard so easily; but he’d make sure it was worth enduring his punishments. He was just looking out for you, after all. Everything he did was because he loved you so deeply.

He wanted those shorts soaked in sweat, slick, cum, tears, and spit; yours and his. He wanted to take them back with him to Skyhaven so you couldn’t wear them again without his explicit permission. He’d let you wear them, sometimes, but only around him.

And when you two were apart, he would keep them under his pillow, the perfect keepsake to remember your scent while he was away.

Your sudden movement interrupted his reverie. No, you weren’t just dancing—you were getting up.

In a panic, Caleb ducked back around the corner, terrified you were about to turn around and find him out.

But you didn’t end up moving too much.

No, you were just trying to reach for something that you were laying on top of. With one eye peaking around the edge of the doorway, Caleb watched you try to grab your phone charger. You lifted your hips up, tilting backwards in such a way that your back arched beautifully, your butt aimed high. He could see every inch of you, and those shorts were doing absolutely nothing to cover your most intimate parts. Now, he could see the lace undies covering the sweet bud of your lips as they peaked out on either side of the tiny excuse of a gusset on the shorts. Whatever moment of terror Caleb had experienced was gone; no, he was entirely enchanted by you. The adrenaline of almost getting caught only fueled his pleasure, his cock pulsating with the rush. He resumed firmly stroking his cock, speeding up the pace along with his panting breath.

“Fuck, pips…” he uttered, completely hoarse, still unheard over your music. He could feel his gut tightening, his stomach muscles rippling, his cock throbbing and swelling painfully. Something like an omen of lightning sparked along his spine, threatening to strike at any moment. He’d cum quick to the thought of you too many times to count, but getting to see you right there in front of him, to smell your perfume and natural scent mingling in the small bedroom as he touched himself, oh, it was just too much, he was going to cum even faster this time—

The moment came hard and fast, overriding his every sense to the point of blindness. No, blindness wasn’t the right word… because he could still see you. It was the rest of the world that faded away with the ecstasy of his climax, and you were all that there was, all that he could see, all he could think about in that incoherent moment of bliss. His cock pulsed a heartbeat of its own. The cum plummeted from the head of his cock in unbelievably long torrents, hot and sticky and getting everywhere. All over his shaft, dripping down his balls, his legs, soaking into the fabric of his pants.

He wasn’t quiet about it, either. He was a whimpering, moaning, pathetic mess, and he had to pray that the music you were listening to continued to be loud enough to protect him at that moment. He quivered against the doorframe, humping his hips against the wood as if it could possibly replicate the warmth of your body.

Fuck, his orgasm just kept going on and on. They usually had faded by that point; he didn’t think he could have so damn much cum in his balls at once, now spilling all over himself. He rode the wave of pleasure, all control lost, picturing that it was you wrapped around him instead of his hand as he milked himself of every ounce of his seed.

His manic rutting into his hand didn’t come without a cost, though. The wood of the doorframe creaked, loudly, and it timed itself perfectly with the silence in between songs on your headphones.

You stopped your dancing and humming, finally alert to somebody else in the house. It all happened too quickly—you slipped your headphones off, sat up in bed, and spun to face the intruder, and all the while, Caleb was still cumming.

He hadn’t gathered enough mental capacity in his short-circuiting brain to even begin debating running down the hall by the time you had fully faced him with a beautiful smile on your face. His cock pulsed out the last few beats of his orgasm at that sight, a mix of love and adrenaline rendering his limbs shaky. He held on to the doorframe for dear life, fearful that he might just collapse into a heap at your feet.

“Caleb! You’re home!" you greeted, oblivious to his overpowering orgasm. You pushed yourself up from the bed, clearly just as eager to see him as he was to see you; perhaps he hadn’t been alone in daydreaming about this reunion.

But of course, he had to go and ruin it. He lifted one hand in a gesture to dismiss you, his other hand straining to keep his cock from popping out of his unzipped pants. “N-no, pipsqueak, you don’t need to get up for me! I need to get freshened up, and I, ah, uh, j-just give me a moment, okay, would ya?” He was rambling, he knew it, but he couldn’t manage to find composure. He was desperately trying to maintain his position that showed his face and not his dangling belt, unzipped fly, and cum-stained pants, pressed up against the wall and only half-way leaning into the doorway to greet you. “I need to get my bags p-put away and get settled in first. I’ll be back in just a m-minute.” He stuttered as a few aftershock pulses of pleasure from his climax hit him, even more cum somehow finding its way out of the head of his cock and into his lap.

“Oh!” You seemed a little confused by how out of breath he was, but thank god, you laid back down anyway. Good girl, Caleb thought, grateful that you had listened to him for once. “Okay, well, I’ll see you in a minute. Hey, thank you for getting me these shorts! They just arrived in the mail today, they’re so cute and comfy.”

“Oh, y-yeah pipsqueak, I didn’t notice, I’m glad you l-like them!” He called back, already hobbling away down the hall. The mess was sliding down his thighs and quaking knees. “But I heard it’ll be cold tonight, s-so make sure you put some real clothes on before you go anywhere.”

“But Caleb, it’s summer—”

But he didn’t hear. He had already scurried off to hide in his room where he could clean up the cum he’d spilled in your honor for the thousandth time.

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[mossiestpiglet]

I think ascribing it to age or experience on other sites is maybe the wrong place to start. If the subject is “why don’t people respond more?” the first aspects to look at are people who are want to converse and are here for that vs people who don’t and aren’t. There is a conflation in this thread between being able to converse well and wanting to converse and also being here for the purpose of conversing. I can have deep and challenging conversations til the cows come home, but that’s not what I came here for initially and not what I want to do when I come back. I came here for sharing funny and interesting things and for making my own posts, and while I certainly converse more than I did initially it is still all based on whether I will find it fun enough or beneficial enough to others to justify the effort expended. I cannot speak for people who might want to converse more but are scared to because of backlash, because I have different reasons for not wanting to respond.

Additionally, I feel an added pressure to articulate myself as clearly as possible if I talk in a reblog, where if its in the tags who gives a shit. So it takes more effort to do this, and I don’t come here when I want to expend effort. I’m here to chill. Articulating myself badly and then having to clarify later would just be more effort and more time spent talking to people when, again, that’s not really the kind of entertainment I am here for. Any response invites more response, which would be more effort for me, so I every time I debate whether it is worth it to participate (I’m literally right now debating just deleting what I have written) because what if I get a response? And then have to respond to that too? It’s fine if it’s fun to talk about, but why would I want to be locked into a conversation which is stressful — or worse, boring.

I’m not concerned with getting yelled at or hate because it’s tumblr that happens anyway even if I only make original posts or reblog things without saying anything. It’s all about whether it is fun enough to justify the effort, and it usually isn’t. It’s not a lack of ability or a fear of reprisal, it’s just having different goals in being here.

(None of this is to say I resent people who respond to my posts or reblogs, though I understand how it sounds like that. There is nuance, but I am intentionally trying to not edit myself as much as I can stand because if I try to refine it too much I just won’t respond at all, which illustrates my point but only to me.)

This is probably because I am Internet Old (41 years of age)

And because I grew up with message board/forum/blog/LJ culture...

but it seems like many younger people do not want to converse; that any response other than 'THIS' - anything that reflects, responds, adds, comments upon, etc a post is seen as adversarial/disagreement.

I'd love to have a conversation about this trend, especially as it relates to tumblr, which USED to be a much more conversational website than it currently is.

replies vs. reblogs definitely exacerbated this hugely; the tiktokification of 'person who creates content' and 'person who consumed that content' rather than 'human beings having a conversation'.

[hoon1sm]

␥# all mine . ᐟᐟ☆~ p. sh

[ word count : 2.2k + of pure filth MDNI ]

[ tags + warnings : sunghoon x inexperienced virgin fem!reader, heavy corruption kink, sunghoon is kind of toxic and perverted in this, teasing, petnames, praise and degradation, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, very slight dubcon, power dynamics, kind of open ending ]

don’t like, don’t read

a/n : this concept started haunting me the moment i listened to the lyrics on the english version of bad desire and then i just kind of wrote this entire monstrosity in one sitting… i promise the next thing i post will be another request! written and edited by me so i apologize if there are mistakes !! comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💗

from the moment he saw you, he knew he would do anything to make you his. everything about you was pretty. from the way your hair was tied up with a bow, to the white lacy dress you were wearing, to the shiny lipgloss on your pouty lips, to the sparkly pink eyeshadow matching with your lip color. all of it just accentuated how innocent you looked. and he was going to be the one to ruin you.

he knows he is goodlooking, so of course it’s easy for him to weave his way into your life. he meets you in the library first. presenting himself as a caring and friendly studying partner and later on becoming a friend, always willing to listen whenever you need someone to confide in. he starts coming over to your place more and more frequently, insisting that cuddling while watching a movie is a perfectly fine thing for two friends to do. he always makes sure to touch your soft skin, grazing his fongertips along your waist or hips absentmindedly after very carefully moving your shirt up a little.

“sunghoon… i think… i need your help?” now that is odd. not the fact that you’re asking him to help you with something, but your hesitation in asking has him paying closer attention. he turns his head slightly to look you in the eyes, you’re so close it’s hard for him not to imagine rolling over on top of you, pushing up your loose sleep shirt, pulling your panties to the side and taking you right here in your own bed, movie be damned. but, he is a sensible man and he can control himself. of course.

“you know you can ask me anything, right?” he purposely lowers his voice a little, taking note of the way you’re shifting uncomfortably, hands busy picking at the bedsheets you’re lying under. you’re clearly nervous about something.

you cast your eyes down, embarrassed. “well, it’s just… recently i went out with hayeon and my other friends, right?” he nods his head, and starts drawing little circles on your shoulder with his thumb in an attempt to comfort you. “well, so, like… god, this is embarrassing.” you take a deep breath before continuing. “but, like, they were all talking about their boyfriends, and then somehow we wound up at the topic of me being still a virgin, and that sort of spiraled into them making fun of me for it, and so i guess my question to you is would you please be my first?”

fuck. is he dreaming? you’re finally asking him to ruin your innocence forever?

“…excuse me?”

your reaction is immediate. pulling away from his hold, taking his surprise as rejection. avoiding his eye contact, cheeks burning red in shame. “nevermind, forget i asked.” you mumble. “you should probably go now, or whatever.”

he pulls you back down from where you were attempting to stand up off the bed, his hands circling your wrists. “look at me,” he demands. you look up at him again. fuck, you’re so gorgeous. the tears welling up in your eyes from embarrassment are not helping him either. “are you sure you want this with me?” because even if it’s everything he’s been waiting on, he wants to make sure you are ready for this.

you blink away your tears and nod, looking a little more confident. “there’s no one i trust more than you, hoonie.” and just the sound of your voice speaking his name like that has him feeling weak already. this is finally happening. he finally has you where he’s wanted you all along.

it’s all he can take before he lets go of your wrists, tilts your head slightly by grabbing your neck and moves in to kiss you. he’s forceful from the start, immediately noting how truly inexperienced you are even in something as simple as kissing. you’re perfect for him. he licks his way into your mouth, moving one of his hands into your hair and pulling just a little bit, relishing in the soft moan you let out at the sensation. oh, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

he breaks away first, leaving you chasing his lips while trying to catch your breath. so cute. his hands feel at the hem of your shirt. he hesitates, raising his eyebrows and silently asking for your permission to take the garment off. “please,” comes your response and fuck, he’s really straining in his pants now from hearing you beg like that. he pulls off your shirt gently, and lays you down on the bed, hovering over you after taking off his own t-shirt and shorts. he catches you glancing down at his boxers, your eyes widening and your mouth slightly agape. he smirks. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. we’ll go slowly,” he promises, at first is what he thinks after.

and shit he really wishes he could take a picture of you like this. looking at him with so much trust, still looking so perfectly innocent in your matching set of white lacy underwear. and fuck, is that a thong you’re wearing? he’s gonna lose his mind. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart. been thinking about this for a long time,” he confesses. he hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but it slips out anyway. the way you smile at him so sweetly upon hearing this makes it worth it though.

he starts off slow, attaches his lips to your neck and busies himself with sucking pretty marks into your skin. now that he has you, he’s gonna make damn sure everyone knows that you’re his. you’re responsive to everything, letting out breathy noises each time he grazes his teeth against your skin, revealing once again how little experience you have doing this.

“sunghoon…” god. your voice sounds wrecked already and he has barely done anything yet. “what is it baby?” he asks. the petname slipping out easily. “can you…” your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment, but he’s quick to grab your wrists together in one of his hands and pins them above your head instead. you’re completely at his mercy now. “don’t hide from me, pretty girl. and use your words.”

“hoonie,” you all but whine. “please… please just- please touch me?” and fuck, he’s imagined this scenario about a million different times in the privacy of his own room with his cock in his hand, but nothing could come close to hearing you say those words to him in real life.

“yeah baby? want me to touch you and make you feel good?” he brushes his fingertips over the top of your panties, and you whine again. you sound so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. so he lets go of your wrists, hooks his thumbs under the band of your underwear and pulls down, groaning at the sight of the string of slick connecting to your cunt. your panties are absolutely ruined, soaked with your wetness. those are definitely never gonna end up in your closet again, they are his now. “fuck. pretty girl you’re so wet for me already.” your cheeks burn red at the praise. but he pays attention to the way your expression turns brighter. noted. “gonna be my good little girl, hmm?”

he’s committed to drinking in every little expression that flits across your face as he brings his fingers up to your core and gently rubs across your slit, careful to not push in yet. you’re gasping so prettily, but your eyes turn darker, pupils blown wide with lust as your hands reach up to pull him in for another kiss.

he lets you make out with him for a while, before finally curling one of his fingers into your sopping hole. you pull away with a moan.

“need to stretch you out a bit before you can take my cock, baby. ‘cute little hole can barely fit one finger.” you’re panting now, letting out pretty noises everytime he moves his digit and he briefly wonders if you could come just from one finger alone. but the way you’re moaning at his actions paired with the sight of you has him so painfully hard that that will have to be a theory to test out next time. at the moment he’s overwhelmed by how much he needs to be inside of you, needs to mold your insides to fit the shape of his cock.

“gonna add another now,” he informs you as he stretches your hole to fit two of his fingers. suddenly you arch off the bed, eyes wide. “sunghoon- hoonie- gonna…if you keep going i’ll-”

“shh baby, sunghoonie’s got you. just let go for me pretty girl.” he continues moving his digits expertly, rubbing your clit with his thumb. you look gorgeous as you reach your orgasm, eyes screwn shut, fists grasping at the bedsheets, your mouth open and letting out the prettiest noise he’s heard from you yet. “there you go, sweetheart. so pretty for me. my good girl.”

he lets you come down from the wave of pleasure before pulling out his fingers. he makes a split-second decision and holds his hand up in front of your face. you blink up at him in question and it makes you look so cute and innocent again, even though he just made you come on his fingers and is about to shove them down your throat. “why don’t you clean my fingers off nice and good for me, sweetheart?”

you’re so obedient in your post-orgasm daze, immediately opening up your mouth and sucking in his fingers so sweetly. he presses down on your tongue and pretty tears spring up in your eyes again as you gag. his self control is wearing extremely thin at this point, he needs to make you cry on his cock right now.

he pulls away and takes off his underwear in one swift motion. “gonna fuck you now, pretty girl.” he rasps out, his own voice straining from how aroused he is. “gonna make you mine.” he rubs his cock between your folds and it has you both gasping from the sensation.

“wait,” you start. he raises an eyebrow, but continues moving. “sunghoonie wait. shouldn’t we use a condom?” and it’s cute. cute how responsible you still manage to be in a situation like this. but he needs you to be his in every way possible. “baby it’s gonna feel so much better without one. don’t you want to feel good?” his tip catches on your hole as he moves it between your slit again, and he pushes in. “besides, you’re on the pill right?” he has half a mind to hope you won’t question why he knows that information, but from the way your hands are pulling at him to move closer, he gathers you’re probably too far gone by now.

“hurts,” you whine as he slowly drags his cock along your walls, pushing in a little further with each stroke. “i know it hurts, pretty girl, but it’s never gonna fit otherwise.” your eyes are watering again, and something in him just snaps. his thrusts become harsher as he speeds up, reveling in the tears that now run down your face at the sensation.

“taking me so well, baby. it’s gonna feel good soon, sunghoonie promises.” your hands are clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. your voice sounds broken at this point as you lose yourself in the pleasure, and it’s beyond what he’d imagined. but fuck, sunghoon is a greedy man and he needs more.

your eyes fly open in shock as he loosely wraps a hand around your neck, effectively covering the bruises he’d left there earlier. your hands come up to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. interesting. you truly are exactly what he was hoping for, all his to ruin forever. “love this don’t you, sweetheart?” he makes sure to keep eye contact with you, hovering over you as he takes in just how much power he has over you right now. “gonna make you my perfect little slut. all mine. all for me.”

he doesn’t apply pressure with his hand, it is your first time after all, but he lets it sit there, lets you get used to the weight of it. and you look so pretty, laid out on your own bed for him in the most sinful way, with your bra still on, but his cock moving in and out of your tight little hole. exactly how he’s wanted you from the beginning.

“please hoonie… i’m yours. all yours.” he’s close to coming too, and you’re not making it easy on him by sounding so pretty. still, he is a gentleman and wants you to come first. he brings his hand down between you again and finds your clit with his fingers. it only takes him a few more strokes before you’re moaning brokenly, eyes squeezing shut as you orgasm once more. he looks down to where you are connected and the sight of you coming around his cock, so tight and so wet is enough to make him come too. he rides out his own high then carefully pulls out.

fuck. this is why he needed to fuck you raw. the sight of his cum mixed with yours spilling out of you is almost enough to get him hard again, and his head spins a little with the rush. he’ll have to buy you a plug someday, this shouldn’t be going to waste like that. but that can wait. right now he’s concerned with taking care of you.

he is quick to wipe the tears off your face. your pretty is makeup ruined in the best way possible. “it’s okay baby. did so well for me, pretty girl. all mine, huh? my little slut?”

[the-meme-monarch]

my delatrune 3&4 live-blogging And Also expanding on thoughts Here bc I tried to keep it vague there

so spoilers ofc

img 1 i was reacting to ciblesGD’s stream of chapter 3, img 2 i was watching someone from the server streaming chapter 3(plasticscentedoppossums but I’m not sure she’d want me to tag her), and img 3 i was again watching ciblesGD’s stream, of chapter 4 this time :]

susie’s talk about how even if ralsei’s not real their friendship still Is and she’ll never forget him and That’s Real. guy who just came back from friendship test hmmm im getting friendship test vibes from this

also what ralsei was talking about with finally wanting to discover who he is outside of the prophecy. getting to figure out who he is as a person outside of his servitude to the lightners and the legend. this is literally what capsei is built on btw

also sorry but I still like my tenna design more. i just think what i came up with is more clever. my big butch rabbit centaur lady could kick that giant twink’s ass. I’m sure I’ll learn to like canon tenna’s design, i already like his personality ! also idk if there’s any dialogue disproving this but i think it’d be fun if spamton and tenna were brothers :’] with how they already look so physically similar and honestly act similar, and then also their hatred of each other. also i want more darkners who are family. still literally only chapter 1 has given us canon Related characters, being spades king and lancer as father and son and clover as sisters

also sorry but I’m a little disappointed that chairiel wasn’t a Character. it was just toriel’s throne. you literally Named this chair and then it didn’t get to be a Person. it wasn’t even alive like he couch was. chairiel couldve been like. working for tenna as a Guard for toriel as she slept or something. and then toriel and undyne were There but barely did anything. I don’t think I liked chapter 3 that much. ☝️I still like it A Lot but it is at the bottom of the list for favorite chapters I think. besides those nitpicks it also just kinda felt like it was dragging on with the game show, which I think was Purposeful, but still

⬆️the guys. the streamer did not talk to them so I don’t know what they say and my heart hurts over it but they’re here. look at the,m it’s the sweet capn cakes

DONT THINK I DIDNT FUCKINB SEE THAT? DONT THINK I DIDNT FUCKING SEE THAT KRIS IN THE CLOSET? DONT THINK I DDINT SEE HOW YOU COVERED IT WITH THE HEART PILLOWS? if there ends up being an innocent explanation for this my guess is it’s just a dummy of kris that they made and used to scare noelle and dess Confiscated it. but hmmm awfully suspicious they hid it under the heart pillows so we couldn’t get a proper look at it.

also I’m absolutely adoring how kris is getting more of their own Voice and actions through, putting the stickers on susie, pouring the fruit juice in her mouth and her theirs, them lawnmower holding her by the legs to eat the snacks off the tray. and their dialogue choices seem to be loosening up more, to be more specific in what they will be saying, like the way you (can) tell ralsei “I want you to be yourself dude”, to father alvin “awesome sermon my man” again to raslei “park your butt mister” how they get you to relinquish control to play the piano, how they finally hug(?) ralsei of their own volition (it might not have been a hug actually, I didn’t get a screenshot and I haven’t gone back to look, so maybe they just crouched down to put a hand on his shoulder, idr)

and the playing as the SOUL segment was so fun. noelle and susie getting to actually spend time together, kris in the kitchen making chocolate milk i think. kris Beating the SOUL back to keep it from the guitar.

Carol.

ALSO knight chara theory might as well be dead Oh Wells I didn’t really expect to be right anyway i just thought it’d be neat. sorry knight papyrus and knight alvin fans except the ones of you who were mean to me about knight chara. upon seeing the roaring knight I did think it was dess, it still very well could be but I began thinking it was carol, with kris being on the phone talking smth about ‘the next fountain’ and then saying susie got the guitar and the voice saying “I’ll be right there” and then carol showing up even though noelle said she’d still be at work for a while. the knight and the voice on the phone who is probably definitely carol could be different people but idk that was just my leap in logic

ALSO GERSON. FUCK. i was So hoping to know how a dust covered burial object would work in the dark world and im so happy it was answered, i figured it might be but I didn’t think it’d be In The Church, I thought it’d be like a ‘too many fountains were opened and now the Outside is becoming a dark world (and therefore the objects in the graveyard)’ situation. also no I don’t believe ralsei is an object with asriel’s dust. when he’s downed it calls him “a pile of fluff”, no mention of dust. however I think this debunks red horn headband and green crayon theory. my funny joke theory: ralsei is a clump of asriel’s fur from a hairbrush

⬆️this was fucked

⬆️this was also fucked

anyway this is literally how these chapters left me (positive)

i did literally have to take two headache medicines at different points while watching these chapters

[simplybakugou]

Story Mode 6 | Mystic Academia: Sero Hanta's Route

⋆ PAIRING: hacker!sero x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: slight angst; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 447

A/N: grades dropped today so i have officially finished my first year of law school WOOO. i had a long process of moving back home for the summer and working at a new summer law job i got BUT things have settled down so i am finally sitting down and finishing this route! I’ve finally outlined the rest of the series so now to write/edit it all out! i am aiming to finish this route before i go back to school in late august hehe

NOTE: credits to @eraserhead-transparents for the sero cap

Mystic Academia: Sero Hanta's Route Masterlist

“Sero?” You called out from the first floor of the office. Sero had just abruptly left the chatroom after wanting to talk to you, leaving you, Bakugou, and Kaminari, who were still in the chatroom, confused.

Sero emerged from the second floor, descending downstairs. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking at you so intently that you stood up from your makeshift bed on your couch.

“Why did you defend me in there?” Sero asked calmly.

You blinked a few times in confusion before letting out a dazed, “What?”

“I said why did you defend me in there? In the chatroom?” Sero repeated, taking a few steps towards you as he spoke. “Bakugou and Kaminari had every right to be upset with me for not telling them about the break in.”

“Well I said it in the chatroom, didn’t I? You’re the reason why I’m safe, Sero,” you reiterated.

Sero let out a breathless laugh, looking at you, baffled. “I don’t get you, Y/N. I’ve been mean to you and I’ve been pushing you away and you’re still giving me kindness that I don’t deserve.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You do deserve kindness, Sero. You can’t say that when you’ve been protecting everyone at M.F.A. with your security systems in the app and in person and protecting me and the office without asking for anything in return. That isn’t a person who doesn’t deserve kindness.”

You paused. “Plus I could tell you were pushing me away on purpose. That’s why I kept pestering you… Sorry if it was annoying.”

Sero laughed this time. “I don’t think you could ever be annoying. Not when you can read me like a book when we haven’t even known each other that long.”

You smiled, happy that Sero was finally laughing. It was probably the first time his face lit up in the past two nights. “You can stop punishing yourself now, Sero. You didn’t do anything to warrant punishment.”

Sero was once again amazed and baffled by you. How could you be so understanding? How could you not blame him after almost getting kidnapped? You only knew Sero for almost a week; how could you be so forgiving?

Sero didn’t realize that when he was caught up in his thoughts, his eyes began to tear up. As he began to attempt to blink them away before you could see, it was too late. Taking notice of the tears, you reached up and enveloped him in your embrace. Sero finally relaxed for the first time since the break in. 

You felt so warm and he melted in your arms, wrapping his own arms around you.

JOIN THE TAGLIST

[evilbihan]

Bi-Han's fate - Pt.1

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical gore and violence, mentions of depression and s*icidal thoughts.

Disclaimer: I decided to write this after hearing MK1 has officially come to an end because I believe Bi-Han and his brothers deserved a better ending than what we've seen in the story mode. This is just me sharing my thoughts on how the story should have ended. It's purely written for entertainment purposes. I don't plan to upload it to ao3 as I don't have an ao3 account, but if someone wants to share it there, they have my permission and encouragement. All I ask is that you credit me. If anyone in this fandom is still alive, feel free to leave feedback. Also this shouldn't even need to be said, but don't reblog this with weird ship tags. The pairings that are canon in MK1 will be canon in this fic too (Bi-Han x Sektor, Kuai Liang x Harumi etc.)

Summary: Despite his best attempts to cure Bi-Han of the dark magic corrupting his soul, Liu Kang finds himself at a loss of what to do when he discovers that the former grandmaster has lost all his will to live and won't accept the help offered to him. By reuniting him with his brothers, Liu Kang hopes to save Bi-Han's life, but when haunting secrets surface, not even the fire god can forsee what happens next...

He doesn't remember dying, not in the way one would expect with a death that came to him so violently.

His final moments are a blur, too fleeting for him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment it happened. One second he can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage and – for the very first time in his life, fear – and the next that heartbeat is gone, silenced forever. Though hours pass before that happens. Reality becomes distorted. His head spins, ears ringing from the sound of his own screams echoing off the stone walls, his stomach lurches, sickened by the stench of his own blood, sweat and bile leaking out of his body, dripping and staining the wooden contraption he is strapped to. With gruesome precision, lines are etched into his skin. Needles drilling into flesh, piercing it, tearing it open. Agony. A pain so excruciating that no amount of screaming can bring relief. He drifts in and out of consciousness. Through some stages of it he's more awake than through others. The torture seems never-ending, the pain relentless, unlike anything he's ever felt before. The droning of the drills turns into laughter, mocking him with painfully familiar voices.

He remembers seeing his brothers in a memory of earlier days.

Books stack up in front of him, their pages yellowed with age. Father wants them transcribed before dinnertime. He hasn't even made it through half of them yet. His fingers hurt from holding the quill. Each character has to be perfect. Not a line too shaky, not a stain on the page. He knows what awaits him if he doesn't finish the work in time. His brows knit together as he tries to focus, but the noise outside keeps distracting him. Laughter. Humming, drilling, laughter. Lifting his head, he glances out the window and catches a glimpse of Kuai Liang and Tomáš in the yard, chasing each other in a game of tag.

They look happy without him.

The memory doesn't fade, it is torn from him as more skin gives way beneath the drills. Bi-Han tastes blood. Feels the urge to vomit as something tears at his insides. He looks down at what used to be his chest, now a repulsive mass of dead, discolored flesh and bright, oozing green. Disease. His once dark blue Lin Kuei uniform is no more. Bloodied strips of fabric dangle from his body, some of the cloth sewn into his skin and flesh. When the torment ends and they finally release him, they bring him new clothes and he wears them obediently. His fists clench in silent rage at the memory.

When he doesn't think of what happened, he dreams of it.

With every fiber of his being, Bi-Han resents Liu Kang for sparing him. For robbing him of his vengeance. But most of all, for letting him live.

There is mercy and solace in death.

He grants that mercy to his enemies, a quick, dignified end, without humiliation or suffering.

Liu Kang has no such thing in mind for him.

Bi-Han stares at the plate on his bedside table, a meal long gone cold. He hasn't touched it yet and doesn't plan to do so. In his current state he does not need to eat. Liu Kang urges him to do so regardless, claiming that his stomach needs to get used to food again for when the dark magic currently coursing through his veins is permanently removed from his body.

He doesn't care.

He is no longer Sub-Zero. No longer the proud grandmaster of his own clan. Not feared, respected or admired. Sektor leads the Lin Kuei now. Perhaps it's for the better. After all, he had failed to lead his clan into the glorious future he had promised them. He is nothing now, a husk of his former self, stripped of all his glory. Whenever Liu Kang or any of his worthless lackeys come to check on him, examining his scars, applying ointment to them, he sees pity in their eyes. Each time, he wants to rip their spines out for it.

His body had become a coffin, trapping him alive. He won't regret what he is about to do.

Carefully, Bi-Han retrieves the ornate dagger from underneath his pillow. He had accquired it this morning when he met another one of Liu Kang's "projects". A demon from the Netherrealm. She had introduced herself to him as Sareena, sister of Ashrah and a former assassin for Quan Chi. Initially, Bi-Han had held little interest in speaking to her. He despised all Netherrealmers, demons and wraiths and other beings, anything that crawled its way up from these pits to cause suffering and discord among mortals. However, he came to recognize that Sareena is... different. There is something oddly human about her and the way she shows interest in even the most mundane things around her, eager to learn more about the mortal world, not in pursuit of absolution like her sister, but rather to find her own way in the world she was introduced to. It is easy for him to engage in conversation with her. She asks him many questions and he answers them with a patience he usually doesn't possess. It is only because she has something he wants. To his disgruntlement, Liu Kang seems to trust her enough to let her keep weapons on her. She carries a pair of sickles and a much more concealed dagger on her belt. That one, he figures, she will hardly notice missing. By the end of their conversation, he holds the dagger in his hand. At least, he can still take some pride in the fact that even in his current weakened state, Liu Kang fears him enough to not allow him to carry weapons himself. He doesn't want to consider the other option, that Liu Kang is concerned he would use them against himself.

Bi-Han had never been the kind of person to sit idle. It makes his captivity unbearable. He hates the treatment. Not because it's agonizing, he had endured far worse than that. He hates how humiliating it is when he gets sick, over and over and Liu Kang patiently wipes the sweat from his forehead, whispering reassuring words to him. He hates it when the fire god helps him rinse his mouth with water after he's done vomiting, holding the cup for him and lifting it to his lips because his shaking hands are too weak to allow him to do it himself.

He would rather endure the Netherrealm's torment than continue this useless existence.

A strand of hair falls over his eyes and he blows it out of his face angrily.

His hair had grown back. Not quite to the length it used to have before his demise, but long enough to allow him to tie it back again. However, some strands are still too short to fit into the bun and he hates to feel them brush against his face. The earlier stages had been even more vexing. He couldn't stand how short his hair had been back then. He must have looked ridiculous.

His skin is the color of ash now. His appearance far more human and yet not human enough. His teeth are no longer black with rot and his eyes had lost their eerie white glow. Even he had to admit that Liu Kang's work at restoring him was remarkable. Were it not for the scars across his body and the undead color of his skin, one would not know what he had gone through. The green was still there, the color darker and dull, but still visible enough to sicken him. Bi-Han still can't bear it to see his own reflection. He is broken now, like an old toy covered in ugly patches and stitch lines because its owner refused to part with it.

When he points the blade at his own heart, he finally feels like he is in control again. He feels powerful again. His fate is back in his own hands, where it always should have been. The choice is his now. Not Liu Kang's. Not anyone else's. Only his alone. And it was a choice already made two years ago, the very moment Liu Kang had cured his mind of Havik's influence.

Despite his determination, he's not entirely sure that this is going to work. After all, he is not completely cured yet. Maybe it would be wiser to wait longer, but he doesn't want to wait anymore.

Bi-Han is not a sentimental man.

He has no intention to say his goodbyes to anyone.

Still, a small part of him misses his brothers. He thinks back to the summers of their youth, thunder roaring outside as the three of them hugged each other tightly, huddling together for warmth and safetly like a litter of newborn cats. He had never been afraid of the thunderstorms himself, but he had been happy to provide comfort for his brothers. His mind wanders back to a sparring session against an older Lin Kuei warrior, Bi-Han expertly weaving through the attacks, dodging and side-stepping punches and kicks while his brothers watched from the sidelines, eager to learn from him. Although the other warrior had been taller than him, Bi-Han had ended up throwing him over his shoulder and off the mat with ease. When he had stepped back, his face red and chest heaving, he had noticed his brothers cheering loudly, waving their arms and shouting his name. As he had approached them, Tomáš had grinned widely. "I want to be as strong as you one day, brother."

Bi-Han had merely scoffed in response. "You would not be able to handle the harshness of our training."

He had watched Smoke's face fall, but had not bothered apologizing for his words. He hadn't said them out of cruelty or to discourage his youngest brother. Back then, Tomáš had simply seemed like he was not cut out to be a Lin Kuei warrior with his spindly arms that wouldn't grow an ounce of muscle no matter how much food he scarfed down at dinner. It had taken him far longer to accquire the physique Kuai Liang and him possessed. But ultimately, he had caught up with them, his skills now matching theirs and perhaps, to some point, even exceeding them. Tomáš had truly become the warrior he had always wanted to be. Bi-Han knows it means nothing now, but he is proud of his brother. He wishes he could have told him that.

He knows he had been wrong to understimate Tomáš back then.

He had been wrong about many things.

His Lin Kuei training had taught him not to fear death. Still, it requires all his willpower to follow through with what he has planned. There is still a part of him, shockingly human, that doesn't want to perish. Is it not within the very instinct of every living thing to preserve itself? Even the most primitive beings desire to live. Today, he finds out he is no different. He looks back on all his failures, the bridges he had burned, the sacrifices he had made in vain... All to achieve nothing. The Lin Kuei were not stronger for it. Would Sektor be able to free them and lead them to greatness? Bi-Han wants to believe so. He knows Sektor is strong, a more than capable leader, ressourceful and brilliant. If anyone can do it, it's her.

The tip of the blade cuts into his skin, but draws no blood, only oily black liquid.

He despises what he is now. A creature of nightmares that shouldn't exist. The reminder of what he has turned into encourages him to push the blade in deeper. His mind barely registers the pain. The dagger slides effortlessly through muscle and flesh. Black blood streams down his hands. He doesn't want to waste his final moments thinking of the people who betrayed him and yet their images come alive in his mind.

Regret, buried so deep within him, it is easy for him to fool himself into believing he feels none at all.

The edges of his vision darken. His hands slip off the dagger's hilt.

If there is an afterlife, perhaps he will see his mother again...

The corners of his mouth lift into a smile as he finally embraces the coldness of death.

-

He hears the snap of a bone and a scream that follows.

"Hold him down!", someone commands.

The words make him panic. Suddenly, he is tied to the wheel again, hostile faces grinning down at him, mocking his suffering. He struggles with all the strength he has. His elbow connects with something soft and he hears a pained gasp. However, the tight grip on his shoulders doesn't loosen. He tries to kick his feet. Another sharp hiss of pain. His right leg is free now. He tries to throw himself against the hands pinning him down. Desperate. Furious.

"Bi-Han! Stop!" A voice, sharp and familiar, cuts through all the noise around him.

His eyes fly open wide and stare right into Liu Kang's concerned face.

Surrounding him are healers, some of them holding injured limbs. It takes him a moment to understand he is the one who injured them. He tries to sit up, but the attempt is cut short by a stabbing pain piercing his chest, paralyzing him. A growl, low and threatening, escapes his throat. It is coming back to him now. What he did... What he had failed to do...

He is still alive. Still imprisoned in this rotten body. In this temple.

"Are you aware of what you have done? You undid months of progress in your recovery."

He wants to laugh. Does Liu Kang still expect him to care? He has no one and nothing to return to. He's powerless now, declawed like a cat and turned into a pet for the fire god. A lap dog, as Shao had worded it. Liu Kang doesn't sound angry as he scolds him. Instead, there is an undertone of sadness in his voice, a hint of disappointment maybe. It only enrages Bi-Han more.

"You said that you would cure me", he snaps.

"It takes time, Bi-Han", Liu Kang responds calmly. With a nod, he dismisses the healers and takes a seat at his bedside. Only now, Bi-Han notices the bandages wrapping around his chest. Liu Kang follows his gaze and sighs.

"You were fortunate to have missed your heart by a few inches. Otherwise, not even my powers could have brought you back." The fire god pauses and meets his eyes. „Is that what you wanted?"

Bi-Han scowls. "I have lost my cryomancy and my shadow magic."

"Your cryomancy can be brought back. As for your shadow magic, it was corrupting you. It had to be removed."

He narrows his eyes at Liu Kang. "It made me deadlier. Is that why you removed it? Because you feared it?"

"Because it was destroying your soul, Bi-Han", Liu Kang explains patiently. He sounds like a father talking to his stubborn son now, stern, yet forgiving. It makes Bi-Han livid.

Silence follows. Bi-Han gazes out the window to avoid Liu Kang's eyes. He watches petals fall and trees sway gently in the breeze. He loathes this place almost as much as he misses the Arktican cold.

"Do you know why I stopped working with Shang Tsung?", Bi-Han asks. "I have seen the flesh pits. The twisted experiments these sorcerers conduct there. I knew I wanted no part of it."

Liu Kang nods understandingly. "You don't need to tell me that. I am aware that there is still good inside you."

"You misunderstand me." Bi-Han turns to face the fire god, glaring at him as though his hatred alone could pierce Liu Kang's heart. "This place reminds me of them. You and Shang Tsung have much more in common than you think. Keeping captives to experiment on. Mutilating others to fit your own design. So many similarities..."

Satisfied, he watches Liu Kang's perplexed expression.

"If you want to anger me, Bi-Han, save your energy. It won't work. You ran out of weapons, so you try to use your vile tongue against me. I advice you to get some rest instead." Liu Kang's voice sounds colder now, despite his attempts to seem calm and collected.

Bi-Han knows he found a weakness.

"I know why you're doing this", he continues. "You expect me to fall to my knees in gratitude and become your servant once again."

"I expect no such thing from you, Bi-Han. After you're cured and as long as you don't threaten the peace in this timeline again, you are free to go wherever you please."

"How generous of you", Bi-Han spits.

What is he supposed to go back to? The clan led by another that no longer needs him? His brothers who had turned their backs on him?

Liu Kang slowly stands up. "How soon you leave this place, is up to you, not me, Bi-Han. With your actions today, you have only prolonged the time you have to spend here."

"Why are you doing this?", Bi-Han growls. He doesn't understand why Liu Kang is so desperate to save him, to keep him alive at all costs. As some sort of punishment? Because he still believes he can force the Lin Kuei to surrender?

"Because Earthrealm still needs you", the fire god responds as if he had been reading his thoughts.

Bi-Han raises an eyebrow. "What for? I no longer have my cryomancy."

Liu Kang shakes his head as if to dismiss his argument. "Earthrealm needs your courage. You already saved this timeline once. Whether you like it or not, you already are one of its champions."

"I don't want to be Earthrealms champion."

"And I didn't want to be a god", Liu Kang admits with a small, almost sad smile. "We don't choose our fate, Bi-Han. Even the most powerful beings cannot do that. Resist your fate and suffer or accept it and prosper. I can't make the choice for you." He takes a few steps towards the door as if to leave, then stops and turns around again. "What you did today has proven that you are still unstable. I allowed you to roam the temple grounds and speak to others because I believed it would lift your spirits. I didn't want you to feel like a prisoner. Despite of what you may think, you are not being held captive here. And yet, you have abused my hospitality by looking for ways to cause further harm. Therefore, I have no other choice but to confine you to your quarters until you see reason. I am very sorry about that."

Bi-Han sits up straight, not caring if he's going to tear open his stitches.

"Confine me?", he hisses. "Why not just kill me? If I get my cryomancy back, I will use it to tear out your heart."

Liu Kang looks entirely unimpressed. "Your threats don't scare me. I won't kill you. Empress Mileena and I have already decided on a better punishment for you. You will live and spend the rest of your life making ammends for the damage you've done to this timeline by aiding in its defense."

"And if I refuse?"

"I hope for your sake that it won't come to that."

With that, Liu Kang turns around and leaves him to the deafening silence of his room.

-

"I don't know what to do anymore, Geras." With a long, heavy sigh, Liu Kang sits down at the desk in his study, its surface cluttered with tomes and scrolls. For months, he had studied them, trying to find out as much as possible about the magic corrupting Bi-Han and how it could be removed, yet he still doesn't know all the answers. Healing the former cryomancer is a long and complex process, one that requiers patience and trust from both sides. Bi-Han had run out of that within the first month of being out of the magical coma Liu Kang had placed him in for his own safety. Transferring him here, where he had more company and people he could speak to other than him had given him hope that Bi-Han would recover faster, that he would recognize his good intentions. However, it seems like Bi-Han still considers him the enemy.

"Tell me what I should do to save him. Feed him against his will? Put him in chains, so he can no longer resist the treatment? He would only hate me more for that."

"I cannot tell you what you should do, Lord Liu Kang", Geras responds calmly. "But it appears to me he does not want your help."

"If I give up on him now, I will never earn his trust." Liu Kang doesn't think he will ever be able to earn it, but he doesn't say so out loud.

"May I offer my advice?"

"Please do, Geras."

„You have asked me to look into Bi-Han's past because you believed it would help you better understand his motivations. I have made some discoveries that I cannot yet share with you. However, I am convinced that reuniting him with his brothers is the best course of action right now. They are vital to his recovery. To ensure the peace in this timeline, his brothers must learn the truth.“

Liu Kang knows that Geras has a point. However, he's also aware of Scorpion's temper and the grudge he holds against his older brother. The last thing he wants is a reunion that will end in bloodshed. Not to mention, he doubts that Kuai Liang will be willing to help him heal Bi-Han.

Regardless, Liu Kang nods. He has no other choice but to do what Geras suggested. If it's the only way to save Bi-Han, it's well worth the risk.

"I understand what I must do next."

-

Tomáš used to wake up to a cup of tea by his bedside every morning. He doesn't know where it comes from, only that it's been like that for as long as he can remember. Whoever puts it there wakes up early, earlier than him even, and they somehow make it in and out of his room without disturbing his sleep. By the time he's awake, the tea is sitting there on his nightstand, still warm but no longer steaming, just the right temperature to drink, even on the rare days when he allows himself to sleep in, almost as if whoever leaves it there knows exactly when he's going to wake up.

Every morning, he finishes the cup before going downstairs to join his brothers for breakfast.

"Good morning, Bi-Han. Good morning, Kuai Liang."

He only ever gets one response. Bi-Han greets him with the usual scowl. Tomáš doesn't take it personally. His eldest brother rarely smiles. That scowl seems to be a lingering expression on Bi-Han's face. They eat in silence. Not the awkward, uncomfortable kind of silence, but rather the quiet appreciation of each other's company, a meal and drink shared among family, among brothers.

That cup of tea is always there to help him begin his day, always – until it isn't. Tomáš can't help feeling disappointed. Along with everything else familiar to him, that one constant in his life is now gone too. He knows it's ridiculous to be upset over something so small, but for some reason the smallest things are the ones that hurt the most. He misses his old room, he misses the shared meals with his brothers, when Kuai Liang would tell a joke and Bi-Han's face would light up ever so briefly, reminding them that somewhere underneath the cold, stern exterior of the Lin Kuei's grandmaster, their older brother who used to read bedtime stories to them and help them tie the knots on their uniforms, was still alive...

Until he wasn't.

He is almost grateful when a voice interrupts his thoughts.

"I am glad you accepted my invitation, Tomáš." Liu Kang leads him down a quiet hallway, only briefly stopping to turn around and give him a reassuring smile as though the fire god had sensed his uneasiness. It doesn't calm him, but he has no time to dwell on his conflicting emotions as Liu Kang continues on and rounds a corner.

Anxiously, Tomáš follows him. Even at this early hour, the temple is busy. Monks are sweeping the ground, carrying laundry, some gathering outside in the yard for their training, the sound of wooden staffs clashing reduced to only a dull echo within the thick walls of the temple. It smells of spring blossoms and freshly cut grass. Normally, Tomáš finds comfort in the serenity of this place, but not today. Today, he will see Bi-Han again and he is not prepared to face him.

"I appreciate your trust in me, Lord Liu Kang, but I doubt that he wants to speak to me", Tomáš mumbles as they ascend a short staircase.

In all his years with the Lin Kuei, Tomáš cannot recall one occasion where Liu Kang had spoken to him directly. Maybe it was his new position as second in command of the Shirai Ryu that had finally convinced the fire god he was worthy of the same respect that was usually reserved for his brothers. Naturally, Tomáš was surprised when he received an invitation from Liu Kang. Addressed to him personally, not to Kuai Liang or their new clan. The letter didn't mention why he was being summoned, but he had assumed he was needed for a mission.

He shows the letter to Kuai Liang.

"It seems Lord Liu Kang might have an important task for you."

"For me?", Tomáš questions. "Even so, you're my grandmaster. Shouldn't he approach you with it first?"

Kuai Liang shrugs. "Lord Liu Kang must be aware that I'm busy training the new recruits. I can't leave the Shirai Ryu right now. I'm sure that you will do well on your own."

So, Tomáš packs a bag with only the necessities and leaves for the fire temple. It surprises him that Bi-Han was moved here from the Temple of the Elements. Maybe that means his recovery is going well, even though his conversations with Raiden so far have suggested otherwise. Whenever Raiden visits the Shirai Ryu to train with Kuai Liang, Tomáš asks about the progress of Bi-Han's treatment. Raiden knows disappointingly little about it, but from what he can gather, Bi-Han is doing everything in his power to complicate things for Liu Kang. Refusing help. Even going as far as to attack the healers.

Once again, he is pulled from his thoughts by Liu Kang's voice.

"I apologize for being so secretive in my letter. I feared you would not want to come had I mentioned why I need you here."

Tomáš raises his eyebrows. "And why is that exactly? You mentioned earlier that I am to see Bi-Han today."

Liu Kang nods. "Yes, you may indeed see him. I believe that having his family around would aid Bi-Han in his recovery. He seems... unwell lately." A short pause follows in which he seems to try to find the correct words to continue. "A few days ago, he injured himself."

The fire god must notice his worried expression because he quickly raises his hands in a soothing gesture. "He is safe right now. The injury was not life threatening. But I fear that Bi-Han had intended for it to be."

Tomáš doesn't know what to say, but he feels something deep within him ache at the thought. Bi-Han is the strongest and most resilient person he knows. Not just physically, but mentally too. The kind of person nothing can shake. Someone who never even considers giving up, even if all the odds are against him. If anyone out there can defeat even death itself, it's Bi-Han, the man Tomáš used to idolize and look up to almost all his life. He cannot imagine a world in which Bi-Han has given up. He doesn't want to.

"But why me? He hates me", Tomáš says quietly. "Maybe you should have asked Kuai Liang to come instead."

"I'm afraid Kuai Liang lacks the tactfulness needed in this situation", Liu Kang replies. "You seemed like the better choice."

"What about Sektor?"

"She is currently in charge of the Lin Kuei. If she were to leave, someone much worse might try to take control over the clan. We cannot take that risk."

"I see." Tomáš watches Liu Kang stop in front of a simple wooden door and gesturing towards it.

"You can go in whenever you're ready. I will wait for you here."

Tomáš nods, hesistantly lifts his hand and knocks. There is no response. He had expected none.

Slowly, he pushes down the handle and watches the door open.

Bi-Han is laying in bed, with his face turned towards the window. Only the back of his head is facing Tomáš, dark hair pulled up into a familiar low bun. He's dressed in the bright orange robes of the Wu Shi academy, an attire Tomáš would have never expected to see Bi-Han wear, but he figures it's out of necessity rather than choice. Bi-Han's senses have always been sharp. Surely, he must have heard the knocking and the sound of the door opening. Tomáš can tell he just doesn't care to turn around and see who came to visit him. At least, that gives him more time to look around. Not that there's much to see anyway. The room is almost empty, except for the bed and a small table next to it. A sheet had been thrown over what appears to be a mirror in the corner of the room. There are markings on the floor where furniture used to be. Judging by the lack of dust in the empty spots left behind, those furniture pieces must have been removed recently. He assumes it's to ensure Bi-Han won't use any parts of them to hurt himself. His heart becomes heavy at the thought. Despite everything, it saddens him to see his brother like this.

Awkwardly, Tomáš stands in the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Hello, Bi-Han. How are you feeling?"

It's the best he can come up with, even if he feels stupid for it. He regrets not having spent more time trying to come up with better words to say.

Bi-Han's head whips around so quickly it nearly makes him jump. First, his eyes widen in surprise, then they narrow in suspicion. "You!", he snaps. "You dare show your face here?"

Tomáš sighs. "I didn't come here to argue."

"If Liu Kang sent you, you might as well leave again." Bi-Han's voice is just as cold as he remembers, devoid of any emotion.

Although Tomáš had expected no other reaction, he can't help feeling disappointed that his brother already wants to send him away.

"We haven't seen each other in two years. This is how you greet me?"

"What's the proper way to greet a traitor?"

Tomáš sighs. Since he has no intention to leave yet, he shuts the door behind him and steps closer. There is nowhere to sit for him, unless he wants to sit on the edge of the bed and he's pretty sure Bi-Han will snap his neck if he dares to take a seat next to him.

He is surprised at how human Bi-Han looks now, compared to the last time they had seen each other. He is so nearly back to normal, back to how he used to be before his gruesome death. If one were to ignore the green mess of scars along his body, that is. Regardless, the treatment must be working well. Shouldn't Bi-Han be happy about that?

"You look healthier."

It's true, Tomáš thinks. Bi-Han's cheeks look sunken in and his skin is paler than he remembers it, but he assumes it must be due to the fatigue the treatment causes. He still looks a lot better than the last time Tomáš had seen him.

Bi-Han glowers at him. "Have you come to mock me?"

"What? No... Of course not", Tomáš stammers quickly. "I'm concerned about you. That's all."

"I don't need your concern. I'm fine."

"You seem unwell."

"Come closer then", Bi-Han hisses. "Perhaps a broken nose will prove you wrong."

Tomáš knows Bi-Han well enough to see through the empty threat. His brother had always been more bark than bite. Still, he doesn't want to take his chances, out of regard for Bi-Han's wellbeing, not his own. The last thing he wants is for Bi-Han to injure himself further trying to attack him.

"It's good to see you", Tomáš says sincerely. "I have wanted to speak to you for quite some time."

"Yet you didn't care to come earlier." Is that hurt in Bi-Han's voice?

"I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You assumed correctly."

"Kuai Liang and I have also been very busy building our new clan", Tomáš says against his better judgement. He feels like it's a mistake to bring that up to Bi-Han. If anything, it will probably anger him more, but he simply doesn't know what else to talk about. "You know how difficult it can be to find new recruits. We had to set up rooms for them as well."

"Have you also dug their graves?"

Tomáš sighs. "Bi-Han, please... It doesn't have to be like that. Our clans don't have to be at war with each other. Is that really what you want? Pointless bloodshed? Where will it end?"

"In your defeat or mine."

Exasperated, Tomáš pinches the bridge of his nose. He's too tired for this. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the Shirai Ryu at all. However, he feels like it's on him to keep the conversation going and he doesn't know how to do that when Bi-Han and him have so little in common. While he desperately tries to search his mind for another, better topic, Bi-Han's voice interrupts the silence.

"Why did you come here?"

"Because you're still my brother." Tomáš swallows past the painful lump forming in his throat. "You might have never considered me your brother, but you have always been family to me."

Bi-Han's eyes narrow. "And yet you disobeyed me and betrayed me."

"We didn't betray you. We never intended for any of this to happen", Tomáš argues. "What did you expect us to do when we heard that you let father die? How could you expect us to still trust you? Why, Bi-Han? Why did he have to die?" He hates how his voice cracks towards the end.

"Because he was a weak old fool", Bi-Han seethes. "He was ruining the Lin Kuei."

"If you had waited a few more years, you would have succeeded him naturally. Father didn't have to die. Why did you refuse to save him?"

Bi-Han falls silent. He looks away, out of the window again. Does he feel guilty? Does he regret what happened or does he care so little that Tomáš is merely boring him with his questions?

"Please, answer me." Tomáš doesn't care that he's begging. He wants answers, he wants to be able to understand his brother. "I came here, so we can talk. The least you can do is–"

"I didn't ask you to come here“, Bi-Han cuts him off harshly. „I owe you nothing."

"That is not what I meant!" Tomáš throws his hands up in frustration. "Can't you see that this is why we fell out? You never talked to us! You never told us about your ambitions. If you had spoken to us, perhaps we could have figured out a solution together."

"What difference would it make?"

"All the difference. Please, Bi-Han, I'm just trying to understand." Tomáš knows it's pointless to try and reason with his brother. Even Kuai Liang had never really managed to get through to him. How is he supposed to achieve that now?

"You and Kuai Liang left me", Bi-Han spits out bitterly. "I have nothing more to say to you."

"We never left you. It was you who banished us. We had no choice."

He gets no response. Tomáš lets out a sigh. "What happened to you, Bi-Han? You used to be kind once." Maybe Bi-Han just needs to be reminded of that. That he's capable of kindness. Maybe he just needs to keep talking. "I remember you staying up whenever Kuai Liang or I got sick", he trails off, involuntarely smiling at the memory. "You brought us soup and our favorite snacks, even when father scolded you for stealing from the kitchen. You were so generous and caring. What happened to you?"

Still no reaction. Bi-Han stares out the window. Tomáš doesn't know if he's zoned out or if his brother is ignoring him on purpose. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say and the reaction it might trigger.

"Liu Kang told me that you've hurt yourself."

Finally, Bi-Han turns his head to glare at him, his face twisted with barely contained rage. „It is none of your concern.“

"If you want to talk about it, we can–"

"Hold your tongue, Tomáš", Bi-Han growls. "I don't need your pity."

Tomáš shakes his head. They are getting nowhere with this.

Still, he's not willing to give up just yet.

"I know what it feels like to lose everything", he continues in a low voice. "To survive, but wish you hadn't. When my mother and sister died in front of me, I wanted to die with them. I didn't want to be spared. I was alive but I felt like my life had ended. But then I was taken in by father. I met you and Kuai Liang. I was given a family again. A second chance. Second chances matter, Bi-Han. Why are you trying to throw yours away? And why did you have to take mine from me?"

At his final sentence, Bi-Han looks up and for the first time, his eyes aren't cold like frozen ponds. They're no longer full of hatred or disdain. Perhaps he's imagining it, but he belives that Bi-Han looks almost sympathetic for a moment.

"You mentioned you have questions", Bi-Han says quietly after what feels like an eternity to him. So quietly, Tomáš nearly misses the words entirely. "Ask them."

This is progress, Tomáš tells himself. His brother is willing to talk now. Perhaps he is getting through to Bi-Han after all.

Tomáš swallows hard. "Why did you let father die?"

"I already told you. He was weak."

"That's it? You wanted him dead because he was weak to you?" Maybe that really is the sole reason for Bi-Han's actions. Tomáš doesn't know what other response he had hoped for. Something, anything, to at least help him understand why Bi-Han did what he did, so Tomáš can sympathize with him, even if he cannot forgive him for it.

"Because he was destroying the Lin Kuei", Bi-Han snaps. "Do you want to know why your family died?"

"Don't bring them into this."

Bi-Han ignores him. "It was because of father's failures. He made a mistake, sent out a group of inexperienced Lin Kuei novices on a mission they had not been trained for. He told them there were no civilians in that village, only members of a rival clan. They had orders to kill anyone they came across. Anyone who was armed." Bi-Han nods to the karambit at his side. "The intel he got was wrong. He... miscalculated, as he had put it. His miscalculation cost lives. The lives of your mother and sister and many others. It was not his first mistake and not the last one that caused people to die. Eventually, I understood he needed to be replaced."

Tomáš only stares at Bi-Han. He knows he should feel shock, anger, maybe even hatred, but he had buried those emotions a long time ago alongside the ghosts from the past. He knows that Lin Kuei warriors killed his family. Even if it's true and the former grandmaster was at fault for what happened, he hadn't killed his mother and sister intentionally and he had still taken Tomáš in.

"Don't pretend that you did what you did to protect innocent lives. Last time I checked, you were fine with using the soul stealers for your own gain, regardless of the cost."

Bi-Han scoffs. "I wanted to protect the Lin Kuei's reputation. Our legacy. All I ever cared about were the Lin Kuei. You're right, I didn't care about those lives. I didn't care that your family and the people in your pathetic village were slaughtered like wild beasts... They never mattered to me."

He says this with an almost gleefull expression and something inside Tomáš snaps.

He lunges at Bi-Han, but with impossible speed, Bi-Han dodges, grabs hold of him and throws him against the wall. He collides with it painfully, slides down and crumples to the floor. Suddenly, his mother's hunting knife is pointed at him, the cold steel pressing against his throat. He has no idea how Bi-Han had managed to disarm him so quickly.

"You were wrong, Tomáš. You don't know what it's like to lose everything. Allow me to show you." The knife in Bi-Han's grip begins to shake as green veins spread across the surface of the blade. He can almost hear the metal straining under the magic trying to eat its way into the material. Tomáš watches, his eyes wide in horror. The only thing he had left to remind him of his mother... And Bi-Han is about to destroy it.

"Bi-Han! Don't!", He begs. "Stop it!"

To his surprise, the advancing of the green veins pauses indeed, but they don't disappear fully.

Bi-Han watches him with raised eyebrows. "You want me to stop? Then kill me."

Kill him, a voice in the back of his head whispers. Do it.

A change comes over him. He can feel something in his mind shift, a toxic vapor obscuring his thoughts, taking control, so sudden and quick, he doesn't even have a chance to resist. His limbs move on their own as he rushes forward, grasping Bi-Han by the shoulders and slamming him down into the wooden bedside table. Splinters of broken furniture fly past him as the table shatters with the force of the impact. However, he's unable to hold Bi-Han down for long. A kick to his chest sends him flying backwards and knocks the breath out of his lungs. Even in his current state, Bi-Han possesses an incredible amount of strength. Tomáš doesn't want to fight or hurt him, but he finds himself no longer in control of his own body. He lunges at his older brother again, this time managing to wrestle his mother's knife out of his grip. The karambit clatters to the ground and slides across the floor. A punch lands in Bi-Han's gut, but he shows no reaction, no sign of pain. Another punch connects with his jaw. His older brother doesn't fight back. He makes no attempt to dodge or block the hits. Horrified by what is happening, Tomáš watches on, unable to do anything as he lives through one of his worst nightmares. He is attacking one of his brothers. Hurting him. Trying to kill him. In the back of his mind, he can feel the Enenra's influence on him grow stronger. He tries to fight back. He knows he has to resist somehow... He doesn't want to kill Bi-Han.

Suddenly, the door flies open and Liu Kang rushes into the room, followed by Geras who extends his hand, stopping time as Bi-Han is about to throw himself at him, hands shaped into claws like he wants to strangle him.

Tomáš finds himself unable to move either. In his head, the Enenra roars with fury, hating to be restrained. Finally, the fog in his mind clears, retreating for now. Were it not for the time freezing spell, Tomáš is convinced he would have collapsed on the spot.

"What is going on here?" Liu Kang looks at him first, then at Bi-Han.

Horrified, Tomáš notices the blood streaming down Bi-Han's chin. Had he broken his brother's nose? He almost hopes so as he thinks back to how Bi-Han had used his mother's knife to threaten him.

"Geras, let Tomáš go."

Finally, he's released. Tomáš falls down to his hands and knees, coughing as he reaches for the karambit. Across the room, he briefly meets Bi-Han's gaze. Hatred so deep burns within his brother's eyes, it causes Tomáš to shudder and look away first. Bi-Han might have been kind once, but there is no trace of that kindness left in him now. All Tomáš sees is malice and evil.

He stands up on shaky legs, wipes his sweaty palms on the trousers of his uniform and grips the hunting knife tightly as he stumbles away from the frozen image of Bi-Han. He looks down at his blade instead. It doesn't appear damaged as he inspects it. A wave of relief washes over him though it doesn't calm his anger.

"I want to leave", he chokes out.

"Please tell us what happened first." Liu Kang gently guides him out of the room, away from Bi-Han. Tomáš instantly feels better once the door closes behind them, even if only a little bit.

Once he no longer feels like he's suffocating, he tells Liu Kang about his conversation with Bi-Han, how his brother had threatened and provoked him and how the fight ensued... but the part about the Enenra possessing him, he keeps to himself.

"I'm sorry about what happened", Liu Kang says when he is done talking. "It is my fault. I should have known better... You should consider staying for the night to get some rest. Tomorrow morning, if you still wish to leave, I will open a portal to take you back home."

Tomáš hesitates to respond. Everything inside him is screaming at him to leave right now, to put as much distance between Bi-Han and himself as possible. He had been a fool to think he would be able to mend their bond, to guide Bi-Han back onto the path he strayed from, to save him. He is fully convinced now that Bi-Han is every bit the cruel and calculating monster everyone else makes him out to be. Using his family's keepsake against him. How could he?

"I'd rather leave now."

Liu Kang nods, his expression serious. "I understand and I won't stop you. However, if you leave now, I fear Bi-Han will not have much longer to live."

Tomáš feels guilty, but he can't find it in himself to care right now. Not after what happened today. But even then... There's still a part of him that wants his brother to live. He doesn't want to and yet he finds himself asking: "What do you mean?"

"He refuses to eat and he won't take the medicine I give him." Liu Kang exchanges a quick look with Geras before continuing: "I'm afraid his body won't last much longer."

Tomáš doesn't know how to respond to that, how to even feel about that. Bi-Han seems eager to continue down this path. He had chosen it for himself, all of this... No matter how much Tomáš wants to believe that his brother's soul can still be salvaged somehow, he knows better after today.

"I'm sorry, Lord Liu Kang, but you are wasting your efforts on him", Tomáš mumbles. "He is already beyond saving."

Behind him, Geras clears his throat. "If you want to leave immediately, Lord Liu Kang and I won't stand in your way. But since you came here already, allow me to show you something first. It will only take a few minutes."

Tomáš wants to protest, but he has a feeling Geras will insist and he already knows that arguing with the construct would be futile. At least, if he sits through whatever it is that Geras wants to show him, he can leave afterwards. "Alright", he says. "Show me."

-

They lead him to one of the temple's guest rooms and as the sand creates a canvas before him, images start to form in the mist, creating a scene from the past. The vision shows a younger Bi-Han, he is eighteen, nineteen maybe, his face not yet as stern as it is now. Back then, he used to wear his hair half up, the longer strands falling freely over his shoulders. His posture is tense, he seems troubled by something. Across from him stands a familiar figure. Xiaoqing, the Lin Kuei's master of arcane. The very man who had trained him and taught him the magic he wields today.

"This matter I asked you to look into... Do you have answers for me?", Bi-Han inquires, fingers tapping against the biceps of his crossed arms.

"Yes, Young Master, I was able to retrieve this from our archives." Xiaoqing hands Bi-Han a scroll. It looks old and brittle. Tomáš has never seen it before.

Bi-Han's frown deepens as he unrolls the scroll and scans the words written on the paper through narrowed eyes.

"Enenra... What is that? Some kind of... demon?"

"Beings from the Netherrealm.“ Xiaoqing points at something on the scroll. „They're particularly vicious and dangerous."

„What's the connection between them and Tomáš?"

"Enenra have the ability to possess or inhabit a mortal's body. His dreams might be a sign he has been chosen as a vessel“, Xiaoqing explains. „Perhaps it would be wiser to dispose of the threat right now. This is a serious matter. The grandmaster should be informed as well."

Bi-Han glares at him in response. „You will do no such thing. Father is a supersticious man. If he hears about this, Tomáš will be cast out."

"What do you propose instead, Young Master?"

There is a pause. Bi-Han's expression suggests he's weighing their options. „This will stay between us“, he finally decides, the familiar authority in his voice already present back then.

"But the grandmaster–"

"I will be the grandmaster one day", Bi-Han cuts him off sharply. "You would be best adviced to get used to taking your orders from me."

"Of course, Young Master."

"Can anything be done about the nightmares?"

Xiaoqing nods. "I have prepared a potion, like you instructed me to. The taste is subtle. If mixed with tea, it's barely noticable at all." He produces a vial and hands it to Bi-Han who quickly takes it and stores it inside the sleeve of his robe.

"Good. This should help suppress the Enenra's influence and keep his nightmares at bay. For now that's enough, but I expect you to find a permanent solution."

"I will do more research on this", Xiaoqing assures him.

"Do so descretely", Bi-Han responds. "I will not have harm come to either of my brothers, do you understand me?" With an imperious wave of his hand, he dismisses the master of arcane and the scene begins to dissolve into floating grains of sand.

Tomáš is too stunned to speak. His eyes feel wet as he blinks.

To either of my brothers... The words echo in his mind, they repeat, over and over.

Bi-Han had known about it. He had been aware of the Enenra's presence inside him all along. More than that, he had been trying to help him control it. This explains everything. Why his nightmares had returned after leaving the Lin Kuei. Why he had felt so unlike himself lately. Disoriented. Confused. Exhausted. Because he's no longer being given the medicine Bi-Han had the Lin Kuei's mages prepare for him.

You will regret leaving the Lin Kuei.

I advice you to return before it's too late.

All these things Bi-Han had said to him that he had brushed off as threats or attempts to intimidate him into surrendering had been warnings. Bi-Han had been trying to warn him...

Tomáš feels sick to his stomach.

The cup of tea he used to find by his bedside every morning... For the longest time he had assumed it was Kuai Liang who had placed it there for him. Not Bi-Han who barely spoke to him. Not Bi-Han who kept reminding him that his blood is not Lin Kuei.

"I... want to be alone", Tomáš hears himself say.

Liu Kang and Geras leave quietly. Tomáš is grateful for that. He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now. He slumps down on his bed, feeling overwhelmed and empty at the same time. He wants to go home, but he knows what will happen if he leaves. He cannot leave his brother. Not like this. Not after what he just witnessed. No matter how furious he is at Bi-Han, Tomáš doesn't want him to die. Bi-Han had saved and protected him from the darkness within him, in his own way, silently.

This time, Tomáš knows, it's his turn to save Bi-Han.

[svt-charlotte]

⋆˙⟡ I’M NOT SCARED OF LOVE

TIMELINE : 2017

SYNOPSIS : Charlotte believes that she’s “scared of love”, but is she really? Maybe she’s feeling a bit in denial, a strong emotion Charlotte will have to overcome to realize her true feelings for Joshua.

WARNINGS/TAGS : ANGST, tension, somewhat desperate!shua, lottie is lowkey unsure of what she wants, very dramatic confession scene, he falls first and harder ( I mean they both fall hard ), drunken confessions

📝 : first writing being released on this account so I hope you guys enjoy! I will be posting an instagram post from Charlotte that will correlate to this writing so do stay tuned for that! PLEASE send in requests of things you would like me to post! although I already have many ideas in my drafts, I’d like to hear your guys’ opinions on what I should write!

🎧 : Strong - One Direction

♯┆writings masterlist .ᐟ ★

It started with the glances─ the glances at Charlotte that Joshua thought were discreet. Deep down Joshua knew that he was being anything but.

He couldn’t help it though, Joshua was in love with her. And he’d known since the moment he’d first made eye contact with Charlotte.

He was smitten by her, I mean who wasn’t? How could he not be when she stared at him with those eyes, and smiled at him with that smile─ it’s impossible really.

Oh, and Joshua had made it known that he was in love with Han Chaerin. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore. Joshua held the door for her, bought her favorite snacks, and even hugged her when she was sad. He was sure that everyone on planet Earth knew it.

Everyone except Charlotte herself.

Or maybe it was the denial kicking in. Chaerin refused to come to the realization that she was just as in love with Joshua as he was with her even though deep down she knew that she had fallen for him.

It was the small minuscule things that Charlotte loved, like when he held the door open for her, or when he bought her snacks because she was on her period, or his warm and comforting hugs that he’d only give her. But Joshua was ever so the gentleman so there was no point in thinking that he had any interest in her when he probably did those gestures like they were habits. He had just seen her as a close friend or maybe even his coworker.

Charlotte had planned to keep the “unknown” feelings she felt to herself. And all had gone according to plan… until tonight.

Today had been one out of not many of the days where the members were able to do whatever they desired to do. Per usual, Charlotte and Joshua spent their evening together.

They had went to a cutesy cafe together, and they’d even gone to a place where you could make your own pottery. So far it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Joshua’s laugh slowed as the two continued to walk back to Charlotte’s apartment building, “okay, okay, but do you really think Seungkwan took Hoshi’s new pair of jeans to get back at him for losing his racket?”

“Yes! I swear he did because why else would Seungkwan purposely flaunt off his new par of jeans to Hoshi?”

He raised a brow in response, “let’s be real, it’s Kwan of course he would show of his jeans to Hoshi in particular.”

Chaerin snorted before scooting closer to the boy. The little gesture caused their hands to brush slightly. Joshua’s ears bloomed a shade of pink and Charlotte’s cheeks flushed slightly as they made brief eye contact. Not being able to take the tension, Charlotte cleared her throat forcefully as the two enter the apartment lobby.

She fiddled with her fingers as the elevator rode up each floor, a quiet whizzing being the only thing heard amongst the deafening silence. Charlotte cursed at herself for choosing to live on the second highest floor of the building. What was only three minutes in the elevator had felt like three years.

Joshua let out a cough as they exited the elevator, “do you uh want me to make your favorite ramyeon for dinner?”

“I’d like that.” Charlotte smiled up at him, signaling that the tension had quickly dissolved.

A silly banter and the sound of Charlotte’s “brain capacity” playlist filled the air as the two ate their dinner with a can of beer each on the side. That one can later turned in to two and soon three. Charlotte aware of her terrible tolerance pushed away her half filled third can of alcohol away.

“Oh c’mon loosen up a bit, you don’t wanna get drunk tonight?” Joshua slurred his words, getting tipsier by the minute.

“No Joshie, unlike you I have a photoshoot tomorrow. I can’t be showing up hungover,” she quipped.

He shook his head and watched as she stood up to finish the dishes, quickly following afterward with his plate in hand. Feeling a bit daring (and drunk) Joshua grabbed Charlotte’s waist from behind as she scrubbed the utensils, lightly resting his head on her shoulder. Charlotte’s cheeks turned a bright red within seconds, from both the drinks and her member’s sudden movement.

“Shua…” Chaerin warned, “what are you doing?”

“Let’s dance,” he pulled her away from the sink as he swayed his hips to the rhythm, “please?”

She let out a sigh, letting him defeat her argues. Joshua effortlessly spun her around so that the two were face to face and waltzed Charlotte around like the princess he believed she was. She held onto his broad, strong shoulders as his arms encircled her waist, holding her close. They slowed danced in the kitchen as if they were a couple of teenagers at senior prom.

Charlotte looked up at him, Joshua’s eyes sparkled with joy and love. They stared at one another for too long until Joshua leaned in, his breath fanning over Charlotte’s beet red face. Her breath hitched as he continued to dip his head causing there noses to touch.

Everything that Charlotte wanted was right there, quite literally a centimeter away. Her mind was screaming at her to pull away from Joshua but her body eased into his touch like putty. Chaerin came to her senses and pushed him away, just as their lips were about to meet in a kiss.

“I-I can’t. We can’t.” She breathed out.

Joshua’s face twisted in hurt making Charlotte immediately regret her words. “I thought you loved me back.”

“I do! Shua I do. It’s just your drunk and-“ Charlotte wasn’t able to finish as Joshua soon cut her off.

“I’m sober enough to know that I want you.”

Charlotte kept silently, she was at a loss for words and didn’t want to say anything that would hurt Joshua even more.

He scoffed, “Lottie, do you understand how hard it is to have to hide your feelings for someone you feel so strongly about to the point where you can’t even explain how you feel in words─ to have to love them from afar knowing that they probably don’t love you back?”

She stared back at Joshua shocked as his chest rose up and down in heavy breaths. Chaerin had never seen Joshua talk─ yell like that.

“Didn’t think so,” and with that Joshua took off for the door, leaving Charlotte standing there alone.

She couldn’t believe it. Joshua loved her. The boy that trained with her, her own member. An alarm set off in her brain and Charlotte was hit with the urge to run after Joshua. She couldn’t leave her relationship with him on such unsettling terms.

Just before rushing through the door, Chaerin looked out the window only to find that it was heavily raining. Again, Charlotte had a photoshoot so she couldn’t show up sick and hungover. She quickly grabbed an umbrella that hung on a nearby hook and sprinted past the doorway.

Out of breath and with tears streaming down her face, Charlotte found Joshua standing in the parking lot soaking wet, trying to find a taxi that would drive him somewhere away from her. His chest heaved heavily as he was exhausted after racing down the flight of stairs, Chaerin couldn’t tell if his face was wet from tears or the rain. It was probably both.

“Joshie, please can we talk.” Charlotte called out to him, pleading.

Joshua chose to stay frozen in his spot, ignoring the way too familiar voice. “We did talk.”

Charlotte let out a tired sigh, she knew that this wouldn’t be easy. Things started to get even harder as she noticed a company car drive towards where the two stood.

“Please,” she cried, slowly approaching him.

Again, she was ignored. Just as Joshua was about to step into the car, he was stopped by her shouts.

“Yes!” Charlotte shouted, “yes.”

Confused, Joshua turned around finally facing Charlotte. He was surprised to see her expression flooded with emotion and her eyes wet with tears.

“Yes, I understand how it is to have to hide your feelings for someone. Yes, I understand what it’s like to feel so strongly for someone to the point where you can’t even explain it in words.” Charlotte’s voice broke.

Joshua stared at her, trying to process her words. He was about to speak up when he was interrupted by her continuing voice.

“You know why?” She sniffed, “because I feel this way about you. I love you so much that I can’t even tell you how much because there’s no way to describe this feeling. I have never been so in love with someone until you came along.”

They stared at one another, their eyes shone with shock and affection. Charlotte stood there shaking while still grasping onto her umbrella, her breathing became uneven after all the rambling. The cab that had been ready to pick up Joshua had become impatient because it was now long gone.

Chaerin couldn’t even remember what happened after that because Joshua took her by surprise when he stepped forward, crashing his lips onto hers without saying another word.

Joshua kissed her like the world was ending the next day, he kissed with passion and longing. She sighed again, this time out of relief as she kissed him back with equal fervor, putting all of the pent up tension into the kiss. Charlotte had been dying to feel Joshua’s lips on hers, and his fantasies were finally coming true. Their lips moved in sync as if they were molded to perfection for each other. Chaerin’s hands traced up his torso and found comfort atop of Joshua’s chest after quickly letting go of the umbrella. She didn’t have a single care in the world about her upcoming photoshoot if it meant staying like this with Joshua.

Begrudgingly, Joshua pulled away, winded and a bit dazed after the two’s breathtaking kiss. Charlotte pouted out of habit as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I was starting to think you were scared of my love,” Joshua breathed.

Charlotte smiled shyly, “I’m not scared of love. Not yours.”

☆⋆｡ CHARLOTTE-WORLD MASTERLIST 𖦹°‧★

༘ the request box is always OPEN, so never be afraid to send a message！ just please remember that I won’t be able to answer immediately！

ꫂ OR message/comment to be added to the taglist！

© 𝐬𝐯𝐭-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞

[goldenshrikecomic]

Your comic has been a huge inspiration for me to start creating my own comic. I don't have any questions about the story itself, but I'm very curious about your process. Do you have any tips for someone looking into starting their own comic? Or maybe just something that stood out to you while you were first starting, or a 'click' moment you had? anything along those lines. second question: Your characters always feel so real, even in a cartoonish style. Its almost like i could see them actually moving on the page. When drawing your panels/pages, how do you achieve this? Is it on purpose, or just the way you've managed to draw? And thirdly; (sorry for all the questions,) do you put an overlay layer over the top of an entire panel? what's your process for this? (like how do you choose what kind of layer setting, colors, etc.) Do you think this is what gives your characters/artwork that aforementioned visual "realness"? Thank you, sorry for all of the questions!

I get asked this a lot in different ways so looking into technical tag might help. This reply is about starting a comic. The biggest tip I can give you is boring: just start. It's the hardest part. Start it badly, but start it.

This is not something I see in my art despite hearing about it from readers. On the contrary, I feel my poses are often pretty stiff and oftentimes I'm not very happy with them! Using references is usually the biggest factor in making gestures and movements look presentable.

I don't use an overlay layer on top of everything, but I do put a multiply layer on top of characters, and then a new layer for airbrushing some background colors on top of them. This post describes how I do it.

[nightxcreature]

My Girl (Beau Arlen)

Summary: Just a short one shot about our favorite Sheriff telling his girl that he loves her. I haven't written anything about Beau before now, so I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Unnamed Female (No use of Y/N)

Warnings: None, just 634 words of fluff.

A/N: The format may be a bit funky on this one, I was having a hard time getting it to load here.

The first time he’d said it wasn’t on purpose; it just fell out of his mouth like he’d said it a million times. They’d only been dating a few months, but Beau had quickly come to realize that she wasn’t a morning person. At all. So, when he’d made it mandatory that everyone working at Helena’s sheriff’s office be at work bright and early one Saturday morning for a training brief, it was safe to say that she was pissed. Rolling in right on time, hair a mess, pouty lips and tired eyes. Absolutely beautiful. He’d sent her his best charming smile and laughed loudly at the scowl he’d received in return before sauntering over and kissing her lips softly, “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” He’d murmured, green eyes shining as he’d smiled down at her. She’d lifted her gaze to meet his with a blank stare, her pouty lips on full display as she grumbled, “I hate it here. I’m thinking about quitting.” He laughed again and placed an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Kissing the top of her head, he shook his own, “Pretty sure you won’t find another boss that’ll show his appreciation quite like I do.” He’d muttered before releasing her and walking back toward Pop to start the brief with a clap of his hands. Several hours later, he glanced around the room in search of her to no avail. Leaning over he grabbed his phone from the desk and dialed her number…straight to voicemail. Weird. Jenny happened to be walking by, and he didn’t miss the snicker she let out at his confused expression, “Lose your lady?” She’d asked as she nudged his hip and glanced down at the empty coffee mug on his desk, “I can give you two guesses as to where she snuck off to.” He shook his head again but followed her gaze with his own. Looking back up, Jenny smiled, “You know she won’t last without it.” A deep sigh left his lips, but the amused smile that crossed them caused Jenny to chuckle. He held out his hand as she pulled her phone out and passed it to him, “Don’t give her too much hell, she’s grabbing something for me, too.” He rolled his eyes and laughed softly as he dialed the number again. Unsurprisingly, she answered Jenny’s call quickly causing him to scoff as she muttered, “Did he catch me? I’m almost back. “ “Yeah, I’d say you’ve been caught.” Beau whispered back, grinning widely when he’s met with silence on the other end, “You at least grab something for me, too?” “No.” She snapped too quickly. He could hear the lie in her words, “I don’t like you.” He’d laughed loudly, running his free hand through his hair, “Oh yeah? That’s not what you said last night.” “Shut up.” Came her grumbled reply and he could almost see the flush rising to her cheeks. Then, “Of course I got you something. ‘M not cruel. Way nicer than you.” He snorted, but nodded slowly, “Yeah, that’s why I love you.” It slipped out so easily he almost didn’t catch himself. Quick, fluid, right. There was another beat of silence on the other end that gave him time to realize what had just come out of his mouth and anxiety crashed into him like a tidal wave, “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry, Darlin’, that came out all…” “I know. I love you, too.” She replied casually, effectively cutting him off. He could hear the smile in her voice when she murmured, “See you in a minute.” She’d hung up then and a few minutes passed until she was sneaking back into the room, an iced coffee in one hand and his heart in the other.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: No tag list for this one because I don't have one for Beau at the moment lmao If you'd like to be added just let me know!

[optimisticgrey]

WIP....whenever

No fancy word play. I have been overwhelmed by work and have only managed to produce this which, ironically, was a community prompt I fucked up.

So, thank you, @emmy-dekarios-bg3 @waterdhaviancheeses and @ignistigator for the tags 🫶

No pressure tag for @rdekarios @whiskeyskin and @bhaal-battle-beer-bard

Content warning: Blood, ritual sacrifice, religious sacrifice and (I cannot stress this enough) more blood. This is a Bhaalist story. Proceed with caution.

The scream always came first.

Not the blood. Not the chanting. Not even the unbearable stillness that settled over the stone chamber before the knife was raised.

No. It was the scream — sharp, desperate and very human. It cut through the songs like a thread snapping. And yet, it always felt distant to her. Like something echoing off the walls of a dream.

Even now, years later, it was the first thing that returned. Not the faces. Not the altar. Just that voice, raw and breaking, swallowed by the next sound that followed it: her own.

Celeste’s voice, young and clear, singing in perfect, measured pitch. A ritual verse. Sacred. Ancient. The melody had been taught to her before she could truly grasp what it meant. She'd sung it dozens of times before the blade was ever placed in her hand. A song of offering, of blood and devotion — her voice the vessel through which death became divine.

She remembered the stone under her bare feet — cold at first, until the blood warmed it. Remembered the sharp tang of copper in the air, the way it mingled with the incense, thick and sweet and cloying. The way the candlelight shimmered off her skin. Off the altar. Off the bodies.

Five sacrifices. Their limbs tangled, necks twisted unnaturally, eyes open and staring at nothing. They were offerings. She had stepped over them without flinching.

And the congregation had watched her with awe.

Celeste remembered that most of all: their reverence. Dozens of robed figures crowding the shadows, waiting in breathless silence for her voice to rise again. For her to make it sacred. For her to turn slaughter into scripture.

And she had.

Her voice never wavered.

The chant spilled from her lips as if it had always been there. A river running through her, dark and holy. It came from someplace beyond memory, something her body remembered even if her mind didn’t.

Then came the heart.

She remembered lifting it: still warm, still faintly pulsing. Blood ran down her arms in thick rivulets, hot against her skin. It dripped from her elbows, over her ribs, across her breasts and belly. The stone was slick beneath her feet.

Her eyes had fluttered shut as she raised the heart toward the ceiling, offering it to the shadows above, the god she could not see, but had always known.

Bhaal.

Her father.

The chant behind her swelled like a wave. Her acolytes joined in, their voices rising around her until the chamber shook with song. Her name. His name. Praise and power, blood and reverence all woven into a single chorus.

She drank.

It tasted sweet.

That sweetness haunted her. Worse than the screams. Worse than the faces. The blood should have repulsed her, but she had swallowed it like nectar, and that memory stuck to her ribs like rot.

When she dropped the heart into the bowl, her fingers trembled. Not guilt. Not shame.

Elation.

She had raised her hands and called out to her father until her throat turned raw.

And they had called her holy.

The chosen daughter.

She had felt worthy. And that — more than anything else — was what shattered her.

“My love?” Gale’s voice pulls her back.

Now, the memory slips through the cracks in her armor and broken memories. Quiet. Merciless. It haunts her not only because of what she had done, but because of how right it had once felt.

No guilt. No protest. Just purpose.

Celeste blinks and looks at him. He is smiling gently, hand reaching to brush her cheek. That familiar warmth in his gaze, ever so steady and soft, aches in her chest.

“Karlach requested a ballad,” he says, voice light but eyes searching.

Her gaze darts around the fire. They are all staring. Across the flames, Astarion tilts his head.

“Are you quite alright, darling?”

Celeste clears her throat. The phantom taste of blood still lingers on her tongue. She takes a quick gulp of tea, fingers adjusting the lute in her lap. Small movements to anchor herself.

“All good,” Celeste lies, and flashes a smile she hoped looked convincing. “Something sad, Kalla? I bet five gold I can make you cry in the first two verses.”

[ragecndybars]

:) thank you my beloved for the tag <3 i always forget to do these so im doing it Right Away to prevent my adhd from taking over

Favorite Color: navy blue :D

Last Song: Love ka (Miori Celesta cover). god what a good cover of a good song

Currently Reading: my own fanfictions. lmao i haven't read seriously since finishing my reread of she who became the sun a month ago. great book btw. i was rereading it for the purpose of refreshing my memory before diving into the sequel but then i forgor.

Currently Watching: i don't really like watching stuff most of the time lmao, but the last thing i watched was Kingsglaive Final Fantasy XV (also a rewatch). the last thing i watched that i hadn't watched before was the Villainess Level 99 anime. pretty good adaptation other than the cgi. holy fuck the cgi shlfkjhsdf

Currently Craving: pork..... i want pad thai with pork from this one thai place near me thats always crazy busy so i never go there.......

Coffee or Tea: tea!!! i love tea, esp green tea but all kinds really. HATE coffee. like even a tiny bit of coffee taste in something i otherwise like just ruins it for me.

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS!

creating a new post bc the og is longgggggggg

Rules: answer and tag six people you want to know better

Thank you @moris-i-cant-move-it-anymore and @astrophelthegremlin for tagging me!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

1. Favourite colour: MMM Purple. ANd- red!

2. Last song: Replay (Dorian Electra Remix) by Lady Gaga 🔥👌

3. Currently reading: What The Hell Did I Just Read by Jason Pargin (The third book of my all time favorite series John Dies at the End, though I've been in the middle for months so I might have to start over 😭)

4. Currently watching: Rewatching Inuyasha! and just watched the first ep of Re: Zero!

5. Currently craving: Sour punch straws 😋

6. Coffee or tea: coffee! Any kind! Tea is nice too tho, but I drink coffee multiple times a day lol

oof a lot of my moots have tagged each other already! uh- @leo-a-nb @fuckthisshitimin @lunapher @sauriaaaaaan @meccentric @shukakumoodboard @egregiousderp @seductivelysalad @bananahwormz (yes i did more than six I got excited)

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[verflares]

(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:

"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[felassan]

(๑•ᴗ•๑) if your Dragon Age elf OCs were elves that had manifested from being spirits rather than elves that had been born, what kind of spirit would they each have been?