#and ive only been here for two hours. someone kill me

[the-kipsabian]

cant tell you how close i am to losing my mind at work rn

[pshcomforts]

➳ let you break my heart again | psh.

collegestudent!sunghoon x fem!reader (mentions of wonyoung from ive)

“one day i will stop falling in love with you”

synopsis: you’ve been in love with your friend, sunghoon for a long time but he has eyes on someone else.

warnings/content: college au. unrequited love. pure and heavy angst. cursing. no happy ending. written in third pov. sunghoon’s oblivious. reader is introverted. a little bit of jay x reader.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ falling in love ɞ˚₊

fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). shameless part two is in the works i swear!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: let you break my heart again by laufey

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:04 ─────|────────────── -3:25

it was a gloomy and early evening, and all y/n could hear were the sounds of bird chirps and wind whispers.

she gave a soft sigh as she arrived onto the school campus. “just a few hours today, it’s gonna rain too..,” she murmured with a saddened expression.

the girl soon felt a harsh arm tug around her neck, pulling her close within the person’s chest.

in an instant, the smell of cologne and fresh laundry attacked her senses and she knew who it was.

“you just got here??” her close friend, sunghoon beamed towards her.

y/n’s heart instantly thumped at the processed words. “yeah.. did you?” she took a gulp, eyes trailing up towards the body figure.

she heard him give a low chuckle that caused her insides to churn and twist all in one. “i’ve been here for a while, dummy. we’ve all been waiting for you.” hoon spoke, arms unintentionally linking her closer in his presence.

the girl awkwardly laughed along before swallowing her feelings away. “oh.. well, i’m here now.”

“finally! i’ve been waiting since 8am!”

“you have?” her head peered up and she only hoped that sunghoon didn’t notice the blushing red around her cheeks and ears.

he didn’t. the stupid boy was oblivious.

so he only cackled a laugh before furiously nodding his head — “yeah! i need to give you an update on how it’s going so far with wonyoung.”

oh.

y/n’s heart instantly sank to the pit of her stomach, killing all of the possible butterflies that had been formed there. “o..oh…,” she mumbled with a lip bite. “yeah, how’s it going so far?”

she attempted a smile but could only go so far with just her lips forcibly pressing into a thin line.

sunghoon didn’t notice the way his friend who’s crushed on him for months subtly withdrew away from him as he yapped on and on about his progress.

“so me and her..,” “and then we..,” “but she also told me..,” “and i really want her to know that..,” the oblivious boy mumbled on, and all she could do was let him run his mouth with how much excitement surged through him.

y/n laughed here and there, playing the simple mannered jokes to quiet down her aching pain that wished to become present.

but even with her efforts, her tears that caused a shine to display in her eyes were worsening her act. and when she quietly sniffed away her snot, sunghoon immediately noticed and stopped in his tracks.

“hey,” he nudged. “you okay?”

“yeah.. no, yeah, i’m definitely fine! it’s just getting cold so i think i’m getting a little sick.” she muffled back with her head turned away from him.

he didn’t give a response. at least, not right away. it was urgently quiet as he observed her body language, almost as if trying to figure her out.

“are you sure you’re okay?” the male softly uttered. his voice was sweet and reassuring, much like his feelings for wonyoung.

“if you need to, just go back home. your head might hurt if you stay in class.” he added in.

y/n hated this. she hated how caring he was, how unintentionally charming he was. she hated it, and she hated him (lies).

“no it’s fine, hoon.”

sunghoon’s face spoke with disbelief in her words. resting his hand on her shoulder, he firmly murmured, “i’m sure the professor will understand, i don’t want you to force yourself-“

“i said i’m fine.” the girl harshly reiterated.

after the cold shoulder, she felt his hand slip off of her shoulder — causing a burning pulse to ache in her heart. he was the one who withdrew this time, and she felt it.

“you didn’t have to be harsh, y/n.”

sunghoon’s hand was about to fully slip away but y/n caught it in time, fingers dangling onto the forearm with hope and regret.

“sorry, sunghoon, i’m just a little irritated with this cold,” she lied. nothing about her runny nose and teary eyes were about a cold. he was the reason, but he couldn’t know that.

✩ ‘i don’t even think that you care like i do’ ✩

hoon sighed. “i know you get a little mean when your head starts to hurt but don’t take it out on me,” he softly joked, playfully nudging her head afterwards.

the girl rolled her eyes before giving a light smack to his arm. “shut up, i’m just not feeling well.” another lie.

“well just don’t get me sick cause then i’ll get wonyoung sick.”

oh.

his words processed into her ears faster than she thought, and her smile dropped.

but when sunghoon looked back at her to see if she laughed at his joke, she quickly wore a grin once more.

“calm down, you guys are still talking.” y/n said with a stab to the heart.

“not after today, i hope.”

her ears perked up. she knew it wasn’t possible for her friend to like her back, especially with how much he always went on and on about a girl like wonyoung; but it didn’t hurt to have a little hope right?

✩ ‘pretend that we are more than friends’ ✩

“what’s happening today?” she asked, finding it hard to gulp down saliva with her heartbeats in her throat.

sunghoon awkwardly chuckled as he scratched the back of his nape. “i’m planning to ask her out today.”

another heart drop to the stomach.

✩ ‘i should stop’ ✩

‘of course.. i’m an idiot…,’ she thought to herself as she exhaled a heavy sigh.

“what? that’s not a good idea?” the boy asked, catching onto that exaggerated sigh.

“what? oh.. no, it’s a good idea! ask her out!” she beamed, displaying a wide smile. she felt like an idiot. her hopes went up for a second, just for it to be shot down like always.

✩ ‘heaven knows i’ve tried’ ✩

“thank you, y/n! you always help me with her, i can’t thank you enough!” sunghoon yelled, hugging and shaking her around.

y/n lightly laughed. “once is enough..,”

“what?”

“what..? nothing! hey, there’s jake and them, let’s go!” she dragged him towards their friend group and sighed in relief.

“you guys are finally here?” jake teased, displaying his full set of teeth as he laid his head on his girlfriend’s shoulders.

y/n nodded. “yeah, i just came on campus.”

“girl, it’s noon!” her friend, ji-woo yelled in disbelief.

“hey, my class is later, so i’m not late!”

“that’s true, at least she’s planning to go to class.” dae chimed in with a shrug in his shoulders.

“exactly! thank you,” the single friend defensively beamed back.

“that’s a first.” min-su uttered, causing cackled laughter to erupt out of the group.

a few topics of discussions immersed before sunghoon intervened with his own — “so i’m planning to ask wonyoung out.”

everyone immediately shifted their gaze to y/n, who had her head slightly drooped down. they knew she liked him. everyone knew, everyone but sunghoon.

but it wasn’t like they could just tell him for her. it wasn’t their place, and she’d honestly rather keep it a secret with how eager he was to be going out with another girl.

y/n softly shook her head ‘no’ towards her three closer friends who intentionally stared at her a little longer than the members. ‘no, don’t say anything, it’s fine’ — she spoke with that head shake.

ji-woo sighed out before uttering, “you’re really gonna go out with her?”

sunghoon’s head tilted to the side in confusion as he responded with a — “yes? is it that surprising?” he turned his attention to jake to get an idea of what his girlfriend meant, only for jake to just awkwardly smile.

“well, you’re just not the type to be that bold, you know?” dae urged, saving ji-woo’s ass.

“yeah, you’re usually more like the guy who just lets stuff happens unintentionally.” min-su said in an attempt to cover their question up.

“baby, i’m sure sunghoon’s just getting more confident with her.” heeseung replied to his girlfriend, intertwining his hands with hers.

y/n’s head slightly bolted before looking at the male who just spoke. they met eyes before he mouthed a ‘sorry’ towards her.

“hee’s right. she just makes me feel confident in being more out there. she’s so sweet, and talks confidently, and..,” sunghoon chattered on.

and it was then that she realized just how different wonyoung and her were.

wonyoung was extroverted, and y/n was introverted.

she was so outgoing and natural in everything she did, and y/n truly admired her for that. she couldn’t ever hate someone who was so unbelievably sweet like wonyoung.

but the two girls were different, and y/n could see just how much sunghoon and her wouldn’t work out. they were too similar, and he needed someone opposite from him.

her. it was her who was like that. wonyoung brought the best in him, and y/n was at least glad for that.

so as hoon kept yapping on about his plan, y/n disassociated with every thought that flooded her head. she couldn’t bare to hear the same words, so the best thing that she could do was just blur out whatever he was saying.

the group took notice and eventually stopped sunghoon.

“hey y/n, doesn’t your class start soon?” dae quickly intervened with an eyebrow raise.

“hm? oh, yeah.. soon.” she blatantly said, no sense of emotion shown.

ji-woo awkwardly laughed as she added, “girl you should start walking.” her chuckle was in an attempt to make light jokes of the situation, but y/n only nodded.

“okay,” she mumbled and got up from the table seat.

“oh, i’ll walk you.” jay uttered, taking the excuse and leaving as well.

sunghoon cocked his head. “what? but i was supposed to walk her. jay??”

“don’t worry, i’ll walk her! her class will be close to mine anyway!” the dark haired boy shouted before catching up to y/n.

“hey,” jay bumped his arm against hers. “you want to talk about it..?”

she sighed as she faced him. his face showed a sickly amount of worry and it only caused her to playfully push his head away.

“does it look like i want to talk about it?” y/n murmured, softly pouting.

jay chuckled. “no, but i’m here if you need me. i know it’s not easy, y/n, and sunghoon’s a little stupid for not seeing that you like him.”

she clicked her tongue as she rolled her eyes. “please, i haven’t shown that i’ve liked him at all. he’s not stupid, he’s just in love with someone else.” when her words actually processed, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

the girl stopped her tracks and lowered her head, causing jay to look back at her with pity.

“y/n..,” he whispered, brows furrowing at her state.

“it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” she chuckled through her pain, tears already flowing down her cheeks. “being in love with someone who only sees me as a friend.”

“it’s not. maybe if you just tell him-“

“what, tell him and make our whole relationship awkward? no. he’s already adamant on going out with her anyway, there’s no point.”

y/n’s head lowered even more, hiding away her puffy, red eyes that were clear in daylight. she let out soft sobs before attempting to shut down her feelings.

✩ ‘promise i don’t mean to cry’ ✩

“sorry, this is gross. i’m not crying anymore, sorry jay-“

✩ ‘but i get overwhelmed and confused’ ✩

in swift seconds, jay pulled her into his embrace and softly squeezed her. “your feelings for sunghoon aren’t stupid. you may be for not telling him any sooner, but your feelings are never invalidated.” he muffled through the hug.

the girl cracked a smile at his words before slapping his arms. “thanks.. that was a little mean but, thanks jay.”

jay beamed a sweet and reassuring smile as he stroked her hair for a second. “what are friends for?” he said.

✩ ‘some day, someone will like me like i like you’ ✩

“are you still planning to go to class?”

“should i..? after i cried..?”

he cackled a laugh, shining a smile towards her before mumbling, “it’s up to you, but i honestly wouldn’t. you can always catch up too..,”

y/n turned her head to look at him. “are you suggesting that you skip with me?”

“who said i was skipping??” the tall male grinned ear to ear as he watched her exasperate a sigh out.

“you cant tell me to skip and not have you skip with me!”

“fine.. i’ll skip with you.” jay sighed in defeat. “but we have to get the others to skip too!”

“deal! i was already texting dae!”

the two laughed before making a weird U-turn from their pathway.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

eventually, their plan to skip only turned into a library study session. and with such short timing, only a few were willing to do it — dae, min-su, ji-woo, and niki.

the rest were either still in class, at home already, or in some cases, asking their crush out.

so when it was just the six in one big table, everything was chaotically quiet.

y/n sat next to her three closest friends while jay and niki silently bickered here and there.

“i cant believe jungwon didn’t come, he’s usually always down for these study sessions.” niki snorted.

“well wonie wasn’t feeling it today so he just went home.” dae butted in, eyes staying glued to his laptop.

jay huffed out a sigh. “this is a little boring.. i thought we were gonna do something more fun when we skipped, y/n.”

“well, we have to catch up for the work we missed.”

“remind me to never skip with you again..,”

the group quietly laughed together as jay continued — “seriously, y/n, what was the point if we were going to do something like study?”

“i just didn’t want to listen to my professor talk,” she scowled.

“let’s go eat somewhere, at least!” the male frowned, eyes rolling at how much she was concentrating.

“i wouldn’t mind eating..,” niki chimed in.

“let’s go!” yelled ji-woo, getting everyone hyped up to leave.

y/n immediately jumped up from her cushioned seat with a beam — “okay! i just have to go pee first.”

“do you want us to wait for you?”

“no it’s fine, jay needs to get the car anyway so just come around the block and i’ll be here.”

a few debates on staying with the girl was made before she ultimately convinced jay to just let them go first.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

once y/n was finally done, she brought herself to the front of the library. as she stepped out, she finally heard the heavy rain drops pour from outside.

the campus was flooded with wet puddles and muddy sidewalks. she exaggerated a sigh as she covered herself with a hoodie.

“should’ve just had someone wait with me,” she mumbled under her breath.

the girl glanced back and forth, from left to right to ensure nothing was in her way, but once she did so, she completely hated the sight she came across.

a few ways down from her once-peripheral vision, y/n saw sunghoon and wonyoung wrapped around each other in a hug.

she immediately found it hard to breathe with how tight her heart began to clench onto every single ache. tears ran through her cheeks as she watched from afar.

the only thing that further confirmed his stated plans from earlier were the dim lights on campus — exhibiting how well hoon was wrapping his arms around her, how well they fit each other like puzzle pieces.

she bit her lips as she tried to swallow back another crying sob, but she just couldn’t help it.

y/n was watching her closest friend fall in love with someone else this entire time, and she’s always been able to somewhat sustain it. but now? now, he would actually be with wonyoung, instead of the girl who’s been in love with him since high school.

✩ ‘if only you knew what i felt like’ ✩

her breath hitched as every memory of her and hoon being potentially more flashed away in an instant. she’d always thought that maybe on some level, she’d get with sunghoon because of how well it went for all three of her close friends to find their special someone from being friends first.

but that little fragment of hope she had left for something possible was now crushed to a pulp.

✩ ‘some day, one day’ ✩

it wasn’t like the movies where the two friends realize their love for each other, and y/n knew that now. because if it was anything like that, hoon wouldn’t have been so excited to tell her everything that he knew about wonyoung.

he would’ve just confessed his feelings, and baam, happy ending.

but yet again, it wasn’t like the movies.

so she harshly wiped her tears away and though no one was around, she couldn’t help but be thankful for the heavy raindrops that blended her tears in with it. a half smile plastered across her face in revelation to that while sighing.

‘happy for you..,’ y/n thought to herself as she pulled out her phone.

✩ ‘i will stop falling in love with you’ ✩

beads of water from the rain plopped on her phone in a quick pace while she texted a family member — ‘can you come pick me up?’

she bit her lips before leaving to her shared group chat with her beloved friends.

y/n <33:

hey.. i just remembered that i have an exam next week so i have to study for it

go ahead and eat without me tho!! my brother’s already on his way so don’t worry abt any of that! :)

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

You have an exam??

Why didn’t you tell us!

Just come out anyway 🥰

hee’s fav 🤍:

yeah one day won’t hurt!

jake’s girl 🫂:

jay’s taking forever but yeah, just come y/n!

y/n’s eyes glistened when she felt another wave of emotions hit her. they didn’t even know she was going through such a thing, and it hurt that she couldn’t tell them yet.

y/n <33:

no it’s okayy, another time!

a buzz to her phone was made before she found her brother pulling up. she ran to the car with a shaky breath, and soon, they drove away from the heartbreaking sight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when the girl got home, she immediately ran to her room and sobbed her eyes out. she broke down in a crying mess after holding it in in front of her brother.

tears streamed down her cheeks and snot filled her nose with every hiccup in her throat.

“i’m an idiot,” y/n grumbled in a scratchy whisper.

just then, her phone rang like crazy and she peeked over. her three friends were calling, most likely to call and talk like they do every night, but she couldn’t do it. not right now.

so she declined it, and a few other buzzed calls from them.

y/n ignored the flooding texts of concerns and playful frustrations before coming across a few from sunghoon.

hoonie 🤍:

You busy??

I have to tell you how it went, y/n

Text me back as soon as possible! I have such good news 🙂

her heart sank. of course he had good news, she was there to witness it. but she was a good friend after all.

✩ ‘until i do, i’ll be thinking of you’ ✩

y/n <33:

oh really?? what happened?

✩ ‘then of course i’ll let you break my heart again’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[cosyvelvetorchid]

prompt: buck has to take a rain check on an upcoming date with tommy because dr. salazar (heart doctor) wants buck to come in for his year review check after his lightning strike injuries, buck tells tommy and tommy offers to go with buck, tommy makes discoveries of wot buck went through during his coma and recovery, buck’s ecmo scars on his neck and the healed burns on his hands are talked about, buck has to wear the holter monitor again

That was such a great idea for a prompt. Thank you ❤️

As always you can send a bucktommy prompt to my ask. If you've sent one and it hasn't been answered yet, just sit tight - just means ive not yet got the full idea of what to write yet but it definitely will get answered.

********

Organising dates with Tommy was like a military operation. They had only been on 4 so far (if you count Bucks bad coffee apology meet, which buck absolutely does). Their often conflicting shifts made it difficult to carve out time, but they both very much wanted to put the effort in to see eachother.

Buck was excited for their 5th date tomorrow. It was a breakfast date. Well, technically dinner date for Tommy as he would be coming off shift but they were both excited nonetheless. That was until Buck got a reminder email of his one year heart check up post lightening strike. His heart sank when he realised and he called Tommy.

"Hey Evan." Buck could hear the smile on his face and though his heart was a little sunk, it swelled.

"Hey Tommy. Is this a good time? You're not on a call?"

"It's fine. Just giving the chopper a clean. Patient had a nasty hemorrhage this morning. Whats up?"

"I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have raincheck our breakfast date tomorrow."

"Oh." The disappointment was clear in his tone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I uh, totally forgot I have an appointment with Dr Salazar my heart doctor."

"Are you okay? Have you been having palpations?"

Every time I look at you, or hear your voice, or think about you.

"No, no nothing like that - I feel fine. Its just a check up. It being a year since the uh.." Buck found the words difficult to say, though wasn't sure why. Most of the time he could talk about it, but sometimes the reality of what happened really hit him and he found it difficult.

"Lightning strike." Tommy finished for him. "Well it's a perfectly reasonable reason to raincheck so don't worry."

"Thanks Tommy." Buck said, relieved.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tommy asked. Buck didn't expect that. They hadn't been dating long - Buck wasn't even sure if he could call himself Tommy's boyfriend yet. He wanted to of course but they hadn't had that conversation yet. But he wasn't sure if he was asking because he wanted to be there or it was out of some kind of obligation.

"Thanks but it's fine. They're probably just going to scan me and tell me I'm in top shape." He forced a laugh at the end. Truthfully he was worried. He wasn't lying about feeling fine - he really did - but he thought he was fine when he had mild pain in his leg which turned out to be blood clots that almost killed him.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah I'm sure." He wasn't sure but didn't want to feel like a some scared kid. Tommy was a strong, stoic man - He would probably be turned off watching Buck worry.

***

Buck groaned in his sleep at the noise. It happened again and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. The third time he realised it was someone knocking on his door. He looked at his phone and cursed to himself seeing that it was just past 5am. Who the hell knocks on the door at 5am?!

He slowly and heavily made his way down the stairs to the door.

"Tommy? What are you doing here? I thought your shift didn't finish for a other two hours?" He stepped aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

"I got off early, and no." He stated. Nerves hit Bucks stomach.

"W-why?"

"Because, you're worried about your heart appointment and you didn't tell me." Buck opened his mouth to respond but Tommy stopped him. "And before you argue, I could tell by the tone in your voice. So, I got off work early so that we can have still have our breakfast date, and then I can go with you to your appointment. Even if you just want me to wait in the car."

Buck wanted to tell him not to come. Not because he didn't want him there - he actually did. In the short time they'd known eachother Tommy made him feel safe; like things would be okay.

It was more that he wasn't used to people showing up for him. At least when it came to love interests. He'd always felt like he was a burden. In an odd way it made him feel uncomfortable. But Tommy hadn't made him feel like it was hard to be there for him. More than once he had proven himself by showing up. Buck knew he had let go.

"I'd really like that. Thank you."

"Of course." Tommy replied, showing those beautiful crinkles around his eyes that Buck would crawl into if he could.

***

A few hours later they were sat in Dr Salazars office. Buck has initially said he'd be fine alone and Tommy could wait in the car. But changed his mind last minute when a wave of nerves made its way through him. Tommy simply took his hand and walked into the hospital with him.

They'd taken his blood, scanned his heart and asked him a thousand questions. All that he was waiting for now was the results. His leg was bouncing as he sat waiting for her to come into her office. Tommy didn't say anything, just placed a hand on his knee. Bucks leg immediately stopped dancing at the touch. The feel of the warmth of tommys hand calmed him.

"Well, Evan.." She said walking in an sitting across her desk from them. "..everything seems to look fine. Bloods, scans have all come back normal."

Buck sighed and visibly relaxed.

"I just have a couple more questions to ask." She said.

"Okay."

"How are your hands? Are you experiencing any pain or tenderness?" She asked. Buck looked at his palms. You could barely notice the stars anymore. A fact which relieved Buck.

"Uh fine, really. The skin sometimes feels a bit tight but only if I'm feeling really hot" He admitted.

"Thats to be expected. When our bodies get warmer they expand and the skin tightens. It can take a while for the lower layers of dermis to fully heel so it might feel litter tighter for a while but it's nothing to worry about."

"Great." Buck said, relieved again.

"And what about the scar on your neck from the ecmo? How is that?" Buck instinctively reached up and palmed the area. It was barely noticeable now. Just a small round patch of skin a shade or two light then his skin tone.

"It's fine. No trouble there at all."

"Good. Well, there's one more thing I need from you today." She opened her drawer and removed a device placing it on the desk. "I need you to wear the holter moniter again for 24 hours."

"Do I have to?" He complained.

"Well you can say no, but it will be against medical advice and you will feel my personal derision. I know its a pain, but it's important to really make sure your heart is doing what it should be doing."

"He'll wear it." Tommy told her without even looking at him. It triggered a strange mix of feelings within Buck. Part of him was annoyed that Tommy was making the decision for him, but he also felt a warm feeling within him at seeing Tommy care that he do the right thing for his health.

"Yeah." He said.

"Good. Now you know the rules: no using the microwave or your cell phone for the entire time you're wearing it. Okay?"

"I remember."

"Good. Then i will see you tomorrow when you bring this back."

***

Buck was quiet on the car ride back to his apartment and for a while when they went inside.

"You okay?" Tommy asked

"I'm fine."

"Evan." Tommy chastised. Someone in the apartment above dropped something and a loud bang rang out. Buck instantly jumped at the sound. His eyes met with Tommy's. His face awash with fear which quickly turned to embarrassment. Tommy immediately walked over and put his arms around him.

"You're okay. I promise." His voice was soft and calming. Buck softened into the hug and held onto Tommy tightly.

"I'm not going to push you, but when you're ready you can tell me." Buck felt Tommy's fingers delicately trace lines in the hair at the base of his head. He tried to remember if any of his exes had ever done something so simple like that to comfort him and he couldn't.

Tommy was quite tactile, Buck had noticed. A hand on his back as we walks past, a thumb circling his hand while they watch a movie, or a hand on his leg as they talk after dinner. Buck had always like that in a parnter, being that he was a big physical touch person.

"Sometimes I forget that it happened and then something happens and I'm reminded again." He loosened himself from Tommy and stepped back to lift himself onto the counter. Tommy stepped forward standing just between his knees and no closer. He wanted to give buck not just the emotional space but the physical space to talk.

"It's funny - i don't remember the getting struck or the pain. At least not now. For a while everytime I looked at my hands I would remember." His hands were palm up as he looked at them; the skin just a little pinker where the scars were. Tommy gently took Bucks hands from underneath and brought each one to his face to placed a soft kiss on each palm.

It was an act so full of delicacy and love that Buck almost burst into tears. Tommy looked back up at him with a soft sympathetic face. A face that told him it was okay to talk.

"What I really remember when I woke up was how i felt. Like, everything was different even though nothing had changed. But I had. I couldn't tell you how and I still can't. I'm just.. different. I had the weirdest dreams when I was in the coma. They felt so visceral; so real. For weeks i had this sense of dread all the time, like the other shoe was going to drop and i was going to realise that i was still in the coma and nothing was real." Tommy gently stroked Bucks legs as he continued.

"You know for a while i had this checklist I would perform every morning. First I would check the time- the dreams all happened at night so if it was morning I'd know that I was awake. Then I'd text Bobby. I'm sure it was annoying for him but he always texted me back. I just had to be sure that everything was real. I'll have moments sometimes during the day where I'll have these phantom pains in my scar on my neck and for a split second I think 'what if I'm dreaming and the pain is from the ecmo machine still attached to me?'. That's really weird I know." He looked down feeling a hint of embarrassment. Tommy probably thought he was being ridiculous.

Instead Tommy reached up, placing his hand on one side of Bucks neck and softly pressing his lips against the scar on the other side. It wasn't heated or had any sexual connotations to it - it was sweet and loving. It was Tommy telling buck that these scars are part of who is and they're beautiful. Buck closed his eyes and just breathed. He let go and allowed Tommy to just simply care for him.

"Is it okay that I did that?" Tommy asked quietly.

"Always." Buck replied looking into to Tommy's soft, warm eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Tommy asked.

"Honestly? That I'm glad we haven't got the sex stage yet. If my heartrate now is anything to go by Dr Salazar is already going to think im having a heart attack." Tommy threw his head back and laughed heartily. Buck had seen him laugh before, even giggle, but never had he elicited a real, loud, belly laugh.

Buck felt a sense of pride at Tommy's response. And there was something else there too. Something weaving its way around under the surface of his skin. Something warm that made his stomach swoop and heart buzz. It wasn't quite near enough to lean into yet, but it was close. And getting closer every day.

[lucky-draws]

(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)

i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically. transcript in case the font is annoying to read:

Mary, You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate. I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.

We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that. Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end. I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me. I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat  - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster. But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person. You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though. Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you. See you around, Maria

[mickeyswhore]

Runaway

Request: hello! ive been having MAJOR house of wax/vincent brainrot....im wondering if you can do a vincent sinclair small fic? or something like that, im not used to fic terms,,,,,, it can be anything you want to write abt :3

A/N: Vincent Sinclair is so pookie, having brainrot about him is so valid and I totally get you, I hope you like it, let me know. 🫶

Summary: After suffering a mental breakdown, you decide to go on a road trip. You stumble upon a small town called Ambrose, and things escalate from there.

Vincent Sinclair x Reader

Warnings: just your run of the mill murder mentions, nothing much and dark undertones, this was low key fluffly.

GIF by @coppoladelrey

After you had a mental breakdown for being too overworked, you decided to go on a road trip so you can relax and just see new places. You avoided the highways because driving on those was extremely depressing so you were in country roads, now you were in Louisiana. It was hot and you were so thankful for your A/C being so powerful.

You decided to stop in a small town that you stumbled upon, it was around 1:00 PM and it was time to get more snacks and water, you parked your car in front of the small shop and you left the car. When you tried to enter the shop, it was locked. You found it odd since it was 24 hours, but you decided to wait to open again, you were in no rush so you decided to wait in your car.

Losing track of time playing games on your phone, you heard someone knocking at your window, you yelled and put your hand on your chest. You looked and you saw a man in a suit, you smiled tightly at him and left the car to be able to talk to him.

“You alright, sugar?” Bo thought it was extremely odd that not even Lester was able to see where you were coming from.

“Yeah, just passing by. I needed to buy some snacks for the journey, but it seems to be closed.” You pointed at the shop and Bo smiled at you.

“I think the owner had to leave for a few hours, you’re than welcomed to wait. But you shouldn’t in the car, come on I’ll walk you around the city, we have a wax museum that’s really cool. I’m Bo, by the way.” He raised his hand for you to shake and you did, you also introduced yourself.

The two of you walked towards the museum, and Bo kept asking questions such as why you were travelling, where you were heading and why you were by yourself. You didn't like the fact that he was almost interrogating you but you tried to keep your answers to a minimum. You weren’t to divulge the state of your mental health for this trip to be possible, you didn't resent Bo, you simply blamed it on southern hospitality so you remained pleasant and polite.

“Here we are, I have the keys to it so I can show you around.” Bo opened the door and allowed you to enter before him and he started telling the story about the museum. “Trudy was the woman that started it all, she had great talent we try to keep her legacy alive.” You looked at the the wax figures and they’re amazing, you’ve never seen anything like this before.

“It’s beautiful, who’s the current artist?” You asked whilst still looking at the statues, it was like nothing you’ve ever seen in your life before.

“His name is Vincent.” Bo informed you, he was watching you admiring Vincent’s work with genuine wonder and that made him smile.

“I’d love to meet him.” That was the only outcome for you, meeting the genius behind these sculptures, you felt a connection with him even though you have no idea who he is.

“He’s, well how do you say it? A recluse?” Bo explained to you and the way you deflated made his heart clench, why was he so affected by your sadness? He already looked at you with this sense of protection, he didn't want to kill you, it was strange.

“That’s a pity, it would be great to meet him.” You looked so sad, and Bo couldn’t have that. Vincent would kill him but if it was a bad idea Vincent was going to kill you anyway.

“Well, he lives down here. You can try to talk to him, can’t make any promises though.” Bo showed you the way and so you did, it was dark and you could tell that candles were lit.

Vincent was freaking out, why would Bo do this? Vincent didn't want to kill you at all, and you seemed very interested in his art. Ever since you and Bo entered the museum, Vincent was admiring you and he wanted to make you his muse.

“Hello? Vincent? I was looking at your art and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’d love to meet you if you want.” The hope in your voice was the most amazing thing for Vincent, you were so respectful and you loved his art Vincent’s heart was skipping a beat, he wanted to get to know you but you would scream and run away as soon as you saw him. “I hope you can hear me, your art is amazing.” Vincent took a deep breath and showed in your field of vision and he couldn’t even look up to your face of disgust.

“Hi! I’m so glad to meet you, Bo said that you were more of an introvert so it’s an honour.” You got close to him and raised your hand to shake Vincent’s, he reluctantly raised his and looked at you and you had the biggest smile Vincent has ever seen. He didn't say anything and you assumed that he was a man of few words. “Well, I think that I should leave you be. You’re probably very busy and I didn't mean to intrude, so I should get going.” Vincent started panicking, he didn't want you to leave.

Vincent grabbed your arm and guided you to one of his almost finished figure, you were admiring Vincent’s work and he was admiring you, your eyes, your cheeks, your complexion. He didn't want you to leave, and he didn't want you to die, he needed you.

“That’s amazing, Vincent. Thank you for showing me this.” You put your hand in his arm and smiled at him warmly, you couldn’t deny that his shy nature drew you in. You wanted to learn more about him, maybe you could stay a bit longer in this town. Vincent nodded and in a bold move, he put his hand on top of yours. “I hope that you can say yes, but totally alright if you don’t…would you like to go out for a cup of coffee with me?” You internally cringed with how awkward you were but Vincent couldn’t help but love it. He nodded and he was glad he did, because he was able to see the biggest smile he has ever seen.

“Great, well I better find a hotel. Do you know any?” Vincent nodded his head, he would need Bo’s help to keep you here. He doesn’t want you to leave.

You’re his, his muse, forever.

Bo already got your car broken when he didn't hear any screams he realised that Vincent didn't want you to leave, at all. Meanwhile, you and Vincent were spending this time contemplating art and talking about it, you were so excited where this was taking you, and Vincent already knew that you weren’t leaving at all.

[guiltyasdave]

are you ever dreaming of me?

series masterlist • this is part IV

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: This got very dark very quickly, but it had to be done. It’s basically just one big love letter from me to Dave and his character. I know Dave’s behavior in the last chapter has been a little frustrating but I hope it’ll make more sense now (it’s still frustrating though ngl). I also know this is not as smut-heavy as the other chapters, which might come as a disappointment to some. Stay with me here, more filth is coming soon, I just had to get emotional for a second. <3 (also, please be nice because I lowkey hate this, actually)

word count: ~3.1k

summary: Dave’s side of the story.

warnings: ANGST, bits of fluff if you squint, age-gap, mentions of killing people, mentions of death, mentions of rough sex, power imbalance, able-bodied reader, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, dubios morals (Dave is cheating on his wife… kinda), idiots in love, this whole serious is still very much 18+ only, mdni… did I mention angst? (As always, please tell if if I forgot something!)

dividers by @/saradika <3

find my full masterlist here!

Dave York isn’t a good man.

He isn’t a good man and he hasn’t been in a long time. He probably had been, once, when he first joined the military, when he still thought that he was doing the good thing, the right thing. Before he killed his first man. Now he’s living in shades of gray, where nothing is as simple as right or wrong.

He knows that what he’s doing is not right, but then again, the people that he’s killing aren’t good men either. He’s doing what he’s good at, what he has been trained to do for years. He doesn’t really know what else he’s good at. If there even is anything else.

He makes enough money to provide well for his daughters, the only thing in his life that he really cares about, the two girls that he loves more than anything. He loved their mother too, once, when they were both young. They were high school sweethearts, got married quickly simply because that was the thing that you did, only to realize later that adult life with each other wasn’t what either of them had imagined.

He’s never told Carol what exactly it is that he does, trying to protect her, which then led to her not understanding what was going on when he came home feeling cold and empty, a void inside of him that nothing could fill. They both grew distant from each other, not sharing any real connection anymore, just living aside one another. It works for him; their daughters are still the top priority for both of them, and they’re going to do everything in their power to give them the best possible childhood.

He suspects that Carol is seeing someone else, with the way she’s sometimes working late for no good reason, sliding out of the room to answer her phone at odd hours, the way he occasionally finds a position on their shared credit card bill that he doesn’t have an explanation for.

Dave knows that if he cared, he could easily find out every little detail about it. If he cared, he would probably be angry at how she’s not even making an effort to hide it. But the thing is - he just can’t bring himself to care. Has never done the same thing either, neither out of spite, nor because he had any desire for it.

Until he met her.

Sitting in a hotel bar, two seats over from him, when he’d just gotten a job done and figured that a quick drink might help him fall asleep easier. The whiskey’s burn in his throat didn’t ease the coldness that felt like it had permanently settled into his chest, not that he’d expected it to.

He had just decided to retreat to his room and get out of the city first thing in the morning when she sighed loudly and downed her own drink abruptly. He had noticed her when he walked in, the way he always clocked every person in any room he entered, and every possible exit route. He had absentmindedly noted that she was attractive, then dismissed the thought immediately. Probably here for a date, much younger than him, not paying him any mind. Not a threat, and therefore not important.

Not important at all, until he found himself turning to her and offering to buy her another drink before his mind had even caught up to his actions, learning that she had just been stood up for what would indeed have been a date, noticing the glint of interest in her gaze as she eyed him up and down, feeling a kind of longing that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Getting her to go up to his room with him had been easy. A mutual understanding of wanting each other, the desire to turn a shitty evening into something else, something that he doesn’t think either of them understood at the time.

Kissing her for the first time had been easy, too. Touching her, feeling her hot skin under his fingertips, her entire being so much softer, lighter than he was, felt easy. It felt right, like something that he hadn’t known he was missing right until that moment. He wanted to devour her, make her his, get her as close as he possibly could, before he inevitably had to give up this fleeting moment of something that suspiciously felt like happiness, and happiness never stayed within his reach for too long.

Sinking into her for the first time, hearing her gasp, her breath hot against his neck, felt even better. This was never gonna last, things this good never did. The way she clenched around him when he first slapped her ass and her whimper of “harder, please” turned him feral in a way that he hadn’t known before. How she gave up all control to him so willingly when his entire life had felt out of control for so long - it was addicting. He had known that he would come back for more again and again before he had even spilled himself into her for the first time.

He hadn’t planned for her to stay the night. Hadn’t planned for the way she kissed his lips in the morning, acting a little shy, like she was worried that he might send her away, but so clearly showing him that she wanted more of him, if that was what he wanted. And god damn, did he want to give her more, give her all that he had to offer, if only it wasn’t for the fact that any more of him would be enough to scare her away for good.

So, he didn’t give her more. Made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t looking for an emotional attachment, told her about his marriage, told her that they couldn’t be a thing. She was quick to hide her disappointment, but not quick enough for him not to notice. He half expected her to walk out then, that this wasn’t something she wanted, but instead she scribbled down her phone number, gave him a flirty smile and told him to call her “whenever”.

He knew he was being greedy, that he should have kept it a one time thing that he could keep a fond memory of, but of course he called her. Kept making stops in her town before flying back home, started spending weekends with her, the feeling of being around her too good to let go of.

He knows that it’s not right, that he’s probably taking advantage of her in some way. Of course he sees how badly she wants to please him, how she looks at him like he’s hung the moon for her. She has never denied him anything, no matter what kinds of depraved things he’s wanted to do with her. Hesitated, yes, but she has never said no. Never called red, never asked him to stop. Not when he first told her to call him “sir”, not when he spanked her for the first time, not when he’s edging her until she’s barely coherent, not when his fingers tightened around her throat for the first time. He could leave her a crying, shaking mess on the floor, and by the end of the night she’d still look up at him with those wide eyes and thank him.

It’s addictive and he can’t stop, always comes back for more when it feels like his whole life is spiraling out of his control again, when the darkness around him is threatening to swallow him whole. She’ll let him grab at her with rough hands, mold her body into any shape he wants, let him spit filth at her and let lose until he feels grounded again, until some of the darkness around him has dissipated.

Lately, work has been weighing on him even harder. Maybe he’s just getting older, maybe he has finally reached his limit, he’s not sure. With the whole week off, an incredibly rare occurrence, he knew who he wanted to spend it with. She had seemed stressed lately, like she needed a break too, so it was easy to convince himself that he was doing this for her. That it wasn’t just a selfish plan of his to spend more time with her.

Because somewhere along the way he has come to enjoy the time with her way too much. He enjoys lying in bed together, both of them catching their breaths, laughing about a stupid joke, the little tidbits from her life that she shares with him, the rare occasions when they’re walking around her neighborhood. The way she shyly grabbed his hand the first time, like she was scared that he would pull it away. The smile that she tried to but couldn’t hide when he didn’t.

This isn’t right and it’s not going to last, he’s well aware of that. As clear as he has been about his intentions, he still feels like he’s leading her on sometimes. But it feels too good to stop, to let go of one of the few comforts that he has in life.

The past few days with her have been heaven. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would enjoy spending so much uninterrupted time with her, how good it would feel to be around her the entire day, just watching her be herself and listening to her talking. And he has been talking as well, the feeling of speaking to someone without an ulterior motive, of someone listening to him just because they wanted to, more meaningful to him than he could put into words.

And all throughout, she had so willingly bent to his every wish, put all her trust into him, secure in the knowledge that in the end, he would take care of her.

So, Dave had let his guard down. Relaxed. Then the dream happened.

Last night, he had come home to find the girls slaughtered in their house, their small bodies soaked in blood. It’s a recurring nightmare, a fear that he can never entirely shake off, that haunts his subconscious every couple of weeks. He’s being thorough in his work, never leaving loose ends, keeping his private life concealed from the world that he moves in. The risk that anything could happen to them is as low as he can push it, but it’s not zero. Never zero, and it’s eating at him. Usually, he wakes up alone, gasping for breath, the sheets soaked with sweat. Him and Carol haven’t slept in the same bed for a long time.

Last night, it had been different. It had been different because she had been there beside him, shaking him awake and holding him in her arms until he calmed back down. It had also been different because she had been part of the dream. Just as dead, just as blood-soaked as his daughters.

She had been so sweet when he woke up, and it broke his heart. He wasn’t a good person. He was endangering everyone around him, he was endangering her by not being able to end this thing with her, and yet here she was, oblivious, comforting him.

He had always thought that eventually, he would be the one to break things off. But what if it was her? What if she figured out what a pathetic excuse of a man he was, that he couldn’t give her anything? Not a real relationship, and no future. He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t let her see who he was. What he did, what he was afraid of - and just how realistic those fears were.

He couldn’t even bear to picture the look on her face if he ever told her. The betrayal, the disgust, and eventually the fear. He couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t. But how could he go on with this, knowing that every minute that he spends with her, he puts her in danger? Someone could find out. Someone could find her.

So does what he does best. Makes a plan. Suppresses his emotions until he’s sure of what to do. How to keep her safe. The logical part of his mind arrives at a solution pretty quickly: She’ll be safest if she stays away from him.

The emotional part of him, the part that he tries to keep shut down, doesn’t approve of this idea.

He has to tell her. Sooner rather than later, while the dream is still fresh in his memory, while he can still see her dead body when he closes his eyes.

Because he obviously knew about the dangers of being with him when he first laid eyes on her. When he kissed her for the first time, texted her for the first time, walked up to her apartment for the first time, when he booked this damn vacation because he’s unable to stay away from her. Unable to think straight when it comes to her. There’s a million reasons why he shouldn’t be with her and yet, he always finds a reason not to quit.

He tells himself that he’ll speak to her as soon as she gets up. Then once he’s done with his phone call. Maybe after they’ve had breakfast. At the end of the day, when they’re back in the room. He never does. He can’t.

The tension has become unbearable at that point. He knows that she’s confused, that she has questions that he doesn’t have answers for. His life feels out of control once again, so he tries gaining it back in the only way that he knows.

He half expected her to refuse him, but she seems just as relieved as he feels when he tells her to get down on her knees. Afterwards, he doesn’t feel better. Possibly hates himself even more.

He can tell that she’s off afterwards, and he’s battling himself to comfort her. This is not what he should be doing. None of this is what he should be doing.

Usually, she tucks herself into the space between his shoulder and his chest before he can even say a word. Not tonight. Tonight, she had her back turned to him before he had even switched off the lights, the “good night” that she normally breathes against his neck nothing more than a murmur from her side of the bed.

He stares at her backside in the darkness of the room, the way she seems to be curling in on herself, and he has no idea what to do. What they just did seemed like what she wanted, she had appeared eager, enthusiastic even, but maybe he read her wrong. Shit, he hadn’t even asked for her color once.

It’s quiet for a long time. He finally feels himself slowly drifting off to sleep, when her hears her sniffle. His eyes fly open again. It’s only minimal movements, but he can see her tremble ever so slightly. Fuck it, he thinks to himself as he reaches out towards her.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

You tense at his words, at the fact that he’s apparently awake. Has probably been the whole time. You try your hardest to make your voice sound normal, even though you know that it’s pointless.

“Nothing.”

It comes out even weaker than you had anticipated. You keep your back to him and feel him shuffling closer, his hand gently pulling at your shoulder to turn you towards him. “Baby. Talk to me.” His voice is soft in your ear and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. Baby. He has never called you Baby before. You feel a fresh wave of tears welling up in your eyes and shake your head but let him turn you around until you’re facing him.

His eyes search your face in the faint moonlight that’s filtering into the room and his hands cup your damp cheeks, his thumbs gently running over the skin under your eyes. The worry that’s so evident in his expression right now makes you want to break down. You’re exhausted, and confused, and you don’t understand the man in front of you and his contradictory behavior at all. So far you’ve been crying silently, but you can feel your bottom lip trembling as you try to suppress the sobs that are threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Did I- shit, was I too rough, did I hurt you? You didn’t say anything, but I never asked- I should’ve checked, I’m sorry, I-“

“You didn’t hurt me,” you whisper, cutting off his frantic rambling. He didn’t, not in the way that he’s referring to, anyway.

“Then what’s wrong?” he pleads, his hands still on your face, “Talk to me.” You inhale deeply. You really don’t want to have this conversation, but maybe it’s best like this. Rip the bandaid off, make it quick.

“Do you want to leave?”

Your voice breaks on the last word. He stares at you for a beat, his eyes wide. “Do I- What?” You shrug, unable to bring yourself to ask a second time. One of his hands slides down to your shoulder, holding you there. He doesn’t speak, his eyes boring into you.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer, your eyes dropping down to his chest instead. “You’ve been… weird. Today. I thought- I don’t fucking know, that I had done something or that you’ve-” a sob breaks free and interrupts you, “that you’ve had enough of me. That you don’t want to go on with… this.” You gesture helplessly between the two of you.

You’re certain that now you’ve said too much, that if he hadn’t had enough before, he definitely has now. You’re supposed to be fun, a distraction, not someone who’s clinging to him, but you’re feeling too exhausted, too raw to keep pretending like this thing between you doesn’t mean something. To you, at least.

“Fuck,” Dave mumbles, and you gaze up to see the anguish in his eyes before his arms envelop you and he presses you against his chest, speaking into your hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

It’s quiet for a minute as you’re inhaling his scent, trying to calm yourself down, when something occurs to you. “You didn’t say no,” you whisper into his chest, “you said that I didn’t do anything, but… you didn’t say that you don’t want to leave.” Dave freezes for just a second, searching your face, then he sighs heavily. He sounds defeated, you think.

“No, I don’t want to leave.”

taglist/people who have expressed interest in this: @joelscurls @reddedmiller @iamasaddie @guelyury @theywhowriteandknowthings @amanitacowboy @corazondebeskar @vabeachazn @mellymbee @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @no1-nosesitter

let me know if you wanna be added, also no hard feelings if you wanna be removed! 🫶🏻

if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

series masterlist

[dirty-bosmer]

Fandom: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Relationship: Mathieu Bellamont/Lucien Lachance but in the "haha, I think of you nonstop and want to kill you so bad that I'll cut you open and crawl inside your skin to be inside you" sort of way :) content warning: dissolution of the self, murder and the grief that accompanies it.

I just really love Mathieu Bellamont, okay? He gives me more excuses to write angst. Here I wanted to write a series of microfics that explore the tragic relationships he has with the people in his life, past and present

Preview:

Because at nine you saw His sickness in the flesh, an evil so mindless, so monstrous that your little voice couldn’t yet find the words to name it anything but death. Because death’s fist clenches much further than its arm can reach, and only in her absence did you learn her passing had killed the both of you, that beyond the artifice, beneath the skin, it was all blood and bone and borrowed time.

Remember the breeze? Remember its salt tang? Remember the snap of the sails in the harbor, the rolling rhythm of Wayrest’s waters, how sharp the first breath hit the back of our throats when we rose from the white-wash, hand in hand?

When we were together— alone together— we were perfect, could have stayed like that forever. Weren’t you happier too when it was just the two of us, you and I away from Father? If only you knew what I knew, that nothing else really mattered. Together, we were whole. Mother, why did you have to bring us back to that house we knew was never a home?

— from the diary of Mathieu Bellamont

—

Because at nine you saw His sickness in the flesh, an evil so mindless, so monstrous that your little voice couldn’t yet find the words to name it anything but death. Because death’s fist clenches much further than its arm can reach, and only in her absence did you learn her passing had killed the both of you, that beyond the artifice, beneath the skin, it was all blood and bone and borrowed time. Ten thousand suns and ten thousand more to come— they rise, each one, like the weals left by biting gnats. As a boy, all your wounds too were circles, and sometimes you wonder, were there anything left of him, what shape would he have become?

The shadows pulse along the sanctuary wall— yours, a gnarl of limbs bent by the weight of accruing grief that as a boy frightened you so much you fell asleep with your eyes open. Hours you’d spend watching your silhouette warp in the receding light, convinced even your own body could betray you. And why shouldn’t it? Flesh deceived you once before, and your father’s blood beats within you still, a traitor’s poison. Hear it sloshing. Hear it straining, slow and viscous, stirred by some feat of necromantic magic keeping your corpse tethered to Nirn. Yes, though these eyes blink and this mouth moves, you hang beneath the surface of the skin. The hand in the puppet, the echo of an old command, yet there is no more man here than there is in a persistent haunting. Were you a curse or were you never more than an afterthought of Arkay’s to begin with? See, it’s not so much death you’ve cheated as it’s life you’ve managed to escape, but men as small as you can do that when made up of empty space.

Your existence has been no more than an exercise in breathing as little as possible, taking only from Nirn what is needed to carry onward one more day. Consume too much of life, and you risk dissolving the formlessness you’ve cultured. Someone might notice, reach out and touch you, pull you off your liminal stage. Pray tell, what happens then? Do you precipitate? A deposition? Can you turn the vapor back to crystal, form the memory of what was into the man who should have been? If someone called your name, could you answer sure and without wincing? Could you level a stare, gaze back into the eyes of the damned and living and see reflected there the shape of you, the quake of you? Could you risk it?

To go on knowing that maybe you weren’t drowned completely, that all this time you could have saved yourself if only you had reached, that when Arkay turned his back and let the dead wash up, blue and bloated, maybe your mother’s life wasn’t the one you’d been brought back to retrieve.

And are you both or are you neither when all that’s left of her is your face? No, no. Tell yourself she is not gone, merely going, and keep your grip tight even if it demands all of your strength, because wherever she is, there you are too. Remember that her heart beat once for the both of you, and though what you share now is not life, it is sacred— a bond more binding than your father’s blood. How could anyone else comprehend it? The others sleeping in the sanctuary will never know you’re not their brother, already someone else’s son. And you’re a son as long as you remember that you are a part of her, the heart of her, that even before you came into this world, you were wanted, you were loved.

And if the boy you were was still here, would you recognize him? Would he, you, lying awake as you are now, dry eyes turned to the horizon’s beginning light? Imagine him somewhere on the water, trawled up and imploded, body misshapen, his smile split like an open coffin. Imagine him shadowless and shapeless, lying still and blistering with hope as he waits for the next of ten thousand suns for the day he’s made back into one.

Take comfort then in having been born again a ghost, for you do not look to the future. There is none.

[janesociety]

daddy issues, pt ii

tony stark x teen!reader

type: angst, hurt/comfort (?)

summary: you aren’t getting better- tony knows it, you know it, and so does everyone else.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of death and dying. reader is very sick. medical procedures like surgery and an iv.

pt i

masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

You were getting better. That’s what Tony had kept telling you, at least.

You weren’t all that convinced.

You woke up almost a whole day later with Tony’s hand in yours. He was always softer with you than other people, but not like this. He rarely left your side the entire time you were out, and once you woke up, he still seemed to check in on you regularly- sometimes for hours at a time.

Bruce eventually took you off the oxygen, but the IV remained in your arm- much to your dismay. He kept running tests, everything he tried coming up blank, but he wasn’t going to stop until you were better.

“You don’t have to sit in here all day and watch me sleep,” you spoke up one day as you groggily rolled onto your side. Tony set the book he was reading off to the side. “I won’t wither away just because you’re not here.”

“Oh, please, we all know you’d burn the place down if we left you alone long enough,” Tony said, adjusting his position in the plastic chair he was sitting in. “That’s why we had to put your room next to Steve’s- popsicles don’t burn, they melt.” You couldn’t help the laugh that flowed from your lips at the lame joke. Even if it was followed by a small coughing fit. “Take it easy, kiddo,” Tony said, scooting closer to your bed. “Don’t wear yourself out.”

You gave a small head nod in response, suddenly feeling weaker than before. Tony leaned back in his seat, picking his book back up.

“Tony?” you asked. He hummed in response. “Am I dying?”

“No, of course not,” he said, a little too quickly in your opinion.

“I’d want you to be honest with me if I was,” you said, playing with your fingers. The small act was making your hands ache, so you stopped, resting them over your stomach.

Tony reached over, careful to avoid the wires sticking out of you, taking your hand in his.

“You’re not dying, Y/N,” he said firmly.

You still knew he was lying.

Within the next two days, things only seemed to get worse. All the Avengers were now taking shifts by your side- usually with a lot of overlap as each lasted hours at a time. You’d been put back on oxygen when you began complaining of being so tired that it hurt to breathe.

You tried to put on a brave face for the rest of them, even if you could read all their faces and knew that they knew something you didn’t. You never cried or complained. You didn’t question anyone about you dying again, simply accepting it as a fact. Of course it was going to happen one day, but you couldn’t help that you were sad it was so soon.

“Please tell me you have something,” Tony said as he entered the lab adjacent to the med bay.

“I might,” he said, putting some scam results he took up on a board. “I think it’s connected to her powers. You see, she got them from HYDRA, right? Now that’s not easy- it takes advanced biotechnology to be able to give someone powers without killing them. You already know that, I suppose.” Tony resisted the urge to snap at Bruce for taking so long with his explanation. “Well, I think they installed some kind of self destruct along with. Like a biological timer to keep their ‘goods’ from being kept in the wrong hands.” Tony kept harsh eye contact with Bruce. “It’s causing her body to shut down.”

“But you can fix it, right?” Tony said, staring at the black and white images that meant nothing to him.

“We’re running out of time,” Bruce said, clearing his throat. “Once it gets past a certain point, it may… it may just be better to let her go.”

“No, we’re not doing that,” Tony said, barely letting Bruce finish and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tony-“

“I promised her she wasn’t dying and I will not be made into a liar,” he said, harshly. Bruce looked away from him, the monitor on his desk displaying your vitals in the next room. Tony sighed. “Just tell me what you need. Doctors, staff, medical equipment- I can get you anything you need in the next two hours.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You were pretty out of it for the next few days. When you were conscious, you were in pain, and when you slept, you were restless and often had nightmares. In the times you were awake, you were aware enough to know there was now a team of medical professionals checking in on you at all times. You felt like a guinea pig with how many people were constantly examining, touching, and prodding at you at all times.

Tony still stayed close, albeit a bit farther back after being snapped at by a doctor one too many times for being in the way.

Even if your eyes hardly opened for more than ten minutes at a time, you were always acutely aware of the number of people around you. Most of the Avengers sat with Tony around your bed and you kept hearing things along the lines of “go to bed, Nat,” and “we’ll come get you if anything changes, Steve,” and “if I fall asleep, wake me up when she does.”

You could hear the hushed whispers of doctors talking to Tony or Bruce over your head. You could hardly focus long enough to catch any of what they were saying, but when you heard a doctor say “Let’s step into the hall,” you knew it wasn’t good.

“Unless we can figure out what’s killing her,” Dr. Klein, an older woman and one of the best immunologists in the Northern Hemisphere, said, “we’re going to just be barely keeping her alive. Her quality of life is rapidly deteriorating and I believe she may be taking a turn for the worse.” Tony watched you through the window, surrounded by machines, doctors, and superheroes. “I thought I should let you know that it may be time to discuss hospice options in the event there’s nothing else we can do.”

Tony didn’t answer her. He just stood, watching you. He shut down any time anyone brought up you dying. He couldn’t help it. Imagining a world without you just seemed so impossible he couldn’t even fathom the reality he was being faced with.

Dr. Klein’s pager beeped and she excused herself, leaving Tony alone.

“Steve?” you said, your mouth dry from how long it’d been since you spoke. The others around the bed, including Steve, collectively stood and walked closer to you. You could tell Wanda, Bucky, and Sam were there and were somewhat surprised that Tony wasn’t.

“I’m here,” Steve said, taking one of your hands and leaning closer to you to hear your weak sounding voice.

“What’s going on?” you asked, not actually wanting to know what was going on, but rather wanting to have a conversation with someone. You hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to any of them and it was starting to get quite boring only being stuck with your thoughts and nightmares.

“You’re in the hospital still,” he said, stroking your hair back.

“Oh,” was all you could muster, mentally kicking yourself for sounding more confused than you were. You had to take a moment, the small sentences winding you. “Can you talk to me?” you croaked, your voice sounding scratchy. “All of you?”

“‘Course, doll,” Bucky answered, grabbing his chair and moving it forward. You mustered up a small smile, but it disappeared the moment it was there. The thought crossed his mind that he preferred it when you were screaming and thrashing, because then at least you could move. He mentally kicked himself for even comparing the two.

“Anything you want to hear about?” Steve asked. You wanted to say yes and list off all the things you wanted to talk about since you got sick, but your throat was already so sore from talking. You shook your head no.

Sam leaned forward in his seat. “Why don’t I tell you about mine and Bucky’s training session the other day?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile, seeing Bucky immediately turn red.

“Hey now-“

“C’mon, Buck,” Sam said, feigning offense, “you’re going to deny the girl this funny story just because she wasn’t there to experience it?” Bucky just shook his head. “Anyway, as I was saying…”

You tried to stay awake. You really did. But you kept nodding off anyway, jumping awake every few minutes to tell him to keep going.

“I can finish the story later, Y/N,” he said after the eighth time you’d fallen asleep.

“No, no,” you said, coughing slightly. “Just keep going. I want to hear your voice.” You took notice of Wanda’s silence, reaching out suddenly for her hand. She took it, squeezing it a few times as she tried to keep tears from her eyes. She’d already lost one sibling. She couldn’t lose another, even if you weren’t blood.

“So Bucky decided it was a good idea to get up again-“

“Excuse me,” a doctor said, rushing up to your bed with what seemed to be a whole medical team and a few other doctors you recognized behind him. “I’m sorry, I need you all to step back.” He was being quite rude with his tone, you thought. Everyone did as they were told, but you kept your feeble grip on Wanda’s hand.

“Ma’am-“

“Please,” you spoke up, staring weakly at him. He glared down at you.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath. Nurses moved all around you, messing with the machines, your IV, one even shining a light in your eyes. You’d gotten somewhat used to people randomly walking up to you and poking at you or shoving things in your face, but with so many people it quickly became overwhelming. You squeezed Wanda’s hand tighter, beginning to shake a little.

Finally a familiar face appeared over you.

“Y/N,” Bruce said, leaning over your bed. “We’re gonna take you back to surgery, okay? Everything’s gonna be alright.” You began to shake more and Wanda put a hand over yours in a weak attempt to comfort you.

Tears were forming in your eyes, suddenly feeling the most scared you had been since you got sick.

“No,” you cried out weakly. “Please.” Tears streamed sideways down your face, either hitting the oxygen tube around your ears or your hair. Even if you were barely conscious most of the time, you wanted to be aware before you died. You didn’t want to go out on a metal table. The idea of not being able to feel yourself slipping terrified you.

“It’s going to be alright, you’re in good hands,” Bruce said as your bed began moving. Wanda’s hand slipped out of yours and you waved it around frantically trying to find hers again.

“No, please, no,” you whispered, barely processing where you were going. All you could see were the lights overhead as they rolled you down the hall. Everything else took too much effort to focus on. You came to a sudden stop in a dark room. Your cries became louder.

“Y/N, listen to me, sweetheart,” Bruce said, appearing in front of you again, “everything’s going to be alright. You’re going to be okay.” As he was speaking, someone removed your oxygen tube and put an oxygen mask over your face. “You’re alright.”

“You’re okay.”

“Everything’s alright.”

That was the last thing you remember.

Fortunately for you, the Avengers, and, by extension, Earth (because who knows what would’ve happened if they’d really lost you), you woke up a little over a day later.

You still felt sore- all the muscles in your body burning even as you laid flat on a bed. You were still exhausted. Beyond exhausted, even. Your eyelids and limbs are so heavy you could barely move. You could feel the now familiar feeling of an oxygen tube under your nose. It calmed you in some way.

The only real difference you could identify is you didn’t feel like you were being drained. Like the life was no longer being sucked out of you.

When you finally got your eyes opened, it took a minute for everything to come into focus. The overhead lights that had been on almost the entire time you were sick before were now dimmed, which you were thankful for considering being blinded was not the first thing you wanted to experience once you woke up. You turned your head slightly, still unsure of moving your body. The only person next to your bed now was Tony, just like the first time you woke up there.

He was holding your hand again, which you had to look down to realize because you were still trying to regain meaningful feeling in most of your body. He was asleep, slumped forward with his head resting on his arm against your bed. Slowly, you moved each of your fingers, eventually resulting in you squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to wake up- using his free hand to rub his eyes and check the time before he finally looked up and saw you staring back at him.

“Hey,” he said, leaning forward so he was closer to your head. He held your hand now in both of his so that it was next to his face. “How are you feeling?” You cleared your throat, not feeling the ache in your lungs you’d grown accustomed to over the long week.

“Amazing,” you said, cracking a smile. Your voice was weak and hoarse, but all Tony could focus on was the fact that your eyes were actually focusing on him- not in the distance, not nodding off, at him. He laughed at the absurdity of your response, and so did you, but you stopped once you realized his had turned to sobs. You didn’t know what to do at first. For one, Tony Stark was crying in front of you. Not only that, he was crying about you. And secondly, you were still feeling a bit drowsy from anesthesia and processing everything was taking just a bit longer.

“Tony,” you said, haphazardly moving your other hand to sit on top of his that were still around your other hand. “Please don’t cry.” He smiled, tears still running down his face as he rested his forehead on the stack of hands you’d both created.

“We thought we’d lost you,” he said, his shoulders still shaking as he squeezed your hand tighter. He looked up at you, his face red. You grinned at him.

“You didn’t really think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi. I don’t know if I’ve requested here before, but I have a (semi) great idea.

The rundown is somehow Caine found a karaoke machine! This leads to an iha where everyone + reader and Caine sing. (Honestly I just want to see what you’d think they’d sing).

Thank you!❤️❤️

KARAOKE TIME IN THE CIRCUS!

quick warning that you guys are about to be exposed to my music taste because i rarely ever listen to songs that dont fit my tastes so uh uh theres your warning, i know i have a warning somewhere on my acc where i say OOC is a possibility but i think it will really shine through here short post since its just me dropping what song i think each character would sing + links! this actually reminds me, ive had an IHA idea where its basically a musical episode where everyone cant talk, only sing but idk what the actual adventure itself would be and how music would tie in shrugs

CAINE:

as much as i wanna say hello world by louie zong, because AI stuff and bc ive been listening to it for the past hour on loop, i feel like that would be too on the nose and even completely out of character. so instead i suggest jerryterrys version of the boys are back in town

for one i am absolutely obsessed with jerryterrys version of the song above, as well as kiss me (kill me), i highly recommend you guys check out the music videos and put together the lore (CW for body horror in kiss me kill me, though!)

but like, my brain juices are flowing, like. i can see him singing the original, but imagine how unnerving it would be (assuming caine is actually going to be an antagonist) for the words to just. change and come out wrong in front of everyone

also i just want an excuse to gush about jerryterry

i love when people make song covers that sound like the original but theres something so terribly wrong

actually i love songs like that in general

caine gets two, because i can also see him singing charlie's inferno

POMNI:

oddly enough i can see pomni being into vocaloid and/or songs from anime. maybe its because her voice actor has voiced someone in JJBA and that fact is plaguing my mind, but i can now distinctly hear pomni singing some of my favorite songs in these genres... alas i dont have a set song in mind: so i will give you a song that does not fit the above at all, everyones favorite classic; come along with me from AT

JAX:

i give him, the main character by will wood because i can definitely see him singing this to be a little shit as well as genuinely. kind of seeing him enjoy the song

not much to say here since im not totally sure what jax would listen to :(!

RAGATHA:

okay i know i just brought up jerryterry's kiss me kill me, but that reminded me of the original kiss me because it does give me ragatha vibes

KINGER:

stumped on kinger, but first song that comes to mind is able by jack stauber i have nothing to explain this, but i will partially blame me listening to jack stauber a lot to be the reason

ZOOBLE:

cant explain this one either, i think its the tone of the voice but also im getting back into the scary jokes and

yeah

anyways icicles by the scary jokes , i can just see it

GANGLE:

okay so this one is less of a "i can see gangle singing this" and more of a "this makes me think of gangle" but imma put it here anyway since i dont have any other ideas for her !

today today by jack stauber

[ktkat99]

Ao3 is down. I'll be posting here.

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 2. Isolation Chamber

Tim raised his fist to knock on Bruce's bedroom door, but froze.

He was being stupid.

This wasn't something he needed an adult for.

This wasn't something he needed to bother Bruce with.

But… he wanted to.

He exhaled and dropped his hand, head swimming.

He didn't need to wake Bruce.

He didn't need to bother him.

It wasn't like he'd never been sick before.

He coughed harshly and leaned back against the wall, sliding down to sit beside his adoptive father's closed door, letting his forehead rest against his knees.

He'd felt lousy when they'd returned from patrol, but since he'd lost his spleen that was nothing new. He could usually just deal with the fatigue, but this wasn't that.

He wasn't feeling any better, even though he'd been laying in bed for the past several hours. He felt hot, sweaty, sore, and completely exhausted.

His throat hurt.

He kept coughing.

And his ears wouldn't stop ringing no matter what he tried.

He wanted help.

He wanted someone to take over and make him feel better. He'd tried everything and just felt worse and worse.

But, at the same time, Tim knew he was nearly an adult. He didn't need attention like some kid, but he was just… so tired.

Yyyyy

"Tim, wake up."

He tried to.

He really did.

But his eyes were glued shut.

Every muscle ached like he'd just gotten back from mountain climbing.

His head wouldn't focus.

"Tim!"

It was hot.

Way too hot.

"Bruce? What's going on?"

"Get Alfred! Now, Dick!"

He heard a whimper and felt a large hand rub his chest. "Shh, shh. You're going to be okay. Just stay with me. Open your eyes.

Everything felt like it was spinning. He could feel his breaths coming out in desperate, short gasps.

"Jay, go get a thermometer."

"Hm? Why..? Oh, shit."

He coughed, body spasming.

Why couldn't he open his eyes?

Why… why was it so hot?

"You're going to be okay. Just stay with me."

Yyyyy

Cloth was around his eyes when he woke up.

He… he felt something in his hand.

"Tim? Tim, can you hear me?"

"'ruce..?" His throat was killing him, and he hadn't expected talking to be as hard as it was.

The thing in his hand moved and he was able to tell that… it was another hand.

Someone was… holding his hand?

"It's me, buddy. How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" He was so hoarse he almost didn't even recognize his own voice.

"You're sick, buddy. I shouldn't have let you go up against Freeze without backup. You fainted in the hall sometime yesterday morning."

"Sorry." He breathed. "What're you doin' here?"

"Making sure you're doing alright. You scared the hell out of me, Tim."

"S'rry." He was tired.

Confused.

Dizzy.

"Don't apologize."

"You don't… need to stay. Imma be fine."

Something brushed his head, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back. "I'm staying. Deal with it."

Bruce's voice was soft, but he could hear that he was smiling.

"Mm. Tired." He whispered.

"You can sleep. I'll still be here."

Yyyyy

The next time Tim woke up, there was beeping.

He felt the tickle of a nose cannula, and the pressure of tape holding an IV in his arm.

He was so cold.

"Bruce..?" He whispered.

The only thing he heard was the beeping of machines.

He still couldn't see.

His bones felt like lead weights.

"Bruce?" He tried to speak louder, but irritated his throat and fell into a coughing fit.

The beeps changed.

An alarm sounded.

There was a hiss, like a sealed door sliding open.

"Breathe. Come on, Tim. Breathe. In and out."

A hand rubbed his chest, helping to calm his fit.

"That's it. That's it, buddy. You're going to be okay."

Bruce..?

He sounded worried.

Tim turned his head towards the voice.

"Said… you'd be here."

The hand stilled on his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry. But you took a turn for the worse, and with your spleen, we couldn't take any chances."

"Where..?"

"You're in the cave. We had to set up the bio room for you."

Tim felt chilled all over again, for an entirely different reason.

The med bay was always kept sterile, but was also equipped with recessed, air-tight walls that could be pulled out to seal the room off completely in case of emergency.

It was mainly used in cases of bioweaponry, dangerous patients, or in need of a holding cell. In other words, he was in isolation.

"Tim, please." His hand was picked up by a gloved hand and pressed to a chest. "Breathe. Like this. You can do it."

He tried.

He really, really tried.

"Tim, you need to breathe slower."

"Please." He croaked. "Please."

"Tim, you're hyperventilating." A second hand combed through his hair, but stopped when the glove ended up just tugging his hair.

"Don' leave. Don't wanna be alone."

The hand holding his hand against Bruce's chest tightened.

"Buddy, I'm so sorry. It's for your own good."

"I'll be good." He felt wetness on his face and couldn't tell if it was tears or sweat.

He'd always been left alone when he was sick.

His parents always had work, and the people they worked with didn't need to be getting a child's cold passed onto them.

His father tended to… fancy… the nannies which meant his mother fired and rehired them too fast for any of them to care too much about his comfort while sick.

Bruce…

He used to bring him soup and hot drinks.

He used to sit with him.

He…

He used to… be there.

"Don't leave." He whispered through gasps. "Please..?" He was definitely crying now.

"Tim, buddy. It's for your own good. I'm sorry. I'm… Timmy, I'm so sorry."

"I'll be good. Please. Please don't leave."

"I have to. I'm sorry. I- I shouldn't even be in here now."

"No. No, no, no. Please, please. I don't want to be alone."

The intercom blipped to life. "Bruce, he needs to be sedated. His heart rate's way too high, and he's panicking."

"Tim-,"

"Please. Don't do this. I don't want to be alone."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Timmy. It's for your own good."

He felt a prick in his neck and his brain started to fog.

He was tired.

His hand grew limp.

"I'm sorry, Timmy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, son."

The last thing he felt was his hand being laid across his own chest.

The last thing he heard was the hiss of the door closing.

The last thing he knew, was that he was once again alone.

[enigmatist17]

Eh, just an idea that came to mind </3

--------------------

He's on the Resolute when he opens his eyes.

Well, that shouldn't be even remotely possible, Rex knows for a fact he died on Yavin IV.

He knows he died.

"Rex? Is everything alright?" Shaking his head, Rex is grateful he's wearing his bucket when he turns to see Ahsoka, a young Ahsoka with so much life to her, looking up at him expectantly.

"I, yes, sorry." Rex somehow wills his voice to remain steady, and Ahsoka raises her eyebrow.

"Right...so, are we still going to train with Jesse or what? I'm hoping to get at least an hour in before Master Anakin forces me to try and sleep." The padawan rolls her eyes, missing the way Rex allows himself a shaky breath as he wordlessly follows Ahsoka down hallways that he traveled in his nightmares.

"Hey, what took you guys so long?" Jesse waved when the two entered, and Ahsoka hurried her pace into the training room with a grin. "Hardcase and I are betting who can take you down first, and I plan on winning."

"In your dreams!" Hardcase laughed, shoving him goodnaturedly as some of the other men watched their banter in amusement.

"For the record, he has gotten further than you." Dogma pointed out, and smirked when Hardcase looked betrayed.

"You have to step your game up, otherwise all those delicious ration packs might be eaten." Fives laughed from where he and Echo were arm wrestling, lamenting when Echo managed to take his momentary distraction to his advantage. "Kriff."

"What was that about never losing?" Echo grinned, the expression faltering when he looked behind Fives. "Captain, are you alright?"

Every set of eyes in the room darted over to the door just as Rex's knees hit the floor, and the playful energy in the room vanishes as Ahsoka is the first to reach his side. He can hear her talking to him, but the ringing in his ears drowns over every word as small fingers probe him for injuries that aren't there, skin devoid of the scars he would come to earn later in his life. Kix is kneeling in front of him now, and Rex jerks back when the medic tries to lift his helmet off, scrambling to his feet and away from the mass of soldiers who were extremely concerned at seeing their captain acting out of the ordinary.

"Captain, talk to us." Fives approaches him with his hands raised, and Rex wants to joke about not being some scared animal, but every word he could have said just seem to get stuck in his throat as he just stares. "Please, let us help."

"I..." He sounds like he's been screaming for hours, and motions for Fives to step back as he regards the people in front of him.

"Hey, is everything alright in here?"

The universe stops as Rex turns ever so slightly to look at the other entrance to the training room, and has his blasters out and pointed before he can even blink.

"What the hell is going on?!" Jesse hissed, everyone remaining still as if the slightest movement could trigger Rex to fire. "Are you out of your mind Rex?!"

"Rex, buddy, what are you doing?" Anakin holds both of his hands up, staring back at the man who has both blasters focused directly at his head. While the Jedi might not be the best shooter, he knows when someone is aiming to kill, and more so when they're terrified of their target. The raw fear and anger spilling into the Force from Rex could probably be felt all the way to Coruscant, and Anakin can only wonder what's changed in the last hour since they had successfully completed their latest campaign.

"Stay right there." Rex nearly spits out the words to Anakin, and the Jedi doesn't move a muscle as Rex takes one step forward.

"Rex, talk to us." Ahsoka darted forward before anyone could protest, putting herself directly between Rex and Anakin. "We won't hurt you!"

"He would." The anger is gone from his voice, but his stance hasn't faltered for a moment as he readjusts his aim around her. "Move Ahsoka."

"No, I won't let you hurt Master Skywalker." She stood firm, and Rex finally looks away from Anakin down to her, and the sorrow that suddenly traveled through the Force nearly had her step back.

"Rex...what's happened to you?" Anakin doesn't flinch when Rex looks back up, just keeping his stance as calm as possible. "You can always talk to me about anything."

Rex shakes his head, and drops his arms with a strangled noise no one in the room had heard before, his guns clattering to the floor as he sinks back onto his knees. Ahsoka once again kneels in front of him, and Rex doesn't fight her as she reaches up and removes his bucket, revealing a tear-stained face heavy with loss and exhaustion.

If someone had looked at Rex earlier in the day, he would not be the same man now openly showing his sorrow in front of them, as if he'd been carrying a burden for a long time.

"Rex, talk to us." Echo kneels beside his commander, feeling dread at the way Rex looks at him with a pained expression.

"We lost everything."

The Resolute stands motionless in her post as every single clone aboard is ordered to the hangar, to be addressed by Captain Rex.

He talks to them for hours and tells them of the future, a future he had died as the last clone from the army that had once stood as millions strong. How they were all created to be one thing, a weapon to wield against the Jetti, and bring about an end to the Republic they fought for so dearly. His voice breaks when he speaks of the day they all turned against their Jetti, of how he and Ahsoka became one of the last of the surviving 501st because he had headed Fives' warning and fought against the weapons inside their heads. Rex tells them of the Empire that rose from the ashes of the day they had their free will torn from them, how clones either served and died under the Empire, or were tortured and killed by the same. He speaks of their numbers dwindling in such a short time, until finally, he was the only one left, the only one who had helped bring the Empire to its death.

Rex is staring at Anakin when he speaks of the way he was manipulated by Palpatine, the Jedi looking horrified when he learns he became a Sith that killed too many innocents to mention. Rex is staring at Ahsoka when he speaks of the Rebellion that she helped build, and is haunted when he speaks of the day she died in his arms.

Rex isn't standing by the end, his voice hoarse as he's slumped against Fives, just speaking about everything vital until he finally goes silent. He watches as Kix and the medics all but vault for the exit, and Rex can breathe in relief when he knows that the chips will be found within minutes.

Rex is left with the Jetti alone in the hangar when the men filter back to their posts, all awaiting their turn to be seen by the medics. Ahsoka is hugging him as tight as she can, feeling so horrified and lost at what they had learned, and wanted Rex to feel that he wasn't alone again. Anakin is sitting by his side, one hand on Rex's shoulder, and the other holding up his lightsaber as he stares at it, suddenly finding his weapon fit more for an executioner rather than a Knight.

"Keep it." Rex's voice is barely above a whisper, and Anakin looks at him. "You're a symbol."

"No...not with what you told me." Anakin was a monster, so blind to trust Palpatine, who was using him rather than actually caring for him.

"You have time, use it." Slowly, Rex places his hand on the hilt, and with a hum, the familiar blue blade slides out. "You are a good Jedi."

"I promise to stay that way, I promise." Anakin puts his other hand over Rex's, and for the first time since he had to watch his own brothers die so long ago, Rex feels something.

Hope.

[who-the-fuck-knows-blog]

edit: i wrote this like an hour or two after the episode. was in a really dark place. am only in a slightly LESS dark place. just want to emphasize that i dont actually. blame. djenkins or like. idk. i cant tell how i feel because i don’t want to blame creatives for the effect their narratives have on me personally. i dont want to make a bigger deal than is necessary i just dont know what is right and wrong in this scenario. sorry. ive seen people saying blaming him or talking about this is bad. and im just in The Horrors with my mental illnesses so i’m paranoid i’m doing something wrong here. I’m not saying djenkins meant for this to be the result. i dont think he would at all believe that. i think he meant for the best to happen. its not his fault or responsibility that i feel this way and that others feel this way. i’m mentally ill. i am not the arbiter of truth or sanity. i don’t want to delete this because its a marker of a vent/emotion/situation i went through. but it does not reflect my current beliefs entirely.

christ alive maybe think about shit for a minute like. to be like “i like when mentor figures die so i wanted izzy to die for eds growth bc he was like a mentor to ed”. ed spent the entirety of the first two episodes abusing the fuck out of izzy, izzy nearly killed himself. izzy got his leg cut off.

and then we think “okay. well clearly, izzy isnt coping well because theres no way that was his actual fault” yk. like sane rational people who have been victims of abuse in the past and used similar coping mechanisms to protect ourselves and our images of our abusers because we loved them.

we think “the show can’t possibly be telling us that izzy deserved it.” and then. he says “i provoked you. its my fault you attacked me.” and its not criticized or shot down or retaliated against. he deserved to get abused because he was harsh and wanted blackbeard to exist because without him he felt unimportant to ed. because he needed that closeness with ed but was denied because of their lifestyle.

what you end up with isn’t a mentor figure who went through the horrors and then died after a fruitful life. you end up with a man who was severely traumatized, suicidal, drinking to cope, telling the other man that serially abused him that it was okay because he was asking for it. a man who was just discovering he could be safe now dying immediately after.

i dont care if thats how redemption arcs or character arcs are supposed to go, if you are supposed to give this character everything and then kill him because his purpose was served. that message will cause so much harm to a lot of people. it already has.

please can someone talk to me or something. engage with me. i dont feel good. im feeling really really bad.

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Twenty-Eight

It's been an hour since Stu left. I tried hitting the call button for a nurse because the pain in my side was insane. So I took it upon myself to go look for someone. I ripped the IV out of my arm and pulled everything else off of me and got out of bed. I groaned in pain and stood still for a few seconds to let the pain subside before moving towards the door.

There were supposed to be detectives or something posted outside the hospital and my room but when I opened the door nobody was there. "No wonder Stu got in so easily." As I walked down the hall I noticed that the only lights that were on were near the nurses station and the little lights near the baseboards on the walls every few feet.

I slowed down as I got closer and closer to the nurses station, stopping when I got to the end of the hall. It was quiet. No machines beeping. No talking from the nurses or noise from tvs coming from any of the rooms. I turned the corner to see the nurses station was empty. I walked further around it and gasped. There were two nurses laying on the floor in a pool of blood.

I spun around trying to see if I could see anyone or anything but there was nobody in sight. Just more blood; little drops of it leading down another hall. Now I know I should mind my own fucking business and just go back to my room, maybe try and call Dewey or the fucking police but curiosity killed the cat. Much like ghostface killed these nurses. Too soon?

I slowly made my way down the hall, following the drops of blood that turned into small pools. This had to be some kind of nightmare. This shit only happens in the movies. Of course, my life was a movie if I thought about it enough. At least there's a movie about my life. Not an accurate one but still.

Just as I was making my way around the corner I stopped and pressed myself against the wall. The blood belonged to one of the officers and the person responsible was standing over him. The all too familiar black robe and ghostface mask stood there, knife in hand and blood dripping from it. I walked along the wall backwards trying to be as quiet as I could. That was until I ran into a medication cart and knocked shit all over the floor.

Heavy boots hit the floor as they grew closer to me until the killer finally appeared within seconds. He stopped at the end of the hall and pointed his knife towards me, tilting his head. My eyes widened and I spun on my heels running down the hall as fast as I could. As I rounded a corner I heard the heavy footsteps of the killer chasing me. The adrenaline that started to pump through my veins helped numb the pain in my side.

I tired doors as I went but everyone of them were fucking locked. There's no way this was fucking real. How did my life turn into a real life fucking horror movie?! I stumbled around another corner not even bothering to look behind me. I could hear ghostface following me. I came to a stop when I saw the second officer laying on the floor, blood pooled around his body, guts on the outside and wrapped around his neck.

I turned around expecting to see the killer but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead of going back the way I came, I carefully walked around the dead officer trying to make sure I didn't step in the blood with my bare feet. The last thing I needed was to leave bloody footprints leading straight to me. My stomach turned at the sight of the brutal display. "There has to be someone here somewhere."

I was walking past a supply closet when the door opened and I was yanked inside. My scream was muffled by a hand over my mouth. "Shh. It's just me. It's just me, baby." I pulled out of his grip and pushed him away from me. "What the fuck?!" I whispered. Stu held up his hands and slowly brought a finger up to his lips. Just as I went to say something, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed in my ears.

The sliver of light that had been coming through the bottom of the door was blocked out. Someone was standing on the other side. Stu put all his body weight against the door with a hand on the handle. I guess it's a good thing the door opened inwards. What felt like hours but was only seconds the footsteps faded down the hall. The adrenaline was slowly leaving my body and the pain was hitting me hard.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I asked in a hushed tone. "They didn't have any of your favorite candy or snacks in the vending machines so I went out. When I got back to your room though…" I scoffed, "how convenient that you just show up and know exactly where I am."

"This whole floor is empty. The only people they had on it were those nurses, the useless pigs that were supposed to be watching you and you. The other half of this floor is also under construction. So it's not really hard to figure out where you were going to go." I rolled my eyes and slumped down onto the floor, holding my side. "Shit, babe, you're bleeding."

Stu knelt in front of me and lifted my shit to look at my side. "Okay, I'm going to go find this fucker. The stairs are just around the corner. Get downstairs. That pig out there called for backup before he was gutted. And before you ask, I was too busy looking for you." He walked closer to me, not that he wasn't already close to me with the small space we were in.

"Stay in here until the cops come. I'm going to go make sure that fucker is gone and then get the fuck out of here before they get here and find me then lock me away from you." He grabbed my face gently and kissed me. "I love you." I pushed him and shook my head. "Just go, Stu. Please." He nodded his. "Okay. Okay, I'm going. Just stay here, please."

He opened the door and disappeared. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes until I heard several people talking and slowly opened the door. "Hands up!" I gasped as a gun was shoved in my face. "Holy shit! I don't think you're supposed to stick a gun in the face of the girl you assholes were supposed to be protecting!" I held onto my side and leaned against the door.

"Yn!" I looked around the fucker who still had his gun pointed at me. Dewey came lu

limping over and pushed the gun away from me. "Are you okay?" He asked. I nodded my head, "yeah, just in a lot of pain and bleeding from moving too much." He nodded and led me away to the elevators.

"Well, have someone take care of that and make sure you get something for the pain. I'm so sorry, yn." I shook my head, "it's fine, Dewey. Who would have thought the killer would come here to try and kill me."

[thefluxqueen]

HIIII :) here to ask about the abyss tell me about it please please please love this sort of thing :3

HAIIII welcome :) to preface this im normal i swear. anyway The Abyss is what i like ta call my Horrible Horrible Maze, i made it w/ the goal of making the worst possible experience in minecraft to torment my friends ^_^

I enjoy putting people in situations and studying them :D 

On that note! everyone who runs the abyss (24 people at current count) I time and write a couple notes on them! the abyss is honestly half maze half personality test LMAO. at current moment the quickest time goes to @ghostpajamas with a baffling 03:24 (wild that he got out so quick, i win tho cause i haunt his dreams), and longest goes to the beloved @rendogdomesticated with 1:35:54 <3 special shout out ta my dearest @theoctagon tho wolff ur insane i love u. guy goes inta the abyss for fun and has like 10 pages and counting of insane person phsyical notes tryna map it out (hes reported that hes gone through the first one 60 times and the 2nd one 5 jesus chriiiistttt). the abyss is fond of Pilot :) also if wolff is the favourite than @potionofinstantdamage is the Least favourite, rude ass set the place on fire when he got stuck in there :( oof ouchie

Highlights from my notes include @quack-city running backwards and upon me asking Why, simply replied “what if there’s slenderman :(‘ ... cant argue w/ that! he also hadda stop mid run so we decided its funnier if he’s just stuck in there forever. @newtbeetle was in there for like an hour and would NOT shut up about Paul Dano the whole time which was a time (love u beebs. ur isnane). my two test runners are @kishdoodles and @officialgleamstar and they had about the same time but like Opposite reactions it was very funny, kish treated it like they were a streamer n kept a like constant chatter, and travvy was like DEAD silent the whole time n Intensely focused akjewkjr tbh outta all 24 runners trav’s been prob the most like, methotical bout it? LIKE I SAID personality test. i Love studying people. 

In regards to its origins I came up w/ the idea back in like feb/march ish of this year and from start to finish it took me like 2 weeks ish i was on the Grind. u dont understnad how much black concrete this thing took. hell on earth,,, darkwoods has an economy/shopping district and i bought out like All the sand/gravel available akjwekjr the rest i hadda gather myself n God gravel sucks. also ive killed So Many Squids. the 2nd abyss was much easier ta gather supplies for cause i could ask for help w/ supplies n i kept the first one a Complete secret minus my test runners (i hadda bitch at SOMEONE while makin it or i wouldve died i think. speakin of the first abyss has a death count of 13 and the 2nd one has like, 5 or somefin? rlly shouldve writen that down akjwerjk those are Entirely me dying in the process of buildin them btw. its not a true Spain Build unless its mildly dangerous <3) The 2nd one also made me learn redstone, notably i specifically studied Tango’s decked out process vids from s7, tho i really only stole like two aspects of it n i couldnt even get one ta work properly LMAO

The second abyss took me like, wayy longer ta make, bout two months ish (i finished it like mid july). not necessarily in actual like, time spent building but cause in the process of makin it i had Two month long events i was in (Voiceteam in may and Art fight in july) so that distracted me a bit wkwnekeneie Im a bit more secretive bout the second abyss in general since not That many people have actually ran it compared ta the first n theres actually like, Things that can be spoiled in there <3 i like seein peep’s initial reactions its much more satisfying.

This didnt happen w/ everyone but i think a like, Core part of running the abyss is getting emotionally attached ta weird things. i wouldve said just torches until a few days ago when Tac (onea the rat server mods) ran it and claimed the stack of pumpkin pies i gave her as family. But Prior Ta That several people have had very intense emotions bout the redstone torches, whether love or hate or both, key example ft dog: 

Also not everyone ive mentioned on this post is in darkwoods! ive got a server i world editted the abyss inta so non-server members can run it for fun and profit (more data for me) :) on that note ive been slowly infecting the rat gang server cause my friend’s in there alot n another friend of mine’s a mod so peeps in there’ve been runnin it lately :) shout out ta TalonMC for lettin me subject him ta the Horrors literally our first conversation, onea my more fun first impressions i’d say

In regards to lore the abyss is a parasitic entity that infects anyone who gets stuck in there n slowly compells them ta go build their own lmao. note that ive only called the second abyss the Second one and not Abyss 2, because its technically just The Abyss as well cause theres many of them i just made it second wowjdkenejd (a real example of this is Wolff gettin obsessed w/ the abyss n then goin n buildin his own build called the Tower :) very excited bout that) The Abyss has a weird like fucked up warlock bond w/ my goddess oc The Overseer :D Her design’s vaugely based off my irl friend @hotcollectionoftubs cause her creation The Hole on a creative world her n some other friends of mine are on was onea the main insperations for certain aspects of the abyss’ lore :D mainly the teal in the colour palette and the whole ‘the [hole/abyss] provides’ thing. 

(my reference images for her and 3rd pic's art i commissioned from the Lovely @opuntie):

my darkwoods chara, Snake, is a whole nother bag entirely (basic gist is they’re a dimension traveler not by choice and darkwoods is the 3rd world theyve been in, their deal’s worth a whole post of its own lmao) i built the first abyss entirely unrelated ta my chara just as like, fun weird build ta torment my friends w/o yaknow? but then as i was buildin the 2nd one i was like hmmmmmm. alotta things could make sense if i made this one built by Snake. so their retirement arc on darkwoods turned inta even MORE trauma! wahoo! poor guy deserves a break,,, (he will not be getting one). 

(pre abyss + post abyss. i gotta properly draw pre-darkwoods Snake at some point but this dudes changed Alot ill say that lmao. both crops from bigger pieces on my art blog @fluxydrawings)

Anyway thats basically it! ive got more details and things locked in my brain ill probably remember in like 2 days after postin this so theres a chance ill reblog this w/ extra shit later lmao, sides that tho the abyss is my babygirl n thank yall for showin interest ^_^

Memes n shit to end us off:

[loversgothic]

Maybe you've done it already and I missed it, but what would Gabriel's two-week-notice look like in the Ultradanse AU?

This has nothing to do with any other comments you have made about feral Gabriel or any other desire to see how he changes from The Gilded Nightingale to The Nightingale.

:3c. OOOHH. WELL

ive been really trying to think about that hard, since comparing the characters to those in fairytales and ballets tended to skew the story a bit.

and uh... my descriptions wont be the best.. im not the best at explaining things in ballet terms moreso just based on my perception of the art form and what i see in it through my eyes.

also im gonna go off of the concept that ultradanse is almost like a stage performance, a show

the most i can do to describe how it looks is to compare it to my vision for the first encounter with Odile/V1... because of the way i designed his lil costume he has a sort of princely look, and even though hes yknow. out to kill V1 because V1 traversed past his warnings, his dancing with V1 then is much more... poised. it might feel a bit distant, maybe it might even seem like hes unsatisfied doing it, as at the time there is no personal connection with V1, no love nor hatred. its not romantic, hardly so. i dont know if this is a good example, but i was thinking abt Prince Siegfried's dancing in Waltz: Tempo di valse...

once V1 is pretty much responsible for his 2-week notice, i like to think Nightingale/Gabriel starts to match V1's high energy, his grace is kinda going out the window... itd be much more intense. if its a pas de deux hes probably getting his fucking hands all over them like hes about to tear them apart. hes abandoning that princely facade. i feel like though in the second half a pas de deux between them would make them slow their pace. now that both of them are dancing together and able to match intensity, it starts to slow down into something more... romantic? yeah :3 i like to think this, this is where any romantic tension starts

now about how he changes from the gilded nightingale to the nightingale. you see... after their second encounter, Gabriel is convinced hes going to die, after all thats what he was told. once he returns from heaven, he seeks out V1 to ask of one final request. he doesn't want to die lonely, and asks V1 to dance with him until the final hour runs out. V1 has no reason to accept his request, other than something pulling at it do so and the possibility it could take a little bit more blood before he's gone. dancing together, progressively Gabriel becomes weaker and weaker.

i REALLY wanted to keep this secret for a scene i wanted to draw but honeeesttlyyyy i dont think its too bad if i share it. after all, im not sharing V1's feelings here. im sharing Gabriel's :3

i had this whole.. plan

my thing abt pas de deuxs is that. i like to find symbolism in the fact that traditionally, the male dancer is supposed to support the ballerina to be able to perform moves she typically wouldnt be able to on her own without someone holding her.

towards the end of their dance, V1 switches positions to hold and uplift Gabriel instead, who has this entire time been in the place of the male dancer. in his approaching final moments V1 lays him down on the ground. he's hardly moving, and V1 holds onto him, finding itself not wanting him to just... disappear.

now im still figuring out HOW i want this to work. but i thought abt V1 in desperation, grasping onto the sides of his helmet and ripping his helmet in half being the symbolic thing that sets him free. the thing about the gilded nightingale, is that the armor is the bird's cage. Gabriel's design in this AU only really has the helmet and no other armor, so it just... makes sense to me. this is what sets him free. how the transformation works though? i am.. still thinking about it. you might need to give me a bit to think about that

[fairytaleinagem]

Get To Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview!

Say @saturnine-saturneight do this and thought it was fun, so here's @davycoquette's template of the interview! This thing is long, woof...

─── ON THE TUMBLR WRITING COMMUNITY

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Couple a months, I think? One or two, maybe three? I had this account for much longer though, and I've only recently come to it because I wanted to post my stuff on here!

What led you to create it?

I was looking through a tag to see what I should include in an intro post (in general) and saw that there was a list for Writeblr intros! So I made the intro for my blog and then for The Aetherium a bit after that!

What's your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

I get to see a lot of cool art and writing from other people! I especially love it when people make moodboards or similar, because even though I love writing and reading, sometimes the words get a lil' blurry.

What's one thing you'd like your mutuals to know about you?

Hope you like Isekai, because boy do I have PLENTY of stories in mind for it! Even if you don't, at the very least expect one story to have some sort of reincarnation in it haha!

Is there anything you'd like to see more of on your dash?

Oh definitely more art. Playlists, moodboards, character portraits, all of it!! Words can only illustrate so much for me!!!

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

Forget shyness, and get on out there! You're not really guaranteed eyes on your work if you don't interact with others. It may be scary, but you won't regret socializing much!

─── WIP IT GOOD

What Works-In-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Of course we have The Aetherium, which is the main WIP in my head. But there's also a Doubl(iv)ing and a few other WIPs that are listed on my blog intro post!

How long have you been working on them?

Oouf, The Aetherium technically has been going on for about 4 years now! The characters at least, and they didn't even have a home yet! It's only recently that I've settled down to actually write for them.

Do you remember what inspired them/got you started?

YESSS!!!! It was just another day on Youtube, and I was listening to some song that was about to end, so I was scrolling on the sidebar to find something else to listen to. Then, one thumbnail caught my eye. Bright colors, purple, women??? It was also Kpop, a genre I listen to often, so that drew me further in! I clicked on it, and behold, a concrete idea for my characters was born! Ever since then, everything that The Aetherium was based on was from a Kpop girl group named aespa. I recommend listening to them if you want something sort of futuristic and experimental to hear, especially Black Mamba, their debut song!

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Depending on how inspired I am for them, it tends to be a couple of hours. 3 or 4, perhaps? Per day, but sometimes there are droughts.

When someone asks the dreaded, "What do you write about," question, what do you usually say?

People don't usually ask me all that much, but for writing in general it would probably just be "fantasy", since that's what the majority of my works tend to be.

─── LET’S ROTATE BLORBOS

Name any characters you created.

If you wanna hop onto the train to get off The Aetherium Station for a second, a character who I will refer to as God's Only Puppet is spinning pretty rapidly in my head right now. Their """friend""", A Demon's Eternal Servant is spinning right next to 'em, just at a less frequent pace. Other than that, it's the usual Akina (except on Earth now) and a new challenger, Jaxsun!

Who's the most unhinged?

That'd have to be God's Only Puppet, currently! When you're an asshat jerk who cannot be killed (except by the God you're literally being puppeted by), you kind of go off the rails and do a lot of wack things. Like making a death game based on the game Werewolf.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

That'd have to be Akina, because fun fact! Pretty much every character in The Aetherium (with the exception of Zenith and a few others) are based of real people I used to know! And since Akina is based off of me, well... I think you can guess why she's so easy to write for me lmao

Do you ever cringe at them?

Not typically, but maybe that's because I haven't really put them in any embarrassing situations yet? Or make them fumble badly, who knows.

How much control do you feel over your characters?

A decent amount? Recently I've been stuck in the garbage because I'm unsure of what/how to write the scene, so currently we're all just standing there like "so who broke it" around a double of me dead over my chromebook. I'm trying to get back into it so here's to hoping!!

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

Hell yeah I do, especially about the ones I think about the least/not at all! Because then it helps me get a grasp on their characters better, so I can give them some good ol' depth.

─── ON WRITEBLR ENGAGEMENT

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

I generally don't follow that many people, but if you have good tips/writing advice, or follow me as well, or interact with me a decent amount then I'll follow back!

What makes you decide against following?

There's nothing in particular that I have in mind, since I don't follow many people in the first place, unless they do any of the listed reasons in the above question. It'd probably be based off vibes, I guess?

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

No, not really. I'll usually like things or use the reply button rarely, but not reblog.

Do your mutuals' characters occupy space in your noodle?

They have yet to enter and register the overcrowded apartment that is my brain, so no, sorry! I wish they would but they have yet to cross the city street my friends :(