#but then i never learn my lesson and still refuse to practice

[anbaisai]

Do you do speedpaints? Your artstyle is so lovely, I honestly just want to see your process ♡

Thank you! I... actually haven't ever recorded my progress because I'm rather embarrassed about it (including how long it takes me to complete stuff that seem simple at a glance 😭), if you ever watch me draw I think it'd be very frustrating because it's almost never a linear process of sketch -> line art -> colours 💦. This is because I always notice problems I didn't notice at first in my sketch and have to frequently make up for it by re-sketching (and finding refs) in the middle of lining, or do a loooot of adjusting and fixing near the end. So it looks a bit more like sketch -> start line art -> several hours of fixing my mistakes and redoing parts -> FINALLY finish the lines -> colour -> possibly more fixing.

Redoing things in the middle results in the sketch usually looking quite different from the one I initially started with, so I can't even make a proper progress post unless I saved screenshots from earlier stages. HOWEVER. I do have one example I can share because I did send friends screenshots, so here's a rough idea of how I made this piece!

This was the sketch I started out with:

And then this is after I very obviously went to the bathroom mirror to get better refs:

I care a lot about getting anatomy correct even if parts are covered in the final product, so I usually can't avoid sketching the body before I add clothes, hence the different colours just to help myself understand the pose/anatomy better. It wouldn't be this much of a struggle if I sat down and did some more drills practicing anatomy properly via figure drawing or something, but well... I'm lazy... so I always just study the pose or anatomy I need for the piece on the spot.

Line art, which is usually the stage I put the most work into:

Colours + any special effects or final adjustments:

All in all, I'd say my steps are pretty straightforward and nothing special, but hopefully this was somewhat helpful!

[threepandas]

Bad End, Chosen: Part 5

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The first time around, I gave EVERYTHING. I drove myself into the ground, to be my Master's perfect Learner. To prove it had all been WORTH taking me on as a student. So that he would be proud. So he would love me. So that, like a father, he could look upon the child he raised and think "I did a good job, didn't I?"

Even then, I felt his uncertainty.

His fickle heart.

He was a weak man. One that let a mere child bully him into glorified fatherhood and then could not even commit to the choice he had made. As substantive as a cloud, drifting aimlessly across the endless sky. He abandoned me then. He'll abandon me again. I am, at best, something he feels he is "supposed" to do.

He does not love me. He never loved me.

But I love him.

And some days... I hate that I do.

I hate that I spent night after night, pouring over excruciating texts in tiny font. Ancient, dusty, tomes that talked endlessly in circles. I hate that I practiced and practiced, until I could appear effortless before him. The star pupil. The gem of the tower. Dispised and envied by my peers. And... and so utterly, utterly ALONE.

I died.

I died, desperately holding up the tower itself. The only one even vaguely prepared. When The Dark came. I saw tears and terror on the faces of children. Saw the ceiling crashing towards us. And chose to protect THEM instead of myself. It was, perhaps, the first and last time they ever saw me as something human. Fallible.

I was afraid.

But I did not let that terror hold me back.

They tried. Gods, they tried so, so hard to save me. Wept and screamed as the world seemed to END around us. As day turned to night and monster straight from the worst nightmares of man, crawled from the screaming vents, the WOUNDS upon reality itself. The last thing I saw? Was not my Master's face. But the tear stained faces of children pouring everything they could, into taking the impossible burden that even in those moments? Was killing me.

I cracked apart. Overloaded by the core of the Tower, which I had been desperately channeling. It... it was like becoming light.

And then the world rewound.

I did not learn my lesson. I was still young. Did not yet fully understand. Like all Reincarnators I thought I was here for a REASON. It took time to fully grasp how things worked. But that second life? Even now... even now I miss it.

Because back then...

I made friends.

I was so GRATEFUL. Could not unsee, that when the horrors came? They did not abandon me. They didn't even LIKE me. But... but I wanted them to. So I tried. I talked with them. Ate with them. Told jokes and went on trips. Was young. I grew to care so, so much about them. My dear and beloved friends.

Then?

I got to watch them DIE.

Gruesomely. Slowly. And without hope.

Perhaps that was when my love and compassion for the Protagonist died. When my struggle with hatred began. Because while those I loved suffered in mud stained hells, trenches and bile stenched infirmary, she frolicked in rose gardens. Dreaming of girlish love.

What of Duty? Of the death and suffering she IGNORED? How DARE she selfishly concern herself only with her OWN feelings and desires, as the world that NEEDS her dies in fear and agony! What SAINT is she? What GODS allow this?!

Thus was born my Rage.

And so, I refuse my Fate.

But I've made a mistake. A... a terrible mistake. And even now, he circles me like a bird of prey, correcting my stance with hands that linger. A man that looms. Standing too close. Forever patting my head, fingers carding possessively through my hair. Gripping the strands to make me look at him. Always gentle... but with just enough strength to hint that he could NOT be, if he chose.

He manhandles me like a doll. Physically. With magic. It is all the same. Looking forever delighted at the ease at which he can simply drag me into the air with a hover spell. Like a child sized balloon. To be carted around at his mercy.

I barely SEE my actual Master.

Alaric enables it. I... I refuse to call him Grandmaster in my head. He's already gotten to me once. I can endure. I survived once. I can do it again.

"Is my lesson so boring? That you must retreat into your head, child?" More like horrifying. The scent of blood is overwhelming. I keep my eyes locked on the far wall. "Ignoring my lectures will not let you escape them. You are merely force yourself to repeat them, you know. I am perfectly willing to repeat your lessons as many times as it takes."

"Academically" studying The Dark my ASS. Alaric Blight had, HAS, a fucking torture chamber. These are the worst sort of magics. I REFUSE to learn them. Will NOT use them. FUCK YOU.

I give the poor corpse before me what little dignity I can. By not seeing what they have been reduced too. They deserved better then this.

Alaric huffs a laugh. Gently putting down his ceremonial knife on a nearby table. He wipes the viscera from his hands with a rag as he strolls, calm as you please, over to my helplessly floating form.

"Ah~ that stubborn little glare. So FUSSY, Grandlearner." He laughs, the picture of indulgence. "I suppose I HAVE kept you here a touch too long, haven't I? We've missed several meals AND your nap. You are a growing child. No matter how fascinating the material, I can hardly expect you to concentrate under these conditions, now can I?"

He reaks of copper and a rich cologne I have grown to HATE. If only because it is his favorite. I am gathered from the air and pressed against his front, held like a child. I... I still can not move my limbs. He is no fool. For all I am pressed, lovingly almost, against him? I would tear his throat out with my TEETH.

He will not be giving me that chance.

I dispise him.

I DISPISE "naps".

Bad enough to be dragged around in his company for lessons. At least then, I can remember his evil. The cruelty and crimes. But NAPS? Insidious. We're it not for the immobility, they would have done terrible things to my head, long LONG ago.

They are exactly what they sound like. I am dragged off, to be cuddled like some stuffed animal, in some beautiful and soothing environment. For a nap. Bonding. Just me, him, and my head pressed against his chest. Against the hypnotic sound of his beating heart. Fighting the exhaustion in my bones. The desire to just... just let GO and know a moment's peace.

We never make it to the garden.

An explosion ROCKS the Magic Tower. Over a decade too soon to be The Dark. Alaric stops misstep, his personal barriers keeping even dust from touching us, as in the distance, Mage's scream. The Tower's barrier...goes up.

It...it NEVER goes up.

That is the seige barrier. For... for ATTACKS. Who would!?

"Ah. I knew I was forgetting something." Alaric says, as calmly as though musing on the weather outside instead of an attack upon an ancient, foundational institution. "It seems the temple dogs have finally decided to act upon all their barking. I imagine their little whore will make a wonderful figurehead. They always WERE on the look out for more puppets."

I stare up in confusion as he looks out as the barrier. His gaze flat, empty, and cold. Voice is distant as his muses, as though he long ago stopped caring. He catches my gaze upon him and the warmth floods back in.

"You see, little one. I normally kill them. They tend to make a pest of themselves. I have a list of things I must get done each cycle." He smiles fondly, utterly ignoring the alarms that have begun to sound. The calls for all Master's to defensive positions. "It is something you will learn, with time. A lesson I, of course, will be teaching you~"

"Now, since THIS building will likely become useless to us shortly. Let us go pack, hmm? The story progress. It's time to go home." He turns, and we begin to walk away.

"W-Wait!" I manage to choke out.

He pauses, looks down at me, patient even as people die. What, after all, does HE care, if they do? I try desperately to gather my thought. It is like scrambling after dropped beads across a smooth floor. I think, I HOPE, I get enough...

"I... G-Grandmaster I li..LIKE learning here. With you. It feels more familiar and has better places to... to nap. Could you... WOULD you, PLEASE, go save everyone?" I manage to rip from my throat, each word like pulling a tooth. I hate it. I HATE IT! But for them? Anything.

"Oh? Grandlearner~! Was that a REQUEST?" Croons the madman who holds me, his grip getting tighter for just a moment before relaxing back into it's gentle hold. Lips, almost burning with power, brush softly against my temple in a kiss. He makes a horrifyingly satisfied noise. "Of course MY child. Anything for MY Grandlearner, after all. You are my world, little light."

The world twists.

And suddenly? I am floating safely in the shade of a tree, far across the valley from the Tower. I can... I can feel the struggling Master's. Fighting to hold off the Temple's holy warriors. It is a blood soaked standstill. Until Alaric Blight steps up to the field.

Then?

EVERYTHING IS FIRE.

He is The Arch-Mage of Red. Not just for his hair, but for his terrifying master of fire and battle magics. What once, moments before, was a sea of green? Becomes ash and flame in an instant. So hot the fire burns the very air itself. Bordering on plasma. The ground itself molten in his wake.

None survive. How could any even dream?

It is like a nuke made man.

I shake. Tears slipping down my cheeks as I watch old growth vanish in the distance. Centuries of life. Gone in a moment of ugly destruction. They will praise him for this. Call him a hero. But I know what he is. What hides beneath that ugly, shining, mask of a charm and civility. And... and I am scared.

A chirp of starlight and tinkling glass, high and questioning, hovers just to my right.

Fairy-dragons. A full swarm. Creatures the size of a cat with the power of a god. All but one, staring furiously down at the destruction in the valley below. They radiates furious grief at the loss of so much life and forest. But the one looking at me... feels? Questioning? Somehow?

Can they project?

I can only assume. I KNOW they can understand spoken languages. All dragons can. And as powerful as dragons ARE...

"Please... please! Help me!" I choke out, finally letting my tears spill. Because if I can not cry in front of dragons, then where? "I'm not strong enough. He's a MONSTER. I know you can feel it! Please! Just until I recover. Until I can fight. PLEASE!"

More of the tiny creatures look at me. Glance at each other. Then back towards where Alaric continues his destruction. Their destain for him is obvious. Their eyes as they look upon me, hold no special love. Just ambivalence. But... they are what they are. And they DO hate the sort of creature Alaric Blight has become.

With a tearing WRENCH the spell holding me is SHREDDED.

Painfully, in dragon claws.

In the distance, Alaric stops. No doubt feeling that. Knowing someone not only freed me, but ATTACKED HIM. The dragon that was worried for me touches my shoulder. And before my Grandmaster can ever discover WHO stole me away?

I am Gone.

I do not see the city of Towervalley, the magic tower itself, BURN.

[coolprettyleo]

maybe i will finally learn my lesson? - begin again au ☆

wc: 1.2k

tw: sad, angst, rejection, talks about sex. no actual smut tho. borderline alcoholic tbh

ryan leonard x hughes sister au!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie fell back onto her bed with a soft thud as she tried to catch her breath. she looked at the boy beside her with a hopeful look hoping to gosh he would stay the night and cuddle her. she just needed some form of reassurance.

he never ever wanted to stay over though.

“i gotta go, the guys are going out tonight” he says as he gets out the bed acting like he was talking to some stranger. what frankie didn't realize was that they basically were.

“do you have to leave?” she says in a sad voice kneeling on the bed. she hated how he never wanted to stay and talk. was that so much for a girl to ask for these days?

“frankie, im all spent for right now, but i mean if im feeling it later on, i'll stop by”

is he fucking serious.

it had honestly been a while since frankie had felt that much rage. he really did only think of her as a fuck buddy.

she knew what she was getting herself into, when she agreed on their little agreement, but in the movies it always ends with the guys falling in love with you. right?

“oh my gosh. just leave. like actually” she said getting back in bed and turning her back to him. which left him dumbfounded. why would she be mad he had to leave?

“did i do something?” he asked confused as he finished putting his cloths on.

no answer.

that pissed drew off. she had no reason to be all pissy with him.

“are you mad because im going out with the boys? why would that bother you? were not anything, frankie. im allowed to go out” he said. still starring at her back.

“oh don’t worry. you’ve made that very clear to me drew” she says, her voice wavering due to the fact she just felt so foolish.

“whatever, you’re annoying me. talk to me when ur done being crazy” he said walking out and slamming her door in a fit of rage.

to say frankie took it totally fine would be dishonest. she sobbed in a fetal position all night. while blasting foolish one by taylor swift.

that woman really does have a song for every situation.

she had honestly never felt so alone.

of course she’s not actually alone; she just refuses to go to anyone and burden them with her problems. it’s not like she can call her parents and her brothers due to the fact she can’t lie to them. she knew they were going to ask something like 'how'd practice go?' and whatnot so she's been forwarding their calls since Wednesday when she quit the team.

she could also call her friends. or her ex teammates. did she even have friends?

she was alone.

___

she sits in her room finishing up and assignment when she felt like doing something. usually she would get drunk and go from there, but no. if the last week has taught her anything; it's that she's becoming a new person. and the new person wouldn't black out after every minor convenience.

so in the spur of the moment, she decided she was going to rearrange her room! which is what lead her to where she was right now; outside the freshman hockey house.

while moving her bed from one side to another, she found drews hoodie. so being the mature, new, amazing person she claimed to be... she decided to give him back his hoodie, as a form of ceasing the deal. this is a supposed to be a step forward is it three steps back?

frankie walked up the front steps and as she lifted her fist to knock she halts, when she hears multiple voices coming from inside. not wanting to end her and drews situationship in front of his teammates; to save them both the embarrassment. she quickly trashes her plan and decided to just head home.

but when she heard her name is when she decided against that.

"frankie?" she hears drew ask.

"yes dude. its actually so obvious she wants you after what your saying she did yesterday"

he told them about the argument?

well she couldn't really get mad, if frankie had best friends she would of probably told them too.

"well i dont want her like that and she knows that"

frankie felt her heart crack.

i mean she told herself he didn't like her back, but hearing him say it, is a whole different level of pain for someone who just oh so hoped to joke about their situationship one day over coffee as he watched the morning news while their kids got ready for school.

foolish one, frankie hughes.

"no way your gonna reject her, she's so hot. what the hell is there not to like" one of his stupid teammates said.

"I mean she's the nicest and one of the hottest girls I've ever got with dont get me wrong, but some of the shit she says makes me question if she's being for real or not" drew said not knowing the match he was lighting.

"I think I know what your talking about, is it when she said she thought denver was in texas?" one of his other teammates chimed in.

"bro yes. that actually left me speechless" he says. frankie felt like burning the house down at this point.

"she's lucky she's got hockey" another voice said.

"had'

the hoodie she had in her hands slipped through her fingers. just like the heart drew held. the heart he never wanted to hold.

she backed away from the door, never wanting to slash anyones tires more. she wanted to commit arson. the way they were talking about her, made her want to throw up.

she can take the fact he didn't like her back. thats okay. if he didn't feel the butterflies she felt it wasn't no one fault. but mine.

but the fact he stood their and called her stupid? who the fuck even knows geography like that? she felt so many emotions run through her veins and the one overcoming the rest was the one that held the power over her tears.

"frankie?" oh my god. no. why the hell did I not run home?

she turned her head to see ryan leonard standing there. one of drews friends. someone she had considered to be her friend. but if the rest talk about her like that, him, will, and gabe probably do too.

"you didn't see me here, ryan" she said as she covered her face trying to push past him.

"wha- hey! what's wrong? who did this?" he said grabbing her wrist and seeing her crying eyes. he knew who did it. he just needed to hear a confirmation before he went inside and beat his ass.

"nothing. let me go" she said wiping her tears.

"im not letting you leave here alone hughes, i know how you get when your this sad. I dont want to wake up tomorrow and hear that you got hit by a damn bus for gosh sake"

one thing ryan hated was when she would drink her feelings away because that meant she was going to be reckless. she honestly is reckless.

"well then do you want to come?"

I got tired so im done writing but I wanted to post this! also ! I have no hate towards drew, its all going to add up in the future when I start the other aus I have planned but for now drew is like anyone else and he's learning and growing. so bear with me!

[dazed--xx]

SKZ Break up reaction II (Maknae Line)

Part 1

A/N: I’ve honestly been massively depressed so putting this out has been a little helpful to get these angsty feelings out. I hope you guys enjoy and Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin are going to have a part 3. Please like comment and reblog. Requests are open and I also do commissions.

Jisung:

“Is there a reason you’re here again?” You state stoically to Jisung’s back, as he knocked on your door once again. You notice the surprise on his features as he whips around to face you. Your heart shatters at the tear stricken sobbing boy. “Ba—Y/N, I-I’m sorry I’m so sorry please just talk to me please let’s just figure things out” he pleaded as he makes his way over to you. You scoff as you cross your arms over your chest “what’s there to talk about Jisung? You cheated on me there’s not much else to say besides that” you roll your eyes as he drops to his knees wrapping his arms around your waist “it’s been almost a year! I’ve learned my lesson! I’m sorry you can’t understand how sorry I am I fucked up I know I fucked up so bad but if you give me another chance I can be better I only want you I’ve only wanted you all this time, please just talk to me! I won’t ask you to let me explain there’s no good explanation for why I did what I did and I’m fucking disgusted with myself but I love you I only love you and I want to be with you only you” his tears leak through the thin material of your shirt.

Your heart breaks at his pleads, as much as you missed him you knew you’d always question if he was truly where he said he was and if he was with another woman. You weren’t sure what you should do, you missed him so much you practically cried yourself to sleep at his absence every night. The idea of getting back together with him made you feel terrified. What if he cheated again? What if he realized that he wasted his time and this wasn’t what he wanted? Your hands shook unconditionally as the familiar feeling of not being able to breathe grows in your throat. You stared at him, you could tell he was being serious but still you knew the lack of trust you’d have for him would be toxic it would make things unhealthy and you refused to do that to the both of you so with a heavy heart you removed Jisung’s arms from around you and make your way to your porch. “I can’t do this right now Jisung..” you state behind unshed tears. You could hear him getting to his feet and rushing behind you “you can’t talk to me?!” He exclaims. You shake your head in response anger growing in your stomach at his nerve to be upset with you. “NO! I can’t Jisung! I’m sorry but fucking no! Every time I look at you I’m reminded of the fact that we’re no longer together because of what you did! because you couldn’t keep it in your fucking pants! I loved you! I gave you everything and you fucking destroyed it! You ruined everything! I thought I was going to marry you! You fucking destroyed everything! I hate that I still love you, I hate that you fucked up so fucking bad, I hate that you have the fucking gall to come here and destroy me all over again you need to leave! And don’t try to contact me again!” You exclaim as you unlock your door and slam it harshly behind you. You press your back against the door and slowly let the sobs consume you.

Felix:

You sat on your couch staring at the dark tv screen across from you as Felix’s leg shook rapidly in the arm chair. You weren’t sure if it was his close proximity or you being once again confronted with the fact that this was all a bet to Felix but you were feeling exceptionally nauseous. You feel his warm hand grasp your own. You pull your hand away as if his touch had burned you “Don’t touch me!” You snap. You hated your neighbor for being home and begging you to just let Felix in so he’d just shut up. Your eyes never once leaving from the screen infront of you. You don’t see the pain flashing across his features at your reluctance to allow his touch. “I-I’m sorry….” He begins as tears well in his eyes “I-I know I’m an asshole b-but please baby can you please look at me at least?” His voice quakes as his hands once again hold yours as he places himself next to you. You bite the inside of your cheek and turn your head away from him. “Fuck! Please! Don’t do this to me! I’m sorry okay?! I’m so sorry please don’t break up with me! You mean everything to me a-and…” your head whips toward him at the sound of his voice cracking “it was a stupid idiotic bet that I called off I swear! Please stay with me, you’re so amazing and I don’t want to let this go” he confesses.

You stare at the man you’ve come to know, you notice the tears streaming down his angelic freckled face. His heart shaped pout quivering, his grasp on you tightening as you begin to gently pull your hands away. “Felix…please just go” your voice practically inaudible “you can stop pretending..” you state sadly, as your eyes connect with his. His head shakes rapidly “N-no! This is real for me, baby please believe me I love you okay? I love you! I don’t want to break up! I want to be with you please listen okay? Please believe me, you know me!” He cries, “do I though?” You questioned in disbelief. “Yes! You know me you know who I am as a person you know this stupid bet isn’t like me come on please believe I called it off!” He pleaded. Though you could see the sincerity in his eyes you still wondered “When?” You notice the confusion etched on his features “right after our first date! I-I can show you!” He states in a panic as he pulls his phone out quickly typing the pin in and clicking on a chat before scrolling for what seemed like hours. “You don’t need to..” you try to stop him “yes I do! I need you to see please j-just let me find it” he begs as tears build in his eyes once more, his fingers scroll in a panic. You could tell how desperate he was for you to believe him, to know what he felt. Yet, you still couldn’t understand “why’d you even make such a disgusting bet in the first place?” You couldn’t contain the venom in your tone. “Because I’m fucking stupid I don’t know okay but when I realized how fucked up it was I called it off! I wanted to go out with you I didn’t have the balls any other way honestly! I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry—HERE!!” He stated as he shoved his phone in your hands your eyes drift over the screen. You can see the multiple messages that were sent on the course of your first date, gross encouragements and denials of his ability to complete his part of the deal by his friends. You felt like throwing up until you saw the only response from him

Felix: I can’t do it i really fucking like her and I can’t do that to her I’ll pay you guys what I owe but I’m done with this. I feel fucking gross, I kissed her fuck I finally kissed her and I feel gross because of this I can’t do it she’s fucking amazing guys this is so wrong I can’t breathe I want to be with her like really be with her please don’t mention this please I can’t ruin things already please it’s done im done with it don’t talk about it okay?

You feel tears streaming down your face as you stare at him. You notice the longing and pain in his orbs, your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but please know that this is real for me that you truly do mean fucking everything to me” he states softly as his thumb brushes your tears away. His hand caresses your cheek as he slowly leans forward his lips brushing against your own before he hesitantly presses them against yours. The kiss is slow and unwavering as you press yourself against him. Your fingers finding their way into his hair, you can feel his hands on your waist as he gently shoved your back against the couch cushion. Your lips move in sync as he places himself between your legs. You feel your heart fluttering and pounding against your chest. A small whimper is released from your throat as Felix pulls his lips away from yours and begins trailing a line of kisses to your throat. “Tell me you’re mine baby” his voice is husky and full of lust. You press your lips against his once more “all yours”

Seungmin:

You sat on your couch scrolling on your phone as you ignored the movie you had put on previously. A small chuckle is released from your lips as you scroll through TikTok. A message popping up in your notifications, your heart quivers as you read Seungmins name. ‘Can we talk?’ A scoff is released from your chest. What was there to talk about? He didn’t feel the same way, you didn’t need him to explain anything you understood where he stood and you accepted it. But, that did not mean you were ready to be friends or accept that your relationship had failed before it had gotten a chance to truly blossom. You didn’t know what to do, it had been over three months since you had ended whatever you had with him and yet you still got messages and calls daily almost 3x as much as you did when you were ‘together’. Whilst you still never read let alone responded to these messages you still found yourself stagnant in the moving on process. You missed his presence, you weren’t sure what you should do; as much as you wanted to be with him. You did not like the nature of your relationship and the fact that he obviously wasn’t attracted to you in anyway. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a series of rapid knocks, your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as you make your way to the door pulling it open forcefully. Your eyes growing wide as you see a pacing Seungmin on your porch.

“Seung—wait before you say anything!” He interjects as he shoves his way into your small dorm.“I know I ruined things between us, a-and I-I…i really like you and I know what you believe but you have to know that. I’m so mad at you, how could you?! How could you break my heart like that!?” His voice is unsure, you noticed his disheveled appearance, you watch as he continues his pacing “I know I’m an idiot b-but I told you everyday that I liked you that I saw us hanging out as dates a-and you just break up with me out of nowhere?! I want you I want to be with you and you’ve ignored me for the past three months. Fuck Y/N how could you not respond to me? Did you move on that quickly? You couldn’t have right?”you notice the tears welling up in his eyes as his pacing stopped, his hands wrapping themselves around your arms as he stared into your eyes “I-I thought you loved me too I-I thought we had something and you just break up with me?! Was there someone else? Was I not enough? You said you didn’t think I was attracted to you a-and I am!” You stood frozen in place as his rant continued, not knowing what to say at his sudden appearance and confession. “I’m so attracted to you and I need you to believe that I want to be with you! You asked me what we did that was couple stuff and you know what you were right! I didn’t treat you like my girlfriend and for that I’m sorry but this time I’m not going to make the same mistakes. You’re mine! I’m making it very clear right now! You’re my girlfriend! We’re not breaking up! And you’re a terrible girlfriend for not answering me for months! I’m not letting you go before I get to fully have you! And I know you’re not property but your heart belongs to me and it’s staying with me…” he trails as he desperately pressed your lips together, your eyes widen as you stand frozen in shock. You feel yourself relax as you return the kiss, his tongue brushes against your bottom lip begging for entrance as his arms wrap firmly around your waist. Your arms finding themselves wrapped around his neck. You whine as he pulls away, your lips chasing his as he chuckles “be mine again baby?” A blush creeps upon your cheeks at the use of the pet name as you nod hiding your face in his neck.

Jeongin:

*ping*

*ping*

*ping*

Your phone continuously called. You sat on your bed staring at the object for what felt like eternity. The large red X and do not answer confirm your suspicions. You couldn’t understand why he decided to contact you this morning. He didn’t bother last night when you had broken up with him, he didn’t come looking for you nor did he attempt to call you or text in anyway last night. Letting your curiosity get to you, you grab your phone and quickly open his messages.

From: ❌do not answer ❌

Tell me this is a joke

Tell me we didn’t break up

Fuck tell me your still mine and you love me tell me I didn’t lose you last night and that nayeon is lying.

You sit in shock at his messages you notice the three dots appearing on your screen.

From: ❌do not answer❌

Please??

Please answer I’m sorry whatever I did I’m sorry I love you

I love you

I don’t want to break up I don’t want to be without you I’m stupid I’m so fucking stupid but I need to be with you I need to fix things please respond, please?

I don’t know what to do I know you’re reading this please tell me what I did, please I need to know how badly I fucked this up I don’t want to fuck this up I want to be with you please tell me how I can fix it I hated waking up without your messages. I hated that I had no missed calls from you. I love you so fucking much I can’t do this.

A call comes through from him, you weren’t sure what to do. He was such an asshole last night and for so long before that, this came out of nowhere. You watch as the call goes unanswered.

From: ❌do not answer❌

Please please please

I’m sorry

Im sorry

I don’t know what else to say I’m so fucking sorry

I’ll treat you better, I can be better for you I’m sorry please don’t leave me

Please? The last thing I wanted yesterday was to break up, it was our anniversary and I’m so fucking sorry I forgot. I’m so sorry I was an ass I’m so fucking sorry that you felt like this is what you needed to do but it’s not. It’s really not. I understand now I do I get it I don’t want to have to deal with this pain that I caused to both of us I want to fix it I want to fix things and be with you be better to you I’ll do anything

Another call comes through your phone, you bite your bottom lip to hold yourself off from answering

From: ❌do not answer❌

Answer my calls I’m sorry

Please I just need to hear your voice, I can’t calm down I’m literally fucking crying right now I can’t breath without you

I was so fucking drunk I’m sorry baby please I don’t want to be broken up I don’t want to be away from you I love you

I love you please remember that

You leave his messages on read as you silently cry to yourself. You couldn’t understand why was he acting like it came out of nowhere? He hadn’t been the nicest boyfriend for a long time and now he’s acting like he does truly want to be with you. How could he love you when he was so cruel? You didn’t want to break up either but you couldn’t be with someone that could treat you like that and talk to you like you were beneath them. As much as it hurt, you click on his contact scroll to the bottom and block his number.

[silantryoo]

ENCHANTED [ WRITTEN ] — hanlim

y/n's first day in hanlim.

WARNINGS ; invasion of privacy, panic attacks, stalking, mentions of illegal filming, mentions of teen pregnancy (1.5k)

she had never meant to upset her mother.

y/n was hardheaded. she remembered the countless times her grandmother had scolded her for staying up late, and for keeping a bit too much to herself. her younger self (and still now) refused to budge from the door on days when her mother was supposed to arrive, even if she knew deep down it was just another empty promise

she was stubborn, but she knew what she wanted.

her mom never kept her dismay for y/n's choice of hobby hidden. the frown on her face whenever her daughter mentioned dance lessons or recitals, the grimace that painted it when she learned of her dreams on stage.

she thought y/n would grow out of it, that it would just be a phase like any other kid her age. she remembered how she was in elementary school, when everyone wanted to be a singer.

the day she finally came home, her daughter was dressed in her new uniform. a hanlim uniform.

she made a conscious effort from the day her daughter was born to never be rough. she vowed that she would never yell, never treat her y/n the way that the media did when she was thirteen.

she knew too well that the fear of being found out - of the consequences - overrode all common sense.

her hand yanked the young girl's arm, nearly ripping it off its socket. the tremble in her hands, the fear, traveled into her lungs like a sickening virus.

her daughter didn't have her face, didn't have a single physical feature except her smile. their voices sounded nothing alike, and the way she presented herself was nothing like her mother's. besides, there were plenty of kwon's in south korea, and no one would ever consider that this random teenager would be the offspring of two idols.

but somehow, in some way, she knew that they would find out.

"what are you wearing?"

the wince on her daughter's face was enough to break her heart, and the fear y/n saw in her mother's eyes - the thought of anyone knowing who she truly was - crushed her.

"my school uniform." y/n rubbed her arm, the dull ache seeping up. she knew her mom would react like this. "grandpa is dropping me off, don't worry."

the furrow between her mother's eyebrows first appeared during y/n's first dance practice, and ever since then, it hasn't left.

"hanlim...?" her mom eyed her outfit, never tearing her eyes away from the school crest. "hanlim?"

everyone who knew about the industry knew about hanlim. it was littered with people like him, who probably knew him. children and families who looked up to him, worshiping the ground he's walked on, trying to replicate each note he'd sang.

and now, her daughter would be swarmed with everything she's tried to keep her from. there was no stopping her, and there was no stopping them from knowing.

"mom..."

at times like this, y/n wondered if her mom regretted having her (more than she already did).

"why didn't you tell me?"

she had the same eyes as him.

y/n fiddled with her phone, her eyes trained on its grey back. "i texted you two months ago."

"on what phone? on my work phone, y/n?" the teenager nodded, avoiding her mother's gaze. "you know i don't check my work phone."

she knew that, obviously. y/n knew her mother constantly got bombarded with random texts and calls on her work phone, fans and stalkers insistent on interacting with their idol. she also knew how much her mom would hate her going to hanlim.

"it's not a big deal."

"yes, it is!" y/n had never heard her mother raise her voice until now, and it hurt her more than it scared her. "do you not understand how bad this is for us?"

they were gonna devour her daughter, just like how they did her. they were gonna rip her apart - her face, her voice, the way she moved and spoke. once they found out - when they found out, y/n would be the hunt of the century.

"it's fine, mom." the young kwon could feel the clock ticking as it got closer and closer to the beginning of her school day. "we don't even look alike. no one's gonna know."

she hated how her daughter looked like him in this light.

("no one's gonna find out about us, jagi-yah. no one's gonna know. i promise.")

"and what if figure it out?" the thought made her want to throw up, like when they found the hidden cameras her father found her daughter's nursery. "what if they do something again?"

sometimes, she could feel her veins run cold during recording. that small light - red and minuscule, taunting her as she performed on stage. the flashes that followed her around, travelling with her from country to country...

"they won't!"

it trailed her daughter like shadow, but she always made sure to keep her daughter in the light.

"you don't know that, y/n." she's been in the industry long enough to know what they like. "baby, this is for your safety too. you're my kid."

(it was his fault, she was young and naive.)

"but-"

"no." her hand dropped, the dread in her chest traveling all over her body. maybe it was best for her daughter to know.

she was too young to, but she was too back then.

"baby..."

"princess, let's go." her father entered, his eyes still as kind as ever. they landed on the idol in front of him. "you're home a day early."

"dad." why did she feel like she was eighteen again? like she had just missed her second period in a row? "i... yeah. i took the soonest flight."

her gaze moved to the younger kwon, and it was as if the fear she had felt the day she found out she was pregnant had tripled.

her daughter couldn't go through this. she had done everything in her power to make sure that it was so.

"we'll talk after your classes, okay?"

y/n always wondered how her mom would've reacted if she figured out that hanlim was exactly how she pictured it to be.

y/n was over thinking it.

she knew she was probably paranoid, her mom's constant spewing of 'be careful's and 'i know better's getting to her.

besides, there were hundreds of thousands — millions of people in seoul. none of which knew who she was, knew who she was related to. no one could possibly notice the similarities between her and her mother — their smile, playful and boyish, their eyes, intense and sparkling.

another bus stop.

the man was still there, sitting in the back, burning a hole into the side of her head. a white hot beam, a spotlight that only she and that man knew was on her.

he couldn't be watching her. it was improbable. there were students of all kinds, from different schools on the bus. for all y/n knew, he was with his daughter, dropping her off.

but why was he staring at her?

another stop. y/n's stop.

the young kwon rushed out of the bus, cursing under her breath. the fresh air felt suffocating, cold and crisp as if it came with a reminder of her and her mother's paranoia.

her mom must've been used to the industry, and how they seize every moment of an idol's life for opportunity. she knew her mom struggled to even drive home at times, having to make sure she was hidden from any watchful eye.

but she wasn't her mom.

besides, the real world wasn't like that. y/n was sure of it. there were people who minded their own business, who didn't profit off of people's personal lives.

"are you kwon y/n?"

a strong grip, an older man's grip.

"sorry, you've got the wrong person."

y/n pulled away, her heart beating out of her chest as her schoolmates flooded past the gates of hanlim. she was supposed to be a spec in the sea of black blazers and shiny shoes. no one should've known, right?

"but in the pictures they gave me—"

pictures?

sure, from time to time, y/n got worried about people following her. she was paranoid occasionally, but it was seoul, for god's sake. at least ten people were going the same way as you.

her mom was right.

"i'm sorry. you've got the wrong girl." y/n could barely muster a smile, rushing into campus as she left the man.

she had dreams to make her mother proud, to perform the same way she did. y/n always expected that once she reached her goals, she'd suffer a similar fate; the flashing lights, the lack of privacy. y/n never realized that it would come prematurely.

was she terrified? absolutely. but it wasn't gonna cost her her dreams. she wasn't going to sacrifice the one thing she and her mom could bond over, the one thing they could share publicly.

she'd never tell her mom, even if it killed her.

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!

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[fandoms-in-law]

Ophelia's Son: Smoking

Following on from Ophelia's Son to avoid everything going in its reblogs

Summary: In an effort to avoid nightmares, Robin gets Eddie and Steve to try meditation with her. An Addams trait derails it

Authors Note: This bit starts with me mixing up todays idea with tomorrows, cause I didn't check them before going out for the day

/\

Ophelia had gone back to Steve's father, set on keeping the flowers she'd started growing again and reminding Richard that a Frump should never be a second priority. Steve had laughed to hear that but agreed wholeheartedly that she should demand her due affection again.

The kids had been uncertain of her the few times they'd visited during her stay, mostly the boys because she immediately took El and Max under her wing to learn judo. Robin and Nancy had sat in on a few of the lessons too but after the third time of getting roped in for them to practice throws Steve and Jonathan teamed up to suggest actual classes they wouldn't be part of for them.

Lucas hadn't had luck in doing the same and was the only boy willing to come with the girls on their visits still. He did sigh in relief to realise Ophelia was gone however and immediately radioed the rest that it was cleare, getting snickers from the girls.

"We have something else to do now anyway." Max agreed, turning an expression full of plotting to Steve.

"Which is?" he asked, bemused.

"What flowers grow on your head?" El asked, bringing seed packets out of Max's bag.

The pair smiled innocently at him, holding the seed out and Steve couldn't avoid smiling, "Okay and you think they sprout in record time or is today just scattering them on my head then waiting to see if any stick long enough to grow?"

Yhey shared a look, frowning for a moment. "Wait here. We're picking some flowers from your neighbours." Max decided, grabbing El's hand.

"No.No! My neighbours will call the police on kids and they will kick up hell if Hopper doesn't seem to do anything." Steve stopped them. "Get weeds, wild flowers, hell go explore the woods taking cuttings of anything you can identity and bring them over another day. Don't cut the neighbours flowers."

Max straightened, matching his glare and crossing her arms. "We want to test it now."

"Well you can't. Go get Joyce to help you plant the seeds so they're at least sprouted before you shove them on my head." He gestured to the door where the Byers had indeed just pulled up.

"Fine." Max dragged Lucas and El out with her, Lucas once again talking into the radio as they went.

/\

“We’re meditating.” Robin decided.

She and Eddie had slept over the night before and they’d all been woken three times by the nightmares they had and Robin’s parents had been suggesting meditation as a solution for nightmares since a month after Starcourt. So far she and Steve had refused, certain nothing could actually get them past everything they’d gone through.

Steve blinked over to her from where he was nursing a coffee and nodded, “Sure, fine, might as well see if it’d get us a single nights sleep.” The agreement was easy. Perhaps when their nightmares woke them a couple times a week for fear of Russians could be carried on through, and perhaps feeling tired for half the week could be pushed past, but if they were together they woke each other if the nightmares got bad and apart Steve was sure none of them slept after their first nightmare of a night so they had to try something.

Eddie stayed silent, looking between the pair curiously.

“I’ll bring the books and tapes Mum tried pushing me to use tonight. You make a blanket fort in there.” Robin nodded, certain the decision was unanimous without him speaking.

/\

Listening to a tape was easy, even as sceptical as Steve was that mediation would help. He could follow the voice asking him to focus on his breathing, to imagine a flat colour or whatever else it was talking about.

He could not however keep focused on it when Robin yelped, suddenly scrambling from where she had been sat next to him and started batting him with a cushion, especially not when Eddie joined in, freaking out and asking where the lighter was and how something had happened.

Steve had automatically rolled up, moving his arms to shield his head but blinked at the pair when they stopped a moment later. “The hell was that about?”

“You were smoking!” Robin yelled, somewhere between panicked and accusatory.

“I was meditating! What the hell would I have been smoking? Eddie keeps whatever he shares with us when we aren’t intending to smoke.” He argued, looking to Eddie for support but only seeing his head shaking rapidly.

It took a moment before Eddie stopped. “Nope, not smoking a joint or anything, there was literally smoke coming out of you. You were smoking. Is that an Addams thing? A Frump thing? Do Addams’s smoke?” He asked the questions rapidly before realising neither Steve or Robin would know.

“I could ask, but can I first try doing that so I can see what you’re talking about?” Steve hesitated, glancing from his friends, to the phone and back again.

Robin pulled him up instead, walking around him, lifting his arms and even inspecting where he’d been sat. “Okay, no signs of anything having burnt, or anything like that. I will rewind the tape to the beginning. Eddie and me will watch you and not listen to it. You decide if you’re following it with eyes closed or open.” She concluded, going to do just that.

“Gotta be an Addams thing.” Eddie muttered, but did move so he was facing Steve instead of beside him now.

Once Robin hit play again Steve kept his eyes open, staring at Eddie while following the breathing guidance. He saw the twitch as Eddie tried not to react to something and glanced down to see he was indeed smoking while breathing and relaxing.

“Mum didn’t leave a number for where she and father are now.” He stated, trying to remain calm. “So I’ll just call Morticia and see if she knows what this is.”

It was an easy call to make and Morticia sounded delighted to hear the question. “Oh, Steve, that’s wonderful. I smoke just like that. Of course it’s normal. Everyone smokes, just remember to be polite and check if any guests are comfortable with you doing so before you do.”

“I will Aunt Morticia,” He promised, hanging up and smiling at the pair listening as closely as they could. “It’s something she does. Apparently I’m not taking after just my mother now.”

“Please, please smoke around the band. I wanna see their reaction to it.” Eddie immediately requested, comfortable to accept the new ability now they knew an origin for it. “Actually no. I’m gonna make a character you can play for a campaign, have you smoking at so many points until they ask how you manage that.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Can we go back to trying the full meditation now? I do want a full nights sleep sometime.”

“Okay. Just no developing some other weird feature if we do it this time.” Robin teased, once more rewinding the tape and arranging cushions so they’d all be comfortable.

[zaahvi]

first concept of my rook!! his name is faolan and he's a dalish crow :))

backstory and lore tidbits under the cut bc it's alot 👇

fal was part of a dalish clan roaming northeastern thedas, and had been first to the keeper since his magic manifested (around 8 yrs old). he was quite troublesome, impatient, and had a temper. one day when he was 15, he stormed off in a fit of anger mid-lesson with the keeper, disappearing into the forest on his own for several hours until he'd calmed down. when he came back, his clan were all dead, and whoever was responsible was long gone.

after pulling himself together, he packed his things and left in search of another clan. there was one nearby, he knew, but when he reached them, they refused to take him in; they already had too many mages, they said. faolan knew this wasn't true, and instead suspected that his well-known poor character was the reason he was turned away, but for once he said nothing and just turned away. it was time for a different path, it seemed.

his journey took him to the nearby city of treviso, where upon learning of the antivan crows he practically begged to be let in. after all that happened, all he wanted was to kill, and to find whoever murdered his clan, and kill them too. after some time and trials, he was accepted in, and his training began.

after officially killing his first mark at 18, he paid another visit to the nearby dalish clan, for nothing else but to ask for his vallaslin. he wasn't a first anymore, but he had become a hunter, in a way, and thought he'd earned his markings. the clan's keeper begrudgingly agreed, and faolan got his vallaslin: the twisted branches which symbolised elgar'nan, the god of vengeance, for that is the path he'd taken when they'd turned him away.

over the next few years, the antivan crows began to receive more and more contracts on members of the venatori. during this time, faolan discovered that they were behind the murder of his clan: they had been searching for information on elven lore, and had chosen the violent path with his clan. fal was lucky enough to swipe a few contracts on the specific members that were involved and kill them personally; but when it was all over, he felt nothing. it seemed that getting vengeance wasn't as gratifying as he thought it'd be. in the end, his clan were still dead, they weren't coming back, nothing was going to be like it used to be... he had a new life now, one filled with plots and murder, and he really hadn't been in the headspace to process how permanent that'd be.

so that's faolan and where he is now. he's about 25 now and he feels kinda stuck in life, his past is still weighing on him and he's constantly just trying to distract himself with work. i think the solas job & then the forming of the veilguard is the first time that things start to feel a little different for him? like he's actually doing something important for once... and he finally gets friends yay :)

some tidbits:

as a kid he got into fights all the time. ALL the time. this continued on until he got into the crows and started losing

^^ he never used magic while fighting btw. that's cheating.

personality wise nowadays he's more guarded and doesn't really like to socialise, it's not that he's "socially awkward" it's just that he'd rather keep to himself. i think the veilguard is the first time he kinda comes out of his shell so to speak

that being said he will still absolutely kick your ass if provoked.

he's the kind of guy you see at the bar sitting at a solo table in the corner staring at everybody who comes in

his eyes both used to be that goldenish colour; his left eye turned silver when his magic manifested

doesn't know any healing magic. he hasn't bothered to use it since his clan died, and has forgotten how to do it

the tips of his ears get hot when someone casts magic nearby

takes shots at veilguard team meetings

hates any and all weather, honestly how he managed to survive 15 years in a dalish clan is beyond me

can be very charming and really good at flirting when he wants to be, but is an absolute disaster when it comes to showing genuine affection

has whatever the deity equivalent of daddy issues is with elgar'nan

okay i'm all done but on a related note for that last point here's a lazy meme as a gift for scrolling this far:

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Home~ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

Summary: Leaving behind everything he knew was hard for Neteyam and then adapting to the ways of the new clan was even harder. He'd push himself, overwork and exhaust himself even, to live upto his family's expectations; never really giving his own wants a second thought. That's why Y/N was the prefect companion for him, someone who kept things in his life balanced, who made sure to let him know that what he wanted was just as important, perhaps even more so, than what everyone else wanted of him.

//slow burn, cute Neytiri and Y/N bonding moment plus Lo'ak being a menace and HEAVY ANGST//

masterlist, Part 3

Part 2

🫧

The previous couple of days seemed to be the most fun Y/N had had in a while. She and her siblings spent almost all their time with the Sully kids, teaching them all that they needed to know to survive out here with the reef people. It was refreshing to have a break from her own lessons of healing and hunting and granted that the forest Na'vi were taking their time with adapting to the new place, it was still enjoyable nevertheless to be around them.

Aonung was still hostile, refusing to give the kids a break for even a slight mistake, with the exception of Tuk. He seemed fond of her, on some occasions treating her just like how he treated his own sisters but he was too proud to admit that he'd grown a soft spot for the little one.

Out of the whole lot, Y/N had to concede that Kiri was the fastest learner. It was impressive really how much of a natural she was. Though Y/N also made a note that Neteyam was the more ardent learner. She'd catch him practicing their sign language by himself when the others played on the beach or he'd work on his diving whilst his sisters picked sea shells. She once even saw him trying to teach his Ikran sign language whilst everyone was enjoying dinner.

"Thank-you" he said aloud as he slowly signed, so that the animal could register the gesture "this means thank-you"

As promised, in between lessons, Neteyam would treat her to some random pieces of information he'd learned from his dad about the sky people. He taught her a few words and phrases, being as patient with her as she was with him. There were times when even Lo'ak butted in, trying to have his two seconds of fame as well.

"Not to brag or anything, but I used to visit the sky-people’s camp like all the time" he flexed, grinning like an idiot who'd just won a prize "Oh teach her how to say 'suck my dick' bro"

"S-suck my-"

"NO!" Neteyam practically jumped. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble for teaching the chief's daughter vulgar profanities "Lo'ak you skxawng! Go away"

In conclusion, the Sullys were an absolute joy to have around.

"You spend too much time with them" Aonung spoke coldly, pulling his sister out of her train of thought. He merely tolerated those kids out of obligation and because of his status as the chief's son. Beyond that, he didn’t give two fucks about them "even Tsireya isn’t tailing after them outside of lessons"

"Tailing after?" Y/N raised a brow, not to happy with the tone her brother was using "I'm sorry, why is me hanging out with them a problem again?"

"They don’t belong here" he said slowly, as if by doing so she'd grasp what he was saying and agree "ever since their arrival, we've been forced to baby them and teach them things we did effortlessly at the age of ten. You and I both haven’t had a day to ourselves to do our training much less relax"

"Those kids are doing their best" Y/N sighed, unsure why it was always her who had to deal with her brother's whining "you can tell they’re trying their hardest' they really want to learn-"

"Well their best isn’t good enough" He snapped, Y/N rolling her eyes at his outburst "I want them to go back"

"Shut up Aonung, don’t be such an asshole" she huffed, using an english insult that Lo'ak taught her and Neteyam begged never to say.

"What?" Aonung looked at her like she said something in gibberish, which to him was what the entirety of the english language would probably sound like.

"Nothing"

"Whatever, look at this" the boy struck a pose to flex his biceps, looking at his arms proudly. Y/N rolled her eyes at his antics. It was a bit funny how the conversation was abruptly halted just because Aonung wanted to flex his muscles. Brothers.

Not wanting to stick around for him to go back to his previous argument once he'd finished admiring himself, she left him to fond over himself and went to go take a walk somewhere away from the beach at which they were.

"Where you going?" he called out to her, smile dropping

"Away from you" she said over her shoulder, brushing the sand off her thighs.

"Why? I wasn’t done talking"

"Exactly why I'm going"

Not having much to do until later in the day, when she'd teach some weaving with her father, she decided to go help feed the Ikran.

They usually stayed near the far end of the village, occasionally vanishing for a few hours just to fly around. The clan's people brought them baskets of fish and sometimes fruit to keep them well fed and less cranky.

Y/N hummed to herself whilst carrying the basket that held their food. It was kept in a little shack at a distance from the Ikran. She was curious as to why there wasn’t anyone there at the time, this was usually when someone went to go feed them anyway. Not really caring much, she happily skipped toward them, slightly content that she could admire the creatures alone.

Her enthusiasm died down however, when she rounded the corner and saw Neytiri already there with a similar basket of fish beside her.

Y/N’s chirpy humming had the woman turning around, silently eyeing the girl from up to down.

"Hi" she meekly greeted, awkwardly hugging the basked like it was the only source of comfort she had at the moment "I came to feed them"

"Seze doesn’t like being fed" Neytiri flatly said, quickly glancing at the Ikran to her right who was busy digging into the basket. The other bird-like creatures were curled up for a nap, probably already done with their meal.

"Is that yours?" Y/N put down the basket in defeat, a bit disappointed she couldn’t stick around with the foreign animals.

Neytiri paused to study her some more. Y/N was a sweet girl by nature, her daughter Tuk never failed to mention that to her. She was patient and very smart, very proficient too. Despite her timid voice, she presented herself quite well, shoulders rarely ever hunched and chin up. She was curious little thing, that much was very conspicuous about her; always eager to learn or delve into anything new.

"Come" she beckoned for the younger girl who approached without a word, still holding on to the basket "put that down, Seze will only eat if it’s not directly being fed, she hates being babied"

"Sounds like my brother" Y/N mumbled as she did what Neytiri told, earning a brief grin from the woman. She took a step back and watched as the Ikran dived hungrily into the second basket of fish, despite not finishing the first one "eats like him too... don’t tell anyone I said that"

Neytiri's phlegmatic exterior melted away, laughter replacing her somber expression. Y/N was just humorous as she was diligent, an adorable little thing the older woman found her.

"Did you catch the fish yourself?" she asked, tone much more gentle and motherly now, which visibly seemed to put the younger Na'vi at ease.

"N-no" Y/N responded but quickly opened her mouth to futher justify her answer, as if she felt the need to provide an explanation so as to not be underestimated by Neytiri "but I am good at spearfishing, I've caught plenty of fish you know"

"Ah. But I must confess, catching fish with my arrows is much more easier than these spears you use" She told her and watched the girl's face contour into a look of confusion which she quickly masked with a polite smile, just nodding in agreement "you haven’t trained with a bow and arrow?"

Y/N only nodded a 'no'

"Hm," Neytiri hummed "I will see you little while before eclipse near the southern side of the reef, I hope you don’t mind using Lo'ak's bow while you learn"

Y/N's face lit up to a point where Neytiri was expecting for her whole head to just start glowing like the sun any moment.

"You'll teach me?" she excitedly asked, voice a pitch higher than usual "really?"

Neytiri only chuckled adoringly at her ardor to learn and responded by just ruffling her hair.

___

Y/N felt like she had conquered all of Pandora by securing a lesson with Neytiri.

She happily skipped to the beach to find her sister Tsireya and tell her about her day so far. She knew her sister was usually whiling away her time picking shells around this time of day, to use them later to braid into her hair.

What she didn’t expect was to run into her idiot brother and his friends caught up in a rowdy fight with Lo'ak and Neteyam. The boys were like hooligans, kicking, punching and pulling tails. Kiri stood in the distance, heavily judging the fools.

“Guys! Hey!” She made a run for it, wanting to stop this fight before any of the skxawngs managed to seriously hurt someone “Aonung!”

Her brother was too caught up trying to free himself from Lo’ak who was pulling his ear all while being dragged across the sand by his tail.

“That’s enough-“

A loud grunt interrupted her and she looked to the side to see Neteyam gracefully knee one of the other boys right in the balls.

“Stop it NOW!” She bellowed, jumping right into the mess of angry teen boys. Not wanting to accidentally hurt the chief’s daughter, Aonung’s friend’s begrudgingly seized their punching and scooted a few steps back.

“Is this how you want the forest people to know us?” She scolded, ignoring the wincing from her brother “that the Metkayina people are hostile bullies? Really Aonung?”

“That bastard threw the first punch!” One of them hissed at Lo’ak, who reacted by hissing back “maybe you should consider vouching for your people and not favour their asses for a change”

“Watch your mouth” despite being in pain, Aonung limped to toward Y/N, putting himself between her and his friend with the snarky tone “do not speak to my sister that way”

The boy only scoffed in response.

“Aonung” Y/N coldly spoke, though there was an undertone of concern lacing her words. Her brother was really beat up, face bruised, lip bleeding and skin scraped here and there “get outta here, go get patched up”

“He’s right you know” he lowly told her, eyes menacingly glancing toward the Sullys “he did start-“

“Then you should’ve put a stop to it” was all she said, staring up at him until her brother caved in and turned away, muttering a string of profanities under his breath that his mother would indefinitely ground him for.

“And you” Y/N turned to the Sully kids as Aonung and his friends made their exit “I know their teasing can get a lot sometimes but did you really have to hit him?”

“You can’t be serious” Lo’ak looked almost offended, as if he wasn’t expecting her at all to scold him “if it wasn’t for that bitc-“

“Mind what you say Lo’ak, he is my brother. A lot to deal with sometimes but he is still my family- the son of Tonowari” she then turned her attention to Kiri “and you just stood there watching and giggling, I always thought you were the mature one”

“Hey don’t drag her into this” Neteyam stepped forward, shielding his siblings both physically and in spirit “they poked fun at her, maybe save the scolding for the person who actually needs it hm?”

“Do not tell me who I ought to scold at and at who I shouldn’t. You were all at fault here to some extent” she hissed, her sharp fangs briefly making an appearance “is resorting to physical violence something you’re used to over choosing to resolve it with civil conversation?”

“Do not speak to me that way” Neteyam hissed, slowly losing his calm composure. He was well known and well respected in his clan, always treated and spoke to like he was royalty. Not a single person had ever spoken rudely much less snapped at him in such a manner. He was a warrior in training to be a strong leader “I’m to be the next Olo'eyktan-“

“No you were going to be Olo'eyktan, before your father left the forest” Y/N was letting her anger get the best of her, not bothering to think even for a second about the words that were leaving her mouth “now you live here in our clan, as a normal person with no high station. So you make your peace-”

“My father is Toruk Makto, he’s fought and won a war against the sky people” Neteyam’s voice was hauntingly low, a growl escaping in between a few words. The way he spoke, the way his tail arose, he almost looked like an animal waiting to pounce on his prey. He was well aware that he was no longer in line to be the next chief but hearing it from someone else in such circumstances made his blood boil “Your father says the reef people haven’t been at war during his time. Take his title of chief away and what does make you then? A nobody; because while I may never be chief, I will always be the son of the great warrior Toruk Makto and you are a girl that was simply born to someone who was already heir to the Metkayina clan”

There was silence.

Deafening silence.

Lo’ak was the short-tempered one in the family, always quick to say things in the heat of the moment; notorious for showing fits of rage and making impulsive choices but even he had to agree: Neteyam had gone too far.

“Bro” he softly called out to Neteyam, sharing nervous glances with Kiri who was just as stunned by their older brother’s outburst. It was unlike him to lose him temper and just say things without thinking.

As if his little brother’s voice was a force that pulled him back to reality, Neteyam’s eyes went wide with realisation after he’d only just processed what he’d said, knowing well that it was too late already.

“No, Y/N” he poorly began, tail drooping down again in shame “I did not mean to-“

“I’m so glad the Omatikaya do not have to face the shame of having to call you their Olo'eyktan” Y/N’s voice was oddly calm but that’s what seemed to scare them even more. She spun on her heels, keeping her cool “there will be no lessons today. And none from me henceforth”

[reqxxyt]

talent i never knew

pairings: charles l. x f!reader

warnings: none just max being adorable :)

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

I grew up around music. Since I was born, my mother would play music for all to hear but not many paid attention so she kept it to herself and her kids. I learned how to play the guitar when I was 10, writing my own music with small vocals but I never allowed anyone to hear. 

My mom tried to get me into the choir group for high school but I refused and settled for the band group pretending to be a beginner. I started to take piano lessons and I began to fall in love with the instrument, the more I played the more comfortable I got with allowing people to hear, starting with my mom too now my close family at small parties. 

I met Charles in my last semester of college and began as friends before he asked me out and we’ve now been dating for half a year. After all these months, I’ve hidden my musical hobbies trying my best to keep them to myself only allowing myself to hum to music on the radio if listening to any. But now, I would introduce him to the family that will never stop talking about my ‘raw talent’ that is being wasted on pursuing a journalism career. 

“Nervous?” the smooth voice walked over to where I had been getting ready in the bathroom, I glanced at him through the mirror seeing him with a small smile. I only shook my head, wondering if I should bring it up before someone else does but I decided not to. 

“I feel as though I should be asking you that” I teased him and he gave me a kiss on the cheek, 

“A little but it will be fine once I adjust to it” he said before leaving the bathroom to get his shoes. I let out a sigh still debating but I dropped it, maybe this will be a pleasant surprise. 

later

“Mija, it’s been too long” My cheeks were pinched and I only laughed it off before greeting my aunt, not forgetting to introduce Charles. He gave everyone the same introduction with a gentle smile and those who wanted a hug were respectful and followed me inside the house still not spotting my mom. 

I heard a squeal and immediately recognized it as my little sister ran towards us giving me a loose hug before running towards Charles embracing him in the tightest hug I’ve seen her give anyone. I smiled at the sight but remembered why I came in here in the first place. I walked into the kitchen and spotted my mom cutting some cilantro and onion. 

“Hola mami” I greeted and she gave me a small smile as I kissed her cheek. Charles greeted her with a side hug offering to help out but of course she refused. 

“Y/n when are you going to show us your new song” my aunt barged in and I immediately froze into place not daring to glance at Charles but could already feel his confused stare, knowing how his eyebrows would furrow and his eyes would narrow not liking the feeling of being excluded but didn’t say anything. 

“Not finished” I shrugged, finally taking in the courage to look over at Charles. 

“The piano is right over in the living room. Give us a sneak peek” my aunt pleaded, I clenched my jaw ready to refuse before my mom encouraged me practically pushing me to sit on the piano. 

Again, I didn’t dare look at anyone as my hand landed on the keys. Before I heard another encouraging chant from my aunt and mom, I pressed on the first set of keys allowing my hands to roam to their designated places whisper singing the lyrics barely audible to a regular audience but considering the only other people in the room were my mom, aunt, and Charles my vocals shined through the room not allowing a sound to interrupt them. 

I finally finished what I had written and let out a breath feeling my chest tighten before I felt a hand on my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze and sensing the tension in my body. I looked up and saw his usual smile but with glinted eyes, showing encouragement and support. My shoulders relaxed and I gave him a small smile, feeling safe. 

“That was absolutely gorgeous” my aunt complimented, running to give me a tight hug and having to shove Charles out of the way. I giggled at the compliment feeling heat rush to my face. 

I gave my thanks and the rest of the night was spent eating food while Charles kept asking questions about my musical past. I told him everything, feeling the most comfortable and safe near him. The questions didn’t stop after the party, asking me if we should get a piano and I denied knowing how expensive they can be. 

The piano arrived the following week, already built after a tiring day at work. 

“Charles I can’t possibly accept this,” I said shaking my head knowing inside I wanted to play my heart out, using every key imaginable. 

“It’s too late, there is no return policy,” he said and my jaw dropped. “Kidding, your only price is writing a song dedicated to me” 

“That will be all I will be writing” I mumbled as I sat down pressing the first key, feeling the vibration first before hearing it a millisecond later. My heart twirled and flipped, walking back to Charles giving him the greediest kiss as he deepened it. 

I’ll write the song later. I thought to myself as he lifted me up and walked us to out shared bedroom. 

[spookykoolkat]

the red j.m. | chapter one

CHAPTER ONE: STIFF AND COLD

series masterlist | main masterlist | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x younger!plus sized!reader

chapter summary: the life you lived was not the one you wanted, and unfortunately on your journey to absolutely nowhere, you were heroically saved by two men who were far from heroes.

warnings: su*cidal tendencies, thoughts, and actions (attempted su*cide), poor mental health, swearing, mentions of brief violence, MDNI!

wc: 5K

na: omg omg omg omg i'm so excited to share this with everyone. i've been working on this series for about two weeks now, and i'm trying to make sure everything is perfect before i post. thank you guys for ALLLLL the love and support i've gotten it makes me feel so warm inside :P please do nottt be shy! i love feeback, i love the comments and the asks, i'm friendly!!! AND thank you for 100 followers omg my gift to U! please like and reblog and leave your thoughts and comments i love all of it!!! i hope this is good!

YOU

november 15th, 2024

this was fucking impossible. 20 years later. and still, fighting to survive. fighting your way to survive by yourself, losing the people you stuck by, fighting to save people just for them to be taken by the world you lived in. you were pissed, to say the least. and as you trudge through city after city, sleeping and camping in the woods, killing those who were alive and those who weren’t people anymore, you truly wished you were dead. you practically were, it was going to find you sooner or later. death. 

but you accepted it. you knew that this long trail of steps you've taken from texas to where ever you are now, was going to come to an end. but it wasn't ending without a never ending fight you put up for yourself. as long as you were here, you refused to accept defeat and lay down to die.

with all of the silence you had to yourself, you found yourself thinking a lot. you remembered the first day it started, down to the minute, down to what you were wearing. you were only five, five years old when everything came crashing down, literally. you promised yourself that the fear you felt growing up as a child  and having to watch everyone you’ve ever loved be ripped from you, picking up a gun to shoot your first clicker, and picking it up again to kill those who tried to kill you—you wouldn’t experience again. 

so, you avoided civilization. or what FEDRA called civilization. it was bullshit to you. it felt like an excuse for not having anything locked and loaded in a situation like this, and it felt the same as your last government. it was suppression, control, lack of free will. they wanted assimilation and compliance in return for what seemed like a dictatorship ran by none other, those in power. those who were left at least. you'd been trapped inside of a QZ not too far from texas, one with harsh summers and hot winters. you felt like you were in actual hell.

you avoided people, their pleas for help as you traveled by yourself or in groups that never lasted long. the only person that mattered in this world was you, and there was no grace from god that you would find any other family, any other friends—because you had none. you didn't make any, and you were better off for it.

you couldn’t deny that you had days where you wanted to let it go. let all of the survival tactics, the lessons you’ve learned from people you traveled with—let yourself be consumed by the evil of the world.

you also didn’t understand why people, and yourself, fought so hard to live in a world that was worse than the one before. why people fought so hard to live in a world where now, people just take. it was an endless cycle of blood and violence, the only way of survival is by taking. never giving, because when you give, you’re dead. 

but you realized if you didn't fight, if you didn't resort to a bullet to the head, you would die just like the ones around you. you tried to be better than the people that were left. by better you meant not resorting to killing innocent people to survive, but you failed. and so did the rest of the world.

you really didn't know who was innocent and who was guilty. it wasn't black and white. everyone did what they needed to do to survive, and if it meant being the guilty one, then you were okay with that. some people were in the wrong place at the wrong time, fighting for the wrong side, invested in a belief that the world will be good if we are divided.

you refused to take the accountability of taking someone's life. it wasn't your fault. this wasn't what you were made to be doing. you told yourself, but the blood on your hands said otherwise. it was this fucked up cycle that you grew apart of, because if you didn't assimilate you would die. so it got easier to take the lives of people, it was for your own safety.

as you carefully stepped in the snow, nothing but rocks, trees and snow surrounding you, you thought about how this was almost comical to you. how many movies about zombie apocalypses, night of the living dead, were out and you still felt it was impossible. there was no way that the world could turn into ruins within 24 hours, no way that your friends and family turned into vessels, having to die at your hand. this was simply too hard to wrap your head around, even being almost 26 years old now. you truly didn’t know how you made it this long, how you were able to keep up and fight despite everything–even down to the way you were shaped.

you were five when it happened, not knowing what the concept of anything really was. and as you got older— you did what you could to make surviving the easiest for you, rummaging through empty yet not so empty malls to find a decent sports bra, taking feminine hygiene needs and making sure your clothes fit loose/tight enough for your benefit. you learned as you lived, and you didn’t have much around you to learn from. you imagined being a woman in the real world was less difficult than this, but realized that life as a woman has never been easy. just made it more real in the apocalypse.

the violence, the danger, the belief towards women just got worse. you were at risk just existing, and the infected that walked amongst you weren't the only danger of humanity. you knew that you'd die by the hands of your fellow person, a clicker, or hunger. it was only a matter of time.

it wasn’t until you heard the sounds of the devilish creatures screech in a distance that you shook back to your reality. it was way too dark, snow falling too fast to see clearly, only using your ability of sight and precision to protect yourself. your gun felt light in your hand as you squeezed, finger lightly over the trigger as you reminded yourself of quietness. you knew you should’ve stayed back, waited until the sun was out to at least search for safety. but you knew you wouldn’t make it, the stab wound was lodged deep in your abdomen. you held the wound tight hoping to stop the bleeding, bit it was too much, too deep.

you realized the time you took to reflect back on your life and stolen childhood, it was your life flashing before your eyes. 

you truly didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know how you got there, and you knew this might be your last night. here you were in the midst of snow and darkness, and you felt yourself losing hope. what were you fighting for exactly? you were tired. you fled from your safe space miles back, and you fled from the place before that, and before that. all you knew was that your stomach was crying to be fed and fixed up, your throat was dry with nothing but a lick of spit, and while you made your way closer towards the sound of a river you noticed that the sound of clickers sounded more distant.

there was no pain in your stomach anymore, it was a throbbing dullness now and you felt the tips of your fingers tingling, becoming frozen around your gun. you weren’t sure if it was because your ears began to ring and your vision started blacking out on the edges, but you felt sick. 

before you could even register that you were going down, you fell into the hard snow and accepted the fact that this was it. and it was okay. you sunk into the darkness, feeling warm all around now, and allowed it. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

tommy and joel were on their patrol route around the commune when they heard the sound of screeching, possibly heading the other way. it was late when maria told tommy there was a wire tripped right outside of the commune, needing him and joel to take a patrol shift at eleven at night instead of the two rookies that were on it. 

“they ain’t gonna come over here,” tommy reassured, mostly for himself after hearing the screeches of distant infected.

“right,” joel sarcastically agreed, keeping his rifle aimed and ready for anything and anyone to jump out at him or tommy. joel kept following the trail he remembered following himself, wanting to make sure there wasn’t anything going on without his knowledge of it. 

joel was tired, to be frank. but the minute he heard there was a threat around the area, he didn't waste time to gear up and tell ellie to stay inside while he's gone. now, he and tommy were searching for something, anything that could be the cause of maria's concern.

they walked around a little more, searching the ground area and looking within the trees, finding nothing but a few deer and elk. 

“joel!” tommy yelled out. 

joel stopped in his tracks, tightening the grip on his rifle and immediately following his brother’s panicked voice. 

“joel! c’mere man, holy fuck,” tommy shouted, sending joels heart racing and making him speed up, passing by trees and large rocks to get to him.

“where are ya?” he shouted panicked, and as tommy said ‘over here,’ joel followed his voice, the only thing he could hear being the crunch of the snow. finally, he made it towards the river where tommy was kneeling down before something, something that looked like a body. 

“look man, we gotta take her back,” tommy said, checking her pulse and setting his gun down. joel just shook his head, looking at the small pool of blood that trailed from the woman's abdomen in the snow.

“she’s dead. if she’s been out here for however long, she’s gone. ain’t worth it.” he gruffly said, pointing his rifle at the body instead. 

“joel her heart is beatin’, i can feel her pulse. we gotta take her,” tommy said and joel felt himself grow angry. 

“it ain’t worth it.” he said once again and tommy shook his head, moving to flip your body over to see your face.

tommy swiftly moved your backpack and gun out of the way, and saw how blue your face was. your lips were practically purple, and your body was freezing cold, stiff. both the men's eyes trailed to the blood soaked white shirt that clung to your body, the injury deep and wide. but tommy saw the shallow breaths, he saw your chest stutter as it tried to rise and fall. 

“she’s just a kid, joel,” he said.

he was right. joel was fifty seven, and tommy was nearing his late forties and he could tell you weren’t older than thirty. why should it matter? he wanted to say, but he knew. his own lack of trust makes him take a bit to decide. what if it’s a trap? what if she got bit? then she wouldn’t be cold and frozen, idiot. what if this is just a distraction? from what! joel’s inner thoughts fighting with each other, fighting with his gut and finally closed his eyes hard before opening them back up.

“fuck,” he sighed and moved his rifle to sit on his shoulder, going to tommy and deciding to just pick your body up and carry you bridal style. 

tommy saw joel was angry, already knowing the thoughts in his mind saying she wasn't worth it, the girl's practically dead.

“go,” joel demanded and began to follow him as tommy protected the both of you. he didn’t know if this was a good idea. if taking you in and disrupting the course of nature was the best idea. just another mouth to feed. he thought to himself. if you even survived this. he knew he was cold hearted, he knew he wasn’t close to being a good person. 

joel couldn’t help it. he was selfish, he was hard headed, and he was cold. children, women, animals, it got to a point where it was all the same to him. if you were gone, you were gone. he’d killed so many clickers who posed themselves as children, so many women who weren’t women anymore, families even. he was desensitized in the worst way and even though it benefited him and helped keep him alive for twenty years, it was his biggest downfall. 

a little bit of him wished he was softer. more inviting, more trusting but in what fucking world? this was always a world of hate, he thought. a world of pain and despair, and it was only a matter of time before it turned into some sort of hell. 

and as he carried you in your arms, limp and blue, he wondered if you were even going to make it. what was the point of trudging through all of this snow for a dead body? he didn’t have much hope for anything else, for anything but his and ellie’s survival. and as you soaked his shirt with blood, he highly doubted there was a chance you'd live. maybe it was for the best.

joel was just so angry. this was not what he wanted to find. he did not want to be responsible for another person, one who seemed like she didn't even put up a fight. had she walked thirty more feet she would've made it. he thought.

the thing about joel is that the things that softened everyone else up, just made him irritated. even the fact that ellie opened him up as much as she did, he even wanted to resent her for it. but he couldn’t, because to him he could never blame ellie for anything. she was just a kid. but she gave him something to fight for, gave him hope again in a world where hope was seen as childish, naive. he couldn’t resent her for that. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

was this life after death? you knew your eyes were closed, but you didn’t know how you were still conscious. until you heard the sounds of beeping and heart monitors, you believed you had found purgatory. you wanted to smile, and it creeped on your lips until you heard the noises of what sounded like people shuffling around and immediately you shot up with your eyes wide. 

you were running on pure adrenaline. where am i? what the fuck? where is my gun? who the fuck are these people?

you looked around the room to see a woman, a man and another child  in  the beds, the woman was pregnant, the child was coughing into their arm. but it wasn’t until you looked right next to you to see a man with a mustache and a woman with locs standing closer to your hospital bed. 

“where the fuck is my shit?” you asked harshly, pulling the IV out of your arm and detaching any other wires on your body. 

“no, no honey don’t do that,” the woman said as she tried to step closer to you, and as you were going to defend yourself from her touch, you looked down and saw the swollen belly in all her vulnerability. so all you did was scoot further back into your bed, not wanting to get violent. that's a first.

“where is my gun?” you asked, looking around at the makeshift infirmary that was stocked with everything you could possibly need. 

“we have it. just for right now, you can have everything back just, who are you? was there anyone else with you? do you work for anyone?” the man said swiftly.

you just laughed breathlessly, looking down at the fact that you were naked in a hospital gown but feeling the sharp pain of the wound you remembered, now wrapped with gauze around your abdomen.

“i don’t have to tell you a fuckin’ thing,” you said shaking your head. 

“just let me go. i wanna go.” you couldn’t help but feel scared. the same fear that rattled you as a kid. you couldn't even meet their eyes. you forgot how to talk to people really.

“look, we can help you. i’m tommy, this is my wife maria. she managed and built a space for us to live with the help of her community, our community,  without the threat of those ugly fuckin’ things. you’re here in jackson, wyoming. it’s a safe community.” he said and you looked between the two. wyoming?

“we don’t take kindly to strangers, dear. and you happened upon an area that was real close to our commune, tommy and his brother found you, almost dead, bleeding to death.” maria said as she sat down on the other side of the bed, you just watched her. 

“why didn’t you just leave me?” you asked, weakly. you felt so powerless. so bare. no gun, no knife, no protection. 

“i told ya,” a gruff voice said, making your eyes search the room to see a broad dark figure walking to the edge of your bed. your eyebrows knit together at him and looked away quickly.

“what were you doin’ out there anyway?” tommy asked and you shook your head, looking down at your hands. 

“how long have i been here?” you ignored his question and tommy looked between maria and the man at the foot of your bed, who watched you closely. 

“a week.” you whipped your head to maria, asking with your eyes if she was serious. 

“you were taking your last breaths when they found you. you were so frozen, so stiff we didn’t really think you’d make it past that night. but, we managed to warm you up and put a feeding tube through your nose, stitch you up, hoping for the best. we weren’t sure you’d wake up.” maria informed and you ran your fingers through your hair, suddenly tired. 

“i need to go.” you whispered. 

“go where? is there someone you’re meetin’ or waitin’ on?” tommy asked. joel was silent, watching the exchange between everyone. but his eyes never leaving your figure. he looked at you like he didn't trust you, th same way you looked at all three of them.

“are you just gonna stare at me like a fuckin’ asshole or what?” you spit, looking at the man who was staring at you and glaring at him. he was making you so angry for some odd reason, not understanding why he’s just staring and not talking. 

“no. i’m not meeting no one. i don’t work for anyone. i don’t even remember where i was last before coming up here. i knew i wasn’t gonna make it.” you confessed and the three of them looked between each other. 

“you were alone?” maria asked, getting closer. you were so tired, so drained all of the sudden. 

“been that way since 2012.” you said.

“how old are you?” joel asked finally, his arms crossed against his chest. 

“i’m twenty five.” you said reluctantly and tommy shook his head, looking at maria. tommy was right. you were just a kid. 

“how long before i can leave?” you asked.

“i want you to stay,” she said and joel looked at her sideways. this wasn’t like maria, or tommy actually. joel wondered if this was putting everything at risk, if taking you in like a lost kitten was going to jeopardize everything. 

“you don’t trust us. that’s fine. you don’t want to stay? that’s fine. but letting you go back out there right now is suicide, and you know it. stay for a few weeks, or even a week. everyone deserves a home and a community, especially now. let me help you.” maria pleaded.

she didn’t know exactly why she felt so strongly about you, why she was okay with letting everyone else be denied and dumped from this place. even killed if they didn't leave fast enough. maybe it was her pregnancy, but she felt enough compassion to compensate for all three of you.

she sensed a sadness in you. everyone carried themselves in sadness, regret, guilt. but maria had never seen it so darkly, and she’s been around joel. she knew you could protect yourself out there, that’s not why it was suicide to go back in the open. it was suicide because she knew that’s what you wanted. she knew because she’s been there before. 

“why? what for? i’m just another mouth to feed, another person to take care of. it’s better if i’m on my own.” joel wanted to laugh honestly. he said the exact same thing, and honestly felt the exact same way. he understood where you were coming from, he saw the pain in your face, the eagerness to stand alone even if it killed you. 

“the more the merrier.” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

you finally got your things back, but not how you remembered and when joel threw the backpack on your hospital bed, you glared at him. 

“where’s my walkman?” you asked and he raised his eyebrow. 

“your walkman? it’s 2024,” joel said as a joke and you glared at him, fisting the fabric of your backpack. 

“where is it?” you asked again and he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. 

“it was broken, guess you landed on it or somethin’. maria took it down to get it fixed.” you looked down at your bag again and noticed your knife, ammo, and a smaller gun was still in there as well as cassettes that belonged to your mother, empty water bottles, tampons, and matches. you decided to get off the bed, leaving your backpack there and searching the room that was lined with hospital beds. 

“where are my clothes?” you asked him and he nodded to the shelf above the bed, and you sighed.

without missing a beat you swiftly got on the bed and stood up to grab the clothes, not the ones you came in but new ones, duller ones. it was a faded red t-shirt with some university logo, a black sports bra, black underwear and dark brown cargo jeans that were big enough to fit you. 

“can you close the curtain?” you asked, and he stepped back before closing it and letting you be in your own privacy to change. but you saw his shadow under the curtain, still standing there. 

“you don’t have to babysit me. i’m not gonna kill anyone.” you said as you removed the gown and slid on the undergarments quickly. 

“you think i want to? got a lot of other things to do, maria put you on suicide watch.” he said from behind the curtain, facing all the other beds and the exit. you scoffed and slid the shirt over your body, a little snug but good enough for you. 

you pulled the curtains away from you, grabbing your backpack and heading to the door that kept you. 

“where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked as he followed you, grabbing your wrist. 

“don’t fucking touch me, are you crazy?!” you asked and took the gun from your waistband, pointing it at him after cocking the hammer. 

“get your gun out of my face,” he seethed, letting your wrist go and staring at you with his hands at his side. 

“just let me go, don’t say nothin’ to them, let me be on my way. it’s what i want, and i know it’s what you want too.” you said and slowly backed away from him, watching him as carefully as he watched you. 

“i can’t let you do that,” he said.

you felt hopeless. like you were stuck there and even as you tried to back into the door, it wouldn’t budge. 

“fuck!” you screamed and used the back of your hand that was gripping the gun to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“don’t do anythin’ stupid, just wait for maria. don’t do nothin’,” he warned and you shook your head. 

“or what?! you’ll kill me? here,” you said and cocked your gun again after letting the hammer go back into place, raising it to your temple. “i’ll fuckin’ do it for you. i’m dead anyways! i can’t leave, you’re keepin’ me here, what’s the fucking point!” 

for the first time in a while, joel felt his heart beat pick up in anxiety. he was nervous, a feeling he'd only had a few times in his life. not only because you were threatening to scatter your brains everywhere, but because you were doing it in front of three other patients, one pregnant, one child and one in a coma. not only will you traumatize him, but everyone around you and he can’t let you do that.

but a part of him feels for you. because he knows what that feeling was like. to put a gun to your own head and pull the trigger, only it didn’t seem like you’d flinch like he did when you pulled the trigger. you weren’t scared to die, he felt it. you pull the trigger and you’re dead.

joel had his hands up to you, suddenly wanting to take some of that anger and pain from you. you were nine to ten years old when you were forced to be a killer, and he knew it took so much away from you. you were desperate, you were tired, and he understood, for once in his life the sincerity and empathy was present. It was a weird feeling for him, to not want you here but to also want to make sure you’re safe from yourself.

he felt responsible now.

“give me the gun,” he said, stepping closer and closer to you as your finger danced on the trigger. you didn’t acknowledge the crying child, or the expecting mother clutching on to her belly. your eyes were on joels, turning from hard and angry to soft, worried, almost afraid. 

“i want to go,” you choked, tears streaming down your face as you pressed into the unwilling door. 

“go where? there is no where to go. i reckon your family is gone? hometown gone?” he said, his hands in surrender. 

“i shouldn’t be here.” he knew you weren’t talking about jackson. his heart twinged at it, it reminded him too much of when he and ellie witnessed the same thing a year back. he couldn't let it this happen again under his watch.

he saw your hand fall a bit weak, the barrel of the gun sliding on your temple. watching your every movement he stepped closer, and closer—until he was somewhat right in front of you. he figured if you wanted to kill yourself, you wouldn't have thought twice about pulling the trigger, you were unsure, he could tell. he took the opportunity to get as close as you allowed.

“you ain’t gotta trust us. trust is earned. but i can promise you that these folks won’t let anythin’ happen to ya,” he said, “i know what it’s like, i was you. couldn’t trust not a damn person, killed anyone i had to. i’ve lost too. but i found somethin’ worth fightin’ for.” 

you just listened. you wanted to fight him on it, you wanted to ignore everything he said and just pull the trigger. you felt it was destined, you couldn’t fight anymore, you didn’t want to. you kept the gun at your temple, and in the silence between the two of you, you hear an immediate worried and frantic ‘what are you doing’ from maria and tommy behind him. you couldn't take your eyes off of joel.

the grip on your gun just gets tighter, and joel notices. he shakes his head fast.

“stop! stay right there.” he said and held up a hand to them, still having his eyes on you. 

“i’m tired of fightin’,” he heard your slight texan accent, coming out more in the light of your crying.

maybe it was ellie, maybe it was him still mourning sarah, and all the women he failed. but he felt something in his throat tighten, watching you so vulnerable like this and he doesn’t even know you. he didn’t know why this was so different for him. he’s seen people do this, seen people want to fall off the edge. and for some reason, he can’t fail you. he can’t let you take your life. 

“if you stay here, you ain’t gotta fight by yourself no more. you ain’t alone out here,” joel said and reached slow to your hand. 

“let me help you, please,” you heard the honesty in his voice, how he was practicing pleading for you to put it down.

your eyes kept searching his as you took your lip between your teeth, streams pouring down your face. you let him grab the gun, click the safety on and put it in his waistband. and as you stood there, silently crying and staring into his eyes asking for help, asking for comfort—he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t simply wrap his arms around you to let you fall apart for a minute, he wouldn’t let himself. 

he was like stone, and even though he talked you off a ledge, his heart wouldn't open the way you needed right now. he was going to tell you to leave, to take it somewhere else because now you couldn't be trusted alone. he was angry now. the fact that you did that in front of not only him but a child, he thought you were selfish. but he couldn't blame you.

he knew something was off with you. he saw how this world chewed people up and spit them out, sometimes swallowing them whole. he knew what it did to people, turning them into monsters themselves or people too weak to fight. to him, you weren't the monster.

he was.

maria ran past joel even being five months pregnant, and took you in her arms once she got to you. but your eyes could never leave joels, you were stuck. you were out of it, out of your mind, almost out of your body. you didn’t want this life, and you didn’t want to be around strangers. for once, in a long fucking time, you were scared. 

[respectthepetty]

Kawi is the worst, honestly

TLWR: Kawi sucks and episode seven told us exactly why.

We all know I love Be My Favorite, but the one point I love the most is how awful the show allows Kawi to be.

And before we try to defend our poor little meow meow, let's remember that Kawi knows he is the worst.

In fact, he repeats it all the time.

But episode seven honed in on why Kawi is the absolute worst.

Because Kawi IS the worst, so much so that he is even worse than Not, but it's not due to Kawi's low self-esteem.

The first reason Kawi is an asshole is because he only thinks about his future.

Others have mentioned how Kawi phrases wanting his dad alive because without him, Kawi isn't motivated to excel. It's not to simply have his dad alive, but because Kawi needs his dad to be alive. It's semantics, but Pear throws this in Kawi's face during the argument; Kawi has only thought about his future and not how his changes affect others. Even when Pear was left at the altar, Kawi went back to be the one to marry her. Kawi isn't present in the moment, which is the lesson he needs to learn, because he is always thinking about HIS future and how others will help him achieve that future.

The second reason Kawi is a jerk is because he doesn't think about anyone else's future.

This is different than the first reason because what happens when Kawi gets the future he wants? To Kawi, getting Pear, being a musician, and his dad being alive are all goals for him. He didn't think beyond that. One day, his dad will still die. Pear and him will break up. His career might not satisfy him. But Kawi never thought beyond that. Kawi never thought beyond this future moment for himself, and he certainly didn't think about it for others. Pear still wants a future beyond this moment, but Kawi has his ideal future and stopped moving. Pear wanted a present WITH HIM, but Kawi refused to keep evolving because he had everything he wanted.

The third reason Kawi sucks is because he isn't honest with himself.

This show harps on honesty, especially honesty with oneself. Kawi is oddly forthcoming about everything except his emotions. He offered up a lot of information to Pisaeng's mom, and when singing in the bar for the first time, he told the entire audience why he was going by Kawi instead of his full name. When Pisaeng tried to kiss Kawi, Kawi told him to be honest with himself about his feelings. When Pisaeng went to the gay bar to find answers, Max told him the answers were within himself. We see Pisaeng give the same advice back to Kawi in this episode in a full-circle moment. We've now seen Kawi, who blurts out everything, bury his emotions four times (the first night at the club, the beach club where he declared he was a virgin, outside the pink cafe where he told Pisaeng sorry, and now in front of the RV). Pisaeng has been there for each spell and had to take care of Kawi, so the common demeanor of Kawi's lack of honesty stems from Pisaeng and the feelings he has regarding him. The answer to Kawi's issues have always been within him. He likes Pisaeng.

But the biggest reason Kawi is the worst (even worse than Not) is because he isn't honest with others.

Pear knew Not was seeing both her and Kwan, but Kwan said Not wouldn't even admit they were together. Even if Not didn't tell Pear, she had years of practice in seeing the obvious.

Kwan has always liked Not. When he gave her the book then gave Pear one, she was sad. Not has always liked Pear, which is why he gave her the book and wanted to embarrass Kawi. The crumbs were always there.

Pear commented to Kawi back in university that he and Pisaeng seemed like they had been friends for a long time. Not questioned Pear about Kawi's sexuality. Pisaeng told Pear about Kawi's dad needing surgery and texted Pear about his emergency surgery instead of Kawi himself. Pear didn't need Not to admit to being with Kwan because she never needed Kawi to admit his feelings for Pisaeng. Mostly when it's so obvious to everyone else what is happening since the crumbs have always been there.

But Kawi continues to bury the confession. He tells Pisaeng how much he needs him and how much Pisaeng brings to his life, but he won't admit what matters.

When Kawi showed up to the beach and broke down in front of Pisaeng, Pisaeng asked him if he was still not over Pear. Kawi, who immediately reached out to Pisaeng when he needed comfort, who had been spiraling not being able to talk to Pisaeng, who demanded Max tell him where Pisaeng was, who if he was being honest with himself would have known this wasn't about Pear but about not having Pisaeng next to him, has even Pisaeng convinced that the feelings aren't really there.

Which is why Pisaeng lied.

Pisaeng saw those messages. Pisaeng knew Kawi needed him, but Pisaeng, a rich boy who is living on the beach out of an RV which implies he has distanced himself from his mother and her control, is tired of not being honest and has already had to take care of Kawi in all his moments of drunkenness which all included some raw confessions from Kawi. But how can Pisaeng trust a person who only says he's sorry when he is drunk? How can Pisaeng believe a guy who only kisses him when he has been drinking? Not to bring The Eighth Sense into this, but as Ernest Hemingway said, "Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut."

Kawi wants to get in the water, but doesn't want to get wet. He wants to do everything with Pisaeng, but doesn't want to admit they are in a relationship. He wants to kiss Pisaeng, but he wants Pisaeng to give him an out each time. He wants Pisaeng to know how much he loves him, but doesn't want to tell him. He wants Pisaeng to always be by his side without committing to him, so it's ironic that he yells this at Not.

Because the simple truth of all of this and what really hurts everyone is Kawi could change.

Kawi could be better.

We saw Kawi's future in the form of a good dad but a terrible person. Pear's dad admitted to drinking a bottle of wine a day. Pisaeng's mom immediately offered Pisaeng a drink to pacify him, but he refused because Pisaeng, who now lives in an RV on the beach, wants to live an honest life unlike the others who know they aren't well, yet can't seem to change for the better.

Kawi could change his present for the better, but he only cares about his future. Kawi is so focused in a future that he already lived that he continues to miss the point about being present. Instead of waiting in the past to see how events unfolded, Kawi jumped to the future. Instead of Kawi being honest about his emotions and how they are evolving, he focuses on what he he used to feel. Kawi is so focused on how the past affected his future, that he doesn't realize the only place he needs to be is the present.

Kawi shouldn't have jumped back to the future. Kawi shouldn't have shown up to that wedding. And Kawi shouldn't have gone to Pisaeng.

Because Kawi is the absolute worse when he tries to make the world fit into his predetermined idea of what his perfect future looks like and how his past influenced it instead of just allowing himself honesty in that moment.

Kawi can't change the past with the idea of changing his future in mind. He needs to change his present for the sake of changing himself regardless if that is the past or future. He needs to focus on the moment regardless of where the moment is.

Pisaeng's drunk kiss on his wedding day exposed this vicious cycle between them of holding onto an idea for years until it destroys them, but, hopefully, Kawi will see that hiding their real current feelings behind plausible future excuses only hurts them.

Moving Forward

Every week, I make some wild ass theory about this show, and every week it goes in the opposite direction since this show has been unpredictable.

Because this show is telling us we need to exist in that moment, not the future.

The show will end how it ends regardless of how I want it to end.

Much like Kawi is learning, we have to be present, and we have to be patient.

Because good things come to those who wait.

Sidenote: There is only one this week because this is the only one we need.

[slytherinshua]

IM SO EXCITED YOU DONT EVEN KNOW!!! AGAIN, CONGRATS!! ITS ALL WELL DESERVED AND IM HAPPY I CAN BE HERE AND WAYXH U GROW BC!!! IR TALENT SHOULD BE APPRECIATED!!

now to the req…. hehehe….. let me tell u how excited i was when i saw you’re taking k-dramas KMG!!!! so obv…

YUL FROM AOS!!! yul my beloved he’s such a cutie patootie– anyways… fluff: 39, 53 and other: 30!! idk i just feel like it suits him!!

MASTER YUL

genre. fluff. master x pupil trope. warnings. kissing. spoilers for aos ig? its not rly set in any particular episode but park jin is still the leader of songrim so i'd say loosely around ep 10-12. pairing. seo yul x fem!reader. wc. 2.1k. a/n. ahhhh axe tysm for requesting smth for yul 😭 our baby 🫶 i kinda got carried away with this and then didn't proof read it so idk how good it is lol but i had fun writing it!!

“Give me one chance. I can hold my own in a fight. I will do anything it takes.” You pleaded, practically begging at the steps of the training centre in Jeongjingak. 

People from low class families, and especially women were never accepted into Songrim Jeongjingak. Everyone in Daeho knew that, and you’d have to be a fool or stupidly brave to try to say otherwise. You were probably both given that you were standing by the doors of the training centre at the moment, your slightly scuffed up clothing and long hair giving you no favours. 

You wanted to blame your father for your current situation, but since he was currently cold in his grave and you respected him too much, you didn’t let your thoughts wander in that direction. 

He had always insisted that you needed to know how to defend yourself, starting at a young age. After years of burdensome training, you started to finally feel the rush and satisfaction of a fight. After years of complaining about the lessons your father taught you, you finally wanted to learn spells. You wanted to use the energy inside your body. You desperately wanted to feel like you were useful, powerful, capable. 

You excelled in all the ladylike areas, from sewing and needlework, to gardening, to singing and dancing thanks to your mother. But they were all just so boring. Your habit of spending your entire day in the public library reading all the books on spells started when you were 14. It only grew over the next few years until your father knew you wanted more than he could offer you.

He wasn’t a highly skilled mage, and in his lifetime had not needed to progress beyond Jipsu, the ability to gather the energy of water. You had mastered that years ago and had progressed to tackling the skill of Ryusu. You tried hard to master it on your own once your father taught you all his lessons, but it was a near impossible task.

You needed a master, but none would accept you as their pupil. After almost every master in the country turned you down for various reasons, you turned to your last option - Songrim.

Face to face with Lord Park, one of the most renowned mages in the capital, and the current leader of Songrim, you held your head high as he refused your pleas.

One look at you had him and the other mages glaring you down and shaking their heads with disapproval. They wouldn’t even give you a chance. Dozens of remarks were thrown at you. You let them pass through one ear and out the other, not letting these men get the chance to see you turn away defeated. You were already risking your pride begging them, but you wouldn’t leave without being able to showcase your skills first. 

“You really think our masters would waste their time and energy on a girl like you with no potential?” One rude young mage sneered, and you bowed your head further, finally feeling your blood boil with rage. You gripped your sword tight enough that your knuckles turned white, resisting the urge to unsheathe it and hold it to his neck. 

I have more potential in my left pinky finger than you or any of your ancestors have had for the past 300 years, you whispered under your breath in spite, making sure it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear it.

You were unaware of a party of mages returning to the training centre at the moment, and the one leading the way seemed to have picked up on what you were mumbling. He stood next to you, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he glanced at you.

“Cha Beom is an asshole, but I wouldn’t waste your words on him.”

You glanced to the side, surprised that someone was taking your side. As you looked him over, you were sure you had seen him somewhere before. His face was fair and handsome and his clothes were neat. He looked pristine and well-mannered, but more than anything, he looked like he stuck to the rules. He was probably the last person you pictured sticking up for someone like you. You also thought that the word ‘asshole’ didn’t fit coming from his mouth.

“I’ll spar with her. If she can beat me, let her train here. If she can’t, then I’ll train her myself.” The mage said confidently. Your eyebrows furrowed at his brazenness. Wouldn’t he get reprimanded for speaking such an outlandish thing?

But he didn’t.

You watched as Lord Park sighed and waved the young mage off. An older man, Master Heo, started to protest, but upon Lord Park’s clear disinterest in continuing the situation, he was silenced.

“Do what you wish with her, Yul. Train her yourself.”

The mage smiled at Lord Park and bowed before turning to you, “So, Y/n. Let’s see those skills, hm?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot of things.” He remarked.

“Do you really have what it takes to train me? Aren’t you just another mage at Jeongjingak?” You questioned with uncertainty, earning a scoff from the young mage. 

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” He asked in disbelief. 

“Should I?”

He nodded, “Let me explain it. I have always been the top student at Jeongjingak; I mastered all the books, reached Chisu in a short amount of time, and people always come to me when they need help. That is me, Seo Yul.”

“Ah… I see. You’re smarter than you look, then.” You concluded, walking forward.

Yul paused, eyes blinking and head turned to the side in thought, “Is that a compliment for my intelligence or an insult for my looks?” He called out to you, making you turn around again.

“It was meant to be neither, though I suppose you are… decent.”

“Decent?”

“Mm… Your looks aren’t exactly my style, but even I can’t deny that you’re not too bad.” You continued, smile widening every time his face further scrunched in confusion. Teasing him was more fun than you thought.

“Is this how you’re going to treat your new master?” 

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“You’re just very… blunt.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it, Master Yul.” 

Yul’s eyes widened slightly, the formality of the new name was far from the regular “Young Master Seo” he was used to hearing. Hearing it from you brought him some strange satisfaction and warmth. It was strange.

//

Yul was a hard master to please. More often than not, you felt like he was disappointed with you because he always kept a straight face. He always forced himself to hide his affection for you for fear that it would distract from your training, which frustrated you. You clinged onto the moments where he let his true emotions shine through just a bit. The lingering stares and little smiles— from those small moments you were sure that he was actually a warm person, and not the cold, strict master like he appeared on the outside. You just needed to find a way for him to break the facade. 

Because he was so skilled himself, impressing him only happened once in a blue moon. You tried your best, and improved quickly under his guidance. He would train you rigorously every weekday after his own training at Jeongjingak. Usually you would be by the river, using the rough and difficult terrain to your advantage. It definitely helped with your dexterity and swiftness. After just a few months, you had mastered Ryusu.

The bright smile on Yul’s face when you were finally able to gain energy from the water was one you would never forget. He even laughed a bit, and you swore you were happier about making him happy than progressing in your training.

Your love for teasing Yul never went away. His expressions were just too adorable to make you want to stop, and you felt that they gave him a small break from the pressure he was under as the eldest son of the Seo family. 

You were thinking about all your little habits you had picked up around Yul, when it hit you. How you felt that warm fluttering feeling in your stomach when you saw him smile, and the heat crept onto your cheeks whenever he had to touch your hand to show you a proper placement for a spell. That wasn’t a normal master-pupil thing. You liked him. 

As you packed up your supplies one late night by the river, his perfect face kept flashing in your mind. His cute smile curving on his lips like when you mastered another spell, the subtle curve of his nose, the plush berry colour of his lips, the softness in his eyes. He was truly one of the most pure humans you had ever come into contact with, and your adoration for him only grew everyday. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” You scolded yourself under your breath. Now that you were aware that you were in love with him, how much harder would it be to go to training with him? You were sure you were going to be flustered and tripping your own two feet the next time you tried to work on your spells with him.

“Who are you calling stupid?”

You flinched and turned around, seeing Yul sitting in one of the trees by the bank, watching you pack up intently. 

“Myself. Why’re you still here?” You asked, cheeks heating up when he jumped down from the tree smoothly and crouched down next to you to help you pack the rest of your things.

“Because my pupil is still here even though the sun has already set long ago.” He said, a smile playing on his lips but he suppressed it like always. His hand moved to pick up the bottle of medicinal herbs you had to put in your bag and his fingers brushed against yours, your cheeks heating up even more at the action. In a panic, you realised the moon shining down on you was just enough light for Yul to pick up on the colour of your cheeks. You silently cursed him for noticing every little detail about you.

“Wait… Are you blushing?” He asked with uncertainty. You backed away slightly, whispering a hushed “no” and hoping he would drop the subject. You weren’t used to this side of him, and your nerves grew every time his face inched closer to yours. How was he always so calm and collected while able to make you so flustered?

“Let me check your breathing technique, Y/n.” Yul said quietly, hand gently resting on your stomach. You looked up at him with wide eyes, breathing in short fast puffs. You saw his lips stretch into what looked like a smirk. “Your breathing is completely off. What did I tell you about practising it even when you’re not training?”

“I… I’m sorry. I must’ve… forgotten.” You mumbled, mind spinning as you wondered why his hand was still touching you.

“Do I need to remind you more often?” He asked, head tilting as he looked at you fondly. You stayed silent, wide eyes staring into his like he had put you in a trance— as if you were incapable of looking away.

Your eyes moved faster than your brain as they flickered down to his lips for a split second. If your brain was able to make a sound, it would be screaming at you right now. Why the heck would you do that? There was no way Yul wouldn’t catch on to it. You’re screwed.

You couldn’t think or even breathe when you saw him leaning in, eyes blinking closed until his soft lips finally met yours. Your cheeks burned as you kissed him back. You couldn’t think about anything but him - the feeling of having him so close, your hearts racing in sync, him pulling you closer by the waist. Your hands moved on their own, gently carding through the soft hairs at the back of his head until he eventually pulled out, still holding you close.

You caught your breath and calmed your racing heart, whispering a soft, “...Did you just kiss me?”

“Yep.” He smiled. You wondered when he got the power to steal all your confidence.

“Can you… do it again?” 

“I didn’t know you liked it that much.” He smiled, eyes glimmering, moonshine reflecting off his face, "I guess my looks are a bit more than just decent?" He teased as he leaned in once more, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

[oboetemasuka]

Aftermath

My bid for innocence in Milgramblr.

Or, more accurately, my bid that @good-beans started "Order of Attack". Sure, I sent the ask, but Beans created the concept of Eyepatch Amane.

I maintain that if I truly started it, Amane would have only been a bit scuffed. And here is my original vision as proof. (Uh, it might be tainted by 10 months of writing whump...)

Not proofread, but @stuffedsand and @purgemarchlockdown helped me brainstorm some of the dialogue.

(1089 words)

Wait, it's over a thousand words? It was only 500 words when I went to put the finishing touches!

Oops.

(This is queued for the 4am slot, but I will reblog with a poll once I'm awake.)

(Cw: canon-typical violence, cult mentality, reference to child abuse; Amane is a bad patient; medical information may be inaccurate)

-

A collision with the wall. A few whacks to the head. That was all Amane would get for now. That was all fine because she could barely move after that anyway.

The pain was all-consuming, unlike anything Amane had ever experienced before. She had never been this close to losing consciousness. Was she even conscious still?

The glare from Kotoko's eyes still burned in her. Unfathomable malice directed at a subject with no hope of redemption, but also a weak subject who could be tossed aside for later.

All she could do was wait for her proper turn like a good girl. 

Kotoko had more pressing matters to deal with, after all. That being Fuuta, who was screaming and kicking for her to stop. No wonder he was first; Kotoko must have thought he needed to learn the lesson faster. But Amane could hardly register what was happening to him, except that it was ten times as brutal as any punishment she had ever faced, and that a similar fate might await her.

But Kotoko did not finish because the door slammed open, and Amane returned to her shell of absolute, utter, intense agony.

Next thing she knew, Kazui was kneeling by her side, guiding her to lie down, asking her things that didn't make sense. Fuuta was lying limply on the floor, covered in blood. Kotoko was gone.

What had Kotoko said? Something about delivering punishments in order?

"Mahiru san…" Amane muttered. "All alone…"

"I know, but I can't leave you two here without anyone else to watch."

-

Truly, this pain was nothing. Amane's head was still spinning a day later, and a high-pitched sound rang in her ears. She tried to blink away the morning blurriness, but it refused to give way to clarity. A deep breath triggered the pain of a thousand bruises.

And yet she had gotten off lightly. The others could have died, or so she heard; nobody would give her more details than that.

She had to go see for herself. But the moment she got herself to her feet, she sensed the figure of a certain Kirisaki Shidou looming over her.

"Amane, what do you think you are doing? Go back to sleep." Ugh, how patronizing.

"I need to talk to my friends." She tried to her voice cold and calculated so Shidou wouldn't dare dismiss her, but she couldn't control the shaking.

"They are in no condition to talk. Let them rest. Do not bother them."

"Bother them? Surely they would like to see a friendly face after everything that transpired."

"You need to rest too. You shouldn't be walking around while concussed."

"I can walk around just fine."

"You'll only make your condition worse and slow down your recovery."

Amane glared at Shidou with as much willpower as she could muster. "Are you really going to drag me into your immoral practice? Now?"

In turn, Shidou sighed. "This isn't up for debate. Go back to sleep."

"Let me talk to them." It took all she had not to scream at him.

"You can do that after you rest." The desire to raise their voices seemed mutual.

As Amane opened her mouth to retort, dark spots began to swim in her vision. She wished she had the strength to tell Shidou to back off, but instead, he guided her back down to rest.

-

"Let me talk to them," Amane insisted.

"I am not going to let you risk your health over a conversation."

"I have proven that I can sit up for five minutes without falling over."

"I never asked you to do that. Go back and lie down."

"You said they could have died."

That caught Shidou's attention. "Your point is?"

"You are wasting a lot of your effort on me when they clearly need it more."

"Amane, you aren't making sense."

"I need to talk to them. What if they die, and I miss my chance to get closure because I'm resting?"

Not the most logical argument, but it seemed to strike a nerve in Shidou. "Fine. Five minutes with each of them. That's it."

-

Mahiru resembled a mummy, or half of one, with all the seemingly fresh bandages wrapped around her. She was well on the way to an early demise. Amane had half a mind to warn her to reject the doctor's evil work, but it seemed those words would fall on deaf ears. She had to make this time count.

"Mahiru-san… I'm sorry."

"Hmm…" Mahiru stirred slightly, eyelids quivering open. "Ama…"

"It's okay… don't push it… I just needed to say… I wish I was there with you. So you would not have to face those trials alone."

"But…" Mahiru pursed her lips, seemingly to say Fuuta's name.

"Fuuta-san was found by Kazui-san. I only wish you weren't alone." Maybe only was the wrong word. Amane leaned forward. "I wish that you won't die soon. I would miss you so much."

It took Mahiru a moment to process, but then she smiled slightly. "Thanks… Amane-chan…"

-

Fuuta was lucky that Kazui had intervened. But still, he was missing an eye, and it sounded like he could hardly breathe.

Rumor had it that he could have died if nobody stepped in. They had found Mahiru in critical condition, but they could have found Fuuta dead.

And then what would have become of Amane? No doubt, if left alone with Kotoko, she would have had it the worst. And if she had gone to visit Mahiru instead…

Amane shook away the thought. She only had a few precious moments to speak to Fuuta. He must have noticed her shadow because his good eye was now open and looking wearily at her.

"Fuuta-san, I'm sorry."

"For wh…" 

"I was too weak to stop Kotoko-san. I was there in the room, but I couldn't-"

"No…" 

What? That caught Amane off guard. Fuuta continued while she tried to find the words again.

"I'm… sorry… couldn't stop her…"

"Oh, no, it wasn't your fault. I-"

"Wasn't… yours… either…"

This conversation was going in circles, and time was slipping away.

"I just hope we can have a real conversation again someday." One that wasn't tainted by pain and suffering.

-

Amane tried to ignore the pounding in her head and drift off to sleep. She knew her suffering paled in comparison to Mahiru and Fuuta, but she had never known anything like this before.

She had never been this sleepless before. And yet this trial too would come to pass.

[louiseintrees]

He’s An Idiot If He Isn’t In Love With You Yet

Finally after a long amount of touring everything was at rest for a bit. So, to celebrate our new founded freedom we all went and got drinks. The band, and their lovers and a couple of friends, me falling in the friend category.

At the moment I was sat next to Alexa—who fell into the lovers category—and we both sat looking over the band. Matt sitting with Breana holding her close. And Jamie and Katie sitting together somewhere far away probably planning on going home soon. And Alex talking with Matt as he sipped on his drink.

“So, how long have you known Alex?” Alexa asked looking over at me holding her drink in her hand fiddling with it more than she was drinking it.

“Since the early years of primary school. I used to live in England because of my dad and we met. I’m honestly shocked we’ve lasted this long but I’m not complaining.” I stated looking over her.

“What was he like before the fame? I mean I imagine some things have changed since then, right?” She questioned.

“To be honest with you not much has changed. Less piano playing now, and he’s definitely gotten a bit more anxious but he’s still him.” I stated looking at her.

“He played piano?” She quizzed confusion on her face.

“Yeah until he was eight, did he not tell you?”

“No, I’ve never heard this.” She spoke looking confused still, a bit of disbelief at my statements.

“Yeah he played until he was eight and then he quit, calling it stupid and boring. His teacher was my teacher so we’d always complain about her. She was an old lady Mrs. Anderson and for some reason she really hated Alex, I’m pretty sure it had something to do with when he stole her dog and ran around the neighbourhood with it, but you didn’t hear that from me.” I giggled. “But anyway, he hated her so much and she would always give him hard pieces and then eventually he quit. But I was stuck still taking lessons which was kind of lame but that’s besides the point. When he was younger he had this big crush on some mystery girl he refused to tell me the name of, but he kept practicing pieces for her and then he planned this whole thing and the girl was, Sydney Thompson, and he invited her to his house and played her a piece and then he had his second ever kiss with a girl, it was honestly pretty elaborate for a ten year old. I have to admit.”

Alexa and I laughed together at the story.

“Who was his first kiss?” She questioned.

“Oh…well, me. We were in I think our second year of school together and we thought that it would be smart to practice kissing because we wanted to be prepared but it went as well as six year old could do and after that we agreed kissing was gross and never do it again.” I laughed causing Alexa to giggle along with me.

“I’m glad I get to talk to you, I needed these stories.” She spoke looking over at the boy we were speaking about.

“You know we’re not going to make it.” She said softly enough for me to hear but not enough for people around us to hear.

“What? You an Alex are awesome. You guys are so in love it’s like Katie and Jamie again.” I said wondering where this was coming from.

“Don’t get me wrong I love him and he loves me but we’re living separate lives, and he’s changing, he’s still learning and growing, and I’m far past that stage in my life. And to be honestly after he gets over me if he doesn’t date you I’m simply going to die a salty woman.” She said the whole thing taking me back.

“I’m sorry about that, you guys seemed really perfect, together, you were both really happy.” I spoke trying to ignore the second part of what she said.

“You guys are the epitome of perfect. And this isn’t coming out of a jealous girlfriend. Me and him already are planning a split my stuff is being packed and moved, but you guys are something else. Don’t get me wrong he does love me, but I think he’s got something for you that isn’t so innocently platonic.” She stated with a smile.

“Really?” I said confusion written all over my face.

Alexa laughed and looked at me, “Really. He’s an idiot if he isn’t in love with you yet. If I were him we’d already be married.”

I honestly was speechless, I’ve always had a thing for Alex, who wouldn’t? But no one knew that because I bottled it up. I’m his wingman, and I’ve never felt he’s been interested but her word’s definitely made me think.

“I’m going to head home for the night, it was great talking to you seriously.” She spoke patting my shoulder leaving and saying her goodbyes to Alex.

I watched intently. I didn’t know what they were saying but she was saying goodbye. But there was no hug or kiss. Just a simple goodbye and she left, she left alone. That was very unlike them. I guess they really were splitting.

And now I couldn’t stop thinking. They were seriously breaking up, weren’t they? I thought for sure this was going to be Alex’s end game. I thought I’d be standing at some venue for his wedding soon but I guess I was wrong. And what was all of that he’s an idiot if he’s not in love with you stuff. That was so out of pocket. It felt trippy. Like this wasn’t reality but it was.

“Hey.” Alex spoke taking the seat where Alexa once sat.

“Hey.” I responded not being able to focus properly on him.

“You alright? You seem a bit distracted.” He stated leaning in a bit.

“Alex, are you and Alexa seriously breaking up?” I asked softly, like he would break if I spoke any louder.

His mouth fell slightly agape and he looked down to the floor.

“Did she tell you?” He questioned the energy in his voice depleting into nothing.

“Yeah, yeah she did.” I said softly. I felt I had to say something other than that. I held his hand that sat in the bar top and spoke, “I’m sorry Alex. Truly she was amazing.”

He held my hand back and looked over at it avoiding eye contact with me. He sighed and then started to speak, “It’s okay. I kind of saw it coming.”

“If you need anything call me, okay? Seriously, it sucks when you lose someone like that.”

“I will.” He spoke looking into his glass before looking up at me. “Hey, do you want to get out of here, go somewhere? This place is losing its fun very quickly.”

“Anything with you, Alex.”

[river-bottom-nightmare]

“i really don’t get why i have to keep doing this,” bruce complained—quite reasonably and collectedly, he was certain. he did not whine.

alfred hummed, flipping through a case file detective gordon had brought him earlier that day. single mugging, married couple dead, no possible suspects. not a shred of evidence connecting it to a crime four years prior. their leads were getting thinner and thinner, but bruce’s will was iron, was a buoy in the water, was was a centuries-old fortress that refused to crumble. he refused to crumble.

though, in a very physical sense, he was close to crumbling right about now. atop a platform, he aimed a grappling hook alfred had given him, (its origins unclear), and shot at a higher platform some yards away. with a click of the trigger it spiraled upwards, loosely catching onto the target, much sloppier than his earlier attempts. to be perfectly fair, his earlier attempts had been an hour and a half ago. catch, lock, leap, then land.

“you stumbled on your landing there,” alfred noted, the barest flicker of a glance upwards. 

“because i’ve been doing this forever,” bruce said. “there are other things i need to learn. other ways i can spend my time instead of wasting it on this—” he gestured, throwing the grapple to the ground. 

“you’re still determined in your idea of a vigilante for gotham, are you not?” alfred asked.

determined? at times, it was the only thing keeping him alive, stoking his soul like kindling, burning up, burning away, turning to ash just to sustain that starving flame. was he the kindling or was he the fire? bruce wasn’t quite sure. either way, “yes.”

“then you will pick up that grapple and train for another hour,” alfred stated simply, little room for argument in his tone. his posture softened a bit as he looked up, though, soft for a man of his demeanor. “have you considered,” he said, “that it’s not a lesson in grappling hooks i am trying to teach you.”

--

“i can do this better than you, you know,” dick said his voice was airy, amused, riding the backside of a giggle. he was careful to let it come out that way every time. still, the taps of his fingers and swinging of his legs betrayed his impatience.

“balance isn’t the point of this,” bruce said, looking up at him. he had a case file spread out on his lap, ever-fond of paper despite the slowly-developing computer the two of them are building in the cave, because secretly bruce savoured the sting of a papercut against the thumb, the reality of it, tangibility in the most piercing way. it kept him grounded.

dick, who had been doing his level best to never once be grounded in his life,  quickly leaped from one ledge in the batcave to another. the grappling hook in his hand had been an unfamiliar weight at first, as in the circus he’d been much more reliant in his own momentum, the push and pull of his own body. after hours upon hours of training with it, however, the grip fit into his hand as though it had been molded for that very purpose. (knowing bruce...)

the two front flips dick performed during the jump clearly hadn’t been missed by bruce. the older man’s lips were pursed disapprovingly, but he couldn’t hide the amusement in the crinkles of his eyes from dick, no matter how serious he seemed to appear. bruce had grown to know dick in the months they’d been partners. he knew how much dick cherished being airborne, how it made his blood pound against his wrists, at his throat. still, the monotony was starting to get to him.

“if there’s a bigger lesson here, i’m not really getting it,” dick said.

bruce hummed, looking thoughtful. “maybe it’s best we practice this outside tomorrow. or, at least, in the city. i think that will help.” dick wasn’t sure how exactly a change in scenery would change the one thing he’d been doing over and over and over for the past two hour, but he swung down to the ground anyway.

“just keep in mind,” bruce said, “the grapple isn’t just a tool to take you from building to building. and a building isn’t just a landing place.”

--

“i have been trained in picking things up remarkably quickly, grayson. that’s enough practice. i have this down.”

even with those words, damian used his new grappling hook to swing up two stories to the next building. dick followed him, choosing at the last minute to follow damian’s example with the grappling hook instead of his own momentum and daring, as he often did.

“that’s not why we’re doing this,” dick said, settling on the stone ledge. damian touched down next to him. “i mean, you could��work on your flow from one leap to the next. they’re not as smooth as the could be—” a scowl on damian’s face, furious at being corrected, resolute in training himself until he fixed the issue, trying to hide his inadequacy altogether, “—but the lesson isn’t the grappling.”

“the lesson seems to be very obviously about grappling,” damian pointed out.

dick made an agreeing sort of noise, then seemed to stare at the stone ledge they were sitting on for a minute and a half. “to me, it’s always seemed as if all the buildings in this city are connected.” damian shot him an irritated look, but quelled when dick sent him a gesture in response: just go with it. trust me. “it’s all—it’s all gotham, it’s all the grit and bones that this city is built on. and the grappling hooks are a tool to take us from rooftop to rooftop, sure, but it’s a bit more than that. they connect us to the city, too.”

that, damian could see, the hooks of the grapple biting into the meat of the building, like a flechette striking through the heart of a bullseye, a puncture wound cutting right to the heart, a pinprick in width but hooking on to whatever it finds. it’s an ache he felt far too often, himself.

“yes, i know,” damian said rather belatedly, running his fingers over the scarred building. “so?”

“so,” dick said. “if all of these rooftops we run across like they’re our playground are gotham herself, and our grapples are what cut deep into her skin and bones, then what does that make us?”

and, well, when dick phrased it like that, scraped-raw skin and bruised flesh and and the ever-present thud of a heart, the answer fell to his lips easily. “we’re gotham’s lifeblood. we keep her trembling and shaking and fighting every night. we keep her alive.”

--

this is incomprehensible and far too bold a claim but i’m feeling far too metaphorical and overdramatic today

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[strangelockd]

His Eternal Home Pt.1

Pairing: Sherlock x FemReader

Summary: You and Sherlock have been together for a handful of months. Hes been working on a case non stop, so much so that he continually but unknowingly ignores the reader. Little does he know, shes finally had enough…

Warnings: Non really. Its just pure emotions

A/N: This will be a two part story based off of a request. Ill post part 2 ASAP. If you like the song check out my Sherlock Playlist. A big thank you to @lady-harvey, @vickie-mcmuffin & my sister for proofreading ❤️ Ive never written pure sad before so I hope you like it.

Dating the worlds only consulting detective had its many perks. One of them was always the impressive attention to detail that Sherlock would give at his career. Not only just that, but how he would even notice a new shade of lipstick you wore. Or the time you got a new hairstyle and he was the first to say anything positive about it. Memories flooded back to the feeling of his hands running lovingly through your hair; It was the small gestures of admiration you loved about him most of all. You grew to love his craft along with learning how to balance the more unsavory habits that seemed to follow.

One of the things you disliked above all else was how Sherlock would at times just flat-out ignore you. It wasn’t uncommon to find Sherlock quiet for days on end lost in thought. You wished for a moment that he would let you in; to have the desire and feeling of home with your special someone. The times when he would relax on the couch and just hold you; he really did feel like home to you. In those fleeting moments, it truly did feel like Sherlock was your safe haven. More and more lately you began to question deep down if he really felt the same towards you. The potential answer scared you nearly to death; not for fear of being alone. But the fear of you not being safe haven in return. Nevertheless, you stayed by his side in support.

Of course, you knew deep down he wasn’t doing all this to be cruel or vindictive. He loved you deeply, you were sure he did. It had only been a handful of months since you started dating and you didn’t expect an ‘I love you’ right off the bat. But fate had a whole different plan; for you, it was practically love at first sight. How could you forget the first time you saw the great and handsome Sherlock Holmes? The way he wore that perfect dark purple shirt that fit his lean frame just right. The way his blue eyes sparkled in the light with that gorgeous crooked smile when he knew the right answer. Not only that, he was tall and an overall knockout, and he choose you to be his girlfriend after all.

It didn’t come as a surprise at all to find Sherlock still pacing back and forth refusing to sit down. It was your first night off in days and all you wanted was to have some quality time with your man. Shutting the door with your foot you balanced the takeout food in both hands. “Sherlock Im back,” you called, hearing no reply. Knowing he was home, you scoffed setting the bags down on the table and seeing him right where he was before you left. Palms pressed against his mouth, peering out the window still lost in thought. The world around him was completely shut out as your voice echoed louder suddenly breaking his concentration. His head raised at your response snapping him back to reality.

“Sherlock, please come and join me for dinner. I brought your favorite Italian food from down the street,” sorting out the boxes, Sherlock slowly made his way over giving you a small peck on the cheek. Taking his place across from you, he took out his phone and started flicking through the news columns stating flatly. “so what have you been up to these past couple of days? This looks amazing by the way,” your eyebrows raised in shock at the question as he went back to his phone. How could he forget my lessons, I've told him so many times. Tears welled in your eyes as you finished off your plate before taking it to the sink. Your back tensed as you shot your head up, “because Lestrade thinks we can have this case solved by the end of the month if we can properly locate the murders next–“

“Sherlock…we need to talk,” cutting him off with your voice barely above a whisper. Sherlock's head perked up, eyeing you curiously as he sat his fork and knife down. Tucking his phone into his breast pocket, you heard him release a small sigh. “Sure no problem y/n,” he gestured with his hand for you to sit next to him. Glancing over, you could see panic behind his calm stoic demeanor. He didn’t have the heart to look you in the eyes. Taking his hand you leaned in closer, “Sherlock please look at me,” feeling his thumb twitch, he turned to meet your gaze, “you know I love you, I always have. But I’m noticing you are never mentally present with me anymore. I’ve told you many times about what I’ve been up to and you can’t even remember that because of this stupid case in Dartford. All I’m asking is for one night that’s ours, Sherlock. And besides, it wouldn’t kill you to take a night off anyways…” you trailed off with nothing more to say, eyeing the mahogany table afraid to look up.

Sherlock took a deep breath measuring his words carefully, “I do listen to you y/n, you know I’m trying,” bringing his free hand on top of yours cupping it gently, “And my work is important to me it’s…everything to me.”

You stood up, placing a hand on your chest exclaiming in frustration, “But I’m here too Sherlock! I always have been! The least you could do is make an honest sacrifice for me. Is it too much to ask of you to remember stuff about my life!” Wiping the tears from your eyes Sherlock stood up. His voice was laced with frustration, “But you knew what you got into with me! I just need to solve this case! If you can’t accept that y/n then-” Taking a seat in his favorite chair, he pulled out a cigarette lighting it with a match. Matching his tone, you stood up crossing your arms in disbelief at what you just heard, “then I can just what. Sherlock.” Tears welling in your eyes. In all your time together Sherlock never raised his voice to you. He always kept his temper, but something in this made him snap. The thought of a routine being broken….

“Then you can just leave y/n,” he spoke dryly, taking a drag of his cigarette. Flicking the ash to the floor, you grabbed all your stuff as fast as you could. Fighting off the pain and anger as best as you can. As you gathered the last of your things you wiped a tear from your cheek taking one last look at the man who was once your home. Grabbing the door handle Sherlock shot up snuffing out the cigarette turning towards you pleading softly.

“Y/n, wait. Please don’t leave,” he gingerly stepped closer extending his hand out, “I didn’t. I-I didn’t mean it,” eyeing you with hope, you shot him a look that could cut through the strongest man. But it was too late to apologize... Gathering all your courage, you turned the handle refusing to look back. Taking every ounce of strength you muttered, “Goodbye Sherlock,” closing the door you waited till it was all clear before the tears turned into sobbing. You’ve never felt rejection this bad before. Shaking it off you continued down Bakerstreet as Sherlock was finally left alone with his thoughts. Gripping the doorframe he finally collapsed his shoulders releasing a sob, what have I done….For he just made the biggest human error in his lifetime.

To Be Continued…

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