#editing in the sense of like. this is repeated or confusing or

[solasfenheral]

with all due respect the gaider books could’ve done with stronger editing

[luna-azzurra]

5 Ways to Actually Get Writing Done Without Selling Your Soul (or Crying into Your Keyboard… Again)

» Set Specific Goals

Sitting down with the vague idea of “I’m gonna write something” is a trap. It’s like walking into a grocery store without a list—you’ll leave with five snacks, zero dinner, and a sense of moral failure. Set a goal. A real one. Like...

“I’m going to write 500 words.”

“I’m going to finally fix that scene where my MC argues like a confused raccoon.”

“I will name the horse in chapter 3 and stop calling it ‘Equine Placeholder.’”

Specific = focus. And when your brain knows the mission, it’s much less likely to yeet you into Instagram for 45 minutes.

» Make Your Writing Cave Cozy (But Not Too Cozy, You’re Still Supposed to Be Working)

You don’t need a Pinterest-worthy office to write, you just need a space where your brain doesn’t go, “Ah yes, this is where we rot.” That means:

Get rid of the chaos pile on your desk.

Turn off your phone notifications (no, you do not need to reply to that meme right now).

Put on music if it helps—lo-fi beats, rain sounds, dungeon ambiance, whatever makes your creative brain purr.

And listen, if your writing setup is literally “half my bed, one sad candle, and a playlist titled ‘angst in the moonlight’”—same. Make it work.

» Trick Yourself Into a Routine (Because Discipline is a Scam and We're Just Goblins With Deadlines)

Look, “routine” sounds boring and adult, but hear me out: it doesn’t have to be rigid. You don’t need to write at 5am with green juice in hand like a productivity cultist. You just need consistency.

Write after you brush your teeth.

Write before bed with your laptop balancing on your stomach like a raccoon with a diary.

Write for ten minutes during lunch, just to prove to yourself you’re still a writer.

The goal is to make writing so normal, your brain goes, “Oh, this again. I guess we’re doing this.” Momentum is magic.

» Use Productivity Hacks (Or: Outsmart Your Own Gremlin Brain)

Your brain? It’s crafty. It will try to distract you with snacks, existential dread, and seventeen Wikipedia tabs. So: outwit it.

Try the Pomodoro Technique:

25 minutes of writing.

5 minutes of pretending to stretch but actually scrolling.

Repeat until your story is slightly less of a hot mess.

Or time block. Or sprint with a friend. Or lie to yourself and say you’ll just write for five minutes—then trick yourself into staying because now you’re in the zone and your villain is being so deliciously cruel.

Whatever works. Bribe your brain. No shame here.

» Stop Editing Mid-Damn-Sentence

Nothing kills momentum faster than rewriting the same paragraph eleven times before moving on. This is your permission slip to write badly. Like, aggressively mediocre. Like, "this dialogue sounds like a soap opera performed by raccoons" badly. Because you can’t fix what you didn’t write. First drafts are for getting the clay on the table. You’ll sculpt it later. Probably while crying and muttering “why did I make this character so emotionally repressed.”

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

If you want to could you please do a fic with Jason's Girlfriend (rather Arkham Night or when he is still early Red Hood) gets hit with Scarecrow's fear toxin and Jason is trying to help her through it or give her an antidote. But she is terrified of him and think he is attacking or trying to kill her. Maybe it's because while she does love him and he loves her she started working with him because she is helping Batman get Jason to hopefully see his family again and Jason does know so she is scared of his reaction. Sorry if that's confusing or a lot.

Thank you for reading whether you do the request or not

-🍓

Guilty Hearts

Hi 🍓! I know this took a while to get out but I hope you see it. I think we might be psychically linked because this came into my ask box while I was editing my other fear toxin fic. Enjoy! ~1k words

The Arkham Knight is going to destroy whoever caused you to get like this. He stands, ridged and protective, between you and the milita medics who are shifting uneasily behind him. You're curled into the corner of the room, knees to your chest and arms wrapped around yourself. He never breaks his gaze as you rock yourself, silent tears spilling down your cheeks.

Seventy-two minutes. That's how long you've been like this. Trapped in the nightmares of your mind's own creation, hallucinations caused by a dosage of Scarecrow's fear toxin. 

He doesn't know how you got like this, what happened, he didn't bother to ask when he was finally informed. The Arkham Knight just stormed his way to you. 

The medics managed to tell him that you've screamed your voice raw but still fought anyone who got close enough to try and stick you with the antidote. 'That's his partner,' he thinks. Always the fighter.

He scowls behind his helmet when he notices the self-inflicted scratch marks over your arms, a common reaction to the toxin. "Everybody out." He snaps, snatching a needle filled with the antidote from one the medics. They file out quickly, sensing his mood. They should be running. Everyone knows what you are to him. He's made it more than clear and the fact that you're suffering? The fact it took over an hour for him to be told? He'll make sure someone pays for that later.

But that is later, and this is now. You're what's most important. He tugs off his helmet once the last medic leaves the room and takes a step towards you.

You let out a raw, strangled cry with what's left of your voice. He doesn't know what you're seeing, what you think he is, but it makes his heart clench to see you so scared. He knows he can be frightening now, so different from what he used to be. But he'd never hurt you, never, not on purpose. 

The Arkham Knight crouches down to your level, and says your name softly, carefully, trying not to startle you. "I'm here to help, I promise, baby. I need you to trust me. I'm going to make it better." He soothes, creeping closer to you inch by inch. He makes sure to stay low, to make himself look smaller.

It doesn't seem to help, fresh tears fall faster from your eyes and you whimper. He repeats your name over and over, trying to draw you away from whatever fear is tormenting you. "Just hold on a little longer. It's going to be okay. I'm going to make it okay."

He shifts closer to you, reaches out one hand to try and touch you, and you bolt, scrambling to get as far away from him as possible. 

He catches you around the waist, needle clattering to the floor as he wrestles you to the ground. It's harder than it should be, he's trying to be gentle, trying not to harm you, but you're kicking and crying and clawing like you'll die if you don't fight. The Arkham Knight wonders what you see, what twisted image is taking over your mind as you fight him.

You see him. The Arkham Knight– Jason. You know there's something wrong with you, something bad, but between the pounding of your heart and the way the shadows seem to writhe, you can't remember what it is. 

You tried to get away from him– it. He's angry at you, you know he is. You can hear it in the robitical breathing, the way fire dances in place of the glowing whites of his eyes. 

You're scared. You don't know how he knows. You don't know how he found out or what he thinks, but he's going to hurt you. That's what the choir of hissing voices whispers into your ear. 

He knows you've helped Batman– Bruce. You didn't want to betray him. You weren't trying to hinder his revenge plan in any way. Bruce didn't even know it was you who told him. You just– all you did was tell him to have extra fear toxin antidotes ready. You just couldn't stand the thought of someone losing the people they loved, not when you knew exactly how it felt.

The Arkham Knight freezes when you start to beg. He's never heard you so scared, so shaken. You sound like he did. Back in that cell.

You thought a part of him might understand that. Your adrenaline spikes when he reaches for something just out of your field of vision. He's going to hurt you. He's going to make you pay for your disloyalty. You let out a sob and start to beg, broken pleas of his name leave your lips, it's the only sound you can make anymore.

"Please, Jason," You rasp out, "m'sorry. So sorry." He shushes you as you start to paw at his chest plate in a last ditch attempt to get away. Always so strong, you are. 

Jason takes your wrists in one hand and sticks the needle into your skin with the other, releasing the antidote into your bloodstream. 

"There you go, there you go, doll. Good job." He mumbles into your hair, pulling you up so you can settle in his lap, his arms securely around your body. Your breathing is shaky, uneven, and your hands move to curl into the straps of his armor. You're not trying to get away from him anymore, proof the antidote is taking hold. 

He keeps cooing mindless reassurances as you cry quietly into his shoulder, his hand running soothing lines up and down your back. He presses his lips to the top of your head and holds you a little tighter to him.

When you're more yourself, Jason will tell you you have nothing to be sorry for. He knows. Of course, he knows what you told Bruce. He knows everything about you. If spilling a few secrets to his plan eases your guilty conscience and keeps you by his side, so be it.

Scarecrow's just a means to an end anyway. All that matters is that you stay. That you keep following him down his path in hell, and if you turn to look back a few times, well, he'll just hold your hand all the more tighter and keep dragging you along with him.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Part ????: Final Steps (That You'll Repeat)

HI THIS POST WAS SUPPOSED TO GO UP IN JANUARY. Uuuh things. Are happening. In the US. Alas.

ANYWAY, to wrap up our editing tips. Some of this you'll do on your own, some of it you'll need feedback on, a lot of it is going back and forth between various edits. It is a process.

Tone and Voice

In review, is your character's voice consistent? Do they remain solid as a character, or do they wildly change in how they speak and act in the middle of the book for no reason?

When it comes to tone, are you writing with a consistently used vocabulary and structure? I'm not talking about dialogue - does your story feel the same, no matter if it's in third person or first?

A tonal shift or word change might happen if you've been working a long time on a project, and that's just a matter of going back through the book to make sure things match up.

Tension and Pacing

Does the action rise and fall naturally? Are your characters given room to breathe when appropriate?

Have you resolved (or addressed) all your subplots? Did you leave any romance or relationships dangling? Are there any chunks of your book that feel like a side-quest that doesn't contribute to the rest of the plot?

How is your scene pacing? Like your book, your scenes can't be 100% tension - they need to rise and fall. Fights and action should build naturally. If you're dropping a character into a situation with no foreshadowing, or if they obtain some new nifty power without really earning it, you might be throwing the pacing off.

Again, this just takes going back over to see what little things you need to set up to make the pay-off worth it.

Line Edits

Hopefully you've saved this for last, I know you won't, I know I won't, but fiddling with the language is going to be better done at the very end. Look out for:

Overused Words and Phrases - I find with each project, I become overly fond of one particular word. It's useful and fantastic until it pops up a little too often, and then I need to work on changing it up. Same with phrases - if you're brain is like mind, it'll find a neat little turn of phrase and repeat that six or eight times when you only needed it once.

Hedging Words - Almost, nearly, not quite, seems, appears, etc - these words are perfectly fine in academic writing, but they weaken your descriptive work. Instead of saying "he almost hit me" for example, describe the motion and the character's reaction. If someone seems upset, how can you describe that through their body language?

Dialogue Tags - You can use fun dialogue tags, and you don't have to delete every -ly abverb attached to "said." However, as boring as it seems, keeping it simple with mostly using "said" and "replied" will do most of the job.

Re-Checking Sentence Structure - If all your sentences within a paragraph follow the same structure, your reader is likely to start to skim. Change things up with shorter sentences paired with longer ones. Chunk actions scenes with short, punchy sentences, make sure descriptive paragraphs don't have sentences that go on for way too long.

Feedback

There's no easy way to find a good critique partner. I wish there was. You can and should join writer's groups and offer exchanges, be they online or in person. Sometimes you can love someone's work, but you don't mess with them as a critique partner. It happens, keep trying.

When you do find a critique partner, it's always good to give them guidance on what you're looking for. Some good questions:

Pacing - When did they put the story down? Why?

Consistency - Was anything confusing? Did the character's choices make sense?

Plot - Where there any twists that were too obvious? Did the stakes feel important? Was the plot satisfying?

A Note on "Predictable" Plot

There is a consistent argument about predictive plots versus originality, but thinking too hard about it may lead you astray. Certain genres have expectations - cosy murders will be solved, romance will end with the leads getting together, etc. Readers often go into stories wanting some predictability, because it's the journey of the story that matters the most. Making sure the story is engaging to read is far more important than trying to be original.

That said, you'll find in your second and third drafts that you will be able to put your own design on familiar stories. Treading familiar ground in the first draft is common, but when taking another crack of it, you can raise the stakes and make that ending much more satisfying.

Good luck!

[reignpage]

Beginner's Guide to SMAUs

How Reign makes SMAUs!

༯ I use my own text messages. By this I mean, I text my own number and it'll send back to me my messages, then I hold one text to click the option of editing the conversation by tapping 'More' so I can delete repeat messages and come out with a final product like so:

༯ Other creators have their preferred platform or app, unfortunately I am not familiar with them so I can't advise you on how to use those. Your best bet will be asking a creator you like for a recommendation and for a tutorial

༯ I also crop the pictures to remove the time stamp and battery percentage at the top and the bottom line toggle to minimise distractions

How to make convincing conversations!

༯ This is something I see some creators struggle with, and indeed, I struggle too from time to time. You need to remember that this isn't like writing full fics -- you have to write like the characters are actually texting. Sometimes people write as if the characters are conversing face to face but it's just formatted via text messages, which can take away from the immersion

༯ One question to ask yourself: would the character be having this conversation on text?

༯ Sometimes a creator sets the scene out as if the characters are in close proximity so it doesn't make sense that they'd be texting when they could just talk to each other

༯ To avoid this error, you could do two things.

1. Don't write about scenarios that can't happen on text. 2. Write something in to make it seem like they have a reason to text as shown below:

༯ You should also be talking the way one would on text. Sometimes it can be revealing for character exploration if a character abbreviates a lot, or uses emojis often (Inumaki), or maybe is very formal (like Nanami) so explore your preferences

༯ Definitely don't text like you're in a telenovela. It's unrealistic.

Other Do's!

༯ Do be consistent -- try to stick to a set layout. Since starting my smau writing journey, I've decided that all characters will either have one pic conversations, or two, or three and so on. Apart from my old smaus, you'll no longer find inconsistencies where Gojo has two messages, most other characters have one but then Sukuna gets three.

༯ Do minimise typos -- they can really take someone out of the immersion. Typos happen often, they really can't be helped sometimes so they're not this big, terrible, shameful thing. If they happen and you spot them and you can afford to fix it, then do so. My rule of thumb is, if the typo is egregious or makes the conversation suddenly confusing, then I'll change it. If they're tiny, then I don't.

༯ Typos can also be utilised -- I like to use typos to show that a character is in an out-of-the-ordinary state like, they're drunk or they're panicking, they're crying etc. This is another reason why typos should be minimised. So that when they are in your conversations, your followers will know that it serves a purpose and it isn't a messy thing you missed

༯ Do get rid of the Read stamp -- they aren't a big deal either. But I always add an extra message at the end so that the blue message isn't pushed up. It's hard being able to fit everything you want to fit into one screenshot so utilising all the space possible is very important. Let me show you what I mean:

This also makes things cleaner AND you can maintain the illusion of whatever time of day the conversation is happening. You don't want to be texting like it's at night but then the time stamp reveals it's actually 11am for you.

༯ Do utilise the reactions -- I use the reactions for a couple different reasons

1. To fill up space 2. To make sense of the conversation when I've had to delete a text to make room for everything important I want said 3. To highlight a lighthearted tone

༯ You do just have to take a pic before the grey copy pops up or if you want the grey person to react, then delete the blue reaction once the grey one has appeared. You'll know what I mean if you try it out yourself.

Now the Don't's!

༯ Don't use too many abbreviations -- they can be hard to understand for many people, for example, people whose first language isn't English (or whatever language the smau is in)

༯ Don't cut off messages mid sentence just because you don't have enough space -- it might be a little messy but of course, if you must, that's not a big problem, just make sure it's still easily read

༯ Don't just have one or two messages for the next pic -- if you need to use two or more pics to continue the conversation, then make sure it's two pics worth of texts and not just one single message. Again, utilise the space available

༯ Don't feel pressured to use real pictures -- simply saying [Sent 1 image] is enough and pictures take up a lot of space

༯ Don't send emojis on their own -- they come out large and then you're just wasting space

༯ Don't use the app when uploading more than 10 pics -- the app doesn't let you but the website allows up to 30

༯ Don't make each row one pic -- it makes your post annoyingly long. You should instead put three each unless you're trying to indicate that there's only 1 or 2 pics per character

How to tag!

༯ When you begin, it's best if you have all the tags you could possibly need already listed in your notes app or something so you can just copy and paste instead of writing it up again and again

༯ Or just copy a creator's tags (minus any personal ones they use ofc)

༯ Be sure to tag correctly though -- if something is purely smut, don't tag it fluff. Many people like to read only fluff because they don't want to read 18+ works so be respectful of that...remember minors are around us

༯ Also do not tag characters who aren't in your story for the sake of maximising notes -- it's annoying and you'll inevitably have someone complain lol

Most importantly: have fun!

༯ These are just my advice and how I do things

༯ There's no right or wrong way to write smaus so don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

༯ Have fun and don't take it too seriously

[sizeofyoursoul]

After the publication of The Queen of the Damned, I requested of my editor that she not give me anymore comments. I resolved to hand in the manuscripts when they were finished. And asked that she accept them as they were. She was very reluctant, feeling that her input had value, but she agreed to my wishes. I asked this due to my highly critical relationship with my work and my intense evolutionary work on every sentence in the work, my feeling for the rhythm of the phrase and the unfolding of the plot and the character development. I felt that I could not bring to perfection what I saw unless I did it alone. In other words, what I had to offer had to be offered in isolation. So all novels published after The Queen of the Damned were written by me in this pure fashion, my editor thereafter functioning as my mentor and guardian.

Edit 9-14-17 -- I fear this gives the wrong impression of my relationship with my editor; her detailed responses to my novels are very important to me, very constructive, and always right on. And there are still times, indeed, often, when she speaks up on a certain line, or a certain character, or a certain moment, asking pertinent questions, asking for more to illuminate, etc. I respect her insights mightily. I respect her responses mightily. ---- And over the years, I've been less threatened my detailed criticism. --- I still believe in the solo voice with all my soul, and when a reader tells me that she loves a certain paragraph or a certain chapter, I must know that I am indeed the sole author of that paragraph, that chapter. But I have become more secure, more able to handle my editor's insights and requests. --- What I have always rebelled against is the popular presumption that all fiction books have to be edited, --- the idea that fiction authors really are eternal adolescents, and, unlike painters or poets, they can't bring their work to perfection without a parental figure at a publishing house going over the work with a blue pencil. I've heard people actually voice this view, that fiction must be subjected to editing by some one else in order to reach its full potential. I have always questioned this. And always will. The publishing house does always have the option to reject a book if they feel it isn't good enough. (

EDIT - Feb. 18, 2019. I came back here this morning because I stumbled on a blog post where some one referred to this post and said it went "viral" in 2018. I was not aware of that. --- Allow me to add this: discussions of editing are confusing because the words involved simply are not precise. Every book published by my publisher, or any New York publisher, is thoroughly copy edited before it goes to the printer. No exceptions. And the copy editor is the final proof reader who catches a multitude of inconsistencies large and small, words that don't mean what the author might think they mean, unintentional repetitions, mistakes in chronology, plain goofs like a blond suddenly described as having black hair, possible dropped words, or sentences that for some reason don't make sense, inconsistent use of capital letters, and a lot of other things I can't now recall. None of my remarks on editors have ever referred to the almighty copy editor. I repeat: every book is copy edited. No exceptions. When I get the copy edited manuscript back, I not only go over ever single correction or query made by the copy editor, I read every single word of the book myself to catch the small mistakes which only I can catch. ---- When I speak of editors, as I have above, I'm speaking of creative editors --- In my case, this means the editor who accepted my first novel for the publishing house, and who has been my mentor, guardian angel, and friend ever since. And she does always respond to my novels with profoundly insightful comments. And she will indeed speak up if she thinks a character or a scene doesn't work as it should. -- My editor and I have one of the longest editor-author relationships in publishing today. We've been together over 40 years. --- I think we're a perfect match. But each such relationship is unique because each author is unique. I found exactly what I needed in my editor. And I count myself as blessed. I hope every aspiring author has good luck in this regard, and I firmly believe that getting to know the editor, becoming relaxed with the editor, and being able to explain one's feelings to the editor are all for the good. Thank you, guys, for all your marvelous comments below.

Anne Rice's thoughts on editors, twice revised for clarity, from her Facebook page.

[writer-logbook]

5 tips for proofreading & their pros and cons

Define your objectives for each chapter. In my case, some of my chapters are better written than others. My objectives for them will differ. Before starting my proofreading, I list my needs and areas of improvements, and I write them down somewhere so I have them in front of me rather than in my head alone.

Pros : allows you to know which points you need to focus on ; provides a guideline adapted to your needs.

Cons : risk of losing homogeneity and fluidity + flaws may be shifted to other chapters that didn't have them before due to a sudden imbalance.

Plan several proofreading sessions, each one of them addressing ONE NEED AT A TIME. (E.g., one for grammar, another for style, and a final one for coherence. ) And I insist on the "one need at a time" part. Even for those who can multitask (unlike me), I really don't recommend settling for a single proofreading session. It could interfere with your concentration and let you skip some flaws. And please, always give your chapter a final read after your edits to ensure that the elements make sense as a whole, and are not repeated every two paragraphs (I plead guilty, your honor)

Pros: allows you to focus precisely on each point, and give it dedicated attention.

Cons: you can quickly get confused and risk multiple re-readings + significant time investment.

I make my corrections on a separate file. Whatever you do, it's always better to have a backup and therefore to save your files (don't blindly trust autosave) to create archives. I think it's a two-ways process : 1) you open two files simultaneously, one with your V1 and one, blank, where you'll rewrite your chapter as you make changes. Eventually, this new doc will become your V2 ; 2) you copy the parts to proofread into a new document and edit directly in there.

Pros: allows you to rewrite as you wish without being discouraged by the following paragraphs - especially in case of the first way.

Cons: requires multiple files (maybe multiple screens to be at ease) and better organization.

Change the typography. I don't know about you, but after a while, I'm struck by semantic satiation (click on the link - it's Wikipedia -, it's very interesting) and nothing makes sense anymore. After the 52,846th proofreading, I might as well read in another language. I've found a relatively effective trick - not as effective as a complete break, but sometimes you need to move forward - which consists of changing the typography. I can't remember who gave me this advice though, but be sure they've been thanked more than enough in my mind. In any case, seeing words change their shape significantly helps my brain to stay focused and attentive. (Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me but I only see the results.)

Pros: it's simple to implement.

Cons: I don't know if this trick works for everyone or if I'm the only weirdo (you can tell me in the comment section).

Take notes. This is a very personal tip but I keep a proofreading logbook. Like, I record in a few sentences the first time an element is mentioned, how it's describes, and most importantly… I MENTION THE DATES. The story I'm currently writing is heavily governed by a chronological system, so I have an absolute need to keep the day count up to date.

Pros: helps avoid inconsistencies and oversights.

Cons: very tedious to maintain and creates (a lot) of extra work.

I've started my prooreading journey yesterday and I already want to die. If I find in the edits something that is worth making a post, be sure that I will. Or let me know if you're simply curious.

Gentle reminder : Best is the worst enemy of good so, at some point, you'll have to let it go and let your chapter live its life to its fullest. Don't be hard on yourself and be proud of your work - or know that I am.

[valkyriexo]

You have surgery | Han Jisung

ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,

ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!) Edited!

Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand you're holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.

A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.

"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.

With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.

-

As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.

Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.

Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.

You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.

Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?

And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. How are you feeling" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.

"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.

A flicker of sadness passes through his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. Do you remember? We've been together for a few years now."

You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."

Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.

"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.

You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.

"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.

With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.

And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.

You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.

"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."

Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."

You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"

But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."

As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.

Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.

"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."

Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."

"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.

His gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.

After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.

As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.

During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.

When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.

"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.

As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.

Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.

With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.

But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.

Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.

Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.

You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.

Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."

You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."

As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.

Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.

You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."

Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."

With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.

As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.

Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.

As he continues to feed you spoonful's of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.

"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.

Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon.

Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.

Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.

"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.

As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."

You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."

Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.

"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."

Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."

A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."

You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."

As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

[p1utofairy]

PICK A CARD: BARBIE edition.

★ which one of your manifestations is coming towards you?

NOTE: take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. i feel like people are in need of some positivity and encouragement so here you go! 🍬

pile one.

hi pile 1 🌞 wow i feel like you have a very bright personality! it's so potent and beautiful. you can light up any room you walk into, and once you start seeing your beauty for what it truly is, that's when you'll really become a magnet for the things you desire. i feel like you've come out of some deep situations that left you confused or wondering about your true purpose in this lifetime – but don’t let anyone or any situation ever dim your light or take away your power. your soul purpose is really special and i think you’ve been looking for clarity or some sort of answer/solution to this lack that you’re feeling in your soul. you will definitely receive a message and/or an answer to what you’ve been seeking to find. i see this manifestation being a dream come true, pile 1.

you’ve put the work in and now you’re about to reap the benefits of your labor. this could be a new job, career path/major, business opportunity or an increase in your finances. your spirit guides want you to put yourself out there and say YES to whatever this message might be. you already have the motivation and desire for it, so it just requires you to take action and be confident in your choices in order to receive it. you might downplay yourself a lot or make self-deprecating jokes that ultimately put you in a lack mindset. i’m hearing “psh…yeah right. i doubt something as extravagant and nice as that would happen to me.” but why? whose to say what tomorrow will bring? your guides want you to lean more into your optimism and have faith in yourself, and understand that you truly deserve all the great things that are about to unfold in your life.

you know how to make light of situations, so use that to your advantage. i feel like you have a great sense of humor lol but be kinder to yourself okay? it can be really tough when life starts throwing curve balls at you, but it’s what you choose to make of it. as phil dunphy from ‘modern family’ said, “if life gives you lemonade - make lemons and life will be all like whaaaaat?!” so go out there and show the world what you’re made of!

pile two.

heyyy pile 2! i feel like you're coming out of a period of grief or a loss of some sort – a powerful transformation. i feel like this is more about letting go of a toxic mindset and freeing yourself from negative energy/situations rather than on a physical level. for some of you, a loved one could have recently passed or a connection you had with someone ended but i think it’s more so that you’re in a period of transition and starting to accept things for what they truly are. you’re no longer letting anything or anyone hold you back. you’re gaining momentum in your life path, and your spirit guides are so very proud of you!

they see how much it’s taken you to get to this point in your journey. it’s taken a lot of patience and discipline, but you’ve persevered and made it through - and for that you will be rewarded. i feel like you’ve been trying to manifest a change of some sort…whether that be physically moving out, going on a vacation/traveling, going out more or just a genuine change in your everyday life; i’m happy to say that you will be receiving that! you’ve been slowly but surely focusing on yourself and nourishing your mind, body and soul. you’re now starting to realize that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to…you might be seeing a lot of signs/confirmations like angel numbers, repeating patterns, symbols or animals.

you’re starting to realize that surrender is key - not everything can be in our control and sometimes that’s a tough pill to swallow but that’s just the way of life and it usually works out in our best interest in the long run. a flow of abundance is on its way to you. you can manifest anything you want in this lifetime, it just comes down to your mindset and the power of your words. continue to be at ease and let your actions speak for itself, you don’t have to prove or explain yourself to anyone. you’re on the brink of success and it’s coming in fast, just make sure to always stay grounded and remember where you came from. heavy is the head that wears the crown; you know what you’re capable of and what you deserve so don’t let the pressure and weight of life hold you down. keep moving forward, it’s all going to work out in your favor.

pile three.

pile 333 i just wanna give y'all a hug 🥲 y'all are really going through it right now. heavy water sign energy. do y'all have any pisces, cancer or scorpio in your chart? i get the sense of someone laying in bed…just staring at the ceiling like why? why me? you're trying to process a lot of intense emotions and center your energy, but it's taking a toll on you right now. you feel very alone and and unsure if you can talk to anyone about this. not even trying to be funny, but yeah it's giving existential crisis barbie.

if you've seen the ‘barbie’ movie, you know the scene where barbie just gives up and lays down flat on the ground and they're like "she's not dead. she's just having an existential crisis." 😃 real AF but no no no you gotta quiet down your mind. you can 100% feel and process your way through these emotions, but don't let them take control over you and make you feel like you’re doing something wrong or like you’re not doing enough – release that negative energy! i feel like your mind is going a mile per minute, and you can’t even form a rational thought without getting upset. in terms of your manifestation, i feel like you’re really craving love right now. you’re ready to go out there and bag the person of your dreams, but your guides just want you to first take this time to quiet your mind and trust in them & second believe that love is going to find you no matter what. don’t force it…don’t question it — believe it.

you could’ve had a couple of instances where you thought it was the real thing, but it turned out to be really disappointing and not what you wanted. that’s your spirit guides telling you that you can’t force it. this new relationship will find you naturally and it will be everything you’ve ever dreamed of plus more! this person will not only be your lover, but they’ll be your best friend and your confidant. you will feel absolutely liberated and comfortable to take on any challenge with them by your side. however, you need to let this wave of emotions pass and understand that what’s meant for you will NEVER pass you. you got this my pile 333's 🦋 it will be in reach soon.

[nectardaddy]

don't ever leave - inumaki toge

cw: mentions of blood and death, anxiety/panic attack, light angst in the beginning

notes: not my fav but it's been sitting in my drafts forever, sorta edited

His throat was raw and scorched from words already, thinking to himself he would only make matters worse if he spoke at all. But what would he say if he could? What could he say at all?

How does one offer comfort without words?

It was past midnight, and the young man grappled with the very thought alone as he held you. Holding you tightly as if you would slip away at any moment. Violet eyes watched as tears slipped down your cheeks, feeling his heart strings tie themselves in knots at your broken form. You held onto him tightly, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his shirt that he had worn to bed because letting go meant being alone. And being alone made your mind race.

He didn't realize how missions strangled you, how much they choked you until you were gasping for breath even when you were safe. Didn't realize how much bloodshed and trauma his mind had already become accustomed to or completely blocked out - thinking as though if he did such, everyone else must, right?

He was so terribly wrong. Closing his eyes in guilt because that was so far from what you had done, and he hadn't even noticed. He witnessed the outpour of emotions he had long since forgotten when he opened his tired eyes to you that evening. An evening where he went to sleep rather early from the events of the day; an evening were his throat singed with pain and he winced with every swallow. An evening where he thought you did the same as you gave him a small smile before heading to bed.

But you didn't.

Unbeknownst to him, you tossed and turned, the inner turmoil of emotions bubbling up and over as you laid in bed. Tears running down your face in the darkness of the night as you repeated today's events in your mind - all the while he was sound asleep. Texting him to see if he was still awake, but with no reply you held your breath as you walked to his room. Choked sobs leaving your lips as you opened his door, too afraid to wait and knock as someone might have heard your cries.

You only craved the comfort of a man who couldn't even speak to it.

He was confused when he heard the door creek open and quickly shut, confused when the sound of soft cries hit his ears, and concerned when he heard the gentle call of his name. Groggy eyes opening at the noise only to find your shattered frame, haphazardly wiping your eyes and shoulders slumped - oh god why were you crying?

Now he was sat up in his bed, holding you like his life depended on it; because in that moment, he thought yours surely did. Pale fingers running down your back as he believed he shouldn't speak a word, he couldn't speak a word. His throat was raw and scorched from words already, thinking to himself he would only make matters worse if he spoke at all. But what would he say if he could? What could he say at all?

That you were alright? His words would snap you into a false sense of security, no longer feeling your emotions but shoving them down even further. Ask you what was wrong? You would spill your guts to him involuntarily, whether you wanted to share or not. Even if he were to utter a safe word, his throat was so shredded it would send him into a coughing fit. Then you would care less about your own feelings and more about his well-being. He was at a loss. So he held you. Unwavering in his hold as your tears didn't seem to stop, but wanting nothing more than to ease your mind.

"Sometimes I don't even want to be a sorcerer at all," he heard your mumble, your words jumbled and hushed as you kept your head in his chest. He could only nod gently, hoping you understood that he was listening, as you continued on. "I can't bear seeing you hurt yourself because I'm too weak to do anything."

His heart sunk in his chest at your statement, closing his eyes once more as his mind raced to block out the memory. But to no avail. The mere thought of the blood that pooled in his mouth earlier that day made him sick, and the visceral reaction that came with the thought of harm coming to you was nauseating. It was a thought he desperately wanted to speak to, one of which he only wished to utter the words he wanted.

He would rather succumb death than have you meet the same fate.

As much as the man swore to himself, to his friends, you didn't have such a foothold in his heart, his life would shatter without you in it. He vowed he would never, not in a million years, be so attached to someone he would risk his very own life. But here he sat, voice mutilated and hoarse as he had done just that. Yuuta would tell him it was, morbidly, romantic, but the young man would wholeheartedly deny ever doing such a thing - he was only doing the mission assigned. But he was naive to think such a thing, naive to push his own feelings aside for the sake of ego.

He didn't want to pull away, but he so desperately wanted to speak to your statement, to ease your mind in some way, shape, or form. The tears you shed made his heart wring and shatter. 'It's alright,' he signed, trying his best as he only pulled away one hand as to hold you with the other. 'I'm alright,' he reassured.

"You can't even speak, Toge," you quipped, your voice harsh as it was filled with tears and sorrow. Within your own words, you found yourself clutching his clothing for dear life. Hoping that if you guarded him, as you did your mind, he wouldn't slip through your fingers. Not whisk himself away through means of being a victor, a protector, because how could one protect if they were gone?

'But I'm here,' he signed, a simple statement that even he reveled in. Sorcery was a sinful business, a lethal business; one of which that broke the spirit, mind, and body. A morbid testament to those who ever dared to join the fray - it was win or die trying. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

Usually, the young man wasn't favorable with emotions, never knowing what to do, if anything at all. But it felt natural for his fingers to touch your chin, instinctive for his touch to be gentle and caring as he offered you to look at him. Violet eyes meeting your own troubled ones and pale fingers thumbing away a tear that slipped down your stained cheeks, he gave you a small, tired smile. "M' here," he choked out, his voice hoarse and broken. Seemingly a whisper compared to your own, as he couldn't find the strength to project.

The act made your heart melt within your chest, and few words were enough to set it ablaze. Though it was coarse and fractured, they were the only words you needed to hear in the moment. He was here, he was alive, he was breathing - hopefully now until the end of your days. "Don't ever leave."

@inumakis-boo @inumakisser

I know you'll appreciate this lol

[mingi-s-dimples]

OH EM GEEEE I LOVE YOUR FICS SO SO MUCH (be prepared to see me often hihi) can I request:

hongjoong x wooyoung x reader ? Preferably smut :D maybe where reader keeps annoying wj and hj and they teach her a little lesson AHHHH I love them so so much:(((

Can I be 💭 anon? :]

game over - topaz

REQUEST BY: 💭

pairing: best friends!topaz x fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: non idol au, smut (lil filth)

summary: you and your boy best friends were playing video games in the living room, but you might have teased them.. a bit too much to their liking.

WC: 2.2k

warnings: wooyoung is a fucking brat (everyone knows this), bratty!reader, woo is teaching reader a lesson for cheating in the game, joong joining in, 3some, creampie, oral (both m&f), handjob, blowjob, sucking off, cum (lots), overstim, squirting, nipple sucking, big dick!topaz, joong is a lil bit confused at first, teasing, unprotected (wrap up irl!), completely consensual!, unedited, I'm sure I forgot something. edit: lil bit of pet names and some degradation? (fucker, slut)

Author's Note: MUAHHAHA 👹👹 I loved writing this pfffff. Thank you SO much anon for requesting this, had so much fun with it. I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY WITH LIFE AND BACK TO SCHOOL THINGS 😭. I'll do better I promise. Topaz brainrot is EVERYTHING please send me more topaz requests. I hope I fulfilled your expectations, 💭! (send me an ask with your opinion HAHAHAH) love youuu (I am aware it's not necessarily Joong being annoyed by her cheating in the game but he joined in so he was equally annoyed HAHAHAH but he didn't show it -> this eas my view of Joong) -> I still don't feel like I put my whole power and creativity in but I promise y'all won't be disappointed with the kinktober requests 👹)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent the members in any way.

The living room was filled with the sounds of explosions, rapid gunfire, and the excited shouts of my two boy best friends, Wooyoung and Hongjoong. We were all huddled on the couch, controllers in hand, locked in an intense battle in our favorite video game. The stakes were high, and I could feel their determination radiating off them as they tried to outmaneuver each other—and me.

But little did they know, I had a secret weapon. A sly smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I casually pressed a hidden button combination, activating a cheat code I’d discovered online. Instantly, my character leapt ahead in the game, dodging bullets and landing impossible headshots with ease.

"Hey, how are you so good all of a sudden?" Wooyoung complained, glancing over at me suspiciously. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something was off. I just shrugged, trying to hide my grin.

"Oh, you know," I replied nonchalantly, "Just skill."

They groaned in unison as I racked up another win, not letting on that I was secretly cheating. Winning felt great, but the real fun was seeing their frustrated faces every time they lost to me. I couldn't help but laugh as Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation and he muttered something about "beginner's luck."

If only they knew the truth—that their unbeatable friend wasn’t quite as fair as they thought. You absolutely loved teasing them, the frustrated looks on their faces were amusing you so bad. But in a moment of focusing on your game, you did a thoughtless move, Wooyoung seeing your hand nibbling at the controller.

"You fucker" he shouted. "ARE YOU CHEATING!?"

"NO! WHY WOULD I CHEAT." you said, trying to excuse yourself.

"Woo, it's not the first time I've seen her. Though, I kept it to myself, it was really fun to see her win" Hongjoong said, almost unbothered by the situation.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!" Woo said, frustrated. "Goddamn, you fucked all my stats with your cheating. STOP IT!"

"You'd have to make me, tho."

oh.

"What did you just say, y/n?" Joong exhaled, surprised at your words.

"Exactly what you heard. Do you want me to repeat? Y'all would need to make me stop cheating. Whatever it takes, I'm pretty unbothered, tho"

Wooyoung threw his controller on the coffee table and approached you. He pushed you on the sofa, scanning you from head to toe. He sat on the sofa, his right knee between your legs.

"Say it again."

"No"

"Say. It. Again."

"Make me stop cheating at your little stupid game, you fucker."

"Now that's what I wanted to hear."

Hongjoong came behind Woo and he pushed him away from you. Both you and the younger looked at him confused, but you both suddenly realised the two of you know something he doesn't.

"What!? It's not like I haven't fucked her already."

fuck.

"Joong, you better decide now if you wanna join or look. It's up to you."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y'ALL FUCKED!?" the older man shouted, worried about the situation at first.

"Like I just said, it's not the first time. Now, go away if you don't wanna join. Though, this little slut might actually like the two of us at the same time. I need to teach her a lesson" Wooyoung said, spreading your legs apart with his knee, pressing on your thigh.

But Hongjoong didn't back off. In fact, he came closer, looking contently at what Wooyoung was doing. Now.. you've never been completely honest with Joong. You and Wooyoung have been fucking for a while whenever you teased him one time too much in a day, and he always fucked you dumb as a punishment. Though.. was it really a punishment?

You were looking at the two men approaching you. Wooyoung was already working on your clothes. He started by slowly taking off your shirt, leaving you in only your bra. He then tugged a bit at your shorts, giving Hongjoong a nod to come closer. The younger moved away from you for a moment, letting Joong take the lead and he took off the shorts, revealing the wet spot on your panties.

"What a slut. Already? Were you perhaps getting wet only at the thought of me fucking you if you teased me, hm? Is that right? Come here you little fucker" Wooyoung said and pulled you closer, one hand under your ass and one on your waist. He lifted you and went to his bedroom, where he dropped you off on the bed. The sheets got wrinkly and as you backed off to the headboard, Hongjoong took of his shirt. He was.. hot. Hot as fuck. Whenever you saw him without a shirt, or going to take a shower in only his briefs something in you made you want to crawl on the walls. But seeing him like that.. undressing for you, riled you up in a way only Wooyoung had ever did.

"Now.. what should I do with you, mm?" the younger said, approaching you. He pushed your hands above the headboard, holding them in place with one of his hands. His other hand went down on your body, and while he started planting soft, sloppy kisses, his hand reached your inner thigh, finding it's way to your dripping core. His kisses trailed from your neck and to your collarbones, where he left dark, purple marks. Then as his fingers started slowly rubbing on your folds, he stood up and sat between your legs, looking back at Hongjoong who was, waiting for a sign from Woo. That was the sign.

He undressed himself almost completely, being left in his briefs, from which a huge bulge could be seen. His cock was straining against the fabric, threatening to spring out at any moment.

"Now... baby. Who do you want first?" Woo scoffed.

"Both"

"Ohh, so you wanted this to happen, hm?" the younger said as he spread your legs out once again for the night and gave you soft kisses on your thighs, then within one move of his hand you were left bare in front of him, dripping on the linen. "What was going through that little mind of yours? Did you want both of us fucking you?"

"Y-yes" you mumbled, shivers being sent up your spine as he was now fingers deep in you, hitting all your sweet spots. You were squirming under him, his body pressed onto yours, but it didn't last long. He went down on you, licked his fingers and started eating you out. His tongue riled you up so bad, you started gripping the sheets to not squirm under him too much. He hated that, cause he couldn't eat you out how he wanted. He loved tasting every inch of you, feeling up your insides and sucking on your clit. Everything he did made you eventually move, to which he bit your inner thigh for a short second and held you down even more forcefully.

Hongjoong was also helping himself in the background, you were watching him contently between all your whimpers and moans. He was lazily stroking his length, waiting for an opportunity to jump in. Though, you didn't let him wait too long as you nodded to him.

"Come here, don't stand b-by yourself" your breath hitching from all that was happening between your legs. You murmured, "Let me h-help you" and as he was close enough to you, your hand started pumping him. The view he had was marvelous, you were being eaten out by Woo and he was stroked by your little hand, but little did he know it was about to get better. He let out some soft whimpers and as you pumped him two more times, you pulled him closer by his thigh and took his dick in your mouth. His cock was girthy, he was stretching your mouth good. At first, you slowly sucked on his tip, licking up his length from the base to the shaft. He didn't even know where to put his hands, in the end he rested one on your head, slowly guiding you to suck him properly. You gave the tip soft kisses then went all out and took his dick up your throat, slowly choking on it. You could hear him hold his moans back, but as your own moans were muffled by his dick deep down your throat, he could feel them revrebrate through his body. You could see how he was close to finishing, but you couldn't properly focus on him at the given moment.

"You taste so good, babe" Wooyoung whispered, and as his finger went to your clit and started rubbing it, you let out a loud moan, at which Hongjoong came undone in your mouth, surprising you. You slurped everything up and sucked him off for a short second to gather all the cum dripping from his tip and you swallowed, looking him in the eyes.

Wooyoung looked up to see why you were moving so much, to which he was greeted by the sight of you now sloppily kissing Joong, the position you were in not being the best. He saw the cum stains on your hand.

"Haha, it didn't take him that long to finish. Aren't you such a little slut, hm?" Wooyoung said and as he pumped his fingers inside of you a few more times and rubbed your clit, you creamed on his fingers beautifully, to which he sucked your juices off his hand once again.

"Now.."

"Joong.. please come here. Baby, what do you think about being fucked by both, hm?" Wooyoun said as he lifted and put you on his now bare dick, his back leaned on the headboard. "Tell me. What do you say?"

"P-please, Woo... Joong. I want b-both of you"

"Good girl. You didn't have a choice, anyways."

As he lined his length to your dripping cunt, Hongjoong also climbed on the bed and got a hold of your leg, pulling himself close to you.

"Babe.. remember this"

Wooyoung said and he started rubbing his tip on your folds.

"You'll always be..."

He pushed only his tip in.

"My lovely fucktoy."

And he bottomed out.

To which Hongjoong followed his movements, he pushed himself right in, gripping on your waist as he started wildly thrusting into you. You could feel that he wanted to do this for a while, the way he was fucking you was riling you on the walls. Wooyoung's dick was filling you up so good, girthy and.. the huge length hitting your cervix almost every time he bottomed down.

"F-fuck, you feel so good" the older one said.

"R-right? Look at her, fucked by both of us. She needs to be taught a lesson, right? What did I tell you about cheating, mm?" Wooyoung said and started nibbling and sucking on your nipples. "Hm? what did I say?"

"Y-you said that I-i should not- ngh, do it"

"And why did you do it?"

"I-i love when you fuck m-me like this. Like there's no tomorrow" you said and engaged in a steamy kiss with him, your ass slapping on both men's cocks, taking them up so good. The only sounds you could hear in the whole room was Hongjoong groaning and your own muffled moans as you were filled by two dicks at once.

"B-babe. That's so good. Keep it going, I'm close" Woooyoung whined, and as he pushed himself into your aching cunt a couple more times, he came in you, filling you up with his load.

"Yes, that's good. Take it all up" to which he continued with "I'm not done yet." and he started wildily fucking you again with his once again hard cock.

Hongjoong was also close, his thrusts became sloppier and they didn't have any rythm. He pumped himself into you a couple more times and bottomed down, gave you some soft kisses, trailing your spine and came in you, staying like that for a minute.

Wooyoung didn't show any signs of stopping. You could feel your tummy getting thighter and your clit aching harder.

"N-no, ngh, please, a bit slower" you mumbled.

"No? I didn't have enough fun yet" the younger one whispered and he pounded heavily into you and make you squirt all over him and the linen.

"See, that's what I'm talking about."

"Holy fuck" Joong murmured.

"See, Joong? She's just not the innocent girl you've known until now. Did you see just how good she took you?"

"Y-yes" he said, a little bit shy.

"The fuck are you turning your head around for? Ah, you're shy... for what? You just saw her squirt all over me, haha" the younger one scoffed.

"Don't worry. You'll see her like this many more times, you'll get used to it. Right, baby?" Wooyoung said, lifting you and hugging you thightly.

"Y-yes" you murmured, still dizzy from all that happened a moment ago.

"Good girl. Joong, let's get her washed up."

"Up for a 2nd round?" you said confidently.

"Thought you'd never ask" Hongjoong said, making the two of you laugh.

Networks:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz

[aevellewritessometimes]

Again and Again and Again and Again

Or, the reincarnation au fic that I hinted at in my other post, in which a semi-loveless aroace author attempts to write romace by projecting the way they perceive romantic love onto this BAMF demiromantic (hc) bitch who is Bad At Feelings. Additionally, while I was coming up with ideas for this, my brain just went "what if, in this au, MC is the scorned lover from the flower post?" and I kinda just ran with it. Also, I realized late into writing this that there is some great choose-your-own-ending potential here so if you liked this, keep an eye out!

Content Warnings: Gore (not too detailed), implied torture, mentions of captivity, Vere-typical implications of cannibalism, very brief and vague implications of cult activity, mentioned enslavement, death (repetitive in the reader/MC's case), brief allusion to suicidal thoughts (somewhat?) (brief description of being hung on a noose, but only in a metaphorical sense), mentioned starvation (both literal and metaphorical)

Other: Brief Undertale reference, brief Passerine (by ao3 author "blujamas") references (IFYKYK), author does not fully understand how semicolons work, probably improper use of italics, a little moment with "Oh. Oh." vibes Word Count: 3k

This work may be edited in the future if I discover any previously missed typos or content warnings. This work will not be cross-posted anywhere and I will make a direct announcement if that ever changes. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

Vere couldn't quite remember who you were the first time you met. But he didn't really care all that much, anyway. After all, whether you were a wanderer or a noble or even one of his worshipers, it didn't change the fact that the two of you crossed paths.

He didn't think much of you, at first. Just another mortal; just another meal. But for some reason---boredom, most likely---he chose to spare you a while longer, and was surprised to find your company to be even the slightest bit pleasant.

He was more surprised to find himself disappointed at your untimely death. And although he did plan on killing you at the start, it was not his hands that were stained with your blood. However, his footprints certainly were as he stepped through the puddle of your blood and over your mutilated corpse on his way to pay a visit to whoever---or whatever---did kill you.

Ultimately, your death had little impact on him. Decades passed and he barely even remembered the mildly entertaining mortal.

That is, until he encountered someone who strongly resembled you.

At first, he assumed they were just a distant relative. But as he got a closer look, he noticed something off about their soul. Something oddly familiar.

Imagine his surprise once he realized that it was yours.

For whatever reason, this person, who may or may not have been related to you, held your soul instead of having one of their own.

He was intrigued enough to linger near this familiar stranger. Without eating them, might he add.

There were several key differences between you and this... oddity, of course. Different backgrounds, different hobbies, different pet peeves... And yet, if he didn't know any better, he'd say that you two were exactly the same.

Almost as if someone had taken your corpse and hidden you away to bring you back to life. But that wouldn't make any sense at all, and he didn't bother to toy with the theory for longer than a moment.

Unfortunately, Vere didn't get to solve whatever mystery he seemed to have waltzed into. After all, one thing the two of you had shared was your mortality. This one at least spared him some time by succumbing to something more natural.

Vere left what was rest of that one behind, going on with his life. He was a bit disappointed and somewhat confused, but it still didn't affect his routine very much.

That is, until a few more decades later, when he happened upon yet another stranger with a familiar soul.

And then the cycle would repeat, over and over. Faces so different yet so strikingly similar. Personalities shaped differently by various upbringings that all shared the same color scheme. Each one being just curious and diverse enough to catch Vere's attention.

Eventually, Vere simply stopped trying to differentiate between your seemingly unending number of bodies. As far as he was concerned, as long as each one held your soul, it was still you.

Despite all else, it was still you.

And, as much as he loathed to admit it, he actually found you to be quite likeable. More than that, even.

Vere had long observed the relationships of countless mortals; the trust, the closeness, and even the way that their very souls almost seemed to weave themselves together whenever they formed a close friendship or fell in love.

He never thought he'd experience something like that. He never even thought he'd ever care if he did or didn't. He had faithful worshipers, and there was no end of pretty faces and bodies willing to spend a night with him. Why even bother with anything more?

But, once again, he was curious. Curious about why an emotion meant to be so peaceful could lead to just as many petty wars as rage did. Curious about why it was something so important to many of the most famous pieces of art. Curious about why being betrayed or heartbroken would always leave a soul marred with a particularly delectable form of suffering.

So, he tried to make you fall in love with him. It was much more difficult than he initially expected it to be. He's had countless people lust after him, sure, and he was well versed in fueling their desire. But that was something that could be lost overnight. Love, on the other hand, was not. Even when it results in you getting hurt, it takes time for the heart to lose love for someone.

He truly had no idea how to make you actually fall in love with him. On his first attempt, he only managed to become a frequent fling. But, fortunately for him, he had multiple chances.

Love. Such a small, simple word for something so incredibly confusing.

After your last death, he took some time to observe the couples he came across; watching their mannerisms and dates and conversations, scouring for an idea of how these people made things go past simple flings.

He was horrified to eventually find that one of the most important factors was vulnerability. As far as he was concerned, showing your stomach by bearing your weaknesses for someone to see was just begging to be betrayed.

By time he happened across the newest version of you, he was strongly second-guessing his sudden desire for you to fall in love with him. But something within him was practically aching for it. Something he didn't have the words to describe. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wanted it---wanted you.

And he always got what he wanted.

So, he tried again. This time, when he reintroduced himself to you, he decided to leave a faint hint at something he considered vulnerable hidden within all the flirting, innuendos, and thinly-veiled insults. Not enough to be considered consequential, but enough to entice curiosity.

It certainly wasn't something he was used to, and even just that was enough to make him feel a bit agitated. But by your second encounter, he could tell that something was different; all the usual lust-based attraction was there, but there was also a hint of something... new. Something more.

Whatever it was, it wasn't nearly enough to sate his increasingly inconvenient desires. Instead, it just seemed to add fuel to the fire.

And despite his hesitance, he repeated his actions. It was different each time: sometimes he noted a color he liked, other times a smell he disliked. Eventually, it led to him finding a few things you had in common. Other times, it led to petty, meaningless arguments.

He eventually managed to get some genuine smiles or laughs out of you. In return, you would sometimes manage to get a genuine chuckle out of him, along with a brief thrashing of his tail.

It wasn't always smooth sailing: maybe he'd take his teasing too far, or you'd just catch him on a shitty day. But soon enough, one of you would swallow your pride and apologize, and the two of you would go on as usual.

He could feel his seemingly unquenchable desire grow at a rate which scared even him, but he could tell that there was something similar growing within you, as well.

You were the first one to show true vulnerability. It caught him completely off guard: both the confession, and the way it made him feel.

Usually, Vere was the reason people needed comfort. He didn't have even half a clue of how to be comforting, or even if comfort was something you wanted or needed.

He settled on giving you some harshly-phrased but well-intended advice. And fortunately for him, it seemed to have worked.

But the way that you apparently trusted him enough to bear your stomach to him, even briefly... At first, he thought he was simply satisfied with the way his plan was coming along, but that explanation only covered a small part of it.

Your brief instance of trust made him feel like he was a starving man who had just been given a small morsel of food. It sated his hunger for a moment, but it wasn't enough to fill him. Soon enough, he was starving again.

He wondered if it was you who was starving him, or if he had simply been born hungry.

He wondered if you were starving, too; if he was the one starving you.

If the answer to that was yes, then there was a small part of him which wanted nothing more than to give you a feast, but that part of him was outweighed by the part that felt disgusted at the idea of someone having any kind of power over him.

But he knew that one of the other things he found made people fall in love was mutuality. If you were giving him food, he would have to feed you in return.

He resolved that it you tried anything, he'd just kill you.

He didn't reveal too much, but there wasn't enough vitriol in the world to accurately describe just how he felt about it. But you didn't do anything about it. You offered what he assumes was comfort or advice, but that was it.

You didn't mock him. You didn't try to use it as leverage or gain some kind of upper hand. You didn't do or say a single thing to make him feel any sort of betrayal.

It was just another hardly satisfying morsel for him.

This was the instance which made him finally question his desire for you; the bottomless pit of hunger; the endless longing; the exhilarating thought of you being able to trust him, and the terrifying thought that he could trust you.

The answer hit him like a knife to the gullet.

All this time, he was trying to get you to fall in love with him, and he didn't even consider for even a moment that he could've fallen in love with you, too---much less that he could've fallen first.

Love. Such a small, simple word for something that could inflict so much terror.

His first instinct was to run; leave the two of you starving for the sake of his own sanity. But Vere had seen and tasted the suffering that came from heartbreak and betrayal, and it pained him to imagine that burden and pain weighing on your soul.

That and, well. It would make him appear incredibly weak and cowardly to just run away like some teenager caught with a hookup. And he couldn't risk leaving such a humiliating impression on you, now, could he?

Time went on. Mutual vulnerability; slowly being less dreadful each time. No more morsels, just meals. No longer starving, just hungry.

All the questions he had about love were slowly starting to make more and more sense.

But all good things must come to an end; you were mortal, after all.

Death had never affected Vere much. At most, he was inconvenienced. But this, like everything else about you, made him feel something new.

Sure, he already knew---or was at least relatively certain---that your death wasn't permanent, that he could find you again.

Mourning, unfortunately for him, wasn't an emotion that gave a fuck about logic.

Love. Such a small, simple word for something with the potential to cause so much pain.

He didn't even question his lack of questions about going after you again. And again. And again and again and again.

The cycle was somewhat painful for him: having to wait for twenty or thirty years to pass; finding you again; trying to get you to trust him again whilst assessing if he can trust this new version of you; trying to get you to fall in love with him again while he was already smitten for you; staying with you as you died; repeat.

He couldn't tell which part of it was the worst. But as far as he was concerned, it was worth the pain every time.

Sometimes, he'd question why you: what about you made him fall so hard?

There wasn't a solid answer to that question. Or if there was, he couldn't find it. A part of him didn't care to.

It was almost funny; he was so terrified of you using him and his feelings to gain some sort of power over him. And yet, here you are, with the power to maneuver him like a puppet, yet no want or knowledge of it.

Sometimes it scares him, but he usually doesn't mind much these days.

It's a shame, then, that nothing ever lasts forever.

He tried not to recall the details of what happened that day; how he managed to lose to a group of pesky, mortal mages; their robes as white and bloodstained as the snow they stood in, towering over his limp form as they forced a collar around his neck and a harness on his chest like a broken stray.

He was dragged away and locked in a tower's dungeon. He tried to bite and snap at their prodding hands, growing more and more desperate with each attempt. And yet, he didn't even manage a nick or a flesh wound, thanks to the enchantment he soon realized coursed through the collar and harness.

It filled him with a brand new form of rage. Of fear.

Though he loathed to admit it, he felt completely and entirely helpless and paralyzed during those first few weeks.

He wondered if you worried about him. Of course you would care if he were in danger, but he was sure he had you convinced---or should he say fooled---that he was untouchable; that him being in any true danger simply wasn't possible. So, he wondered if you worried about him; about why he hadn't been home for weeks.

Did you think he was in danger? Or did you think he abandoned you?

He tried not to think of you too much. He had an escape to plan, after all. He'd just have to figure out the best way to clarify things once he made it back.

At some point, the mages began ordering him around. Nothing he wanted to do, but was forced to do so by the collar. It wasn't much: just pacing back and forth in his cell. Degrading, sure, but something he could bear if it meant gaining a chance at freedom.

Once they were satisfied,his cell door was opened. His first instinct was to lunge out, but their apparent leader---a woman wearing a mask---ordered him into docility.

Pity. He'd have to wait a while longer, then.

The masked woman hooked a leash through the loop on his collar---as if being beaten, collared, and caged like some mangy mutt wasn't humiliating enough---and ordered him to follow.

The only thing keeping his pride from falling into ruin was how the mages escorting him were still on edge, despite all their precautions.

Initially, he just tried to focus on the twists and turns and doors he was led through, attempting to make a mental map of his prison.

That is, until he was being led down a cramped, dank corridor.

The hall itself wasn't special. The thing that caught his attention was the faint scent that haunted it. The faint scent that sent a new wave a dread through him.

Your scent.

Just why, exactly, did this hallway smell of you? And why was it getting stronger as they approached a door at the end of it?

He already suspected---no. He knew the answer before one of the mages even removed the key from their pocket. He just didn't want to admit it. He so badly wanted to be wrong.

There you were, shackled to the far wall of the cramped, dimly lit cell.

Your clothing was torn in a few places. Their were bruises pretty much wherever your skin was exposed. Dried blood caked your hands and fingernails. You were trembling, both from the cold and from fear. It hadn't looked like you had anything to eat. There were heavy bags under your eyes.

If Vere didn't want every bastard in that tower to die painful deaths already, he certainly wanted that now.

The masked woman barely spared you a glance. Instead, she unhooked the leash, stepped away from the door, and uttered two words:

"Kill them."

It all happened so slowly.

The collar forced him to move before he could fully process the order. You glanced up at him, barely even having a moment to recognize him before he was on you. His claws tore through your flesh. Bones snapped. Your screams pierced the air. Your blood stained his hands. No matter how much he wanted to stop, he couldn't.

"Enough."

At last, he was able to stop. At last, he was able to see the carnage he wrought.

Somehow, you were still alive, though there would be no chance of saving you. You lied there in a puddle of your own blood, twitching and writhing in pain. You choked on whatever blood was left in your body. Tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up at him.

He could clearly see the emotions clouding your eyes---your soul. The betrayal. The heartbreak. The pain.

If you were anyone else, he would've taken great pleasure at the sight: some poor, naive fool who fell for his charms and was betrayed by his hand; soon to be a meal, body and soul.

If you were anyone else, he'd revel at the feeling of being covered in blood after a satisfying hunt and would later be annoyed by the inconvenient process of having to clean it off.

But you weren't anyone else. No matter how many lives you've gone through, you were you. You were always you.

It brought up a new feeling for him: heavy feeling of... emptiness.

He didn't bother to pay attention to the chattering of the mages as he was leashed and escorted back to his cell. He could only think of you. Of your limp soon-to-be corpse. Of your eyes. Of your soul as its shape began to change shape right in front of his eyes. Of your blood, staining his footsteps and marking his unwilling path. Of you.

The emptiness soon turned to something else. Something too cold to call rage.

The name of this new feeling didn't matter to him. All that did matter was that he was going to make sure anyone else who dared breathe in this godsforsaken tower would feel twice the anguish you had felt in the final moments of your life.

Soon.

The word repeated in his head like a prayer.

It didn't matter how much time had passed: years.

Decades.

He still held onto it when the better part of a few centuries had passed.

The cold feeling almost made him feel as if he were going insane, some days. Whenever that happened, he would indulge in someone else in order to distract himself. He usually killed his flings by the next morning, with there being a few, very rare exceptions.

There was one other thing he felt during his years of enslavement, nestled alongside the hollow, cold feeling: hope.

There were many interpretations of the concept of hope found in many different stories and poems. Some viewed it as an ethereal thing. Some viewed at as a skill.

To Vere, it was a noose hanging over a pit. It would strangle him for as long as it remained around his neck, but it would drop him to his death the moment it was cut off.

Even if living as a particularly useful pet was a special kind of pain, he could not let it kill him. While his original captors were long gone by now, the ones who took their places were hellbent on carrying the legacy. And so, his oath of vengeance applied to them in the place of the originals.

The only problem was: how to get the collar off of his neck so he could act on that oath?

Ais, the one person in the city he was willing to consider tolerable (and vice-versa), could certainly take on a few pesky little mages. And despite what others probably assumed of him, he would probably be smart enough to figure out how to work with the enchantments on the collar. Unfortunately, Vere would most likely be forced to kill him before the two of them could get very far.

Kuras might have been powerful enough to manage it, but he hated Vere as much as he hated the Senobium, and wouldn't mind seeing Vere rot away under their command; seeing as it would mean that he was dead and the Senobium was without one of their greatest assets.

Mhin was desperate to get into the damned place, sure, but there's no way they would ever agree to helping him. Not yet, at least. Maybe if he waited a while longer and they grew a bit more desperate, then he may have a chance. Although, the reluctance was very much reciprocated; perhaps he'd have to wait for himself to grow a bit more desperate as well.

And don't even get him started on that damned, flea-ridden mutt.

He was mulling over his regrettably limited options while waiting for whichever cleric had the displeasure of dealing with him that day when he spotted an outsider, looking lost as they cautiously stumbled through his alleyway.

A stranger. A very familiar stranger.

Part Two >

[dizscreams]

Hii hii can I request a Jack Champion × actress reader where they react on some edits Abt the two of them in an interview and then one ship edit Abt them came out thank you so much

++ I luv your writing so much some times I go overboard by liking all of them sorry Abt that Have a great day/night

ur so sweet anon ty :( <3 I hope I understood this right 😭

Mesmerized — Jack Champion ★

PAIRING: Jack Champion x gn!reader

TAGS: @beary-rambles @ashlesys-blog @wekiamo @wenvierismycomfort @aesthetixhoe @mbankfav @aqellano @dizzyscreams @c8rdigan @teyamsgirll @evanpeterswifeyy868

A/N: he’s so bf like he’s literallyy my bf?! I love my bf!! bf!! he’s so this song!!

The producers for the interview you were doing didn’t tell you what the interview would be about. Both you and Jack just assumed it was a normal interview until you had to do the intro for the video. ‘Action!’

You wave, “Hi I’m y/n l/n!” Jack follows you and waves as well, “And I’m Jack Champion.” You both share a smile before quickly looking back at the camera, “And today we are going to be reacting to edits of ourselves.” Jacks eyes widen a bit before nodding slightly, “Lets do it.” “Lets do it,” you repeat.

Someone gives you a phone and tells you all you need to do is scroll and give commentary. “Jack, do you ever look at edits of yourself?” You ask him before clicking on the first video, you pause it before it starts to hear Jacks answer. “Uhh sometimes,” he laughs, “When I’m bored, or they’ll randomly appear on my for you page. What about you?” You smile a bit, “Same here. I also get tagged in a lot of them.” “Oohh yeah me too.”

“Shall we start?” You ask shaking the phone a little.

“We shall,” Jack responds with finger guns. You chuckle and start the first video, it’s an edit of Jack. It was of his Scream 6 character, Ethan Landry. Jack was blushing slightly when you had looked over at him. You giggled when the video ended, “Soo what’d you think?” He giggled with you, “People are really talented. I will say though I wasn’t expecting so many people to love Ethan. Especially because of.. the movie,” he said slowly.

You hum, “The movies been out a while I think you can say it.” He looks at you and then back at the camera, “I didn’t expect many people to love my character in Scream 6 because he’s a psychopathic murderer who chases people in a Ghostface mask,” He says in an accent and claps his hands together. You cover your mouth with your hand as you laugh. “Alright let’s move on, next!” Jack says smiling.

“Okay, here you can take the phone this time,” you tell him handing the phone to him. He takes it and scrolls down to the next edit, “I think it’s of you,” he whisper yells. You recognize the clip used as one in an interview you did only about a week ago. Jack looked at the video and then looked back at you while grinning. He seemed to be enjoying this a little too much, but you didn’t mind.

“Aw I liked that one,” you spoke up first.

“Me too,” Jack says as he stared at you. He liked the outfit you chose to wear today, he always admired your sense of style. He also liked the way you did your hair, it framed your face nicely. “Jack?” He cleared his throat, “Yeah? What?” You let out a confused laugh, “Were you listening?” His face turned red at the question, “uhhh-” You shake your head with a smile, “It’s okay, next edit!” You stick out your hand, signaling for him to give you the phone and he just looks at it.

You shake your hand and nod towards the phone a bit trying to be more clear and he tilts his head. You look at him and he looks like a lost puppy with his big brown eyes boring into yours. You smile a bit and lower your voice, “The phone, Jack.” “OH! Right yeah here,” he stumbles over his words as he hands you the phone. The light pink blush dusting his cheeks once again making him look even cuter than before.

“Okay and here we go,” you mutter. The video plays and at first it’s clips of Jack, you can recognize where some of the clips are from. A lot of them are from Avatar interviews, which makes sense. But then there’s clips of you and that causes your eyebrows to knit together slightly. Just a friendly edit, you presumed, but at the end of the video there’s a clip of you and Jack together.

It’s a clip from a little behind the scenes of Scream 6. The small moment was of Jack putting his arm around you while you were both in the backseat of a bus going to set that day. You smiled at the memory and the video came to an end, “That was cute.” He nodded in agreement, he had the same stupid smile on his face, “Yeah.” You took a peak at the comments, all of them were ship comments.

“They’d be so cute together!”

“Are we sure they aren’t dating?”

“The way they look at each other 🥹”

“I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE”

“There’s no way they aren’t dating”

Your smile got bigger and you handed Jack the phone with a quiet, “Your turn.”

The interview went on for a couple more minutes until they were satisfied with the length that the video would be. Then, it was time for the outro. “I’m y/n l/n,” Jack said and you followed his lead, “And I’m Jack Champion.”

“And you’re watching Disney Channel!”

“That’s not it, Jack-“

“And you’re watching Buzzfeed Celeb!”

“There you go. Thank you so much for watching..”

“And make sure to leave a like for more content like this,” he said finishing your sentence in a British accent.

“Cut! That was great, guys.”

You looked at Jack only to find him already looking at you, “You wanna go get lunch?” He asked already standing. “Of course.” You guys made your way out of the filming room and he made sure nobody was looking before he grabbed your hand, giving it a kiss,

“You don’t know how hard it was for me to stay quiet about our relationship. You looked so good, I just wanted to brag about how you were mine the whole time,” he said while pulling you in for a hug. You giggling and wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss, “We’ll tell them soon, babe.”

[moodcrab]

Looks like we'll be getting jyggy with it...

Fixing Skyrim's Daedric Quests

Part III Jyggalag

Even on my second or third ever play through of Skyrim NEARLY FIFTEEN YEARS AGO I still fully expected to find a Jyggalag quest hidden somewhere in the world. His absence was something of an anticlimax for many, as The Shivering Isle was the highlight of Oblivion for a lot of players. Jyggalag being missing from the world in the 200 years since his separation from Sheogorath makes little sense, and Jyggalag doesn't do things that aren't perfectly logical. Either he was overlooked by Bethesda, which is sloppy, or there's an implication that the events of Shivering Isle had no real lasting effect other than the odd cheeky remark from Sheogorath hinting at being the CoC, which is underwhelming to say the least.

But, it does give me a completely blank canvas to write this post, as we are going to be completely ignoring the Creation Club addition. Anniversary Addition is not cannon. I would no more consider a mod to be canon than CC, which isn't a fair comparison as the average mod is more lore friendly than the best CC content, which not only broke lore and established canon but, on occasion, broke the plotlines to whole games. Better games. And it did so for the shallow reason of selling Skyrim AGAIN. I repeat, Anniversary Edition is not canon. Except Scout Armour. That shit is fire.

Who is Jyggalag?

Jyggalag wasn't in Skyrim and was barely in Oblivion, so let's get to know him before we attempt to write a quest that might get into some heavy metaphysics.

Jyggalag is the Daedric Prince of Order in the sense of pure logical and statistical probability, not to be confused with Peryite whose realm is the Natural Order (you get sick, you die), in fact he has more areas of overlap with Jhunal, the Nordic god of mathematics, another unacceptably absent god in Skyrim. Jyggalag is the denial of both determined fate AND free will, everything that is fated and every decision freely made was already accurately and precisely predicted.

Your fate is 3+1

Your free will is 2+2

Either way, you are 4

That's who Jyggalag is. Cold hard numbers. Humourless, colourless, immensely powerful. The implication is that Jyggalag knew that his power would invite betrayal from his fellow Princes but would not deviate despite hating living as Sheogorath, that he knew full well that every Greymarch he'd do for millennia would inevitably be undone, but did them anyway, which must have been hell for him as "doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results" is the definition of insanity. His own nature would have him both foreseeing this AND refusing to alter it, so we can add incredibly patient and relentlessly unyielding to his character breakdown.

*He is also, in my opinion, an aspect of Lorkhan, his mind to be specific, but as this is just a theory I shall leave this to one side for this quest, but if you're interested I have a blog about it that I'll link in the comments.*

Setting the Scene

In case you haven't read the rest of my "Fixing Skyrim" series, the game is now set only 64 years after Oblivion, not the vanilla 200+ years. So it hasn't been that long since Jyggalag was freed and it's somewhat more believable that he hasn't gathered a significant following on Tamriel yet. Also, Silus Visuius, the Imperial who runs the Mythic Dawn museum in Dawnstar, is no longer a man having a mid life crisis who got really into family history, he is the child of actual Mythic Dawn cultists who was indoctrinated and traumatized during childhood. This will be relevant later.

Quest: Restoring Order

After attaining a reasonably high level, if you happen to be walking around one of the following locations; The Library at the College of Winterhold, The Dwemmer Museum at Markarth or the class rooms of The Bard's College, you will find an area unlocked that wasn't previously there. If you wander inside you will find a library, and amongst its stacked corridors, a priestly, unassuming looking man in plain grey robes, sat at a table with an empty chair, presumably for you. Why these locations? Well they have a thematic link to logic and knowledge, but also they are areas you are unlikely to return to once completing their associated quests, which will probably be completed at a lower level, so the quest is somewhat hidden.

The man, you discover, is Dyus of Mytheria, the Chamberlain of Jyggalag. You sit and he explains who he is and the situation with Jyggalag, that he has recently been liberated and requires a new Mytheria, his Realm of Oblivion. It just so happens that a pocket realm of oblivion has recently been "vacated", Gaia Alatar, aka Mankar Camoran's Paradise. Well, "recently" if you're immortal, of course. The pocket realm has been rapidly dissolving into the endless sea of Oblivion, but has not fully collapsed yet, and there is still one from its glory days that lives. He directs you to Silus at the Mythic Dawn Museum.

Silus, who insists his museum is purely in the interests of history, is upset that everyone finds it to be in bad taste, so he's pretty eager to show you around. It's not difficult to get him to overshare, but you'll need a high speech level to get him to spill the beans on his fucked up family history, but he was indeed the child of Mythic Dawn Cultists and was the youngest member as a child. If you gain his trust he will show you a secret artifact that is usually off limits to the public because he had to do some dangerous and very illegal things to acquire them: The Bands of the Chosen, an item the CoC used when he destroyed Paradise, but lost them inside. There are two approaches to enlisting him. Using the information you learn from him and what is available in his museum/house, you can either convince him to that you are also a Mythic Dawn remnant so he will trust you, or threaten him with information that he is a secret Dagon worshiper.

You take him and the Bands of the Chosen to Dyus, who explains that as a devotee of Dagon and follower of Cameron, Silus's soul is still technically destined to go to Paradise when he dies. You have the choice of killing Silus and using a unique soul trap spell to piggy back his soul to what remains of Paradise, or, as he is now begging for his life, spare him and let him open a portal using his Mythic Dawn magics (which is how he got the Bands in the first place). Either way it only works if you wear the bands. Dyus will also give you a conjure Knight of Order spell.

You enter Gaia Alatar, which will be a bizarre half world, with bits of Ayleid like architecture floating around a black sea. You must fight your way past a unique enemy, the tortured souls of the Mythic Dawn, to a throne. Once there you must conjure and kill a Knight of Order, and place its crystal heart on the throne. The destroyed and chaotic world will transform around you into a white crystalline solid state, and Jyggalag himself will finally arrive. He will explain that the Knights and their hearts are his own creation, and therefore worked as "chaotic creatia" (an aspect of a Daedric Prince that can be used to mold a Plane of Oblivion in their image. The Plane is small now, but will soon thrive and overtake the infinite seas of Oblivion. He rewards you by transforming the Bands of the Chosen into white crystal gauntlets called The Hands of Order, which gives the wearer a chance of doing non elemental "crystal" damage when striking, a shard of crystal shall strike the opponent. This works even with hand to hand.

And that's it. Don't worry about Silus, I had no intentions of using him in my Dagon fix. I'll be honest I'm a little disappointed with how this one turned out, I've been coming back to work on it for a while and just wanted to get it posted. I did attempt to write actual dialogue for Dyus, Silus and Jyggalag but it wasn't great, so here it is and I hope you like it.

[sxfthannie]

Overprotective

↦ pairing: yandere!joshua x fem!reader

↦ warnings: manipulating, overprotective

↦ note: overprotective yandere joshua because it just makes sense! i feel like this isn't good enough but i don't really know what to edit either so here it is :')

↦ word count: 745

Joshua was the epitome of perfection. A true gentleman, he was always attentive to your every mood and need, and was always there with you through the highs and lows of life. He was the kind of man that every woman dreamed of, but alas, his heart belongs solely to you.

A man who is wanted by everyone is with you so why is it that you seem unhappy these days?

“I’m going out to meet Hyerin at 4pm later.” You murmur, head resting on Joshua’s chest while he gently runs his hand through your hair. “Then I’ll come along again.” He replied, but you were having none of that. “No.” You said firmly. “No?” He repeats after you in a confused state as you push yourself up away from his embrace.

"Shua, my love, I can't have you trailing behind me like a lost puppy every time I go out." You gently expressed, watching as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand," he murmured softly, sitting up on the bed beside you. "Why the sudden change of heart? Why don't you want me by your side?" His questions made you sigh deeply.

"It's not that I don't want you with me, Shua," you explained, your voice soft and tender. "It's just that I want to spend time with my friend alone." Joshua takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles over your skin as he speaks. "I just want to be the kind of boyfriend who can protect his girlfriend," he said, his voice filled with love and devotion.

“No other boyfriend does this.” you retorted, your patience wearing thin. You cherished Joshua deeply, but his constant watchful eye was beginning to feel suffocating. “Did Hyerin put you up to this?”

“What?” You utter in disbelief at his ridiculous words. “You’ve been fine the first few months but ever since Hyerin came into the picture, you’ve been trying to push me away.” You scoff at your boyfriend’s words. “You’re being ridiculous right now. She has nothing to do with this.” You say as you get off from his bed. “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

You only made it two steps out of the door before Joshua was by your side, holding your hand and stopping you from leaving. “I’m sorry, love, I–” a sigh escapes his lips before he continues. “It’s just that I’m scared something might happen to you. Like that day.” He whispers the last sentence as he leans his forehead against yours, big hands gently cupping your cheeks. “And I'm scared I won't be able to help you the next time if it happens again.”

You know what exactly “like that day” means.

It was a year ago, back when you and Joshua weren’t in a relationship. You were returning home from college after all of your classes ended when 3 boys from your economics class had stopped you. They wanted to ask you about assignments, which is what you assumed, but their intentions were far more sinister. In that abandoned staircase the students were restricted from, they touched you inappropriately, but luckily for you, Joshua came just in time.

To this day, you don’t know why Joshua used that staircase that day. He never offered an explanation and you never pressured the issue either, being lucky enough that he saved you that day.

“I’m sorry I made you feel suffocated.” Joshua’s soft whispers of apology brought you back from your thoughts. “No. I’m sorry for this.” You said, looking at him in the eyes to show him you were indeed sincere with your apology. “I should’ve known how much that day affected you too.” You confess, ending your apology by pressing a kiss on his lips.

His hand makes its way to the back of your neck, pushing you closer into a deeper kiss before pulling away, breathless.

“So then, can I come along later?” You chuckle at his question. “Of course you can, Shua.” He gives you the smile that even turns his eyes into little crescent moons before pulling you into his embrace.

Jeonghan was right.

“Just try guilt tripping her.” Jeonghan, Joshua’s trusted friend said. “But I don’t want to hurt her in any way.” Joshua replied, his heart sinking at just the thought of seeing you in any type of distress. “It’s either that or you let her go out without you by her side.”

“Okay, but are you sure it’ll work?” Joshua asked, uncertain of his friend's way in this matter. “Trust me.”

Guilt tripping you hurts him but it works so damn well.

[duckprintspress]

Fandom 101: Getting Started on Fanlore.org

Not long ago, we at Duck Prints Press decided that we’d like the Press to have a page on Fanlore. To accomplish that, Press contributor Shea Sullivan made an account and figured out the nuts and bolts on how to add pages to Fanlore. Turns out, it’s not very hard, and now in this guest blog post, Shea will teach y’all how to do it too!

Making Your First Fanlore Page!

Hello! I am an editor on Fanlore as of a few days ago. Before that, I’d worked with mediawiki (the open source platform Fanlore uses) for unrelated projects, so I had a general understanding of how things worked, but no idea how Fanlore preferred their pages to be formatted or organized or linked.

This is how I got started!

First: What is Fanlore and Why Should You Care?

Fanlore is a wiki specifically dedicated to the fandom experience. It’s not for canon info about a specific fandom; rather, it’s for information about how fans interact with media and each other. Fanlore is run by the OTW, the same organization that brings us our beloved AO3. This context helped me in understanding the focus of Fanlore. It’s about fandom: the ups, the downs, the trends, the drama…all the things that can get lost forever when sites disappear or there’s a purge. And that said…well, you may still not care. But if you do, read on!

Second: You Care. Now What?

(read more)

Get an account. Right now. It’s worth getting the account, because you won’t be able to create new pages for a few hours. So, get the account first, figure out what to do with it later.

Go to fanlore.org and click on “Create Account” in the upper right-hand corner:

Third: You Have the Power (Soon)!

Read up! No need to invent the wheel in this post – they’ve got some great resources for getting started already written on their webpage.

Fanlore Getting Started Page

General Help Pages on Fanlore

Four hours after you create your account, you can create pages! Congrats! There are a ton of help pages out there, but the questions I had initially were:

How do I make sure this page doesn’t exist already?

Search. Search for the page. Search for key phrases associated with the page. A page name is a fiddly thing, so search for significant phrases in a few different ways before you determine it doesn’t exist. Always make sure you check before you set out to create page!

How do I add this page?

If it’s not there, you’ll see it come up in red when you search. Type the page name you want to create in the search bar. Click “Search” to get all the results, and then click on that red link.

How do I format this page?

You now have an empty page. When I was getting started, my big question was: what should my page look like? Well, Fanlore has templates that can help with that! The templates are in a markup language, but do not fear! Copy and paste the template (everything in the blue box on the template page, typically starting with curly braces), make some updates, and click “Preview.” You can repeat those steps indefinitely until you get the hang of the markup. There’s also a ton of information on the Fanlore.org cheatsheet. (If you’re still confused, keep reading, there’s more specifics under the infobox section.)

Once you have the page created and published, you can edit it without the markup language if you prefer – there’s “Edit,” which gives you a non-code-based option, and an “Edit Source” button, which gives you the code-based option.

If your proposed page topic doesn’t have an official template created for that topic, you can look up similar pages and see how they’re structured.  If you’re not sure how they managed to make something look a certain way, click the “Edit Source” button and look at the code there to get a sense of what they did. Be sure to cancel out of the edit when you’re done so you don’t make unintentional changes to someone else’s page! Some pages are locked down (like the template pages) so you can’t make edits, but most “normal” pages will have those links at the top so you can dig in and see what’s there and how the people who wrote that page made it look the way it does.

How do I add an infobox?

Those infoboxes on the right of a lot of pages give a quick overview of important information. These are templates, and you can find a list of available infobox templates here.

The templates, when you click into them, have a heading and some info that you can fill in. You can’t remove items from the template without making a new template, which I don’t recommend trying when you’re getting started. Use the template, fill in the information, and mark “N/A” if you don’t have information to insert in a specific field. A sample template for an infobox looks like this, and you fill in information after each “equals” sign. You can add a list, and you can add links to these after the equals sign using the markup for internal and external links on the Cheatsheet.

{{FanProfile |name=  |alias(es)= |type= |fandoms= |communities= |other= |url= }}

If you’re still confused, let’s go to Astolat’s fan page and click “Edit Source” and see how the infobox looks behind the scenes:

See how everything that was in the original template is still there, there’s just a list of information after the equals sign?

And here’s how it looks formatted:

How do I categorize this page?

Categories are important because they help Fanlore’s back-end coding group pages together so people can find the page you’ve created and so the page is in the right place in the site map. If you can’t figure it out, though, don’t worry, there are people who will find it and take care of it!

If you have an infobox from a template, this is taken care of. 

If you didn’t use an infobox template, you can add a Category to index the page.

Finding a Category can be a little overwhelming. If you have an example page (another page that contains the same type of content as yours), you can scroll to the bottom of that page and see what Category has been assigned to it. You can add that Category to your page by editing the source and adding that category into your page at the bottom with 2 square brackets, like this: [[Category:YourCategory]]

Use “Preview” to make sure you set it up correctly before saving the page.

If you need to find a category and can’t find a good example page, I recommend going to the sitemap, finding what fits your article the best, and clicking into it. Categories are set up in hierarchies, so click through until you find the Category and Subcategory that fits best.

Add it at the very bottom of the page, and it should show up when you preview, at the very bottom of the page.

How do I add those nifty citation references[1]?

Review theFanlore page on citation formatting for details. The basics are:

Add a blank References heading at the bottom of the page.

Add tags and include the source information.

What is the difference between a citation and an external link? Good question! I don’t know for sure, but the way I’ve been using it, if I make a statement about a thing and I want to direct you to the “proof” (article, webpage, etc), I will use a citation. If there is a thing I’m linking to because it is relevant but not as proof of what I’m saying on the wiki, I will add it as an external link.

Fourth: Don’t Worry

You’ll find there are a lot of instances when you might not be sure what the “right” way is to do whatever it is you’re trying to do. Don’t let that stop you! Do a little research, do your best, and be okay with a learning curve.

The thing about wiki editing in general, and this includes Fanlore, is that it’s a community project, and everyone is doing their best. It’s worthwhile to think about trying to make your pages consistent with other pages where you can, because it will help people who are trying to find what you’re providing. So, poke around similar pages first and look for common trends in how they’re organized, and mimic that for your own page.

All that said, there is very little hierarchy in editors and few rules set in stone. It’s a community site put together by volunteers. You may find that you’ve labeled, referenced, cited, categorized, etc, a page incorrectly, or that you added a page that was already there under another name, or you may have put in a canon page when that’s really not what Fanlore is for. No problem! A page can be reverted to a previous version. It can be removed by a “Gardener” (higher-level editor), or edited by someone else who is more familiar with the inner wiki workings, or you can even tweak it yourself when you learn a better ways to code the page. 

There is always a path forward, so get in there and get started!

Happy creating, happy fandom, and welcome!

GO VISIT FANLORE NOW!