#i'm sorry i have not forgotten you!!!!!!! i'm just exhausted etc etc you know how it is

[streatfeild]

cuddle md

(reblog please. or tip me)

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 11

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: it's a new week

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your phone buzzes against your leg, ripping you back to reality. Your eyes widen and drift away from the stream of font. You sit up and mark the page with your finger as you reach for the jittering cell. 

You scramble to grab onto it and hesitate to hit the big green button. The screen doesn't look like usual, not that you get many calls. You tap the button and the image changes at once, Bucky startling you as he appears. 

"Hey, doll," he grins and winks at you, moving the camera to lean against something. "How's it going?" 

"Uhhhh," you drone, surprised. He can see you too. You know by the little reflection of yourself in the corner. "Hi. Fine." You put the book down with no mind to losing the page, "um, you?" 

"You busy, doll?" 

"Reading but... no." 

"Mm," he hums, "glad to see you enjoying your treats but... no pajamas?" 

He steps back and you get a view of him from waist up, the edge of a counter in the lower edge. You pout then give a sheepish smile, "sorry, I haven't... had a chance." 

"That's okay, doll, I just wanted a peek before I went to work," he undoes his shirt button by button and pulls it off, revealing his muscular torso. You gulp at the lines of his muscle along his stomach, "why don't you put them on now and give me a look." 

"Oh, uh..." you glance at the wall. It's late. You're pretty sure Roxie already left for work and your mom will probably be settling down. "Right, uh..." 

"Just want something to think of when I walk the floor," he purrs. 

"Sure, er," you nearly choke, "I'll just-- one sec." 

"I can wait, doll. I've been waiting, haven't I?" He purrs. 

You feel a pang of guilt. You place the phone down so the lens faces the ceiling and climb off the bed. He's given you a lot, too much honestly, and now you feel like you owe him. It isn't fair to take his kindness without anything in return. And he isn't asking much, is he? 

You dig in the bag, the crinkle loud as the only other noise is the subtle movement from his end. You fish out the soft pajamas and peer over, making certain the phone is still flat. You change far away from it, paranoid. 

You look down at yourself in the tank and shorts. Oh gosh. It's a lot less than you usually wear. Your legs are showing, your shoulders, and a bit of your tummy. 

"Doll?" He says and you flinch. 

"I don't know... I don't think it fits." 

"I'm sure it fits just nice," he insists, "show me." 

"Oh, uh..." 

"I'm just looking, doll, I'll only think of what I really wanna do," he snickers. 

You cross back to the bed and pick up the phone, careful to stay out of view. You turn back and prop it up on the dresser, overly aware of the unflattering angle as you do. You give a wide-eyed look and back up so you're all in frame.  

You hug yourself shyly and sway. 

"Let me see ya," he orders. 

You put your arms straight and notice how he leans in to look at the screen, smoothing his hair back. He keeps his hands over his dark strands and growls. A flutter starts in your stomach. 

"What do you mean too small? That fits your perfect," he says. 

"I... really?" 

"Sure, doll," he turns and you realise he's getting ready.  

He combs his hair stands straight. He grabs a new shirt and buttons it as he peeks again. You near the camera and move it so he can only see your face.  

"Damn, doll, I'm gonna be all over the place," he says, "you're so sweet and sexy." 

"Bucky," you squeak.  

"I don't lie. That's the one thing you should know about me. I will always let you know exactly what I want." 

You blush hotly and a tap on the door nearly makes you drop the phone. You hide it behind you and shuffle closer. You clear your throat. 

"Uh, yeah?" You call through. 

"Hey, honey, everything okay in there?" She asks. Shoot, she must have heard you. 

"I'm watching something," your heart hammers, "sorry, I'll turn it down."

"It's alright, honey. Just thought I heard you..."

"No, just a show," you wisp out.

You quickly back away and go as far from the door as you can. You look down at the phone as Bucky tucks in his shirt. Ugh, that was embarrassing. He heard all that; surely he must realise how lame you are. 

"Mom sounds real sweet," he says, "must be where you get it." 

"She's working tomorrow. Don't wanna keep her up," you explain quietly. 

"That's too bad, doll. I'll just have to keep waiting... wanting," he shrugs and pulls on a dark jacket, "what do ya think? Look good?" 

He poses for the camera. He looks great, as always. You feel smaller than ever. 

"Yes," you answer softly. 

"Yes? That's it?" He sounds disappointed. 

"Very handsome," you eke out. 

"Handsome?" He squints as he picks up the phone. 

"Er," you search your repertoire and borrow from his, "sexy?" 

"Are you asking or telling me?" He chuckles. 

You giggle. You don't think you've ever told anyone they are sexy. You've never been that bold. 

"Yes." 

"Yes?" He laughs. 

"You're, er, oh, sexy," you touch your hot cheek and look away. 

"You are adorable, doll," he growls, "that's exactly what I need to hear." He grazes his fingertips over his beard, "unfortunately I gotta get on it so... tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow," you confirm. 

"Don't worry about a thing, doll, just bring your gorgeous self." 

🃏

The next day is restless. It's worse having hours to wait around for... what? You don't know. 

You spend your time reading, or trying to. Breakfast is small, what your roiling stomach can handle, and you put on an outfit that you think is acceptable, not that you have much to choose from. It might be strange if your mom or Roxie notice the lack of uniform. You could say you change at work? 

Ugh, lie after lie. It's all so much.  

You don't get very far in the book and your phone buzzes, a reminder from Bucky that your fate is coming. You grab your purse and sit out on the stoop, the sunlight beaming down. It would be a nice say if you were so damn uptight. 

Merv pulls up in the sleek luxury car and you get up, checking over your shoulder to see if there's any curious tug on the curtain. Your mom's already at work but Roxie is puttering around somewhere. She could be sleeping or not. 

Merv gets out to greet you. He opens the door and you thank him. He sits in the driver's seat and Springsteen drones from the radio. You smile as he shifts into gear. 

"I know this one," you say. 

"Of course, a classic," he praises. "And how are you today, miss?" 

"Good, you, sir?" 

He laughs as he steers, "very good, miss. And how could I not be." He peeks at you in the rear view, "with sunshine in my backseat." 

You smile bashfully and cross your legs. You can't help the shake in your foot. You're more and more nervous with each second and turn of the wheel. 

As if noticing your unease, he turns up the music, "I like this one too." 

You sigh and ease into the drumbeat. The tempo keeps your heartbeat in check. You're thankful for his subtle comfort. 

You turn to watch through the tinted windows. You never noticed how scenic this city is. You never went many places to have the chance. 

He keeps the volume up and you let it carry you through the long journey across the city. He pulls up to the casino and steers around to the hotel entrance. You peer through then back at him in confusion. He turns the knob down. 

"Mr. Barnes says to give your name at the desk," Merv instructs, "have a good day." 

"Thanks, you too," you unbuckle the seat belt and sidle across to the door. 

You get out with reticence. Staring up at the grand facade, you're more unsure than you've ever been. You've come this far, you have to keep going. You really have no choice as Merv slowly rolls away.  

You step forward. It doesn't get easier the further you get. Your pulse hammers behind your ear as you enter the lobby and a flash of deja vu overcomes you. That night with Roxie, the morning after, and everything since. How does it all feel as if it happened so fast and yet so long ago? 

You go to the desk, feeling entirely out of place. What if Merv is wrong and you shouldn't be there? What if they just look at you and laugh? No choice, keep going. 

You stop on the other side of the desk and give a stiff smile. 

"Hello, welcome, checking in?" The modelesque concierge asks. She's stunning and you're all the more self-aware. 

"Uh, I think? My name is..." 

She keeps her pristine smile in place and her eyes lights up. She doesn't even bother typing into her computer. She flits away and returns with one of little folders with the room keys inside. Oh, this is really happening. 

You thank her and slowly back away. You make a slow advance towards the elevator and wait beside a couple with their suitcases. You step on with them, avoiding a glimpse through the transparent walls.  

You unfold the folio and read the number, pushing the floor number, then stand back on your heels. You keep your eyes on the door, the motion alone making you dizzy. 

The couple gets off before you. When it's your floor, you thankfully scramble off and take a deep breath. You once more check the number and follow the hallways to your assigned suite. 

You swipe the card several times, you still don't have the hang of it. The door opens and you enter meekly. You focus on every move. Shut the door, slip the card back in the folder, put it down on the corner table. 

You look up at last and let yourself marvel at the suite as you delve further in. The smell of pollen greets you with a large bouquet of roses. The suite is huge, even bigger than last time. Two rooms just the same and a full kitchenette and spacious bathroom. You don't go onto the balcony, not wanting to test your stomach. 

You go back inside and glance over the table draped in a red tablecloth beneath the crystal vase of flowers. There's also a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and various colours of macarons. You've never had the delicate cookies before but you'd watch countless recipe videos, wishing on day to try them yourself. 

There's an envelope too. You take it and run your nail along the sealed flap. You open it carefully and slip out the card within. 

'Enjoy yourself, doll. I'll join you shortly. B.' 

As if on cue, there's a knock on the door. Oh gosh, you're not ready. What does he mean? Join you? You hoped for a little long before... before... 

You stand frozen but when the door doesn't open itself, you go to answer it. You slowly twist the long handle and open it just a crack. You peer around the edge and blink in confusion. 

"Hello, dahling," the woman's affectation drags out her syllables, "well look at you, how precious." 

She presses on the door and you let her force her way in. You're dumbfounded. Who the heck is she? Another long-legged beauty you can't compare too. 

"Lovely hair," she remarks as she closes the door without a care, "oh, and your skin, yes, perfect canvas..." 

"Sorry, er, I think you have the wrong room--" 

"Mr. Barnes sent me, dahling," she trills in her way, "and I see you are very much in need of my visit so let's begin. Mm, yes, I have a vision," she struts forward, a rose gold chest in her hand, "not very much, you have a natural lustre I adore." 

You retreat as she advances on you. She lifts her chest onto the chaise and flips back the lid, revealing an assortment of precisely organized palettes and tubes. You're horrified and humiliated as you realise why she's there. Maybe you aren't as pretty as Bucky keeps telling you. 

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / AO3 Link

Authors Note: TW- forced sex, forced oral sex, slight violence, Ramsay things, abandonment, etc etc.

Chapter Three: Your Reward

You finished your bath alone. A servant came in to add wood to the fire, allowing you to have promised warmth for the night. The water grew cold as you soaked, hoping and praying to the Gods that the water would cleanse you of his touch. When the water was finally as cold as the air, you pulled yourself out and slumped in front of the fire, pulling your knees to your chest. You hadn't been given another nightgown. You wrapped a pelt around your shivering and damp body as you allowed yourself to air dry in front of the fire.

Once you dried, you padded naked to the door. You knocked aggressively. "Can I get some clothes?" You yelled. A man was on the other side, keeping watch of your door, and he hollered back to you in a gruff voice. "Lord Ramsay has not delivered any clothes for his prisoner." You huffed, slightly annoyed. You walked over to your bed and laid down, covering yourself with the blankets. It was nearly impossible to tell what time of day it was here, your tiny window only ever showed overcast snowy skies.

You closed your eyes, exhausted from the last 48 hours, and wanted to attempt to get some sleep while Ramsay was likely on a hunt or doing whatever it was that evil Lord's did during the day. You closed your eyes, and drifted to sleep.

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

You stirred, waking up. Your room was nearly pitch dark, the fire completely dead. The only light you could focus on was the lit candles on your small table. You jumped, realizing that Ramsay was sitting at the chair next to your table, staring at you as you woke up. He had a wine cup in front of him, no doubt full to the brim. He had no expression on his face as he stared at you. You closed your eyes again, hoping that he wasn't really there and you were imagining things.

"I brought you the clothes you asked for." Ramsay's voice echoed in your room, breaking the silence. You groaned, your body was aching. You opened your eyes to look at Ramsay. "Thank you...M'lord." You whispered as you sat up in bed, making sure the blankets stayed over your naked skin. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" He asked you. You gingerly rubbed your face, softly allowing your brain to turn on again. "No, Rams- My Lord. I don't know." He chuckled. "You slept all day and all night. You poor, tired thing." He suddenly stood up, the chair scooting loudly.

You believed him. You had been so exhausted, you could imagine yourself sleeping that long. "I'm sorry, My Lord, I was very tired." You watched him intently as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the foot of it. "It's quite alright. I forgive you." He smiled, his eyes strangely calm. You didn't understand his dynamic, one minute he was angry at you and the next, loving and soft. He leaned forward towards you, and whispered, "I missed you yesterday. I came by last night but I saw how deeply you were sleeping. I didn't want to..." his eyes rolled around their sockets, searching for the right words. "...disturb you."

You forced a gentle smile. "Well, thank you for that. I needed the rest. That was... very kind of you." Ramsay chuckled, placing his hand on top of your leg over the blankets. "Kindness is what I am known for, My Lady." You weren't sure what to do, so you just softly smiled at him. He stood up and walked to the window, staring outside. "You deserve a reward, you see." He began.

"Last night after I visited and then left, the servant who was in charge of locking the door seemed to have forgotten his duties. Your door went unlocked all night long as you slept!" He exclaimed. Your heart sank. You could've escaped. You mentally scolded yourself for not being more vigilant. "But! Don't you worry, I took care of him. He won't be guarding your door any longer... come and see!" He beckoned you with his hand. You slid off the bed, dragging the blankets on the floor behind you, still covering your body.

You reached the window and Ramsay draped his arm over your shoulders, pressing his cheek against yours. "Look, there." He pointed outside. Your eyes followed the imaginary line until you saw it. Hanging on a wooden platform, there was the bloody and fully exposed muscular system of what was once a man. You gasped and looked away, burying your face into Ramsay's shoulder. He chuckled. "Aww, you are so innocent. That was the man that failed to lock the door, you see? I could've done that to you when you tried to run away. But, I showed you mercy." He cooed into your ear, his free hand playing with your hair.

"Are you ready for your reward?" He asked, using his index finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. "Are you going to flay me?" You asked, lower lip trembling. Ramsay smiled empathetically and cradled your face with his hand. "No of course not. Your reward isn't being flayed, silly girl. Your reward is pleasure." You stiffened, unsure of what he was alluding to. "Go, lay on the bed." He pointed towards your bed. You reluctantly made your way and laid down, burrowing under the covers. Ramsay began unlacing his shirt as he approached you. You prepared yourself to be used once again by him, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, listening to Ramsay's leather fall to the floor along with his trousers and the clatter of his knives. You felt the weight on the bed as he climbed on top of you. You opened your eyes, expecting his face to be in front of you, but it wasn't. You saw him lifting the covers at the foot of the bed, and crawling head first in. "Let me please you." You heard him say under the blankets. Your body stiffened as you felt his shoulders between your ankles, and then up to your thighs.

He pushed your knees up, resting your thighs on his shoulders. You clamped your legs together, but Ramsay softly spread them. You felt your stomach churn, but this time, it wasn't with anxiety. You felt your core warm up as he began kissing your inner thighs softly, gently sucking as his lips grazed your skin. You held your breath as his hands traveled up, squeezing your breast softly, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. You whined, your body at war with itself. Ramsay was coaxing you gently with kisses, begging you to relax as he kissed as high as he could on your thighs.

You exhaled a moan as his lips met your wet cunt, kissing and sucking gently. He hummed with delight as he felt you were already wet for him. He gripped your thighs with his hands as he pulled your legs apart, allowing him full access to your most sensitive area. "Ramsay I-" You tried to say, but were cut off by your own gasping as he swirled his tongue around your clit. He was very good at this, which was making your body go into a pleasure induced swim even if you didn't want it to.

He continued to kiss your folds, his tongue snaking inside you as his nose pressed against you perfectly. You allowed your eyes to close as you sank deeper into his trance. You reached under the blankets and started swirling your fingers in his curls, gently gripping at his hair. He groaned as you did so, causing vibrations to gently tickle you as he licked. Your grip on his hair tightened as he licked faster and more passionately. "Doesn't that feel good?" He groaned, his lips grazing your clit. You moaned in response because unfortunately, it did.

You had never been eaten out before, but Ramsay definitely knew what he was doing. Your body was shivering under his touch, a flick of the tongue was enough to send a rolling wave of lust over you. You wanted him badly. You tugged at his hair and lifted the covers. "Ramsay, I want-" He reached up and covered your mouth with his hand. You whined into his hand as he silenced you, his other hand made its way down to your core.

"I know what you want." He whispered while pushing two of his fingers deep inside you. You lifted your hips, begging for more. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of you, the slow pace driving you crazy. Your hips began grinding on his fingers as he kept kissing your clit. You felt yourself climbing towards orgasm, and Ramsay could tell. He read it on your face. He pulled himself up, and his fingers slid out of you completely. Ramsay lie down next to you on the bed and he put one of his toned arms behind his head.

He grinned at you, his face slick with your arousal as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you down to his waist. You immediately took his hard cock in your mouth. "That's right, good girl." He groaned as you began allowing his cock to fill your throat. You bobbed your head slowly up and down on his length, you couldn't quite fit all of it in your throat without gagging. Ramsay seemed to enjoy the gagging, though. You felt his hands on the back of your head as he applied pressure, pushing your face down on his cock.

You groaned, gagging on him. He exhaled loudly as you gagged around him, your throat contracting on his twitching cock. "Ahh, that feels so good..." His voice was raspy and low. You wanted him inside you. At this moment, you didn't care that he had flayed a man earlier today just for fun. You didn't care that he would probably hurt you within the next hour. You didn't care that he was Ramsay Bolton.

You pushed yourself up, Ramsay staring at you wide eyed. You quickly straddled him, his cock soaking wet with your spit. He chuckled as he saw the desperation in your eyes. "You want me badly, don't you?" He reached out, squeezing your hips. You nodded, whining as you rocked back and forth on his lap, his cock nudging at your entrance. "Take me then. After all, this is your reward."

Ramsay kept kneading at your hips and thighs as you guided his cock inside you. Your body was sent into a euphoric state as he filled you, moaning loudly as your walls stretched to accommodate him. Ramsay was watching you intently as you filled with pleasure, his eyes wide and tracking your face as you slid up and down. Sweat began forming on his forehead and on you as well. Your legs were already so sore from everything you had been through and he noticed you struggling to keep a decent pace.

Ramsay smiled, flipping you over so he was on top. "I'll take care of you, you just enjoy your reward..." he began thrusting into you. Your eyes rolled back as you allowed him to fuck you at his own pace. You didn't realize how badly you wanted him until now. You dug your fingernails into his back as he thrusted, groaning while you dug them in deep. You felt the warmth of your orgasm approaching as he continued to keep the pace. You started to tip over the edge, spilling over and flooding with pleasure. Ramsay didn't slow as he fucked you through your orgasm.

You were panting, aching, and trembling as Ramsay pulled out of you and threw you to the floor by your hair. You slammed onto the ground hard and looked up at him, your body and mind spinning from being so full of pleasure to suddenly thrown on the floor. Ramsay stepped forward, his cock dripping from being inside you. He grabbed your hair and lifted you to your knees, forcing his cock into your mouth. You didn't have the strength or energy to fight back as he fucked your face.

You barely had caught your breath before his cock was in your throat and you were gagging on him again. He groaned words to you, but you were in such a haze that you didn't understand them. He let go of your hair and you fell to the floor, leaving his cock unattended. He growled angrily as he lifted you up and threw you on the bed face first. He slammed his hand down, smacking your ass cheek so hard you let out a shriek. "I said bend over!" He barked. You must've not heard him the first time, as you positioned yourself on the edge of the bed.

His hands grabbed your hips and he fucked you from behind, slamming your thighs into the side of the mattress. He kept smacking your ass, leaving you whining like a pathetic whore. You could tell Ramsay was close to finishing as he got more erratic with his thrusts. He flipped you over to your back, and he straddled your stomach. One of his hands immediately went around your throat while his other hand began stroking his cock which was twitching and ready to release.

He began choking you as he jerked himself off, he was completely sweaty and his face was very serious. You couldn't help but swoon at the sight in front of you. You almost felt lucky to see him like this. Suddenly, the hand choking you pulled back and landed swiftly across your cheek, sending a ringing through your ears. He smacked you across the face. You cried out and Ramsay came, his warm cum hitting you in the face where he slapped you and sliding down to pool in your neck. He held a fist full of your hair from the top of your head as he finished cumming.

His breathing was heavy as he stood up, leaving you on the bed covered in his seed. He smiled at you as he threw you a cloth off the floor. "Keep doing good things and I will reward you more often." He grinned as he pulled his clothes back on. You laid there, wiping his cum from your face and neck. "You do look lovely like this..." He chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Now, be a good girl and clean up this room. I'll be back for you tomorrow." Ramsay swiftly left the room without another word.

You finished wiping yourself off and sat in silence, allowing your body and mind to process what just happened. On one hand, you were humiliated and hated him for using 'your reward' as a chance to just get what he wanted... but on the other hand, you were pleased to be the lady who he used for his pleasure. You were confused and ashamed as you splashed the cold water from your last bath on your face, washing yourself up. You argued with yourself as part of you wished he would come back for more.

Chapter Four

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Eighteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.9k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | MASTERLIST | FINALE

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

IMPORTANT NOTE*: final warning to those on my taglist. if you do not interact with this post within 24 hours after not interacting with the hella fuckin' Rafe Cameron oneshots i posted last week, you will be removed. i do not like being strict but i am not asking for a lot. if you've been interacting then this message is not for you. but if you haven't been... i'm sorry. you will be removed.

            You didn’t stop running until it started to get dark. You headed south, like you & Bear planned, but wasn’t stupid enough to think you had pulled one over on Rafe. Micah was a damn good tracker, they would see that you took off in the opposite direction you led them in. You knew you couldn’t outrun them forever, especially with the physical pain you were in, but you would be damned if you didn’t try your hardest. You were convinced that if you could get far enough, that it’d be just out of reach of Rafe’s clutches & then you’d be free.

            More importantly, you hoped to run into Bear. The forest you were running through was never-ending though. For miles in either direction you’d only find more forestry. That worked in your favor though. The furthest away you were from civilization the better. Rafe would anticipate you looking for shelter. But you had a backpack full of survival goods. There was no tent or sleeping bag but you’d make do. You’d learn how to survive on your own in the woods, at least until you found Bear.

            By the time you stopped running, the sky above the trees was turning into a dark blue. The trees were growing denser with darkness. Traveling any further would be a risk but you couldn’t risk being found. However, you had to at least slow down. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t stop moving until you crossed the border into South Carolina, exhaustion be damned.

            But your body had other plans. Your back was aching, the wounds having opened up in your attack against Adrianna. Your feet were sore as well from running for so long. You could feel yourself growing weaker as you walked, your limbs carrying you slowly. Whether you wanted to or not, you’d have to stop & get some rest.

            You peered into the darkness until you found some thick foliage that would make do for some cover. You fell to your knees & crawled into the brush. You ignored your minor fears of snakes & spiders, as there were bigger, scarier things to fear now. You tucked your feet in so they wouldn’t be exposed & shoved your backpack into a small crevasse where you could lay your head. After you felt you would get as comfortable & as safe as possible, you kept your knife & gun right beside you.

            The sounds of the forest sung around you. Cicadas, a light breeze rustling the treetops, a nearby creek with trickling water. You allowed your eyes to flutter clothes as you laid on your stomach, desperate to fall asleep & perhaps wake to a better world.

            Something kicked your foot & you shot your eyes open. Having forgotten you were sleeping within foliage, your head became covered in leaves, sticks, & who knows what else. Another kick & you gasped. Peering through the leaves of where you hid, you could see someone standing outside your hiding spot, your ankle exposed for all to see.

            It was daytime. You scrambled to grab your gun & knife but they were nowhere near you.

            “Out.” A man’s voice sounded, “Hands first then the rest o’ya.”

            Gulping you strained to see as much as the stranger as you could but your hiding spot had done too good a job of shielding other from your point of view.

            “Out!” The voice yelled, “Or I start shooting.”

            “Okay!” You finally responded, “Okay, don’t shoot, I’m coming out.”

            Getting to your knees, & wincing at the stinging stiffness of your back, you pushed your hands through the foliage so the stranger could see them. You slowly crawled forward until you were completely out of the brush & on your knees before the stranger.

            Your eyes squinted at the change in brightness. You shielded your eyes from the sun so you could glance up at the man before you.

            He was gruff looking, like a nomad. His clothes were layered & blended well with the forest around you. He had a full beard that was thick with many gray hairs & a wool cap on his head. His brows were in a frown as he glared down at you warily. And it was only then that you noticed he was pointing a bow & arrow at you. You gulped, your eyes staring wide-eyed at the nomad’s weapon.

            “Whose blood is that?” He questioned, aiming his bow at your chest.

            You followed his line of sight. Your white top was caked in Adrianna’s blood, along with earthen residue from your sleepover in the foliage.

            You eyes met his again, fearful of what he would do to you.

            “I won’t ask again, young lady.”

            “It’s…” Your voice was hoarse & you frowned, clearing it, “Someone who was trying to kill me.”

            “Did they have good reason to?”

            That made you shake. What kind of question was that?

            “No.” You ultimately responded.

            “Why were they trying to kill you?”

            “Because…” You pressed your lips together in thought, sure that any answer you’d give would only prolong your inevitable death. “Because I was trying to escape.”

            The man eyed you from being his bow & arrow, “Where you escape from?”

            “A hell-hole.” You returned, shaking your head in disbelief.

            Running from Rafe was the best thing you could do for yourself, but you only ran into more trouble. Perhaps, into someone worse, though you didn’t think anyone could be worse than Rafe.

            A branch snapped from behind you & you whipped your head around, panic gripping your heart. But your heart slowed as you took in the appearance of a young woman, maybe high school age, appear from behind a tree.

            “Goddamnit!” The man hissed from behind you, “I told you to stay hidden until I got to the bottom of this.”

            Your eyes flickered between the two & you watched in curiosity as the young girl began signing to the man with her hands. She pointed at you, a frown on her face as she spoke without words.

            The man grunted & sighed, stealing your attention once more.

            “You hurt?” He questioned, gesturing to something behind you. But when you glanced back you were confused at what he was gesturing to you.

            “Your back.”

            “Oh.” You blindly reached towards your back but the man raised his bow higher.

            “Don’t!”

            “I—I don’t have anything on me, I swear. I did—a gun & knife—but I don’t know where they are.”

            “I have them.” He admitted, “Now, are you hurt?”

            “Yes.” You breathed out.

            The man’s eyes flicked to the young girl behind you, nodding.

            “My daughter.” He told you as you heard & felt the young girl approach, “She can take a look for you.”

            You nodded shakily.

            “But don’t think of trying anything. I’ll end your life in a second.”

            “I know.” You breathed out, “I won’t.”

            Glancing over your shoulder, you watched as the young girl approached slowly. Your eyes met & you could see the sadness there as she peered at you before getting close enough to touch. Then she kneeled down behind you & reached for the hem of your crop top.

            A hiss passed between your teeth as the fabric of your top peeled away from your back. The wounds Micah left having split open & caked blood stuck to your shirt.

            The young girl shuddered & covered her mouth, her eyes watering. Then she looked up at her father, signing yet again.

            You watched as the man understood what she told him.

            “Someone do that to you?” His eyes met yours once again.

            You gulped, “Lots of someone���s.”

            “You kill them?”

            “No.” Your voice shook, “Only one…but there’s more.”

            “They after you?”

            If you admitted that they were, the man & young girl would leave you, but if you lied & said they weren’t, you’d risk their lives.

            “Yes.”

            The man inhaled sharply, nodding at his daughter to move away.

            “You dangerous?”

            The question made you falter.

            No.

            But you had killed Adrianna. You were capable of taking another life.

            “I don’t know.” You admitted, “I’m just trying to survive.”

            You felt your eyes fluttering closed. He would either kill you or leave you defenseless. Neither was desirable. But you had no choice in the matter.

            A shuffle forced your eyes open & you watched in mild surprise as the man swung the bow onto his back. He stepped forward, offering his hand, “You can come with us. But only for today & tonight. Then you’re on your own. I got a daughter to protect & you look to be trouble.”

            “I understand.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, giving him your hand, “Thank you.”

            “C’mon then. Get your things. We got a bit of a hike to our campsite.”

            Their campsite was incredible. You had never seen anything like it before. It made you recall all those post-apocalyptic films that are set in the woods & you were truly living in one now.

            The man put his gear away along the cavern wall as his daughter led you to the edge of the small body of water.

            She signed at you & you watched as your hands & fingers attempted to speak to you. But you frowned, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

            “You need to take your shirt off. So she can clean your wounds.”

            You frowned at that. The young girl looked to her father then back to you, nodding.

            “I—” Your eyes fell to the man whose back was to you, “I don’t—”

            “Don’t worry.” The man grumbled, “I’m going back out to check the traps. You two can be alone.”

            With that, the man disappeared the way you all came & you breathed a sigh of relief. The young girl beside you chuckled lightly at that. Your eyes met hers & you smiled weakly.

            “Sorry. I just don’t trust people. Especially men.”

            She nodded at that before reaching for your shirt. You raised your arms so she could remove the bloodied & dirtied shirt from your body.

            The young girl worked on your back for some time. It was almost soothing, despite the pain. You had your toes slid into the water & your knees to your chest as she cleaned & disinfected your wounds before dressing them. Afterwards, you felt far better off than you had when Adrianna’s dressed them.

            When she finally stood up, gesturing for you to do the same, you smiled at her, “Thank you.”

            She signed back.

            But as you approached your backpack near the center of the campsite, it was only then that you realized you didn’t have any other clothes to wear. Rafe hadn’t packed that far ahead. You supposed you could wear your bloodied shirt again, but before you could manage to do that, the young girl appeared from within the tent, a pile of folded clothes in her hands.

            “For me?” You asked. She confirmed by handing them to you.

            “How do you say, ‘thank you’ in sign language?” You asked, accepting the pile of clothes.

            The young girl brought her hand to her chin, touching it, before moving it away & towards you.

            You mimicked the movement. She nodded.

            In the tent, you quickly got dressed, save for the thick jacket. Though it was beginning to become autumn outside, it was still much too warm during the day to wear it. But it would come in handy during the night.

            The man returned & he carried a wire string of fish hanging from his first, “Whose hungry?”

            It was shortly after sun fell when you sat by a dimly lit fire in the cavern. The man purposefully kept it low, informing you that the bigger the fire the stronger the smell. He gave you a few lessons in survival & taught you tips to aid you in outrunning Rafe.

            He was a doomsday prepper, telling you he had known this day would be coming for a long time. You had heard of people like him, but you were surprised to see him out in the world rather than in a bunker.

            “Unfortunately, I didn’t have the funds to build a bunker, but I sure tried.” He told you, his voice deep & rough as he watched the fire burn.

            “But we heard on a radio transmission about a commune up north. Survivors. Apparently, the virus hasn’t affected the area.”

            You recalled having heard something similar back at the military compound. It felt like ages ago that that ever happened. Back when all of your friends were alive & on the same team.

            “It’s probably bullshit.” You commented mindlessly.

            The man chuckled at that but nodded, “Probably. But I gotta think about my daughter. If she has a better chance of survival there then I gotta get her there.”

            His daughter was asleep in the tent at that point. The opening to the tent was zipped halfway, but you could make out her forehead just inside there.

            “Was she born deaf?” You questioned.

            The man grunted & shifted in his seat before nodding towards the tent, “She ain’t deaf.”

            What?

            Before you could ask further, the man continued.

            “But her mama was.” He revealed.

            “Oh.” You frowned at that, “Where’s she?”

            He sighed heavily, peering into the embers, “She dead.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            The man eyed you but nodded.

            “Was it the virus?”

            “No.” He shook his head, “Thank Christ. Cancer. She died a couple years ago.”

            Cancer, just another death sentence.

            “Ever since then…she hasn’t spoken.” He said, referring to his daughter, “Docs said it was a trauma response so I let it go thinking she would outgrow it but…she has yet to.”

            “She’s lucky to have you.” You told him. His eyes met yours.

            “Where are your folks?”

            You shrugged, not having thought about them in a long time, “Dead. Probably.”

            He grunted at that, “Sorry to hear it.”

            “I think what kills me the most about it is that my mom probably died alone. In her bed, in our big empty house. I have no clue where my dad was. He was a pilot, always traveling, always gone.”

            The man nodded along as you spoke.

            “I try not to think about it.” You admitted.

            “I understand that.”

            “Where are you two from?” You asked.

            The man took a swig from his water bottle before answering, “A little farm outside Chesterfield. You?”

            “Tampa.” You replied, “But I was going to school in Gainesville when the virus hit.”

            The man whistled knowingly, “That’s a long ways away. You traveled that far with your group, huh?”

            “Kind of.” You muttered, recalling all the events leading up to that moment, “Before everything fell apart, before sides were taken & trust was broken.”

            “This kid that’s after you… think he’ll give up?’

            You frowned. Rafe was never the kind to give up.

            “No.” Your voice was barely audible.

            The man sighed at that. Then he moved, reaching into a bag near his feet. You watched as he pulled out your gun & knife.

            “I was gonna wait to give these back to you till mornin’.” He admitted but then handed them to you, “But I trust you need them more for protection than to cause harm.”

            “Thank you.” You breathed out, accepting them back.

            “I’m sorry you can’t come with us.” He said but you shook your head in response, “Don’t be. It’s better off this way. I wouldn’t want him hurting either of you.”

            “You gonna keep heading south?”

            “Mmm.” You nodded, tucking your knife & gun away, “A friend of mine was supposed to come this way.”

            It was then that you discussed with him Bear. His appearance, his personality, his protectiveness over you. Unfortunately, the man had never seen him. So, he would be unable to tell you if you were heading in the right direction.

            Afterwards, the man stomped out the fire before cracking his back, “I oughta get some shut-eye now. I laid out a sleeping back in the corner there for ya.”

            “Thank you.”

            “S’no problem.” He grunted before making way towards the tent. He did not go inside but zipped it up before lying on the ground outside of it.

            You followed suit & crawled into the sleeping bag he laid out for you. Much like the night before, you listened to the sounds of your environment. The waterfall was like a lullaby as you eventually succumbed to sleep.

            Morning came & before you knew it you were facing the man & his daughter as you prepared to split off from them.

            “Remember what I taught you.” The man started as he eyed you.

            “I know.” You raised your feet to show the socks of your boots. He said it would help not only cover your tracks but also silence your steps. “Thank you for everything.”

            The young girl mustered a smile as she watched you.

            “If you change your mind, we’ll be heading towards Worcester. I left a map circled with where you can find our campsite near there if you want to follow inside your backpack.”

            You smiled at that, but you would not be able to follow them, not for as long as you knew Rafe was still out there.

            “Please be careful. Rafe, he’s…dangerous. He won’t hesitate to kill you, either of you.”

            It terrified you, imagining Rafe putting a bullet into the man & his young daughter’s skulls.

            The man grunted but nodded.

            “Oh, &, if you do see my friend, Bear, will you tell him I’ll be where he lost his last game of beer pong.”

            “Sorry?” The man asked.

            “He’ll know what you mean.”

            “If I see him, I’ll pass along your message.”

            “Thank you.” You voiced before eyeing the girl. You thanked her in sign language. She signed back.

            “Be safe, now.” The man said once more with finality.

            “You, too.”

153 days since the world ended

            It took nearly two weeks before you reached your destination. Thanks to the man & his daughter, you were well-equipped for the lengthy travel. You only had the one set of clothes that the young girl gave you but you stopped every three days to wash them thoroughly. They had also given you plenty of food & taught you how to trap fish on days when you needed to rest & eat.

            The first couple days you had been reasonably paranoid. Though the man & his daughter were a surreal break from the reality of being hunted down, you were back to being on alert all the time. However, as the days continued & you moved further south, you grew confident that Rafe was far in your rearview mirror. You decided to yourself that you would stay at the house for only a couple days, leaving a hidden note somewhere for Bear to find should he come looking for you, before you would move on. One thing you knew about being hunted was that you couldn’t stop moving.

            It was bittersweet seeing the city limit sign for Gainesville. You had stuck to the woods, wide fields, & abandoned roads in your two week trek back to your college town. You had contemplated moving towards Tampa, but Bear did not know where you lived with you family there. So, you would leave a note in his room telling him where to find you if he didn’t show up after a couple days.

            Gainesville had changed little in the five months you had been gone. It was clear the town was abandoned. Cars were covered in dust & rusting under the previous summer sun. Business establishments & homes were cleared out, doors hanging off their hinges & windows broken to reveal the havoc within. You did well to stay hidden as you walked the streets, pausing often to listen for any potential signs of life. But none ever came.

            It wasn’t long before you turned onto Greek row & approached the abandoned fraternity house. You stood on the sidewalk for some time, staring up at it. The last time you had been there was when you all returned from camping. Now, you were alone. The lawn was overgrown & there was a few broken windows, but otherwise, the house was in good condition. You approached hesitantly.

            Once on the porch, you pushed the door open & it creaked with your arrival. You stood outside for a moment longer & listened intently. It was peacefully quiet. You produced your gun from your waistband & entered the house. You did a thorough walk-through of the whole house, second floor & basement included, before you felt confident that there was no life.

            You returned to the main floor & locked the door, pushing a heavy piece of furniture in front of it. You knew it wasn’t the only entrance to the house but most people would try to come through the front door.

            In the kitchen, you glanced around. It looked as if time had stopped. Evidence of the ‘We Wear Pink on Wednesday’s’ end of school celebration party was still there. Red solo cups littered the floor & counter tops. Pink streamers hung wryly from doorframes. A plethora amount of liquor bottles were piled in the sink. You stood there for some time, remembering how not so long ago, you had been in that very kitchen watching your friends battle against one another in a game of beer pong as you & Rafe took shots on the sidelines.

            Rafe. The memory dulled your senses. Who knew this was the world ending would lead to?

            In the fridge, you were not surprised to find anything. The boys rarely had food anyway & what little you did find was rotten & moldy. You slammed the door shut before heading for the stairs. You walked down the lengthy corridor that houses many of the frat brother’s private rooms. On the wall was pictures of members, past & present. You paused when you spotted the face of your boyfriend smiling proudly in one.

            Your heart shattered as you looked at Sayyed’s friendly face. He was in the middle of Rafe & Bear, the three of them in good spirits at what looked to be a pep rally. You remembered that day well. But then your eyes cast over to the man on Sayyed’s left. Rafe. He was never a friend, no matter how much he looked like one in photos.

            Leaving the picture, you trailed the rest of the hallway until you reached a door near the end. Sayyed’s.

            Inhaling sharply, you steeled yourself & pushed the door open.

            It looked almost like how he left it. His drawers & clothes were scattered on the floor, his bed unmade. His closet doors were open & hangers stuck out from him having gathered clothes in a haste. You felt your muscles relax as you took in his room. You had spent many nights there, cuddling with him in bed as the two of you watched reruns of Spongebob. He was your home away from home.

            Walking around to the other side of his bed, you sat down, glancing at his nightstand. In a picture frame was a photo collage of his friends & family. Nuha was in a lot of them, looking glamourous as always. Behind that picture was another. You fingered it & picked it up.

            “Hey, you.” You whispered as your finger traced over his face.

            It was the two of you. Both smiling as you stood one of the many beaches in Tampa. That was taken the first time you brought him home to meet your parents. He spent half the summer with you. You grinned openly as you remembered him chasing you into the ocean as you two wrestled to throw the other under the small waves. Both of you looked so happy to be alive, to be there together.

            Your vision blurred as tears threatened to fall.

            How did it feel like all the time in the world had passed? How did it feel like he never existed? How had it only been five months yet it felt like five hundred years?

            You sniffled, bringing the picture frame to your chest as you lied down on your back. In the two weeks it took you two arrive there, your back had healed greatly. It was stiff often but the pain had disappeared over time. There were still a few scabs, & you could still feel the ridges of the wounds as they scarred over, but they were mostly gone for the most part. As for your fingers, they too had healed. Adrianna had set them before your escape & since you had little opportunity to really strain them, you were able to use them. Kind of. You didn’t push hard, relying on your left hand as much as you could, but you were relieved that your body was healing. All that was left to mend was your mind.

            It was dark when you opened your eyes. You groaned softly, not having meant to fall asleep in Sayyed’s bed. You pushed yourself up, the picture falling into your lap as you did. You eyed it once more before returning it to the nightstand. Your mouth was dry. You needed to drink water.

            Reprimanding yourself, you remembered then that you left your backpack downstairs in the kitchen. You knew better than to part with your survival goods. Leaving Sayyed’s room, you began walking down the hall when you stopped abruptly. The door to the room next to Sayyed’s was open. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered you, as you didn’t specifically note which doors in that hallway were open or closed, but it bothered you greatly because it was the door that led to Rafe’s old room.

            Staring at it, you felt your heart quicken. Could he be on the other side?

            But you shook your head. It had been over two weeks since you escaped Rafe. If he was still chasing after you, he wouldn’t have beaten you here. And even if he had…did he know you well-enough to think you’d come there? If anything, you’d’ve gone to your apartment with Millie. It’s why you ultimately chose the frat house. It wouldn’t be expected.

            Steeling yourself, you kicked in the door to Rafe’s room. It was dark & the only light came from the moon outside that cast it’s light through the sole window. You kept your hand on your gun, finger over the trigger, as you took a step inside. It was quiet, barren, lifeless.

            You breathed out a sigh of relief.

            Perhaps you’d leave sooner than later. Even if coming to frat house was unexpected, you still couldn’t put it past Rafe to check every single place he knew you knew about. Your plan to stay there for a couple days would be cut short. You’d get some water, go back to sleep, & in the morning you’d take what you could from the house, leave a note for Bear in his room, then leave. You had to keep moving.

            Back downstairs, you entered the kitchen, spotting your backpack on the table that was commonly used for beer pong. You began approaching it when you stopped again, though this time for a more terrifying reason.

            In the darkness, against the backdrop of the window on the other side of the table, was a silhouette.

            Your heart raced.

            No. It was your imagination. A trick of the light. Your paranoia.

            But then the silhouette moved, leaning forward against the table. And as it did, you finally caught the glint of something evil in the eyes that met your own.

            “You should’ve kept running, _____.” Rafe’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard as you reeled backwards. But you didn’t get far when you felt yourself crash against a solid figure.

            Spinning around you were horrified to find Micah standing behind you.

            Immediately, you yanked out your gun, prepared to fire blindly but Micah swung a closed fist towards your face & you fell to the ground, your gun skidding into the darkness.

            A shrill scream erupted from you as you desperately crawled backwards.

            “No!” You cried out—angry, scared.

            Your back met a wall of cabinets & you thrashed away from Micah’s outstretched hand as he attempted to catch your ankle. But your fight was quickly snuffed out as Micah dragged you back to the center of the kitchen. He straddled your hips with one hand on your sternum holding you down, & the other gathering a fistful of your hair at the back of your head.

            Rafe appeared above you then, the darkness only adding to their insidious intentions. He cocked his head, feigning a frown.

            “How?” You winced, glaring up at him.

            Rafe shook his head, “I know you better than you do.”

            Then you watched in horror as he glanced at Micah. Nodding.

            “No!” You screamed once more, but your scream died on your lips as Micah brought another fist to your face. And another. And another. Until you collapsed against the linoleum of the kitchen, blood seeping from your nose & mouth.

            Your vision swayed & blackened as you heard the mean speak above you, but their words were muffled & faded.

            Subconsciousness came for you & this time, you hoped it would swallow you whole.

after a brief break to complete the celebration requests, i am back with the second to last chapter of Rise! the next chapter will be the finale & trust me when i say...it'll be a doozy.

as always, please share your thoughts/feelings w me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. i love to hear it, especially with the end so close!

thank you for reading

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

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[topazadine]

Signs That You Will Probably Finish Your Writing Project

Anyone can finish a book if they work hard at it, even if it takes them longer than someone else. That's right: anyone. Anyone, anywhere, can write a book. Maybe it won't be the best book in the world, but it would be done!

But most don't. Many start a project and never do anything else with it. They then come up with a million excuses as to why they couldn't do it.

After speaking with dozens of writers over my lifetime, I've become able to predict with good accuracy whether someone will actually achieve a completed first draft. I am not always right, of course, because I am simply a human. But I am right most of the time.

There's no rocket science here, and I'm not a mindreader. It's just that there are certain habits conducive to finishing projects, and others that stymie your success.

I know that this will upset some people, and I'm sorry in advance. I'm not saying any of this to be mean, nor am I trying to discourage you. All these bad habits can be fixed, though it requires a mindset shift. You can achieve all of these powerful mindesets with some of the tips I provide.

Why should you listen to me? I have a pretty good track record of finishing things. I have 132 stories available on AO3, have published two parts of The Eirenic Verses, and am already revising the third manuscript before the second is even out. I've finished three of the other manuscripts in the 10-part series already in addition to the aforementioned third part.

It is the mindset I mention here that helps me stay so productive. This is not exhaustive. There are probably plenty of things that go into a great writing mindset that I have completely forgotten about. And maybe you'll beat the odds and have one of these issues but still get it done! And that's great, and I'm happy for you.

But nevertheless, let's get into it.

You have healthy self-esteem (or are working on building it)

I'm dead serious here. Having a healthy self-esteem is crucial to being a great writer. Here's a few reasons why:

You believe your work is good enough as it is, but that it can always be better. You think you have something important to say and that other people will enjoy it. You are not shooting yourself in the foot by bemoaning how terrible your writing is, making no one want to read it. You self-soothe when things get frustrating (writer's block, plot not working out, etc) and encourage yourself out of that hole rather than needing others to comfort you. You believe you have the skills to solve problems in your text and remain proactive in fixing things. You don't get absolutely obliterated by critique because you recognize that it's not a personal attack, so you improve by taking good advice. You don't think that rejection of your writing is rejection of you as a person. Your happiness doesn't hinge upon success as a writer, which may not happen no matter how good you are. You're willing to take risks, to talk to people about your work, and to market yourself because you understand that you won't get success without a bit of exposure.

What are some signs of low self-esteem for writers?

Not wanting to show anyone their writing yet also talking about it constantly hoping that others will want to read it

Talking about how bad their writing is

Getting jealous of other peoples' success

Being hypercritical of other writers

Talking more about their failures than their successes

Dismissing any praise as disingenuous

Needing constant reassurance at every part of the writing cycle

Being a perfectionist, especially during the active writing phase

Constantly revising to the point where they don't get anything done

Obsessing over perceived imperfections in their work

Avoiding getting feedback after they have completed a draft

Just as with everything else in life, your mindset plays a huge role in your success as a writer. Having healthy self-esteem (not an overinflated ego) will serve you much better than being overly critical of yourself or others.

Knowing you have the skills and talents necessary to tackle your project (because you do) will help motivate you when things get tough and keep you from giving up at the first sign of trouble.

Look, I had a shit childhood and a rocky start to adulthood. But I've managed to scrabble up some good self-esteem juice, and I am sure you can too. It takes time, and it looks different for everyone, so I'm not going to tell you how to do it because I don't know you personally.

However, fixing your mindset and believing in yourself does wonders for your writing - more than any expensive course, more than a personal editor, more than any of that. Trust your own process, and you'll reap wonderful results.

You think of yourself as a writer first, not an aspiring author.

Though my profile says I'm the author of The Eirenic Verses, that's not how I introduce myself. When people ask me what I do, I say I'm a writer. Because it's true: I write business stuff for work, and I write fiction for self-fulfillment.

When I was still working on the first book in the series, I did not call myself an aspiring author. I said I was writing a book. I've never called myself an aspiring author once in my entire life, and I'm glad for that.

Why is this important?

"Author" is a status, but "writer" is an activity. Anyone can publish one singular book and be an author, but only people who write regularly can call themselves writers.

"Aspiring author" is a dead-end title. It means you want something but haven't achieved it. Then you become an "author" and ... what? That doesn't mean you're going to keep writing. It just means you did one thing, once.

For sustainable mindsets, we need to remind ourselves that if we want to be something, we have to do something.

No one calls themselves an "aspiring scientist." They call themselves a scientist in training because they are learning how to be a scientist. That's an active title. It implies you are doing something.

So, if you want to keep doing, call yourself a writer. It reminds you, every single time that you tell someone, that you need to write. You'll feel guilty if you call yourself a writer and then haven't written anything in five months, and it will compel you to keep going.

You don't worry about what happens after finishing.

Fussing about what will happen after you finish is the best way to burn yourself out. The writing phase is about writing, not about revising or publishing or marketing or whether anyone will ever want to read it.

Focus on one thing at a time. Think only about the writing when you are writing. Everything else comes at a later date.

You do not announce WIPs when you start them.

There's this author I follow over on Twitter whose name I will not share. It seems like every other week, she's announcing a new WIP with a pretty moodboard and a name and characters and so on.

She has little emojis and "code names" for each of her WIPs, and she'll "drop hints" about all of them every once in a while, all mysterious and Taylor Swift-esque.

Has she published anything? Nope. Nothing. Nada. A whole lot of talk and not a lot of action.

Why are you announcing something you haven't even done? Why are you telling us about a project that you personally haven't devoted much attention to? Why should we care about something that you haven't cared enough to work on yet?

I have a list of my WIPs for The Eirenic Verses because they are all in the same world and all have to exist for the next part to make sense. I don't have a choice to drop them if I want to finish the series. I didn't create that WIP list until I had already decided on each of the parts and had already published the first book, so now if I want to keep people reading, I have to commit to them.

But if you have dozens of different unrelated WIPs, who is to say that you'll finish all of them? You probably won't.

Announcing a WIP before you have done the work is cheating; you're getting a little dopamine hit of everyone telling you how excited they are rather than a dopamine hit of achievement for doing the thing.

You do not talk excessively about your projects.

The more you talk about your work, the less you get done because you are tricking your brain into thinking that you are actually getting things done.

Again, you get the dopamine hit of people saying "ohhh that's so cool I love it!!" and then you are happy that people liked your idea, and then you don't do the idea because you don't need to. You already got the result you wanted, which was people telling you they liked it.

Great authors don't tell anyone about their projects except in the most general, vague sense before they are well underway, because they don't want to jinx themselves. If you're already staying mum about your work, then you're doing great.

And yes, your constant updates of "here is exactly how much I wrote today" every single day does count as talking about your project.

You are okay with going it alone.

The Active Writing process is the loneliest part of writing. No one is looking over your shoulder and encouraging you. It is only after you get to Percolation and Revision that you start to share your work with others, get feedback, and find ways to improve what you already have.

If you need someone to constantly build up your confidence and tell you that you're wonderful and that you should keep going, then you are not likely to finish because you are constantly talking about your work instead of doing it.

Writers need to be comfortable with solitude, but they also need to be willing to network, get feedback, and listen to other perspectives. It is a balance and it all depends on where you are in the specific stages of this given project.

When I'm working on a project, I tend to just avoid other writers entirely and stick to my other activity groups so that I'm still getting social stimulation but don't feel encouraged to share details of my work.

Those other friend groups do not really care about the ins and outs of writing, and that's perfectly fine; they don't need to. If they're willing to show up and cheer me on when I actually finish the project, great! That's all I need.

Constantly needing to check in with other people and having them rubber-stamp your writing is a sign of a lack of confidence, and it's something you need to work on it if you want to finish anything.

Be okay with going it alone. Be okay with waiting for feedback. Trust in yourself and your writing.

You have a process.

Your process doesn't have to look like mine to be successful. I've shared my process so that those without a process yet can get some inspiration for how to organize themselves, but there's no rule that you have to do it like me.

I will say that my process has achieved great results, but I'm not omniscient; maybe there's an even better way of working that I don't know about yet.

Every writer goes about things a different way, and that's totally fine. What matters is that they are getting things done in a manner that they like and that is working well for them. Even if their approach would make me want to tear my own skin off, I cannot and will not judge. They've got their thing, and that's perfect.

You need to have something that guides you so that you can replicate your successes. Scattershot approaches get scattershot results.

Contrary to how it may seem, I am not actually a very organized person. I work on both Google Docs AND Word for different parts of the process because I like doing it that way, but it would probably drive someone else insane if they like to use things like Ellipsus or Scrivener.

But it works for me, and if it ain't broke, I'm not going to fix it. If what you has is doing well, then keep at it. If it's not working for you, then you have many options to better organize and systematize your work.

You worldbuild as you go along.

This is specifically for fantasy and scifi, two of the genres where I see people crash and burn the most.

That's because they set everything up to perfection before actually doing anything and then just ... don't do the thing. Or do the thing in fits and starts because they spent so much time and energy worldbuilding that they don't have any creative juice for actually writing anything.

If you have like one chapter done but you have a full bible-sized guide to your lore, you've gone about things in the wrong order. Now your project becomes about fitting all of that in somewhere instead of writing an entertaining story, and you're far more likely to fall into the Infodumping Trap. You're making things too complicated.

In my guide to worldbuilding, you'll notice that the things I encourage people to emphasize are little things that don't have anything to do with the plot. One cannot build a plot around a cultural dish.

And I emphasized those things on purpose, because those are things that aren't going to overtake your story and become a substitute for actually creating something people want to read.

When I started writing The Eirenic Verses, I had a pretty simple premise: there's one country that has poetry magic and one that doesn't, and there's a giant mountain range between them and the girls are fightinggg.

That's about it for what I had at the jump. All the other things - lore, mythology, religion, international politics, festivals, cultural consciousness, economy, clothing, etc - all came later, as I was writing.

I didn't set out knowing what festivals the Bremish had or how the royal family works in Sina or what the towns looked like or exactly how High Poetry works or any of that. I discovered all of that during the writing process and noted it down so I wouldn't contradict myself.

By focusing only on the "what if" at the start, then infusing the rest as you go along, you will avoid the sin of infodumping because you don't know what to infodump. Things will just come to you as they make sense, and you will include them as relevant. You don't have anything to infodump on the reader.

You remember that you can always revise.

And lastly, great writers worry about getting the draft done. They don't fret over every word because they know that they can get it looking flawless LATER. They just want that rough draft, and then they seek specific feedback on how to improve that draft.

My third book, Funeral of Hopes, is extraordinarily short right now. after finishing the first draft, I then sent it to a great beta, who offered me suggestions for how to lengthen it, and I'm now fitting those new puzzle pieces together.

I knew as soon as I was done that I needed more, but I wanted to let it sit for a bit and get some suggestions for how to do that. If I had spent ages trying to lengthen it the first go-round, I probably would have gotten frustrated and given up. It's okay to just have the bare bones of the story and then seek out feedback; there's something there to scaffold off.

If you'd like to read more of my work, consider buying my book!

9 Years Yearning is a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. It follows Uileac Korviridi, a young soldier training at the War Academy. His primary motivations are honoring the memory of his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and becoming a top-notch soldier.

However, there's a problem: Orrinir Relickim, a rough and tough fellow pupil who just can't seem to leave Uileac alone.

The book features poetry, descriptions of a beautiful country inspired by Mongolia, and a whole lot of tsundere vibes.

You can also check it out on Goodreads for a list of expanded distribution.

Be sure to preorder Pride Before a Fall, arriving January 1, 2025!

If you do purchase my book, don't forget to leave a review!

Reviews are vital for visibility on Amazon and help to support indie authors like me. Whenever you love a book, be sure to let the author know! It's much appreciated.

I've also created a masterlist of writing resources that you can peruse at your leisure, all for free.

Enjoy!

[meiieiri]

Hi! Another person here asking about Water's Edge (sorry). This is kind of an insight into your writing and your life, so if you don't feel comfortable with that or just don't wanna share, feel free to ignore this!

You're thinking of discontinuing the series because of lack in interaction, right? I can't think of a smooth way to transition into my question, so I'll just put it bluntly:

Is writing Water's Edge (specifically) something that you're doing for interactions or something you're doing for fun?

That question alone should determine whether or not you should discontinue the series.

If you're doing this purely for interactions, I'd say that I can't really help you. It's up to you if your writing is purely based on interactions.

If it's for fun, then consider how much fun you're having while doing this. Are you having fun writing it? Does it feel more like a chore than something you'd like to do? If it feels like a burden, then stop. Discontinue the series. If it feels like a burden because of interactions, try and disregard interactions and focus on writing. Never let views, interactions, likes, shares, comments, etc– determine the worth or fun of your writing. Ever. You may already know that, but it's just a reminder. If you really liked where the series was headed, then I'd say finish that chapter and see how things go. If you're happy with it and proud of what you did, then I'd say consider continuing it. If you feel like either a huge burden was lifted after finishing it or just genuinely exhausted, try taking a break or just discontinuing it completely. Personally, I was a really consistent poster once. It got boring and exhausting trying to think of new ideas. I'm now only posting once every 2 months, maybe? I feel much better.

Take my advice if you want, but you don't need to be completely swayed by my opinions or personal thoughts. Just take it into consideration. I personally really like Water's Edge. The storyline is interesting and the formatting is unique. I'd love to see more of it, but it'd be awful if you decided to put your work before yourself. If you do discontinue it, please take care of yourself.

Note: Maybe writing shorter chapters will make it less of a chore? The first two chapters were really long. Idk I'm not a writer. Just an idea.

Sorry this was really long. I hope you have a good day 💕 Sorry if something doesn't make sense or if there's grammar mistakes! I'm writing this on my phone :,)

I actually really liked reading this, damn.

And to answer your question, no, I’m not writing purely out of interactions, in fact, I first started writing this series because I really had a good idea on the top of my head, I just think that, with all my exhaustion writing these longass chapters, it’ll be great to see people actually picking it up and showing appreciation or even hate, lmao. Just something to be recognized would have gone a long way but — that’s something the old me would say. I was re-reading the last few chapters and I feel really bad of having to leave it on the table, completely forgotten, because this fic — writing this fic rather – is the closest thing I have to an actual baby :’3

But you’re right, I did a lot of thinking and I’m guessing we’re back on, this is something I’ll see through to the end. However bitter it may be.

Thanks for this, I needed that.

[faeriekit]

Hey faeriekit! I love seeing your library posts because I'm actually attempting to get a degree in Library Media. It was a long forgotten childhood dream of being a librarian and while I put it down for a while it feels like coming full circle. Any advice or know how you feel like giving for someone who has no idea what she's potentially getting herself into? Thanks!

Hi, sorry it took me so long to respond; my brain exploded. Which. Wasn't very conducive to answering questions.

Okay, my concentration/specialty was always going to be public librarianship, so the closest intersection I've had with other specialties were Archival and Academic and Teaching concentrations. You're looking at what seems to be a media concentration...? Far out. Whatever you want to do in regards to media preservation and librarianship, just make sure that whatever programs you're applying to, you pick a school with a concentration/specialty that moves the needle closer to that goal. This database of ALA accredited programs lets you search by concentration as well as style of course, location, etc. If you're outside the US, uh...not sure how to help you navigate that, unfortunately. 😅 You'll likely follow a similar process depending on the needs of your career wherever you intended to work in the future.

Secondly, don't forget, this is a grad school application; you'll have to round up your recommendation letters, testing scores, transcripts, and all that other horrible paperwork that proved that you have a bachelor's degree and didn't flake out the whole while. It will be annoying. You will spend a lot of time looking at application pages on the schools' website. Ugh, it made me so exhausted lol. You'll also have to remember that this is something you'll have to pay for; my degree cost me maybe... $4000-$6000 a month when I went full time for four semesters. That adds up! Are you going for a loan? Paying out of pocket? Only going part time? It all changes how you plan to approach library school!

(I went online and full time, even when I was working full time. It did save me $$ and time but I was also so stressed I wrote Blister pack nonstop, so. Maybe not smart for long term mental health reasons.)

Have you been in a library lately? Done work there recently? If I were you, I would add a couple of volunteering hours at the local library to your schedule if possible; being around people who understand the material inside and out and having them available for questions makes a big difference long-term. I have never seen anyone struggle more in library school than people who had never done any kind of work in a library. There is lingo that isn't as natural to them, concepts they don't immediately grasp...seeing it in person helps put everything into perspective. A couple hours here and there helps; if not, I would do your HW at a library instead, and make it clear to the staff what you're up to so that they recognize you! This really helps when you have to do stuff like interview assignments or eventual job search advice!

I want to say "go online and asynchronous; it's cheaper and easier on your schedule". And this is true. But everyone I know seems to think that in person or synchronous courses help keep them focused and grounded in what's going on and able to keep up with the curriculum better...and then I see the suffering immensely from the burdens of synchronized courses on their schedule, which proves my point, so...that was advice my boss gave me way back when, and it served me well.

Even if you don't immediately join your state library association (again, if you are in the US), try to get on their mailing list. Usually they have their own job board, resources, newsletters, etc.

I will say, the job market right now is whack and library jobs are usually pretty scarce in general. There's always competition, it's hard to get paid anything remotely close to a living wage, and every ten minutes there's news about how librarians are actually evil for leaving books on the shelves that Moms of Liberty hate, or whatever they're on about. Also [Current US Gov Status: BAD] at the moment, which may impact future budgets, which, again, will lead to a decrease in available jobs. I would keep whatever job you're currently in tucked neatly into your back pocket, because who knows what the future holds.

That being said, I've had my best career moments and amazing coworkers all at the library; I love what libraries stand for, I love what we do, and I love how we do it. I love the people I meet, and I love the programs we get to put on. I love my job. Working at a library is worth a whole lot; the hard part is just, you know...getting there.

(And I had a very easy way in compared to other people; online schooling in early 2021 was very easy to get into.)

Ummm...library good. I hope you're happy with your plans. Just. Uh. Plan for a lot of time to spend applying to a lot of places. If you have any more specific questions, let me know! I will probably be here. Unless. IDK. Something else very big and legal blows up I suppose.

[thepointingghost]

:O your character analyses are brilliant hello hi I hope you don't mind if I add on to them a bit because :OOO

like first of all re: the books being limited as kids books, 100% agree. maaan what could have been. Just one thing I'd've loved to see is the government side of the COLA project: David Chambers suddenly being tasked to help another weird case. Oh btw there's 100 of them now. good luck. I want to see the fear inside the meetings - calling them limitless, worried about what happens next term, etc. I 100% agree with you that they're actually quite dark. There's a horror story in there that I need right now pls.

Ok onto character thoughts now

I love how you've described Lisa's coping mechanisms - she's so resilient out of necessity,,, thinking about in Book 5 when Mia is isolated and made to feel worthless and how much it hurt her. For Lisa to have gone through that so early.,,,, damn. she absolutely deserves a gun (but only if her victims don't haunt her)

(also sidenote imagine if Patrick Wood came back with messages for her.)

I never really "got" the whole Mia/Lisa dynamic (I am pitifully oblivious) and now rereading my heart aches </3 We see in The Burning Beach how Mia senses malaise and pain in the air and to then share a room with someone who is constantly surrounded by ghosts, exhausted and overwhelmed, too scared to reach out for support she desperately needs. Of course she wants to help! Especially when Mia is too selfless at the start! (if you have more thoughts on those two please let me know because I know I'm missing a huge part of the dynamic here. alas)

Her story ends so perfectly imo: slowly realising her 'life-giving, life-taking' duality, then finally when she unleashes (pun intended) she hurts her friends in the process. It's genuinely tragic. I really respect Ali Sparkes for that decision though; sometimes things don't work out!!! Sometimes you go too far and the people you love no longer recognise you!! And it hurts and it's messy but it's for the best..

what I love so much about these books is how human the characters are. of course Mia would get tired of being infantilised/parentified by her friends. of course Lisa leans into her femininity to keep her grounded - whilst also diverging from the wifty-wafty/bratty stereotypes etc. those two </3

the women in these books are just incredible though. Alice is criminally underrated!!!! thank you for mentioning her!!!!! I never actually thought about how badly Gina smothered her daughter, but yeah you're exactly right. Re: barbie are you assuming she wouldn't be starring in it? rude. /j

onto catherine. that girl. I think there's (some) space to analyse her as a victim of the Quorat. She was sent by accident. Nobody loves her. Doomed from the start and of course she's going to make mistakes and hurt people - it's the nature of parasitism. In that sense, she's a great juxtaposition to Mia, who had popularity through the Effect and a power that seems perfectly altruistic. Me-Too-Cathy stoops so low just to try to get an inch of that - over and over, across three countries - but still she's a killer and a torturer and unable to escape her actions. (also sidenote, in F&F when they're describing the danger categories a,b,c, notice how her powers aren't even mentioned. even her legacy is forgotten and man.)

ok this is almost longer than your original post sorry one last person: gideon. this guy!!!! Ironically he's the twin that got Third Wheeled by the end of everything, neither the killer or the kidnapped. He had to go through so many cycles of "we're so back / it's over" only to almost die once again at the Lodge... he's pushed aside and used so many times. He's definitely going to get a girlfriend and realise Some Things about himself. he needs a bf fr. I feel like his arc wasn't explored enough.

ok that was more than expected sorry! I really like the way you describe the interpersonal dynamics, they have such a big impact in these books and I've completely ignored it oops. also gonna have to watch x-men now fr fr

Hello! Your pinned post mentions The Shapeshifter books so 🫵 hi

Tell me about them. Who's your favourite character? What do you like about them?

(feel free to redeem this ask as a way to infodump if you want. license to yap)

omg hi hi!! i love you so much for asking this and im sorry for turning this ask into an infodump. definite spoilers for the shapeshifter below.

ok so my favourite character is lisa probably bc shes iconic and her instincts when something goes wrong is just to attack. either verbally or physically. also her backstory is so sad??? like she predicts someones about to die but she doesnt know thats what her visions mean (bc her visions are very cryptic and she was like 10 at the time) so she only realised when the girl died and then blamed herself?? like what??? these books are so dark for a kids series. i think she deserved a gun and also to say fuck. i really love her relationship with dax also theyre just so cute. like she'll by fully attacking someone and he's like :). isnt she so pretty :). theyre a bi4bi power couple i just know it.

also she fully had a doomed wlw situationship with mia and i fear we dont talk about it enough. mia was fully in love with her both before and after she went evil. like they very much gave cherik for a hot moment there. actually now that i'm thinking about it shapeshifters is very x men coded. so yeah im never getting over lisa and mia but i do love her and dax so im not mad.

MIA OH MY GOD. I LOVE MIA SO MUCH. never before has someone so deserved their villain arc. she's like morgana. i LOVED the subversion of her being the sweet healer-y type and then going batshit insane with her healer powers. like kinda using them for...nefarious purposes shall we say. she's still very sweet she's just very cunty and evil now.

i also love alice especially in the last book bc. shes just a kid. her mother's shit. stepmom neglected dax and smothered alice while never actuallly listening to her wants and needs. and their fathers never there. i wish we had gotten to see alice and dax bond more over their shitty parents. they could have been the best sibling duo. also shes badass and she would have loved wearing pink to see barbie (2023).

gideon for me is one of those characters who is so into women it just wraps around into him being gay. he's like lance mcclain to me. he deserved a boyfriend. also i think he's bi (i think everyone's bi. i don't think there's a single straight character in these books. minus mr grey). i love gideon he's so mecore. he's also traumatised!!! and he has a twin brother and an evil twin sister who's thirteen and ripped out her brother's tongue.

on the subject of gid's evil twin sister she is SUCH an interesting character to me. like obviously i hate catherine but she's so fascinating. her power means she can never stay with someone for too long or she'll end up killing them. she never has her own likes or hobbies or talents- she borrows someone elses because she feels herself isnt good enough. she crucified a man. she's killed three adoptive mothers. sort of on purpose. she just wants to be loved. she drowned an entire school with a massive tidal wave after leeching their powers. she was killed with fire. she was french for a while. she's perpetually thirteen years old.

i love the series as a whole but i think it had so much potential to be more. it was already pretty dark (windmill scene. need i say more) but it was technically a teen fantasy series, and i feel if they committed to a YA age rating and went all out with the horror and the very clear 'fuck the government' theme that was present throughout the whole series it could have been amazing. i have so many ideas for these books and what they could have done (note i love the books so much as they are but god. what we could have had if they weren't technically kids books).

also just realised i forgot to talk abt owen!!! gay father figure of our hearts. he accidentally adopts a bunch of motherless children and then he commits to it for the rest of his life. he canonically faked his death to live in a cave in spain with his superpowered male best friend. he's killed quite a few people.

this is the end of the Yap. in conclusion none of these characters are either normal or know how to function in society. i love these books. theyre like xmen and harry potter combined. but no jk rowling so win

[leviathans-watching]

hello! i hope you're doing well!! could i ask for some h/cs for the brothers and diavolo? a bit angsty but with a happy ending (because my heart can't take pure angst) maybe along the lines of them having been busy and unconciously neglecting mc? like cancelling dates etc. and mc's really getting bummed out but doesn't know how to broach the subject? cause they know independence is important and you can't be together constantly but it's been too much lately? i hope this makes sense to you and thank you very much!! have a nice day <3<3

lucifer, diavolo, and mammon being busy

includes: lucifer x gn!reader, diaovlo x gn!reader, mammon x gn!reader (they/them pronouns used)

wc: 1.6k | rated t | m.list

warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, explicit language, worries about being clingy/pushy/annoying

a/n: hi!! I'm doing alright, thanks for asking! thanks for requesting and I hope you don't mind that I narrowed it down to three characters (it was spiraling out of control so i had to). if anyone wants to see any more character for this lmk. my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, to req, so come say hello!

pls reblog <3

LUCIFER:

checking the clock for the nth time, you sighed, finally accepting lucifer had blown you off. again.

he’d been busy lately, what with all of his work on the school council, exchange program, and extra stuff he’d picked up for diavolo, and while you understand, it was starting to really bother you.

you hadn’t been able to spend any time together at all and you didn’t want to talk to him about it. what if you came off as overbearing or clingy? the last thing you wanted was to be one of those partners, so you were just biting your tongue, even if it was growing more and more difficult.

you had scheduled a dinner for the two of you, put it on his calendar and all. he still missed it. and on top of that, it wasn’t like it was a restaurant or anything- you had spent time making his favorite dishes, carefully arranging them on the table.

the sight of all of the food just made your mood worse. not hungry anymore, you packed it all up into tupperwares, siding them into the fridge. maybe you should just go to bed.

lucifer stepped through the doors to the louse of lamentation, unwinding his scarf from around his neck. he was absolutely exhausted.

“hey,” beel greeted, head poking around the corner. “can i have some of the food in the fridge? mc said it was for you, but if there were leftovers i could ask you.”

food?

“what food?” lucifer asked, following beel to the kitchen.

“the stuff mc made,” beel said, gesturing to a handful of containers. “they said they were making it for you. something about a special dinner.”

heart sinking, lucifer opened one of the tupperwares. it was one of his favorite side dishes, perfectly prepared. he remembered now- you wanted to eat dinner with him, had even sent him a calendar invite, and he had forgotten.

not giving beel an answer, lucifer set out to look for you. this wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been able to make it to something you set up, and while you’d been great about his busy schedule, he could tell it was grating on your nerves.

gently knocking on your door, he pushed it open, able to see you sitting up in bed.

“lucifer?” you asked, and lucifer stepped forward.

“yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “i’m sorry i forgot dinner. you put so much work into it and i…”

“it’s fine.” shrugging uncomfortably, you rubbed your eyes. “i know you’ve got stuff going on.”

“that doesn’t mean you should get pushed back for it,” lucifer insisted, sitting down on the foot o the bed. “i’ve not been very good to you lately, have i?”

you shook your head with a cut off laugh. “no.”

“i apologize. there should be a balance between you and my tasks, and there hasn’t been. please forgive me.”

“it’s fine. i understand you’ve got a lot going on.”

“but you’ve been hurting, have you not?” lucifer pressed. “anything that hurts you is important to me. i promise to do better.”

“thanks,” you said, and lucifer finds your hand amidst the blankets, giving it a squeeze.

“are you hungry? someone prepared all of my favorite dishes and i think it’d be rude not to eat them, though i do think no matter how good the food it the company will be better.”

DIAVOLO:

you don’t even have to check your phone to know what the message would say. some variation of ‘sorry, something came up’ or ‘rain check?’ would surely fill the screen, and you simply couldn't deal with that at the moment.

diavolo had been so, so busy lately, every moment of his spare time simply gone, put instead towards one more task, one more duty, and while you were incredibly proud of him for taking on so much and doing all he could, you couldn’t help but feel pushed to the side, less important than everything else he had going on.

it was an unfair thing to feel- diavolo didn’t need you acting like this when he had everything else on his plate, but you weren’t able to shove the feeling away.

it made you feel worse to say that you had been expecting the cancellation. that made him sound like a shitty partner, and he wasn’t, he just had a ton going on.

at least you hadn’t left the house yet. you were just about to, but you hadn’t. taking off your shoes and coat, you decided to change into something comfier, resolving to spend the evening drowning your sorrows in your favorite show and a bucket of ice cream.

diavolo rushed out of the meeting room, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone, which was rude, but he had to go. he felt so terrible for canceling on you, yet again, and through your response was understanding and lighthearted, he knew how to read between the lines.

“my lord,” called barbatos from behind him. “here. you may find these helpful.” in his arms was a bouquet of your favorite flowers, beautifully arranged.

“thank you so much,” diavolo breathlessly said, taking the flowers. he should really give barbatos a raise.

it doesn't take long for him to arrive at the house of lamentation, out of breath and decidedly less put together than he normally was. raising a hand to knock on the door, he waits.

thankfully, it’s you who opens the door and not one of the brothers. you’re wrapped in a blanket, looking at him in surprise.

“hi,” diavolo managed, smile on his lips.

“hi,” you said back, leaning against the doorframe to cross your arms.

“these are for you.” holding out the flowers, he waited for you to take them. you do so with trembling fingers. “i’m sorry I missed our date tonight.”

“it’s uh, alright,” you said, stroking one of the petals gently. “you’ve got responsibilities you can’t abandon.”

“i want to,” said diavolo suddenly. “i want to abandon them. whisk you away somewhere, take a break.”

your smile verges on sadness. “i know.”

“how do I fix it?” diavolo’s desperate. “i miss you.”

“i miss you too. and i think it would help to set boundaries. you can take a break, delegate some tasks. say no to people.”

“i’m not very good at that,” he said with a rueful laugh.

“it takes practice.” hesitating, you look at him, taking in his unruly appearance. “would you like to come in? i’m on the season finale of this show, but i don't mind starting over.”

diavolo steps inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he does so. “i’d love that.”

MAMMON:

biting your cheek, you stared at the ad on devilgram, watching he likes flood in. itt was an image of mammon- head tipped back and shit unbuttoned, modeling for another product.

it was his fifth gig in as many days, and while you liked that he was making money in a legal way, you felt like you hadn’t seen him at all. he was coming home late, falling straight into bed, then leaving early, before you could get more than a few words in.

he was applying himself, and that was fantastic, but it seemed to be at the cost of you.

you liked spending time with him and seeing him, but that was virtually impossible, what with all of the places hge was constantly going to. you just couldn’t keep up.

but it wasn’t fair of you to drag mammon down and make him stop working. you knew he’d drop everything for you if you asked, but if you asked, he’d never leave your side, which meant the rest of the brothers would be back to disappointed in him, and you couldn’t let that happen. their attitudes towards mammon made you so angry, but it was;t a problem you could fix, though not for a lack of trying.

maybe if you slept on it you’d feel better in the morning.

mammon shimmied with happiness as he counted the money he now had. it was finally enough to take you to that sweet new place downtown. he’d been working his ass of to get enough funds, and now that he had, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

hopefully, you’d be just as happy as him.

tiptoeing into his room as not to disturb you, mammon carefully slid under the covers, trying to be as quiet as possible. unfortunately, you still woke up.

“mammon?” you whispered, sleep heavy in your voice.

“yeah, baby, it’s me,” mammon said back, and even he could hear the smile in his voice.

“what’s go you so happy?” decidedly more awake, you roll over to look ar him, squinting in the darkness.

“well, it was going to be a surprise, but if you want to know so bad, i’m gonna be takin’ ya out tomorrow.” mammon strokes your cheek, watching you.

“you are? you don’t have another gig?” there’s a slight bitterness in your tone that he could hear, and it made him feel bad.

“nope! i’ve only been workin’ so much to take ya to this place,” replied mammon, watching your eyes widen.

“really?”

“yeah. i know i’ve been busy, but that should be over for now. i’m sorry i haven’t been around much lately.”

you sut up slightly. “no, mammon, that’s okay. i’m happy you’re working. well, i’m happy if you’re happy, and you’ve seemed pretty happy lately.”

“only because i’ve been preparin’ to take ya out,” mammon hummed, touched by your kindness. most people would be put out with him, and rightfully so, but you’re still doing your best to be kind. “i’m still sorry. i didn;t like being away from you.”

“i didn’t like it much either,” you said. “maybe next time you can give me a heads up, yeah?”

“i’ll do ya one better,” mammon promised. “next time, if you’d like, i’ll take ya with me to the gig.”

“that’d be fun.”

“mhm. especially since you’d be there.”

leviathans-watching’s work - please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own

[ohworm-writes]

hello! :) so u know how kuon has a crush on sniper right ? can i get an imagine where reader is jealous bc of kuon, cuz u know, her crush on sniper etc etc (sorry i'm just vv lazy at typing), and how sniper reacts to it ?? can u make it like they're still friends but have mutual feelings for each other as they hang out as a unit, and they get together in the end bc sum confessions happened !! sorry if u don't get it i'm rlly bad at explaining but thank u in advance if u do this !! <33

High-Rise Invasion/Tenkuu Shinpan: Sniper Mask Boyfriend Imagine

high-rise invasion/tenkuu shinpan masterlist

‼ Jealous Reader (over Kuon) + Make up + Confession ‼

Featuring: Sniper Mask, Yuri Honjo, Mayuko Nise (implied), Kuon Shinzaki (implied)

Warnings: frustrated Y/n, crushes, jealousy

a/n - good GODS this has been in my inbox for a while and i’m so so so sorry for not posting it way sooner! hopefully you see this anon, and i hope you enjoy!

content below the cut!

you had developed a crush on the man in the mask ever since you first joined Yuri's little group

you couldn't really tell what it was the drew you to him

he was silent, dismissive, and he was a Mask for goodness sake!

but none of that deterred you from the attraction you garnered for him

you always found yourself trying to interact with him

whether it was offering your help with something that he was doing, or simply keeping him company

most times he brushed you off, walking away and not giving you an answer

other times he silently accepted your offer

those times the two of you would sit in comfortable silence, just enjoying one another's presence

you cherish moments like these for a very specific reason

Kuon

now you had nothing against the girl!

... at first

she seemed nice enough, always eager to help, and full of ignorant innocence

but then you realized her (very obvious) crush on the masked man

the way she got flustered around him so easily

the way she clung to him like a lost child

at first, you thought maybe she saw him as a parental figure, seeing how young she was

but that thought was (very) quickly thrown to the wind when you saw her wrapped up in his jacket, blushing like the schoolgirl she was and giggling to herself

so what she liked him? you liked him too, maybe the two of you could bond over that!

that's what you told yourself

of course, you never acted on it

it was simple, you were too jealous to do so

you noticed how Sniper Mask welcomed all her little instances without a care in the world

not giving a damn when she clung to him

or batting an eye at her obvious fangirling

it pissed you off

naturally, you began to avoid Kuon

and Sniper Mask simultaneously

you avoided the two of them whenever you could

when you saw them walking towards you, you kept to the opposite side of the wall and walked quickly past them

when you all usually ate together, you picked up your food and ate outside

you were simply, undeniably jealous

you didn't think Sniper Mask cared about it, not that you could tell under his mask

but in actuality, he was confused as to why you avoided him all of the sudden

so, he opted to ask you one day

You shut the door to the dining room rather aggressively as you exited, but you couldn't care less. You let your body slump against the adjacent wall, your plate of food resting on your lap.

Today had been... exhausting, to say the least. Kuon was on her usual actions of pining over 'Mr. Mask', crossing your way a few more times than you would have liked. During your meeting earlier with her and Yuri, your fellow mouthless masked allies, she had the gall to talk on and on about how much she adored him.

You hated it.

You looked down at your food, a scowl finding its place on your features. You glared at it, pushing the pieces around with your fork, not noticing a door open and close right in front of you.

"Jesus, if that food was alive, it would be 6 feet under with the glare you're giving it." You hear a gruff voice call from in front of you. A voice you would rather not be hearing right now.

You continue to move around the food, staying silent as the man awkwardly stands in front of you, unsure of what to do with himself in this situation. "Is it, uh, okay if I sit here?" He asks, which finally makes you look up.

He had a plate of food between his own hands, his jacket gone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mask covered his face, per usual, but it seemed much more lopsided than usual.

You give him a shrug in response, looking back down at your food again. He stands there for a moment, before taking a seat right next to you, your knees almost touching. "You don't mind if I eat with you, right?"

His question makes your eye twitch. Was he seriously trying to be all buddy-buddy with you now? You shrugged again, not giving him as much as a single word.

You heard him sigh, setting his food to the side before he speaks again. "Alright, what's going on?" He asks, making your body tense up. "Nothing." You shoot back, scowling.

"What happened to the Y/n that stayed up and talked about their life for hours? What happened to the Y/n that told me horrible jokes to try and get a reaction out of me? Huh? What happened to them?"

That broke you.

You were angry, furious even. Was he trying to blame this on you? You didn't do anything wrong! If it wasn't for Kuon, maybe you would still be that person! If it wasn't for her, you could still be friends with him! You could be-

"What?" You hear him say softly, much softer than his previous tone. Shit, did you say that out loud? "Yeah, you did." He says again, looking at you with a concerned expression on his face, not that you could tell.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out. I just- I’ve been-" You stutter, trying to find the right words. He laughs at that, actually laughs at it.

His laugh is hearty, warm, almost inviting you to laugh along with him. You don't, but he quickly composes himself, making your head turn towards him.

"Why on Earth were you jealous of Kuon?" He asks honestly, watching at how the invisible gears turn in your head, searching for an answer. You sigh heavily, running a hand across your face as you shake your hands while you speak.

"I just- she’s always there with you. She's latched onto you 24/7! I can't get 5 minutes alone with you before she comes barging in." You rant, frustration evident in your shaky voice.

"I just wanted to be your friend, be close with you. I can never do that because she's-she's there." You groan, hugging yourself with your arms. "I sound like a selfish idiot now, huh?"

You laugh dryly, frowning. He sighs, but a smile plays at his lips. "Y/n." He begins, his hand resting you your forearm. "You know she would never purposefully do that. She just, she has an infatuation with me I guess."

He sighs dramatically, earning a chuckle from you. "But." He tells you, watching your eyes as he speaks. "That doesn't mean I didn't miss you."

Your heart skips a beat at his comment, face flushing softly. "Kuon also misses you. You might not have caught onto it, but she looks up to you." He explains, smiling at how your expression softens, mumbling a soft 'she does?' to him.

He nods, laughing once more. "Come on, have dinner with the rest of us. We can't have you sitting alone out here anymore." You roll your eyes, but take him up on his word. He leads you back to the other, Kuon frantically waving over to the two of you the second you pass through the door.

"Y/n! Come sit with me!" She yells excitedly. Maybe you were wrong about her.

after that interaction, the three of you were all on much better terms

yes, kuon still had her habits, but he toned them WAY down after you explained to her how it made you feel

she teased the hell out of you for it too

you, of course, shrugged it off

but you never told her that she was wrong

you were happy to be on good terms with Sniper Mask again

he made a lot more time for you

your old interactions coming back at full force, and some new ones

he loved to take you on little walks on the high rises

he also made it a point to teach you how to shoot his rifle

which was terrifying, but exhilarating

you fell for him harder and harder every day

one day, you ranted your feelings out to Kuon

and while she wasn't surprised, it warmed her heart to see how much you loved him

yes, she crushed on him too, but that didn't take away from the obvious connection she saw between the two of you

unbeknownst to you, Sniper Mask had come to her about the same things

his usually cold demeanor broke whenever he talked with you

he genuinely enjoyed your company, he wanted more of it

and then some

so, she put a plan together

operation "get Mr. Mask and Y/n together" is a go!

she took it all very seriously

making sure you guys get paired together for scouting missions? that's all her

convincing Sniper Mask to get you little gifts and things? of course

overall, the best wing-woman you could ask for

however, the one thing she didn't have anything to do with was his confession to you

he could have used her help with it, that much was clear

but he wanted to tell you how he felt, no help necessary

Sniper Mask had told you earlier this morning to meet you at his room when the sunset before he rushed to get out of your vicinity like you were a plague. Granted, it hurt your feelings, but you couldn't stand him up.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, stepping back and waiting patiently for it to open. After about a minute, while you had heard nothing, you went to knock again.

Your efforts were proved useless as the door swung open hastily, revealing a disheveled Sniper Mask. His usual blazer and fedora were long forgotten, his hair messy, strands pointing this way and that. His mask sat lopsided on his face, still covering it fully.

"H-hey Y/n." He mumbled out, you offered him a wave as he awkwardly shuffled to the side, opening the door as an incentive for you to come in. You stepped inside, walking to the center of the room as you heard him close the door behind you.

You turned to speak to him again, but those thoughts were cast aside as you felt his hands settle onto your cheeks and his lips molding with yours. It startled you, you're eyes open in shock as you looked at him. His mask was completely off, thrown somewhere in the room, but he didn't seem to have a care in the world.

You quickly melted into the kiss, bringing your hands up to gently hold onto his forearms. He hummed, taking a moment before pulling away, leaving the two of you to gasp for air as he rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes to meet his, full of adoration.

"I, uh, I think I'm in love with you?" It was more of a question, but you took it happily. You laughed softly, your fingers rubbing small circles in his forearms.

"Was that what that was?"

[tomb-bloom-noctem]

Ignore me it's time for me to rant because I'm just so exhausted from hateful comments. Hiding it under a read more so no one has to be forced to look at my misery.

I got a piece of (already now deleted) hatemail on my fanfic of Brothers, A Tale of Three Hedgehogs. A hatemail that was critical of the fact that the Triple S bois aren't exactly like their game selves. Honestly, I'm mad as hell that I write fanfiction, damn good fanfiction at that, and frequently get met with criticism that my take on the characters (Donald Duck, Sonic, Mabel Pines, Della Duck, etc) are "not in character"

I mean first of all, I really do attempt to BALANCE what the character would do/say/react canonically with where my stories take them. But damnit I'm not writing stuff that's canon compliant! Almost everything I write is tagged with AU for fucks sake. I am not writing little adventures that could go along side the canon, I am creating entire versions that are meant to be their own thing. No Donald Duck does not canonically try to kill himself in Ducktales 2017 and have to embark on a long mental health journey to recover afterwards, there's no fucking way to say what Donald would or would not do in that situation because Disney wouldn't touch that story with a 10 foot pole! Or ew why is Shadow still so hung up on the past in Brothers A Tale of Three Hedgehogs, why does Sonic still have feelings for Sally or why does he even care in the first place since their relationship has been retconned by Sega. Because I fucking want to write a story that takes SatAM, Sonic X, and a good chunk of the games - which may I remind you are all VERY different types of source material with their own takes on the characters - and rolls it all into one story. Because in that story I need the characters to have growth and change and be affected by the things they've gone through! Stagnant characters won't work for this story! Or why is Mabel Pines depressed in your fic, she's 13. Because fucking hell my dude, I was once a depressed 13 year old too! I know what it's like! So I wanted to write a story about it!

BECAUSE IT'S A STORY. I AM NOT BOUND BY THE RULES SET BY THE IP OWNERS. It's fanfiction! I am free to write whatever I want!

Like oh my God. You do not have to like it when I or anyone else writes characters in a non canon compliant way. You are free to feel that way. But good GRIEF what is the freaking POINT of pouncing into mine or anyone's inbox and saying how you're a bad writer because your version doesn't align with canon, you're a bad writer because you wrote the characters in a way I DON'T LIKE, on and on and on! Wtf! Do you people who do this shit also climb into smut fics and pull this same stunt? "Uh well ACTUALLY, we never see XYZ character engage in sexual activity so THEREFORE this fic is out of character!"

Do you hear how dumb that sounds???

I don't read smut fics so hell, maybe they are, IDK. That's besides the point though.

Just. Fucking hell. Have fanfic readers of today forgotten the old wisdom of "Don't like it, don't read it?" Yes that's normally applied to shipping content but god, please apply it to literally everything when it comes to fanfiction. There is this WONDERFUL TOOL at your dispense when you wind up reading a fanfiction you don't like like. It is called the back button. You know what is an infinitely better thing to do than write a hateful comment or fucks sake a series of extremely hateful and threatening anons on the author's Tumblr account??? Backing out of that fic and moving on with your life.

I mean fuck I'm very sorry for ranting on and on about this but it's 1:30am and I've already had such a rough day, I got real excited to see someone commented on my fic only to receive a long angry criticism that I'm not writing in character and that failure on my part is ruining their enjoyment so badly thar they can't even bring themselves to leave me kudos! Like, buddy! Oh pal, my good sir, instead of wasting your time, just LEAVE! It's okay to just leave and not say a word!

"Tombs, why do you care? Just ignore the haters-"

No. You know what. No. I can't. Okay? I work HARD on what I write. I don't expect to be everyone's cup of tea, I don't expect people to sing my praises from the heavens, no! But for FUCKS SAKE. Life is so shitty! I don't want to even exist most days! I've been having to fight all this mental illness for years without any help thanks to living in the middle of nowhere and I'm still frequently suicidal - I seriously contemplate checking myself into a hospital again sometimes! I would just like to be able to write whatever story I'm focused on at the time in peace okay??? I try to not complain that it's disappointing to not get much positive attention on what I write. But the frequent hate mail on TA&TA and now this on Brothers, it's E X H A U S T I N G. I'm TRYING to live my life and make things work and not be a completely bitter and mean person like my mother was or turn to her vices. I'm freaking trying to do what I can. I just CAN'T with this damn hatemail on my stories though or especially the god awful anons people send me sometimes, PLEASE just leave me alone if you don't like what I make!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 7

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

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

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go. 

You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway. 

“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.” 

“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.” 

The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner. 

Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you. 

You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything. 

“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses. 

“I... don’t know--” 

“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?” 

He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you. 

“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.” 

He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl. 

“Sy!” You squawk. 

He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.” 

“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone. 

He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter. 

He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around. 

You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle. 

You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost. 

You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder. 

“Sy,” you say softly. 

He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath. 

You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth. 

He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet. 

“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.” 

He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click. 

You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again. 

Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well... 

No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.  

Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to. 

You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision. 

You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer. 

As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses. 

“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully. 

You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?” 

His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.” 

You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.  

“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets. 

You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head. 

“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest. 

“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.” 

You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.” 

You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again. 

“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.” 

You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue. 

“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.” 

He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.” 

He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him. 

“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits. 

🧸

You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped. 

You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room. 

“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak. 

He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is. 

He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along. 

That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.” 

You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.” 

“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite. 

You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour. 

“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly. 

Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--” 

“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.” 

“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---” 

“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.” 

“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges. 

You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--” 

“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.” 

You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance. 

“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

[tryingtimi]

Happy WBW! So there are two magic types in your wip? I just read the whole crystal gods one and how it's charged, but how does it work? How do these two magic types different? How big of a role does magic play in your stories anyway and what do you like about it? :D I'm a magic nerd sorry @writingonesdreams

Happy WBW!! Thank you for the ask! ❤️

I love every one of your questions, so I’ll try to answer all of them. However, my magic systems are still in their alpha phases so :D there might be some (or a lot) holes. Anyway, here’s what I’ve got already! I'll cut this here to save some you some space on your dash hehe. (Also tagging @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @jess-p-edits and @aninkwellofnectar because I know you guys were interested in the magic, so uh, here it is!)

CRYSTAL SYSTEM

So, the crystal magic works in a little tricky way. This material kind of acts like a hivemind. If you have a connection to it somehow, you have connection to all of the pieces people broke from the original skeleton.

Since humans don’t have a direct connection neither to the material, nor to the magical energy, the first thing they need is a piece of this crystal attached to their body. Our crystal (dark) mage Darmon for example gonna have an eye replaced with this crystal. That kind of the core what’s purpose mostly is to make the connection happen, so it doesn’t explicitly require charging (but it will be tho, reasons below). Then, they also need a crystal spike pierced into someone that has the energy, so it can drain it and every piece can charge itself. Now, the mage has the connection and they also has the energy contained which makes basically telekinesis capable. A crystal mage can control the charged crystal pieces so long as they have magic inside them and they have one piece attached to their body.

The magical energy is gonna have a different color beause it’s a decaying energy from the point when it was forced out of someone’s body, and it also gonna shape the crystal into a violent shape when it charges it. It will make the crystal pieces more sharper, piercing, deadly.

SOUL (?) SYSTEM

Onto the ancient system which only differs from the crystal one in a sense that it doesn’t need a container. In the times long forgotten, humans had only a handful of people who were graced with the ability to hold magic inside themselves. It was a blessing of a charitable god who especially liked humans. These Keepers were able to leak magical energy when they got physically exhausted (so they were trained to be fighters), what the Shepherds (who were trained to be mages basically) could guide and use for a lot of stuff, including healing too. (They don’t needed crystals because gods were still around and helped them to learn these things without those. But this is one of the holes I couldn't fill properly yet). The energy, also, can't be seen by human eyes, so they had some ability in the past to get through this opsticle, ANYWAY back to the Metalsea stuff lol.

The new folk does leak this energy too. But, since the knowledge of this ancient magic system were lost through the years, they don't know about any of the stuff above. One of our MC however will find some crumble of information about it and because of the driadlin's changing eye colour, she's gonna start to see this energy. Yeah, I guess the eye colour changing needs some explanation too, but I'll leave that for another time :D. The point is that she's gonna see it, investigate after it and slowly learn the ancient way of guiding this magical energy and heal, boost others etc. Not sure what's it does exactly, yet, but yeah, these two stuff is kind of what I want to keep for sure.

MIXED STUFF

The draar developed a cultural tradition that unintentionally mixes the two stuff. It includes attaching this god-crystal to their body in places where they were injured. So, for example if your arm was so gravely wounded that you can't use it anymore, then there's a very painful ritual that you need to go through to get this crystal basically merged into your body. It's gonna be a part of you (in contrary with the humans whom body incapable of completely merge with the crystal), fills out the wounded bit and it's gonna be almost eternally charged because the magical energy is inside the draar, so it's cricling in their body through the crystal. This gives them a boost in the ability they're the best, ergo if someone can punch hard then they'll be able to punch harder, like a wall-breaking-with-a-single-blow lot harder.

They can gather a lot of energy in the crystal and basically have an own Kamehameha. After using this "ultimate ability" tho, the crystal stays empty for a little while, because all the energy that were inside that and the body were used up together to burst out into a big mass of boost. That results in sudden exhaustion, slowness in motion etc. SO that's why our team's gonna work well, because with the MC knowing the ancient system and seeing the energy, she can direct magic into their drained crystals in a non-violent-neither-morally-questionable way.

Oh, and the energy the magical folk leaks also contains the best ability of the ?leaker?. You know, the one who the magic came from lmao. Which means, if someone's crystal gets charged by another person's leaked energy, then they get their best ability.

That's how Darmon's gonna be a pretty good fighter even tho he lacks actual training. Because our main villain will charge his eye crystal with a good martial artists energy all the time.

Aaalso, this is more a of a side note, but I'll talked about this in another ask, so I feel the need to include: The main villain's capable of this ancient guiding the energy ability, but he advanced it into a level where he can rip out the magic from someone's soul and leave them hollow. This, however has a very big price which I'm not totally sure about yet, so I'll talk about that later in the future. What sure is, he can't use this ability all the time.

Ay, this got waay too long, so I'll end with the last two answers. I think magic will play a pretty big part of the story based on the things I just wrote down lol I just realised too while I was writing. I love magic systems but I suck at forging my ideas of them into coherent stuff, so this is something I need a whole lot of time to develop. What I like about these tho, is their limitations. :D I always fall in love with the limitations of a magic system, they can be very interesting!

THANK YOU AGAIN!!!

[shysneeze]

missed smiles (draco malfoy x reader)

missed smiles (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

request: could you do a Draco imagine where the reader gets injured somehow (like falls down the stairs) after a fight (angst) and then he gets all protective (fluff)? tysm!

Warnings: kind hints towards depression but it’s minor.  half blood prince level draco angst because I'm in one of those moods mentions of war,  family pressures etc, fighting and injury. 

Authors note: I skimped so hard on the fluff this is basically just angst pls forgive me. 

..

The late November snow crunches aggressively underfoot as (Y/N) storms back towards the castle, Draco's footsteps echoing her own not far behind her as he calls after her. She lets out a harsh breath, not daring to look back in case her anger slips into something else and the tightness in her throat gives way to the sob she's been holding back.

"(Y/N), please." He pleads. "Let me explain."

She comes to a stop, breath shaking as it leaves her lips and forming wispy streams of condensation as it meets the cool air. She knows she needs to turn around, but she can't look at him right now, she can't look at him without seeing it again on his arm, the inky mark of the wizarding world's dark past and looming future.

It was revealed after what was a perfect date. She was so happy to see him smiling, that grin that was becoming so rare these days, she was sure it was the start of better things for this school year. Then she saw it, seeping through a wet patch on his shirt when he peeled off his coat to layer on top of her own due to the aftermath of an impromptu snowball fight. Ominous and taunting, the dark mark stared back at her.

Now, she finds herself turning slowly to face him, glad momentarily to find he's covered the incriminating tattoo, that she can't see it directly, with all its cruel implications. However, the knowledge of it has engraved itself in the centre of her thoughts, torturous and vile.

"How do you even begin to explain that, Draco?" She demands through gritted teeth. "How?"

He gulps under her harsh look despite knowing it's a quickly crumbling façade, watching her bottom lip tremble and her eyes well with reluctant tears. Words tumble out so quickly he's not even sure they make sense, a panicked onslaught of barely coherent apologies as he steps closer.

"No, Draco." She whimpers, stepping back. "No."

Her eyes clench shut and forces the escape of reluctant tears that she lifts her shaking hand to hide. The logical bit of her, the bit that tells her he doesn't want this, that knows him well enough to know his hand must have been forced in the matter, is hidden behind the bitterly betrayed part of her conscience.

"I can't do this right now." She exhales shakily.

His jaw slackens in defeat, explanations left hanging on the tip of his tongue while he watches her leave, ascending the steps to the castle. The weight of it all settles once again on his chest as it has all year, heavy on his lungs until he's forced to breathe manually under the pressure. He watches her go, convinced that's it, that his one perfect thing is gone for good.

His eyes cast downwards with shame and he's about to turn to walk away himself, to find somewhere to think everything through when he hears her yelp. He's too late in turning to help, instead staring wide-eyed and her crumbled figure at the bottom of the icy steps.

"(Y/N)!"

.

(Y/N) groans softly as she struggles to open her eyes, frown fixing itself on her face at the her unfamiliar surroundings. She doesn't register herself as being in the hospital wing until she hears the gentle tut of Madam Pomfrey from the foot of her bed.

"Miss (Y/L/N)." She greets. "Finally awake I see."

"Finally?"

Her voice is hoarse and quiet, forcing her to wonder just how long she's been out for. Madam Pomfrey gives her an understanding look and gives her a sympathetic smile. The older woman steps around her bed to (Y/N)'s side and gently pushes her into an upright position in order to manoeuvre the pillows in her aid.

"You had quite a tumble down the stairs, my dear." She informs. "Quite the concussion I'm afraid, so don't worry if it takes a moment to remember- I'm sure Mr Malfoy will be able to help once he wakes up too."

The nurse gesture with a slight smirk towards the head of blonde hair resting face down on the edge of the mattress, just by (Y/N)'s legs. The sight of him is enough to have the memories flooding back, heart aching at the memory.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few." Madam Pomfrey informs.

"Thanks." (Y/N) gulps.

Once the older woman is gone, footsteps placing her well in the distance, (Y/N) turns back to the sleeping boy by her side. He looks small here, curled by her side, so sweet it's hard to believe what he's hiding underneath his cool façade and long sleeves. She finds herself reaching a hand out tiredly for his hair, curling her fingers in it gently and watching him stir.

He wakes as groggily as she did, with the same confused frown. Then, eyes meeting hers, they widen and a sigh of sheer relief escapes his lips. He looks exhausted, with ashy grey circles hanging under his eyes, although she's sure they've been like that for months now.

"Thank goodness you're awake, (Y/N)." He exhales. "God, I was so worried."

"How long?"

"About a day." He informs. "You hit you're head really hard-"

"Not that." She corrects in a whisper. "How long have you had t-the mark?"

The light brought to his face from her recovery dies at the question, eyes dropping instantly. She almost feels bad, but she needs to know, she needs to understand this all before she can allow herself to look at him the same.

"The summer." He admits. "Just before the start of term."

She inhales loudly, sharply as she take it in. She pulls her hand back from where he'd clutched it in relief when he first woke. The betrayal bites bitterly at her heart and tugs her brows into a disbelieving frown.

"I know." He whispers.  

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs aloud, causing him to shift guiltily. The logical part of her is back, reminding her that she knows him, knows this is not something he would do if given the option not to.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her words throw him off and he stares at her in disbelief. Where he expects the furrowed brows of an angry glare, he finds her expression full of concern. His confusion over her reaction manifest itself as a frown.

"I'm a- a deatheater, (Y/N)."

His voice is hushed, cautious of the fact only the thin layer of the curtain around her bed shields them from the rest of the hospital wing, from listening ears. She lets out a sigh, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head in response.

"No you're not." She sighs, an almost desperate edge to her voice, as if she's trying to convince herself. "You're not, Draco."

"I took the mark, (Y/N)." He corrects. "I'm sorry."

"There's no way you wanted this." She argues. "This has your father written all over it. I know this isn't you-"

"How do you always do that?"

She can see him trying to keep himself together, fists clenched so tightly they shake and his eyes brimming with tears he's begging to stay put. He lets out a sharp sigh, turning away from her to hide how his mask is crumbling, how he's so quickly beginning to come undone.

"What?"

"What do you see that no one else does?"

His voice cracks. Red rimmed eyes meet (Y/N)'s, so full of raw emotion that she finds herself letting out the smallest of sniffles as her fingers reach out for his closed fists, loosening them enough to grasp his hand in hers.

"I see my boyfriend frowning more than he smiles." She begins, voice trembling. "I see him losing all motivation for his hobbies, I see him sneaking off when he thinks I'm not looking and telling me he's fine when he's not."

She squeezes his hand, begging him to understand, to understand that she's worried, she so worried for him that it hurts. She worried when his smile didn't meet his eyes on the train, and when he asked to stay curled together in his dorm room the day of the first Hogsmeade trip when they would usually go to Honeydukes together. She’s worried all year.

"I was so relieved yesterday to see you smile." She continues. "I miss your smiles so much, Draco."

He lets out an inaudible apology, fixing his tear filled eyes on their joined hands, gasping under the pressure to keep himself together. It's like she's pulled out the last thread, the one that was keeping him in one piece and as if any sudden movement will rip him apart now.

"I know you're a good person." She concludes. "I know you don't want this."

"I don't." He admits through a raspy, quiet sob. "I don't want this but I had to- I had to for my family."

"Your dad?" She asks sadly.

"Father made a mistake, but it's H-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who chose me, to amend my family's names in his eyes." He shakes his head. "It was the only decision that could be made."

"Draco..."

"You know what he did to Cedric Diggory." He explains. "I have to do this to keep us safe."

"You're just a kid, Draco." (Y/N) whimpers. "We're just kid and this isn't supposed to be our battle... I'm so sorry that it's ended up yours"

"Don't apologise to me." He pleads. "Don't., (Y/N)"

"Someone needs to, Draco." She argue. "This isn't fair on you."

Her voice finally cracks and tears rolls down her cheeks. She sighs in frustration when he looks up in concern. She's supposed to the pillar of support right now, hospital bed or not. The tears plough downward regardless though.

"Don't upset yourself." He begs.

"I'm angry, Draco!" She exclaims. "No at you- at this whole thing."

"(Y/N) please, you shouldn't stress yourself after the fall." He gulps. "You'll still have a concussion."

She's almost forgotten where they are, and why they're here in the first place. She lifts her free hand to the newly thumping pain in her head and grimaces. He shuffles closer, lifting a hand to tilt her head for inspection when she swats it away.

"No, I'm the patient so you have to listen to me."

She gives him a stubborn frown that has him sinking back like a scolded child to listen to her. She extends her bandaged arm out and pokes a finger against his chest sternly, his eyes widening at the serious look in her watery eyes.

"We're going to fix this." She states firmly. "We're going to fix this together and you and your family are going to be safe again."

"H-how?"

"I don't know but we will."

She drops her hand to find his once again, squeezing his fingers with a sigh. He stares at her in silence for so long she's worried he's angry, but then his lips twitch into the slightest of smiles and a breathless chuckles falls from his lips.

"Thought I was supposed to be looking after you." He explains softly.

"I only fell, Draco." She assures. "I'm fine."

"(Y/N), you have no idea how terrifying it was so see you on the ground like that." He shakes his head. "Not moving, not waking up, and all I could think was I drove you away and you hurt yourself."

"Draco..." She sighs. "I was surprised, I didn't know what to do when I saw that thing on your arm and  ran when I shouldn't have."

"This isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either."

He lets out another laugh behind a poorly disguised sob, shaking his head again in surprise, perplexed again by her reactions. Always seeing the good in him, even when everyone is convinced it's not, when he himself has lost hold of it.

"I love you." He exhales.

"I love you too." She smiles sadly. "We're going to work this out, I promise."

He lift's the linked hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles gently. He believes her, something in his heart clinging to the assurance in her voice and the hope in her eyes. She's pulled that last thread, allowed him to fall apart at the seams in order to sew him back together again, gently and patiently, starting with the first stitch.

"I'm going to see that smile again."

.

Authors notes: like to think madam pomfrey is just sat outside the curtains like  👁👄👁 

[drarrygirl27]

Send this to ten blogs you think are lovely and deserve a boop on the nose ❤️💛💚💙💜🤗🥰 😎👉👉

Hi Wifey 👋

Hi Wifey! 😃

I'm really freakin' exhausted, but I'm still alive & breathing, I promise.

It is the last day for the students and it is a half-day today, Thank the Lord and the Holy Host for that!

The teachers are going to be here tomorrow though getting their stuff together and probably throwing away more trash. I had to throw out 3 trash cart loads of trash last night. 2 of the loads I threw out towered over the cart a pretty good bit.

One teacher that I really like stayed late so I had to use a rolling trash can to throw out some of her other trash for her.

I tell ya, by the time this done and over with, I'll probably be able to compete with Popeye the Sailor Man and such. I am getting A LOT of exercise especially when it comes to lifting. I don't need a gym membership because this job in and of itself is a gym membership.

Summer Cleaning is literally starting today after early dismissal. If I understood what was said to me correctly, the teachers are going to be here for one more week so the classrooms are bare except for some whiteboards, desks, cabinets, tables, and etc. so we can really start DEEP cleaning.

I did get some pretty cool treasures from them though. I'll post pictures later. Let's just say to a custodian, another man's trash really is another man's treasure. I was also given some plates, snacks, and drinks by one of the really cool teachers here. She is a Kindergarten teacher who is a real sweetheart who is actually my age which is really cool.

Sorry for not being very active on here. I have had A LOT of overtime lately. Thankfully, in a less than or in about 2 weeks from here, we'll be coming in early and leaving early and only having to work on Monday-Thursday. Starting tomorrow we're going to be clocking in at 7 am and clocking out at 4 pm. I don't know if that is going to be how it is going to be most of the summer time wise, but it will be what it will be.

I'm just excited about having a three day weekend once that starts. We're not going to know all the details until the 31st if I am not mistaken, but we will get done what needs to get done to make all higher chain of command happy.

I'll make an effort to talk to you more Wifey. I'm sorry for how long it has been. I promise I haven't forgotten you. I've just been really exhausted and busy. Hopefully, it will be more chill during summer cleaning and quick as possible like it kind of sort of was last year or even more chill and quick than my first time summer cleaning. Here's to hoping and praying that it is anyway. I miss you and I love you Sam I Am!