#they all have each other and i don't exist im just here standing off to the side like always

[brianssock]

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DAKOTA YOUR RUINING MY LIFE STOP TELLING ME THAT I'M THE EXTERIOR FRIEND AND THAT NONE OF MY TUMBLR MOOTS ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT ME.

Uugh.... I can't fucking take it because after telling him “oh yeah I get that feeling” HE'S IMMEDIATELY TELLING ME THAT THEY DON'T LIKE ME AND NOW I THINK THEY DON'T.

[filurig]

CONSIDERABLE LINDWURM REVAMP ... id always intended for them to be like some extant member of a very early ophidian family but they just looked like grass snake but feathers and four limbs for some reason. So now we have been made more silly. more info i couldnt fit into the sheet...

the mentioned integrated lindwurms in troll and tomte societies have now existed in them for a while - and the ones that have a longer history, actually have a slight genetic difference over solitary lindwurms, which affects them in that they have more gregarious tendencies. troll/tomte integrated lindwurms often have very different cultures than independent lindwurms, however, even they also have a more "casual" attitude towards their young, often having them be cared for by troll "serpenthandlers"

culture is sort of carried over in independent lindwurm populations through occasional interaction and the "bachelor groups". bachelor groups are actually often led by an "elder", or an elder couple of lindwurms who no longer breed. interactions are often still sparse, but elder lindwurms tend to be more open to interaction and often provide guidance and experience to them when prompted.

their spiritual beliefs often base themselves on the idea of the "mother serpent", whose eyes are always watching - the sun and the moon. it is believed that she flies across the sky during the cycle, slowly "spinning", with each full revolution being a whole day/night cycle. the sun and moon are the right/left eyes. so basically whether its day or night depends on which side of her body is facing the earth. im kind of generalising their religion here because while there are local variations this is the "base" they usually build on. tomte/troll acclimated lindwurm cultures usually integrate some of their religious figures as well, but the Mother Serpent remains the highest deity for them even then. the journey of the mother serpent also informs many lindwurms' view of raising young. kind of still figuring this out lol but essentially they believe that any personal "guiding" influence on a growing young lindwurm is going to make them veer off the "proper" path and mess up their development, most likely resulting in the young lindwurms never "evolving" from their more basal, serpentine state. again, the young lindwurms look a lot more like true snakes, scales and all (i did doodle this but it looks sketchbook crap so might doodle it some other time properly and make it its own post lol). this is why while troll/tomte acclimated lindwurms don't care about "raising" their young, they also are very particular in how trolls/tomtar raise them for them - in that they want no personal intervention and socialisation, basically just let them be little noodles in some enclosure. they do think its important for their young to encounter dangers and also take down live prey, so those are also requirements. like setting off a fox in their enclosures and only feeding live prey that the baby gets to hunt. if the baby gets hurt then that is what the forces that led the Mother Serpent to evolve wills (or somethang)

courtship among lindwurms often involve funny displays from the males with their eyes and moving their head around to show off their crest - not 100% sure how they go about it but it def looks silley as hale!!

while they dgaf about the babies generally, they are fiercely protective of their eggs.

very large as adults (basically as "tall" as an average human when "standing" like the gray one in the picture) but start out very, very small, about as big as a grass snake.

high mortality rate when young, they have relatively large clutches because of it. when the eggs hatch the couple just kinda fricks off a bit waiting for the young to leave

[bqu1nns]

im sorry i havent been posting, i feel like shit because ive been sick but i wanted to post this fic still ! someone requested a jealous!brian + sal sister trope because they liked it so much (thank you!) so here u go! whomever u are, i love u and it was awesome writing this. love u guys, i hope u are all safe and if i dont see u guys soon, happy new year ! my request box is open still if u guys want me to write anything specific AND i am open to writing for people who arent brian quinn lol !! hit me up ! toodles xx

daddy's girl 𐙚 brian q.

3219 words! my biggest one :3

the party was absolute chaos, which was what the vulcano’s were known for. well, mostly what sal was famous for. his apartment buzzed with energy, filled with people laughing too loudly and moving in and out of the hallways like it was some kind of jungle. you stayed by the hall, nursing a drink you didn't even like, your eyes doing what they’d been doing the entire night: tracking him. 

brian quinn. your boyfriend. or a friend you fool around with from time to time.

he was in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter like he owned the damn place. one hand holding a beer, his hand collecting liquid as his beer was getting warm, the other tucked casually into his pocket. he looked completely at ease. as if you didn't even exist to him. but you knew him better than that. you’d noticed the sparkle in his eyes when you walked in, the way his lips twitched like he wanted to grin but knew he couldn't. not here. not now. 

not with sal just across the room, playing host like he was the king of staten island. no one knew about the stolen kisses in dimly lit corners, the late night drives when you just couldn't keep your hands off of each other, or the way brian’s voice softened when he whispered your name in private when you belonged to him. the secret felt like it was fraying at the edges, waiting to be ripped off at any given moment. 

and then there was her.

she was standing almost too close, her body turned towards him like some damn flower bending to the sunlight. she laughed a little too loudly at something he said, her arm resting on his arm.

her arm resting on his arm. !!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

your stomach churned with something that you hadn't felt before, something that you couldn't even name, but it wasn't jealousy. no, that would be way too simple. it was something far worse.

it was possession. 

it hasn't always been this way—those stolen moments when no one was looking, when hands lingered just a second longer than intended, when his lips brushed yours like it was a secret between the two of you and no one else’s (which it was). but tonight? tonight was different. his gaze flickered across the room, catching yours for just a beat too long, but he didn't even move. instead, his attention slid back to the brunette, laughing like it didn't matter. like you didn't matter. 

you tried to look away, tried to focus on something—anything else. but the knot in your stomach tightened with every laugh he shared with her, with every gesture that seemed so familiar but so distant tonight. it made you want to scream. 

“hey,” someone said, his smile wide. “i don't think we’ve met. i’m jason.” you couldn't help but smile back, even if it was a little forced. “hi, jason.” you didn't want to seem rude to a polite man.

jason extended his hand and though it was unnecessary, you shook it anyway. his grip was firm, the kind of handshake rich people would have. “you must be new around here. i haven't seen you around at sal’s parties before,” he said, leaning casually. “i don't come to them often, he's my brother but they aren't really my scene. i just wanted to come to support him, i guess.”

his grin widened, teeth almost disturbingly white and flashy. “ah, one of those ‘too cool to party’ types, huh,” he teased, his tone light. “let me guess–you were dragged here against your own will?”

you laughed softly, amused by him now. “something like that.” jason leaned in slightly to whisper in your ear. “i'm sorry but i actually already knew you were sal’s sister,” his tone shifted to sound smug. your brows rose in mild surprise. “oh really? then why’d you ask..”

he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his drink. “just thought i’d have a little fun. but, actually, sal told me earlier. he mentioned you’d be here tonight and, uh…” his eyes flicked over you briefly. “suggested that i’d keep an eye out for you. said something about you not being a fan of these kinds of things.”

you blinked, the revelation catching you off guard. “he told you to keep an eye on me? how pathetic. sounds more like babysitting to me,” you scoffed at the thought. “hey, honestly, if he didnt say anything, i probably would’ve noticed you anyway.” you tilted your head, “oh really?”

“yeah,” he replied smoothly. “you don't exactly blend into the background, y’know.” it was a compliment, sure, but it landed a little too practiced. you rolled your eyes but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips despite yourself. “thanks, i guess,” you said dryly. 

“no prob. so, what's it gonna take to make sure you dont bolt from this party in the next 5 to 10 minutes?” before you could answer, you felt it—an unexpected pressure against your side, like someone had bumped past you with purpose and undetermined effort. without warning, you felt brian. his shoulder collided with yours, hard enough to send you stumbling slightly. 

“mind if i borrow her for a few minutes, man?”

your heart skipped a few beats at the sound of brian’s voice—like warm honey mixed with something darker. he didn't even glance at jason, his eyes were on you, the intensity in them almost too irresistible to ignore.

without missing a beat, brian stepped forward, pushing past jason as if he wasn't even there. before you could even process what was happening, he had you pressed against the nearest wall, his hand bracing behind your head while his lips crashed into yours. the world seemed to blur all around you, the party, the noise, the eyes of anyone else—they all simply faded. it was just brian, the heat of his body against yours, the urgency in his kiss that made everything else matter significantly less. 

for a moment, you forgot about the idea of sal seeing the two of you making out on his wall, about jason, about the fact that you were pretty much in a hallway at a crowded party. even though a small voice in the back of your head screamed that this wasn't the place, you didn't even care anymore. brian’s chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy but his eyes burned with something between frustration and want. 

“you're impossible,” you whispered, but there wasn't a real bite in your tone. it came out much softer, breathless, as you tried to catch up with everything that just happened

“me? you're the one flirting with your brother’s idiot coworker,” brian shot back, voice rough, but his hands—one sliding up to cradle your jaw—was anything but harsh. “do you have any idea what that just did to me, sweetheart? watching him try to charm you, knowing damn well hes out of your fucking league? huh?”

you tried to come up with something clever, something biting, but all you could manage was: “then do something about it.” his eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening as if he didn’t hear you correctly. “let’s go,” you said, your voice steady as you grabbed him by his hand and started pulling him towards the hallway.

“where?” he asked, though there wasn't hesitation in the way he followed. you glanced back at him, biting back a laugh. “the bathroom. we need to talk.” he let out a disbelieving laugh but you didn't ignore the excitement in his eyes. “talk, huh?”

the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind the two of you, the muffled sounds of the party fell away, leaving only the sound of your own raging heartbeat roaring in your ears. you turned to face brian, who already had his arms leaning back against the sink, a grin tugging his lips. 

his gaze was relentless, dragging over you in a way that felt like he could see straight through every wall you’d built around yourself. “you're gonna tell me what the hell that was out there?” his voice was low, the kind of tone that left no room for denial. “what do you mean?” you shot back, though your voice came out more innocent than you intended. 

brian tilted his head, his tongue running over his bottom lip like he was trying to stay cool and calm, though you could feel his restraint unraveling right in front of your eyes. “don't play cute with me, doll. you know exactly what i'm talkin’ about. jason.”

you bristled, stepping closer to him, your heart flaring up again. “oh, so it's my fault now? you've been busy charming every single girl in the room except me, but the second someone so much as talks to me, you act—”

“like you're mine?” he interrupted, his voice sharp enough to cut through you. he pushed himself off the sink, coming towards you. “yeah, i do. because you are.” your breath caught in your throat, but brian wasn't finished. 

“do you have any idea what it's like to stand there and watch some dickhead try to put his hands in your pants?” his voice softened but his words burned hotter by the minute. “you smiling at him, letting him think he could take you home for the night? do you know what that did to me?”

his words hit you like a large swell, stealing the air from your lungs. “i don't want anyone else looking at you like that, touching you,” he continued. “not when i know what's mine. and you are, baby. dont even try and deny it.” you swallowed hard, his words making your pulse thunder in your ears. “brian i’m s–”

his thumb traced your delicate jaw, his touch gentle. “say it,” he urged, almost pleading. “say you're mine.” your heart pounded, all your defenses crumbling under one blow; under the weight of his words and the intensity in his longing gaze. “i'm yours. only yours,” you admitted, the confession falling from your lips like some secret you could no longer bear to keep. 

you opened your mouth to respond even more but brian didn't give you the chance. his lips were on yours again, this time slower, deeper, like he was trying to memorize every part of you. the kiss’s tenderness made your stomach do somersaults. your hands found their way to his shirt, fisting the fabric as he pressed closer, the heat of him overwhelming in such a small space. his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you let out a soft moan that seemed to spur him on, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you even tighter against him. 

“god, you have no idea what you do to me, baby,” he moaned against your lips, voice husky, laced with raw need. “do’ya feel that? it's all because of you,” he murmured, placing your hand on his hard bulge, grinding against your hand. his lips moved to your jaw, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve until he reached your neck. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head, letting him get more access as he nipped and sucked sweet hickeys along your sensitive skin just below your ear. 

“brian.. i need you,” you whimpered, your voice trembling equally with desire and disbelief. he hummed in response, his lips curving into a smile against your sweet skin. “say it again,” he murmured, his hand unbuttoning your shirt, his fingers shaky. 

you swallowed hard, your hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “i need you so bad right now.. do whatever you want,” you pleaded, the words barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat and shared breaths of desperation. 

“fuck, youre so goddamn beautiful, baby,” he growls, his large hands cupping your breast as he takes in the sight of your heaving chest. you gasp at the sudden contact of his warm hands, arching into his touch as he kneads the soft flesh. “need to be inside of ya, doll. i need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. ”, he sounds desperate and needy. “m’gonna make you feel so good baby. not gonna stop ‘til you're screaming my name.”

he lifts you onto the sink, spreading your legs as wide as he steps between them. his hands tremble slightly as he unzips his jeans, his fingers fumbling with the button in his haste to get them off. i bet his cock hurts so bad right now. he shoves his pants down his legs, kicking them aside as he steps out of them. his boxers follow quickly, revealing his hard, throbbing cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. 

he wraps his large hand around his shaft, his fingers squeezing tightly as he pumped himself up and down, his eyes locked on your almost-naked form in the mirror. he spits into his palm, rubbing the saliva all over his cock, making it glisten in the harsh bathroom light. 

his hands slide down your sides, fingers dripping beneath the waistband of your skirt. he tugs it down along with your pretty laced panties, letting them pool at your ankles. the cool feeling of the sink hits your bare skin, making you shiver with anticipation. brian steps closer to you, his rough fingers parting your slick folds. he rubs your clit in rough, quick circles. “fuck, how’re you wet for me baby? such a needy little girl, aren't you…me getting jealous, did that excite you or somethin’?” he chuckles to himself, his voice vibrating to my core. 

“fuck– fuck no. was thinkin’ of taking him home, actually”, you moan softly as the heat spreads all over your body. his fingers curled deeper inside you, the squelch of his fingers fuck into you, fast and deep, the answer was quite enough. “mmph okay, tell me sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing past the corner of my mouth, he's teasing. “would he have you sprawled out on your brothers sink, already fucked out just by his fingers? would he have let you cum on his fingers?”

you're panting now, brian’s name leaving your lips in a wave of whines and moans. brian drinks it all in, his hand leaving your clit to pinch at your nipple. “c'mon sweetheart, you can tell me anything,” he says, cockily and sweet all in one. 

“you–aah!–drive me fucking insane. you think i wanted that prick?” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “you think i was smiling at him because i wanted him to fuck me, to mark me as his? you–shit–couldn't be more wrong, brian.” 

brian's fingers slow for a moment, twisting so he can thumb at your nipple before he continues his motions. you cry out, eyes shut closed, hips bucking forward. you want more, if that was even humanly possible. you're not sure if you can handle more. your eyes struggle to stay open, but when you open them, you catch the flash of brian’s pleased grin–fixated on your dumb-fucked expression before he focuses back between your thighs. 

“such a pretty pussy,” his fingers never spotting their relentless thrusting on your clit, “i bet jason would've loved to see me pounding into this tight hole. hear you screaming my name, begging for me. fuck, i bet he’d cum so hard,” his words were filthy. he was marking you, claiming you as his own. god help you, you loved it. 

“it's the fact that i can't stand the thought of anyone else touchin’ you, baby, lookin at you, even dreaming about you. you're mine. y-you've ruined me for anyone else. always you, baby. always.”

his words seem to steal your breath. you turn your head to kiss him. you both pour everything you have into it. he positions himself up, the head of his fat cock nudging at your entrance. he spreads your puffy lips apart as he slowly sinks into your heat. an inch, then another, until your walls were stretching beautifully around him. “fuck me… youre so tight. gonna take all of me, aren't you?”

you gasp at the sudden fullness, “brian… there's probably a line out there, they’ll hear us!”, you cry, tears bubbling. brian is quick to shush you, using his big hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. his hips snap against yours as he pounds relentlessly into you. the sink below you rattles with each powerful thrust, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the distant music. “you did this to me, now you're goin’ to have to deal with it, princess,” he leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he angles his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes you go insane. your legs begin to shake, he can feel your walls fluttering as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. 

your cheeks burn fiercely as brian’s hot breath ghosts over your lips, you guys are practically forehead to forehead together, spewing filth as he rams his thick cock into your hole over and over. the squelching of your mixed juices has your ears ringing and your thighs shaking. just as you were about to cum, there was a loud banging on the other side of the door, none other than your brother. “whoevers in there, hurry the fuck up!” 

“i’m busy here, sal!” brian called out, voice straining as he's too focused on making you cum. he knew you were close. “gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be feeling me for days.” you moan at that, arms sprawled onto his bare back. “fill this pussy up with your cum, mark me as yours, please” you seeth. your words are like a drug to him, spurring him on. you meet his thrusts, your manicured nails digging into his back as you cling to him, the pleasure building and building. “bri! oh god, brian, gonna cum on your cock!” he pounds into you harder, “let me feel this pussy squeeze me. fuck–fuck– gonna fill you up, make you mine. you can cum, you've been a good girl.” he’s talkative alright. 

that's all it took before you're gushing around brian’s dick. you think you screamed, biting down way too hard on his hand that was covering your mouth. he lets out a low whimper, spraying your walls with his warm cum. he sinks his teeth into your warm shoulder in attempts to cover his sounds as he comes. he doesn't stop thrusting and bucking his hips into yours, riding out both of your orgasms.

he looks completely fucked. you both do. your hair is a mess and you just realize all the hickeys you left on his chest, bright and red. brian smirks at the state of you, noticing how you both have to get out of the party looking like this. 

“i hate you,” you mutter as you try to catch your breath. he laughs, wincing when he pulls his sensitive cock out of you. “yeahhh sure,” he says as he puts his jeans back on and zips his fly back up. 

“you need to wear this dress more often, baby.” he says as he presses a few kisses to your cheek, and also a light smack to your butt. you don't respond with words, only an annoyed huff as you get down from the sink to put your dress back on. 

you hope this dress is long enough to cover up the stream of brian's cum traveling down your thighs for the rest of the night.

--

𖹭 happy new years !!! and thank u all so much for 200 followers <3

[d1s1ntegrated]

shigaraki x reader oneshot

includes: angst, pent up feelings, tomura being emo af, reader being soft, pretty sfw just some kissin :3

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

tomura isn't good with his emotions.

he's clingy, angsty, childish. he wants to win everything and he ignores whatever makes him human.

so when he realizes that having you around makes him feel things, he feels sick. he wonders if he's cursed, he wonders if his past is finally coming to haunt him. they way you laugh at his jokes, the softness to your voice when you speak with him, the scent of your hair as you walk past him. he's so fucking angry with you, he's so confused and hurt and doesn't understand why.

he sits across the room from you and stares. he can't peel his eyes from you. he ignores you when you ask if he's feeling alright, he just gets up and storms off. when you knock on his door a few minutes later, he slowly cracks the door and rolls his eyes. it's the last thing he needs, to see you when all he wants to do is forget you exist.

"shiggy, are you okay? you've been staring off all night. did one of us do something?" you ask him in that same pleasantly soft voice, and it hurts his head.

"i'm fine." he avoids your eyes, but stares daggers into your socks. he picks at his nails from his sides and shrugs. you can hear everyone else from the other room, laughing and yelling at each other, and wonder if you should just go back out and give tomura his space.

"i can leave, if you want. you don't seem to want company. i didn't mean to bother." you propose, but he looks you dead in the eyes now, and in the smallest voice, replies,

"don't."

"okay." you nod and close the door behind you.

"do you want to talk about it?" you ask, and he shakes his head.

"just shut up and sit." he points to his messy bed, before shoving his piles of clothes off and fixing the duvet slightly. good enough.

"...okay." you comply, and sit. you go to speak but he cuts you off.

"y/n, do you think I'm sick?" he asks, and you look at him.

"what? that's the last thing i expected you to ask." you blink at him, confused.

"aren't you scared of me?" he asks another equally as odd question. you frown.

"if i was, do you think I'd be here?" he grits his teeth.

"yes, because you're reckless and impulsive and an idiot and i hate that." he starts, his tone annoyed.

"i mean you aren't wrong, but wh-" you try to reply, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not finished. don't cut me off." he snaps, but you nod and let him continue,

"i hate that you don't care. i hate that you laugh. i hate how you clean me up and you care for us and you're always here. every time i walk out the door i expect to come back and you're gone, but you're. always. here. you just don't leave! what is wrong with you, y/n, for you to be so stupid and naive, to care for people like us. like me. you're too soft. you're too...good. to be here." his voice cracks at the end, but his words are sharp as he speaks.

you stand and face him. his breathing is heavy, his hands shaking at his sides.

"im no better than you." your answer is simple, but it gets him to look you in the eye.

"why do you stay?" he is quieter now, like what he said before drained him.

you reach out and grab his gloved hand. he doesn't protest, but he winces. you squeeze his hand twice for reassurance, and you feel his hand untense slightly.

"because i want to." he looks to your hand touching his.

"why are you touching me?" he asks shakily.

"because i want to." you rub his hand with your thumb, feeling the roughness of his palm and the soft material of the glove.

"you aren't afraid?" he asks, his sanguine eyes blown wide from the contact. its not a new thing for you to touch him, but you don't do it often. usually only to path him up, or shove him playfully. never this...intimately.

you bring yourself closer to him and brush a strand of his soft hair out of his face. he shivers at the contact and clenches his jaw.

"are you?" you ask, and he scoffs.

"it feels like slow torture." he answers, and you're close enough to feel his breath on you.

"why's that?" you look up at him, your voice low, as if you're keeping a secret.

"because i know it's gonna end." he admits. your eyebrows raise, and you lock eyes.

"it doesn't have to, tomura." the sound of you saying his name makes him swallow hard.

"don't. don't say things like that, it pisses me off, i know it's a lie, i know you'll leave eventually and i don't want to deal with that." he pleads, his hand shaking in yours. you shake your head.

"i'm not leaving. i'm not afraid of you." you whisper now, but you release his hand and just hold your gaze on him.

"y/n. don't." he hushes, as if someone's watching. but the door is closed, everyone else is drinking and shouting still, too distracted with themselves to notice either of them are gone.

"i don't think you're a monster." you say, and it's enough for him to stop caring. his anger for you, his disdain for your stubbornness, his frustrations, all fizzle out into force, and he presses himself against you, his rough lips meet yours hastily, messily. he throws all of his preconceptions out the window as he grabs your face and kisses you. the tension that stood the few inches between you before, is swallowed up in the moment, and neither of you care. the air is heavy, your mind spinning. he tastes like sour apples and smoke, and suddenly it's all you can focus on. he smells subtly of the ocean, and you feel like you're drowning. you refuse to pull away, instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and allow him to consume you. his kisses are hungry, desperate even, and uncoordinated. your teeth clash together and you laugh, but he still doesn't pull away. his hands move down to wrap around your waist, his fingers trailing down your sides and grabbing and tugging whatever he can.

finally, you both pull away for a breath, and you meet his eyes. they're wide, unsure. he opens his mouth to speak, but can't find the words, so you answer his unasked question before he finds the words.

"I'm not leaving still. if that wasn't confirmation enough, we can do that again, if you aren't sure" you smile as you say it, and he nods.

"i might need to double check" he smirks, and you allow him to pull you back in, smiling to yourself as his lips plant back onto yours.

if this is how it feels to be sick, tomura never wants to recover.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

my first one-shot! be nice i lowkey suck at proof reading :3 but anyways ye enjoy some soft angsty tomu and reader, and lmk if yall want either MORE of this or others!

also im working on a full-blown fic!

i won't go into detail, but its online to irl, slow burn, kinda not enemies but two angry ppl to lovers, and its obv shiggy x reader. :) ill prob post at least snippets here, and prob on my ao3 once i have a few chapters ready to go. so stay tuned!!

thanks yall <3

[yertle-the-turtle6678]

IM BACK AND I HAVE PERCIVER HEAD CANONS TO SHARE!!!

They meet in first year on the Hogwarts express. Percy's holding a giant book on third year divination. While this makes him a less attractive friend in the eyes of others', it's what brings Oliver Wood to the same train car as him. They introduce themselves and shake hands.

In second year, Oliver makes the Quidditch team as their keeper. Percy still spends the majority of his time indoors, but he goes to Ollie's practices and games every once in a while. After one specific game, Oliver comes back to the dorm with his breath cut short and with tears in his eyes. He stops breathing and the world goes spinning between each of his eyes; a panic attack, madame Pomphrey later describes it. The crowd triggered it.

Percy comforts him, sits on the same floor as him, rubbing the boy's back, repeating reassurance: "you're safe here,"

"You were good out there, really."

"I'll sit with you for as long as it takes."

Oliver comes to with his head on Percy's shoulder.

In third year, Percy goes to every practice and every game. He rubs Oliver's back when he returns to the dorm. When he loses for the first time, Percy has to chase him to stop him from running away, never to be found again.

"Hey, listen," Percy says, out of breath from the running. He doesn't understand how Oliver's barely breaking a sweat. "Tell me, okay? What went wrong out there?"

He gives Oliver a minute to pause and think.

Oliver gathers his thoughts and his breath. The sweat dripping down his neck fuels him, gives him energy. It clouds his head. He needs to calm down.

"I slipped on my broom." He says finally. "I wasn't planted on it properly."

"Good. What are you gonna do to fix it?" Percy replies, breathing better.

"I'll improve my grip."

"Good."

The two of them stand there, just breathing.

"Thanks."

In fourth year, they have the Yule Ball. Both of them are fifteen. Their year mates are out and about minging, asking each other out. The two of them stay where they are. They don't speak of the ball.

They go to the dance together, as friends of course. Percy keeps adjusting the collar to his hand-me-down dress robes. Oliver assures him that his attire is charming.

He sighs.

"If you had to wear these, I guarantee you'd understand me." Percy says. Over the summer his voice has changed. It's deeper and richer. Oliver loves it. Wishes he could taste it. Wishes these thoughts would go away. He grins and laughs Percy off.

When it's time to dance, they run away to a balcony that Percy didn't even know existed. They laugh and chat, making jokes at the dancers' expenses. Percy's had a bit to drink, (had he known the punch was alcoholic, he wouldn't have gone near it) and his face is flushed deep red.

"AND- and then when the-" he howls laughter. Oliver has to stop him from falling over himself.

Oliver thinks... He can't think at all. Suddenly. The two of them are so close together. He's got his arm around Percy's back and Percy's leaning against him, hands on Oliver's chest, still laughing. When he stops and catches his breath, though, the two of them seem to freeze. Oliver's heart skips a beat when he can physically feel Percy tensing up.

He kisses him.

Very awkwardly.

He made little action with his lips, just gently brushing his against the other boy's. The boy in question grins. Now it's Oliver's turn to flush deep red.

"ha-HA! No, wait, no, Oliver, wait."

Percy pulls Oliver back towards him by the arm. They're tangled with each other again, Oliver giving in to the urge to smile, just a bit, even after being embarrassed.

They kiss. Properly this time. It's the best thing Oliver's felt in his life. When they pull away, he whispers,

"Are you my boyfriend now?"

Percy smiles.

"Yes."

In fifth year, nightmares attack. O.W.Ls. Percy never sleeps anymore.

Oliver has to drag him away from his work table and force him onto his bed. When that bed later becomes repurposed for more studies, Oliver forces him onto his own bed. They sleep together and their dorm mates start getting suspicious.

Oliver sleeps in pajama bottoms and nothing else. Percy sleeps in a sweater and boxers. They spoon and Oliver rests his arm in front of Percy's only exit to stop him from crawling out of bed to study. Little does he know, Percy would never dare leave.

During the waking hours, Oliver drags Percy to other important places, such as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The outdoors. Interaction with other human beings. It's a tough life out here for him.

When the exams finally start approaching, they do not stop making out. It's the only thing that gets Percy's mind off things. Only because there's nothing more distracting than Oliver's mouth.

To his own surprise and nobody else's, Percy passes his O.W.Ls with flying colours. Oliver passes alright despite not studying.

In sixth year it's the same for their N.E.W.Ts.

Something changes in the relationship between Percy and the rest of the student body, especially the girls. Oliver knows he's gotten taller. And his freckles have cleared enough for his gorgeous face to be visible. His voice is still as beautiful as it was in fourth year. He's started rolling up the sleeves of his sweaters, and the halls seem to swoon rapidly when they spot his forearms. Oliver always knew that Percy could have this power over people; he'd been subject to it himself. But it annoys him. And what's even worse is that Percy doesnt seem to notice when he's being flirted with.

He gets into the habit of writing on Oliver with pens, a strange Muggle device that's actually pretty nifty. Some mornings, Oliver wakes up with markings he doesn't even remember. Percy writes on his chest a lot. Draws on his collarbone. The most repeated word is Percy's name.

Oliver looks in the mirror one day, at his shirtless body.

PROPERTY OF PERCIVAL IGNATIUS WEASLEY

It says this all over his torso.

He grins. No one's stealing Percy from him anytime soon.

They pass their N.E.W.Ts.

The Summer Before Seventh Year

France is a gorgeous place, Oliver realises. Filled with gorgeous girls, too. He's lounging at the beach when one of them asks him out. He's put on the spot and exposed, wearing nothing but his swimming shorts and sunglasses. He fumbles over his words.

"Err, I mean, no..." The girl frowns. She has gorgeous eyes. "I mean, yes, sure. Is Friday at 7 PM okay with you?"

It doesn't even occur to him that she's a Muggle.

Immediately after he's uttered these words, he regrets it. But he can't stand her up. And she's already walking away. Merlin, Percy's gonna kill him.

It's just one date and Oliver doesn't even enjoy. They don't touch each other at all; they don't even hold hands. But Oliver knows what he's done, and he knows what he has to do.

He writes a letter.

I love you. I'm sorry. I couldn't live with myself if I kept it secret.

He sends it away with his black owl.

At the Burrow, Percy receives two letters back to back on his birthday. The first is from Hogwarts, confirmation that he's this year's Head Boy. He jumps around the kitchen, all dignity forgotten, and hugs his mother with an enormous grin on his face.

The second is from Oliver.

How quickly Percy's face turns sour. Mrs Weasley asks if he's okay.

Tears sting his eyes. Outside, he tells his mother everything.

One day before the start of the school year, the Weasley's are staying at the Leakey Cauldron overnight. Percy hears pebbles being thrown at his window and goes to see who it is.

Oliver Wood. Merlin.

Percy goes downstairs, striding towards his partner. Punches him in the face and immediately feels bad, but doesn't let that stop him. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and a yell and a sob,

"How could you?"

"I'm so sorry, Percy."

"Why did you do it?"

"We didn't do anything. Didn't touch her. I remember what you wrote on me."

Percy breathes in deep.

"I wasn't talking about just your body, Oliver. I was talking about you. All of you." He exhales, trying to hold himself together.

"I wouldn't think twice about rejecting some Muggle girl for you. You think I didn't notice when the whole female population at school suddenly wanted to date me? Just because of my body? I resisted them for you, Oliver. Because I love you. Why couldn't you do that for me?"

"I don't know. I'm so, so sorry."

They decide to take a break from their relationship. When they start attending school again, their dorm mates wonder why they've stopped sleeping together.

[faellain]

The Accidental Baby Trap Incident

Summary: About four years after the events of First Class, Erik arrives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters with two little twins who he didn't know existed. Thinking he doesn't know what to do, he runs to Charles, not knowing the state his old friend is in.

Snippet 3

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the next morning, erik tiredly takes the twins down to the kitchen, providing them a breakfast of orange juice, apple slices, and toast with butter. he drinks three cups of black coffee and eats a single apple slice. without him there, and with charles in a state, hank has forgone actual coffee for instant like a savage. it might as well be mud as far as erik is concerned.

"i hate toast," pietro tells him and briefly erik wonders how anyone could hate toasted bread.

erik sighs beleagueredly, "when i was young, i'd be grateful for any meal- wanda, do not turn your brother's toast into something else."

"yeah, i don't if i can do that again," she admits sheepishly, pulling the hand that was about to tap her brother's toast away, "i kinda don't know how i did it to the cookies."

"you're young. i didn't know how to master my own mutation till i was older and even then, sometimes i still needed help," erik assures her. wanda happily munches on her apples after that. pietro rolls his eyes.

he cleans up everything, wondering just how to start this day. it wasn't as if his children were full grown adults who he could toss into the danger room. he did not know where to begin training seven year olds. most mutants didn't even manifest until puberty... but his kids were early bloomers.

as he picks up breakfast, he hears footsteps coming around the corner. at first, he assumes it's hank. perhaps the other actually decided to emerge out of his lab at a reasonable hour. but hank walks with a heavy footstep from his mutation. these steps are light, stilted.

"oh!" he hears charles say, "well, uh, hello you two."

"you're the guy who punched dad!" laughs pietro, "you got 'im good!"

erik turns, "pietro-"

charles kneels down to speak with the children at eye level in their chairs, "he told me you have mutations of your own. what can you both do?"

"i run fast!" pietro exclaims before dashing out of his chair, leaving charles' hair whipping against his face. after a mere moment, he comes back with an empty glass which he offers to erik, "here, dad, you can wash this too."

"very impressive," charles tells him and pietro beams.

erik takes the glass as charles stares at it briefly before turning his attention back to the children. most likely it had come from his room. he turns and smiles at wanda.

"and you, little one?" he asks her.

"my powers are kinda funny," she admits, "i usually just use them to hold pietro in place or make things float when i get upset. but i turned snicker-whatevers into chocolate chip cookies yesterday."

finally, charles looks at erik, clear realization of just why erik has come to him finally dawning on him. pietro would grow to be an ordinary mutant, one who would need training and would excell, but not right away. wanda was like nothing they had ever seen before. charles turns back to her, nodding, and squeezing her little hands.

"that's very special. you both are," he tells her and then turns to pietro before moving back to look at both of them, "how about you two go and play in the yard? i have a tire swing out there you might like."

they both cheer and wanda looks at erik, "can we, papa?"

"go ahead. just don't go past the tree," he says. they promise, not that he trusts pietro to abide by that promise. but they both take each other's hands and dash off at wanda's speed.

charles stands, moving to make his own coffee, "they're lovely children… you never told me."

"i didn't know," erik replies, "magda didn't want my life for them."

"doesn't surprise me. vengenance, death of humanity and all that," charles murmurs as he pulls out a mug.

erik notices that he did shower at some point between their arguement and now. his hair lacks the grease and the smell has disappated in favor of the soap charles prefers. even years later, he could smell that soap and know charles was near.

"i don't understand her power," erik cuts to the chase, "i assumed she was telekinetic. and then one day she changed the color of her shirt by wishing it. and now the cookies."

"…you're scared of her," charles says, looking at him again. erik wants to die beneath that gaze.

"i'm scared of what others might do to her."

charles digs out one of the chocolate chip cookies from the pantry, erik resisting his desire to glibly remind charles that those are not a breakfast food. he sniffs it, stares at it before taking a bite and nodding in odd approval. at least his daughter didn't turn them into cookies that tasted bad.

"i suppose we shouldn't be surprised considering just how powerful her father is," charles says absently.

"perhaps only surpassed by a child of yours," hums erik, tiredly. imagning a child with equal or greater telepathic ability to charles is rather insane. he is perhaps the strongest telepath they know, even more powerful than emma.

charles laughs dismissevly, "that will never happen. i was careful before and i don't want one. i never did."

"you opened a school."

"yes. for school aged children with mutations like your children," he reminds erik, tone clipped as he stares at the coffee carafe filling up, "not babies. i shouldn't- it's one thing to teach children, it's another to raise them."

erik goes quiet. that he at least agrees with. at least he had a good example, but he knows a little about charles and raven's upbringing. mostly, frustratingly, from raven. charles knew everything about erik, yet charles hid his life, his pain from him constantly. even raven didn't speak much on their life outside of their inattentive mother who charles loved deeply anyway.

"hank invited me to stay the night after wanda changed the cookies," erik explains, quietly, too awkward. it's so strange to lack the helmet, but have charles in his arm's reach, yet not feel the other sharing his mind, knowing his thoughts. he would never let anyone else do that, "but we can leave."

charles shakes his head, "no. clearly we at least need to figure out what wanda's mutation is. do your- does raven know about them?"

"no," erik explains, "i haven't told any of them. to be honest, i've gone totally radio silent on them. i need to rectify that. give them some lie to keep them passive."

"you're the one who divided us," charles huffs, "it's not like they can tell you no. are you telling me you don't trust angel and raven with your kids?"

"i do," erik assures, "but we have other things on our plate. riptide is… missing. i had him investigating some possible mutants in vietnam and he's disappeared."

"disappeared?" reiterates charles, "should i be concerned? sean and alex were deployed early into this mess."

erik feels his heart speed up, "deployed?"

"sean got drafted," charles explains, "alex decided to enlist so he wouldn't have to go alone."

"and you let them just go? with the military?" erik snaps, "well, of course you did. you would. you and your peace."

"don't turn this into something it isn't," huffs charles, "i hadn't been taking the serum them. i asked sean if he wanted me to try and get him rejected. he told me no. they wouldn't be in any danger if you hadn't turned a million missiles on the government in cuba!"

"what you have always failed to see charles is that we were always in danger!"

charles turns on him rapidly, "not every human is the kind that hurt you."

"it is only a matter of time before they become them," erik snaps, leaving the dried dishes in a rack so he isn't tempted to throw them.

he can feel every knife in the shelf. their fields pull at him. the fridge feels like an atomic bomb, each little component awaiting his command. feeling the push and pull of the fields is his life, its his very nature. just as minds were charles'. but he's shut them out. where normally his feelings would be blaring loudly in charles' mind, he imagines himself as a giant black void to the former telepath.

how can it not be like losing a limb? then, of course, charles lost his legs. erik has lost so many things in his lifetime. his home, his safety, his parents, his autonomy… even charles himself. but he has never lost part of himself. even if they put him in a plastic cube, he could feel the push of magnets where the could not reach them.

"if that's true, then it is because you believe it so," charles replies, taking the carafe and pouring it into a mug.

instead of going for sugar or cream, charles grabs whiskey, angrily dumping it into the bitter drink. erik snatches it fromt he counter.

"i think you have had enough," erik tells him before dumping the entire mug down the drain.

"erik! goddamn you!" charles growls, shoving him almost childishly. his punch had been lucky and he never really had the stomach for true violence.

he takes charles' wrists, holding them tightly as he glares, "i said i think you've had enough."

"you do not get to waltz in here and pretend like we're still friends," charles writhes his wrists angrily, "you stopped being the erik i knew the minute you killed shaw!"

"shaw had to die!" erik replies, baring his teeth. sean had once teased him for his smile being shark-like, but he certainly feels it now. he feels like an angry animal with prey between its jaws, "you will never understand! do you think an absent mother compares at all to things he did to me?!"

charles attempts to kick him in the knee, but erik is stronger and while he doesn't let go, he does fall forward, pressing himself against charles and the counter. as he goes to start shouting again, he notices charles is shaking. he does not look like a frightened doe as one might expect from a doe-eyed man.

instead, he is defiant. there is fear in his eyes, something old, something that has nothing to do with erik. but in the face of erik's anger, charles does not waiver. his body betrays him, but he holds a brave face, a stalwart indignation like an immovable ship, anchored to a seafloor.

the first time erik had kissed charles, they had been sharing a bed as they went to meet sean. all of the two-bed rooms had been booked which left them with either one of them on the floor or both in the bed. originally, erik had planned to take the floor, but charles had pulled him up into the bed.

"you don't think about me the way most people do," charles whispered, the only light coming the street lamps flickering outside, "i don't mean to pry. i can't help it sometimes."

"what do you mean?"

charles smiled softly, rolling his eyes, "you'd think it very silly i imagine. but you always think my eyes are a different shade of blue. it's like you can't decide how to describe them. but you notice them when you think i'm being particularly clever."

erik had blushed, his very obvious feelings being laid bare by the telepath in bed with him. he had admired charles from the minute they had met. how could he not admire the first man to tell him he wasn't alone? the man who had saved his life?

"it helps that you are usually particularly clever when you're not being particularly foolish," erik managed to reply.

this time charles blushed, looking away. his teeth pierced those already pretty red lips slightly. oh. that bastard. he knew what he was doing.

"are you going to do anything about it if i am?" charles asked, apparently not realizing he was reading erik's thoughts. or, if he did, he clearly did not care.

they were so young then. their powers still felt so fresh and untrained, even when they had more control than most. a few items shuddered at that moment when erik did.

ignoring them, he ran a hand up charles' neck to cup his cheek, "i think i'm going to kiss you."

"oh, i very much hope you do."

kissing charles xavier had been so soft. both of them had considered sex that night, but had instead enjoyed the gift of exploring the other's mouth. later, erik would realize charles had been hoping for this because he tasted particularly like gum. he had pressed kisses along soft lips, nipped until charles' lips were swollen, they had gone for each other until both were breathless.

charles had let out soft little gasps and moans. erik had worshipped his lips, his cheeks, his neck. they were like two demigods, entangled, high priests of the other's temple. erik had wanted to devour charles whole. he'd been smooth, kind, gentle, but mischevious. that moment was a fairytale.

this is not like that.

this was a nightmare. from the minute erik's teeth had clicked against charles' own, he knew that it was. there was none of their old kindness to be had. erik hated charles' scratchy beard. he hated that charles clearly no longer knew what he wanted, instead fighting for dominance of the kiss. erik had at first pulled away only for charles to pull him back, bruise his lips, bite his tongue.

erik presses charles back harder, taking back his tongue and shoving it down charles' throat. he wants to choke him with it, he wants to make sure he can't breathe. their teeth click again when charles mirrors the tilt of his head as they both try to deepen the kiss.

did charles want to suffocate as much as erik hopes to do so?

erik pulls back when charles' breath doesn't stop despite that, tugs fiercely on his lip with his teeth. those paled lips look almost back to their former glory, but he even such ferocity has not revived their blushed hues.

"i hate you," charles whispers, voice cracking, bitter, "i hate you."

"the feeling, old friend," erik snaps mockingly, "is mututal."

they dive back in anyway, charles finally breaking a hand free to claw down erik's back. nail marks redden beneath erik's shirt. the action also earns him a hardening in erik's pants, making him smirk against the larger man's lips. instead of giving him what he's asking for, erik wraps a hand around charles' throat.

"if i did not need you," he snarls before trailing off, "do you know how easy it would be?"

it would not be easy. erik isn't even pressing down against charles' neck. all he is doing is holding it, the grip barely there. but- but it changes something in charles' expression. the fear that had disappeated returns. suddenly nails claw at his hand.

"let go, erik, let go."

"i thought you hated me. didn't you expect this?" asks erik, voice mournful as it settles in once again that charles simply does not know what he thinking. how he could never hurt charles like that again.

"please," charles suddenly begs, voice desperate, "please, erik, let me go."

erik backs away like he's been burned, charles turning quickly on his heels as he gasps for air as if erik had been truly choking him. he's running as best that his legs, still stilted, still obviously not walking the way humans with functional spines walk, can take him. without meaning to, he shoves past hank who has finally emerged for breakfast.

hank looks at erik, "what the fuck did you do?"

[aechii]

getting into a fight with jude then you break up w him , then months later he sees you at a party n still wants you back 🙏🏽🙏🏽

₍₍ SiX FEET UNDER ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! toxic!ex!jude x exgf!reader

GENRE ?! angst

C/W ?! she/her pronouns used, unhealthy relationship, something about writing toxic!jude that has me brainrotting, reader knows her worth, profanity, a small cameo of playboy!trent, drinking (sip responsibly ppl)

A/N ?! i love love love writing toxic!jude, fight me. other than that, plz do enjoy because for once in a while, im liking what i've written <3 [next fic will be a trent one, dwdw]

~°~

"you're not fucking getting me, jude!"

the heat she felt is all encompassing, red, burning fury for a man��� boy, who timelessly strung her along with reins of faded promises and stagnant affection. a piling mountain of 'what could i have done better?' weighed like rocks and bricks, yet if her mother were here, she would've looked on with absent surprise.

she had warned her daughter, begged her even, that men— boys like jude had their words proclaimed as if in the finality of red ink, but their minds basked in a bath of sinful infidelity.

but [y/n] craved love. a feeling she had never encountered fully as it was more of a come and go, never marinating into her flesh and heart. but jude— god, jude, with his heightened charisma and intoxicating smile, had promised to love her from sunrise to sunset, from dusk till dawn.

yet, if those words held any truth, then they wouldn't have stood there, in an air of edged demise.

"listen," jude looked completely uncaring, dragging a hand down his face, "if you can't fucking tell, i'm trying, yeah? and it's not everyday i'm gonna be available."

"i never said i wanted you here everyday, jude," [y/n] cried, frustrated. her bones felt heavy, yet it was the hurt in her chest that blinded every sense of her's.

jude threw his arms in the air, scoffing, "then what the hell d'you want, [y/n]?" his voice resonated with exasperation.

"for you to be 100%, jude, it's not that hard! and if you can't handle a relationship— an exclusive relationship, then don't waste my time!"

they were tipping over at the edge of the cliff, and their fall was inevitable. frankly speaking, [y/n] should've known that their whole... involvement with each other was just a sprint to this foreshadowed end. it started off rocky, and no matter how insistent the red lights were, her eyes were glazed with blatant ignorance.

jude's presence then was like a toxin, accumulating in her muscles and causing every inch of movement to release pain. she needed to leave, with not a turn of her head back, and put jude in her first and only failed attempt of what could've been a blissful experience.

"you know what? i'm done— i can't stand here looking stupid for a boy who doesn't love me the same way," she scoffed, turning on her heel to climb the stairs.

she wished she hadn't had heard it. maybe it would've made her departure easier, that jude, truthfully, cared about her and just had the pieces of his mind misplaced and skewed. that maybe all they needed was space and time to seek and mend before they could try again.

but what she got was like a slap to the face, and the sickening truth that jude was never hers. and never wanted to be hers.

"since you can't understand where i'm coming from for shit, by all means, [y/n], leave."

+_-

the party had been, literally, timeless for jude. he hadn't known for how long he swirled the red cup of [spiked] punch pressed into his hand as he leaned against the door frame and observed the busy bodies that made him stick out like a sore thumb.

it had been months, 3 months, as jude'd been counting, since [y/n] bode her adieu to their relationship, or rather, whatever remnant of it remained. he felt like a disassociated body, existing for the mere fact that he had to, not because he wanted to, and part of him wanted to believe that it was all part of the 'life' experience.

it wasn't.

denial was a vile thing, and everyday, he woke up thinking that their end was her fault, and not his. that whatever they had was a lesson among others, and that he had to move on and find someone else that he could attach his data to.

but he knew, knew that [y/n] was a person that appeared like a blue moon, and soon enough, he found himself lost like a needle in a haystack and regretting. had no one but himself to blame, even his damn brother told him so.

his appearance externally, to those who didn't know what revved inside him, was a continuous ebb and flow from one party to another. whatever he had to do to make him forget was his priority, and if he had to get mind-numbingly drunk to do so, then it was welcomed to be his guest.

it was his 3rd one of the week, by approximation. more or less, he didn't care, nor did he want to know, because recklessness was what seemed more comfortable than guilt and shame, and he was so sure that his body was more alcohol than water. counted his lucky stars that it was the end of the season and so he could do whatever his heart urged him to do. his heart, keyword there.

his darkened mood seemed to have seeped into the room because after hours of remaining stagnant doing nothing, trent walked up to him, identical solo cup in one hand and the other weighing on his shoulder with concern.

"guilt is eating you up, eh?" trent chided, although not as cheerily as expected. jude grunted and took another sip as he huffed out a flippant, "shut up," that had trent throwing his hands up, as best as he could, in defence.

"look- i've been there, done that."

jude looked at him suspiciously, "you've had flings, trent."

"yeah," he shrugged, mellow yet firm, "to forget about her."

"never knew that," jude said with an air of surprise. trent wasn't necessarily the best person to come to in terms of... serious romance, per se.

just as trent went to retort, jude's eyes cast around the room, and zeroed entirely on one hovering figure, meddled with a group of more girls who looked far too merry compared to the one that caused jude's tunneled vision, and before he could stop himself, his mouth punched out a, "fuck."

trent caught whiff of jude's exasperated and frozen countenance, "what?"

it took a whole body and more for jude to respond, "she's here."

then trent's head whizzed around, seeking for the girl whose scarce presence had his friend in complete misery and his line of sight paralleled jude's, "i... did not know she was coming."

"me too," jude said automatically, and as if they had a mind of their own, his feet began to move. trent noticed immediately, and a tough grip wrenched around jude's bicep, "where do you think you're going?"

"to talk to her?" enunciated as if it were a question, but there was an undercurrent of certainty that made trent want to slap jude for his sheer stupidity.

"and do what? beg for her forgiveness as if you did not walk her out your home hand in hand?"

jude scowled at trent's bluntness, "it wasn't like that."

"well it fucking seemed like it," trent chastised.

jude was completely deaf to trent's words by then, as the second she was left alone by the bar, he had an aim. an aim to get her back by the end of the night, and if he didn't, he wouldn't walk out there with all pieces of him intact.

did he need her? yes. and it may have taken him too long to realise, but jude didn't care. it was all part of the 'life' experience.

he managed to slip out of trent's vice grip (who, at that point, had given up drilling pleads into jude. he had to plummet back to reality, one way or another), and by auto-pilot, walk towards [y/n] who has too busy ordering another round of shots to even notice his arrival until his words punctured the air, "hey."

[y/n] spun around. rapidly and in complete shock as her eyes were blown wide. she had wanted to utter everything and nothing at all, but her mouth seemed to malfunction, to both her dismay and relief, so she resolved to a questioning jut of her head forward.

jude nervously scratched the back of his neck, "i uh- how have you been?"

she thought for a few seconds then shook her head conclusively, "as best as i could be, jude."

it may have not been intentional- matter of fact, who had jude been kidding? it was intentional, the icy tinge in her tone and closed off-ness as she settled her stance and crossed her arms. a blank space, gaping and hollow, was left in silence as jude tried to find words to say.

"i'm sorry."

[y/n] looked at him incredulously, "you're sorry?"

jude nodded.

and then she laughed. jude would've blamed it on drunkeness if it hadn't been for the obvious, mocking sarcasm as she stopped and looked at him just as quickly as she started.

"you're funny jude, very funny," she chuckled, turning around to slide a shot glass from the counter, raising it in gratitude to the bartender who gave her a nod back, before patting jude's arm to walk away.

he was delirious by then. in absolute confusion, wondering what he had done to seem so... ridiculous to [y/n]. he had apologised, hadn't he? made sure to make it as geniune as he mouth could mold it and that was enough. it had to be.

he spluttered, reaching out to stop her by her wrist, but, as if his touch were hot, she slapped him away, "don't you fucking touch me, jude."

"i said i'm sorry-"

"and you think that's enough? to do what, jude? get me back?"

he nodded and she laughed again, chesty and completely deprecating.

"you know, let me give you advice jude," her expression submerged jude 6 feet under, it felt like it, "don't date. you're completely shit at it."

jude was definitely 6 feet under.

[fantasticfangirl21]

*materializes into existence*

Hey :D

You said you wanted to write for funzies, so I had a lil idea to share.

Intruloceit in the ever-classic "one is overworking, so the other two coax them into self-care and sleep" trope.

Just a thought.

Have fun :D

Okay, bet, here we go my dude I was actually just about to ask for prompts because Im in a writing mood out of nowhere-

For context, when I write I typically write with the head cannon that Janus has an extra six arms that are invisible to the eye. And with the head cannon that Remus has six tentacles that protrude from his back that he uses to climb around and stick to walls and fun stuff like that. (I also write that Virgil has eight spider legs that also protrude from his back but he's a side character in this one so don't worry about that lol)

WITH ALL OF THIS SAID I BRING TO YOU A FANFIC I WROTE TWO HOURS AT WORK JUST NOW, LOVINGLY ENTITLED:

Always~

It was another night...

Another long night.

But in Logan's defense it has to be. What with the mess of a calendar Thomas has going for the upcoming months SOMEONE has to organize and plan ahead. Roman was pushing him constantly to make new video content, Virgil was stressed about all the events rehearsals and music editing we had to do, Patton was stressed as always for the upcoming holidays.

And don't even get him started on the dark sides... Remus was constantly vying for attention due to Thomas' head being in the mess it was in. With Patton and Virgil on the fritz they made easy targets for his pranks, dreams and ploys on a near daily basis. And Janus- well surprisingly Janus had generally done nothing recently but try to keep Remus as in line as they can... but that didn't mean he wasnt planning something Logan would have to fix later.

Logan grabs the coffee off the side of his desk, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose before rubbing his temples a bit as he sips his coffee... Its a mess. Its always a mess, always a mess Logan has to manage or clean. Everyone always comes to him and interrupts his work with the issues. Patton complaining about fitting time in for Thomas to try cooking before Thanksgiving and Xmas. Virgil complaining about how many events are on the calendar and asking some can be crossed off or avoided. Roman huffing about us not being able to make new content for two weeks.

Constantly. Getting. On. His. Nerves.

Logan doesn't notice the coffee cup shaking in his grip until some spills over the rim and onto his hand, he winces sharply and puts the mug down with a lengthy sigh before snapping paper towels into existence to clean the desk up. He leans to drop the wadded paper towel into the trashcan and startles slightly at how off his body feels at the sudden movement. He drops it into the trasnchan and shifts back to sitting over the desk, waiting on his equilibrium to balance back out again... how may long nights of planning has it been...?

Only one or two right...? But when's the last time he- made an effort to sleep? Hes joined the sides for lunch and dinner each day, and yes their commentary about the bags under his eyes is annoying, but its not particularly out of the ordinary. Logan tends to focus work more in the night hours. It's the only time the mind palace is actually quiet. Save for Remus' midnight snack runs, Janus' late night baths and Virgils occasional insomniac tendency to need warm milk or tea before bed.

Logan glances at the clock on his monitor.

The ungodly hour of 1 am glares back at him. He rubs his eyes and checks again just to be sure... before waving it off.

It doesn't matter, he was nearly done anyway. He picks his coffee back up and sips it, realizing it wasn't quite as hot as he preferred, his thoughts had taken up too much time it seems. He sighs again annoyed before standing- ignoring the mild difficulty in doing so... and walking to his door, with the intent to make a new pot of coffee.

He heads to the kitchen, again a bit startled by how weak he feels in doing so. But he will rest soon enough, he just has to finish up the hourly scheduling of each day for the next three months. Simple.

He stares blankly at the coffee maker, before taking his mug to the sink to rinse and clean out before the pot is done. With the water running its impossible to hear Janus slink slyly into the kitchen behind him.

"Late night~?"

Logan jumps- nearly dropping the ceramic mug into the sink at the sudden voice in his ear, glasses falling askew as he curses under his breath that he's now having difficulty catching.

"Last I checked coffee wasn't the best thing to help one sleep, but I am a liar so what do I know~"

Logan breathes out, setting the clean cup to the side and turning the water off before rounding to make eye contact with the snake.

"Yes well unlike some of you, I have important work to do, so if you don't mind."

Logan moves to step past Janus but is stopped by one of his annoying invisible arms barred in front of him.

"More important than you?"

Janus' voice drops its teasing lilt with the question, which startles Logan mildly.

"Pardon?"

He asks, a bit confused by the question.

"I asked if the work you were doing was more important than you."

Logans confusion must be even more apparent by the clarification because Janus takes it as a cue to continue.

"You're not taking care of yourself. That much is apparent, your appetite has been getting smaller each meal. The bags under your eyes are much larger day by day. You've been getting quieter at gatherings, which is typically an indicator that you're more irritable and don't want to snip at anyone, or that you don't want to be caught or teased for yawning. Also this coffee machine has logged fourteen hours of use in the last week, and no one else here drinks coffee but Patton, who has one cup each morning, with more sugar then coffee. So try to tell me that you're taking care of yourself, I dare you."

Janus waits, watching Logans reaction carefully, surprise gently easing into his eyes whilst his face stays generally blank. Janus can tell he's caught the wise side off guard, two invisible hands reach past Logan to pick up and dry his coffee mug, before placing it on the kitchen island behind their back. Logan seems at a loss for words, so Janus shifts the arm barring his escape away from the nerd.

"Why don't you head back to your room~ and go change for me. Ill bring you some tea in a few minutes or so."

This time Logan seems to wake from his confusion a bit.

"I can't- I have work to finish."

Logan hates how weak the excuse sounds on his tongue. He knows the sides notice when he is working harder then usual... but typically they all leave him be. The light sides do anyway...

"You're finished working for today. Back to your room." Janus' tone is soft, perhaps softer then he's ever heard it... It feels safe. Comforting for some reason. Just the cadence of his voice makes his eyelids a bit heavier... he nods numbly a little... and slowly starts his walk back to his room, caught in a bit of a daze as he moves down the hall... entering his room- He stops... in the threshold staring puzzled at the state of his room.

It looks nice... his room had been a bit too messy for his liking recently... The bed is made up, his starlight is on, its a projector that mimics the stars patters on his walls. Not only that but his desk is both tidy and his computer is off. His eyebrows pinch in confusion... he could have sworn when he went to the kitchen he left it o-

"POOPY!!"

Logan jumps once more with a rather embarrassing 'eep' noise this time as Remus jumps down from the ceiling and lands in front of him.

"Aweeeeee that was adorablleeeeee do it again!!"

Logan blushes with embarrassment and pushes past the obnoxious side to further himself into the room.

"No I will not be doing it again. You know that no one is allowed in my room with permission Remus. Get out immediately, I need to change."

Remus swings over with a sharp grin and wiggles his eyebrows as he descends the ceiling again dropping in front of Logan as he ruffles the smart sides hair.

"Well now I wanna stay even more~"

He teases with a fiendish grin, tentacles wriggling from his back excitedly at the prospect of seeing Logan change. Logan weirdly finds himself stuck on the fact that Remus ruffled his hair- and he didn't hate it... Logan rolls his eyes irritably, snapping from his stupor and shifts to his closet past the Duke, who stays annoyingly close to him the whole time.

"Do you actually need something? Or are you just here to annoy me now."

Logan grumps, grabbing his clothes from the closet and moving to his bathroom to avoid the dukes prying eyes. Remus attempts to follow into the bathroom, but Logan shuts the door in his face before he can, getting dressed in peace.

"Im here to make sure you're listening to Jannyyyy, because you like to overwork and overwhelm yourself until you can't function anymore."

Logan sighs deeply, lovely he has a babysitter.

"Mm, and who told you that."

Logan asks, knowing who but not wanting to let the duke go silent. Its always scarier when you can't here where Remus' voice is coming from. That's when he gets the element of surprise on you for a jump scare.

"Double Dick Deceit did of course~" Logan cringes as he buttons up his silk pajamas... gross. Though anomalistically accurate, snakes do in face hack two dicks... as gross as it is to know Janus is the same it is interesting that his anatomy is accurate to a- wait focus. Logan freezes slightly, listening for Remus- shit.

"SHIT ON A DICK!"

Remus emerges from the toilet and Logan finds the same annoying noise escapes him as Remus startles him once more. He exhales sharply in frustration as the duke giggles giddily at the sound from Logan. The intelligent side tosses his clothes irritably at Remus' face as he opens the door to leave the bathroom.

"Go back into the sewage where you belong Duke, I don't need a babysitter. I can follow instructions just like anyone else."

He grumbles, making his way back to his laptop, that is before Remus drops down between him and his desk, dripping in... what Logan hopes is clean toilet water.

"No can do~ I was told to stay with you until Snakey gets back!"

Logan can't help but notice how childish Remus is acting. In comparison to his onscreen behavior, or his behavior with the other sides he's being rather... Puppyish.

"Mmm-hmm... Is there a reason you're acting- different?"

Logan asks, apprehensively. Honestly not sure if he wants the answer... perhaps Remus was attempting to lull him into a false sense of security? Or trick him in some way shape or form...? Logan wasn't exactly sure what to expect as Remus' response to the question but what Logan doesn't expect, is Remus' cheeks to pinken and him to look away. Before Logan can inquire further there are two soft knocks on the open doorway, swaying his attention. He turns around to see Janus walking in, tea floating beside him and a container of sugar floating beside it.

"Am I interrupting something~?"

Janus asks playfully, Logan huffs slightly at the notation, missing the way Remus blushes further before ducking back into the bathroom to dry off.

"No. Your babysitter was simply doing his job."

Janus seems amused by the characterization of Remus as he makes his way to bed, patting beside him for Logan to take a seat as well.

"Yesss well, I couldn't exactly trust you not to go back to your work the moment I left now could I."

Logan scoffs a bit amused himself now.

"Trust is a rich word coming from you, Deceit."

Janus hums with a smirk gently shifting an invisible hand to Logans back after he sits down. Janus' smirk softens a bit fonder as Logan falters mildly at the touch, a clear immediate disconnect between his thoughts at the gentle brush of fingers up and down his back. Logans posture starts to slump just barely, before he tries to righten it again, his eyes dipping down a bit as his head tilts forward. A gloved hand catches his chin, brushing under it fondly with a gentle hum as he lifts the logical sides sleepy gaze to his.

"It is isn't it~"

Deceit purrs in response, watching silently as the light side practically crumples at the light positive attention. Though something about the ease of it begins to bother him. Well, rather, has always bothered him. Logans reaction to soft touch, and affirmation is always a drastic one. It's nearly as if he rarely gets affection.

Janus knows that Patton is a touchy person, that much is clear with the cuddles he gives Virgil and the constant hugs and kisses he gives roman. Shamelessly in front of everyone else at that... but strangely enough, since Remus and Janus have been here or perhaps earlier then that, no such soft touch is offered to Logan. Janus had first assumed that it was in private, seeing as Logan was a rather private person and likely didn't want others to see when he was receiving attention. But after some time, something compelled Janus to inquire to Virgil about it.

Virgils response was simple, "Logan doesn't like touch. He makes it clear no one is to be in his personal space or in his room so- why would he be okay with touch...?" And while Virgils response wasn't a mean one or said in a rough way Janus felt wounded by it. Because if this was the case, then Logan has likely been touch starved since entering his existence in the mind palace at all.

A purred hum in front of him snaps Janus from his thoughts... finding that Logan is nearly entirely slumped over in his grasp now. A puddle in his hands... his eyes blissfully shut and his worry lines for once uncreased. Janus chuckles softly before gently shifting Logans head back up, his eyes blink open wearily the soft open ness of them catching the deceitful side off guard. Janus blushes mildly before swallowing it back down and using his multiple arms to adjust Logan into a sitting position against the headboard of the bed. Remus peeks out of the bathroom behind where Logan is sitting now, and beckons Janus quickly. Janus carefully picks up the tea, now cooled a bit more before handing it to Logan.

"Here, sip it carefully, Ill be back in just a moment."

Janus' heart twists at the immediate drop in Logans eyes as he pulls his hand away from bushing over him. The sleepy side obediently sipping at his tea with downcast eyes. Janus heads quickly to join Remus in the restroom, he immediately is met with pleading puppy eyes though and instantly knows he can't fight them.

"Pleaseeee- can we please stay ??? Please he's too tired to remember- and we can be out by morning before he wakes up- I won't do anything sexual I promise!! I just wanna cuddle the nerddd- he looked like a lost little rat when I ruffled his hairrrr-"

Janus hisses quietly with a finger to his mouth, ordering Remus to quiet down some... before sighing softly... mmm. If they stay, there's a chance Logans lack of memory will make him more untrusting of them... If he wakes and they were not only in his room but cuddling him in his bed... he is going to think he was seduced in his sleep and never trust us again. Not that he does currently. But.. Janus' head kept going back to that look. The one in his eyes when he pulled away. A lump forms in Janus' throat and looking into Remus pleading eyes again he knew he couldn't rationalize a way out of this one. Angry at them or not... Logan needed it. He needed the positive attention... more than he knew. Remus could read Janus' expression before the snake could even utter the words of defeat. The octopus lighting up excitedly and buzzing with energy as he was about to bound back into the room. Janus' hand shot out to close line the side before laying down rules.

"No. Sexual advances. No jokes about it in the morning. No secreting slime in your sleep. And absolutely NO loud noises. Anything like that may scare him away and ensure he never trusts us again. Meaning we won't be allowed in his room, nor anywhere near him. Ever. Again."

Remus huffs a little and pouts some...

"Well all that sounds a little over the top dramatic- but as long as we get to cuddle the nerd- I don't care- ill be a good little bitch boy~"

Janus can't stop the small excited smile from spreading on his face, letting his arm down for Remus to reenter the room, surpassingly already following the quiet rule. Janus closes the door to the bathroom and eases into the room behind Remus, Remus goes to the bedroom door and closes it carefully, while Janus makes his way back to Logans side on the bed. The logical side is staring dazedly at the stars on the wall in front of him, sipping at the last bit of the tea in the cup by the time they reenter the room.

Remus moves to the opposite side of the bed and scoots under the covers, Janus shoots him a glare and he stops there, not getting too close to Logan just yet. They don't want to scare him. Surprisingly he doesn't seem to notice, Logan looks completely dazed as he finally manages to fix his eyes on Janus, Janus notices the way those dark grey eyes light ever so slightly at seeing the half snake side again. Janus blushes slightly and takes the cup from Logan as he finishes the tea... Janus shifts Logan carefully with his arms down into the bed, laying down now rather then sitting, and carefully removes the sides glasses for him.

"I hope you don't mind, but Remus and I are going to stay to ensure you rest well. Were not here to babysit, just here to ensure you don't wake up at four am and convince yourself that two hours of sleep is enough."

Janus teases with a playful smile, Logan chuckles a bit, clearly more then a little delirious now that his body is giving out on him. Janus brushes a hand through the sides hair, watching as his pretty eyes nearly immediately fall half open and crossed. Janus finds himself chuckling lightly, before shifting Logan more center on the bed, and nodding at Remus. The green side immediately wraps Logan up in his thick arms, pressing him into the warmth of his body while Janus arranges himself on Logans other side, slipping an arm under Logans neck and draping his other arms over Logans body to gently brush over it. Invisible fingers gently tracing at his neck, chest, hair, down his arms and over his face.

The sleep starved side sinks into the sheets, clearly comforted by the warmth of the two other bodies present. His own hands fumble slightly, looking to find one of Janus' succeeding eventually whilst his other hand comes to rest gently on Remus' arm around him. Only then does he seem comfortable enough to fall asleep. Remus preens at the fact that Logan touched him on purpose and Janus smiles at the joy in the sides gaze. Then, breaking the tranquil silence is a voice, muddled with sleep and fatigue... but also an overwhelming amount of desperation, rarely heard in the sides voice.

"Are you going to stay...?"

Both Remus and Janus are taken aback by that... glancing at each other before down at Logan. His eyes still closed... expression still peaceful... one could think he didn't say a word. Remus leans down first... kissing Logans hair.

"Yeah pocket protector... we're not going anywhere." Then Logan does something the other two have never seen directed towards them... rarely even towards the other sides.

He smiles...

Soft...

Genuine...

Calm...

And completely relieved.

"Goodnight..."

He murmurs afterward... actually seeming to slip off to sleep this time. Janus watches him carefully, before sighing softly... smiling before kissing the sides forehead...

"Sleep well... we will be right here. Always..."

They knew he wouldn't remember this when he awoke. But they didn't mind. If they had to keep reminding Logan they loved him they would.

Always~

[anyasathenaeum]

*KICKS DOWN DOOR* YOU ASK FOR ERIKS AND I SHALL INDULGE ok so what im gonna need is some where the reader thinks Vash (they were dating before everything went to shit) is dead until they blow into town with Woofboy and they do the whole Recognition thing yknow. Ok and so after all the Bad Shit gets dealt with and they have a moment alone to talk, he thinks that they're not gonna be in love with him anymore after all this time and might even be pissed at him for sort of "abandoning" them but they just express nothing but joy at having him back in their arms again and how they're soulmates and sappy stuff like that and its very sweet and emotional and raw because they missed each other so so much. And if you sprinkled just a little spice at the end I wouldn't mind cuz the long hair and stubble is so sexy on that man. Maybe it would be great part 2 bait idk I don't wanna put too much on you. Might be best to play that by ear.

Sorry this is so long I got excited when I saw ur post ily bye.

Across Time and Space (Part 1)

A/N: HECK YEAH ANON I AM SO HERE FOR THIS. ERIKS!VASH HURT COMFORT LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I'm mostly going off of 98!Eriks with some Stampede!Eriks mixed in hehe and this is gonna have to be split into 2 parts because I'm INSPIRED. This part is mostly set up and some hurt in the hurt/comfort part of things. :P Read the continuation in part 2 here!

Pairing: Eriks!Vash x reader

Warnings: Some slight violence, mention of nudity, literally just going off episode 18 of Trigun so potential spoilers, potential spoilers for episode 12 of Trigun Stampede, the "hurt" part of "hurt/comfort"

You brought your hand up to shield your eyes from the glaring sunlight as the tiny town came into view, the bus you were on finally arriving after what felt like an eternity and a half.

"Remind me again why we chose to come to this tiny town, Wolfwood," You grumbled under your breath, grabbing your backpack and strapping it to your back as you started to get ready to disembark from the bus.

"Cause we gotta see if we can find the Humanoid Typhoon here," The priest replied, shooting you a smile that you couldn't bring yourself to return.

"Vash is dead, Wolfwood," You snapped back, your heart tightening in your chest as you said his name for what felt like the first time in forever, "He's dead, and we're not finding him."

Wolfwood just stayed silent, watching you carefully as you let out a deep sigh, rubbing your face with your hands, trying desperately to brush off the pain that the mere thought of Vash had brought you.

Wolfwood wasn't a fool - he knew you and Vash had been in love with each other. He knew that you and Vash were more than friends, that Vash was everything to you. Wolfwood remembered how you seemed to stop living after the disaster in the city of July, when the city was turned into a crater and Vash was nowhere to be found. You had watched the man you loved fall from the sky and the city cave in on itself in a massive explosion of energy - there was no way Vash could've survived that.

When Vash died, so did you. You existed, sure - you walked and talked and drank and ate, but you had stopped living. It was heartbreaking to watch - both Wolfwood and Meryl couldn't stand to see you so broken, but nothing they did could bring Vash back. And so, you became silent, closed-off, and you never smiled anymore.

"I'm sorry, Wolfwood. I just... don't see the point in hoping for what can't be," You apologized, your voice quiet as you stared down at the floor, your heart aching in your chest as Vash's smiling face appeared in your mind.

Wolfwood sighed a bit and just stepped forward, throwing his arm around your shoulder casually. However, when he spoke, his tone was surprisingly gentle.

"It's okay. You're still hurting, (Y/N). Let's just get off this bus and settle in, yeah?"

You nodded, pulling up your hood to cover your head as you followed Wolfwood off the bus, shoving through all the people who were fighting to get on the bus you had just arrived on.

"What the hell is all that about?" You muttered, glancing at Wolfwood in confusion as you both watched the crowd of people swarming the bus, many of them shouting at the driver to let them on.

"No clue, but I have a feeling we'll find out real soon," Wolfwood replied, his shades glistening in the sunlight as he turned his head, gesturing towards a building not too far away, "Let's start at the saloon. If anybody's got information, they'll likely be there."

You just nodded and followed Wolfwood, keeping your head down and your face hidden - you didn't feel like starting a conversation with anybody who recognized you as new to the town.

However, that plan immediately went out the window the moment you and Wolfwood stepped foot into the saloon, as you suddenly found every person in the saloon pointing their guns at the two of you. You let out a stifled yelp and threw your hands up, your heart beating fast in your chest. You heard Wolfwood let out a small sound just like you had, his hands up in the air, too, sweating slightly as he glanced around.

Thankfully, after a few seconds, the townsfolk decided you weren't a threat and lowered their weapons. With that, you and Wolfwood slowly approached the bar, and you could hear Wolfwood chatting with the bartender. As he did, you walked over to the window of the saloon, gazing at the people walking by and watching the mob chasing after the bus you had arrived on.

'Man, what a weird place,' You thought to yourself, 'Feels so tense here.'

Suddenly, you watched the ground near the bus explode, sending people flying through the air and causing Wolfwood to exclaim, "What happened over there?"

The bartender explained that the town was overrun with bandits, and then you heard the name "Vash the Stampede" escape his lips and your heart just about stopped in your chest. However, you immediately recognized that the kind of violence being orchestrated by this gang being run by "Vash the Stampede" was everything Vash opposed. There was no way this was Vash's doing.

'Like it matters, he's been dead for almost two years anyway,' You thought to yourself bitterly, your mouth pressing into a thin line. You weren't listening to whatever the bartender was telling Wolfwood, but you found yourself glancing over at the entrance as you heard the door swing open.

All the patrons immediately had their guns pointing at the intruders, which in this case, happened to be a tall man with long, blonde hair wearing glasses, holding a young girl with short, brown hair in what almost looked like a chokehold. You found yourself reaching for your own weapon, readying to fight the man until you heard the girl speak.

"Uh oh. Hey, what's the big idea you guys?!"

You jumped a little at how loud she was, and you heard the patrons mumbling to themselves, "Oh, it's only Lina."

"What do you mean "only Lina"?! Let go of me, Eriks!" The young girl, Lina, shouted, freeing herself from the grasp of the tall, blonde man who simply let her go and watched her walk towards the bar, his expression surprised.

"Lina, what's the big hurry?" The bartender asked as the girl walked over, standing right next to you and Wolfwood. You studied the girl carefully, deciding that she couldn't be older than 12 at the most.

'She's very brave, I gotta give her that,' You thought to yourself, your lip twitching upwards a bit.

"I was wondering if you could hide me somewhere," Lina asked, a sheepish smile on her face as she asked.

The bartender looked a bit concerned as he inquired, "What did you do this time?"

"She doesn't know when to quit."

You jumped out of your skin at the sudden, new voice - the tall, blonde man, Eriks, had walked up to the bar without you noticing. You physically jumped, your hood falling from your head and revealing your face, not that it mattered - you weren't trying to hide anymore.

"Oh, sorry! Did I scare yo-?" Eriks began to apologize, turning to look at you as he did so, but his sentence died in his mouth as he looked at your face, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"It's okay," You let out a jittery half-chuckle, just trying to recollect yourself, "I just didn't hear you walk up to the bar, just startled me a bit."

Eriks didn't say a word - he just continued to look at you, his eyes almost owlishly wide. You couldn't decode the expression on the man's face, and you began to feel uncomfortable at the level of intensity in his gaze.

"Um... is something wrong?" You asked, your voice making it clear that you were becoming uncomfortable.

That was enough to snap Eriks out of whatever stupour he was in, with him shaking his head a bit as though trying to clear it, his tone a bit embarrassed, "S-Sorry! No, nothing's wrong, you just... you look like somebody I knew once."

You found yourself wanting to smile a bit, but the words struck pain into your heart again and you just nodded, your lips pressing into a thin line once again.

"I see."

The man, Eriks, let out a nervous laugh before extending his hand to you for you to shake, "I'm Eriks. Sorry about startling you...?"

It was clear he was asking for your name. You just extended your hand and took his, shaking it firmly, "(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

You thought you felt Eriks' grip on your hand falter for half a moment, but you brushed it off - probably nothing of note.

"N-Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Eriks replied, his voice breaking slightly. He was evidently very, very nervous.

"Are you okay?" You asked bluntly, "You look ready to pass out."

Eriks just nodded before letting your hand go, "Y-Yeah! I'm good, I'm fine. Just, um... Lina's in trouble."

You didn't entirely buy that sudden excuse, but you decided to go with it, "Uh oh, what did she do?"

That's when you heard Lina explaining that she thumped a bandit across the face and that the bandit was coming after her.

"What are you telling me?" The bartender asked, his voice full of worry and his expression becoming one of horror, "Oh, my dear..."

"Yeah... I'm afraid so," Lina confirmed, leaning on the bar with a sad expression on her face, "And they weren't real happy about it. But, at least I don't think they saw me come in here."

The bartender immediately began to yell, and before you had a second to process what was happening, the wall next to you exploded, causing you to cry out as you got thrown across the room.

"Hey... I wasn't done eating yet," You heard Wolfwood complain, and you groaned as you sat up from the floor where you'd landed. You could've laughed at the image of Wolfwood holding his knife and fork over his plate, which was now crushed by a piece of broken wall.

"(Y/N)! You okay?"

You looked up to see Eriks standing above you, offering you his hand to help you up, which you took gladly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," You replied, brushing yourself off as you got to your feet, wincing slightly as your back ached from the impact, "I'm probably badly bruised, but I don't think anything's broken."

The look of relief on Eriks' face didn't feel like it matched what it should've been for a stranger he had just met - he looked relieved as he would look if you had been one of his closest friends. It was weird.

However, before you had a moment longer to think about it all, you heard yelling coming from outside the bar - the bandit who Lina had hit, yelling to give her up or that he'd shoot again if they didn't.

You grit your teeth, anger surging through your body - how dare this bandit threaten a child? She may be feisty and fiery, but she was still just a child. You grabbed your weapon and began to walk towards the hole in the wall, but somebody stopped you in your tracks, putting their arm out in front of you - Eriks.

"No, wait. Let me handle this," He spoke, his voice quiet but very sure. A surge of familiarity coursed through you - where had you heard this before? That tone... that calmness... it unsettled you as you knew you'd heard it before, but where? You couldn't pin it.

That split second of you being thrown off by the sudden feeling of déjà-vu was all Eriks needed before he walked out of the bar, his hands in the air, trying to appease the bandit and stop him from doing further damage to anybody or anything.

"Wolfwood," You mumbled, coming up to the priest, "Is it just me, or does Eriks feel... familiar to you?"

The priest just looked at you carefully, "Familiar? Familiar how?"

"I don't know," You confessed, "Just... the way he spoke to me just now reminded me of-"

Your eyes widened and your words died on your lips as you realized exactly who Eriks had reminded you of.

Vash.

You didn't need to say anything - Wolfwood could see the immediate look of shock on your face, the realization dawning on you. You could feel your breathing picking up and your heart rate was starting to go through the roof - why did Eriks sound so much like Vash? Hadn't you suffered enough? To lose Vash once was agony. But to be reminded of him now? It was unbearable.

"Woah, (Y/N), woah, calm down, breathe. You need to breath."

You could hear Wolfwood's words, but you couldn't understand them, couldn't process them. You were bordering on a full-blown panic attack. The world suddenly became quieter, all sounds muted, as though you were underwater. You couldn't process anything else going on around you right now. All you could do was stumble to your feet and run to the hole in the wall of the saloon, your eyes landing on the blonde man who reminded you so much of the love of your life.

You didn't really understand what was happening - you could vaguely hear the tones and timbre of Eriks' voice and the voice of the bandit, but you couldn't make out the words. You watched as Eriks bowed to the bandit all the way to the ground, trying to apologize on Lina's behalf and diffuse the situation, but it apparently hadn't been enough.

The bandit yelled something at Eriks, to which he apparently agreed. To your surprise, you watched as Eriks suddenly... began to take off his clothes?

"W-What?" You mumbled, not understanding what was happening. All you could make out was the sound of Lina crying next to you, and Wolfwood comforting her as Eriks defended her, even at the cost of his pride.

When you looked back at Eriks, you suddenly felt as though you had been hit by a truck.

Those scars... that body... the missing arm replaced with a prosthetic...

All you heard before the ground came up to meet you and the world went black around you was the sound of Wolfwood exclaiming your name - "(Y/N)!".

You don't know how long you'd been unconscious for, but when you found yourself waking up, you didn't recognize your surroundings. You were in a rather large room, laying on what could've only been a hospital bed, right next to a large window. There were no other beds or patients in the room with you - it was just you. And-

"Morning, sweetheart."

You jumped, turning to see Wolfwood sitting at your bedside, a smirk on his face as his cigarette dangled between his lips crookedly.

"W-Wolfwood," You spoke, your voice strained, "W-What-?"

"You dropped like a stone," Wolfwood explained, standing from his chair and walking over to sit right next to you on your bed, "You saw Eriks' scars and I guess the realization of who he was was just too much for you to handle. Can't say I'm surprised, it's not every day you learn that supposedly dead love of your life isn't actually dead."

Wolfwood just grinned at you, but you just sat there, unmoving, eyes staring forward like you were a statue, not really seeing whatever you were looking at. The memories of what had preceded your passing out came back to you in flashes, and before Wolfwood could continue speaking, you were suddenly sobbing as you had never sobbed before.

All the pain, the sadness, the grief, the loneliness, the feeling of having part of you missing for so long overwhelmed you, making you feel every bit of emotion you had been repressing over the past two years. You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, crying your eyes out as you buried your face into your knees, unable to comprehend what was happening. Surely you were dead, or dreaming, because there was no way that Vash was really alive.

Unless...

"I'll leave you be," You heard Wolfwood say gruffly, before he stood up, patting your back and leaving you alone to confront your emotions.

After that, Wolfwood walked over to another patient's room - that of Eriks, or rather, Vash the Stampede. He had already spoken to Vash earlier, telling him about the fact that Millions Knives was still at large, but now... this was going to be a very different conversation.

Wolfwood didn't even bother knocking, just letting himself right into Vash's room, walking over to where the blonde young man sat in his bed.

"You know, I'm surprised you didn't straight up kill (Y/N)," Wolfwood started, a small smirk on his face as he sat next to Vash, who was just watching him carefully. He watched Vash's expression become one of concern the moment your name left Wolfwood's lips.

"What do you mean?" Vash asked, eyebrows furrowing at Wolfwood's statement - the last Vash saw of you was when he stopped you from taking on the bandit yourself, and you were fine, then.

Wolfwood sighed, "(Y/N) saw your scars, Stampede. It was too much for them to handle and they passed out cold. Smacked their head pretty bad on the way down, but that was my bad, I didn't expect them to go down."

"What?!" Vash exclaimed, his blue eyes widening in worry. He immediately began to try to get out of his bed, but Wolfwood stopped him.

"(Y/N)'s spent the last two years grieving you, Vash. They believed you were dead. This is a bigger shock than you know. They heard nothing from you and the last thing they saw of you was when July city imploded on itself."

Vash's eyes somehow managed to widen even more, and tears were beginning to well in them as Wolfwood explained the situation to him. Wolfwood told him everything he knew - about how you'd essentially become a living statue, not truly living beyond basic existence, about how broken you'd become, how closed-off and sad you were now. You'd been changed so badly that neither Vash nor Wolfwood were really sure if you'd ever rebound from this.

By the time Wolfwood was done explaining, Vash found himself crying silently, his heart torn to pieces at the thought of what this had done to you.

"They loved you more than anything, Vash," Wolfwood stated quietly, standing up as he went to take his leave for the second time that day, "I think you owe them an explanation and a very big apology."

With that, Wolfwood left Vash to his own thoughts, just as he had done to you earlier.

Vash sat there, just replaying everything Wolfwood had told him in his mind. He was telling the truth, Vash knew - he had seen the look on your face when he initially saw you as Eriks. Vash had been so taken aback by you when he took a good look at your face - you looked so much like yourself, but simultaneously so different.

Your face had new scars, and lines engraved in your skin from frowning and worrying rather than from smiling, as you used to in the past. Your expression was tired and somewhat empty, even as you greeted him, and your tone was dull and serious. And your eyes...

Tears began to course down Vash's cheeks freely, soft sobs escaping from his throat as pain jolted through him as he recalled your eyes.

Your eyes were utterly lifeless. Like you had died in every way except physically.

Vash had had to restrain himself from gasping loudly, sobbing his heart out and begging you for forgiveness when he'd looked at you for the first time in two years. He had wanted nothing more than to pull you into his embrace as he used to do before July then and there, but when you failed to recognize him, Vash knew that he couldn't do that to you.

'There's no way they still love me now,' Vash thought to himself, his pain intensifying and his cries becoming louder as he sobbed into his hands, 'I've destroyed them, too.'

You were the love of Vash's life. Nobody ever meant more to him than you did, and after the destruction of July city... Vash couldn't face you. He was a murderer, while you were innocent, pure, and good. He couldn't bring himself to look for you, or try to reach out to you, because he had wanted to keep you safe. Especially now that his bounty was 60 billion double dollars and everybody was hunting for him.

But when he saw you in that saloon... and he saw how damaged you'd become... he realized that he'd done had been wrong. So, so wrong. You'd loved him all that time, to the point where his supposed death broke you beyond repair, and it was all Vash's fault. In trying to protect you, he'd been the one to hurt you worse than anybody ever had before.

And now, he had to find the strength to face you. But how could he?

"Your gun! Give me your gun, hurry!"

Vash suddenly heard the frantic, panicked voice of Lina's grandmother, Grandma Sheryl, coming from downstairs. He focused in, wiping the tears off his face as he listened.

"It's Lina, they got her!"

The arguing continued, and Vash knew what he had to do then. Once he'd rescued Lina, he'd talk to you. He'd face you, and finally pay for his mistake.

As Vash dressed and exited his room, he found Wolfwood standing there, leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his lips once more.

"They got (Y/N), too, it seems like," Wolfwood stated, looking surprisingly calm despite having to deliver terrible news, "Guess they thought (Y/N) was a worthy hostage."

Vash's eyes widened, and his gaze hardened slightly, his heart twisting hard in his chest at the thought of you in danger - despite the two years that had passed, Vash still loved you more than anything in his life, and he still sought to protect you. He had thought of you every day, wondering where you were, what you were up to, if you'd missed him...

He had to rescue you and Lina as soon as possible.

With his teeth gritted and his gun holstered, Vash headed out with Wolfwood trailing in his wake.

"Then, let's go get them."

Wolfwood just smirked.

"There's the Stampede I used to know."

[anurst]

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: the moment of truth. Can you and Bradley work out your differences?

A/n: oml im so sorry for the long wait. i just kind dropped off the face of the earth. i didnt really have any motivation to write but now i'm back! this chap is kinda short but another will be posted on Tuesday :D

Warning(s): angst, estranged family

Part 9: Sometimes I wish I was 10

Before Jake, you never really fully believed in cloud nine. Now though, as you giddily walk through the halls of camp, your body tingles with newfound excitement. Electricity practically flows through your veins.

"I take it the date went well?" Amy's voice comes from behind you. Normally, you would have chastised her for sneaking up on you, but for now, you just smile as your cheeks slightly redden. Amy's smile widens even more as she latches onto your arm. "Oh my gosh! You have to tell me everything! And, I MEAN everything!" The both of you giggle as you push open the door to the gym.

The rest of your team turns to the pair of you and it's no secret that they're curious about your date. Carlos certainly isn't subtle as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jensen's the only one (besides Amy) who vocally asks you how you went. Just as you're about to recount last night's events, the doors swing open and a panting Bradley stands there.

Silence spreads for a couple seconds as Bradley gathers his breath. Offering a shaky smile, he rubs at the back of his neck. "Sorry for, uh, barging in, but I'm here to talk to Braidy."

When Nolan clears his throat, you roll your eyes and turn to face Jensen again. "We'll give you two a minute," he says and your eyes widen. No way he was actually going to leave you alone with Bradley?

Jensen gives you a small pat on the shoulder as your team shuffles by and out of the gym. The door closes behind them and each step that Bradley takes towards you seems to get louder.

Your fists clenched tightly together as you will yourself not to turn around. Turning around means acknowledging that Bradley's standing less than five feet away from you. The brother who abandoned you and seemingly forgot your existence bites his lip as he tries to find the right words. "(y/)– Braidy, please just hear me out."

"What if I don't want to?" 'Idiot, why'd you respond?'

"I'll keep finding you and repeating what I'm going to say. I'll keep apologizing until the world stops spinning. I know that sorry doesn't make up for the years of pain I put you through. That sorry won't just magically fix us. That it won't undo all the words I said. But, please Braidy, at least let me make it up to you."

Make it up to you? What if there's nothing that can be done? What if you're finally done with Bradley and that painful chapter of your life?

"I don't care Bradley. I don't want to fix us."

"Braidy, you're my sister–"

"SO I WASN'T YOUR SISTER BACK THEN?" you yell before you can properly think. There's a heavy burn in your chest and a part of you think it'll burst any moment. Every breath you take feels as though you're inhaling smoke. Your eyes meet Bradley's and the suffocating feeling vanishes.

You feel like you're ten again. A fifteen-year-old Bradley wipes the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. One hand comes up to ruffle at your hair and he quietly cooes at you to stop crying. Soft reassurances of 'everything is gonna be okay' repeat after one another as more tears fall.

The calm and warm reassurance that Bradley constantly provided for you returns and it scares you. It scares you that after so much pain and heartbreak, Bradley can still make you feel so warm with just a simple look.

It's almost as though nothing has changed and time hasn't past. And if you're completely honest, that thought doesn't invoke any fear. Because right now, in this moment as you stare into your brother's eyes, you wish you were ten again.

Bradley slowly lifts a hand to wipe at the tear that rolls down your cheek. His other hand wrap around the back of your head and brings you closer. Soft whispers come from Bradley's lips but you hardly hear them over your sobs.

"Everything's going to be okay. Just let me make it up to you."

"…You can’t…” you whisper as you push yourself out of Bradley's arms. Furiously wiping at your cheeks, your arms wrap around your torso as you direct your gaze to the floor. "I can't even look at you, Bradley. Every time that I do, I'm just reminded of the worst event of my life. I don't think you can make it up to me, so just, please, leave me alone." You take a step back and swallow the lump at the back of your throat. "I'm happy with the life I've made. I'm happy with my friends and family. I appreciate you apologizing, but I don't accept it."

Before Bradley can say anything, you quickly turn and walk out of the gym. Weirdly enough, the weight returns and it feels like you can't breathe. Walking away from Bradley might be the wrong decision, you think. But, that doesn't stop you from continuing down the halls.

Taglist: @potato-girl99981 @callsign-cacti @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina @krismdavis @phantomxoxo @piceous21 @laneyspaulding19 @multifandomfangirll @moron-says-what @rhirhikingston @startrekfangirl2233 @mightiestheroes @gizmodear @meritxellao @adaydreamaway

[howlsofbloodhounds]

me and my butter fingers, did i forget to turn on anon again??? (T_T)

talking about frisk/chara/the player in the context of stories and aus is really fun! i saw a really funny art post on twitter (i don't remember the link...) that depicts the player in three aus where the murder time trio comes from and they're friends. something new!player is a dedicated hacker, dusttale!player is a 100% achievements player, and horrortale!player is a loser/quitter. it's quite fun to see them interact with each other in "real life" not knowing that the games they play are actual universes/worlds out there, but then considering what the aus become... this kind of tone dissonance between the "real life world" and the aus is quite interesting. i don't see many people actually depict stories with the player as a core character/force/mechanism. i think a story from the player's (or multiple players') point-of-view would be very funny, in a dark humour kind of way.

~ crowshipping anon, on brainstorming mood

Yeah you did 👍. Im glad I caught it in time, I almost didn’t 😭.

The only fanfic I can think of involving a player was a Deltarune fanfic from Noelle’s POV. I don’t remember everything about it, but I do remember that Noelle realizes that Kris isn’t Kris, somehow gains the ability to Reset (I forget how), and had to face off against the player and save Kris without letting the player know. Something along those lines.

But honestly picturing Horrortale, Dustale, and Something New Player being friends is honestly amazing to me.

Like, Dustale is screaming and seething when Sans kills them, hooting and hollering whenever they manage to kill sans and earn more achievements.

Something New Player’s over here cooking up new ways to make the game more interesting, and I can imagine just how fascinated they were with Killer. Imagine all the potential prompts that could exist to interact with Killer? There definitely had to have been moments where they just kept clicking that “poke” and “examine” or “touch” button. Telling him to do the most strange things or depraved things, having him stand somewhere in stress positions for hours.

I like to imagine the Something New Player has a very perverted fondness towards killer, he’s their greatest creation, and they love talking about him to their friends at every chance. but maybe they always dog on smthn new player cuz of their edgy hacked oc.

And meanwhile horrortale player, the quitter they are, is probably only interested in undertale still because their friends keep yapping about these creepypasta-esque versions of the game lmao.

[azullumi]

fatui!scara with a son and his wife? (req)

summary — he had never thought that he would come to that part in his life wherein he has something he wishes to protect more than his heart, more than the ambitions that he hold.

pairing — wanderer or scaramouche/female!reader

tags — fluff, established relationship, domestic life ; headcanons

words — 714

note — hellooooo it seems like my schedule of uploading 1 fic each day is going to be delayed or put on pause for like a few weeks because im in a cultural performance for our school :DD anyways! here, i hope you'll like this anon!

Scaramouche had never thought once in his life that he will be looking forward to something at the end of the day, to have himself giddy and anxious throughout the whole time as he accomplishes his missions or sits behind his desk to do whatever paper he was given. He had never thought that he would come to that part in his life wherein he has something he wishes to protect more than his heart, more than the ambitions that he hold. he had never expected any of your arrival along with a child who has your looks and his personality.

Due to his demanding and busy schedule, usually having to accomplish tasks and missions given to him by the Tsaritsa, you rarely see him come home early and it is only on events that occur once in a blue moon that he will do so. If you ever try to stay up late in order to wait for him, however, he will scold you even if deep down he feels happy. It worries him seeing your tired state, eyes trying to stay open and body threatening to relax to sleep, and it makes him wonder how much you pushed yourself just so you could greet him once he comes home.

Although you frequently sleep with nobody by your side, you wake up with him beside you—either awake and watching you or also still asleep and trying to catch up on the rest that he needs. Occasionally, your son would also join in the bed and would be sleeping in between you two, cuddled and cradled, and when you and Scaramouche are already awake while he’s still unconscious, you’ll stay in bed a little bit longer and talk to each other quietly. It is in those peaceful moments shared in the morning that he forgets all his worries and problems.

He is usually exhausted from his work so he prefers spending time with you sleeping in bed or doing anything together that doesn’t require that much energy. He spends some of his time watching over his son and teaching him about all the things that he has to know, although majority of the time he comes off as intimidating due to his nature and personality—you have to tell him what to do to not scare his own child and to build a proper bond with him because after all, he’s a little bit clumsy and unfamiliar with such relationships and manners.

Even if he’s always away, he tries to always be there especially for his child. He makes an effort through sending letters, buying souvenirs and gifts he got from his trips, spending time with you all as much as possible once he comes home, and many more.

When he’s on his day off or break, he’ll take everyone out to spend time together—mostly in places that don't have that many people as he doesn’t wish for anyone to disturb the only time that he gets to have with his loved ones. Although if you insist and you plead for the three of you to go to a festival or event together, he’ll eventually give in but then of course, he’ll always be on his guard and have people on stand-by on each corner in case something happens. He just can’t afford being too careless.

In order to protect his family, he keeps the fact that he has a family—a wife and a son—as a secret and only close and trusted people know it. After all, he’s a Fatui Harbinger and it’s not uncommon for him to not have enemies so for his beloved ones to be safe, he’ll keep your existences in the dark and have people guarding you at all times when he’s away due to his work.

Oftentimes, he stays up all night while you’re asleep and his child is sleeping beside him and he wonders, thinking and contemplating, if he really deserved to have this kind of happiness after all the misery that he had. You were an escape to his problems, the peace to each of the conflicts that he has, bringing an illusion of serenity to his living of chaos and turmoil and if ever something happens to either of you two, he’ll gladly burn with his hands.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix]

how long can you stand the heat || ot7

Warnings: Uhhh, none I think? Non-graphical smut and slight angst, but that's pretty much it for now since I'm still crafting the next part, and some curse words lmao.

I won't control you, but MDNI. This is not for you, please.

Pairings: OT7/(F) Reader, Jackson Wang/(F) Reader

Plot: The one where your soulmates don't want you in their life, so you give them what they want and stay out of their way.

Genre: not really unrequited love (but they're all idiots), mutual pining, angst, denial of feelings, poly ot7

How do you think I'm going to get along

Without you when you're gone?

You took me for everything that I had

And kicked me out on my own.

Are you happy? Are you satisfied?

How long can you stand the heat?

Out of the doorway the bullets rip

To the sound of the beat.

mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1

I originally posted this on ao3 last April but I've just recently thought, "why not post this on tumblr now that i'm using it again after a few years?"

this fic is v self-serving, and was brought to you by my ✨maladaptive daydreams✨

first fic i posted here. idek what im doing but lezzgawwww

Title obviously came from AOBTD. Thank you, Sir John Deacon. You are heaven-sent for making this iconic and legendary bop.

This will be a part of a multi-fic series and i've already crafted 80/90-ish% of the next part im so sorry my mind isn't cooperating rn

✨️

God must be testing your patience.

I mean sure, you might not also be sure that there is indeed a god out there somewhere. However, you must have pissed off some deity or you had pissed on some old man of the mound. Either way, you don't care. You're pissed off now, too.

You see when they rejected you and asked (read: avoided you like the plague until Sejin spoke with you) not to speak or interact with them, you respected their wishes. It stung, but it's not really surprising.

It's not a secret that the seven of them are soulmates, polyamorous soulbonds not even a rarity in and out of the industry. However, it's also not a secret that they're very exclusive and don't let too many (if any) other people in their circle because of the things they had to endure as a group. It makes sense that they wouldn't want a new person intruding and messing with their dynamics, soulmate or not.

(deep down you want to say it doesn't make sense. you're their soulmate, why can't they accept you like that? but there's still nothing you can do, isn't there?)

And so, you delegated all your tasks related to their group to your most trusted employees completely and avoided them at all costs. And by 'at all costs', you mean everything. You even deleted all their songs on your playlists and blocked them on social media (even on Spotify). You can co-exist with them without interacting, although it makes your chest ache through the bond because of the soul rejection like a 24/7 acid relapse.

It's fine. You can ignore all that. You can handle rejection. You've been used to this since you were a kid; adult you can handle this.

Soul rejection side effects? Nothing meds and doctors can't fix. Technology has never been more advanced and all that jazz.

You're a mature person, and you pride yourself on that. You don't like confrontations that much and would rather step back as much as you can to disengage. If your soulmates don't want anything to do with you, then you'll back off.

But you sometimes wonder if they can feel it too, the soul strings fraying and slowly decaying. After shit went down, it's bouts of nausea and dizziness, and constant chest aches for you. That's not even half of it. It'll take a whole day for you to list all your symptoms.

If they do feel it, does it add to their list of reasons why they hate your existence? You mean, they had been borderline antagonistic since your first meeting, cold but civil at best.

It was a contrast to the way the tiny soul marks on each of your fingers glowed on your first meeting even until after Taehyung and Yoongi fled in what you can guess is disbelief and refusal, the others following suit. The warmth in your hands felt scorching, and you had never wanted to scrub them with water in your life then more than you ever did, your chest beating hard and painfully. You remember feeling like someone slashed your insides with a hot knife, and it has never stopped being in pain ever since.

What else were you supposed to think other than they hate you?

Not wanting to risk another embarrassing conversation with Sejin (bless his heart), you decided to book an appointment and signed up for the relatively new soul-scraping therapy. It's still in its human trial stages and is slowly being recognized as a way of severing soul ties, albeit not approved and sanctioned by the government. Anything to give and honor their wishes. They're your soulmates, and it's innate in you to give people what they want.

(or was it really just that?)

All of that and everything else, you can take. You live and abide by your life motto to stay out of drama, so you take all of it in stride and with dignity because it's all you have left at this point when it comes to them.

This is where you got pissed off, though. This day takes the cake, this sodding party.

Attending the party was certainly not your idea. You're tired from the long-ass meetings you had today—JYP's team asked for a meeting for your agreement with Day6 since Sungjin got discharged a few months ago with Younghyun following suit in a few days. A party is definitely not on your to-do list. If it's up to you, you'll be going home to your phone and fics.

(and if they're bangtan fics, nobody has to know. this, you can let yourself have—you were advised against going cold turkey from them by the doctors handling the soul-scraping therapy, after all. if you can't have them, maybe you can at least indulge in fictional them.)

You have been minding your own business since you arrived at the bar. It's laughable how socially inept you are despite handling your business and meeting the entertainment industry's biggest names and leaders regularly. When being put in parties and other gigs that force you to socialize just for the sake of socializing, you're back to being the fat loser kid that avoided making new friends because the ones you previously had in childhood (if you can really call them that) can't understand how your brain and mouth work. Frankly, you don't, too, so you just preferred to stay in one corner until it's socially acceptable to go home.

"Hey." Jackson squeezes your hand in his and smiles worriedly at you. "You doing okay?"

Jackson had been a long-time friend and is someone you trust your whole life with. Jackson had seen you through your bests and worsts, but had never once turned his back on you or betrayed you as many people did.

Yeah, you would trust him with your whole life. Your panties too, but don't tell him that.

(there's no need to because he knows; he did lots of times before, with his face between your thighs and your undies in his pocket.)

"I'm good." You don't even bother smiling, knowing it won't convince him too much. He knows your stand on parties; you're his polar opposite, after all. "I just really wanna go home."

"Can I come with?" he asks with a salacious smile.

You roll your eyes.

"Stop being horny for five minutes, please."

"You shouldn't have worn that dress, then." He rakes you with an assessing look. "On second thought, that's the best decision you did tonight so far. If you're not going home with anyone tonight, my room's open."

"You up to be my wingman?" you ask.

"Sure. I'll sit with you all night so we can look like a swinger couple scouting for a third we can take home." He waggles his eyebrows.

You snort at that with an amused chuckle, oblivious to the glare(s) directed your way by—who else?—your soulmates.

They (Taehyung) heard from Manager Sejin and Noona Ae-cha that you're not sure if you can come. They didn't know why the two were talking about you, but Taehyung tried to act immersed in his phone while eavesdropping.

Apparently, you had been stuck in the boardroom almost all day with the back-to-back meetings, and you even had to cancel your doctor's appointment. For what the appointment is for, he didn't know. It explains your absence that day, and he files the information away at the back of his head. He can't for the life of him understand why he can't stop trying to spot crumbs about you.

(he does know, but he's in denial about why—and he'll deny both.)

He then told his hyungs and Jungkook, which they just nodded at, seemingly uninterested. But if Namjoon's faraway serious look at times is anything to go by or the way Jimin picks at the skin on his lips as he's lost in thought, he's pretty sure they are also subtly trying to figure out if you're coming.

(but they'll all deny that if asked.)

They haven't seen you that much since they started actively avoiding you months ago and shut down whatever soul link you have with them, and you are damn good at trying to stay out of their way.

It surprised them, they're not gonna lie. They expected you to put up a fight, but all Manager Sejin told them was that you agreed. You never interacted with them ever since unless it was really needed, and you were always wearing your rings and not making unnecessary eye contact even once.

(and that somehow pisses them off and itches under their skin because how dare you not be interested?)

And now you've been here for the past hour or so, Jackson Wang in tow. Or rather, Jackson has his arms alternately snaked around yours or slung around your shoulders. It makes Jackson look like a frat douchebag.

(and it makes taehyung look jealous and interested in you which he is so not, no.)

Hoseok was the first one to spot you arriving, Another One Bites The Dust thumping through the dancefloor that was bathed in red lights. He nudges Namjoon from his seat in their secluded and swanky VIP room that was separated one floor above the bar proper.

"There she is", he says then, gesturing towards you as all seven pairs of eyes land on you as you enter with Jackson. "She's with Wang."

With varying levels of internal turmoil, they all watch as Jackson led you through the throngs of people, presumably to another room like theirs. They see you shake your head and point to the bar, and Jackson's face light up with a wide smile before redirecting your steps.

Yoongi asks himself why you have to wear that dress or why Jackson has to clutch at your hands like a little kid, the others having a similar train of thought. Does Jackson think he's going to be lost in this bar? Is he that plain stupid to be lost in this bar, really?

And why are you letting him?

Jimin tries not to let his eyes wander on your legs, tries not to let his mind wander back to the thought of being choked by your thick supple legs and ripping that off-shoulder dress off you and—

Oh. Woah, there.

Stop it! he thinks to himself and shakes his head.

(this is not the first time he's thought of this, darling. when he first saw those smooth and lovely-looking plump thighs, he knows he was fucked.)

Jin is no better, but he hides it better than the others. After all, it was not his idea to shut you out like that. He was opposed to it and tried to talk some sense into the others, but they didn't listen. He thought back then that Namjoon would at least be reasonable and give you a shot but nooo, the kid was stupid enough to listen to others.

Let them have what they want, then.

(he can feel the pit and longing in his chest some nights and thinks that maybe he can let the others do what they want but still do what he wants too. but he takes a look at the six men who had been there for him through thick and thin, and he can't lose them. he sends you an apology mentally, hoping you can at least feel it through the bond.)

"Calm down," Jin tells them levelly, trying to pry the glass off Namjoon's hand, lest he crushes it and injures himself. "You're crushing the poor thing, Joonie. Don't wanna end up in the ER, do you?"

Jackson's the one to end up in the ER if he doesn't unwrap his arms from your shoulders, that's who, Namjoon thinks to himself bitterly before he can stop himself.

Jin leans back on his seat and watches as you laugh with Jackson, arms slung around your shoulders as the latter listens to you talk. They all wouldn't have to seethe in barely contained anger if they just listened to him though, so who's at fault here?

Aish, these brats.

"I'm going to get more drinks," Jungkook suddenly says, disentangling himself from Taehyung fluidly.

"You can just ask them," Namjoon says, pointing towards the glass doors where their security detail is posed out of the room. "There's no need to go out."

"I'm going to get more drinks," Jungkook repeats firmly, ignoring him. Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Come help me, Jin-hyung?"

Ah, this conniving brat. Jin wants to kiss his pouty lips for this.

"Sure," Jin says easily, much to Namjoon's annoyance. He pats Namjoon's cheeks gently. "No breaking the glass, Joon-ah. We have a photoshoot tomorrow."

He pulls Jungkook out of the room before any of them can disagree further. He loops his arm around Jungkook's petite waist, nodding once to the man stationed at the door.

"You're not just getting drinks at you, aren't you?" Jin asks as they descend the steps.

"I don't know what you're talking about, hyung." Jungkook's smile is sharp. "I just don't wanna get roofied and end up on the tabloids tomorrow, is all."

"You don't have to lie to me," Jin says, kissing his hair. "I wanna see her, too."

Jungkook's smile turns sad at that.

"I just don't understand. [Name]-noona seems like a nice person. They're all being stupid."

Jin has to agree. "But you know why we have to, right? I don't like it, too, but we have no choice."

"But we do!" Jungkook insists. "We can be friends, even."

"Friends don't fuck friends." Jungkook snorts at that. "There's nothing 'friends' about wanting her with us, Jungkook."

"Friends don't fuck friends, my ass," Jungkook mumble mockingly. "That didn't stop Jackson-hyung at all."

Jin stops momentarily, pulling Jungkook to a stop. "Excuse me?"

"They were having sex last week, hyung. When Jackson-hyung came over last Wednesday."

"Was that why...?"

"Yeah." Jungkook takes his hand as they walk again. "I felt it through the strings, too."

Jungkook is suspiciously not meeting his eyes.

"Jungkook-ah."

"What?" he asks innocently. Jin's lips pull into a smirk.

"You naughty cat!"

"I—what? No!" but Jungkook is still not meeting his eyes. "I didn't watch them."

Jin gasps delightedly.

"This is so much better. I didn't even say anything yet!"

Ah, fuck.

In Jungkook's defense, he hadn't meant to listen in. But he had been on his way back to the practice room from relieving his screaming bladder when he heard it. The warmth and arousal that was definitely not his he had been ignoring since that lunchtime was not helping his curiosity.

"Ah!" And oh shit, it's someone moaning and it's you.

That explains the arousal he's been feeling. Oh, and the jealousy now (his), too.

"Yeah?" A deeper voice asked breathlessly. Another punched-out moan from you, and the arousal flares in his chest.

Yup. It's definitely his this time.

"Jackson, please," your equally breathless voice pleaded, and the sound shot to his cock. Jungkook had to stop his hand from going south inside his pants and boxers.

A delighted shriek and breathless laugh, followed by a staccato of 'ah ah ah's and hips slapping against each other punctuated the otherwise silent afternoon he was having.

And what would a self-respecting man do?

Stay and listen to you get railed six ways to Sunday, was what he did.

(jungkook didn't say he's a self-respecting man.)

Jungkook slipped his hand inside his pants and boxers and wrapped his hand around his aching cock. He almost moaned at how your moans quickly reached a whole other level of desperation. He wondered and tried to imagine how you would feel around him if he fucked you harder and deeper than Jackson possibly can.

He knows he can.

"Hands, Jackson." There was a chuckle, then your whine was heard. "Baobei, please."

Jungkook heard Jackson's sharp intake of breath, and he had to internally agree. Even speaking Mandarin, you sound so hot.

He heard you mewl with a choked giggle as the sounds of hips to hips got faster.

"You really like my hands, huh?" Jackson asked.

"Mhm. Want them wrapped around my—ah!—neck all the time."

Fuck.

Jungkook had to bite onto his hands as he came, so as not to give his position away, cock spurting on his hands,. Seconds later and he heard you cry out and Jackson grunt to completion.

So, no. He definitely didn't watch.

"You nasty, nasty boy!" Jin cackles at him and he wants to pout. "You listened in to them having sex?!"

"Hyung!" Jungkook hisses. "Not too loud."

Jin snickers at him, mouth pulled in a tempting smirk he wants to kiss. "Was it good?"

"Hyung," he whines. At Jin's unfaltering smirk, he sighs. "It was. She sounds so good, hyung. I can't take it off my mind."

"Maybe later, we can do something about that." Jin says with a low hum.

He peers at Jin's eyes and almost shudders at the dark and hungry look in them. Jin squeezes his waist, and it takes Jungkook's breath away.

In his silence, Jin nods with a hum.

"Hm, definitely later."

He won't say no to that. If they can't have you, Jungkook's gonna take what he can get, even if it means settling on replaying your moans in his head.

When they reach the bar, you are still sitting at the other end with Jackson. They are careful not to be seen by you or you'll probably leave like you always do when they get within your 10-foot vicinity.

Then Jackson puts his hand on your slightly exposed leg. He feels the others' jealousy through the bond first before he feels his own, and he sees you stiffen in your seat.

Hyungs!

Jungkook quickly looks away, but not before Jackson catches his gaze. He completely misses the way Jackson's mouth pulls into a quick smirk as their drinks are thankfully served at that exact moment.

"Wanna head back to your place?"

You're unexpectedly suddenly close, and it's like Jackson wants him and Jin to hear to rile them up. It works, and he can barely tamp down the urge to pour the drinks over Jackson's big head, being older be damned.

"Sure. I'll just swing by the restroom." You say as you walk away. Jin and Jungkook take that as their cue to go back to their ritzy room.

"That was short," Jin says tightly as they go back. "Was it you?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

Jin's lips quirk into an amused smile.

"Ah, jealous bastards."

"Weren't you too, though?" Jungkook asks with a slightly amused smile of his own. "That was... that was intense."

"That serves them," Jin says as they near the room. "If they weren't just pigheaded, it's my shoulders her legs are gonna be hanging from later."

"Jin-hyung!" Jungkoo huffs, but then deflates. "Yeah."

"Don't worry, we still have later," Jin says with a lascivious smirk.

And he can't complain about that, can he?

"Where's Tae-hyung?" he asks when they enter the room, Taehyung nowhere in sight.

"Went out. Didn't say where." Hoseok says as he accepts their drinks and puts the tray on the table. It takes a few seconds for him to piece it all together, and he mentally facepalms.

"Whatever happened to 'not giving a fuck' about [Name]?" he mumbles.

"Jungkook," Namjoon warns.

It sets him off.

"What? Are you all really going to keep on pretending? You do realize I felt that back there too, right?" he shoots back.

"So the drinks were just a ruse?" Namjoon's face is stormy.

Jungkook holds his gaze steady. "And what if it was? You all know what I felt about this since day one."

"Kook-ah." It's Jimin this time. "Not now, please."

"And when, hyung? When we go back to just pretending an eighth of our soul doesn't exist out there?"

"Jungkook."

He glares at Yoongi. "No, hyung. If you all want to be stupid, I don't! [Name]-noona is going through therapy because of this, don't you know?"

Yoongi scoffs. "She's a big girl, she can handle herself."

"Not soul-scraping therapy, she won't."

They all stop at that. Even Jungkook stops and internally curses.

Fuck, he wasn't supposed to say that.

"What did you say?" Namjoon's voice takes on a dangerous tone.

He huffs but stays silent, not really wanting to dig a deeper hole for himself.

"Jungkook."

"I talked to Jiho-hyung, okay? I bumped into him five months ago when he visited her."

Silence.

"Im Jiho?" At Jungkook's nod, Namjoon's frown deepened. "I didn't know he practices soul-scraping."

"He's co-authoring the soul-scraping study with Doctor Seong."

At the mention of one of their previous soul health doctors, Yoongi raises his eyebrows.

"Our Doctor Seong?"

Jungkook nods with a sigh, plopping down beside Hoseok. "Apparently, it's why he stopped private practice—to focus on the studies. They're also lobbying for fully legalizing soul-scraping in the Assembly. I ran into him, and he mentioned that he was there for noona's side effects from the therapy."

Side effects?

Shit.

"W-wait. Five months, you said?" Jin says with a tremble in his voice. "Is that why I can barely feel her anymore?"

Jungkook's sigh is pained, forlorn. "Apparently, yeah."

They all lapse in complete silence after that, the thumping of the beat on the dancefloor faint through the walls.

"Fuck."

Indeed.

It is then that Taehyung comes back. He takes one look at their varying degrees of solemn and stunned expressions and tilts his head.

"What? What happened?" he asks.

"[Name]..."

Taehyung's eyes widen before his expression smooths into indifference.

"I told you, I'm no—"

"That's not it," Jimin says softly. "She's in soul-scraping therapy, Taehyung-ah."

...

"What?"

(oh, lord. you don't know the turmoil you caused all these pining idiots, darling.)

---

And what about you?

As we said in the beginning, god must be testing your patience.

"Hey," Jackson says softly. He lifts your chin with a gentle smile long after Taehyung fucked off to god knows where. "You good, baobei?"

You didn't even know they were here. You were vaguely aware that yeah, they might be, but it totally slipped your mind. Meetings really did drain your brain.

When you stood up and went to the restroom while Jackson called for the driver, you didn't know that Taehyung was watching you from their room and completely high-tailed it from there just to intercept you when he saw you stand up from the corner of the bar. You didn't know why, but his stupid drunken ass just decided it wanted and it was a good idea to rile you up.

To piss you off is why, you think.

When you exited the ladies' room, Taehyung was standing there by the wall looking lethal. The ache in your chest flared up for two different reasons, but you ignored it. You ignored him and started walking away, pretending you didn't see him.

"So you're really here."

Seriously?

You continued ignoring him and walked on, but he didn't let you get far.

He grabs your wrist. "I said, you're really here."

The spot where he held you burned and you hissed, cursing the therapy's side effects. You were warned that coming in contact skin-to-skin with your soulmates while undergoing the therapy would feel painful (literally), but you didn't heed it then. You had no reason to touch them after all when they didn't even want to see you.

But it is painful, and it burns.

You yanked your wrist away, hiding your wrist behind your back. There's no need for that, though. Taehyung was looking at your face intently.

"Yes, and I was just leaving. See you around, T—"

"With Jackson?"

What's it with this guy?

You looked back at him and squared your shoulders up. "That's really none of your business, Taehyung."

He laughed with a sneer, shaking his head.

"What would people say if they knew you're off gallivanting with men who aren't your soulmate?"

Wow.

The nerve of this asshole.

You can't let him see it affect you though, so you tilt your head with an innocent smile.

"I'm just a nobody. Why would they talk about me? " You smirked in amusement. "I don't think it'll be me they will talk about since I wasn't the one who rejected my soulmate, was I?"

And oh, shit. Where did that come from, [Name]? Feisty.

"And I'm not doing anything illegal. Why should I be scared?" You slightly lean back and tilt your chin up. "I'm not the one between us with a reputation to uphold, a name I should protect."

You paused, a serene smile on your face.

"I'm not a coward. I'm not you, Taehyung"

The smirk on his lips was replaced with a sharp look of disdain, almost like he wants to slap the smile off your face.

(he wants to, darling. trust me. just not in the way you think.)

You knew you hit a nerve and it feels petty and mean, but it's nothing compared to the loneliness and pain they gave you these past few months. It felt satisfying, even if for just a bit.

"You really think you're all that, don't you?" He smiled almost mockingly. "Tell me, how does it feel to be rejected?"

That really stung and angered you, but you've spent all your life hiding your emotions when needed to. Your expression didn't falter.

"It feels good—"

"—because she dodged a bullet."

You internally sighed in relief as Jackson's voice float behind you. You'll forever be thankful for this man's existence, gods or not.

You melt in his arms when he wrapped them around your waist. You chanced a look at Jackson, not seeing the twitch on Taehyung's brows at your body language.

"You really think you're all that, don't you?" Jackson mocked back at him. "Imagine thinking it's the end of the world for your soulmate just because you shut down their bond." Jackson chuckled ruthlessly.

"You're pathetic, Taehyung-ssi."

The two were locked in a glowering match before Taehyung straightened up and spun on his heel without a word.

Jackson let you get your bearings by the wall of the hallway to the ladies' room in silence. But he didn't let you stew in your thoughts for long.

So now here you are, looking at his gentle eyes.

"You good, baobei?"

You don't know how to answer that really, so you pull him by the collar into a searing kiss.

He puts his hand on your waist, the other on the wall by your face, and you tighten your hold on his collar.

You pull away to gasp for air.

"Take me home," you exhale heavily as you lean your head on his shoulder. "Take me home and fuck me 'til I forget, or I might do something stupid."

Jackson's sharp intake of air is your answer before he pulls you away to your awaiting car outside the club.

---

feedback (constructive, please don't be too rude bc i'll cry) and kudos very much appreciated!

[thealias0]

I might have came up with alternate resolutions for both The Giggle and Empire of Death in the shower

I think that those resolutions are both really underwhelming and deserved more. So, let's start what i came up with The Giggle.

Originally, The Toymaker was defeated by him just messing up. No clever play from anyone. 14 and 15 haven't displayed one of their biggest traits, which is their Time Lord super intelligence. They only displayed their ability to play catch, which is just such a waste imo. My proposal: Game of catch goes just like it did in the episode, but eventually 14 and 15 look at each other in understanding. They have cooked a plan. 14 catches the ball and throws it to 15, but he misses and ball falls off the edge of the rooftop. Both act shocked and 15 immediately sprints into the building. Toymaker looks at what just transpired and laughs and screams. "Go ahead, run if you wanna play hide and seek next. You will not escape me anyways." Turns to 14. "Are you proud? Your next incarnation revealed himself to be a coward! I expect many things from you, Doctor, but that sure surprised me. Now, you lost the game, so now's time for me to collect my reward." 14 smirks. "I wouldn't be so sure, as I believe... it is still falling" The moment he said that, the ball hurling from the entrance to the building hits The Toymaker and falls to the ground. In the way stands none other than 15 visibly exhausted from running and expression of relief on his face. Toymaker visibly angry, scared and confused asks: "Wh- What?! How did you... No... don't tell me-" "That's right, Toymaker" 15 expeled. "There are no rules forbidding the usage of time machines" 14 finished the thought. Then the flashback plays out showing the whole thing from 15's perspective. He runs as fast as he can straight to the TARDIS passing himself on the way, travels to the time and place where the ball is supposed to land, catches it, travels back and runs back to the rooftop passing himself on the way back. The rest transpires as it did in the original. I'm not claiming it's the best, great or even good alternate ending, but i think it would be more satisfying than what we got.

The resolution for Empire of Death is one of the most disappointing events I've ever seen in Doctor Who. It made Sutekth into a complete joke. Are you really telling me that the supposed most powerful being in existence. A god so powerful and terrifying that even The Toymaker ran in terror, wasn't able to handle a fucking rope? I don't care if it's a "smart rope" whatever that means. Toymaker was able to turn bullets into confetti, people into bunch of bouncy balls and implied he could turn galaxies into figet spinners or whatever. Sutekth is supposed to be more powerful than that and he couldn't do anything about it? Sutekth deserves much better than this. So this is what i came up with. It isn't nearly as detailed as the toymaker stuff, but i hope you'll enjoy the concept. So, i decided to actually use the spoon to save the universe in hopefully interesting way. I didn't think of any good scenario yet, but here's my idea for the concept itself. What if Doctor defeated Sutekh by using his power against him using the spoon. By that i mean that The Doctor could psychologically manipulate Sutekh into believing that the spoon through some classic Doctor Who technobabble, power of love and fairy tale salt spilling mumbo jumbo became an actual weapon capable of defeating him. Sutekh being a god and having power over reality itself could subconsciously make that story a reality and unknowingly empowering the spoon with his own power, which then Doctor could use to defeat him.

So that's what i came up. I am not a writer, so i apologize if that's an unbearable slop of a read. I'm not claiming that the dialogue i wrote is any good, as im just not experienced in writing. All i did here was not very thought through and only served the purpose of conveying my core ideas about the alternate resolutions for those stories. Hope you enjoyed and have a nice day

[writing-havoc]

could you do Tolya Yul-Bataar x fem!reader

you were going to gala, you felt bit nervous as you walks around and you bump to someone and it was Tolya, he hold your waist to be careful, you apologize, you two look each other, he asked to take you for walk, you two talk about his homeland, you really like to know him more *fluffiness*

(hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day)

The Gala

♡ Summary: Tolya catches you before you fall at a gala, and offers to take you on a walk to calm your nerves. You find he's a rather interesting man.

♡ Pairing: Tolya Yul-Bataar x Fem!Reader (ambiguous, please read indented)

♡ Fandom: King of Scars, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): None

♡ WC: 2.1k

Hello!! Thank you for your request!

I wrote this one ambiguous on purpose. It could either be taken romantically or platonically. I personally think Tolya is aromantic due to a line he says in the KoS series, but I know other people don't take it that way. So feel free to take this however you wish <3

Hope you enjoy it and that you have a good day as well!!

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

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To make a long story short, you feel incredibly grateful and attractive. Which is perfect to mask the sheer anxiety you feel.

King Nikolai was in attendance at this gala. And while you had no intention of meeting him, fate could have other plans for you.

It could send you tripping over your own silk gown and into him, his guards mistaking you for an assailant and killing you on the spot. You could make someone else bump into him, throwing the imported wine all over his first army garb. Hell, he could even choose to make conversation with you, to which you'd embarrass yourself by rambling about the intricacies of jewelry making and metalsmithing.

Saints, you need to calm down.

If you're not mistaken, there's a table around here with finger foods and drinks that could help.

The crowd, however, is incredibly unforgiving. People remain where they stand, almost as if they're completely unaware you're trying to make it last them. You put hands on shoulders and backs, apologize when you have to tilt your body to squeeze between groups of people, and all you get are glares and judgemental up-and-down looks.

People really need to be kinder, more considerate. They're not the only people that exist in this room. How are the servers supposed to go around and serve the alcohol? What if there was an emergency? Is it really that hard to consider moving one step to the left?

Your annoyance makes you distracted. You step on someone's shoe, throwing you completely off balance and sending you falling to the floor.

The only thing that could make this more humiliating is falling into someone. Which you do.

You feel yourself flush, embarrassment rushing through your brain as you try and correct yourself.

"Oh saints, please forgive me!" It takes a moment to realize just how big the man who caught you was. His arms are rather large, but he's also just plain tall. He easily stands a good couple centimeters above every person in this room. "I really have to be more careful."

You realize now he's one of the Kings guards, but its more or less irrelevant seeing as he's so far away from said King. The stoic look on his face cracks a little, a small smile forming on his angled face.

"It's alright, It's only right I apologize as well. Forgive me for bumping into you." He slips his arm away from your waist once you get yourself balanced within your heels. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

You fix the gloves around your wrists. "Oh, no. Not at all. For as big as you are you're incredibly gentle."

"That's good to hear."

It takes you a moment to realize the words that slipped past your tongue. Mortification pummels through your system.

"I didnt mean- im so sorry once again. That wasnt the best choice of words."

This is just so wrong. This isn't how anything was supposed to go. And now you feel so hot, face even prickling at the increase in your internal temperature. The man eyes you, squinting when you begin to fan yourself.

"Truly, I dont take offense. Would you like to go on a walk? Its much cooler outside."

It's definitely not a smart to follow a man you just met to a secondary location. But with the way he's dressed, and the way he carries himself, he isn't all that threatening. The Soldat Sol tattoo on his arms also does well to quell any lasting fears.

"That would be lovely, thank you."

He walks through the crowd with you trailing very close behind. People part to make room for him, and make a look of disdain when they see you trailing behind like a duckling.

But the moment that fresh cool evening air reaches your skin, it feels worth it. Like you can breathe.

You allow yourself to walk to the edge of the wrap around patio that surrounds this whole place. The garden has plants beginning to close, no longer needing to open their petals now that the sun is setting.

The flowers are red, and butterflies are making their last rounds to the buds that are still open.

"There's a flower, in Shu Han, that looks similar to this." He takes a step off the porch and approaches the flower.

He's incredibly gentle, fingertips barely grazing the petals and slotting the stem between his fingers. He encourages it up towards his face as he bends down to smell it, a smile adorning this face.

"What's it called?" You ask, picking up your dress and stepping down to join him.

"The one in Shu Han is called Datura Meloxia. It's incredibly poisonous. This one... I'm not sure."

You hook a finger around one of the stems, bringing it toward you.

It seems tropical, which is strange given that summers aren't all that hot here and Ravka has a winter season. The stigma reaches far out beyond the confines of the petals, and almost seems to have a cloud of surrounding the end.

"Do you know a lot about Shu Han?" You ask.

He let's out a chortle. "I should hope so. It's where I grew up."

"Listen, people are everywhere these days. I didn't want to assume you knew everything about there just because you look like you're from there."

"Thats very open minded of you."

You shrug. "Doesnt do us any good to be close minded, does it?"

He let's go of the flower, putting his hands back behind his back. "No. It doesn't."

The air feels a bit tense, weighing on your shoulders. The way he keeps his eyes trained on the flowers makes you feel as if you may have made him uncomfortable.

"Do you know anything about Shu Han you specifically enjoy?"

If there's anything you know about people, is that broad questions are usually the way to go. From there they can get as specific as they want or stay broad.

"Poetry." He says, going specific. "Epic Poetry, specifically. There's quite a few poems from both Ravka and Shu that are quite interesting."

That, ironically, piques your interest. "Like what?"

And it's like you opened up a dam, water spilling out in the form of languages you don't understand but find incredibly alluring. He's like an encyclopedia, citing poems that date back hundreds of years and reciting the lines as of he has the material right in front of him.

In a way you think he does. His eyes will get glossy and it's almost like he's turning the page when he talks with his hands, staring far into the distance at something you can only hope to see.

He does his best to translate the text, but you can tell it pains him that there isn't a direct translation that will allow you to appreciate the beauty of the poem.

But he does his best all the same, and you give as much encouragement as possible, smiling wide when he says something particularly grand. He even cites romance every once in a while, and you feel yourself cataloging the lines to digest later.

Because it really was interesting. You've thought about poetry maybe three, four times in your entire life when your mom brought home a book filled with them for her entertainment. But never did you think it could be this interesting.

Or maybe it's just because he makes it interesting, adding bits of history from both Ravka and Shu Han when he can.

It's also nice to see his face light up just a smidgen when you express your own knowledge, telling him you do actually know about that piece of history and jump into your own session of info dumping.

But as all good things do, they come to an end.

He's in the middle of explaining a poem from liturgical Ravkan (who /knows/ that?) when he becomes distracted.

"Everything alright?" You ask, raising on your toes but staying off the side as you try and capture his attention again.

"I'm fine, yes. However, it's time for us to part ways."

When he looks at you, you swear you see his lips turn down just a bit.

"Ah." You don't bother to hide your sadness. "That's alright. Would you like to pick this up a different day?"

He hums. "Only if you live near the Palace."

"Actually, I do." That gets his attention again. "I work at this little shop in the city just outside the gates in Os Alta in the market area. Its-"

"The bookbinding shop." He interrupts. "I remember now. I see you almost everytime I walk by there with the King."

You smile, wide and feeling better than before. "Yeah. We make journals and restore books."

He's silent for a moment, eyes flickering back and forth between you and whatever has his attention.

When his eyes settle on you, he's kind. Which isn't saying a lot since during this entire interaction he has been nothing but, but still. He's kind. "When I have a moment to spare, I will visit you again."

You clap your hands together, then hold your hand out for him to take. "Ill see you then."

His rough and warm hand shakes your own. And with a nod, he's gone.

You watch him leave, walking briskly past hoards of people who part for him like he's dangerous or purposefully bump into him.

Once he's out of eyesight, you allow yourself to calm your heart.

It's mostly leftover anxiety from before he caught you. When you look at the shadows on the ground you realize you and him hadn't actually talked for that long. You just don't want to make a lasting horrible impression on anyone, and you hope you didn't make him feel awkward talking with you.

But, you think he enjoyed it. He relaxed a little while talking to you, yet still kept to his duty as the Kings guard and never looked away from the mansion.

You feel satisfied.

"Hello there."

A woman's voice gets your attention. She looks similar to Tolya, and you remember she's also a part of the Kings personal guard. Perhaps they're taking turns? That would make sense.

"Hello. How are you?" You ask.

"Splendid. My names Tamar." She wraps an arm around your shoulder, which you immediately grab to steady yourself. "Im Tolya's older sister. I just wanted to take a look at the girl thats got my brother in such a good mood."

You perk up immediately. "Oh, how lovely! Tolya mentioned you a few times while he was talking about poetry."

Immediately she groans, which gets a giggle out of you. "I beg your forgiveness. Once he starts you have to kind of yell at him to get him to stop."

"Oh, don't apologize!" You slip out of her grasp, folding your hands neatly in front of you. "I quite enjoyed our talk. I never knew how much history could be stored in something as simple as a poem."

Her eyebrows nearly shoot into her hair, a look almost like incredulousness passes over her face. She snorts.

"You may just be the only person who can handle that."

That, you have to admit, makes you happy.

"What else are you interested in?"

Tamar was a little harder to talk to for the rest of the night. She's not as straight forward as her brother, but you can find the little similarities that make her feel almost familiar.

Once you have to part ways, the King possibly getting what he came here for, you waved goodbye to Tamar, and began to head to your carriage yourself.

Tonight was remarkably eventful. And as you watch Tolya and Tamar head off into the distance with their King in tow, you hoped that every once in a while they would stop by.

If only to get to know them more.

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@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kylie18 @morrigan-crowmwell @venomsvl @milkshake0

[usercelestial]

airing out my personal grievances with this show and this storyline here both to just get it and clarify why i'm mad before i get any saying that i'm just mad one of my ships sunk

1) buck is never gonna get a long term love interest that makes sense because the two that do make sense, tommy and eddie, are either not queer or cut from the show. the writing is lazy and they have zero direction for this show or its character's plots.

2) eddie isn't going to be gay, maybe im wrong about this but i've held out hope long enough and i just feel tired waiting and analyzing. he said he was straight this episode for the first time and we know tim was talking directly to the audience. plus ryan guzman has been blasting the hetero gun for a while now in interviews.

3) if they wanted buck and tommy to just be casual, they should have built it to be casual. including him 8x01 is unnecessary now if you were just going to get rid of him, having buck look at tommy when he says "our people is what makes life worth living" or whatever he says doesn't make sense if they weren't going to last, and ultimately bringing tommy back at all past season 7 or really past 7x06. they still could have dated but they needed to make it clear that they are not sticking around outside of tommy getting buck basketball tickets and buck not knowing tommy is gay in 8x06, which doesn't hint at a whole lot when interviews made it clear they still getting to know each other at this point. that doesn't strike me as odd in the moment if "they're relationship is deepening" still. even if you do notice it, you should have established it in previous episodes, instead of introducing two scenes before they break up.

4) the reason buck and tommy broke up is biphobic. im not going to rehash that but yes, telling a bisexual man that he shouldn't fall in love with the first guy he dates because he hasn't "explored other options" is biphobic.

side note: if the issue is that buck still doesn't feel comfortable with his bisexuality, then i think they missed a few chances to have buck make that clear, namely having him react or correct maddie at all when she called him gay. the only scene i can think of where it seems like buck may not feel comfortable if the scene where a girl flirts with buck and tommy tells him it's okay to look but i don't think the point of that scene is communicated effectively if it was supposed to be buck dealing being on a date with a guy but also knowing he's still attracted to women and maybe still not understanding himself fully

5) this fandom is toxic and horrible, b/ddie is the only thing that anyone is allowed to like and every other relationship just exists to bolster and uphold it. im tired of being in a fandom doesn't care about lesbians (which ive run into with a few bucktommys but still) and it feels like no matter how much the actors/actresses get harassed and bullied, no one stands up for them because i dont think tim minear or really even oliver stark wants to double down on telling toxic fans to fuck off

that's mostly it i think. if they didn't want people getting attached, then they shouldn't have included bucktommy scenes where they were unnecessary. most of episode 5 feels like we're building buck and tommy's relationship up so much. i would have been way more okay with this break up if (1) they didn't make it seem like buck was falling in love tommy and vice versa ie. all of episode 5 and buck's conclusion in episode 6 where he decides that he could see a future with tommy and (2) the reason for the break up didn't feel so insidious.