#this one is more like... acceptance and focus

[neurotica-tales]

Just an idea, but for your latest yandere Hiccup series - the one where he accidentally forgot about reader - imagine when he and reader finally talk about what happened and Hiccup tries to apologize, reader instead imparts some wisdom upon him.

“I was bitter when you started to drift away, and part of me is still bitter, but I’ve learned that sometimes people just…drift apart. It’s not necessarily anyone’s fault, we just grew apart.”

Not only would it show reader’s maturity, it would also end up making Hiccup feel worse because her complete acceptance means that she has given up on reconnection, which is even worse than her being angry.

This Part Three is inspired by two requests—one from above and another from @itsshazaa. Hope you both (and everyone else!) enjoy the story!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A Heart Too Late (Yandere Hiccup x Reader) [Part 3]

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Years have passed since Hiccup vanished from your life, swallowed by duty, dragons, and a girl who wasn’t you. You moved on—learned how to breathe without him. Or so you thought. But the moment he returns to Berk, awkward and familiar, everything inside you shifts. One flight on Toothless becomes a crack in your armor, and Hiccup—slowly, quietly—starts slipping back in.

He doesn’t know why it hurts to see you laugh with someone else. He doesn’t understand why his chest twists every time you don’t look at him the way you used to. Until one morning, he does. And by then, it’s too late. Because he's already decided—he lost you once. He won’t lose you again. Not now. Not ever.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

What He Never Saw Series: Part 1, Part 2

Up Next:

A Visit to Berk (Yandere Hiccup x Berserker!Reader x Yandere Toothless)

Forged in Obsession (Yandere Hiccup x Reader) [Part 1]

Marked By the Chief (Yandere Hiccup x Reader) [Part 2]

To find my main masterlist, click HERE. (Hint: Tuffnut Madnes)

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The door closed with a soft creak behind him, and silence settled in the hut again.

You exhaled slowly.

The air still felt heavy, as though it held the shape of his presence. You turned back to the tray of vials, but your hands hovered above them, useless.

Your heart was still beating too fast.

You pressed your palms against the edge of the table and lowered your head.

It was ridiculous. It had been years. Years of absence, silence, and distance. Years where he hadn’t written, hadn’t visited, hadn’t even thought to ask. You had told yourself, over and over again, that it didn’t matter anymore. That you didn’t need him.

And yet—all it took was a few awkward words and that familiar nervous grin, and suddenly you were the same person from before again, patching him up with trembling fingers while trying not to stare too long at his eyes.

Get it together.

You straightened your posture and picked up a cracked jar, inspecting the clay like it held all the answers you needed.

What was it about him that still got to you? It wasn’t like you hadn’t imagined this moment—bumping into him again, years later, more sure of yourself, finally unaffected. In every version of the fantasy, you were calm. Indifferent. You had moved on.

But now your pulse was racing, and your stomach twisted in that familiar, frustrating way. Like something inside you still hadn’t caught up with all the years that had passed.

You hated it. Hated how easily your walls had wavered. How polite you’d been, how steady you’d tried to seem. Because deep down, part of you had hoped—stupidly, foolishly—that he’d noticed. That he’d said more.

But what did you expect?

You weren’t a part of his world anymore. Not really. Not since dragons became allies and he became something more than the village embarrassment. Not since Astrid. Not since Dragon’s Edge.

He had outgrown you.

And that was fine.

That was what you had wanted, wasn’t it?

You rolled your shoulders back and resumed sorting. Left tray for usable. Right tray for damaged. Focus on the rhythm. Focus on the task.

But even as you moved with purpose, your thoughts spun.

His voice was deeper now. But still him. Still warm. Still unsure. And that look in his eyes…

You shook your head, forcing the memory away.

There was no use dwelling on it. He had moved on. And so had you. Or at least, you were supposed to have.

Outside, the village was waking up fully. You could hear the forge hammer ringing, children laughing, dragon wings slicing through the air.

And somewhere among them—Hiccup.

You let out a breath, slower this time. Controlled.

You’d survived this long without him. You could survive a little longer.

You had to.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next few days passed with an odd, lingering tension. On the surface, everything was normal. The villagers moved about with their usual cheer. Dragons soared and rumbled overhead. The forge clanged from dawn to dusk. But for you, there was an undercurrent you couldn’t shake.

You tried not to think about him. You truly did.

You buried yourself in tasks. Tending wounds, mixing salves, preparing compresses. Gothi kept you busy enough, and you told yourself that was a blessing. The more your hands worked, the less your mind wandered.

But every now and then—when you glanced up from washing bandages or stepped outside to fetch fresh herbs—your eyes would catch movement.

And it would be him.

Hiccup.

He didn’t approach right away. But he was around. More than usual.

Once, you caught sight of him walking with Gobber near the training ring, gesturing at something with a charcoal-streaked hand. He was mid-conversation, animated—but his gaze flicked toward the healer’s hut. Toward you.

Another time, you spotted him near the edge of the village, standing beside Toothless as the dragon stretched his wings. You were headed to deliver a healing potion to a farmer with a limp, and your paths didn’t cross. But as you passed, Hiccup shifted—like he was about to call out. He didn’t.

You didn’t look back.

Then came the third day. This time, he came to you. Claimed Toothless had scorched a paw pad during a flight dive. The burn was minor, barely more than a warm patch of skin.

Still, you treated it. Gentle, thorough. Professional.

And he lingered.

Toothless rested patiently at his feet, content, but Hiccup remained by the doorway long after the bandage had been tied. His fingers tapped lightly against the doorframe as if he wanted to say something—but didn’t.

You didn’t offer a conversation. You didn’t ask why he was there.

And eventually, he left.

But on the fifth day, he returned. Alone.

You had just finished stacking fresh linens when you heard his footsteps outside. You knew them by sound alone—quieter than most, but familiar. Hesitant.

He paused at the threshold. Knocked once, gently.

You looked up from the bundle in your hands.

He offered a tentative smile, hovering in the doorway like a question you hadn’t prepared for.

“Hey.”

Your hands lowered slowly, the linens forgotten in your grasp. You kept your expression composed as you nodded.

“Hi.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet stretched—not tense, exactly, but uncertain. Like neither of you could figure out which version of yourselves you were supposed to be.

Then he cleared his throat.

“I was wondering… if you had time,” he said, glancing back toward the village like he expected someone to call him away. “Would you want to go for a walk? Just for a little while. I mean—we don’t have to go far. I just thought… we could talk. If you want.”

Your stomach tightened. A thousand reasons to say no flashed through your mind. You were busy. You had work to do. You needed to check on Gothi’s supplies. You weren’t ready.

But still, your eyes met his.

There was no pressure in his expression. Only hope. Soft and hesitant.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat.

“Alright,” you said gently. “Let me wash my hands.”

You turned away before he could see your face—before he could see the way your breath caught as you reached for the basin. You dried your fingers slowly, deliberately, trying to calm the flutter in your chest.

And when you finally stepped outside to join him, the sun hit your shoulders, warm and quiet.

You stood beside him. A familiar stranger. Heart calm on the surface—but aching just beneath.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The walk began in silence.

The path Hiccup chose led along the outer ridge of Berk, winding past the edge of the forest and opening to a quiet cliffside that overlooked the sea. You’d walked this route a hundred times before—when you were younger, when things were simpler. Before dragons, before battle scars, before Astrid.

The air was cool but not cold, crisp with salt and pine. Gulls cried in the distance. A Terrible Terror zipped past overhead and disappeared into the trees.

Hiccup walked with his hands behind his back, eyes on the horizon like it might give him courage. You matched his pace, arms folded lightly in front of you, eyes down.

You could feel him glancing at you from time to time, but he said nothing. Not at first.

Then, finally:

“I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

You hummed in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He laughed under his breath. It was a small, self-deprecating sound.

“I deserved that.”

Another few steps passed before he tried again.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you. For a while, actually. Since we got back.”

You looked at him briefly. His eyes met yours—honest, apologetic—and dropped again.

“I didn’t mean to… I don’t know. Disappear, I guess. Things just…” He hesitated. “Got busy.”

“They always do,” you said quietly.

He winced. “I know. That’s not an excuse. I just—” He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “I never should’ve let things get like this. We used to talk about everything. And now it feels like…”

“Like we’re strangers,” you supplied.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The breeze rustled your hair. You didn’t look at him.

“It’s not just you,” you said after a moment. “We both changed.”

“But I miss you,” he said quickly, too quickly. Then quieter: “I miss who we were.”

That hurt.

Not because it wasn’t sincere. But because he didn’t seem to realize you couldn’t go back.

“People don’t stay the same forever,” you said gently. “Not even us.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer.

“Can we at least… try again?” he asked. “Even if we’re different now?”

You hesitated.

Then you gave a small nod.

You weren’t ready to give him your heart again. But maybe… maybe you could offer him your time.

You paused, fingers brushing along the edge of your sleeve as you searched for the words. When they came, they were gentle. Measured.

“It wasn’t anything either of us did,” you said quietly. “We just… drifted. Like people do.”

You looked out toward the horizon, the sea stretching endlessly below.

“Sometimes things don’t fall apart because of some big reason. Sometimes they just… fade.”

You glanced back at him, voice still soft but steady.

“It doesn’t mean it didn’t matter. It just means it didn’t last.”

Hiccup didn’t respond right away. He only stared at you���eyes shadowed, mouth slightly parted—like he was realizing something far too late.

And that, more than anything, said it all.

You had made peace with it.

But he hadn’t.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

That night, sleep didn’t come at all for Hiccup.

He lay on his back in the dim flicker of firelight, the hut quiet save for the soft puff of Toothless’s breathing beside the hearth. The air was warm, but his skin felt clammy. Every time he closed his eyes, your voice echoed in his mind—quiet, steady, and painfully final.

“It wasn’t anything either of us did… we just drifted.”

Drifted.

He’d thought the worst thing you could say to him would be that you hated him. That you were angry. That you resented how he’d left you behind.

But no. You weren’t angry. You weren’t bitter.

You’d simply moved on.

And that, somehow, made it feel worse.

Hiccup sat up and rubbed at his face, dragging his fingers through his hair with a frustrated exhale. He could still feel the weight of your gaze—the way you hadn’t flinched or raised your voice or asked for anything.

It was like you didn’t expect anything from him anymore.

And that hollowed something out inside him.

He stood and paced the floor, bare feet silent against the worn wood. The silence pressed in on him, more oppressive than any battlefield he’d known. He kept thinking back to your face—how calm it was. Not cold. Just… distant.

You used to look at him like he mattered. Like you knew every part of him and loved him anyway.

Now, he couldn’t tell if you even needed him in your life.

And maybe you didn’t.

That thought made his chest tighten with something sharp and aching. He had taken you for granted. Assumed you’d always be there. That he could pick up where you left off whenever he wanted.

But the truth was, the person you’d once been—the person who smiled at him every morning, who helped him with burns and bruises, who sat beside him and asked about things no one else noticed—was gone.

Because he hadn’t been there to grow with you.

And now… now he wasn’t sure who you were.

Or if he had any place beside you.

He returned to bed, but didn’t lie down. He sat at the edge, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. The fire crackled low, shadows crawling along the walls.

He had to do something. He couldn’t let it end like this.

He had lost too much in his life—his mother, his leg, just a couple years go, his place in the village. He couldn’t lose you, too. Not without trying.

So he made a quiet promise in the dark:

He would earn your trust again.

Even if it took everything he had.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next morning, you noticed it immediately.

The way he hovered.

Not overtly. Not enough to draw attention. But you knew him too well to miss it—the shift in his presence, the way his silhouette showed up more frequently near the healer’s hut, the quiet glances when he thought you weren’t looking.

At first, you thought it was a coincidence. Berk was small, after all. There were only so many places to be. But by the third time he passed by while you were sweeping the stone path outside, you realized it wasn’t random.

He was trying.

And it made everything worse.

Because now you couldn’t stop noticing him.

The way he stumbled over his words when he greeted you. The way he offered to help carry supplies even when you didn’t need help. The way he lingered near Gothi’s hut under the pretense of checking in on village affairs, only to leave without speaking to her at all.

It was awkward. Stilted.

And it was working.

Not because he was saying the right things—he wasn’t. Half the time, he barely said anything. But because you knew how hard it was for him to do this. To reach out. To not run from discomfort.

It should have made it easier to forgive him.

Instead, it made you feel more twisted up inside.

You caught yourself watching him again—tracking his movements when you weren’t supposed to care. Listening for his laugh. Noticing how the others still revolved around him like he was the sun they’d always followed. And you hated yourself for the flutter in your chest when he waved to you from across the village green.

One afternoon, you were sorting dried herbs into jars when the door creaked open again.

"I brought these," Hiccup said, holding out a small bundle wrapped in linen. "Sage and some of the bitterleaf you mentioned the other day. Thought Gothi might need more."

You glanced up, heart betraying you again with a quiet jolt.

"Thanks," you said carefully, taking the bundle. Your fingers brushed his, and you pulled back too quickly.

He didn’t comment.

Instead, he rocked on his heels for a moment, then asked, "Do you need help organizing?"

You gave a tight smile. "I think I’ve got it covered."

He nodded. But didn’t leave.

You didn’t tell him to go.

Eventually, he moved to the shelf beside yours, not touching anything, just standing there like the silence between you needed company.

And maybe it did.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It wasn’t the last time Hiccup came by.

Over the next few days, his visits became more frequent, though always laced with that same gentle hesitance. He never pushed, never pried—just hovered at the edges of your day, like a shadow slowly rejoining the shape it once belonged to. You didn’t stop him. You told yourself it was because he wasn’t hurting anyone. Because it was harmless. Because it was easier than telling him to go.

So when he appeared one afternoon with a crooked smile and a glint in his eye, you knew something was coming.

"I was thinking," he said, rocking back on his heels in that boyish way he used to when pitching wild ideas, "maybe you’d want to go flying with me. On Toothless."

You blinked. "Flying?"

He nodded, like it was the most casual thing in the world. "Just for a bit. Not far. Toothless could use the stretch, and the weather’s perfect."

Your stomach turned. You’d seen him take others flying—Astrid, the twins, even Fishlegs once—but never you. You’d never asked. Never thought it would happen.

"I don’t know, Hiccup. I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like that," you admitted, trying to mask the nervous edge in your voice.

"Which is exactly why you should try," he said, stepping closer, his voice softer now. "You’ll be with me the whole time. And Toothless is incredibly gentle. He’d never let anything happen to you."

Your gaze flicked past him to Toothless, who was lounging near the hill, tail twitching lazily. As if he sensed your attention, the dragon raised his head and blinked at you with wide, curious eyes.

You chewed your lip. "What if I fall?"

Hiccup smiled, almost fondly. "Then I’ll catch you. Promise."

You hesitated. Long enough that the moment nearly passed. Then, slowly, you nodded. "Alright. But if I die, I’m haunting you."

He lit up. "Deal."

Mounting Toothless was easier than you thought. Hiccup guided you through every step—how to hold the saddle, where to place your foot, how to shift your weight—and his hands were steady against your arms, his voice low and reassuring in your ear.

When you were finally settled behind him, gripping the saddle horn so tightly your knuckles ached, you could feel the warmth of his back against your front. His scent—leather, soot, and something faintly herbal—settled around you.

"Alright, Toothless. Nice and easy," Hiccup murmured, patting the dragon’s side.

Toothless purred, then crouched.

And launched.

Your stomach dropped. Wind tore through your hair. The ground vanished beneath you.

And before you could think—before you could scream—you yelled:

"GODS—FUCK—WHAT IN HELHEIM’S PITS IS THIS?!"

Hiccup jerked in surprise, laughing out loud. "Did you just—?"

"I swear on every Viking god, if you so much as tilt this beast sideways, I’ll knock your teeth out!" you bellowed, clinging to the saddle like your life depended on it.

Which, to be fair, it did.

Toothless climbed steadily, unbothered by your outburst. The world spun around you—sky above, sea below, wind slicing through your clothes like knives. Your heart raced, your stomach flipped, and your mouth kept running.

"I hate you, Hiccup. I hate you and your flying lizard and your stupid grin. Why did I think it would be a good idea to do this? I should have never let you convince me... WHY ARE WE STILL IN THE AIR?"

Hiccup was cackling by now, shoulders shaking with laughter. "You’ve never cursed in your life! This is amazing!"

"I was SAVING it for something worth the breath!"

He turned his head slightly to look back at you, grinning wide. "You alright back there?"

"NO I AM NOT ALRIGHT, I AM HAVING A FULL-BODY PANIC!"

But even as you said it—screamed it—you felt something shift. The terror was real, but so was the exhilaration. Your death grip on the saddle loosened just slightly. The wind that had terrified you moments ago now thrilled you.

You looked down. The village was a tiny cluster of dots beneath you, the sea glittering around it like scattered coins. Dragons wheeled in the distance, wings catching the sunlight. You could see forever.

And it was beautiful.

You let out a breathless, giddy laugh.

"Don’t you dare tell anyone I screamed like that," you muttered.

"Your secret’s safe with me," Hiccup replied, still grinning.

He didn’t say it, but you knew. In that moment—amid the wind and sky and curses—you had given him something. A crack in your armor. A glimpse of the person you’d once been with him.

And gods help you… you were starting to remember why you’d loved him so much.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The wind rushed past your ears, tugging at your clothes and hair as Toothless glided effortlessly through the open sky. The world spun beneath you, a dizzying whirl of green cliffs and silver sea—but the initial terror had begun to fade.

Not completely. Your knuckles still clutched the saddle. Your heart still pounded against your ribs like it was trying to escape. But there was something else now, layered beneath the panic.

Wonder.

You’d never seen Berk like this before. You’d never seen anything like this before.

Toothless banked gently, catching a warm updraft, and the motion made your stomach lurch—but not in fear, not anymore. The vastness of the sky opened around you, the wind sweeping your laughter away as soon as it left your lips.

You heard Hiccup chuckle in front of you, and you realized—mortifyingly—that you’d just let out something between a war cry and a hysterical laugh. You didn’t even care.

“You alive back there?” he called over his shoulder, his voice light, teasing.

“Don’t you dare do a roll,” you yelled, clinging tighter, half-terrified and half-joking. “I swear I will vomit all over your saddle.”

He barked a laugh. “Guess I’ll save that trick for next time, then.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Next time?”

“Well, I figured if you didn’t try to kill me midair, that meant you were open to doing it again.”

You shook your head, muttering, “You are absolutely insufferable.”

“And yet here you are,” he said with a grin you could hear in his voice. “Flying with me. Screaming your lungs out. You sure you haven’t missed me just a little?”

That made something shift in your chest. A sharp pull behind your ribs.

Because the truth was—yes. Of course you missed him. You’d never stopped missing him. You missed his terrible jokes. His awkwardness. His ability to make you feel like you were flying, even when your feet were on the ground.

But things weren’t the same anymore.

And as much as you wanted to pretend this flight meant everything was going back to the way it used to be, you knew better.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned forward slightly, resting your forehead gently against his back, trying to catch your breath—not from fear anymore, but from everything else.

He stiffened slightly, surprised. Then relaxed.

The ride slowed, the dragon’s descent gentle and careful. As Toothless began to circle back toward Berk, you found yourself wishing the ride would last just a little longer.

Because up here, in the sky, it was easy to pretend.

Pretend that no time had passed.

Pretend that he hadn’t forgotten you.

Pretend that nothing had changed.

But as the village drew closer, roofs and paths coming into focus, you felt reality creeping back in—like the cool edge of a blade.

Still, when your feet finally touched the ground again and you climbed off Toothless—legs shaking and heart still racing—you looked at Hiccup, and you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, voice hoarse from the wind and the shouting.

He blinked at you. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For the terror. The view. The... distraction.”

He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’re welcome.”

You turned away before your heart betrayed you again.

But even as you walked back toward the healer’s hut, you knew—he’d made a crack in your defenses today.

And you didn’t know whether you hated him for it.

Or hated yourself for letting it happen.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

That evening, Hiccup sat cross-legged just outside the forge, a half-finished saddle spread across his lap and soot smudged across one cheek. The sun had dipped beneath the treetops, casting the village in that golden hush before twilight. The usual clang of Gobber’s hammer was missing—he’d taken the night off, claiming that even metal needed to rest sometimes.

But Hiccup wasn’t working.

He was staring at the sea.

Toothless lay beside him, head nestled between his paws, eyes blinking lazily. Every so often, he’d flick his tail and rumble deep in his throat, trying to nudge Hiccup back into focus.

It wasn’t working.

Hiccup leaned back against the stone wall, fingers idly twisting a length of leather strap. The flight had gone well. Really well. Better than he’d expected, honestly. You hadn’t fallen off, Toothless hadn’t acted up, and by the end of it, you were even smiling. Laughing, sort of. That biting sarcasm had caught him off guard, but it had been refreshing too.

He’d forgotten how sharp your tongue could be when pushed. Forgotten how expressive your face got when you were flustered.

And for some reason, he couldn’t stop replaying it in his head.

The way you clutched the saddle horn like your life depended on it. The way you shouted curses he didn’t think you even knew. The way your voice cracked when you threatened to haunt him if you died.

It was hilarious. And kind of… cute?

Hiccup frowned slightly, shifting against the wall. Cute wasn’t the word he usually used to describe people. But he couldn’t deny that something about your panic-fueled rambling had made him laugh harder than he had in weeks.

He wasn’t sure why he’d asked you to fly with him.

No—that wasn’t true. He knew exactly why. Because he missed you. Because he hated the distance that had crept in between you over the years. Because every time he passed the healer’s hut, he remembered how you used to look up from your mortar and pestle with a smile, waving him in without a second thought.

And because… you’d always been there, hadn’t you?

Back when no one else believed in him. When his ideas were laughed at and his dragon traps misfired and he couldn’t walk through the village without someone muttering behind his back—you were the one who helped him pick up the pieces. Who treated his burns. Who asked what he was building next. Who saw something in him before anyone else did.

He’d forgotten how much that used to mean to him.

And now, it was like he was seeing you again for the first time. Like he’d been looking through the wrong lens for years, and something had finally shifted back into focus.

But he still didn’t understand why it unsettled him so much.

It wasn’t like he felt anything serious. Not really. Not like…

He didn’t finish the thought. Didn’t want to.

Instead, he looked toward the sky, where stars were beginning to pierce the blue. He let out a slow breath and leaned back on his hands.

Toothless snorted quietly beside him, eyes half-lidded.

“I don’t get it,” Hiccup murmured. “Why now?”

He wasn’t talking about you. Not exactly. He was talking about this feeling—this ache in his chest that had nothing to do with duty or dragons or battle plans.

It was like something had slipped out of place in his life and was only now trying to settle again. And it had your name on it.

But he didn’t know what to do with that.

He didn’t realize it yet.

Didn’t realize that he was starting to fall for you in the quiet, slow-burning way that snuck up on people like him. That the laughter and the nostalgia and the guilt were beginning to twist into something deeper, something tender and unshakable.

All he knew was this:

He wanted to see you again.

He wanted to make you laugh again.

And maybe… tomorrow, he’d find another excuse to do just that.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next morning, Hiccup was awake before dawn. He hadn’t needed an alarm, hadn’t even heard Toothless snoring in the corner—he just… was. His mind was wired, thoughts tangled and sharp, an endless loop of your face, your voice, your laugh from yesterday.

He hadn’t felt like that in a long time. Not even with Astrid.

That bothered him.

He shook it off, trying to focus as he washed and dressed. He’d planned to catch you before your rounds—maybe bring a wrapped bundle of herbs from the forge, say it had been left behind. Anything to make contact again.

But as he stepped out into the cool morning air and walked down toward the market, something halted him in his tracks.

You were already there.

And you weren’t alone.

Snotlout was lounging beside you near a stack of salted barrels, hands waving dramatically as he told one of his overblown stories. Probably something about dragons or women—or both.

You laughed.

Not a polite laugh. Not a nod-and-smile kind of laugh.

You really laughed.

The sound hit Hiccup like a punch to the gut.

His feet stopped moving.

There was something so vivid in your expression—your eyes were bright, crinkled at the edges, your lips parted mid-smile, and you reached out to nudge Snotlout’s arm in mock exasperation. The easy touch. The natural rhythm.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. You were free to talk to anyone.

And yet…

A strange, prickling sensation crept up the back of his neck. He didn’t even realize his fists had clenched until he felt his fingernails pressing into the skin of his palms.

Snotlout leaned a little closer. You swatted him playfully.

Hiccup’s heart thudded—slow, heavy, confused.

You had never laughed like that with him—not since you reconnected. And before that? Maybe when you were younger. But even then, it wasn’t like this. Not like you were glowing from the inside out.

He hated how much it stirred something in him. Not because he didn’t want you happy—but because he wasn’t the cause of it.

You hadn’t even noticed him standing there.

He stepped back into the shadows of a nearby archway, his breathing shallowed.

What am I doing? he thought.

But he didn’t move. He just… watched.

Something twisted deep in his gut. Jealousy, yes—but it was sharper than that. It was the slow, creeping dread of being replaced. Of being forgotten.

And Snotlout was standing where Hiccup should have been.

The back of his throat burned.

He couldn’t explain it, not even to himself—but in that moment, he wanted to walk over and stand beside you. Instead.

He wanted you to look at him like that.

Wanted to hear that laugh again—but meant for him.

Wanted to rewind time to when it had only been the two of you sneaking bread from the kitchens and giggling behind the old mead barrels. Before dragons. Before glory. Before everything complicated who they were to each other.

Toothless crept up beside him, blinking slowly.

Hiccup barely noticed.

Why did it hurt this much?

He forced himself to turn away, jaw tight, chest hollow.

But even as he walked off in the opposite direction, the echo of your laugh haunted his every step.

It followed him through the winding paths of Berk. It echoed between the forge walls as he tried to distract himself. It repeated in his mind as he watched Astrid train in the distance and felt nothing. Nothing but numbness.

Hours later, he was still thinking about it. Not just the laughter, but what it meant.

You had moved on.

And him?

He was just now realizing that maybe he never did.

The pit in his stomach grew heavier as the thought pressed in deeper.

He wasn’t just hurt. He wasn’t just nostalgic. He was—

In love.

Not new love. Not a spark. Not some recent change.

He had always loved you.

The signs had always been there. The way he always sought your opinion before anyone else’s. The way your absence had made Berk feel like a stranger’s village. The way your silence had been the one sound he couldn’t bear.

His knees felt weak, and he sat down hard on the workbench, breath shallow.

He had been so stupid.

He had walked away.

He had forgotten.

And now you were slipping through his fingers—smiling at someone else, laughing like you didn’t even miss him.

But he missed you.

He had always missed you.

And now that he remembered what he had, what he lost—he couldn’t lose you again.

He wouldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

He stood slowly, breath steadying, eyes darker than before.

If he had to start over, he would. If he had to remind you what you once had—he’d find a way. If he had to wait, to push, to earn—he’d do all of it.

You were his.

And he was done pretending otherwise.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Tags: @thatoneunripefruit, @fyophinh, @inkycapps, @taodarlington, @lilloool

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Conflict

Conflict - (in literature) is a literary device characterized by a struggle between two opposing forces.

It provides crucial tension in any story and is used to drive the narrative forward.

It is often used to reveal a deeper meaning in a narrative while highlighting characters’ motivations, values, and weaknesses.

Writing Prompts for Creating Conflict

Make a list of the forces of antagonism that are stacked against your protagonist. If you’re having trouble identifying them, answer the following questions about your protagonist:

What is their main desire?

What is their unconscious desire? (This may be the inverse, or related to the main desire.)

What is the worst thing that can happen to this character?

What is something even worse that can happen to this character?

What people, institutions, or forces can bring this about? Include a description of how they do that.

How to Create Conflict in Your Writing

To create conflict for your protagonist, you’ll need forces of antagonism that work against them. In genre writing, antagonists are usually arch-villains, but they don’t have to be people—they can be any oppositional element that thwarts your character’s main desire.

In crafting this conflict, it’s helpful to remember some basic principles of antagonism:

The stronger the forces of antagonism are, the more well-developed your character will become.

The conflict should be tailored to your protagonist’s main desire.

Antagonism has to increase with time, or you’ll lose the reader’s interest.

Types of Literary Conflict

Just like it takes two to tango, it also takes two (or more) to create conflict. What you choose to pit your characters against will have a significant effect on what kind of story you tell. Many stories contain multiple types of conflict, but there is usually one that is the main focus.

Character vs. Self. This is an internal conflict, meaning that the opposition the character faces is coming from within. This may entail a struggle to discern what the moral or “right” choice is, or it may also encompass mental health struggles. All other types of conflict are external—meaning that a character comes up against an outside force that creates the conflict.

Character vs. Character. This is a common type of conflict in which one character’s needs or wants are at odds with another’s. A character conflict can be depicted as a straightforward fist fight, or as intricate and nuanced as the ongoing struggle for power in the HBO series Game of Thrones.

Character vs. Nature. In a nature conflict, a character is set in opposition to nature. This can mean the weather, the wilderness, or a natural disaster. For example, in Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, the main character, Santiago finally manages to reel in a fish after months and months of bad luck. He fends off sharks, who are trying to steal his prized catch, but eventually they eat the fish—leaving Santiago with only a carcass. This is the essence of the man versus nature conflict: man struggles with human emotions, while nature charges forth undeterred.

Character vs. Supernatural. Pitting characters against phenomena like ghosts, gods, or monsters raises the stakes of a conflict by creating an unequal playing field. Supernatural conflict also covers characters, like Odysseus, who have a fate or destiny and struggle to accept the sacrifices that come along with it.

Character vs. Technology. In this case, a character is in conflict with some kind of technology. Think of the tale of John Henry, the African American folk hero. In American folklore, Henry was a former slave who worked as a steel-driver on the rail line. To prove his superiority over new technology, he raced a steam-powered rock drilling machine and won. However, he suffered a heart attack after winning the race.

Character vs. Society. A character vs. society conflict is an external conflict that occurs in literature when the protagonist is placed in opposition with society, the government, or a cultural tradition or societal norm of some kind. Characters may be motivated to take action against their society by a need to survive, a moral sense of right and wrong, or a desire for happiness, freedom, justice, or love.

Internal vs. External Conflict

All conflict falls into two categories:

Internal conflict is when a character struggles with their own opposing desires or beliefs. It happens within them, and it drives their development as a character.

External conflict sets a character against something or someone beyond their control. External forces stand in the way of a character’s motivations and create tension as the character tries to reach their goals.

Including both internal and external conflict is crucial for a good story, because life always includes both.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[leggerefiore]

Do the dragons enjoy being groomed in their true forms? Like washing them with a cloth and polishing their scales?

like.... like washing a car....

cw: bathing, short

pairing: Longan, Ananas, Pitaya, Lotus, Lychee

👁Longan Dragon Cookie🌟

⚪️ When you offered to help them bathe in their true form, they felt your memories must have finally been returning. Such an activity is common practice between mates, after all. It is the perfect blend of intimacy and trust. So, naturally, they accepted. It had been quite a while since another had helped them bathe. They take on their true form in a chamber within their palace just for bathing. Their massive form towers above you even as they lie down. Their eyes are upon you as they await your aid.

⚪️ The water is warm as you stand beside them and begin to scrub at their scales. You watched as old, dried layers peeled away to reveal newer growths underneath. Longan was unmoving as you tended to their body. It was oddly comforting, just going piece by piece to scrub at the scales. Admittedly, it was a bit more time-consuming than you expected due to their true size being so massive. But, as you got to their face, you realised you had finished up. The armour-like, golden scales were polished atop their back. Eye stared into you with something oddly tender inside. “My mate,” they shifted into their mortal form, “Allow me to repay this.” Your turn to be scrubbed.

🍍Ananas Dragon Cookie🏖

🟡 Your offer went right to Ananas's heart. They knew you lacked the knowledge of how important bathing together was for dragons, but hearing it nonetheless made them quite happy. It is accepted without hesitation. You are led through the halls of their nest to an underground hot spring. Quickly transforming into their true form, they sit down to make it easier for you to tend to them.

🟡 The water was warm as you began to scrub at the golden scales. Dried patches came off as you went, revealing newer, sparkling scales underneath. Ananas was oddly silent as you went, seemingly closing their eyes and disassociation for a moment. You continued your actions in an oddly meticulous trance. There was even attention laid onto their wings, watching the sensitive flesh shift to let you be more thorough. In the end, you stepped back and were proud of your work. Ananas looked entirely renewed – not that they looked bad before. The dragon's attention fell on you. “… My darling,” they shifted into their mortal form and moved to grasp your hands, “Please allow me to return the favour!” Ananas was determined to hold their pride as your mate.

🗡Pitaya Dragon Cookie🍉

🔴 Your offer shocked the dragon a bit. Scrub… them? Pitaya knew mortals lacked knowledge about dragon customs, but the offer was still a bit startling. Well, it was not like you both were not mates. They agreed and debated where to go for a bath. Picking you up to fly in their true form, they headed off in a direction of a hot spring in the Dragon's Valley. After they landed, they got into the hot water and sighed. It had been a moment since their last proper bath.

🔴 The size difference was a bit difficult to overcome for what you needed to do, but you somehow managed. Scrubbing away at the scales, you watched dull, lifeless scales come off to reveal brighter red ones underneath. It was oddly fun to focus on bringing out a new shine to the dragon. Pitaya was silent but seemed very much at peace. You went across their entire body, even scrubbing at the wings with aid from them in spreading them. Ultimately, you cupped their massive snout and smiled. Pitaya's eyes focused on you. Then, they shifted to the mortal form. “Ssso,” they pulled you into the water with them without hesitation, “It isss your turn. Ssstrip.”

🪷Lotus Dragon Cookie🌊

🔵 Part of the dragon wanted to chuckle at your unknowing offer. To bathe with a dragon was chief among intimate activities and a sigh of unrelenting trust… Of course, Lotus held that towards you, but they felt as if their true form was tended to well enough. But, the more instinctual part of their brain eventually relented to such a request. Bathing with you was far more pleasant a thought than they expected. They guided you through the halls of the palace to their bathing chambers and then shifted into their true form.

🔵 The dragon watched as you went in with a wash cloth and dotingly scrubbed at their scales. You watched as dry patches peeled away to reveal a tranquil blue underneath. A certain peace overcame you as you focused on the task entirely. It was a little bit more difficult than you would have liked to admit due to the size difference, but you managed to scrub the entirety of the dragon. Their scales seemed more inclined to the water after you finished and wiped your brow. Lotus looked at themself before shifting back into the mortal form. “My treasure,” they took your hand, “Allow me to repay you. Join me in the bath.” Could you decline such an earnest invitation?

💜Lychee Dragon Cookie🍇

🟣 The Violet Dragon tensed up at your offer. How unexpected! They knew you had no idea what that meant to a dragon, so something smug overcame them. Ohhhh, you wanted to do something sooo intimate with them? Well, who were they to decline! Lychee pretty much grabs your wrist and guides you through their cave until they come across a natural warm pool. They shifted into their true form and splash inside the water, looking at you intently.

🟣 You found a cloth to use and gently became to scrub at the dragon's body. Dried scales peeled away to reveal more vibrant scales underneath. Lychee hummed contentedly as you tended to them. It was admittedly not much work due to the dragon's smaller size. But, washing the fluff on their back required a momentary focus alongside their wings. Their tail was probably the hardest part. You announced that you were finished and stepped away. Lychee looked over at your work and smirked. Shifting into their mortal form, they pulled you into the water with them. “What a good mate you are,” they teased and grabbed their own cloth, “Let me prove what a good one I am, too!” It was bath time for you, too.

[cinamun]

Chapter 26: Wrapped!

Friends, here we are, at the end of yet another chapter in this, the saga that never ends. Its been a little less intense than previous chapters, but full of monumental achievements for some key characters.

Let's jump in to a chapter recap, shall we?

Hope & Jayce

The chapter would begin and end with Hope and Jayce Carruthers growing the years long bond they have with one another (growing together, if you will). At the close of the previous chapter, we saw Hope losing it; staying at home with two infants was the cause of overwhelming stress. That, endless laundry and the feeling of worthlessness consumed her. A break was desperately needed to reset, so that's exactly what they did.

The baecay was the perfect way to regroup, reset and rest. Through this time away in Strangerville, they were able to confront an important impediment: Hope's fear of change and/or failure - something she often struggles with. After a wild ride (pun very much intended) in the bedroom on their final night in The Ville, Hope was more determined than ever to buy a pool and start her dream of training young, future simlympic athletes.

But not without a cost:

As it would turn out, the opportunity presented itself, but Hope didn't know if it was worth it. And when a nasty dream violently ripped her from her sleep...

she was ready to let the pool, training and all her hopes and dreams go. She doesn't need anything that will trigger past trauma in her life and a dollhouse paid the ultimate price because of it.

We close out this chapter with a new journey for Hope and Jayce and we're certainly very hopeful for the future.

Jack & Jayde

As for the twins...

Surrounded by their entire family, they aged up into toddlers in Chapter 26!! They're both thriving and growing fast. They've started preschool and are learning new skills everyday! I'm sure the next chapter will bring more milestones, more skills and more abundant love from the village that surrounds them.

Darren Jr.

Ah yes, DJ. In Chapter 26, he graduated from Foxbury with a degree in engineering. Some hard lessons were learned during his college years as seen in the previous chapter. It was these lessons that made him turn to self-reflection and discovery, finding out that pro ball wasn't his passion and neither were the women that surrounded pro-ballers. In fact, a surprise visit at his graduation party solidified that.

It seems that, like his older sister, he, too, was confroted with his past in this chapter. He needed the closure, he felt more complete after the visit and could focus on life after college. He scored a nice corporate gig with his fancy new degree and moved to a bachelor pad in Ravenwood where the cost of living was lower, but not without some teasing from his loved ones.

The routine of simulated life became easy for Darren to get used to (yes, he goes by Darren now... him grown). His routine, however, was abruptly interrupted during a chance meeting at the train station while leaving his 9 to 5.

Where will it go? Where will it lead? Perhaps chapter 27 will answer that for us.

Mercy

As for Mercy, the devoted mother-in-law and grandmother, it was time to confront her past and uncover the truth - hence the name of the chapter itself!

While she was absolutely done with what she considered a waste of time, a good friend told her that she should reconsider therapy and not give up so easily. Mercy knew what was at stake if she didn't and she wanted, after so many years, to finally close out the most painful chapter of her life - one that sent her down a spiral and almost caused her to lose her relationship with her son, Jayce.

She did what she had to do, and we will speak no further of the events that immediately followed.

Speaking of Jayce, though, he needed the truth, too. So, Mercy gave it to him. All of it. She accepted his relationship with Eva and encouraged it with love in her heart, no matter how much it hurt.

I believe, that she is stronger, and her relationship with Jayce is stronger, because of it.

Indira Dior

Finally, Indira. She wants to become an actress, but getting there (as we learned in the previous chapter) was becoming harder and harder. That is, until an introduction in the previous chapter that would change her trajectory. Now that THEE Penny Pizzazz has taken an interest in her, Indira is set up for success, but Penny's pesky sister could be a deal-breaker.

After agreeing to a modeling contract (and not really reading it), Indira's career was set. She was now modeling for the most respected agency in the all the worlds, managed by one of the most respected agents in all the worlds.

And again, at what cost?

The contract, which controllled every inch of Dira, was the cause of a major rift between Indira and her mother. Indya didn't like that she wasn't consulted or that Indira felt she needed to stay out of her mom's shadow. Indya would happily move out of the way so her daughter could shine! She'd been retired for awhile, so why did Dira feel like her mother's input wasn't needed? As it would turn out, Indya was right about that dangerous contract.

Penny (and her sister) were already trying to make Dira conform to standards of beauty that just weren't what Dira wanted. In fact, her photographer, Trevor Stone, stuck his neck out for her. He knew what Dira could do and wouldn't let Penny or her sister change a thing. Trevor saw a covergirl, so, after he gained Dira's trust, that's exactly what he shot.

And it paid off big time with Dira landing the cover of a huge magazine and officially staking her claim on the modeling industry.

You could say that all was going well for Indira, however as was the case with her sister, and her brother, the past has a sneaky way of reminding you where you've been.

Oh man, this one was certainly a trigger for her and now that her face is plastered everywhere, what does this mean for her safety? What does it mean for old feelings she had? Hopefully chapter 27 will show us if this was just a chance encounter, or more...

~~~~~

Wow, what a ride chapter 26 has been as we focused on the growth of the children (and grandchildren!) or Mr. and Mrs. Drake. Chapter 27 is sure to bring changes, obstacles and even more growth for our main characters.

I hope you'll stay tuned as there is plenty of henny and lemon pepper wings leftover in the Ratchet Reading Room™.

[xdinari]

Valentine's Tradition

summary you and your best friend have always spent valentine's together since you're both single, but this year something's different

word count 4,210

tags they both think it's unrequited (it's not), gender-neutral op, heart-felt, funny, fluff, best friends to lovers, bi jiseok, amusement park, they are so in love it's sickening, oblivious x oblivious, dumb & dumber, getting together, happy ending, comfort for myself, jiseok is so cute I'm gonna--

Being friends with Jiseok was probably one of the best things that’s ever happened to you: partially, because he was the only person that knew more about the dead matter than trends, which made him an easy target, but also because he was the most stupid genius you’ve ever met.

That’s all you could think of as you’re currently sitting on his bed behind him, trying to untangle the hair stuck with chewing gum. “Who the fuck takes a nap with gum in their mouth, I swear to god-” You mumble to yourself as the man was wincing, trying to defend himself.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose! I was just on my phone and next thing I know I’m her-OW!Can you be more gentle?? I’m sensitive!” Your friend complains, to which you simply reply by pulling on his hair once, earning a loud groan from the other. “I’m starting to regret calling you over.”

The remark only makes you chuckle, holding back a smile as you shake your head twice. “You didn’t, it’s Valentine’s, I’m always here on Valentine’s.” Jiseok huffs with a hidden beam, looking back at you.

“And who had that idea three years ago?” He asks proudly, fluttering his eyes, your own rolling as you force his head to its original position, ordering him to stay still as you focus on the piece stuck in his hair.

“Okay I think I got it.” You say, Jiseok giving you a questioning look, but before he could even process you reaching over the scissors on his desk, a chunk of his hair was cut off.

As soon as the clipping sound is heard, he reaches over the back of his hair with wide eyes, frantically touching it as he jolts his head towards you, eyes getting even bigger as he sees the piece of hair with gum being held between your fingers.

“I ASKED YOU FOR HELP, NOT TO MAKE ME BALD!” He whines, taking the piece of hair in his hand and holding it close to his chest dramatically.

You laugh and call him stupid, before getting up, making your way to the living room. “So, do we have to go buy snacks or there’s enough?” You ask, only to be stopped by Jiseok’s hand dragging you back inside his room.

“Actually…I was thinking we could do something different this year.” He suggests a hint of nervousness tugging at his voice. You tilt your head confused, blinking a couple times.

The tradition of you two spending Valentine’s together because you were single started well…three years ago, because funnily enough you met on that same day by complete chance as his boyfriend broke up with him in the most romantic day of the year (asshole) so he had no other choice than to watch the stupid romantic movie by himself at the cinema.

The cinema you were at to watch a movie by yourself because your friends ditched it at the last minute so there you were, tired, annoyed and next to Jiseok because you were somehow stupid enough to mistake the room number and instead of a horror movie, a rom-com was about to start and by the time you realized, it was too late to leave so you just accepted your faith.

Your friendship started around halfway through the movie when you muttered a snarky comment under your breath about the main character, earning a cackle from Jiseok, who was trying to hold in a laugh, head ducked down. When you turned your attention to him, small giggles leaving your lips as well, you somehow knew he was about to be a constant in your life.

Becoming friends with Jiseok was easy: he was fun, intelligent and he was the only person that could make you go from sobbing with snot running down your face to holding your stomach from laughter in less than ten minutes.

Falling for Jiseok was so easy too, he was, and still is, the most loveable human you’ve come across. Loving Jiseok is easy because Jiseok himself is easy to love, and although you’ve spent the last year stealing glances at him and quietly crying yourself to sleep when he’d go on a (thankfully) failed date, you wouldn’t have it any other way because having Jiseok in your life, even as simply a friend, was more than enough.

However, Jiseok suggesting you two do something different made your brain go into overdrive for a few moments, thoughts about him figuring out you like him and wanting to pull away racing through your mind before he speaks up, interrupting your train of thought: “I wanna go to the amusement park!”

You blink at him, tilting your head curious. “The amusement park?” You frown, letting yourself be pulled closer by the man, his hands gentle but secure around your wrists as he smiles down at you, making it harder and harder to stop yourself from glancing down at his lips.

“Yep yep, they’re doing a Valentine’s special this year, I heard even the House of Terror is Love Themed!” He grins wider, letting go of your wrists to wiggle his hands in front of your face, causing you to let out an annoyed scoff, looking to the side before turning your attention back to your friend.

“You couldn’t have told me that before I came over in sweatpants? I don’t even have a jacket with me, I thought we’d stay inside!” You complain, playfully hitting his chest a couple times, but the taller simply smiles softly, mimicking your head tilt.

“You look good, it’s better to be comfortable for the rides than to dress flashy, you know that. Plus, I can land you one of my hoodies, don’t be so dramatic, it’s not as if you don’t have options.” He raises an eyebrow, opening his closet for you to look through it. “But if you don’t feel like it, that’s fine too.”

You roll your eyes and complain about him being annoying, because that’s safer than kissing his cheek because he’s stupidly cute and mindful of your comfort. Wearing Jiseok’s clothes was something you’ve been doing for years because admittedly, he had good taste and it was more convenient than walking around with a bag of clothes whenever you had a sleepover.

However, lately, it’s something you avoided doing because wearing his clothes meant having his cologne lingering on your body even hours after you’ve taken it off and it only served as a painful reminder that you need to bite your tongue and if not forget, at least ignore your feelings for him, because he doesn’t deserve to lose you as a friend or feel uncomfortable.

Suppressing your feelings for Jiseok has been hard, but you would consider yourself to be quite a good actor. The way you act is still the same, and yet it’s been harder and harder to hold yourself back from blurting out your feelings for him, especially since your brain has been in overdrive and has been trying to convince you that he is testing the waters with you because he likes you too.

Foolish thoughts, truly, how could Jiseok ever like you? He’s everything you’re not and you’re just…you. Even with all that in mind, when he swiftly places his hand on your lower back to pass you by and grab his own hoodie when there was plenty of space for him, when he hugs you just a bit too long or when he smiles at you with fond eyes when he thinks you’re not looking, you can’t help but wonder if it would really be that bad of an idea to give it a shot.

“Okay, so I was thinking, we get the food, we do the carts, then the Terror House and maaaybbee the Jumping Frog after?” He clasps his hands together, eyes squinting as he looks around. You find yourself smiling at him with your head tilted to the side, the only thing on your mind being how pretty the glint in his eyes looks, before pulling yourself together, clearing your throat when he looks back at you.

“You really think having food before any of that is a good idea?” You challenge with an unimpressed look, to which the older whines cutely.

“But I’m hungry, I didn’t think you’d agree with this so I was saving myself for the family sized pizza we would’ve ordered!” He pouts, hands rubbing his face dramatically.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you grab his wrist, tiredly dragging him to the closest food truck. “You’re impossible, you know?”

“That’s exactly what makes this friendship so interesting.” He scoffs, poking his tongue out before ordering food for the both of you. “Then should we do the arcade spot first?” He asks while eating and walking around, entering the venue once he finishes his food before letting you reply.

“Sure Jiseok, Let’s go inside, I agree with your idea, thank you so much for considering my feelings!” You mumble to yourself, only for Jiseok to mock you cutely, handing you one of the toy guns attached to the machine he decided to stop at. Giving him a nasty look as you started the game was useless because he knew you always let him get his way, and this time was no different.

You two have been to the amusement park before, but that was before that night when he came over your house after midnight unannounced, hair a mess and red eyes asking if he could stay over because his crush at the time liked someone else and he needed you, making you realize that if it was Jiseok, it didn’t matter you had a midterm the next morning, or that you’ve been feeling like shit yourself, because you’d much rather hug him and watch stupid science documentaries for six hours than let him feel like he’s not the easiest person to love in the world.

It’s not like you didn’t know before that, it’s more that you didn’t quite allow yourself to feel it, but when his head was laying on your lap, eating ice cream while overexplaining the string theory, switching to guitar talk and then ending up telling you about the time he stabbed his toe in class so hard they had to take him to the nurse’s office in the span of five minutes, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you were playing with his hair and wishing you could kiss him to make him shut up before he chokes on his food.

So now, being with Jiseok, holding onto his arm as you two were screaming your lungs out as you were walking around the Terror House, was different. It was different because when you two stumbled against a wall and you found yourself pressed before the hard surface and Jiseok’s chest that was moving due to his laughter, for some reason, the space between your faces seemed to get even smaller, and you could swear you saw him catch his breath while looking into your eyes.

The Gyro Spin was…uncomfortable to say the least. The MCs kept alluding to you and Jiseok being a couple no matter how many times you corrected them, being held closely by him wrapping his arm around you securely, surely didn’t help the accusations. As the machine got more aggressive, the both of you started moving more and at some point, Jiseok pulled you on his lap bridal style so he could wrap his arm around your legs protectively and hold onto the balustrade with his free hand while laughing.

You laugh too, partially because it was a funny situation, partially because your bodies were glued together and you were starting to feel like you were losing your mind. “Uhhh you wanna kiss meee!” Jiseok teases playfully when your face gets closer to him because of a sudden move of the machine.

The worst part is, he was right. You were trying to think of a witty reply but all you could blurt out was “So what if I do, huh?” You yell while gripping harder on the balustrade, and you could swear Jiseok’s brain malfunctions at that, eyes going wide as he stops in his tracks, grip loosening, making you both fall on the floor as the ride ends, earning a groan from you as he falls on top of you.

“Shit, are you alright?” He laughs, voice higher than intended as he helps you get up and walks with you, hands brushing your clothes off dirt, choosing to ignore your previous statement. Good. Maybe he’s oblivious enough to think of it as a sarcastic remark and never bring it up again. Good.

The sun settled already, and you were about to suggest going home since it was late, but Jiseok had other plans. “Hey uhm, so, do you wanna go on the ferris wheel?” He asks, stumbling over his words, voice more insecure than usual.

You shoot him a questioning look, glancing at the attraction and then back at him. “Isn’t that too romantic?” You try to joke, voice slightly shaky, not because the idea of being suspended meters in the air with him was unpleasant, but because this entire day felt like a torture chamber, like a trial of what life would’ve been like if he was your boyfriend, and the last thing you needed right now was to get on the most romantic attraction at the fair, knowing you are in fact not together and that you will in fact not kiss when you reach the top.

Jiseok blinks, a bit taken aback by your reply, expression falling slightly, a hint of hurt noticeable behind his eyes that he tries to quickly mask with a laugh and a shake of his head. “Ah, you’re probably right, let’s just go home, it’s late anyways!”

You frown slightly, grabbing a hold of his hoodie once he turns around to leave, making him stop in his tracks. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.” You admit in a more vulnerable tone than intended, the other’s face instantly lighting up.

“I love youuuu!” Jiseok chimes happily kissing your cheek, before rushing to buy the tickets, and now it’s you who stops in your tracks, before shaking your head. Right, he loves you, as a friend. It’s something he says on a daily basis, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

You underestimated just how painfully stressful being on that ferris wheel with Jiseok would be. The atmosphere wasn’t uncomfortable, it was peaceful silence as you both looked at the lit up stands at the fair and stars in the sky. It felt oddly intimate.

“Thanks.” Jiseok breaks the silence with a quiet voice.

You tear your attention from the moon and look at him, a slightly puzzled look on your face as you smile. “For what?”

“Agreeing to this, I know you don’t like changing plans last minute.” He says in a guilty tone, your eyes instantly softening. Fuck, You really really love him.

“It’s not that big of a change, we’re still keeping the tradition of spending it together. If you were to change that, I would’ve killed you.” You threaten playfully, earning a wholehearted laugh from your friend, his head thrown back before he looks back at you.

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to make sure to spend Valentine’s with you for the rest of my life, no matter what the circumstances?” Jiseok grins teasingly, eyes sparkling as he looks at you, arm wrapping around your seat, face getting closer to you.

“Of course, I’m always supposed to be a priority.” You try to joke, but it comes more like a shaky whisper when you feel the other’s hot breath close to you.

“You’ve always been a priority.” The black haired man whispers back sincerely, and you feel yourself gulping at the statement, wanting to cry so badly, because he is an evil person for saying such things and not meaning them in the way you want him to.

“You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean to sound that romantic when being stuck 250 meters in the air, Jiseok.” You argue in a small voice, eyes shifting to look down, trying your best to keep your composure.

“I never said I didn’t mean for it to sound romantic, though.” He corrects in a gentle tone, getting his face closer to you, his hand cautiously cupping your jaw and making you look at him.

You gulp once more, eyes scanning over his face as he does as well, and in your insanity, you could swear he is leaning closer. Before you could stop yourself you say: “What are you doing?”

Any other day, this would’ve sent Jiseok into a frenzy and made him do something stupid like pinch your cheek and play this off as him messing around with you, but with the way his thumb feels your pulse quicken and the fact that you’re not pulling away, he’s never been more sure of something in his life as he is in this very moment, that this is exactly what he’s supposed to do.

“Making sure you’ll be a priority next Valentine’s too.” He whispers with a small smile, eyes closing before his lips capture yours into a soft and slow kiss, as if testing the waters. Your breath hitches, and you have to resist the urge to pinch your thigh to make sure you’re not dreaming because if you are, you don’t want to wake up.

Jiseok is about to pull away after a short kiss, figuring you’re not kissing back because you don’t feel the same way, because he’s stupid and idiotic and how could he ever think that? So, before he gets to stop the kiss, you start kissing him back slowly, moving your body closer to his, hands holding onto the hem of his hoodie, a silent plea for him to not pull away.

A quiet laugh escapes his lips, more relieved than mocking, before he cups your face with both of his hands and starts kissing you more confidently, a wide smile spreading across his face when your fists tighten on the material of his hoodie. “You’re going to stretch my clothes.” He whispers jokingly between kisses.

“Please for once in your life, shut the fuck up.” You whisper back with a smile, earning a chuckle from the other who hums once before hugging your waist while kissing you, your own arms moving around his neck, holding him closer.

Eventually, you pull away, Jiseok’s forehead resting against yours, eyes still closed as he tries to calm his shaky breaths, unable to hide his smile and thumbs gently tracing patterns on the side of your waist. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that…” He sighs, opening his eyes to look at you, your hands now caressing his face, a stupid smile present on your face.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been wanting to do it for longer.” You argue, and when he shoots you a questioning look, you chuckle, taking a strand of hair out his eyes. “The night you came over crying because your crush liked someone else?”

“And who do you think was responsible for that?” He scoffs, making you widen your eyes as you point to yourself offended at the accusation. “Yeah, you! Can’t believe you liked Hyeongjun…he’s not even that good at guitar he just uses a lot of overdrive…”

At that, you can’t help but break into laughter, pulling away slightly to get a better look at him. “Where even did you get that idea from? Wait, that’s what made you come over like a kicked puppy and make me lose sleep before an exam??”

“I mean, the guys were talking about how much time you two were spending time together- and Jooyeon! That fucker said he saw you hug Hyeongjun! He doesn’t just hug anyone, you know?! Plus, asking a guy to teach you guitar is like Flirting 101, everyone knows that.” Jiseok scoffs while ranting, arms loosening around you but still keeping his hands on your waist.

You laugh more, shaking your head as you look at his pout fondly, pinching his neck. “You’re too stupid for someone this smart.” You note, poking your tongue back at him when he does. “We were hugging because he felt bad that I had to keep giving you romance advice knowing I liked you and I asked him not you because as you said, it is flirting 101, why would I want to make it obvious I had feelings for you and ruin our friendship, idiot?” You explain, a rage of emotions present on Jiseok’s face for each sentence that leaves your lips.

“Say that again.” Jiseok demands with a stupid grin present on his face, completely disregarding everything else you just said.

“Say what? That you’re an idiot? Gladly.” You squint unimpressed, but that doesn’t seem to bother the other who was too busy looking at you with big doe eyes and a bigger smile.

“And you like me.” He adds, to which you roll your eyes, stupid grin forming on your lips as well, because sadly, he’s right. Kind of. “You like meeeee!” He giggles, twirling his finger in front of you teasingly.

“Yeah, Yeah, I like you, so what? You like me too, you’re no better.” You glare at him, to which the black haired boy cutely shakes his head.

“Wrong!” He argues, voice stern, and your stomach flips unpleasantly.

“Wrong?” You blink, your voice quieter, wondering for a split moment if he is that evil to joke to this extent with you.

“Wroonnng!” He nods, now cutely nodding. “I love you.” He smiles, head tilting, voice as confident as ever. Your eyes widen and your voice gets stuck in your throat, but as you open your mouth, Jiseok waves a dismissive hand, smiling reassuringly. “You don’t have to, my feelings are mine and I’m sure of them, but you don’t have to say it back now.”

You were about to reply, but before you know it, your seatbelt is being unbuckled by the amusement park staff and you’re brought back to reality, so you bite back what you really wanted to say, because it feels like the opportunity was missed.

Jiseok, however, doesn’t seem to mind it. Quite on the contrary, he seems to be on cloud nine, smile not once leaving his lips and his doe eyes shining brighter than the stars. “Do we still do the sleepover?” You ask as you start walking, feeling the taller’s hand easily slip into yours, interlocking your fingers.

“Mmh, tradition is tradition.” He nods solemnly, pecking you once before walking towards the bus. And pecking you once more when you get inside the bus…and off the bus…and once in the middle of the street…and once more before opening his apartment door and…really every few minutes.

You’re not particularly complaining, it’s just that you’re still not sure this is a dream, and Jiseok has been having a blast doing whatever to you and have your only reaction be a shocked face and frozen body with eventual confirmation that you’re not against him being physically affectionate or him pulling you on his lap bridal style to watch the romcom you had in mind.

The last thing you remember is Jiseok’s lips kissing your temple continuously as he gently caressed your hair, your head resting on his chest while you looked up at him, the movie being the least interesting part of your night right now, still too afraid to pinch your thigh to test whether this was a dream or not.

When you wake up, you bury your face deeper into what you come to quickly realize is Jiseok’s neck, and when you feel your body be held closer, you look up only to see a messy haired and puffy faced Jiseok smile down at you, a raspy “Hi” leaving his lips before leaning down to kiss you shortly, nose brushing against yours once.

That was enough confirmation for you to understand last night was not a dream, so you cup his face and pull him in a loving kiss, earning a pleased hum from the older who simply wraps his arms around you tighter, smiling in the kiss. “Jiseok?” You whisper.

“Hm?” He hums once again, because morning Jiseok was a very quiet Jiseok.

“I love you too.” You whisper, and at that, the man pulls away with wide eyes, a shaky breath leaving his lips before erupting into a series of giggles, eyes sparkling, smile bigger than ever before.

“Say that again before I kill myself thinking I imagined it, please.” He begs cutely, making you laugh as you repeat it, eyes locked with his, your hands squishing his cheeks.

He squeals happily, hugging you as tightly as he can, before kissing you lovingly, mumbling a bunch of I love you’s, the room filled with soft laughs, and the rest of the morning consisting of small kisses and hugs.

It turns out, Jiseok wasn’t only easy to love, you were too, and somehow you were lucky enough to be loved by him of all people.

THE END

[perfctvelvet]

Idk if I requested this already (I have a memory of a goldfish lol) but can you do some Jenna Ortega angst+smut please?

UNCOMPLICATED.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega/Reader

Summary: Always hopelessly wanting, chasing, reader begins to accept her place in Jenna's life. Content: 3rd POV, angst, unrequited loved, friends with benefit, oral (reader receiving). minors dni. A/N: I've gotten a few angst requests for Jenna so I'll combine some of them, but also try to get to the other ones that are a little different. It's a short one with less focus on smut, but I've been thinking about doing a mini-series and it just might be this. I won't make any promises but you never know what the future holds....enjoy.

Easy, fun, and uncomplicated.

That is how most of the people surrounding you would describe you. They weren't close friends or even people you knew growing up. The people who called you the life of the party were just as desperate as you in navigating this messy life cultivated for themselves in the LA scene. There was really no one you would consider trustworthy enough to be vulnerable with, but you didn't need vulnerability when their acceptance gave you a better high than any drug. Of course that bled into your love life.

To call it a love life would be comical, but it was something you bragged about to your "friends" and dropped hints about on your socials. You knew that you had eyes on you watching for a glimpse of someone you met randomly at a party. The hints were to tease and keep the attention on you. So much of your behavior could be consider desperate for someone who doesn't give you back half of what you give.

Jenna liked to be around you, like to talk to you from time to time, but she loved to party with you. You were easy, fun, and uncomplicated, perfect to quench her thirst. It was so fun at first; the expensive gits, dinners, and being flown to wherever Jenna was working. All fun and games until your body sunk into her bed for what felt like the hundredth time and there was a weird warmth in your belly.

"You're so fucking sexy," she whispered before licking the bare skin of your lower belly. Her words were nothing out of the ordinary, but that particular night they vibrated against your skin in a different way.

It wasn't the usual feeling of anticipation, or even nerves, it was something complete different. What it was revealed yourself when you positioned with your knees digging into the bed and face smushed that you almost said the words, "I love you."

You were absolutely terrified of the hold Jenna had over you. Suddenly those nights of dropping everything to get to her felt irrational, but you craved more of it as if it would help your prove yourself to her. As if there was a ever a chance for love to bloom here. Quickly those were swallowed because you knew that would end whatever the hell this was. Even if it wasn't what you wanted, it was better than nothing.

'u free tonight?'

Jenna never texted you to say hi or ask how your day was. She only reached out to see if you would be at a party or if you could come over to fuck, with the latter being the usual question. You were always there, and yet you had nothing to show for it. No official statements, no cute instagram posts, and no true affection. Jenna was kind and respectful in this unspoken arrangement, but you weren't her colleague, you were the woman she's consistently. However, no matter how much warmth her texts lacked, you were always quick to respond.

'yes, I'll be there at 10.'

At 10pm you were at her door, and by 10:15 you were in her bed with your panties discarded and Jenna between your legs.

"I need this," she pants, trying to catch her breath after being between your legs for a good few minutes.

The way your arousal glistens on her mouth and chin makes your heart flutter. Jenna was a messy eater, always so eager to eat you out until you were shaking and cumming hard against her mouth. She was nothing short of generous and that's what made her your favorite fuck. No one seemed to pay attention and actually remember all the little things you loved in bed. It's what made you delusion sometimes.

"Jenna please..." you begin to beg, not wanting to go a second longer with her mouth away from your pussy.

Always the kind one, Jenna bends her head lower between your legs and begins to feast on you again. Her week was long as hell, absolutely brutal, and by Friday afternoon she knew exacted what she needed and that was you. She needed the distraction from her complicated life with the girl who makes it uncomplicated.

[moon-mage]

Hey everyone! So @arceus-insanity asked me for more information about my alternate ideas from the N2 Squad Slayer poll…and of course I am happy to share! :D Thank you for asking!

I had the week FROM HELL and was only going to give a synopsis but writing this is really taking my mind off the bullshit and it’s not like i'm going to flesh this story anymore than I have in my head so it’s going to be a yap-a-thon of concepts. It's kinda long so yeah. I will write Leona's another time. :D

Some warnings for usual horror vampire stuff like blood, violence, death/undeath, mind control/manipulation, SEXY SPICY SPICE but NOTHING is super graphic.

VIL SCHOENHEIT THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

Vil Schoenheit was a childhood actor who suddenly took a break from acting. He claimed it was to focus more on his studies…but in reality…he had been summoned as a slayer. This world would possibly take place in the EARLY 2010’s. Where tech is just starting to advance but NOT quite yet. The supernatural is still a myth to a LOT of people. So Vil has to hide this slayer part of himself to the common world…but at the same time the supernatural world is VERY aware who he is.

Vil was not trained or raised as a Slayer and relies much more on his instincts and his proficiency in magic. The watchmen council are at a loss because of his fame…they can’t just take him and force him into their bidding…and interfering would put unwanted attention on the supernatural world…so they basically just hope he dies soon as most untrained slayers do.

But…Vil kinda has a rag tag team of friends that help him with keeping the peace at a discreet level. 

Rook - who is basically a vampire nerd and low key knows way too much about the supernatural than any human should know. He was “coincidentally” there when Vil had gained his slayer powers….

Epel - a half-vampire who had tried to kill Vil for his slayer blood but Vil kicked his ass with ease. Instead of killing him…Vil forces Epel to be his informant…but eventually takes him in and teaches him magic. 

Azul - runs the Monstro Lounge, an underground bar for supernaturals. He knows everything and is the most morally bankrupt bastard out there. What is he? No one knows. But he has been around for A WHILE. He enjoys the fact that Vil is a “free slayer” and decides he might be worth keeping around for a while. Especially since he senses a much darker side to this slayer than he lets on. Literally he will throw Vil under the bus or give him the keys depending on what benefits him most at the moment.

Leona - a very mysterious and way too handsome vampire who seems to show up Tuxedo Mask style when Vil is in distress. At first…it was as if he were waiting for the slayer to die at the hands of his enemies….he wouldn’t help or do anything…he was like the grim reaper in a sense. It confused Vil at first but it then started to piss him off and it seemed out of spite the slayer would survive just to tell Leona off for being a fucking creep. And Leona would smile and vanish into the night.  (MUCH MORE UNDER THE CUT)

Leona made his presence more known as time went on. Vil absolutely did not trust him when he came with hints and advice but Rook was infatuated with him and Epel thought he was the COOLEST vampire in the world and wanted to be just like him. Vil hated to admit how attracted to Leona he was…but accepted his help begrudgingly. With time, Vil felt a kinship with Leona…especially when Vil had allowed himself to be more ruthless and indulge in the thrill of the kill. Embracing the power that came with being a slayer…how he was made to hunt the very creatures that stalked the night. 

Leona never judged him or told him he was being cruel…in fact Leona admitted he had a pretty dark past and was out here killing people and indulging in his vampiric instincts without regard for anyone…Vil still accepted him…and admits that he wishes sometimes he could just fully indulge in his desires…show the world his power and not have to hide in fear of people judging him for a path he didn’t choose. 

….and then they INDULGE IN EACH OTHER. <3

Everything is cool….UNTIL one of the most heinous and ruthless vampires in history is suddenly back after being assumed dead for like 100 years or something. 

Jamil Viper

The vampire who single handedly slaughtered the entire Al-Asim bloodline…who was known for hunting slayers for their power…who established an entire coven based on the ideals of freedom and pursuit of power. (This is something everyone involved with the supernatural world knows as common knowledge.)

Who brought him back? Azul, probably. He is the worst version of himself in this and I am LIVING for that.

Jamil’s return (oh god, not me referencing Jafar’s Return) is very lowkey. Basically Vil is lured through an abandoned prison where a vampire's nest was tipped off to be and is face to face with Jamil. Jamil looking absolutely beautiful and dramatic in some very sexy silks and gold accessories because he is PEAK DRAMATIC here. He is confident and ready to start taking everything that belongs to him back.

But…Vil is also confident and not about to let some random vampire kill him even IF he’s hot and has amazing hair. They fight and they’re evenly matched which pissed Jamil off but after being literally a dehydrated corpse for a century he isn't at full power…

Then Leona shows up, uncharacteristically shocked at the scene and Jamil flees instantly at the sight of Leona. Leona is in a panic asking Vil if he’s okay, but Vil simply states it was a random vampire after his blood…and asks if Leona knows him.

Leona admits that is THE Jamil Viper. Who he thought was dead…who was his lover…long ago. 

For the first time in a long time, Vil is shaken…not realizing how close to death he could have been…how he had gone toe to toe with the actual slayer killer. He doesn’t see this as a victory or a triumph of his skill even if he had the upper hand on the vampire. Jamil killed many slayers…which means he knew how to kill them…which meant with just a little more time…Jamil would have figured out how to kill him. And not just that…the only thing that might keep Vil alive is his connection to Leona. 

Leona and Vil go to Azul about this and Azul claims to have known about Jamil’s awakening…and he is aware of Leona and Jamil’s past in EXCRUCIATING detail. Leona quickly tells the story himself to save the dramatics. 

Leona was turned as a vampire when some vampires invaded the royal home with the help of a traitor. Fortunately their target, The current Slayer: Falena, was not there…but unfortunately Leona was. 

Falena was too guilt ridden to mercifully kill his now undead brother…and so he kept him hidden from the world…to keep him safe…but Leona felt like he was in prison…hidden away by shame and seen as something horrifying and grotesque to everyone around him. So Leona ran away. 

Leona , still very much a new vampire, runs into trouble from other vampires but he eventually runs into the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on. A charming man who moved like a snake and had sharp fangs like one too…another vampire. The man introduces himself as Jamil Viper…and asks if Leona would like to go with him to travel the world. Leona hesitates at first asking what he wants…and Jamil simply replies he wants to kiss those perfect pecs of his. 

They are VERY physical at first…both of them incredibly touch starved and never really having indulged in physical pleasures…they don’t talk about themselves or their pasts…they go out and hunt together…learning together…teaching each other…figuring out what vampires should do and what they should NOT do. It is easy and simple for them…they cherish simply existing and living…no morals, no rules, just instinct and indulgence. 

Time goes on and they slowly open to one another. Jamil tells his story…of how he was a slave to the Al-Asims in his human life. How they molded him to be their eldest heir’s slave. How he resented his master and wished him death. How he tried to kill his master to gain his freedom. How he failed to do so…and how his master forgave him with a smile. How complicated his emotions had become…and how he could never get a chance to sort those emotions out. How his master died to save his life…how his master would never know that Jamil had already been dead and reborn as a vampire. How Jamil came home to a dead family…and how he found out his master’s death was orchestrated by his own blood….

…how Jamil Viper saw fit to eradicate an entire bloodline…and did so with a smile on his face as he danced in their bloodshed. 

Jamil had become the embodiment of freedom among vampires…and his followers were loyal to him because of it. Most of them have been bound in chains by the Al-Asims themselves and now free. Leona wanted to have Jamil forever. For he felt free and happy…he was loved…and he loved Jamil…and Jamil loved Leona and wanted him by his side. They sought power together…hunting slayers…with Leona’s knowledge of slayers. They had power…and that brought freedom. 

But one day…Leona was taken. Taken by his royal family…by the new King Cheka, his nephew. Leona was basically “rehabilitied”. Forced into confinement while being “retrained” from hunting for sport and drinking from humans. Leona fights but is basically drugged up and confined most of the time. He admits he hardly remembers anything from that time. But knows that Cheka is the one who tells him Jamil Viper is dead. Something in Leona breaks then…and he decides to play along with his nephew and act like he is “nice and not evil”...Leona doesn’t continue further than that about his “rehab” but admits he feels guilt for just assuming Jamil was dead…and that Jamil probably thinks he abandoned him. 

Azul picks up the story from there. Claiming he has accounts from witnesses and testimony from Jamil himself. Jamil had seen his own demise coming…and purposely tipped the royal family off himself and orchestrated Leona’s capture by them. To keep Leona out of harms way and save his life…because he knows his family would not kill him…and his enemies wouldn’t try to cross the royal family…

Azul knows this because he is the one that “killed” Jamil Viper. He was commissioned to kill Jamil at a price he couldn’t refuse…but the commissioner was an annoying prick…so Azul decided he was just going to “hide” Jamil until the commissioner dies. Plus Azul wanted Jamil to be in his debt and this was the BEST way to do that.

Azul (Floyd and Jade, let's not lie here) had successfully kidnapped Jamil and encased him in a beautifully indestructible diamond encrusted and silver lined coffin that he could never escape…and then basically threw him into the bottom of the ocean. 

Did Azul tell Jamil he was going to fish him out one day? – No. 

Had Azul hoped when he did, Jamil would be grateful and fall to his feet in thanks and serve him forever? – Yes! 

Did Jamil immediately try to drain Azul dry in starving vampiric rage while Jade and Floyd watched and laughed their asses off? – Yes, it was HILARIOUS. 

As soon as Jamil got his strength back, he somehow escaped. (It was Jade who let him out, probably)  Azul claims Jamil owes him for saving him from his coffin. Vil retorts that Azul is the one who put him there AND Jamil didn’t ask to be saved. Azul claims it doesn’t matter anyway because now Vil and Leona can catch Jamil and bring him back! 

Leona, EXTREMELY pissed that Azul knew this the WHOLE TIME, asks why the fuck they would give Jamil to Azul…and Azul says because if he is left free he is going to kill Vil. Jamil wants power quicker than EVER and so Vil would be the easiest way to get that.  Leona states that Azul can fuck off because Jamil isn’t going to kill Vil and they’re not going to hand him over to Azul. Azul simply smirks and asks what he plans to do? Kill Jamil himself? Leona doesn’t answer…and Vil doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Eventually, Vil tracks down Jamil himself where Leona can’t find either of them. He knows how much Jamil means to Leona…but he also knows he can’t let Jamil live if his goal is to kill him…even if it means Leona hates him. If Jamil kills him…then at least he won’t stand in the way of who Leona always wanted to be. 

Jamil meets Vil in a much more humble spot. In an abandoned library…and Jamil isn’t adorned in silks and gold…he’s in a hoodie and sweats…looking small and tired…as if the confidence in him was gone. He smirks to Vil, claiming that he is the type that he always imagined Leona would want. Someone beautiful, tall and graceful. Vil, a lot less intimidated, smiles back and says that Jamil isn’t that far off…except now. Jamil claims he has to blend in with the modern people…a lot of vampires don’t believe he is who he says he is…so he has nowhere to go…plus he likes comfy clothes…

Vil asks Jamil how many slayers he has killed. Jamil admits he lost track…but he doesn’t forget the feeling of feeding from a slayer. The intense power as he drinks their very lives…and their power becomes his. Vil asks if Leona drank with him…and Jamil says yes…they would share the power…take turns…and if a slayer was that good they kept them alive just a bit longer to indulge in them.

Vil doesn’t feel as disgusted as he thought he would from hearing that…he then admits to Jamil how killing a vampire makes him feel power. To straddle a vampire and looking down at their fearful faces…purposely lowering the stake and taking in that fear of ultimate demise before jabbing their heart…ending their existence entirely…it was a thrill that set Vil’s soul on fire. It made him feel so alive…so he…gets why Jamil wants to kill him so badly. 

Jamil didn’t expect Vil to understand at all…and he surely didn’t expect to kinda be turned on by Vil’s thirst for slaying. He had thought Vil more controlled and elegant…but he was as thirsty for power and the thrill of the kill as he and Leona…and Jamil suddenly understood why Leona is with the slayer. 

Vil brings Jamil back with him because he doesn’t have a place to stay and Leona is like WHAT IN THE FUUUUUUUCK. Vil leaves Jamil and Leona to talk in private. It’s hella awkward. Leona starts by telling him that he aint shit for sending him away. Jamil doesn’t even argue and says he knows…but he isn’t sorry that he did it….because Leona is alive. Leona darkly says he actually felt truly dead for the first time in his afterlife while being held up in that castle again. Jamil feels a pang of guilt but simply states there would have been no room for Leona in that coffin anyway. 

Leona feels a sense of dread but asks how was it like in there for so long? Trapped in total darkness…alone…quiet… Jamil shrugs and says it felt like being dead…but always thirsty…always in pain…replaying memories that were distorted…coming up with fake memories….trying to hold onto the good memories and praying for the horrible ones to stop…it’s how he imagined hell to be…and honestly he thought he was in hell…Jamil seems to drift away from his own mind as he speaks…as if falling back into that dark and lonely place…Leona sees it and he quickly pulls Jamil in his arms and holds him tightly. Jamil instinctively grabs onto Leona and cries his heart out. 

Leona had planned to kill Jamil the moment Vil left them alone. 

Vil could have been killed because Leona was reluctant to talk to Jamil himself…so in Vil fashion he did the hard work himself. Leona would never have forgiven himself…he knew Jamil like the back of his hand. He will kill Vil. But seeing Jamil…and holding him as he cried so painfully in his arms…his usual glamor and confidence gone…it reminded him of himself when he was ‘rehabilitated’. 

Jamil pushes Leona away and grabs the stake off the table that he had noticed the moment he got into the house. Leona stills for a moment before Jamil hands him the stake. He tells Leona if he’s gonna do it, make it quick. Just don’t take him back to Azul…he’d rather be dust than locked back in that coffin for not taking his stupid deal. Leona takes the stake and stares at it. He places the tip at Jamil’s heart. Jamil closes his eyes, accepting his fate…knowing it will be someone who was once gentle with him that ends his life.

Leona drops the stake and instead pulls Jamil by the face as he takes him in a longing kiss. Jamil is CONFUSED as Leona is kissing him madly…like trying to give him CPR as he kisses him down into the couch and Jamil is like WHAT THE FUCK DONT YOU WANNA KILL ME? And Leona is like NO IM TRYING TO PUT SOME FUCKING LIFE IN YOUR SUICIDAL ASS!!!

And they fuck on the couch. 

Vil comes back home and finds them both passed out on the couch naked. He flushes at the sight…but is curious how he isn’t upset about it at all…they both just looked so at peace…fitting each other. Maybe it’s because Vil knows they were in love but never truly broke up? Or maybe it’s how he curiously wouldn’t mind being with them? Possibly…having them both bite gently into his neck on either side…

Vil quickly finds a blanket and covers them up before hurrying back to the bedroom. 

So Jamil joins their team even though he WARNS EVERYONE HE IS GOING TO KILL THE SLAYER AND THEY SHOULD NOT TRUST HIM. And everyone is like okay Jamil. Jamil is primarily kept in check because Azul is literally waiting for him to slip up…and Jamil is like nooooooooooooooooooope.

Jamil finds his thirst for slayer power is quenched by watching the slayer wreck face and even indulging in wrecking face himself.  Jamil brings an intense power of thrall with him so he is super fucking useful on getting information and slipping into any place he wants. Eventually people actually start to believe that THE Jamil Viper is BACK?

Vil wasn’t sure what he intended by bringing Jamil home with him…but he had hoped for maybe another kindred spirit…and he was finding that in Jamil. They agreed with each other a lot…disagreed with Leona a lot...and found common ground at home and in the dark. Vil had realized that maybe he wanted more from the vampire…he was attracted to his power…but also was endeared by the way he hid shyly in his hoodie when Vil complimented him…or how he smiles brightly when finding a new song he likes on youtube…or even how he’d curl up tight in a ball on the bed when he fell asleep…

One night, Vil slid behind Jamil and spooned him. Jamil startles and looks back to Vil…but Vil presses forward and kisses him softly on the lisp…and Jamil melts into the kiss. Jamil kissing back with such passion and sweetness that Vil couldn’t resist turning him around to kiss him deeper. And it feels absolutely right. 

And not too long after…Leona, Vil and Jamil find themselves in bed…naked and tangled up together…kisses being shared as hands touch and caress on skin…mouths kissing and moan…it’s hot…it’s passionate...and its so damn indulgent.

Vil allows himself to fall into the dark…the taboo of a slayer giving himself to vampires so intimately. But Vil was not any better than a vampire was he? Killing vampires was his calling…it gave him power and strength…Killing humans was what kept vampires alive and powerful…the passion grows and Vil is in between two vampires…naked…weak from the pleasure that makes his body tremble as he constantly moans in his sweet voice. One mouth breathing on the left side of his neck…the other mouth licking at the right side of his neck. He feels fangs poking and grazing teasingly at his tender neck. Both sets of fangs sink into him gently…and Vil feels a euphoria he has never felt in his entire life. 

[milykins]

Omg if you’re doing requests, I need more poly Bayverse turtles because that Poly-Dads one is so good and it’s so hard to find poly turtles that’s not t-cest. So maybe a poly fic where reader and the boys are figuring things out?

I was so excited to get this request! I've been toying with the idea of writing a poly one-shot for a while now. For this one I decided to focus on Raph and Mikey, the Blood Orange duo since they're my favourite. I hope this is what you had in mind with them figuring things out.

Readers please keep in mind these are aged up characters, adult mutant turtles and reader.

TW: Contains a poly relationship between two of the turtles and reader. If that is not your thing, this is your last chance to move on from this.

Thank you to @adebauchedsloth for beta reading and @iridescentflamingo for the gif!

Also thank you @avery73 for your help with the ideas for this.

Full story under the cut.

You thought you could do this. You thought you could make things work with the brooding turtle in red and his fun-loving, endlessly cheerful younger brother. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you loved them both. Wasn't that enough?

Yet here you were, watching them punch the shit out of each other in a fit of jealousy and rage, all over you. It wasn't as if you hadn't reassured them that you loved them. You had. Repeatedly.

You loved them both and felt you had the best of both worlds. Raph, though quiet and ill-tempered by nature, had a secret side that was so sweet and sensitive. He was fiercely committed to making you happy, no matter what it took. Then, there was Mikey, the lovable goofball, always finding ways to make you smile and laugh even when you were at your lowest.

They were devastatingly handsome. Raph had that rugged look—he could wear a plaid shirt and chop wood, and you'd be a puddle on the floor. Mikey, on the other hand, was so adorable with his baby-blue eyes and winning smile. He was quick to brag about how good he looked all the time, even claiming he was the better-looking of the two. But to you, he was quietly handsome in those moments when he didn't even realize it.

It was in moments when he looked out at the city lights, or when his head was tilted up to catch the gently falling snowflakes or raindrops on his face, laughing hilariously at something funny on TV or solidly concentrating on a video game. You treasured moments like that, and with Raph as well. He’d been the hardest to convince of your feelings for him, and even more difficult to accept that you found him attractive.

Both were undeniably sexy while doing their martial arts training or working out—Raph wasn't the only one who hit the gym. Mikey did too, and could hold his own in a sparring match, often winning them.

Although Raph was the stronger of the two, Mikey was quicker, lighter on his feet, and able to dictate his moves more quickly. Most of the time, he would spar with a smile on his face and a confident glint in his eye.

Now, however, that air about him was gone. He was fighting back with everything he had. Unlike Raph, who exploded easily, his anger was darker, a cold kind of fury that scared you a little. Raph's anger was like a wildfire, burning hotter with every passing second, difficult to extinguish.

How did you end up here? Oh, right. This was all your fault. You'd only asked a question. Something you thought would be a simple request. You figured it would ruffle some feathers figuratively, of course, but you didn't expect a reaction quite like this.

-----

"Now that we're together... I thought... maybe we could... Take that next step, all together." As they stared at you in shock, you began babbling, speaking faster as you attempted to explain yourself. "N-not that you'd be doing anything with each other! But both with me? You know what I mean... I want my first time together to be with both of you."

"Yes!"

"No."

Your heart clenched as. It seemed that Raph wasn't intointo this idea at all, and it was difficulthard not to feel thisinterpret his refusal as some kind of rejection. 

"You... don't want to? I guess... we could..."

"Not with him." Raph had crossed his arms, glancing at his brother with disdain, not noticing the look of disappointment you now had.

Mikey, had not only noticed but also looked offended,  still had it in him to try to salvage this. "Why not, Raph? You wanna make her happy, don't ya?" 

"I do, just not with your dumb ass ruining things for our first time."

Stubborn as always, Mikey did catch a hint of insecurity in his response. It was difficult for him not to take advantage of that. "Sounds like you're scared, Raphie-boy." Mikey jeered with a smirk.

Raph tensed, his shoulders tightening as he clapped back at his little brother. "Fuck you, Mikey, I ain't, now shut the fuck up." The truth was, Mikey had hit right at the center of his insecurities. Raph interpreted your question as a sign that you didn't want to be alone with just him. 

Still undeterred, Mikey couldn't stop himself from antagonizing his brother further. "Then why? OUR girlfriend just asked us to be with her, together! Whatsa matter?" Mikey felt it was his brother trying to make sure HE got to be with you first, because of course, him being the little brother had to wait.

"Nothin' now leave it the fuck alone!"

It didn't take much to get his hackles raised, and Mikey must have known and not cared, as his next comment enraged him. "Listen, bro, we both know what this is about. I don't care if I see your dick, get over yourself." He was partly teasing him but also defending you, always finding ways to protect you, even at the risk of his own safety.

That was how the fight began, with Raph throwing the first punch and Mikey sidestepping him and punching him in the face.

Which led you to now.

You had to stop this. You tried calling out to them, but both were too caught up in their fight to acknowledge you. Bruises were forming, they were getting winded, and still, they refused to give up. At this rate, they would both collapse in their futile attempt to overpower each other.

You found yourself getting angry as well. These idiots! How dare they fight like this over you! You were going to give it one last attempt. It may be unconventional, but you were determined to get them to stop fighting!

Why couldn't they realize how much they meant to you!? Well, fine, drastic times call for drastic measures.

Taking a deep breath, you positioned yourself directly in their line of sight and lifted your shirt, intentionally exposing your bare chest.

It was almost comical how quickly they both paused to stare at you. Instead of feeling flattered, it only served to intensify your anger, causing you to snap.

"You, idiots! Guess what? Now neither of you gets to have me!" Shoving your shirt down, you felt yourself trembling as you turned on your heel and left the room. They were stunned, Raph still mid-punch as they watched you go.

You blinked away tears, slipping into your shoes and grabbing your purse. You were heading home, unable to stay another minute. Luckily, that wouldn’t be too hard. Donnie had made accessible exits so you wouldn't have to try lifting heavy manhole covers to get back to the surface.

Heading to the nearest one, you breathed shakily, wiping away furious tears as you climbed, one rung after another. The cover popped open with spring-loaded ease, and you finally allowed yourself to break.

The air was refreshingly cool, with a hint of humidity from the warmth of the day. As soon as you had a moment to gather yourself, the tears began flowing in a torrent that would not be stopped. You sobbed quietly as you made your way home. Your heart was filled with doubt. Perhaps this couldn’t work; perhaps giving each of them half of your heart wasn’t enough.

----

Meanwhile, Mikey and Raph were staring at the spot where you had just been, still shocked that you flashed them, put them in their place, and left. The silence was thick as Raph sagged slightly, whispering, “Shit…”

Mikey, who usually would’ve shrugged the entire thing off, had a clear look of shame. He knew he’d acted like a shit to his brother. The truth was, he’d been jealous of him. This entire arrangement was like nothing they’d experienced before. It was new, scary, and they were all trying to figure out how things would work between the three of them. 

He was terrified, thinking they wouldn’t, that somehow they’d lose you if they weren’t careful. They needed to make things right, and he had to start by apologizing to his brother. 

“Sorry, Raph…”

“No, I’m Sorry.”

Both had apologized in unison. Both were ashamed of their actions, having pushed the one they loved away with their own fears and insecurities. Mikey scrubbed a hand over his face with a deep sigh while Raph brushed himself off and checked his phone for messages.

There were none. His chest tightened as he thought about how upset you looked. He glanced at his brother, who responded with a knowing look of his own. They needed to make things right, but it was going to take more than just a simple ‘I’m sorry’.

Before they could do anything however, Raph spoke first. He needed to explain himself. “It’s not… you, Mikey, bein’ with us. I… don’t give a shit if you see me doin’ stuff with her, it’s just that I thought, the only reason she wanted to be with me, is cuz you were there too. Cuz, you’re better than me at this relationship crap.” This wasn’t easy for him at all; his fists were still clenched, and his whole body was tense.

Mikey looked a little stunned. So much so, he didn’t know what to say at first. “Dude… bro, I’m just as clueless as you, I just hide it better, I think. I’m just trying to do what feels natural with her, but honestly, I felt intimidated by you. You’re the cooler, older brother, of course she’d love you. I’m just… the dumb idiot.”

Blinking, Raph shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Looks like we’re both idiots then.”

Yeah," Mikey agreed with a chuckle before his eyes widened. “Shit, we gotta go fix this, we gotta find her!” He started toward the exit, looking back to see Raph still frozen with indecision. “Bro, let’s go! She asked for both of us!”

With a determined nod, Raph finally sprang into action. “Right, let’s go. She needs us.”

-----

You’d reached your apartment at this point, but the tears had stopped. Instead, shame crept in as you began second-guessing your actions. You could’ve thrown a bucket of water at both of them, but instead you—you were so stupid! Now they probably weren’t coming at all.

You breathed shakily as you sank into the couch. Your eyes watered again as you thought about how much you loved those idiots. That was why you’d asked to be with them both. Whoever didn’t get chosen to go first would feel hurt, right? Now, you weren’t so sure; maybe you should’ve asked Raph to be first… but then Mikey…

You groaned, reaching for a tissue to wipe your eyes. You didn’t hear the back door opening as you blew your nose noisily. Instead, you closed your eyes and rested your head on the back of the couch.

Behind your eyelids, the room darkened, and you sensed two very familiar presences approaching from behind. You slowly opened your eyes to see two very sorry-looking turtlemen, quietly waiting for you to notice them. 

“Y-you came…” your voice still quivered, and both of them looked even more remorseful as they moved to go around the couch, one sitting on each side of you. 

“Course, babe, we needed to apologize, we—”

“Acted like a couple of idiots.” Raph finished, taking your head and thumbing away some of your tears. “We’re sorry…”

Mikey took your other hand. Speaking softly, he squeezed it gently. “We’re so sorry, babe. The reason we fought, is cuz we…”

“We were jealous of each other.” It was a simple explanation, one that made perfect sense. Still, you found it a bit amusing. Both jealous of each other and unsure, all over you. Did they not realize how unsure you were?

“You really are a couple of idiots.” You gave them a watery smile. “But I probably didn’t explain myself that well the first time I asked, so we can all be idiots together.” You took a breath, looking between the two of them. “You have nothing to be jealous about, that’s why I asked for both of you… I didn’t want to pick one of you over the other. I was trying to… keep things fair.”

The two slipped their arms behind your back.

“Baby, you don’t gotta worry so much about keeping things fair. Raph and I are adults too, and it’s not all on you to make sure we’re getting enough of you.”

“Mikey’s right. This ain’t just about me and you, or you and him. It’s you, and us, and when we got into this thing, we promised you we’d make it work cuz… cuz we love you.”

“We love you so much, babe.” Mikey agreed with a smile, making you feel like crying all over again.

“I love you too…” You sank into their embrace, feeling safe and relieved that you had talked things out and gained some clarity. This is why communication was so important in relationships. Even in poly ones, especially those ones.

Raph wrapped his other arm around you, and Mikey did the same, both holding you in their embrace as if you were the most precious gift to them.

Raph pressed his snout into your hair, breathing you in. “Listen, if the offer still stands… we’d be honoured to be with you. All we wanna do is make you happy.”

“And make you feel good!” Mikey added, kissing your forehead.

“I’d love that.” You smiled and moved to kiss both of them, drawing out their smiles and, in Mikey’s case, a goofy look of bliss.

“Well, no rush on that. Whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ll be here, Babycakes.” Mikey’s promise warmed your heart, and Raph’s quiet comfort and reassurance strengthened your resolve. You were relieved you had made the right choice after all.

You chose them, and they chose you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Relationships were complicated, poly ones even more so. Still, you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was the three of you were against the world, and no one fought harder than these two. No matter what the future held, you would face it together. Together with your love.

End.

Taglist:

@thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @jenuinelycurious

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

[ohwhatagloomyshow]

the waste land

gemma scout, 2k, 2nd person present.

Gemma, the Great War, and the Scout-Hale house. A prologue.

Hot off the presses, folks, a first draft of the acute-psychosis-&-chronically-ill Gemma fic! Feedback is more than appreciated. My eternal thanks to historian W. Scott Poole for his book The Waste Land: The Great War and The Origins of Modern Horror for reasons that will become apparent VERY quickly, and Paul Rousseau, whose memoir Friendly Fire: A Fractured Memoir, introduced me to the term bone headache, which has haunted me since I read it.

You have been awake for 14 hours.

You thought it would be easy to sleep. Everyone had expected that you would be exhausted, Mark’s Dead Wife risen miraculously from the grave (you wonder now, did you get a Dead Wife Montage? Did he remember you laughing under your clean white sheets, right before he lost you?). But sleep doesn’t come easy - doesn’t come at all. Feels like wolves at the door.

The night of your rescue, the night before you flee (because you have to flee, you might have to flee for the rest of your life, so you may as well get used to it now), Devon crawls under the covers with you, becomes your big spoon. You don’t have the energy to push her away, even though every nerve ending in your legs ignites. You remind yourself that you used to fall asleep like this with Mark almost every night for five years. This used to be your normal. It feels totally alien.

Devon murmurs, “Do you want to watch that Keira Knightly Anna Karenina movie again?”

You can’t remember the last time you watched it together. You can’t remember if it is a comfort-comfort movie or a hate-comfort movie. All you know is you’re so fucking tired of Tolstoy, and if you’re going to watch a movie, it needs to be a scary one.

“Halloween wouldn’t be what it is today without the Great War.” Mark’s favorite opener for HIST 307: The Great War and the Birth of Modern Horror. He had been so proud when they had accepted his proposal for the course, approved his syllabus. That was at the very beginning of the IVF trials, and it had been something for him to focus on when attempt after attempt failed. You think of his expression then, and you think of his expression bathed in red light and someone else’s blood.

“I want to go home,” you reply instead, and Devon’s sharp intake of breath is all the information you need.

“I know, honey, but I don’t think we can. You heard what Harmony said.”

You did; you don’t care.

You resolve to go anyway.

–

Waiting for Devon to get up and check on Eleanor almost kills you, but you endure.

(Your parents made you visit the school counselor when they got divorced. She called you resilient and it’s been bouncing around your head since you were ten years old).

You don’t know where you’re going in this large, unfamiliar house but you resolve to just keep turning right - and it leads you to the kitchen, where Ricken’s and Devon’s keys rest in a wooden bowl. You grab a ring and find your way outside easily enough.

“Where are you going, honey?” Devon’s voice, gentle, calling out from the door that leads directly into the garage. You’re climbing into their giant-ass car when the sound stops you cold. “Do you remember when we told you Mark sold your house? He moved into Lumon housing two years ago.”

Oh. That vaguely rings a bell. In the car, when your ears were still ringing, your eyes were still tracing that empty, unknowing expression on Mark’s face. You step out of the car.

Devon holds her hand out for the keys, and you drop them into her waiting palm. She tilts her head to the left, to the car. “Get in.”

You want to kiss her on the mouth; you kiss her cheek instead.

–

The backroads of Kier are different, somehow, than the backroads of Ganz. There are more streetlights; the trees are thinner. You can hardly see the stars. Devon lets you roll down your window; she just cranks up the heat.

Devon doesn’t speak for the entire fifteen minute drive, and under any other circumstance you’d tease her for it. It isn’t any other circumstance.

You park at the entrance to the saddest little planned development you’ve ever seen, unusually dark and empty. Devon says his duplex is just a few blocks in, and you nod. If you’re going on a suicide mission, you may as well be a little smart about it.

The two of you begin creeping down the sidewalk until it becomes clear that no one is around to catch you - this is truly an empty complex. At this moment it’s maybe the funniest thing in the world. The laughter is foreign in your ears and in your throat; Devon’s is much more familiar when she joins you. It’s hard to walk after a time, because now that you’ve started you cannot stop. You clutch your sister-in-law’s arm and she clutches yours and it’s just the two of you, cackling like hyenas under the stars. When you look up, you find the Little Dipper immediately, and suddenly you can catch your breath - you gasp, rip your arm from Devon’s to point straight up. When she sees it, she hugs you a little tighter.

The stars are brighter than they’ve ever been, even in your childhood.

Devon’s quick with the spare key Mark gave her when he moved in; it unlocks easily, so different from the locks you never found the time to replace in Ganz. You have to brace yourself before stepping over the threshold. You have to repeat “I am Gemma Scout” three times in your mind before you finally have the courage to enter.

You’re still you, and you heave out a sigh.

The house is dark and empty; the only light comes from Mark’s fish tank, holding two male bettas. One red and one blue.

“Ricken got those for him,” Devon says, coming to your side as you watch the fish swim. “He didn’t realize you couldn’t have two males in the same tank. He wanted them to represent their friendship.” The last word shakes as it leaves her mouth in a laugh, and you giggle along.

“We should bring them with us,” you cough out. “It’s not their fault their owner isn’t coming back.” You turn away from the thought before it can consume you.

Devon heads to Mark’s kitchen to look for take-out containers to take the fish home in while you take in Mark’s couch, Mark’s TV, Mark’s…that’s it. Jesus.

He’s moved on. He has a daughter now. You should’ve hit him a second time.

“All of your stuff is in the basement. We weren’t there when he packed most of it, so I have no idea if it’s organized at all.” Devon holds up two of Mark’s largest containers, and you shrug to agree they should be decent enough. She gestures around the refrigerator, and you approach the basement door with some reverence.

This, really, is why you wanted to come here. He may have gotten rid of your house, gotten rid of any furniture he couldn’t fit in your car. But even though it’s the very worst part of moving, you’d bet your life that he kept his books.

Another deep breath and then you’re down, startled as the temperature drops a few more degrees. The first box you spot is labeled “GEMMA’S CRAFTS” and it hurts to see your name in his handwriting.

You try not to look too long in every box you find. You’re relieved to see he kept some of your clothes and you pull that box out. You nearly rip off your turtleneck and jeans for a ratty pair of Ganz sweatpants and a red sweater he bought you that very last Christmas. This is starting to feel like your body again.

When you can barely pull a box out to examine it, you know you’ve struck gold.

It seems to take all the strength in your thighs but you manage to pull it out from under the shelf. You rub your sore left wrist with your right hand before opening it, holding your breath.

It’s right on top.

This is - you squeeze your eyes shut, count one, two, three, four - the fifth copy of All Quiet on the Western Front Mark has gone through since your marriage - one for every year, but the marriage is unrelated. Every year he teaches it, and every year there’s a student barely making ends meet who never gets to the library before all of the available copies have been checked out. So he gives it away - once he gave it away twice, because he added it to one of his spring syllabi at the last second - and always replaces it. He reads it along with his students and claims he never gets tired of it, but you know he’s not telling the full truth. You love him for that.

It looks brand new, like it hasn’t been cracked open yet - and you remember, of course, you left in March and he had just replaced his previous copy in February. He hadn’t had a chance to break it in before you were gone.

Your wrist still hurts so you rotate it carefully, and when Devon calls your name down the stairs a scream tears its way out of your throat.

“I’m sorry!” you cry up to her hurriedly, standing up so quickly that your lower back twinges. You shouldn’t have crouched that long. “You just startled me!” You have the book, you have some clothes. You make your way up the stairs - it’s so much harder going up than down.

Devon isn’t in Mark’s kitchen when you pass through the basement doorway. She was here, though - she was here with Mark’s take-out containers. She was here, she drove you here, and you don’t know how to get back on your own, and fuck now you’re stuck here in this house you don’t know in a town you don’t kn-.

“You doing okay, sweetie?” Devon emerges from a door you hadn’t seen - a closet. She’s got two of Mark’s coats in her arms. “I wasn’t sure if he kept your other jackets; thought you might want his in the meantime.” She has a heavy coat in one arm, a windbreaker in the other.

The light haloing around your sister-in-law’s head is fuzzy.

“That sounds good,” you nod, swallowing down your fear and embarrassment of your own fear.

“What did you find?” You hold the box out to her, and she hums.

“Thank God the Scouts are natural-born hoarders, right?” she grins, and you know your answering smile is weak, but it’s all you have for the moment.

The car ride home is uneventful.

–

You have now been awake for twenty-two hours.

You thought having the book would help you sleep but it doesn’t. It might actually be making things worse.

This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it.

You can hear this in Mark’s voice, the times he would read it aloud to you, always beginning at the beginning. When you test the words out they don’t feel quite right on your tongue.

When you finally tire of pacing around the room, Mark’s book in your hand, you place it gently on your pillow and slip out the door on tiptoe. You’re not supposed to leave but they left the door unlocked, so it’s really their fault if you get out.

You turn right and left until you find yourself in an office - Ricken’s office, right, with that hideous typewriter. You come back to your body in pieces as you examine the titles in his bookshelf against the wall. The sudden familiarity of the author's names and book titles passes over you like a cool mist on a hot day - King, Picoult, Sanderson. Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. Casino Royale. Tuesdays with Morrie. Your left wrist hurts and there’s the shadow of an ache in your jaw. It’s 2014 or it’s 2016 or maybe the beginning of 2018 and you’re meeting Devon, you’re meeting Ricken, you’re having Sunday dinner and the light is green through the leaves of your plants and Mark’s hand is in yours under the table and you’re laughing with your brother-in-law and the top of your crown hurts, it hurts like a bone headache, it hurts, and you can’t remember how you got here.

[ranticore]

another one. sorry. really rotating ironwall in my head rn though i may have some siren questions later. adding on to my earlier question about inter-clade relationships/friendships, how would romantic or sexual or platonic interest between a centaur/harpy and a human be viewed? would it be seen as impure/immoral given the lack of ability to procreate and the (human side) Whole Thing with beast junk and suchlike? would it be seen as okay or even aspirational from a centaur puritan perspective because human-aspect parts are Good and Not Sinful so being with someone who's entirely human is like being with someone Less Sinful than yourself? is it just very unlikely because of the differences in courtship and attractiveness standards and the lower population of humans in ironwall? and of course is there an underground fetish scene

i had to retire to my grotto and ponder this one for a couple of days because genuinely i didn't even consider this type of relationship. which is hilarious because that's the only type of relationship i've written in ironwall settings (human x beastman - in fact the first novel was a full romance!). those, however, were always explicitly a bit outside society - stuck in the mountains or in some distant safehouse. away from prying eyes. in my mind it took on a kind of forbidden relationship aura which tracks with ironwall culture's focus on procreative sex as a framework for All Of Life but i think there's more to it than that

i think that on the human side of things - well people might think you have a weird fetish or you're kind of a freak but overall you'd have an easier time convincing humans that it's ok. bringing home your centaur girlfriend to meet your parents in london will be weird but once they get to know her and see she's Just Like Us, it'll probably be fine. it's obvious that they are people and not animals but i still think sex and discussion of it would be generally frowned upon similar to modern-day discussion of sodomy.

ironwall culture on the other hand can not tolerate these pairings. at all. not only is your human partner obviously a zoophile, but you are the one corrupting them. you are having ideas above your station when it's your job to suffer for what you are. shit like this is what cursed us all in the first place. and so on. there is zero acceptance of this across the board, which means that beastman/human pairs, when they do form (because they do, though it's rare simply because people raised in ironwall must move a mountain of cultural baggage and shame before even considering it), will often face total and complete ostracisation from their social circles. kiss your job goodbye, prepare to be evicted, you'd better run south or live in the mountains like hermits for the rest of your lives because you might be risking daily beatings on the street otherwise.

in terms of courtship processes and expectations in relationships - as someone raised in ironwall's culture, you'd probably have your own ideas about how courtship works and other types of flirting wouldn't even register as flirting unless it was very upfront. for someone raised outside ironwall or in human society obv this isn't the case.

[the-badger-mole]

I feel like alot of Azula's defenders focus too much on the fact that she's fourteen, completely disregarding the fact that children are capable of doing terrible things. She isn't some pretty princess who had no idea what she was doing, she was as much of a warlord as her father was, if not more. Zuko went through a whole journey of self-discovery before joining the Gaang and not once were his actions ever excused just because he had an abusive childhood, so it's crazy to me that Azula is given so much grace, especially if it's at the expense of bringing other characters down.

If people can't accept Azula for who she is, then maybe they don't like her after all, they just like a very specific idea of her. And I would love a redemption arc for her, too, but completely resetting her personality is not the way to do it.

I mean I get it, but I also don't. Azula is a great character- probably one of the better written ones in the show, in fact. A lot of redemption ideas I've seen for her rob her of her agency to the point that, yeah, she seems like a completely different character. A redemption for her is possible, in the right hands (I don't know whose, though), but it should absolutely not come at the expense of Zuko or the Gaang or Ba Sing Se.

[yunyin]

This was my original Loveybug sketch, but when I was finishing it, it just wasn't working for me! I like it as is, but I think the other one worked out for the best.

[eelclaw]

stupid fucking bastard. i am not coping with the leaks

[yeonbam]

People who wonder why Jack is so sensitive about Joke’s constant theft to get his way, even if it is for Jack, forget that one of the main prejudices against economically struggling classes of people is that those from privileged classes look at them with suspicion of crimes like theft literally chronically.

And Jack is the kind of person who is extra hard on himself because of the things he doesn’t have and he wants to escape this ‘othering’, this dehumanization of sorts, by using with what he has— his skills and knowledge, i.e. socially acceptable means.

This aversion to theft is seen even in Tattoo’s mother when she chastises her son for stealing from Boss despite how much they are literally suffering because of him. To escape prejudice against poor people being inherent thieves, they have to be ten times better than the average person, can't be immoral the same way the rich are, or else their suffering magically becomes "deserved" because they're not "good poor people."

YET, the complexity of this othering is so deep that even wanting to be self-reliant is frowned upon, as you see when Joke’s Dad criticizes Jack for being ‘poor but proud’ to want to give his grandmother the best medical treatment.

The reality is, the source of this ‘pride’/self-reliance, is literally… never having anyone who will help you out of your situations. Boss helping his grandmother with medicine was literally a scheme to use her to control Jack. And help for the hospital bills came at the price of his life and identity in the hands of Boss.

The first time Jack got help for his dream was from Joke and it ended in the shattering of his hopes due to betrayal and being almost involved in theft— of all things.

Jack is the amalgamation, of all these expectations from others and from himself. He is simultaneously inclined to be the perfect ‘victim’ and the saviour who, having lost his own childhood, wants to give all the things he never had to the children. It is going to be a chance for them and a second chance for himself. He formed this idea when he too was just a baby.

[itsmebaybe]

I do agree somewhat for the huntrix friendships. I would have loved more of them, and more time for them to develop. But I think they did a good job of making the audience interested in the girls characters. They felt complete as a supporting cast, though I agree not as deeply explored as I'd like. But I don't think that's a failure in this case just cause of the genre (family movie), run time (90min), and it being Rumi's story- her love story too. They're effective as support/conflict/motivation for Rumi because the girls are interesting, loving, and pretty funny. All of that is because of the strong (and somewhat blunt) characterization we get in the golden MV, sham doctor scene, group interactions, and the heart to heart before the idol awards. And still the writers were conveying so many details through a pretty tight window of storytelling.

And even with that time crunch I did find them really fun and a interesting to think about. For example Mira's family called her a problem child less because of how she acted but because their love was super conditional. She acted in response to that, but once she had a family who accepted her as she was, she chilled out. She suffers more from being stubborn and quite insecure about losing the family who accepts her (hehe kinda like rumi). Same with Zoey, no one ever called her "too much" besides herself. Probably suffering from her own upbringing. Split between two households, not feeling as though she belonged. She blames the instability on herself rather then others so she thinks she's too much/not enough. In actuality she's a people pleaser who will sacrifice her own wants for others aaaaaand whos insecure about losing the family that accepts her! (hehehehehehehe kinda like rumi)

They do feel like individuals but they had smaller roles in the larger picture due to the romance. Yet still I loved seeing the three of them together and they remain on my mind a weeks after watching for the first time. (I also watched a second time like. today but anyways maybe I am delusional. Who can say)

I also really liked the main romance. Which is saying something as usually I'm bored by enemies to lovers, it can fall into the trap of "where did that come from???" But in this one it was very clear why they were drawn to each other and why they wanted to trust each other- Jinu was curious about her being a demon, she was endeared by him saving her secret, he was given hope by her, she was given someone to confide in who was on her level. shes also just an empathetic person, knowing the plight of shame. I especially liked it cause it followed through with Jinu as he made an ultimate sacrifice for his redemption. (again something I usually have issue with, but because he sacrificed his loved ones for his life and comfort in his backstory it's cohesive that he sacrifices himself for a loved one)

Something else that someone in the comments brought up was how the conclusion with the demons was lackluster. We have Jinu and we have Rumi's dad and those are the only demons shown to not be bloodthursty murder machines. Even the dudes with Jinu had nothing besides their fake saja boy personas. Such a singular focus on Rumi and Jinu left the conclusion of the movie feeling wrong. "demons are not all bad, the shame you feel for being one just lets evil demon lord control you ^u^ anyways lets kill every demon with knives and hammers cause they're evil and should be dead"--- excuse me?? That felt super rushed unfortunately when I really loved the lead up.

And last note, one of the things I would actually have begged the creators to keep/add in would be like. One more scene with Celine and Rumi. Just something to explore more of how Celine sees Rumi and how much she cant let go of Rumis mother. I really loved their scene in the final act and thats why I need more of that grief. Celine only had like one major scene and her writing, the voice acting, everything made me hope and prey we'd get a second movie featuring her more because OH MY GOD there's so much they just left there! It would've been so enjoyable to see.

I guess what I'm trying to say is i think it was a good movie and anything that's wrong with it was more of an issue with how long it was rather then untactful writing. except for the killing all demons with knives and swords thing. that was a little crazy as a conclusion. but i forgive because they killed the male lead and the girls hugged while surrounded by rainbows

KPOP DEMONHUNTERS SUCKS

OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY WHO WROTE THIS? I’M NOT SAYING I DIDN’T ENJOY IT, BECAUSE I DID, BUT IT’S LIKE THEY THREW ALL THE TRENDS INTO A BLENDER AND HIT PUREE. hahaa jk. im rage baitinggg. NO IM NOT !!! its a really good movie i genuinely did like it BUT WHAT STORY?? NO STORY??

am i hater? probably

BASICALLY the story makes a valiant effort to explore the relationships between the girls and the central romance, but like these attempts were just soo rushed and underdeveloped, we just didnt feel the emotional beats ( get it BEATS ) truly landing. through the story, we get repeatedly told that Zoey is “too loud” and Mira is a “problem child,” but these traits are rarely shown in a way that reveals their complexity or impacts the characters growth. this makes the characters feel more like idk aesthetics? labels? rather than fully realized individuals.

the idea make the story centre around enemies tolovers romance was actually genuis, using the 'it' trope. but the execution is just not it, cause the two leads share like 7 interactions in total. without enough development or meaningful moments between them, the dialouge “what we had was real” just falls flat.

and i dont know where the arc was going with celine and rumis mum and celines entire character ig. they could've done so much with it.

but you know what? It worked. it WORKED. because this movie is not a story, it’s a strategy. They saw the target audience and said:

“kpop is huge.”

“enemies to lovers? that’s the one.”

“make them hot. no, hotter.”

"give them some banger songs to add to the playlists"

“add mental health but make it ✨relatable✨.” and boom. instant cult classic.

will I watch it again? probably. is it something thats going to stand the test of time? no

it lowkey had potential tho. the story is really smart- like they analysed their target audience and gave them what they needed but alsoooo.... yeah.

 but then again, this was never advertised as anything BUT Netflix's newest family-friendly generic romance film. low-key, it was exactly what it promised it would be.

also equestria girls: rainbow rocks parallels? huntrix - azulas trio from avatar the last airbender parallels?

[himbohimhoe]

Holding out hope that the writing in veilguard will get more bearable but rook saying to lucanis that it's "not nice that Spite hurt him" and he "shouldn't accept that it’s fine bc it wouldn't be ok if a person did that" like. That is a demon. Built off a single emotion called SPITE. Rook I am finding it really hard to believe that u have lived in thedas for more than 30 seconds.