#which is pretty indicative of my current state when it comes to writing :')

[bogkeep]

sketches for an S & D tier AU where morgan is in a rock band and alex is a very famous actor. this is nearly a year old, but i finally wrote the fic it's for :')

[lemon-muncher]

Reader smacking Katsuki's juicy ass jokingly one day, and Katsuki finding out he gets turned on by it??? But at first he's really shy and in deNiaL about it, but later on when reader does it (in private) again he moans accidentally and ensues teasing and sexual tension??????

bLUSHY BLUSH KATSUKI AND AGGRESSIVE SHYNESS UGHHH 🤌

I was actually writing a draft for the other Rin piece you asked for and then I saw this and was like " Imma make that boy suffer"

My inner alpha just can't take it😣😫 (I hate myself for that... sorry)

Anyways enjoy a very overdue Bakubottom

I also made the reader male since it wasn't specified

Since dating Katsuki, you've come to realize that his bratty attitude is much more than an act to seem tough in front of his classmates. He'd talk back to you despite being in agreement with you. He'd break 'rules' such as wiping away your kisses or purposefully leaving you on read. It annoyed you. Like any good boyfriend, you had ways to keep him in line.

You started off small by pinching his ear when he had an attitude or even restricting alone cuddle sessions with him. Luckily, your tactics worked...only for a while. Soon, your blonde boyfriend would act out more despite these punishments. You had to constantly think of new ways to keep him in line. And ideas were going to run out soon.

Currently, you stood smushed between a bunch of UA students. You were all cramped into the hallways as paparazzi tried to infiltrate the building, which was an unfortunate common occurrence. Katsuki happened to be next to you. He had his arm wrapped around your bicep in hopes of not getting separated from you.

It would have been cute if it weren't for him screaming at the top of his lungs to get people to move. You already had a headache from the commotion but Katsuki only made it worse. "GET THE HELL OUT MY WAY!" His loud voice was unheard from the noisy situation. You weren't sure why you did it but Katsuki was testing you patience. You lifted your hand slightly only to quickly bring it down on his ass. It was quick, stattling the both of you.

"I swear if you don't shut the hell up, Katsuki." Your voice was stern and dominant. You had guessed your 'love tap' worked since Katsuki looked the other way with a red face, indicated by his red ears. As you escorted him through the crowd, Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek, hoping you wouldn't see him in such a state. His mind was foggy and his heart quickened from such a confusing yet pleasurable action. His hard on was screaming for some form of released, luckily the crowded hallway hid it from others.

As the day continued, his mind continued to wonder towards the suttle sting on his ass. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you spanked him again. It clogged his mind so much he didn't even notice you dragging him to your dorm.

You threw him into your room causing his body to fall onto your twin sized bed, snapping him out if his 'trance-like state'. "Oh! Y/N what are you doing?" His cheeks turned a pretty shade of red as you trapped his body under yours. He knew he messed up from the cold glare plastered on your face. His inner brat made him squirm in your grasp, whining for you to let him go. "Why do you keep spacing out, Kats?"

Despite you soft voice, your eyes read that of a wild lion ready to pounce on its prey. Katsuki could only stare in at you as his face continued to redden. "Well? Are you just gonna stare at me? The hell's going on with you?" Despite your obvious concern, all the blonde could do was sink deeper into the cotton bed under your demanding gaze. "Can't stop thinking... of earlier.'' Almost in a stutter, the blonde's voice trembled as his truth spilled from his lips. And once he started, he couldn't stop despite how much he wanted to. He told you of how the sudden sting in his ass kept his attention from you all day. He spoke of the sudden fantasies that filled his head.

"Is that so..." Your eyes grew dark at the new information. Katsuki soon started to panic at your quick change in expression. "Who knew Katsuki Bakugou was such a pain slut! I would have though Midoriya was the class whore but~ I guess it's you... I sure am lucky!~" You groaned from above your boyfriend, his eyes wide and his face red from your voice. "Y/N~ Please help me!" A desperate cry left luscious lips and he pulled you down to grind against you. At the very second, almost as if a telepathic force was at work, you both knew you would have an interesting night.

Sorry this took so long to get out. I've been having the worst writer's block and I have a $60,000 scholarship interview to get ready for so I've been crazy busy. But know, I'm always trying to get something out for you guys. Now, I need your help...

[ampedupkaon]

August Writing Challenge Day 16: Mael/Gowther

AN: This takes place after the group have kicked the Demon King out of Meliodas' body. During that party at the Boar Hat. Mael is OOC... but he IS drunk here. I took a few liberties because of that.

“You're like... really pretty.” Gowther turned to look curiously at the source of the slurred words. He hadn't expected them from the current source; but he had heard them before.

“You're pretty as well, Mael.” It was true, but the Archangel got a little flustered by the words.

“You like me, huh?” There was a look in his eye, one Gowther couldn't quite interpret.

“I do like you, Mael.” Again, it wasn't a lie. But the Archangel appeared to have misconstrued it.

“So... is this the part where you take me to bed?” Apparently, being weepy and sad had morphed into flirtation as Mael had drank more booze. He'd worked out what that look was. The best place for a man as drunk as the Archangel was bed; so he answered as such.

“You are drunk and the best place for someone who is drunk is bed.” He answered with a nod.

“Hear that? I'm going to bed with Gowther!” Mael shouted. If anyone downstairs had heard him, they made no indication. Gowther wasn't flustered; the Archangel had stated a fact after all. He took hold of the Archangel's hand, leading him to the room he could 'sleep' in. It did have a bed he could lie in if he wanted, but he preferred resting his back and shoulders against the pillow when he was reading. He closed the door, finding Mael looking at him, that flirtatious look from before in his eyes.

“Is this the part where you undress me?”

“You don't have to take off your clothes to sleep.” Mael pouted at him, folding his arms.

“I don't wanna sleep. I... I bet you want me naked too.” He smirked, before reaching for the hem of his top. Gowther made no move to stop him; sure the other man would get the wrong idea. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do, because the Archangel dragged his top off. His trousers swiftly followed and apparently, being drunk meant Mael wasn't shy.

“You like?” He asked and Gowther swallowed. He wasn't sure what he'd expected after that battle; everyone who'd made it back drinking, but one of the Four Archangels stark naked wasn't it. He reminded himself that Mael was drunk and likely would remember little of this in the morning.

“You are drunk.”

“Maybe just a little. Am I hot?” Gowther reached up and put the back of his hand to the Archangel's forehead.

“You do not appear to be.” He answered, having checked the other man's temperature. Mael did not appear to like his answer; even though it was the truth.

“I'd wager quite a few of the people downstairs would kill for a goddess in their bed.” He sounded like he was going to head outside. Gowther couldn't have the other man embarrassing himself, so made a suggestion.

“What you need to be doing is getting into this bed.” He saw the other man's eyes light up.

“Now you're talking! How do you want me?” Mael had climbed on the bed, lying facing Gowther with a naughty smirk on his face. One which meant he was in the mood. He recalled that from some of the books he'd read. He also knew that Mael wasn't in his right mind at the moment and may regret anything he did come morning.

“Face down, arse up? Or do you want me on my back?” Gowther decided the other man would be able to sleep in the second of the two.

“On your back.” Mael rolled, spreading his legs a little.

“Want me to... work myself up a little for you?” His hands had started trailing his sides, heading down towards what made him a man. And that wouldn't help the Archangel get to sleep; quite the opposite.

“I want you to keep still.” Mael put both hands by his sides, grinning up at him.

“I get it, you want to work me up, don't you? Go on, make me scream!” Gowther shook his head.

“Mael, you are drunk. If you ask when you're sober, I might consider it.” The words landed on deaf ears. He climbed on the bed, going between the spread legs. It would be easy to lie on top of the Archangel like this.

“Y-yes! Do what you want to me! I'm yours darling!” Gowther took that as permission to plant a thought in Mael's head. One of 'you are sleepy'. The Archangel yawned, all thoughts of naughtiness forgotten. Gowther decided he could apologise in the morning for doing it, but it would help Mael out. He started to move away and felt the other man grab his hand.

“St-stay with me.” Mael looked scared, all traces of the flirtatious looks gone. Gowther lay down on top of him, unsurprised when the Archangel's arms slid to the small of his back to cuddle. He moved his arms out as far as he could to copy.

“Th-Thanks. I... I don't want to... to be alone right now.” This was more what Gowther had expected.

“I'll keep you company, Mael.” He told the nervous Archangel. He wasn't expecting the other man to lean and kiss his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, darling.” He whispered, eyelids sliding shut sluggishly.

“Sweet dreams Mael.” Gowther answered, closing his own eyes. He could meditate with his eyes closed for a while; even if he couldn't sleep. He felt the gentle rising and falling of the Archangel's chest beneath him and knew the other man had dozed off. He let the rhythm lull him into a trance, starting to meditate.

AN: Mael wakes up the morning after with a pounding head and casts Be Well on himself. The memories come crashing back in and he apologises profusely for how he acted; it was incredibly inappropriate! Gowther tells him not to worry about it; he was drunk after all. He also hints he didn't mind lying in bed with the Archangel... or the kiss. Mael gets more flustered by that information than by the way he'd acted last night!

[cottoncandy-cult]

New Kind Of Home Pt 2

Zelman Clock X Fledgling! Reader

(Y/n) giggled from where she sat in her room, she was a fledgling black blood that had recently joined the "darkness" of the special zone. She lived in Zelman Clock's manor; she was one of the few maids who took care of the east wing of the second floor. This had been Zelman's wing, which thankfully meant it didn't get near as messy as some of the other areas since Zelman himself wasn't innately messy. Like the other maids she was paid nicely, so she often spent her money on food and her hobbies. One thing she had become really taken with was making candles, sure there were all kinds of things she could do in this day and age but candle making had just really caught her eye. She loved getting to pick the scents and make the designs, she even had a little shop online to sell her creations. Of course, everyone knew about her hobby, at any kind of gift giving event she often made custom candles for the people she was close to. Currently she was sat on her bed, a sketch pad on her lap as she doodled some ideas for some new candle designs. Though she was quick to put down her pencil when a knock at the door caught her attention, she looked up in the direction of the sound as she sat up straight. "Come in." She tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow as she saw her boss come in. "Hey there, Sayuka said you missed lunch, so I came to check on you." He stepped into the room, his hands in his pockets as he glanced around. Despite being seen as a villain by some, Zelman paid attention to those who served under him and took great care of them.

"Sorry, I got hit with some inspiration and lost track of time." The young woman sat the sketch pad to the side, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. "You can sit down if you like Sir." She smiled sweetly as the red-haired old blood chuckled, moving to sit in the chair at her desk. "So, what kind of candles are you making this time? Those cupcake candles you did for Jura's birthday were pretty popular." Zelman leaned forward, peaking at her sketch pad. Something she happily passed to him, (Y/n) loved getting to talk about her creations. "I wanna do some pie themed candles, I was thinking of doing 3 kinds. Apple and cinnamon, Peach and Vanilla, and Mixed berry. I was gonna keep the design simple, layer 3 different colors each." She pointed to the designs, explaining her thoughts as she indicated to the colored layers of each candle drawing. "I see, simple and classic is always appreciated. I think the Peach one sounds best though, so make sure you make an extra for me, ok?" He had winked at the woman, not oblivious to her blush as she nodded her head quickly. "Of course, if you ever have any requests let me know. I like getting to make personalize candles."

The young woman scratched the back of her head in embarrassment, trying to talk away her flustered cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind, I'm sure you've noticed I always have a candle burning in my favorite rooms. So, it would be nice to get something personally made for me, having it be one of your products just makes it all the better." His words had (H/c) female stuttering and stumbling over her words, something that stopped with a squeak when one of Zelman's large hands gently cradled her cheek. He stared into her eyes, his grin never faltering. "Just as I thought, you're even cuter when you're flustered." His thumb stroked her cheek, and in her flustered state all she could think to do was hide her face. So, she turned it into his palm, closing her eyes as she listened to Zelman chuckle. "Would you like to have lunch with me (Y/n)? A new restaurant opened in the old sector, so I was going to check it out." He slowly sat back, removing his hand as she had finally met his gaze once more. "S-sure, I've finished writing down my ideas anyways…" She bit her lip, her hand fiddling with the pencil that sat on her bed. "Let me get ready first, I don't wanna go out in public in my maid outfit. That would draw so much attention." She blushed darker at the thought, having made the mistake of doing it once and there wasn't a single person that WASN'T looking at her. Though her words made Zelman laugh, nodding his head. "Understandable, I'll be waiting in the common room downstairs. Meet me down there when you're ready." He winked at her again just to see her flustered face once more, then moved to stand and exit the room. Once that door closed behind him (Y/n) flopped back on her bed, her hands resting over her racing heart as she took several deep breaths. She wasn't oblivious to how attractive her boss was, the other female workers were often desperate for his attention and fawned over the older male. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, despite his behavior she didn't want to assume this was a date and embarrass herself later by saying the wrong things.

Though she didn't spend long like this, after all he was waiting on her regardless of the reason why they would be sharing this meal. It didn't take long for (Y/n) to get changed, she didn't do anything too fancy. A simple (F/c) sundress with some black tights and a pair of flats, she had worn a few bracelets around one wrist and a chain necklace that had a red jewel which rested against her collarbone. Her footsteps were quick but quiet, not wanting to seem desperate or accidentally trip in front of him. Before she entered the common room, (Y/n) came to a stop and took a moment to brush out the skirt of her dress and adjust the top to make sure it was settled comfortably but nicely. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting Sir." She entered the room with a shy smile, he had changed as well into something a little less recognizable for him. Leaving his beanie off he had brushed out his hair, settling on wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Despite the relaxed look, he still brought color to her cheeks at the sight. "Not at all, I actually just set down before you arrived." He moved to stand, approaching her with his hands in his pockets. He stood close to her, offering her a fanged smile as his cologne engulfed her. "You ready to head out? I was checking the reviews, and this place is supposed to have some pretty good grilled food." He offers her his arm, grinning at her darkening blush while she slipped her arm within his own and nodded.

All she could do was swallow quietly; afraid she'd stumble over her words if she tried to speak in that moment. She took a slow breath, looking up at him as calmly as she could. "Thanks for inviting me, it's been a while since I've gone somewhere new to eat." She looked away from him after that statement as they made their way out the door, causing the old blood to chuckle and hold his head high. "It's no fun to try something new alone, besides you always make for interesting company." His bold words made her heart flutter, she had to focus on her breathing a moment as she looked up at him once more. "I enjoy your company as well, Cayne and Sei can be somewhat intimidating so I'm glad it's you I work under." This made Zelman chuckle, his head tilting as he gave her a fond look. "I'm glad you're so comfortable with me, I'd hate to think I scare you. I'm glad Sayuka brought you to my home, as a fledgling I can imagine it was quite lonely coming to the special zone on your own." His words held an understanding tone, Zelman had seen many people come and go within the special zone and within his domain. Most of those that came on their own found themselves feeling lost, the special zone was a big place and could be a little hard to get used to.

"I will admit it was overwhelming, I was beyond lost in the city and if it wasn't for Sayuka I'm not sure I would have found a place to live that night. I was a bit scared at first, I wasn't really sure what I should be doing but you made it easy for me being so naturally organized." She smiled softly at the thought as she stared ahead, she had been so afraid at first. But she had been given ample patience to get adjusted to her new life. "You reminded me of a kitten when you were first brought back, soaked in the rain and jumping at every noise. It was pretty cute, I felt bad for your cause you looked so out of place. So, I had you placed in my personal wing since I figured it would be low maintenance and easier for you to adjust to. I meant to adjust your duties once you had got used to the place, but there was no real need for it and since I needed someone to clean my wing anyways, I decided to just let you stay where you were. Plus, I got used to seeing you in the mornings on my way to breakfast. It was a nice routine, and I wasn't ready to give it up yet, I know you aren't a morning person but watching you sleepily waddle down the halls just makes my day." He chuckled as he looked to her, seeing the way her cheeks flushed as she looked into his eyes made his own still heart beat once more. "You aren't wrong, I hate being awake early but the sooner I get my chores done the sooner I can read or work on my hobbies." She turned her head to the side, subconsciously leaning into his side and not noticing til his arm slipped out of hers and wrapped around her waist. It left her flustered at first, though she had soon melted into his side as she took comfort in his presence despite how he made her heart race uncontrollably.

"You know, I'd like to spend more time with you if you're up to it. I'd love to see how you make your candles, if that's ok." He smiled down at her, one of his pointed fangs visible as they walked together. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she hoped it made it harder for him to see her face directly. "I wouldn't mind, no one's ever asked to see how I do it before. Maybe you can help me design a candle, you know pick out the colors and smells and stuff…" She bit her lip, fighting the urge to meet his gaze which she could feel focus on her. "Alright, it's a date then." He winked at her when she looked at him in shock over his wording, causing him to give into his urge and press a kiss to her cheek before watching her brain short circuit. They slowed to a stop as she stared at him as if he just laid the stars at her feet. Releasing her side he took her hand, raising an eyebrow as he pressed another more gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles and kick start her brain once more causing her to stumble over various words before giving up and hanging her head while hiding her face with her hand. He loved her reactions; it made him want to smother her with affection until she was a flustered mess. For now though, he held back, lacing his fingers with her own as he led the way to the restaurant for their planned lunch.

[valeriianz]

Hi, @chaosheadspace here. (Anon cause sideblog and stuff).

I have a question regarding your playlist for the playlist you made for your Dreamling band AU. (Which is very good, btw. I'm looking for new music atm and was elated being greeted with someone saying "I want to skin you alive". Glorious.)

Did you choose the songs you think they might have played or did you choose songs that embodied the characters and the setting for you? Please feel free to ramble at length.

Hello! Oh goodness... I'm so happy to receive this ask. I've never thought much about music while writing fics (I don't even listen to music while I'm writing, I find it very distracting) but given this is a BAND au, it was almost inevitable (90% of the songs on the playlist were added before I even published the fic). Allow me to ramble, since you've given me permission haha.

All of these songs already exist somewhere on my Spotify, I listen to a lot of indie and alt rock and remember coming up with the idea for Bolt in the Blue and daydreaming A LOT about Endless as a band and what they might sound like. So, while I was commuting to work, cleaning my apartment, doing laundry, I had my Spotify on a constant shuffle and every time a song popped up that made me think about Endless, I tossed it into a playlist. A lot of edits were made before I decided to publish the final draft lol.

So while this did start out as what I imagined Endless would sound like, I also started to think about what each member might contribute to said playlist. I thought of it like... when you're at a show and music is playing through the speakers while you wait in the crowd and the stage is being set up. I could picture the whole band making a playlist and contributing equally.

I tell you, and myself, that it's not that deep. It's music that gives me vibes for the band only, and doesn't reflect the fic at all. Well, except one song. Mile Deep Hollow by IAMX is such a Dream song to Hob that it makes me vibrate while listening to it now:

So thank you You need to know That you dragged me out Of a mile deep hollow And I love you You brought me home 'Cause you dragged me out Of a mile deep hollow

I mean... no explanation needed. Hob is Dream's light and is the one who inspires him and drags him up from a deep darkness (kind of spoiler but eh, I like to think I'm pretty predictable and we could all see that happening from a mile away).

But the other tracks? Eh... I mean some definitely give off vibes but I wouldn't connect any of them to the fic itself. Even the fic title, Bolt in the Blue, while obviously taken from the LPX song, is not indicative of the story at all (that's a separate post though, it's all a metaphor lmao). Which is why, secret's out, I'm currently building a new playlist that will go along with the fic chapter by chapter lol. But that won't be ready until Bolt in the Blue is finished. I kind of realized, very recently, that I wanted a proper playlist to go along with the themes and characters in the fic.

So, while Endless' Personal Playlist is exactly that- just songs that one: I imagine the band could actually write and perform but also two: all made together and music they'd all rock out to in their tour bus... this new playlist I'm making will accurately describe and emulate the plot. I'm having a fucking blast building it and can't wait to share it with everyone :)

And just for fun, here's who I think added what track to the Endless playlist (as I've stated in the past, music is subjective and who you connect each song to is up to interpretation. And here's mine, and yes, there are some repeats):

Dream:

Poison by Alice Cooper Mile Deep Hollow & The Great Shipwreck of Life by IAMX Nothing Personal by Night Riots Don't You Forget About Me by Billy Idol

Death:

Bolt in the Blue & Slide by LPX Stone Cold Crazy by Queen Shout by Placebo Holy Mother by Starbenders

Despair:

Human & High by Anavae Blue Monday by Orgy Everything Black by Unlike Pluto Stone Cold Crazy by Queen

Desire: High by Avavae Youth Gone Wild by Skid Row Shout by Placebo Modern Day Cain by IDKHBTFM Hang on to Yourself & Massacre, The New American Dream by Palaye Royale

Delirium:

Maniac by Carpenter Brut Youth Gone Wild by Skid Row Call Me a Saint by YOKANA Don't You Forget About Me & Mony Mony by Billy Idol

Alright, I'm finished lol THANK YOU for letting me ramble!! I hope everyone reading enjoys the rock n roll or at the very least discovers something new from the playlist :D

[remidyal]

Wing!

A snippet I daydreamed about or was really looking forward to writing. Hmm, well, I don't have any of those in the bank (stuff like this gets written pretty quickly!), so this is actually going to be something that's already written and published, and probably the scene that absolutely most was fully formed in my head before even starting the fic and I was REALLY looking forward to getting to - this is as spoiler free as I can get from this section - from Lunacy Chapter 31 (which chapters 29-31 as a whole are a sequence that fits this description):

Adaine knew, immediately, that something different had happened than was supposed to happen with Detect Thoughts.  Whether it was for weal or for woe, she was uncertain.

She was standing on the edge of a city that had been at war, in winter.  Everything looked destroyed, fragmented.  Cracks in the ground and pavement below, no life anywhere...  There were free floating clouds of toxic-looking gas hanging in midair.  Even as she looked out, another brick fell from the husk of the nearest building.

This place must be Aelwyn's mind, but if so, it wasn't exactly promising.

Adaine walked forward, glancing up.  It was the brightness of daylight, but it was the moon hanging overhead, a waning half-moon that matched its current state in reality whether by luck or as an indication that even out of her mind Aelwyn had the same sort of awareness of the moon that Adaine and Tracker and Jawbone did.

There was a flash of motion in the corner of her eye, over near one of the ruined towers.  "Aelwyn?"  She called over, cautiously.  Something had to be left of Aelwyn in here, something that at least knew Adaine's name and seemed to know that she should be sorry for something.  Adaine approached, reaching a hand out and touching the tower to steady herself along the way, and...

She was in a place that she did not remember and yet was somehow familiar.  It must have been huge, anyway - the halls were enormous, the doorways wider and taller than even a giant, the carpets plush beneath her bare feet.  She was not in control of this body, and she was not the one feeling everything, and yet she was.  A passenger, for this moment.

An infant was crying, through the nearby doorway.  Adaine felt herself moving to peek through it, hands holding to the doorframe to keep on her surprisingly unsteady legs.  There was a crib there, enormous, and an infant with pufts of blonde hair was screaming out for anyone to come and look at her and help her.

Adaine felt a hand on her shoulder, tugging at her roughly away from the door.  Angwyn Abernant was there, enormous but otherwise looking just as he had right before she had thrown a lightning bolt at him not too long ago, and his expression was neutral.  "Aelwyn, love, you mustn't reward Adaine with attention when she's being unreasonable like that.  Your mother's unseen servants check on her regularly; she has everything she needs."

But I want to see her was the thought that Adaine could feel as though it were her own, knowing for certain that it wasn't but that it was Aelwyn's, even as she gave a nod, and a quiet "Yes, father" instead.  At absolute most Aelwyn was three and she was already talking like that and somehow sounding so polite and walking away after Angwyn instead of doing what she'd wanted and looking to make certain Adaine was truly okay.

A flash of light, and Adaine found herself back in control, back in her 'body', such as it was.  A projection of her body, somewhere else in this ruined city, no longer along the outskirts but instead surrounded by ruined buildings on all sides, the ruins forming a maze.

Aelwyn was there, next to her.  Sort of.  She was maybe ten, in the lower school uniform for Hudol that Adaine had worn and then worn a knockoff for for her first few weeks at Aguefort, before she'd been kicked out of home.  Thick scars covered her arms around her wrists, and her legs near her ankles, matching the ones she had in reality.  "Oh."  She said, eyes wide as she looked at Adaine.  "You're alive, after all."

"Did you think I wasn't?"  Adaine asked, uncertainly stepping forward, trying to approach the kid version of her older sister.

[batteryhome]

The Best External Hard Drives and SSDs for 2024

Cloud storage might be convenient but external storage is still considered a safer option by many. And when you're running out of internal storage for your family photos or work projects, an external hard drive or solid state drive could be a good investment. We tested external hard drives and found the best storage devices at a competitive price for all your external storage needs.

Even though prices have decreased over time, an external SSD with terabytes of storage is still a significant investment. You might also want to consider hard disk-based external drives. These aren’t as fast as SSDs but strike a better balance between capacity and cost. Regardless of your choice, your external drive may also require specific cables. These are just a few factors to keep in mind when trying to find the perfect hard drive for your needs.

All of CNET’s top picks for external hard drives and SSDs are compatible across platforms, including Windows PCs, Macs and gaming consoles like PlayStation and Xbox. You might, however, have to format the drives for your platform of choice. Often, they'll be designated to work with a specific platform out of the box and sometimes they come with backup software that’s platform-specific. Unless otherwise indicated, all the PC drives mentioned here are compatible with Windows but can be formatted for Mac. Many of them include cables or adapters to accommodate USB-C and USB-A ports. If they don’t happen to be included, you can easily buy dongles for about $12.

Console gamers will want to keep an eye out for platform-specific details. For example, the PS5 can store and play PS4 games from an external drive but not PS5 games. The Xbox Series X, on the other hand, can store Series X games on an external hard drive, but you'll have to transfer them to internal storage before playing them. Both consoles will let you expand internal storage. The Xbox Series X uses a proprietary Seagate-made storage expansion card, and the PS5 uses a more standard M.2 SSD.

With those caveats in mind, our current top picks for the best external hard drive and external solid-state drive are below. These (or nearly identical models with less storage capacity) have been used or anecdotally tested by CNET editors. We’ll update our list of the best external hard drives and SSDs as we test new products. Ideally, you should have redundant backups -- either off-site or in the cloud -- for important data and large files like family photos, in case of theft or fire. Make sure to encrypt your data, too.

Rugged external mini SSD

SanDisk Extreme Portable 1TB SSD

Western Digital, which owns SanDisk, sells its WD My Passport SSD as well this SanDisk External Portable SSD for basically the same price. I like the design of this model a little better, and it's technically ruggedized with an IP65 rating, meaning it can withstand a sustained spray of water. Also, it's dust- and shock-resistant and has a USB-C interface.

The latest version offers speeds up to 1,050MB/s (just over 1GB per second) and is right around $90 for the 1TB version. While step-up models like the SanDisk Extreme Pro offer faster read/write speeds with the right computer, that may be overkill unless you regularly work with very large files.

Your speed will vary if you're moving a mishmash of files to or from the USB drive, but when copying a single large file you should be able to get close to that fast transfer speed.

Best ultrafast gaming SSD for PCs and consoles WD Black P40 Game Drive First released in 2022, the WD Black P40 has come down in price and is now pretty affordable. It's an ultrafast SSD that's more geared toward recent Windows PCs equipped with USB 3.2 Gen2x2 dual-lane architecture that allows for a theoretical 20Gbps data transfer rate. It can also be used with consoles and Macs. It's capable of speeds up to 2,000MB/s.

Rated for surviving drops of up to 2 meters, the drive is durable and has an RGB lighting element that can be customized with a Windows PC.

You do pay a bit of a premium over the WD Black D30 (see below), which comes with a stand and is more geared to game consoles. This drive is more future-proof as PCs are increasingly equipped with USB 3.2 Gen2x2. Kingston's XS2000 has similar specs for around $10 less for the 1TB model, but some users have noted this drive offers slightly better write speeds.

Best for expanding storage for Xbox Series X/S games

Seagate Storage Expansion Card

For better or worse, there's currently only one way to expand the storage on your Xbox Series X/S for next-gen Series X/S games: the Seagate Expansion Card. Similar to the storage situation with the PS5, you can plug in any external SSD or hard drive to expand the storage for standard Xbox games (previous-gen), but you can store only native Xbox Series X/S games on the game console's internal memory or the Seagate Expansion Card.

Seagate FireCuda 530 with Heatsink

You can expand storage for PS4 games on your PS5 by adding a standard external SSD because you can play PS4 games directly from an external SSD. That's not the case for PS5 games, which take up a ton of space and can be played only from the PS5's internal drive or an M.2 SSD that you install in a special expansion bay inside your PS5. 

While the Seagate FireCuda 530 technically isn't an external SSD, it's not so different from Seagate's Storage Expansion Card for the Xbox Series X/S in that it's an NVMe SSD with a very high transfer speed (up to 7,300MB/s, according to Seagate, though my PS5 listed the top rate at 6,800MB/s).

[write-feel-live-love]

Welcome to the Happiness Project

So I don't know if you're familiar with Gretchen Rubin, but she has this thing called the Happiness Project. She also has a great podcast called Happier. I highly recommend it.

Anyway, if you want to learn more about her, go for it. I'm writing about my own Happiness Project, based off of hers. The gist of it is that you need to pick a theme per month (some aspect of self-improvement) and then pick mini goals to achieve that lead you closer to that theme.

So here's my first entry:

Month #1: Heal

I learned in therapy recently that I have been depressed for 6 years. Yes, this was news to me. I'm apparently really good at denial. Like.. Pro Level. Even more recently I discovered I've been depressed since I was 12. Again, Pro Level of denial.

I've always been someone to take my labels seriously and when I heard this news, I spiraled for a hot minute. I didn't know how to adjust this new label into my current life: Mother. Wife. Teacher. Where does Pro Level Depression Denier fall?

So I decided maybe it was time to step back and heal. Before I get too deep, you need to know one thing. It's been almost a year since I had my second child and post-partum depression/ anxiety has kicked my ass.

Goal #1: Start a new vitamin to combat the hair loss that my beautiful baby caused. Surprisingly, this one might actually be working. I showered tonight and not nearly as much hair fell out of my head as usual. Still could have been a wig for a small doll, but we're getting there!

Goal #2: Do a session of yoga or walk on the treadmill for 15 minutes every night. This one has also gone surprisingly well. I've only missed one might when depression hit a little harder than normal. But with the support of my fantastic husband, we got back on track the next night. Again, I started this project mid-way through March so this might not actually be THAT impressive, BUT I have 2 children under the age of 5. I think it's a pretty fucking great start.

Goal #3: Continue to work on banishing oil. I'm working my way into a new religious path. Part of which values protection. Right now, I'm working on banishing negativity from my life. Hence, banishing oil. Currently basking in the moon light charging up so I can actually use it in a ritual this week. (P.S.- No judgment please, I'm not here for it.)

Goal #4: Make Spring Break plans! I'm a teacher. I'm a burnt out teacher. Who has two small children I still have to watch over Spring Break because I created them and am responsible for them. Hence, we need to get the fuck out of the house next week or I'm going to go fucking crazy.

Goal #5: Identify the Top 3 things bugging the crap out of me at work (bonus if you can make a plan to work on them). I'll be honest here. I haven't gotten to this one yet. Work is hard right now. State testing is upon us, the kids know Spring Break is coming. Every one is burnt out and checked out. I still have a week left of March. I got time!

Goal #6: Make a list of the things that make me feel sexy. My sex life is in the trash. Post-partum and regular depression have taken my will to bone. I used to be a machine. So, to combat this, I need to find what makes me feel sexy again. So far, and pathetically, clothes have been it. Until I thought about it, and realized that somehow dancing also works. I need to give this some more thought, but yeah. We're getting there.

Last Minute Goal #7: 24 for 24. Also stolen from Gretchen Rubin. As indicated by the disclaimer. This one is last minute. So I don't have an update for this yet. It's coming.

So yeah. If you've read this, thanks. If not, it's all good. This is more for me than for anybody else anyway. I've been told that if you want to be a writer, write. I used to write all the time to express my thoughts and learn how I really feel. (Kind of informs the name of this blog, which I'll explain some day.) So here I am. Writing to figure out who this new person is, if the old me is in here somewhere, and how those two people are going to get along for the rest of my life.

[dova-70]

I need to motivate myself to write more so I'm posting, here.

Subject is sitting in interview room, appearing bored, [NOTE: biometric monitor logs show increased heart rate and perspiration, indicating subject is hiding anxiety] wearing standard issue black detainee jumpsuit, with handcuffs threaded through the table to hold subject, and additional power dampening bracelets on his wrists, ankles, and neck.

*Dr Jameson opens the door to interview room, staying in the doorway*

Dr Jameson: Hello, sorry for the wait, just getting the last of your papers together, we'll be ready to start in just a minute.

Subject: No, no don't worry, take your time... Not like I'm going anywhere *subject shakes hands, rattling the handcuff chains*

Dr Jameson: Right, well, just one minute.

*Dr Jameson leaves again, for 6 minutes, during which, the subject can be seen making small nervous movements; head twitches, nervous tapping of fingers on the table, or foot to the ground, etc, before Dr Jameson reappears*

Dr Jameson: Sorry about that, dozen different papers, from a dozen departments, you understand.

Subject: Oh of course, of course, I can leave, come back tomorrow if you need more time to get ready?

*Dr Jameson looks unimpressed at the subjects unimpressive attempt at humour*

Dr Jameson: uh huh, that won't be necessary, are you ready to begin?

Subject: Ready, willing, and oh, so eager!

Dr Jameson: ...Please state your name for the log.

*Subject takes a few seconds, coming to terms with the doctor being, in his own words from a post-interview questionnaire "boring as hell" and would "like a more fun one next time", which has been forwarded to Dr Jameson*

Subject: ...*sighs* Kevin Harwood

[Note: subject will be referred to as "Kevin" for remainder of log]

Dr Jameson: And can you confirm your ability, as well as your current, normal, and potential power class, and reasonings for each of them?

Kevin: My ability is "static shock", it allows me to create electric currents by... Pulling electrodes out of atoms, or something. I am "currently" at a power class "E" because of these handy dandy little bracelets, *Kevin shakes his hands again, motioning to the power dampening bracelets* which weaken me to the point that I'm pretty sure a hamster on a wheel would make a more effective generator than me!

My regular class is a "B" because if you let me charge up for a few minutes, normally, I can generate enough to stop a person's heart, but again *jingles bracelets*. And my potential class is "S" because a *few* people *think* that *maybe* that *if* I spent *years* training, I *might* get powerful enough to like, destroy a city. Or at least kill everyone in it, and I don't know, blow up their computers?

Dr Jameson: Well, I feel the need to make some small notes to that summary; first, you generate a small "beam" that causes elec*trons* to be pulled from their atoms, often causing them to collide with other electrons which also get pulled, which creates a chain reaction.

Second, because of that chain reaction result, if you *did* output enough energy, you *would* destroy a city, if not worse, because it would turn into a fully fledged nuclear reaction. Third, you do, in fact, make less energy than a hamster currently.

Dr Jameson: Moving on, though, would you like to explain how you ended up in custody with us?

Kevin: let's not pretend I have a choice, doc, I'm sitting here in a cell and your asking if I'd *like* to do anything. Ask me it straight doc, all I ask.

*Dr Jameson scratches at the bridge of his nose, the audio recorder picking up small pieces "just semantics" "no, it's good" "went to university" "top of my field" during which, Kevin appears entertained to be annoying Dr Jameson.

Dr Jameson: Kevin Harwood, explain for the log how you came to be in our custody.

Kevin: Oh, well when you get so commanding like that, how can I refuse an order? I was leaving a club, and heard a struggle from an alley, I looked and there were two men... assaulting a woman, and so I stepped in, and kinda got my #### handed to me an-

Dr Jameson: How come you didn't use your ability?

Kevin: I... It takes a bit to charge, as I said; a few minutes to kill someone, there were two of them, and so whether I wanted to go for a kill or not wouldn't've mattered. That's the logical explanation anyway, the real reason is I just didn't really think of it, you know? The second you realise you're looking at something like that, you just run to stop it, you don't really think: " oh wait, let's just hold back for a minute to charge my instant death touch" right?

Dr Jameson: So you're just a good Samaritan?

Kevin: I don't know about that, I mean, would you not do the same? Wouldn't anyone?

Dr Jameson: I don't know... I think I might've been scared, in your position.

Kevin: No. I guess you've never been in a situation like that before? It's not like you're seeing red, or anything, but you don't think clearly; you just see a threat, and your body moves to, *neutralise* it, I guess.

[Note: Dr Jameson has been present during several raids, riots, and escape attempts, being forced to, in some cases, take up arms for self defence.]

Dr Jameson: I guess I wouldn't know what it's like, no, but you speak like this is normal for you? "I can tell you've never been in that situation before" and all. Is this not the first time?

Kevin: I've stopped a few robberies, like, one dude busts open a window to get in a store, I creep up behind him and give him a shock, tie him up, and leave an "anonymous tip". Except this time, of course, there were two of them, and I didn't even zap either, initially. So I'm on the ground, getting my #### kicked in, as mentioned, and I start charging, eventually I get a charge off, and... kill one of them, and the other runs, piss scared.

At this point, I can barely walk, I have broken ribs and, you know, I'm in bad shape. So, either the guy, or someone who heard calls the police, not the girl, she kinda stayed, whether frozen stiff with fear, or something else, I don't know, but she didn't call them. When they come, I don't have the energy to put up a fight, I get detained, and once it becomes clear what I can do, I get passed to the experts.

And here I am now, recounting my life's story, pouring my heart out, and you haven't offered any condolences, or! Or! Made any moves to keep up your end of the conversation! This whole time it's been "Kevin, tell me about your powers." "Kevin, how can your dad still hate you when he's 6 feet under, you know that doesn't make sense, Kevin!" "Remind me of your name, Kevin!" It's not very good conversation, you need to work on that! Here, let's try some roleplay, I'll be the doctor, you be the patient! Now, what's your name? For the log, you understand.

*Dr Jameson takes a few moments to, as he put it in his interview assessment "imagine myself on a bench in a fairground, looking off to the horizon of the sea" before collecting his papers and standing, moving to the door*

Dr Jameson: well thank you for your time, Mr. Harwood, I think this has been very helpful, but we might have to call you back in for further interviews in the future. Good day.

*Dr Jameson leaves the room, leaving Kevin alone, looking disappointed*

Kevin: how come that patient gets to leave?

[End of transcript]

[witchmoon]

by our red string of fate.

Part 3

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem! Reader

Summary:  Aemond broods reflects on the night he met his love interest Y/N, leading him to reassess his current situation + internal conflicts. He also searches for creative ways to occupy his time while he his impatient ass waits to see her again.  

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW Angst, Language, Masturbation 

Author’s Note: Slow burn AF, but we’re getting there! Writing this exhausted me because heavy feels, but I love it and hope you do too! Multi-part wip / Comments always welcomed <3

ALSO- I’m actually pretty soft for Aegon, so apologies for making him an insufferable little villain in this.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

pretend to love my imperfection at least for a minute, infect my dreams with your taste, you know how to enter in me.

Aemond waits for her, conjuring sinful thoughts that begin to distract in a frustrating way, forcing him to practice a restraint that’s hard to fully commit to. He fights the temptation to comb the streets of King’s Landing in a desperate attempt to locate her, finding that he really has no patience at all. It’s a mad idea, but he begins to seriously entertain it as one day fades into the next and still nothing from Y/N.

He strategizes plans he knows he’ll never execute, mentally listing the most affluent parts of the city as his main starting points for the search he’s too proud to actually undertake. Nonetheless, he carries on with this mind-game primarily to occupy the time, attempting to stay level headed and maintain some semblance of hope that he will see her again.

The truth is he misses her, left in a state of constant wonder these past few days of where she is and why she has yet to return to him. He’d really like to know because he’s steadfast in his desire to continue building on their relationship and know her more, as well as share more of himself.

Isn’t this what she had wanted as well?

The lack of response feels damning, cutting him deeper than he cares to admit. He’s growing tired of the wait, where immediately following that night, he’d carried an abundance of ambition - so certain that all would be well. Everything had felt setup for success, but it’s quickly been replaced with agitation, though Aemond isn’t sure if it’s towards Y/N or himself.

It’s worrisome as time progresses and still no word arrives to give indication of a possible reunion between them. In this way, he begins to feel helpless, like maybe his approach had been completely off base and he’s just now fully realizing the error of his ways. Maybe he would have benefited from being less assured in the presumption that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It’s hard to know for sure.

But now when he reflects on his decision to give her full control of their fate, the intention seems deranged, even to him. It’s a regret he fears he may end up living with for the rest of his life if the tides don’t turn soon within his favor. He probably should have just been cordial, fucking normal, like any other sane person might have been, and inquired upfront where he would be able to call upon her in the coming days.

He had done nothing of the sort, which feels idiotic now. However, Aemond really hadn’t wanted to force her hand that night, even despite the overarching evidence of their mutual attraction, the undeniable chemistry. For once, he’d wanted to have the experience of being pursued.

And he didn’t regard the approach as a game, so much as a selfish experiment to prove to himself that he was wanted - and not wanted by just anyone, but by the very same person he wanted too.

Perhaps it’s in ignorance, but he’d also thought at the time that the universe should just go on and conspire with her for what came next. He had been willing to take that chance without further intervention, because his faith in what he’d been feeling since meeting Y/N had already instilled a confidence in him that they were of the same mind.

However, lately he’s been second guessing his choices, finding only criticism when he re-examines his former train of thought on the topic. Perhaps it had been a grave misjudgment to bypass the finer details and fail to put some insurances into play to prevent this uncertainty, but he’s rather slow to convince himself of this as a possible fact. He doesn’t want to be that cynical, not yet, and he holds out hope that if it’s meant to be, then it will be.

You need to accept this.

She’s worth the wait, he’s convinced, recalling so many qualities he had identified during their brief time together - the sincerity of her words and the kindness of her actions.

There was also the physical attraction - substantial from his viewpoint with her devastating beauty, how she possessed that and intelligence, more than any other women he’d ever encountered before. And he would know because he's hyper-observant, rather particular and aware of the personality traits and habits of those he meets.

The laughter and wit, recalling the utter sweetness of her leaves him to miss her impossibly. And he’s fully aware that she’s the only reason he’s still remained at the capital, never intending to stay beyond the week. In any other scenario, he would have been gone already, providing whatever vague excuse necessary to resume traversing the skies, anything to get away from here.

Even before Aegon’s name-day celebration, he’d already intended to head North following the event, overdue for a visit to the abandoned ruin nestled deep in the moon mountains. If there was ever a secret that Aemond kept, it was this one - an unmapped location that he had discovered and claimed for his own some years ago.

It was mere happenstance that he’d come across the location while scouting enemy lines with Vhagar. It had good structural bones, and he’d immediately idealized the design of a secret refuge in his mind - one in which he could escape to on a whim. Gods knew he needed a place that wasn’t under the same roof as his mother or brother, but it had developed to be so much more.

Keeping his project under wraps, Aemond took to repairing and furnishing it on his own, though progress had been painstakingly slow as second priority to his duties to the crown. Nonetheless, it had transformed in time to become functional and then livable again - something he took great pride in.

In ways, it’s become more his home than the Greens primary residence in the Red Keep, which is a place he never felt any great attachment too.

If he’s honest, he longs to return to the mountains sooner than later, keen to reconnect with the surrounding nature and all the tranquility that only a place that remote can afford. It’s a peace unlike any he’s ever known, one that certainly can’t be found in the city. And when he’s there, he’s always consumed by a sensation of walking on hallowed grounds - of being deeply connected to a worshipful wilderness, an inherent freedom.

i'm so disgusted by the victories i never conquered, i feel sorry for the defeats i am roughly heading to.

The memory of this beckons his soul, just as finding any opportunity to disconnect from the rest of the world will always have an attractive pull on him. And after the recent mouthful he’d received from the small council regarding his “abominable” behavior towards Aegon, he’s less inclined to stick around now, having grown tired of playing the role of the devoted prince regent on standby.

The resentment towards his station had peaked that night, inevitable and leaving him to fume over the reprimands, how he’d been told he was actually the problem. But it hadn’t stopped there, for Aemond had also received a subtle warning to refrain from romantic pursuits and engaging further with “outside distractions”. It was clear as day what they were implying.

Fuck the council and fuck Aegon.

Despite this anger, he refuses to leave the city, finding it an impossible task when he knows the woman of his dreams is somewhere just beyond these suffocating red walls. It’s excruciating being left in limbo though, and it feels like a personal purgatory stationed inside this damned fortress - the very place he’s been kept chained to for far too long.

She’s out there somewhere, and she’s walking around with my heart in her hands.

Aemond simply cannot leave yet, finding the thought unimaginable without seeing Y/N again, but he’s getting worn down the longer he remains. The majority of his time here revolves around politics and scheming, of treachery and family dramatics - all topics that hold some responsibility for the irreparable damage done to him over the course of his life.

It feeds his disgust, anger and rage, pushing him closer to the edge of his sanity, thinking any second could be the moment he finally breaks. He’s all too aware of how close he is, pressured to the point that surely it will be impossible for him to be put back together. And if that happens, he can’t begin to anticipate the level of self-destruction that might follow in its wake.

Please come to me darling, I am running out of time.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from her, only certain that something powerful exists when they’re together. And although it's a very broad assumption, he still can’t shake the feeling that there’s potential - a capability for more intimacy between them. It’s a higher love that’s being sought, and Aemond thinks it’s entirely possible that they could become each other’s haven if they so wished.

During this time of so many unknowns, having one constant could also be the difference between him giving a fuck about his life and what happens to him or not at all.

While he doesn’t want a savior per se, and would never press that upon her or anyone else, having something rooted for him to cultivate and grow and protect would be profound. It’s an idea he wants realized more than he’s ever admitted to anyone, even himself as he considers the night they met - how she’d inadvertently set the scene so perfectly for him, making the conquest seem like the obvious next step.

I would have her.

He’d been so drawn to Y/N, enticed by her mirrored interest in him and disinterest in everything else around them. Then there was her curious demeanor of contradictions, something he found relatable in that she had placed herself somewhere she didn’t actually want to be. Similarly, she’d been close to tears, eyes brimming with emotions and then a moment later, ready to convert that frustration into something more physically damaging.

It enticed him, to say the least. Instinctually he knew she was remarkable, someone to be adored and admired - cared for in a way maybe she never thought possible. And he felt capable of being the one to see this realized for her, wanting to be that person, rather precipitously hoping she might be agreeable to the design.

He was certainly up for the challenge.

you know how to softly torture, you know how to torture my innocence.

Although Aemond has never been in a serious relationship, he doesn’t refute the existence of a love that can persist between two people. To the contrary, he’s retained his romantic tendencies - holing them up all his life to remain stagnant, concealed, lying in wait until called upon by a pre-eminent receiver. At least that’s how he’d always secretly dreamt it would happen.

And it would seem that time for him may have finally arrived. However, there are certain realities he has to consider too, as bothersome as they are to recount…

He is complicated - thought of as damaged, even culpable by many and though it stings, he wouldn’t necessarily argue such generalizations regardless of how misguided they usually are from an outsider’s perspective.

Admittedly, his wounds have been slow to heal due to being so heavily stemmed and indefinitely attached to the last vestiges of his humanity. In fact, it’s the bad memories that keep him infected in such a way that it feels inescapable, burdensome, even after all this time.

In this regard, Aemond has struggled, weighted by an anger that’s allowed his hurt to define him so greatly, for so long - to the point that even he’s repulsed by his inability to simply accept and release all that’s been lost, all that will never be regained.

Though he tries to do this, the idea of moving beyond his past seems inconceivable with each attempt he makes, easier to just convince himself that a blissful way of living isn’t ever going to be part of his destiny. It’s a truth thats often driven him to the conclusion that he’s simply undeserving of such experiences anyway.

And if proven correctly, he wouldn’t be surprised, because he knows how fucking difficult he can be and how deep within himself he can go, to the point of being untouchable both physically and emotionally. It’s a defense mechanism, and he has no other explanation.

Who would want that? Who would want me?

For most of his life he’s been living at a distance from people for this very reason. Yet at the same time, he’s measured his own value based on other’s acceptance and understanding of him. It's a hard reality for a dreamer such as Aemond, especially as someone who has inherently always needed love, but has never known how to ask for it.

i’m not allowed to love - then i don't have to suffer and no heart breaks.

It’s a disheartening cycle, one he mulls over almost daily just to find some peace of mind, a semblance of control. But it just puts him in a fouler mood, with everyday feeling more intolerable than the prior, like a constant navigation through hellfire as he struggles to hold on.

He goes on searching for an abidance to his ruined fate, willing something that just won’t come, but he knows why - he still wants to believe in something beyond the tangible, an elusive magic he’s been chasing since boyhood.

Its fucked up, but most days he doesn’t really feel like he’s living either, which is something Y/N had expressed as well. It’s like a dagger to the heart, a permanent ache that he’s deeply intimate with. Somehow it hurts him more to know she shares these same controversies, hardships in life that have left her wanting with a spirit at least half-broken.

But he believes he could provide something of substance, something meaningful thats been absent in her life too. His caring nature compels him towards this idea and there’s a confidence in his capability. It’s reinforced when he reflects on the multitude of ways he’s demonstrated his loyalty and devotion throughout his life - in many a variation, primarily towards his dysfunctional family.

From a romantic perspective, he’s not yet put such behaviors into practice, but they must exist. He’s a giver, certain to be an attentive partner as well, and he’s motivated to provide more than one might expect because everything inside him has been so damn pent up.

It’s just something he finds that he wants to do with an eventual love, though this could be a means to overcompensate for how imperfect he feels he is… Unfortunately, he’s also an over-thinker, easily overtaken by suspicion and charted to question the motivations of others.

It’s just very difficult for him to grasp the concept that someone could want him and he reckons it's the control freak within that automatically cages him to cause further discourse.

Yes, idiot - it is.

It’s a figurative wall that’s proven to be as impenetrable as it is detrimental to his life, his happiness, at least until recently. Aemond continues to make efforts to improve on this front, finding its coming more naturally than before, which he accredits to a developing maturity and the natural passage of time. Even so, he never really escapes from this theory that everything will forever remain in opposition between his head and his heart, regardless of how hard he tries to claw out of the abyss, course correct old habits and persevere.

Still, he will continue to try.

All he’s ever wanted is a love so impossible.

not to be a cliche, but i feel bewitched.

He thinks about her again and all the characteristics that had registered to him, like how she was free-thinking and independent, yet still demonstrated a need to be supported - cared about and for, by someone. And there were also instances where her confidence felt lacking, but not in every aspect, which had immediately resonated for him.

During their first exchange she had really seemed so alone, and she was alone, he had found out later. But that initial first glance and his impression of her from across the room had really pushed him to go to her in an unfathomable way. Then when Aegon had shoved against her, even bold enough to try and lay a claim on her, he’d felt ready to break his brother’s face.

That encounter still plagues him, but there are so many additional draws now, including the benefit of anonymity. He can’t get over how when they had finally spoken, he’d realized rather quickly that she wasn’t familiar with him or his turbulent history, and that alone, was reason enough to be captivated.

It really is so rare, and Aemond is still unsure how to fully react, having no previous comparison to draw from. He can’t remember a time when someone wanted to know him, who didn’t already know him in one way or another, and the reality of this is incomparable.

There’s such a purity to the concept for him, despite still having reservations. He doesn’t necessarily doubt their compatibility, but he’s also not confident enough to assume anything she might actually feel. He needs to experience her to know for sure.

Along these lines of honesty, he also doesn’t want her to view him as someone in passing, who was nice to her in a moment of need, but nothing more or less coming from it. It's a depressing thought for him, especially since he already knows he wants more…

That blasted kiss.

He still hopes she’ll reach out. He was so sure she would as he walked away from her that night, but again, the certainty of the moment has since waned. To counteract this and tame the evolving distress, he’s tried his damnest to remain occupied in body and mind as a means to pass the time, but nothing is really coming to him as a viable distraction.

The anticipation blows as he stalks through the gardens in an attempt to quell his anticipation for he knows not what, but the Keep, even his own room has begun to feel like a prison again. He’s grown antsy in the wait, and it's tiresome when the memory of her lips flood through his mind again and again, the wine taste that lingered on them…

It leaves Aemond impossibly frustrated.

He wants more, glad he’d finally had the opportunity to initiate and act on their kiss. Truth be told, he was so close to doing it in the courtyard, but he just couldn’t, withdrawing at the last minute, preferring they didn’t have an audience for that first time.

Of course, people could have simply been looking at her, as she certainly drew attention with her looks, for which she seemed completely unaware of and he still can’t understand that phenomenon. But as a precaution, he’d thought better of it, and he can’t say that he’s disappointed how the events had unfolded in the godswood just a time later.

She had been so lovely, personable, thanking him for such basic things that had come natural for him to provide. It’s a sweet memory that leaves him yearning to give her more of that, whatever she needs.

The way she’d just stepped into his arms without preamble had come with such an unexpected impact to his heart - one he hadn’t been prepared for, though he was elated to receive her in his embrace. He could tell that she was someone who needed someone, and that sensation of hope that he could be her person lingers on.

You just don’t open yourself like that, hold someone like that and make them feel like the most important person in the world to then never want to see them again.

He’s fucking convinced of this.

i'll need a cruel master who will save my vicious soul, but a master i will hate…

After several hours of field training, Aemond returns to his rooms sweaty and exhausted.

He’d pushed himself further today than ever before, at least that he could recall, spurred by his own growing irritation of feeling so fucking forlorn. Despite his pointed efforts, he’s no less despondent within the privacy of his bedchamber upon return, alone once more to sit with his thoughts.

He feels unhinged when he erratically begins undressing, breaking the fastenings on his sporting tunic along the way. He needs to be freed of the layers as soon as possible, bothered beyond belief by such material confines.

The garment drops to the floor where he’s standing in record time and then he’s unraveling bit by bit as he quietly revels in the sensation of the cool air hitting his naked chest. He pulls his shirt over his head, quickly adding the bundled heap to join his belts and sheathed weapons.

His belongings lay scattered, haphazard about the floor as he begins pacing the room with no clear intent on what his next move is.

Nonetheless, the space seems to cave as he welcomes the subtle draft that permeates to caress upon his heated skin as if it were a woman’s lips. As soon as that visual takes form, he curses himself for conjuring the very thing he’s been working hard to expel from his riddled brain all day.

He rolls his eye with self-directed discontent, proceeding to pull his eyepatch off just to chuck it with substantial force against a neighboring wall. Damnation. It becomes impossibly warmer with his body temperature rising from two day’s worth of repressed anger as he pulls the cord from his hair to let it fall loose.

He tries to make sense of it again, but his locks are damp and tangled from his extreme physical exertions. It bothers him enough to gather the mass and knot it up on this rare occasion - needing to have it completely off his neck and shoulders because its become a great nuisance. Fuck this Targaryen hair!

He just can’t be fucked, unbothered by his less than pristine appearance at the moment. Not that it matters, not that anybody is even with him to observe this raw and roughened physical state anyway.

He collapses in a nearby chair, huffing as he settles into it in a way that is bratty in nature. He could counter the notion however, chalking it up to an inherent need to blow off excess steam that’d recently accumulated within him - how it brims now, threatening to spill with indignation.

As he kicks off his boots, Aemond also resists the urge to return to his feet and find something valuable to break. There’s a frenzy in the way he’s ready to rip the hope he’s been harboring in vain from his chest to tear into shreds, cursing the abundance of his naivety. Mostly he’s just mad at himself, which is nothing new.

My shitty heart can get ripped out too…

In the anger of the moment, it feels infinite and he’s so tempted to just fuck it all and depart from King’s Landing tonight. Leave with Vhagar and disappear indefinitely. He has half a mind to do it in his current state, knowing how easy it would be to forgo family dinner and begin packing right away for the journey to the mountains.

It’s an attractive idea, but he’s too worked up to seriously entertain it at the moment. No - just impossible to consider when he’s wound so tight with disappointment and self-loathing as another realization hits him head-on.

He’s been taken for a fool, essentially ghosted. And he’s fucking offended! But what’s really sending him in a spiral and messing with his head is that he still wants Y/N.

…or that maybe will save me.

He’s mad over the untamed desire he still holds for such a wicked offender - the one primarily responsible for all his angst. But he wants the opportunity to lash out, punish her with his passion, and disrupt her world to the extent that it’ll leave her questioning her entire life. It’s delusional and cruel and he doesn’t care.

Feel what I feel and hurt the way I hurt. You’ve caused this.

Aemond gets caught up, head in his hands as he visualizes them together in an intimate way. And it’s dangerous how he imagines throwing her on his bed, rough in demeanor because it’s what he thinks she deserves after keeping him on the precipice between love and hate like a puppet master.

In his mind, he descends on her with an implied ownership of her body as his fingers learn her - every dip and outline, all the beauty marks and undiscovered places he intends to burn with his lips.

He sees himself doing this while ripping the clothes from her body, using his dagger if necessary to cut her out of her dress, ultimately forbidding her to hide behind her hands with modesty once bare before him.

The visual of this behind Aemond’s closed eye gets him bothered, aware of the strain on his tightening trousers as he touches his fingertips delicately against his lips, his own throat, and then to the prominent veins that surface his neck. He’s reminded of the subtle pressure from her lips against the spot below his ear - a place he touches now, too.

He recalls how whisper soft her touch had been, almost indiscernible when they’d held each other that night and he longs to feel that again. But more deeply now, with a desperation from her that she can’t deny and doesn’t try to hide. It’s killing him as he progresses his imagination, moving her naked body beneath his, writhing as she begs to be kissed by him while he pounds into her relentlessly.

Fuck! His entire body tingles with the wild thoughts and he acknowledges his body’s need for relief - all the parts of him that have been physically aching for too damn long. And this specific ache has reduced him to such a needy state that he actually thinks he might die if he never sees her again. It’s a devastating thought and he rejects it vehemently.

I will find you, no matter what. You belong with me.

But for now, he’s tired, high-strung, vaguely annoyed and impossibly turned on. There’s no getting around it when his dexterous hands skim down his abdomen to the opening of his trousers and then he’s releasing his manhood - so fucking hard within his own grasp as he begins stroking himself.

It’s self-gratifying, sensual and so natural, but he’s never felt this level of intensity before when getting himself off. It’s clear why, as the current situation develops - a fantasy formulating where his hand is actually hers.

It's so easy to do and then he’s taking off, as if she were real and before him, doing these things in real time.

When he licks his lips, he pretends it’s her doing it and when he’s biting his lower lip, his teeth become hers to capture and tease. So he bites harder and fucks himself off faster as his low moans begin to fill and circulate the room, breathless sounds the closer he gets.

He’s disintegrating, losing himself to the pleasure as his head falls back, long legs sprawled wide, sinking further into the chair. His abdomen is tight, muscles bunching and dancing in the flickering candle flames. But although it feels so damn good, there’s still a deep longing present - for his pouty lips have missed the opportunity to be truly kissed, and his lithe body continues to exist beyond the admiration of a real worshipful touch.

The loss is great and it’s killing him, knowing he deserves more than this as his heart starts to pound and evened breaths become harder to maintain. But still he goes on, taking what he can get and making the best of the situation.

And the best that he can do to get him over the edge is to imagine that the hand encircled around his cock is her mouth now, those full lips. He can see that gorgeous face when he shuts his eye tighter, concentrating on keeping the image sound as if his very life depended on it.

His grip is tortuous as he recalls her beloved face from memory. There you are, darling. She is perfection in his mind, her cheeks streaked with tears, an evident strain in her jaw as she maintains eye-contact and an open throat to take as much of him as possible.

She’s such a good girl, willingly accepting all the violence of his ardor. And he just goes on, fucking her mouth, choking her while his long fingers tangle into her hair, piling it away from her face so he doesn’t miss a one second of the pure unadulterated dragon love she’s consuming.

This is everything for Aemond, and he can’t stop, though on the off-chance that she’s not actually like this in reality, he’s not sorry. And if he’s inadvertently degrading her right now, knowing this type of intimacy isn’t for everyone, he just can’t find a fuck to give.

He’s gasping, going hard and fast with his pulls, ready to finish himself. Then he’s on the brink of coming, but in the scenario playing out in his mind, he can’t decide if he’d prefer releasing down her throat, giving her no choice but to consume his seed or somewhere else.

But then he recalls her tits, how good they’d looked in her dress and how he’d real-life love to see them bare, glistening with his cum because he’s obsessed and the kink is real.

Then he’s exploding.

look at me all the same, when i’ll be jester of violence and pity.

Aemond’s breath is still shaky several minutes later.

He’s made a mess, hard not to, but he doesn’t really care as he revels in the residual pleasure of his orgasm. His body feels better too, finally rid of so much of the building tension of the past few hours.

Passively he makes a mental note not to wait this long next time, but the reminder snaps him back to a reality where disappointment still lingers, working to settle its way into his marrow once again.

It forces him to cynically ponder if what he’s experiencing is how most lovers feel - as if they’re in a perpetual state of anxiety-induced anticipation, grappling with the fear of being let down. It all feels futile somehow, although he technically had self inflicted this specific course in allowing Y/N to hold the control, all of it.

Lesson learned.

This regret over a singular choice makes him feel… crazy, and it’s not a feeling that abandons him soon. In the water’s reflection of his bath later in the evening, he’d looked manic to himself - so much more than usual.

And that image had stayed with him into the late hours of the night, only yielding to sleep as he drifted off to a familiar void, the infinite sadness.

there's a falling bridge between my heart and your upside down world.

In the morning Aemond is slow to wake, his sleep overnight mostly fitful and garnering unrest.

Because of this, he stays in bed later than usual, not really wanting to face the day in any capacity. He knows he should get up though, at the least, in order to begin preparations for his upcoming departure. He wills his vision to focus and his abandoned energy to re-emerge, despite the darkness that remains by the drawn curtains.

He’s struggling to find a motivation as his room entices him to stay put, and he begins to entertain feigning illness should anybody come to call on him. It seems rational, as he’s not really in the mood to see anyone and he’ll be damned if the council expects his meeting attendance today for a review of closed trade routes and their current economic impact.

Count me out.

He’s aware that this behavior is a dangerous adoption - alluding to that of a renegade, and he’d be remiss to deny that the idea wasn’t alluring. But what he’s seeking is more of a temporary break, he thinks, at least to recollect himself, prioritize himself, feel…fucking human again.

I’m not a traitor looking to permanently detach from my duties.

He stares at the ceiling, seeing nothing as he waits for his vision to cloud again. Once achieved, he closes his eye, willing his mind to follow suit - hoping to recapture the solitude of nothingness for a bit longer. However, just as he feels he’s reached the threshold of that mental grey area, ready to enter back into it, an abrupt knock on his door forces him to full consciousness.

But before he can formulate a response for his caller, intending to turn them away, the door opens and to his surprise, its Helaena who rushes in. She’s a welcomed sight, for Aemond adores his sister, but her distressed energy puts him on alert immediately.

He rises to meet her at the edge of his bed, waiting as she makes her way to him in haste. When she sits next to Aemond, her face is marred with worry, regretful and sad - it’s concerning the way it all transfers to him when she places a gentle hand on his arm without a word.

“Dearest brother”, she begins woefully, “this note has been withheld from you for two days past.”

She’s upset and it’s even more palpable when she places a crumbled piece of parchment in his hands before continuing.

“Please forgive me for just discovering it amongst the devils. I came to you as soon as I could.”

Aemond experiences a spectrum of emotions, but at the forefront is both disbelief and relief. But there is anger too, as the initial confusion clarifies and he begins to understand that someone has intentionally intercepted and prevented the delivery of this letter intended for him.

It’s the very thing he’s been waiting for, the very same that’s kept him paralyzed and resentful, sickened with uncertainty. He’d been melancholic, convinced so soon that nothing and nobody was coming for him and he’d been ready to leave.

I was so wrong.

It’s a callous move that’s been played on him, enough to reinstate a new type of rage towards the one so obviously responsible for this. Actually it could be a combination of transgressors or all the entitled fucks that collectively sit on the council and think they control the world from a table.

In his bones though, Aemond feels it’s Aegon and The Hand who are responsible for this offense. But confrontation, even retribution is not priority. It matters naught in light of what he’s just received, indebted to his sister as he draws her in wordlessly to kiss her forehead with reverence.

Unshed tears collect, burning at his eye as his surroundings become a kaleidoscope of images across his distorted vision. And he’s ever-grateful to have the purity of Helaena in his life - how she’s always been a protector and champion of his heart, offering her unique gift of foresight and an abundance of unwavering love.

“This note becomes your destiny, Aemond. The love within it is real and it will not fail you.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he longs to swallow, forcing it down in order to breathe deep again, but there’s no air left as he tries to comprehend his sister’s departing words several minutes later.

He perceives himself as floating outside his body when he begins unfolding the note within the privacy of his domain, alone once more. His fingers tremble, uncontrolled as the powerful combination of adrenaline, anticipation and elation begin to course.

What he feels is inexplicable when he reads the words his love has written to him, beautiful words meant for him. He reads them again and again, allowing the truth to sink in. Without a doubt, he knows now that they are inevitable.

‘No pretenses, no games. I want you, only you - forever. We belong together.’

@a-beaverhausen @boofy1998 @caramelcandescence @wanderingcl0ud

[all-about-kyu]

Pairing: Jaemin x fem!reader

Genre: Smut Rating: R 18+

Summary: Jaemin didn’t know who was on the other side of this hole… he didn’t care much, he’ll pretend that it was you though.

Warnings: mostly from Jaemin’s pov, language Smut Warnings: public sex, lingerie, glory hole, dirty talk, unprotected sex Word Count: 425

for day 4 of the @neohub​ kinktober event || my kinktober masterlist

Jaemin had heard stories about the infamous glory hole in the bathroom of the idol club he’s currently in. No one ever figures out which woman or women are on the other side of that hole. Frankly, though, he was far too horny and in the middle of a dry spout to care who was on the other side. He briskly makes his way across the club, barely even stopping to talk to his other idol friends on the way to that stall. That’s when a specific someone stops in his path.

“Hi, Jaemin,” you beam, “I thought you weren’t coming out tonight?”

“I, um, I wasn’t planning on it but Jeno’s around here and dragged me out.”

It was a half-truth, Jeno had asked him if he wanted to go out. The slightly older male didn’t drag him out though, Jaemin knew what he was getting into tonight. Jeno had left much earlier with some idol he decided he wanted to hook up with.

“Oh, well, you seem a little distracted. I was on my way out, it was nice to see you.” you smile sweetly.

“Yeah, you too.” he smiles back.

The moment you walk away he starts his trek back to the bathroom where that glory hole is. He doesn’t know who he’s nudging out of the way or if anyone is trying to talk to him, all he knows is that if he doesn’t get to that hole soon he might explode. He’s had the biggest crush on you for a long while and seeing you, especially how you were dressed tonight, did not help his horny state. He practically breaks the door open when he gets to the restroom and lets out a sigh of relief seeing that no one is already in the stall. He walks over with an air of confidence and promptly locks the door behind him.

He looks down to see the hole, and a pair of scarlet red lace panties on display just on the other side of it. He lets out a shaky breath and kneels down. Reaching out two fingers he runs them over the lace watching how the woman on the other side starts twitching at the contact.

“You weren’t expecting someone? Didn’t you hear the stall door shut just a moment ago?” he teases, he knows she won’t respond but it’s fun anyway, “Pretty panties you have on tonight, let me just move them to the side to see your pussy.”

He hooks his finger around the edge of the lace and tugs it to the side. A string of arousal clings from the fabric to where it leaks from her core. There wasn’t a thought in Jaemin’s brain other than to be inside her within the next few seconds. He quickly scrambles to unzip his pants and release his member from the fabric that holds it. He quickly mumbles out that he’s going to fuck her and pushes in immediately. They both gasp at the feeling and Jaemin moans out your name.

That’s when you clench around him while at the same time your blood turns cold. He couldn’t possibly know it was you on the other side of the hole. There was nothing to indicate that it was you. Still, he fucks you good and you don’t question if he really knows that it’s you that he’s fucking while in his mind you’re his fantasy too.

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @neohub​ @neowritingsnet​ @kdiarynet​ @nct-writers​ @kwritersworld​ @k-vanity​

Tag List: @brattybunfornct​ @notbeforelong​ @n0hyuck​ @spiderrenjunfics​ @umbralhelwolf​ @ericssmile​

[mknight0000]

Cross-Dimensional Answers Prologue-Ch 1 (Last Legacy)

A/N: AAAAA I cannot believe this is happening!! So I am writing the events of LL from the perspective of my MC. Hopefully, you’ll get to know her as the story progresses and maybe grow to like her! Before we get started, I wanted to make a few things clear. 

I do want to preface that I am not the creator of LL (obviously). I am taking the story of LL and making just a few adjustments and additions here and there (for example: the setting of the expo). This is from the perspective of how i feel my MC experienced this story and if your interpretation of the events is different then that is totally okay! We all love and experience these routes differently so one interpretation does not discredit another. With the routes being on indefinite hiatus, when I get closer to the current state of the story, I will be taking some creative liberties on how the rest of the story folds out. This is not a story that will completely follow the events laid out for us, but a way for me to finish the story so I can have some sense of closure. Also there may be some instances that I may not fully know how things operate. I will try my best to do research and information digging, but I may have to make some guesses (ex. How a check in at a con works seeing as I’ve sadly never been to one) so you’ve been warned. 

 Listed below are the creators of LL. They worked so hard on the world and I want everyone to show them some love for it. I put a link to the LL carrd as well so that you can check out everyone’s socials (so many talented writers and artists worked very hard on this story so please go support them!). 

I do want to warn you that I am a beginner writer. I’ve only every written fictional stories for a few school assignments and for an application, so all the work I've done has been seen by very little people. If you have any constructive criticism, it is much appreciated, HOWEVER please do not send hate. It does not help anyone out, and if anything it hurts more then it helps so if you have any suggestions, feel free to DM me. 

With that very long A/N done and out of the way (don’t worry it won’t be like this in the next installments), let's get this party started!!

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-Word Count: 2,428

-Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Food, Probably poor grammar (I try to proof read but my mind jumps a lot sooooo), 

-Creators: Dev (creator and writer), Ciel (sprites, cgs, illustrations), Hika (bgs, illustrations, gfx), Lulu (writer), and Grace (writer) 

-Carrd Link

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“Are you sure that you have everything packed for your first day? Your lunch and backpack are already packed, right? Do you have your supplies ready?” I ask hastily into my phone, briskly walking out of my hotel toward the convention center in hopes of being early. 

“Yes, yes i do, you don’t need to- hmph!” the voice on the other side exclaims suddenly. A crash sounds in the background, “Shit!”

I stop suddenly, concern lacing my voice, “Are you okay Tim? What happened?”

I hear a laugh come from the other side, after which I exhale a breath of relief.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just tripped over my backpack is all, and I’ll be fine today,” Tim says as I hear the rustling of fabric, most likely putting on his school uniform jacket, “there’s no need to worry.” 

I quietly laugh and a small smile adorns my face, warmed by the thought of my caring brother as I continue my walk toward the convention center. As I get closer, I spot signs and billboards posted around the city of Orlando, advertising the event, indicating that I am getting closer to my destination.

“You know it’s my job to worry about you, right? I’d be a pretty bad caretaker if I didn’t. I mean it’s not every day that you start your Junior year!” I say into my phone, laughing slightly towards to end of my words knowing what his following reaction will be.  

“Yeah, totally, the thought of taking the SAT this year is soooo thrilling,” Tim says back, a smile hinted in his voice though his tone is of complete loathing, “Cannot wait to spend restless nights studying for probably one of the most important exams of my life, definitely no pressure.”

He is about to say something else when I hear another voice on the other end of the call.

“Is that Meg on the phone? Let me talk to her,” I hear a voice call from the other end.

“Ugh, hold on! Let me say goodbye to her before you steal my phone out of my hands!” Tim exclaims, frustration coating his words, “Well, Andy will probably hang up before giving the phone back so I hope you have a good time at the expo.”

“Thanks, Tim. Have a good first day. I know this’ll be your year, I can feel it. Just try to talk to some new people today, okay?”

A brief moment of silence comes from the other end.

“...Yeah okay,” he responds, hesitation clear in his voice, “I’ll call you when school gets out, alright? I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Here’s Andy.”

I decide to stop and stand off to the side as silence fills the call, hearing the phone being transferred from Tim to my other brother.

“How is my wonderful sister doing this beautiful morning?” Andrew asks in a honeyed voice. I stand there, squinting my eyes, suspicion clear on my face.

“What do you need Andy?” I ask smirking, knowing that tone all too well.

“What?? I can’t ask how my talented, beautiful sister is doing this fine morning?”

I don’t even bother to respond.

“...Huh, I can never get anything past you, can I?”

“No, no you cannot,” I laugh.

Andrew laughs into the phone along with me.

“Well then, is there any chance that I can steal some of your muffins from your apartment? They’re the really tasty ones that I love and I can totally pay you back when you return,” asks Andrew.

I raise my eyebrow, “You promise to pay me back? Last time you said that it took you six months to repay me and you only did so because your own husband had to threaten you,” I state.

“Yes, yes I promise!” He pleads, “I’ll even pinky-promise if that helps!”

I laugh, “No, it's fine, you can take some.”

“Thanks, little sis-”

“We’ve had this discussion before, I’m not your little sis!” I exclaim into the phone, a couple sitting at a café table near me looking pointedly at me. I give them a shrug and mouth “sorry” to them.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Being older by 10 minutes does not count.”

“Yes it does,” he says with a smirk knowing he won the discussion, “Anyways, like Tim said, please try not to worry about us during the expo. I know it’s been a while since you’ve had time for just yourself so just please enjoy your time there, you deserve this,” he says in a gentle tone. 

“I will, thanks,” I say, grateful for my brothers’ concerns.

“Make sure to get some sweet pics of you in front of the expo with your cosplay, oh! and don’t forget the gift for Seb’s birthday, you know how much he loves those Reynold guitars. He’ll definitely freak out when he sees its from the OG shop” Andrew said excitedly.

“Will do. Also, you’re still picking me up Friday evening, right?”

“Yep! Meet you at the guest gate?”

“No, on the flight line–yes at the guest gate,” I laugh into the phone. “I’ll call you when I take a break for lunch, love you, Andy.”

“Love you, Meg, have fun, bye!”

“Will do, bye.”

I end the call and I put my phone back into my backpack. I look in the window in front of me to check over my cosplay before I step into the check-in line. My brown hair is pulled into a mid-ponytail with some strands hanging out of the front for style and is adorned with a crystal flower clip. Realistically wearing a ponytail in an actual fight wouldn’t end well but hey, I look cute so what the hell. I have on a white, dramatic, peter-pan collared blouse with adorable poufy sleeves that Lizzie let me borrow for the expo, which is paired with black trousers tucked into black combat boots. Styled with the blouse is a lightly boned, black stay that is tied up in the front. The outfit itself is pretty plain, however, the gems of the outfit include my handmade cloak and the faux sword hanging from my hip. The cloak, a deep, thick, navy blue fabric, layered with a sheet of moon and star embroidered lace on top, is secured in by gold trimmed edges surrounding the collar of the cape. On the back, there is a large, embroidered, golden Starsworn logo. The cloak, alongside my handmade worbla foam sword, was the most expensive and time-consuming part of the outfit. It took many sleepless nights and breaks during my work shifts to complete them. However, paired with the simple clothing choices, my outfit perfectly exhibits design aspects of the leaked art from the latest installment to the ultimate franchise, Last Legacy II: Ex Nihilo.

After my cosplay check-over, I put on the badge that I received in the mail a few weeks prior, and walk into the appropriate line outside the expo hall under a large, tan canopy leading to the entrance of the hall, shielding guests from the Flordia sun. Hanging from the canopy reads a sign: Welcome to FanExpo FantasyCon.  

I can’t believe it. I haven’t felt this excited in…years. 9 long, strenuous, exhausting years to be exact. It still feels like yesterday when I was neck deep in blankets on my bed, trying to distract myself from the collapsing world around me, when I stumbled across that review.

Despite its huge popularity, no one else in my friend group, other than Sebastian, really got into it, so the game has always been a little personal to me and allowed me to become distracted when I needed it the most.

I put my backpack down on the table once I get up to the security station so it can be checked, get my badge scanned, and walk through the metal detector to collect my bag on the other side and from there I enter into the hall.

As I walk in, I notice some familiar art from the previous Last Legacy game posted on the surrounding walls of a hallway. Smells of various food booths are posted at the other side of the expo hall, filling the very large room, and chatter from employees and guests alike echo throughout the area, creating an exciting buzz. Booths hawking various crafts are set up everywhere in the hall, from artists selling prints to various coding businesses and software developing systems advertising their companies. To my left, there is an entrance to a theatre-like room where i assume the main panel for today will be held later on.

Looking around, a a bright, wide smile adorns my face, and for the first time in a long time, pure joy fills my body. I was a little skeptical about coming to the expo when they announced it and released the ticket sales. Today is, after all, the first day of Tim’s new school year, and I haven’t been on a trip like this since before becoming Tim’s legal guardian five years ago, but after some convincing from everyone, Andy and James promising to look after him the next three days, and working extra hours to afford the tickets for access to the Mike Morrigan signing and costume costs, I went forward with buying the tickets. 

This was definitely worth it, I think to myself.

Before I explore the main hall, I decide to walk down the hallway filled with panels of art from various franchises. Various scenes and characters are depicted from floor to ceiling. Some of the art is the official art from franchises, whilst other wall panels consist of concept art and art made by other artists, all done by talented individuals.

As I’m walking down the hallway a familiar voice behind me catches my attention. 

“Wow! Your cosplay is amazing!”

I turn to see Celena, an incredibly talented cosplayer staring right in my direction with her deep magenta eyes (most likely from contacts). Her short, platinum white hair is adorned with an adorable bunny ear headband, which matches perfectly with her light purple dress topped with little bows in the front and a big bow in the back on top of her faux-bunny poof tail. She looks straight from the game itself, making it one of the reasons why she is my favorite cosplayer of all time. 

Emotionally and mentally, I’m screaming. 

And somehow, in some way, I am able to respond (almost) calmly and (almost) normally. 

“Oh my god, thank you so much! Yours is amazing as well! I mean your dress is to die for! Do you mind if I get a picture with you?” I ask, overthinking each word as it comes out of my mouth. 

“Of course! What’s your name?”

“Megan”

“Well nice to meet you, Megan,” she says with a smile, “And what job class are you?”

“I am a Starsworn Swordmaster,” I say, gesturing at the sword I have on my hip as we move closer to get both into frame. 

I hold up my phone and take a selfie of the two of us smiling, her holding up a peace sign. After the camera clicks, I put my phone back into my bag, and when I turn back to her, she is looking at the art on the wall behind me, causing me to turn to see what grabbed her attention, in turn seizing mine.

Before me stands two familiar characters from the first Last Legacy game: Magister Escell Mirun, on the left, and Ayanna Anka, on the right. Though most of the internet is enthralled and obsessed with him, I’m not particularly a fan of the Battlemage and his cliché vain, and scheming personality. On the poster, Escell’s long purply-black hair is tied into a loose, low ponytail and it, along with his blue and green uniform with gold, accents, flows in the breeze as he stretches his pale hand outwards, imitating a spell being cast. On the right, the clever and cunning Engineer, Ayanna, stands facing away from the photo but looking back over her shoulder with her sharp, yellow cat-like eyes and iconic smirk. Her hair, put up into various thin braids, and ends highlighted in purple, lays below her large, poufy cat ears and her brown and gold-lined goggles. Her Ilpheta marks adorn her face on top of her dark brown skin, and her brown and tan striped tail curls upward. Though I love Ayanna’s character, I can’t help but question the developer’s choice in costuming, but nonetheless, I adore her.

I laugh to myself, remembering a past night during Freshman year in college when Sebastian and I discussed…funny ideas surrounding Last Legacy’s characters. 

I decide to let Celena in on one of our comments, turning around, asking, “Hey don’t you think Escell would look amazing in a chainmail bikini-” I stop abruptly. 

I look around and realize that I am now alone.

That’s weird, I could’ve sworn this hallway was packed with people a couple of seconds ago. 

Not only am I alone, but the chatter from the main hall is gone as well. 

“Hello? Celena? Anyone?” I call out. 

No answer. 

My breathing starts to become heavier, and I feel myself becoming colder, a clear sign of my nervousness and fear starting to show. Panic rises in my chest. The same feelings I had that night nine years ago start up.

What the hell? What the hell? What the- No don’t panic, Megan. Just- Just stay calm, maybe everyone is in the theatre for the panel? Or–

My thoughts are interrupted when a small thud sounds from in front of me. A long, multi-chrome staff rolls my way, pushed by seemingly nothing. The staff is adorned by gold accents and dangles, with a glowing crystal perched at the top, encased by gold circles, crossing over each other.

“Woah…is that…the Astrolabe?” I ask myself. 

The legendary relic lies before me while I try to understand my current situation. With the amount of detail this prop has, there is no way this is anyone’s ordinary cosplay prop. 

I look around to see if there is any clear indication of who it belongs to but no one seems to step forwards to claim it. 

With the intent to return this to whoever dropped it, I take a few steps forward, toward the staff, and reach down to pick it up. Once my fingers touch the cool, metal base of the shaft, light protrudes from the crystal laid in the center, and white light fills my vision. I try to move my hand back but clearly, it is too late. 

The hall and all the sense associated with it disappear from me and are replaced by small, shimmering balls of light. And then nothingness swallows me whole.

And then nothingness swallows me whole.

to be continued...

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Edit: Changed a few things for flow and some minor spell check

AAAAAAAAA I cannot believe this, this is so insane. This is the first time I've ever posted my writing!!! AAAAAA

[tardexlanoche]

Well, this won’t leave my mind and it turns out that in order to create an AO3 account i have to wait for an invitation, so meanwhile i’m gonna give this abandoned acc an use and update this here just so i have accountability for it. i’ve never published anything in here so i hope i don’t mess this up.

Enjoy!

——————

It’s her first day of class, and she’s already late.

“Excuse me, ma’am, could you help me? I need to find the lecture hall where Dr. Myriad is giving the International Law master’s introduction, but it doesn’t say where we’re supposed to go in the schedule,” Kate begs, practically shoving her phone on the poor woman’s face, “I’m really late, I can’t keep wandering around”.

The clerk adjusts her glasses further up her nose and squints at the screen, “Oh dear, that lecture is to be given in the Aularium, see?” She zooms in a small red footnote at the corner of the document, where it clearly states that all the master’s classes will indeed take place in the Central Aularium.

The Central Aularium, which happens to be at about fifteen minutes away – running - from Law School, where she is currently standing.

It’s her first day of class and she’s already late. And nowhere near to where she is supposed to be.

Kate takes off so quickly she almost forgets her phone, barely shouting a “Thanks!” above her shoulder.

She’s close to the building when she sees a big ass sign with blue, bold letters welcoming the new I.L. master’s students, clearly indicating where her lecture is scheduled.

Yeah, great help now. Assholes.

“Wait!” someone yells behind her, making her stop and turn around. A guy around seemingly around her age is running after her almost out of breath. She wonders if she dropped something on her way here, checking her pockets frantically for her phone.

“You’re also late to Myriad’s introduction, right? I overheard you back there,” says the boy now stopping in front of her, a little out of breath, “We’re classmates. Name’s Peter,” he says extending a hand.

Kate shakes it hurriedly, giving him a small smile, “Kate. Nice to meet you, Peter. Ready to be -” she stops to check her watch “twenty-two minutes late on our first day?”

“It’s totally my thing.”

She pushes the door with so much force she worries for a minute about denting the wall with it. Mom would love to hear about that, she thinks fleetly to herself, focusing now on finding a way to enter the classroom as discreetly as possible.

“Okay, any ideas?” whispers Peter to her right from where he is peeking through the window. The professor is already writing on the board, the rest of their classmates taking notes or tipping away on their computers.

She thinks of the feel of eyes on her, the burning sensation in her cheeks when she is the center of attention, and curses herself. Shit.

“Yes, I say we confidently leave now and just come to the next class,” Kate answers pitifully, but before she has time to turn around a lithe body crashes into her.

“Ow, sorry” a sweet, high-pitched voice apologizes while Kate takes a couple of steps back, adding distance between her and her aggressor. It just turns out to be a very cute, redhead aggressor.

“Fuck me, the class has already started?”

A very cute, redhead aggressor with a very cute accent who also happens to be late.

“Yeah, welcome to the club,” answers Peter in camaraderie, “I’m Peter, and the one you just pushed into the wall is Kate,” he says pointing at her. The mention of her name makes her blink, and she forces herself to get her shit together. Stop being a fucking mess when there’s a pretty girl around, Bishop, she berates to herself. She lifts her hand and gives what she hopes is a welcoming smile to the girl, who thankfully looks just as flustered as Kate feels.

“Oh god, yes. Sorry about that, I was so worried about making a fool of myself in front of our class that I didn’t even see you” she says sheepishly, “I’m Wanda, and I guess I’m now a member of your late club.”

“Cool, at least we get to know each other before we’re thrown in there” replies Peter tilting his head to the closed door behind them.

“Nice to meet you, Wanda,” finally, her brain seems to regain its normal functioning, “I was just telling Peter we should ditch introduction and come later to our first class, what do you say?”

“Introductions are always just nonsense talk, anyways. We can just ask someone later if Myriad said something relevant,” Peter joins her cause, and she can already tell they’ll get along fine alright.

Wanda bites her lip casting a glance through the door’s window, but the corners of her mouth turn up in a second, “Well… My best friend’s inside, so I guess I can pass whatever notes she takes to you guys. We’re already more than half an hour late, anyways.”

“Awesome,” Peter does a kind of lame kind of cute fist pump in the air and links both his arms through theirs, “Let’s go then, ladies!”

They end up sitting on some stairs drinking black, sour coffee from a machine, but it’s nice. She fins out Peter studied law in New York, too, just a couple of years ahead of her, and that Wanda came to the U.S. as a refugee from Sokovia, went to a community college, and was so amazingly bright she was awarded a scholarship here. The conversation flows naturally with Peter’s energy and Kate’s blabbermouth tendencies, and though Wanda seems to be more on the introverted spectrum, she holds her own.

Despite what her open and friendly behavior may make it seem, Kate hasn’t always had the easiest of times making friends since she left school. There, everybody knew each other since practically kindergarten, but once she got to high school things started getting kinda hard for her.

So right now, Kate feels kind of glad she didn’t see those stupid red letters on the schedule.

———

“Okay, let’s get moving girls. We don’t want to be late again,” Peter says after checking his phone and adjusting his backpack, helping both of them to stand up.

As they approach the classroom again, Wanda seems to get a bit worried, “Do you guys think we’ll get in trouble for skipping introduction?”

“I hope not, I didn’t even know there would be one.”

The three of them turn to the source of the voice, a girl around their age sitting on the floor, legs crossed in front of her and back to the wall. She seems to be fighting with her hair, curly brunette strands escaping her attempt at a ponytail. Kate may not have exactly the same curls, but she totally can relate to the frustrated huff their new companion makes before giving up.

“Well, we did and we missed it anyways,” Kate shrugs, and remembering her manners adds, “My name’s Kate. They are Wanda and Peter.”

“M.J.”

“Nice to meet you, M.J.,” Wanda shakes her hand and wiggles her fingers with a cute smile scrunching her nose, now seemingly more relaxed seeing yet another classmate missing their first period. Power in numbers and all that, Kate guesses, “I’ll ask my friend if there’s anything we need to know, and I’ll let you know.”

“Cool, Wanda. Thanks,” says M.J. standing up, offering a hand up for the redhead to high-five.

Kate watches the exchange smiling and shaking her head, turning her head to share a wasn’t that cute look with Peter when she suddenly sees the boy almost petrified next to her. His eyes - fixated on their new friend - almost bulge out of their orbits, his hands firm around the straps of his backpack, knuckles white with force. His words seem to have abandoned him, as she now realizes he hasn’t spoken since they introduced themselves, not even to say hi.

Needless to say, Kate takes this great opportunity to mess with her classmate, “If you keep looking she will notice your little… problem,” she whispers next to his ear, pointing subtly to his pants.

That seems to snap him out of his trance, quickly letting go of the backpack to cover his groin on instinct only to realize a second later that it didn’t get to be that kind of obvious. He punches her on the arm, “Fuck you, Kate. Not funny,” but even then, he can’t help but let a nervous laugh go.

The other two girls stop their conversation probably to see what they are bickering about, but just then the classroom door opens and students start getting out. The four of them nod at each other and Wanda, unsurprisingly, ends up being the bravest one entering first.

It ends up not being a great deal at all. Their professor barely castes them a glance as they go through the door, more focused on turning the class projector on.

“Well, totally a good decision getting that coffee,” nods Kate with a self-satisfied smile. Peter claps her shoulder and Wanda winks at her, and all the dread that she had been feeling these past days about starting anew in this city has now melted away giving pass to a giddy happiness. She’s managed to score two almost friends in just the first hour without making a fool of herself, yay her.

“Hey, my friend’s over there. Let’s go sit with her, see what they talked about,” Wanda points to the fourth row, left corner, and Kate loses her breath a bit.

See, she has met tons of pretty women in her life, she has even had the chance to be with some of them, but this girl… She might quite certainly be the most beautiful woman Kate has ever seen.

Her blonde hair hangs down her side in a perfect braid, some loose strands of hair framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. Bold, pink plump lips pursed as she mindlessly scrolls through her phone, chin resting on one hand as if she were posing, her high cheekbones resembling those of a renaissance painting. She has an untouchable aura around her, like she is not interested at all in what’s happening around her, like she’s actually gracing them with her presence there.

She totally is, though.

And when she looks up, Kate swears those big green eyes steal all the light in the room.

For a second she worries this magnificent stranger is looking at her - because with this creepy staring she has going on, she as well might - but luckily her eyes trail after Wanda, clearly happy to see her friend as the first sign of emotion crosses her face.

And oh god, she has dimples when she smiles.

A chuckle to her right snaps her out of her admiration, “Well, who would be in deep trouble now if she was a dude?” breathes lowly Peter, mockingly hiding his mouth behind his cupped hand. The burning cheeks Kate was worrying about earlier come with vengeance, worsening when her classmate starts almost choking on his laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Great comeback, Romeo. Glad to see blondie over there didn’t steal your tongue,” and with that, Kate does give him a good deserved shove. It only makes him laugh more, but well. At least now she has something else to focus on.

“Come on, Kate. Let’s find out the name of our new friend,” and if it weren’t for his arm around her shoulders, Kate is pretty sure she would have spent the rest of the day firmly planted on the second stair, not moving one bit. The predicament of having to talk to this girl seems quite terrifying.

When they make it to the fourth row, Wanda is already talking to the girl, M.J. next to them listening politely. And with Peter’s not subtle at all throat clearing, the three girls turn their heads to them.

Wanda smiles and places a delicate hand on her friend’s arm to get her attention, “And those are Peter and Kate, my other late-to-class club mates,” she says pointing at them.

Peter lifts his hand and salutes the girls, and Kate would totally make fun of him if she could concentrate on something else than not tripping over her own feet while standing still. She manages what she hopes comes out as a friendly smile and a curt hi, before Wanda officially introduces her, “Guys, this is my friend, first-class-atendant and savior, -”

“Yelena. Nice to meet you. And don’t worry, you didn’t miss much.”

Okay, Kate was not expecting that voice at all. A deep, rich tone - can a voice remind you of chocolate?- also subtly marked with a foreign accent. She wonders if perhaps she and Wanda are actually from the same place. Is that how they meet? And is she also the same age as Wanda? How is she not working as a model somewhere? Does she like chocolate? What’s her favorite kind of music?

Questions start pilling out on her head, and she has to bite her tongue to keep her mouth shut. She wants to know more about this girl, but it would be cool if she could, you know, not scare her off the first time they meet. So she just nods to the girl - who stopped looking her way a few seconds ago already - and sits down next to Peter, who just cocks an eyebrow up at her but abstains from teasing her further.

Yelena.

She mouths it quietly to herself, just to see how it feels in her tongue.

Yelena.

Kate has a feeling that name is going to be etched on her memory for a really, really long time.

[majicmarker]

omg pls share ur other thoughts on chrissy’s tarot cards!! i loved that chapter it was so good 😭🥺💕✨

first of all, thank you so much!!!  🥰 🥰 cher willing, i'll have the next part up within the next few days!

(second of all, here's the fic in question for anyone who happens upon this)

THIRD OF ALL, onto the tarot reading i chose for chrissy (under the cut bc i get Very enthusiastic abt emotions so surely this explanation is going to get away from me):

most of her cards—whether the casually mentioned ones or her actual reading—are major arcana. again, as i state in the fic, these tend to speak to turning points in your life. and that's what i like to explore with chrissy, is this shift in how she feels about/treats herself, and how that positively affects the trajectory of her life.

her minor arcana cards indicate a person (eddie, in this case, for the ROMANCE), because with any romantic dynamic i write, i like to explore the effect they have on each other not just in their relationship, but as individuals. because, yk, whether we like it or not, for better or worse, we're all affected and shaped by the people in our lives. and personally when i do readings for ppl, i dig into the positive takeaways, bc otherwise i just don't see the point, plus this fic is first and foremost a romance, so that's the direction i went in here.

(man look at all those commas, run-on sentences my beloved)

SO ANYWAY.

the cards she happens to notice but aren't in her actual reading are the star, the devil, and the two of cups. they're similar-but-not-similar to her actual reading:

the star is generally pretty positive whether upright or reverse. essentially it speaks to your readiness for Full Self-Acceptance, Your Destiny, Your Soulmate, all that. (it's also my favorite and i'll name-drop it every chance i get. it's just. so affirming and romantic and a lot of things that i want for myself, and i think it's such an all-encompassing card for anyone who leans into the archetype of the romantic.)

the devil, in this case, would take its meaning from its reversed position: moving on from trauma or otherwise negative forces in your life. (i have. Very strong feelings about this card for chrissy's character overall, particularly in her relationship with her mom, the themes of which i'll explore more in-depth in my soon-to-be-posted multichapter.) ((it's also a super interesting card for eddie's character which, again, i'll probably dig a little deeper into in the multichap.))

the two of cups is one of the most positive cards for romance. it speaks to that sort of self-actualizing power achieved in a healthy relationship, the give-and-take, and foretells a deep bond that serves you as a couple and as individuals

now, as for her actual reading, i wanted to go as simple as possible for the sake of writing that scene concisely, without *too* much exposition that would make the dialogue unnatural (such a pet peeve for me), all that, so i went with a three-card.

there are. like. a thousand spreads out there. but generally (or the way i do it, anyway) three cards indicate a current issue, past influences, and what to do/future outcome. you really have to examine each card individually as well as how they play together.

for chrissy, we have:

the moon: pretty straightforward the way i wrote it in the fic. reversed means that your search for clarity, reason, whatever, will come to fruition so long as you keep honest with yourself and follow your heart. (it also encourages the strength/healing we find in female friendships, which is something that will become more prevalent in the next chapter.)

the hierophant: upright it means that you find comfort and a sense of self within tradition, in finding your people and building those traditions and community with them. reversed, as it is in chrissy's reading, it means you'll find those things when you ditch external expectations. in chrissy's case, i wanted it to indicate that she should keep the parts of herself that she genuinely likes, but that she can also find that authenticity by letting herself want things for herself, rather than only strictly doing what's expected of her.

the knight of cups: listen i usually hate person cards bc they can be tricky to suss out when i'm doing a reading for someone, but in this case it slaps. it speaks to chrissy's need for emotional support and just pure, i-like-you-because-you're-you adoration. personally i think we see that very much so in the canon forest scene, when eddie can Tell something's up and he does his best to, for all intents and purposes, be chrissy's knight in ripped jeans armor. he gives her the space to feel calm, because he's real with her—not in some bullshit tough love kind of way, but in this way where he's just like, "this is me being myself, you can be yourself, too." and, yk, even though i write no-upside-down aus, it's the ~essence~ of their relationship i want to dig into.

^ i also think the knight of cups really represents what chrissy Needs, and it's who eddie actually Is (whether blatantly or under the surface, depending on your take on him), so—much like the devil, funnily enough—this card works for them on a few levels.

......okay this took me perhaps an embarrassingly long time to whip up, so *sign of the cross, bc i was raised catholic and there's no gettin out* fingers crossed for an interesting read, but i'm gonna peace out now ✌️

[xxgothchatonxx]

Here’s my revised/summarised version of my “sex appeal of Dracula” post I made last night when I was half-falling asleep, which certainly explains a lot 😂

Ok, book!Dracula is not sexy. He’s not intended to be sexy, nothing he does in the book is sexy; he’s a horrifying monster and also pretty pathetic and stupid.

But film!Dracula- actually, technically he started out looking like a typical monster with Nosferatu (the unofficial first Dracula film) but then developed into being the suave sexy gentleman with Bela Lugosi in 1931. Which he actually started earlier when he played Dracula on-stage. He was still the villain but when you cast someone as charismatic as Lugosi, the villain’s going to become sexy.  

So, I have stated that I don’t find a lot of “sexy Draculas” that sexy but I’ve come to realise that it’s mainly some 21st century attempts. Even with Gary Oldman, the writing drives me insane but acting-wise, yeah he is sexy! But I do find it interesting to look back on the history of Dracula in film and television to see what context those adaptations were made in, because that’s a pretty good indicator of what made, or was supposed to make, him sexy. 

To summarise, after the 1970s, when a little novel called Interview with the Vampire was published, vampires went from being horrifying seductive monsters to sympathetic antiheroes. And that’s how we got Frank Langella, Gary Oldman, Gerard Butler (oh Gerard..), Jonathan Rhys- next! (to clarify - I do think he is a really good actor but it is obvious that they cast him because he was hot, not because of his acting chops!), and Luke Evans (oh Luke)

A couple of years ago we had Claes Bang and next year we’re getting Nicolas Cage so my guess is the current state of “sexy Dracula” (what can I say? That hungover Goth God look is really doing it for me) is feral, unhinged dad-jokers... I’m so proud of how we’ve progressed 😂

[svchengss]

two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.