#Ive had it half written in drafts for a while…

[starswirly]

PLEASE RAMBLE ABOUT SAUCER I NEED TO KNOW WHATEVER YOU CAN GIVE ME (I know pretty much nothing??? tell me????)

[ * Rubs my grubby little paws together. Ehehe. ]

[ * ULTIMATE SAUCER OVERVIEW? ]

[ * Ahem. Saucer is, in short, an oc who was created for pretty much the sole purpose of interacting with the Dreamtale twins. Mostly Nightmare. Because I’m a sucker for childhood friends to lovers, they became an oc from Dreamtale. Now this brought up questions— what was it like living there? Where did they come from, what was their life like? The elaborating on which eventually lead to me nicknaming this personal variation of the au Somniafable! ]

[ * I DO want to make some written and/or drawn story for their world at some point so I don’t want to give EVERYTHING away… ]

[ * Essentially, the pest who showed up and continuously bugs everyone they meet until they grow on them and are wanted around. The benefits of keeping them around includes: a healer for your party, guy who will get high things off of tall shelves, accomplice to all petty crimes, emotional support, etc etc etc ]

[ * Uhhhh tidbits tidbits…. They’re technically a runaway as a kid, they’ve debated many times whether them chopping wood counts as murder, they have very high HP and DEF which is helpful for their healing magic but causes them to have a relatively low ATK, they’ve repeatedly said that they would fight people to defend others (and once or twice gone through with it) even if they could do. Pretty much no damage. Saucer HATES change most of the time and is a major homebody, picked up embroidery and has knowledge in sewing both to help practice with needles, they’re based on the Saucer Magnolia tree and used to follow the pattern of flowering in the spring and loosing their leaves in the fall but no longer do that after the events of Somniafable’s Apple Incident. ]

[platinumshawnn]

Bound by Blood and Fire | Benjicot Blackwood x OC!Tully — pt iv

masterlist | playlist | backwards | forward

A/N: wow, another update four days later and ahead of schedule for once!! this chapter has been half-written and in drafts, waiting to be finished a whole month. sorry if it has some errors, i did my best to proofread and edit. i wrote most of this to someone to stay -- vancouver sleep clinic if that doesn't explain the soft moments this chapter gives, i needed the soft moments for my own selfish reasons pls enjoy <33

Synopsis: Amidst growing turmoil, Elmo Tully works to forge alliances with old rivals. As wedding planning forges ahead, storm clouds gather over Raventree Hall. Guests arrive for the betrothal feast, while Serra and Benjicot struggle to find common ground to ensure their marriage's success. Benjicot's olive branch to Serra offers some hope, despite her doubts. The families celebrate amid rising tensions and news from King’s Landing. Lord Samwell hears of the Brackens coming close to their borders and finally cracks underneath the pressure of his council.

Content Warning(s): MDNI — 18+, adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism and gender based harassment/discrimination, sexual content, mild depictions of family based violence, implied suicide ideation.

Word count: 7.1k

“How did it go?” 

Kermit had met Oscar at the doors upon his return from travel the past five and a half days — he couldn’t even hide his disgust at the sight and smell of his younger brother whose return was whispered to him as he had been sifting through the contents of the library that morning. He had made sure to be notified as soon as he’d stepped foot within the gates of Raventree once word had reached him that Oscar was expected to arrive that afternoon. 

It had been a long several days since the feast, and in the aftermath of the meeting between some of the Lords of the Riverlands, Oscar had been sent on horseback with a fleet of men from House Tully to the Arryn’s — a long journey that he did not outwardly protest against, but Kermit had seen the twitch of his eye as he gave his father a nod that was curt and far too formal for their usual dynamic; the war had shifted something in the air between the father and his sons in recent days. But the journey was one of necessity, sent as a messenger to House Arryn in the Eyrie -- one that would have been quicker if not for several storms that forced them to shelter for the night, issued with the task of reminding the Lady Jeyne of her vow to Rhaenyra and of their houses’ long-standing alliance and support of one another. A task that seemed easy enough, now days later and two less horses after having hit a snag and walking into a trap that had been rigged on the forest paths. Kermit had been there when the raven flew in with updates from their journey, notifying Elmo of the accident, which had involved his brother. Oscar was safe and otherwise unharmed aside from his pride and sore. 

Oscar, with his dirt stained face, smelling of fields and horse shit, yanked off his riding gloves as he shoved past his brother; his left cheek scuffed with a scab from a fall off his horse amidst their return after a last minute detour towards House Baratheon -- a decision his brother had made in his emboldened enthusiasm.

“What did they say?” Kermit asked again, earning a huff from his brother who continued his brisk walk towards the great hall where their father waited among the councilmen. 

“That’s a promising answer,” Kermit sarcastically said, striding alongside his brother and trying to keep up with his pace as he mimicked his huff, “I take it you replied with a sort of…” he continued, giving his brother an animalistic like grunt from behind him. 

Oscar abruptly stopped outside the doors and whipped around, scowling as his brother collided with his shoulder and awkwardly stumbled to keep from falling into him, “Do you know when to shut up? Have some patience, brother.” He muttered, shoving his brother back a couple of steps and re-establishing the small bit of space between them as he turned, his brother letting out a snort.  

He shoved the doors open, Elmo sat at the head of the table and deep in conversation with Lord Rivers who had yet to return home as the feast celebrating the union of his sister and Benjicot neared, the final details being cemented for that night, much to their reluctance -- Kermit and Oscar both heeded warning at the thought of last feast’s events, but their father insisted at least on something smaller and more intimate than dozens of random elderly Lords and their snobbish sons. The invite had only been extended to select few entrusted vassals of House Tully, Elmo reassured.  

He stopped at the opposite end of the table as he entered with Kermit in tow, his father’s gaze watching him with a look of expectancy, awaiting his words as his head bowed out of respect. Lord Rivers withdrew to his seat as Oscar glanced towards him, waiting until there was silence among the table of men, his gloves clutched in his right hand at his sides, “I have news from my journeys to House Arryn and House Baratheon.” He announced. 

The last of the mutters ceased, pausing as he moved to shift his stance, suddenly panged by a wave of anxiety towards the eyes that watched him from around the room. Oscar was never an insecure, timid boy -- he was confident, well-spoken and self-assured, and had never shied away from attention. But with his age, in comparison to the much more experienced men around him, oozing wisdom that countered his own youthful inexperience, he was painfully aware that he was just a boy in their eyes; stood there in armor, like a child playing ‘knight’. He knew that they did not view him as equal to his father -- not like he expected them to. 

“Proceed, son.” Elmo stated, his voice warm and encouraging. 

Oscar again nodded slowly and took a breath before he spoke, “House Arryn has once again pledged their support in favor of Rhaenyra Targaryen as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and has pledged to support our military efforts as much as they can afford.” He spoke, his tone more confident than it had been when he arrived. 

“And that of House Baratheon?” His father asked. 

“They have declared for the usurper, Aegon.” He replied, his eyes scanning the men around the table who broke into a series of mutters. “They plan to support him and his army should the time come.” Oscar explained. “Craven cunts.” Kermit muttered from behind him, reminding Oscar that he stood only a foot away from him as they spoke. 

Elmo’s eyes darted to his brother, in response to his words, his frustration evident in his face as his brows furrowed. 

“It does not come as a surprise to me.” Samwell said, speaking up finally. “I recall their Lordship expressing his…reservations about a woman sitting on the throne when she was first declared apparent heir. I was just hoping he would come to see reason.” He said, letting out a small sigh and looking to Elmo, who gave a small nod. 

“We can only do so much to guide others to see better judgment. I’ve received ravens from House Manderly and House Celtigar who have declared for Rhaenyra at least.” Lord Tully stated, his fingers drumming against the table as he seemed to linger on the update. While not the outcome they had hoped for, Oscar had done his duty successfully in all other words. “You’ve done a good job, Oscar.” 

Oscar nodded again, his head lifting to where his father stared at him, the two men in silence. A moment passed before Elmo leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows atop the table and glancing towards an empty chair on his right as a sort of hint to his son. “Well?” He asked. “Do you plan to sit and join us?” 

Oscar turned his head and glanced at Kermit who looked back at him, the brothers sharing a look, his mouth opening to stutter out a sentence, “I…I was hoping to change first, make myself presentable.” He softly explained to his father. 

His hand waved dismissively to the idea, “Nonsense. There’s no more pride than that of a knight in the raw.” 

He visibly hesitated, letting out a small grunt under his breath that only Kermit could hear, a choked sound that came from his throat as though he wanted to refuse and insist on at least changing out of his riding gear; the little armor he wore streaked with mud and his own blood from the gash on his cheek. There was a sound of leather squeaking as he clenched his gloves with a white knuckle grip, before he let out a breath from his nose and walked forward, his head down as he moved to take his place at his father’s side. 

“And what of me, father?” Kermit asked, his brother’s chair dragging across the ground as he sat down.  

There was a glimmer of pride in his father’s eye as he watched Oscar scoot his chair forward, making himself as comfortable as he could, though Kermit could compare him to a wooden plank; stiff as he adjusted his cloak underneath him. His father turned to look at him after flashing a smile to his brother, chin lifting as he spoke, “Oh, check on your sister, will you? I haven’t seen her yet today.” 

Kermit gave a small nod, visibly disappointed at the request. 

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She found the castle had been quiet in the days that followed the feast -- much quieter than she was used to. In the aftermath, her father and Kermit were much gentler than normal with her, careful as though they feared she would jump and run if they spoke too loudly. She felt like a child they were coddling and the whole situation was humiliating, feeling as though she was six years old again, clinging to her mother and crying because some boy was mean to her. 

In some ways, she was grateful for it however. 

They gave her more space than they had before and didn’t interrupt her as often; instead, they hung back from a distance and occasionally walked by her rooms, to glance in and make sure she was okay but would leave without saying anything. On the odd occasion she caught them staring, they would offer small smiles and nod, before carrying on. It gave her an opportunity to breathe, ground herself and reel from the events of the feast -- she could almost pretend that it hadn’t even happened and convince herself, this was not her life and was just some nightmare. 

Once she had moved past the feast and its chaos, she was faced with a new challenge. 

She watched from the treeline as Benjicot trained, too engrossed in his spar with his cousin to pay her any mind as she kept her distance; Alistair posted a few paces behind her. Her hands remained preoccupied by the small purple flowers in her hands -- violets that she had managed to find at the edges of the property, plucking them with a childish excitement. She had turned from her knelt position on the ground, summoning Alistair forward and insisting he hold them as she picked whatever his hands could hold. There had been a hint of apprehension, hesitating as he eyed her, before nodding and accepting the flowers, holding them in his left hand as she resumed her task of collecting them and rambled on about the knowledge she’d obtained over the years; familiar with herbs and plants and their medicinal use -- she had rambled on about a tea she could make with them when they returned. In the aftermath of the feast that had turned out disastrously, she found she actually enjoyed Alistair’s company and found comfort in his presence. He listened and was polite when he responded, and in the few words he offered, he provided her with wisdom. 

“Should we return to the library, my lady?” Alistair asked. She hummed inquisitively in response, eyes still transfixed on the boy Lord she was still working to figure out. “I can summon one of the kitchen workers to fix that tea for you.” He offered. 

She turned to look at him, offering a soft smile, “No, no. It’s quite alright, I can do it later. I’d like to stay out here a little while longer.” Serra replied, her gaze turning to look again towards the two young Blackwood men. “I…have something I have to do, actually.” 

“Might I be able to help somehow?” He offered. 

She shook her head, but paused, “Could you actually take these inside? I’d like to invite Lord Blackwood for a walk and then I will be in.” She explained, turning to him and once again scooping half of the flowers into his hands, her gaze down and avoiding his eyes. There was a moment of silence that passed between them before he spoke again. 

“Would you like me to summon him for you?” Alistair pressed again, her eyes finally coming up to make out the skepticism in his features, a look of concern in his eyes. 

She smiled again, “No, I…feel this is something I should do.” She replied, voice soft as she withdrew, keeping a few of the flowers for herself. 

Even through her reassurance, she could still see his concern, reluctant to nod and leave her to the task. Though he gave her a nod and passed her, walking towards the house and leaving her in the spot near the trees some feet away from where Benjicot’s cousin let out a yelp as he fell back into the dirt with a thud. Emrys was quicker to shoot up, rolling onto his side and reaching for his sword that had slipped from his hand in the tumble, just as Benjicot kicked it further from his grasp. She slowly approached, the small flowers in her hands as she stroked the petals between her thumb and forefinger, Emrys’ gaze finding her first as she neared the edge of the circle. 

Emrys looked relieved as he panted out a soft greeting and began to scramble to his feet, “My lady.” 

Benjicot turned towards where his cousin’s attention was placed, finding his betrothed standing before him and offering the smallest of smiles. The two men issued a bow, breathing heavily and flushed in the face as the heir wiped sweat from his bow, “Lady Tully.” He greeted, mouth ajar. 

“My apologies for interrupting.” She softly said, glancing between the two men. She paused, her gaze dropping briefly to the flowers in her hands, looking then to Emrys, “Hopefully he’s not been too hard on you today.” She remarked, her tone hinting a stiff attempt at teasing the Blackwood cousin. 

Emrys barked a laugh, brushing dirt from his doublet, “Hardly. I’m starting to think he’s deliberately trying to maim me.” He commented, shooting a look to his cousin who let out a quiet snort, the closest thing to a laugh that Serra had witnessed yet since her arrival. “In the event I die, he would no longer have any more competition in vying for your eye then, isn’t that right?” He flirted, smug as he leaned to shove Ben with his shoulder. 

The action hardly caused Benjicot’s feet to move beyond his right foot dragging against the dirt in a half-stumble, the two boys jokingly shoving each other and wrestling for a moment. Serra watched as Benjicot quickly slung an arm around his cousin’s neck in the scuffle, laughter ensuing as he muttered something incoherent at him that resembled a warning of ‘watch it’. “Okay, okay-- easy!” Emrys cried out, laughing and shoving him away. 

They settled down, straightening themselves out before they both looked at Serra once again, the smile she wore both shy and hinting her amusement at their antics, finding the interaction rather endearing. “I also mean to bring gifts for you both.” She said, finally stepping into the circle and approaching them. She witnessed the look the two men shared, Emrys’ interest piqued and smiling at her as she walked first to him and offered the small purple flower to him, bowing to her as he gently accepted the flower; bringing it towards his chest. 

“Thank you, Lady Tully.”

She sweetly smiled at him, before her gaze reluctantly found Benjicot’s as he watched the interaction before him, though his expression was one that she found unreadable, his lips parted and eyebrows raised. She hesitated, slow in stepping towards him and offering the last flower to him, placed in her palm and waiting for him. 

Benjicot glanced up at her face from the flower. He had never really understood women’s fixation with flowers, even as a boy, as pretty as they were -- he never viewed them as anything more than decorative things that adorned banners, armor and were a nuisance in the yards of Raventree. They were hardly a gift, but he moved to place his sword underneath his arm, pinned against his side and holding it as he reached out to carefully pluck the flower from her palm with his fingers, forcing a tight smile while holding it up briefly, “Thank you.” 

He watched as she offered a sweet, giddy smile and stepped back, her face lit up with joy as he accepted the flower, “You’re welcome.” Her hands clasped together in front of her, her eyes darting to Emrys who hardly made an attempt at concealing the wolfish grin he gave his older cousin at the sight. She looked back up at Benjicot, his own gaze lingering on his cousin and shooting him a glare of warning, “I understand you are probably busy, but I was wondering if you would care to take a walk around the grounds? Whenever you’re done here, of course.” She hurriedly spoke, her own look shooting to his cousin as if to ask if it was okay, not wanting to intrude more than she already did. 

“I think that would be lovely.” Emrys quickly replied. “We were actually just wrapping up.” 

Benjicot wanted to turn and slap him by the back of his head in that moment, eyes fixing on him again as if to question what the fuck he was doing-- 

“Are you sure?” She asked. 

However, he suppressed the urge to argue and deny her hopeful stare, sighing softly, “Of course. Let me just bring my sword back inside and we can go.” Benjicot grumbled, his annoyance boiling under the surface of his words. 

Her mouth opened to respond, but she was cut short before she could even utter a word as he turned on his heel and stalked away from her. She blinked, shrinking back once again as Emrys watched her deflate, watching after his cousin, “So moody-- I promise he isn’t always like this.” Emrys whispered, trying to make light of the situation, reaching out to touch her shoulder, “I’m sorry.” He quickly said, running after him. 

Her eyes met Kemit’s from the doorway as she watched Emrys run inside, his expression stoic and plain as she forced a polite smile before he turned and walked in the opposite direction as the two men before him. 

     · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She could still sense his anger when he returned to the yard. 

The pair were silent as they walked, her watchful gaze fixed on observing the outer parts of Raventree — tall, sturdy, and appearing just as powerful as its men. Although her feelings towards the man to her right were that of indifference, she struggled to comprehend or make sense of his own attitude towards her, as she had hardly ever done anything to him aside from existing in his presence and that, even as children, had enraged him to such a point that at times she could not deny Benjicot was nothing less than what his houses’ reputation stood for. He embodied that very idea. Loyal but brutes. He did not seem to outgrow that as adults as even now, he didn’t seem to care for her and just seemed to search for any opportunity to humiliate her. Unlike when they were children, it came in forms of snide remarks and innuendos dismissing her as nothing more than some…object to one day warm his bed, or a nuisance — if not, even worse, it felt as though he treated like some sworn enemy to the likeness of a Bracken at times. 

Even though his father could sometimes scare him back into line, it only came in brief moments before he seemed to fall back into his habits. And his father couldn’t follow them and play mediator at all hours of the day. How did they plan to enter a marriage and live under those conditions? In which he despised her and she was nothing more than some doll to take his anger out on? To one day show her some warmth, only to come back with rage and lashing out at her. 

She almost preferred his childhood antics and would have rather he’d shove her into mud and call it a day. The thought of a lifetime spent living this way felt unbearable, the realization weighing heavy on her chest, almost as though she was being both physically and figuratively crushed by the very idea as her gaze anxiously darted to the side of his face from the corner of her eye; taking in the sight of him, so nonchalant and blissfully unaware. Unfazed. Her eyes darted back straight ahead as her clasped hands released themselves, smoothing over the fabric of her dress to wipe the sweat from her fingers, hands shaking slightly as she then clenched them, her breathing deep and heavy with each sharp inhale and exhale of air; even her breath shuddered as she attempted to ground herself, trying to force air into her lungs which felt as though they, too, were being crushed— 

“You’re breathing quite loudly.” Benjicot suddenly said, having been unaware that she had managed to walk ahead of him by a few paces while in thought, her hands once again going to smooth over her bodice as she abruptly stopped. 

She was quiet in response to his statement, too frightened to turn and face him immediately, like a scared child who was fearful of getting in trouble for something they had done — scared that if she showed even the slightest hint of weakness, he would pounce like a predator does their prey. But there was no hiding the fear in her eyes as she slowly turned towards him, one hand at her stomach and gripping the fabric there as if it would somehow steady her shaking hand and hide it in plain sight from him, her eyes meeting his. Though she could only bear to hold his stare for a moment before it dropped to the chest of his doublet, sucking in a deep breath, Benjicot’s eyes narrowing with a furrow of his brows. 

“What…” he began to say, pausing and taking a step toward her, “pray tell, is the matter with you now?” He sighed as he spoke, shoulders slumping with the words and a roll of eyes. 

If she had had even the smallest bit of boldness that existed within her and coursed through her veins, his words could have enraged her — his tone, speaking to her like she was an unfortunate bastard child that burdened him by simply existing, maybe then she would have had just enough courage in her so that she might have been brave enough to shout, yell, even swing a punch at him— but she couldn’t. If she had been born a man, she may have been lucky to possess such bravery. Instead, she was frozen in place, swallowing and instead looking up towards a window of the castle that overlooked them to avoid his eyes as she felt him continue to stare at her. She realized in that very moment, realizing how trapped she truly was, that she would have rather jump from the very window she was standing underneath than be married and stuck with Benjicot the rest of her life. She heard him sigh again, though the sound felt muffled and distant — not like he was standing only half a foot away from her, the sound of her heartbeat pounding so loudly she could barely hear over it.   

“My Lady?” 

She subconsciously had stepped towards the house, her breathing still rapid as she closed her eyes, a cool breeze flowing through the court that blew a few loose strands of hair into her face and across her cheeks. She was snapped, however, from her daze by the feeling of his hand closing around her elbow, eyes shooting open and immediately moving to withdraw from his hold as she leaned away; shrinking back with her mouth open to protest, his eyes on her face — for the first time since her arrival, though, she couldn’t find any trace of disgust in his features as he scanned her appearance. His grip tightened as she tried to withdraw again, tugging against his hand but to no avail. 

“Easy— just… just wait.” He commanded, his eyes darting over his shoulder as though he was looking for someone or something and scanning their surroundings before he quickly looked back at her. His other hand mirrored his right, grabbing her other arm just above her elbow and holding her in place as the sinking feeling of panic set in, her eyes widening and gasping for air as she used her entire weight to try and force herself backwards and out of his hold. Even with all her strength, she was unsuccessful beyond more than a stumbled step forward, only bringing him closer, bringing them chest to chest, “Serra, please— stop.” 

“What are you doing?” She suddenly cried out, voice small as her arms attempted to flail free from his restraint. She looked up at him, a look she couldn’t quite place flashing across his features — hurt, disgust? She gasped inwards, leaning back. 

He suddenly released an arm, stepping back from her and scanning her face, the furrow in his brow remaining, “Do you really think I’d deliberately seek to hurt a woman?” He asked, voice quiet but not hiding his offense, though he knew it was hypocritical. He wasn’t always kind, he was aware of that. 

He hardly allowed her a moment to process his words before his hand around her second elbow loosened and he blinked rapidly a couple of times with a glance towards his feet. He looked up a moment later, his hand dropping and cautiously taking hers, the move slow as his hand covered hers and watching her face as though he was searching for any sign to stop; any further protest — her own eyes still watched in complete and utter fear, confusion on her face, “Just…trust me for a moment. Watch.” He pleaded, voice quiet and desperate as his gaze dropped briefly to her chest, still heaving with the breathless pants that left her mouth before returning to her face. 

His hand was gentle over hers as it lead hers from her side; unfolding her fist and spreading her fingers as it was outstretched towards him, only feeling a small bit of resistance as her hand was guided inwards towards his body — he caught her eyes, that looked between her hand and his face, “Easy...” He repeated, his voice softer than before. Her body was still rigid and her skepticism still evident, but even Benjicot could not blame her for being so unwilling to trust him. What reason had he given her to do so thus far? He’d been nothing short of cruel to her in their childhood and had been so selfishly engrossed in his own fury that he hadn’t even pieced it together that she was as equally innocent in this scenario as he was. It seemed to dawn on him, looking at her face, the pieces falling into place. 

He pressed her hand to his chest, the heat of her fingers felt through his clothing as he pressed it flat, her palm pressed against his sternum over his heart; the steady thrum of his heartbeat felt underneath the layers with his chest rising and falling with steady, regular breaths, “do you feel that?” He quietly asked, her gaze still flipping between her hand and his own eyes before settling there, watching him. “Feel my heart? My breath?” He asked. 

He didn’t expect much of an answer, but her gaze dropped to her hand which seemed to relax under his, which was enough of a reply, “Just feel…breathe.” He quietly instructed. “Follow my breathing, in…out...in…” he guided, giving her a few moments and watching as the tension seemed to slide from her shoulders like a piece of clothing. 

The image of her fear-stricken face was still burned into his mind as he watched her relax — the memory invoking a flurry of guilt and shame to wash over him. He knew he could be cruel at times, but he’d never intended to be the source for her terror; hells, he’d never even realized just how much his actions had affected her. Looking at her in that moment, he’d come to remember she was just as much a pawn to the games of politics as he’d been — if not, more innocent than anyone. She hadn’t wanted this anymore than he had but she didn’t have any choice in the matter, just as he hadn’t. But he was prideful and had to swallow down the urge to say anything more about it, standing there silently as his gaze scanned her face. 

He pitied her, truly pitied her. 

“Your heart is beating faster.” She quietly pointed out, her eyes looking upwards from where her hand was placed, Benjicot having not even realized he was still staring at her as he’d pondered his anger these past days. A sudden rush of heat flooded his cheeks. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something -- the urge to spit out some sarcastic quip readily on his lips, but his words were halted by the sound of Ser Eryn’s voice as he approached them. 

“My lord.” 

Benjicot stepped back immediately, almost jumping and dropping his hand from her wrist as she simultaneously withdrew her hand from his chest; both their heads whipping towards the guard, “I apologize for my intrusion…but your father has summoned you.” Ser Eryn explained, his gaze fixed explicitly on the young man. 

Benjicot found his voice finally, nodding as he swallowed, looking down at the ground beneath his feet and then glancing towards Serra, her hands at her sides as she briefly returned his glance -- they both then looked back at Ser Eryn, “Very well. Thank you.” He simply replied. 

The guard nodded, turning with a clank of his armor before striding away, but not before he shot a last look in the direction of the young woman who was still standing timidly a few inches shy of the heir, wordlessly. Benjicot waited until he was out of earshot before he looked back at her, his hands going to clasp behind his back, “We should make our way back now, my lady. Shall we?” He spoke, his voice regaining its prior confidence, head tilting to gesture her along -- she nodded, a meek gesture in reply as she tentatively took a few steps to come back up to his side as he then began to lead them back down the path that circled the estate. 

The walk back was just as quiet as the one there, both keeping their eyes straight ahead. Serra wasn’t sure she had accomplished what she had set out to do when they first left — not sure she felt she understood him better or felt they had bridged their feud; she wasn’t even sure she could say she knew him better. But she was at least reminded that he was still human, under the brutish behavior, that he did possess the ability to be gentle and kind, if that’s even what she could call it. Occasionally, her gaze would wander towards him and even though he seemed set on avoiding catching her eye again, she still took the brief opportunity to observe him as she tried to figure him out again for the hundredth time that week. She noted the lines at the corners of his eyes that crinkled when he scowled and she could assume they were prominent when he smiled, too. From this angle, as the sinking sun caught his eye, she could make out that his eyes were almost green — maybe even hazel? Regardless, in this lighting he did not appear as intimidating or even menacing as she had previously thought him to be. Nothing more than a boy, she realized. 

The main doors were opened by guards as they approached, creaking open so loudly the sound echoed throughout the halls; Benjicot walking ahead of her and letting out a puff of air as he began to approach the familiar doors where the council and his father were awaiting him, though he paused. He visibly hesitated in turning to her, the same pensive look on her face as they stared at one another a moment before he took a step toward her, “I apologize for having to cut our meeting short. I will see you at supper, yes?” He questioned, reaching out to grab her hand and bringing it to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes briefly dropped to his mouth, noting the scar above his lip before returning to his eyes and nodding. 

“Yes, of course.” 

Benjicot straightened up and nodded, letting her hand go in order to turn and make his way into the hall where Serra briefly caught a glimpse of her father sitting at the table, along with Samwell and other council members as the doors opened. Though a silence settled over them as Benjicot entered and sat down, her father and Samwell both casting looks in her direction as their quiet discussion ceased at the doors being held open. It was then that her attention was drawn to the sound of her elder brother coming down the stairs quite quickly, one hand at his sword just as she and Benjicot parted; his gaze following his friend before looking at her. Kermit appeared to slow as he approached the bottom two stairs, pausing and sharing a silent exchange with his sister, his shoulders visibly relaxing. 

“Sister.” He suddenly said, breaking the silence and nodding at her before rushing into the room behind the young Blackwood who had entered moments earlier. The doors were closed behind him, leaving her standing in the hall, more at ease than she had been the past several days. 

    · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A soft knock echoed through the room as Benjicot stood in front of the window, straightening the neck of his cloak, shoulders rolling as he assumed it was a reminder to hurry from one of the guards, “Come.” He called out, growing frustrated as the fabric would not sit right against his throat no matter how much fidgeting with it that he did. He felt as though he was being choked and deprived of air as he sucked in a sharp breath. 

He heard as the door opened and footsteps shuffled against the ground, entering the room and closing the door, “I will be down shortly.” He replied, giving the clothing one last tug and beginning to fix his sleeves, however his companion was silent. He turned, sensing that it wasn’t a guard afterall, and finding Kermit stood behind him with a look of contemplation, his eyes moving to scan his appearance. His eyebrows furrowed. They quietly stared at each other for a moment that left Benjicot almost uncomfortable. 

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” Benjicot asked suddenly. 

Kermit forced a smile, “You always do, don’t worry.” He said, the attempt at a playful tone painfully forced and not unnoticed by Ben. His gaze dropped again, fixed on the Blackwood sigil across his chest, mouth opening to speak again, “I don’t want to be the overbearing brother who nags you with the same warnings your father already has, I know there is only so much I can say that has not already been said a hundred times...” He said, his voice soft and looking up to his eyes again. 

Benjicot did not attempt to interrupt him with a reply, settling on listening intently. 

“She’s a kind girl.” Kermit stated, matter of factly and more confident as he stood upright. “Kinder than most. She feels so much, so deeply, and she cares too much for her own good sometimes. But she is good…more so than anyone I have ever met. She possesses both intellect and wit, and despite the chaos of the men around her-- she remains such a gentle, good-hearted spirit who keeps us grounded. She is terrible with a needle and thread, but she knows how to soothe and mend the worst of wounds-- I used to go right to her whenever you kicked my ass when we would train as boys. And I know one day she will be equally as kind a mother as she will be a wife, just as our mother was.” He continued to speak, stepping closer to his friend who held his gaze. 

“I’d like to think we’ve always been good friends,” He said. “I even consider us to have become like brothers.” Benjicot’s expression softened, his shoulders relaxing, “I do too.” 

“Then please treat her with kindness.” He pleaded suddenly, stepping forward one last step until he was mere inches from him. “Treat her with decency and be good to her. I have never trusted anybody else with her as I do you. I know you are a good and generous man, Benjicot, and I know somewhere inside you, you still possess the kindness and warmth my sister needs. I ask…” He spoke, pausing to catch his breath. 

He reached out to place a hand on Benjicot’s shoulder, “I ask that you be a better man than your father was to you. Because otherwise she will not survive this marriage if you cannot, and I cannot bear to imagine a life without her, knowing I was the cause for my own sister’s demise. She does not deserve that.” He explained, his voice thick with emotion as Ben watched his friend nod as if to silently ask that he understood after a moment. 

He reluctantly nodded after a few seconds that felt like hours. 

They did not part immediately, staring at each other in the silent space of Ben’s chambers, the weight of his pleas lingering over them. Kermit gave a final nod whilst clapping his friend’s shoulder and sniffling once before he stepped back and folded his hands behind him, “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready, then.” He quietly said. 

Kermit was slow in retreating from the room, leaving him to his thoughts, his words heavy on his chest like the boot of his opponent in battle; the ache there deep and raw as his hand instinctively rose to massage his chest over his heart with his knuckles, as if to rub away the anxiety their conversation left him. He turned on his heel and faced the desk that was shoved against the wall, stacked with books — and there, among all the strewn papers and ink stains, sat a small purple flower against the brown leather of a history textbook he had skimmed through days prior. 

He reached out for it with the hand that had touched his chest, careful in picking up the delicate violet that had been plucked from the yards of Raventree and eyeing it under the little light that the sun cast in through his window. 

“Because otherwise she will not survive this marriage if you cannot.” 

His mouth twitched, sighing as he lifted the flower across his chest and gently tucked it into the pin of his House that rested over his left shoulder as he turned to leave towards the door. His guard stood to attention, stiff and proper as he bowed his head while he was still preoccupied by the task of adjusting the flower against the fabric as he stepped into the hall, Ser Eryn’s eyes drawn to the plant that was neatly placed among the uniform. Benjicot exhaled, cheeks ballooning with air as his eyebrows rose briefly at the guard, his head tilting in the direction of the stairs, “Shall we?” 

The young Lord Blackwood led them throughout the halls of the keep, the sun beginning to set with the end of the day as evening enveloped the riverlands in darkness; the walls lined by lit torches that provided an orange glow despite the hour. He was given the odd bow of head as he passed workers House Blackwood employed, mutters of ‘my lord’ following him as he descended the stairs to the entrance. The doors to the great hall were already opened and readily greeted him as Ser Eryn followed close behind, relieved to find that the only commotion from the room was the sound of joyous laughter and the light hum of conversation filling the hall as he entered. 

His father had spared no expense with the extravagant display, the room lined with yellow and red decorations, the finest of silverware adorning the table as guests lined both sides of the table. 

He anxiously fidgeted with the cuffs of his doublet as he approached the head of the table, where his father and Serra’s family sat, waiting for his arrival. His father’s gaze eyed him from over his chalice, taking a sip as Benjicot found his place at a seat next to Serra, snug between her and Samwell. 

“--your men should reach the borders within the hour.” Elmo said in a hushed voice, leaning towards Samwell, attempting not to bring attention to the conversation. “They should meet the camp as soon as they get there.” 

Benjicot frowned as he pulled his chair forward, “What?” 

“Nothing.” Samwell quickly replied, setting his drink down and scanning his son’s appearance. “You look well-rested.” He said. Ben sensed his struggle to utter the words, not used to extending compliments. 

“Thank you.” He quietly replied. 

He could feel his eyes linger, following his father’s eyes to the flower on his left shoulder, “You’ve added some personal touches to your uniform.”

“It’s from the yards.” He answered, reaching for the wine pitcher from the table and bringing it towards his cup, pouring himself a drink. 

In the corner of his eye, he could make out the sight of movement as Serra had turned, mid-conversation with who he soon figured out was Oscar when he turned to look over at her whilst setting down the jug. Her gaze was fixed on the flower that was tucked in as part of his pin, delicate and perfect there, her lips parting but not saying anything. 

“It’s a nice touch,” Samwell said. “I like it.”

Serra looked up at him, a blush creeping across her face as she flashed a small smile, shy and genuine as she then looked down to her lap. He tore his gaze from her and looked once again at his father who rose an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, it’s nice.” Benjicot mumbled, lifting his cup to his mouth.

masterlist | backward

TAGLIST: @username199945, @cxcilla, @thethiccestdaddy, @deltamoon666, @drwho-ess, @callsigncrushx @clarityisnofun @jhepolie @juhdoche @majoso12 @roseheart5 @nixtape-foryou @poppyflower-22 @accidentpronedork @tannyfairy @maximizedrhythms

[royaltrios]

this tornado loves you fic notes

ok i held off on the dad kink for like 4 full fics alright. give a guy a break

this idea started as just kyouji making satomi ride him but completely refusing to actually fuck him + not let satomi move until he admits what kyouji wants to hear...... and it stayed that so yay (innocently chinhands) i mostly outlined how i wanted important dialogue beats to go seeing as the plot is pretty cut and dry, however i did doodle these at work to better picture the scene w them on the couch lmfao

this did start as fully dubcon before i honed more in on what i wanted to do with it. id say it ended up more so as just being like under-negotiated kink + kyouji's phd in pushing boundaries. but you can trust him he knows what satomi really wants (probably!)

i do not remember the last time i opened a fic with a sex scene. im always kind of nervous to do it?? but i think it works here with two smut scenes sandwiching the fic overall

i wanted to make sure that satomi calling him dad while being fucked didnt cause kyouji to pause (physically) at all. i 100% believe he would just immediately internalize that and go with it. kyst worst communicators of the year 4 years running

the yakuza interlude was fun to write... it turns out a year+ of reading rgg fics and working my way thru the games lends itself to me rly enjoying writing about that stuff lol. and i needed to have kyouji think on his feelings before they got back together for the last scene, so what better way to do that than juxtaposing it against his gritty job stuff. something about it is so extremely gap moe right

the movie's la la land im sorry to spoil it if u didnt know or wanted to guess v_v ive never seen it but 1. the parody poster of it they did for the karaiko movie and 2. like every other person with eyes im unreasonably attached to the twice what is love mv

the title's from the neko case song! and the makihara song was kind of a random pull on my end but i think it fits. in my defense the songs that satomi gives him in canon are like half super cutesy lyrics-wise… so i dont think its that far off to imagine he secretly likes kyouji saying that sweet stuff to him... i listened to mostly the aforementioned songs + 80s/90s jpop while writing (southern all stars, yutaka ozaki)

was thinking about what kyouji could have satomi say as the kinda linchpin moment (lol) and then 'i love you' hit me like a fucking truck. i was like holy shit. he absolutely would, hes horrible! kyouji 'id rather get this kid to call me dad than admit i want to spend the rest of my life with him normally' narita

i started writing 1/27 worked on it pretty consistently except when i went away last weekend and forced myself not to reread it or make any edits while i was traveling... i finished the draft and then passed it to art who was kind enough to beta (i was worried this was genuinely incomprehensible to anyone but me so i needed to be sure) putting distance between urself and ur draft is good who'd have thought.... not i

overall though i had so much fun with this one!!!!! i kept being excited to return to it and there were many days where all i wanted was to go home and sit and work on it. its the first really indulgent fic ive written in a bit haha. i hope other people like it as much as i do :'] i feel like ive hit my stride with this ship and im looking forward to whatever i write next.... yaahoooo

[lorelune]

hey lore !!!!! I'm a big fan of your works <3 they honestly amaze me so much. i especially adore your world building it's just so ?? scrumptious ?! no seriously it's so good like i want to eat it up along with your characterization. i love how you enhance already existing world's as well as create new ones — not just world's but ways things work and intricacies within intricacies.. you provide such a clear idea that makes picturising it all so much easier and interesting

ive never written before other than some blurbs here and there on my notes app but recently hsr brainrot has been Hitting it lately and i've had way too many thoughts 💭 i was planning on maybe writing a fic.. but it requires insane amount of world building (and ik that's definitely not the right thing to start off on, as a new writer/for your first work but then again ig there is no right and wrong way to do it (?) it's more like my brain power might not support me and i’ll abandon it half way or something 🥲 haha) anyway i was wondering if you have any tips on how to worldbuild or build further on the existing ideas of certain organisations and all that sort.. there's just so many ideas haywiring and i would really love some advice if you don't mind. but no pressure !! sorry if this was too long,,

omg hello anon!! not too long at ALL hehe i'm gonna answer this below the cut hehe

first off THANK YOU 🥺!!! i appreciate your kind words so much <3 i really enjoy worldbuilding in my own writing and i'm very glad the ideas i bungle up translate well when actually in a story :'^) in my own little brainworld where i daydream, i tend to add details and layers to the original story that i do like... question if i can execute. so it is always nice to hear that they do in fact make it through 😭💓

as for advice!!

anon. so transparently. so REAL-y. if you have the brainworms for a story, even if its big and complicated and a lot to chew on it, just start!!! it is so intimidating truly but there is no better writing fuel than the muse of a story that has captured you. and!! if it does not end up finished, that is totally okay!! i have personally learned some of most valuable lessons writing while working on large pieces that ultimately ended up unfinished.

for more material advice:

when working on fic, i keep a lot of notes in a personal discord server. i have a wip channel and threads for certain fic ideas where i compile plot details, world details, fanart and inspo photos. it's super helpful!!!

one thing that helps me when i have big grand worlds in my head and i need to get them down and written is, instead of choosing to take a bite out of the whole world itself, i try to choose just a snippet or event and build around that. for example, in cicatrix, you get LOTS of lore abt calibrators and their relationship to the luofu, but plenty of what i had spinning around in my noggin didn't make it down. it wasn't relevant to the immediate story, event, or conflict, so it stayed unspoken. however, i think having really rich background going INTO writing these snippets of a larger universe helps fill things out and seem more like... lived in.

i will say. so indispensable. BETA READERS. the first few drafts of cicatrix where so ROUGH when it came to world building. i had the whole lore of calibrators and the luofu in my head, but getting it down clearly and in a way that made enough sense to an unknowing audience took a few read throughs and feedback by some lovely friends of mine. i highly recommend tracking down someone to read over your pieces and provide feedback on the things you're worried about!!!

and like... perhaps a little corny. but. believe in yourself. we are our own greatest critics, and the best attitude to cultivate toward the craft is that you can... do it. you just can. innately anon, regardless of experience, you can create the story and world you want to. bolstering a sense of confidence goes FAR esp if you end up writing a longer piece!!!

anon i got quite rambly asldkf. i hope this is in some way helpful!!! if you have any other questions, i am happy to answer!! i truly think writing immersive worlds is SO fun and engaging, and sometimes you just gotta. throw your hat in the ring. start the run and see where it takes you. i wish you such like and good tidings anon <3

[lovely-showtimes]

sleepy cuddles . . . ♡

characters - minori.

type - (very) small scenario.

contains - unsure if this would be disorienting to anyone but i don't refer to minori by name in this fic, it's just 'her' and 'you'. fun stylistic choice or something

a/n - i truly dont know what happened. i was getting utterly wrecked by my own writer's block and then i blinked and this whole post was sitting in my drafts. definitely one of the more self indulgent things ive written, sometimes you have to sit down and write something gay and it just heals you. anyways, enough rambling from me, enjoy ~

The night is still. The wind rustles through the trees ever so slightly, too quiet to make any real noise. The street is empty, only marked with lampposts to guide anyone who's somehow awake right now.

It is so, so peaceful.

Amidst the tranquility of the night, in one house out of many, lies two teenagers. They're tucked away inside the pillow fort they excitedly and carefully built. Plushies are strewn across the fort, a few sitting up as if watching over the two to protect them from harm.

Blankets half-cover you both, most likely pulled on without a second thought while you were basically already asleep. You really don't need them anyway, considering you're practically using each other as blankets while you slumber.

The two of you are pressed together as close as you can manage, with her arms enveloping your waist and yours pillowing her head. Her head is buried in your chest, just where your heart should be. Her soft brown hair tickles your chin, something you don't really mind.

A laptop lies in front of you both, long having returned to sleep mode. The idol videos you had been watching had eventually ceased playing. Maybe the two of you were dreaming about being the idols in said videos, performing proudly for all to see on that shiny, dazzling stage. Who knows, really.

The two of you were happy, though. That's all that mattered. You were warm, she was warm, the pillow fort around you was warm, your hearts were warm.

You were happy.

[teitpp]

From the ✍️ more fic writer asks: questions 10, 14 and 23! :)

Thank you for the asks! Sorry the answer took a while!

From this post!

10. What is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

So in the last post i talked about my longest ongoing fic so this time i'll use the two ive finished that i let sit for a while.

Unbroken

Started Writing: June, 2018

Finished: April 2024

Total writing time: 5 years and 10 months

Longest Haitus: about 4 years, between finishing the first 3 or 4 chapters in 2018 and beginning posting in 2022.

A little about why I put it down and why I picked it back up: In the beginning it was a mediocre idea. I was extremely committed to it. excited about it. Basics, which I'd just watched for the first time in 15 years that year bothered me. so. much. all bark and no bite. I wanted it to feel like a realistic conflict, with all the pain and shock and strategic, accidental, and opportunistic cruelties that entails. And in some ways i also wanted an outlet to process some of the more horrific conflicts i had been learning about in class.

But I was a relatively inexperienced writer still. and i was nervous. I'd never written something so dark before. something that inflicted such non-canonical harm on a main character. GoT had just recently come under a lot of fire for writing rape and gratuitous violence into its TV show that werent part of the books, and so it was hard for me to sort out how what I was doing was any different. Combined with reading criticism at that time of writers who wrote rape into their fics and I got cold feet fast. I didnt yet have the stable fandom friendships that would later be able to encourage me, and i also didnt yet have the self confidence to encourage myself.

Im not upset about the haitus though. In that 4 years of sitting on the story, i grew a lot as a writer. i grew so much! ultimately when I picked it back up i not only had the confidence and the encouragement i had lacked before, but i also had the experience and the skill to navigate my plot and to find the balance i needed between showing the true horror and devastation of the violence without making it gratuitous. I threw out a subplot about finding a water source in favor of a subplot exploring Suder's mental health and letting little used lower decks characters have a moment in the spotlight. I tossed most of the canon deaths in favor of showing how the crew could cope with disabiling injury or illness, and how different characters would react to the survival circumstances. My only regret by the end was that I realized too late how interesting it would have been to keep Seska alive and on board. But i'd planned so much of that fic series without her by then that keeping her alive would have thrown future plans into disarray.

I also have to shout out my three betas: Red, CAMIR, and BlackVelvet. They really pushed me to lean into the darkness and explore it fully, rather than shy away and show it from a distance. that made what i had by the end something i was so happy with and proud of. im so grateful they held my feet to the fire and helped me finish this!

Sailor Moon H, Half Blood Prince,

Started: May 2016

Finished: May 2021

Longest Hiatus: 2017 or 2018-2020

Why I put it down and how I picked it back up: I can blame lots of the hiatus on grad school and the rest on despising the WIP.

Unbroken really benefitted from not being very far along in 2018 when I put it down. When i picked it up again i had the bones of an old story to build on. But SMH Half Blood Prince was much farther along by the time i had to put it down (150k-200k). It was the last story i ever wrote without a good outline. when i picked up the draft again i was a different writer... and I despised it. It was long (the final word count was 305,000). Meandering. It didnt know where its focus should be. I had written my first nonbinary characters and the effort felt bad and clumsy. And I had too many characters and too many ships. i knew i would either spend years finishing it or send it off with plotholes a mile wide.

Ultimately I loathed not finishing it more than I loathed its imperfections. So I picked plotholes in favor of a tighter ending I liked, with a solid set up for a final story. i think of in fondly now, as my favorite failure, and im outlining the final story to, hopefully, not become such an unfocused behemoth.

14. Where do you get your inspiration?

A lot of my initial inspiraton comes from canon that bothers me or teases me with some intriguing question that isnt addressed or isnt completely answered on screen. but especially with Star Trek a lot of inspiration comes from my friends, all sorts of conversations and "what ifs" and "wouldnt it be funny" sort of prompts and back and forths that really get me thinking!

Other times it's real life inspirations: Conflicts or problems or travel that just sparks... something. its hard to put into words. Basically if i have enough time to brood over something an idea wil definitely come out of it!

23. pick three keywords that describe your writing.

hmmm...

Lengthy, Sensory, Overly-researched.

[tapir-boy]

back by no demand: a wip update

lila & ari's first meeting with the iron bull (goes wrong) (not clickbait) (dont watch after midnight) (etc etc youtube clickbait titles) (pending editing)

now posted! https://archiveofourown.org/works/64560886

oc & oc relationship where my commander lavellan (pre-being the commander) brings his niece to skyhold and establishing her connection to solas & bull bull/lavellan/felassan where two of them become step-uncles to the lavellan niece and also felassan gets cured of tranquility and has to live life afterwards. (not even outlined this is just a thing i keep thinking about. theres maybe a scene where the lavellan niece finds out about felassan's secret dead daughter and they have meltdowns together. who knows)

this has now spiralled wildly out of control and combined with the felassan/lavellan/bull ideas i had which is why they're now grouped together. shout out to my partner for enabling me RNSDKJGLD

as a treat, these are the WIP titles

the tapir-boy legally mandated Gender Fic TM CR where sof gets to reflect on gender after the convo w taash (includes trans neve bc its canon 2 Me)

no progress whatsoever. at some point im going to give up and just post it OR completely rewrite it. but that point is NOT TODAYYYYY

taash/laidir fic going over their history and how they end up getting together (will end in smut. this is a threat)

halfway done ish! the smut is potentially on the cutting room floor, im discovering via this fucking emmrook first time fic that i HATE writing like detailed smut, so its more just a fade to black at this point. IF i want to i might go back and do the smut. but for now its a fade to black. but i have about half my planned scenes done, i just need to finish the other half

sof & lucanis talking together after the titan reveal & sof picking a fight with solas over it

now written! yippeee https://archiveofourown.org/works/64880545

emmsof first time (wip. its almost at 3k now. im fighting for my life w this thing)

we've made it to 4k 🎉theres like one or two more sections i still need to write, and then its going to Steep for a while, and then im going to have to HEAVILY edit it since its kind of all over the place. such is the way of writing one fic over the course of, uh, six months

sofcanis first time (ends w them snuggling w emmrich to Cope with the Horrors.)

this may also spiral out into a much larger WIP at this point, i talked about it for too long and now its like 3 chapters that are outlined of the whole Thing of sof coming home, not all of it is smut now

and now for the new ones (because god help me i cant sTOP-)

a small series of interludes about the veilguard and their allies during the time that sof is missing in gay baby jail

mostly outlined, but i have like 500 words for the first scene i was thinking of

pre-canon series of vignettes about sof, varric, and harding during the year they travel before dav

tbh this is largely just an excuse to actually write out some canon about the war of the banners in my verse and establishing why sof is so secretive at the start of dav regarding their identity. its like half a wip and half a glorified outline

5+1 fic about connor hawke hiding lila's existence from the party in act 1, and the first time he intentionally introduced them

this was kind of spur of the moment, blasted it out in two days, possessed me until i had it done type of fic. its pending editing but ive already done one round, its honestly probably on its final draft at this point, but i wanted to get that fic about sof and their reaction to the titans out first since its been sitting longer. this is probably whats getting posted next

[evandore]

i wasnt going to do any like list for october bc i wanted to not stress abt that until november comes around However i saw someone do an october list for ocs and the first prompt was favorite oc i was like ohhhhh caroline...and then i looked at the actual list and it was very much for artists but i kept searching and found one for writing and now i kind of really want to do it about caroline erm

the only problem is that its MESSES UP !!! THE FORMATTING FOR MY WRITING ACCOUNT !!!! cause ive just been doing prompt lists while i get all my files organized and i have a solid list of What To Do ... but ive made a system which is like

reblog prompt list

> finish minimum three

reblog prompt list

> finish minimum three

^ and then i was thinking for every two done the next could be Event or smth special-er like i just did the event just a few days ago where i wrote about caroline . and i did the full week of that

But i dont want to follow it up with another event directly and i already - okay so the thing is ive written everything on the first four prompt lists ive chosen and they just need to be Edited to be posted bc . bad first draft but still first draft . - so anyway there needs to be Two prompt lists posted aka six prompts done in total before i can do this new event

AT THE SAME TIME !!! i wasnt going to move onto the next prompt lists until i had edited at least half of the first two ones - which are different lengths so theres 10 and 3 prompts left to do respectively

AGHHHH !!!!!! and the event starts today !!!!!! if i had seen it at least a few days ago i could have been more prepared :(

so i think i can at least scrap getting half of the first two lists done cause its not important - which just leaves me with trying to bang out six of the next prompts lol usually it takes like an hour to rewrite so .

the last option is to push back start day and catch up midway through the week but that sucks so bad and will unmotivate me so....UGH whatever. ill get up and start writing I GUESS !!!!

[yestrday]

Imagine

Darling is done with childe shits and then they just grab his hair and slam their head at the table (Modern au)

content ! childe is a masochist, reader is sorta twisted and prideful, one-sided hatred, one-sided love, unhealthy relationships, bullying as a sign of flirting and all that shit, blood

note ! huhu im sorry this was far too long stuck in my drafts but this was too good a prompt to half-ass so ive written over five different ways to write this in the course of time and i stuck with the darker route

you might like: yan! academy genshin + seniors

to everyone else, you're amiable and bright. it's not hard to see why you're one of the rising stars of the academy. sure, you harbor some twisted thoughts to yourself— who doesn't— but you generally don't act on your... less than savory thoughts.

except for childe. ajax. tartaglia. whatever the hell he wants to be called. the moment he pops into view with that annoyingly smug grin, your eyes dull and there's a scowl taking over your face. he hops right up to you, nudging away whichever harem member is at your side at the moment and using your shoulder as an elbow rest. he pinches your cheeks— fondly, he says, but you've got a history of bruised cheeks to disprove that— and snickers at your unimpressed impression.

"don't be so downcast, my lovely junior," he laughs. "you're gonna make yourself look all ugly."

wow. the fucking audacity. you don't necessarily care about whether or not you look nice in this neanderthal's eyes, but holy shit you've had two years worth of his mockery up your ass. you feel like any more and you're actually gonna burst.

the worst part is, he doesn't seem like he's mocking. he helps you like how he helps everyone else, but you know that there is an added mockery to his words, an underlying ridicule so insignificant to everyone but you. "i hope someone like you can keep up" or "someone of your level might not be able to handle this" and many more, all said with the same cheery smile.

you swear he hates you. you hate him to the depths of hell and back. there's no other explanation to why he wants to see you suffer so much.

still, for someone who you assume to abhor you, he seems to be quite fond of popping up at the most (in)convenient of places. whether it be after pe (wet from the gym showers), or in the mall (outfitted in skin-baring clothes that the uniform couldn't do), he was always there. and now. now he's in your classroom, much to the chagrin of you and your admirers friends.

"what is it, childe-senpai?" your voice is dripping venom and childe has to hold back the blush that threatens to spread. "come to ridicule me again?"

"ridicule you?" he fakes a gasp. "why i never. you know you're my favorite, don't you, my sweet junior?"

"why yes." your eyes rolls at him disinterestedly. "you make it ever so obvious." he pouts at such a cold display and trots over to your side. perhaps if you were any other student, you’d faint at how close his face is to yours. you’re well-aware that he has a group of admirers longing for even a second of his presence. but you, well, you glare into his dull blue eyes.

you’ve always wondered why they were dull. perhaps he left his sanity in his mother’s womb.

“what,” you growl. from the corner of your mind, thoma is holding xiao back while kazuha has a firm grip on scara’s shoulder.

he’s silent for a second, before the corners of his lips twitch. “little junior,” he coos. “i’ve heard all about your family, why you’re so set on proving yourself in such a dangerous academy. surely, you need all the help you can get, hm~?”

you can see it in his eyes and hear it in the tone of his voice— he thinks you’re not capable of doing anything by yourself. you grip the corners of your table.

“i can do it by myself.”

he throws his head back, laughing that wretched laugh that grates on your ears and makes you feel like an ant beneath the shadow of his shoe. your cheeks redden as you scornfully stare up at him. “oh, how funny! but you can’t, not really. and you know why that is?” he leans in and you tense at the feel of his hot breath on your nape.

“you. are. weak.”

all color from your face is drained as your expression turns sordid and mute. you have your pride, you take confidence in the fact that you’ve worked harder than any of these people have done before. you’re only one, two years from walking the path of an elite career with enough money to take care of your family for a lifetime. and yet here this arrogant, ginger-headed boy is, calling you to your face weak without ever lifting a pinky for work because of his parents.

you said you’d rather he tell these insults to your face rather than hiding them beneath candied words. you’ve said that before again and again. you tell yourself that again now, even when your hand finds the back of his scruffy hair. you don’t feel or see anything, only giving in to the temptation you’ve been holding back since day one.

you pull his hair towards you and stare blankly into his face.

“fuck you.”

you don’t register the loud ‘crack!’ against your wooden table, or the satisifed and/or surprised expressions of the men who hound you daily, or the loud gasps of your more normal classmates. you only see blood dripping down his face when you pull him up, and the disgust twisting your features as you stare at his expression.

childe’s smirk is replaced with a loony, crazed grin, staring up at you with such a dark and obsessive thirst. blood dripping from his scalp only further accentuates the deep blush on his cheeks. a dog kicked by its master, and yet it comes running back for more.

this. he’s wanted this for so long. for you to reveal your innermost colors to the world, to your suitors, to him.

he shivers as you look at him like trash on the sidewalk.

‘shit,’ he thinks to himself, feeling excitement rush down to his lower body. ‘i won’t be sleeping tonight.’

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Competition of hearts.

Summary: Working together with a competitor in a competition sounded like nonsense to you. Why should you risk losing your perfect score? At least that's what you thought before a tall golden boy made his way into your heart.

Word count: 4.5k+

Genre: Not sure tbh slight hurt comfort, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive in the middle haha

Pairing: Yunho x neutral!reader

Warnings: y/n's actions can be a bit annoying, making out, light fighting, a lot of nonsense (let me know if i missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: ok wow, this is the longest story ive written on here. Half of it has been chilling in my drafts for like a year xD this is the story i published a teaser for ages ago and i finally had the motivation to finish it! I hope yall like it. Im not sure with it because long fics are not my specialty haha

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Dance was your dream. There was nothing you loved more than giving in to the rhythm and letting your body move along the beat. And there has never been something you wanted to do more.

So when all of your school friends decided to go to university, you went your own way. 

Yes sure, you could’ve studied dance. You could’ve gone to college. But you had enough of school and learning and exams and all of that stuff. 

And after running around and auditioning for all kinds of dance academies and dance studios, you got street casted through one of your free shows. It was nothing big. You always wandered around, a speaker in your pocket, settled down in a random place and started to dance. 

It was simple and you wanted nothing for it. 

But it eventually got you a step closer to your dream.

Ever since you were small, you participated in competitions. You loved being seen. Loved being in the spotlight. The applause made your heart beat faster and completely filled you with euphoria. 

And that was how you earned your first money. The first rewards and prices were small, fit for kids and teens, but the older you got, the bigger the prizes for winning were. And after leaving school, you did nothing but train, work part-time and fight for 1st place. 

But at one point you slowly realised that you needed a sponsor to get into better competitions. They didn’t accept you anymore and you couldn’t even pay the entry fees. And that was hard because you had tried getting into academies and other dance focused companies. But you were rejected.

Until that one day this lady came up to you after you finished your street-performance, handing you her card and telling you that you should call her. Which you did. 

“What do you mean “collaboration”? Where is the competition if you have to work together?” You croaked after hearing the alighting news. 

About a week ago, you had entered a pretty anticipated competition which costed a lot of time and money to get into. Many famous dance academies and companies sent their best representatives to compete and you were one of them. 

Your company was by no means big or famous but when you told them about the competition and especially about the winning prizes, they helped you to get into it. And you did really well.

You passed the first four rounds at ease and you had to acknowledge that you weren’t the only one there that would deserve to win but you were confident in your skill and completed every stage with perfection. Because you danced alone. 

“It’s part of the competition! What do you wanna do? Leave?” Your manager and friend aka the lady that casted you on the street, bit back at you.

You had always danced alone. Even though you knew that collaborations were a thing and you would probably have to do one in the future you always avoided them and buried that thought deep inside. 

Being the perfectionist you were, you couldn’t handle it when anything was out of your control. Especially when it came to dance. You had control over your body. That was why you could go up on stage so confidently. Because everything that happens there would be in your control, and if you made a mistake, which you hardly did, that would be your own fault. 

“No of course not! But why are they doing this?! If they do it in pairs they would have two winners!” You knew that complaining wouldn’t change anything but you needed to let go of your anger while you were still coping with the idea of a collab inside of your head.

You would have at least appreciated some warning, some time to think about it. But instead they decided to inform you on the day you should be starting to work on your choreography. 

“‘Your partner will be here soon’ my ass!” You mocked the way your manager came in earlier. “A little more time for mental preparation maybe?!” You threw your water bottle against the wall as you were still raging about the fact that you’d have to work with someone else. 

It was not like you hated the idea. It was just too sudden. You loved to work with others, sharing your ideas and creating something beautiful but in a competition? And so suddenly? It was just a little overwhelming for you. To your demise, you heard a door open.

“Are you Y/n?” A soft voice appeared from above, making you look up from your feet. Your face was red and tears were burning in your eyes, not the nicest picture for the first meeting. 

“I’m Yunho! I will be your partner for the collaboration round. Nice to meet you!” 

You were a little perplexed when you looked at the tall man right in front of you. He had his arm stretched out to you and a big smile on his face.

“Yes I am.. Nice to meet you too.” You hesitated before straightening your body and shaking his hand. 

After letting go of his hand, you tried to fix yourself by redoing your hair and wiping your face. At least you didn’t want to look like you just had an existential crisis. 

“I saw your performances! They were amazing, you are so good! I’m glad I got you as my partner.” Yunho’s energetic voice made you cringe. You didn’t mean to be mean but you were really stressed and couldn’t really understand how someone could be so positive right now. 

“Thank you..” You replied, looking at your manager for help. But Yunho seemed to notice that. 

“So uhm.. I heard you’re not happy with the current situation.” He started, clearly hesitant and careful. “But if you don’t want to drop out, there is nothing we can do. So I hope that we can make the best out of it?” He vaguely smiled at you while tilting his head. 

Oh wow. He heard your little rant. What a good start. 

“See, Yunho..?” You asked, continuing after getting his nod. “I didn’t mean it that way. I am a little… sensitive when it comes to new things. It’s not like I am against working with you, especially not you personally, I was just surprised and overwhelmed..” You explained, scratching your head in the process.

“I know it’s nothing personal against me, don’t worry. I just want to get the best out of this opportunity.” Yunho’s assuring smile was somehow comforting. He looked so innocent, kind and calm. And that helped you calm down before your Managers, Yunho had brought his with him, called you over.

“Have you done a collaboration before?” Your Manager asked Yunho as you sat down together to plan. Yunho nodded. “Good because our Y/n is new to it.” The way your manager talked, showed you that there was no harm intended in that statement. It was just the truth. And suddenly you felt a little childish.

You made such a big deal out of something so usual. 

Being the inexperienced one was weird to you. You had always been good at what you were doing when you worked with others. Of course you were teached as well and you learned a lot but it had been a while since you were the student.

“You’ll have one week to prepare for the stage. No crazy props. They want a performance focused on teamwork.” Yunho’s manager explained while giving you a list of things you could use. “We already talked Yunho through all the details on our way here so he will explain it to you further. We don’t want to steal more of your precious working time.” 

And with that it took five minutes until the studio was empty, except for you and your dance partner. 

“Well.. I guess we should stretch?” You awkwardly smiled at him, causing him to laugh.

Hours passed without you noticing. The studio had no windows so there was no daylight to show you how late it was. The bright lamps kept you from getting tired and the constant movement you were in made you forget about time. 

As the time passed you got to know another side of Yunho. At first you thought he was really playful and lightheaded but you figured out quite quickly that he could also be incredibly serious. 

His passion caught you off guard at first but soon enough you got into working space as well and to your surprise you worked really efficiently.

“So that would be about it for the first minute of the song. I think we should work on the rest tomorrow when we are a bit… fresher.” A smile broke through his seriousness as he wiped sweat off his forehead. You nodded, taking a big sip of water before packing your things. 

But the pace in which he changed from serious and hard working to goofy was just as scary as the other way around. As soon as you had finished packing and tidying up, he was already talking like there was no tomorrow. His voice went through ten different stages as he told you about that one time his friend from his company tried to stir egg whites with chopsticks for three hours, obviously with horrible results.

And if you were honest? It was relaxing. It was not like you were usually quiet. You could be really loud and talkative around the right people but you felt like listening to his stories made it a lot easier to break the ice. Even though it was thin already.

You were glad that he was your partner because you didn’t know if you could have worked so well with someone else. 

“And well. He even tried to get his friend to eat it but he politely declined the offer.” Yunho finished his story of the egg whites just as you left the building. 

“That sounds.. interesting.” You let out a small chuckle. “I bet he was not allowed into the kitchen any longer?” You guessed, making Yunho laugh out loud. “His best friend chased him out with a pan.” He confirmed your guess. 

His friends sounded amazing. 

You had friends at the company and some at your part time job but you weren’t really close with anyone particularly.

“Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Yunho said while getting in a car. And it took you a minute to realise that he was the one driving. 

You nodded at him before walking off in the other direction. He can drive? You wondered as you walked past the company building. It wasn’t unusual but you didn’t have a license so you were a tiny bit jealous. And maybe impressed. 

The following day was pretty uneventful. You met up at around 10am and started to work on your choreography.

You suddenly had a very good feeling about this collaboration. The day went by incredibly fast and after a shared lunch you even managed to finish the complete outline of the choreography. And you were proud because you genuinely liked what you had created together.

Even though you were extremely tired, looking at the short clips you recorded made your face lit up. 

The choreography was hard but matched the energy of the song perfectly.

“We should stop for today and work on the details starting from tomorrow. Then we’ll have five days to make it perfect.” You suggested, knowing that the hard work will start from tomorrow on. 

You both knew that the hardest part about this collaboration was yet to come so you agreed on having one last relaxing evening before hell would break out. 

“I could drive you home.” Yunho suggested as you walked out of the building. But you politely declined. “I like the walk back home.” You said, waving as you turned around. 

Well technically your way home was really long and quite exhausting, maybe even a bit scary this late, but you wanted to keep a little distance. You had already caught yourself staring at him for a bit too long sometimes and definitely didn’t want that feeling to get bigger. It was just so fascinating when he was dancing. You hadn’t felt this way in a while as you watched someone dance, so you figured that was why you got a little excited.

But you liked how it was right now. And you really wanted to keep this professionalism. How hard could that be?

“What’s wrong with us today?” You nervously laughed as you stood up to get into a normal position. It was the third time in a row that both of you couldn’t stay serious, immediately breaking into shy laughter as soon as you looked each other in the eyes. 

Oh you had been so wrong. How hard could that be? You were internally laughing at yourself. Incredibly hard. 

You thought the chances were low because you could stay in character. Just as good as Yunho. But you both seemed a little off.

“I have no idea.” Yunho laughed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

Giving up on that one particular scene, you continued with the rest of the choreography. And you got through that pretty well.

But you knew that something was off. You weren’t as concentrated as always. You caught yourself staring off into nothing and randomly losing focus way too many times in one day. And that was really scratching your productivity. 

“Maybe we should take a break.” Yunho suggested, making your cheeks heat up. But you just nodded in embarrassment. You were the main problem, and that was a problem for you. 

“Come on! Why isn’t this working?!” You groaned, repeating one of the moves for the 100th time. But it was still not giving you the effect you wanted. 

After finishing practice with an unsatisfied feeling yesterday, you wanted to make extra effort today. But that resulted in you getting upset over that one specific move you just couldn’t get right. 

“No no Y/n, a little more like this-“ Yunho demonstrated your already most hated movement of the month. But you couldn’t get it again. It was already late and you didn’t want to make him stay. It wasn’t his fault that you were failing. You were upset with yourself, not with him, so why make him stay?

“Yunho I think you should go home. It has no use. I don’t think that I will get it right any time soon..” You forced up a smile while lifting your head. But Yunho only tilted his head.

“But I have this bad feeling that you won’t sleep if I go now.” 

Bullseye. You were frustrated. You knew you shouldn’t let it out on him but..

“And what if I don’t? What are you? My mom?” You asked, surprising yourself at how annoyed that came off. You threw your towel against the bench, already feeling your anger rise. He needed to leave, or else this wouldn’t end very nice. 

“Sorry that wasn’t.. please just go home.” You were suppressing the tension in your voice, avoiding eye contact on purpose. 

“But you should-“ “I should what?! God Yunho. Just. Leave me. Alone.” 

You had turned around faster and abrupter than you actually wanted, making him flinch. He didn’t want to do any harm. And seeing his hurt expression made you want to apologise right away. But something inside of you couldn’t. 

Instead you just quietly watched him pack his back and walk out of the room with a “I’ll see you tomorrow…”

You had fucked up. And you knew that. But that didn’t stop you from doing exactly what he thought you would. 

You stood up all night, repeating the choreography again and again. Sure, it was harder alone but you felt freed because you didn’t have to worry about burdening someone. 

But that also made you forget to sleep.. or to drink. 

When Yunho showed up the next morning, finding you in the same clothes as yesterday, he sighed. He knew it.

You on the other hand were not really tired. Once you had survived that tiredness at about 4am, staying awake was quite easy. And it’s not like it would be the first time you worked through a whole night. 

And Yunho let it slip. Because it actually helped. You had overcome your problem and now 98% of the choreography was set perfectly. Just without Yunho. The missing variable. 

This day was rather productive. You went out to eat, meeting one of your co-workers from your part time job which caused a pretty embarrassing “who is that cutie” situation and got pretty far in your progress. And you promised Yunho to sleep when he left. 

But you kinda lied. Because you stayed up all night. Again. 

“Oh! Good Morning y/n! Why are you here so early? I’m usually fir-“ Yunho stopped talking as soon as you turned around. You looked beyond tired. 

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” His face immediately got serious, slowly getting closer to you.

You looked at the ground. You somehow couldn’t look him in the eyes. It felt like you were a little kid and he caught you stealing candy. 

“Listen Y/n.” Yunho’s voice was loud and steady as he grabbed you by your shoulders. You instantly looked up, finding his face right in front of yours. 

“This is a collaboration. It has no use when you can do the choreo on your own. We have to do it together.” He said, looking into your eyes way too intense. You felt ashamed but at the same time didn’t want to acknowledge that what you did was wrong. 

“But it obviously didn’t help when you tried to show me! And now I have the moves down so what’s your problem?” You responded, looking at him with the same intensity.

You shouldn't be fighting. You should just go back to to practice and let it slide. But you couldn’t help but stare at each other. You couldn’t see what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable and the silence between you two started to get more tense with every second. 

It was the moment you felt your eyes wander from his eyes to his lips and back that made you realise that you should definitely stop. You just didn’t notice him doing the same.

“I- we should just continue.” You said, your voice shaking as you broke the eye contact and turned around. But Yunho was definitely not letting you get away with that. You felt him grab your arm, turning you around. But before you could protest, you felt his lips pressed against yours.

Your eyes widened when you realised what he was doing. Why? How? Right now? Suddenly? Yes you had thought about this. Yes you had stared at his lips way too often but what? You didn’t-

You tried to push away as you felt those little annoying butterflies in your stomach but he didn’t let you. You couldn’t like him.. that would only end in problems. But his lips felt so good..

“Was it so bad?” Yunho chuckled as he gently pulled away from you. But you were way too overwhelmed to say anything. Instead you just managed to shake your head. 

Did that really happen? You looked up into his eyes, only to see a soft smile on his lips. 

“I guess we should start practicing now huh?” He laughed gently as he straightened his posture. And you didn’t know what drove you but now you weren’t gonna let him get away with it. He wanted to kiss you? Well then he should at least do it properly. 

“Bad.” You just whispered before grabbing him by his collar and pulling him close. “Come on. You can do better than that.” You smirked before pressing your lips against his again.

And he did better. It didn’t take long until you were pressed against the mirror, hands in his hair, legs around his waist. His lips tasted better than anything you ever had and his big hands that were holding you up were giving you an incredibly safe feeling.

“Fuck..” Yunho mumbled when you pressed your body against his. Your hips slipped a little further down, suddenly hitting something.. hard.

“Are you..?” You asked, looking down his body and up to his red face again. 

He just nodded, instantly letting go of you and turning around. “Sorry.. I didn’t mean to ehm get too invested haha..” He laughed nervously as he took a step back. “Let me go.. to the toilet real quick?” He took big steps to the door when he suddenly heard a thud behind him.

You had wanted to stop him and tell him that it’s alright but when you took a step forward, your vision suddenly got blurry. And then black. A thought shot through your head as your legs gave in. When was the last time I drank something?

You woke up to Yunho shaking your shoulder and as soon as you opened your eyes, he threw a water bottle at you. 

“I told you.” He just said while helping you get up. Looking at the clock showed you that you were only “gone” for about 10 seconds or so but your head was screaming at you as if you drank 6 bottles of soju. Alone.

You swore under your breath while shoving the water down your throat, feeling the headache getting worse already.

“Ok. You sit down on the bench now and monitor me. Get rest.” Yunho said in a stern voice while he began to stretch.

As soon as he started stretching, your mind went on a journey. Did that really happen? Or was it a dream? You still had the picture in front of your eyes, how he was holding you up against the glass, how he was pressing his lips on yours. But there were no signs of it happening. 

“Earth to Y/n, I’ll start now so watch.” Yunho interrupted your thoughts, making you watch him. You sat there for a while, head in the clouds, before you shook your head and interrupted him. He stopped mid movement and tilted his head.

“You’re right Yunho.” You murmured, eyes on the ground. “We only have tomorrow left since the competition is the day after. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. Now I’m all exhausted and we don’t have enough time to make it perfect.” You felt horrible. Maybe it was the fact that you were heavily dehydrated but you were miserable. You would both fail and it was your fault.

Yunho had kneeled down in front of you and put one hand on your shoulder. “We can win this.” He said with a certainty you couldn’t explain. “I want you to go home now and rest. And I will drive you. No discussion." And you didn’t complain. You were tired. He had helped you pack your things before you went down, got in his car and left.

You don’t remember what happened after but you somehow ended up in your warm and comfortable bed.

The next day went by quickly. You met up. You practiced. You ate. You practiced. All the tension from before seemed to have disappeared in thin air, making you question if his lips on yours had really been a dream. But that was good. Because by sunset you both laid on the floor in your own sweat. Done. You couldn’t believe you had finished your choreography, nor could you believe that the stage was tomorrow. You looked over to your right where Yunho was laying. It was all thanks to him. 

Without him and his flowery personality you probably would’ve gotten more and more frustrated to the point of giving up. But now you were finished. It was complete. You felt complete. And as Yunho turned his head to smile at you, you felt thousands of butterflies in your stomach.

“The next team is Yunho and Y/n.” You heard the announcer through one of the speakers. It was time. You had decided to wear something simple. White shirt on white slacks. As you made your way up to the stage, your hands began to shake. Fuck you were rarely nervous, why now? 

However, all your nervousness disappeared as Yunho took your hand. Yes you weren’t alone, but somehow it felt good to have someone by your side.

“Let’s win this together!” He said in a calm but reassuring tone before you got into position to start. You nodded firmly. And then the music started. Electricity ran through your veins as you danced by his side. Everything around you was floating, you saw everything in slow motion. Every touch felt light and every move was effortless. Your breath was calm. And suddenly it was over.

If someone asked you about your performance afterwards you wouldn’t be able to say a thing. You remembered nothing except for the first beat of the song hitting your body. 

You were breathing heavily as your surroundings cleared up. Everything got louder, brighter, faster. You looked over to your partner. His eyes were sparkling as he scanned the crowd. You couldn’t help but smile. Oh how you loved this man.

Oh how I- you realised your own thoughts when the first jury started to speak. 

Your final score was 98.7. The best so far but there was one more team coming up after you. While you were sitting in the waiting room, watching the last team’s performance you remembered the thought you had on stage.

Love. Such a strong word. Then you looked over to Yunho who was getting water for the both of you. You hadn’t talked to him after you got off stage. When he asked if you wanted water you simply nodded before sitting down. Your competitors were strong. But not as good as you and Yunho were. 

He sat down next to you, giving you a cup, while the score of the last team was announced. Your heart was racing. You gulped down the whole cup. 

97.4.

You won.

In the one second it took you to realise what happened, Yunho had already picked you up and swirled you around. And right when he stopped, it settled. You had won.

Without a single thought in your head you pressed your lips onto his. You had won and it was all thanks to him. He was perplexed at first but kissed you back quickly. A rush of happiness struck your body as you buried your hands in his hair. Even as you separated, your eyes were locked with his. You needed to tell him.

“I love you Yunho.” You whispered, not sure if you said it loud enough. His eyes widened. “I-“ he stuttered. You could see the realization on his face as it lit up.

“I love you too!” You were blinded by the brightness of his smile as he spun you around again. But then you were interrupted by a sudden announcement.

“Congratulations Yunho and Y/n. You successfully made it into the last round of our competition!”

Last round? This should have been the last round! You opened your mouth in shock. Yunho was still holding you tight as you looked at him in horror, hearing the next sentence.

“Prepare to fight. Your next and last challenge is to compete with each other.”

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Tags:

@jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

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[lunar-eclipse-bunnies]

NINJAGO TAROT DRAFT IVE HAD FOR 8 MONTHS imagine them as either just designs or with deeper meanings, i'm too tired to do a lot of analysis but i Am Right. prefacing this with YES i have character biases, and YES they are present here<3 its my blog ill post what i want (no i will not be tagging the characters i rag on i do not want to be bothered about them)

The Fool - lloyd. not that lloyd is a fool, but he is the blank slate, the character written to be of infinite opportunity. he can be reckless and innocent, naive and idealistic, gullible but free. even this late into the series his sense of self continues to change and evolve, never settling in a single place; the upright is young lloyd, our youthful and ignorant protagonist. the reverse is current lloyd, weighed down by the actions of not only his father, mother and uncle, but himself. his card should have 2 panels, one with babey lloyd and the other with older lloyd. maybe juggling his friends' elemental symbols, just for spice. spicy clownery.

The Magician - this is jay, hands down. i'm picking things/characters based on upright and reversed meanings, and while jay debuts as an determined and powerful character, he slips pretty quickly into the card's reverse meaning, often utilizing "manipulation, cunning, and deception" to get his way. most of the time it is subtle, as his manipulative tendencies have been slowly elaborated on over the course of the series. he can be summoning lightning or something with his card.

The High Priestess - skylor. again, the reverse is past skylor, during her brief betrayal, and the upright is present skylor, a wise ally and friend. i want her in her father's snake hat and in his chair. thank u

The Empress - misako, purely for the reverse meaning. i dont care about her so her card can be whatever

The Emperor - garmadon, same reason and also gotta match with the (ex) wifey! give my guy garm his 4 arms too pls

The Hierophant - kai. source: just trust me bro

The Lovers - pixal & zane, duh. they literally share zane's fighting skill after she receives half his heart in season 3, she and he are inseparable (re: essentially headmates) for the following 4 seasons, and are often depicted as the healthiest "het" couple in the show. they are DEVASTATED when they lose each other, their sense of balance. they're in love your honor damnit. HAVE THEM EMBRACE.

The Chariot - the bounty. mostly because it represents a home for the ninja for a good while in the show and is the only real space they can enact control and their wills on for a while. also because the significance of the bounty crashing in season 8 really encompasses the reverse meaning. just replace the chariot w the boat in the card.

Strength - cole. not just because of his super strength, but because he is the MOST compassionate and brave character in this entire goddamn show. say what you will but cole has been through death and back, dropped from a hundred story drop, lost his friends, his sensei, his best friend, AND had to resurrect his mother's legacy with his bare hands. this man has never once been shown to back down from a cause, take the coward's way out, or plain give up because he's the most tied to this ninja morality. when cole is disheartened, he takes it out on himself, gets mad at HIMSELF, never on other people like jay, kai, lloyd and even nya are prone to. give my boy a goddamn break. please let him chill w rocky in his card :) maybe give him his lava arms tho

The Hermit - WU DUH. meaning fits but also his card should have him drinking tea with a three-way split panel behind him showing off the places he found his students. good day

The Wheel of Fortune - cloud kingdom. cloud kingdom. damn those nerdy little bastards.

Justice - AKITA AKITA. karmic justice ring a bell, anyone? we can weigh her mask on the scale or something, just let her have her moment :)

The Hanged Man - yallre gonna hate me but this is actually zane. sacrifice is the NAME of the card. he keeps sacrificing himself, even when it ISNT needed. would love it if his card had him tied to the forbidden spinjitzu scroll, that would be pog

Death - morro. HA u thought you could escape him lol no. have him be bitchass. maybe show his ghost hanging around his skeleton or something. make it green

Temperance - ... ronin. i had some trouble with this, but i think this card captures him pretty well.

The Devil - Harumi. mostly because i already drew her a card, but also because of the reversed meaning.

The Tower - the great devourer. i think thats explanation enough.

The Star - ... benthomaar. am i jsut adding the jade ninja characters at this point? yes, yes i am. do they still fit? aboslutely. give my guy bentho a FUCKIN crown

The Moon - ECHO ECHO PLEASE. deception? illusions??? thats their bread and goddamn butter!!!! PUT THE LIGHTHOUSE AT NIGHT IN THEIR CARD, YOU COWARDS!!!

The Sun - vania. vania. vania. vania. will i elaborate? no!

Judgement - pixal, hands down. calm evaluation? being highly aware of yourself???? thats just pix, babey!!! and the reverse, FUCK, self doubt,,,, she rarely has those moments but!! when she DOES!!! AHHHHHH/POS

The World - NYA NYA NYA. NYA IN HER ELEMENTAL FORM HEAR ME OUT GUYS. in the upright meaning its her early season self, doing well on her own, achieving and succeeding and being fulfilled, and the reversed is her skybound to present self, stagnating as a character, no longer succeeding on her own or through her own means. the card also has to do with cycles, and considering how many times nya has died or been forced to change, well. who else would this card be???

[allegra-writes]

"The Great Escape"

Part two

"Hopeless Romantic" Part IV

Prev | Next

Dark!Billy Russo x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Canon typical violence, toxic relationship. This is a darkfic series, Billy and Reader are both pretty fucked up people.

This has been sitting in my drafts for AGES, but life got in the way, and then the December rush at work, which is pretty much hell, started and well... I apologize if this is a little raw, the truth is I don't have the time to rewrite it like I wanted to, but I fear if I don't post it now, I'll never will. There's still an epilogue left where things will get tied more nicely, but for now, I apologize, and leave you with this.

"It's crazy when

The thing you love the most is the detriment

Let that sink in

You can think again

When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and

You're nothin' but skin"

Graveyard - Halsey

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

"Don't do anything stupid, Billy, let her go…"

Frank's voice was low and even, the same tone one would use to try to calm down a rabid dog, a far cry from the guns blazing, take-no-prisoners way he had first barreled into the warehouse. His eyes flitted to yours, fear and concern written all over them, silently cataloguing every mark, every visible bruise, from the hickies on your neck to the scratches on your thighs, barely covered by your dress and Billy's jacket, going over your wrists, red and chaffed from the zip tie. You held his gaze, trying to convey that you were ok, but could feel your own eyes fill with tears as you realized you couldn't reassure him, couldn't tell him they didn't mean what he thought… Because Billy had, in fact, done exactly what Frank was fearing all along.

Despite your resolve, despite everything you had told yourself, you started to crumble, the sight of your friend there to rescue you chipping at your fragile veneer of control. Everything in you screamed to go to Frank, to get to safety, and you could, if you used the gun tucked inside your coat -Billy's coat- and pointed it at Billy. You knew he would not shoot you.

But you also knew that doing so would mean leaving Billy exposed and unprotected to face Frank's wrath. Your friend was practically vibrating with barely contained fury, if he got his hands on Billy there was no way he was getting out of that warehouse alive.

And, heavens help you, despite everything he had done, you didn't want Billy to die.

So you tried to hold on, to tug at the frayed edges of determination Billy's half formed plan had given you and pulled yourself together.

It almost worked.

"I could tell you the same thing, Frankie. Let us through" Your kidnapper demanded, his grip on you tightening, "She doesn't have to get hurt. Just put down your weapon, and let us through"

Frank tsked,

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Bill. You gonna have to let her go"

"Or what?" Billy taunted him, "Hmm? What are you gonna do? Shot me through her? Cause you might be the fucking Punisher, but between you and me, you know who the best marksman is"

You watched the muscles in Frank's jaw lock, undoubtedly remembering Billy's rank of expert, while he himself had only been awarded with a sharpshooter badge. Once upon a time, it had been a subject for teasing and laughter between the two friends over beers at a barbecue, now it could be the deciding factor, the match point deciding which one of them lived and which one died.

Frank was clinging to his last scraps of his self-control too, you could see it, a rabid dog about to break from his leash. You needed to pull him back.

"Frank… please" You begged, allowing all your fear, all your anguish to bleed into your voice, letting your friend believe it was fear for your own life "He promised. He promised to let me go once he's out of the city"

He barked a bitter, disbelieving laugh.

"And you think he will keep his word? Y/N, you don't know… you haven't seen his diary from the Hospital. What he really wants, more than my head, more than anything else in the world, is to keep you"

Billy went rigid at your back, you might not know what Frank was talking about, but he definitely did.

"Well, then, Raven" You felt Billy shrug, feigning nonchalance, "I guess you just called my bluff…"

Frank didn't reply.

"I guess you also know now, that if you want to take her" Billy emphasized his words with a quick peck to your temple, "away from me, you will have to pry her from my dead, cold hands"

A nasty smirk curled your friends lips.

"I'll be happy to"

"Oh, I know you would be" Your lovers chuckled, darkly "The real question here is, are you willing to risk her getting caught in the crossfire?"

For the first time that evening, you saw doubt flash through Frank's eyes. You sobbed, releasing all your warring emotions at once, tears freely falling down your face now. You were laying it a little thick, but you had to convince him. You had to, for both of them.

"Please… Frankie, please… don't do this"

He gulped, visibly conflicted, looking from you to Billy, brain working hard to find a way to get to the man who had betrayed him twice now without putting you in harm's way, until finally, his stance seemed to relax, as he slowly, very slowly lowered his gun.

And you could have almost believed him, almost believed he was surrendering for your sake… If you hadn't caught his eyes' flickering to your left.

Billy was too busy staring Frank down, but out of the corner of your eye you caught a flash of movement. You shifted in Billy's arms, turning just enough to see her, a tall woman in tactical gear, blending almost seamlessly to the shadows, steely eyes -and gun- fixed on Billy.

You had always thought slow motion and sudden epiphanies we're a bad cliché that only existed on the screen. Two tours to Afghanistan exposed to limit situations almost daily had taught you there was no such thing as an empyrean moment of peace and clarity in the face of imminent death. Later, you would rationalize it as your perception playing tricks on you, as your reacting so fast, the world around you seemed to freeze in comparison. Curtis would rationalize it as violent emotion, or even Stockholm syndrome, keeping a close enough eye on you that you would start to feel suffocated instead of protected. Jess, iron-willed Jess, would simply tell you you did what you had to do to break free.

None of those explanations would ever ring completely true to you.

But as you saw the safety of the woman's weapon unlock, your hand flew with preternatural speed to your own, and you fired twice, before the searing, burning pain exploded, and the world turned black.

…

Consciousness came back to you in waves, brief moments of sensation and sound before the darkness pulled you back under. You didn't fight it, didn't try to shake it off you, your body was too damaged to even allow your mind to do so much as stir. It was blissful, the silence inside of you, the peaceful rest, so much so you almost rebelled against the spark of awareness, of self, as you started to wake up.

But there was something out there, just beyond your reach, a presence, a voice, female and comforting and familiar, softly coaxing you into coming back, into opening your eyes, into that's it… just a little bit more, you're almost there… come on, hun, we're all waiting for you here…

The bed was the first thing you recognized, too firm, coarse sheets too stiff where you laid on them, they felt unpleasant, almost irritating against your skin, but your body was too heavy to try and do anything about it. You weren't even sure you could make your arms function enough to throw the covers off you.

The second thing was the identity of the person at your bedside. In hindsight, it took you embarrassingly long to realize what was going on. After all, it wasn't the first time you came to feeling as if a double decker bus had run you over in a sterile hospital room, with your favorite co-worker gently inducing you to sip some water through a soft straw.

"Claire?" An affirmative hum answered you. "Wha-" Your mouth felt like sandpaper, Claire made you drink a bit more before letting you try again.

"What happened?"

"You shot a homeland agent," Was that a hint of amusement under the exasperation in your friend's voice? "And then, you shot yourself"

You remembered then, eyes flying open to the harsh fluorescent lights. The woman, Billy, Frank, the impossible situation you had been in.

"Oh…"

Claire raised an eyebrow,

"Oh? That's all you have for me?"

"How's the agent? Why am I not, you know" You tried to shrug, but the immediate pang of pain in your abdomen told you it wasn't a good idea, "handcuffed to the bed right now?"

"Dinah Madani, that's the agent you shot, is ok now. She needed surgery too, you destroyed her kneecap" She explained, and if you hadn't known her any better, you would even think she was impressed, "Luckily, she didn't press charges. She said she wasn't going to let another innocent woman pay for Billy's crimes"

Was that what you were doing? Paying the price for Billy's misdeeds? He had drugged you, kidnapped you, abused you, yet you had preferred to shoot yourself before letting Frank…

Claire took your hand, squeezing gently to bring you back from whatever downward spiral your thoughts had taken you. She had always read you so well, you wondered, not for the first time, if she didn't have some kind of gift too.

"Why did you do it?" She didn't have to say it, with her big eyes glistening with tears, you knew exactly what she was talking about, "You scared the crap out of us. Luke is at the cafeteria, the only way we could convince Jess to leave was to tell her we would need her to take a shift later so we could keep you under vigilance around the clock. I sent Matt home, but I'm sure his alter ego is out there on a roof somewhere, watching the building…

What I'm trying to say, sweetie, is that you have us. Whatever happened, you have us, we-" She tried to swallow the catch in her voice, clearing her throat before trying again, "We'll help you get through this"

You could feel your own tears threatening to slip out at your best friend's vehemence.

"I didn't- I wasn't… I don't wanna hurt myself" You tried to reassure her.

"Then why did you do it?"

You looked away. Would she understand? Would any of them? Jess had killed Killgrave, with no remorse. Matt had sacrificed himself, yes, but had put a stop to his deranged lover, even if it had broken his heart. And Frank, good god, what would your brother say? Was your name on his long list of traitors now too?

"It was the only way" You finally said, "The only way to force Billy to run and leave me behind, the only way to stop Frank from going after him… No matter how badly he wants Billy's head, I knew he wouldn't leave me to bleed out all alone…"

Of all the reactions you could have expected from Claire, the soft but firm way she wrapped you up in her arms was not one of them.

"Y-you're not mad at me?" You hated how small you sounded. Claire's incredulous scoff was muffled against your hair.

"Of course not. You're not a killer, nightingale. An idiot, sure" you snorted. "But you're not a killer…"

Claire was like you, trained almost to the point of conditioning to save lives, not take them. You knew as much as the city admired the Punisher, she didn't approve of his methods. Granted, she probably didn't wholly approve of yours either, but she wasn't judging you, and her support, her unconditional reassurance and comfort had lifted an unbearable, asphyxiating weight off your chest. You stayed like that, just leaning into each other, for what could been a few minutes or a few hours, letting go of everything, letting the tears flow and wash away the stress of the last few days, safe and free at long last, secure in the knowledge that, in the improbable case Billy or one of his minions tried to snatch you up again, they would have to get through a small army this time.

You tried to shackle and bury the part of you that rebelled, trashing and screaming, at the thought.

Next part

[coollemonsaresour]

Promising Hands

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Child reader x Romanrogers  

Warnings: blood, Injured child, violence, angst, but fluff. THIS SUCKS, it was a rush job, and is not edited 

Summary: One Red-head Russian, One Cool Ranch Dorito, and a mission that can change their lives forever.

Word count :1458

A/N:  Spare me I have not written in awhile.  this has been in my drafts i have just be to S H Y to post them. oh, and request are open.

Request?: NAH!!!!!!!!!!! DIS WAS ALLLLLL MEH .  Spare me i have not written in  awhile. 

“Steve this floor is clear, I'm moving to  Sub-level one.” The Russian spy said, pressing and releasing the button on her earpiece. “Okay, be careful.” She then rolled her eyes with a scoffed and pressed her earpiece. “When am I not?” She said, continuing down the flight of stairs. “I can think of a couple of times,” he said in a seductive voice. “You know what Rogers, I have work to do, you should do the same. “Whatever you say” she then turned “Mmhmm'' she said with her guns raised starting down a hallway. She then came in contact with two hydra agents but shot them down effortlessly, each three times. Head. Chest.Stomach. She then saw a light flicker in a room down the hallway with its’ door cracked open.

 She walked down the hallway and pushed the door open with her gun ready for any danger. The room looked like a messy lab, things were everywhere, the computers were destroyed, chemicals and serums spilled on the table as if they were in a rush. 

 An agent then came behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck, making her drop her gun. Nat countered by elbowing him in his face and then kicking him in his chest through a glass table, then grabbed her gun. When he attempted to get up she shot him twice in the stomach. 

She then heard a gasp and snapped her attention toward the sound raising her gun once more. She then slowly proceeds toward the table. She leaned over the table and looked under it to see a little girl about 3 or 4 with her knees curled up to her chest and her head buried in her crossed arms. 

 “Hello,” Natasha said in a calm and friendly tone, which is very unlikely for this assassin. The child then looked up and flinched trying to scoot back farther. When she backed against the wall, she snapped her focus back at the women. 

 Her e/c eyes were met with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, which were comforting. She gasped when she saw Nat’s gun. “H-hey, it’s’ okay, I won’t hurt you,” Nat said, putting her gun into the holster.  “What is your name?” She asked the girl “Y/n” the child responded barely above a whisper.”That is a beautiful name, I’m Natasha, now let's get you somewhere safe.” 

 “N-no more b-bad people?” The little girl asked, voice is full of insecurity. “No more bad people,” Nat said reassuringly. “You promise?” “I promise” “How can I trust you?” “We promise to protect you from bad men always, and if you give me your hand I promise to never let it go, Okay?” “Okay,”  

At the moment, Nat knew that she was immediately attached to the wounded girl. What wounded girl!?! Nat was too distracted by the girl to realize the blood-soaked shirt and the growing crimson pool around the girl. Without hesitation, Nat grabbed the little girl and rushed out of the room.  “ Hey Steve I found Hydra’s project and she needs medical help.” “She?... It’s a person?” “Yes and she needs medical evac, keep up Steve.”  

The little girl wrapped her arms around Nat’s neck and her legs and her waist. When they got outside the little girl buried her face in Nat’s neck to avoid the blinding light in the sky that was unknown to her, Nat could help but think of how cute the sight was.  

Nat felt the body go limp and started to run faster. When she reached the quinjet, Nat carefully laid the unconscious girl on the floor and then examined the little body. The little girls were very pale, hardly breathing, and had lost a lot of blood, multiple cut wounds, a very big and deep stab wound. It looked like someone tried to kill her, in the mist of their base being invaded.

 Nat found a cloth and started applying pressure while Steve flew the jet as fast as he could. With one hand Nat tried to stop the bleeding, and in the other she held the child’s hand, keeping her promise.  

 When they arrived, Nat ran with the little girl straight to med bey, there she found Bruce, who was talking to Dr.Cho. “Hey Na- who is that?” he asked immediately getting a gurney. “Hydra’s project, and she needs help,” Nat stated, placing the girl on the bed, still holding her hand. “Bruce, help her please, she stopped breathing like a couple of seconds ago.” she said still holding the girl’s hand, following the gurney down the hall toward the O.R. when they reached the doors of the room nat was stopped by a nurse, the sudden action causing her to let go of the girl's hand.    

“ No I have to stay with her.” she said, trying to push past the doctor.“ Ma’am you should let the doctors do their work.” the nurse said, trying to block the doorway. Nat was getting angry, and trust me you do not want to make Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow angry. “ No she needs me. I have-,” “Ma’am, please, listen to me-” “ NO! You listen to m-” “ Sorry nurse, I’ll take it from here” Steve said, cutting off Natasha and pushing her away from the door  to a wall in the hallway.   

“Steve, babe, no, I-i h-have to be in there, I-i need, i need to hold her hand,” Steve looked at her with a sad expression “She was scared, and I know what it is like at that age, when your in a situation you don’t want to,  a-and have horrible people do bad things to you and make you do bad, bad things.” she stated with worry.  

Steve gave her a small smile and then pulled her into a hug. He knew that she was referencing the red room, and how she hated what they did to kids at such a young age and how it was scarring. “Nat, everything will be fine,” he said, stroking her hair, all she did in response was give a nod. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get something to eat and come back down, and I will be here when they finish with her in the recovery room.” he said pulling away from the hug, she just nodded again and walked down the hall.   

When Nat came back down to MedBay, (y/n) was out of o.r., and in recovery. She walked into the room to see the girl connect to all different monitors, an IV, and a breathing tube in her nose. Steve was asleep on the armchair next to the bed with one of his hands resting on top of one of the girl’s. That made Nat smile softly. 

 She was walking around the room reading Bruce's analysis, and that's when Steve woke up. “You look refreshed” he said stretching, his voice still groggy.  “Yeah after showers, eating, and debrief, I was really tired, and took a cat nap,” she said, kissing his forehead. “How’s she doing?” Nat said, holding the girl's other hand. “M’kay, but my tummy hurts.” the girl said with a small smile, Nat and Steven happily returning  it.  

That a was 4 and half months ago 

 Y/n woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavy, and tears streaming down you  face. A bad dream. The small girl got out of bed and walked down the hall.  Three doors down, make a left, first door on the right.   

Being the trained ex-assassin/spy she is, as soon at the door opens she lifted her head to see who it was. “Y/n, hun, why are you up?” she said concern taking over her face.  “I had a bad dream” she whispered.  “M’sorry babes, do you want to sleep with me and daddy,” she asked giving the little girl grabby hands. The girl gave a small smile, and nodded her head, walked over to Nat’s side of the bed and climbed in. the girl got under the blankets and and cuddle closer to Nat and she held you tight, and buried your face in her chest.   

“я люблю тебя, детка” she planting a kiss to the girls forehead. “I love you too mama” the girl replied with a small yawn. Steve then rolled over, moving closer to the pair, wrapping a protective arm around Natasha and y/n.“ I love you y/n/n” he said. “I love you too daddy.” “My two favorite girls,” “Good night babe” he said to the redhead, giving her a kiss. “Good night baby.” she said, returning the kiss. “Good night y/n” they said at the same time, kissing your head. “Good night”. 

я люблю тебя, детка~ I love you Baby

FIN                                                

[chocoholicannanymous]

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Pt XVII

This is the penultimate part. The last one is written and drafted - I did finish while on vacation. Expect it for next weekend.

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, pt VI, pt VII, pt VIII, pt IX, pt X, pt XI, pt XII, pt XIII, pt XIV, pt XV and pt XVI.

It's as everything happens in May. Kurt feels as if he should be used to it by now, but this year is worse than any before. It's understandable, he guesses, what with it being his senior year, but understanding doesn't help. Some of the squares on his wall calendar has so many things on them they're barely legible, and there are days when he wants to just quit it all.

He can always work in his dad's garage for the rest of his life. Surely that's not the worst thing ever?

The only reason he's not a complete wreck when Nationals comes is the Warblers meeting held right after Regionals where David had used logic (how dare he) and suggested their approach to Nationals.

Kurt's first, immediate reaction is “we're never going to win with that” which he also says out loud, only to be met by “so what”.

“I don't say this lightly. I've been a Warbler for four years. It's been amazing to be surrounded by all of these talented people, and make music just because we like it, and that's why I've kept it up even with all the hints I've gotten that my 'future career' would be better served by me spending that time on learning another language or studying harder. After all, what use is singing and dancing for a lawyer?”

There's a bitterness in David's voice, and it's echoed in a number of murmurs around the room.

“This is the one thing I do for fun, that I do just for me, and some days the only thing that makes slogging through my mountain of homework bearable is knowing that once I'm done I can go enjoy Warblers. This year's group hold more talent of all my years here, which is why it hurts to say that I don't think we can win, no matter what setlist we go on with. We're simply not the kind of group that wins a contest like this.”

Which, probably true. The Warblers are good, yes, but they're an all boys a capella group performing in uniforms. They don't have the productions that teams who wins Nationals do. Doesn't mean that it hurts just as much to hear as it hurts to say.

“The truth is – and I'm sorry, I know we don't talk about him, but I have to – the truth is that we didn't even compete before Blaine.”

Kurt expects it to sting to hear his name. It does, but not much. He's moving past that.

“Blaine walked in here and wanted to compete so badly. He spent his first semester here trying to talk us into trying, even with all the reasons we had for not going so, and he got his way. That doesn't change the fact that this is only our second year competing, and we've surpassed all expectations by making it to Nationals.  To do so again and win, or even place in the top... I don't think we can do that, not even with all the talent in this room.”

No one likes hearing that, but no one's disagreeing either. They aren't going to win. That's just how it is.

“So why not do that we like? Why don't we pick songs we like and that showcases our strengths? Why don't we sing a song that will make you happy, Kurt? And if it knocks us down in the ranking to do so, who cares? I don't.”

To hear someone say that Kurt's happiness should matter more than placement – to hear David say it, after everything the year before – causes tears to well up in his eyes. To hear every single Warbler agree make those tears fall.

They'd walked out of that meeting stronger than they'd gone in, and Kurt lets himself gather strength from that memory for a few seconds before he steps forward and lets his voice soar.

“Something has changed within me, something is not the same / I'm through with playing by the rules, of someone else's game”

They finish eleventh. It's better than they'd dared to hope, with all the absolutely excellent teams competing. It the joy is tinged with a little bitterness? Who can blame them? Maybe, more than one of them wonders, a more conventional setlist could have placed them among the top ten. At the same time they're all aware that maybe it would have have placed them dead last. There's no way of telling, and no use speculating.

They did their best, enjoyed their performance and finished eleventh at Nationals. That's nothing to look down on. In fact...

“We did better than New Directions last year” Kurt says with a smirk.

They've beaten  his old team, his so-called friends, in every way possible and he allows himself to see that as a win.

Finn posts video of all their songs on his Facebook and is proud (and smug) enough to also post the “Defying Gravity” performance in the Glee group with a comment about how Kurt obviously could hit that note, tagging both Rachel and Mr Schue. It's petty, and Kurt should be big enough of a person to ask Finn to remove it, but no. If his brother wants to stand up for him Kurt isn't just going to let him, he's going to be grateful.

Feeling loved and protected is not something he's ever going to scoff at.

Nationals is followed by finals, the less said about the better, and then prom. Or well, “the Dalton Academy and Crawford County Day Joint Spring Formal”. Same thing right?

Wrong.

The spring formal is every thing junior prom wasn't. It's not really the fact that Sebastian asks Kurt properly to be his date for the formal, and compliments his outfit. It's not that even without decorations Dalton's auditorium is more grand than McKinley's gym. It's not even the grand dinner with lit candles, waiters and three courses before the dance or that there's a band that plays waltzes and foxtrot for the first two hours before the DJ is allowed to take over.

It's that even before they've entered the transformed dining hall Kurt spots half a dozen same-sex couples, a number that keeps going up during the evening. It's the fact that he gets to dance the whole evening, not in a group or with a girl, but with Sebastian and the occasional Warbler. Mostly it's Sebastian's arms he's in, and it's amazing.

It's so far from his junior prom and Blaine that it almost hurts.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. Everything is... This year everything is perfect.”

Sebastian doesn't look entirely convinced, but decides to drop it and instead lean closer for a kiss.

The evening really is perfect.

The morning of his birthday Kurt walks into the dining hall alone only to be met with a table full of Warblers that stand up and sing for him as soon as he clears the door. There's one place left at the table, next to Sebastian, set with the kind of breakfast not even Dalton serves (fresh croissant, strawberries, a piece of brie and a one-person pot of tea) with a rainbow rose in a vase. Kurt sits down with a smile and leans over to kiss his boyfriend's cheek.

“So, rainbow roses are going to be our thing, is it? I love it.”

He spends the day with a smile on his lips, because his boyfriend took the time to do something special for him on his birthday and his friends have promised cake in the Warblers' room after dinner, and he feels loved.

“Cake” turns out to be cheesecake and presents, and more singing, and so much more smiling. Afterwards Sebastian walks him back to his room. There's no kissing though, which Kurt finds unacceptable.

“Isn't there some kind of rule that you get kisses on your birthday? I would have thought that was a part of the boyfriend experience, and to be honest I'm feeling very much unkissed.”

That nets him a crooked smile, but still no kisses. It's almost enough to worry him.

“You can have all the kisses you want, and not just on your birthday, you know that babe. However, there's something else I wanted you to have first.”

Sebastian pulls out a small package from him pocket and hands it over with a smile, which begins to fade when Kurt doesn't immediately take it. It's just, well.

“Another present? You shouldn't have.”

“Another? What do you mean?”

The truth is that Kurt fully expected breakfast and a rose to be the whole of Sebastian's congratulations, and he doesn't quite know how to take getting more than that. He doesn't really know how to explain it though, and definitely not in a way that won't start Sebastian on another rant about how Blaine was unworthy of Kurt's affection. Especially since it's not just about him.

Turns out he doesn't need to say anything – and apparently he's getting yet another present in the form of the absence of that rant.

“Breakfast was a treat. This is your actual present, which I hope you'll like at least as much as that.”

Sebastian looks a little worried as Kurt removes the paper and opens the small box inside (and if he's a little shaky to open a jewelry box from his boyfriend no one needs to know). It's a pair of gorgeous cufflinks with just the right balance between classy and unique and he absolutely loves them.

“These are amazing! They're too much, really, but they're so gorgeous that I'm going to pretend they're not. I love them!” I love you. But that's a bit too early to say, and so instead he leans forward and does his absolute best to communicate exactly that through kissing.

[siimsroyalty]

Hey Everyone, i kind of wanted to jump in here real quick to let everyone know what's been going on over here since its been a hot minute since I've posted anything. To make a very long story short, i got depressed, my inspiration dried up, stopped playing the sims for a while then once i started to feel a bit better, my laptop broke. So i got a new one but then i found out the mouse i had was stuck in my old computer and wasnt coming out so now I'm currently waiting to buy a new mouse because its the end of the month and I'm broke as shit.

Story of my life,

Annnnywho while I'm waiting for that new mouse, ive been working on the written portions of my posts on my new computer so that when the time comes ill just take my screenshots, edit them and then post it. Theres currently like 26 posts in my draft all currently half written. In the meanwhile theres other things I'm working on that are currently half finished.

Character Bios

Linking my stories

Poses Packs

Thank you guys so much for your patience and understanding while ive been away. As soon as I can, I will be back to posting. 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

[kandadiff]

Runnin' with the Devil 1

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You watched your husband from your place on the couch and pulled your legs into your body in an attempt to warm them, your mind wandering to just a year ago. Where you were in the warm arms of Jay Park, spoiled with champagne and as much sweet things as you could fill yourself with. But now . 'Nothing like how it used to be,' You thought. You missed Jay, he made you laugh, not that you did much of that these days. How could you? When you were in the same house with your biggest enemy?

Your eyes wandered over to the massive ring that stood out on your finger, making your hand look even smaller then it already was. The huge diamond complimented by the other diamonds that rounded the rock, gold encasing their holding and a small red dragon engraved within the main diamond. It was no mistake what this ring truly symbolized. You belonged to him now, The Red Dragons and the Kwon Family.

Your mind floated to when the Red Dragon rescued you from the Brotherhood. You were with Jay on his arm at one of his lavish parties that he threw every year to keep the peace between the families that ran the state. Except instead of the night being filled with the sound of laughter from to much drinks and music from the DJ, it was swollen with blood and gun shots. At first it was Jay that grabbed you when he heard the first gun shot ring out into the air made by some hired man. He pushed you to his second in command, Jackson, and you were with Jackson for a long time until a bullet went through his chest and your face became streaked red. Another Brotherhood member, Chan Bang, grabbed you and seemed to bring you toward the masked intruders who in shock all you could do was watch as they shot down people like it was a sport. Most of them laughing as they did so. You fought against Chan, but maybe it was the excessive alcohol your drank that made you unable to get out of his iron grip or the fear of being next. One of Chan's close friends, Hyungjin brought Min and Suzy, a short bubbly girl and a baby faced angel of a girl who were dating another brotherhood member, and you watched as the masked man shoot both of them point blank as they begged for there life before he pointed the gun at you.

yA pop rang out in the air and instead of you going into the pile of bodies with Min and Suzy, it was the masked man. POP! Another one shot down Chan, you came loose from his grip as he fell into the piles. However before you could run the shooter grabbed you. "Let's go!" his voice was rough but his touch was gentle yet urgent. He led you through the ballroom avoiding the gunshots with skill, as though he was trained for this his entire life. You knew who he was, everyone did. Jiyong Kwon, son of YoungHwan Kwon leader of the Red Dragon's and next to take over. Once you were outside he rushed you into a car and drove as fast as he can while cops sped past him heading to the bloody scene which would later be called THE BALLROOM MASSACRE.

He brought you back to his lavish penthouse and brought a doctor (thats how you reconnected with me) to check on you and him. Physically, you were unhurt minus a few scratches but mentally- you were not. He suggested you stay with him for a few days until everything cooled down. And during that time, the news of the event, soiled your mind more and more everyday as more and more bodies were counted as dead. People you knew, people who you laughed with, cried with, loved. Gone. No news of what happened to Jay - you presumed he was dead. Only seeing Jackson on the TV, beat up and on crutches. Through all that Jiyong was there for you, one drunken night bringing you close, spilling secrets to each other with the only witness the fire that burned in the fireplace as you drank. Those few days turned into months and soon you found yourself in love with the man especially when he drafted another peace treaty with the other mafia families and excited those who killed at the Ballroom Massacre.

Which is how you ended up with two children babbling upstairs. You aren't sure how you became pregnant - not at first at least. You were careful or at least you thought you were. You used condoms, even had an IUD. But one day you were feeling nauseous and bloated and tender and he suggested going to the doctor. He made me come to the house and take blood, a few minutes later you found you were pregnant. And though Jiyong tried to hide it, we argued or were cold with each other every time we saw each other. 7 months later you gave birth to Anastasia Min-Lee Kwon and Apollo Taehyun Kwon and you were married at a huge ceremony in the city that was more protected then the royal family. But like all good things, that too must come to an end and thats when your life, which seemed to be going to well fell apart in your hands.

"About" stomach turned as you thought about that day only a week and a half ago. You sat in my house, a smaller less extravagant house then yours however the garden that surrounded it was a perfect place to sit. A gazebo gifted to us by Jiyong after I helped you after the massacre, is where we sat. Eating at the small table watching while, Marceline and Salem played with the babies, your nannies enjoying that they are getting a quick break in this picturesque area.

You smiled hearing the sound of your babies laughing, happy to hear it without your father in law interrupting the noise, you were about to comment on it when I interrupted your thoughts. "I wish I could have protected them better." Your eyebrow raised at the serious of my tone but before you could ask I spoke again "with Marcie mostly," I clarified "Salem - he doesn't know all that Marceline knows." I hadn't really gotten into what happened in the past before I showed up back in this town. But I left with a man named Negan and came back with a little girl and a friendship with Mr. YoungHwan Kwon and a body guard only known to you as Suga.

You weren't sure what to say so you said "We do all we can, you know. You're a good mother." You looked at me concerned seeing something clearly on my mind. "Whats wrong?"

"I'm sorry, adi." Confused you just looked at me waiting for me to explain. "I wished I could have protected you too."

Your mind flicked to the bloody mess of that night and you shook your head, in an attempt to stop thinking about it. "You couldn't have known, you weren't even there."

"I wished that I could have protected you from Jiyong," I said and your mind swirled in even more confusion. "I should have warned you when he took you from Jay. But I didn't want to believe he would do that- I was so stupid. Yoongi told me but I didn't believe him. Then when you got pregnant- Yoongi and me were trying to have Sunday. He was so happy when he first held him, I don't think ive ever seen him happier. The smile didn't leave his face for weeks and even now every time he speaks about the kids his face still lights up the same way it did all those years ago. He even tattooed there names on his chest, that was the first thing he did out of the hospital. I saw the same thing in Taeyang when he had his son, and in Bom and her husband; just pure unfiltered joy." You raised an eyebrow about to ask what that had to do with anything when I looked at you. "When I Jiyong told me you were pregnant, that look - wasn't there. It was something else; something darker, like he had just accomplished his master plan. Then I remembered you told me you had an IUD and you wore condoms. So after I took your blood, I went into your bedroom and searched until I found the condoms and went to the sink. I filled all of them with water and each one had holes in it. I told Yoongi about it and he questioned the other doctor on Jiyong's payroll - after about an hour with Yoongi he admitted to drugging your wine and taking it out."

Your heart sunk, no, your husband wouldn't do that to you. I was mistaken - it had to be some kind of joke. You shook your head but I nodded.

"Its true." I said "and he found out I knew, thats when you caught us arguing. He knew after getting you knocked up, you'd marry him. He pretended he was the perfect husband so why wouldn't you?" You looked down at your ring instantly feeling nauseous.

"Why didn't you say something?!" you shouted bitterly catching the attention of the nannies. I waved at them to continue and told you to stay quiet. "Why should I?!"

"Because he's listening." I said motioning to the ladies. One of them carried a small device pinned to her chest, it was supposed to be just a pin but I knew what they were. A little transmitter like Negan used to use.

You're heart beat fast in your chest and you forced yourself to be quieter. "why didn't you tell me?" I motioned once again to the kids. "Oh please, Jiyong wouldn't kill kids." I sighed and unfolded a small series of pictures. There you saw pictures - candid shots of mine and Yoongi's small family, shopping, eating, taking them to school along with a phone number written in Jiyong's district handwriting along with the words 'Keep my secret and ill keep yours'. "What does this mean? who's phone number is this?"

"Negan's." I said simply and before you can ask why can't he know I stopped you. "I didn't just leave Negan. I escaped from him, he wouldn't let me leave and he killed everyone who tried to help me or talk to me. His entire fucking compound is decorated with the body parts of people I used to be friends with. He wanted me to rely on him and only him. He wouldn't even let me out with Marcie without him. When I left he told me he'd kill Marceline in front of me if I didn't come back to him. For the next week he killed a woman every single day, just cause they sort of looked like me. The day I got out of that town he killed a woman and her son because he thought it was me and Marcie in disguise, the little boy was only 4 years old and he shot him in front of his mother and strung her up on a tree in the park. Imagine what he would do to them" I looked at the laughing children, "or Yoongi, I know if I ever see Negan again I'm dead but I'm not going to let him find out about anyone else."

For a while you were silent, sitting in the news that shattered your view of your once perfect family. "Why now?" You asked after a while.

"We're leaving - it's the only safe option and I want you to come with us. Take your children and come with us. You aren't safe there." I said and you let out a shaky sigh "Yoongi is the best at disappearing; we'll be untraceable." You heard the nannies in the distance telling the kids its time to go inside and I stood up. You eyes wandered to the children running towards you while the nannies, wheeled the baby carriages over towards us.

"Mommy!" Marceline shouted holding up a handful of flowers "Look!" The nannies approached at a quick speed, to quick for your liking; if you were going to meet me, how were your going to know where?

"Look like its time to go Mrs. Kwon" one of them said to you "Mr. Kwon is calling."

"Good;" I smiled acting as though I didn't drop that bomb on you. "Have a good trip home," I lifted your twins out of there carriage and kissed each on the cheek. "say goodbye to your aunt." My children wrapped there small arms around your legs shoving flowers into your hands and pockets, causing you to laugh and hug each of them. I hugged you tight and picked up a flower that fell from your pocket and put it in your hand where you felt the soft piece of paper wrapped smoothly around the stem. "I hope to see you soon."

Now a week and a half later you still had the piece of paper buried in the small flap under the felt of your jewelry box watching as Jiyong laughed with TOP at a show they were both watching wondering how your life got so fucked up.

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