#that doesn’t make this any less hard. i’ve been so close so many times

[plutonianplaything2]

Hello! Here are some life updates!!

- We still don’t know if my foot is *actually* broken so I’m getting an MRI done 🤭

- I’m on crutches

- It’s the last month (ish) of my second to last semester of school and I am on the verge of a breakdown (Yay!!!)

- Someone who I thought I was over has been consuming my thoughts the last few days and all I want to do is cry (yes, it IS Z in case you were wondering)

- I’m in pain and over being human!!! I wish I was a rock.

-I really, really need a hug.

-I’ve been taking my antidepressants consistently so my libido is down to 0 and that’s why I haven’t been posting (sex is starting to turn me off lmfao)

Come say hi, please be nice, I am tired and fed up and just want to be babied.

[daddys-radioactive-milk]

Not to be a pain in the ass, but the ghoul isn’t ugly? I feel like if some of the people acting like he’s so abnormal saw like a genuine ugly person they’d start crying.

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ cw ; fem!reader, reader is a soldier + shorter than jing yuan, referred to as wife (they are engaged), sfw

✮ wc ; 683

✮ a/n ; wrote this on my phone bc if i went on my laptop it would be a fic

“General is summoning you to his chambers,”

One of your roomates gives you a half-look of amusement as she ties her hair back with a black hair band.

“He’s calling on you a lot these days,” She says, pony tail swishing as she moves to sit on the edge of her bunk “How bad did you screw up last week for him to be this persistent?”

You stand to your feet, tossing a shirt at her with a look of disdain. Though her words irritate you, it’s probably better they believe in them.

“Shut up. I’m pretty sure he’s just looking for a chess partner since Master Diviner isn’t around,” You reply with a hint of annoyance “Knowing him it’s nothing important.”

“Perks of being unit captain,” Your other roommate adds sarcastically. You curse at them under your breath before leaving your room.

It’s late now, as you’re being led once again to the General’s chambers. The walls of the dormitory seem to close in like this, faintly illuminated by dimmed candlelight and the moon filtering in through the window.

The soldier instructed to guide you disappears once he’s knocked. You stand alone in the dark, waiting only moments before the door slides open to reveal General Jing Yuan.

He smiles at you bemusedly. You’re sure your feelings show on your face - an impossible furrow in your brows. You curl your hand to a fist, right hand over your heart with your eyes to the ground.

“General Jing Yuan, Sir.”

He leans against the door frame, a low laugh in his mouth.

“At ease, soldier. Come in,”

You avoid looking up at him as you cross the threshold of his door as you have so many times before. It slides closed behind you as the General sits on the edge of his desk.

“Why have you called me here, Sir?”

“I’ve called you here as my lover, not my Captain. No need for the theatrics.”

You sigh.

“I had a feeling. People are going to start being suspicious. And this is a gross misuse of your position.”

“Misuse, you say? How accusatory,” He tilts his head in amusement “Is it so wrong to want to see my beloved after hours?”

A flush fills you at that.

“It’s inappropriate as your subordinate, Sir.”

“You’re my lover before that. And my soon to be wife. This much is nothing.”

“You’re impossible to reason with.”

“Yes, yes. Now kiss me,”

You give him another look of disproportionate irritation but relent as you usually do. Jing Yuan is a strange man. His generally lackadaisical behavior is easy to adjust to. His penchants for being doted on less so. You walk over to him anyway, standing between his legs to give him a brief.

Perhaps you’re too foolish. He’s quick to draw his arm around your waist - a small smile on his features as he holds you to his body. He grins, leaning down to kiss you more tenderly. Longer and deeper and more foolhardy. He doesn’t kiss how you’d expect him too. It’s impassioned in a way that makes it hard for you to stand straight. Leaves you weakened, hands curled at his chest as he holds you.

He pulls away to place kisses on other parts of your face. Your cheek and the corners of your mouth and where your eyelashes meet your lids. He only pulls away entirely when you’ve laughed against your will.

“There it is,” He says, accomplished. You don’t bother suppressing it “Quite refreshing.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Most lovesick men are, are they not?”

You yield at his persistence.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only been engaged to one.”

He grins at that. “A shame you’ll never get to find out.”

“Any more than this will be difficult and annoying.”

“But this much is just fine?”

You sigh in faux exasperation.

“Yes. Just this much,”

Jing Yuan hums, dropping his chin on the top of your head with a contented hum.

“Really? I was wondering if I could make love to you before it became suspicious of you to return. Pity,”

“Jing Yuan!”

[casuallyimagining]

Selfish. || myg.

Less of Them - Two: Selfish.

NSFW. minors dni

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader Genre: arranged marriage au, established relationship, star-crossed lovers, angst, smut, fluff Word Count: 5,461

Summary: As the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.

Warnings: implied domestic abuse, controlling behavior, depression, arguing, a slap, blood, discovery of a dead body, murder

Notes: thank you to @oddinary4bts for beta-ing this

"I do know there are all kinds of barriers to love. I do believe the world needs less of them." - Lang Leav

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There’s a bustle in the castle that hasn’t been here for a year. It’s like the very stone–polished, whitewashed, ancient–is vibrating with excitement. After all, a royal wedding is an exciting time, and everyone must play their part. The cherry trees, hundreds of them across the property of the castle and in the castle town, are close to blossom. The merchants are busy building and sewing and crafting and baking. The stewards and keepers have cleaned the castle walls inside and out more times than can be counted.

You cannot find it in yourself to match their enthusiasm.

You stand on a pedestal facing a floor-length mirror, a seamstress on either side of you. They haven’t stopped touching you since they’d walked into the room. Slipping garments onto your body. Primping and adjusting the fabric so it lays just right. Measuring, pinning, tucking, tacking. The silk is heavy, like lead on your limbs, and they just keep layering it on. All of it is an elegant cream color–not white, despite tradition. Daniel had instructed the royal seamstresses. It was because of him, after all. White is too pure, too untouched.

Maybe, under different circumstances, worn by someone else, you would find the gown pretty. The silken fabric is soft and luxurious, a delicate floral pattern embroidered into the sleeves. The skirt is plain, but it flows well, and it’s a slightly richer color than the rest. There’s a small loop at the waist where a luck ornament will be attached. You haven’t seen it yet–the queen mother hasn’t yet presented it to you–but the handmaids have told you that it’s meant to bring many sons.

But honestly, you’ve avoided looking–really looking–at any of it, your focus solely on the leather toe of your shoe sticking out from under the fabric of your dress. You were never too mesmerized by your reflection, but now… It’s hard to reconcile what you see with what used to be there. Your hair is longer. You’ve lost weight. A bruise peeks out from under the collar of your dress. There’s a hollowness in your eyes, and worse, there’s a hollowness somewhere deeper. A meekness that you don’t recognize, but that’s been gnawing at the edges of you for nearly a year now. 

You don’t recognize yourself. You don’t want to recognize yourself.

“Have you seen him yet?” You hear one of the handmaidens ask as the seamstresses pin the fabric at your sleeve.

The other handmaiden groans softly. “I’ve been stuck inside all day. Kagha asked me to shine the silver.” Kagha is the stewardess of the castle, and she’s been running around like a crazy person of late trying to prepare for the wedding.

The first handmaiden leans closer to the other. You’ve seen her around, but you have no idea what her name is. “He’s gorgeous,” she whispers, so quiet you almost can’t hear.

“Shame he’s from the forest,” the second handmaiden laments, standing. Her arms are full of linen.

You hum. It’s been a long year. A lonely year. You’ve learned a lot, and you know you’ve done a lot of growing to meet the needs of the position you find yourself in. But that doesn’t mean that the path hadn’t been lonely. And you’d finally managed to convince Daniel to allow you to send a letter to your father, asking him to send you someone to serve in the castle.

Based on the handmaidens’ reactions, he’s sent Seokjin. 

It makes sense. Out of anyone your father could have sent, Seokjin is the most likely to fit in at the castle and in Castle Town. He’s charming and smart, and knows how to hold himself at court. And, more than anyone, Seokjin knows–or assumes–how careful one must be in this life, too. 

There’s an excitement bubbling in you that you haven’t felt in a while. Your step-brother. Here. Finally, a friend. You leave the seamstresses when they’re finished, an almost giddy bounce to your step. It leads you all the way to the King’s Council Chamber–if Seokjin is here, that’s where he’ll be. Daniel may not have greeted you on your arrival to the Ironhold, but he would certainly not risk snubbing the eldest son of one of the old families.

You stand outside of the council chamber, suddenly unsure. The excitement has faded, replaced with the roiling unease that comes with being anywhere near this room. You should wait. As excited as you may be to see Seokjin, you don’t want to risk Daniel’s ire at your interruption. So you stand there, outside the door, far enough away so that you aren’t in anyone’s way. 

After a moment, you can feel your heartbeat start to pound in your ears. Maybe waiting is a mistake. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can make it back to your chambers. Maybe you can wait there. You nod to yourself. That’s a better idea. You’ll wait for them to come to you.

You’ve just turned to go when the door opens, the hinges creaking lowly with the motion. You can hear Daniel’s voice, but it’s Eden, Daniel’s younger brother, who walks out first. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there, half fleeing, and you can hear him make a little noise of surprise. It doesn’t last long, though, because as soon as Daniel spots you, Eden’s face schools into something neutral.

Daniel stops mid-word to question you. “What are you doing here?”

“I-” Your words stick in your throat. You shouldn’t be here, but you’re frozen in place. And then, just when you think things can’t get worse, a dark head of hair and curious, feline eyes poke out from around Daniel’s form.

You freeze, hoping the ground will open up and swallow you whole. You feel yourself wilt, and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of how you’re standing, how awkward your arms feel at your side, how rigid your spine feels.  It’s not Seokjin. You could never be that lucky.

Daniel stalks toward you and roughly grabs your upper arm. His fingers dig in, pressing into your flesh. You wince ever so slightly–it hurts, the bruise already there is an angry deep purple–but quickly, you school your face into something more pleasant.

“We’ve talked about this,” Daniel says. His voice is even, but you can hear the undertones.

You should not be here.

You’re embarrassing me. Again.

We will discuss this again later.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out softer than you’d like, and you wonder if he can hear the slight tremble, or if it’s just you. “I… I thought it was Seokjin and I…” You trail off, eyes falling to the stone floor.

The king jerks you closer, grip like a vise on your upper arm. “You what?”

“I got excited.”

He hums. “I see.”

Off to your left, Eden clears his throat. “Brother. You have a meeting with Mother and the High Priest in the garden soon. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Daniel nods and squeezes your arm. “We’ll discuss this later.”

The brothers leave, and suddenly, the hall is quiet. The few guards that had been milling around follow Daniel and Eden out. You clear your throat, unable to meet the dark eyes that watch you curiously. He’s never been to the Crownlands, and your brain latches onto an idea. 

This doesn’t have to be awkward.

“Have you seen the grounds?” you question finally, shifting your weight.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Would you like to?”

You can feel him looking at you, can feel the questions hanging in the air. Thankfully–and surprisingly–he says nothing, simply motions for you to lead the way.

“The castle was built nearly 800 years ago by the Choi family. Because of tensions at the time between the royal family and the rest of the old families, the Ironhold was built to be nearly impregnable, with oil chutes built into every staircase and balistraria in every exterior wall.” You gesture to one of the arrow slits in the wall, where the sunlight from the mid-spring sun peeks through the thick stone. You know that he knows all this–he sat through almost as many of your father’s history lessons as you did–but it helps to keep talking.

And to his credit, Yoongi listens patiently. He follows dutifully at your side, pausing to look at things you point out and nodding along where appropriate. You can’t show him everything–that would almost be impossible as the castle grounds are so large. But you walk him through parts of the gardens (“There are over 1,000 cherry trees on the castle grounds.”), and show him the fish ponds (“The fish have been imported from the Eastern Coastlands. Some of the koi are descendants of the original fish brought in when the ponds were built 300 years ago!”). You walk past the Queen Mother’s private residence in the southern part of the castle grounds and show him the knight’s barracks and the training grounds. 

All of the buildings on the castle grounds look the same. It had taken you a few months to actually learn where everything was and what each building housed. Tall, sloping, whitewashed walls, deep blue tile roofs, sharp corners and rectangular windows. A far cry from the curved staircases and round windows and dark woods of Castle Blackwood. 

Re-entering the castle proper, you show him the Grand Hall, where important dinners are held, and the king’s dining room. And finally, finally, you end the tour of the castle grounds on the second floor of the western tower where your chambers–and the chambers of personal guards and hand servants–are. You’ve known for a while that there was a room designated for your own personal guard, so you end up in front of that door.

“This is yours,” you tell him, gesturing to the door. It’s not as thick or as dark as the ones back at Castle Blackwood, but you grew accustomed to those small differences long ago.

He stands there, his hand on the brass doorknob, gaze soft as he takes you in. You can see his eyes dart briefly to where the bruise peeks out from under your collar and feel yourself shrink away. You don’t want to know what he sees when he looks at you. 

“Come in.” His voice is gentle, almost as if he’s speaking to a wounded animal. “Let’s catch up.”

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It’ll make it harder to move forward–to move on. But then he says, “Please,” and you’ve never been able to resist the softness of his eyes. So you let him lead you into his chambers and shut the door.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you in a dress,” he says quietly. He stands in front of you, a little awkward. He keeps rubbing his hands together, patting down his trousers. It’s little comfort to know that he’s just as nervous as you are.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?” You don’t mean to snap, but it just kind of happens. You aren’t sure what this means–what it means for him, let alone what it means for you. There’s a pit in your stomach that feels almost like you swallowed a rock, and you do your best to steady yourself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why are you here? Why did it have to be you? Why couldn’t it have been Seokjin, or Namjoon, or any- anyone else?” 

He reaches into his doublet and pulls out a folded piece of parchment. It’s a little crumpled, the edges a little worn, like it’s been read many times. You catch a glimpse of a forest green wax seal still clinging to the top edge, and immediately you know what it is. 

“Maybe we’re both a little selfish.” The way he says it, you can feel your heart sink. 

Of course you know what the letter says. It haunts you, but at the time, you thought you were doing the right thing. You still do. 

I hope that, in time, you can move on. That eventually, you will find yourself in love. That you will find happiness again. It’s selfish, but I will only be able to live through this with the hope that you are happy and living a life that is worthy of the care you’ve shown me. 

Find someone who loves you as much as I do. For my sake, if nothing else. 

You want him to be able to move on and live his life. You want him to be happy. He deserves to be happy. And you would sacrifice your own happiness a hundred times over if it meant he could have the life he deserves. 

Yoongi reaches out, and your heart races. You tense, an automatic reaction, and his hand pauses mere centimeters from your cheek. A look of confusion crosses his dark eyes that quickly morphs to understanding and then sadness. His hand falls back to his side.

“How did you get that bruise?” His voice is casual, but you know him, can practically see the cogs turning in his mind.

You tug the collar of your gown so that it covers better. “I tripped.”

“And bruised your shoulder?”

“I’m still getting used to the gowns.”

He hums. You know he knows you’re lying. But you aren’t sure how much you want to allow him back in yet. You aren’t sure how much you want to drag him down with you. 

He sighs, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he looks at the letter that’s still in his hands. “I tried,” he says softly. “For the first few months, I thought that if I could just convince myself that I was mad at you, it would be easier. I tried so hard to hate you, to blame you for leaving, make it your fault.” He looks up at you, then, and you can see a shine to his eyes. He reaches out again, but this time, the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. “But I couldn’t. It’s not fair, but it’s even less fair for you. And I want to be here. I know it won’t be easy, but I want to be here with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Your eyes sting, and there’s a lump in your throat that you can’t quite swallow down. 

Hours later, you’re alone in your chambers. Dusk has fallen, the handmaidens have already been through to light the few candles on the tray near your bed. You sit on the chaise under the open window, a gentle spring breeze lightly caressing your skin. Silently, you stare down at the wooden box in your hands.

It’s dusty. You haven’t touched it since placing it on the shelf when you’d first arrived in the Ironhold. You can see the fingerprints from how you’ve held it over the past half-hour. Gently, you wipe the dust from the gilded leaves of the thistle and press them in. A soft ‘click’ echoes through the inside of the box. 

You take the contents out carefully. Sketches from one of the artists in the Forest Town–one of you, your father, your step-mother, and Namjoon and Seokjin; the other of you and Yoongi. You look much younger here, even though the drawings were only done a few years ago. It feels like an eternity. The real reason you’d pulled the box off the shelf, though, is still in your hand, wrapped delicately in a piece of cloth you’d ripped from a pair of your trousers.

Once it’s unwrapped, you hold it between your thumb and your forefinger and inspect it in the low light. 

Part of you feels guilty that this is the first time you’ve looked at it in almost a year, that you can’t wear it, even on a chain around your neck, or at the very least that you can’t display it in some way. You shouldn’t have accepted it. But there’s no way you could have known it would have spent a year hidden away in a secret compartment in a wooden box, wrapped in the fabric of the trousers you can no longer wear.

You suppose there are things about the world your father couldn’t have thought to teach you.

He couldn’t have prepared you for everything you’ve learned here. How to break yourself down, brick by brick, and rebuild from the ground up. How to change how you talk, how you think. To change your personality to be more likable, less loud, less prominent. To change how you walk, how you stand, how you take up space. A good queen knows when to enhance her king’s spotlight, but also how to fade into the background. She’s firm but quiet. She defers to her husband’s opinions, she doesn’t shape them. And certainly, she knows naught of how the king’s court functions.

He could never have taught you that there’s a special kind of loneliness reserved only for future queens, when you arrive in a new city and no one knows you and no one likes you and no one wants to know or like you. You’ll just be another fixture in the Crownlands, a figurehead with no power, a vessel with no thoughts. There for one thing–maybe two, if you’re lucky–and ignored the rest of the time.

You miss home, miss having things to fill your time with. You miss the activity of Blackwood Castle–there was always something going on, even if it was something minor. Now, you feel as though you spend most of your time daintily draping yourself across chaises and windowsills, watching the world pass you by. You’d tried to go to the library once and were barred entry (“The queen has no need for such knowledge!”). You’d been banned from the council chambers (“How dare you embarrass your king in front of the Eastern traders!”). You couldn’t watch the knights spar, couldn’t sit by as the dog trainers did their work, couldn’t stroll the streets of the Castle Town.

The sound of guard boots in the hall draw your attention, and you jump, hurriedly re-wrapping the ring in cloth and slotting it and the two drawings back into the secret compartment in the box. You press the thistle flower and manage to wipe the rest of the dust off the front just as the door to your chamber opens.

Daniel stands there, the Realm’s unshakeable king, smelling of wine and grinning like the dog that caught the hare. He doesn’t say anything, merely shuts the door behind him and yanks the bolt in place to lock it. You embrace him as he approaches, allowing him to push you back onto the bed.

After he leaves, you stare at the ceiling and hope that someday soon, you’ll start to feel less hollow again. 

It takes mere days for Yoongi to fully integrate into life in the Ironhold. Or, perhaps, integrate is the wrong word. It takes mere days for him to disappear. Once it’s clear he’s there to stay, he’s no longer a novelty, overshadowed by the wedding looming over the next couple days. He goes with you to dress fittings, sits behind you out of the way when you meet with the clergy. He even accompanies you to meet with the Queen Mother. You’re shocked that she allows him to stand in on your conversation, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’re a little glad she does.

“My knights followed me everywhere over the years,” she says casually, pouring herself a cup of tea. “I expect you’d want yours to do the same, forest bumpkin though he is.”

The Queen Mother sits at a small table near the window. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, simply stares out at the garden as if she’s inspecting the very plants for quality of growth. It’s uncanny how much her sons have inherited from her. Daniel has the same intense, calculating gaze, and both he and Eden have her high cheekbones and downturned lips. They’ve all got the same dark, glossy hair and downturned eyes.

You stand there, waiting for her to address you again. It’s awkward, but you dare not move. You can feel Yoongi’s presence behind you–he’s been quiet all morning, but you can tell that he has thoughts about life in the castle. You ignore him. Instead, you focus your attention on the table in front of you and the Queen Mother’s cup of tea.

Finally, the Queen Mother brings her attention back in your direction, leveling a gaze at you that reminds you just how scrutinized you’ve been since you arrived at the Ironhold nearly a year ago. She studies you for a moment before raising her teacup to her lips. “I suppose you’re expecting me to give you the norigae for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

That had been why you thought she’d called this meeting. The seamstresses who’d been working on your gown said the Queen Mother would give you a lucky decoration. They’d said it was a big honor, that it was tradition. Now, you’re unsure. Still, though, you nod quietly.

The Queen Mother hums. Her gaze burns into you, and when you fidget where you stand, she frowns. “Danny has said that your dress is to be cream.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s not white.” Her tone is as sharp as her glare. It’s an accusation.

You swallow. “I do as my king asks.”

“The traditional norigae has been passed down for generations in the Choi family,” the Queen Mother says. She does not look at you, merely glares down at her tea cup. “It’s supposed to bring great luck to the marriage and many sons. It’s meant to be given to a king’s bride to both welcome her into the Choi family and celebrate the pure gift she brings with her.”

It scares you a little, how she says it. It almost sounds like a threat, though you aren’t quite sure what she’s threatening you with. What you do know, though, is that you probably should be scared of whatever it is.

“Do you think you deserve that?” she questions.

“I…” 

You aren’t sure what to say. You aren’t sure there’s anything you can say. You’ve willingly allowed Daniel into your bed when he’s come calling. He’s the king and the man you are to marry. This is your life now.

Her question lingers as you wrack your brain for something–anything–to say. Thankfully, she puts you out of your misery.

“I suppose I must. Tradition is tradition, after all.” She sighs. “I will give it to the dressmakers tomorrow before the ceremony.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“You may go.” There is no room for argument. 

The trek back through the gardens and to your chambers is silent. Yoongi is quiet as he follows you, the only signs that he’s there are his shadow following yours and his footsteps echoing off the stone floors of the castle. He shuts the door behind you as you enter your room, sliding the steel bolt into place to lock it.

“That’s not necessary,” you tell him, collapsing onto the chaise at the foot of your bed. You’re exhausted, and there’s something heavy growing in your chest. “You can return to your own chambers. I’ll call for you if I need anything.”

He doesn’t move, and when you look up at him, you can see the conflict in his eyes. After a moment, he seems to decide on something, because he takes a cautious step forward.

“You know you don’t have to put up with any of this.”

“What?” You have no idea what he’s talking about. 

“We could run away.” He’s closer now, kneeling in front of you. Carefully, he takes your hand, holding it as though it were glass.

You shake your head. “You know that’s not possible.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand, dark eyes pleading. “We could go somewhere far away. Somewhere they couldn’t find you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“You’re exactly who I’m worried about.” His tone is firm. “This place is poison, it’s… it’s-”

“It’s fine, Yoongi.” His touch is electric on your skin, and you jerk your hand away, burned by his proximity. “This is my duty. This is my life.”

“It’s not fine!” He stands, clearly frustrated. “You don’t deserve how these assholes treat you. No one does. The Westerlands can deal with whatever comes from-”

“Loyalty does not yield.”

“Fuck that! Have some sense!”

“Get out.” You say it as loud as you dare, not wanting to draw the guards but desperate, so, so desperate, for him to leave. When he doesn’t move, you pick up the closest thing to you—a soft-bound journal—and throw it at him. The book hits him in the chest with a dull thud and plops to the ground. 

A pillow follows. Then another. A blanket. Your hair brush. Anything you can get your hands on, you hurl in his direction. If he would just leave and let you rest. You’re exhausted. Dear God, why won’t he leave? Eventually, you’re out of ammunition, everything else around you being too heavy or too large to throw with any sort of accuracy. Yoongi, to his credit, has stayed stock-still throughout the ordeal, unflinching despite the onslaught.

You stalk over to him, blood pressure rising. There’s a headache stirring behind your eyes. The pit grows inside of you. “Go. Now.”

“No.” He says it so calmly.

“Stubborn fool. I will send you home.”

“Listen to yourself,” he pleads. “This isn’t you, you don’t-”

Your palm stings. 

Why does your palm sting? 

You look down, confused, and see your skin a shade of angry red. Movement in front of you draws your attention. For the first time since you’d thrown the journal, Yoongi moves. His hand comes up to cup his cheek; your gaze follows his arm as it moves. There, hidden by his hand, his skin begins to blossom pink.

It’s like you’re sucked out of your body. You can see yourself standing there, cradling your stinging hand, staring in bewilderment at the red that blooms across his skin. A silent moment passes. But then you feel something, deep within you. At first, it’s nothing more than a tremor, a slight tremble within you, but then it builds. Your heart races. Whatever was left of you—whatever you’d been able to claw and cobble together over the last year—implodes. You can feel it shatter within you, a thousand times more powerful than the initial destruction. And with it, you crumble.

Yoongi approaches you cautiously, like he’s coming up on a wounded animal. “What can I do?” he asks, his voice soft, kind. “Tell me how I can help.”

“Leave,” you beg.

You regret it. You regret contacting your father. You regret asking him to send someone. Why you thought having any of them here would be helpful–or why you’d never considered it would be him–you’ll never know. You can survive here–you were surviving here. But at what cost?

It hits you hard, blindsiding you like a sudden storm. The truth is, you’re scared. What if the old you–the you he fell in love with… What if she’s gone? What if she can’t come back? What if she died the day you climbed into that carriage, replaced by this hollow husk of a person you are now?

You suppose it doesn’t matter. You’re here. Yoongi is here. Tomorrow, you will marry Daniel. And from there, you will take things as you have. One day at a time.

Eventually, you manage to pull yourself together. Your face still feels stiff and puffy, but you refuse to remove the cloth you’ve draped over the mirror, so you don’t know if it really is. You’ve got a headache–all the pressure behind your eyes and in your cheeks is enough to make you feel like your head is splitting open. Part of you just wants to go to sleep. But it’s barely mid-afternoon, and you aren’t entirely sure what you’re supposed to be doing.

The wedding is tomorrow, but you’ve gotten almost no direction from anyone on what should be happening. You suspect that something should be happening, but you have no idea what it could possibly be. As a child, you spent more time climbing trees and tormenting Namjoon with Yoongi than dreaming of your wedding, but even still. This feels like a business transaction.

A knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts, and it takes a moment for you to gather yourself. Your mind is a little hazy as you slide the bolt unlocked and open the door, but when you see Eden standing there, you force yourself to come to your senses. The prince bows slightly with his head, inclining it forward ever so slightly. It’s respectful, but only so much–he’s still the one with royal blood.

“How are you holding up?” he asks, stepping into the room. You haven’t really invited him in, but you step aside anyway and close the door behind him. “I heard that mother may have accosted you over the norigae this morning.”

“She was within her right,” you tell him softly.

Eden hums. “Still. You’re to be part of this family. Mother is just disappointed that she won’t be the most important woman in Daniel’s life anymore.”

“I don’t think that’s remotely true.”

He snorts, a wry smile on his lips. In the year you’ve been at the Ironhold, Eden has become your favorite person here. You don’t particularly trust him, but of everyone that lives in the Crownlands, he seems the most normal.

Casually, Eden wanders over to a window, looking out over the courtyard several levels below. “It is my hope that things will get easier for you in time.”

From where you’re sitting, that seems almost impossible. But you don’t want to quash his optimism. So you smile politely and nod.

“I brought you something,” Eden tells you, and the way he says it, it sounds almost like a conspiracy. 

Carefully, he pulls a long strip of fabric out of his pocket. It’s a beautiful silk, red as blood–the chosen color of House Choi. He holds it out with both hands.

“Technically, my brother should be giving this to you,” he says as you take it. “But I don’t think he cares so much about keeping to every tradition. Just the ones that are convenient to him.”

You can feel something thin and hard inside the silk. Eden nods, and you gently unfold the fabric. Inside is a hairpin, shiny silver and around the length of your hand. The end is an intricate dragon head, expertly forged, and in its mouth, a bright red gem. The same dragon that stands resolutely on the Choi family crest. It’s pretty, but something about it makes your heart hurt.

“Tomorrow, you will become a dragon,” Eden says. “You should be able to dress like one.” 

“Th-thank you.” You can barely manage it, and you hope that he takes your struggle as emotion and not the war that’s starting to wage within you.

After Eden leaves, the hours pass slowly. You aren’t sure what time it is when Daniel stops by your chambers. He barely speaks to you, but you can tell something is different about tonight. He stays longer after, falls asleep in your bed, on top of the coverlet. You aren’t sure when you drift off, only that you do.

You aren’t quite sure what wakes you up. It’s late. Or maybe early. It’s pitch dark–you can’t even see candles in the windows across the courtyard. Mysteriously, Daniel is still beside you. You’ve awoken on your side, so you can’t see him, but you can feel the dip in the mattress and the pull of his body on the blankets.

But there’s something else. Your blankets almost feel damp, the linen heavy with an extra weight. You sit up, curious, and immediately notice a spot that pools around Daniel. It’s soaked down deep into the mattress, the spot dark, almost black, in the dark of night. You reach out and touch it, and though you aren’t sure what you’re expecting, it’s sticky.

“My king?” you ask softly, touching his arm. He hasn’t moved since you woke, and you have a sinking sense that something is horribly wrong. When he doesn’t rouse, you shake him. “Daniel?”

There’s no response. His arm is stiff. He does not move. Your skin is sticky. You shake him harder, so hard that he rolls over. For a moment, you believe he’s awake. But then you see the cloth sticking out of his parted lips. And the gaping hole in his neck.

prev. | masterlist | next

[itsabouttimex2]

Do you have any headcanons for after an escape attempt with each monkey demon ( Mk , Monkey king and macaque) What would be their reaction at first? What would they do when they find you? How stricter would they get? What would they start doing differently after the attempt?

MK, as usual, has very different responses depending on the season he’s in.

Season 1 MK probably doesn’t even consider the possibility that Y/N could “escape”. This is when the relationship between the two of you is at it’s healthiest, before this poor boy goes through hell and back.

You aren’t locked up, he doesn’t have you hidden away, there’s nowhere that you’re explicitly forbidden to go- there’s nothing to escape from. His assumption isn’t “Y/N is running away from me!” or “I can’t let them escape!” but instead, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Y/N… so I’ll drop everything to go visit them right now!”

Sometimes he abandons all prior goals to run off and see you. Sometimes he rushes through a fight and ends it a little more… fiercely than his opponents would have liked.

Once the trauma starts rolling in and Y/N becomes his coping mechanism as much as they are his friend, MK starts to personally define exactly what counts as “escape”.

You aren’t allowed to leave his side without telling where you’ll be going and when you’ll be back. If you’re a competent enough fighter to take on a Bull Clone or two, he won’t push this ‘rule’ as hard. And if you can’t do that?

Then MK makes a serious push for you to train with him. He’ll beg and pester Wukong to teach you at least some of the 72 Transformations as a form of defending yourself or getting out of nasty scrapes without his help. Eventually, his mentor concedes (after some serious bribery on MK’s part) and allows you to take part in the sessions.

But until you can reasonably take care of yourself against two or three opponents at once, MK is by your side every minute he gets the chance. Running off or giving him the slip means little once he’s mastered his Gold Vision, which he does very quickly. Or he can extend his pole to the skies to get a much better view of the surrounding area to see exactly where you ran off to.

Give him the slip too many times, and MK will tie your wrist to his with his headband, ensuring that you don’t get “lost” as he drags you along after him.

“C’mon, Y/N! I already got permission from Pigsy for you to stay the night!”

“That’s sweet of you both, really… but last time I stayed the night, it turned into a week.”

“I know! That was the best, wasn’t it?! Maybe this time, we can stretch it out to a month!”

Sun Wukong will let it slide once. Just once, he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, choosing to believe that you wouldn’t go running off with a very good reason. After that, his restrictions mount and your freedoms decline one by one. Each consecutive escape brings you one step close to being locked inside Shuilian Cave, where he decides that you are safest.

But that’s for a later day, once you’ve run his trust dry.

For now, he believes in you.

So he’ll let you leave, giving you a single day to tend to whatever business that you needed to attend to so urgently that you left.

All alone. In the middle of the night. With a single packed bag.

Wukong will let this one first escape slide, because lord only knows that he’s pulled so many horseshit antics that his kid/friend/student/whatever Y/N is running off once isn’t that big of a deal. And really…

He wants to believe in you here. He wants to think that this is something you’re doing for a very good reason, instead of just being a desperate attempt to get away from him.

When the single day he allots you is over and done, you can start counting out your precious, meager minutes of freedom one by one.

In less than an hour, his flying cloud blazes through the sky and blisters the earth like a comet, leaving a crater of destruction and cinders where it lands.

And aboard the vaporous mount is none other the Great Sage himself, arms folded and grin forced.

“Hey there, bud. You been out here having fun, huh?”

No vigor or vim to line his words. No electric cheer to fuel his fluid movements. No warmth in his tone.

It’s almost hard to call him Sun Wukong.

But it is him here, and he’s here for you. He offers you a hand, stiff and tense. The way the acts makes it clear there’s no choice but to take it, not when the air grows thick and the tension is stormy.

“C’mon, bud. Time to head home.”

Pre-Season 4 Macaque is the only one on this list that’s immoral enough to outright kidnap someone, in my opinion. MK might guilt you into staying with him, and while Sun Wukong would technically commit kidnapping, it’s by virtue of not letting you leave instead of forcibly taking you away. It’d be more along the lines of false imprisonment.

But Macaque?

If all his careful maneuvers and schemes prove inefficient in keeping you close, he’ll switch to brute force in the blink of an eye.

Macaque; at the start, gently manipulates you. His shackles are first gossamer, innocuous and kind. He builds you up and tears you down in increments, never swaying too far to either side. You never feel confident enough to leave, never feel hurt enough to lash out.

He doesn’t chase after you. He makes you feel unstable and dependent, then molds you into seeing him as a shelter that you aren’t strong enough to leave.

It’s a brutal process for Y/N, especially if they’re his student, because he intentionally picks a lonely and insecure person for the sake of rivaling MK.

And if you do somehow break free from the psychological and emotional strings he uses to puppeteer you about, Macaque simply switches to physically stringing you up with his shadows and forcing you to act out your deepest insecurities as he narrates them to an audience of shadow clones.

“Poor little Y/N… forever on their own, watching from the shadows while all the rest of the world laughs and loves with one another.”

The shadows around your body maneuver and mold you, forcing you to wave your hands and walk, dragging your lips into frowns and smiles. Every little shame and self-doubt you possess is bared to the light, bared to his shadows, and you can’t help but be strung along as a passive watcher in your very own story.

You break into tears halfway through, devolving into hysteric sobbing by the end.

And Macaque; no longer a shelter but instead a jail, offers you comfort to reel you back into his grasp. He’ll take you into his arms as you weep, promising to make you stronger, strong enough to forget the past and all that he’s forcing you to leave behind.

Now that you’re rendered to your most reduced state, he can start to work his magic.

“Trust me, kiddo… everything I’m doing, I’m doing for your own good. You get me?”

[luv-indigo]

okay so, redesigning nadine for the third and (hopefully) final time. i felt she looked too similar to soraya (my keyframes fall mc) so i changed nadine up a bit. also!! i was trying to find oc templates to fill out for my visual novel ocs and although there’s so many out there, none were exactly what i was looking for soooo…. I made my own! i’ll post my other our life ocs with them soon but first, nadine ! (again)

I’ve also changed my own mind. Nadine will be my MC for Qiu’s route.

Nadine introduction <3

Nadine spent much of her early childhood moving from place to place, all within her home state of California but oftentimes in different cities. Moving around so often made it hard to keep in contact with friends and after a while made it especially hard making friends in the first place.

When Opal tells Nadine they‘re moving once again, Nadine is surprised to learn they’re moving to Oregon, their neighboring state. This time, she learns it’ll be a more permanent location. Nadine doesn’t know exactly how to feel. She’s so used to moving around that being in a place for so long sounds foreign, weird and new. However, part of her can’t help but feel excited, especially since she gets her own room now! But no matter what, she knows mama will be with her every step of the way.

Upon meeting Qiu and Tamarack, Nadine quickly feels they can be the best of friends. Nadine has always been more of a quiet person but not necessarily shy. Spend enough time with her and you’ll find she can talk quite a lot. Yet she’s perfectly content with simply listening as well.

Nadine is mostly a rule follower. Rules are there for a reason right? She prides herself on being neat and orderly. All her belongings are pristine and in their place because that’s just how she likes it. During step 1, Nadine strongly dislikes getting dirty. Which can be difficult to avoid if you’re playing outside in the woods.

Step Two !!

After four years, Nadine has adjusted well into her new home. Although Nadine needs glasses she very much prefers to use eye contacts instead. It’s also the most convenient when ice skating. She’s taken on ice skating as her main past time and she’s fairly good. Her transportation of choice has been rollerblading so it makes sense she got into ice skating as well.

Her other hobbies are more on the creative side. She enjoys crafting and drawing on occasion. Cosplaying is also one of her major hobbies. For years she has worked on making her Halloween costumes with the help of Mama.

During this time Nadine becomes more of a shy person. During her earlier childhood, she had no problem voicing her thoughts and opinions but it seems now that sort of thing gets harder to do as you age. Thankfully, she has her two close friends to turn to whenever she needs a hand, and in turn she will be there for them as well.

Step Three !!

Nadine has less and less time to do things she wants. If this is how adult life is she wants zero part of it </3

Nadine has always prioritized their studies (although that became much harder to do when middle school started due to her procrastination habits). Now college is weighing on their mind. Nadine still very much enjoys ice skating yet she struggles to make time to practice. Similarly, cosplaying has turning into a year long project (for Halloween of course). Doing multiple cosplays a year is something she doesn’t have time for anymore. Although they are often busy, Nadine will always make time for a special someone and her best friend, Tamarack.

Step Four !!

Nadine’s all grown up </3

Throughout many years Nadine has learned things about themselves and grown into the person they are today. Her experiences and the people she has been around since she was ten years old have impacted her life to mold her into who she is, for better or worse. And honestly, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

And finally this little thing I made with all of Nadine’s doll icons. I had to edit many of them to fit the hair style and clothing options I wanted and it literally took forever </3 ouGh

Also, I apologize for the quality. I tried to preserve it as I was inserting the drawings into the template but resizing may have messed up the quality </3

[noraigo]

some days ago, i started watching we are the series, since a friend of mine tried to convince me for a long time to tune in. we are isn’t exactly the type of series i would watch. not disregarding its charm, i must admit it’s even endearing, i’m just more keen on the angsty, adult queer love. however, there’s a certain couple that’s been running nonstop in my mind ever since i started the series and, of course, it’s no other than tan and fang.

tan is certainly unique as a whole, because if anything — i think it’s the first time i see such a loud but not annoying character, and that’s hard to portray. his excitement seems genuine all the time and i feel his happiness is shared through the screen. that doesn’t brush off his emotional intelligence and i think people underestimate this trait of his: just because he seems silly and party-loving doesn’t mean that he is insensible. he can be serious if it’s needed and he cares for the people around him. it’s safe to say that cheerful characters are often overlooked because of it and, as viewers, we shouldn’t take it for granted.

fang, on the other side, is the total opposite of him, yet it doesn’t make him less interesting. his background is implied to be unstable, which made both phum and fang be more closed off emotionally speaking. even so, fang is trying his best to be on the same page as tan, though tan adores him when he’s serene and quiet. most of the time, characters like fang are misunderstood and it’s a little saddening. he is kind and tough, but it’s not hard to love him. something tan understood from the very beginning.

their dynamics keep me pushing watching the series. now that fang has been softening more and more, their scenes became even lovelier to watch, if that was ever possible; their kisses, clear eyes of infatuation, playful banters and words of love show it. i’m not a fan of sex scenes, they underwhelm me a little (might be the acespec in me), but tanfang’s was just perfect. not too much, not too little. just enough to show that these two desire each other. possibly, it could be not their first time as a couple, which is refreshing and new in thai queer shows as far as i've seen. (aouboom definitely enjoyed kissing and touching each other a little too much but, didn't the same happen with hidden agenda? just saying.)

people like them could be too much for others, but for each other, they are an absolute match. fang knows tan loves him unconditionally and so does tan. tan tries to push him for the better without overstepping his boundaries whilst fang apologizes if his behavior might be irrational when he’s angry and accidentally lashes out on tan. that’s actual respect and patience in a relationship. none of them are trying to change the other to fit their own personality, they have already changed once they realized they were into each other back then when they were problematic teens. ain’t that sweet?

just look at these sweet two blorbos, just in their own world, happy and in love.

on another note, though, i’ve gotten to know aouboom since viceversa era and i could already smell the cute chemistry between both, yet it’s very sad to know they suffer from secondary couple syndrome. how many series have they starred in as a second or even third couple? very unfair, gmmtv, you better give them a nice series, regardless of its length. as long as they don’t keep acting in college settings, i would give my entire scholarship for a coffee shop or any other ordinary plot. they are just THAT good and i will never get tired of their chemistry. they have a kind of spark i see very rarely and if gmm doesn’t give them a shot, they’re losing a potential gem.

please, give us more tanfang content and especially, an aouboom series. thank you very much.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

I have been crying on and off about that Tommy MCD fic idea since you posted about it. The way you write emotional devastation is soooo good. It always punches me in the gut.

Thank you thank you here’s some more of it… using this as my fuck it Friday post, thanks for the tag @eddiebabygirldiaz, tagging @colonoscopys @homerforsure @chronicowboy @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @daffi-990 @butchdiaz @ anyone else who has stuff they want to share!

Going to put a lot of this under a cut because one its long two it’s a major character death au and there’s a bit about past contemplation of suicide. But it’s kind of happy generally I swear! This is Buck and Eddie getting together sort of!

For more of this au I’ve been tagging it ‘the seconds ticking killed us all a million years before the fall’ (lyrics from standing outside a broken phone booth with money in my hand)

I’ve hated and thought this scene was pretty good in turns over the last few hours so whatever here you go!

Eddie thinks the creaking on the front porch might be a raccoon, at first. It’s light, comes and goes for several minutes. He should probably go shoo it away, but it’s two am and he’s sore all over and can’t be damned. He’s settling further into the couch and his various ice packs when the raccoon knocks. Hesitant, hesitant, loud, loud, louder. Eddie stands up with only a slight groan, ice packs flopping all over the place, and goes to the door.

Buck stands on the other side of it.

If Eddie hadn’t been so exhausted yet in too much pain to fall asleep, he thinks he might have expected this. If he was a little more exhausted, a little more hurt, he might have admitted to hoping for it. As it is, all he can do for a moment is blink at the apparition before him. Buck is pale, wild eyed, looking somehow thinner than when they’d last seen each other not that many hours ago. His hands come up to hover near Eddie’s shoulders as Eddie is also reaching out, so he ends up with his fingers colliding into an awkward fist against Buck’s elbow.

“Eddie.” He sounds wrecked. “I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright,” Eddie says, soft, shaking his head. “I’m okay, Buck. I’m still okay. Like I promised.”

Buck makes a terrible little noise and steps backward, and again, off the porch. Eddie follows, hands out, trying to make sure he won’t trip. “Eddie,” he says again, “Eddie.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, keeping his voice low, calming, less likely to wake any neighbors. “Buck, it’s okay. Do you want to come inside?”

Buck looks up behind Eddie, where the door is wide open. Light spills through, shining in his eyes, in the unshed tears there. “I don’t want to… waste… any time I have.”

“What-”

Buck kisses him. The sound Eddie makes is more frightened than anything, even as his arms come up around Buck, to hold him close, to hold him up. It’s not- it’s wet, and Buck’s fingers almost hurt where they’re dug into the sides of Eddie’s head. Their faces are pressed too hard together, noses crushed into cheeks. Their lips are barely even aligned. Buck gasps a hitching breath into his mouth and Eddie pulls back. Not away, just enough to speak.

“Come inside,” he pleads. “Buck, come inside, just- please, come inside.”

Buck doesn’t let go of him, doesn’t give him an inch, but lets Eddie pull him into the house. Eddie’s not sure how he manages not to trip going blind and backwards, but they make it through the door, down the hall, to the living room. Eddie’s not even sure if he’d count what’s happening as kissing, but Buck’s mouth presses into his over and over as they go.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, between the moments of contact. “It’s okay,” he says as he kicks a shoe or something out of their path, “It’s okay,” as sits back down on the couch. Buck climbs on top of him immediately, and Eddie hopes the combined weight of them doesn’t pop the ice pack that ended up crushed under his thigh. It is kissing, now, the desperate kind of making out Eddie remembers with Shannon in the day or two on either side of his deployments. Eddie slides his hands to rest firm against Buck’s lower back to anchor him — or maybe both of them — and follows Buck’s lead as their lips slide together, as Buck gets his mouth open and chases his tongue, as they gasp raggedly for air without ever breaking apart. He’s not sure, but he thinks Buck is crying. Eddie isn’t, barely. Buck needs someone solid right now, someone who will let him take what he needs and be okay if this is it, if this is the only time they have this. Because Eddie’s not fooling himself. He laid there at the bottom of that pit under all that rubble and heard Buck’s scream, first wordless, and then Tommy, and then Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He knows that this might all be too much, too soon, too mixed up, and if Buck pulls away from this kiss and never comes in for another one that’s okay. He wishes, maybe, that it could have happened different. He wishes Buck had been smiling, and it had been gentler, on a bright afternoon, on a good day. But it’s okay.

It goes until Buck’s elbow catches a bruise and Eddie can’t stop a small, pained sound from getting out. Buck jerks back like he touched a hot stove, eyes open to near circles as he looks Eddie all over. Eddie knows it's sort of a rough picture, all purple and blue and a fresh line of stitches cutting a half moon around his temple from forehead to just under his mole. Buck’s fingers come up to trace it, not quite touching the skin. Just the shape, in the air.

“S-sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so- I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says again. He wipes a thumb under Buck’s eye, though it doesn’t do much to clear away the still falling tears. Buck leans into the touch, though, and then in further, head cradling against Eddie’s shoulder as he slides half off him onto the couch. Eddie slides his fingers into Buck’s hair, wraps his other arm around him as Buck coughs muffled little sobs into his t-shirt.

“S-sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Buck.” His hair feels a little limp, greasy. Eddie wonders if he went home at all, took a shower, ate. His own fridge is kind of dire — he was planning on going to the grocery store after work until a building collapsed on him — but he could probably scrounge up something. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Buck scoffs a single, wet laugh. “No,” he says, voice thin, scrubbing at his face as he sits more upright. “It’s not- you didn’t do it on purpose. That’s the job, right?”

The job that killed your husband. Why would you want to do this a second time? I care for you so much and I’m so sorry you reciprocate. “Yeah. Still.”

Buck inhales and exhales, shaky, and nods in thanks. He makes a face and pulls another ice pack out from under him. It’s all floppy now, probably too warm to be effective. “God. Let me…” He stands, gathering up all the ice packs he can see and heading towards the kitchen.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be just a minute.”

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch and listening to the freezer door open and its contents get shuffled around. The soft hiss of it shutting, Buck’s footsteps, Buck in the doorway sheepishly holding an armful of frozen vegetables. Eddie arranges peas and carrots over the worst sore spots as Buck sits back down beside him.

“Did you take anything?”

“Yeah, just before you got here.” Extra strength ibuprofen, so he won’t be good to take anything else until morning. Wasn’t going to be a problem when he thought he was just going to sleep, though he wishes he’d taken a smaller dose now so he could spread them out, time it better to however long they’ll be talking here.

“Good.” Buck sighs, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Sorry I… I didn’t mean to be so dramatic, coming here.”

Eddie laughs, startled and genuine. “It’s, uh, been a dramatic day.”

Buck hums agreement, a tired and beautiful smile pulling at his lips. He flops his head sideways onto the couch. “I kind of had a… an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Of what I was going to say. Because…” he searches Eddie's face. “I'm not- I'm not making it up, right? There's something here? You feel it too?”

Eddie can barely breathe. “Yeah, I- it's not just you. But- Buck, I understand why you wouldn't want to do this, why you wouldn't want to take the risk. I- I have feelings for you,” it feels like a childish way to say it even as the words leave his mouth, “But I… you're my friend. I think you're my best friend. And I am truly fine with that. You don’t have to… it’s okay.”

That smile. “That’s the thing. That’s what I’ve been thinking about. N-not just today. Though, I guess- you scaring the shit out of me made it more- more real.” He chews at his lip for a moment. “I… spend a lot of time wishing… that I had more of it, with Tommy. That we had longer together. Or at least that I- that I’d made sure every minute counted, you know? B-but I think maybe I did? I loved him so much and we- it was good, what we had. Just because it ended, that doesn’t mean the rest wasn’t worth it. I’d love him again, knowing what was coming. And, so…” he takes a deep breath. “So I’ve been thinking that… even if I… even if something bad could happen- I don’t want that to stop me from having something good, now.”

“Buck-”

“Hold on,” Buck says, a hand up, a wry smile. “I have a part two.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s turned towards him without really noticing, both of them sitting one leg folded up on the couch so their knees touch.

“I’m not… going to stop loving Tommy. And I’m, uh- kind of a fucking mess, as I just demonstrated. I don’t- know that I’m- going to be any less messy any time soon.” There’s a furrow in his brows that Eddie wants to smooth out. “I don’t know that starting something would be fair to you.”

“I-”

“You’re a very kind man, Eddie.” Buck says it very softly, and one of his hands comes to rest so gently on Eddie’s leg. “I think you’d let me fall apart here forever, but I want- I want you to really think if it’s worth it-”

“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is sharp enough that Buck blinks several times, quick. “Don’t- you’re worth it. Your pain isn’t- it’s not some kind of chore to me. I haven’t been just- hanging around, waiting until you’re a fun guy. I like you, Buck, right now, not- not some other perfectly okay version of you.”

Buck’s fingers twitch against Eddie’s thigh. “You’re a very kind man,” he repeats.

“I don’t even know if that’s true,” Eddie sighs, the material of the couch soft where he rests his cheek against it. “I just…” He thinks back to that first day Buck showed up at the station, and then to every day after that. “I think I always just wanted… to make your life easier.”

“Oh.” Buck shuts his eyes, whistles a breath through his nose. “You- you do. You do, Eddie.”

They’re quiet, at an impasse. The whole world is quiet, here at nearing 3 am with all the colors purple dark outside of this lamp lit room. Eddie can hear crickets and frogs if he listens hard enough. “Tommy was my friend. I’ve felt… guilty.”

Buck opens his eyes again. “For liking me?”

Eddie smiles a little at the phrasing — Sophia’s 8th grade voice saying like-like in his head — and nods. “It feels… disrespectful. He loved you so much, I don’t- I don’t know how he’d feel about it.”

Buck scratches a nail absently against the fabric of Eddie’s sweatpants. “We talked about it, a little.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The jobs we have, you know? It’s not like- it’s not like we never got hurt, never thought about what would happen if one of us…” Buck shrugs, and his smile aches this time. “I told him if I died he had to be sad forever, only love me the rest of his life.”

Eddie laughs. “Mm. Reasonable ask.”

Buck nods, smile getting bigger, almost a grin. “I didn’t mean it, but… You know, I think he would have. He was teasing when he promised, but… he was serious, too, I think.” He sighs. “He told me he was scared I wouldn’t let anyone love me. He said I-” Buck’s voice cracks badly enough he has to wait a few moments to continue. “I’m too easy to love. I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t go without it.”

Eddie feels a little wide eyed. “That’s…”

“Isn’t that just annoyingly romantic?” Buck laughs, wiping his eyes. “Reasonable ask. Jesus.” He scrubs harder. “I think he… he wanted to make my life easier, too. You’re… you’re so alike, sometimes.” He winces. “No, that’s- I don’t mean- that’s not why I-”

“No, it’s… I know you’re not trying to replace him.” It’s not like he hasn’t had the thought, himself. He and Tommy got on so well in part because they were alike. Shared hobbies, both army, both carrying around a complicated relationship with their families and their sexuality. But they’re their own people. And- “I wouldn’t want to… try to be that, for you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

There’s another quiet minute. Hesitantly, Eddie rests his hand palm up next to Buck’s. Buck slides their fingers together, and they fit as well as any hands do. “So… what do you want to do? What do you want to happen?”

Buck squeezes. “I… I’m not sure.”

Eddie nods. “Has there… am I the first person? After?”

Buck’s eyes get a little calculating, like he’s not sure he should say whatever comes next. “I hooked up with a girl, a few months in, uh, a little before I came to the 118. In a bar somewhere, I don’t even remember… And then I went home and, uh-” he winces, glances to the side. “I almost killed myself.”

“Buck-” Jesus, jesus-

“No, no-” Buck squeezes tighter, sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t. I didn’t and I wouldn’t. I- I’m safe, I promise, Eddie. It wasn’t- it wasn’t even actually an attempt, I just… thought about it.” He swallows. “It was close, I guess.”

Eddie’s clinging more than holding his hand. “Buck- if- I don’t want to-”

“No,” Buck shakes his head, firm. “I didn’t tell you because I- I thought if we-” his other hand wraps around the two of theirs. “I don’t want you to think if we move forward you’re putting me in danger. You’re not. I- I wasn’t doing well back then, it was hardly even about- it was a lot of things. I’m going to be okay, I swear.”

“If- If you’re ever not-” words feel like physical objects in Eddie’s throat, choking and uncomfortable. “Promise me you’ll tell someone, Buck. It- it doesn’t have to be me, just- promise me.”

“I promise,” Buck says, solemn, serious. His thumb rubs gently at the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No,” Eddie disagrees immediately. “It’s… I asked. I want to know. I-” they complete another loop on this circle of a conversation. “I told you, your pain isn’t a chore. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

“Right,” Buck sighs.

“Buck.”

“No, I-” Buck laughs a little at Eddie’s admonishing tone. “That was a right, I understand, not a yeah, right. I just-” he takes a hand away from the tangle they’ve got going and runs it through his hair. “God, I’m tired.”

Eddie nods. He’s exhausted, down in his bones. “Okay. I’ve got two things to say that don’t really go together, this time.”

“Okay,” Buck smiles at him, eyes crunched up and fond. “Hit me.”

“First, I think…” Eddie sits up straighter, too, takes a deep breath. “I like you, Buck. I- care for you. I- I-” Truth has to go both ways. Fuck it. “I’m in love with you. You should probably know that.”

Buck nods, eyes wet again. “Okay.”

“But I think if we… If you want to try being together, we should take it slow, and if you need to back out, that's okay. You’re my friend, and I swear to you that’s more important to me than anything else. So… So we have to just keep being honest with each other, even if it might hurt.”

“Alright,” Buck nods again, wiping his eyes. He manages a smile. “Was that the second thing, or…”

Eddie shakes his head, lips quirking up. “No. The second thing is, you wanna come sleep with me?”

Buck throws his head back laughing, almost losing balance where he sits. Eddie grabs his elbow to make sure he won’t fall over. “Eddie-”

“It’s late,” Eddie explains, not bothering to keep the adoration out of his voice now that he doesn’t really have to. “You shouldn’t drive home, my bed’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Buck laughs again, resting his elbow on the couch and his chin on his hand. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie thinks there’s plenty of adoration in that gaze, too. He shakes his head, though. “I think I’ll still take the couch tonight, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”

Buck raises their still clasped hands and kisses Eddie’s knuckles, holding his smile pressed into the skin there for a few moments. “And in the morning we can start to… figure out the rest of it?”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. Smiles once, twice. “See you then. Looking forward to it.”

Buck ducks his head, though his smile is still visible. “Yeah. Me too. Go- get some sleep, Eddie. I’ll-” he laughs, looking around them. “I’ll put away your peas.”

“Oh,” Eddie lifts up a bag of mushy vegetables. “No, I can do it, don’t worry about it.”

“Eddie.” Buck stands, gently taking the bag, and hesitating only a moment before he bends down and carefully kisses his cheek. From only a few inches away, eyes soft and close and blue, he says “I want to make your life easier, too.”

Eddie swallows hard, rests his hand against Buck’s cheek for just a second, and nods, momentarily incapable of words. Buck is halfway to the kitchen when he manages to say “Goodnight, Buck.”

Buck turns in the doorway. Smiles. “Goodnight, Eddie. See you in the morning.”

[sokacoke]

Compiling some questions and information regarding indigo park from unique geese's live streams.

Some clips might not be long enough for the full answer due to YouTube only being 60 seconds so just keep that in mind.

A bit of the older ones could contain stuff that aren't up to date that I forgot to remove because I was making this in my notes for like 3-5 weeks so lets uh. ignore those!! (ill delete them later maybe)

IF I SCREAM THE STREAM ENDS

'I think comparing Issac to fucking Willam afton is such a sad comparison'

Credits to @lunozapp for the clip

INDIGO Q&A 

“Will there be any boss fights?”

‘That’s a hard thing to say. I’m gonna say no.’

“How old are Rambley and his friends?”

'They’re all over 18. Probably around there early 20s at oldest.  They’re younger but I don’t really have set ages for them.'

“Would Indigo park be rated M?”

'I would argue indigo park chapter 1 could get away as teen but I’d like to rate it up as a M by chapter 2.'

“Is chapter 2 going to take place under the park?”

'No. There might be parts under but chapter 2 won’t.'

“Rambley has been left alone since the park closed. Has he practically sat alone for that long?”

'In all technicality, he was sitting there alone and abandoned for many years. He’s not fully aware of what’s going on, but he is you know?” 

“Do you have any plans for future chapters?”

'The entire greater story has been set in stone for months and we don’t have any plans to change it.'

'There’s stuff in chapter 1 that people won’t realize are important to the plot until chapter 5.'

“Is mollie macaw an antagonist?”

'Depends what you’re saying when you say mollie macaw. Antagonist is a strong word.'

LAUNCH STREAM

“Is the raccoon evil?”

'No. You guys just buckle up. you’ll see.'

REACTING TO YOUTUBERS 

“Did you expect for Rambley to be popular with the furries?”

‘I made a joke that it would be popular within it but nothing in the game was designed to be furry. It was just like “hey we need parody’s of Mickey Mouse and Disney characters” ending up creating characters I really liked.'

“Do you know that there’s already NFSW art of Rambley?”

'It’s the internet sorry. If you make NFSW stuff I just ask you don’t send it to me or inject it to the rest of the community. Keep it separate, these are like my children.'

“How many versions of the railroad did u go through?”

'It took quite a while. We would get to a point where we kind of liked it and then be like “oh I don’t really like this it doesn’t flow really well.” I think the great thing going into chapter 2 we have a better understanding of what we want the game to look. Chapter 2s going to be mainly a lot of the rides. It was kind a deal where I wanted you to feel claustrophobic but it was hard to deal with those open environments. I’m not gonna announce anything crazy but chapter 2 will start in the queue and lobby for oceanic oddesy'

“How many chapters will there be?”

'The game plan is five.'

“Is this the last time we will see Mollie? Her death screen mentions she can copy voices but that wasn’t shown. Will be shown again to do that mechanic?”

'The voices were less of a mechanic and more of showing going on when she’s talking throughout the game. All the dialogue is something she’s heard during game,behind the scenes of the park or something that a guest has said.'

“Is Rambley the bad guy?”

'What part of the game made you think Rambleys the bad guy? No.'

“I trust Rambley with my life. If he betrays us I’ve already forgiven him.”

'Yeah, you don’t need to worry about that.'

“Whys the main character so jacked?”

'It’s just the character model I had I was using. We might change it.'

Critter cuff

'I was big against the idea of having one mechanic. They saw poppy playtime and instantly thought “every mascot horror needs a mechanic.” The critter cuffs important but I also want different fun mechanics that can be worked into it.'

“Do you plan to add more characters?”

'There will be more characters added into chapter 2. There may some returning characters. Obviously Rambley will be the focus of every chapter he’s ur buddy through ur journey. We do have a new set of characters.'

“Will there be another credits song in chapter 2?”

'We don’t want to start planning stuff until we know for sure how much money is there budget wise.'

“Where’s the cat?”

'There originally was just a regular ass cat that was in the and was in the game for quite a while. The model we had didn’t look like it fit the world and the animation looked stiff. Maybe we bring it back.'

“What were the stealth things in the files for?”

'Originally there was a section where Lloyd would follow you and you’d hide. I definitely want to do some stealth stuff where you have to hide under stuff I think that’d be a lot of fun.'

“Will Mollie return?”

'Do you think Mollie will return?'

“Is Rambley sentient?”

'He’s fully aware of everything around him but he’s programmed to behave a certain way. The best comparison would be GLaDOS or Wheatley from portal. Programmed to act a certain way, but also aware and able to see stuff around them and react.'

“How long will chapter 2 be?”

'We’re aiming chapter 2 to be just a little bit longer then chapter 1. We want each chapter to be a bit longer than before. I’d say for chapter 2, two and a half

'The only character that won’t have much influence is clearly Mollie.'

“What about Lloyd?”

'Lloyd’s cool and Lloyd will be important. That is all I can say.'

“Will there be other AI companions?”

'No. It’s just Rambley the main mascot.'

“Is there a possibility of a major overhaul of chapter 1?”

'There’s room to improve it a bit. In the future, I can see us doing a full on remaster of chapter 1.'

“Never make Rambley a creep I will not forgive you for it”

'You got it.'

“What’s the estimated gap between the chapters?”

'Year to Year and a half, maybe two. Chapter 2 is definitely 2025.'

“Don’t be fooled?”

'There was a lot more potential do something with that. If we had more budget then it would be really cool where you’re running through the pipes and you have to listen for Rambleys voice through the pipes and sometimes it would be mollies voice. It would be Rambley guiding you and then you hear Mollie trying to sound like Rambley.'

“It hurts Lloyd”

'That’s the funny thing. I don’t wanna get TOO deep into it but this was kinda just random text. I’ve seen 5 or 6 different interpretations of what people think it says.'

'Without spoiling anything I do think multiple ending’s for the final chapter would be kinda cool.'

REACTING TO MATPAT

“A lot of sexual tension between these guys”

'Shout out to the furries because I’ve seen every combination of characters being shipped and it wasn’t until today that a single female character was involved that all. Not mollie not Nonbinary with Salem it was literally just the 3 men'

“Does Rambley canonically sing Rambley review?”

'Yes he actually does. It’s in between chapter whenever ur going into chapter 2. The player could turn around and find a way out now but he actively wants to keep going with Rambley.'

TALKING ABOUT INDIGO PARK,FNF AND MORE

“The voice and creator of indigo park”

'I don’t voice anyone expect for Jackson and another character that no ones found yet.'

“Are you ever going to get a console support?”

'So we will eventually but to be honest with you I don’t want to do that until we have like chapter 3 out. At earliest if chapter 2 becomes massive then maybe as a bundle, but I don’t know.'

“Is chapter 2 free?”

'No it won’t be.'

FUNKAST THEN FNAF

'Other then a few minor tweaks we have the first few minutes of Rambleys dialogue at the beginning of chapter 2 written out.'

'I don’t think we’ll ever do a fox character. We were brainstorming some of the characters in chapter 2 and thought “oh maybe a fox would be cool” but we were looking at the role that this character would have to play if they were a fox and thought “at some point we’re just making knock off foxy from fnaf”'

“What the species”

'I cant disclose that sorry chief. There are other animal based cartoon characters in chapter 2 if that satisfies you. Furries rejoice I guess? I feel like it’d be harder to do a human villain.'

“How hard is it to make an idea of a character?”

'All of the characters we make need a purpose. It’s layers of talking through stuff and ideas to get stuff we like. The designs for them aren’t done but the idea for them is there and i am in love with them.'

“So the character design isn’t finished but have you made actual development of the game?”

'No. We’re working on chapter 1 right now. Again we’re looking at a year and a half or two years until chapter 2 cuz I’m not gonna rush it or my team. We’ll have little animations stuff and between yeah we’re not gonna do anything with that.

“Update is bug fixes, trying to get controller support working,revamping some of the environments and I’m bringing on a new modeler for some of the monster designs. Not confirming but i think Finley is going to get a full on redesign for chapter 2.”

“What chapter are you most excited for?”

'To be honest with you, i think chapter 3 is where we’re going to start doing the crazy shit possible and then chapter 4 is planned to be the most bad ass chapter i could ever think of. The story gets moving chapter 4.'

NEW FNAF GAME + INDIGO PARK NEWS

'It turned out that jakeneutron who’s my head animator, was going to Disney at the same time I’m at Orlando. We met up and we took so many pictures for reference. We went to universal studios and it was my first time we ever went to universal so I took so many pictures'

“Refs for what?”

'For indigo park bro. Dude I needed anything theme park and I got so many ideas for the future of indigo and stuff.'

“Salem news or I’m not here”

'Do I wanna put out Salem news..Salem is important 👍'

'I’ve kind of teased it a bit but we are working on some minor chapter 1 before chapter 2 just so there’s a bit of a quality jump so it’s a little bit more in the realm of where we want it to be.'

'We are working on some environmental updates. Working on some new assets to put into chapter 1. Which should make stuff feel cooler in my opinion? '

'To accompany that one thing we didn’t have a lot of is that environmental music in regards to what they would have in a real theme park. Like if ur waiting in a queue in a theme park there’s a lot of music and stuff that they play that is custom to that. Let’s say you were waiting for Rambleys railroads, what would that sound like? So maybe a little bit of new music?'

New potential song in clip link

FINISHING INTO THE PIT & NEW INDIGO PARK PLUSH LAUNCH PARTY

“Character hints?”

'I think you will be soft introduced or at least see the character designs before chapter 2s out. Right now at this point of development there are four new characters planned.'

“Is there gonna have a obby theme?”

‘Probably not really. I’ve talked about a little about a mechanic that we started to workshop and figuring out how it’ll work in the lore and gameplay elements but I probably won’t talk about it again.'

“Will there be a haunted house ride or a dark ride?”

'I want to do a haunted mansion parody hopefully chapter 4 or 5. Not in chapter 2 it wouldn’t fit.'

“Space mountain?”

'I have ideas for a space mountain and I can’t tell you what chapter that one will be in.'

'It’s funny cuz I’m reworking all of the chapter 1 environments and I’ve been thinking about it. There’s a fair enough of stuff that theorists haven’t caught onto yet that I hope will be super obvious in the future. I’m super excited to see what people do with chapter 2.'

HORROR GAME NIGHT & TALKING INDIGO PARK

“Will you be selling art prints maybe with posters?”

'We might do posters. There’s some new poster art coming for chapter 2 and I’m gonna leak, the (chap 1) update.'

“Now will they all have villain roles?”

'I dunno. I’ve already told you guys about some of them actually you guys just haven’t figured it out yet'

Talking about the 4 new characters

'I will say the chapter 1 update will have new secrets for you to find and some of it will help you figure out stuff in chapter 2. We are cooking is all I can say.'

“Whats ur favorite out of the 4 originals we know about since u said 4 new characters”

'Yeah let me just reveal one of the characters. No. You guys won’t- actually? You guys will know about some of the characters WAY before chapter 2 comes out.'

BACK FROM PAX! - WATCHING JACKSEPTICEYE PLAY INDIGO PARK & CATCHING UP ON FNF MODS

'there’s a little bit of the new queue! A little bit of a step up. I mean hot take but. Looks a lot better I think.'

Queue in clip

'We’re still working on it but this is what Mollies landing pad looks like now. This feels more themed.'

New mollies landing pad in clip

“Can you make an update trailer for the indigo park update so people know it exists?”

'Yea we will. We’ll change it.'

Extra notes worth mentioning:

it’s been said that there will be a meme ending for chapter 3 though I’m not able to find the clip at the moment so if anyone somehow has it u should tots send it my way

When he's talking about the 'Other character he voices that no ones found yet' it might be possible he’s yapping about the reverse Llyods Limos line Context:

Video is from forgottenstudios1987 on YT

The cat been brought back!

Another part of the new rambleys railroad queue song.

More of the New Rambleys Railroad Third link is just a very subtle railroads gift shop but it counts i think

Other landing pad clip

FEEL FREE TO ADD ANY OTHER CLIPS I MIGHTVE MISSED!

[rasshu-benaiokny]

❄️Winter Gyutaro Headcanons❄️

I don’t believe i made a headcanon list before but since I’ve seen millions of them, i want to try. this is how my specific Gyutaro headcanons would go during winter!

-This will contain (x Reader) but not all will be

- Is vague enough to be either romantic or platonic

Gyutaro hates Winter: it’s obvious he would despise the cold season the most; its the hardest season to survive in and it brung back some uncomfortable feelings from lost human memories. Especially that day when he had found Ume… it was the coldest day in his life, it seemed

Gyutaro is less active: Its common knowledge that demons aren’t bothered by simple earthly things like weather, but Gyutaro finds comfort in warmer weather. His malnourished frame doesn’t help him either as his bones crack and ache. Often, he’ll find himself cradled within Daki or within the warm house of his prized person.

Gyutaro is miserable and depressed more: this demon has always been pessimistic but just like many humans, he gets hit with seasonal depression and it hits him hard. So hard that Daki will hunt more to compensate for his lack of enthusiasm. One time, he stayed face down on the ground in Daki’s room for hours, just being depressed because she was out.

He secretly likes the holidays: Gyutaro doesn’t particularly believe in any sort of holiday but he will use them to indulge in Daki. He will pamper his little sister with stolen fabrics and jewels from far away to make her shine with happiness.

His smell is bearable: Since he’s less active and its not horrendously hot, Gyutaro’s bodily odor doesnt come off as bad! Plus, this is the one time he will wash up at vacant hot springs. Hot water relaxing his tension, the steam concealing his figure, maybe a quick snack too if someone catches a glimpse him too.

He’s slightly weaker: after all that time, he hunted less than he should’ve so he does seem weaker after the new years… hes already thin as is but it hurts your heart to see him walk slower, move with less power. He reminds you of those old scraggly stray dogs walking in the snow covered city…

Hes vulnerable/emotional: Despite being so close to him; he never opens up about his current problems to you or Daki but during winter, his shell cracks ever so slightly! If you are perceptive enough, you may be able to nurse his traumatic scars just a little bit. It may not be much, but to him, its the world.

( This actually isnt based off of Rasshu x Gyutaro for once, i just know a bit of Gyutaro stans that are really sweet so, yeah… its based off of those peeps even tho i know they wont beable to see this cuz tumblr be damned to them grawhaha )

[darcytaylor]

“If somebody is close to a situation, they should have other friends that are close to the situation, they don't need to come onto social media to talk about it…”

100% agree. And anonymous people/fan behavior aside, I think this is why so many are annoyed/mad at Luke’s friends because they’re not looking out for his best interest or protecting his privacy. They post things that hint he’s with them and sometimes what’s happening in real time.

He doesn’t post much on social as it is, and yes some fans I’m sure make him want to be on social less, but his friend group is not helping. They seem like a very self-serving group and that makes me sad for Luke. Especially because he and Rory have been friends for so long.

The only person who seems to be protecting and being respectful of Luke is Nicola. Deleting nasty comments about him on her posts and even swapping out a pic she posted on her insta story to avoid more speculation about the Polaroid in her phone.

And the contrast between Luke and Nicola is she has this incredibly supportive friend group who protect her at all costs. Even throwing some shade when necessary lol.

Luke needs to surround himself with better people if he’s going to have any chance of a long career. His current group are going to ruin things for him and he doesn’t deserve that.

I know he’s done some questionable things like not promo BS3 online as much as others have but for someone who isn’t online much, it’s probably not always top of mind. Especially after doing so much live promo for months.

Anyway, just want to give my two cents. I wish nothing for the best for Luke and I think if he surrounds himself with more people like Nicola and her friends, he’ll be a big success in whatever he does. And that includes if he’s active on social or not :)

Friends are a tricky subject, because while I can look in on Luke and his core group of friends (you know the ones), I can obviously see some questionable things (like not caring about his privacy at all), but I also don’t truly know their motives or who they are as people. 

I’ve had 2 people in my life (who I had been friends with for years) that I had to cut out of my life. This wasn’t an overnight process though. It was a process of accessing situations, forgiving them, then continuing the cycle. It took me a while to even realize that there was a cycle, and that it was a cycle of my own doing.

(I have realized as I have gotten older that it's okay to drop people, but I also realize that it is never an easy thing to do)

My situation brings me to thinking that the friends aren’t solely to blame, because Luke is the one that is friends with them at the end of the day. He has chosen to stick it out with them, and let situations happen that they know fans will see. I am also sure that some things were done unintentionally and the thought process wasn’t about the fans. I like to give the benefit of the doubt sometimes.

Luke and his friends know that fans follow the group (this was even before season 3) to catch a glimpse of Luke. There should be more care regarding the optics and digital footprint that they are all bringing to the world/fanbase. Because when they post about Luke (even a hand or a leg), they are adding it to the fanbase and making it public. 

(I also think everybody should stop following these people, it’s not like any of them are doing anything of importance - that sounds mean but it’s honest)

Nicola said in her Harper’s Bazaar: Life Lessons interview, “surround yourself with people you want to be like”. It seems simple but can also be hard to do depending on where you are in life. Nicola knows who she wants to be, so she knows who to surround herself with. 

With friends you always want to give them the benefit of the doubt, you want to help them in bad and good situations, and it’s easy to look at things with rose coloured glasses in friendships (in any type of relationship really). This is especially true if you are kind, or empathetic. 

I’m sure that Luke has talked with his management and they have informed him of how things are being perceived by the public. I’m sure Luke had an idea even before a conversation had happened. Now we just have to trust that Luke understands his situation and makes the changes necessary (if he wants to) to continue to grow his career. 

[moonshynecybin]

how about if marc and vale had reconciled in 2019 (and started dating, not more situationship this time). how do you think vale would have reacted to the 2020 injury and the years of pain that followed?

i’ve been chewing this over for an ask maïna sent me. and i think that it’s a really tough hurdle for them to be together while they’re riding against each other in GENERAL. it’s a sport of daring it’s a sport of risk it’s a sport that rewards those who are not just smart but often very very brave. no little voice in the back of their head telling them no to do that because they’ll die kinda deal. and marc absolutely does NOT have that voice, and vale i think DOES. to an extent. and i think all of his past traumas with his dad and friends dying/getting injured have made impacts on him in ways that have made him um. maybe more conscientious on track? a little less inclined to risk a little more inclined to plan

butttt that doesn’t mean he has the leeway to not be ruthless ! (and i think there’s something to it that he never won again after sic died…) so if youre valentino rossi and you add a romantic interest as a rival (especially. marc marquez.) suddenly there’s this HUGEEE internal conflict where vale might want (subliminally or consciously) to pull the proverbial punch— and frankly winning means too much to him for him to let that shit slide!! pulling the punch is absolutely NOT an option!! like i think one of the primary and sexiest tensions in the rosquez relationship is that racing is the most important thing to BOTH of them, (except when they’re making room to hate each other..) and they refuse to make sacrifices concerning racing for the sake of the other EVER. he can’t worry about marc (even though he clearly IS, and he keeps tabs on his injuries MANY times over the course of their friendship so i can’t imagine his throat didn’t close up when marc went flying on jerez a little bit)

so he can’t deal with marc as something that might make him vulnerable on ANY level and s he blows the relationship up. and then they stay apart because of all of those same reasons PLUS the drama of sepang. and then you add ARGENTINA into the mix, where vale is not only witnessing marc be reckless, he’s dragging vale HIMSELF into it, and i have a hard time conceptualizing a reunion while they’re still racing each other… like obviously i WILL mash them together like barbies but. this one is tough ! it gets at one of their deepest issues imo

so all this to say. jerez 2020 is weird because it’s the first season vale actually and for real starts to decline superrrr noticeably. so he’s in a weird place ego wise (he identifies it as the time he first thought about retiring) and MARC is in a weird place ego wise and i think. vale, if they HAD reconciled in 2019, has basically been on the edge of his seat waiting for something like this to happen for years. expects it a little bit in that same way you do if you’ve been traumatized in the same way enough. and marc breaks his arm and maybe vale has covid and can’t convince marc not to race (i think he’s maybe the only non alex who could !) and marc goes out there and like. does what he does and his arm gets fucked ! maybe forever ! and then i think it is. lowkey a nightmare for vale every second marc races after that. like it means too much to him he CANT stop marc from racing he’s seeing how much it’s ripped at him when he can’t climb on a bike (vale is the one who comes up with taking the wheels of marc’s training bikes) and he wants to ask him to just stop and be safe but he thinks marc might just. not get up from that really. can tell marc can’t be done before he turns 30 he won’t allow himself. and he does love marc but this IS a psychological torture chamber for vale in many respects. so he bites his tongue and traces marc’s scars and helps him with his PT and sees how much pain he’s in. and i think honestly it’s not a fun year in the household !

[aritany]

hi alex! I’ve always been in awe of your ability to write and finish first drafts at such good speed while having so much going on in your life. any tips for being able to write so prolifically?

hi anon! this is such a sweet message—thank you!

i do think it comes down to a few things in my nature (i LOVE to write and having an unfinished draft feels like having an open tab in my brain that drives me nuts) but there are definitely some external choices and strategies that help.

above all else, i write daily regardless of inspiration. i almost never sit down at the keyboard because i got inspired or motivated to, i sit down because that’s a part of every day. like any habit, this becomes easier with time.

secondly, it’s essential for me to remember that first drafts don’t have to be great. sometimes they are, and that’s cool. sometimes they’re severely lacking, and that’s also fine. a first draft’s only job is to exist and to be a skeleton that gets the story out and the baseline personalities onto the page. anything else is a bonus. the more you do it, the better your first drafts get. except for sometimes. but that’s what editing is for!

thirdly, but by far most importantly, i have an excellent cheerleading team. this doesn’t feel like something i do on purpose anymore, but i did work hard to build a community of close friends who also write and who have become incredible sources of inspiration. just last month @reininginthefirewriting came down for a writing retreat and helped crack open a huge mess in my brain that had become a mental block. @unlicensedmortician lives in my house (because we bonded so hard over what i’d been writing) and not only feeds me so i don’t have to worry about the meat suit, but also makes the impossible possible when i start getting weird in the brain. @ghostcasket is my partner both in writing and in life. another friend of mine helped me recover my voice after tradpub stripped it, and i got to hire them to be my paid editor for IWYW. (i met all four of them here on writeblr! go message that writer you like—it pays off) and that’s just to name a few. the last 4 years have brought incredible people into my life, and there would be many less drafts without them. (hi discord pocket family! love you guys)

i’ll also note: my familial obligations are much less than the average person. this is not for fun reasons, but it does help that within my own home writing mostly doesn’t have to bid for my attention against my immediate family.

also READ. read lots. nobody is joking when they tell you that helps. it’s so important. read in your genre and out of it. read EVERYTHING.

so: write when you don’t feel like it. let your first drafts be messy. invest in your writer friends. cut off your bigoted family i mean don’t do that. (or do.) READ.

i hope that helps!

[lauri-rosehearts]

Its been a while since I’ve actually sat down to discuss EAH lore or anything EAH related in general. I got a good amount of promps but right now I wanted to focus on one that was submitted to me by @birdbombs714 regarding my thoughts on Alistair and Lizzie’s relationship

Thank you so much for this idea! And happy birthday! (Edit: Where I live it’s already almost 1am so in my time zone, it’s technically the day after as I’m posting this so I’m a bit late. I’m so Sorry. I meant to post this sooner 😭) Thought I’d dedicate this one to you as a little gift if you will! Hope you enjoy :)

Something I find really interesting regarding Alistair and Lizzie in general is the fact that they’re one of very few “future villain and hero” duos that dont seem to have any sort of tense relationship. On the contrary, all the wonderlandians seem to have been good friends from a very young age. But as the characters destined to be the next Alice and the next Queen of Hearts, its very refreshing seeing these two just being friends with no real hard feelings towards each other. Like it honestly makes me wonder what kind of relationship their moms had.

You know I love going into the parents lore when it can provide an expansion on the children’s lore so lets talk about Alice and the Queen of Hearts real quick, both in the context of EAH and in the Alice in wonderland story. In the context of EAH, I don’t think they were ever super close friends like Alistair and Lizzie, but I do think they had a good deal of respect for each other even before committing to their stories. There never seems to be any implication that Lizzie’s mom hated Alistairs mom, which I actually find quite fitting given their characterization in the original story. What’s interesting about their dynamic in the original Alice in wonderland story is the fact that their dynamic isn’t really influenced by something personal like a good amount of fairytale hero and villain duos (for example: Snow White and the Evil Queen). Instead, it’s influenced by the fact that Alice finds herself in a place where all rules and logic work differently, hence why she runs into so many weird and frustrating misunderstandings with the characters. The Queen of Hearts is a temperamental tyrant whose bad side is very easy to get on given the amount of people she executes for petty reasons. Alice just so happens to especially gets on her bad side for the simple reason that Alice doesn’t know how to navigate the logic of the world shes in, and as a result she accidentally does and says things that go against the logic and customs of wonderland and as a result, especially piss off the Queen.

With that said, lets talk about how this translates over to Lizzie and Alistair. I’ve talked about this in the past, but I wholeheartedly subscribe to the theory that the reason Alistair’s last name is “Wonderland” instead of “Liddel” like Alice in the original story, is because during the Evil Queen’s takeover, Alice probably either disappeared or died (this is also potentially supported by the fact that we see all of the wonderlandians’ parents at some point with the exception of Alice), and so, Alistair was sort of co-parented and raised by all the other wonderlandians parents in Wonderland. And so, they renamed him from “Alistair Liddel” to “Alistair Wonderland” as a sort of tribute to both his mother and the world. We know Alistair canonically grew up in Wonderland unlike his mother, so he’s used to the logic and customs of the place despite the narrative of his story’s legacy saying otherwise. He quite literally grew up around Lizzie and the others and I actually attribute this to Lizzies relationship to her destiny. We know from her bio information that while she wants to follow her destiny, Lizzie wants to be a less villainous, kinder Queen of Hearts than her mom, and even then it’s implied her mom wasn’t actually that bad and became a lot more temperamental as a result of the wonderland curse (hence why I also think in the context of EAH, Alice and the Queen of Hearts didn’t dislike each other that much. ). Because Alistair and her were raised right alongside the other wonderlandians, Lizzie has no reason to dislike Alistair the way the Queen of Hearts does to Alice in the original story. On the contrary, she considers him one of her closest friends. Obviously, she probably has other reasons, but her friendship with Alistair is probably one reason she wants to be more lenient in her future reign.

That analysis aside, I definitely think they’re just friends, nothing romantic. I know some people ship them but I personally prefer Lizzie with Maddie and Kitty over anything. Also this is a 100% on the writers but when compared to Lizzie, Kitty, and Maddie, Alistair and especially Bunny’s characterization suffers pretty greatly, I feel. Mainly because most of their individual screentime is dedicated to their romantic feelings for each other, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but the way their relationship is portrayed frustrates me so much so I don’t really pay much attention to it. As a result though, it makes shipping Alistair with anyone else in his friend group also really hard, because when compared to someone like Lizzie who has a lot of development, he doesn’t feel as fleshed out, yknow. This isn’t Alistair slander, its just my personal view. When thinking of the 5 wonderlandians as a group, I think of them as a sort of found family more than anything. And as far as romantic shipping goes, I mainly focus on Lizzie, Kitty, and Maddie as a sort of poly relationship. But anything is valid as long as its not illegal, obviously.

I apologize if this feels really unorganized and convoluted but I had a lot of thoughts and I was trying my best to fit them in this post in a way that felt correlated 😭. But anyway, I don’t talk about Lizzie that often even though shes my favorite wonderland and overall right up there in my top 5 favorite characters in Ever After High so this enabled me to talk about her a pretty good bunch ❤️

[pinknipszz]

on the battlefield

“you just think about the life you’ll have together after the war.”

every single breath felt like a gold medal, branded with the same meaning: one more second alive, another moment lived. in this day and age, there is no greater privilege.

since the risk of an outbreak lurked at every corner, you took it upon yourself at a very early age to prepare as much as possible. to fight, to die, you didn’t know what. you just wanted to prepare. and you took the lessons very seriously. whether it be archery training, basic healing, or strategic planning, you try to excel as much as possible.

you weren’t the best, though, and you weren’t really bothered by it. there were many women in the clan who spent their entire lives devoted to just one practice, and while you honored them for it, you always prided yourself on being a “jack of all trades.” after all, you wanted to prepare for any possible situation. a situation, like right now.

being stranded on the border between the forest and the plains with neteyam of all na’vi wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you started training. you always thought you’d die a more heroic death, not with toruk makto’s eldest son, the future olo’eyktan. making it out alive suddenly became a bigger obligation than it would have been if it were just you.

nonetheless, alone or not, it was a dangerous situation to be in, so it was time to put your skills to good use.

after the initial shock of losing your direhorses, being kidnapped by RDA forces, killing said RDA forces, and falling hundreds of feet through the air off of a burning tawtute vessel, you and neteyam began to organize yourselves as much as possible.

“this looks like the southside of the forest, judging by the undergrowth.” he hummed, tracing a few markings in a tree and seemingly unbothered by your circumstances. “it’ll take days to reach homebase, unless someone notices we’re gone.”

as he continued to scout your nearby surroundings, you eyed him warily. you were never really close to neteyam, besides training with him on several occasions. after all, you two were in different circles, and you had no intentions of changing that by any means. he’s hard to read and never lets go of that princely facade.

that doesn’t mean you admire him any less, though.

“you don’t seem too worried.” you responded coolly. “why can’t we call on our ikrans?”

neteyam shook his head. “we’re too far from the rookery. they won’t hear us no matter how hard we try. if we start walking in this direction, we might make it there before tomorrow comes around.” after coming to a consensus, you began the journey back into the forest with him in the lead.

at first, it was awkward. unbearably so. if it weren’t for the sound of leaves rustling beneath your feet, you would’ve surely lost it. you tried to train your focus somewhere that wasn’t the wide expanse of his back or his braided, beaded locs, but it was nearly impossible. you were with one of the most important people in the clan for ewya’s sake! you had to keep an eye on him as much as possible.

it was a responsibility at this point. you didn’t even want to think about the consequences if he was injured upon your return.

“what have you been up to nowadays?” neteyam suddenly broke the silence, reeling you back into reality with the sound of his voice right next to you. when you turned to look up at him, you realized that he had slowed his steps to walk by your side. he smiled kindly, waiting for a response.

“not much.” you sighed. “i’ve just been working on my weaving skills back home. my mom injured herself recently, so she can’t make any of the hammocks or tarps she promised our neighbors. i’m taking her spot for the time being. what about you?”

“nothing new, just training with my father. he’s been breathing down my neck like crazy!” he laughed, and you couldn’t help but join him.

it continued like this for a few hours, exchanging stories and catching up like old friends. it still felt odd and a little weird but you didn’t complain. as the sun came down, you noticed that the princely facade began to chip away piece by piece, and neteyam began to look more and more like any other na’vi. a na’vi with fears and problems and dreams of their own.

when the moon finally settled, you two followed suit. neteyam was in charge of building a small fire while you went out to look for food to eat. this arrangement was for the better, considering that he nearly ate a fruit from a tree he didn’t recognize. luckily, you did, and you quickly pulled him away when you remembered the nasty consequences that came with digesting them.

as you sat side-by-side near the fire, satisfied with the meal you conjured, you decided to tease him a little. “i thought they would’ve at least taught you the basics about foraging.”

neteyam rolled his eyes playfully, swatting you away. “ha ha, very funny. honestly, i’m not into that kind of stuff. my sister kiri loves learning about plants, though, and she’s really smart.”

“you should learn a thing or two from her then.” you snickered.

“as if. she’s a horrible teacher.” he snorted. “i should learn from you instead. what got you interested in plants anyway?”

ignoring his previous statement and its implications, you simply shrugged. when you thought he’d drop the subject, he just waited for you patiently. it was a common theme with him, you realized. he never pushed or prodded, instead lending you the reins to the conversation so you can steer it in any direction.

“i’m not really interested in plants.” you finally admitted, looking away from him. “i just thought it’d be useful to learn more about them.”

“talk about being resourceful. i’ll have you promoted to ‘chief forager’ one day.” when you didn’t quip back, neteyam’s smile dropped slightly. he studied you for a bit while you were lost in thought, carefully choosing his next few words. “do you feel this way with all the other stuff too?”

“sometimes. ever since i was younger, i had this feeling that i had to prepare for something. whatever i learned and perfected didn’t feel like enough to me, so i kept practicing and practicing new things i didn’t really like. it was exhausting, but it’s the only way for me to get rid of that feeling.”

whoever said that admitting the truth out loud would make you feel lighter was a liar, and you had this moment to prove it. to you, the silence was awkward and uncomfortable, but to neteyam, it was anything but such.

“you keep saying ‘prepared.’” he said slowly. “but i think it’s just your mind tricking you into feeling safe.”

you looked up and found a strange look twinkling in the depths of his eyes.

neteyam continued. “i feel the same way everyday, always pushing myself to train and train for days on end, preparing for a war that might never happen. i lose all sense of who i am, and all i think about is what i’m for, to the point where living feels like an obligation.”

“but it isn’t.” you finished quietly, reaching a newfound conclusion. once he realized you had caught on, he left you to ponder your thoughts, self-satisfied with his efforts to extend his peace.

“neteyam?”

he hummed back, urging you to continue.

“what do you plan to do after the war, if we ever have one?” it was your turn to stare at him, and you were taken aback at how pleasantly the fire illuminated his face.

“i don’t know. what about you?”

again, you shrugged. you couldn’t hold back the uncontrollable laughter bubbling in your throat, to which neteyam found contagious. “i guess we’ll figure it out together.”

(masterlist)