#long word vomit because if you thought i loved my characters as muses wait until you learn how much i love them as npcs

[thegreatestofheck]

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 2 ✘JJ Maybank✘

You can find part one here! 

(not my gif. All credit to goeatsomelife!) Part 2/?

Word Count - 6300 Warnings - Mentions of abuse, swearing, non-graphic depictions of abuse (throwing/shoving) Summary - After your first secret rendezvous with JJ, you can’t seem to take your mind off him. Your “disagreement” with Rafe Cameron intensifies. Late in the night, JJ climbs through your window and things ends less than satisfactorily between the two of you.  A/N - As with the last part, this is written in second person, but you’re given a name. I have always found the Y/N thing distracting, so I gave the character a name, but, as always, you can read over it. Thank you all so much for your love!

It was almost summer. Once summer started, your dad was much more relaxed than during school time. That meant you might be able to actually leave the house to do more than go to work. You’d seen JJ a few times on the way to or from work, but it wasn’t more than a passing glance. When he drove past you with the rest of his pogue friends or when you looked out the window of your work to see him zooming down the marsh on John B’s boat. You really tried not to think of him, tried not to feel his lips against your neck, but between the mindless monotony of work, the hours of endless school, and the long and restless nights, sometimes it felt like there was nothing else to think about. 

Before JJ swept into your life like a tidal wave, your mind went into autopilot as you went about your day. You could just do your tasks without thinking, but now it seemed that all you could do was think. A part of you wondered if he was intentionally avoiding you. He did say he had a habit of pushing people away.    The other part of you knew that part of you was an idiot because the only time you weren’t at home was when you were at work and the restaurant you worked at wasn’t a place JJ was likely to visit. Besides, you never told him where you worked. You were being paranoid, you told yourself. You also tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter if JJ was intentionally ignoring you because there was no way Dad would ever, in a million years, let you so much as hang out with someone like JJ. Your dad wanted you to hang with people like Rafe, which you very plainly told him was never going to happen. Still, since your dad had every intention of making your life a living hell, he invited the Camerons over to your house one day. You might have screamed when he told you. He told you to dress your best and you almost threw on a hoodie and sweatpants, even if it was getting hotter with every day. Sweating for hours would have been worth it if Dad would never invite the Camerons over again. Unfortunately, Dad and Ward Cameron worked together, Kid had a crush on Wheezie, and you actually liked Sarah, so you decided to at least brush your hair and do everyone the decency of wearing something other than sweat pants.    You came downstairs in a summer dress that fell just above your knees. When you looked in the mirror and realized that spaghetti straps probably weren’t the best formal attire, you threw a t-shirt on underneath and hoped it was good enough to get out of a beating tonight. You helped your dad make dinner (mostly with the things that didn’t require cooking). Kid set the table and for a moment, it almost felt like you were apart of a normal family. Your dad had been especially nice since he and Kid came back from the mainland, which was surprising. You were hoping to stay on his good side so you could maybe ask to go out sometimes during the summertime. But she would have to wait and see how dinner went. 

You plastered on a smile when the Camerons first walked in the door. You gave Sarah and Wheezie hugs and shook Rafe’s hand amicably, smiling despite how hard he squeezed your hand. You gave Rose a hug as well and Ward planted a kiss on top of your head. Ward was a pretty cool guy and, as far as you were concerned, a pretty good dad. Sometimes you wished he was your own father, that way, you wouldn’t wake up in fear every morning. But, that was life. Your two families joined at dinner, which went pretty well, until the second course.    “Rafe my boy, is that a bruise under your eye?” Your dad asked. You froze halfway through spooning some garlic mashed potatoes into your mouth. “Oh, yes,” Rafe said after clearing his throat. “Whatever happened?” You wished your dad would stop asking questions. Still, you tried to look engaged in the conversation as to not give yourself away. 

“You should ask your daughter about that,” Rafe said. Shit. “Elma?” All eyes turned to you and you plastered a concerned smile onto your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, giving your head a little shake. You saw Wheezie raise her eyebrows and hide a smile behind a roll of bread. “You don’t remember socking me in the face?” Rafe ground out through his teeth, his knuckles turning white as he clenched the knife in his hand. “No, I don’t.” “Elma, what is this about?” “Your daughter, sir, attacked me the other night at a-” If Rafe said anything about a party, you knew you were never getting out of this house until your dad died. So you switched up your lie. “Oh right,” you said with a sickly sweet smile. “I remember now. I hit you after you insulted my mother.” Your dad’s confused demeanor switched suddenly. You could feel the air in the room turn like the winds during a storm. Mentioning your mother was one way to win your father over. Yes, she had abandoned you all, but your father still loved her and she was still perfect in his eyes. How that worked, you weren’t entirely sure, but you sure as hell knew how to manipulate it. “Rafe!” Ward barked.

“What? No!” The poor boy was obviously confused as to how the table got turned on him so quickly. To up the ante, you sniffled, refusing to let yourself blink so tears would brim at the bottom of your eyes. “He called mom a...a...oh, I don’t want to say it,” you said with a quiet sigh. “You’re not falling for this!” Rafe shouted.    “Rafe, shut up!” “What did he say, sweetie?” Rose asked, reaching out to sympathetically take your hand. “He called her a….” You lowered your voice. “A slut.” Your dad stood suddenly. “Gerald,” Ward said, standing as well and putting a hand out. “I don’t think Rafe meant it and whatever he said, clearly Elma here made him pay for it.” Your dad was smoldering. Rage made his hands shake by his sides and for once, that rage wasn’t tunneled at you. Sarah elbowed you lightly and when you looked at her, you could almost see a smile on her face as Rose yelled at Rafe and Ward tried to talk your dad down from killing him then and there. “Ah, chaos,” Wheezie mused, chewing on another piece of bread. Kid’s cheeks reddened. The arguing died down eventually and they all went back to eating peacefully. Rafe glared at you the entire rest of night and every time you met his gaze, you simply raised an eyebrow. By the time dinner was over, everyone was exhausted and had no brain capacity to play games as they usually did. As the hostess, you walked the Camerons to the door as your dad and Kid started to clean up the dining room. As before, you hugged the girls and Rose as they left. Sarah whispered an invite to a party in your ear as she hugged you, which you were glad for. ‘Going over to Sarah’s’ was always a good excuse to get out of the house. Your dad almost always let you go. Ward said nothing but put a parting hand on your shoulder. Instead of just walking by like he should have, Rafe grabbed your wrist and pulled you in close, trying to emulate a hug. “Never throw me under the bus again,” he hissed in your ear. “Then don’t pick fights you can’t win,” you whispered right back. He let go of you with a huff and stormed out the door. You shut it behind him, resisting the urge to slam it. “What was that about?” Your dad asked, leaning against the wall. You smiled sweetly. “Olive branch,” was all you said. He nodded slowly. “I love you for defending your mother-” The words stung and caused your smile to falter for a moment. “But you shouldn’t go around punching people, especially my partners’ son.” “I understand, Daddy,” you said, walking over to him. Kiss ass? You bet. Anything to get what you wanted and all you wanted was to get out of this house. He put an arm around you and kissed your forehead, making you want to vomit. “Why don’t you go to bed? Bradford and I can finish up down here,” he said. You glanced over to Kid, who was grinning like an idiot. He must have said ‘bye’ to Wheezie before she left. The little kid’s smile forced your fake one into something almost real. You nodded before stepping away from your dad. “Hey, kiddo?” Your heart exploded at the nickname, pulse racing. You hated it when he called you that because it felt like something a real dad would call the daughter that he actually cared for. It felt too close to love to make you comfortable. You turned slowly to look at him again. “I love you, you know that?”    You nodded again, but your fingers went for the scar on your hand. He said he loved you, but you knew he didn’t. Maybe he defended you from Rafe tonight, but tomorrow he might bash your head into the wall. You walked to your room like a slug, barely picking your feet off the ground. As soon as the door was closed, you tore the dress off, standing in just the t-shirt. Pulling off the dress was like taking off a weight and tossing it on the floor was like breathing fresh air. You weren’t ready to sleep, no, there was too much rattling around in your head to sleep. Instead, you turned the radio on in your room, keeping it at just the right volume where your dad wouldn’t come in, but just loud enough to drown out your thoughts. The first song got you out of your funk. The second one got you moving your hips. By the third, you were jumping around, screaming the words silently into your hairbrush. You weren’t a dancer, never had been, but when you let the music guide you, it didn’t matter. The beat thrummed through you, moving your body as it pleased. You were deep in a song when you heard a tap at your window. It startled you out of the flow, but when you looked outside the window and saw no one, you were tempted to start dancing again. The tap came again so you turned the music down and watched the window carefully. The third tap came from a rock that you saw, so you walked over to your window and opened it, peeking your head out. “Hello?” You whispered into the night. Was hello the best you could think of? Now you were surely going to get ax murdered by whoever, or whatever, was throwing rocks at your window. You scowled into the night and were about to turn back inside when a familiar face popped up onto the roof below your window. “Maybank?” You said his name louder than you should have, but he was the last person you expected to throw rocks at your window at ten o’clock at night. “Hey,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Get in here,” you said, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him inside. You shut the window and turned around to scold him for being so stupid but before you could say anything, his hands were on your cheeks, his lips against yours. And once again, you melted away. The riptide, the salty waves, the sand, the ice cold water. Your stomach rolled, your lungs screaming for breath, but you didn’t pull away. It was the sound of creaking floorboards outside your room that finally broke you away from him. Your eyes went straight for the door. When no more sounds came, you finally relaxed, sitting on your bed with a sigh. “What are you doing here?” You asked him. JJ jumped backward onto your bed, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. 

“I wanted to see you.” “And if my dad finds you?” JJ sat up and placed a kiss against your shoulder. You sighed to cover a shudder. “I’m very quiet,” he whispered against your skin. 

“Maybank-” “What happened to calling me by my first name?” He asked with a knowing smile. “I’ve never called you JJ,” you said, crossing your arms in defiance. You knew perfectly well you had, but it was a moment of weakness and it wasn’t going to happen again. “You did,” he said, kissing your neck. “When I-” You stood, stepping away from him.    “You don’t get to break into my room and start making me feel all-” You waved her hands in the air as if that explained what you were feeling. Leaning against his hands, JJ tilted his head to the side with a goofy smile on his face. “Don’t look at me like that,” you said, crossing your arms again. “Like what?” “Like I’m-” Like I’m someone you actually care about. You were both quiet, soaking each other in, waiting for the other to make the next move. The song on the radio changed. “I like this song,” JJ said, jumping up from the bed. He reached out to take your hands, but you refused. “C’mon. I saw you dancing just now. I know you can.” “I only dance when I’m drunk or when no one’s watching,” you said. “At least when I think no one’s watching.” 

JJ grinned at you, stepping forward to the beat. It took all of your strength not to laugh or even smile at the way he moved. You knew that he was just trying to make you break, but you weren’t about to give in. He took your hands in his and started to move to the beat, dancing like a middle school boy. You pursed your lips to keep from laughing. “I would be better if you were leading,” he said, laughing at himself. “Oh no,” you said, a smile betraying you. “You’re doing wonderfully.” 

He ran one of his hands up your arm until it was cradling your neck. You tried to move away by turning your head, but you didn’t really want to move away from him. Who needed alcohol when you had JJ Maybank to intoxicate you? “What are you doing here?” You asked him again. “I told you.” His thumb brushed against your jaw. “I wanted to see you.” “Why?” You asked him. “I thought you ran away from people so you didn’t hurt them?” “Couldn’t stay away,” he said, his lips getting steadily closer to yours. You should move away, should put as much distance between you and him as you could. If he was the boy who ran to protect others, you were the girl who ran to protect yourself. Survival was the key. If weren’t around, who would protect Kid? If you weren’t around, who would Dad turn his anger toward? And if you didn’t get away from JJ now, how fast were you going to fall? “Fuck you,” you whispered before moving forward the slightest bit that it took for your lips to meet his. He didn’t taste like alcohol this time. You knew he had gone surfing today because he was much saltier than before. You lifted your hands, knocking his backward hat off of his head so you could run your fingers through his hair. For a boy who always smelled like the sea, his hair was soft. The harder you pressed yourself against him, the harder he held onto you. He curled his fingers around your waist and you knew that it would leave marks, but you didn’t care. His other hand rested against your collarbone, circling around the base of your neck like a loose necklace. When you parted for air, you threw your head back, gasping, but JJ didn’t stop. He nipped at your chin and jaw with his teeth and shit it felt like you were going to explode from the inside out. The ocean roared in your ears, your gut, your heart. You pushed him backward, putting your mouth on his once again. You led him backward until he hit the bed and the two of you toppled over. Somewhere between standing and falling, JJ flipped you around so when your back hit the bed, you were underneath him. 

“You are okay?” He asked you. Instead of responding, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer. You could feel his smile pressed against your lips and your stomach flipped in a thousand different directions. One of JJ’s hands rested on your knee as he settled between your legs. For half a moment, you felt a twinge of fear enter your system. But when you felt JJ’s teeth graze against your lower lip, the fear went away, replaced by the storm that raged every time he touched you. Your mind was empty when JJ was kissing you. It was like everything else melted away and it was just him. The weight of his body wasn’t like the heaviness of pain or worry or anxiety or fear. He was a welcomed pressure, keeping you grounded, together. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a pressure point, relaxing but keeping you alive. The mood once against shifted when JJ started to slide his hand up your leg. As soon as his hand started to move, it was the only thing you could feel. You tried to push past it, tried to ignore it, tried to fall back into the current, but you couldn’t. His hand inching its way farther up your leg was the only thing on your mind as you attempted to pretend that it didn’t bother you. You had to get over your aversion to sex eventually, right? Why not now? You barely realized when JJ pulled away. He hovered just above you, but you wouldn’t meet his eyes, mind still on his hand. You just needed to suck it up, to push through. It wasn’t until he moved his hand from your thigh that you really realized what happened. You turned your head to meet his eyes, but could only handle it for a second. The same shame that you felt when you had first told him weeks ago burned within you once again. It ate away at you, from the inside. You were damaged goods, you knew that. But all you wanted was to be like every other girl your age who could happily have sex with as many people as they wanted without being filled with crippling anxiety. You rolled out from underneath JJ, who moved his arm to let you go with a sigh.    “I’m sorry,” you said, sitting on the edge of your bed with his back to him. “Not your fault,” he said. “I shouldn’t have pushed.” You breathed out heavily, pressing your hands against your eyes. Your legs bounced beneath you, trying to shake out the anxiety. A portion of you wanted JJ to just leave so you knew that he wasn’t looking at you anymore. You weren’t sure you could bear it any longer. But he didn’t leave. You felt the bed dip underneath him as he moved across the bed to sit next to you. “I’m sorry,” you said again.    “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced at him and he was grinning like nothing happened. “I can take care of myself.” You scoffed and your lips twitched upward. Even in the middle of wanting to die of shame, he still somehow managed to make you smile. “You’re disgusting,” you said, giving a quiet laugh. JJ echoed your laugh, casting his eyes to the ground. “Thank you for understanding,” you said, sucking in a breath in hopes of steadying yourself. JJ planted a quick kiss on your shoulder before flopping back onto the bed. You laid back beside him with a sigh. “What’s your favorite color?” You asked him when you felt the silence had gone on for too long. JJ hummed, glancing down at you. He rolled his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. You copied the movement, mocking his scowl. “My favorite color is...whatever color your eyes are.” You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, Maybank!” You said, your smile sticking. When you looked at him again, you found that he hadn’t looked away. “What’s your favorite color?” JJ pursed his lips and sighed. “I’ve never thought about it?” “Never thought about your favorite color?” “No, never seemed important.” “Well,” you said, looking up at the ceiling. “What’s your favorite thing in the whole world?” “Weed, probably,” JJ said. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and tapped his shoulder with his fist. “Okay, jeez, something else. I like surfing and hanging out with the Pogues, I guess.” “So the ocean!” You said with a smile. “You like the ocean.” “Yeah, I guess.” “So, blue, like the ocean?” 

“Maybe.” “Alright. Well, you think about your favorite color and get back to me,” you said. “Why?” he scoffed. 

“Because you said it was never important, but it’s important to me.” JJ turned his head to the side to look at you again. He was silent for a moment, like he was thinking about what he was going to say next. There was a second when you thought he might say something, but then he looked back up at the ceiling. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked. 

“I really like a good burgundy,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “I mean, if you ever see my winter closet, you’ll see just how much I love burgundy.” “I have way too many questions about that statement,” JJ said, shaking his head. “What do you mean?” “First of all, I’m not sure burgundy is a color-” “It’s a shade of red.” 

“-Second of all, you have a winter closet?” “According to my dad, a great way to make up for bruising me up is to buy me clothes. So, yeah, I have a winter closet.” 

“God, I hate kooks.” You wanted to ask him a thousand more questions about a hundred different things. Sure, kissing him was like nothing else you’d ever felt before, but just being able to sit there and talk to him, to ask him things, to learn about him, was something else entirely. The only person you ever had was Kid and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see the worst things that happened between you and your Dad. You’d had two civil conversations with JJ and already he knew more about you than anyone else. You wanted nothing more than to spend the entire night talking to him. Unfortunately, your nosey father had other plans. You heard his footsteps and instantly shot upward. “What is it?” JJ asked. “You need to go,” you said. “I think we’ve been here before,” JJ said, refusing to sit up. “Yes, we have. Come on, let’s get you out the window.” You ran toward the window and threw it open, only to find that JJ was still laying on your bed. “Maybank, get up!” “I don’t want to.” “JJ, if my dad finds you in here, we’re both dead.” He looked up at her, tilting his head backward. You were breathing heavily, listening to the sound of your dad’s footfalls grow closer. Your heart pounded in your chest. You were smarter than this, you had to be smarter than this. Letting JJ in here was a terrible mistake. After spending almost your entire life trying to diffuse every situation before it began, you let your guard down for one stupid boy and now this stupid boy wasn’t getting out of your room and you were going to pay for it. Just as your dad was right outside the door and JJ still hadn’t moved, your pounding heart stopped. The doorknob was turning. You had to think of something. Get yourself out of this, you thought to yourself. You can get yourself out of this.    “Don’t come in!” You called out. The doorknob stopped turning. JJ sat up, eyeing you carefully with a raised eyebrow. “Honey?” Your dad said from outside the door. “Are you alright?” You met JJ’s gaze, your own eyes wide. Your heart started thumping again, beating so hard you were sure JJ could see it about to pound its way out of your chest. He gave you a short nod and you breathed in deeply. “Yeah, Dad. I, uh, I started my period.” JJ dropped his head into his palms. You glared at him, sneering your teeth as his quiet laughter got a little bit too loud.    “Oh, um.” You heard the discomfort in your dad’s voice and he let out a cough. “Do you need any help?” “No, Dad, I’m okay. I can handle it,” you said. “But thank you.” “Just let me know if you need anything,” he said. “I came over to ask if you could turn your music down a little bit.” You nodded. “Yeah, sure,” you said. JJ reached over and twisted the knob on the radio, turning the music down. “Thanks, sweetheart,” your dad said. “Sleep well.” “Night, Dad.” You didn’t take a steady breath until the footsteps were silent. Once your dad was safe in his room, you turned to JJ with smoldering eyes. “Get out of my room, JJ.” “You called me JJ again.” 

“Shut up!” You snapped. “Listen to me, and you listen good. If my dad ever found out you were here, even if he didn’t know we were just...whatever. If he knew you were here, you would never see me again because I would be dead, do you understand that?” “He won’t know,” JJ said with a shrug. “You’re so frustrating!” “Ellie….” He stood and walked over to you, but you stepped back away from him, your eyes still narrowed. “All my life, I’ve done everything I can to stay alive, to just live to the next day,” you said. “And you walk in and fuck it all up. I can’t...I just want to survive, JJ. And I can’t do that if you’re constantly putting all of that at risk.” “What’s the point of staying alive if you’re not doing anything with that life?” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean?” JJ took another step toward you and this time, you didn’t step away. “You can’t just survive and not live a little every now and again.” You shut your eyes, hands shaking as you put them over your cheeks to try and steady your trembling jaw. “Maybe you can smoke and drink and hook up with girls and speed around in your boat with your friends and call that living, but that isn’t a liberty that I have.” You let out a shaky breath, hands falling to your sides. JJ kept his gaze on the ground, refusing to look at you. “Look, we can’t do this here. Just...I’ll see you around.” JJ didn’t say anything. He nodded slowly, snatching his hat off the ground and heading off toward the open window. You pressed your lips together into a thin line, wrapping your arms around your stomach. “There’s a party at the Cameron’s that we’re hijacking this Friday,” he said as he climbed out the window. “See you there?” You nodded. “Yeah.” You watched as he clambered down from your roof. He ran across your lawn and you didn’t close the window until he was long out of sight. 

You went to work the next morning, your eyes stinging and mind blurry. Sleeping after JJ left was nearly impossible. It didn’t matter how little sleep you got, you needed to work. It wasn’t like you needed money to survive. Your dad paid for food and shelter and a data plan, but if Kid wanted anything other than that and clothes, it usually came from you. If you wanted a new pair of shoes or a tattoo, the money came from your bank account. All the rest of your money went to your savings, with which you would eventually buy a lawyer after you turned 18 to win custody of Kid, buy a house somewhere, and live far, far away from your dad. You needed to keep this job, maybe even find another one for over the summer, so you could get yourself and your kid brother to a safe home. This was what you reminded yourself as you drove to work in the truck you begged your dad for last year. There was a reason you never got yourself tangled up in the whole “relationship” mess. It was more than often confusing and took too much brainpower, brainpower you needed to use to keep yourself out of trouble. You couldn’t risk your eyes straying from the road you were on, not even for someone like JJ. As soon as his name popped into your head, it was like the universe decided to test you, to make sure that you really could keep your eyes on the road without succumbing to temptation. Driving to work, this test was literal. With your windows down, you heard his laugh first. You sniffled and kept your eyes fixed on the road. Focus was key. Keep your eyes on the road, keep your goals ahead of you. You had a plan and no one, not even JJ Maybank, could throw a wrench in it. But then you glanced out the window and wished you had listened to the universe when it told you to keep your eyes forward. JJ was standing and talking to someone, carrying his usual smile. You meant to look away before you saw who it was that he was talking to, but you didn’t. There was a girl sitting on the railing in front of one of the stores. JJ was standing in between her legs, his hands on her knees. Your heart skipped and you tried to look away again but then the girl, Peeler you thought her name might have been, put her hands on his face and pulled him closer to her. You looked back at the road before you had to see her kiss him. Keeping your mind off of it at work was like trying to keep seagulls away from baby sea turtles. Despite the fact that, as a Greeter, you spent your entire first shift on Thursdays talking to people, you still somehow managed to spend almost every hour thinking about it. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like you or JJ were dating or anything. Making out a couple of times didn’t constitute a relationship in any stretch of the term, so you had no claim on him. You had no place to be upset. Still, you were. There was only an hour left in your first shift and an hour after that when your second shift started. Thursdays were always long, but mentally complaining about a boy didn’t make it any shorter. You really just wanted the day to be over so you could just go home and crash. You took Fridays off of work to do school and recover from working for 16 hours. You just had to get through the rest of this day and that would be that. By the time both of your shifts were done, you had already planned out a million ways to verbally beat JJ to death. You spent the entirety of your second shift in the back room washing dishes. Naturally, that meant, not only were you exhausted, but you were sweaty, your hair was frizzy, and your fingers were like prunes. And you wanted to tear someone’s head off. Your drive home was just like any other. You wanted nothing more than to shower and drop dead into your bed. “Dad? I’m home!” You called as you shut the door behind you. As soon as you stepped inside, you knew something was wrong. Kid was sitting on the stairs, sniffling, and banging sounds were coming from the kitchen. “Hey,” you said, scowling as you walked over to your brother. “Kid, what’s wrong?” When he lifted his face from his hands, you saw the ring of a bruise around his eye and blood began to boil in your system. You straightened your spine, clenching your jaw to keep your rage inside. “Dad...he-” You didn’t have to hear anything else before you booked it for the kitchen. “El, wait!” You ignored Kid as he tried to stop you. But nothing was going to stop your warpath, not today. You turned into the kitchen, dropping your bag of clothes on the floor. “Dad, what the fuck?” Your dad was frantically cleaning dishes, his hands shaking. “Don’t talk to me like that, young lady,” he said, not looking up at you. “What did you do to Kid?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady and calm. Right now, you didn’t really care about escalating. Whenever Dad hit you, you had few issues getting over it. But any time he laid even a finger on your brother, you could never let it go. “He gave me mouth.” “So you punched him?” If you hadn’t shouted, you may have gotten away with the potty mouth and talking back, but of course, you weren’t getting away that easy tonight. Your dad spun around quickly, throwing the pot he was holding straight at you. You barely had time to dodge it before the pot hit you square in the face. It ding’d off of your shoulder, but adrenaline dulled the pain for a moment. “You don’t get to tell me how to parent my kids,” he seethed, marching up to you and putting a finger in your face. “Smacking Kid around isn’t parenting, Dad.” He shoved you backward and you tripped over one of the chairs, knocking your head against the leg of the table. The sting was instant. You rolled over, squeezing your eyes shut. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” your dad said, making a move to help you up. You put your hand out so he wouldn’t come any closer. He took a step back. “El!” You heard Kid cry from the entryway. You shook your head, trying to clear your tremoring mind. You pushed yourself off the floor, using the table to get you on your feet. Tears gathered in your eyes, either from the physical pain in your shoulder and head or from the fact that your dad just shoved you to the floor. Your dad stood back, hands in the air. “El….” “Kid, stay back,” you said, keeping your eye on your dad. You slid your hand off of the table. “I’m taking Kid upstairs.” Your dad said nothing. “We’re going upstairs and you’re not going to follow us,” you said. Slowly, your dad nodded, stepping back. You shuffled over to Kid and put an arm around him, one part herding him away and one part using him to lean on. “Are you okay?” Kid asked, tears still in his eyes. You nodded at him and tried to smile. “C’mon. You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.” 

You woke up the next morning with a headache that felt like a hangover. Kid was curled up on your bed still, the sun shining through the window. When you looked over at the clock, you were appalled to see that it was a quarter past 8. Kid was late for school. “Shit.” You rolled out of your chair, every bone in your body tight and cracking. Your shoulder ached and there was a dull pain in the back of your head. “Hey, Kid,” you whispered, shaking your brother’s arm gently. “You gotta go to school.” Kid groaned, rolling over onto his back. You smiled down at him as he blinked his eyes a few times. “What time is it?” “Little after 8.”

“I’m already late. I’ll ditch today.” “You’re not a pogue, Kid. You have to go to school.” Kid grumbled and rolled out of your bed. “You stink,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “I didn’t get to take my shower last night,” you replied, arms crossed and a little smile on your lips. You looked down at his face, saw the outline of the bruise again. You tried to swallow the anger that bubbled inside you again at the thought of it. “Let’s go, Kid.” Thirty minutes later, you were outside of Kid’s school. “Thanks, El,” he said, hopping out of the car. “Have a good day. I’ll see you later,” you called after him. With a smile and a wave, he disappeared inside the school building. The drive back home was peaceful. The sun was out, a breeze blowing through your car windows. The constant thrum of pain in your shoulder kept your mind clear, your eyes set on the road. You pulled up to a stoplight, closing your eyes, letting the sun warm your skin. “Hey, Ellie!” Your eyes shot open and you turned the voice. JJ ran over to you, Pope Heyward by his side. Your heart started to pound. Before he and his friend could get any closer, the light turned green and you stepped on the gas. “Ellie?” Your car sputtered forward before taking off, leaving JJ and Pope in a trail of dust. 

#jj maybank #jj obx #jj x reader #jj x oc #pope heyward #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #ward cameron #oc #series #outer banks #obx #pope obx #sarah obx #tw: abuse #rafe obx

[chaoticspacefam]

2020 In Review: Wordcount Tag

I was tagged for this by @actualanxiousswampwitch​ , thank you! I’m not sure who’s already done or been tagged for this cause I am, once again, late to the party LOL but I shall (no pressure and sorry if you’ve already done it!) tag: @rainofaugustsith​ , @darth-bagel​ , @thatmmolesbian​ , @thelastenvoyyy​ and anybody else who wants to do this. Yes, I promise I mean you!

Words: 45,314

Published: 0 (I’m not counting the couple of Six Sentence tags I’ve gotten, they’re snippets of an unfinished piece & are included below instead :), or roleplay replies, cause that feels like cheating lol.) I actually wrote a lot more than I thought I had, this is a rough guesstimate as well, as my oneshot WIPs tend to be all over the place across something like 6 different documents, some of which have existed since 2018, so I had to guess at how far up to count from the end for some of them, but I think it’s a fair guesstimate XD I also have included lore/worldbuilding docs in this because that was a 3-month long Lockdown 1.0 Boredom/”Canon is a trash fire so I’m ignoring that and making up my own lore” passion project and I’m goddamn proud of how much I wrote for that. It’s the most I’ve written in one stretch (think I finished it over a span of 3 nights or so, once I’d done all the research and made all the notes ofc ^^)

Not Published: 45,314

The Breakdown:

swtor - 45,314

for creeping shadows (my main longfic/part one of the subterfugeverse series) - 1,553  - Aria, stop being difficult! *shakes fists* XD

oneshots - 16,223

lore/worldbuilding (for subterfugeverse naturally) - 23,001 (is this ALL tomato alien lore? pretty much, yes, yes it is :’D ~400 words is “the WIP reworked timeline to correlate my worldbuilding with the canon timeline that was released”, but 98% is just...me thinking way too much about Purebloods and how they deserved way better goddamn lore. I blame @fluffynexu ‘s amazing tomato worldbuilding posts,  reading them when I went looking for “canon” lore one day for the rp is what got me started down that rabbithole (it’s awesome and if you haven’t already you should totally go check hers out too :DD), I had a “fuck you then canon I’ll do it myself too >:L” moment and once I started I couldn’t stop until I’d crapped out literally over 20k words on the subject *whispering* thank you LOL)

zephyrverse au bonus oneshots - 4,537 (stuff I wrote to fill in time gaps or “just cause I had a plot bunny”, relating to mine and k-christine’s zephyrverse au rp. None of these will likely be posted publicly, but they still deserve to be counted as words I wrote this year :’D

As you can see, most of my “muse” this year came from sporadic oneshots :’D The Ahaszaai twins also properly plot-bunnied their way into my brain in late 2019 and haven’t stopped making a nuisance of themselves the whole fucking year. Every time I tried to carry on with a chapter, one of the two of them would pop up like “Nooo write about ME! pay attention to ME!” - Yes, Ni’kasi, I will get to you this year, I promise XD

New Things I Tried:

Just Writing. Not worrying about whether “it wasn’t part of the next chapter” or “it comes from a part in the story that I’m nowhere near close to posting yet”. If I felt like writing something, or for a specific pairing/feeling/scene, whatever. I wrote until I ran outta muse juice. Yeah, it meant I didn’t technically “finish” anything this year BUT - the important thing is I wrote stuff. and that’s all that really matters, eh? :’D

Polyam ships! May not seem like a big deal but I spent a long time talking myself out of them because of internalised toxic monogamy and finally saying “you know what, fuck it! I can ship three or more people together and it can still be a perfectly wholesome, healthy and loving relationship and that’s okay” was a BIG thing for me this year.

Dialogue Scripts: which I didn’t count as wordcount because really it’s just word vomit of general tone/inflection and dialogue that I came up with right before falling asleep which I didn’t want to lose. Basically, if an exchange or a particularly punchy or moving line of dialogue popped into my brain but I wasn’t ready to write the whole scene that it fit into out, but didn’t want to forget the line(s). I wrote it out in movie script/script-style roleplay fashion e.g. Character’s Name: (emotion, hand gestures etc.) [Dialogue here] and so on. I know this is probably a well known trick of the trade, but I never took it seriously until this year. Seriously, do it. It’s great.

Favorite Thing I Wrote:

Hmmm, a snippet for Andronikos/Ni’kasi that I started this week which isn’t posted yet (saving it for this week’s Six Sentence Sunday so look out for it! :D) was pretty fun to work on, I love their dynamic and Kas is suprisingly fun to write for.

Also the Aria/Vano proposal scene that I posted a snippet for the week before last. I’m having great fun with that scene, and I really enjoy putting a non-serious spin on the classic “proposal scene” tropes. Can’t wait to finish it, though it may be a while before the full one goes up on AO3, as it depends whether it ends up fitting in as part of the mainfic or as an additional oneshot

And I have a D’leah/Kissai oneshot that I need to give another once-over before I finally yeet it onto AO3 and Tumblr for you guys to see :’D

Favorite Fic I Read:

@sleepswithvillains Eleanora/Quinn fic, Helplessly Hoping. I’m horribly behind on chapters and I gotta catch up and read the finale this week, but it’s been a helluva great ride and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the story! <3

Also The Invitation collab with @tishinada featuring Zas and Fiona had me squealing, I can’t wait to catch up on HH and see more of these two, they’re adorable ;-; @a-muirehen​ ‘s Relu/Merkara series of course! I’m a complete sucker for (friends to lovers to in Ariano’s case but yea pfpfpf) enemies to lovers ships and these two are just so good, I am on the edge of my seat every time we get a new snippet for them, ngl (grimace emoji) @darth-bagel ‘s Sylvas/Graz’zt and Sylvas/Liz/Rilfaen snippets which they’ve been spoiling me with on Discord @mercurypilgrim ‘s Ven’fir/Quinn AU oneshots, Cloudbank (Western was a particular favourite, but all are very good!) and of course @rainofaugustsith ‘s Lana/Viri updates are always fantastic, some personal favourites from this year were Almost There & Memory of Healing :3 (I totally still go back to read Commander & Advisor too sometimes, getting to see Viri be a little diabolical and messing with “MiNiSTeR LoRMaN!” was and still is my favourite thing XD)

If I’ve left you out I’m sorry!! These were the ones that stuck out in my memory, but I’ve loved everyone’s writing this year, it’s been great :3

Writing Goals:

to actually finish and post chapter 8 & 9 of Creeping Shadows. Then we’ll get to the meat and potatoes of the story and maybe Aria will stop being a brat and fighting me every time I try to stick to a semi-regular update schedule Get off my butt, finalise the name and get started on Ni’kasi’s part of the Subterfugeverse story. Maybe run the updates in-tandem with Creeping Shadows but idk if I want to wait till after CS is done before I start posting Kas’s side, or do them side-by-side yet, we’ll see ;) Keep writing! I know better than to pressure myself by setting a specific word count goal, that’s never worked well in the past

At least 2 chapters of each of the works mentioned above would be great though, more would be better! We’ll see how I go

Words of Thanks:

honestly, to everybody in the fandom I’ve met this year. Anybody that I follow, thank you for being there and engaging with me and/or posting amazing content for me to look at! I came over from deviantART where the SWTOR fandom is incredibly small and generally quite inactive and the contrast since moving over here has been incredibly uplifting. I very nearly cancelled Creeping Shadows and stopped posting fic for my SWTORverse altogether because I got next to no engagement on dA and it was very disheartening to the point where I felt I could enjoy the game and the rp partners I had, but the solo projects I’d put so much thought, time and love into already weren’t worth continuing. You guys took that spark and kept it going and I really don’t have enough words to say how grateful I am for that. Even if I haven’t published much this year, making posts on this tumblr, interacting with everyone and working on lore, plot points and so on for Subterfugeverse has kept me going through the Hellish Year of Nightmares that was 2020 <3

to the amazing new friends I’ve made in this past year, who have listened to me ramble about headcanons, character backstories, writing snippets (and rambled/sent some back), keep being awesome: @walk-ng-d-saster , @darth-bagel , @kyber-heart , @deepseacritter , @thedinalixlegacy to further friends and meme tag buddies, I get so excited every time I see a mention for a new meme or ask game in my inbox, so thank you!! : @mimabeann , @palepinkycat , @a-master-procrastinator , @raven-of-domain-kwaad , @actualanxiousswampwitch , @thatmmolesbian , @a-muirehen to my regular commentors/rebloggers/likers/askbox lurkers, I see every one of you and every time your users pop up I grin like a kid in a toy shop: @starlightjedi , @sparkles-and-rust , @wilvarin-chan , @sunsetofdoom , @ask-an-andalite , @thelastenvoyyy . @lyrishadow and more because Tumblr only goes so far back and I have the memory of Swiss Cheese. If you regularly comment, like, reblog, or anything, from me, know that I see you, and I love and appreciate you for it! <3

I couldn’t possibly remember to tag everyone and I promise if I missed you out it’s not because I hate you! Anxiety just sometimes be a bitch and I don’t wanna look like a clown calling someone a “friend” if I’m not explicitly sure we are, in fact, friends. I think you’re all awesome and I’m so glad to have moved over here and met you all <3

#long post #wordcount year review tag #elven's writing: stats #repost bc i goofed some links woops sorry everyone #^^; #will i eventually post any of this stuff? yes! #i will. i just...don't know *when* the time will be right for most of it hahaha #the only bits i won't post are the zephyrverse-specific oneshots cause i just don't feel like i want to #but everything else will (eventually) in some capacity be thrown into the void for all of you to read #shameless friend appreciation post #shameless mutual and follower appreciation post #<3 #swtor sort of

[jeon-googi]

Star-Crossed

— pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

 — genre: Fantasy, romance

 —Synopsis: Romeo and Juliet but make it Stray Kids

— words: 3.7k

— rating: NSFW (practice safe sex)

— warnings:  SMUT BUT LIKE WHOLESOME SMUT BUT SMUT NONETHELESS

 MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH YIKES GUN VIOLENCE ANGST 

— notes: I love a tragic tale. Any feedback is welcome! Im so happy to finally be done with finals so I present to you, PART THREE OF STAR-CROSSED and only one more chapter left, I hope you guys are enjoying so far! 

 Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four 

-

-

-

-

Despite your lack of sleep, you had never felt more refreshed. Descending down the stairs of your home, you made your way into the parlor for breakfast. Your parents sat at either ends of the table, eating quietly, while your cousin, Jisung, and his friends were there as well. 

“Good morning fair cousin.” He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. You gave a polite smile, sitting beside him. You grabbed for a pastry as you all engaged in small conversation before the doors to the parlor were thrown open in an aggressive manner. Chan stormed in, an enraged look on his face. Chan had been friends with your cousins for some time, that you knew, but you never had met him until the previous night. You hadn't even known that same son of the Governor was the rowdy Chan you had heard stories of. 

“They really are disgusting. I can’t wait until tonight.” He huffed, taking a seat across from you. You eyed Chan carefully raising a brow. Changbin cackled from beside you, “Can’t believe the Governor's son is participating in his first brawl tonight.” 

You glanced between the boys before your father spoke up, “Now boys don’t let him get too banged up okay? We need him looking nice for the wedding photos.” 

Your heart plummeted. 

“W-wedding photos?” You whispered, your eyes flitting from Chan's serious gaze to your father's unbothered one. 

“Yes Y/n wedding photos. Didn't your mother tell you?”

“I tried my dear, but I couldn’t find her during the party again.” Your mother responded, taking a sip of her coffee. 

You stood up, pushing your chair back with a loud screech. “Tell. Me. What?” You hissed through clenched teeth, your gaze permanently locked onto Chans unwavering gaze.

“We're getting married Y/n. It was decided last night. Your parents accepted my proposal.” Chan stated before turning his attention to his breakfast. 

“And you didn't think to let me know, Chan?” Your voice was laced with venom despite it’s polite tone. Chan shrugged, “You seemed pretty shook up after your encounter with that Montague scum, so I didn’t want to bother you. I thought it’d be a nice surprise.” His gaze challenged yours, “Are you not happy, Y/n?”

Ice shot through your veins. He knew. He had to know about you and Hyunjin. 

“I am happy. Just surprised. I did not expect to be engaged this morning.” 

Your mother gleefully clapped as she looked at you both, “Ah young love! Chan is even fighting tonight for your honor Y/n, why, after he told us a Montague had the gall to impose himself on you, Chan took it upon himself to challenge those ruffians. How romantic.” She mused. 

Your breathing grew shallow, he was going to fight the Montagues? That means, he would be fighting Hyunjin. To the death if need be.

Jisung nodded alongside you, “Don’t worry cousin, we have never lost a fight. We promise your lover won’t get too scratched up before your big day.” Their laughs grew into ringing in your ears as you stared down at your half eaten breakfast. 

Did Hyunjin know?

How could I tell him?

“Excuse me…” You mumbled, leaving the parlor. You could hear your mother conversing with Chan and the others and it took everything in your power not to vomit on the floor. Tonight he will fight Hyunjin. Chan may die. Hyunjin may die.

And there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

 Hyunjin nodded as he listened to Seungmin discuss the plan for tonight. As it turned out, Felix had a run-in with Jisung, Changbin, Lee Know, and Chan when he left the Capulet property. 

“They hassled me. But it was obvious I wasn’t the one they wanted.” Felix’s eyes flicked up to Hyunjins. The guilt started to gnaw at Hyunjin. His friends were in danger, because he was being foolish. “Chan wants you dead, Hyunjin. He wants you dead so Y/n can be his.” The guilt was slowly being consumed by raw anger. Chan knew Y/n would never love him as long as he was still around. 

“I want you guys to be smart. I want you to be safe. This fight is about Chan and I.” Hyunjin stated seriously. Of course, fights like this weren’t uncommon, him and his boys had participated in many. But this time, it was different. Hyunjin glanced between his friends. Felix had always been by his side, his best friend. Seungmin was a gentle person, dragged into this life due to his family, and I.N...I.N was so young it pained Hyunjin to think about what could happen. 

“I would never dream of fighting alongside another. You guys are my family.” Hyunjin added. 

“We leave at dusk.”

 Night arrived quickly, and in a vacant lot in an abandoned part of Verona, two rivals met apprehensively. The Capulets arrived on site first, their cars growling in the night air and the headbeams providing artificial light. Chan glanced around nervously, the gun on his hip seemed to weigh him down more than the earth itself. His ears perked at the sound of engines roaring closer to the lost and his pulse spiked as the motorcycles of Montague approached. They were evenly matched. The nervousness Chan felt washed away as he spotted him. Hyunjin stepped off his bike, a cocky smile on his face, and Chan remembered why they were here in the first place. 

“Montague.” Chan spat, taking a pace towards the center of the lot. Hyunjin smiled and ran a hand through his hair, “Was all this really necessary? Why, you're not even a Capulet Christopher, why are you here daddy’s boy?” Chan’s anger flared at the comments. 

“I am here to tell you I am marrying Y/n.”

Hyunjins grin dropped. His eyes narrowed in a fierce stare. “Your what?”

Chan felt a hint of joy as he added, “Once you are out of the picture, I will marry Y/n Capulet. She will take my last name and be mine.” He paused, “All mine.”

Hyunjin growled at the comments, his hand itching to reach for the gun on his hip. He knew it was a set up, Chan wanted him to react out of anger. Hyunjin was smarter than this. 

“She will never love you. Whether I am here or not.”

Chan’s eye twitched at the comments and Hyunjin grinned knowing he hit a nerve.

“Y/n loves me. Man, if only you had been quicker, I’m pretty sure her first kiss was in that elevator with me.” Hyunjin mused, enjoying the visible frustration on Chan’s face. “The way she looked as I kissed her neck, as she begged me for more. Does it make you angry, Channie, that she will never do that for you?” Chan’s nostrils flared, “Shut up Montague!” He spat but Hyunjins grin grew wider. “It makes you mad knowing I was there with her, that she only wants me. Because let’s be honest Chan, your nothing without your father-” Chan finally reached his breaking point. He reached for the gun on his hip clumsily as he aimed it towards Hyunjin and shot.

Hyunjin grinned. His aim was off. The bullet whizzed by Hyunjin, and he shook his head. 

“Now now Chan, you couldn’t have expected to actually hit me-”

“FELIX!”

Hyunjins blood turned cold. That was I.N’s voice. Slowly, Hyunjin turned around. Indeed the bullet missed Hyunjin by a long shot. But somehow, by a horrifying stroke of luck, the bullet found its way through the stomach of Hyunjins best friend who stood only a few feet behind him.

“‘LIX!” Hyunjin cried out as Felix crumpled to the floor. I.N quickly tried to support his head but Hyunjin pushed him away, cradling Felix in his arms. Felix’s eyes blinked rapidly as he struggled to form words, Hyunjin shushing him. 

“Felix shut up, save your energy, you're going to be okay!” Hyunjin sobbed, his hands applying harsh pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. Hyunjins fat tears fell onto Felix’s face as he watched his best friend slip through his fingers. 

“Hyun..jin..” Felix croaked out, wincing as more blood gushed from his wound.

“Felix please stop-Seungmin! We need an ambulance!” Hyunjin cried out but no one moved. Everyone knew, even Hyunjin, there was no help for them now. Felix raised a shaky hand to Hyunjin’s cheek, his palm cold with sweat. 

“I’m s-sorry…’Jin” Felix sobbed, “I-I’m scared..” Hyunjin’s sobbed as he shook his head, holding Felix closer, “You did e-everything just right, don’t be scared ‘Lix...you're my best friend.” Felix gave a small smile at this, his eyes starting to focus past Hyunjin. Felix grew quiet, and soon his eyes no longer moved. His chest stopped breathing, and under the starless sky, Hyunjins best friend lay lifeless in his arms.

Hyunjins eyes were tinged with red, his voice raw from the cry’s he let out. Chan stood there shakily, his gun still aimed at the group. He looked nervously back at Jisung who stared with wide eyes at the scene. 

“Jisung what-what do I do? I killed him Jisung!” Chan cried nervously, dropping the gun to the ground. 

Hyunjin swung his head towards Chan, the anger in his eyes blazing. 

“You…” He snarled, grabbing his gun and stalking towards Chan. Chan quickly tried to move away but Hyunjin caught a fistfull of his shirt and in a fluid motion, Hyunjin swung the gun against his face. There was a sickening thud as Chan fell to the ground, blood pouring from his face. Jisung reacted quickly as well, racing to confront Hyunjin when he was intercepted by I.N who swung rapidly, his eyes cloudy with tears. Changbin and Minho were met by Seungmin who shot rapidly. The chaos had begun.

Hyunjin swung his fists harshly into Chan, he wanted him to suffer. He wanted him to feel his pain. 

“You killed him!” he spat, Chan so weak he couldn't even fight back. 

Dirt was swept up in the scuffle and Hyunjins ears recognized the distinct sound of cop cars. 

“They’re coming!” He roared, leaving a ragged Chan on the ground, giving him one last swift kick to the stomach. Hyunjin leaned in close to Chan, “I am not going to kill you. I want you to live with this guilt forever. You killed someone. Y/n will never want you now.” And with that, Hyunjin whistled for I.N and Seungmin to return to their bikes quickly. They all looked worse for wear. Starting up their bikes, they had no choice but to leave the scene behind, including Felix. It made Hyunjins heart break but there was no way Chan would admit to murder and they had no way of transporting him back. This was the life of rival houses. They all knew what life they would lead. With a prayer to whoever heard him, Hyunjin said his final farewell to his best friend, and disappeared into the night.

 You were too nervous to sleep. You paced your room back and forth with Irene watching you helplessly. 

“They will be fine Y/n…” Irene said in her soothing voice, but you shook your head, continually looking out past your balcony.

“Something bad is going to happen, I know it Irene.”

Granted, you did not want to marry Chan, but you did not want him murdered either. As for Hyunjin...you shook your head. You couldn't even fathom if anything would’ve happened to Hyunjin. The moon was high in the sky and it was well into the early hours of midnight yet still you waited. For anything. When the anxiety grew too great, you were startled by a loud groan from your balcony. You and Irene both rushed over, your eyes widening as a figure climbed up and over the balcony rail. The figure collapsed to the ground and took deep ragged breaths as you fell to your knees scooping the beaten Hyunjin into your arms. You couldn’t help the tears that poured out of your eyes. 

“H-hyunjin!” You cried, your hands roaming over his face and body checking for wounds. He was covered in blood, enough so even your hand was stained. His eyes were shut as he seemed to be breathing a little more stable, and soon his eyes opened enough so he could see your concerned face over his. 

“Y/n…” He whispered, his trembling hand reaching up to your face. He couldn't help the tears that poured from his eyes, both from sadness and relief. Your tears fell onto his own face as you held his hand against your cheek.

“He killed him Y/n...Chan killed Felix.”

Your breathing stopped as you registered his words. You couldn't believe it. 

“I’m so sorry Hyunjin.” You said softly, cradling his head gently to your chest. You felt his tears fall onto your skin as he began to cry, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. Irene still stood in the doorway, watching carefully. 

“Irene please help me move him to my bed.” You asked, helping Hyunjin stand to his feet. Irene moved beside Hyunjin as well, holding him up as you two slowly made your way to your large bed. Hyunjin clumsily sat on the bed as you instructed him to lie down.

“I’ll get your bed dirty..” He mumbled but you shook your head.

“Hyunjin I really don’t give a shit, lie down.” 

He did as he was told, relishing in the soft surface below him.

Irene brought you a medical kit as you began to examine his body but Hyunjin shook his head.

“S’not my blood…” He whispered as you nodded. You sat beside him in silence for a while, allowing him to get even a little bit of rest. Irene quietly left the room, keeping watch for anyone who may enter your room. 

You stroked Hyunjins hair gently as you hummed little songs in the air. Eventually his eyes fluttered open and rested on you beside him, a smile gracing his face.

“This is what it would be like if we were married.” He mused, causing a blush to spread across your face. 

“If we were married I wouldn't allow you to get hurt like this anymore.” You said sternly, weaseling your way into his arms. Hyunjin grinned looking up at you, “Anything for you my love.”  

You propped yourself up above him, gazing down at his face. He had a small cut on his cheek and lip, and his hair was tousled into a massive birds nest, but he had never looked so handsome. You couldn't help yourself as you leaned down gently, placing your lips against his lightly, to not hurt his cuts. Hyunjin sighed into the kiss, his hand cupping your cheeks and holding you close. You pulled away from him, need, igniting his gaze as he watched you. You sat back on the bed as he propped himself up on his forearms. You shyly reached for the hem of your sleeping dress before pulling it up and over your head, sitting before Hyunjin in your white undergarments. Hyunjins eyes widened as he scrambled to grab your hands.

“Y/n you don’t need to do this if you don’t want to!” He said breathlessly, his thumb stroking your hands. You shook your head, your hair cascading down your shoulders. 

“I want to be with you, Hyunjin. Like this. Tonight.” you admitted breathlessly. Your gaze traveled up his shirt to his face and met his eyes. 

“I love you.” 

You watched his eyes widened and gloss over, a smile breaking his serious face. He leaned into you gently, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. His hand shakily met your bare waist as you shivered at his cold touch.

“Sorry…” he mumbled against your lips and you smiled. His other hand held your face as he travelled down to your neck, leaving hot kisses along your collarbone. You moaned out breathlessly as he sucked harshly against your skin, nipping at the blossoming bruises. His tongue soothed the pain away with gentle licks. 

“Hyunjin..” you whispered needily as he chuckled against your skin.

“I want to make this as perfect as it can be.” He admitted softly, pulling back to gaze at you. 

Mustering up your courage, you pushed him back onto the pillows, swinging your leg over his hips. You suppressed a moan at the friction against him but you pushed the thought away. 

“I want to show you how much I love you.” You smiled softly, watching his eyes widen at your words. 

Leaning down, you began to leave soft kisses along his jaw, your hands perched on his chest. He tilted his head to give you more access as he closed his eyes in content. Your kisses traveled down to his chest and the exposed skin there. With shaky fingers, you began to unbutton his shirt, but grew frustrated as you grew more nervous. Hyunjin let out a small laugh as his hands grabbed yours. 

“Let me help.” he whispered, his hands controlling your own as he began to unbutton his shirt. Shrugging off the fabric, he tossed it across the room and laid back down, smirking as your eyes traveled down his body. 

“You’re…” you muttered breathlessly.

“Handsome? Sexy? Charmingly devilish?-”

“Beautiful.”

Hyunjin shut his lips tightly, turning his head to hide the blush dusting his cheeks. 

“You're so beautiful Hyunjin.” You cooed, your fingers tracing gently down his chest. You leaned down, your lips travelling down his body. His breathing grew heavier and heavier as you made your way closer to his hips. Your hand quickly undid his button as you tugged, signaling for him to raise his hips. He obliged quickly, allowing you to tug off his pants and leave him in his tented boxers. 

The pit in your stomach grew larger with want as you looked at him, utterly lost in his lust for you. Knowing that this man who lay beneath you, wanted you like this, well, it did a number on your confidence. With a smirk you crawled back up his chest, allowing yourself some slight friction against him ,causing him to groan. His hand held your hips tightly as he held you against him, causing you to gasp as he jerked up against you. 

“Y/n…” he moaned breathlessly, his eyes watching yours. The contact was intense, and embarrassing to be honest. You quickly tried to turn your head away, but his hand directed your chin back to his face.

“This is what you do to me, Y/n. This is how you make me feel.” He muttered huskily. His hand gripped your ass tightly as he ground you harder against him, causing you to cry out. His hand left your face and skillfully traveled to you back, unlatching your bra. The sensation caused you to quickly try and cover yourself, but his hand grasped yours softly.

“Princess…” he said softly.

You glanced away, before allowing yourself to shrug the material off, your bare chest exposed to the cold air pouring in from your balcony. Hyunjin gave you a smile as his hand traveled to your chest, rubbing you softly.

“So beautiful…” He mused with a grin. You laughed a bit, biting your lip. Gently, Hyunjin sat up, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close. The heat between you two warmed you up quickly as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. 

“If you don’t want this you should tell me now...I don’t think I can control myself much longer.” He whispered as you nodded, looking up through your lashes. 

“I want you.” 

Quickly, he flipped you both over, his leg in between yours as his hands held you down. You gasped as his leg nudged you to open wider, and he took the opportunity to kiss you more passionately. Your body arched into his, craving his touches as you two tumbled between the sheets. He quickly grabbed your thin bed sheet and brought it over you both, laughing like a young boy. Seeing him so happy, made your heart ache and caused your eyes to well up. Hyunjin leaned down, kissing away your tears.

“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered, the sheet trapping all the noise with you two. You sniffled and smiled, “I love you too.”

He was gentle, patient when you winced as he entered you. He placed loving kisses on your face to distract you, whispering words of endearment. Soon you gave him a nod to let him know you were okay. You didn’t want to think about if Hyunjin had done this before, because all that mattered, was that he would be your last first time. You moaned alongside him as his thrusts sped up, the sensation of euphoria creeping up on you.

He panted your name. Over and over again like a prayer. You called his name too, his forehead resting against yours. It was almost all too much, his thrusts became more sporadic as you reached your high as well, causing you to become breathless. Hyunjin groaned as he reached his as well, falling onto your chest breathlessly.

You smiled, your hands rubbing his back as he watched you. 

“How are you my soul?” He whispered.

“Perfectly happy.” You admitted truthfully, earning a laugh from him. He leaned up to kiss you once more, settling beside you to wrap his arms around you. You buried your head in his chest, relishing in his presence. You knew, this happiness would not last, but you took every second the rest of the night to simply be in the presence of Hyunjin. Soon you both fell asleep soundly, wrapped in one another's embrace.

Only the moon knew of your secret as it descended from the night sky, basking in the few kisses it receives from its own lover, as the sun returns to it’s place in the sky, bringing about another day of tragic reality. 

#stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine

[milk-mochi]

title : drama club

pairing : jeongguk x reader

genre : high school! au, gender neutral! reader, fluff

word count : 2k

warnings : none

prompt : btsboulangerie’s september prompt : “wait, that was you ?”

The key to a good friendship had always escaped Jeongguk. He was bad at talking, emotional expression, being the center of attention, and anything of the sort. Being a socially awkward outcast in a high school setting was hard enough. When you added his school theatre background into the mix, it led to nothing but constant suffering. It hadn’t always been this way.

When Jeongguk was five, he entered into primary school like every other kid. Off the bat, he had an aptitude for the fine arts. He was exceptionally good at music. He was gifted. Not quite a prodigy, but talented nonetheless. Every teacher he ever been taught by had said that to his parents without fail; however, it was always followed by another sentence.

“He just doesn’t apply himself enough,” they would say. Conferences and parent meetings for fourteen years provoked the same response. It didn’t make any sense. He was an honors student with straight A grades, what else could they ask for ? They would tell him to join after school activities to make friends, or to play a sport. Nothing had ever interested him. He was athletic, but sports teams didn’t suit his fancy. He had no burning need to be on things like the math team, to be in clubs or to participate at all. He just wanted to get through school alone.

Against his wish, he met a boy on his first day of high school. Kim Taehyung, a hyper but suave puppy dog with a passion for art just like Jeongguk’s. Kim Taehyung refused to let Jeongguk be alone, despite his inability to talk to people. Which is why on the fifth day of his freshman year, Jeongguk stepped into the auditorium of his high school to attend a drama club meeting.

He fell in love with it, to put it simply. He never preferred a lead role, but rather one that kept him in the spotlight for the least possible amount of time. He did find it difficult to express himself, but the club helped him with his awkwardness. Now at seventeen, he was a full blown participator in drama activities.

You were an A-Class Theatre Nerd. You had been in every school musical since grade four, often playing lead characters. Music was your one-way ticket to being well known by the entirety of your high school. It was safe to say you took the cake for popularity, being that you could walk the hallways and students would split to let you pass. Your real friend group consisted of three boys and a friend you knew since birth. Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin were your clique. You had met the three of them through theatre. Ji was your best friend, and she had stuck beside you through all of your hardships.  She had joined drama club with you with the hope of breaking out of her shell.

“I just wish we could do something less boring, like the stuff they do on Broadway nowadays !” Hoseok enthused as you walked into the auditorium after school.

“Yeah, and get the entire program cancelled by administration ?” You drawled, giggling. “The stuff they do on Broadway nowadays wouldn’t be allowed here.” You set your backpack down on the ground and ran up the stairs to sit on the stage with the rest of the club. Today was the first day of drama club of your senior year. Your last chance to make high school worth something.

“Hello everyone, welcome to drama club ! This is the first meeting, so I’d like to start with a friendship-building activity. We’re going to go in a circle and introduce ourselves.” Your director smiled as she sat on the floor of the stage with the group.

“I’ll start !” You raised your hand, smiling. “I’m Y/N, and I’m a senior this year. I’ve been participating in school productions since I was a kid, and here I am.” You gave an enthusiastic wave and settled back down.

The game continued on in a circle, with Seokjin introducing himself as a wreck, and Jimin asking to use the bathroom and tripping over his own feet as he sprinted from the auditorium. You spaced out as it went on, pausing momentarily to pay attention to a kid with bright eyes and curly hair falling halfway down his face. He offered a timid smile, and his introduction came in a sort of whisper.

“I’m Jeongguk, a senior. I joined drama club my freshman year, and I really love to sing.” He paused and swallowed deeply, giving a nod as he pleaded to the director to move on. The boy next to him jumped at his opportunity to speak, giving Jeongguk time to recover.

You smirked to yourself, combing a hand through your hair. This would be a fun year after all.

It took you two weeks to approach Jeongguk. You spoke to everyone in the club aside from him. You were worried that he was beginning to think you hated him. Painting sets gave you the perfect opportunity for conversation. Every once in a while, the club would work on sets for future productions. You would all just get to work on painting. It was more of a time to relax with friends than anything, so you decided to speak to Jeongguk.

You sat down beside him. He paid you no mind, and you inhaled deeply, coughing a bit from the amount of air you took in.

“Hi,” you choked out, your face turning a bright red.

“Hey,” he responded with a bright smile, turning to face you. “Y/N, right ?”

He was calm. You were not. Your face turned deeper red, if at all possible.

“Yeah, and you're, uh, you’re Jeongguk. Aren’t you ? ‘Cause if you aren’t I’m sorry, I’m really bad with remembering-” He cut you off with a rich laugh, his voice modulated and husky.

“Yeah, I’m Jeongguk.” He was surprised at how easy the words came to mind. He wasn’t particularly good at talking to anyone, let alone people like you.

“Oh ! Yeah, I definitely knew that. I thought so, and I was right. Huh,” you said, stopping yourself before you could go any further with your useless word vomit.

You dipped your paintbrush into the can of white paint, removing it to paint a small dresser. Seokjin took the wonderful opportunity to place his hands on your shoulders, shouting a greeting in your ear. You let out a yell, flinging the paintbrush in the air and getting white paint on your black shirt. Seokjin let out a howl of glee, his eyes falling on Jeongguk as he keeled over in amusement. Your focus turned to the boy you were sitting next to, and sure enough, the paintbrush had landed in his hair. You apologized profusely, promising yourself you’d never talk to him in person ever again.

You gave Seokjin a stern talking to that night.

“He probably thinks I’m a spaz, and it’s all your fault !”

He just laughed and told you to try harder to get to know Jeongguk. You refused.

You're lookin' sharp, so let's go back to my flat and get natural.

Jeongguk read the sticky note three times over, pausing to sigh in resignation before reading it a fourth time. It was a terrible pick up line, but the person who put it in his locker had to have music knowledge, so that narrowed it down. He’d never received a note or anything of the sort before. He stared at it once again before sticking it to the inside of his locker door.

“That’s awful,” Taehyung mused, poking the sticky note with his pointer finger over Jeongguk’s shoulder. Jeongguk jumped in surprise, bumping his head into the lockers. He winced, offering yet another sigh.

Drama club that day was boring, to say the least. His gaze kept landing on Y/N. They were going over their lines with a friend, who he thought was named Ji. They both paused every few minutes to crack up in laughter. He wondered why Y/N hadn’t talked to him since the paint incident. He thought it was hilarious, but they were probably traumatized from the situation. He returned to his own lines, his mind lingering on the idea of them.

“Seriously, that’s what you put on it ?” Ji snorted, shoving your shoulder.

“I thought it was funny !” you retorted.

“Yeah, to a seven year-old maybe ! I bet he hated it.”

You stuck your tongue out at Ji in retaliation, crossing your arms. Little did she know, you had at least a hundred crumpled sticky notes at the bottom of your backpack. It had taken a long time to find the perfect line. You were going to do this until he figured out who you were.

Are you a fermata? Because I want to hold you. 

Not bad. Jeongguk let out a chuckle, sticking it next to the fifteen others on his locker door. It had been three weeks since the first, and they kept getting better. Most of the time they were music related, with an occasional dirty joke added to the mix. He appreciated it, but his mind was only focused on one thing. Y/N. He really liked seeing them during the day and in the auditorium, and they were on his mind all the time. On top of that, Y/N’s friend Ji had started talking to him. Often their conversation would drift to Y/N. It was fun to hear a different side of their personality. All he knew was the calm and composed popular kid. Despite the one time he talked to them, he always knew that they were confident. He wasn’t aware of their socially awkward side, to which he could definitely relate. Ji explained that Y/N was garbage at talking to anyone they found attractive. He wasn’t sure if that was an indication of their attraction to him, or just a slip of the mind from Ji. He convinced himself it was the latter. He wasn’t anything special.

That day during drama club, Jeongguk decided he was going to talk to Y/N. It didn’t matter what he said, he just needed to get the thought of them out of his mind. He walked into the auditorium almost in a strut. He walked towards Ji in an effort to converse with her. Ji was standing next to Y/N, and he suddenly heard something familiar come from her mouth.

“-I want to hold you ? That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard !” Ji was heaving for breath. Jeongguk stopped dead in his tracks. He was about two feet away, but his gasp alerted the two friends.

“Wait, that was you ?” Jeongguk asked, dumbfounded. He looked down at his hands and beamed, his cheeks turning red. Of all the people he knew, he didn’t expect Y/N to be the one giving the sticky notes. He thought they were too busy, too popular, too disinterested in him. He took a moment to compose himself, and when he looked up, Y/N was in a state of shock. Their eyes were watering, presumably in fear of rejection. They made eye contact with him. They seemed fragile. Vulnerable. Jeongguk didn’t like that in reaction to him, so he took a deep breath and prepared himself. He was ready for this moment since the first note. He knew his lines this time, and he wasn’t afraid to be in the spotlight.

“Hey, I bet we’d, we’d get into some, uh, serious treble together,” He winked shyly, exhaling with relief. He still stuttered despite the practice. Oh well, at least he didn’t miss his mark.

There was a pause. A completely silent second filled with anxiety. Then a sweet noise rang through the air. He soon realized it was you. You had burst out in laughter.

“Golden. That was absolutely golden, music boy.” You grinned widely at him, winking in return. He might have been bad at social skills, but Jeon Jeongguk sure made your heart sing - pun intended.

tagged; @lofihope

#btsboulangerie #btsboulangerieseptember #bangtan #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts high school au #gender neutral reader #bts sfw #my writing tag

[mrslittletall]

Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 23) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Crossbreed Priscilla Word Count: 8.141 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/55100641 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/190947989119/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-22-fandom-dark

Summary: The duo continues to explore the Painted World up until the very being Ornstein wanted to talk to is standing in front of them.

(Author's note: Ah, the second part of the Painted World chapter. This chapters are so long, but now I need to write some more first. I hope this chapter can bide you over until I am done with the next one! Also, I received some lovely Fanart from @this-organic-corner on tumblr, please give it all a look and a reblog!)

Ornstein sat in silence while Tempest talked a bit more about his dream until he grew silent too.

“...Is this the reason why you got upset earlier? You thought that I didn't care about you?”, Ornstein finally spoke up.

Tempest dangled his leg a bit more and then deeply sighed, rolling his shoulders before he replied: “I guess I was just jealous. You had this great life and all these bonds and … everyone I once cared for got out of my reach when I turned undead and everyone I met and cared for here started to turn hollow left and right. I... I was hoping to be a part of your world.”

Ornstein directed his gaze to the ground, into the seemingly bottomless pit they were currently seated above.

“Once... Once I would say I had a great life, but that is long over.”, he said. “In fact... I wanted to give up. I was looking forward to die so when it didn't happen I was devastated.”

“In other words, if you were Undead you would have gone hollow...”, Tempest said, a shudder rippled through Ornstein's body. That analogy was rather accurate.

“I guess... you could see it like that.”, he murmured. “I didn't want to live anymore, I wanted to give up everything but then...”, Ornstein took a deep breath, “You came stumbling into the Dark Moon Tomb and... and after meeting you, I don't want to give up anymore... Maybe... seeing you struggle but still going on was...inspiring?”

“Funny.”, Tempest said. “Because the reason I went into the grave was me almost giving up.”

Ornstein gave Tempest a glance and the small Undead returned it.

“Maybe we both have picked each other up.”, Ornstein said. “I am sorry that I made you feel bad... it's not that I don't care about you, but...”, Ornstein sighed, averting his gaze once again. “It's complicated.”

“It's fine.”, Tempest said. “I am already glad that you told me this. Let's move on.” He got up and walked into the house. Ornstein followed him as he took a look around, determining where they should go next.

“There is a door that leads outside.”, Tempest pointed to it with his sword. He walked over to it and through the door. Ornstein stayed inside. He had to duck every time he wanted to use one of the doorways and it was starting to get on his back.

Tempest wasn't out there for long. “There seems to be nothing out there...”, he murmured. “Besides a corpse on a string. Who would put up a decoration like that?” The sway of a sword was heard and a good while later a distant thud. “There, that's better.”, Tempest said and came back into the house.

“Where to now?”, Ornstein asked.

“Hm.”, Tempest contemplated. “There are some stairs leading further up. Let's try them.”

As they ascended the stairs Tempest said: “We already went up so many stairs. And there are still more. How high did they build this place?”

“Enough for a tower to be in the middle.”, Ornstein replied. “Also, it wasn't build, it was painted.”

“Oh yes, I forgot.”, Tempest said. He frowned when another set of stairs showed up. “Again?”, he complained but got cut short when a hollow ran down the stairs to attack. Tempest reacted wonderfully, Ornstein thought, as his sword fell the hollow in one swoop. Tempest continued to ascend the stairs, Ornstein following him. Up the stairs there was a little attic with one of these toxic hollows shuffling closer to them.

“Let me take care of it.”, Ornstein said. Tempest stepped aside, knowing that Ornstein's longer weapon was better to deal with enemies where you should keep a certain range. Ornstein stabbed the hollow and both of them hold their breath until the putrid odor had disappeared.

“Seems to be a dead end.”, Ornstein said, already turning around.

“Wait, there's something by the window.” Before Ornstein could stop him Tempest had already jumped, misjudged the landing and staggered back on his feet after he had fell. He picked up whatever had piqued his interest and then stared down the window.

“Ornstein... there is a ladder leading down.”, he said.

Ornstein jumped over the gap in one graceful motion and confirmed with his own eyes what the little Storm just had said.

“You first.”, Ornstein said and grabbed the ladder once Tempest had slid it down. Once Ornstein arrived a the ground he saw that Tempest had stabbed another hollow.

“A sneaky one.”, Tempest said. “Tried to attack me from behind.”

“You are getting more and more reliable, little Storm.”, Ornstein smiled and Tempest's face lit up.

They followed some stairs down until they arrived at another building. This time Ornstein ducked through the doorway to follow Tempest. He could only spot some rats and some furniture. He and Tempest dispatched the rats without trouble.

“Oh look, a chest.”, Tempest said and pointed at it. There was – in fact – a chest Ornstein had confused for furniture earlier. Tempest took his sword and gave the chest a good smack before opening it.

“You are learning, little Storm.”, Ornstein said.

“I got eaten one time too many.”, Tempest said as he spread the contents of the chest on the table in the room. “Isn't that...”

“Yes.”, Ornstein said, not needing for Tempest to finish the question. “The uniform of the Painting Guardians.”

“But we haven't actually seen some of them in here.”, Tempest mused.

“They may have hollowed beyond recognition.”, Ornstein said. “Or just kept some backup clothes here, who knows.”

Tempest shrugged and folded the uniform to put in his bag. He curiously eyed another door that would lead out of the building and went there, taking a look. After a short while he came back. “It's only a small yard, there isn't actually something there.”, he said.

“I guess that means we should get back.”, Ornstein suggested and Tempest nodded.

A short while later they were back in the house and left it through the last exit they hadn't explored yet. Straight in front of them was the tower Ornstein had mentioned earlier, but Tempest was more interested into something that was left of them.

“Do you see this?”, Tempest pointed at a grey figure in the distant. “What is it?”

Ornstein narrowed his eyes as he looked at the grey figure. He had trouble figuring out what it was, but something in him told him he should have a bad feeling about it... “I don't know, but I don't trust it.”, he said.

“I am going to check it out.”, Tempest said, curiosity winning.

Ornstein's bad feeling still wouldn't leave him so he followed Tempest but stayed off the bridge leading to the grey figure, instead opted to wait on the ledge left to it.

“You aren't coming?”, Tempest asked, already on the bridge.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”, Ornstein growled at nothing in particular. “Be careful, little Storm.”

Tempest nodded and got his sword and shield ready. But nothing could have prepared Ornstein for what did happen next. Tempest slowly approached the figure and once he was rather close that whole grey mass which hadn't moved at all earlier was coming to life and charged right at Tempest, who, in a desperate attempt to protect himself raised his shield but ultimately got hurled against the tower with a sickening crunch and then fell down, the snow around him getting tinted red.

Ornstein was torn between checking out Tempest... he was still there, he hadn't died and the freaking dragon on the bridge. Now he knew where his uneasy feeling had come from. They had imprisoned a a minor dragon into the Painted World and apparently it had managed to get a dose of the undead curse and turned into a rotten mass of flesh.

The good thing was, the dragon barely had any sanity and so it was stuck at the front of the bridge where it spew out a horrible smelling mass that surely was toxic.

Ornstein decided that he should check on the little Storm first and ran over to Tempest who laid unconscious on the ground, body bleeding and broken.

“That he didn't die of this attack, he's a lucky one.”, Ornstein said as he removed the Estus Flask of Tempest's hips and gave him to drink, waiting for his swallowing reflex to get the liquid actually into his body.

After a few seconds Tempest eyes shot open and he coughed and wheezed. Ornstein offered him another sip of the Estus which he gratefully took. Ornstein watched fascinated as the wounds closed and the broken bones mended themselves.

“Ouch, that did hurt!”, Tempest groaned and then his eyes widened even further when he saw the undead dragon on the bridge.

“Ornstein, what in the world is that?”, he blurted out and Ornstein could see genuine fear in his face. Understandable, that thing had just flung him through the air and nearly killed him. While dying didn't mean the end for the Undead, Tempest had already expressed how much it hurt every single time.

“Undead dragon.”, Orstein said. “In short, a dragon which caught itself a dose of the curse of the Undeath.”

Tempest managed to get up, standing on wobbly feet. “I.. I think I have seen one of these elsewhere!”

“What, where?”, Ornstein said but when another spew of toxic vomit landed on the ground in front of them, he turned around and said: “Let me take care of this rotten mass of flesh first, then we can talk.”

Ornstein leaped directly on the head of the undead dragon and thrust his spear deep into it, so deep that the dragon screeched in pain and shortly after that collapsed, its whole body dissipating into soul power. Ornstein could feel how an amount got added to his own soul and could see how an amount was getting drawn to Tempest.

“That was awesome! You are so awesome, Ornstein!”, Tempest cheered in the back before getting shaken by another coughing fit. Another sip of Estus seemed to fix that. Tempest came nearer to where the dragon had dissipated. “I can't believe you used to fight these things for a living.”

“My title of dragon slayer is not there for naught.”, Ornstein said, blushing a little bit. It had been so long since people had praised him for doing what he did best and.. hearing it from Tempest again and again made Ornstein feel a lot better about himself. “And you are alright, little Storm, not hurt anymore?”

“Yes, every damage is healed.”, Tempest said, coming back on the bridge, exploring it now that the threat was gone. “And for what I have said earlier, where I have seen a thing like this. When I came back from Blighttown...”, Ornstein made a face at the mention of the putrid swamp which Tempest of course couldn't see, “..I came through a valley and I explored it a bit and there was some things lying around and I wanted to take a look and then the corpse around them started moving and I got scared and ran away.”

“This sounds very like you.”, Ornstein said as Tempest walked along the bridge and picked up a few things. He would forever be a little hoarder. He then looked into the distance and took a few steps back.

“What is wrong?”, Ornstein said and walked near Tempest who ducked behind Ornstein.

“I think there is another one...”, Tempest said. Ornstein turned his head around and saw that there indeed was another grey mass of flesh, but...

He got closer and poked it with his spear. Nothing happened.

“Tsk, it's the bottom half.”, he said. “That thing had already rotten enough to not be in one piece anymore. Without the head it is completely harmless.”

Tempest, who hadn't stopped hiding between Ornstein breathed out in relief.

“Good.”, he said. “Though... it kinda is blocking the way. I guess we have to find another.”

“Then lead the way, little Storm.”, Ornstein said, stepping aside and waiting for Tempest to step out of his shadow which he reluctantly did.

At the other end of the bridge Tempest headed left and entered what must be the tower they had seen earlier. There were stairs leading up and down. Tempest considered for a moment before he went up. Ornstein followed him without question.

Only a few steps up the stairs a corvian blocked their way. “Argh and there is nearly any room to fight.”, Tempest cursed.

“Just knock them off.”, Ornstein suggested, knowing that it was easier said as done as Tempest blocked her attacks and he quickly got a taste of it when another one of them appeared and pinched them. “Shoot.”, he cursed, readying his spear.

The battle was short but intense and Ornstein managed to give the corvian a nasty gash in her wing which made her fall off the stairs and she didn't came flying back. He turned around to see how Tempest was doing. The small Undead did hold himself up but had a deep scratch in his arms, the corvian was riddled with wounds but nothing was serious.

Then she pulled back and while Tempest seemed to see it a chance, Ornstein shouted: “Watch out, little Storm.” and pulled him out of the way before the corvian could land on him to peck his eyes out, instead colliding with the ground, screeching in pain.

“That was close, thanks.”, Tempest said as Ornstein connected his spear with the corvian's head and then casually tossed her off the stairs.

“You might be able to heal yourself but that would still have hurt.”, Ornstein said. Tempest continued up the stairs until they were at the very top. A lot of crows were hanging around a nest but flew away when they stepped nearer.

Tempest kneeled down and picked something up, then presenting the red shape to Ornstein: “What is that?”

“My, my! It's a red sign soapstone.”, Ornstein said. “Haven't seen one of them in ages...”

“What are they used for?”, Tempest asked.

“Hm, little Storm, you know about the white sign soapstone?”, Ornstein asked.

Tempest nodded. “Yeah, that Solaire fellow was giving me one of these.”

“These are similar. They summon your phantom to another place but not for help for a fight, but a duel so to speak.”, Ornstein said. “Useful when you want to see how strong you are with all you have without like... actually dying. We used to summon each other as red phantoms to test our strength... Artorias and me I mean.”

“Interesting.”, Tempest said, mouth agape in awe. “I never knew you could use these things!”

“It has been a long time.”, Ornstein said. “...But say, little Storm, you said you have a white sign soapstone?”

“Um, yes.”, Tempest nodded.

“Doesn't that mean that other Undead are providing their aid? Why didn't you ask them for help?”

“Um...”, Tempest said, his face turning a bit red. “The thing is... I never saw them. I think you can only see them when you are not hollowed out and I died so much... besides... I rarely could see them around the bonfires. I would have really needed some help to get to the actual guardians of the bells...”

He grew silent again and then asked: “Wait, Ornstein, does that mean you have a soapstone like this?”

“Um, well...”, Ornstein said, thinking about the time where he had let himself summoned to help with dragon attacks too far away. He always had given his glowing gold summon sign to anyone who needed his help and then it was passed to the next village. And each successful attempt rewarded him with a shiny golden medal.. proof that he put his faith into his master.

But then... the master had turned traitor and Ornstein had never used his summon sign again, stuffing the last few sun light medals into a random chest in Anor Londo.

“That doesn't matter at the moment, I am here to help you in person, right?”, Ornstein said, not wanting to dwell in these bad memories.

“And I am very glad about that.”, Tempest said, pocketing the red sign soapstone. Ornstein could hardly imagine the little Storm into a duel and chuckled to himself as they descended the tower, thinking about in which kind of chaos he would get himself into.

“What put you into such a happy mood?”, Tempest grumbled.

“Oh, nothing.”, Ornstein said and toned the chuckle down while still grinning to himself, gladly hidden by his helmet.

After a good while of walking the both of them arrived a the bottom of the tower.

“So what was the point of going up all these stairs only to go down again?”, Tempest asked, taking a look around. He briskly walked to the only door in the room and tried the handle but it wouldn't budge.

“The fog gate it is then.”, Tempest said warily. Ornstein knew why. Behind fog gates there often was a powerful foe. Tempest closed his eyes and braced himself as he walked through the fog gate, shuddering at the strange sensation on his skin. When he opened them again he overlooked some yard and in the middle of the yard was...

“What in the world is that, Ornstein?”, Tempest asked, pointing to the mass of bodies, spears and shields.

“Looks like one of Seath's failed experiments.”, Ornstein mused. The way the bodies were lined up reminded him of of a phalanx formation, the spear silver knights had been very good at taking this in. “I would mostly compare that to a phalanx formation, one that has gone horribly wrong. Shall we take care of them?”

Tempest gave Ornstein a nod and then the both of them charged forward. The good thing about these bodies was that they were slow, the bad thing was that there were many of them. Every time Ornstein took one of them down another seemed to take its place and he could see Tempest struggling besides him, receiving a nasty wound from a thrown spear and drinking from his Estus once in a while.

The battle felt like it lasted over five minutes but then finally the last of them fell. Tempest tried to drink from his Estus flask and then turned it around, peeking into it with one eye only to confirm that it was empty.

“Well, great. And no bonfire in sight.”, he sighed and counted his humanities, frowning at them. He wasn't keen on having to use them to heal himself.

“So where should we head?”, Ornstein asked. Tempest looked around. To the left he spotted some stairs, to the right a room with pillars and straight in front of them was another big door. Hm, the door looked familiar. Tempest walked over and it let itself push open. His eyes grew wide when he saw the familiar glimmer of the bonfire.

“Oh yes, that is exactly what I needed right now!”, he said and rushed to sit at the bonfire, eagerly filling up his Estus flask. Ornstein followed him and saw how he burned some humanity in the fire, making the flame glow brighter.

“I am glad you have your Estus flask filled up, but that also means that the phalanx formation will be back.”, Ornstein said. That resting at bonfires prompted every Undead around the Bonfire to come back was one of the things he didn't understand... it was just natural to Lordran.

“Oh right.”, Tempest sighed. “Oh well, we will be able to take on it again. Besides, it gave quite a few souls.” Ornstein watched with interest as Tempest offered some souls to the bonfire in exchange for soul power. He never could choose what he wanted, for him the soul power just got added to his own and he had to train his body to see an effect.

For Undead it was different. After Tempest was done with feeding souls to the bonfire he stood up and grabbed his weapons. “Let's go back there!”, he said. “From a logical standpoint, we should be done with exploring this place soon!”

“Lead the way, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and followed Tempest as he rushed off and locked the phalanx into another fight, this time only needing one sip of Estus. Like usual, the little Storm was extremely adaptable and learned with every mistake he made. It also had been the way he had managed to beat him and Smough after countless tries.

After the Phalanx was an unmoving mass of flesh and shield and spears again (not that it hadn't been that earlier, but at least now it wasn't moving), Tempest took another look around and went to the room with the pillars. Ornstein followed him and spotted a door. Tempest walked over and tried it.

“Locked.”, he said. “Then let's head to the other side first.”

Ornstein followed as Tempest fleet-footed scuttled through the snow and climbed up some stairs. “Stairs again.”, he muttered. “I hope they don't plan on sending us up and up and up again.”

“I take that you don't take kindly to the stairs in this place.”, Ornstein said.

“I don't want to see stairs ever again for a whole week after we are done here!”, Tempest shouted. To his surprise, after they had climbed the stairs the next stairs let down. “Oh, nevermind.”, he said and headed to the stairs but stopped when he saw a path to the left: “Let's take a look outside.”

The stairs led to a path which was guarded by some hollows. Tempest cut down the one carrying the torch while Ornstein cut down the regular one. Tempest then walked further until he kneeled down to pick something up. Ornstein silently watched as he saw two more hollows climb up from the walls and then wordlessly stabbed them both at once with his spear.

Tempest looked around in surprise when Ornstein moved and just shrugged when he saw the two corpses. “It appears this was a dead end.”, he said.

They headed back to the stairs that led downwards but Tempest didn't go down them but instead stared down.

“What's wrong, little Storm?”, Ornstein asked.

“I don't like the aura radiating from this place.”, Tempest said. “It looks dark and I don't want to know what kind of horrors are down there. Yet. Let's explore the yard instead.”

“Your choice.”, Ornstein said and stepped aside so that Tempest could go past him.

Ornstein asked himself what was that interesting at the yard, so far all he could see were a lot of corpses on sticks. “I actually ask myself who executed them all.”, he said to Tempest as he inspected the rather gruesome sight.

“I don't know and I don't want to know.”, Tempest said and got into a battle stance when he saw a hollow carrying a torch stumbling up the stairs. “Careful, there is another one!”, he whispered to Ornstein as the first one attacked and got stabbed with Tempest's sword. Ornstein took the other down with one swipe of his weapon.

“There is another one!”, Tempest pointed in the distance and stormed off. Ornstein sighed and slowly followed him, not being surprised in the slightest when the little Storm got caught in a pincer attack by two hollows. Even though their weapons were hardly sharp, it still caused enough damage for Tempest to fumble for his Estus flask while Ornstein took care of every hollow who dared to try and approach him.

“There seems to be nothing of interest here.”, Ornstein said, walking up to the ledge, they seemed to have reached the border of the Painted World. He looked down but couldn't make anything out.

“You are right, there are just a few souls lying around.”, Tempest said, picking them up regardless. He froze for a brief moment when he bend down the third time and looked back over his shoulder, confirming the sound he had just heard.

“Ornstein, there is an invader!”, he quickly sputtered out, sounding strangely amused, prompting the dragon slayer to turn around, hardly able to contain his laughter.

“What kind of headwear is THAT?!”, Ornstein said. It could only be called ridiculous. The invader was clad in light armour, probably a mage, and this wasn't looking too out of the ordinary, if not for the headwear that made them look like an oversized mushroom.

Both Tempest and Ornstein stopped laughing when they readied a pyromancy flame and fire pillars shot out of the ground, nearly roasting them both alive.

“Well, we have an advanced pyromancer here.”, Ornstein hissed. Of course it had to be his weakness, he never had been good with handling fire since the dragon war ended.

“Stay back, Ornstein, I will stagger them and you finish it!”, Tempest said, rushing forward, swinging his sword and managing to get a good hit on the phantom before their next spell was completed. They back stepped and readied a whip, Ornstein could hear Tempest cry out in pain when he was hit with it, but the little Storm rallied himself up and gave the phantom another heavy slash, enough for them to stagger. Ornstein used the opportunity to leap over and finish the job, the distinct sound of an Undead vanishing resonated.

“That would have been nasty if they would have been able to use their pyromancy without trouble. That was a good plan, little Storm.”, he said.

“You praising me? What is it, my birthday?”, Tempest said jokingly but his face blushed at the compliment. He collected the left over humanity of the phantom and picked up their weapon that for some strange reason hadn't left with their phantom.

“I think we probably can leave this place and go elsewhere.”, Ornstein suggested but Tempest had his eyes on the ground, following something that Ornstein couldn't see. After a a short while he rounded a corner and came back with a scroll.

“How did you know there would be magic hidden there?”, Ornstein said.

“A message told me.”, Tempest said.

“Oh.”, Ornstein said, “The orange guidance soap stone. Help from another world.”

Tempest nodded with a bright smile: “It's pyromancy I've never seen before.”

“Be careful with it, this place was used to get rid of anything that was deemed dangerous.”, Ornstein said. “Maybe speak to a specialist first before you use it.”

“Alright. I will show it to Laurentius the next time we stop at Fire Link.”, Tempest said and headed back to where the now dead phalanx was lying around. He looked around, determining which path to go next and headed to a small graveyard arena.

“There are graves here so people died before they became undead.”, he said.

“Or they all came back to life and these are the hollows we are seeing here.”, Ornstein said.

“Possible.”, Tempest said and headed into the direction of what was looking like a well. He stopped in front of it and looked down. “I don't like this, it looks dark and scary.”, he said.

“We have been to the catacombs and the Tomb of Giants, it surely was darker and scarier there.”, Ornstein scoffed as he shoved Tempest down the well, who gave out a surprised cry. A heavy thud and a sip of Estus later Ornstein followed him, landing on both of his feet without trouble like usual.

“You just have waited for your chance to do this again.”, Tempest grumbled.

“Possible.”, Ornstein grinned.

Down the well there actually was a path. “Normally wells don't look like this.”, Ornstein said. Tempest did a few steps forward then stopped.

“Do you hear this?”

“Hear what?”

“A sound like... something clattering or moving at a high speed?”

Ornstein shrugged and then both of them flinched when a bonewheel rushed past them.

“Oh please nooo.”, Tempest said, both hands going up to hold his head.

“And this time we don't have the height advantage.”, Ornstein said. “Ready your pyromancy, little Storm, we take them from afar.”

“Them?”, Tempest said, eyes growing wide.

“Listen, skeletons never come alone.”, Ornstein sighed.

After Tempest had readied his pyromancy flame he peeked around the corner which prompted the bonewheel to attack. A fireball and a lighting spear later it was only a charred mass of ash and bones on the ground.

“This looks like a maze...”, Ornstein said. “Go first, little Storm, you can heal yourself up when a bonewheel hits you.”

“That doesn't mean that it hurts less.”, Tempest said but took the lead anyway, knowing that Ornstein was right.

The only way to go was left until they had a strange wall.

“I guess we have to go ano...”, Tempest started and stared in awe when Ornstein just punched the wall and it vanished.

“I knew it. That wall looked far too phoney to be real.”, he said in a triumphant voice.

“Well, I guess that answers the question where to go.”, Tempest said. They followed the path further, taking out another bonewheel in the process which almost managed to shred Tempest into little pieces and then reached a dead end after another fake wall was unveiled.

Something glistened into the water. Tempest picked it up. “A key.”, he said.

“Maybe it is for the locked door we saw earlier?”, Ornstein suggested.

“Let's check it out later.”, Tempest said and turned around, the both of them once again navigating the maze, taking care of every bonewheel in the way until they found some stairs going up.

“Huh, I was expecting a lot but not stairs down here.”, Tempest said, ascending them. The only thing in the room in front of them was a toxic hollow. One that didn't even attack.

“What the...?”, Tempest said, going around the hollow and even poking it. “It's nice to see that they are not aggressive for once.”

“It looks like it is holding something.”, Ornstein said. Tempest went to take a look which made the hollow aggressive all of a sudden. A stabbing and a coughing later because the putrid smell filled the room, Tempest picked up another pyromancy scroll. “Definitely going to talk to Laurentius about it.”, he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

Back in the maze they nearly got themselves lost until Ornstein unveiled a fake wall that led into a far larger room. After the claustrophobic feel of the maze it was a nice change.

That feeling changed once Tempest heard the clattering sound of what only could be another bonewheel. With a sigh he pressed himself against the wall and just said: “Bonewheel.” to Ornstein who did the same.

The bonewheel managed to race right through the space the both of them had created and once it got up searching for where its prey had gone a sword and a spear simultaneously hit its skull and it didn't get up again.

“There are surely more in the large room.”, Ornstein murmured. “We should try to lure them out one by one. Little Storm?”

Tempest nodded with another sigh. He knew he was the obvious choice for being the decoy with him not being able to die and stuff and he didn't want to know how long it would take for Ornstein to heal when he would get hit with that razor sharp blades. Though the thought of nursing Ornstein back to health and feeding him soup when he couldn't move was intriguing. But, for now Tempest preferred Ornstein well and healthy, so he grabbed his sword, lighted his pyromancy flame and sneaked out into the room.

His eyes had gotten used to the dark enough so that he could count them. One, two, three, four, five. Five of them! Damn, he couldn't make a mistake or he would be in trouble. And probably back at the bonfire.

It was good that there were a few pillars in the room. Tempest used them to hide and one by one managed to lure the bonewheels near the maze where Ornstein waited and took them down with his charged spear.

Once the last bonewheel had fallen Ornstein stepped out in the room and Tempest looked down, the floor was filled with swallow, which made sense, they had gotten into a well.

“Um, Ornstein.”, Tempest started. “Wouldn't it have been possible to get all of them at once by shocking the water with your spear?”

“That would have hit you too, little Storm.”, Ornstein said. “And me. My armour may protect against lightning, but a full on shock I still would have suffered.”

“Oh.”, Tempest said, feeling a bit stupid. He had thought this stuff would have been easier, but Ornstein had a very good point.

“I surely hope coming down here was worth it.”, Ornstein said. “Have you found anything?”

“I haven't looked yet.”, Tempest said. “But I will now.”

The small Undead gave the room a thorough searching. He picked up some souls from the ground and then stopped in front of a handle. “This is bound to open something.”, he said and turned it. Nothing happened in the well but the both of them heard a sound coming from above. It sounded like something heavy had gotten shifted around.

“It certainly has done something up above.”, Ornstein said. “I guess that means we can leave this place. Good. My feet are wet and cold and the harsh climate outside doesn't make it better.”

“Yeah, let's go.”, Tempest said and headed to the opposite end of the room where he spotted a ladder. After they had both climbed it, Tempest stopped and got some cloth out which he handed Ornstein. “To dry your feet.”, he said as he got rid of his boots to do the same.

“How considerate, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and worked on getting his sabatons off.

“I don't want you to get a cold. You can get a cold, can't you?”, Tempest said. He himself hadn't gotten sick since he turned undead and even if would happen, Estus probably would be able to heal it without trouble.

“I can and I prefer not to have one.”, Ornstein confirmed for him. After Tempest had dried his own feet off and wrung out the water from his boots he glanced at Ornstein who spend a minute to dry his sabatons before putting them back on.

Once he was done, Tempest jumped up and walked back into the yard. A glance into the tower told him that the large wooden door had opened. “The handle has opened something.”, he said. Ornstein stood in front of the statue that was standing in the middle of the yard.

“Hasn't this statue faced the other way earlier?”, he asked.

Tempest shrugged. He hadn't paid attention to the statue at all, he had been too busy to fight off the phalanx.

“So little Storm, are we going there or not?”, Ornstein asked.

Tempest shook his head, too late realizing that Ornstein hadn't asked a yes or no question but managed to present the key from earlier before the dragon slayer could question him. “I would like to find out if this key opens the locked door first.”

“Very well.”, Ornstein said.

The key clicked in place and the wooden door swung open only to reveal... “Stairs again?!”, Tempest cried out and begrudgingly followed them with Ornstein staying close to him. It took only a short while for a toxic hollow to run up to them. Tempest stepped to the side so that Ornstein's far longer weapon could take care of it.

“I have to thank you for taking care of this obnoxious task.”, Tempest said.

“It's fine.”, Ornstein said. “It is oddly satisfying to make them pop.”

Tempest wrinkled his nose and followed the next flight of stairs, another toxic hollow was standing there, this time up above and shooting pyromancy. “Ugh, of course.”, Tempest said and reached for his bow, firing an arrow right in the middle of the hollow's swollen head.

“You are right, this is oddly satisfying.”, Tempest grinned, facing Ornstein as he walked up the rest of the stairs.

“Told you so.”, Ornstein said and then shifted his stance, growling: “Little Storm, corvian behind you.”

“Wha..?”, Tempest said and got a clean kick into the face before he had fully registered what had happened. “Ouch.”, he rubbed his chin as he brandished his sword and together with Ornstein's far more coordinated attack it fell.

It seemed like they had been run into another dead end. There was a huge hole in the ground which Tempest looked down and then threw a prism stone down. The following loud bang was enough to tell them that this fall would be deadly.

“Hm, there is another one of these bird woman up there.”, Tempest said, pointing to the roof.

“They are called corvians.”, Ornstein said, readying his spear and following Tempest who already had stormed up to take the corvian by surprise. Only to be taken by surprise by them because that whole situation had very much been a trap.

“I should have seen this coming...”, Ornstein said, a bit embarrassed that he hadn't seen through the trap as Tempest laid on the ground from being kicked by three of the corvians at once. He leapt into them and made his spear sparkle to give the little Storm some breathing room. Tempest used the opportunity to heal his wounds with a sip of Estus.

“That was mean.”, he growled as got up and engaged one of them into battle while Ornstein fended off two of them at once. After Ornstein had made sure to injure their wings they weren't that dangerous anymore and dead soon and when he turned around to help the little Storm he saw that he had learned from him and cut the wings of his foe too. With his shield he managed to block the attacks and then staggered it with a beautiful combo of his sword. One that Ornstein had taught him.

“Remind me to not run into such an obvious trap anymore.”, Tempest said, his face flushing red, if anger or embarrassment Ornstein didn't knew.

“I remind you all the time to not storm off.”, Ornstein said.

“I hope coming up here was worth it.”, Tempest said and picked something up, a scroll. “It's a miracle.”, he said a few moments later. “Can you take a look?”

Ornstein stepped closer to read the text on the scroll. He shuddered a bit when he realized just whose miracle it was. “I haven't seen art of her in a long time... the goddess of sin, Velka.”, he murmured. “Lord Gwyn didn't like her very much and so it doesn't surprise me that her miracles have been banned to his place.”

“What does it do?”, Tempest asked.

“In short, if you use this miracle, no magic can be used around a certain area for a limited while.”, Ornstein said. “You probably guess why Lord Gwyn didn't like Velka very much.”

Tempest simply nodded and hopped down the stairs, Ornstein followed him. Instead of going back to the yard however, Tempest followed another little path where two other toxic hollows resided. Tempest missed the shot with his bow for the first one so that Ornstein took care of it but managed to pop the second one just fine.

“If I would have known how fun this is I would have fought more than just the two at the beginning.”, he murmured.

“Be glad that I gave you the tip to stay away from them. I don't want to know how it feels when you accidentally breath in their toxins.”, Ornstein said.

In the small yard they were there was only a statue... at closer inspection it was a blacksmith, petrified. Tempest picked up something that he hold in his hands. A very unusual ember. Ornstein shuddered when he saw it.

“Of course a blacksmith using this ember would be banished...”, he whispered.

“What is so bad about this ember?”, Tempest asked. “I agree it looks unusual, but it feels warm and... familiar.”

“Of course it would feel fine for you, that thing is from occult nature. A dark ember. And well, you have a dark soul.”

“Huh.”, Tempest said, pocketing the ember. “I will give this to Andre later.”

Tempest followed the path they had come back but then stopped, leaning against the wall made of wooden planks. “Phew, I hope we are out of here soon, I just start to realize how exhausting this whole trip is.”

“And that says the one who is Undead and doesn't need to eat or drink.”, Ornstein said.

“Hey, I can still get muscle cramps.”, Tempest complained and before he could say something else the wooden boards smashed under his “weight” and he fell down with them.

“Ouch...”, Tempest said and got up, presenting a weapon when he came back to Ornstein. “I found this when I fell.”

“Hm, pretty sure that some of the hollows here once has been a pardoner of Velka now...”, Ornstein said, inspecting the rapier. “The miracle, the typical weapon for her followers...”

“There is some history in this painting.”, Tempest whispered.

“Whatever it was, it doesn't matter anymore. Now they are all hollow.”, Ornstein said. “Let's finally find the one he came here for, little Storm.”

“Alright.”, Tempest put the rapier into his bag and the both of them made the trek to the now open door in the tower. A large bridge was seen. At closer inspection, two hollows and a large knight guarded it.

“That is all?”, Tempest said. “I thought a bridge like this would be guarded better.”

Tempest was off before Ornstein could say: “Wait, little Storm.” and of course said little Storm was getting quickly overwhelmed by the now very obvious trap.

Ornstein sighed and rushed in to help him, taking two hollows down at once and pinning one under his foot as another one attacked. It gave Tempest enough time to drink from his Estus and get up.

“I thought I told you to remind me to not run into traps anymore.”, Tempest grumbled.

“I thought I told you not to storm off all the time.”, Ornstein retorted as Tempest got rid of one of the sharpshooters with an angry yell.

Soon all the hollows were down and only the large knight remained.

“He looks like the one in the Undead Parish.”, Tempest said. “Parry should do the trick, but I could never find a way to counterattack.”

“That is a knight of Berenike.”, Ornstein said. “Huge for humans like you see. They can be described as literal walls. But together we should be able to take him down easily.”

“Alright, I'll go first.”, Tempest said as the knight noticed them and turned around with his big sword raised.

All the training surely paid off because Tempest managed to easily parry the blow of the massive sword which made Ornstein able to get a good hit in once the knight was staggered, but not enough to actually take it down. One repeat of that process later it collapsed to the ground and now the way to a fog gate was free.

“This must be it...”, Ornstein said. “I can feel her presence...”

“I am so excited.”, Tempest said and crossed the fog gate, Ornstein followed him after a few seconds, he still needed to steel himself.

The sight Tempest saw in front of him he could only describe as... beautiful. And HUGE. The woman in front of him was easily thrice his size (and he thought Ornstein was tall) and was wearing a fur coat in all white and was that a fluffy tail?! She also was possessing long white hair and her skin looked as delicate as the snow around her if not for the horns and scales dotting her face. In her hands she was holding the largest scythe he had ever seen.

She noticed his presence and turned around, speaking in a soft and gentle voice: “Who art thou? One of us, thou art not. If thou hast misstepped into this world, plunge down from the plank, and hurry home. If thou seekest I, thine desires shall be requited not.”

“I, uh...”, Tempest stuttered. “My friend wanted to talk to you.”

He stepped aside to let Ornstein through who hadn't uttered a single thing once the woman had spoken.

“Priscilla.”, Ornstein said.

“Dragon Slayer.”, Priscilla said. “Thou art not having any business here.”

“I've...”, Ornstein started, searching for words. “I've come to free you from this place. You have been greatly wronged by the gods of Anor Londo and the last one of them wishes to undo what their father has done to you.”

“I have no desire to come with thee.”, Priscilla said, her voice had turned from the gentle and pleading tone into something that was pure ice.

“But... why?”, Ornstein said, clearly having expected a different answer.

“This land is peaceful, its inhabitants kind.”, Priscilla said and Tempest cocked his head until he had eye contact with Ornstein. He hadn't found a single kind inhabitant in this place chuck full of Hollows. “And thou dost not belong, Dragon Slayer, as well as thine friend.”

Tempest pointed to him, saying: “Who, me?”, but got shut down by Ornstein.

“Are you absolutely sure?”, he asked. “Anor Londo has changed. The ones who have imprisoned you aren't there anymore. The war has been long over.”

“Tell me, Dragon Slayer.”, Priscilla spoke again, “Is there a single dragon left?”

Ornstein didn't answer but instead looked down at the ground.

“The world outside has no room for me as the world in here has no room for thee.”, Priscilla said. “I beg of thee, plunge down from the plank and hurry home.”

“Even when I tell you that your sibling is still out there?”, Ornstein said. Priscilla's eyes turned wide but then she averted her gaze.

“I cannot leave this place.”, he whispered. “It's... they need me. Please leave me alone and hurry home. And... take care of mine sibling...”

“Very well.”, Ornstein said. “At least nobody can say from us that we haven't tried.” Without another word he walked over the plunge Priscilla had spoken off. Tempest followed him, eyeing a corpse that laid there. Wasn't that that ridiculous headwear of the invader...?

“Wait.”, Ornstein turned around when Priscilla's voice sounded another time.

“What is it?”, he asked.

“Mine father... how is he?”

Ornstein and Tempest both looked at each other and then awkwardly every where but at Priscilla. It was Ornstein who spoke next: “I am sorry, but... he had to be laid down. He had gotten mad and had become a danger for everyone including himself.”

Tempest was thinking about speaking up, wasn't the truth that he had needed his soul for the lord vessel but decided against it. It seemed to be Ornstein's way to deliver a harsh truth... with a comforting lie.

“I... see.”, Priscilla said and turned around. “I thank thee for telling me.”

Priscilla didn't spoke again and Ornstein turned around too. Tempest had fallen on his knees and inspected the fall. “There is no way we will survive this fall.”, he said.

“You will.”, Ornstein said and pushed Tempest down who yelped in surprise before taking the jump himself.

When Tempest came to himself, they were outside of the painting, back in Anor Londo.

“..That felt like a big waste of time.”, Tempest said.

“I wouldn't say that.”, Ornstein said. “At least I could give her some closure.”

“At least...”, Tempest said, looking back at the painting, asking himself just how many beings had to suffer like Priscilla just because one god had decided to start a war. (Author's note: Ancient english is hard! When I made a mistake please tell me so that I can correct it. I have a few specific headcanons about the knights of Gwyn having used soap stones, mostly because Sif has a freaking summon sign in Manus boss room. When Sif had one, than surely Artorias had one. And Ornstein too.) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/613218120893693952/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-24-fandom-dark

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #chosen undead #oc tempest #orndead #crossbreed priscilla #littlewritesstuff #I established a lot of important stuff in the painted world ^^ #stay tuned!

[thisonesatellite]

10, 12, 13, 20, 30, 36, 49. 😘

Oh - my lovely, wonderful friend - i am SO sorry you had to wait.  But here you go!

(Also - this got SO LONG.  Apparently i’m incapable of brevity when it comes to personal questions.  Bear with me?)

10.   Do you set yourself deadlines?

Kind of.  i am constantly battling letting-the-muse-come-to-me and not wanting to lose momentum, but i have found that for me, a deadline is not useful, because a story does move at its own pace, and sometimes it has to have room to grow.

So, instead of setting myself deadlines, i set myself a writing schedule.  i write for two hours every other weeknight, and usually all day Sunday (unless i have plans).  This writing time is not at all encumbered by goals like number of words or chapters, because i personally find those to be useless measurements.  The important thing is to keep writing, no matter how many or few words come.  Because just as in my job, (if i have to make a trailer for a movie i absolutely despise), it’s interesting what you can accomplish if you simply sit down and do it.

So basically the muse and i have an agreement: i force her to show up during set times, but within these she gets to play however much or little she wants to.  😆

12.  Describe your perfect writing space

Man, i wish i had one.  Ever since i started writing i’ve realized how much i do NOT have a writing space - i literally use the dining room table and a chair which gets supremely uncomfortable after an hour or so, which is NOT THE TEXTBOOK WAY of doing anything.  i’ve been giving serious thought to rearranging my apartment.

But my perfect space would be a room facing north, because that gives you indirect sunlight all day, with a large wooden desk and a comfortable chair, art on the walls, room for my tea pot, an overstuffed book case along one wall, and a cushy sofa with lots of pillows along the other, on which to read and nap take breaks.

Or, you know, the kind of home library which @profdanglaisstuff and @shireness-says are so fond of describing.  (Library porn is my ultimate addiction, make no mistake about it.)

Basically, i need THIS:

13.  Describe your writing process from idea to polished

This is actually different for MCs and oneshots.

For MC chapters, my first draft is what i call writing-vomit.  Yep, i know, gross.  But it describes it very accurately - i just write until the idea is ‘out’.  But - interstingly enough - this is not always at full throttle.  i do take time to think on occasion, choose my words, forge accurate plot lines.  What i do NOT do during this process is go back over anything i’ve written.  This is purely forward motion.

Out comes a bare-bones skeleton of a chapter, very much plot-oriented, which i usually give @profdanglaisstuff to just look over and give me a second opinion.  She is amazing at working with bare bones, and just nudging the parts which need work.

Then i put on the 'emotional flesh’.  Add character beats where needed, and take out all the extraneous bits.  i usually spend more time eliminating stuff, or tightening phrases, than i do adding elements.   Then both @profdanglaisstuff and @ohmightydevviepuu get their “day in court”, and i let them punch holes in EVERYTHING.  Which i then try to plug.  And then i usually let it sit in AO3 drafts for at least a day before going over everything one last time, because all writing needs some distance before the final check.

Oneshots are different.  They usually pour out of me (man, i have gross metaphors for everything!) in one sitting, and somehow usually end up being much more complete on both plot and character front.  i think it is because my oneshots are ALL character beats and practically no plot whatsoever, so i don’t have to bother with the latter and can just concentrate on the former.  

(Oneshots are also different because their inspiration is not plot, but character driven.  They happen because a version of E&K comes at me and demands to be written, and i just wrap the circumstances around the particular emotional journey of that story.  MCs are the opposite: They are plot-based, and their E&K versions are very much influenced by the world i make them inhabit.)

So, oneshots go straight to the “please, Saira, punch ALL THE HOLES NOW”-stage of things, and usually only need a bit of polish afterwards.

TL;DR: i spew some words and then @profdanglaisstuff, and sometimes @ohmightydevviepuu, help make it into something worth reading.  

20.  How many WIPs and story ideas do you have?

i already answered that one here.

30.  Favourite idea you haven’t started on yet

This one i have also answered – here.  😘

36.  Last sentence you wrote

It is an order.

(Aren’t you SO GLAD you asked?)  😆

49.  Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?  

Ooooh - great question.  David, hands down.  He’s smart and kind and wickedly funny (even if he hardly got to show it).  He and i would tear up some sh*t.

😆

Thank you for the wonderful questions, Krystal, sorry the answers got so long!

LOVE & HUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

❤❤❤❤❤

#ask game #asked and answered #kmomof4

[thejackalsden]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED: So I legit have two speeds. I’ll either reply the instant you do - like five seconds after - or I’ll take like two weeks. I get distracted by Discord & World of Warcraft a lot? So it’s not uncommon to see me post memes and everything and then just space out and wait until inspiration REALLY smacks me in the mouth?

Or like I said, I reply like five seconds after you post it, there is no mercy here, have that draft back I don’t want it.

REPLIES: …I cannot write short replies - I’m sure you’ve seen this if you’ve been following, or you will the more replies I get to churn out. I like getting into character’s heads, I like getting into their thoughts, body languages, all that.

Give me depth, give me detail and reasoning as to what your character is doing in a reply, because Divines know it’s all gonna be in mine….Sorry to those of you constantly given word vomit replies - I swear I don’t mean to keep doing it…..

STARTERS: I usually adore writing starters. It’s not hard for me to come up with ideas - Most of these muses are so damn flexible after all - that as long as I can get something from my potential partner (Time line or an area, or if we’ve gone so far as to plot a little bit and scream about our muses) I can usually jot them up fairly quickly when inspiration strikes. Comes from having written most of these muses for a very long time ^^’

INBOX: ….This one is the muddiest. I have had such bad luck with inboxes and anons and the like. It isn’t a priority, but I love answering drabble-like memes. Or even the starter sentence ones and building off of that. Admittedly, some are more challenging than others, but it’s a good exercise to explore the muse in ways you might not normally.

That being said, despite issues with anon in the past, I do still keep it on; I know how intimidating it can be to see an inbox that anon isn’t an option when you wanna talk to a mun for the first time, so I can’t bring myself to just keep it off.

Negativity usually just gets deleted immediately as it is.

SELECTIVITY: I’m a bit of an odd case. I’ll follow any blog so long as I like the writing of the mun. If it flows a specific way, if it’s easy to read, if the characterization is believable to how they write their muse on a consistent basis (Yeah there’s a lot that goes into following that most don’t realize xD I’m on your blog for a bit before I hit that button, hello I’m your new stalker)

I’m a bit of a stickler, perhaps ironically, when it comes to Original Characters. I understand they all start somewhere, but there is a certain amount of development I expect to see before I follow, and why I don’t interact with too many on Tumblr? I’m a huge sucker for character development, and if there’s an inadequate amount of it for an OC, I lose interest very quickly, so yeah….

WISHLIST: Just more interactions in general. Give me all the character development for both parties, give me all the angst and emotional development. I love developing my muses, putting them through the wringer and getting them out of their comfort zones, let me explore how these brats react under intense stress, under things that should break them yet they still persevere - give them soft moments of others showing they care and that these monsters aren’t alone in their pain. 

HONEST NOTE: I’m a very…emotionally closed off person. I love talking to y’all about your muses and screaming about feels or plots or anything pertaining to writing. I struggle remembering to keep in touch with people - I get distracted as I said earlier - but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested, or I’m just done with things. I know it seems odd to say, but I’m really just a huge, scatterbrained nerd.

Trust me, once I get comfortable around you, the trick is getting me to shut up about our muses and ideas..

STOLEN FROM:  Yeah no I stole this Bitch TAGGING: @aeternai, @forsakensoldier, @soldierwatch​, @lepussolum​, & whoever else sees it and wants to do it, feel free to say I tagged you!

#About Anubis #{ Saw this figured it wouldn't hurt to pop on here #Bit of a 'hey just to let you know' thing }

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: Angst One Shots Part I

Click here for Part II & Part III!

84 Works.

Fallout by limesicle  ( T | 2,505 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does everything the hard way. Falling in love isn't an exception.

It doesn't take him long to realize he's falling, but it takes him ten years to admit it to himself. It takes another ten before he says it out loud.

For the Future by limesicle  ( T | 2,886 | 1/1 )

In which All Might doesn’t arrive in time. In which Katsuki watches his childhood friend fall by his own hand. In which he realizes too many things after he’s lost too much.

[Major Character Death | Suicidal Thoughts]

Words They Didn't Say by crushingblue  ( G | 1,804 | 1/1 )

Bakugou doesn't know how to say enough. Deku is scared to say too much.

Series Part 1 of Future Feelings

Crossroads by atosei  ( T | 1,493 | 1/1 )

“I already told you,” he said steadily, “I’m leaving for good. As of today, I’m resigning as a Pro Hero.” Bakugou laughed harshly. “You’ve got to be kidding me – you, resigning? Best joke I’ve heard in years.”

If you really knew Bakugou, you’d be able to hear the hint of fear he was trying to hide behind those cruel words. And if you really knew Midoriya, you’d be able to see in his eyes that he was dead serious. And they really did know each other that well, to that extent, to be able to pick up on the emotions that they’d tried so hard to lock away and it was then that something broke between them, something irreversible and Bakugou knew he couldn’t keep this up any longer.

Series Part 1 of Intersection

imbalance (he knocked the world from under your feet) by dovedapple  ( G | 506 | 1/1 )

/ɪmˈbal(ə)ns/ noun the lack of proportion or relation between corresponding things.

Taraché by Funky Hanji (Temari)  ( T | 4,571 | 1/1 )

- «Hey Bakugou. […] You ever been afraid of your quirk? It’s hella strong, I bet it was scary until you learned to control it…! » -

Choices by stardustacademia (cosmiclarents)  ( T | 576 | 1/1 )

The only summary I can think of for this is what's in the tags, honestly. Angsty vague bakudeku w/ a splash of plot. Just a bit.

Series Part 1 of Drabbles With Potential

opia by Ramabear (RyMagnatar), timeto-explode (NoWayApril)  ( T | 2,169 | 1/1 )

In an attempt to breach the wall put up between Bakugou and Midoriya, All Might and Aizawa try something a little unorthodox. The two teens are set down in chairs across from each other with the instruction to stay there and look into each other's eyes.

The strange vulnerability that follows spurs a confession that Bakugou isn't prepared for in the least.

Так бывает by Serpentaria  ( G | 705 | 1/1 )

Так бывает, что ты не предназначен своей родственной душе.

Fearless by ukiinas  ( G | 1,434 | 1/1 )

Izuku's fiery spirit and compassion were so dazzling that it blinded him; his strength and endurance were so captivating that it scorched him like an inextinguishable flame. They’d never come on equal terms as to even try and begin to understand one another, and perhaps Katsuki was to blame, but it was precisely due Izuku’s brilliance that he found it hard to approach him.

Series Part 1 of Fear, Pride, Denial

Tempo by ichikonohakko  ( G | 2,081 | 1/1 )

He promised Katsuki the world.

But Deku was a villain. And no villain should be trusted.

--- Or in which Deku let himself slip up in a moment of weakness.

Series Part 7 of Villain!Deku AU

reconnect: extended version by Ramabear (RyMagnatar)  ( T | 4,639 | 1/1 )

After a brief meeting at Yuuei, Izuku takes Katsuki back to his small apartment for conversation and dinner.

{ Curator’s Note: This work is tagged with “Exes”. }

Screaming never helps Screaming always helps Don't scream Do scream by inspectorwired  ( T | 551 | 1/1 )

Don't look at me that way

Tears by frostyoctopus ( Not Rated | 436 | 1/1 )

lil one shot i made of kaachan/deku.... i rly like bnha haha. i dont read the manga OOPS so idk if these characterizations are 100% accurate... kaachan ponders the real reason why he hates deku so much but he cant pin-point the specific emotion he feels towards deku...

Make Every Moment Last by osakakitty  ( E | 6,885 | 1/1 )

There are days where Izuku Midoriya wakes in a different world. It is usually a world very similar to his own, but with noticeable changes. The thing that changes the most is Katsuki Bakugo. Sometimes he's a friend, sometimes he's not, and sometimes he's something else entirely.

Canon-Divergent story where Midoriya has the uncontrollable ability to travel to parallel universes. He sleeps in one, and may wake up in another. By seeing through the eyes of many different 'Izuku Midoriya,' he learns things about himself and Bakugo.

Terrible Losses by AshREvans  ( T | 1,339 | 1/1 )

rasm835g asked: Could you write a scenario describing Bakugou or midoriya having to react to the other one dying, and how their reactions would differ from one another

From my BNHA scenario blog https://myheroscenarios.tumblr.com/ Feel free to submit requests!!!

Series Part 4 of Multifandom Tumblr Requests Part 3 of BNHA Tumblr Requests

[Major Character Death]

Your sorrow, pouring out of your skin by tandum (nea_writes)  ( T | 3,433 | 1/1 )

Izuku dies in Katsuki's arms, and he becomes intimately familiar with the long shadow of regret.

He's so full of regret he wishes he could vomit it out.

Every time he hurt Deku, every moment he rejected him, every single instance he made Deku's smile fade, haunts Katsuki.

What he should've said to Deku long ago, what he never said, what even in his dying moments he held back, he says now, to the only person who'll understand, and who will never forgive him.

Series Part 1 of Even though all I wanted to do was become strong like you

[Major Character Death]

blindness by umbrage  ( M | 1,771 | 1/1 )

There's a fine line between love and hate, but Bakugou's willful lack of nuance proves both to be equally painful.

Here Comes a Thought by myraj  ( T | 600 | 1/1 )

"Kacchan, I'm here"

Snap Out Of It by ReturnToZero  ( Not Rated | 1,068 | 1/1 )

There was a time in his childhood where he had hopes and dreams of being the best, with the full support of those all around him. Everyone knew he could be a top hero, and he was just waiting on finding a suitable sidekick early on, to ensure they both would be top notch and tightly knit.

“Mom has the ability to pull small objects to herself, I might get that as my quirk!” the quiet voice muses, the joy of imagining his soon to be quirk filling his words with hope unlike any other.

“Still not as good as my quirk though! Cmon Izuchan, you have to do better than that if you wanna be my sidekick.”

Bakudeku Week Day 2: Cotton Candy / Childhood / Sloth

Series Part 2 of BakuDeku Week 2k17

Happy Birthday Deku! by LionellLim  ( M | 3,566 | 1/1 )

15th of July was the day of our hero special day but can he celebrate it with his lover without getting interrupted with his work?

Series Part 4 of Katsudeku compilation of one shot

skin shouldn't look like that by HummusKing  ( M | 3,007 | 1/1 )

“How about I cut you a deal! You’re a prideful kid right? How about I’ll stop if you get on your knees and beg.” Tomura took his hand off Midoriya’s face, the flesh blistering red as blood began to trickle down the boy’s cheeks. Midoriya’s eyes began to flutter, the pain causing him to slowly lose consciousness but he kept his gaze locked with Bakugou’s. Something in his emerald eyes had pleaded for him, maybe to tell him to give up and to get out, or maybe it was a plea for help – Bakugou didn’t know.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture & Blood)]

I'll Wait by ZoZoTheTaco  ( T | 489 | 1/1 )

For BakuDeku week.

"I waved goodbye to you knowing that you'd come back home to me."

Katsuki falls apart waiting for Izuku to come back home. (inner-monologue style)

I was not born to drown by yabakuboi  ( T | 2,645 | 1/1 )

One more night, Izuku thinks. He’ll stay with me one more night.

another old space odyssey by sorethroat  ( T | 2,058 | 1/1 )

“Car-di-o-meg..aly,” Deku fumbles around the words. “I can’t see the moon with you.”

He stands there, Deku smiling tight like if he moves his tears will spill over, and they’re too young to laugh at the idea that the insurmountable obstacle in front of them is a heart that’s just too big.

-

Bakugou is an astronaut but he's forgotten why. Midoriya wants him to come home.

Lovesick by halcyonwhispers  ( M | 2,652 | 1/1 )

Izuku must’ve felt sorry for him more than Katsuki first thought. There’s always some stupid penalty ‘date’ that’s supposed to make Katsuki feel better because Izuku’s made of fucking rainbows and stupid sunshine.

He couldn’t even let his fuck buddy feel like he’s been used.

"Care" by The_Simpatico_Writer (AjhayLee)  ( G | 826 | 1/1 )

Your life was a movie Scene by scene You had your thoughts that he would soon be Your Teenage Dream And with your fire, you assumed he Would put it out But he couldn't

Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care

Waiting for you to care (3x) You thought he had landed All maxed out You let him fall and leave him stranded Without a doubt And you're here beggin' for a lover Well turn around because you missed it Oh you missed it Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care Waiting for you to care (3x) Look at yourself Is this really what you wanted Is this really what you wanted Look at yourself Look at what you started Waiting for you to care (3x) Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care

[Major Character Death]

Rose Knows by origami_soul  ( Not Rated | 501 | 1/1 )

Bakugou meets a younger Deku in his dream.

[Bullying]

Aquiver by stardustacademia (cosmiclarents)  ( Not Rated | 4,083 | 1/1 )

This is supposed to be their happily ever after.

Unfortunately, 'Happily Ever After' doesn't always guarantee unconditional satisfaction.

Radio Silence  ( T | 1,634 | 1/1 )

When making a dangerous plan one must consider Murphy's law. For those who are unfamiliar, the law states, "anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." But there's a hidden side to this rule that comes into play when you least expect it, "If things are ok, expect them to get bad. And if they do, expect them to get worse."

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore)]

Walls by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine)  ( T | 5,245 | 1/1 )

Official sources had announced, that the two students from UA’s Class 1-A, who had been missing for the past three days, had been recovered during a raid led by Heroes, with the participation of their classmates. There had been no official statement regarding the state the two students are in, but hospital sources had confirmed that they are alive, and their lives are not in danger.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture) | Psychological Torture]

syzygy by shousanki  ( T | 2,151 | 1/1 )

The thought of being apart never even crossed Izuku's mind until it became a reality, and then a nightmare.

we run in antiparallel.  ( T | 1,181 | 1/1 )

there are different ways in which a boy can be saved.

katsudeku week: day 2 - heroes/villains

Sleeping With Ghosts by lalazee  ( M | 1,003 | 1/1 )

“I guess even heroes have to do their grocery shopping.” “Villains, too,” Katsuki said tightly. “Villains?” Deku blinked, gasping softly as he went to his tip toes and looked over the aisle divider. “Where? Shit, Kacchan, you’d better get on that!”

Written for KatsuDeku Week 2017, Day 2: Heroes/Villains.

the way you are is like a dream.  ( T | 4,001 | 1/1 )

nothing makes sense in this world. especially bakugou katsuki.

bakudeku week: day 3 - fantasy (a different kind of au)

[Implied/Referenced Bullying]

I'm Sorry by Viciedy  ( Not Rated | 1,074 | 1/1 )

Suicide. Late apologies. Lack of self-expression. Depression. What more is left?

Bakugou Katsuki sulking in his locked room with a cutter in his hand.

[Major Character Death | Suicide]

“if it could be you…” by holdingoutforahero  ( E | 1,508 | 1/1 )

Loving Katsuki is something Izuku just does.

Only in My Memories. by aeyongdarling  ( G | 1,703 | 1/1 )

He always sees him talking, sees him sending a message and always hear him muttering his usual things. But it seems he was always ignored, always talked over. As if he doesn't exist in other's lives.

Mentiroso Pierrot by Stasawe  ( G | 2,663 | 1/1 )

"No tienes que soportarlo tú solo." Ser capaz de hacer sonreír a la gente era su mayor sueño. Izuku haría cualquier cosa con tal de conseguir ver a las personas felices. Por otro lado, Katsuki estuvo reprimiendo la libertad que le correspondía.

Count of Three by lalazee  ( M | 1,522 | 1/1 )

“You asshole,” Bakugou said, numb fingers fumbling as he shucked off his gloves and threw them aside. “Save two dozen people and then do this? Not on your life.”

Quirkless Vigilante Deku AU.

Series Part 1 of Vigilante/Quirkless!Deku AU

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood & Mild Gore)]

Deku please don't go... by miiba_chan (marichat_girl13)  ( T | 531 | 1/1 )

Series Part 2 of Bakudeku oneshots!

[Suicide]

Bound to You by Magefeathers  ( T | 5,751 | 1/1 )

There were a few moments of nothing but the static, and Izuku feared that maybe the demon had disconnected after all. But then the voice spoke again, and this time it was flat, listless, without any of the anger and fire Izuku had come to expect from it.

“I exist to destroy you, Midoriya Izuku,” he repeated. When he continued his voice was bitter, and almost sad. “I’m bound to you. I am going to steal your breath from you, because that’s the only way for me to be free. Sooner or later, one way or another, I will destroy you.”

there are listed buildings by semiautomatichearts  ( M | 3,309 | 1/1 )

Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Healing Process by shewizzard  ( M | 10,962 | 1/1 )

When an injury leaves Deku out of commission, Bakugou steps in to help the healing process. Between all of his friends feeding him up and Bakugou pushing him Midoriya ends up putting on some pounds.

Let the Petals Fall by limesicle  ( T | 4,976 | 1/1 )

In a world where hanahaki emerged around the same time as quirks did, it's a disease that doesn't happen to many. But it does seem to run in families. Ever since Katsuki heard that his mother had it, he wondered if he'd get it, too. When the first signs occurred, he tried to fight it. But as the green flowers kept spilling from his lungs, it got harder to ignore.

In short, it's the katsudeku hanahaki AU that no one asked for.

Series Part 1 of Tiger Lilies and Crysanthemums

Our Dream by Purplemerald  ( G | 1,176 | 1/1 )

"Izuku, what do you really want? Die never accomplishing your dreams? Or live and...?" Katsuki didn't continue but the words were already said.

Live and be with me.

[Major Character Death]

11 Miles by Dragonbooks249  ( T | 3,752 | 1/1 )

Is there something you want? Something you need? How far are you willing to go to get it? Bakugou Katsuki would go anywhere to get what he wants. What he needs.

[Major Character Death]

Близко by Explodocat  ( G | 1,175 | 1/1 )

Сигареты. И вещи, озвучивать которые вовсе не обязательно.

Punishment by Purplemerald  ( G | 1,314 | 1/1 )

"You who have done evil, you are a sinner, you do not deserve happiness, you will never forget your sin."

Deku..

I want to be your friend again..

But I'll never forget that I hurt you. Even if that pure smile is given to me, I can never forgive myself.

[Major Character Death]

Pained Lotus by VoidRune  ( T | 1,732 | 1/1 )

Katsuki was still working out the toughest parts of understanding his boyfriend, of rediscovering the childhood friend he lost somewhere along the way. Most of the time, it wasn't expected, but endearing in ways he had simply never seen before.

At times, they just looped back into some old wounds.

Katsuki hated not knowing what to do, but he tries.

Series Part 1 of Lotus

Loving Him is Painful by ioooriiii15  ( Not Rated | 321 | 1/1 )

She's there whenever you're in pain.

She's there when the world turn its back to you.

Why did you let her go?

'Til Death Do Us Part by reijeux  ( T | 2,448 | 1/1 )

Izuku is the world’s greatest hero. It doesn’t take long before Katsuki notices he’s changing; it doesn’t take long for Izuku to realize what’s happening to himself, either.

[Major Character Death]

Start At Ground Zero by lalazee  ( T | 1,551 | 1/1 )

The longer Katsuki knew Deku, the more he realized how much he didn’t know.

Hospital scene, aftermath.

Series Part 2 of Vigilante/Quirkless!Deku AU

A Hero by Purplemerald  ( G | 822 | 1/1 )

Trapped under a villain attack, Izuku could only scream his name as Katsuki makes his decision.

Chewed Up by warschach  ( E | 30,693 | 1/1 )

Zombie apocalypse, more than a third of the population currently dead or in the state of undead, and Katsuki still somehow managed to get his shit stolen by two chicks and Freckle boy.

Fuck this new generation.

Scattered Anemones by gaytodoroki  ( T | 3,582 | 1/1 )

"Fuck you for making me cough up a ton of shitty flowers," is what Bakugou might say to him, if he had the courage to actually confess and wasn't stuck panicking over his stupid crush.

[Panic Attacks]

we make homes out of people and we forget that they are bones and blood and stardust and all of them can perish as well. by moonblossoms  ( G | 854 | 1/1 )

katsuki reflects on his life with and without izuku.

[Major Character Death]

silk by holdingoutforahero  ( G | 669 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is anxious, Izuku can recognize that even from the slightest signs. He is going to snap any second and this time Izuku has to let it slide instead of letting out a weary sigh and a sharp “Kacchan”. Katsuki’s hand is slightly trembling as he ties the obi of his inner underrobe. Izuku steps closer to him and pulls the narrow belt out of his hands.

“Here, let me."

For the Flowers that Bloom Inside by limesicle  ( T | 8,457 | 1/1 )

Hanahaki develops in approximately two out of a hundred people. The strength, the prognosis, and the outcome depend on the person afflicted and, of course, the person who made the disease present in the first place. Izuku has known these things for as long as he can remember–for as long as he’s seen his mother coughing petals. Two out of a hundred–and he would be one of them–like being quirkless wasn’t bad enough.

Izuku’s side of the story of the katsudeku hanahaki AU (you don’t need to read the other half first to understand it)

Series Part 2 of Tiger Lilies and Crysanthemums

A Classical Storm by oceanswrath  ( T | 1,400 | 1/1 )

In that moment only the two of them existed, a force to be reckoned with greater than the storm raging outside.

i have seen every single one of your life milestones and i’m really glad i’m one of them. by moonblossoms  ( G | 1,072 | 1/1 )

izuku reflects on the milestones he and katsuki have shared together aka i write a terrible fanfic at 3am and say the word milestones a lot.

[Major Character Death]

Odd Combinations by whatthefuckisupkyle  ( M | 1,813 | 1/1 )

Katsuki called Izuku over to his house because he was just a mess at 3AM.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con | Implied/Referenced Self-Harm | Implied/Referenced Abuse]

{ Curator’s Note: None of the Rape & Abuse warned about above is between Katsuki and Izuku. It is from Bakugou explaining all the things that were wrong in the relationship he was in that he had just ended. }

Green Haze by reijeux  ( T | 2,408 | 1/1 )

Denying his soulmate the first time brings a nightmarish consequence to Katsuki as he's forced to live through different lifetimes where he dreads the coming of Christmas.

[Major Character Death]

stained glass variation of truth by cheaperthantherapy  ( T | 3,717 | 1/1 )

It has been six years.

Well, it has been six years, ten months and four days.

Twenty-Four by SharkbaitSekki  ( T | 15,874 | 1/1 )

Izuku gets himself kidnapped, and Katsuki is dragged into it with him as they face villains with particularly terrifying illusion Quirks.

It ends up being a living nightmare, but Katsuki can't bring himself to regret following Izuku into it all. Because between the pain and the terror, between the lies and the illusions, between life and death, at least they can always hang onto one another. Even if everything else is fake, they know that they will always be real.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture)]

This is Grinder, not Christian Mingle... by Crandberrycrush  ( E | 7,568 | 1/1 )

The quality of the video was horrible, fuzzy green hair was all he could see for the first few seconds, before a flushed and freckled smile much too close to the camera appeared, followed closely by a gratuitous amount of laughter.

“Kaaaaachaaannnn…. What are you doooooin’?”

The screen wobbled and refocused on the face, round cheeks glowing in the red and yellow lights of some unknown bar. Cheesy pop music cracked through his speakers - trash that Katsuki would never be caught dead listening to. Suddenly the image switched from Izuku’s face to the flat wooden surface of what Katsuki could only assume was the bar and ended. Fucking Deku.

Do you Regret it? by MadamBlue  ( M | 1,331 | 1/1 )

A rescue mission goes horribly wrong

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore)]

saltwater knives & saltwater lives by writedeku ( T | 1,580 | 1/1 )

Before.

(Before is a time Katsuki doesn't like to think of now. Before was before, now is now, but it does deserve reflection.)

Series Part 2 of the saltwater saga

[Bullying | Physical Abuse]

to know you by Anonymous ( T | 7,645 | 1/1 )

They were the Wonder Duo, the saviors of the innocent, and it took that reminder to get Izuku through yet another sleepless night.

defluo by managician ( T | 1,165 | 1/1 )

defluo: verb. to flow down, waste, disappear. “I probably should have thought about the consequences of selling my soul first.”

[Major Character Death]

Ожоги by Explodocat ( T | 3,356 | 1/1 )

После достижения четырнадцатилетия человек не может прикасаться ни к кому, кроме своего соулмейта, не вызывая ожоги.

I've Loved You Since Forever by BeanPasteMan ( G | 289 | 1/1 )

Katsuki and Izuku went on a mission together and Katsuki died. Izuku never got the chance to tell him how he felt before Katsuki passed away.

[Major Character Death]

Am I Ready? by Ryxmas ( G | 6,226 | 1/1 )

Even after one and a half years after his disappearance, Izuku never really stopped thinking about Katsuki. After all, Katsuki always had a habit of barging into your life, even if you never expected it.

Don't Phunk With My Heart by yamarik ( T | 7,972 | 1/1 )

Deku wakes up with a hangover in the worst possible place. Now he’s in fear for his life. Meanwhile, Kacchan just wants to return Deku’s train pass...

heaven in hiding by halcyonwhispers ( T | 8,827 | 1/1 )

After years of without contact, Izuku's suddenly thrown into playing seven minutes in heaven with Kacchan at a dumb house party he didn't even wanna go to.

He didn’t expect how things turned out.

Endless by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine) ( T | 3,582 | 1/1 )

It’s been six months since the pro hero Ground Zero’s last stand, and Izuku was determined to make things right.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death]

One More Time, One More Chance by limesicle ( T | 3,256 | 1/1 )

Katsuki knows he’s made mistakes–some worse than others–but none as bad as letting Izuku walk into that fight alone.

Series Part 2 of Spring BakuDeku Week 2018

let our proud fossils prove who we were by shousanki ( T | 2,622 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does not die. He does not kind-of propose to Izuku while in the throes of near-death delirium either. And they are not talking.

Series Part 2 of 青春ノンストップ ーSpring Bakudeku Week 2018ー

Lie by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine) ( T | 1,883 | 1/1 )

The timer on their wrists, written with black numbers were different for everyone, constantly counting back the seconds. Everyone knew that the moment you first touch your soulmate, the timer on both of your arms will reach zero.

The timers on the arms of Izuku and Katsuki kept counting backwards.

Lost, but lost together by Tsulivy ( T | 1,660 | 1/1 )

"Kacchan... It's too late... It's already spreading, I can feel that I'm losing my last grip on whatever's left of my sanity," Deku said weakly to Katsuki, who was holding him in his arms, silently shaking trying to comfort the other. "you need to leave... Before I go after you, I don't want you to be lost, too."

"Shut the hell up," Katsuki said out of breath because of an upcoming panic attack. "I'm thinking, let me fucking think for one goddamn second, we'll figure it out."

"Kacchan..."

[Major Character Death]

Meeting Again by Dana91 ( G | 1,141 | 1/1 )

Bakugo never thought he would see him again. Not there. Not at the Hero License Exam. But most of all, what the hell was quirkless Deku doing with Shiketsu uniform?

Series Part 1 of Shiketsu AU

The Me you don't know by Dana91 ( T | 1,391 | 1/1 )

Sequel to "Meeting Again", same AU.

Just a really emotionally constipated Bakugo and a new "Deku" he is not familiar with. Someone should switch off those emotions for him anyway.

Series Part 2 of Shiketsu AU

Love That's Left Behind by ploThief ( T | 1,439 | 1/1 )

The trio flinch when they hear the tale-tell guttural moan of hungry zombies. Two new zombies have heard the commotion. One looks savage, face twisted forever in an angry scowl. The other is plainer, moving with a slight limp. The two are bloodied and dirty, but in much better condition than most zombies they cross. Newly turned, Ochaco’s mind supplies. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

[Major Character Death]

Into the Night by MadamBlue ( M | 1,721 | 1/1 )

He takes a step.

The world doesn't need me.

Another step.

I'm useless.

He braces himself on the low wall.

I can't control my quirk.

In one swift movement, he scales the wall and stands tall, looking out into the night one last time. In a strange way, he felt at peace. The day was already cold and calm, just how he wanted to feel.

I can't protect anyone.

Izuku takes one final breath and closes his eyes, his foot outstretched to take the final plunge.

[Suicide Attempt]

Being Alive is the Most Comforting Thing We Have by Mrs_AgustD ( M | 1,135 | 1/1 )

“'Suki, please no” The typically violent tempered blond freezes all movement, just like the blood in his veins freeze. 'Suki 'Suki 'Suki The word echoes and bounces around the inside of his skull, and he feels bile rise up his throat and he panics. Only one person calls him 'Suki, but he’s dead, he is so very dead.

[Anxiety Attacks | Mentions of Self-Harm]

#BakuDeku #KatsuDeku #BNHA #bkdkfl masterlist #masterlist #w:os #ws:complete #g:angst #w:mcd #t:s #w:violence #t:bullying #t:panic #w:rape #t:abuse #t:sh #curator ellie

[fyrapartnersearch]

Flower's Search for New Partners

Hey, I'm a 30 year old writer in search of new partners. 

About Me

Posting Schedule: I do my best to respond to my stories once every two to three weeks. There are times when I respond more frequently on weekdays but other times when I post primarily on weekends. It all depends on how busy life becomes. Fair warning, sometimes my writing partners may have to wait longer than a three week period. Being made to feel guilty about not posting is a massive turn-off for me. Spare us both the headache and please search for another partner if you are the type to become anxious while waiting for posts.

On Smut: Smut tends to take me longer since I am very critical of my writing in those types of scenes. Intimate scenes take me twice as long to write for male characters in comparison with females. Again, just being upfront and honest with you. I enjoy smut as an added condiment rather than main dish.

OOC Communication: We do not need to become best friends but I need to feel comfortable with my partners. I need to feel like we can have our characters have a dispute or dislike one another without it leading to misunderstandings between us as writers. 

Types of Writing Partners Desired: Anyone is welcomed here. I want your brain. Your real life gender is irrelevant to me. I prefer partners who write in past tense and third person. First person is perfectly fine in character thoughts. I want to craft a story with another person. Give me your ideas and I will give you mine. We can beat it together into something we both are eager to write. Must be 18+ in regards to your actual age.

Characters I Play: I am perfectly capable of writing either a male or female character. Usually, my female characters tend to be either bi-sexual or heterosexual. Other labels (bi-curious, lesbian, pansexual, etc.) will sometimes make appearances as well. My male characters are more times than not heterosexual but they are capable of being bi-sexual. 

Post Length: I can post a lot or I can post a little. It depends on where we are in the story. While I do value quality over quantity, I despise one-liners.

Malleable Ideas: I thoroughly enjoy collaboration. Typically, none of my ideas are set in stone because I prefer to build a story with my partner rather than dictate all of the terms.

Stories I like:

Diversity: The world is filled with a lot of similarities but there are differences too. I enjoy writing people of color (PoC) within my stories. I look through through those face claims first when searching for character inspiration. I don't mind writing other races either! In fact, I am happy too. However, if you would have an issue with me using a PoC, either as an NPC or main character, I would rather not write with you

Drama: I really, really love drama in my roleplays. A lot of my characters have tragic pasts. My partner would need roll with the punches and maybe even return them because it's boring for me to play submissive characters with no backbone. It's also boring for me to write the perfect couple. I need hellfire dammit! Now, this does not need to happen all of the time. As with all things, too much of something lessens its appeal

Humor: Make me laugh. It is one of the greatest gifts you can give a person and I will like you ten times more for it.

Low (Modern) Fantasy: A good example of this genre, for me, would be the television show, Supernatural. I write these types of stories most because they are so much fun!

Superheroes: I like playing superheroes! I haven't done it in a while but my interest has not waned. I should warn that I don't like playing canons like Storm, Thor, or any of those awesome creations. I don't feel like I can do them justice so I rather just make my original character.

Mythology: Admittedly, I have a bit of a weakness for mythology. While I am most familiar with Greek myths, I am more than happy to explore others. Stories that entice me are mortals falling in love with gods. Recreating a romance between gods such as Hades or Persephone. Or defining the reason why a god might be perceived as something such as why Zeus is seen as a cheater or what not.

Lycanthropy: There’s a special place in my heart for werewolves. Not only do I enjoy reading and watching movies about them but I really love writing them.

Vampires: Same as above. I’ve been reading about vampires forever and I do enjoy a good movie, like the Underworld series. I’m pretty flexible on the lore we borrow from to craft our own versions.

Angels: Love them! They can be sent from heaven on a mission, stolen by some bold demon, or banished for a misdeed.

Demons: Love them!

Westerns: Westerns are a tricky category. As such, it really depends if I’d enjoy writing them or not. I like the idea of rural setting in modern times. I’m not sure if that’s what someone might consider a western. I also really love Westworld. The grittiness of the characters and such. It really just depends with this one.

System Roleplays: I’ve been wanting to try a system game for the longest. It just hasn’t happened yet. If you are looking to write one with me, whether if in a 1v1 or group game, you will need to be patient. I have no experience with it other than a few brief games and watching Critical Role every week.

Historical Settings: Again, like with Westerns, it really depends with this category. Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely adore period pieces. I’m constantly searching for one to watch on Netflix. They’re just so hard and my confidence in writing them is pretty shaky.

Apocalyptic Settings: I don't mind these types of games. I will usually take a peek at group games with this setting but I have never ventured to do a story in a one on one setting. Doesn't mean I am not opened to it though.

Fandoms I Like (Original Characters and sometimes Canon Characters):

Westworld, Sense8, Charmed, Blade Runner 2049, Altered Carbon, The Magicians, Potterverse, Merlin, Penny Dreadful, Critical Role, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, Downton Abbey, The Dragon Prince, My Hero Academia, Mirai Nikki, Akama Ga Kill, Sword Art Online, Elfen Lied and loads more! 

Here are some examples of story ideas I've come up with in the past. These are all modern mythology retellings.

Eye of The Storm

Story : Your character has always been troubled, the type who skipped school on the daily basis and stole lipstick from stores, even though there was not a need. People, who have the misfortune of knowing her, view her as being another ungrateful brat, destined to end up in some expensive rehab center or overdosed in a darken corner of the club. They were correct. She turned out to be a blemish upon the face of the world and her parents’ constant shame. No one understands it as there is no visible explanation for it. Either way, somehow, she ends up at the chaotic shores in the middle of the storm, garbed in her vomit stained clothes and deadly intent. She walks out into the water, seeking to end her life, and finds herself rescued by the most unlikely of sources.  Setting : A college town a few hours out from the city. The only qualifier I have in regards to setting is that it must take place near the seas.  Keywords : Romance, Substance Abuse, Suicide, Modern Fantasy, Mythology(Poseidon)  Seeking : Your character, of course, is our troubled young woman, who desperately needs to be guided away from what has been destroying her from within for years. I have a loose idea that something escaped the mysterious and dangerous depths of the ocean and has taken up residence within her body for years, potentially poisoning her beyond redemption. Maybe she discovered a necklace as a kid or something? We can discuss this together.  Kinks : Due to lack of a better word or descriptor, this might be considered a Dominant/submissive type of roleplay with Poseidon (Ishmael) assuming the dominant role. The God has possessed a lifelong obsession with water so there would obviously be a few scenes within that type of environment. Water is open to change though so he would be willing to permit whomever he’s with to lead every once in a while. 

Waste Not, Want Not

Story : Apollo has often been regarded as being a fairly lighthearted god, one who brings constant sunshine and inspires brilliance into whomever surrounds him, much like the sun which is essential for the creation of life. However, with the disappearance of his wild but truly believed twin sister, his gentle countenance has become resigned and withdrawn from the world. Unfortunately, his grief is not one to be experienced alone. Without the presence of its sun prince, the world becomes dark in consequence, not just in temperature but also in creativity .Where people experimented to create a new, they have become content with their ignorance and current circumstances. Apollo finds inspiration though in the most unlikely of places; however, what price is he willing to play to regain his muse? Setting : This can take place in a modern (rural or urban) or historical setting.  Keywords : Romance, Modern or Historical, Mythology (Apollo),  Betrayal, Punishment, Teasing, Exploration  Seeking : This is a fairly loose idea. I am basically seeking someone  who is capable to break a God’s muse block. 

To Kiss A Spy

Story : Marriage is not to be broken. Zeus has sworn himself anew to his wife, Hera, determined to take his vows seriously and be loyal to her until the end of their days. Faithfully, he ignores the temptations of the flesh, no matter how succulent, from both human and goddess alike. His temper suffers as a result but those around him have learned to adjust to their new leader’s temperament. In other words, he is given a wide berth. All that matters is that his Hera is content, basking in being the sole owner of his affections.  At least, he believes she is. In truth, the Queen of the Gods does not believe her husband is capable of the barest hint of monogamy. She is certain that he is still cheating on her even though her evidence suggests he speaks truthfully about his change of heart. Determined to prove herself right, she acquires some temptation, one which her husband would not be able to resist.  Setting : This can take place in a modern (rural or urban) or historical setting.  Keywords : Romance, Historical or Modern, Mythology (Zeus),  Betrayal, Punishment, Teasing, Cheating Seeking : Whomever Hera has bribed, hired, or threatened to do this piece of dirty work for her.

Contact: Please contact me at [email protected] if you're interested in writing with me. 

#multiple paragraph #long term #marvel rp #harry potter rp #submission

[tragically-broken]

Honey Bee

Ship: Eriel Word Count: 1,291 Type: Photo Inspiration/One-Shot

(picture is NOT MINE- belongs to @desflorecia) 

Hey Eriel lovers!!! I recently decided to do a collection of different pieces of writing inspired by multiple photographs (aka “Photo Inspiration”). Some of these pieces may be full fics, one shots, or even just a few sentences. These writings will include a variety pairings, and will vary in length. None of these photos are mine and credit will always be given to the source. If you have any questions feel free to ask! 

Liked my idea: @photofeesh @dr-woodsprite

Enjoy!

Azriel glided through the gaping open window of his town house kitchen, landing swiftly on his tired feet.

Something was wrong.

Resting the sac of seeds he bought for Elain against the sugar jar, he made his way past the oven and into the hall.

He'd been flying high in the cloudless sky when he spotted a fresh market on his way home from the most brutal fight he’s had in centuries.

But he couldn't think about that right now.

Making his way down the wooden hallway and into the living room he found her.

Lying face down on the couch weeping.

He rushed to her side.

"Elain-"

"Elain, can you hear me honey?"

She only cried harder.

He was out of his element.

Caring for her while she was in a dazed state was one thing, but she was on the brink of hysteria.

He didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of.

Sitting crisscross on the floor, tucking his wings in tight, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders he sat there.

Her shoulders shook violently as he brushed her hair behind her ears.

"Everything's going to be okay, I'm here."

He murmured

"I f-felt it."

Her words came out so suddenly he was taken back.

"What did you feel?"

"Everything...while you were g-gone I felt everything th-that might've happen-ed to you."

Tears poured down her face as she stuttered trying to explain.

He wove his fingers through her hair as she continued.

"I saw you-"

A sob choked out of her with such ferocity that she began to hyperventilate.

"Elain breath."

"C-c-can't"

"In the nose, out the mouth. Do it with me."

His deep eyes locked on hers as they breathed in and out together.

Only when she was back under control did she speak.

"I saw you die."

Her eyes bore into his as if she could keep him tethered to this world by pure will. Her confidence was short lived as she buried her face in the cloth sofa cushion.

He wrapped his arms around her once more.

"It was only a vision honey, I'm fine."

"I know *sniff*, but it could've been *sniff* r-real"

Her voice came out muffled and breathy.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"There's no one on this earth that could ever take me away from you Elain."

She slowly glanced up, face red from being smashed into the cushions.

"Promise?"

There was so much hope radiating off her face his heart cracked.

"Yes, I promise honey bee."

She wrapped her arms around his broad chiseled back, resting her delicate face, still warm with tears, in the crook of his neck.

"I love you Azriel."

Her soft voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned back so he could gaze into her bright eyes, cupping her soft cheeks in his scared hands.

He was in shock.

How could this gracious, strong, kindhearted creature love someone like him?

"Stop that."

"I-"

"Whatever you're thinking is a lie you've been told for far too long."

She brushed the hairs that had escaped his loose bun off his brow.

"I love you Azriel, and there's nothing in this world that could change that."

Tears stung his eyes.

When was the last time he cried?

The feeling was unsettling.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He kissed her then.

Slowly and without question.

Her heated cheeks were like soft rose petals against his scruffy face. She leaned into his warmth as their tongues collided, and her small hands laced themselves through his thick hair.

"I love you too Elain."

He hadn't noticed the tears making there way down his scared face, until Elain brushed them away.

“I know the idea of being happy may seem impossible. Between your memories of the past and my visions of the future, life seems pretty bleak.”

She traced the edges of his face as she spoke.

Around his full lips, slightly red from their kissing.

The edges of his eyebrows, thick and wild in their own way.

The strong bridge of his sculpted nose.

She continued.

“All I know is that when I’m with you it’s easier to breathe. You bring a sense of solidarity to my life I never thought possible. And I’d really like if we could figure out this “life” thing together. Because I don’t know if I’d make it without you, and I have no intention of trying.”

His strong hand stroked her back up and down in a smooth motions until finally, he spoke.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to figure out this thing called life together.”

Elain gripped his face wearing the hugest smile he had ever seen her wear.

And just like that she was laughing.

Actually laughing, as he picked her up bridal style and escorted her to the kitchen.

Elain had no idea where he was taking her as she kissed his neck, and she didn’t care. Anywhere he went she would follow. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

He sat her down on the counter top peppering her flushed face with kisses.

“I brought you something”

He dropped the sac he’d placed in the kitchen earlier in Elain’s lap as she squealed with delight!

She swiftly opened the sac.

“I can’t believe you remembered…”

She stared at him in awe

“Of course I remembered.”

One night many weeks ago Elain had a nightmare. Nightmares weren’t a rarity for either of them to have, but this one was different. There were no sobs, no screams, no deep breathes. Only shaking and vomiting. He couldn’t break through to her all night.

It wasn’t until the sun rose that she was able to speak again when he understood.

She had relived her mother’s death over and over and over again.

Unable to wake up.

Even when she woke up, she didn’t think she was actually awake.

Vomiting and waiting and hoping that if she didn’t interact with her “dreams” they would stop.

Growing up Nesta always clung to her father and Feyre beat to the sound of her own drum, which left Elain to her mother.

Her mother taught her how to tend to the garden.

Lilacs were her mother’s favorite.

Her grave site was the last place she’d ever seen lilacs in bloom.

“Thank you.”

Those two words seemed too weak for the emotions she felt, but she said them anyway.

“You’re welcome, honey bee”

He leaned in close to graze his nose against hers.

She laced her hand behind his neck.

“EW!”

“What???”

He leaned back in surprise, wearing a face that made Elain giggle.

“There’s dirt behind your neck!”

“Well, I’m sorry my “fight to the death appointment” today didn’t result in a more cleanly manor.”

“Well this simply won’t do……you must bathe immediately.”

“Only if you come with me.”

He smirked

“As you wish.”

He face slacked in shock.

They had never gone farther than heated kisses, and innocent bed sharing.

“Well if that’s how you’re going to act I might as well-“

His lips crashed against hers and he lifted her off the counter top wrapping her thighs around his waist.

“Much better.”

She mused as she lifted her shirt up and over her head.

Azriel’s eyes bulged out of his head.

Her perky breasts filled the plain white bra with lace trimming she wore.

“What is it?”

“You’re just….”

Blushing profusely she turned away.

He gently turned her chin back toward him.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He meant every. single. word.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Azriel didn’t waist another second, digging his fingers into her thick thighs, escorting them to the bathroom where they made love for the first time.

This is my first time writing anything Eriel so pleeeeeease let me know if there was something you loved/or didn’t like about the character dynamic (but obviously be gentle b/c lets face it i’m pretty sure all writers are sensitive???) Feel free to send asks/private messages I don’t bite <3 

#photo inspiration #eriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #sjm #azriel x elain #eriel fanfiction #why am I posting this at 3am???? #I'll sleep when I'm dead i guess....

[izzy-b-hands]

Stoned Age

Written for my DL server Bingo Card prompt: Stone Age

This one...was a challenge. But, I finally got something for it, and at the prompting of folks on the server, decided to run with it!

As you may have guessed by the title, there are mentions of recreational drug use, and a very stoned fan features as an original character in this. Tw for that, if that isn’t your scene. Also a tw for vomit, as there is a moment of that in this fic. 

Anyway, to give a brief synopsis: very stoned fan, all alone, and no way to get himself home. Queen lads to the rescue, because of course they aren’t going to let him flounder about on his own. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The early shows weren’t exactly...lesser. That was the wrong word. 

But notably, there wasn’t anything like the security they would have in later years, and it could lead to interesting moments. 

“I don’t know what he’s on,” Roger sighed miserably, shifting the young man who was leaned into him. “No one around him, the staff here don’t have a clue who he is...” 

“Hey,” Brian said gently to him, brushing aside the young man’s long brown hair to peek at his eyes. “Oh goodness. Those are...well. Like a cat’s pupils.” 

“You guys are so articulate,” the young man mumbled. “That’s so cool.” 

“That’s not the usual sort of compliment we get, but thank you,” Freddie said. “Did you enjoy the show? Rather, do you remember the show, is maybe what I should ask.” 

 “So,” the young man started. “Like, how did you know how to make those instruments? Cause I thought cavemen wouldn’t be that advanced but-you guys are so smart.” 

“Is he insulting us?” John asked with a chuckle. 

“I don’t know,” Roger replied. “Tell me, eh...what’s your name?” 

“Todd,” Todd smiled blissfully. “Do you guys, like...have you evolved to have names?” 

Roger ignored his question, and plowed on with his own. “When and where do you think you are, right now?” 

“Okay,” Todd whispered, quiet enough they all had to lean close to hear him. “So, you can’t tell any dinosaurs or other cavemen, but I’m a time traveler.” 

“Oh Christ,” Brian muttered. 

“And I don’t know how it happened, but I think it’s the cosmic mash of everything I took tonight,” Todd continued. “And it gave me this...this opportunity! It’s amazing!” 

“It sure is something,” Roger gasped, shaking as he tried not to laugh out loud. 

“I know!” Todd crowed loudly, and they all stepped back again as he threw his arms up, and nearly knocked himself over. “And now I’m meeting like, the most talented cavemen ever!” 

“Aw,” Roger chuckled. “You’ve got a future reviewing music if you keep calling us that, you know?” 

“They review music here?” Todd asked. “How?” 

“Oh, we’ll tell you later,” Roger said. “How about we figure out how to get you home?” 

“I’m from the 1970s,” Todd said sadly. “I don’t think I can wait until time comes back around again so I can jump in there again. I think I’ll die before that happens.” 

“I...we don’t know that time...ah,” Brian grumbled in frustration. 

“He isn’t speaking sense, try and ignore the inaccuracies,’ Freddie soothed. “Todd, in the meantime, is there somewhere we could drop you off? Somewhere safe?” 

“Wherever the dinosaurs aren’t,” Todd said seriously, peering out the nearest window. “I’m not afraid of one trying to kill me, I just don’t think I could bear the emotional weight of having to kill one to protect myself, you know?” 

Freddie’s mouth twitched at something near a smile. “I do. Hard to live with, that.” 

Todd nodded. “You guys get it.” 

Roger was still doing his best to hold Todd up, but he had his head tucked into his free arm, shaking like a leaf as he laughed. 

“Let me help,” John said, and joined Roger at Todd’s other side. “Let’s see about finding you a safe place to rest for the night.” 

“Do you remember where you were before you,” Brian sighed and grimaced. “Time traveled?” 

“At a concert,” Todd said. “It was okay.” 

They all fell silent, and Roger was broken out of his giggle fit. 

“Ouch,” John said. “Thanks. Thought we were talented cavemen.” 

“I mean, you did pretty well considering you probably don’t know how to really make instruments,” Todd said. “But you did a really good job, all things considered.” 

“Making it kind of hard to want to help you out, Todd,” Brian said sternly. 

“It’s okay if you guys can’t,” Todd said. “I’m okay.�� 

He detached himself from John and Roger, and took a step forward. 

And promptly face-planted, or would have, had they not all reached out to catch him. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” John said. “But I don’t think you’re okay, mate.” 

Todd nodded. “Getting kind of scary now, actually. You won’t let anything eat me, right?” 

“You’re safe with us,” Freddie reassured him. “Let’s get you into the van, we’ll finish loading up, and then we’ll find a safe place for you, okay?” 

“He is properly fucked up, isn’t he?” Brian asked as they watched John and Roger drag Todd out carefully to the van. 

“He really is,” Freddie winced. “I hope he lives nearby, or has family near here. He can’t be left alone, that’s for sure. Worst case, we’ll keep him at one of ours, or have a sleepover together. We can all keep an eye on him then.” 

---

The van was an interesting, if not too small, location to have Todd in while he was tripping off his ass. 

“So the wheels aren’t made of stone?” he asked John, for the fifteenth time. 

“We’ve been over this; they are not,” John replied tersely. 

“But how though? How do you guys like...have rubber and stuff for wheels?” 

“Please let me tell him,” Roger pleaded to Freddie. “Or John is going to run us off the road purely to take him out.” 

“I don’t know how he’ll take it,” Freddie whispered back. “Wait till we get back to ours, okay?” 

The decision had been made that they would all stay at Freddie and Roger’s flat for the night, taking turns ensuring Todd didn’t manage to die before the morning. Hopefully, by then, he would have come down enough to tell them where he lived so they could take him home. 

“I don’t know how you lads do it,” Todd tutted. “Living in this age. I wish I could take you all with me, if I find a way to make it back to the seventies.” 

“That’s sweet of you,” Freddie said. “Are you feeling alright?” 

Todd was horribly pale, and without knowing what he had taken, and how much, they couldn’t even begin to guess if he could OD on them. 

John had a sixth sense however. He had the van pulled over, and himself outside whipping the side door open to let Todd out, just as Todd vomited. 

“You good?” Roger called out, wincing as Todd’s only reply was retching. 

“Wonder if he was drinking too,” Brian mused. “I hope he wasn’t, but I’m guessing he was.” 

Freddie nodded. “He’s going to be hurting the rest of tonight, I think. Like looking after a toddler...” 

“You’re just afraid he’ll puke in your flat,” Brian scoffed. 

“In fairness to me,” Freddie said, gesturing to Todd out on the sidewalk, his body quaking with each retch. “All signs point to that happening, and I simply don’t look forward to cleaning it up.” 

After another minute of it, Roger and John managed to get Todd back in the van. 

“You’ll be alright,” Roger said softly. 

“I think maybe I’m dying,” Todd mumbled. “My mum’ll be so mad if I die.” 

“I don’t think mad is what she’ll be,” Roger said. “But you aren’t going to die. You’re going to feel horrible, but you aren’t going to die.” 

“I don’t wanna die,” Todd was crying now, pressing his face into Roger’s shoulder. 

“Oh goodness,” Roger sighed, but he held Todd there, and rubbed his back as they made the last few blocks to the flat. 

“I thought you guys would live in a cave,” Todd pondered as they helped him into the flat. 

“Rent is too high on those,” Freddie said. “So we got a flat instead.” 

Todd nodded. “Probably a good idea.” 

He was pliable, letting them each take turns getting him settled. John to take off his shoes, Roger leading him to the couch, Brian making sure he wouldn’t roll off of it (and settling pillows and blankets on the floor just in case anyway), and Freddie retrieving a wet washcloth from the bathroom to clean up the vomit drying on Todd’s face. 

“Might want to take a break from the drugs,” Freddie said gently as he moved Todd’s head so he could sit, and Todd could rest his head in his lap. “For the next concert. No judgement, but I bet you’d like to remember the next one.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Todd grumbled. “Was there alone anyway. Girlfriend wouldn’t go, and all my friends were busy ‘studying’ but that’s not true. They didn’t want to go, but they didn’t want to tell me that.” 

“You don’t know that,” Brian said, settling in the armchair near the couch. “Might have been they were truly busy.” 

“I don’t think they like me much anymore,” Todd muttered. 

“Is it,” Roger suggested softly, dropping himself into Brian’s lap, even as Brian sighed at him. “Perhaps. Because you get a little too shit-faced at concerts?” 

“Man,” Todd said. “The world has gotten so bad. You guys back here, you’ve got shit right.” 

“Todd,” Roger continued. “I hate to tell you this, but you didn’t time travel.” 

“Was kind of afraid that was the case,” Todd sighed. “So...” 

“We’re the band,” Freddie said softly. “That played the concert you were at, and since you were alone and-” 

“Out of your gourd,” John interrupted. 

“Yes,” Freddie said. “We didn’t feel right leaving you to wander outside the venue alone. This is the flat I share with Roger, our drummer.” 

Roger waved. 

“I...think I’m going to die of embarrassment now,” Todd said. “I thought it would be the drugs, but no, the embarrassment is so much stronger, so much worse.” 

“You don’t have to die, of that, or anything,” Freddie said. “Rest for now, and in the morning, we can take you home.” 

---

Blessedly, the night was quiet. Todd didn’t lose his stomach again, and even managed to eat breakfast with them in the morning. 

He lived in a flat with some of his friends, not horribly far away as it turned out, and there was a wonderful satisfaction in watching him head inside, knowing he was back to himself and safe. 

“Think we’ll see him at another concert? John pondered as they watched Todd walk away from their van. 

“No,” Freddie said. “Did you forget? He didn’t think we were that impressive, unless we had the baseline of being cavemen to bear against our playing.” 

“Ah,” John winced. 

“Yeah,” Roger added. “But you know? That’s okay. He’s a good kid regardless. Needs to lay off the drugs, but aside from that. And if he does ever show up at another of our shows, let’s hope he’s sober enough to see sense and realize how good we are.” 

“I’m just glad he didn’t OD on us,” Brian said. “Was honestly petrified we’d wake up and find him dead.” 

“If nothing else,” John said as they piled back into the van. “He’s got to at least give us some compliment as caregivers.” 

“True,” Freddie agreed. “Wonder what he’ll tell his friends?” 

As they drove off, the sounds of an argument drifted from the open windows of the shared flat, including the phrase “Queen did not fucking take care of you all night, you daft bastard!” 

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic