#now people can reblog the one they prefer lol

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Kira: Xenk? Why does my dad call you 'babygirl'? Xenk: Xenk: Perhaps we should stop conversing for a while.

#I made a second one I have no self control #now people can reblog the one they prefer lol #incorrect dnd quotes #xedgin #kira darvis #xenk yendar

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: How are these getting longer lol

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

If you thought the darkness was torturous, the light proves to be worse. You look at your surroundings. It’s eerie. A room curated for one. For you.

The white fluffy stool in front of a matching vanity. A picture of a woman in white sitting in a meadow, flowers all around and a stream flowing through the lush field. A vanity painted with flowers, the night tables matching; the bedspread under you similar woven with pansies. The trim at the top of the wall is pink petals on white and a soft rug under the foot of the bed.

It’s all very cute but deranged. You’d love to have all this and more but you’d rather your apartment. If the price is those three men then you’d rather a gutter. Most importantly, you want your dog.

You can’t even make your demands. The walls can’t give you what you want. You doubt your captors will either but you can try. You can wear them down. You can be nice sure, you prefer that, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be your own brand of evil.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. The noise needles in your ears and you hear the mechanism click. You raise your head to watch the door open and the one with the beard enters. Alan, Arnold? Ugh, you don’t care.

He doesn’t break the threshold. He crosses his arms and stares at you. A ripple in his forehead underlines his thoughts.

“I’m going to bring you out but you have to be good,” he says.

You close your eyes and drop your head. You fill your chest and let out a blasting wail. He grunts and stomps to the bed. He grabs your shoulders, shaking you until you nearly swallow your tongue. You bite the tip as he sits you up and you’re forced to face him.

“No, no more of that. Or you don’t get your first present.”

“I don’t want any of your presents,” you sneer.

“This one, I think you do,” he intones, “I’m asking you to give me a chance. Let me show you that this isn’t just for us. This is about you, honey.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hiss, “why can’t you just let me go?”

He shakes his head, “it’s too late for that.”

“I won’t behave. I swear, I’m going to scream–” you inhale and he quickly covers your mouth, his other hand coming around the back of your skull. 

He hushes you as his blue eyes darken, “honey, I’m being nice right now, so you need to go along with this. If you don’t…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

You furrow your brow. Getting out of this room is one step closer to escape. You can be good. For now.

You let the tension leave your body and soften your expression. He senses it and slowly slides his hand away from your mouth. You flick your lashes, putting on your best pout.

“Okay, Alan, I’ll be good,” you avow.

His brow tweaks and his cheek ticks. His nostrils flare as his chest rise and falls, “it’s Andy.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’m really freaked out,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “that other guy… he hurt me.”

“Which one?” He asks.

“Er… stache guy.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he huffs, “can I untie you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, honey, I’m asking,” he looks you straight in the face, “you’re not going to try anything, right?”

“I can be good,” you squirm, “my wrists hurt.”

“Alright.”

He lays you back and rolls you over. He pulls the tape away from your arms, then your ankles. You think of the trick from the van. You know his weak spot but it’s too soon for that. Timing, it all comes down to the right opportunity.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand and helps you up.

You get to your feet and let him lead you out. His large hand clings to yours as he pulls you after him like a child. As you go into the hall, you examine every inch of the place. He takes you into the front room, a low din that in any other circumstance would be cozy.

It looks like any other living room. A sectional and an armchair, an artificial fireplace set into the wall, a mantel trimmed in tinsel, a rich carpet spread over the dark hardwood, and shelves of books along with a television mounted to the wall. The tree in the corner stands bare over a red velvet skirt.

“We can decorate the tree tonight and see if Santa leaves anything for tomorrow.”

You hold back a scoff, “um, I know Santa isn’t real.”

He chuckles, “it’s a joke.”

“Is this the surprise?” You deflate. Sounds like work to you. Of course, your apartment is too small for a proper tree but you’re less than excited for a pastime you always longed for.

“No, not the only one,” he lets you go as you tug on your hand. “Honey, we did this all for you.”

You turn on him, “I didn’t ask you too.”

“Hey, hey, why are you acting like this? You’re such a sweet girl.”

You swallow tightly and hear beeping again. Then a clamour that includes a scramble, some scraping and the thump of a door against something else. You try to see past Andy as you feel cold air rush in from outside. You want to race past him but he’d be on you in a moment.

You hear a familiar growl before another voice wafts in from the entryway.

“Ah, he bit me. Again!” One man says.

“You think I’m having fun at the ass end?” The other retorts.

“Woah, oh, shit–”

There’s a duller thump and you hear claws and paws on the floor. Your heart leaps and you look around Alan– Andy as you hear the heavy breaths bounding towards you. 

“Ernie!” You squeal as the Saint Bernard lumbers in, furtively searching before he spots you. “Ernie, my boy. Oh, baby boy.”

He nearly knocks over Andy as he barrels into your arms. You hug him around the neck and inhale the scent of his fur. His collar tinkles and let his warmth ease your fear. You were so worried about him, more than even yourself.

“You said it was a puppy,” the bare-faced man snarls as he shakes his hand.

“I didn’t know…” Andy says.

“He is a puppy,” you insist.

“Who let the pussycat out?” The mustachioed creep asks.

Your eyes shoot darts in his direction and his hand shields his pants, almost instinctively. Ernie drags his large rough tongue up your cheek. He was scared too but now you have each other.

“Surprise,” Andy says, “so now, honey, you’re going to be good, right?”

You look at him and chew your lip. His eyes fall to Ernie and you put your arm in front of the dog. He doesn’t need to put his threat into words.

“Shit, I’m bleeding. That thing got shots?” Scarf asks.

“What about the girl? She got me good,” Mustache snickers.

“No, but maybe I should get checked now,” you snip.

“Woa-ho!” Mr. Caterpillar exclaims, “she’s got a mouth.”

“Honey,” Andy warns, “we’re being good, right?”

You huff and nod.

“So, apologise.”

“What?” You burst out, “he–” You stop and look between all three men. You have Ernie but you’re more worried about him getting hurt than knowing he’d hurt them in an instant. Even then, he has his head low, a steady rumble brewing in him.

“That thing needs to calm down,” the naked faced one whines, still cradling his hand.

“He’s confused,” you defend your son, “okay? And I’m sorry, er, dude, I’m sure you don’t have any communicable diseases.”

“The fuck? Disease– Alright,” the man steps forward, “that’s it. First she bites me, then she kicks me in the dick and now–”

“Lloyd,” Andy puts his hand up, “no. We’re all just getting used to each other. You’re not exactly easy to be around yourself.”

“Fuck that, I’m funny,” the fuzzy lipped man, Lloyd, argues.

“Everyone just quit,” Andy demands, “alright? Did you get the food?”

“Food?” The bare-faced man shrugs out of his jacket, “what food?”

“For the dog? I told you–” Andy begins.

“Ah, shit, knew we forgot something,” Lloyd chuckles, “he’ll be fine. He can eat chicken, can’t he?”

“He has a sensitive tummy,” you say.

“Jesus,” the third man grumbles as he hangs his scarf over his coat. “I’m not going back. It’s late.”

“Can he have rice? Carrots?” Andy suggests.

“I guess, I don’t know if he’ll eat 'em,” you look at Ernie as his deep brown eyes meet yours. You pet his head to keep him calm. He doesn’t like these men any more than you do.

“Fine,” Andy huffs, “go get the decorations,” he orders the others.

“Why don’t you get the decorations?” Lloyd sneers.

“She needs to change,” Andy explains.

“Like we can’t help her,” the other man challenges.

“I don’t often agree with him, but he’s right. We’ll get her changed.”

You grimace as your eyes ping pong at the back and forth of their conversation. This isn’t good. You don’t enjoy being talked about like you’re not there.

“How about I get myself changed?” You offer.

The men turn to you. None of them seem impressed. A sudden peel of thunder fills the room and you look at Ernie. His bark echoes in your ears.

“Shut that thing up,” Lloyd snaps.

“He’s quiet,” you say, “he was just saying the same about you.”

“Really?” He goes to take another step forward and the other man stops him, “Ransom, let me go.”

“I’ll take her, you two go get the decorations,” he says.

Andy frames his hips and sighs, “fine. We all know the plan. Let’s stick to it.”

You want to raise your hand and clarify that you do not, in fact, know the plan but you suspect you’re not a part of the collective. You keep your hand on Ernie and gulp. He nuzzles your hip.

You bend and pet behind his ear, “it’s okay.” It’s not. You move to face him, “sit,” you raise your voice, “stay. I’ll be right back.”

As you stand, the dog obeys. He’s a gentle giant, at least with you. You pat his head and turn away. The men watch you.

“That thing listens?” The one they called Ransom asks.

“He can.”

“Come on,” he beckons you with two fingers, a smirk ghosting on his lips.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd mutters as Andy approaches him.

“We can keep talking all night,” Andy pats his shoulder, “or get things moving.”

“Whatever,” the man smooths his mustache.

You reluctantly move towards the third man, the one with no personality grown out on his lip or jaw. A baby face if you ever saw one. The way he leers makes you uncomfortable. He smells like Armani.

“Not smiling now, are you?” He says under his breath as he ushers you down the hall.

He points you into that same bedroom. You stop just inside and he shoulders past you with a grumble. You watch him go to the wardrobe and open it. You look between him and the door. You could make it.

You wait a few seconds as he pushes hangers over the bar. You take a step. He doesn’t notice. Another and he’s bitching about colours. You didn’t think men were that picky. You get right in the frame of the door and back out. He looks around the open wardrobe.

“Bye,” you wave and pull the door shut.

You know he’s probably swearing at you but you can’t hear him. You hold onto the handle and hit the little lock icon in the corner of the keypad. The deadbolt rolls into place.

This is it. You edge out to the living room. You don’t see anybody. Ernie sits where you left him, sniffing the air. He sees you and perks up. You wave him over and he lifts his rump, taking careful steps across the room.

You grab his collar and take him with you to the front door. You twist the handle, it doesn’t budge. You flip the lock over it, still nothing. You don’t know what to do. What the hell?

You search around you. The windows are barred, you can’t get out that way. There’s a small box right beside the door. You flip it open to reveal another keypad. Fuck.

“And where are we going, pussy cat?” The question nips your ears as a plastic ornament pings off the wall beside you. You spin and face the mustachioed menace. 

“You know, I just need some fresh air.”

Ernie growls and puts himself between you and the man, keeping the distance with his body. He prowls around, snout low as he paces back and forth. Lloyd steps closer and the dog mirrors him.

“Call that thing off,” he demands.

“Why would I do that?” You challenge.

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I made him stop,” he opens and closes his fist.

“You wouldn’t hurt a puppy–”

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he tilts his head.

“Ernie,” you call the dog, “quiet. Sit.”

The dog lets out a wispy boof but listens. He flops his butt down and glares at the man. You put your hands up and step forward.

“You’re mean. How can you threaten an innocent dog?”

“He drooled on my Jimmy Choo’s,” he says, “come on,” he grabs you by the back of the neck, “let’s go get the dumbass out.”

Ernie barks as you whimper. You flutter your hand at him as Lloyd’s fingertips pinch into your tendons, “Ern, it’s okay, I’m okay. Stay.”

He must hear the panic. He remains, restlessly shifting his front paws. You march beside the man back to the hallway. You reach to touch his arm and he only squeezes harder.

“Shouldn’t blame you for trying,” he says, “but I will.”

#andy barber #lloyd hansen #ransom drysdale #dark andy barber #dark lloyd hansen #dark ransom drysdale #dark!andy barber #dark!ransom drysdale #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #knives out #defending jacob #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #series #multifandom

[jade-len]

i adore how mxtx sorta flipped the idea on the whole top/bottom thing with svsss, and just BL relationships in general.

making bingqiu very open to switching, not making the "bottom" super feminine and actually leaning more to the handsome side compared to the "top", how luo binghe is manipulative sensitive and cries easily, etc. one of the main themes in svsss is literally about sexuality (and possibly even about gender roles).

as a queer asian man myself, i absolutely despise the "yaoi archetype" and it was one of the reasons why i avoided consuming BL media. hell, years ago when i first saw heavens official blessing, i mentally groaned and went, "ugh, let me guess, the bottom is super feminine and innocent, while the top is masculine and experienced." of course, that's not the case now, but it's disappointing how that thought was there purely because of the god awful way fetish-y media portrays homosexual people and couples. because, believe it or not, we are not assigned male/female typical gender roles just because one likes to top/bottom (and even then, it's not even like that! some people have preferences, sure, but it's not so strictly "i'm top/bottom")

so, while i absolutely LOVE the english novel designs (especially luo binghe's cute curly hair, gongyi xiao, etc, and personally believe a lot of the takes from the western artist on the designs are an improvement), i am greatly saddened by people subconsciously assigning shen qingqiu as someone more delicate and feminine and luo binghe as someone super masculine and muscly. like, if you're going to have luo binghe depicted as the western design (i believe this stems from binghe being applied to more western ideals for men, and, admittedly, i actually really love his design), at least don't make shen qingqiu feminine and delicate? don't have his appearance play into the stupid yaoi thing?

i get that people have different takes on svsss, especially how the western version depicts it. but, people just... seem to very over exaggerate the top/bottom roles when it comes to bingqiu (again, these two are, canonically, VERY open to switching).

it's weird, it's uncomfortable, and it comes across as, "so, who wears the pants in the relationship?"

so, can we please have more canonically handsome shen qingqiu? canonically beautiful and pretty boy luo binghe (they literallly state that binghe looks EXACTLY like his mom, su xiyan! while a more handsome woman, is still very beautiful!! plus it is stated several times that binghe is slim, and that shang qinghua made him that way!) or at the very least, a BL couple who actually look like normal people (ok thats a little hard considering binghe is literally supposed to be perfect) and not just a stupid fetishized version of themselves.

and no, i'm not saying that queer men shouldn't be feminine or men who are feminine shouldn't be in a relationship with guys who are masculine, etc.

TLDR: please stop twinkifying shen qingqiu and going against what mxtx defied for us queer men (the stupid yaoi roles). and for the love of whoever you believe in, do NOT think that i hate the english design or people's personal interpretation of characters, i just hate the subconscious assigning of gender roles to bingqiu and how media portrays and fetishizes LGBTQ+ relationships in general.

edit: also i love teardrew's (check them out on twitter!) interpretation of shang qinghua. while i do really like the the eng novel design's tiny scared hamster vibes, teardrew's version just radiates "up to no good, paranoid but suspicious looking bitch" rat man and i love it so so so much. i'm not gonna repost their art bc i don't know how they feel about that but perhaps you can search up "svsss designs" on here, you'll see it pop up eventually lol.

edit 2 (1/16): i just saw someone reblog a post (that im pretty sure was referring to this one because, well, if you saw it i think it'd be a little clear kahxj) that was about how bingqiu switching and completely eschewing traditional top/bottom dynamics was a fandom idea or smth? so now i'm wondering, since i swear i remember that they were open to switching, but it's just that sqq preferred to bottom and/or was just a little too lazy to top. plus, sqq is a pretty unreliable narrator who says he doesn't want something one moment and then he does. how could he say no to bingbing? esp if he seems to wanna try bottoming too. perhaps i'm mixing things up though, idk? so if anyone can find that passage that says he only and strictly wants to bottom or whatever please show me! but i think the point of this post still stands haha (i wanted to ask about it, actually, but when i clicked on the og post's user it turned out that they blocked me ? so that was a little surprising oops. hey if ur somehow reading this, im... sorry for making you want to block me bc of this post? akdhxjj)

#JOIN THE 'STOP TWINKIFYING SQQ' GROUP #did i make sense? i have no clue i just wanted to rant about this #i really pulled a cucumber bro there huh #this also applies to GL #thinking about it more #there should be trans men and women bl and gl #and not in a fetishy way #of course luo binghe is still the big strong protag and taller than sqq but come on #i dont believe luo binghe is a twink exactly?? maybe?? but just feminine in a historical chinese male ideals way #for edit 2: #i was just saying how it made me happy that mxtx didn't follow the yaoi archetypes and how i lov her for it <3 #never said bingqiu was never done before and COMPLETELY flipped it over skdhjx #but i do believe that bingqiu did a good job providing variety and such :) #same goes for mxtx's other works as well i love her stuff sm #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #luo bingge #shen yuan #luo bingmei #bingqiu #luo binghe x shen qingqiu #danmei

[vilz]

hello obviously there isn't anything i can really do to control this (unfortunately i deleted a bunch of posts BEFORE turning off reblogs on them) but i would prefer that people did not circulate my posts from this blog any more... i appreciate that people are kind to me about my art, but that is just my request i suppose. this blog is unprivated now, and if you'd like to see what is still up you can look at them here. my ask box is also open but i will not be making any art posts here from now on. here is a little preemptive faq:

why did you leave?

i didn't feel comfortable or happy posting on this blog any more!

do you still make art? do you post it somewhere else?

yes. but i've been pulling away from posting very much online, and the things i'm interested in drawing nowadays are generally more private, so i won't be directing anyone there or anything. i don't consider my new blog to be a continuation of this one.

i know your new blog!

that isn't really that surprising since i didn't honestly put great effort into concealing it or anything. we are probably not friends, so i hold no sway over you, but i would still prefer you did not share it or treat me as if i am still "vilz who posts fnaf art". i'm just a whatever blogger who blogs about whatever things. also to be frank i do not think my new blog has anything that interesting for people who followed for the kind of art i used to post here. this is not an invitation to say "it is interesting!".

we are friends!

if we have not been in direct, mutual conversations i highly doubt that. i'm sorry if that hurts anyone's feelings.

why did you delete all your self ship art?

people seem to enjoy my self ship art a lot, which is very flattering, but i don't want people to be looking at them any more. i realize that they are still rebloggable and are still circulating around, which is nobody's fault but my own, but i would prefer they were not shared any more. i can't really do anything about it and i also don't blame anyone for reblogging those posts since it's obviously not something they would know, but yeah.

i saw your art on pinterest!

i did not and do not consent to my works being put on pinterest. the art from "vilz" has not been uploaded by me to any other website besides tumblr. if someone is posting my art from here on a different platform, they are doing so without permission.

i saw you on magma!

i still join magma boards sometimes lol. it's a fun site.

what about your ocs?

they are still my ocs. sometimes i still draw them. currently, i do not have any plans of posting my oc art online ever again. i would prefer that people did not reblog the oc art i have posted to this blog.

what about your fics?

all of my fics are still up on ao3 anonymously. they are: small mercies obscura floriography baying of lambs scrape bitch, bastard, bullshit almost human a dream, recurring countdown i'm very flattered and happy that people have left kind comments on these. thank you very much for reading the words of an amateur and for sharing an experience with me.

are you going to finish your uncompleted fics?

i would really like to say yes, because i care a great deal about aspects of them, but it's looking pretty unlikely. i lost all my files (and my calmlywriter key !!! always save your emails and receipts, everyone!!!) and also it's hard to feel motivated about them now. i guess i will leave this up in the air just to soothe my own feelings but in reality the answer is Probably Not.

are you going to post new fics?

i might, because i've been in a writing mood lately, but please don't expect anything. if i do, they will be anonymous on ao3. i will not post about them here or on any other blog.

i really liked your posts and blog!

thank you. i'm glad that people could feel that way about the things i made and thought about stuff i care about. irregardless, i would prefer that people did not share my old posts from this blog.

i will do it anyway.

i cannot stop you, so there isn't really any point in pleading. i just thought i'd make a little info post for people who are inquiring. after this, there won't be any "posts" from me. if there are relevant questions or messages i might reply to them or just update this post.

thank you for reading and for enjoying my blog. goodbye !!!

#this has been a missive from ur friend valentine #sincere regards #vilz

[tarotwithdanise]

10 reasons why you should love yourself

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose a pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

1. Just a quick disclaimer : This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! i don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

2. Please ignore any grammatical errors on my reading since english is not my first language, thank you for understanding!

3. Third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore, this pac can contains harsh, hurtful comments about you or the other person that can trigger you if possible, so kindly read at your own risk and take how it’ll resonates.

4. Lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that’s me, lol :3)

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

TIPS JAR DONATION BOX

MASTERLIST PAID READING SERVICES

[ ♡ ] check out my second account @danisetarot.

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits and reading itself goes and belong to yours truly. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider.

Pile one

You don't take bullsh*t from others.

Your opinion is way more matters for you rather than other people opinion of you now.

You are good at dancing.

You are highly connected to divine and spiritual realm.

You have a strong fighting spirit.

Cutting people off for you is like as if you were cutting a paper pad. Too easy.

You've got a brightest smile and pretty hands.

You prefer few friends rather than a bunch of friends who are just fake and plastic. Quality over quantity.

You always want to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You are brutally honest person.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile two

You are good with arts, crafting, sewing, music or painting.

You are unique, feels like a weirdo from everyone else. (aquarius?)

You prefer old fashion rather than to keep up with the trends.

You have a peaceful and positive mindset.

You have a nice thighs.

You are passionate and hardworking about your work.

You always stay focus at your project, seems like you are perfectionist individual.

You are a great listener and advisor, probably someone who is there for everyone. A friend that can rely on with.

You are good at reading and observing people.

You are quite person but d*adly scary.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile three

You love taking care of yourself, you prepare for your daily healthy foods and keep yourself hydrated everytime.

You are good at guiding other's, someone who can be a teacher, tarot reader or a leader itself.

You have a high respect for people especially for your parents.

Many people love you online or in real life.

You are grateful that God give and provide your everyday life. You are thankful that God has given you another chance to live again, to prove and improve yourself.

You love the sound of rain while reading your favorite book.

You like reading newspapers even though through online sites and watching documentaries.

The fears you are fearing before, you can deal with them now.

You are creative human, there's something new up and something incredible happening to your mind 24/7.

You finally learn how to say ‘no’ with those things and someone that you think won't serve you. You rather be hated for who you truly are rather than to be someone else who faked everything.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile four

You are soft-hearted individual.

You have a sexy body.

You have this mindset - it's okay to cry then start to fight again for tomorrow and for your future.

You are determined and doesn't give up easily.

You know how to pampered yourself when you have money.

Even though you doesn't seems see yourself as a good leader atleast you always perceived yourself as great team player.

You know how to handle and organize your own time and things.

You think your ship doesn't yet come to the shore and so, you knew there's a lot of lessons for you to uncover in this lifetime.

You are someone who know themselves well, someone who knew that they have strengths, weakness, positive and negative traits about themselves. In short, you accept your own flaws.

You have a strong faith.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile five

You are lucky and grateful about your life and about yourself.

You are kind to yourself and to others.

You are lovable individual, partner, son/daughter and best friend.

Type of person is not easy to get fooled and scammed.

You know how to discipline yourself about something or someone.

You can deal with your personal issues alone without the help of others. Maybe sometimes when you badly needed it.

You have this quote ‘loving yourself first before loving others’.

You know how to have fun and you know how to joke around with other people. You have a jolly and positive energy.

You have a perfect eyebrows?like even though you don't casually wear brows pencil.

You only have you in this world and you have your family.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile six

You have unpredictable nature, that may lots of people wonder what were you thinking.

You are very secretive and mysterious individual.

You look good in every outfits and styles you wear.

You know how to forgive and forget others. But you don't give chances.

You have a great story and will, to share with people.

You have a beautiful and graceful ; soul, body and mind.

You know how to celebrate your own victory. You are happy in small things.

You are generous individual.

You usually have a good music and artist taste.

You know how to defend yourself in a bad situation.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

© daninixx ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work.

#pick a card #divination #love yourself #spiritual #spirituality #magick #tarot witch #tarotblr #witchblr #tarot pac #pick a pile #tarot #tarotcommunity #cartomancy #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarot online #fortune telling #pick a photo #wicca #pagan #witches

[kafus]

how to transfer your old pokemon to pokemon home before it's too late!!!

the wi-fi services for the nintendo 3DS and WiiU are shutting down in early april 2024, and while it specifically lists pokemon bank and poke transporter as being available post-shutdown, there is no guarantee of how long that may be for. there will likely come a time when these services shut down, and it could be in the relatively near future.

it is also pretty much impossible now to transfer pokemon to the switch's Home service with alternative methods such as PKHeX (popular pokemon save editor for the uninformed) due to the implementation of server-side Home IDs tracking pokemon at all times - the details of that aren't super important for this post, but point is, whenever bank shuts down, unless nintendo makes an offline way to transfer to home, it will be impossible to move pokemon from the old gens to the new, even with alternative/hack-y methods.

i write this guide with the intention of making this process easier for people since transferring pokemon has changed so much over the past two decades that it's a bit of a mess, and in a timely manner to give people time to finish the process. i'll be organizing by generation so feel free to skip to any part of the guide you need. (keep in mind that transferring is permanent, your pokemon cannot go back afterwards!!)

(by the way it would mean a lot to me if you weren't overwhelmingly negative of pokemon in the tags/reblogs. i get that pokemon transferring being an online service sucks but reading that stuff in my notifications constantly is really tiring </3 make ur own post to talk about that)

to walk you through, i'll be transferring this random shiny spinda i hatched in emerald version all the way up to pokemon home. her name is Moss :]

below the cut since this is long as fuck sorry LOL

GEN 1/2 -> 3 (aka RBY/GSC -> RSE/FRLG)

this is impossible! as for the Virtual Console releases of the gen 1/2 games on 3DS, more on that later in the gen 5 -> 6/7 section.

GEN 3 -> 4 (aka RSE/FRLG -> DPPT/HGSS)

what you need:

a copy of RSE or FRLG

a copy of DPPT or HGSS in the same language as the RSE/FRLG copy that has beaten the champion and has access to post-game areas, preferably HGSS because it lets you transfer unlimited times as opposed to DPPT's once-per-24-hours limit (unless you happen to have korean DPPT/HGSS, which is not language locked in terms of transferring)

either an original DS or a DS lite, the old ones with the GBA slot at the bottom

the steps:

#1. you can only transfer 6 pokemon at a time, so get whatever 6 pokemon you want to transfer up together in gen 3. if you're intending to transfer less than 6 pokemon, you'll need to catch some extras since you have to transfer the full 6 every time (i usually just catch a bunch of extra mons on the first route, which is what i've done here with the poochyenas/wurmples)

#2. put the gen 3 game into the GBA slot of the DS, and the gen 4 game into the DS slot. both games should appear on the home menu after turning on the DS.

#3. load the DS game and spam A past the title screen. before loading your save, scroll down. you should see a "MIGRATE FROM (GAME NAME HERE)" option. if you don't, either the GBA game isn't reading properly, or you have not visited Pal Park in your gen 4 game of choice. in HGSS, the Pal Park is located in Fuchsia City, and in DPPT, the Pal Park is located at the end of Route 221 below Sandgem Town.

#4. select the aforementioned migration option and pick the pokemon you want to transfer.

#5. navigate to the Pal Park and complete the Catching Show, where you re-catch your transferred pokemon in the wild. this does not overwrite what pokeballs they were originally caught in! you will need to bring a pokemon with Surf if you have any Pokemon that spawn in the water areas. you can check what location the pokemon you transferred will be in on bulbapedia.

#6. say yes to storing the caught pokemon in your PC boxes and they'll be there!

important things to note:

pokemon with HM moves will be blocked from transfer, so make sure to use the Move Deleter to remove HM moves from any pokemon you're transferring in gen 3 before trying to transfer. in RSE, the Move Deleter is in Lilycove City, and in FRLG they are in Fuchsia City.

gen 3 -> 4 is the only step in the transfer process where held items transfer up as well, meaning that if you attach a valuable item such as a rare candy, master ball, or TM to a transferred pokemon, you can take it off that pokemon and put it in your bag in the gen 4 game.

an aside about colosseum/XD gale of darkness on gamecube:

you can transfer pokemon from colo/XD as well! unfortunately you'll need to have beaten colo/XD, and then you will also need to beat the gen 3 game... in FRLG, you even have to complete the postgame ruby/sapphire quest on the sevii islands to unlock trading with the gamecube games. once you do all that though, you can navigate to the pokemon center basement in Phenac City to trade with your gen 3 GBA title. to do this, you'll need a gamecube or wii with gamecube compatibility, a GBA (or GBA SP), and a GCN -> GBA link cable to connect the two consoles.

GEN 4 -> 5 (aka DPPT/HGSS -> BW/BW2)

what you need:

a copy of DPPT/HGSS

a copy of BW or BW2 in the same language as DPPT/HGSS copy that has beaten the champion (or N in the original BW) and has access to post-game areas.

two DS consoles of any kind (3DS is also fine!)

the steps:

#1. get the pokemon you want to transfer together in your gen 4 game's PC boxes. you can only transfer 6 pokemon at a time. if you have less than 6, catch some extra pokemon, since you need to transfer the full 6 every time. save it and turn off the DS with the gen 4 game.

#2. turn on your gen 5 game and navigate to the Poke Transfer Lab. personally i just fly to Black City/White Forest and head west.

#3. talk to the NPC in the lab to start the transfer process. you will be prompted to turn on your other DS again and open DS Download Play with your gen 4 game inserted. do that and download the Poke Transfer app that comes up.

#4. select the 6 Pokemon you want to transfer when prompted.

#5. play the transfer minigame! just drag the... bow? (lol) on the bottom screen to aim your pokeballs. there's technically a time limit, but it's very generous, and your final score doesn't matter.

#6. say yes to transferring the pokemon once you're done and they'll be placed in your PC boxes!

important things to note:

pokemon with HM moves will be blocked from transfer, so make sure to use the Move Deleter to remove HM moves from any pokemon you're transferring in gen 4 before trying to transfer. in DPPT they're in Canalave City, and in HGSS they're in Blackthorn City.

the level the pokemon was obtained at and the date it was obtained is changed upon transfer to gen 5 - it will have the met date of your DS clock and the met level of the level it was at the time of transfer. if you'd like to preserve a pokemon's met date, make sure to change the DS clock to the proper date.

GEN 5 -> 6/7 (aka BW/BW2 -> 3DS TITLES/BANK)

what you need:

a copy of BW/BW2

a copy of any 3DS pokemon game (XY/ORAS/SUMO/USUM)

a 3DS (or 2DS, i'll just be referring to them all as 3DSes here) with the poke transporter and pokemon bank apps installed. these were free apps that were once downloadable from the 3DS eShop, but the 3DS eShop is no longer available, so if you don't already have them installed you will need to explore alternate methods, AKA hacking your 3DS and injecting them in. that's outside the scope of this guide but you can find more information here on 3ds.hacks.guide. (do not attempt to follow any 3DS hacking guide not on this website, they could be outdated and harm your 3DS!)

a nintendo network ID that your 3DS is logged into (also outside the scope of this guide but if you don't already have one, it will prompt you during the process to make one)

internet connection

the steps:

#1. poke transporter defaults to trying to transfer every pokemon located in Box 1 of your PC, so go into your gen 5 game and put every pokemon you want to transfer into Box 1, and take anything you don't want to transfer out. if you want to transfer more pokemon than you can fit in one box, you'll have to transfer multiple times.

#2. open poke transporter with your gen 5 game inserted into the 3DS' cartridge slot. after pressing A through some menus and selecting the gen 5 game when prompted, it should ask if you want to transfer the pokemon in Box 1, with a preview of the pokemon inside. confirm and let it do its thing. after poke transporter is finished, the pokemon you transferred will be in the special Transport Box in bank.

#3. make sure you either have a 3DS pokemon title downloaded onto your 3DS, or swap out your gen 5 cart for one, it doesn't matter which.

#4. close out of poke transporter and navigate to pokemon bank. at the time of writing this guide, bank is still online and is free for everyone without a subscription - the main menu has an infinite "free trial" period number.

#5. select "use pokemon bank" and pick a 3DS game to connect with when prompted. it doesn't matter which one, but if you're looking to see your pokemon in a gen 6/7 game right now, pick the one you want to move it into. viewing a pokemon in a gen 6/7 game isn't required to move to home later, though!

#6. the Transport Box is located one box to the left of Box 1 - navigate to it and drag your pokemon out into a normal bank box. now you can move them to any gen 6/7 pokemon game you want, or home later!

important things to note:

even though bank connects with both gen 6 and gen 7 games, once you place a pokemon into a gen 7 game (SUMO/USUM), you cannot transfer that pokemon back to a gen 6 game (XY/ORAS), so be careful!

an aside about the VC releases of RBY/GSC:

poke transporter can also be used to transfer pokemon out of the VC releases of RBY/GSC. these pokemon are changed pretty heavily, converting all their old gen data into pokemon's modern data structure. you can find more information about all the changes/conversions made on bulbapedia. these pokemon are considered gen 7 pokemon afterwards, and cannot be moved into XY/ORAS. pokemon with held items also cannot be transferred from VC titles and will fail to transfer.

if you want to transfer pokemon from cartridge RBY/GSC and have a save dumping device, it is possible to inject the cartridge's save file into the VC versions with Checkpoint on a hacked 3DS and then transfer that way. for GSC specifically, you'll need to edit your save slightly to make it compatible with VC GSC's save format. i personally made a converter for that here that you're free to use in-browser.

GEN 6/7 -> GEN 8+ (aka BANK -> HOME)

what you need:

a 3DS (or 2DS, i'll just be referring to them all as 3DSes here) with the pokemon bank app installed. this was a free app that was once downloadable from the 3DS eShop, but the 3DS eShop is no longer available, so if you don't already have it installed you will need to explore alternate methods, AKA hacking your 3DS and injecting it in. that's outside the scope of this guide but you can find more information here on 3ds.hacks.guide. (do not attempt to follow any 3DS hacking guide not on this website, they could be outdated and harm your 3DS!)

a nintendo network ID that your 3DS is logged into (also outside the scope of this guide but if you don't already have one, it will prompt you during the process to make one)

a switch with Pokemon Home installed, which can be downloaded for free from the switch's eShop. a nintendo switch online subscription is not required.

unfortunately, you WILL need a subscription to home's premium plan to do bank -> home transfers.

internet connection

the steps:

#1. open pokemon bank and make sure all the pokemon you want to transfer are in their own boxes, and any you don't want to transfer are not in the same boxes as the to-be-transferred pokemon.

#2. go back to the bank home menu and select the "move pokemon to pokemon home" option. when you get the notice about the transfer being one-way, you'll need to scroll down to hit "Begin".

#3. you will be prompted to select what boxes of pokemon you'd like to transfer, so pick all the applicable ones.

#4. you will then be prompted to put in the moving key from home, so turn on your switch, open pokemon home, and select the icon that looks like a 3DS on the main menu. when prompted, choose "Ready!" to get the moving key.

#5. input the moving key on the 3DS, submit it, and wait for both apps to do their thing. once bank goes back to its title screen, you can turn off the 3DS.

#6. home will go back to its title screen as well, and depending on how many pokemon you moved, you may have to wait a few minutes to get back into the app. once it's done, the next time you open home, it'll prompt you to choose how to organize your transferred pokemon into home. pick whatever you see fit.

#7. congratulations, your pokemon are safe in home!!

important things to note:

unlike all pokemon games before the switch, pokemon can actually go backwards in generation on switch, so don't worry about transferring a pokemon into scarlet/violet locking you out of moving it to sword/shield, for example. (the exception to this is LGPE - nothing can be moved into LGPE and once a pokemon is moved out of LGPE, it can't go back.)

pokemon home actually has decent hack checks, so be careful when transferring hacked/glitched/otherwise illegitimate pokemon around.

pokemon from a gen 3/4 game will have their met location set to "Poke Shifter" - this is an alternative translation of the japanese name for the Poke Transporter.

pokemon on switch can only transfer into games that contain that pokemon in its dex, so not everything transferred can go into scarlet/violet, for example.

and that's it!!

there's a lot of other quirks to the pokemon transferring process at pretty much all steps, so if you run into an unusual issue or have specific questions about how pokemon data is changed in minute ways across the franchise, i would encourage you to do your own research, all of this stuff is pretty heavily documented by the fanbase. this is just meant to be a guide for casual users, and a quick reference.

this guide of course does not cover options for transferring in alternative ways, but it's worth mentioning that if you have a hacked 3DS and the ability to back up save files at any point from gens 3 -> 5, you can use PKHeX to transfer pokemon into the 3DS titles, then move them to bank and transfer to home normally from there. that's outside the scope of this guide and i'd also encourage you to do your own research for that.

happy transferring!

#pokemon #pokemon bank #pokemon home #long post #nintendo #of course it really sucks that we have to do this at all #ive been opposed to bank/home being online services since p much day one #but that's just how the cookie crumbles i guess #Sighhhh i have so much stuff to transfer myself lol #kiki was here #kiki.txt

[pluckyredhead]

Can you please say more about the Lanterns' politics?

I am so glad you asked me about this because I've been thinking about it since I reblogged that post but also I'm definitely about to get yelled at lol. ANYWAY THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG.

Tl;dr: John is the only one with a coherent political position or an up-to-date voter registration.

Hal:

So something interesting about Hal is that his stories are often very political but his character is not. With one extremely obvious exception, he rarely talks about politics; rather, he serves as a means through which to tell political stories, usually unintentionally.

What do I mean by that? Well, for example, in the Silver Age, his love interest would occasionally be possessed by a misandrist space jewel that would force her to attack him, but always lose because women are inherently inferior to men and prefer to be subjugated by them anyway. That's the original Star Sapphire concept. It's wildly misogynistic, but it doesn't mean Hal the character is misogynistic. But it's also a very political story, even if I don't think the writer was deliberately trying to make a point so much as...being an average, thoughtlessly sexist guy living in the 60s. (Carol continues to be the subject of mindbogglingly sexist writing and art well into the 2000s. Fucking comics.)

And so you have Hal Jordan, whose love life was ruined by his girlfriend getting promoted above him and who called his best friend by a racist nickname for decades; Hal Jordan, poster boy for chest-thumping post-9/11 kneejerk patriotism; Hal Jordan, lightning rod for a certain kind of regressive bigoted fanboyism. Choosing Hal as the Lantern for a particular story over John or Kyle has come to signify something very specific, but none of that is necessarily reflective of what Hal himself believes.

So what about Hal himself? Well, when we first meet him, he's the epitome of privilege: a white, straight, cis, Christian (I know he's canonically half-Jewish now but that's only as of the past decade or so), ablebodied, upper middle class (Geoff Johns retconned him to have a working class background, but in the Silver Age, he had one uncle who was a millionaire, another who was a judge, and a successful politician brother) man with a flashy job. Privilege tends to lean Republican; even if he is from California, I suspect Hal voted for Eisenhower in 1956.

In GL/GA, the word "Republican" isn't used to my recollection, but Hal is definitely presented as...I'm going to say conservative by I mean lower-case C. He doesn't have deeply held political beliefs, but he's traditional. He doesn't question the system, because he's never had to. He resists things that challenge the way he's always understood the world works, and that's very relatable - most people do! And he will absolutely argue with Ollie, who certainly isn't always right about everything. But he's also willing to listen, and have his mind changed, and certainly reachable via appeals to compassion and fairness.

Once the "relevance" trend of the late 60s-early 70s was over, Hal's stories default back to ostensibly politically neutral, although obviously nothing is actually politically neutral. In the late 80s and early 90s he's the most unpleasant version of himself, and that has political manifestations, like when he allows John to be imprisoned in apartheid South Africa for a ridiculous and unnecessary crime Hal himself committed. It's extremely fucked up, but again, it's less because of Hal's actual opinions and more because Christopher Priest wanted to write about apartheid, even if it does make Hal look incredibly, horrifically racist.

Then jump to the mid-2000s and Green Lantern: Rebirth, and you might imagine that losing his hometown, getting possessed by a giant space bug, becoming a supervillain, dying, and becoming the embodiment of God's vengeance might have some effect on Hal's politics, but that is not what Geoff Johns is here to write. Johns is writing a Hal who teleported in from, like, 1967 - no nuance allowed. He's a summer blockbuster that walks like a man. He's a Baja Blast. He's never had a coherent political thought in his life. In his defense, he has had more and goofier concussions than any superhero I can think of and his brain is smooth like an egg. Still.

Anyway, all of this is to say that I think Hal tends to default to center right positions but can be easily coaxed over to center left. That said, he has never not once in his life had his shit together enough to vote in a single election, not even for his own brother.

Guy:

So Guy's deal is a little bit complicated because his most vocally political era was also in part due to severe and personality-altering brain damage.

When Guy was originally introduced in the 1960s, he had the pleasantly bland personality of all superheroes. Many years later, he suffered a series of major injuries, torture, and a lengthy coma, and he emerged from the coma in 1985 with the aggressive, abrasive personality he's best known for today. Justice League International took that even further, using him to parody the jingoistic, red-blooded American action hero of the 80s.

This version of Guy is a vocal fan of Ronald Reagan and despises the USSR. He's pro-war, proudly xenophobic, and treats women badly enough that it crosses the line into repeated sexual harassment, both physical and verbal. (To be fair...ish, this last also applies to Wally West and arguably a number of other men, and was always played for laughs. It was gross all around.)

Again, this is partially a manifestation of his brain damage. There's also a running gag in JLI where if he gets hit on the head, his personality changes to this cloying, timid, gentle one, sort of halfway between a child and a flamboyant gay stereotype. Hit him again and he goes back to Asshole Guy. I'm not going to pretend I don't find some of the gags funny, but it's obviously all highly problematic, and not just from a medical standpoint.

That said, I don't think we can dismiss Guy's politics or his usual personality as simply a manifestation of brain damage. We see in later flashbacks that he developed the abrasiveness as a defense mechanism from growing up in an abusive home, and as he matures through the 90s, he doesn't actually become a significantly different person, even after his Vuldarian healing factor kicks in and heals his brain. (It's a thing.) I think it's more accurate to say that the brain damage probably affected his impulse control, his filter, and arguably even his paranoia levels.

All of which is to say that as much as I would love to go "Guy's better now, so he's not a Republican!"...that dog won't hunt. I think a really good canon writer could make the case that Guy is pro-union-style working class and also a former teacher so he's at least center left, but as of now canon evidence is pretty firmly on the red side. It doesn't help that the GLC has been written as fetishistically pro-cop and pro-military since Johns got his grubby hands all over it. I will happily ignore the New 52 retcon that Guy was a cop, and you could even try to argue that he dislikes cops because his brother was a corrupt cop who became a supervillain, but I think it's much more likely that he identifies with cops as a Corps member. Although I don't think he would have any patience for killer cops. ("You were afraid for your life even though you were the only one with a weapon? Then fucking quit, coward.")

All of that said, I think Guy is similar to Hal: defaults to center right, can be talked into center left on certain issues but he's more stubborn about it. (They would also both be enraged by Jan 6 and disgusted by the current Republican party - I can't quite argue that Guy Gardner is a Democrat but Green Lanterns don't have any patience for traitors or cowards.) It's also kind of a moot point because he never knows what is happening on Earth and hasn't voted since his pre-coma days.

John:

Oh John Stewart, thank god for you.

John was introduced as an explicitly political character in an explicitly political story. The first time we see him, he's stepping in to defend Black men from a white cop, citing his own knowledge of the law to do so. He shows a much more perceptive and informed perspective on the issue's main plot (a racist senator running for president) than Hal does. Even in the little moment above, we see that he's sensitive to exactly what it means for him, a Black man, to be taking on this role.

None of this is a surprise, since we'll later learn that John's parents were civil rights activists. Not only would he not have had the privilege Hal and Guy did to assume his existence was politically neutral, he was explicitly educated about political realities and progressive advocacy from childhood. He's well-informed, he's passionate, and he's going to tell you when you are being fucking stupid.

John isn't immune from the GL cop/military...thing, although I can't blame Johns for that - it was the cartoon that made him a Marine, and the comics followed suit. But that's never outweighed his origin or his upbringing. Like, he's friends with the DCU's fictional version of Nelson Mandela.

This one is straightforward: John is a staunch progressive. He is, however, in outer space 90% of the time, so he's always at least a little bit out of date. I imagine every time he comes back to Earth he spends the first 24 hours watching the news in abject horror.

Kyle:

Kyle doesn't talk about politics a lot, but when he does, he lands pretty much where you'd expect a young California-born artist living in New York City to land: to the left. My read on Kyle is that he hasn't really thought any of his politics through, which makes sense - he's a character who is led by emotion over reason every time. He doesn't have John's carefully thought-through arguments or knowledge of the law behind him. I feel like when something political upsets him, he's more likely to splutter angrily than make a coherent argument (which: same). When he's given the time to think things through and speak from the heart, though, he can be very eloquent, like in his speech to Terry after Terry accidentally comes out to him.

It's also worth pointing out that his solo appearances were mostly in the 90s, which were prone to avoiding politics or only addressing them in a halfhearted both sides-y way like the story above.

That said, I don't think he ever actually does anything about his political opinions. He never votes in midterm or primary elections, and probably only voted in a presidential one because Alex dragged him along one time. I feel like Donna tried to do the same when they were dating and that was when Kyle realized he'd forgotten to change his voter registration from California to New York. Jennie wasn't responsible enough to Mom him into doing his civic duty, and he's been in space pretty much nonstop ever since, so...

Simon:

In that other post, I said Simon's experiences should have radicalized him, but instead he was created by Geoff Johns. Simon is a Muslim, Lebanese-American man who came of age in the post-9/11 era, and was wrongfully convicted of terrorism and waterboarded at Guantanamo Bay. His reaction to this was...to put on a ski mask and wave a gun around. Like, it's been a while since I've read these issues, but aside from the "ripped from the headlines!!!" of it all, I feel like Simon's experiences largely don't inform his actions or perspective except that he's super angry (fair enough).

The thing about Simon (and Jessica) is that he hasn't been around very long, and most comics don't have characters directly expressing political opinions. It's not a coincidence that these characters are in chronological order and each write-up is shorter than the last. I can think of about three times where Kyle has ever said anything I can interpret as political, and he's been around for 30 years. Simon only has a third of that history. So while one could certainly extrapolate what Simon's opinions are likely to be, I can't think of any canon where he actually says them.

Jessica:

Jessica has even less to go on in terms of explicitly political comics. You'd think she wouldn't like guns because of what happened to her friends, but she has one of her own and doesn't seem bothered by Simon's. I'd imagine she has opinions on immigration as someone whose family is from Mexico and Honduras, but it never comes up. If I were writing for DC, I'd make both Simon and Jess leftists, but as for actual canon proof? I got nothing.

I will say that she probably avoids political discussions because anxiety, and I bet she got really good at voting by mail during her years not leaving the house. She probably votes by mail from space. Maybe John's not the only one with an up-to-date voter registration.

Kilowog:

#green lantern #hal jordan #guy gardner #john stewart #kyle rayner #simon baz #jessica cruz #meta

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, Miss Raven! What're your thoughts on the new characters' designs and the new cards we're getting?

[You can see the designs for the Halloween 2023 cards and other related TWST news here!]

I'll post my general thoughts below! I unfortunately don't know enough about Pinocchio myself to point out all the little easter eggs in their outfits, so I'll leave that to those who are more knowledgeable than me.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Regarding the NRC boys' looks overall, I think it's a very fun theme and very fitting for the location of the event. I like that they all still wear masks, just in a different context than in Glorious Masquerade. One thing I did notice is that the masks seem... same-y? Like they all resemble thick tree roots or something like that. So maybe they aren't masks at all, but they're associated with whatever the conflict in the story is. (I previously suggested mind control or the loss of consciousness, so maybe the "roots" play into that???) You can see the marionette theme Yana was going for, as well as some design elements from Black Butler's circus arc, very clearly. The poses for each of the boys, even the R cards, are extremely dynamic and imply a strong sense of movement. The ribbons are such a simple detail that contributes a lot to this sense of whimsy and flow.

Some comments I have on specific designs and poses:

Suspenders are so... Trey 💀 THERE'S REALLY NOTHING ELSE FOR ME TO ADD HERE, THEY JUST SUIT HIM

I like it when Trey makes these kind of slightly sus but plausibly deniable faces... He should make more of them...

I can't see the front of Jack's outfit that well, so I don't know if I can fully comment on it??? But I can see his. Like. Physique... coming through... That chest to waist ratio/j

Seeing Jack's tail like that kinda weirds me out. I think that's the first time we've gotten a "full" view of how the tails look coming out of the pants??? So maybe I'll get more used to it with time...

J WORD MY BELOVED dghgqwktvwukdviu1vdutw1513FR7vuofOTVUofvfaafvfyivs.,bk;mobsdb;ibuafetvuqoffSEythTOTqebivfguovqnafCUtuiUIEtt please ignore my bias 🤡 The way his top hat is angled and how there's a dark blue ribbon around him... It vaguely looks like he's trying to pass as Crowley, LOL

I like how his undershirt is frilled and how he has that sash at his waist it reminds me of the genderbent design for my TWST OC! The fact that both he and Floyd have the eel emblem that resembles a heart is also really cute~

Lilis is my favorite design of the R cards!! There's a very good distribution of ruffles throughout the look, and his knotted skirts fit well with his personal flair.

I'm not a huge fan of the style of hat Cater's wearing (sorry to all the Cay-kun stans out there), but I can appreciate his look. His dress appears more militant than Trey's, and his posing is certainly more aggressive--it's nice to see him in this new light.

FHIBBAILAIBASIADIHBLBUDB EVERY TIME I SEE L*ONA NOW I'M GOING TO THINK OF THE ONE REBLOG I SAW THAT SAID "of course leona has his tits out again" BECAUSE THEY'RE RIGHT, HE'S LITERALLY THE GIRLIE THAT DRESSES SLUTTY ON HALLOWEEN AND SOMEHOW NEVER GETS COLD 😭 You go, king... Live your best life!!

Love L*ona-san’s new hairstyle here!! 👀

The way Floyd is posed reminds me of those people that walk around on stilts. I think I much prefer the coloration on Floyd's outfit than on Jade's, but I prefer Floyd's jacket to Jade's. I think Floyd's the best of the SR designs!

Shockingly, Vil's look doesn't stand out to me that much??? I enjoy his sash, but I don't immediately pick up on anything in his illustration that catches my eye.

His pose resembles that of a ballerina, which just makes me think about the time he assigned Epel and Deuce extra (ballet) dance lessons in book 5 ajdbhasivldsadued

Of the SSRs, Ace is definitely my favorite one. He just looks so dramatic soaking up that spotlight and trying to look cool while doing it... Bro's 100% thinking, "heheheheh, I'm SO awesome :))" in his head.

Ace's design also reminds me a lot of Jack Hearts (from Disney Villain Recruiters). Not sure if it was intentional or not, but I'm definitely super into it!

HHNNNNNGNGHGHHGHGNGNGHHGHGHGHGHHHHH I WANNA BITE HIS HEAD OFF AND BULLY HIM SO BAD, I WANNA WIPE THAT SMIRK OF FHIS DUMB FACEe Am I seriously about to revert back to my Brat Loving era for Trappola... Maybe so...

I was pretty much expecting a SSR Ace (because he's a trickster with a brother that works in an amusement park) and Ortho (literally a robot that became a real boy), but Kalim took me by surprise. In hindsight, I guess it makes sense though...? Kalim has a similar immature vibe as the other two (plus I do remember there being this one scene in Aladdin where the Sultan was dressed like a jester that was being maneuvered on puppet strings).

It's great that Kalim gets to be a little out of his usual element and make darker, more mysterious expressions like what we see in his new illustration. I'm not sure if I entirely agree with how he's dressed (the yellow jacket is WAY too bright), but I love his his coattails (???) trail behind him in waves.

OR-KUN MY SON 😭😭😭 As is the case with all of his gears, I adore how the devs creatively adapted clothing into metal parts for Ortho! The half-caplet is easily the best part of the whole look for me (the pattern on it reminds me of stars falling down)--and because Ortho has a smaller stature, the type of hat he's wearing isn't as offputting; it actually looks very cute on him.

ANYWAY, VERY HAPPY THAT ORTHO GETS TO HAVE A HALLOWEEN SSR TO MATCH HIS BROTHER'S HALLOWEEN SSR FROM LAST YEAR... They match!!!

... Is that the fucking cricket on Ortho’s cape... and the goldfish on Kalim’s scarf… AND THE CAT ON ACE’S WAIST… What does this meeeean 🤡

And now for my thoughts on the two new boys!! Honestly?? I don't actually have much to comment on in this regard because I try to reserve my judgment of characters until I've actually seen them in action. I haven't seen Pinocchio either, so I don't have a strong basis for what their personalities would be like based on their original Disney counterpart. I only vaguely understand that Honest John and Gideon trick children into visiting Pleasure Island... That's it, that's the full extent of my knowledge on that pair. I don't have any other expectations going in other than "yeah, these two are going to swindle me".

Gidel looks like a mix of Cheka and Ruggie to me (because of the hair and the eye shape). He seems like he’ll be the other guy’s goon, similar to how Jade and Floyd/Ruggie follow Azul/Leona. Nothing else for me to add, Gidel seems alright… Just a silly lil’ guy!

I have more… mixed thoughts on Ferro. One one hand, he looks like the exact kind of shady bitch I’d love. (You know, the ones that smile and lie and manipulate and drive a knife into your back and—LOOK, HE’S VERY J WORD CORE) On the other hand, I’m beating back the “you like cat/dog boys” allegations from my friends, so 💀 I can’t give in so easily/j

Looks-wise, Ferro’s iteration of the rat tail hair is not as ugly to me as Malleus’s is. (I think it’s because it looks more windswept!) I also really like how he dresses—very dapper 😌 and he can pull off green eyeshadow well!

I’m wondering how they’ll make Ferro different than the other con artists we’ve seen so far *eyes Octavinelle* but I’m keeping my hopes up since the devs did a good job remixing the “I have a dead brother and I feel immense guilt about it” backstory for Rollo (when Idia had a similar one). Looking forward to that~

I’m sure my thoughts will chance once I actually get to see them in the event! ^^ I’ll keep you posted. For now, I’ll keep cautious. (Actually, this fan art basically summarizes my current feelings on the two! I’m Rollo/j)

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ace Trappola #Floyd Leech #Leona Kingscholar #Ortho Shroud #Kalim Al-Asim #Cater Diamond #Trey Clover #Jade Leech #Tweels #Jack Howl #Lilia Vanrouge #Vil Schoenheit #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #spoilers #question #Ferro Honest #Gidel #Gidell #Pinocchio #Honest John #Gideon #Fellow Honest #Gideru

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | thirteen

🐴Chapter summary: Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you. 🐴Chapter title: Love Letter

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 13.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

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“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong” ‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected. 

He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.

He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core. 

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.

As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?

“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”

He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.

“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.

His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.

As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.

“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.

You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.

As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.

As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.

Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.

The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of perhaps mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.

As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t bear to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.

Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.

His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.

The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.

Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.

“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.

Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”

Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.

“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.

He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.

The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.

“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.

He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.

You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—

“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again. 

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.

“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.

His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.

“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.

“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.

“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.

He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.

Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.

His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?

“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there's a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, perhaps even love. It's a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.

Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.

“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t bear the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.

“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t bear the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.

Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that perhaps he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.

Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.

As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.

“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.

As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.

“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t bear the thought of you leaving.

“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.

“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t bear the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.

One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.

As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.

He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.

You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.

Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.

“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.

“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.

“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.

“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.

“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.

You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.

As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.

He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.

He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”

The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.

“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.

“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.

You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.

He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.

As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.

As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.

He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.

“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.

God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.

He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.

He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t bear to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.

“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Perhaps. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.

He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.

The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.

As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.

“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.

You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.

He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.

Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.

As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.

“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.

Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.

His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.

“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.

“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.

Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.

You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.

You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.

As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.

Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.

In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.

Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.

Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.

As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or perhaps he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.

Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.

“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.

You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.

As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.

He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along? 

The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion. 

You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?

Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t bear the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.

“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”

He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.

“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.

Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.

Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.

Perhaps that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.

He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.

Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; perhaps it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off. 

And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.

Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.

Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.

Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, perhaps even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.

He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.

He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.

He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.

You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.

Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.

Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.

Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.

“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.

Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”

Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.

But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him? 

Fuck.

Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.

He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.

He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.

Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.

He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.

As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.

As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.

Fucking hell.

Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.

He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t bear to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or perhaps lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.

Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.

However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, perhaps far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.

“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.

Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.

Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.

The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.

Fuck.

Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Perhaps you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.

That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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[shadowkoo]

The Taste of Sin

→ Summary: Following his sister's passing, Taehyung faced a daunting battle within himself, one where he eventually succumbed to the enveloping shadows that gripped his soul. Your task is to free him from the clutches of the black magic that now consumes him. The only problem? He doesn't want to be saved.

↠ kth x f.reader | 6.7k words | 18+ ↠ genre: angst, strangers to lovers, smut, black magic au, warlock/witch au

→ Warnings: Read at your own risk! Includes scenes of abduction/kidnapping, minor and major character death & dead bodies, murder, stabbing, knives and other weapons, blood, rituals and witchcraft (duh), slight torture / exorcism-like behavior? idk how else to describe it askldjf;skljdl, illusions to scars, burning skin, unprotected sex, explicit sex, angry sex, fingering, choking, oral (female receiving), teasing, begging, rough kissing, magical fucking? (we’re making that a thing lol), deep dicking, creampie

→ Author note: Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. If you would prefer to bookmark and read it later on AO3, you can find it crossposted here.

Long ago, every instance of magic served a positive purpose. According to the tale, the cosmos gave rise to two mighty entities, Kai and Nyx, after many years of stagnant magic. For magic had been around for centuries by this point, but no one truly had mastered it.

When the culling eliminated many witches and warlocks, the magical line of descendants began to diminish. Kai and Nyx would become the light that the survivors could look to for guidance and protection.

They grew in unison, fostering and educating their apprentices about the complete potential magic can provide and how to harness their talents. Nyx was beloved by the people, and Kai’s gifts were powerful enough to keep them safe from those who dared to harm them.

Over time, Kai's feelings of resentment towards Nyx and his responsibility to safeguard only grew. He yearned to be worshipped. The affection that was once mutual turned into malice, and a sinister shadow wrapped around his soul. It tickled his spine, twisting around through his veins, until he let it take over and embraced the darkness within.

That was the day Black Magic was born.

In the present day, those who are gifted with magical powers are either deemed Sacred or Sinful once they’ve matured. It’s common knowledge that all witches and warlocks are originally born Sacred. Evil isn't born. We know that to be true. It's a learned behavior, created over time. However, the path someone follows in life can change everything.

It's not a matter of what side a witch chooses, but what side chooses them. And unfortunately, it's not as simple as good versus evil, light versus dark, or right versus wrong. 

It boils down to a witch's determination to defend themselves and the length their loved ones will go to in order to resurrect the person they once knew.

But black magic doesn't discriminate. It shows no concern for your family lineage, your economic status, or your future aspirations.

It's patient. 

It bides its time until your vulnerability allows you to embrace even the slightest taste before it creeps into your soul, waiting until you make the choice to devour it completely. 

At that point, you can no longer tell where the darkness ends, and a witch begins. They are now one.

So when the Kim family unexpectedly lost their sweet boy to the Sinful, they knew it would be nearly impossible to get him back.

The only way his soul can be saved is by someone who is accustomed to the taste of black magic helping to remind him of who he truly is.

"This is a photo we took on his eighteenth birthday. That was five years ago. We didn’t know it would be the last photo we would ever take of him..." Mrs. Kim hands you the photo and sniffles, a sign that she’s attempting to keep her composure.

'Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.’ you repeat to yourself. For being upper-class witches, they sure are some of the more sensitive ones. You can tell that they truly care for their estranged son.

Deep down you know that they have all the right reasons to feel this way, but your lack of certain emotions, specifically sympathy, makes it a little difficult for you to feel compassion in moments like this.

Ever since you were rescued from the darkness you've had a hard time understanding emotions and sensitivities. You don’t like either. They make you vulnerable, and vulnerability is dangerous for someone like you.

You are an exception to the rule, neither completely Sacred or Sinful. You’re a part of the Saved; a group of witches that have been brought back from the Sinful. Of course, you can never get rid of the darkness completely. It lingers in your blood, but you’ve learned to control it.

"So do you know what happened that allowed him to let the darkness in? I know that your family is one of the stronger bloodlines, so it couldn’t have been that his powers were limited. And he's not a half-blood either?"

Mr. and Mrs. Kim share a look, debating if they should disclose the reason to you.

"You're right. He was strong up until his sister died. He abandoned his powers and lost interest. We would have to plead for him to do anything remotely related to magic, and even then he put up a fight."

'That would do it. An emotional, grieving warlock that refused to use his powers would be an easy target.'

You rest your hand on Mrs. Kim's in an attempt to console her. "You know this is going to be difficult, right? He's been gone for so long. Are you sure your son is still in there?"

"I know he is. He has to be," she urges, her eyes begging for you to help them.

"Okay..." you say softly, "Were you able to track him? Where was he last?"

"On the east side of the city. We used a spell to pinpoint his exact location, and he was spotted three days ago on camera outside of this mini-mart." Mr. Kim hands you the blurry image. 

"Well, it looks like I’ve got some work to do. I’ll keep you two updated."

Taehyung gazes at the street lamps' reflection on the wet pavement. Unaware of the earlier rain, he stares at the puddles left in the wake of the storm.

His daze breaks as he catches the familiar sound of a woman's heels approaching. He closes his eyes, envisioning the woman within the shadows of his mind.

'She'll work,' he decides, watching her walk quickly in his general direction. Astral Vision is just one of the perks of turning dark. 

He waits until she’s closer, then conceals his body before she can see him lingering in the shadows outside of the bar. The spell took less than a second to manifest, and then he grabs her. One hand over her mouth and the other pushing her towards his car.

The woman is terrified, rightfully so, and Taehyung feeds on her fear. Her pale face, wide eyes, and fast pulse excite him.

He would have preferred to keep her lucid, but she wouldn’t stop screaming. Her high-pitched shrieks still echo in his ears. Thankfully, the sleeping spell he casts knocks her out, making the car ride enjoyable for the most part. 

If only there was a spell that silenced the constant whispering in his ear…

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at his place. This part of the city was known for being the center of the dark arts, so when the woman's body trails behind him in the air, no one questions it because everyone is used to seeing some fucked up shit. Hell, last week someone set a captured spirit loose and kept walking through the walls of the old apartment building.

As they enter the dark lair, Taehyung waves his hand around and his magic carries the woman’s body to the worship room and gently lays her down on the makeshift altar table.

At the snap of his fingers, she wakes and frantically glances around at her new surroundings. A fireplace full of black flames, candlesticks everywhere she looks, pentagons and other unrecognizable sigils painted across the walls, and a mysterious man walking toward her with a devilish smile.

"Blood is old. Blood is powerful. Blood is exactly what the darkness wants." He starts chanting, making his way around her body, circling her.

"No, please!" The woman yells as she struggles against the restraints that suddenly appear from thin air. "Please. I beg you," she cries, "I have a child. She's two. *Please!*" The woman continues to sob as he lifts the knife in the air

"Shut up. This will go by faster if you just shut the hell up."

It wouldn’t matter if she was pleading as if her life depended on it. In this case, it did, but that’s irrelevant. Nor does the look in her eyes when she realizes she was going to die tonight. 

Taehyung doesn’t care. He just wants the whispering to end, and the only way to make that happen is to do what it told him.

So he did.

You listen quietly as Taehyung completes his incantation, completely drawn in by the way he handles his power. The unlit candles that fill his room all ignite when he finishes, signaling that your cover is close to being blown now that you’re no longer hidden from plain sight.

The girl notices your figure and wails out when your eyes manage to lock. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she saw you already, you weren't sure when, or how, you were going to make your presence known. 

That's how easily the darkness can get to you. You didn’t even realize when it had you paralyzed in time. And if a witch isn't aware at all times, they have a higher chance of being taken over.

"Please save me! I see you, help me!" Her shrill voice pierces through the empty room. You duck by a bookshelf and wait to see if he spots you too. 

Taehyung pauses to glance around; he doesn’t sense anyone so he closes his eyes and continues with his plan.

When you step out of the shadows she repeats herself, begging to be let go, begging for you to help her. 

You take another step closer, moving slowly while racking your brain for how you’re going to get her out of here when suddenly the dark flames quit dancing in the fireplace. Every candle in the room turns toward you and the room becomes too quiet.

Someone taps on your shoulder. Startled, you turn your head to find no one there. And when you move to face the woman again, a tall figure stands in your way.

"Who the hell are you?" Taehyung demands, a mere few inches from your position.

If you weren’t slightly concerned about what he was going to do to you next, you probably would have laughed out loud. That blade is pointless. You both know that he can do a lot more damage with his powers now that the darkness is on his side. 

Speaking of which, his other hand twists at his side and you guess he’s trying to inflict pain on you somehow.

You know this must be true when he frowns, clearly confused as to why you aren’t on the floor in crippling agony.

"Oh, yeah. That doesn't work on me babe, clearly not human." You admit rather smugly. His demeanor tenses as you close in on him. "You should really put the knife down. You don't want to accidentally hurt her, do you?"

"That's exactly what I want to do," he hisses, using his magic to send his knife flying through the air and into her chest before you can even process what’s happening. 

The second the blade touches blood, every candle in the room is extinguished.

You somehow manage to hold in your surprised gasp, despite not being ready for that.

This job isn’t for everyone. You’ve witnessed a lot of death in your short time as Saver. If it wasn’t for the good pay and the sense of accomplishment, (not to mention the high probability of making Nyx proud) there was no way in hell you would willingly put yourself in this traumatic position.

That's what you remind yourself of anyway. Especially since it’s hard finding anything else with your label. Damn witch society and their stupid social standings for making everyone believe that a Saved witch is any less of value than a Sacred one.

It’s been a while since your last assignment, and after how badly that one had ended, you’ve been contemplating if it was a mistake to come so soon - just like your coworkers had presumed. 

You brush those thoughts aside and remember why you’re here, to save.

"Did you have to kill her? Was that really necessary?" you prod.

"Yeah, it gets them off my back," he huffs, "What do you want?" He peers at you, trying to figure you out.

One ‘perk’, for lack of a better word, of being one of the Saved is that when a Sinful reads you, they catch onto the lingering darkness and assume you're one of them. It makes it easier for them to trust you, which inherently makes your job easier.

"Need a place to crash for a week or two. I sensed you from outside. Thought it was safe here since we're the same and all that." You had rehearsed this part, knowing you would need a valid excuse to get close to him. And it was normal, the Sinful did usually group together. Everyone is stronger in numbers.

"Does this look like a boarding house to you? Get the fuck out." He turns back to the dead woman's body and catches her blood in a vessel filled with ash and other unrecognizable ingredients.

"What kind of ritual is this?" You ask, ignoring his demand and following him around the room as he throws other components into the blood pool. "Looks very...ancient?" It looks disgusting if you’re being completely honest, but you have to play along. "Need help?"

"Why aren't you leaving?" He questions. "Did I not make myself clear? Get. Out."

"What if we make a deal," you suggest, starting your plan. "I'll clean up your messes and stay out of your way and you let me stay here. I'm a newbie, if you can't tell. So far I'm really enjoying how much I don't care. I can do whatever and go wherever I want. Well actually I can't, I think I'm being hunted-" Your rambling trick works and he interrupts you, clearly irritated. and doing whatever he can to shut you up.

Taehyung rubs a hand over his face when he realizes he can't get rid of you, "Okay! Okay, I really don't give a shit. Stay here then. Whatever. Just stop talking. Fuck."

It’s rather easy getting him to cave, but in retrospect, that's not a good thing. It just proves how far gone he is. For example, who doesn't care if a random person - specifically a person who broke into their home - stays with them for an uncertain amount of time? He just doesn't care. And that's scary.

He walks towards the door, the vessel still in hand, and turns to you to say, "I'll be back later. Take care of the body."

Lovely.

3:00 AM

There’s a reason why this time of night is called the witching hour. That's when witches and warlocks are the most powerful. 

So here you are, cross-legged and floating above the floor, getting ready to do something rather invasive, but effective. You aren’t sure if there’s a specific name for what you’re doing, but you’re basically putting yourself into Taehyung’s dreaming mind to pull the memories out of their hiding spots.

When the darkness takes over, it pushes everything aside and fills your mind with disturbing thoughts instead of your own, and it does this so quickly that you forget almost everything about yourself in a matter of minutes.

It’s also tricky because you aren’t able to detect what the memories are until after having drug them out from the deepest pockets of his mind. You have a 50/50 chance of this working in your favor, and you really need it to.

Being inside someone's dream is like being underwater. You don't move as fast as you usually do, and everything's a little fuzzy to look at. Thankfully Taehyung is smart enough to have his memories boxed away, so it isn’t hard to find them. You reach for the nearest one to you, then proceed to open the lid.

The first memory that you pull is one from Taehyung's childhood. You watch his family run around the beach, laughing and splashing around in the salty ocean water.

You reach for another, and suddenly it's autumn. Older Taehyung and his younger sister are kicking the leaves around in the park. A crisp breeze carries the leaves away in the wind while they play.

The next memory leaves you chilled. Taehyung is driving through a snowstorm on his way home after picking his sister up from school. He didn't want her to drive in this weather. You watch in horror as a deer runs out in front of them. He swerves and the car spins on the icy road before rolling several times. They're knocked out for a while, and when Taehyung finally comes to he notices that she's no longer next to him, and there's a giant hole in the windshield.

You return to your body, which is covered in a cold sweat. 'What a terrible way to watch a loved one die. No wonder he let the darkness in.'

You’re ready for your next plan of attack the following morning when Taehyung finds you in the kitchen. His face twists when he notices your bowl, he’s not-so-secretly judging your choice of food.

"What? A witch has to eat." You say, defending the sugary cereal. "Plus, it was in your cabinet. You bought it."

"Didn't buy it. Also not my house, I'm just ahhh - renting it for the time being." He grins, obviously satisfied with his response.

'He's in a rather decent mood. Especially compared to yesterday. Does that mean the memories worked? There's only one way to find out...'

"So," you start, even though you know Taehyung isn’t paying attention to you, "How did you sleep?"

"I relived my sister's death last night." 'Yeah. That one's on me. My bad.' "But I also dreamed about this breakfast cafe near my favorite park that my family used to eat at every time we came to the city."

Your eyes grew in size when you realize that he remembered a memory all on his own. This is really good. Really, really good.

Taehyung wakes up feeling different, but he can’t place how. For the first time in a while, he doesn’t hear whispering, and he can’t help but wonder if you have something to do with that.

'It must be', he decides. 'You, for whatever reason, keep the whispering at bay.'

And then it clicks. You're one of them. And he doesn't know what to do about it.

You're here to fix him. But he doesn't want to change. To go back to a normal life. Well, as normal of a life as a warlock can have.

He sits up in bed and opens his palm. The smallest flame appears and he watches it dance in his gloomy room. He doesn’t want to miss this. Without black magic, Taehyung is nothing but a weak man, incapable of protecting the people he cares about.

He plays it off when he sees you in the kitchen, choosing to talk about his dreams last night, and watches your face light up when he threw in that last one.

"Do you want to visit that place today? It sounds like it's nice," You suggest before getting up to put your empty dish in the sink.

Taehyung's face drops, he’s right. You’re one of the Saved.

"You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? It's too bad that place doesn't exist," he hisses before driving you backward. Your head bounces off the wall and he doesn’t hesitate to push the knife he had hidden earlier against your windpipe.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I know what you are," he seethes. His rage deepens as his face lowered to yours. His eyes burn into yours, "You're Saved. And now you're trying to save me. Correct?"

You swallow slowly and nod. This is a serious situation. At any point, Taehyung could snap. Then who would save him?

Both of you proceed to look at each other, waiting for the other to do something stupid. He presses the knife further into your skin, fighting with himself to end your life. But he can’t, for some reason, he’s intrigued and wonders ‘What if?’

"Fuck it," he breathes, having made up his mind, and closes the gap between you. His lips move against yours in a fight for power. The forgotten knife drops to the floor and his arms move to hold you tightly between his body and the wall.

You’re in shock. This isn’t supposed to happen. Definitely not a part of your plan. You don't sleep with the people you're supposed to save; you're pretty sure there's a rule against that somewhere. But strangely enough, you aren’t complaining. He’s a good kisser.

'This really shouldn't be happening.'

No matter how wrong it may be, you let things continue. He has you shoved up against the wall, his lips covering yours. 

Taehyung’s magic massages along the sides of your body, before joining in the middle and going right for your center.

He knows exactly what you want before you do, touching the right places, and bringing goosebumps to your skin's surface with every motion.

He’s addictive - whether it’s because of the taste of sin on his skin or the taste of the black magic vibrating through his veins - you can’t get enough of it.

Practically every nerve in your body is on fire and you haven't even gotten to the fun part yet.

You moan when the pressure between your legs grows, and bite your lip in an attempt to keep them in.

"You should be running in the opposite direction right about now," he purrs before leaning to drag his tongue along your neck.

"Oh please, I'm not going anywhere. Not until I get what I want." You pant. 

"And what do you want?" he questions with a sly smirk.

"You." 'And to save you.'

He doesn’t hesitate to tear your clothes off before removing his own.

"Please," you beg, needing to be touched by him. Your insides ache for more of him.

He brings a hand up and closes it around your neck, "No talking. Got it?"

You nod again, secretly enjoying the slight pressure and the tingling feeling the lack of oxygen creates.

He lifts one of your legs and you wrap it around his waist, opening yourself up for him. His fingers sink into your heat, moving at a pace you can’t keep up with, preparing you for what’s to come next.

Another moan leaves your swollen lips as he pushes into you without hesitation. Your back arches involuntarily and you squeeze your eyes shut at the amount of intense pleasure running through your body. 

Taehyung holds firmly onto your sides and he pounds into you relentlessly. His deep thrusts have you close to seeing stars. The magic he’s using simultaneously leaves behind sensuous, shadowy caresses upon your skin as he takes you to another dimension.

“Fuck,” he growls before placing lingering wet kisses along your neck. You marvel at how he stretches your insides out in the most delicious way.

“Don't stop. Keep going,” you choke out, unable to stay silent any longer, “Please keep going, oh god!” You’re so close to the edge. A few hard thrusts later and you’re shaking as the coil deep inside you snaps, sending waves of white heat throughout your body.

You whimper when he continues to pound into you, his release not far off. Taehyung moans one last time before releasing into you, and your convulsing walls suck in his warm seed.

You shudder when he slowly pulls out of you and dropped to his knees. A small gasp slips out when his parted lips meet your center. Your fingers grasp onto his hair as his tongue dove deep into you.

Taehyung indulges himself in your sweet taste. For whatever reason, he can’t get enough of you. It isn’t until you’re pleading for him to give you a break that he releases your already sensitive nub.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and once he has he stands back up. Both of your chests are moving at the same pace as you look into each other's eyes, almost asking, what now?

"Okay. Well, um, I'm gonna shower... I'll see you later?" Fuck, you don’t know how to talk to him after that. Are you supposed to thank him for the best sex of your entire life? Do you just quit your job and run away?

Taehyung, on the other hand, is in awe. He isn’t sure what kind of spell you have over him but he’s already craving more.

He doesn’t care enough to argue about the fact that you lied to him. Not after that. 

Plus, sex is sex. If he has to put up with your annoying habits and attempts to 'save him' for a while longer for good sex then he will. Simple as that.

With his decision made, he accompanies you into the bathroom. "I hope you're ready for round two."

Honestly, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been with Taehyung. The days tend to blend together, particularly due to your inconsistent sleeping schedule.

You still have your mission in mind, but it isn’t something you desire to finish right away. The small sliver of darkness inside of you rejoices when you push your duties aside.

The second Taehyung becomes Saved and is returned to his family, you have to say goodbye. And that's something that you aren't prepared for. You know now that your heart has gotten involved, which is a dangerous game to play.

This is exactly why they say to never mix business with pleasure. It makes such a mess of things.

Taehyung keeps you in bed for most of the day, for reasons most can assume, and your exhausted body isn’t tired of this routine just yet. Habit has it that you usually fall asleep, phone in hand. So it’s no surprise that when you awoke to it vibrating you already knew what to expect.

After rubbing the sleep from your tired eyes, you squint at the bright screen in an attempt to read what it says.

Unknown Caller

Your heart sinks, and you crawl out of bed. 'This isn't going to be good.' You hurry to make it out of the bedroom before answering.

"Hey, Taemin-"

"It shouldn't be taking you this long to track a Sinful." Your supervisor interrupts, "What the hell is going on? Are we losing you?"

"Nothing's going on, I swear. I tracked him at first but then things got complicated. I even managed to break into his place." Your excuse is half-true. "I’ll keep you updated on my progress-"

"It’s been over a month. You have 48 hours to bring him in, or we're giving the case to Dino. My advice is to get the Sinful bastard on a leash and *bring him in.*" He hangs up on you and his words echo in your mind. 48 hours. 48 hours until someone else is taking him from you.

"Who was that?" Taehyung asks with a scratchy voice when you crawl back into bed.

"Wrong number. Go back to sleep," you whisper. You wait for his breathing to even out and take the risk of projecting into his mind once again. It’s dangerous to flood him with so many memories this fast but you don’t have a choice. You pluck memory after memory out of those damn boxes, hoping that it’s enough to make him come back. You’re running out of time.

The following morning, you realize just how dangerous it can be. Taehyung is in a sour mood from the second he wakes.

"Why can't you just stay out of my mind for one night!" he hollers, climbing out of bed and trying to get away from you as fast as possible. "I know you were in there. Why do you have to remind me of her." His voice cracks and it pains you to see how much he’s hurting.

You can’t stop though. Even though he’s in pain, he’s still feeling, and he needs to feel to get better. “Because your memories are important-”

"Stay out of my fucking head!" He rages, cutting you off and disappearing before you can say anything else.

It's now been several hours since you saw him last. Maybe you were pushing him too hard and the darkness realized that it's being forced out. They call it a flare-up; it’s like the last straw. The darkness will do anything to stay in its host, even if that means harming them.

Once Taehyung returns, you try not to panic when you see the bruises all over his body. Not normal purple-blue bruises, but deep green and black ones. Serious ones. Especially for a warlock. These kinds of bruises are caused by magic. Strong magic. Typically black magic.

"Oh my god, what happened?" You rush to him the second he steps in the door. He’s shirtless, hands all bloody, and covered in those god-awful bruises.

"I don't- I don't know. Blood everywhere. The bodies. I don't know."

Your hands rest over his and you close your eyes, focusing on retracing his steps with your gifts.

You’re transported to an alley, where you watch as Taehyung attacked a mob of the Sinful. You wince when he snaps the first man’s neck and then consumes the darkness seeping out of the slumped body. He claims the additional power for himself, as he does with the rest of the people that you see left lying around.

You pull yourself back to the present and look at Taehyung. With more black magic running through his veins, heat radiates from his body and his muscles tense, hoping to be used in another battle shortly.

"Taehyung, I know it hurts to remember and feel these emotions but I really need you to keep them. Don't let the darkness take them away. Please, Taehyung. It's important." His eyes meet yours and you can see the fight he’s putting up from the inside.

"I'm trying. I really am."

Your fingers trail down his cheek, "I know. I know how hard it is, and I know how strong you are. You can do this."

"I can't." Tears stream down his face, "I'm nothing without it, I'm weak. I have to let it in again. I need it."

His entire demeanor changes after saying those words, not realizing the weight that they carry. He’s so close, and now it’s back. He’s rid of the darkness for just a few short minutes and he’s so broken. There’s no way you can save him all on your own.

"You," He says, his voice deepening to something sinister, "Don't you know when to give up? Haven't you realized he doesn't want you to save him?"

"He wants to be saved. You just won't let him go. I'll get him back, and I'll get you out for good," you spit out.

"It's been too long, he's never coming back," the voice gloats, although the darkness that spills through his lips doesn’t match his eyes. "How pathetic it is that you have feelings for this weak warlock. Don't you know that he will never be the same? He won't love you. He doesn't even know what love is. Stupid girl."

"That's a lie." You remind yourself that this isn’t Taehyung talking. This was the darkness. “He’s capable and worthy of so much love, unlike you.”

Even though you know better, there’s a small part of you that’s scared it’s true. 'What if it’s impossible for him to love? Even after he comes back?'

Taehyung can’t help it. He really tried. But it’s just too strong of a fight for him. He doesn’t have the energy.

And you don’t have time to waste. Grabbing onto his head, you stare into his eyes, "I'll get you out of there, I promise." He tries to pry your hands off but you hold on strong. "I promise, Taehyung. Please hold on just a little longer."

You hate to leave him, especially after a momentary breakthrough, but you need help. So you dial the one person you know you can depend on.

"Hey Dino, how fast can you and the others get here?"

It's been different since you've left.

Taehyung doesn't understand why he feels this way, or why he feels at all. He doesn't care, at least that's what he's telling himself to get through the past couple of days. Although he can't help but wonder why you left, and if you’ll ever come back.

It’s thoughts like these that have him so distracted, that's why he doesn’t sense them. That's why they’re able to capture him. Once again, Taehyung is nothing but a weak warlock - even with black magic on his side this time.

Whoever it is, they’re strong enough to cast a sight spell. He can’t see anything. He doesn’t know where he’s being taken.

When they finally release the spell, he's confused by his surroundings. He was almost expecting to see more Sinful wanting to suck the rest of his powers out for their own benefit this time.

To his genuine surprise, it's you.

You and a crowd. All Saved witches and warlocks. Even though he knows what's coming, he's terrified. Not many make it through this part.

"I know you're smart, so I don't need to explain to you that this is going to hurt like a bitch. But I need you to hold on. The darkness is going to want you to give up, and I swear to god Taehyung, if you let that happen I will kill you. You need to hold on."

The group circles around his body and began chanting the spell while you prepared to do the worst part. You refuse to let anyone else do this. 

It’s horrific, to say the least. No one enjoys burning protective sigils into another person's skin, especially when that person is someone you love. You know better than to look at his face when you do this, but his screams remind you of how terrible it hurts, and the scars on your arms ache having been in this exact position. The smell of melting flesh is enough to make you sick to your stomach, let alone the combination of all of these things.

Hell is nothing compared to what a witch goes through to be Saved. The rush of everything that you have done but technically didn't do, the people you murdered, the emotions and memories that come flooding in. It's a lot to be overwhelmed with. And sadly, not everyone can handle it. 

You pray to Nyx that Taehyung is capable to make it through this.

'I'm okay, keep going.'

Raising your gaze to him as his voice sounds in your mind, he reassures you that this has to be done.

'Whatever happens, keep going.'

You nod, holding back tears when he lets out another blood-curdling cry.

You don't know what happened. An eerie sensation washes over you as you try to make sense of the scene in front of you. Someone screams. Who’s screaming? You don’t recognize them to be coming from you, but it has to be. The only thing you’re able to focus on is someone dragging you away from his cold, limp body.

Dino holds onto you through your endless fighting, "He's gone. We need to move. You know we're all at risk with that kind of dark power floating around, unseen."

And that’s the last time you saw Taehyung.

Life after leaving the city is hard. 

You refuse to talk to anyone about what happened, but they all have their own assumptions. Even your supervisor wants you to take more time off but you’ve been declining. Surrounding yourself with work is the only distraction capable of taking your mind off everything else.

You’ll gladly do anything but sit at home where you actually had time to think.

The assignment you recently returned from had been really underwhelming; you brought back and returned the woman to her husband in less than a day. A new record for you. All it took was a handful of wedding photos and snap - she was back. Granted, this one was only gone for a fortnight, so it was an easy job compared to... You let that thought end abruptly, refusing to say his name.

Unlocking your front door, you take a step inside and drop your bag at your feet, your magic closing and relocking it for you. 

'Something is wrong.'

You feel it, someone else’s presence. You have no idea how or why - but someone is in the next room over. Your magic can sense theirs.

Nobody knows where you live, not even the other Saved witches. You need to have your safe haven in case anything ever happens. Your house is spellbound to keep the Sinful from entering. However, if a Sinful took in an absurd amount of darkness, it isn’t impossible for that to happen. And you’re terrified to find out who is waiting for you.

It isn’t common for them to hunt you down but in the rare event that it does happen, you have certain protocols to follow, or else things can get very dangerous. Scared to death, you keep your hands at bay and pull yourself mostly together before walking into the living room.

"Why are you crunched over walking like that?"

Letting out a yelp, you immediately turn to your left. “Taehyung?" Your hand rests on your beating heart. 'He's alive?'

"Before you ask, yes I'm alive, and yes it's actually me." It takes you a moment to register his words, which he completely understandable. He knows you must have been through a lot these last couple of weeks. Especially since everyone assumed he was dead.

"There's no way... It’s not possible. Dino checked before we left, you were dead. I don't know how you are here right now." 

'You're hallucinating. That's the only realistic answer. You're going crazy and imagining all of this. There is no way Taehyung was alive this whole time. You would have known.'

"Well, apparently he didn't do his job very well because here I am," he chuckles. This is so not the time for chuckling and happy reunions.

You know it’s cliche to do so, but you really just had to poke him in the chest to check. Magic-wise, you can tell he’s alive. You can also tell that he’s still a warlock again, blessed with the gifts of Nyx, but you can’t place any darkness within him.

"How is that possible?” you mumble to yourself, reading his soul again.  All Saved have a trace of darkness...but he has none.

"This might be a wild assumption, but can it be due to the fact that I died and came back? I don't think the darkness could withstand that."

"That seems logical." You’re still weirded out by this whole ordeal but that answer would work for now, at least until you brought him to the base tomorrow to be checked out. "So then why were you hiding in the corner?"

His lips curl up, "What can I say, I learned from the best."

"Okay, so then why are you here? In my house?"

"I needed to see you. I didn't believe it at first either when I first woke up. I thought maybe I turned into a ghost or something, that my spirit was trapped since I died dark. But people noticed me on the streets. And for the first time in years, only my own thoughts were in my head. No whispering." He rests a hand on your cheek, "You saved me."

“It was my job,” you blurted out, not knowing what to say. This is absurd, everything that had just happened made absolutely zero sense. 

He gives you a look, knowing better than to believe that was the only reasoning for why you pushed so hard to bring him back.

"And can I just say for my personal well-being that I never wanted to hurt myself more than the day when fake-me said that it was impossible for me to love you. You have no idea how hard I was fighting to come through and say the exact opposite."

Taehyung steps forward and pulls you against his body, "Because I do, I love you."

Your heart nearly bursts having heard him confess the truth. Raising your hands up to his head, you pull him down into your waiting kiss, where you pour love and light into one another.

While you’ve become accustomed to the taste of sin on his lips, you’ve got to admit, the taste of love is so much better.

©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

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[meadowofdarts]

A Play of Vigorous Wisdom (PART ONE)

Here it is, everyone! The awaited reader insert of 3.6's event.

Before we get into it, I want to say- HOLY SHIT I didn't expect that it would blow up immediately on the first day- I was so surprised at the amount of notifications I had LOL

Now, regarding the post, I did say I would allow a platonic relationship or a love interest, but not that many people said which they preferred. But only a few said they mostly wanted a pairing and were able to give out what they wanted as a love interest.

And from the few, the majority vote was Scaramouche/Wanderer. So this is a Wanderer x Reader pairing.

For those who wanted a different love interest - I am so sorry if Wanderer wasn't the love interest you were hoping for. but, don't go, I have a surprise for those people who wanted a different love interest. Check it out at the end of the post!

Anyways, sorry that this is a long ass author note but- I want to thank everyone. Whether you liked, reblogged, commented on the post, or followed my account, I truly appreciate the amount of support I got from that single day. You don't know how happy I was- I legit teared up, I really wasn't expecting it 😭

I hope I won't disappoint you guys with this, so thank you, and enjoy!

//////

You were walking towards the Sanctuary of Surasthana with millions of thoughts running through your head. Most of them (Actually all of them) are about your lover, formerly Scaramouche and now known as Wanderer. You figured that you were called by Nahida regarding him.

Which reminded you that you haven't seen Wanderer for quite some time.

On your way, you noticed some Akademiya students setting up booths nearby. You see one of the stalls included a cute star toy that reminded you a lot of the theme of the Akademiya Darshan - Rtawahist. You figured these stands have something to do with the upcoming Akademiya Extravaganza.

Recently, you enrolled yourself in Akademiya's Darshan - Vahumana. Since you're still trying to explore many areas of Sumeru, you figured that this Darshan could help expand your knowledge of Sumeru's history and learn about other nations.

You've heard of this festival from many of your peers in Vahumana. They said it was a fun influence event held by the Akademiya. The two main parts of the event were the Wisdom Gala and the Interdarshan Championship.

You figured you could watch the Interdarshan Championship while playing the fun booths of the Wisdom Gala.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you opened the entrance of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Seeing the whole open area still gives you the chills. You looked ahead to see the God of Wisdom along with your said lover you haven't seen for a while.

"Ah, there you are!" Nahida beamed, noticing you. The indigo-haired male beside her turned in your direction too.

"Hello, Nahida. I hope I wasn't late," You said, walking up.

"Not at all! He had just arrived too." Gesturing towards Wanderer, who was already glancing at you.

You smiled at him as a 'hi' while he looked down, closed his eyes, and acknowledged your greeting.

She placed her hands on her arms, changing her expression. "Now that the two of you are here, I came here to discuss something with you two."

"Are you both aware of the festival coming soon?" She had asked.

You nodded. "The Akademiya Extravaganza? Yes, I have. While walking, I saw some students already setting it up."

"So, what about it?" Wanderer asked, speaking up for the first time. "Do you want us to participate in it?"

"Actually, yes," Nahida answered. "But, there is something I both would like you to do."

...

The three of you were discussing the topic Nahida asked you to come for. It took a while, but you and Wanderer agreed to the job given to you.

...

"That is all. Any questions?" The tiny god asked both of you.

You thought of it for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I understand. But, Kusanali, are you sure both of us can be representatives? Won't everyone think it will be unfair?"

"Don't worry, I don't want to be stuck with you either," Wanderer remarked as you shot him an annoyed look.

"Don't worry, I have already talked about this with the Sages and the Planning Committee, and they decided they will make an exception this year just for you two," answered Nahida.

"Hmm, alright." You nodded.

She then smiled. "Okay, you two can go now. I hope to see your progress in the festival soon."

The two of you walked out of the Sanctuary of Surasthana and strolled into the streets of Sumeru City.

"I didn't know you registered yourself in Vahumana. Is that why I haven't seen you in a while?" You asked as you two walked.

"Probably. And I didn't sign up in my own free will. It was Lesser Lord Kusanali that registered me in Vahumana." Wanderer said.

"You do know I am a member of Vahumana, right?"

"Of course, I know. You told me about your past works before."

"Then, how come I never heard of you? Usually, my friends would chat about new members added to the Darshan. Surely, I would've heard about you at least once."

He muttered. "It's probably because of the name I go by in the Darshan."

...

///FLASHBACK///

It was another tiring day at the Akademiya. You and your friends were seated at a table in the House of Daena, chatting and complaining about your classes and research.

"Hey, I saw a new guy coming into our class earlier. I think he is who I think he is." One of your friends shared.

You rolled your eyes playfully at them as you listened in while reading your book.

"Oh, yes. I've heard. So, you got Hat Guy in your class?" Your other friend asked. But what they said made you look at both with a confused expression.

"Huh? Who's Hat Guy?" You repeated making the two look at you.

"I don't know much, but I've heard from the other students that someone by the name 'Hat Guy' had made interesting inquires against a researcher regarding incidents of Inazuma." One of your friends answered.

Your other friend nodded. "Yeah. I've heard from my teacher that he has written such impressive essays. The professor gave me a glance at Hat Guy's work, and it was truly outstanding!"

"Hmm, he seems interesting." You trailed off. "But, really? What kind of name is Hat Guy?"

"Right? I was weirded out when I heard of his name." One of your friends agreed.

Your friend chimed in, "Oh, come on. It obviously can't be his real name. It's probably just an alias or something."

"But, why 'Hat Guy?' You wondered.

'Well, when I saw him earlier in my class, he did have a noticeable unique hat on him. Maybe it's that." Your friend shrugged.

...

//////

"Wait, your... 'Hat Guy'?" You confirmed as you watched him nod.

...

You were silent, processing the ridiculous yet amusing information you received about him.

He looked at you, seeing your blank face.

...

He then heard you let out a giggle. He sighed as he had expected this reaction.

Your little giggles turned into full-on laughter. (Luckily, the streets you guys were in are very crowded, so nobody focused their attention on you.)

He rolled his eyes as you continued laughing out loud.

"I-I CAN'T-! HAT GUY!" You wheeze out in the middle of your waves of laughter.

"Y-Y'know, if you told me *snickered*-you were signing up for Vahumana- I would've helped you pick a better name, and you chose Hat Guy." You trailed off, resuming laughing.

He groaned. "Oh, shut up, will you? It's not like I wanted to be named this way. It was Lesser Lord Kusanali's fault."

You laughed harder at that :D

...

Both of you were now in an empty alleyway to avoid attention. You two sat on crates as you sipped vigorously on a water bottle.

Your throat ached from laughing a lot, so Wanderer bought water for you.

"Are you better now?" He muttered as you wiped your mouth.

"Yeah, I think..." You giggled, still on about his name. "Sorry, it's just- It's so funny-"

Wanderer grunted. "You're not letting go of that name, are you?"

"Nope." You smiled.

"Alright then," He shrugged. "Then, let me help you get your mind off it for a while."

You raised your eyebrows, but before you knew it, you let out a surprised noise as his lips were now on yours.

It was a quick peck before he leaned away and kissed you again.

You cup his cheeks, pulling him away while laughing with a blush on your face. "Heh, what's this for?"

"Well, mainly to get your mind off a while. But, consider it a gift to you for not seeing you for a while." His words made your smile widen.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You feel him hugging back.

You two stayed like that for a moment before he softly grabbed your head and connected your lips again.

(author: LMAO- Is this OOC, am i doing his character right- wtf this isn't him?? reminding myself that he is now wanderer, not fatui scara. okay what am i doing, I'm so sorry everybody)

...

A few days have passed, and the Akademiya Extravaganza is now taking place. Many students from the darshans are looking around the booths and around Sumeru City.

You and Wanderer were holding hands, finding your way to the main venue of the Interdarshan Championship.

Finally, spotting it outside, you see many people already gathered around and saw behind the stage, which you assume are the other representatives.

Wanderer led you to where they stood but kept his close distance from them while wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You didn't mind, as you don't know some of them. You could see in the corner of your eyes some of the representatives raising their eyebrows at the both of you.

You scanned through them and noticed a familiar forest watcher. You slightly waved at him, and he looked slightly surprised but waved back.

Just then, you hear a voice from the stage, which you assumed was the organizer, starting the event.

...

...

The Traveler and Paimon had just arrived at the venue, as they were here as guest commentators for the championship.

"Welcome, one and all, to the Akademiya Extravaganza!" The organizer, Kareena, welcomed.

"Now then, allow me to reveal the prizes for this iteration of the Interdarshan Championship--" She stated. "Fabulous monetary rewards, research funds, a limited-edition Genius Invokation TCG card… and the right to wear the Diadem of Knowledge. I believe that I need not elaborate as to how this is a symbol of great honor!"

The people muttered as they admired the Diadem of Knowledge.

"I believe that most of you have already seen the Diadem of Knowledge, or have heard tales about it."

"Twenty years ago, a researcher named Sachin bought it for a large sum of Mora before donating it to the Akademiya. The generous Championship prizes are also sourced from his sponsorship. Before we begin, allow me to express our gratitude to this researcher, who cannot be with us right now..."

...

The traveler spaced out for a moment, thinking something was wrong. But decide to listen to Kareena first.

"Alright, I'm sure we're all more than ready for the Championship to begin!" Kareena cheered.

"Now then, let's invite our six Darshan representatives to the stage! Our contestants are--"

"Representing Amurta, Tighnari!" Tighnari side-eyed the audience.

"Representing Spantamad, Cyno!" Cyno crossed his arms.

"Representing Rtawahist, Layla!" Layla shyly looked down.

"Representing Haravatat, Faruzan!" Faruzan slyly smiled.

"Representing Kshahrewar, Kaveh!" Kaveh showed a confident expression.

"And for Vahumana... Huh?" She looked behind. "Is Vahumana's representative not here yet?"

It was silent for a moment as Paimon whispered. "I wonder who's Vahumana's representative? It could be someone we know."

"Ooh, could it be (Name)?" Paimon silently hoped. "They are a member of Vahumana, right?" The traveler nodded.

Everyone was looking around for a sign of entrance until two new presences entered the stage.

"These introductions are pointless. Let's just get this over with."

Everyone turned to the pair that went upstage. You were standing next to Wanderer with neutral expressions.

"Eh? W-Wait a sec, why is he there with (Name)?" Paimon muttered in confusion as the traveler felt the same.

"Finally! Our final contestants are Vahumana's representatives: Hat Guy and (Name)!" He crossed his arms while you stood with one arm on your hips.

"Huh? Why are there two representatives for one Darshan?" One of the students muttered.

Another one answered them (Which the Traveler and Paimon's heard.) "Haven't you heard? The planning committee did announce that one of the Darshans would have two representatives."

"But isn't that like... I don't know, kind of unfair to the other representatives?"

"Well, I guess. But I heard that the committee decided hard on this and made an exception this year. The other representatives were aware of it too. But then again, they didn't say you aren't allowed to have a partner in this championship..."

"Hmm, that's true."

Paimon shrugs as she looks at the Traveler. Both traveling companions hear more about 'Hat Guy' and (Name)'s work in Vahumana. And they hear other people talk about the pair as representatives.

"It's so weird... Sure, I could get (Name), but him? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would participate in competitions like this one."

"I'm quite puzzled, too..." The traveler muttered.

"Now that we have our contestants, the Championship will soon begin!" Kareena announced. "Who will triumph this time around? Hold on to your hats, because we're all in this ride together!"

"Huh, we really do know a lot of the contestants," Paimon said. "Ooh, right, we're guest commentators, aren't we? So figuring out everyone's reasons for participating is in our job description."

"Let's go ask them when we go say hi. Especially him… Paimon still thinks it's weird that he's here." Obviously referring to 'Hat Guy'

...

The guest commentators have talked with the representatives, catching up on them and asking about their reasons for participating. After chatting with Kaveh, Faruzan, and Layla, they only have two more people to go which are the Vahumana representatives.

You and Wanderer were chatting and observing the area around you until you noticed the two coming to you.

"Hi traveler, hi Paimon." You waved.

"Hi (Name)!" Paimon waved back until she turned to your lover. "Um, so... what... what, uh..."

"Just call me Hat Guy. That's the name I use in Vahumana." He said. You silently giggled.

"That sounds like a nickname, not a real name!" Paimon said.

"So I can't go by a simple, ordinary name?"

"Fine, suit yourself. Alright then, Hat Guy and (Name), why are you both taking part in the Interdarshan Championship? We're specially invited guest commentators, so play nice and answer our questions."

Wanderer smirks. "You could be matra for all I care. So what if we don't answer you? What then?"

"You...!" Paimon whined. "(Name)! Tell your boyfriend to behave properly and answer our question!"

You sweatdropped. "Well, I can't do anything about that. But I'll say this; we can't reveal our reasons for participating."

"You two aren't plotting something in secret, are you?" She questioned.

"Well, it's hard to say. Why don't you take a guess?" He teased back. You shook your head at him.

"Oh, Paimon's had it with you!" She exclaimed at him. "Fine, be that way! Then we won't ask why you're participating. Instead... Uh, why did you join Vahumana?"

Wanderer turned to them. "You two sure like to poke your noses where they don't belong. If I don't say anything, are you going to annoy me to death?"

He then signed and told his reason anyway, talking about how he refuted a researcher named Aqaba and made commentary on societal issues in Inazuma.

"But when Lesser Lord Kusanali heard about this, she went out of her way to get me registered in Vahumana... She used the name, Hat Guy."

"So it was Nahida's doing..." The traveler muttered.

You chimed in, laughing. "Honestly, I didn't even know he was in Vahumana until a few days ago. And he really had to surprise me with his name."

"Enough chit-chat. You're better off wasting your time with the other contestants." The indigo-haired male said, then smirked. "Someone's about to get very unlucky - wanna guess who?"

Both Traveler and Paimon had annoyed expressions. "How is anyone supposed to relax with you around!?"

Paimon muttered something to her partner, something about keeping a close eye, which amused you.

...

"I will now announce the rules of the first round of the competition. Please listen carefully!" Alhaitham announced, gaining everyone's attention.

"During the opening ceremony, Akademiya staff released several cages of butterflies, and many of them are now fluttering within Sumeru City. Amongst these butterflies, three of them will be special Swiftflies. They have a different appearance and also fly a little faster."

"Your objective is to find a Swiftfly and bring it to me. Three points will be awarded to the first participant to return, two to the second, and one point to the third. That is all for the first round. Should you require clarification on anything, please ask any of the other staff."

Every representative starts muttering to themselves, as you notice Spantamad's representative leaving already. You figured everyone was planning already.

"Well, we're definitely not doing this first round." You say as you walked up to Wanderer.

"Why? You want to go with them?" He asked.

"What? No!" You immediately shook your head. "I don't want to go around Sumeru to look for butterflies. Besides, I'm already terrible at catching crystal flies."

He deadpanned. "They are different. A butterfly isn't an elemental-life form like a crystal fly, idiot."

"I know that!" You huffed. "But, anyway, now what should we do?"

"Hmm..." He thought for a moment before making eye contact with the traveler. "...Hmph."

You looked behind him. "Huh? What is it?"

"It's nothing," Wanderer reassured. "But, I think I'll stay for a while to obverse the others. I'll meet you later."

"Oh, okay," You shrugged. "Well, I'm quite hungry, so I think I'll go to Puspa Cafe. I'll see you there?"

"Sure."

You smiled and kissed his cheek, making the corner of his lips turn upward. "Bye!"

...

The couple was sitting outside of Puspa Cafe, both enjoying their little date.

He stopped talking once he noticed someone coming. "What brings you two here?"

You turned to see the Traveler and Paimon again.

"Huh? Are you both here having coffee? Aren't you both supposed to be a participant?" Paimon asked.

"Well, heh, I got quite hungry." You sheepishly admitted.

"Is there really any need for us to take part while everyone's running around like it's some sort of carnival? Don't worry, we'll get involved once things actually get serious." Wanderer responded for us.

The two companions looked at each other, shrugging before ultimately leaving the two of you alone.

"Anyways, Hat Guy, I would like to ask you something." You said, teasing him with his new name.

He rolled his eyes. "Is that going to be your new name for me?"

"Would you prefer if I called you an umbrella?"

"...Tsk. What is it?"

You smiled. "Is it alright if we can go to the Wisdom Gala booths? I would like to play those cool games I saw!"

"Huh? I suppose." He replied. "But why? Just to remind you that you are already a Vahumana student."

"I know that, but I just want to see them!" You pouted.

He laughed. "Alright, alright. We'll go walk around and go to the nearest one."

...

You two were holding hands are you walked around Sumeru City. You guys have already been to one booth, which was Kshahrewar's, and you two decide to go to the other ones.

"Wow, I never thought I had such unique building skills." You beamed.

"Honestly, it was such a simple task. It's just a task of using your resources to help you gain the goal." He shrugged.

You chuckled. "Well, yeah, but it felt like I was building my own parkour."

You both hear rushing footsteps in your direction. You looked behind to see Layla with wide eyes.

She was staring at you while you awkwardly said. "Uhh, hello. Can I... help you with something?"

"Uh, (Name)?" Wanderer called out to you. "You have a butterfly on your head."

"Huh? I do?" You noticed the blue wings at the corner of your eyes. But the insect looked different than the normal ones. "Are these... one of the swift flies?"

You see Layla dropping her shoulders until you realize why she stared. "Hey, are you looking for this on my head? Go take it if you want."

She looked up very surprised as the Traveler and Paimon entered the scene.

...

Layla carefully took the Swiftfly off your head, still slightly confused as you reassured her with a smile.

"(Name)? You gave Layla the swift fly?" Paimon wondered.

You turned to them. "Huh? Yeah, why? Is that... not allowed?"

"Uh,- (Name) was it?" You turned as Layla called your name. "A-Are you sure you want to give me the swift fly? I mean, it went to you... after all."

"Oh well, I didn't participate in the first round, and I have no intention of stealing it from you. Besides, didn't you say you caught sight of it first? I think it's fair if you take it." You tell her.

"I..." Layla was at a loss for her words. "...Thank you."

"Wow, that's so nice of you, (Name)!" Paimon beamed.

"Really," You blushed. "It's no problem at all."

"Well, since you've caught the last swift fly, I assume the first round is over, then," Wanderer said.

"Oh, right!" Paimon turned to her companion. "Let's bring the swiftly back together with Layla!"

The trio waved you goodbye as you both continued on your way.

...

(author: i feel like the end was lazy- i'll make it up once part two comes out)-

BONUSES:

-Fighting For The Diadem (Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, Layla, Faruzan)

Thank you for reading! See you next time in part two!

PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

taglist: @etherisy, @fanfictionenthusiast, @melobee, @cattycattitude, @timeofsilversstuff, @yourfuturebaee, @lifelesscloud, @sketcheeee, @godsblesstheboi, @swivy123, @that-mom-friend, @julia-scribbles, @llunariese, @seirenspinel, @anggurz, @stormyenglish-23, @inferisk0, @paracosm-life, @mochisgf, @fabimaou, @yuyukami, @kaocia, @sharkdays, @miyakoa

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin wanderer #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kaveh x reader #layla x reader #faruzan x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #nilou x reader #genshin version 3.6 #interdarshan championship #sumeru x reader #sumeru #genshin #genshin 3.6

[avatarofcuriousity]

Why YOU Should Vote For Solomon In The 2022 RAD Popularity Contest!

YOU. YES, YOU! YOU are sleeping on Solomon!

He doesn't like that, MC.

So I am making this post as a fellow Solomon enjoyer!

1. Much Character And Development (Very Cool!)

Solomon is an immortal sorcerer. So, he's not a demon or angle. He's different like that, a bit quirky if you will.

He's lived a long time. He's very lonely. The RAD program was finally a place where he could find his found family. Doesn't that make you feel bad? Don't you think he deserves more love to compensate for his very much lonely life? I am guilt tripping you, you are being held at gunpoint, MC...

To elaborate more on his character, please allow me direct you to these AMAZING posts (that are actually serious and put things in way better words than I ever could lol) to explain why he's SUCH much character.

@books-and-catears Quick read of his Birthday Event and all the details of how amazing he is!

@3vocatio 's Analysis Of Why Solomon is a Consistently Written Character AND The Devs FAV (CANON???) (REAL, NOT CLICKBAIT) (😱) (😍)

@yourboyhack 's reblog of Solomon's B-day Character Card and how it mentions the obvious and is so very based

2. He Just Loves You So Very Much

As evident by his constant praise and affection! You're his darling apprentice and is very proud of you! 💙

Example shown here in @books-and-catears post!

He is absolutely your soulmate, MC. No, I'm not gaslighting you, MC, what do you mean?

He is determined to show you how much he loves you! He's open and honest. All he wants is to be sincere with you, as also evident by ANOTHER @books-and-catears post (They're so fucking based, one of the biggest Solomon appreciaters ever) and @he-calls-me-kitten 's reblog!

Conclusion?

Solomon is a very amazing and fantastic character. Especially after his Birthday Event, it's clearer than ever he's one of the best written characters! He deserves much more fans and appreciation. And the Devs ESPECIALLY deserve to know how much we adore his character! And even if you STILL don't like him or prefer another character?

Do it for the bit. That's right. If nothing I said reached you, at least do it for the funny.

And THAT is why you should vote for Solomon in the 2022 RAD Popularity Contest!

VOTE NOW!:

(NOTE: You can vote as many times as you'd like! (If you go into Incognito Mode 😏👀) Vote your true fav, but I encourage you to go vote for Solomon as MANY times as you can in Incognito and go HAM.)

#Obey Me #Obey Me Shall We Date #OMSWD #Obey Me Solomon #OM Solomon #Obey Me RAD's Popularity Contest #RAD's Popularity Contest #Obey Me Fluff #Obey Me Smut #Obey Me Solomon x Reader #Obey Me Solomon x MC #Obey Me Solomon x You #Obey Me Analysis #Obey Me Character Analysis #Obey Ms Solomon Analysis #Please vote for him he's so lonely MC. #MC. Please. #Don't run MC. #I promise you this is the right decision MC. #This whole post was an excuse for me to ramble about him and promote him lol

[tizeline]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

Oh this is fun! :D

1) The drawing I'm the most proud of this year is actually one I never ended up posting lmao, so I suppose this is the perfect reason to actually do that

I always feel a bit self-concious about posting non-fanart drawings cuz they don't tend to gain as much attention. Which, I am fully aware that there are more important things than clout! But I am a simple woman, I crave validation 😔 Anyway, I am still very happy about how this one turned out. I very much prefer drawing characters over enviroments, which led to me being way worse at drawing enviroments than characters, so I've been pushing myself for the last couple of years to get better at drawing backgrounds and surroundings. While I still definetily have a lot of room for improvement, this illustration here is the best I've done in drawing enviroments yet.

2) Again, original stuff don't tend to get as much attention (which I fully understand btw, I don't wanna make it seem like I'm complaining too much, I very much appreciate any and all support I get!!!!) but this post with some doodles of my OCs as well as this random drawing of some forest with a big stone head lying in it are a couple of posts I wouldn't mind if more people saw so..... the links are there if ya wanna have a look 👀

3) Oh man, I've seen so many awesome artpieces this year, i can't guarantee that these are my actual top 3 picks, but here are some that I could remember liking (and that I also managed to find lol) (also these are in no particular order

This GIF was the first piece of RotTMNT fanart I ever reblogged and it's still glued to my mind it's just great honestly.

Man I do not like Timothy in the 2012 TMNT series at all but MAN do I love the way pinetreevillain adapted the character for the Rise universe! He's made quite a few comics of Rise!Timothy and he made the character so extremely likable I just hdsjhgjakfga also Pine's artstyle is delicous yummy yum go check out his art now!

I really like those reanimation projects where a bunch of people collaborate and reanimate induvidual segments in their own style, and there was recently one of those released that was a remake of The Clothes Don't Make The Turtle episode from season two of RotTMNT and it's great! Go and watch it here!

#again i love this ask #great idea #tizel talk #tizel art #my art

[ticklishfiend]

A Joint Effort (Good Omens)

(lee!crowley / ler!aziraphale)

Summary : in which aziraphale and crowley created tickling together many years ago (alt. and reminisce on it many years later)

a/n : lowkey this is very conversational abt tickling but i do (personally) love a fic that discusses the topic :D there is tickling tho dw LOL i just wanted to write some tickly dialogue

word count : 4065

hope u enjoy! pls consider giving a reblog if u liked it <33

. . .

A lot of things went through Crowley’s mind as he gazed at that all too familiar lake. Mainly all the times he and Aziraphale met here to discuss their “private affairs,” a secret team-up only one angel, one demon, and dozens of ducks could know about.

More recently it was all that dreary “end of the world” business he’d quite frankly prefer to Men In Black himself out of remembering (by the way, what a fantastic film that one was, the humans couldn’t have been both more far off and somehow right on the nose with it). The lake was lucky it was still so pretty after all these years, otherwise he’d have stopped visiting after everything resolved itself some time ago.

Humans had a phrase for what he tended to do alone on the bench. “People-watching,” they call it. Such a funny phrase considering it’s technically been his job since the creation of man itself. Maybe that’s why he enjoyed doing it so much. Technically, it’s kinda what he was made for.

He listened as a man adjacent to him across the lake was thinking and thinking his little head off. The man pondered over a woman, a lover Crowley presumed, and apparently how good their date had gone last night. Crowley noticed him fiddling with something in his pocket. Oh yes, a ring. What a disgustingly adorable tradition.

Crowley tapped his ring finger against the bench with an unknown impatience.

He saw that close by, a woman made her way towards the man (ah wait, it’s the woman, he could hear the man’s heart rate pick up and blood sloshing towards his cheeks, kinda gross how their bodies betray them), her hand finding his as she laid her head down on his shoulder. Crowley’s throat made a funny sound as he crossed his arms.

Crowley didn’t care much for the conversation, much more of an observer than a listener. Out of habit, he almost sent an evil little miracle their way, a “no” from the woman catching at his fingertips and becoming clenched in his fist. Actually…this might be the first successful proposal he’ll ever witness. He can hear the yes before she’s even said it, so much love radiating between them it's like radiation to his skin.

But he wants to see this play out. Just because he actually can now. Yeah…trying new things and all.

So it plays out just like the movies. He gets down on one knee, she cries, yadayadayada, blahblahblah. But this time, Crowley can actually feel it. This isn’t like seeing it through the screen. Those emotions become one with the air, making the whole park’s atmosphere thick and sugar-scented. It makes his skin crawl. Or he got goosebumps. He can't tell for sure, maybe it’s all one and the same.

He keeps watching the couple, telling himself he’s invested like one would stare at a car crash (even though nothing about this is a wreck at all, it’s a tad beautiful and Crowley knows this, but there’s still something so wretched about how his eyes stay glued to that spot across the lake).

They keep giggling and kissing, snapping a few photos of the moment and basking in each other. The man lifts the woman and twirls her around, her sun dress twirling with her and making the scene look so…ugh, romantic.

Or…just romantic. Maybe there’s no need to groan so hard at that.

Then the woman does something that snaps Crowley out of his little haze (call it jealousy and Crowley will treat your legs like snap peas). She pokes and squishes around her new fiancés sides, and said fiancé begins to giggle. The woman gave the man a tickle.

Tickling is far from a new concept to Crowley. Actually, he may have had a little hand in creating it. It wasn’t his idea exactly, he didn’t sign off on the paperwork or anything, but let’s just say laughter wasn’t the first possible noise option. He thought it’d be a bit more creative if there was less screaming in hell from time to time.

Most people would probably assume tickling came straight down from above, a place of innocence and love and, yeah, laughter. Others may even say it’s a hellish creation, but those tended to be the ones that drew the short end of the ticklish stick (that is to say, they’re probably really fucking ticklish).

But honestly, this one was kind of a joint effort. Is the paperwork technically written on a heavenly scroll? Sure, yeah. But who was the one that signed off on that scroll in the first place?

Well, Aziraphale did always have such an obnoxiously perfect signature.

Near the beginning, Crowley had overheard some demons discussing new torture methods for the humans to use on each other, something easy that required less machinery on their part. One brainstorm talked of the humans being able to do nothing but poke at their enemy to get them howling in pain.

And, well, Crowley thought that sounded laughably absurd.

So the next time he saw Aziraphale on Earth, he gossiped like usual. Talked of how stupid it sounded, how the humans would get so out of hand using it they’d never get anything productive done. And of course, Aziraphale agreed (though he was at first quite shocked a demon was against any brainstormed torture method, no matter how ridiculous).

Together they devised a little scheme. Nothing major, just something to beat the demons to the race. They had to though, right? It’d just be stupid to ruin something as precious as humanity over a few pokes.

So, instead of screaming in pain, the humans would scream in laughter. It wouldn’t hurt, unless the human was too rough of course, and really the worst it could do was embarrass the victim (except when Crowley snuck in that sometimes they may wet themselves, as a silly little gag. Aziraphale may have been too distracted trying to find a mysterious, strangely itchy dark feather in his garments when he wrote that one). It was such a silly invention, and Aziraphale even felt a little embarrassed bringing it to Gabriel, but oh how the other angels adored it. It was a new game for their humans to play, to occupy and fill the time of their short useless existences. It was a perfect time-waster.

And so became tickling. A joint project created by Crowley and Aziraphale, one of the first little schemes they pulled together that only dipped their toes into everything that came after. And now Crowley got to watch as his invention created a positive memory for some random romantics at his favorite park.

It was weird. He’s never felt funny about tickling before, but since he and Aziraphale have gotten rather…um, close recently, seeing this couple be all flirty and affectionate and tickly was making him feel funny feelings about it he’s never felt before.

He’s not blushing. That’s a human thing. He’s just…warm.

Crowley shakes his head, emptying his mind of all that weird mushy shite. He brings his eyes back to the couple, seeing them kiss and talk and bask in each other’s otherness. Part of him made that happen, in some cosmic butterfly effect sort of way.

Maybe everything is a circle, just as they say. Like it’s all meant to be. One particular word stings at his tongue, he’s heard it a thousand times before out of Aziraphale’s mouth when the subject of a great plan is brought up. He’ll just have to save it for when his angel comes back around.

…

—( alt : s2 ending never happened and crowley goes back to the bookshop afterward and everything is fine and dandy and happy :D )

…

The bell above the bookshop’s door rang a familiar chime when Crowley stepped through, announcing his presence to the one and only being it should matter to. He practically beelined for the drapes, figuring it far too bright for a cozy bookshop even with his sunglasses on.

Crowley heard behind him the soft angelic clunk of each foot making their way down the staircase, the room brightening on its own as Aziraphale made his way down.

“Well that wasn’t a very long outing,” Aziraphale rounded into the main area, cup of tea in hand. “Did something happen?”

Crowley dusted the drapes with his hands, “Such a worrywart, you are,” spinning around and brushing his hands as he met eyes with the one on his mind all afternoon. “The park just got boring, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “Excuse me for noticing that you’re home earlier than usual,” he muttered, taking his next sip with attitude. “But since you’re back so soon, maybe we could…hang out, as the youth say,” he smiled that thin-lipped smile, and Crowley groaned in the back of his throat, following Aziraphale towards the back room (yknow, the one with the couch that Crowley can stretch his legs on as long as he needs and nothing ever feels uncomfortable).

“Grahk, angel, there’s a reason that only the youth should be saying these things. Sounds…unnatural, on your tongue,” Crowley plopped down on his favorite couch, his hand in Aziraphale’s (he’s not even sure when that happened, but who is he to complain?) leading him down to the spot next to his. Aziraphale did a wiggle as he sat, like getting the cushion ready for him.

“I like integrating new shortened language into my vocabulary,” Aziraphale pouted behind his cup.

“Helps me understand everyone better.”

Crowley tutted, “Okay, well, one: it’s not called “shortened language” anymore, you boob. They say slang now. If you don’t even know the word slang, you definitely shouldn’t be using it in the first place,” Crowley propped his feet up on Aziraphale’s lap, the only acknowledgment of his position being Aziraphale’s zero hesitation in using his shins as an armrest. “And two: you already have the most extensive vocabulary on the planet. You can know all the words and phrases you like, but I doubt you’re in dire need of any new ones to use.”

Aziraphale sat his glass down on the coffee table, leaning against Crowley’s legs. “I think you’re just jealous. Envy is one of the seven sins, correct?”

Crowley merely huffed, throwing an arm against the couch’s own and propping his cheek against his hand. He gazed a bit longingly at the angel, who seemed more interested in picking lint off his trousers at the moment. “Saw something at the park I thought you’d like.”

Aziraphale’s ears perked, but more or less remained focused on grooming Crowley’s pants. “Oh?”

“Want you to guess.”

That caught his attention, an annoyed glare thrown Crowley’s way. “I hate this game.”

“Naaaah you love it. Cmon, guess.”

“I’ll at least need a hint, Crowley. It could literally be an infinite number of things,” Aziraphale sat back against the couch now, finally interested in the conversation even if he continued with the annoyed charade, hands folded on Crowley’s shins. “At least tell me if it’s good or bad. You know how I hate bad surprises.”

“It’s good, trust me,” Crowley grinned. “Has to do with something we created a looong time ago. I’m talkin’ B.C, baby.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised, really curious now.

“We created it?”

“That we did, angel.”

Aziraphale hummed, fingers fidgeting with the fabric, before gasping in excitement, “Was it a chihuahua?”

Crowley’s own eyebrows shot up at that, nearly having forgotten they created that wretched animal.

“Oh but they’re so cute, Crowley, look at how tiny!”

“Fine, but that thing’s gonna be a beast, I don’t care how little it is.”

“Heheh, no but good guess,” He chuckled, sliding his glasses off and tucking them into his front pocket. His hands mimicked Aziraphale’s, fingers crossed but against his chest. “One more hint: I saw some very…giggly humans.”

It took him a moment, but finally Aziraphale grinned, giving Crowley’s knee a few squeezes and delighting in the squeak and kick against the other arm of the couch. He giggled as he watched Crowley turn pink and grumble. “That may be one of my favorite things we created together.”

Crowley shoved his glasses back on as if hiding, more embarrassed than he’d like to admit. “You’re ridiculous for miracling that shit into me all those years ago.”

“I only did it because you did the same to me!”

Crowley chuckled, regaining his confidence to reach over and squeeze at Aziraphale’s side, relishing in the angelic giggles.

“Well obviously. I’m a demon. Had to mess with my angel somehow.”

Aziraphale pushed his hand away, his smile remaining with pink cheeks. “Yes, but an angel is nothing without an even better miracle than yours. We both know you got the worst of it,” Aziraphale said, throwing wiggly fingers in Crowley’s direction when he tried to argue, “Don’t make me tickle your ribs and prove it, Crowley. We don’t want a repeat of—“

“Say it and I’ll pluck each feather off your back and go to town on those ears of yours.”

Aziraphale just grinned, retracting his fingers and letting his demon relax as he held his hands up in defeat. Aziraphale sort of has the high ground here anyway, considering their differing levels of sensitivities; he’ll just bring it up later.

“So you saw some people in a tickle fight, then?” Aziraphale tipped the conversation away from them, a little wary of the threat. “Quite a public spot for something we made to be so embarrassing, don’t you think?”

Crowley waved a hand, “Aaaaah they don’t all find it embarrassing. The guy seemed too happy to care, anyways,” he said, scrunching his nose. “He had just proposed.” Crowley said the word like there were worms crawling under his clothes.

Aziraphale gasped, “Oh how lovely! You should’ve congratulated them, Crowley!” He whined, knowing Crowley too well, sensing there was no way he had given them a proper congratulations. Aziraphale hated missing out on precious human moments like that.

Crowley smiled at his enthusiasm, “Don’t worry, angel. They’ve got each other for that sappy shite.”

Aziraphale huffed out a happy giggle, giving Crowley’s leg a little shake and pat. Crowley always found it gross how giddy the angel got over others happiness. It made his heart and belly feel funny, maybe he was going into cardiac arrest or something. Well, not literally of course, but maybe like metaphorically.

“So the newlyweds had a little tickle tussle in the park? Oh that’s just precious,” Aziraphale held his hands close to his chest. “Thank you for letting them have their moment, dear.”

“Whatever, just didn’t feel like working too hard today,” Crowley sniffed, leaning back against his arms. “Yknow, the guy seemed to be loaded with those tickly nerves. I don’t blame that girl one bit for going at ‘em. Kept making these funny noises and wigglin’ like a worm. It was honestly very amusing to watch.”

Aziraphale grinned all smug. “Weeelll…”

Crowley frowned. “Well…what?” Aziraphale just shrugged, giving Crowley a quick up and down. Crowley shot up, pointing a finger, “No. That is not how I am.”

“All I’m saying is, if you can’t blame her for tickling her husband because of his funny reactions…weeeelll…” Aziraphale giggled, throwing shaky arms up in defense when Crowley leaned forward.

“Keep at it,” Crowley warned, throwing his legs off Aziraphale so he could corner the tittering angel into the couch, “And I swear, I will have jars of ticklish angel tears to display on my shelf,” he poked Aziraphale in the chest, awfully close now. “I’ll make sure you discorporate with a smile.”

Aziraphale gulped on a giggle.“I-I was merely…Crowley, come on now, I’m teasing,” he stuttered out. Crowley was right up in his face now, a smile that may as well be fanged making Aziraphale’s voice quiver. Crowley was eating up the sight.

“Yeah? Well so am I,” Crowley grinned in his face, glasses falling to the tip of his nose so Aziraphale could see the endearment in his yellow eyes. Aziraphale sighed, bringing a hand to the demon's chest. Crowley leaned into the touch, humming contentedly as he started relaxing against Aziraphale’s form.

He curled up against the angel’s side, Aziraphale’s fingers playing at his cheek. Crowley pressed his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder, mumbling, “It’s not my fault you’re a literal God-gifted tickler.”

“Mm, well it isn’t my fault you’re ticklish enough to break my vessel’s nose—“

“Okay, fuuuck you, I thought we weren’t bringing that up, you twit,” Crowley flicked Aziraphale in the temple, “Also, it quite literally is your fault I’m this ticklish. Prick.”

Aziraphale kept a frown after having his face assaulted like that, “I feel like you’re just asking for it now. Insulting and flicking me as we talk about how horribly ticklish you are. Yes, quite a wise decision on your part, Anthony.”

Crowley pressed his face further into Aziraphale, mumbling something incoherent that probably made no sense anyways. Something like, “your mum’s horribly ticklish…” but who's to say. Aziraphale caught on with a giggle.

“Oh is that it?” Aziraphale asked, squeezing Crowley’s shoulder.

“Is what it?”

“Do you want me to-“

“No. Fuck you.”

“Are you sure? Because it sure seems like-“

“Noooo.”

Aziraphale held back a laugh, trying not to embarrass Crowley so much he fled from the scene. Instead, he just slid a hand up Crowley’s side, decidedly not tickling. Crowley tensed under him, his hand squeezing tighter on Aziraphale’s lapels, but made no move to leave.

“I used a word before,” Aziraphale tapped one finger against the clothed side, not ticklish but definitely threatening. “Envy. Is that what you’re experiencing, Crowley?”

Crowley tried to grumble, but it sounded more like a whine with his face smushed into Aziraphale’s coat.“Wha’ would I even be…envious of,” Crowley muttered. “S’all stupid. Not the proposal, that’s for damn certain.”

“Oh no, surely not the proposal,” Aziraphale used his one finger to scritch gently. Crowley tittered in his throat. “I wonder what else I could be talking about, hm?”

Crowley was vibrating. He could feel how warm his face had gotten against the coat, hating himself for it but refusing to leave. This was…this was something. “Beats me,” he shrugged, but quickly brought his arms back down when he felt Aziraphale’s hand trail up even further, fuck. He growled, “Sssstop.”

“Stop what?” Aziraphale pinched once, and Crowley growled. “If there’s something on your mind, I’d love to hear it.”

“Hhmmhhmmhehehmm,” Crowley hummed a whine, squirming in Aziraphale’s hold. Part of him desperately wanted to sprawl out onto his partner's lap and let the angel have his ticklish way with him. The other part of him was screaming to push Aziraphale away, tell him off for being so silly and stupid. He didn’t actually think Aziraphale was stupid in the slightest, but fuck he couldn’t really think of anything worthwhile to say with Aziraphale’s fingers doing that to his lower ribs.

He didn’t do either of those things, though. Instead, he stayed curled into Aziraphale’s side with fingers also curled right on that spot that made Crowley feel all…all squirmy.

“Crooowleyy~,” Aziraphale sang into his ear, smiling against the shell of it as Crowley jerked and snickered in giggly fluster.

“What do you waaaant??”

“Did that couple make you think some…” Aziraphale pinched a quick line from Crowley’s ribs down to his hips. Crowley choked out a surprised giggle, body arching with a flinch. “…ticklish thoughts?”

“You’re such a dihick,” Crowley slapped Aziraphale’s hand, barking a laugh when he just squeezed his hip in response.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“…mmmmm no.”

“Crowley. You’re pushing into my fingers.”

“Shhhut up!”

“Admit it and I’ll get this over with,” Aziraphale said, abandoning his fear of embarrassing Crowley too much as it seems he was actually enjoying that part of it now. Who knew demons were so fond of being a little flustered?

Well, probably not most demons. But, come to think of it, when has Crowley ever been like “most demons”?

“I can’t, angel,” he whined, words a bit breathy as Aziraphale has switched to gently, slowly clawing at the clothed skin. It wasn’t enough to make him laugh, but damn if it still didn’t tickle like hell. If anything, this was probably worse. He can’t use the excuse of, “well I can’t talk when you’re tickling me!” because really, Aziraphale wasn’t. Not yet at least. Now they both knew he just can’t talk because he’s too flustered, and isn’t that a horrifying thought in itself.

“I never realized you actually liked it,” Aziraphale said genuinely, but his tone really made it sound like a tease.

Crowley shook his head, “I d—“ he bit down on his rebuttal with a growl, the word ‘don't’ falling down his throat. By now, they both knew that wasn’t true. No sense in fighting it, he guessed. “I didn’t know.”

Aziraphale made a surprised sound. “Really?” He gave a scribble to Crowley’s side, longer than the usual ones, and Crowley whined through a giggle.

“Uuugh maybe. Just when…whehen the couple—when they wehehere—Angehel I can’t speheheak when you’re—!” Crowley squeaked when Aziraphale started pinching up and down, giving focus to that little spot below his ribs. He couldn’t keep his giggles down, falling into breathless, flustered laughter as Aziraphale actually, finally started to tickle him.

“Too ticklish for words, Crowley?” Aziraphale teased on purpose this time, bringing his hand up, up, up to tickle a single finger in the hollow under Crowley’s arm. Crowley spasmed, choking out high pitched giggles as he squirmed and tried hiding his face even more into Aziraphale.

Aziraphale merely brought his other hand in to play with his exposed ear, bringing Crowley’s smiling face out as he jerked his head around to defend.

“Nohoho! This can’t be fffffuhucking fahahair-!” Crowley agonized, his laughter all over the place in pitch.

“I suppose not, considering I have quite the advantage here. More ticklish and enjoyable for you? What a pickle, my dear,” Aziraphale said, giggling as he heard the words come out of his mouth. “Aha! A tickly pickle! Isn’t that funny, Crowley?”

Crowley cackled as he shook his head around madly. Words weren’t easy when Aziraphale’s hand moved from his ear to his previously untouched side, pinching and squishing at the devastatingly sensitive hip bone.

“Refute it all you want, but with how hard you’re laughing you must think I’m very funny,” Aziraphale said, digging both hands into Crowley’s hips while dodging a headbutt to the nose.

Crowley’s mind felt like tangled wire. The tickling, the teasing, the knowing that he’s enjoying every second of it (and tickling and teasing him for exactly that). He’s been tickled before, been tickled by Aziraphale a few times in the past, but this was…it’s different.

They’re closer now, closer than they’ve ever been before. They know each other so intrinsically and still manage to learn new things about each other every day. Today’s discovery just happens to be Crowley’s apparent love for being tickled silly by his favorite angel, and he’s having trouble coping with the embarrassment of that when Aziraphale’s hands won’t leave his fucking hips alone.

“Yohohou-! AHA—! You’re diabohoholical! Ffffuhuhucking wanker!” Crowley insulted through hysterical giggling, squirming and kicking as his hips were tickled to the nub.

“Oh? Does someone want me to go back up to the ribs?~” Aziraphale’s hands finally left his hips, but slowly scribbled their way back towards his awful rib cage. Crowley thrashed with a cackle, it doesn’t even tickle that much on his sides but even the thought of those fingers back on his ribs has his stomach feeling ticklish on the inside.

“You dohohon’t—! Dohon’t have tohoho—ahAHAha nohohoho-!” Once those fingers found his ribs on both sides, Crowley gave up all the fight he had in him. He melted into Aziraphale’s side, merely squirming and twitching as he let his ribs be plucked by angelic hands. It was a torturous bliss he never expected himself to be found in.

“A ticklish demon,” Aziraphale cooed, leaning down to press his nose into Crowley’s hair. When Aziraphale talked now, it felt like the words went straight to Crowley’s brain, vibrating through the skull and making his neck scrunch. Crowley wanted nothing more than to let his angel play with him, and Aziraphale loved doing just that. “My proudest creation.”

. . .

a/n : hope u enjoyeddd it was very fun to write lol. pls consider liking and reblogging!! happy holidays <33

#tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #good omens tickling #good omens #lee!crowley #ler!aziraphale

[candyredappledragon]

h-hi! the name is kieran. nice to meet you! ive been here for a bit and uhm.... sadly figuring out how to use this site! ( kind of afraid of interacting with others especially but im trying my best to not be easily scared ! ) i am not familiar with technology and or online things/words so please be patient with me. i know there are other kierans here too and honestly theyre pretty cool! ....d-dont tell them i said that. im not really a battler so if you are trying to look for one then im sorry to say that you will be disappointed but you can ask the others though. really sorry

..uh thank you for checking my blog— furret youre on my facEXSFDGCVHH

🍎 Please no genuine anon hate, nsfw, or anything really bad. ( You can be mean to Kieran! ) Pelipper mail is okay ( but malice is off for now ). Sapient Pokemon or the likes of interacting are fine too, Kieran is too much of a goofball to notice it. Please don't give him Pokemon the thought is appreciated but if you do they'll turn into stickers lol.

Please don't be weird. I'm serious. As well PLEASE be patient with me and not be pushy. I'm trying my best!

This Kieran is in AU as to what happens if Florian doesn't lie to him about Ogerpon and whatnot! Kieran still doesn't get Ogerpon and is fine with it ( kind of, as in this made him feel inferior to having friends and will always be chosen over by other people. ) His way of thinking is that maybe he should try to be nice and kind to others so that will help him get friends as he sees Florian do this the same to others. ( The only thing Kieran thinks he's not good at is having a funny personality. He is very awkward in person. ) Blueberry Academy was hard on him as he was almost practically as ignored and students tend to forget he is the champion because of his cowardly personality. Florian took over later as champion. Okay there.

(By the way this is a summary please don't hurt me. 💔)

Plus I will try to draw for asks but they won't be the best but surely will motivate me to draw! If there are no asks then I'll just draw daily things with Kieran so it's a win-win for me!

💥 This Kieran doesn't like to get involved with stuff so feel free to drag him into antics! He isn't the one to approach people either so if you are wondering why I don't start convos with other blogs with asks that's why. ( I'm shy too. ) He's a bit of a coward online and in person but he won't shy away trying to be friends with others.

🍎 Posts are tagged to make things easier! Feel free to block one of them to make your experience smooth!

Art related: art tag , art reply , daily Kieran art

Text related: text reply/reply text , text ask , text post , ooc post , reply reblog

Other: long post

Anything you want to be tagged? Please let me know! :)

"Can we use your art?" Feel free to use the art or whatever! Don't need to credit and I prefer not to be credited. You can edit it too! Idgaf just no bigotry. :,] "What do we call you and do you have pronouns?" Uhm, you can call me Eight or any other version of the number 8 itself. [ Ex: Ocho, Hachi, Acht, etc ]. No pronouns! Refer me to by name or just call me mod or some other third thing lol. "What art program do you use?" Clip Studio Paint! "Are you okay with collabs?" Of course! Please feel free to message me anytime. :] "What time do you post art/responses?" Uhm....... anytime to be honest? My sleep schedule is ABYSMAL. I am very much online unless I'm busy doing comp. "Are replies time sensitive when interacting with this blog?" Nope! Take your time with your replies. I am pretty chill and everyone is pretty busy with real life. Fair warning I'm a ditz. :( "Why did you make this blog?" To draw Kieran a thousand times over until I'm dead lol. ( Even if it isn't posted on this blog!) And world build my stupid au. :u I'm just currently on a small burnout on drawing. I'm sorry. :c

"Is this a sideblog?" Yeah, you are never going to find out my main!! It's very cringe ( it has different media art ). I will interact with my other sideblog with thoughts and reactions at times. [ if you are curious @/hahahasquib ]

"Do you like Kieran?" No. ( Yes. A normal amount. )

#rotomblr #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #pkmn rp

[onyourowndaisymae]

Yoo I have two request which I’ll send the other one separately but I am in an ANGSTY mood rn sooo yah also been binging ur headcanons and stuffs and I just love the way you write ?? It’s so entertaining lol

AnywY the actual request: can you write like a one shot or headcanons if you prefer of mc who is struggling after the belphie incident ?? Like they feel like they’ve mostly forgiven him and can act normally around him and they’re friends and take naps together but sometimes the flash back just HITS THEM and they have nightmares and panic attacks that can be so bad sometimes someone needs to get Simeon to calm them down. Maybe something of how the brothers react/treat mc and belphie? Idk I’m just thirsting for like MEGA ANGST rn bc my dad made me cry little bit lmao 😭

it comes at night

hello anon! i'm terribly sorry you're in such an angsty mood, though i thank you for all the love-- and for sending this request right as these ideas were on the front of my mind. it genuinely makes me so happy to see people enjoying my work, and it makes all the writer's block and such worth it. i cannot express enough how much i love seeing all the comments, reblogs, etc. as people engage with my work.

anyways. i'm not sure how i feel about this piece, especially with how LONG it ended up being, but maybe that's just my mushy brain talking after looking at it too long. regardless-- i hope you enjoy (well, y'know, in like a sad and angsty way).

synopsis: you thought you would be able to move on like all the others. your body was healed, your anxiety tucked neatly behind a mental wall built to keep you safe. yet something in you was stuck. you couldn't just move on. you were trapped in a battle between your friendship with belphegor and the fear gnawing at your brain as you remembered what exactly he did to you. when the dam finally breaks, your whole brain floods with terror, until you're swept away with it. nobody can save you now.

genre: angst, no happy end, just a big ol spoonful of sadness

word count: ~3.1k

content warnings: chapter 16 spoilers, graphic(?) discussions of death, depictions of panic attacks, nightmares, mc progressively getting worse from fear + lack of sleep

it's funny how time works. 

you'd been around your fair share of years. you’d grown, you’d changed, you’d spent your entire life looking toward the future you had planned. then you, a mere human, were yanked into an unfamiliar world. you spent an entire year in the devildom– a year that simultaneously dragged on and flew by– and came out the other side a new person. a single year in the devildom has changed you more than the human realm has your entire life. time was a mischievous thing, always leaving you chasing behind in a fruitless pursuit of something you’ll never quite understand.

but, she also brings blessings with her. they say that time heals all wounds. you've always agreed with that sentiment. scraped knees and adolescent broken hearts are swept away with the passing days, trailing further and further behind you until one day you forget to look back and remember them. the pain scribbled down on diary pages or cried into pillow cases no longer stings like a fresh burn. these things are nothing but scars now. time has a special way of patching you up, of rubbing your back until the tears clear up and you can finally see again. that is how it's always been. 

where is time when you need it? 

she hasn't quite abandoned you, this much is true. cuts and bruises heal over the passing days. your hair and nails still grow. your body still changes, slowly but surely, marching onwards week after week. yet your mind is trapped in stasis. you struggle to break free, but at times the rot consumes you whole, until you’re crying under the covers and begging from respite from the memories. 

on the worst nights, you find yourself in the attic again, watching the door between you and belphegor swing open. you watch yourself march towards death.

you can still feel his hands around your neck, digging his claws into your fragile human skin like you're made of sand. the scent of blood-- your own blood, on the floors, on the walls, leaking from your torso and staining your clothes a permanent maroon-- still clings to the inside of your nose. even your wildest dreams could not erase the sight of his smug grin, the way his eyes lit up looking at your battered body.

no one person should have to carry the weight of realizing they're going to die. that's what you thought about when your body hit the bottom of the stairs, when belphegor tossed you down from the attic with a harsh laugh and punted your limp body into the entrance hall. you thought about how unfair this all was. you were just trying to help. you thought you were doing the right thing.

one of the worst parts of your untimely demise was watching the others react. the voices pool together in your head, like the colors of the rainbow twisting together on the surface of an oil spill. asmo's panicked shriek blends into satan's angry shouts, desperate to understand what's going on. lucifer's yelling almost drowns out the fearful cries coming from levi, held back by a very silent beel. 

but above all of that, you remember mammon. your first man, the first demon who took a chance on the defenseless little human, rushing to your side and gathering you in his arms like you were about to break. his hand on the side of your face, the tears streaming down his face, the shaky, desperate voice assuring you that you'll be okay and begging you to hang on, okay? please don't leave me. you can't remember if he was shaking or if it was your body's last ditch effort to stay conscious-- maybe both. your trembling fingers intertwined with his. words came out of your mouth, and you're not sure what exactly you said, but he only cried harder in response. 

and then, as your eyes shut for the final time, you woke at the bottom of the attic stairs. you had cheated death. 

your price? you had to carry the memories. 

the world kept spinning. days passed in the devildom. you returned to school, kept on top of your homework, spent your days in the house of lamentation alongside the seven demon brothers. you even got to know belphegor as he navigated his return home. he quickly grew fond of you. that, in and of itself, was jarring. but you returned each and every smile with one of your own. his actions were rooted in his own grief for his sister, you knew, and for that you could not fault him. you helped him repair the severed relationships between him and his elder siblings, stitching the family back together like a prized quilt until the seams of betrayal were sufficiently hidden. 

time is a traitorous bitch. why did she choose now to leave your wounds bare and bleeding?

everyone moved on but you. everyone got to wake up in the mornings without a nagging anxiety holding them back. the others could hang out with belphegor day in and day out without a growing feeling of dread popping up when you think you're safe. 

he killed you. he was grieving. your blood drenched the entryway floors as he laughed. he has grown. you watched the light leave mammon's eyes as you slipped away. belphie has been nothing but kind to you since that day. you fucking died. 

you wish your mind could pick a side. did you forgive him, or did you resent him? was he your friend, or your killer? these answers evaded you in the dead of night as you struggled to sleep again. it was becoming more common for you to lose hours of rest to these nagging fears. who are you? are you even you anymore? did the switch in timelines scatter your atoms across countless universes, leaving the you that looks back at you in the mirror nothing more than a hollow shell? 

you thought that you could keep your mind on a tight leash, keep your cards close to your chest as you continued to live with the brothers. you were wrong.

the first meltdown came during a nap with belphie. you had grown to trust him-- you thought you trusted him-- enough to sleep around him. he'd coax you every so often into an afternoon nap. always in the light of day, always your choice. and for many afternoons, you were perfectly content with this arrangement. belphie was warm and cuddly, a perfect companion for a lazy afternoon. he had this way of making you feel safe as you slept-- the nightmares couldn't come when he was snuggled up next to you, when you were sure his actions were ones of affection and not another trick to gain your trust.

one afternoon, while the sun was beginning to set, you stirred under the warmth of the blankets. the body next to yours lingered close, steady breaths lulling you back to dreamland. you could stay like this forever, you thought.

and then you felt it. the gentle graze of a familiar cow tail against your skin.

something inside of you, a dam you didn't even know was there, snapped. a hot flash of panic rose up your throat as your whole body jerked away from the feeling. your eyes shot open and you found yourself in the last place you needed to be right now: the attic. you pulled yourself out of bed before your brain could catch up. colors flashed across your vision as a consequence. you whipped around, disoriented and upset, and spotted a sleeping belphie in the bed where you once were.

a sleeping, demon belphie.

the familiar curve of his horns made your throat spasm as you tried to breathe. the colors flashed in your vision again-- oh god, what a terrible time to be left defenseless-- as your brain tried to drag you back to that day. you could practically see his face shift from relief to malicious, insidious joy as he began to attack you.

"hehe... does it hurt? finding it hard to breathe? i'm sure it must be very unpleasant."

please. please no.

" i have to say, seeing a human face twisted in pain like this... why, it's so much fun that i can barely stand it! i... i can't contain the laughter!"

you weren't quite sure when you hit the ground, but it was loud enough to wake belphegor from his slumber. he peeled his body off the mattress, slow and dazed, as he looked for you.

"mc? what're you... what's going on?"

please don't. this can't be happening.

your lungs collapsed from the weight of your own panic. you gasped-- once, twice, as your vision went in and out. were you bleeding? your hand loosely brushed at the front of your clothes, but couldn't process whether that was blood or your vivid imagination. were you even breathing? your head felt light and heavy at the same time. the wires in your brain were all crossed, sending both resuscitation and shutdown signals to each part of your body. this feeling... this was too familiar.

were you dying?

"mc, what's going on?"

you came face to face with belphegor. your friend, your killer. the demon who had lured you up to this very attic to kill you, now gripping your shoulders as interrogated you inches from your face.

you screamed. you screamed until your brain shut off completely, leaving you in an inky pit of darkness as your consciousness slipped away.

the house was in disarray for several days. apparently, lucifer came in shortly after you passed out, mammon at his heels, to save the day. you woke up later in his bed, the room cold and empty, with a throbbing head and a tear stained pillow. you stumbled out into his office to find him at his desk, lost in some paperwork like always. the solemn look he gave you as your eyes met told you everything you needed to know.

from this day forth, your fear was now your constant companion.

nobody in the house of lamentation knew how to move forward. not you, not the brothers, not the widening gap growing between you all with each passing day spent in emotional limbo. finally, lucifer called everyone to a family meeting where, over the course of an hour or two, everyone came to an agreement to acknowledge what had happened and why, promised to be mindful of this trauma that you're carrying, and move forward like you requested.

silent days slowly but surely filled back up with laughter again. the brothers came back to your side at their own pace-- asmo first, within a matter of hours, then mammon shortly after, then the others in the following days.

belphegor was the last to come around. his silence spoke volumes about his guilt. he had no clue how to comfort you. he'd do anything to repent for his actions. yet that was the way that life worked, didn't it? some actions simply cannot be undone.

but you didn't let that stop you. despite the panic that closed your throat every time you saw him for the next month, you slowly earned his friendship again. you assured him that the attic incident was a one time thing, the remnants of a lost nightmare blending into your consciousness as you awoke.

until it wasn't a one time thing.

the nightmares crept up on you. the first one happened, of course, that same night, as you thrashed and wept into lucifer's pillows. then a week later, another. a week and a half after that, another. the frequency eventually became higher and higher, until you started planning your sleep schedule (or lack thereof) around your new insomniac tendencies. but even you couldn't manage to stay awake forever.

on a bad night, you'd wake up in tears, crying weakly to yourself as you tried to coax yourself back to bed. on worse nights, you'd shoot up out of bed, limbs tingling in fear, opting to spend the rest of the night in the common room until the others woke for the day. on the worst night, you finally broke. you shattered worse than you could have imagined.

you finally collapsed into bed, body shutting down after a three days of minimal sleep. you were starting to get shaky from the lack of rest, and your lack of appetite was upsetting the others. you crawled under the covers and let your brain slip out of your hands and off to dreamland.

what a fool you were to think you'd get by without nightmares.

visions of demonic teeth tearing at your flesh filled your head. you tried to run away, tried desperately to wake yourself up, but their claws sunk into your flesh. the pain was vivid, was real. memories of your death lived underneath your skin, ready to resurface in the dark of night when there was no escape. you fought back as best you could, kicking and screaming and trying to run, but you were no match for the supernatural strength of your demons. you eventually gave in, an act of learned helplessness, and surrendered yourself to your worst nightmares.

you woke up choking on your own tears. heaving, gasping breaths tried to save you, mixing with coughs as your body struggled to hang on. the tears finally gave way to the memories-- hot blood dripping from your torso, screaming faces begging you to stay, your head going fuzzy as your vision followed--and your screams escaped without a fight.

a mixed cacophony of voices came flooding in the room. you'd be touched by the gesture, seeking comfort in the arms of your dearest friends, if your brain hadn't reminded you that they were demons as well. nightmarish beasts with fangs and claws, predators built to rip your soft flesh from your bones and leave you to die like roadkill.

you felt a hand on your shoulder. who's was it? you could not tell. your first and only instinct was to scream for mercy, hot tears streaming down your face as mammon's hurt expression moved back out of your line of sight. your chest heaved with effort. it felt like your whole body was caving in on itself. you didn't even realize you were shaking as you curled your body into a ball. your side hit the mattress with a pathetic thud and you wept, bitter and fearful, as a panic attack kept you trapped in its grip.

you don't know how long you stayed curled up like that, wordless cries echoing from your room and into the hallway, but eventually the sound of approaching footsteps caught enough of your attention to forget the panic, even if just for a moment.

"hey, it's okay," a familiar, comforting voice approached, cutting through the fear like a moonlight on a stormy night. "mc, it's me, it's simeon. it's going to be okay."

you felt the bed shift under the weight of someone sitting down, and you blindly threw your body at the person before checking to see if it was really him. it took you a few moments to raise your head, and when you did, you saw him: simeon, your angel, blue eyes full of worry as he met your gaze.

you cried in his arms until you fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

the next morning was miserable, to say the least. breakfast was tense. they all watched you like a hawk, like you were a powder keg about to explode with one wrong move. you couldn't blame them. you were afraid of your own emotions, and on some level, you were afraid of them. your trauma was making you afraid of the very people you cared about the most. these brothers had welcomed you into their home, took care of you as you adjusted to life in the devildom, and yet you couldn't hold eye contact without breaking in to a cold sweat.

the only person who did not watch you was belphegor. he was nowhere to be found during breakfast, nor dinner, nor breakfast the following day. you tried to seek him out, but somehow the avatar of sloth had become a skilled sneak in his silence.

you finally caught him alone on day four of radio silence. you both had stayed home without realizing the other had also skipped school that day-- you, from the lack of sleep eating at your brain, and belphegor, with his usual routine of missing class to nap at the house of lamentation. he was curled up on the couch in the common room, basking in the warmth of the fireplace in his slumber. you decided to wait for him to wake up. you sat down on the couch opposite of the one where he rested and watched him, quietly, like he'd disappear if you dared to blink.

creepy? yes. but your brain was long ruined by sleep deprivation and gnawing anxiety to worry about such trivial things.

when he finally stirred, you gently called belphegor's name. he took a moment to finally look at the source of the voice, but when he did, his body froze as the two of you made eye contact. a few moments passed in silence. finally, he sat up and began to make a move to leave.

"wait."

he stopped, but his gaze did not meet yours. you rose from your seat and joined him on the couch. the youngest pulled his legs in, twisting his body into a defensive little ball, and countered your next sentence before you could even open your mouth.

"you shouldn't be here with me."

"i think i'm old enough to make decisions for myself."

he shifted uncomfortably in the silence. you spoke again.

"i miss you. and i'm sorry."

he scoffed to himself and stared at the fireplace. "don't know why you think you should be apologizing to me. i'm the one that's the problem."

"you're not a problem, belphie. i never meant to make you feel like one."

every hair on your body stood on end. your hands trembled against your wishes, so you sat on them to stay focused. you had to do this. you had to keep moving forward.

"i hurt you, mc. you're afraid i'm going to do it again."

you sighed-- it came out more shaky than you would have liked-- and looked down. how had it come to this? how had someone you'd grown to hold so dear become a stranger again?

"i don't want to stop being friends. i don't like when you avoid me."

"you still get nightmares, don't you?"

you pause. his icy gaze on the side of your head sent you into a cold sweat.

you smiled-- it felt more like a grimace, personally-- and prayed it didn't come across insincere. your fingers carefully intertwined with his. he met your gaze. you were thankful he couldn't see the way your chest tightened when you made eye contact. 

"i'm okay, belphie," you lied. 

this fear was going to be the death of you. 

#i cannot tell if this is good or not i've looked at it for hours #ask answer #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me writing #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me brothers #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me chapter 16 spoilers #otome