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Hotaru no Yomeiri ✧  Firefly Wedding, ch. 25

[hwadam-stories]

[hwadam-stories]

₊ ˚ ⊹ AU ARC: A ROTTEN FLOWER 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ .ᐟ

Both women find themselves at a crossroads, bound by their shared desire for power, love, and survival, yet pulled toward each other in ways they cannot fully comprehend. Each journal entry reveals their inner turmoil, their conflicting emotions, and the strange, magnetic tension that neither of them can escape.

### Sama-Hyeon’s Journal Entry

The Lady Cha-In wears her veil with such dignity, such poise, that one might forget what lies beneath. But I know. I know the scars she hides and the power she wields over the Emperor. I should hate her for it—no, I do hate her for it. Yet, there’s something about her that stirs an unsettling feeling in me.

I watched her today, after I spoke my mind about the Emperor’s heir. She kept her composure, but I could see it in her eyes—the flicker of jealousy, of possessiveness. She knows as well as I do that the Emperor needs an heir, that his line will not continue without a son. And yet, despite all her wisdom, she hesitates. She clings to him, to the privileges she has gained through their bond. But does she truly think she can keep him to herself forever?

*lThere was a moment, though—a brief one, when her eyes lingered on me. I saw it, as clear as day. She was not merely angry. There was something else, something that made my heart race. Desire, perhaps? Or curiosity? I cannot tell yet, but I am not so blind as to ignore it.

I know what people say about me—that I’m ruthless, manipulative, willing to do anything to secure my place at the Emperor’s side. And perhaps they’re right. But is that not what survival demands? We are all just pawns in this game of power, and if I must play the part of the temptress, the strategist, the villain… so be it. I do not fear the consequences.

But Lady Cha-In… Bayan… she is different. She’s not like the others who fell before me. Her loyalty to the Emperor is unshakable, but I wonder—how much of that is truly for him? And how much is for herself? She is possessive, yes, but there’s a part of her, I think, that knows she cannot control him forever.

I’ll wait. I’ll give her time to think about what I said. I have no doubt she will speak to him—eventually. She’s too smart not to see reason. But if she refuses… well, I have ways of ensuring the Emperor hears my plea. One way or another, I will get what I want.

And yet, I cannot stop thinking about her. About the way her body tensed when I leaned close, the way her breath caught in her throat when I spoke of sharing. Perhaps there is more to this than I thought. Perhaps she feels it too, this strange pull between us.

Or perhaps I am simply reading too much into it. After all, what good could come of an alliance between us? We are rivals, bound by the same cruel system, vying for the same man’s favor.

But still, I wonder…

### Bayan’s Journal Entry

She came to me today, Sama-Hyeon, with her honeyed words and soft smiles, but I saw through it all. She thinks herself clever, manipulative, as if I would be so easily swayed by her talk of securing an heir. Does she truly believe I would give up what I’ve fought for so easily? That I would allow her to take what is mine?

And yet…

There was something in the way she spoke, in the way she moved, that I cannot shake. The way her body leaned close to mine, the way her lips brushed against my ear. It sent a shiver down my spine, one that I cannot explain. I should hate her. She scarred me, humiliated me with that Ruben powder, and yet, when she looks at me with those piercing eyes, I feel something else—something I do not wish to acknowledge.

She spoke of the Emperor needing an heir, and I cannot deny that she’s right. Dhan is the Great Sun, and his line must continue. But the thought of him bedding her—of anyone else—twists my heart in ways I did not expect. I am possessive, yes. I want him, need him, in ways that I cannot fully understand. But I also know that I am part of this system, a system that raises us up one moment and discards us the next.

Perhaps I have been blind to it all this time, blinded by my love for him, my need for his favor. I turned a blind eye to the others, to the women who came before me and met their end at his hands. I told myself that they were not like me, that I was different. But now… now I am beginning to wonder if I have been a fool.

Sama-Hyeon, with her arrogance and jealousy, should repulse me. And yet, there is a strange pull between us, one that I cannot deny. I caught myself staring at her today, at the curve of her body, the way her dress clung to her. I loathe her for what she did to me, for the scars that now mark my face. But I also… desire her, in a way that confuses and frightens me.

Am I losing my mind? Or is this simply the effect she has on people, bending them to her will with nothing more than a look, a smile, a whispered word?

She asked me to speak to Dhan, to persuade him to bed her, to secure an heir. The thought makes my blood boil, but… I cannot ignore the logic in her request. The empire needs stability, and Dhan needs an heir. But I am not ready to share him. Not yet.

Still, there is something between us—between me and Sama-Hyeon—that I cannot fully understand. Perhaps in another life, another time, things might have been different between us. But in this world, we are rivals, bound by our desire for power and survival.

And yet, I find myself thinking of her. More than I should.

What am I becoming?

[hwadam-stories]

⊹ PHANTOM PAINS ⊹ EPISODE TWO

(black!fem!) mea harper!reader x CEO boss!Dhan Tae-Oh

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

I do not consent to my work being reposted, — stolen or translated anywhere else.

CW: long post, Emotional tension, jealousy, family conflict, unspoken resentment, cancer, marital strain, financial stress.

SYNOPSIS: The drive home from dinner turns into a heated confrontation as you confront Kal about his mother’s blatant favoritism toward Jenna and his failure to defend you. Kal’s excuses and lingering jealousy over Dhan fuel the argument, while deeper resentments and financial pressures rise to the surface.

A/N: finally! The second episode is out! comments, messages & reblogs are greatly appreciated and encouraged and they will help me consider continuing it with motivation.

The Car Ride Home

The car was quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful, but tense and filled with unspoken words. You stared out the window, the blur of city lights passing by as Kal drove, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The weight of the night hung heavy between you both, but you could feel the storm brewing inside of you, ready to break.

"Mr. Tae-Oh, huh?" Kal’s voice cut through the silence, but it wasn’t casual. There was a bite to it, a hint of bitterness that made your chest tighten.

You inhaled slowly, already bracing yourself for the argument that was coming. "What about him?"

Kal’s jaw clenched, his eyes still on the road. "He seemed awfully friendly back there. Sending you that bottle of wine like it was nothing. That wasn’t just small talk, y/n."

You rolled your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Are we seriously doing this right now? Kal, it was a gesture. That’s it. I didn’t ask for it, and it didn’t mean anything."

"Didn’t mean anything?" Kal scoffed, shaking his head. "You sure about that? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like he was trying to make a point. Right in front of me."

You turned to face him, unable to keep the edge out of your voice. "Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in yourself, you would’ve noticed that your mother spent the entire night disrespecting me. But no, you were too busy entertaining Jenna."

Kal’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, his expression defensive. "What’s Jenna got to do with this?"

"Everything!" you snapped, the floodgates opening. "She sat next to you the entire night, Kal. Not me. Your wife was sitting at the far end of the table like some outsider, while Jenna sat there, all smiles and giggles, acting like she was the one who belonged next to you."

Kal’s grip tightened on the wheel. "That wasn’t my decision, y/n. Mom wanted to sit us that way. You know how she is."

"Yeah, I know exactly how she is," you shot back, your voice filled with bitterness. "She treats me like I’m nothing, like I don’t deserve to be part of the family. And what do you do? You just sit there and let it happen. Every time, Kal. You let her walk all over me. You’ve never stood up for me. Not once."

Kal shook his head, his voice rising with frustration. "She’s sick, y/n. She’s got cancer, for God’s sake. What do you want me to do? Start a fight with her?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, the anger coursing through your veins. "Oh, I’m well aware of her illness, Kal. I’m the one paying for her medical bills, remember? While you sit around feeling sorry for yourself, I’m the one footing the bill for everything—including your mother’s treatment."

Kal’s face darkened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of your words.

"You think I don’t know that?" Kal finally said, his voice low and hard. "You think I don’t know how much you’ve been doing? But you act like I’m just sitting here doing nothing—"

"Because you are," you interrupted, your voice shaking with frustration. "I’ve been carrying this entire relationship, this entire household, on my back, Kal. I’m the one working late nights, paying the bills, covering your mother’s medical expenses. And what do I get in return? I get ignored. I get disrespected. And you never say a word."

Kal’s mouth tightened, his jaw clenching. "That’s not fair, y/n."

"Fair?" you laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "You want to talk about fair? Let’s talk about how your mother treated me tonight. Let’s talk about how she favors Jenna, how she’s been making it clear from day one that she thinks Jenna is the one who should be with you, not me. And you just let it happen. You’ve never defended me."

Kal stayed quiet, his silence speaking volumes.

"Do you have any idea what it felt like to sit there and watch her treat me like an outsider?" you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "And then to see Jenna sitting next to you, acting all smug like she had won some kind of prize? I felt humiliated, Kal. Your own mother made me feel like I didn’t belong, and you just sat there and did nothing."

Kal exhaled slowly, his shoulders tense as he kept his eyes on the road. "You’re blowing this out of proportion."

"Am I?" You crossed your arms, shaking your head in disbelief. "You think I didn’t notice Jenna’s smug little looks? The way she leaned in close to you all night like I wasn’t even there? And you didn’t push her away. You didn’t even try. You just let her take my place."

Kal’s hands tightened on the steering wheel again, the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to find the words. But all that came out was a strained, "Mom just wanted her to feel included. She’s going through a lot too."

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Jenna? What exactly is Jenna going through, Kal? Because from where I’m standing, she seems to have everything she wants. She’s got your mom wrapped around her finger, and apparently, she’s got you too. The only person who’s being left out here is me."

Kal shot you a frustrated look, his voice low and hard. "You’re making it sound like something it’s not. Jenna’s just a friend, y/n."

"A friend," you repeated, your voice filled with disbelief. "Right. A friend who’s always there, who always just happens to be the one sitting next to you, while I get pushed aside. A friend who your mother clearly thinks should’ve been your wife instead of me. And you don’t see a problem with that?"

Kal opened his mouth to argue, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. The car fell silent again, the tension thick and suffocating. You could feel the frustration building inside you, the weight of everything you’d been holding back threatening to spill over.

"You didn’t even say anything, Kal," you said quietly, your voice trembling with hurt. "You didn’t defend me. Not once. You let your mother treat me like I was nothing, like I didn’t even matter. And then you sat there, letting Jenna take my place, like it didn’t matter either."

Kal’s face softened, but the tension in his body remained. "It’s not that simple, y/n. You know Mom’s sick. I don’t want to make things harder for her."

"And what about making things harder for me?" you asked, your voice breaking. "What about all the times I’ve had to sit there and pretend like I’m okay, while your mother treats me like I’m not good enough? While Jenna sits there like she’s the one who belongs next to you, and I’m just… there, watching it all happen?"

Kal sighed, his frustration evident. "I don’t want to fight about this. Not now."

"Of course, you don’t," you muttered, turning your gaze back to the window. "You never do."

Arriving Home

The tension didn’t lift as you pulled into the driveway. Kal parked the car, but neither of you moved to get out. You sat there for a long moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between you.

Eventually, you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the car, the cool night air hitting your skin as you walked toward the front door. Kal followed, his footsteps heavy behind you.

Inside, the silence was oppressive. You kicked off your shoes, feeling the exhaustion settle into your bones. Kal dropped his keys onto the counter with a loud clatter, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Do you even care anymore?" Kal’s voice was quiet, but the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You turned to face him, your heart aching. "Of course I care, Kal. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of feeling like I’m fighting for this marriage alone. I’m tired of the jealousy, the insecurity, the constant feeling that I’m not enough for you or your family."

Kal’s expression softened, but the tension lingered in the air.

His shoulders slumped as he spoke again, his voice quieter, weighed down with emotion. "You’re not the one who’s not enough, y/n. It’s me. I’ve lost everything, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. I feel useless—like I’m failing you, failing us. And every day, I wake up wondering if you’re going to wake up one morning and realize you deserve better."

You stared at him, the anger in your chest replaced by something more complex. You weren’t sure if it was pity, frustration, or just plain exhaustion. But as much as you wanted to reach out and soothe his insecurities, part of you resented that you had to constantly reassure him while getting nothing in return.

The weight of being the one holding everything together had become too much, and it was starting to show in cracks that you couldn’t ignore.

"I’ve never wanted better, Kal," you said quietly, trying to find some semblance of peace between you. "I just wanted us. And it seems like I'm the only one fighting for that."

Kal didn’t respond. He looked down at his hands, his fingers flexing in frustration. You could tell he was struggling to find the words, but the silence stretched on, filling the room with an emptiness that felt almost unbearable.

Eventually, you both retreated into your own spaces. Kal moved toward the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh, while you made your way upstairs, your legs heavy with the weight of the conversation. The house was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock and the low hum of the fridge downstairs.

Upstairs - Private Reflection

Once you reached the bedroom, you closed the door softly behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you exhaled. The argument with Kal had drained you, but your mind kept drifting back to the dinner—specifically, to Dhan. You crossed the room, slipping out of your clothes and into something more comfortable, trying to shake the lingering tension in your body.

But the memory of Dhan’s face, the way his voice had wrapped around you like a comforting presence, kept resurfacing in your thoughts. It felt wrong, but at the same time, it felt like something you couldn’t push away. The way he had looked at you, the depth in his eyes—it had stirred something inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You moved toward the nightstand, where the bottle of wine Dhan had sent was still sitting. The sleek glass shimmered under the soft light of the lamp, and you reached out to pick it up, turning it over in your hands. Your fingertips traced the curve of the bottle, your mind replaying the brief conversation you’d had with him outside the restaurant.

He had made you feel seen. Not like Kal, whose eyes often slid past you or were fixated on his own worries. Dhan had looked at you like he understood the weight you carried, like he knew the exhaustion behind your smile. And for a moment, you had felt something you hadn’t felt in years—important.

Your lips curled into a faint smile as you recalled how handsome he was. There had been a quiet confidence about him, something magnetic that drew you in without effort. His eyes, dark and intense, had lingered on you in a way that sent shivers down your spine. And that voice—low, smooth, full of meaning—it had felt like he was speaking directly to your soul.

You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of the thoughts that threatened to take hold. This wasn’t right. You were married. You couldn’t afford to let your mind wander like this, not when things were already so strained with Kal. But it was hard not to think about the contrast. The way Dhan had made you feel versus the constant strain of your marriage.

As you examined the bottle more closely, you noticed a loose piece of the label sticking out slightly near the bottom. Your fingers brushed over it, and you carefully tugged at the corner. The piece of paper lifted away, revealing something hidden underneath.

Your breath caught in your throat as you pulled the small slip of paper free. Written in elegant, neat handwriting was a phone number—Dhan’s phone number. It was tucked under the label so subtly that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t been looking closely.

For a moment, you just stared at the number, your heart racing in your chest. You hadn’t expected this. The wine had already been a surprise, but this felt… different. More intentional. Dhan had left you his number, knowing full well the implications. He wanted you to call him.

Your mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Part of you knew you shouldn’t even be considering it. You were married, after all. But another part of you—the part that felt neglected, tired, unseen—was tempted. Because Dhan had made you feel something. Something real. And after so long of feeling nothing but exhaustion and resentment, that feeling was intoxicating.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the piece of paper still clutched in your hand. The soft light of the room cast a warm glow around you, but inside, you felt conflicted and torn. You didn’t know what you wanted, or rather, you knew but didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

The sound of Kal moving downstairs broke the quiet, and you were reminded of the argument, of the hurtful things said, and the unresolved tension that hung between you and your husband. The weight of your responsibilities—his mother’s medical bills, the household, your marriage—pressed down on you.

But Dhan… Dhan felt like a breath of fresh air. He felt like a reminder that you were more than the weight you carried, more than the woman who paid the bills and endured silent dinners.

For a moment, you let yourself imagine it—what it would be like to call him. What it would be like to hear his voice again, to maybe feel some of that lightness you had felt when he had stood beside you outside the restaurant. To be seen, to be heard, to be wanted.

But then you folded the piece of paper, slipping it into the drawer of your nightstand.

Not tonight. Not yet.

You climbed into bed, the soft sheets brushing against your skin as you laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The room was silent, but your mind wasn’t. It was full of the night’s events, of the lingering frustration with Kal, and the quiet allure of something new and different.

As you closed your eyes, your last thoughts were of Dhan. Of his eyes on you, his voice in your ear, and the weight of that small piece of paper in your drawer—a temptation waiting in the winds, just out of reach.

Dhan’s Suite

Dhan Tae-Oh leaned back in the plush leather seat of his chauffeured car, his gaze fixed on the city lights flickering past the window. The skyline of Chicago stretched out before him, a sea of twinkling lights that seemed almost insignificant compared to the thoughts racing through his mind. The events of the evening replayed in his head, each moment punctuated by the image of you.

He had nearly given up hope. Five centuries of searching, reincarnations filled with wealth and power, yet each life had been a quest for something he could never fully grasp. Tonight, though, fate had offered him a chance—a chance to find you again, even if you didn’t remember him. The pain that had haunted him for so long felt oddly lessened by this small, miraculous twist of destiny.

Purchasing the Wine

Immediately after his conversation with you, Dhan had felt a surge of urgency. He needed to do something, to make a gesture that would show you how much he was still captivated by you. As he walked back into the restaurant, he approached a waiter who was just finishing setting up a table nearby.

“Excuse me,” Dhan said, catching the waiter’s attention. “Could you recommend a wine? I need something exceptional—a gift for a charming old friend of mine.”

The waiter’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he nodded with a courteous smile. “Of course, sir. May I ask what kind of impression you’d like to make? Something classic and elegant, or perhaps something bold and memorable?”

Dhan thought for a moment. “I’d like something classic, but with a touch of luxury. It should reflect my admiration accordingly.”

The waiter considered this, then led Dhan to a display of premium wines. “This bottle,” he said, holding up an opulent vintage, “is our finest. It’s rich, sophisticated, and perfect for a meaningful gift.”

Dhan nodded, accepting the bottle with appreciation. He took a small slip of paper from his pocket and carefully tucked it beneath the paper label of the wine—a slip with his phone number scrawled on it. “Please deliver this to the table where she’s sitting. Make sure it’s a surprise.”

The waiter took the bottle, understanding the gravity of the gesture. “I’ll ensure it’s delivered as requested.”

In the Suite

Now, in the solitude of his suite, Dhan’s thoughts turned inward. He paced the room, his sharp features cast in shadows by the soft moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His reflection in the glass looked somber, a mixture of satisfaction and melancholy.

He thought about you—how beautiful you had looked, even with the strain of the evening weighing on you.

You had been surrounded by people who, from his perspective, had treated you poorly. Your husband’s neglect, the favoritism towards Jenna—it had all stirred something fierce within him. He couldn’t help but feel a possessive anger at the way you had been treated, an anger that simmered just below the surface.

“They don’t deserve you,” he muttered aloud, his voice low and edged with bitterness. “How could they treat you like that? As if you’re just another accessory to their lives.”

Dhan walked over to the window, gazing out at the moonlit sky. The moon hung high, a silent witness to his thoughts and feelings. “You deserve so much more than that,” he continued, almost as if speaking directly to you. “So much more than they can give you.”

The memory of your face, your voice, the way you had looked at him with a mix of curiosity and restraint—it was all-consuming. He felt a pang of sadness that you didn’t remember him, that his presence had only been a fleeting moment in your life. But this was not a barrier to him; it was a challenge. He would be patient. He would wait until the time was right, until you remembered the bond that had once been so strong.

The moonlight seemed to mock him with its indifference, but it also felt like a beacon guiding him. He raised his eyes to the sky, a faint smile touching his lips as he asked rhetorically, “Are you thinking of me, y/n? I can feel it. I know you are. Even if you don’t remember me yet, there’s a part of you that senses the connection.”

Dhan’s voice was soft but resolute. “I’ll stop at nothing until you are mine again,” he said, his gaze never leaving the moon. “I’ll do whatever it takes to remind you of us, to remind you of the love we shared. And when you remember, when you finally realize who I am, I’ll be here. Waiting. Ready.”

He turned away from the window, his thoughts focused on the future. The night had only just begun, and the path to reclaiming your heart was long. But Dhan was determined. His resolve was unshakable, and he would stop at nothing to ensure that you were his once more.

[hwadam-stories]

𝟏𝟏 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 (18 APR. 2024)

ㅤㅤ┍⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ · · · ·

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPERSONNALISATION : ★★★★★

ㅤㅤㅤㅤDIFFICULTÉ : ★☆☆☆☆

ㅤㅤ · · · · ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯┛

𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 extrêmement simple et personnalisable, le format 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 a de nombreux avantages comme la possibilité d'écrire autant que possible dans les catégories dédiées sur le modèle ⎯⎯⎯ une véritable révolution pour les grands bavards que vous pouvez être. seul inconvénient : les plus esthétiques d'entre nous pourrons trouver une certaine frustration dans les limites de personnalisation du format 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 puisqu'il est très difficile de manier le déplacement des images en dehors des tableaux. il est néanmoins très utile pour les débutants en matière de gdocs puisqu'il se focalise d'avantage sur le côté pratique de l'application plutôt que sur son côté créatif. quoiqu'il est toujours possible de faire preuve de personnalité avec 𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 si l'on est suffisamment imaginatif...

note de stavroguine : j'ai rajouté sur ce 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 de nombreuses catégories pour ceux et celles qui souhaiteraient enrichir leur fiche. cela passe évidemment par la présence d'un registre de liens, d'une trivia et d'un moodboard, mais également d'une icône musicale personnalisable qui amène à un lien spotify, youtube, etc.

ㅤㅤ 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑬 ;

ㅤㅤ┍⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ · · · ·

ㅤㅤㅤㅤGO TO FILE

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAND THEN, SELECT “MAKE A COPY”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤDON’T REMOVE THE CREDITS.

ㅤㅤ · · · · ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯┛

ㅤㅤ 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘&𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗦 are appreciated.

[hwadam-stories]

𝟏𝐎 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 (20 SEP. 2023)

ㅤㅤ┍⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ · · · ·

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPERSONNALISATION : ★★★★★

ㅤㅤㅤㅤDIFFICULTÉ : ★★☆☆☆

ㅤㅤ · · · · ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯┛

𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 extrêmement simple et personnalisable, le format 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 a de nombreux avantages comme la possibilité d'écrire autant que possible dans les catégories dédiées sur le modèle ⎯⎯⎯ une véritable révolution pour les grands bavards que vous pouvez être. seul inconvénient : les plus esthétiques d'entre nous pourrons trouver une certaine frustration dans les limites de personnalisation du format 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 puisqu'il est très difficile de manier le déplacement des images en dehors des tableaux. contrairement aux apparences, ce modèle est relativement personnalisable, à condition d'avoir quelques skills (minimes) pour placer son personnage là où se trouve tamino sur les images ci-dessus. des solutions s'offrent à vous : ➪ vos bases en graphisme vous octroient la possibilité de passer par l'intermédiaire d'une plateforme comme photoshop, etc. dans ce cas là, il devrait être simple comme bonjour de détourer votre OC pour le placer sur 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍. ➪ comme moi (salut), vous n'avez aucune connaissance en graphisme. néophyte de niveau 1, le choix de la facilité nous a été donné grâce à l'évolution des technologies et notamment des I.A. qui nous permettent de détourer en un clin d'œil un objet dans une image. pratique, n'est-ce pas ? il est néanmoins très utile pour les débutants en matière de gdocs puisqu'il se focalise d'avantage sur le côté pratique de l'application plutôt que sur son côté créatif. quoiqu'il est toujours possible de faire preuve de personnalité avec 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 si l'on est suffisamment imaginatif...

note de stavroguine : j'ai rajouté sur ce 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 de nombreuses catégories pour ceux et celles qui souhaiteraient enrichir leur fiche. cela passe évidemment par la présence d'un registre de liens, d'une trivia et d'un moodboard, mais également d'une icône musicale personnalisable qui amène à un lien spotify, youtube, etc.

ㅤㅤ 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑬 ;

ㅤㅤ┍⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ · · · ·

ㅤㅤㅤㅤGO TO FILE

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAND THEN, SELECT “MAKE A COPY”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤDON’T REMOVE THE CREDITS.

ㅤㅤ · · · · ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯┛

ㅤㅤ 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘&𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗦 are appreciated.

[hwadam-stories]

0.1 ━━━━ history is written by the victors.

i've decided to start posting on tumblr, so this is a new beggining! i've had this doc idea for a while, and i'd like for it to be an indicative of what i can do. ❝ history is written by the victors ❞ is a text-heavy, single-muse google doc, that has a variety of links & a few images. it's very obviously centered around finnick odair, and I hope that the doc has managed to capture at least some of his essence.

about the use go to file, then select make a copy. do not remove the credit, please. turn off the ability to make a copy before using it. like & reblog this post if you are going to use it.

likes & reblogs are appreciated!

access the document · ━━ ˊ * 𝐇��𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘...

[hwadam-stories]

ii . 𝖆𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝒾𝔫 𝔞 ཞ𝖊۷𝖊ཞ𝔦𝖊 [ <- free link ] ii . 𝖆𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝒾𝔫 𝔞 ཞ𝖊۷𝖊ཞ𝔦𝖊 [ <- mobile friendly link ]

Enjoy the template. This sheet is one I just decided to whip up out of boredom. The initial sheet does use very, very few drawings, but I've also included a mobile friendly version without them.

*Do not remove the credit.

Since everyone was so kind and generous with the first template I posted, have another! This one is slightly smaller than my usual, but who doesn't like concise? P.S. I will not approve any requests to edit the template. Just make a copy and you have your own. Tea and biscuits, 𝕾𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝕶𝔦𝔫𝔤

[hwadam-stories]

006: Love Letters !

introducing. . . , Love letters , a google doc character template inspired by the holiday: valentines day! The doc holds three landscape pages. It includes spots for the profile, persona, backstory and 4 spots for additional information.

( !!! ) make sure to credit me! in order to do that, keep my @ at the bottom of the first page!

HOW TO USE ! ◞ . . . most of the drawing are made up of drawings, to make it simple, use the replace image option. There is also one quote made up of a drawing, which the text can be easily replaced for pc users. ◞ . . . the doc would look good with any kind of pictures, though I will say the color theme shouldn't be changed as the png's wont be able to change colors. ◞ . . . If you have any questions, please ask! ◞ . . . I'm not sure of the models name, but here's where I got the photos. ◞ . . . download here

[hwadam-stories]

012 :: DILIGENCE

april was tortured poets department month so this is a month or two overdue. but i was inspired to create a doc perfect for writer characters! ink spills and coffee stains, isn't it a little reminiscent of colder months even if it's nearing summer? it's cozy, beige, and was utterly lovely to create.

how to use :

— go to file & select make a copy.

— don't remove or modify the credit.

— before using, turn off the ability to make a copy.

— likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

how to edit :

— edit however you want, but some elements will get moved if you go beyond the text amount.

— what you'll receive upon purchasing is a pdf file with the link and other detailed instructions on how to use. 

DOWNLOAD HERE.

[hwadam-stories]

【II】 ANGELIC ABSENCE

a white angelic-themed free docs. this template can range from singular/multi-muse muse docs to lore docs. feel free to copy and paste the pages including the breaker page to increase the length. it includes six pages including the breaker page and can hold at least 800 words minimum.

do not get rid of credits — if you don't know how to edit already: file > make a copy — after copying, go to share > settings (top right icon) > uncheck "viewers and commenters can see the option to…" — to replace images: right-click image > replace image — dm me if you have any questions

[hwadam-stories]

— introducing 015: PRIVATE EYE + [ link ]

a warm, nostalgic google doc template inspired by private detectives, and crime investigation! this template follows the collection of information on your muse from the lens of a private detective, through things such as letters, newspapers and official medical documents. this template features space for long writing as well! this premium template and a full page-by-page preview can be found in the link above or in the source link.

features:

8 unique 14" x 8.5" pages, all with hand-crafted full-page background images

short and long sections, an extra long backstory section, and multiple spaces for pictures

a large array of thematic page types and elements — letters, post-it notes, newspaper clippings, and evidence sheet which can be used to include ooc information or give more atmospheric depth to the template

some elements (muse pictures, text on backing post-it notes, date on envelope, and items in evidence ziploc bag) that can be customized in google drawings

terms of use:

you may edit to your heart’s desire. Change the colours, replace, add or remove elements and images etc.

you may remix pages with pages from my other templates.

you may not remove the credit from the templates.

you may not copy, sell or redistribute my templates whether wholesale, in part (i.e. taking out certain pages) or remixed (i.e. modified).

you will also receive an additional guide with images on how to use and edit google doc templates! if you have any problems or issues, feel free to leave an ask or join our discord server.

this was so much fun to make, but took so much time to put together. I'm really proud of it so I I hope you like it! as always, I appreciate all your likes + reblogs. ♡