#I love this one as I do because it reflects exactly how childish he is: | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovieku · 6 months ago

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GOOD LUCK, BABE! #2 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 9k +

☾ warnings: alcohol consumption. explicit language. underage drinking. this whole thing is fluff vibes imo. like jk is just a little loser who misses his best friend. gureum debut! i love this dog so much he deserves his own one shot.

☾ author’s note: hello !!! i hope this chapter isnt too slow for u guys.. i like this pace tho! we r starting to get to know our ggukkie better. but we’ll get to eunbi too! oh also, theres little hints that help understanding the timeline of the whole story so 👩🏻‍💻 thank u for ur time!!

ps : dal = moon in korean; boreumdal = full moon in korean. it’ll be useful as you read hehe.. ok bye!

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two ⋆ ribs

The first time Jeongguk got drunk, it was with his best friend. At the age of 15, the number of coming-of-age movies he had consumed with her by his side was more than he could count on both his hands and feet, never having enough of getting lost in a world that seemed so entrancing yet far. Not only because his age wasn’t exactly the one depicted in those films, but mainly because Busan didn’t offer such scenarios. Jeongguk was continuously inspired by those, so much so that he’s confident when admitting it was exactly that genre which got him to take directing and film production not only as a silly dream, but as an ambition. No matter how crazy it sounded to everybody’s ears, he wanted to follow that path, because only then he could translate his wild and eager imagination into somewhat of a concrete, tangible reality.

Having Eunbi by his side was only a bonus. At the end of every movie, after impatiently but silently waiting for the credits to roll (she knew Jeongguk took those very seriously, almost as a ritual), she would vomit every single thought she had harboured regarding what she had just watched and Jeongguk felt seen. His same hunger was reflected in his best friend’s eyes, and words, and passionate gestures when yearning for those experiences. The only difference was that, if Jeongguk was content with only jotting down their endless brainstorming after a long session of movie watching for future ideas that he hoped he could bring to the big screen, Eunbi was longing to bring those to life.

”I really wanna get drunk,” she whined in the older boy’s ears while munching on some remaining snacks, attentively observing Jeongguk’s skilled hand doodling what looked like two people watching the sunset on a beach. With time, he got used to staying focused on whatever task he was leading even with the girl going on about whatever passed her mind, but this time he released a chuckle and let his pencil roll down the couch, shifting his attention to his sulky friend.

“Why would you want that?” He said with a curiously amused expression, entertained by the pout on the girl’s face while she took his sketchbook and delicately traced the beer bottles he had scribbled earlier.

10 Things I Hate About You had been the current topic of discussion, being the last of three movies they had watched that afternoon and the one that Eunbi liked more. She couldn’t stop geeking about how cool Kat was and how she wanted to be her when she grew up. Jeongguk thought her little moment of admiration was funny, and let her go about it, “Everybody says it’s bad for your health and bla, bla, then why would they make it look so exciting?”

For the first time since their five years of friendship, Jeongguk thought of himself as the more rational one of the pair. Even if older (by one year), he had always been a bit childish around her and seemed to need his best friend to scold him with her witty, book-obsessed vocabulary. Thus, saying he was surprised by Eunbi’s claims would be an understatement. It was like the roles had switched when he said, “Well, it’s fiction. It’s supposed to be exciting.”

In response, he got the same glare he would reserve for her anytime she would tell him off for his immature behaviour, with an addition of an eye roll and an even sulkier expression, emphasised by her crossed arms. The boy giggled at her disappointment and snatched his sketchbook back from her hands, retrieving the pencil from where it had been buried under the cushions so he could resume his earlier activity.

However, the sudden silence was unsettling. It gave him a moment to realise he had never really been surrounded by quiet when hanging out with his neighbour. The Converse-lover girl would always fill any empty space with words, thoughts, songs, even random sounds made with her mouth, or hands. He was not sure if he should be thankful for such unusuality or if he should search for hints that could be hidden behind her odd quietude.

He went for the latter, and he was proved right when he lifted his head from his drawing and found his friend torturing her lower lip with her front teeth, staring into the void with narrowed thinking eyes. When she noticed his gaze on her, she exchanged eye contact and, unable to hide it longer, a mischievous smirk made its way to her mouth. Jeongguk shook his head, “You’re not seriously considering-“

”I’m just saying!” Her talkative self was back, sitting cross-legged on the couch and fully facing Jeongguk, trying to get him to direct his whole attention to her, “Dancing on a table seems fun…”

Jeongguk scoffed, amused by the way this one movie seemed to have had a huge impact on Eunbi’s running imagination, which he was very familiar with but, as he was having this conversation, he doubted if there was more he needed to discover, “Do you realise Kat was about to fall-“

”And! Got saved by hot Heath Ledger. Twice!” Jeongguk was used to being interrupted, especially when the conversation was about one of the girl’s favourite topics. He didn’t know Heath Ledger was on that list, though. He frowned, “You think he’s hot?”

Her response was as simple as a Duh!, making the boy feel stupid for questioning what seemed to be an ultimate truth. He rolled his eyes and went back to doodling meaningless details that would complete the image that had been clouding his mind, only for his shoulder to be shaken by a whiny Eunbi, “That was not the point. I’m telling you I wanna drink alcohol.”

Jeongguk snorted, taken aback by the unexpected outburst of confidence, then widened his already big eyes at her, signalling to quiet down, “My mom is literally in the next room.” That only got the daring girl to shrug her shoulders, eyebrows raised, and expecting an answer to her admission.

The older one sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and contemplating. His meditation was interrupted by his determined friend rocking his body back and forth by the sleeve of his t-shirt, in hopes of getting what she wanted. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but figured Jeongguk could find a solution for her. Said boy tried to get the constant pulling to stop, only when it wouldn’t he could only lightly push the younger one away, knowing it would cause a huge reaction. And not even three seconds after, she laid down and acted as if her arm was broken, and her whole body severely injured, faking cries and whines. Jeongguk laughed, “What do you want me to do? Where would I even get it?”

It’s like she was waiting for that exact question, because the moment it was asked her acting immediately came to an end, as she lifted her body up again and sat straight on her heels, “Your dad has a whole collection of random bottles. He won’t notice if one is missing.” The quick response sounded strangely rehearsed, and Jeongguk furrowed his brows.

A smile danced on his lips at seeing his best friend trying not to break too and instead maintain a serious composure, wanting to make her intentions clear and unmoved. Jeongguk was surprised at her sudden resolution, figuring it must not have been so sudden after all, ”How long were you keeping this inside?”

”Literally forever,” she eventually broke, releasing a long breath, her body bending down with it but then regaining its straight posture, resuming her Convincing-BFF-To-Get-Drunk plan, “Movie was the last straw. Please Ggukkie?” She mustered her best puppy eyes and Jeongguk narrowed his, unbelieving of all the tactics she was using to get to her goal.

”No.” He strangely managed to sound firm, despite Eunbi insisting and now deepening her pout, making it hard for the boy to deny her request, “Dad will kill me.”

”I’m sure he won’t notice,” the way she was talking made it sound like she knew exactly what needed to be done, as if she was explaining something as obvious as Heath Ledger being hot. The look in her best friend’s eyes, however, let her know he wasn’t fully on her side yet, so she came up with something unexpected even to herself, as proved by her dubious expression after uttering out, “I will also steal a few beers from mom.”

Jeongguk fully broke out laughing then, nose scrunching and eyes squeezing, hand over his belly while muttering something close to You’re insane, and that went on for a minute, the reaction carrying at seeing his neighbour being as serious as ever, not even hinting a smile (even if she was doing her best to suppress it).

When the chuckles eventually came to an end, the brown-haired boy shook his head and went back to his drawing, leaving the girl incredulous at being ignored like that by who she thought would always be her Number One Supporter. She gasped, mouth hanging. Jeongguk smirked amusedly, seeing her through his peripheral vision, “What?”

The younger one whined and fussed on the couch, impatient with Jeongguk being seemingly impossible to convince but stubborn with wanting to make him agree. When not even her begging worked, going ignored as everything else she was doing, she sat silently just following Jeongguk’s hand on the paper. The boy thought it was over, until Eunbi let her mind speak again, this time more spontaneously, “You know, this thing you’re drawing, it could be reality. Not just film reality, I’m talking about us two drunk on the Busan beach, enjoying everything it has to offer. Can you really resist it?”

Eyebrows wiggling and a mischievous smile on her face, Jeongguk knew he was being difficult just because, the idea of getting drunk with his best friend had sounded inviting right from the start. Little by little, he was breaking, still hesitating when he admitted, ”Busan beach doesn’t sound that exciting but… Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

At that, the girl’s eyes went sparkling, hopeful of finally winning her battle, ”That would be suuuper cool! C’mon, Ggukkie.”

Her hands were back on his shoulder, shaking him with less vigour this time but still making the boy giggle, “How would that even work-“

”We sneak out.” Once again, her rapid reply sounded so sure, it almost scared Jeongguk. He wanted to laugh again, but something in the girl’s expression made him hold back, slowly being persuaded by her convincing tactics, “I got everything planned. Let’s put the movie brainstorming aside and keep the get-drunk plan brainstorming going and I’ll tell you exactly how we’ll move through it.”

Jeongguk hesitated. The light in her eyes made him put the doubts to the side, ”Alright.”

That same night, they put the plan into action. It wasn’t too thought-out, but Eunbi had a way with words that made anything sound magical and captivating, just as those directors Jeongguk admired could depict their young age in a way too fascinating vision. They had decided to sneak out of their windows at 1 a.m., and before that, they would get their hands on what they had agreed and figured would get them drunk enough: whatever hard liquor attracted the boy more out of his dad’s collection, and two beer bottles from Eunbi’s fridge.

Both of them were clumsy with their actions. If they had to complete this initial part being together, the whole plan would have failed with how much one would have laughed at the other, and vice versa. Jeongguk made the bottle clink with another, while his best friend in the house next to his closed the fridge too hard, causing uncalled-for noise. The sounds were amplified by the quiet of the night, making the youngsters awkwardly stand still for a second, terror-stricken in hopes they wouldn’t get caught. What followed after was hastily placing the contents in their backpack and waiting some more by their window, ensuring no odd movement was heard from their parents’ room. When everything seemed under control, they nimbly climbed out, landing on their feet.

The first to appear outside was the younger one. With every fast and speedy beat of her heart, she felt it coming up her throat. All her senses were ten times stronger at that moment, and she could feel a jittery sensation travel through her whole body, running in her veins and seemingly unstoppable. She tried to, by harshly biting her lip and clasping a hand over her chest. Where the heck was Jeongguk? And why was she so cold? She wished telepathy existed, as she hoped with all her might that her friend had brought a jacket she could steal.

When a minute passed and there was no sight of the older boy, she felt utterly betrayed, and tried to come up with any excuse that could justify Jeongguk’s delay: there were none. If she could make noises she would whine, both the cold and the wait being unbearable.

Jeongguk appeared seconds later, looking like a deer caught in headlights as his feet landed on the ground with a stomping sound. Eunbi couldn’t help the snort escaping her mouth, quickly clasping a hand over it while the boy made his way to her with big eyes and his pointer finger laying over his lips, demanding absolute silence.

The two didn’t utter a single word until they were at a safe distance from their houses, and when they looked back and noticed how those were becoming smaller with each step they took, the smiles on their faces grew bigger. The girl in her Converses giggled and incredulously shook his friend’s arm, “What. The. Heck. We did it!”

Jeongguk let a nervous chuckle escape his lips, sharing that same excitement mixed with tension that he could feel oozing from his best friend, now hanging from his arm, “We did it. Now, where do we go from here?”

“Trust me, Gguk. I told you I know my way,” once again, the younger one managed to sound convincing enough, and Jeongguk let himself put his whole trust in her, too agitated to argue. However, Eunbi expertly noticed the unusual edginess in her friend’s nodding and lost gaze, so using the time it took to get to the beach through the route she knew best, she let out every single thought that passed her mind. Just as the dynamic between them was often like, but this time it served as a way to distract Jeongguk; and it did. The boy chuckled there and then at various comments, adding to them too. He laughed loudly when Eunbi admitted she brought some strawberries and water, just in case, and called her a dumbass. They then proceeded to have a meaningless argument about it, all while he took note of how the girl’s skin seemed to prickle with the soft wind, and laid his hoodie on her shoulders. They had a subtle way of caring about each other, which nonetheless never went unnoticed, but still not really mentioned.

1 a.m. was dark, darker than they’d ever witnessed, and if it wasn’t for the tall buildings behind them, the beach would have been completely surrounded by obscurity. The closer they got to the sea, the more the moon also helped reduce such blackness, with its light reflecting in the water. The pair sat down on the sand, picking the spot they had claimed as theirs during one of their many beach days on the hottest days of summer. There wasn’t much talking now, both of them eager to start the final and main part of the plan, but none of the two brave enough to break the seal.

Eunbi wrapped herself around Jeongguk’s hoodie, her knees to her chest and her chin to her knees, observing the boy sitting by her side with a playful smile dancing on her lips. Her nose scrunched tenderly when he reciprocated it, and her voice was suddenly small, “You want a strawberry?”

”You dragged me all the way over here to eat strawberries?” He chuckled at the girl’s out-of-character embarrassment and lightly shoved her shoulder, getting a lively giggle out of her. She shrugged, putting up her best innocent act, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jeongguk didn’t say anything while he unzipped his backpack and took the main character of the night out, a bottle of Absolut Vodka, the one that had scared the boy less out of the whole collection, its liquid clear like water and seemingly free from danger. Who knows, maybe it also tastes like water.

He was proved wrong not much later, when he brought his mouth to the rim and gulped the first sip, its burning taste firing up his throat, then extending to his chest and finding home in his stomach. Jeongguk emitted a loud groan, eyes squeezing shut with the force of the foreign feeling, and distanced himself from the bottle to cough. The younger one had watched the whole scene with big eyes, unconsciously following every movement of his with her head, attentively studying his reaction and then laughing at his disgusted expression. She stole the bottle from his hands and repeated the same actions.

Unexpectedly, she accepted the sensation much better than the older one, only shaking her head fast in hopes the liquid would go down rapidly, and then taking another huge gulp right after. Jeongguk snatched the bottle from her hold to clasp it to his chest, his brows furrowed, “Woah, slow down there.”

”If I focus on how shit it tastes, I will never get drunk. Let me finish it,” her eagerness triggered Jeongguk’s competitive side, bringing him to swallow down a bigger amount than he had seen her sip, gulping loudly and then standing still, as if to prove a point. See? It doesn’t affect me either, that’s what his eyes were screaming. Of course, Eunbi didn’t back out, a silent race starting between the two the moment she claimed the bottle again and looked him right in the eyes while drinking. Jeongguk laughed too loudly, but he couldn’t control it, “That’s how it is?”

In between sneers and roasts, the competition went on until Eunbi announced her whole world was spinning, and the liquid covered a little less than half of the bottle. Jeongguk felt irrational contentment brimming his mind, making his body feel light yet still shaken by adrenaline. Unlike his friend, he could at least form coherent sentences, though. He had regulated the amount of alcohol he was ingesting, so that he could ensure one of them could still lucidly operate in case anything happened. He had also pulled the bottle away from Eunbi’s mouth multiple times whenever she would overdo the quantity she was drinking, but he figured it still affected her way more than it did him.

Indeed, a whole 10 minutes had passed of her munching on those strawberries she just had to take with her while walking in circles around Jeongguk’s sitting figure. Before going on that ritual-like path, she had also tried one of the two canned beers, and the littlest sip of it had made her declare it as the worst beverage on earth. Jeongguk didn’t mind it, surely liked it more than the clear vodka, but made sure to empty the opened can and hide the other in his backpack, in case his very tipsy friend wanted to try some more.

From his sitting position, he looked at her grinning when she would share bitten pieces of the red fruit with him, while still keeping up the constant walking and the random babbling. In the midst of it, she would also laugh to herself, and then resume her muttering, making the boy laugh as well with no exact knowledge of what she was saying. He just went along with it, didn’t get what was so funny but figured he was too tipsy to entertain meaningful conversation.

As he kept observing her, he saw her look up at the sky, the movement too fast for her spinny head, “Ouch.” She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly reopened them, only to be welcomed by black patches appearing and disappearing from her vision. Then, the starry sky is what she saw; the moon was next. She laughed at that too, spinning around a few times with her arms wide open.

Jeongguk does find a reason to laugh along with her now, his friend acting too silly his heart feels content just watching her, ”You look so dumb. What are you even doing?”

Giggles are her first response, followed by her suddenly sitting down on the sand, on the spot next to him. Jeongguk noticed some of the strawberry juice had dripped down her chin, so he cleaned it carefully with his thumb until there was none. She hiccuped, “Gguk, I think- I think I love the moon.” The sudden admission was out of context, but he accepted it. A little over an hour had gone by at that point, but once again she assumed the position she was in when they first arrived, knees to her chest and chin to her knees, with that same soft smile directed at him, only with sleepier eyes.

With the hand that was already close to her face, the older one moved some of the locks that were blocking her vision, then gently placed them behind her ear. He melted at the pleased expression on her face, her eyes gently closing. Jeongguk had always felt a sense of protection in her regards, just like a brother would to her sister. He wasn’t much older than her, but he still felt like he needed to be someone Eunbi could lean on and look up to. He followed along, nodding, “Yeah? You do look like the moon.” The tender moment seemed to have been interrupted by his comment. Her soft smile was replaced by a frown. Huh? Did he say something wrong?

With Jeongguk seated next to her, she turned to fully face him (the fast movement probably causing her head to hurt again) and furrowed her brows, “You do realise that’s not a compliment,” the same confused expression was now mirrored on her friend’s face, so she kept explaining, “You’re saying my face is round and puffy.”

The boy sitting cross-legged also fussed so he could be directly in front of her, facing the tipsy girl when he smirked, “Your face is round and puffy, Bee.” The grin turned into a full laugh when she hit his shoulder with a stronger force than usual, making him stumble. At that, she shoved him again, intent on making him fall on his back.

”What the hell? No, it’s not.” When she realised how weak alcohol was making her, she backed down from her mission and instead sat on her heels and crossed her arms, annoyed by the stupid smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes, “If anything, you look like a coconut. Fuck you.”

The boy feigned his shock, the act quickly being revealed by his uncontrollable giggles. The alcohol was getting her way sassier, and she was already too mouthy for his liking. Still, he was never intimidated by that, instead living off these moments just to make fun of her and wind her up further, “Should I call you Dal? My little Boreumdal?” His sickeningly sweet mocking voice was aggravated by his tickling under her armpit. She swatted him, “You’re being disgusting. I’ll throw up everything I drank on you.”

”I dare you Dal,” he wiggled his eyebrows and shortly after he figured that was the last teasing comment he could allow himself to throw at her before being pushed fully to the ground this time and receiving harmless punches on his stomach, which made him burst into lively laughter. The sand was getting in his hair and all over his clothes, but he didn’t care, his only goal being winning the nth fight between them, “Ouch, Dal stop-“

“Don’t call me that!” She was fully screaming at him now, her vodka breath fanning over his face while she kept tossing him on the sand, giggling along, “Stupid coconut.” Between laughs and jabs she didn’t realise how close they got, Jeongguk also working his way to free himself from his spot on the ground, resulting in her determined attitude trying to block him by sitting on his stomach and pushing his shoulders down.

However, when she felt his hands on her wrists, the contact triggered sudden awareness in her mind, registering the compromising position they were in, her whole face changing colour. With her movements being haltered, Jeongguk also seemed to notice the quick change in her expression. After a moment of silence, of her staring big-eyed in his starry eyes, a tipsy 15 year old Jeongguk could only come up with, “This is the first time I’m seeing a red moon.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It’s the echo of her voice, yelling Shut up! in his face that startles him awake. When he takes in his surroundings, he relaxes in the bed again. Jeongguk was right when he predicted how hard the simple act of falling asleep would have been, following being so close to the cause of his nightmares after years. He checks the time displayed on his phone, 6:08 a.m. His alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour. Sighing, he’s aware trying to get some more sleep after it had failed to find him would have been useless, reason why he goes on a staring contest with the ceiling.

It becomes a canva for his running mind, which projects the last image that he saw behind his closed eyelids: Eunbi’s face being centimetres to his, her head crowned by a shining white full moon. He’s unconscious of the smile creeping up on his mouth, but when he feels its sides twitch it turns into a deep frown. He hates his own brain for doing this to him, but is also aware the girl coming back so strong and unexpected in his life played a huge role.

It’s not like he was ever confident with the possibility of fully forgetting about her. How does one forget about the moon? But he could still say he had done a great job at keeping her locked in one dark room in the back of his mind; until not more than three months ago, when she showed up beside Dahye, her big smile greeting the rest of the group, but breaking in pieces when she spotted him. Had it been such a disgrace for her?

Jeongguk can’t blame her if she felt like that, because after an initial, very brief moment of surprise, excitement and sparks, he was surrounded by doom. It had been gruelling battling against the kid inside him, probably confused as to why his first instinct wasn’t to hug his Dal. It’s as if that version of him got stuck right in the place he was left, and when he saw her again he wished to pick up from where they had stopped, never having gotten closure. Last night would be an example: the urge to keep an eye out for her, care for her safety. It’s like telling a child Santa Claus isn’t real, and watching his world break. But Jeongguk needed the kid in him to be faced with the truth badly, before a light gets switched on in that dark room of his brain he keeps her in, and next thing he knows she finds the key to open it and escape.

That truth being the fact that everything changes, and people do too. Although, compared to the first time he saw her drunk, he wouldn’t say there were any changes: she would still mutter incoherent nonsense under her breath, and laugh for no apparent reason. And it had the same effect on him, pure amusement and adoration. But this time, he couldn’t let himself indulge in it.

Jeongguk can’t stand his brain being manipulated so easily by his heart, and rather having to sit helpless while witnessing such conflict, he figures he can start his day ahead and get up from his bed. What awaits him is a train journey to Busan in exactly two hours. With summer break starting, he had concluded he could use the most of it to be with his parents, starting by the weekend ahead. He’s fairly excited to be in his hometown again after months, and with the way his mind has been taking him back in time through the memories, he finds it funny how he used to depreciate Busan and fantasise about Seoul, when right now he would do anything to not be surrounded by the capital’s chaos. You truly never know what you have until it’s gone.

Jimin, being also from Busan, had offered to drive him there and go with him, but Jeongguk refused. He’s aware his best friend was just being nice, a leading characteristic of his nature, since he also knows Jimin doesn’t really enjoy being back in his city, and tries to stay away from it as much as he possibly can. The blonde had opened up once to his flatmate, admitting how home wasn’t really that for him. Seoul was his one and only occasion to escape it; he loved it here, and had finally built what felt closest to a home. The fact that Jeongguk is part of it makes his heart swell with joy.

He’s as quiet as ever while he packs the last things in his backpack and exits the flat, making sure the door isn’t shut too loud so as not to wake Jimin, who’s probably going to suffer from the worst hangover as soon as he opens his eyes. Still, the brown haired boy now wearing a baseball hat over his head shoots his friend a text to let him know he’s left the house. A cheeky Don't miss me too much :p is sent after that.

Considering he still has a significant amount of time left before the train leaves (more than he had deduced yesterday, when he had set his alarm at 5 a.m. for 7 a.m. and had gotten even less sleep than that) he picks walking to the station over taking the bus, in fear if he sits anywhere he will fall into deep slumber due to his single hour of sleep and fuck up his whole getaway plan. The walk contributes to waking his senses and shaking off the weariness, his mind finding it especially hard after the previous hours spent in the small suffocating club, swimming in the smell of alcohol and weed, and being surrounded by blasting music.

When he gets to his destination, there’s still 30 minutes left before the train arrives. He sighs while he sits on a bench by the platform, and waits. Two cigarettes later, he figures there’s nothing else he can do but put his earphones to use and play the first album in his recently played. When not even Twenty One Pilots’ Vessel can avert his eyes from batting until they’re slowly closing, Jeongguk forces himself into a staring contest with the nothingness, in hopes the illusion of having to win a fight keeps him awake. Until even then his vision starts to unfocus, and in his zoned out state he feels like passing out on that same bench.

His phone is his last resort, mindless scrolling on social media apparently the only activity capable of avoiding his mind from completely shutting down. When he gets to Instagram, rather than checking the new posts on his feed, he clicks on Dahye’s story popping up as the first one of the list. Stories are a fairly new feature to the app, but he soon came to learn how much his friend loved it, documenting every piece of her life through them. What he didn’t expect, and surely didn’t need, was her recent updates to be a rundown of Eunbi’s recovery from her drunken state last night: firstly, a close up of her baby face, with cheeks covered by smudged mascara and what looked like tears, and a pout so pronounced with furrowed eyebrows; soon after, a sneaky shot of the girl completely bent over the toilet, almost hugging it, Dahye captioning it with her new BFF!; then, an hour later, Eunbi peacefully sleeping surrounded by all sorts of pillows and plushies. Dahye ended the small series with a short apology to her roommate, adding i love u @song_eunbee hehe.

When he realises the unconscious, dumb, stupid, smile on his face, he jerks his head up and shuts his phone, violently shoving it in his sweatpants pocket. Blinking a few times, he also notices how he quite literally almost missed the train, only then registering it had stopped in front of him and was ready to depart again. Jeongguk quickly gathers his stuff and makes his way onto the train, searching for any seat that is close to a window overlooking the outside. He thinks if he can focus on the view for the rest of the ride, he’d be able to shut off the urge to go on a three hour Instagram spiral. He knows he’s so wrong when not even two minutes in, he physically can’t stop his hands from retrieving his phone and looking up song_eunbee on the app’s search bar.

He’s relieved when he clicks on the first account that pops up and finds out it’s not private. In her profile picture her face is half covered by her hand, but the dimple adorning her cheeks doesn’t hide the fact that she’s smiling. He’s welcomed by quite a few posts, varying from landscapes, friends, family, baby photos, random kittens on the streets, club nights, and some selfies. He learns she’s pretty big on Ariana Grande and that she still loves the moon, as confirmed by the crescent moon emoji being the only thing in her bio. He can’t help but foolishly wonder if looking at it at night makes her even subconsciously think of him, and the fact that he kept calling her that nickname even after her protests. A handful of the pictures on her feed portray the moon too, and one of them is captioned with Kat Stratford’s unmistakeable monologue: but mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you; not even close; not even a little bit; not even at all.

Jeongguk was right when he predicted he would be a victim of an Instagram spiral, because for the next hour he studies her posts more attentively, the people she tagged, the people in her comments, the places she visited, the quotes in her captions. He is so consumed by curiosity, and maybe something more (awfully close to envy, anger and misery) that he doesn’t even notice the sleepiness completely dissipating from his body, his mind now running to connect every single pin on the imaginary board his own brain had offered for him to better analyse her account.

Until, after being extremely careful for the entire endless minutes spent on her profile, he accidentally clicks on her story and before he can react, he’s left to stare at the picture until the 15 seconds finish. He blinks. Keeps his eyes shut for a few seconds. Reopens them. Clicks on the story again. Only one side of her face is showing, and beside it it’s her middle finger, on top of it FUCK YOU @dahye.lee96 !!!!!

He shuts off his phone and puts it on his lap, squeezing it in his hand from time to time. He takes deep breaths every one minute. Considers deleting his account, or his whole existence. He doesn’t know what to do with himself now, his eyes closing but not with the intent to sleep. He’s trying to block his flow of thoughts, unsuccessfully.

The incident haunts him for the rest of the trip, causing him to check his phone constantly and contemplating flushing it down the train’s toilet. Only when he sets foot in Busan’s station he’s able to distract himself from it. He sports a boyish smile when he sees his parents’ car parked outside, and bashfully lets himself be coddled by his mom’s praises and his dad’s content grin before driving away. He’s almost 21, most people his age feel too grown for this type of affection, but he will never deny it. That’s enough for him to stop worrying about his earlier slip. It’s still in the back of his mind, though.

Opening the door to his childhood home, he’s greeted by a fawning Gureum, his tail wagging so hard his whole body moves with it. The white Maltese has been the family dog for almost six years now, and giving him a new life after rescuing him from a shelter had cured Jeongguk’s loneliness and heartbreak; he hopes it did the same to the dog. He blocks out all kinds of noises and questions from his mom while he spends the first ten minutes in his house entertaining Gureum’s zoomies, using a sickeningly sweet tone that is only reserved for the small pet. To the point Gureum almost looks like he’s had enough of being called a good boy, feels like he can confidently reply to who’s the best boy ever? with the correct answer. Me! He just barks.

After settling his stuff and catching up with his parents on university and life in Seoul (he doesn’t mention that Eunbi is a new entry in his friend group, yet) he spends the whole morning in between naps, sleepiness eventually catching onto him. He dozes off after lunch, his tummy full and content with his mom’s cooking, which he had dearly missed, and ends up sleeping for more than intended. Next thing he knows, it’s 5 p.m. and it takes him some time to readjust to the reality surrounding him. He drags his feet to the kitchen to retrieve a snack, only to sit again, this time on the couch, Gureum finding home on his lap. The sleepyhead is close to spacing out again while munching on some Peperos, until his dad asks for help, his voice coming from upstairs.

Jeongguk finds out his most recent obsession has been decluttering, and that’s what he was called over for. His dad had collected old stuff that belonged to Jeongguk in two boxes with the intention of getting rid of it, but he still wanted to make sure there was nothing his son still needed, or valued. The boy is glad for such consideration the moment he spots his old Samsung camcorder in between worn plushies and damaged toy cars. He can’t imagine what would have happened if he wasn’t there; he figures the camera would have probably got thrown away, with his dad’s eagerness. He gets sensitive over it, entertaining a small argument with his father about it and forgetting the task he was supposed to complete, instead returning to his room to check on the camera’s contents.

Leaving the door ajar, he can still hear his dad’s faint voice calling for him and asking for truce, and even if Jeongguk’s little fit of anger is already over, he is too enthralled by the device to acknowledge any other sound around him. It had been a while since he last picked it up, not only because ever since he started university the boy had managed to afford better equipment for his short films and casual moments of inspiration, but also because what is stored in there could potentially break the thin line of sanity he has been walking on for the past weeks.

The first videos he’s met with make him chuckle, his big 10 years old eyes reflecting in his equally wide 20 years old ones, still sharing that same love for filming and blabbering on about his passions and ideas. With time, the contents captured by the camcorder changed, from video diaries of family trips and shared meals, to dramatic storytellings starring any toy that could be put to use. He can see the exact moment he began developing a bigger interest for directing, and his various attempts at finding new original shots and angles put a sweet smile on his lips.

Until, one particular clip marked an important switch, and the introduction of who soon after became the main subject for the rest of the images filmed on the device. From the moment she met him, Eunbi had been a constant presence anytime he would hit record on the camera. Their very first encounter is documented by it, when Jeongguk had forgotten to stop the recording, too startled by the sudden changes occuring right in front of his eyes; nevertheless, it resulted in a pure, authentic fragment that he’d never been able to replicate. There is no way to, the earliest smile she directed at him was captured by those lenses, and that started everything which followed.

He can spot the point in which they eventually got tired of making up stories to play out through their toys, even with the addition of Eunbi’s impressive Barbie collection. They also tried replacing the dolls with their own selves, but changing outfits and makeup for every single clip was only fun for a short while. Four episodes later, the both of them left the telenovela they had started taping unattended, and looked for a new reality to portray, even if it was always only for their own eyes and enjoyment.

Jeongguk was searching for something more simple than cliffhangers and plots. He now remembers how even his little self would always go back to that initial scene that saw them together for the first time, Eunbi’s small voice greeting the camera with the sun beginning to set behind her. He wanted his shots to be characterised by that same unadulterated, filtered feeling.

That is most probably what led him to start a documentary about their friendship, just what he had said behind the lenses while his best friend tilted her head to the side, sporting a confused look on her features, unaware of Jeongguk zooming in and out on her face (which probably got Eunbi to yell at the top of her lungs later on), “Was I unaware of you being a National Geographic reporter?”

“Are you calling yourself a beast?” Jeongguk could be heard chuckling in the microphone at Eunbi’s incredulous reaction. That was how it would always go between them, a constant back and forth to battle on who had the last word in. The girl just scoffed, clearly scrambling to find a quick reply, but only managing to roll her eyes with crossed arms and muttering something close to says you. It seemed the older one was ahead, for now.

Jeongguk grins at everything that follows next, and he tells himself it’s because he’s amused by his younger self’s manners, but it’s not like those were the main subject of his shots. He quickly comes to terms with the fact that if he wants to keep scrolling through the videos, he’d have to be constantly faced with Eunbi; there is really no way of escaping it. Jeongguk had underestimated the amount of clips portraying her, to the point the idea of a documentary seemed more like an excuse to film his friend. Make her his first muse. It was Eunbi playing, doing her hair, secretly trying on her mom’s clothes, blowing candles on her birthday cakes, revising for tests, baking Christmas cookies, coming up with friendship jingles; and everytime, she seemed so natural, as if being in front of a camera was all she was ever created for. She insisted she always wanted to be a teacher, though. He wonders if that changed.

He doesn’t know how much time he spends crouching on his desk with the recorder in his hands, but he knows it has to be hours when he gets to a close up of Eunbi’s face, her sleepy eyes and sheepish smile immediately taking him back to the night that infested his dreams hours earlier in his bed, his assumption being confirmed when he can see the sand extending behind her figure. At that point, he figures the relatively small amount of alcohol they had drank had already dissipated from their bodies, only leaving them feeling hazy, but in a good way. The wind makes it hard to decipher their slurry dialogue, and he misses the reason why Eunbi suddenly stole the camera and pointed the lenses at him. It makes him realise how little he showed himself in front of those. His timid smile probably gives out why: contrary to his friend, he wasn’t a natural. Still isn’t. He works better behind them.

He rewinds the clip a few times, curious as to what they were talking about. He can faintly hear Eunbi mention how that scenario looked so much like the drawing Jeongguk was working on that same afternoon. He doesn’t remember what it was, wishes he still had it. Then, the girl balanced the camcorder on the half empty bottle of vodka and stood, struggling to bring the older boy up with her. Now next to each other, Eunbi looked like she was instructing Jeongguk how to pose, and he figures she was trying to recreate that same doodle. She laughed hard when the boy shoved her, visibly annoyed with being moved around, more so with the girl seemingly repeating something again and again in his face. Her voice got louder, but the recording couldn’t quite catch it. From her lip movement, it looked like she was saying Put this in your movie! Put this in your movie! Jeongguk giggles. Was he already working on something? He wishes he could return to that moment to know, and maybe stay there for some more just because.

The boy is startled by sudden soft knocks on his door, jerking his head up and placing the camera on the desk, his hands sweaty from holding it for such an endless amount of time. He hums, signalling to come in, and he smiles when it’s his dad timidly peeking out and lifting his brows expectantly. Jeongguk giggles, “Dad, I forgive you.”

The older man sighs with way too much energy, exaggerating his relief and then coming to his son’s side. He smiles, ruffling his hair, “Are you hiding a girlfriend from us? This thing keeps going off,” handing him his phone, he cackles when he sees Jeongguk’s panicked expression. He must have left it on the couch earlier. And what does his dad mean with “girlfriend”? Phone going off? Does this have to do with him viewing Eunbi’s story? Is she publicly shaming h-

“Anyways. Dinner is almost ready, Gguk.” His dad pats the still alarmed boy’s shoulder and exits the room. As soon as Jeongguk hears the door close, he dashes himself on the phone and unlocks it. It keeps pinging with texts from his friends’ group chat, but there’s no new notification from Instagram. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but his relief is short lived when he comes up with another thought: was he that irrelevant to Eunbi? She didn’t even think of requesting his account? He frowns.

His initial idea was to quickly scroll over the messages as to join his family downstairs, positive it was probably just going to be either Seokjin sharing awful unfunny memes or Hoseok updating the group on the next possible catastrophe looming over human beings. He furrows his brows when, instead, he’s met with the whole group chat coming at Jimin, for no apparent reason, after his own name was mentioned.

Jiminssi, 7:48 p.m.

heeeyyy so…. ggukkie’s bday is very soon guys

Dahye, 7:50 p.m.

jimin.

Yoongi hyung, 7:50 p.m.

Park Jimin.

It’s in two weeks

Jiminssi, 7:51 p.m.

what

im just saying

its gonna be exciting!

Dahye, 7:51 p.m.

shut your mouth rn.

Joon hyung, 7:52 p.m.

Bro I thought I could trust u w this

Jeongguk is even more confused when, as he goes on reading, his friends keep brutally bullying Jimin, going as far as threatening to ban him from the next club nights out that he himself had planned. He chuckles at his friend’s misery, but soon remembers he is somewhat involved in it. He pouts, angrily typing.

Jeongguk, 7:58 p.m.

What is this about

Hobi hyung, 7:59 p.m.

baby it’s nothing

Jeongguk, 7:59 p.m.

???

Its not nothing

I wanna know

Like the baby he truly is, he keeps spamming the chat with messages to make himself noticed, until he sees Jimin’s texting bubble going on and off.

Jeongguk, 8:01 p.m.

My dear jimin what is it

I know you wanna tell me 🌀🌀🌀

Jiminssi, 8:02 p.m.

WE R GOING CAMPING FOR UR BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

The next thing displayed on his phone is an incoming group videocall from Namjoon, but Jeongguk remains still staring at himself on the screen for more seconds than necessary, registering the sequence of events that had just occurred. Camping? His birthday?

He slides to answer the call, and he giggles at the imminent chaos he’s welcomed with, all his friends throwing shade at Jimin while he just laughs along with his roommate. As all the members keep joining, he still doesn’t notice a certain someone missing.

”Was this supposed to be a surprise?” Jeongguk finds it hard to stop his laughter, both because of Jimin’s incapability at keeping secrets, but also — and mainly — because of the excitement he feels at the news just revealed to him.

”Well, duh. Jimin just had to ruin it,” It’s Dahye who replies, and Jeongguk can see the indignation on her features even in the little pixelated box she’s now displayed in. She then proceeds to entertain an argument about it with the boy she mentioned, and as everyone just listens and tries to excuse Jimin’s reasoning, Jeongguk searches for Taehyung on the screen. When he finds his eyes, he’s already wiggling his brows and the younger boy silently chuckles, mirroring his actions. It’s been a couple months since the two of them started suspecting something going on between Jimin and Dahye, even with the former always denying it. What is undeniable is the tension between them, though. It is showing right at that moment.

Jeongguk decided to intervene, having to raise the volume of his voice to be heard over the soon to be (in his and Taehyung’s opinion) lovebirds, “Guys, guys. I’m not mad. This is amazing. Thank you, really. Are we the only ones going?”

He questions just because in the last period they were often times joined by Seokjin’s girlfriend, as well as a couple of Dahye’s friends, and he genuinely enjoys their company, would be totally okay with them being present to celebrate his birthday. Seokjin himself speaks, “Sora is coming, and I think Iseul and Aera are also gonna be there. Oh, and of course-“

”Guys!” His phone tings, signalling a new person joining the videocall. It’s Eunbi. Oh. He almost didn’t consider the fact that she is most probably going to be invited too. Well, obviously. From what her camera is showing it looks like she’s outside, more specifically waiting at a bus stop, headphones on, “Sorry, I just saw the texts. Jimin, why the fuck would you do that?”

As the topic of the conversation moves once again on Jimin being awful at secrets, Jeongguk dissociates for a minute, no longer giggling along. He realises this would be the first birthday of his he shares with her by his side after years. He’s not sure how he feels about it. Can only sense a nervous sensation travelling his body, and making him feel uneasy. His furrowed brows and sudden silence don’t go unnoticed by Jimin, while on the other side Jeongguk surely doesn’t seem aware of his internal battle showing on the outside. He can’t let one person ruin his own birthday. He just has to ignore her. How hard can that be?

When he returns to the reality surrounding him again, he absent-mindedly listens to the others talk and can only distractedly pick up that the attention has been shifted to a complely different matter, Eunbi seemingly finding it funny assuming from her loud pearly smile. He frowns, his confidence wavering. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy to ignore her. Still, not wanting to dwell too much on it at that moment, leaving it for his future self to worry about, he leaves the call not before thanking his friends again. He misses Eunbi’s fond smile as the others shower their baby with praises, dismissing his gratitude with this is the least we could do for you, Ggukkie boy.

When he joins his mom and dad downstairs, it’s oddly quiet as they eat. Gureum places himself under the table and sighs, laying his head on Jeongguk’s feet. The boy can perceive the eerie atmosphere, so he asks about Gureum’s health and shows genuine interest when his dad updates him on the dog’s improvements. His mom, however, defines herself as an expert when it comes to her only son. She can spot even the tiniest change in his demeanour. Still, she knows to be delicate when asking about it, “Is everything okay, honey?”

Jeongguk stills with the fork in his mouth, looks at his mom with wide telling eyes, then nods. He hesitates, gulping down the previous bite, “Uh, my friends and I are going camping for my birthday.”

His mother smiles a big one, “That’s nice!” She seems aware something is being left out, so she inquires further, “But…?”

The questioned boy plays with his food while still munching on a big bite of it, “I guess I kinda forgot to mention it,” he starts, trying to mask his embarrassment by talking with his mouth still full. When his mom glares at him, he forces it down, “But, huh… Eunbi is in Seoul. And she’s Dahye’s roommate, so she’s coming too.”

It’s his mom’s turn to be silent. She looks like she’s taken aback, her mind working slower than usual to register a name she hasn’t heard in a long while, “Eunbi as in Song Eunbi? Our neighbour?”

Jeongguk unconsciously furrows his brows. The girl hasn’t been their neighbour for years, and never will be again. He doesn’t know why such a simple definition of her makes him feel edgy, “Yeah, our old neighbour.”

”Right… Well, that’s good, no?” Mrs. Jeon tries to lift up the atmosphere, even while knowing the mentioned girl could still be a touchy subject for the boy. When everything happened, a piece of him had been taken away with Eunbi’s sudden departure. There was seemingly no way to mend his heart, and as time went by Jeongguk closed up more and more every time his old friend was brought up, to the point she was never mentioned again, as if she had never existed. That illusion seemed to help the boy move on. His mom is not sure how her son feels about it now, but she unknowingly figures the scar has to have healed after all those years, and maybe seeing Eunbi again even brought her son to the closure he needed. When Jeongguk just nods, she hopes that is the case. His mom smiles, ”Invite her over sometimes?”

“… Yeah, mom. Huh, I will.”

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x original character #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts x reader #bts imagines #📓: good luck babe!

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superums · 1 year ago

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monkey d. luffy's 5 love languages

gender neutral readers. fluff. improper grammar. no uses of (y/n) or (name). established relationship. strawhat-coded reader. i tried to lean into luffys childlike personality without infantilizing him... tell me how good i did that please. is meant for opla!luffy but it can go for anime!luffy as-well. spoiler free

color coded text: luffy

physical touch: luffy is very touchy feely. he likes wrapping his entire body around you like a wet noodle just because he can and you're going to have to deal with that!! he loves giving you cheek kisses or small bites on your fingers, shoulders and chest but in a non-sexual way! he loves holding your hand and swinging it back and forth. he thinks is super fun and he'll do it really hard sometimes and make his arm loose shape and flail around in the wind.

acts of service: you could ask him to get a star out of the sky he'd do it!!! he'd do little things like get things off of shelves, grab something from your room or giving you a piggyback across an island but he'd literally do anything you ask him to without a second thought..well maybe be sides share his food, he'd have to think about it foe a second and then give you a piece. but fr he's big on helping you though, he likes doing things for you. and if you ever asked him why he dose he wanna help he'd be like 'because you need help' which translates to 'because i like being with you'.

quality time: you two spend alot of time together not only because you live on a boat together (with the crew ofc) but he also seeks you out when he's bored. downtime on the ship is v common because it can take weeks to get from point A to point B and thats where you come in. sometimes he takes you to the figure head and makes you tell him stories or talk about your thoughts. other times you just sit on the deck and sunbathe while he holds your hand it all depends really.

giving/receiving gifts: it doesn't take alot to impress him he's like a baby—easy to please! you could give him a fish & he'd wiggle it around before yelling at asking sanji to cook it for him. his gifts however are usually one of two things either— 1) it takes trials and tribulations to get or 2) it comes of as simple to someone from the outside looking in but it means alot to him no in between! like lets you say you want a apple he'd somehow fight a congregation of alligators to bring back 1 apple then he'd ask for a bite. ORRRRR he gifts you something like a drawing of you that looks rushed and childish with gears around it but it took him an hour—you watched him as he would go back and forth between looking at you foe a minute and scribbling and erasing on his paper. some might make fun of him for that but you of all people know that it means a lot to him that you have!

words of affirmation: he talks about you like you hung the moon and stars you could be a marine, a civilian, someone on his crew it doesn't matter. he'd tell everyone how he feels about you regardless if you're there or not. he never misses a moment to talk about you highly though his vocabulary is a little limited so he doesn't say things like "you're extravagant" or "i admire you." when he compliments you he says things like "you're so fun." and "i like you so much." again his words are surface level to those who don't know him but he really does think highly of you even if his words don't exactly reflect it but actions are louder than words anyway.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #one peice luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #opla x reader #one piece x reader #op live action x reader #op x you #op x y/n #📓💭🪷

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ticklygiggles · 8 months ago

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A curious fishie and a Sea God | Rafayel x Reader

A/N: @homurasturtle thank you sooo muuuchh for your kind support ❤️❤️❤️!!! I loooove so much talking to you about our cute love and deepspace boys skskdkf I hope you enjoy this one! I loved wrecking- ah, I mean... writing this little fishie ❤️ thank you again!

Summary: it's hard to be a ticklish god.

Words: 1k+

It was a little funny, but also a little unbelievable. From the first moment, you thought that the symbols on his body were part of him, that they were tattooed in his epidermis like a birthmark, but what was your surprise when one day, very early in the morning, you accidentally saw him in front of a full-length mirror, decorated with shells and pearls of rich colors, with various brushes and inks resting on a small table.

His beautiful, toned body was naked of symbols and fancy jewelry and the blue, soft fabric that looked like a flowing current and always hung from his left shoulder, was instead hanging lazily from his waist. The current circling him slowly, languidly. Rafayel was looking at himself in the mirror, as if checking where exactly to draw those symbols before he finally grabbed a long pencil, its tip pointy, and dipped it into the blue tint, beginning the laborious work.

However, what really seemed strange to you was how his muscles contracted when the tip of the brush touched his fair skin. He could easily do the higher ones around his collarbones and chest, but once he moved to the lower part, Rafayel, the God of the Sea, gasped and bit his lower lip, trying to stop a smile that threatened to take over his pretty lips as he trembled and had to start over and over and over again because the lines and dots would get messed up with sudden jerks of his body. In the process, even his scales were tainted and he had to carefully clean them.

It was... really pitiful to see. You covered your mouth to prevent a giggle from escaping your lips. Did he seriously have to wake up so early in the morning just to do that? Why didn't he ask for help? A memory assaulted your mind, one from when you had just been received to Lemuria: Rafayel didn't like being touched. At first you thought it was a childish whim, he thought he was so good to be touched by anyone just because he was the God of the Sea? Over time, you learned that Rafayel was actually afraid of losing his precious scales and you understood it, but also as time passed, you noticed that Rafayel let you be close to him, much more than the others. And as your relationship with him improved a bit too much, you were the only person who could touch him however you wanted- so why not give him a little help?

You cleared your throat and a giggle finally made its way out when Rafayel jumped, his eyes finding you in the mirror as the brush made a weird curl near his belly button. He whined.

“What are you doing here? Are you spying on me?” He asked rather annoyed as he cleaned the paint off his body one more time.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spy, I was just… curious about what you were doing,” you said, standing behind him, your upper body reflected on the mirror when you peek out from behind him.

Rafayel chuckled humorlessly. “You know? They said little fishies lose their scales for being too curious.”

You smiled. “Good thing I'm no fishie, then!”

“Very funny,” he said, completely ignoring you as he cleaned all the symbols. His skin was rather red, irritated from cleaning the area so many times. It looked a little painful and you couldn't help but wince. “What now?”

“Would you like some help, Rafayel? I have a great pulse, you see. I can definitely do it! I also have memorized all the patterns, it's truly no problem.” Rafayel was about to deny your help, so you continued before he could. “Besides, I think it’ll be faster if I help you, I see you have some troubles there.”

Neither of you mentioned anything about the deep blush assaulting Rafayel's ears, but you beamed with a bright smile when he passed you the brush and the cloth he was using to clean his mess– ahem, the paint off his body.

“Okay,” you said, placing yourself in front of him, partially blocking him in the mirror. “Hmm, I guess the upper part looks good enough."

You thought the really challenging part was the lower half, after all, he seemed to be… exceptionally ticklish. You giggled to yourself, ignoring the curious look Rafayel gave you as you dipped the brush into the blue paint, taking the excess off by pressing it against the edge of the jar.

“Here I go. Raise your arms a bit for me– that's perfect. Now, brace yourself.”

“Hmm? What do you- haah!” Rafayel gasped and you quickly pulled the brush away just as his body flinched back. The brush had barely touched the skin against his ribs. You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“S-Sorry, I just… it's… you–”

“Yes, yes. Hold still, otherwise this'll take us all day long.”

Rafayel made a soft sound deep inside his throat. Something akin to a whimper or a whine as the brush was back on his skin. You painted a fine baseline just as you remembered the strokes he usually wore. A line from under his right pectoral, down to his lower ribs, you would fill that one later. You continued with another stroke right under that one, starting from the end of his sternum, down to his lowest set of ribs. You nodded proudly, that looked very good. Next, another line, this one starting a little lower than the hollow of his armpit and following the path around his ribs until it touched the second line you had drawn. The next one-

You squealed when Rafayel suddenly grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away.

“H-Hey! What-!”

“AHAHAHA!”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Rafayel, still holding your shoulders, let out a beautiful sound. A pretty melody that ringed in your ear. His laughter was so rich and bubbly, sweet like a child's, but also deep and light and bright, but it was the expression on his face that really took your breath away. His eyebrows were furrowed a little, his eyes closed into little crescent moons with small tears in the corners. His nose was scrunching up and a light blush spread across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, but of course, the most beautiful and stunning thing was his wide, open smile, showing you his pearls while that laugh mischievously escaped from him.

What a sight.

You smiled tenderly and waited for him to catch his breath, your heart racing within your chest when he looked up at you with his teary eyes and slightly annoying expression.

“Was that very funny?” You teased and he blushed to his ears. “I'm glad you're enjoying me helping you out so much, but I still have a long way to go.”

“I am not–! It's too ticklish, okay?! Can you do it a little faster? I can't hold my laughter for long.”

How was he so adorable? You nodded, smiling at him. “I will do my best. If you need me to stop, just tell me. Don't grab me like that, you scared me.”

“S-Sorry.”

You sighed, dipping the brush into the blue paint again and pressing the tip right under the last stroke, this time the line started shorter than the previous one and extended all the way around the scales of his hip towards the side of his toned stomach, doing a slight curve and then getting lost behind the waist of his robes.

“W-Wait-ahahaha!” You pulled the brush away quickly, giggling as he started laughing again. “You're dohohoing it too s-slohowly on p-purpose!”

“I'm not! Now hold still, I need to do the little dots…”

Dot. Dot. Dot. Dot. Dot. You went down the side of his tummy while Rafayel giggled brightly, unable to stop himself as you made that certain design those little dots had. Didn't they almost resemble hearts? His stomach trembled with each laugh, making you have a little bit of a hard time and causing you to ‘accidentally’ poke his belly button and draw a line down his lower tummy.

“Oops, I'm so sorry, let me just clean that up real quick. Hold still.”

Rafayel cackled as one of your fingers dipped into his navel to get rid of all the paint inside it. Your finger wiggled and vibrated against the little spot and Rafayel fought the urge to push you away, grabbing your shoulders again. You weren't sure how many times you repeated that process until you thought it was clean enough, but Rafayel kept laughing as you also cleaned the path down his lower tummy.

“Okay, let's continue, shall we?” Your cheeks were flushed as you saw him laughing even though you weren't touching him anymore. Your heart clenched in your chest and butterflies fluttered inside your stomach. “What's so funny now? I'm just trying to help you here.”

“Ihihihi’ill- I'll gehet my revehenge,” he said once he calmed down and you jumped with a giggle when he poked the front of your ribcage.

“Hehey! I dohon't know what you're talking about. Let's keep going! I'm not even halfway through!”

The other side was just as torturous for Rafayel, when you finished, his face was as red as a coral and tears of laughter fell from his face.

“I think it's more ticklish if I do it, huh?”

Rafayel nodded weakly as you caught a tear falling down his cheek. “It ihihihis! Gihihive m-me a b-breheak, plehehase!”

“We are almost finished! Let's continue!”

“N-No, I- Nohohot my scahahales! Bahaha!”

Touching one of his scales with the tip of the brush, you quickly did a stroke all the way to the side of his spine. Rafayel's skin broke into goosebumps and he laughed freely, not able to stop himself anymore as you kept painting on him, painting his sensitive skin with quick, yet precise strokes that had him gasping for air.

Not only his tummy and his back, even his arms and hands were exceptionally sensitive and it was so hard to paint on his fingers, but finally, after what felt like a whole day's work, (at least to Rafayel), you finished and he was left breathless and twitching slightly.

“All done. Tell me, was it any faster, Rafayel? How does it look?”

Rafayel, panting and red in the face, looked at himself in the mirror, checking every line carefully and then he looked at you, trying to erase the smile that still made the corners of his mouth tremble.

“I guess it looks good… You'll help me from now on. It's only something that a devotee should do.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled at him. Well, if you could get to hear that sweet sound every morning… you could definitely help him and be an exceptional devotee.

“Ah! The one under your eye! Come here. This one won't be as bad.”

“Eek! It ihis!”

Oh, he was so ticklish. There was no doubt that you would help him without expecting anything in return other than that beautiful smile.

“I'll be in your care, God if the Sea.”

“W-Whahat?”

You giggled, finishing your work with a soft kiss on his cheek and quickly leaving the room before he could do anything about it.

BONUS SCENE

“AHAHAHA! Ra-Rahahafayel! N-Nohoho!”

“I told you I was gonna take my revenge, now take this. You had your fun tickling me, now's my turn!”

“Iwashelpingyou! I wahahas hehehelping- ahahaha! Not thehehere!”

“I'm also helping you, now stop moving. I'm sure you always use some paint here by your hiiip, oops I have to start over!”

Well, after all, there was a price to pay to see his smile!

#love and deepspace #l&ds #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #ticklish!Rafayel #and a tiiiiiny but of #ticklish!Reader #ticke fic #tickling #mia's things #commissions

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the-little-ewok · 2 years ago

Text

Only yours

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) X F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 3700 (ish)

Warnings : Explicit / PIV (unprotected sex) / praise kink / mild possessiveness / mentions of oral sex (m&f recieving) / dirty talk / thigh riding / brief fingering / mild Dom Din/ fluffyness / pinning / finger biting (idk is that a warning?) / The helmet comes off / consent is sexy/ aftercare

Prompts / Summary : I love it when you talk dirty, Open your mouth, I'd hold onto something if I were you / A second of playfulness leads to a night of passion with the Mandalorian

A/N: Please go easy on me this is the first time I'm writing smut for Din… sorry it got a bit well … you've seen the warnings….

Also I slightly changed one of the prompts because it sounded better. Just changed a word that's all :)

Dedicating this to my absolute angel of a beta @beldroxramscal ! Thank you for putting up with me!

If you enjoy this fic please reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs keep writers writing :)

—--

Honestly, what had you been thinking? Time, place, person, all wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

All the Mandalorian had tried to do was shush your chattering, pressing his finger against your lips as he watched the bounty in the distance. And you, in all your wisdom, had decided to open your mouth and playfully bite down on a gloved finger.

His head had snapped around so quickly you're surprised he didn't injure himself. And you, you still had grinned at him, his finger trapped in your teeth, as your reflection in his helmet grinned back. What exactly was the reaction you were hoping for? Certainly not the one you got.

The long moment of silence that followed had made your grin falter, and you opened your mouth to release his finger. The Mandalorian had stepped away from you without a sound, going back to hunting his bounty in silence.

And he hadn't said a word to you since. He'd been silent, stoic, and well, stampy.

Even now you can hear his pacing footfalls ringing out against the metal hull of the ship. Each one seemed to ring out how stupid you were. The Mandalorian. Of all people to do that to, you just had to pick him.

Clunk. Stupid. Clunk. Stupid.

You had tried to go to him and apologise, but he was clearly avoiding you, and each time you tried to speak with him, he made excuses to busy himself somewhere away from you.

After everything, after working your way up to an easy friendship, after finally getting him to relax a little, you had to go and throw it all away because you couldn't help your childish behaviour; because you couldn't stop thinking about him in ways you really shouldn't.

You toss, kicking the covers off for the thousandth time since you went to bed, turning the pillow, punching it for good measure and trying to settle down to sleep.

But sleep isn't coming. And all you can hear is the clunk, clunk, clunk, of the pacing Mandalorian.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

It's all you can hear and Maker, it's irritating. Can't he go and be mad away from your door, instead of reminding you with every step of your colossal fuck up.

With a growl of annoyance, you roll out of bed and slam your hand on the control panel to open the door, letting out a yelp of surprise when you're met with your shimmering reflection in the Mandalorian’s helmet.

You try to recover quickly, fixing him with a stern frown, trying not to glance down to fully take in the fact he's dressed only in his undershirt and pants.

"I-I can't sleep with you pacing up and down!"

"I didn't realise I was keeping you awake. I apologise." It's the most words the Mandalorian has spoken to you since you arrived back at the ship, and it softens your annoyance just a little. After all, this was your fault, and there was no point taking it out on him.

"It's okay. Did you need something?"

"No. I was just… walking past." Both the Mandalorians' hesitation, and the fact your room is the last on the ship with nowhere else to go, tell you that is a bare-faced lie.

You twist your hands nervously in front of you, trying to figure out what he could need from you in the middle of the night, and come up with only one thing.

"Did you want to talk about what happened earlier? Because I'm really so-"

"Open your mouth."

"rry-what?" You frown, watching as he slides off one glove, then the other, slowly.

"Open. Your. Mouth," he states again, his modulated voice dark. It's not a question, it's a command. It's how he speaks to his bounties. It should scare you, but it doesn't, he doesn't.

But even so, your breath catches, your heart hammers against your chest, and you feel a prickling heat creeping up the back of your neck. From desire or concern, you aren't sure.

The silence stretches out for a long moment, neither of you moving, before swallowing hard, you take a breath and open your mouth.

"Good girl."

Kriff. How hard your pussy clenches is almost painful.

Closing the distance between you the Mandalorian raises his hand and slips two thick fingers between your parted lips.

You don't wait for further instructions before you swirl your tongue around his digits, sucking hard before biting down softly, listening to the hitch in the Mandalorian’s breathing.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock."

The surprise at his words makes your eyes widen at first, but then a flood of heat follows, the mental image of you on your knees for him making you moan around his fingers.

"You like that Cyar'ika? You like thinking about my cock down your throat?"

His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, and he waits. He's actually waiting for you to answer.

You stare at your reflection for a moment before your eyes slide away, looking off across the ship, cheeks heating in embarrassment.

"I just like it when you talk dirty," you admit quietly, all too aware that out of the corner of your vision, you can see your saliva glistening on his fingers. Not that you minded the thought of taking him in your mouth either. But there was something deliciously naughty about the Mandalorian speaking filthy words.

"There's no going back if we do this." The Mandalorian states suddenly, changing topics faster than he shoots. "I won't let you go if this happens."

It's such a strange contrast from the tone he used just moments ago it throws you for a loop. Your brain scrambles to catch up with not only the change in pace, but his words.

At your lack of response the Mandalorian takes a deep modulated breath, his shoulders slump and he turns on his heel to walk away from you.

Panic scrambles up through your chest, making it tighten uncomfortably.

"Wait, Mando, wait," you beg, reaching out to catch his arm. Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, keeping him in place but he doesn't turn back to you.

"I don't want to go back," you admit, desperate for him to be close to you again. "I don't want there to be a going back."

The way he slowly turns to face you once more feels dangerous, intimidating.

"There's no going back for me now," you whisper as he steps close to you, crowding you back against the doorframe.

"No," he agrees, raising an arm above your head to lean over you, trapping you in place, as the other reaches up to cup your cheek, "there was never any going back."

Your dazed reflection blinks at you in silver and black as his thumb traces your lower lip. You have so many questions, but none of them seem right to ask now. You hope there will be time for them later, that what he says is true, and there is no going back, that there is only forward now.

"Close your eyes," the Mandalorian commands, "and keep them closed."

You do as he tells you without question, shutting your eyes tightly, accepting the inky black and burst of colour behind your eyelids.

At first, his thumb continues to trace your lips, pressing between them briefly to drag along your tongue before his touch disappears.

There's a hiss, a clunk, then absolute silence. All you are left with is the sound of your own heavy breathing.

As the silence stretches out you start to worry that perhaps this is some revenge, some power play to teach you to listen to instructions, to teach you a lesson for your earlier playfulness. Your eyes flicker, almost opening for a moment before -

"Don't."

You squeeze them shut once more, your breath catching in your throat, forgetting how to breathe as the unmodulated, crisp, deep voice warns you.

"Don't open your eyes." He reminds you again. "And breathe."

You're suddenly all too aware of the burning in your lungs from the lack of oxygen. You take an embarrassingly gasped breath, sucking in all the air you can, desperately, as though you've been suffocating for hours.

"Slower," he instructs. You slow your breathing to a more normal pace, or as normal as you can manage given the sudden change in situation.

You can feel the heat from his body as he steps closer to you, forcing you to try and concentrate to keep your breathing steady. For all the times you've imagined this, him, you had not expected him to have quite the powerful effect on you that he does.

He cups your cheek again, his palm warm against your skin. His thumb traces your bottom lip slowly, and you feel him leaning into you, his breath fanning out across your lips.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.

You nod, not trusting your voice to waiver with thick desire.

He obliges without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours, gentler than you were expecting, as though testing the waters, expecting you to suddenly pull away and put an end to this.

Instead, you press yourself up against him, moulding your body to his, opening your mouth to press your tongue to the seam of his lips.

It's clear at that moment, he has been holding back, perhaps giving you the space to adjust in the turn of your relationship, but the moment your tongue presses against his lips, he snaps.

His arm slips around your waist, holding you tight against his chest as his tongue presses against yours, his kiss insistent and demanding.

Your hands tangle in his hair, exploring previously uncharted territory. As you tug the soft strands lightly the Mandalorian groans into your mouth, pulling back to bite sharply at your lip.

"I should have thrown you to the ground and let the bounty go," he growls passionately, pressing you hard against the doorframe, slotting his thigh between your legs, drawing a gasp from you as he presses it up against your core. "Is that what you wanted? Is that what you were trying to do? You wanted me to fuck you then and there?"

It wasn't, not entirely. Well, maybe it might slightly have crossed your thoughts that in the heat of the moment, he might have done something. You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that exact scenario had passed your thoughts more than once. So, maybe. Maybe you had wanted that.

"I wouldn't have minded if you had," you admit.

The Mandalorian hums, and without being able to see his face, it's impossible to tell if your answer gives him satisfaction or not. Either way, it doesn't seem to matter as his mouth crashes back into yours.

As his tongue dips once more between your lips and you can't help but cant your hips against his thigh, grinding down as his tongue licks into your mouth. It's like your body has a damn mind of its own and is hell-bent on finally getting the high you need from him.

You groan into his mouth, the friction against your aching core just feeling too damn good. The Mandalorian presses his thigh tighter against you as he pulls away, growling lowly against your lips.

"That's it, take what you need."

You don't hesitate. You grind yourself harder against him, aware of the wetness soaking your sleep shorts, and the stain you must be leaving on his pants. Your breath comes out in short gasps as you feel your body tighten, the coil of pleasure inside you winding tighter and tighter.

"Can you cum like this pretty girl?"

Could you? You're certainly pretty close, the material of your shorts dragging up against your clit in just the right way. His next words almost send you hurtling over the edge.

"Then after I'll make you cum on my cock?"

You whine. Any other time you would have been embarrassed by the noise that escapes, but there's no room for that here. There is only you and the Mandalorian, who is making your body sing in ways nobody else has.

"Let go. Let me see you cum for me." It sounds almost like a beg, but you know it isn't, it's a command. You have to cum for him.

Your body reacts before your brain has caught up. You tremble, crying out as the wave of pleasure takes over, the coil snapping, throwing you high in your climax as you ride it out against his leg, shameless in your pleasure.

You barely have time to come down before the Mandalorian removes his leg, and suddenly pulls away from you.

"Bed," he orders roughly.

For a split second, you go to open your eyes, acting on pure instinct to look where you are going, before he stops you a second time. "I'll guide you."

He takes your waist, and slowly walks you backwards, step by step. You have no choice but to trust him and follow, your legs still trembling from your orgasm.

As he pushes you down, you sit tentatively, reaching out your hands to feel for the edges of the bed, slowly backing up onto it. You feel the thin mattress sink with the Mandalorian’s weight as he joins you.

He takes your chin in his fingers and turns your face towards him before he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"Do you want this?" He asks softly, keeping your face turned to him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Maker, you absolutely were not going to survive the night if he keeps asking these types of questions. Your pussy clenches in anticipation.

"Yes." You manage to pant out.

He wastes no time in undressing you, practically tearing your shirt over your head before guiding you to lie down. You move your hands to remove your shorts but he stops you, pushing them down onto the mattress and hooking his fingers into the elastic, sliding your shorts down slowly, exposing you fully to his gaze. There's a hitch in his breathing and wish you were able to see him, take in his expression, watch him lick his lips as he surveys you.

Instead, you have to make do with your imagination.

You jump involuntarily as his hands suddenly grip your thighs, sliding his palms up your skin until his fingers rest just below your throbbing core, spreading your legs wide.

"You are soaked for me, pretty thing."

There're no words coming that you can answer him with, just the gasped breaths and the lift of your hips to encourage him to touch you.

He tuts at your actions with a sigh.

"Next time, we will work on you using your words to ask for what you want."

Next time? There was already going to be a next time? You almost forget to breathe again, but at that exact moment, the Mandalorian runs two calloused fingers through your wet heat, making you suddenly suck in a gasp of air, your hips arching towards his touch, even though you are still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.

He slips a thick finger into your wet heat, drawing a soft mewl of pleasure from your throat. The Mandalorian hums in appreciation of the noise, pressing a second finger to join the first, twisting and curling them as he stretches you open, filling you better than your own hands can.

"So fucking pretty," he praises as he thrusts his fingers, your soaked pussy making an embarrassingly lewd sound.

Suddenly and without warning his fingers leave you, and for a moment there is silence before the Mandalorian lets out a broken groan.

"You taste divine."

Heat spreads across your cheeks, prickling at your skin when you realise he must have tasted you from his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, fisting the covers as your body shudders in desperation. You can't wait any longer. You've waited long enough to be here with him.

"Fuck me, Mando," you burst out, taking his words to heart, that you should ask for what you need.

The Mandalorian lets out a dark chuckle before you hear the whisper of fabric, the soft flump of clothes hitting the floor, and then his weight is over you, pressing you down into the mattress, his thick cock pressing up against your core.

"You can call me Din, when we are alone."

Din. The name rings in your ears. Din. You don't know what this means, that he's given you his name, but something aches in your chest at the trust. There really was no going back now.

"Please, Din. I need you. I want you."

He groans as his name passes your lips for the first time, his cock rutting up against your wet folds, soaking himself in your slick.

"Good girl, finally asking for what she wants."

Lining himself up at your entrance he presses into you slowly, inch by inch, allowing you to adjust as he stretches your walls. Every feeling is heightened without your vision — his weight over you, his arms caging you in, the fullness of his cock as he bottoms out, splitting you open, the wet squelch of your pussy, the way his whisper sounds like a yell as he leans down.

"I've thought about you like this so much. Filling you," he delivers a devastating thrust that tears a moan from your throat before you can stop it. "Made myself cum so many times thinking about how you'd taste. How good you would be, all pretty spread out for me." Another hard, slow thrust. "How you'd cum on my tongue over and over until you can't take anymore. And then I'd fuck you, slowly."

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, desperate for him to stop talking before you cum too quickly, or maybe to keep talking, you aren't sure. All you know is nothing could turn you on more than the thought of him, cock in fist, whining your name as he thought about eating your pussy.

"Please," you whine helplessly as he rolls his hips deep and slow, pressing up against that one spot that makes you see stars.

"This is mine now. You are mine now," he growls, continuing his leisurely pace.

"Yours. Only yours. Always yours," you agree with a helpless nod, arching your back, pressing yourself against him, taking everything he offers.

Except it isn't enough. The unhurried thrusts press against all the right spots, but it's only enough to leave you frustratingly close to oblivion, but never enough to throw you into the abyss.

"Din, I need…i-i…n-uhh," you cut off into a moan as he delivers another deep thrust.

"I know Cyar'ika," he groans, pausing deep inside you to capture your lips in a messy kiss that's all tongue and teeth. You're not sure if the entire lack of movement is somehow worse.

When the Mandalorian finally pulls away he growls in your ear, a noise that makes your pussy clench around his cock.

"I'd find something to hold onto if I was you."

He pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you, before he thrusts back in, setting a hard fast pace that has you cambering for purchase on the bed. Your fingers curl around the edge of the mattress, trying to hold yourself in place as each hard thrust pushes you further up the small cot.

It's too much. When you think you can't possibly get any fuller, he somehow finds a way to thrust deeper, making your eyes roll behind your closed eyelids.

The pleasure at the pace and depth is more than you've ever experienced. It verges somewhere between pain and rapture. It's consuming, drowning, it's everything you need.

You all but scream his name as you finally cum, your body taunt and trembling beneath him, aching fingers gripping the bed for life. Your blood pulses in your ears, white explodes behind your eyelids, it's impossible to get enough air into your lungs.

You might black out for a moment, because when you finally come back to yourself, limbs heavy and shaky, Din is whispering soft praises in your ear.

"So good for me. Taking me so well. Pretty little pussy so good," he slurs, pressing deeper into you as you bury your whines against his neck, trembling with overstimulation. His thrusts are sloppy and mistimed as he rambles in your ear, whispering filth and praises, before he suddenly pulls out of you, letting out a long groan of relief as he splatters your stomach with hot bursts of cum.

For a long moment afterwards, there is only the sound of heavy breathing between you, then his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

It's gentle and slow, it's more than just a kiss between lovers, it's a promise, but for what, you aren't quite sure yet.

"Stay here," he instructs gently. This time it actually sounds like a request.

The mattress moves and creaks as the Mandalorian gets up, leaving you alone, sweat drenched and covered in cum. It isn't exactly how you pictured your night ending, but you certainly aren't complaining.

Just as you are starting to get anxious that he's been gone so long, you hear soft footfalls and the bed sinks again.

"I'm going to clean you up," he informs you, before a warm wet towel swipes across your stomach, cleaning up the traces of his climax, before he moves down, to clean your slick from your thighs. You're thankful he doesn't make a meal of cleaning your sensitive cunt, clearly taking note of the way you hiss in overstimulation when he swipes the cloth over your folds.

When he's done he settles himself next to you in the small cot, pulling you to lay on your side, his arm thrown casually over your waist, keeping you close.

"So," you speak quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness that has settled around you, "you weren't mad about the whole finger bite?"

The Mandalorian chuckles, a genuine amused laugh, that makes your chest ache with affection. You want to make him laugh again. You want to make him laugh every day.

"No, Cyar'ika," he sighs, "I wasn't mad. Just frustrated."

"With me?"

"With myself," the Mandalorian answers quickly, his fingers softly tracing your skin. Since he doesn't elaborate, you decide not to ask anything further. Maybe one day you can both explain how this took so long, but this isn't the time.

"What does Cyar'ika mean?" You question, changing the subject, and if you were honest, using talking as an excuse to keep him in your bed a while longer.

"It's a term of affection. An approximation of darling I suppose. But I can call you something else if you prefer?"

"No," you shake your head passionately. "I like Cyar'ika."

"Good," he answers simply. "Now if you are done with your questions, open your eyes."

It takes a moment for his request to sink in and for the first time, you don't comply.

"B-but-"

"Open your eyes," he cuts in quietly, a hand wrapping around your thigh, pulling your legs open as he shifts between them once more, pressing you to lay back against the mattress. "I want to taste you, and this time, I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you scream."

Your heart jumps, your mouth is dry, your thighs tremble.

You open your eyes.

—-----------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please take the time to reblog and let me know your thoughts! I love hearing from readers more than anything!

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian fanfiction

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rottenrosethorns · 2 years ago

Note

HI HI!! i love ur blog sm i had to request something!! can we pls get some fluffy leon hcs where he's playing w his partner's hair? or caressing their skin, anything along those lines🥺

im touch starved istg

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x gn!reader

Genre: Headcanons, Fluff

Synopsis: Leon’s love language is physical touch – Leon takes you on a surprise date to the local carnival!

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: mentions of carnivals but no clowns, large crowds, mentions of social anxiety

A/N: I don’t know how to write headcanons lol. So, hopefully this is okay for the first time. I also don’t know how to keep things short and sweet, I was itching to write a whole ass fic for this LMAO. thank you anon for the idea and for loving my humble blog! <3

__________

- masterlist -

__________

You always found it surprising that Leon would put 110% effort in planning your monthly date nights. Usually, he’s cool, calm, and collected, so you didn’t strike him as the type to become giddy about some outing; however, Leon always managed to prove you wrong. He was an excellent planner thanks to all the years of training his observation skills.

He knew exactly what you liked and didn’t like. So even if you hated surprises, Leon would always orchestrate the date accordingly and ease into the activity he knew you’d enjoy.

Plus, you trusted him more than you trusted your anxiety!

Before you even leave the house, Leon's sitting on the closed lid of the bathroom toilet, watching as you get yourself ready for whatever outing he'd been brewing for the past week. His eyes would be keen on you the entire time, shifting to look at your reflection in the mirror, then back towards you.

Since he doesn’t want to interrupt your work – you are putting in the time and energy to look good for him after all – Leon resorts to verbal compliments and being your personal hype boy.

You'd usually listen to music or play a video to accompany your routine, but nowadays, Leon was the only companion you needed.

Leon can't sit still for long, so he'll be hovering all around you. One moment, he's standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your midriff to catch you in a tight back hug. Next, he's turning you around with his hands on your hips as he tries to convince you that you don't need anything to make you look more breathtaking than you already were.

You pinch him arm gently, warning him that he'll make you both late if he keeps distracting you. So, he offers to help you with your hair instead.

The man wants to be involved! Let him dote on you!

Surprisingly, Leon's decent as a hairstylist. Experienced from handling young Sherry’s hair, Leon forcibly learned almost any and all basic hairstyles. He'll be extra gentle with you though, making sure not to pull too tight or harshly brush through knots. If he's feeling a bit childish, he'll try to tickle your earlobes. But when you get annoyed, he'll offer an apologetic kiss on your neck before neatly finishing his style.

Sometimes he’ll ask what style you want, but most times you let him decide for you. Secretly, you know he enjoys dolling you up to his expectations, so as long as it looks well kept, you didn’t mind what he did for you.

Leon's not the best driver, so unfortunately, he can't do the one hand driving, one hand on your left thigh ordeal. No matter how much he wants to be cool, he doesn't have the confidence to drive without two hands on the wheel like a teen who'd just gotten their permit.

It's okay though, because he'll interlace his fingers with yours and softly kiss the back of your hand at red lights. Maybe, he can sneak in a peck when there's traffic too.

Leon always opens the door for you and offers a helping hand which never lets go unless absolutely necessary. It's not uncommon for couples to hold hands in public, but when he's brought you to the local carnival with an abundance of people, he's definitely making sure you don't get lost in the crowd. Your safety comes first after all.

If you get anxious around a lot of people, Leon will either rub his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly as he whispers some reassuring words for you or he'll move so that his body acts as a sort of barrier.

You'll always follow closely behind him, tugging at his clothes just in case your hands disconnected for whatever reason. Once you're out of the crowd, Leon will make sure you're feeling okay before holding you closer by latching his arm around your waist.

It’s a win-win for the both of you. You get to feel his warmth from his protection, and he gets to ward off anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. Boy is possessive, so don’t stray too far!

If you get self-conscious about PDA, Leon will pout, but he'll get over it. As much as he wants to smother you in kisses for the world to see that you are his lover, Leon would never force you to be in an uncomfortable situation especially in public.

Therefore, he'll compromise with a ghost touch at the small of your back or a soft grip on your shoulder. He'll know he's doing okay because you'll subconsciously lean closer to him and sometimes put a hand on top of his.

The both of you will explore the carnival grounds for a while, trying your hand at a few carnival games. Of course, Leon is very competitive in nature and an excellent marksman, so he'll absolutely ace at any and all shooter games. But this time, he'll push you up to the podium this time and help you win your own prize.

He'll stand behind you with both hands on your shoulders as he tells you to focus on the three glass bottles. He gives clear instructions, waiting for you to nod your head or make a noise in confirmation before sliding his arms down yours and aiming the toy gun towards the bottles.

He'll hover towards your level, chin resting on the curvature of your shoulder. He does this to help see how you’re aiming, but he purposely pushes himself closer to tease you. He can’t help that you’re just smaller than him and that your figure is always begging for him to embrace you.

He knows you're nervous, but he wants you to win, so he'll wrap his hands around your shaking hands, gripping the stock to stabilize you and the gun before shifting your aim. Once lined up, he'll let you pull the trigger on your own, successfully knocking down the three bottles. Elated, you turn and envelope yourself into a congratulatory hug before happily accepting the prize.

When you're both hungry and take a seat at an open table to snack on the overpriced carnival food, Leon now does the hand on the thigh thingy.

He'll go the extra mile and hook your leg over his, so that you're partially thrown over his lap as he traces random lines on your skin. Again, if you're anxious about large crowds, this'll soothe you.

You can't say you've been to a carnival if you hadn't gone on the ferris wheel, right? Is it very obvious that he plans to seal the night with a romantic kiss at the top of the ride? Yes. But, you'll pretend you don't know what he's planning to do.

Leon's never truly loved someone before, so don't blame him when he gets all his ideas from cheesy romance movies. You'd never expose him though, because you didn't mind being the main character sometimes.

You can tell he's nervous, his eyes are watching the wheel spin round and round as you wait in line. Now it's your turn to calm his nervousness down as you wrap yourself on his bicep and lean your head on his muscles. He'll look away with a soft, goofy smile before taking his free hand and giving you a soft head pat to silently thank you.

Once on the ride, Leon prefers that you sit next to him. Although he liked looking at you sitting across from him, Leon felt much more comfortable with you by his side, especially when you both were swinging higher than the treetops.

As the ride begins to move, Leon will wrap an arm around your side, planting a firm grip on your hip and pulling you close to him. Even when the cart shakes, Leon's hold is firm and keeps you stable, but that doesn't prevent you from fearfully gripping his midsection.

He'll let out a teasing laugh at your timid reaction and press a kiss on your temple as you hide your face in his chest.

Once at the very top, Leon will uncover you and take a moment to admire you. He's very keen on eye contact, so he'll hold your chin with his fingers as he expresses how much he loves you. He'll slide his fingers until they're placed on the side of your neck and pull you in for that cliche kiss to perfectly end the night.

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #leon s kennedy headcanons #leon scott kennedy headcanons

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asherloki · 2 years ago

Text

Innocence!

Bbc Sherlock x virgin reader!

Warning:- fingering, age gap, sexual context!

Request:- Can I request 14 and 29 from the smut prompts with sherlock please? I can’t wait to see what you come up with! ~ anon!

Prompt list!

"Ugh, I said no" y/n said on phone annoyingly before hanging up. Sherlock was stunned to see her in such a mood. His roommate, or rather little roomate is always childish (like him) but what caused her to be annoyed. He calls her little roommate because she always acts like a baby and was also quite younger than him.

"What's wrong little...." Sherlock was about to say his favourite nickname for her but y/n stopped him.

"Don't you dare say that, I'm very mad."

"I just wanted to know what's wrong" said Sherlock.

"Ugh, this fucking guy friend of mine want's to hookup with me"

"Oh" said Sherlock as this topic he tends to avoid cause he's way too ahead of this, "so what's stopping you."

"I don't want to" snaps y/n

"Wait wait wait, don't tell me it's Chris" Sherlock asks now, he's now perfectly invested in solving y/n's case.

"What... How do you know that?" Asked she.

"Oh because when you received the call you were happy and when he talked of hooking up you were annoyed, you totally have a crush on him but you may not be ready for sex and it's totally fine." Said Sherlock.

"No I can't hide a thing from you" y/n snapped again.

"Mmmm no you can't" said he and gave a mischievous smile, which said 'i'll always win'.

"But it's not that I'm not ready." She started to explain.

"So?" Sherlock enquired putting his laptop down.

"I don't want a casual hookup, I can only sleep with someone I love, and also..."

"And also?" He asked.

"Nothing but yeah just casual hookup ain't my thing."

"Hmmm... What kinda men do you like though." Asked Sherlock and this did the trick. She blushed and looked away, Sherlock always noticed how she'd stare at him when he's inside in his house robes, how domestic, he noticed she'd stare at his long fingers and there's something about her blush when Sherlock is to close to her. He knew she might like him. But he was too older. Over ten years, so he preferred to keep it platonic, but he knows the truth, when she comes out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe, water still dripping from hair, it does makes Sherlock stare too. When she watches herself in the mirror and wears lipstick, winks at her own reflection Sherlock does stares then as well. Y/n thought before answering him, "i don't think I have a specific type but if I have sex, I'd want someone who'd care for me because...."

"Because?"

"I don't know anything about it honestly." She admitted. Sherlock got up and said, "sit here little...."

"No, not that name". She warned.

"Okay, come sit we'll discuss about this Chris guy."

She sits on his couch and takes her phone in hand. When He suddenly came close to y/n. His face very close to her, she liked it. She even blushed furiously,

"Wh-what?" She asked softly.

"Nothing just... wanna taste my cupcake." He replied seductively.

Slowly he pressed his lips on hers. She returned the the kiss. She knew how to kiss thankfully but the next thing was new, Sherlock slipped a tongue inside her mouth and so did she. She cupped his face and enjoyed their tongues dancing. Then His lips went from her lips to her soft cheeks and then neck and collarbone, no one ever visited those places. Her whimpers and gasps reflected her inexperience. She caught his back and the upper arm tightly as his hand went to touch her delicate soft thighs, then to upwards.

"Sherlock" his name came out as whimper as he touched exactly where even she herself never did. Sherlock lifted his face from her neck and enquired with baffled eyes, "you never touched yourself?"

In reply y/n could only shake her head. To this, Sherlock gave a mischievous smirk. And his hand slide inside her panties to touch where she needed to be. Her eyes closed in pleasure and in embarrassment. Sherlock exploring her. The places of her body which no body ever has. His fingers touched her slit and the clit. She couldn't help but whimper softly.

"You're wet, so wet." Sherlock said, rather whispered.

"I've never been... Ah touched like this before". Y/n replied.

"Good" he whispered to her ear, intentionally so his voice send shivers down her spine. He rubbed his finger against her clit. This was enough for her to moan. She gripped him tightly almost her small nails as if it would dig in his flesh making holes in his coat. "Oh fuck" she moaned followed by a hum. Her innocent child like face making such sounds? Sherlock may have been more turned on by her helpless state, her innocent face. She was absolutely inexperienced when it came to sex.

"I never knew you make such sweet noises" teased Sherlock.

"Neither do I." She replied rather whispered between her pleasure.

As she grew more wet he took this opportunity to slide his finger in her. This was new to her too. A sudden low scream came out of her mouth.

"Shhhh don't let Mrs Hudson know". Said he. And started to finger her. She rolled her eyes once he got the rhythm, in pleasure.

"You like it little cupcake?" Asked he . She could hardly talk back, yet tried and said, "don't stop please". Looking at him with her puppy eyes, Sherlock wouldn't admit but he was a sucker for that baby face and her puppy eyes.

"I don't intend to." He replied and fastened his speed.

"Keep doing what you're doing, please Sherlock." She pleaded.

"I got you". He fingered her harder until he felt she was close and came all over his finger. He held her and she panted for her first time experiencing something like that.

"This is how you do it." Sherlock said with a smile. A smile which had care and mischief both. To this she needed to reply to her detective. She turned and smirked. Her confidence grew alot after this so she said,

"Maybe you can teach me something more."

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock smut

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homestuckreplay · 7 months ago

Text

Put The Cruxite Dowel Back In The Box

(page 394-400)

400 pages!! What's next, 500? Dare I say 600? Given that we've had a few interactive pages recently that can't be easy to make, it's amazing that Homestuck is hitting these numbers already.

The past 16 pages have very quickly flicked back and forth between John and Rose, and by extension, between video games and real life. John's fully inside Sburb, in what we can probably think of as another dimension, while Rose is very much on earth. Because John is still in his house, it's really easy to forget how separated he is from the world. This rapid back and forth really reflects the constantly online + video game logic of their lives more generally. They are extremely used to crossing these boundaries, going from their daily efforts to navigate their physical houses and strife with their parents, to their Pesterchum conversations and the various other games that are part of their lies.

Another big theme in this section is Rose and John figuring things out on their own. John had Rose to walk him through the Sburb 'tutorial level', but he's no longer getting explicit instructions. The Wayward Vagabond, the Data Structures for Assholes book, and we as the reader are all giving him some information on winning his first Sburban Strife, but he's doing some of the work putting all those pieces together. I guess that can happen when you have a very steep learning curve and no time to process the traumatic things happening to you.

On Rose's end, I'm reading too much into her leaving the W stuck to the generator. A plastic fridge magnet is a kids' toy, so this is her putting away childish things, and no longer allowing herself the luxury of being silly like on p.370. But it's also a symbol of Rose's cold war with her mom, so she's walking away from that petty rivalry and towards something that - in this moment - is more serious and important, towards an actual symbol of death, which is a much darker and more adult concept. And it's honestly really sad. She should be allowed to be silly, she should be allowed to take the W, she shouldn't be on her own having to handle apocalyptic disasters. Something or someone has failed her for that to be the case.

'You wonder if your mother has any plans to have [the transformer] fixed. You guess she'd rather just play her mind games in a dark house like a weirdo.' Coming a couple pages before the W incident, I love this line. Because it is 100% reasonable that fixing the electricity is not top priority, or even possible, in the middle of a meteor shower/forest fire. But I think it's a very relatable teen emotion to dislike someone for a valid reason and then to criticize every single action they take, justified or otherwise.

I had a lot of fun with John's strife on p.397 - even when I realized it was unwinnable, I played it a few more times just cause I liked it. The controls are smooth, the programming is good, the hammer bonk noise is really satisfying. It's also interesting how the shale imp - unlike John - doesn't take visible physical damage, and from the way the health bar moves out of the vial, it's almost like the health bar is being attacked directly. I have no idea what this means though.

Even more interesting is how we can deplete exactly half of the shale imp's health with the hammer's handle, and no more. Then, when we weaponize John's sylladex on p.400, the imp is easily able to parry all of the objects except for the hammer head, which instantly depletes the other half of its health. Weaponizing a sylladex might be possible to smash a window or even to strife with Dad, but it doesn't seem to work in game. Only John's One True Chosen Weapon is effective here.

Finally, John gets some loot!!!! 32 units of build grist, good for 16 perfectly generic objects, and 10 units of shale. Looking back at p.157, that means when Rose is back online, she can deploy the Punch Designix, which... designs punch cards? This could finally be a chance to experiment with alchemy mechanics!

#I am eating some very good soup while writing this :)#homestuck #reaction #chrono

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toxicincestenjoyer-fig · 7 months ago

Text

I'm noticing as I go through the tag that remrom is very sweet which is not at all what I was expecting.

Like Remus is the embodiment of Intrusive Thoughts, he has no qualms about saying what's on his mind, and he can easily figure out what exactly you hate whether about yourself, others or both. He's pretty damn good at getting a reaction out of the other sides too, he's almost childish in the way he enjoys testing the others.

Then there's Roman, the man is insecure. He's easy to lead on if you feed into his ego but as the ego he's also easily bruised. He's desperate to feel valuable, when Janus buttered him up he had such a hard time not giving in because the others rarely play to his pride so much. Yet he despises Janus, more so he despises the concept of the dark sides(A concept that he made up), likely because he knows he's egocentric and selfish as hell, things that C!Thomas's morals say are bad. As the dashing prince he's supposed to be a beacon of good in the world, the fact that he's so often so close to those he deems to be the 'Dark Sides' in behavior disturbs him. It hurts his black and white view of the world and as the ego he can't let that world view get shattered because that world view literally informs his identity, C!Thomas's identity.

Then you bring in Remus, Remus who already knows all of that. Who knows exactly what makes Roman tick and unlike Roman doesn't have the insecurities(As far as I can tell). And unlike the other sides who merely play the roles of a family(Patton as the dad is the most obvious but also that thing with like the cousin aunt mom friend group assigned family roles type deal) he and Roman are ATCUAL siblings, twins no less! Reflections of eachother and he knows that Roman hates what he sees. Remus doesn't though, Remus doesn't care about his image. He just enjoys the reactions he can get out of others.

Each side has unique reactions to his 'contributions' but no one else reacts quite like Roman. Even Virgil tends to simply regard him with disgust. Roman reacts to him like an insult. To Roman Remus's very existence is an act of violence against his character and he HATES it. He takes things so personally and he's so reactive.

I dunno, I kinda expected there would be more Remus manipulating and fucking with Roman. They're siblings, Roman doesn't like Remus and Remus is literally Intrusive Thoughts. There's a lot there, like how one of the most common types of Intrusive Thoughts are those of incest.

Remus would have no problem making a few sexual jokes about him and Roman and it'd get to Roman every time. I can imagine Roman chasing Remus around the mind place with his sword after one of his jokes. One of the sides tries to calm him down after they lose eachother, reminding him that 'Its okay, what Remus says has no real impact. Its just nonsense.' and Roman gets that, like he understands that but it doesn't stop the humiliation he experiences every time it happens, the way it damages his image to even have the thought of doing something like that with his brother?!

Roman almost certainly has taboo desires as well, almost certainly not about his brother but that doesn't change the fact that Remus loves to bring them up all the time. None of the other sides know that Remus is airing out Roman's dirty laundry, only them two. And Remus knows that whenever Roman thinks about those taboo desires of his that he deems to be so wretched he knows he'll be imagining Remus as the subject of them, after all, that's exactly how Intrusive Thoughts works. The more Roman tries to expel Remus out of his life the easier it is for him to stick around. Logically he knows that its not helping, that his disdain for Remus is only gonna make the thoughts worse but that's the issue isn't it? When the thoughts in your head are attacking your morals, your integrity, your ego, there's only so much logic can help before one's emotions get the better of them.

And Roman is very emotional.

#remrom #FigRambles #Does this make sense?#I feel like I jump around so much but I've been typing for an hour and I have no Idea how else to phrase it #I feel like I'm not making sense #Maybe i'm just connect to this ship differently #I don't tend to be an enjoyer of sweet incest so that's probably it #I find appeal in the specific ways a family dynamic affects relationships for the worse #I think im gonna delete this later 3 am thoughts have my brain in a mush

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hacked-by-jake · 9 months ago

Note

SPOILERS

Alright I have way too many thoughts and emotions so there ain't no way I'm gonna be able to organize everything into a nice sentence but I still gotta get it out 🤣🤣

First off, my notes app with some of my thoughts I wrote down while playing (in chronological order):

Where's Jake?

No premium?

Why and where is nymos

Why are we playing candy crush instead of hacking

Again: Where's Jake, he prob sees our chats and knows whats happening (hopefully)

The characters seem like an almost identical reflection to duskwood

What happened to Richy, please don't die on me 😩

Where's the others

We're now paying to see the secret chats

Why's this game taking so much of my money

Ash really be making me cry about Jake again 🥴

Eric be throwing himself at us when I still want to stay loyal to my hacker boy 💀

The ending: I KNEW MY BABY WAS ALIVE I LOVE HIM, I DEMAND HE TALKS TO US NEOW 👹

AND ALAN I MISSED HIM TOO MWAH MWAH

Rant 1:

The money milking makes me sick and don't even get me started on the ai 🫡 I spent 17 bucks today, halfway through the first episode and already out of all the materials I bought. It's disgusting how Everbyte has completely flipped and is practically scamming their players. Based on the prices, it's almost 3 dollars to view one picture 🙄 I would be more than happy to buy a premium package like duskwood for $20 or even 30 but $17 for not even half an episode is a crime 😭😭

Rant 2:

It's crazy how long this game took and yet it's way worse than duskwood. I was expecting a few additions, not subtractions.

Rant 3:

There is no way to see previous media and calls like in duskwood and no chat history like they promised. I never would've thought it was possible, but these mini games are way worse than duskwoods. And I realized how childish it all looks, I hate how we get no explanation for anything we're doing in the game.

Conclusion:

I'm pissed but seeing the anonymous mask gave me life. I need to go replay duskwood to cleanse myself of moonvale 😮‍💨

Pahahaha you're really killing me with your thoughts, I love your humor so much. 😭

I really should also start to write down my first thoughts while playing but I fear I will write down something to every little sentence I read. xD

But it's so true, where's Nymos? Give us Nymos back! My emotional bond with this unreal little dude is huge so I seriously need him. It's literally a program but it's a he you can't change my mind because I imagine Nymos as Jake best friend who's exactly like Jarvis from Marvel. (Sorry if you don't know it but then I really recommend you to watch the Iron Man movies. (Actually all marvel movies but we're talking about Jarvis here so you best see or more like hear him in Iron Man)

Btw my headcanon is that Nymos is not just any program but also an AI. So and now I will expand the headcanon and say Nymos is an AI that is against AI art and nobody can stop me, hehe.

The Candy Crush comparison makes me laugh every time and it hurts me because it’s true. xD

The thing with the characters being identical with the Duskwood characters... It's a hard topic in my eyes.

Some people say it way too early to judge this. And it's true. We didn't saw much now. But I do think we can already judge them a bit by what we saw. And when we compare it with how the Duskwood characters were in the first episode, I do think you can see that there's not much yet, sadly.

Like, we had Thomas, the idiot in love with problems to take criticism. We had Jessy the hanger-on that were clinging to Dan but then decided to change sides. We had the funny sunny boy Richy. The pretty cold acting Cleo. We had bitchy Lilly and of course we had the grumpy and unfriendly Dan. They all acted pretty strong from second one, in my eyes.

But I somehow absolutely don't think the Moonvale characters are like the Duskwood characters. Because well, I really think they need stronger personalities.

We have Eric who's a pretty normal guy and even though he tripped twice in one episode he's not at all like Thomas.

We have Ash who's like a very, veeery light version of Jessy and Lilly, in my eyes. Somehow kind but somehow absolutely not trustworthy.

We have Violet who's just.. there sometimes. Even the drunken police chief is more expressive.

Well and Charlie is.. Somehow like Richy and in my eyes has the strongest personality so far.

Oh and not to forget Brian who wasn't even there. Lol.

So yeah, I understand both points but I might see it a bit differently.

"Why's this game taking so much of my money" had me on my knees, laughing and crying at the same time because it's almost funny what Everbyte did and it's just as sad.

During my first playthrough I was also like: Someone give me a crucifix I need to get rid of Eric as soon as possible.

But while replaying I just had to see what happens if you decide to get closer with Eric and I swear it didn't disappoint me. It was hilarious and truly, I want this with Jake. I need such a chat with Jake! Everbyte, please!

I mean, I'm not flirting with Eric because I think he's hot or anything. Sadly, his character isn't interesting to me in this sense. (I need the mysterious guys xD) But I just had to try it and I mean, who knows if it will be important later. It's manipulative, I know, but don't judge me. And also, there's still this little hope for a jealous Jake. *ahem* Sorry, I promise I still feel bad for flirting with someone else. 😩

But gosh, the side story end. It was worth all the wait, really. I said before, I don’t forget about the negative things because of it but I'm just a silly, lonely, disappointed girl in love with a fictional hacker, let me have this adrenaline boost!

And yes, I was so happy when I saw Alan's body cam. I immediately knew what that means but at first I was just so happy to "see" Alan as well. I really like this guy, I can't stop myself.

About rant 1: I love the comparison with "So expensive is a picture" it is just as true and actually shows again how incredible it all is. I’ve said my opinion many times now, and I still want to protect Everbyte and give them a little empathy. But it's sadly just true.

I had a thought about that (what you said in rant 2) before and wanted to make a post about it later. So I hope it's okay if I get to it later.

Rant 3: This is actually one of the things that botherse the most. We can't rewatch calls, videos and pictures. The chats are disappearing and are gone forever. And they told us it will be different and that's so annoying. Not being able to see it in the app is just bothering for me. And yeah, that they broke the "promise" is as well. We all were so happy about the chat thing and now...

I actually like the look of Moonvale even if I would prefer something much darker. Especially with the mini games. The background is AI, of course, so. It would look much better with a real background.

And the damn mini games... I loved the ones in Duskwood so much. I really did. It was so much fun and I was one of the people who found them very easy.

But now the Moonvale mini games. By lord. Even though they're much easier for me in my replay, the first time I was actually this close to throwing my phone against the wall. I mean, I even went to sleep at some point and finished the game the next day! Everyone who follows me since duskwood knows I would rather shave my head than that. But they're just pain. And I seriously hope Everbyte will make them a bit easier or give us moves! Because this was often the biggest issue for me. Not enough moves. But they want you to buy gems so... 😒

Your conclusion sound good. I'm definitely planning to replay Duskwood as well. If I want or not. I have to. I need the comforting atmosphere and my emotional support hacker.

So I would say, see you in Duskwood, my detective friend. 🫡

No, jokes aside. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me and us. As I said, I love your humor and the way to describe the things. And I really enjoyed answering it. 💚

I hope you could calm down a bit as well. I definitely needed some days before I could see it more clearly.

And as always a huge pleasure to see you here again. 💚😌

#thank youuuuu!! 💚#have a great day/evening/night!#hoeforfanfics #moonvale #moonvale thoughts #moonvale game #moonvale criticism #everbyte criticism #moonvale episode 1 #moonvale spoiler #moonvale episode 1 spoiler #hbj mv x dw answers #duskwood side story #everbyte studio #everbyte game #everbyte moonvale #moonvale everbyte

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wisteria-prompts · 1 year ago

Note

i wanna know what... things muzan would do if they caught their s/o in a maid outfit-

Hi I'm not dead

(This isn't proofread, but this should be gn!reader)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Maid!Reader (Suggestive)

Let’s say Douma put you up to this…Because let’s be honest, he absolutely would.

And because you, too, would like to see Muzan’s reaction, you go along with it.

So here you are, dolled up in a maid’s outfit, stockings, headband and all, looking at your reflection in the mirror and wondering how he’d react.

Douma is cooing over you as his servants fuss over your outfit, trying to make it as perfect and presentable as possible. After all, only the best for lord Muzan!

They all scram the moment Muzan’s presence is announced within the cult, and Douma is the first to proudly present you in all your glory as soon as Muzan steps foot in the room.

“Douma, I need you to-” Muzan starts, but the words catch in his throat when his eyes land on the only two people in the dimly lit room. The sight of Douma is expected, even as he poses dramatically with his arms outstretched like a showroom girl towards you. He can expect the second upper moon to be childish, and lackadaisical like that.

He can’t, however, expect something like this out of you.

You, who stood demurely within the center of the room, a bashful yet hopeful look upon your face as you stare at Muzan, your lover. The elegant and tasteful maid’s outfit drapes your form well, the black main portion of the dress contrasting with the white frills of its edges and accessories. Even the headband, adorned with the same frills and the addition of a large bow, complimented your features well. You had to say, even if it wasn’t exactly your style, you looked damn good in it.

It was several moments, however, before Muzan reacted beyond a blank stare, and you were starting to have doubts about giving in to Douma’s suggestion…And then Muzan blinked. “What is this tomfoolery you two are getting into again? Is this some sort of prank?” He says, tone level and as if he’d experienced this kind of thing thousands of times before. With Douma, perhaps he had, but not with you.

Douma sighed heavily, putting the back of his hand on his forehead. “My my, milord, I must say I’m rather dismayed at this lackluster response. Do you truly have no opinion on how absolutely stunning our Y/N looks~?” He says dreamily, provoking a response from the Demon lord.

“One more word and Akaza might be promoted after all.” Muzan retorts quickly, the chill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. Douma, as always, seems unaffected. For you, however, the shiver isn’t off fear…At least, not entirely.

“Right, right, well…What is it you needed of me again, milord?” Douma sighs again, and resumes his place on his throne.

The encounter continues as per normal, with you waiting by the sidelines in your cute maid dress, having wanted a bit more of a reaction from Muzan himself…Even if you didn’t need it per se, it would be nice, no?

But you resign yourself to never receiving the praise you so desired.

That is, until you two are alone, back in the Infinity Castle…

“Just what do you think you’re doing, parading around like that in front of Douma?” The demon king hisses in your ear, the entirety of his body pressed almost painfully against yours as he pins you to the wall. You’re trembling under his greedy hands, prodding and caressing your form over the confines of your dress.

“He’s not allowed to see you in this, ever. Understood?” He nips at your earlobe, and you nod shakily, unable to speak.

“You’re mine, my love. No one else can see you in such an outfit, your beauty unparalleled…No one else can have you like this.” He emphasizes his words with a rough tug on the bow of your apron, the cloth falling to the floor with a soft sound. Before you know it, parts of your outfit are being untied, shoved aside, unbuttoned…But still left on your body, even as he ravishes the skin it hides with hands shoved under the cloth.

“Since you think so lightly of having let Douma behold you in this outfit, I think you deserve to be punished, no?” He whispers dangerously in your ear, and you can only nod in agreement.

Maybe you should have been careful what you wished for.

#demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji

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frenchmina · 1 year ago

Text

Tea and Time

A/N : This is my second ever fic, another one shot I wanted to write in opposition to the very angsty first one. I was talking with my best friend about what we considered being moments of true happiness, and this little fic is what was born from the conversation. I hope you enjoy, don't hesitate to tell me how you felt about it since I'm just starting out in fic writing ! Also, english is not my first langage so there might be some mistakes, sorry about those.

Pairing : Joel Miller x reader / no physical description of reader. No use of Y/N.

WC : 3.1k

Warnings : None really, it's just pure fluff and tenderness. There's just mention of the reader's fear of abandon.

Summary : A lazy sunday with Joel allows you to reflect on what love truly means to you.

You would hear the ticking of the clock if you had one. One of those ancient machines made of wood and glass which made their grand musical entrance during complete silences — tic… tic… tic…

Your grand mother had one in her living room, you remember it ticking away since you were old enough to understand the concept of time. You would look at it intensely and try to will the needles to slow down, because, let’s face it, there was no way in hell you weren’t a witch.

That certainty had, since those days at your grandma’s, seen some bumps in the road. First of all, you had not received your letter to Hogwarts, which had been a bummer. If you were being honest, you still blamed the postal system and its incompatibility with owls. But as time passed, you had made peace with the fact that you would not be a wand-wielding sorcerer and had tried your hand at potions. Dirt mixed with worms, grass and gravel made a poor soup, but if you added the picture of a loved one and some of your family cat’s hair found on your clothes, then you were supposed to be able to ask anything out of your mother and she would comply… As time had passed, grass and dirt had turned into mint and rosemary, essentials oils and lemon, turmeric for the immune system and ginger to fight off a creeping cold.

Some people would say you made tea. You knew better than to mistake your magic for tea making, and so did Joel.

You two had just come back from a long walk in the woods near your house, walking the same path you would always walk on Sundays, the one where your hands knew exactly when to be joined and when not to be. It was almost like a danse, interlocking your fingers with his on the wider parts of the path, unlocking at the fallen oak to make your way behind him towards the pond, and locking again at the makeshift bridge he had built after you’d almost fallen in the little stream twice. It was the middle of February and as usual you had been arrogant enough not to take your winter coat with you.

“You gon’ be cold baby” he had drawled, knowing you well enough to tell you were about to argue that —

“I’m not a child, Joel” with that look on your face that betrayed how childish you were being.

“Ain’t saying you are, love.” He had tried and failed to hide the playful smile tugging at his lips, which made any hesitation you might have had about bringing the coat vanish. Your dignity sometimes laid in weird places; he loved that about you.

Of course you had been cold. Of course he had had to hold you tight in his arms while you had stopped to listen to the myriad of little sounds the birds and squirrels and insects and wind in the trees made in the deepest part of the woods. Some part of you might even have made the conscious choice not to put on that damn coat so he would embrace you in his warmth. He had done so with no more playfulness, just plain tenderness and love, his fingers drawing lazy circles where they laid on your sides, sending little jolts of electricity throughout your spine — alongside with the shivers of cold.

You chugged off your boots in the entryway, not giving a crap about where they landed, and made your way to the kitchen.

“Gonna make me some tea, do you want some ?“ You had a habit of always asking him that, although you knew he was a coffee man and didn’t drink any o’ that leaf soup, as he called it.

You heard him sigh behind you.

“Hell, why not.“

You stopped dead in your tracks and slowly turned to face him. You didn’t have to say anything, the shock on your face was enough to prompt him to explain.

“You’re always goin’ on about how good it is for ya…“

“Yeah… Yes, I am…“

“Come on dun make a big deal outta this…“

“I’m not !“ You cut him, the shock on your face slowly turning into a proud smile. “I’m not I swear, I’m just glad you’re finally acknowledging my talents as a potion maker…“

“I ain’t saying that yet“ he laughed, “lemme try and then I’ll be able to acknowledge whatever ya want.“

As you were carefully choosing what to pair with fresh mint leaves and valerian, you heard Joel moving to the living room and, with a content sigh, drop heavily on the couch. You smiled, conjuring the mental image of him spread out on the sofa, head resting on the back of it, hand coming to rest lazily on his thigh. You could just close your eyes and see him, the exact spot he was siting in, how his left arm rested on the green cushion.

The water was slowly starting to boil and the kettle made more and more noise, drawing you away from your little daydream. It amazed you how after multiple years together you still found your thoughts drifting towards him at every chance. Even that domestic image of him sitting on your couch made your heart flutter and a well-known warmth radiate from your chest.

Orange blossoms. It’s exactly what you needed to ensure relaxation, and that Joel would actually like it.

The water was boiled and as the kettle’s rumbling died down, you started to hear faint sounds coming from the next room. A melody, drawn from an aging guitar by expert fingers. Joel did not play often, he was unbelievably shy about it which kept him from working on it as often as he’d have liked to. Your fingers came to a halt, a bunch of herbs slipping from them as you listened closer; it was a new song, one you had never heard him play, but you recognized it instantly : Helplessly hoping, one of your all times favorite. It drew immediate tears from your eyes, your heart swelling and swelling so much you thought it was about to burst out of your chest and yell out its love for him.

But then, without you realizing, it morphed into something else. The feeling of a weighted rock on your stomach, blood running colder in your veins, the tears threatening to be ones of fear.

You breathed. One. Two. Three. You were okay.

You were not about to lose this. He was not going away, not leaving you here alone, not running away. And if he wasn’t running towards the exit, you were damn well obligated to return the favor. It crept up on you like that sometimes. The fear that what you had was way too good to be true. It felt like a Damocles sword hanging above your head, always here to remind you that at the slightest mistake, at the second you were not exactly perfect, you would loose everything. Although everybody had told you that it didn’t happen that way, your experience proved them wrong. From your best friend of 8 years never returning your calls all of a sudden and moving across the country without telling you, to the boyfriend who had told you one day he had actually stopped loving you months ago, to all those tiny abandonments we all go through in life, you had learned not to expect anyone or anything to stick with you. And maybe, at one point, you had started to believe you weren’t worth the trouble of saying goodbye.

Joel had not actually said anything to ease the fear that he would be leaving, he had just not left. Never. And while the fear creeps up on you, whispering in your ear to just get the hell out before he inevitably abandons you, it’s the only thing keeping you together : he hasn’t left, has not promised anything more than what he’s capable of giving you, but most of all he’s proven time and time again that he would always be honest, that he would never hide his fears and doubts from you. He’ll never leave you alone with the eternal nagging question about why you were not good enough.

You slowly calm your breathing. You can’t control him, can’t make him stay if he doesn’t want you, he’s utterly free — and you are too. You are free enough to choose to be here, to choose to listen to him playing your favorite song on his worn out guitar while making him tea and actually enjoy it. You’re free to let go, he made sure of that. So you do.

You listen. You take it in. This gorgeous man who’s had the time to define what he wants out of life, and who, with that knowledge, has decided to put his energy into learning a song he knows fills your heart with joy just to be able to see you smile.

He’s been working on it for a while now, the chords actually gave him a hard time. It’s gonna need a bit of work still, he thinks to himself while trying to pay attention to the noises coming from the kitchen. Did you hear him yet ? He wanted to be able to play it in front of you, to say “Here it is my love, I learned it so you could sing along to your favorite song.“ But he is such a coward… He would not take it well if he saw the slightest hint of disappointment in your eyes, but he also knows you would never be disappointed in him. Throughout your years together, he’s learned you would never expect anything of him but the best he could be or do, even if it was messing up one chord out of three in your favorite song.

You were so understanding, so sweet with his mistakes — and he had made a bunch. You would always take him by the hand and squeeze it just tight enough to tell him I’m here, I believe in you. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt; he doesn’t actually know how he could live without your love, now that he has had a taste of it. Everything in his life was made better by your presence. He had learned that he was okay, that he was worth someone’s trust. He wouldn’t be able to un-learn it.

He also knew perfectly well that learning to play a song you liked or giving you his coat without a second thought when you were cold was just what you needed to trust him. He did not need to prove anything to you, to tell you over and over how stunning and loved you were — although to be fair he did tell you more than enough — he just needed to be there. And he was. Oh how he was. The depths of his commitment to you, to your life together, were lost on you he was sure. Your own insecurities prevented you from seeing how desperately in love he was with you, which made him realize that, as alike as you both were, you might love him with ten times the strength he thought you did.

He was content to love you mostly in secret : in the little noise you made as you were falling asleep, in the way you brow furrowed and you clicked your tongue slightly when you were unhappy about something, in the way your eyes switched colors in the sun, or how you’d always bit your lower lip while reading a book. He loved you like he breathed, each exhale a song he would learn for you.

You appear out of the corner of his eye, and he immediately catches the tiniest sign that you might have cried.

“You good sweetheart ?“

You respond with a sort of sad smile he has come to recognize as the one you give him when you’re battling your inner demons. He won’t push, he knows you’ll speak if and when you want to, and you know he’ll never turn you down when you need him.

“Common then, let’s see if y’are a good witch or an evil one. Will this…“ he smells the fuming tea out of his favorite mug “mixture a’ yours turn me into a frog or a prince ?“

You scoff, he’s offering you playfulness to get out of your meltdown and you take it gladly. “You’ll just have to drink it and see, a witch never tells“ you lean towards him to teasingly rub the tip of your nose along his, and hear his breath briefly catch in his throat before you let yourself plop down on the couch next to him.

Joel carefully puts down the guitar in its case, brings the tea to his lips, stops for an instant and studies your face, as if looking for a proof this actually is about to transform him into a frog. You don’t say anything, relishing in the feeling of his attentive gaze on you.

“Nah… you ain’t about to turn me into nothin’, I’d be useless to you as a frog.“ Before you even have the time to think about a snarky response, he’s gulping down a huge sip of tea. Your eyes widen.

“Shit ! Fuckin’— god dammit — fuck it’s hot !“

“Why would you…“

“Turning me into a damn volcano that’ what you’re tryin’na do ?“

“Not my fault you’re chugging the damn thing like it’s a beer ! “ You say while trying to hide your laughter and getting up to get him a glass of water, but his hand lands on your arm and he pulls you back towards him.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’, witch ?“ You laugh wholeheartedly now, which elicits a smile on his lips. He’s enclosing you in his embrace now, his strong arms wrapping around your frame and pressing you to him. The mug has found its place on the coffee table again, the two of you tangled in each-other, time starting to pass at a whole new pace. You don’t really know if it’s going faster or slower, it just isn’t on the same rhythm as the rest of the world anymore. The seconds might be hours, the hours weeks, or the other way around. In movies, the ticking of the clock would slow, completely disappear even, to let the spectator know reality was slipping.

Time doesn’t feel like time anymore when you’re this close to him. He is like your own human sized black hole.

Joel hums and you feel the vibration throughout your entire body. It’s like you’re both tuned to one another, the waves of him resonating with yours; and in that instant, in that shared understanding of how much you both belong here in this moment, you start to believe you might actually be a witch. Because how else would you have been able to reach this type of calmness with someone ? Your eyes closed, your ears drowned in the sound of him, you picture your love as an oak, unmoved by time. Its seed grown from the adoration and trust you have for each other, made to withstand cataclysms, storms and droughts all the same, grown by the light of his loyalty and the rain of your empathy. A tree connected to the rest of the world by roots that sink deeper in you and him by the day, allowing the two of you to communicate without words. Those days, you realize, those uneventful and boring days when you just allow yourself to exist in his presence, are what nourishes that type of love.

“C’mon, put your feet on the couch and lay your head on my shoulder.“ He whispers, barely audible.

You manage to do just that without ever completely detangling from each-other’s embrace; and end up laid down on the couch, your head resting on his chest and his arm around you. To your surprise, he reaches for the mug with his other hand and takes another, more careful sip.

“So… you actually like it ?“

There’s a long silence before he answers.

“Don’t hate it.“ He admits.

The sun pierces through the clouds and warms up your face. A gentle sleepiness starts to overcome you when Joel’s fingers expertly land on your head and play with your hair. It’s safe, sweet, and loving. Like your whole being is bathed in his warmth.

His hand in your hair tells you the story words never could : he’ll never leave you stranded, never vanish without an explanation. You’re his best friend, his light, and whatever happens between the two of you, whatever life throws at you, you’ll always have a place by his side.

This is what love means, you think. No promises to be broken, no emphatic speeches about what you mean to one another, no grand gestures or empty pledges about what you’ll always or never do. Just this common understanding that your lives are intertwined wether you’re next to each other or not, just those tiny gestures and caring acts that tell how kind you’re willing yourselves to be for the other. The space to make mistakes and to let the other one make some to, the space to grow. Watering the oak tree.

It’s a fucking marvel, he is a fucking marvel. You listen to his heartbeat finding a common rhythm with yours, and you can feel his eyes closing as your own do, while his fingers still play with strands of your hair like they played the guitar, drawing a melody of happiness out of you just as well as they drew the notes from the instrument.

“I love you.“ You say, voice clear despite you slowly drifting to sleep. There’s a stillness in the silence that follows, you know he’s just taking it in, letting the emotion run through him before responding.

“I love you too.“

Another silence.

“Promise it’s not the potion talking?“ You tease and he chuckles. You relish the sound.

“If it was, it’d be a hell of a potion to make me feel that way… Goes to show how powerful of a witch you are though.“ He could say so much more, but you don’t need him to. You understand him just fine in the way he caresses your shoulder softly before returning his hand to your hair.

You would hear the ticking of the clock if you had one. Since you don’t, you’ll make do with your very own metronome : your heart and his, setting the rhythm of whatever comes next.

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Thank you so much for reading, looking forward to what you thought of it ! Requests are open if you feel like giving me some inspo !

#He is my end goal #pedro pascal #tlou #walk in the woods #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel the last of us #tenderness #fluff #witches #tea #joel miller fic #what it means to be happy

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stealerofthe2ndbraincell · 4 months ago

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what are your top 5 in9 episode endings?

Oooh I loved thinking about this, thank you! It was great re-examining these episodes specifically through that lens.

Honourable mentions to The Last Weekend and Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room. With the former I'd feel like I was repeating myself a bit.

5. The Bones of St. Nicholas

When making this list, this was tied with BCDR but I feel like TBOSN is incredibly underrated so I thought I might as well.

With the frequent flashes back to different "Warning's" Jasper was given in regards to his fate, this episode could have easily felt like it was spoon feeding details to you. Imo it avoids that completely.

I really like the decision to not make whatever supernatural force is involved explicit in nature or even that malevolent. Granted the motorbike accident with Posy and Jasper's hanging still happens, but the narrative doesn't seem to paint them as a result of evil intent.

We as the audience get to see exactly how Jasper ended up in that situation and, although his actions to reach St. Nicholas' jawbone were quite extreme, it still feels understandable how Jasper never picked up on those clues even when they're in your face - similar to the audience. He's realising what's going on at the same time as the audience.

I think this ending does an excellent job at using those flashbacks to give the audience just the right amount of information without forcing it down your throat and removing the mystery entirely.

Finally, the last bit of Jasper hanging from the tower as the other shoe drops (>:) ) was superb.

4. To Have And To Hold

The concluding shot of Adrian in chains reaching for the pot noodle is fully seared into my mind.

This isn't an ending I would call that positive, considering the surrounding circumstances and context. For example, Agnes telling Harriet that she should have left Adrian to die and reminding her of how long her torture went on for at the hands of him really reflects how not happy of an ending it is. Things are definitely better, but Adrian is still present. That uncomfortable air never vanishes.

However, it is an ending that is incredibly satisfying regardless. I think a lot of it has to do with Nicola Walker's excellent performance and that chilling recollection of the marriage vows she does before the final revelation of what has become of Adrian.

3. Mr. King

Describing it as the "ending" is pushing it a bit as the whole reveal actually takes up the last 7 minutes of a 29 minute episode, but I do really love how this one ends so I'm taking some liberty with that. lol

I love the Wickerman-esque ritual so much.

This ending makes sure to take what it's doing seriously, because otherwise it would be at risk of not matching the menacing atmosphere it contains. For example, the reveal that the criteria Alan had matched for this was having good dick and being "uncut and still sheathed" would be easy to take as ridiculous if the scene did not take it as seriously as it did - with that doll being stuffed down his trousers really driving that home.

The costume design for this ending twist is absolutely incredible. The children's masks still manage to remain intimidating within the context of the ritual sacrifice even though they are clearly made from arts and crafts materials children that age would realistically use. Winnie's entire "Mother Womb" outfit is genuinely horrifying and I'm mildly surprised they were able to get away with that in front of the child actors cause that would give me nightmares at that age. Finally, Alan's "Mr. King" mask used in the ending is so excellently made with tons of little details that I love: the little eye slits where all you get to see of his face is truly how terrified Alan is in that moment, the crown and facial hair being made seemingly from wheat to tie his sacrifice even closer to the incoming harvest etc etc.

This whole ending blends the two concepts of childish and intimidating really well where it doesn't feel suddenly dissimilar to how children talk and behave but remains so chilling and distressing throughout. Poor Alan wow.

2. The Stakeout

I love myself some vampires, what can I say more than that?

This ending contains probably my favourite twist of the whole series and reveals it in a kind of similar manner to TBOSN and achieves it's goal in a similar way - Varney's reveal of him listing down different vampire tropes that apply to him that have been scattered through the episode feels both in line with how the episode discusses tropes and never feels like it's spoon-feeding information to the audience. It also doesn't give up all the tropes seen within the episode. Just 5 that most people, and Thommo, would recognise.

The sudden shift in characterisation of Varney doesn't feel too far gone personality wise to what we've seen so far and yet he's suddenly so much intimidating.

This is even before he goes absolutely HAM on Thompson's neck. That entire feeding bit is so good. Varney feeding on Thompson is a little too long and a little too detailed for it not to discomfort the audience a bit and I love that.

(Btw it's described as very "homoerotic" in the official Inside Inside No 9 podcast, so take that as you will. I have an entire thing in my head that I could write up about how queer this entire episode is but that's unrelated and a bit rambly lmao)

That final bit with Dobson is also superb. For as little screentime as he has, Malik Ibheis as Dobson is such a great physical actor. There is that immediate impression of Dobson's absolute feral nature at this point which is done very well.

And it all feeds back to the beginning little monologue again! Love that.

1. Wise Owl

God I adore this episode.

And I especially love this ending. It's an instant tear jerker, I love it, I love Ronnie. 5 stars no notes. <333

That final sequence in the whole 70's PSA format as Ronnie grows, whilst Wise Owl is yelling the same insults desperately and pathetically is so impactful and also so different to the rest of the series in my opinion.

(Also with it keeping that style on the "Get Stuffed" final line makes it seem like Ronnie isn't even looking at his father/Wise Owl when he says it, which is perfect to me.)

In9 isn't exactly a stranger to more positive endings or an ending where a hateable individual is punished by the narrative, but Wise Owl feels a step apart, it truly feels hopeful in a way I can't say the other endings have.

I still think this episode would be really good if it had gone with a more messed up ending as I think the episode forebodes a bit, however I believe that final confrontation and the final animated sequence really makes Wise Owl as incredible as it is.

#wow i did not realise this was this long lol #thank you for the ask! sorry if this is too long and quite ramble-y #inside no 9 #in9 #the bones of st. nicholas #to have and to hold #mr king #mr. king #the stakeout #wise owl

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solarwynd · 11 months ago

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Wasn't it the comapny that gave the TXT guy (yeonjun hope that's right name) cause i remember watching a clip where he was like "I'll do my best to make the title worth" or something like that. Idk if the "IT boy" title existed before jm in kpop but what i know is he made that title relevant in kpop, he made it big and literally no one (as far now) in kpop can outdo him or even reflect half of his talents and success so the 4th gen fans fighting for IT boy for their fav is funny cause at their age jimin wasn't just getting hit tweets from stan twitter but he was making it so big that his name is the first thing that ppl remembers when they hear kpop, he's with his music since his first solo, he's got streams, big numbers, sales, recognition, brands behind him, style, artistry, like there wasn't single thing left that he wasn't rulling with so it's funny if they think their favs can have that title because they got some hit tweets on twitter cause where is everything else that jm got?? Where is the reflection of that? No where so either show it your fav getting those or shut up with that title. Nothing against any of the 4th gen idols by the way it's their fans I'm talking about. Also hybe does try to push the guy alot, they do give him alot of "spotlight" and they do want to portray him as something similar to jm but it's sadly it's not happening anywhere. Neither in perfomances nor anywhere else.

Now it's pathetic how KTHs try so hard to steal ant title they can for TH cause they kinda know he's got no relevant titles. See call me an anti or whatever but this is me being a very unbiased person but for me taehyung is the most overrated idol cause he literally is not offering anything given his status. It's only because he's good that ppl love him (same case as enwoo) cases he's neither got the voice or singing, nor the dance or perfomce, and don't get me started with his personality cause kwgsisjskshsksjskdbsjsm still can't get what "unique" the fans and members see in him. Idk maybe because he's rebellious kinda guy so they find it attractive or what but for me he's childish, immature, and a irresponsible person at many occasions so yeah. KTHs be call him main-lead dancer, lead vocalists, perfomer, IT boy (they literally have it in thier @ as if they don't know who the fandom calls it with). KTHs is nothing but stealing titles and flex the followers that reflects nowhere in his artistry cause imagine friends being his first song that surpassed 100k then 300k sales in US, having those streams, Jimin outdoing him every single time with his sales and streams whie they be flexing some magzine sales like i really find it pathetic that you got nothing to flex about his artistry so you're flexing him as some model lol

“4th gen fans fighting for IT boy for their fav is funny cause at their age jimin wasn't just getting hit tweets from stan twitter but he was making it so big that his name is the first thing that ppl remembers when they hear kpop, he's with his music since his first solo, he's got streams, big numbers, sales, recognition, brands behind him, style, artistry, like there wasn't single thing left that he wasn't rulling”

.🎯

Wouldn’t even call th “overrated” because people are very honest about exactly what his main appeal is, and that’s physicality. He’s more over praised because people have concocted that everything else he puts out somehow matches the level of his attractiveness. Which is what I’ve said before about him getting away with a lot of mediocrity because of it. No one really reveres his music because there’s nothing special or memorable about it. Some will throw in his personality like you said but it’s 👎🏾 to me. Most armys are drawn to him because he’s aloof and it makes him desirable in their eyes, but he just comes off as real pretentious and snobby.

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peppertaemint · 2 years ago

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The other day, an Anon for @reflections-in-a-critical-eye asked about SHINee 2Min lore, and Anon was referred here for further info, lol. Well, I'm not sure there is lore per se, but I can give a mini rear-view mirror take on 2Min.

Spoiler: here's 2023 Minho staring at Taemin.

The early years give a beautiful vibe of dongsaeng/hyung puppy love. They're just absolutely adorable. Minho is Taemin's closest hyung in age, and Minho has mentioned that until Taemin showed up, he was the baby.

Shippers call this moment c. 2010 the "Koala Hug." 2Min were celebrating Minho doing an extreme vaulting challenge. Yes, you read that right.

However, that vibe eventually gets tinged by SM playing with Taemin's gender presentation.

When Taemin is given extensions and suddenly bombarded with men telling him he looks like a woman etc, Minho is one of the people to confidently say that Taemin is "pretty to begin with" so there is nothing to be done about it. I always read that as him almost being prideful over it; Minho definitely likes the idea of Taemin being prettier than girl groups or his work beating out that of girl groups (read into that how you want, lol), but I think he liked Taemin exactly how he was from the get go, which is cry-inducing really.

Here's Taemin wearing Minho's father's scarf c. 2012. Okay, I guess that's pretty "lore" -ish.

If you were to go back and look at shipper blogs and live journals from 2013/2014, you would see some 2Min fans getting upset that their ship has sunk. There was this idea that when Taemin became an adult, he put away childish things (and non cis-het things) and that included Minho (lol). Many perceived Taemin had switched to a more manly look/concept, and/or that he really wanted to shed his gender neutral or ambiguous traits/looks.

Dream Girl was uh, really something.

It's true that in 2013, we see a more boyish Taemin versus Sherlock Taemin. He's also older and filling out and indeed, becoming a young adult. Interestingly, he does We Got Married (let's not go there) and goes on to start his solo career in 2014.

But I think what this "lore," or shipper narrative, reveals is how easy it was for shippers to slot 2Min into a sailing ship because they perceived Taemin to be more feminine to Minho's masculine, thus upholding heteronormative ideas of romance even in a supposedly gay "couple" - a common trait of same-sex shipping that although nuanced by certain cultural factors is still often a staple of same-sex shipping and related fanworks.

Fast-forwarding to mid-2018, we have a clingy if uneven 2Min. By the end of 2019, we have a somewhat wistful 2Min who like to attend each other's events and make grand gestures in front of the crowd.

In late 2020, we have Minho driving for hours on the day of his discharge, in uniform, to head directly to Taemin's taping for Idea at one of the TV networks in Korea. The rest of SHINee are there, and they treat us to an IG live of their reunion. 2Min are cute and a little cuddly - it's clear they missed one another. 🥹

2018 2Min have great hair colors.

What were 2021 2Min like? Friendly, feisty, and in the end, a little romantic/bromantic (pick your poison). 2Min fighting or annoying one another happened, but by the time Taemin enlisted, it was clear Minho was an emotional rock for him to some degree. And when Taemin was unwell, it was Minho who spoke to us first and then began updating us at the 14th anniversary party, with Key and Onew also speaking.

2021 2Min was also this level crazy

So, we reach the present. What are 2Min's vibes these days?

A little hands-on. Rather comfortable. Even Steven. Affectionate.

They're getting along so famously everyone is noticing.

And they're just very very cute.

There's so much more I could say, but I hope this is a good welcome aboard the good ship 2Min. The ship has strong winds and calm waters after 15+ years at sea.😌

#2Min #shinee #taeminho #2Min shinee #taemin #disclaimer: shipping is for fun let's be cool #minho #choi minho #lee taemin #kpop shipping

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chaoslovesmisery · 6 months ago

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Chapter 10. Rising Curtains and Abandoned Memory

(This is a VERY long chapter)

I look at myself once over in the mirror, the luxurious red fabric of my dress hugging my curves, exuding an aura of confidence that I'm desperately trying to project. My short hair and bangs framing my face, and my striking red eyes betray a hint of apprehension as they dart over my reflection. The sparkling diamonds mixed with deep crimson rubies around my neck catch the light, creating a cascade of brilliance that almost overwhelms me. I take a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach. Can I truly pull this off?

"It suits you" a voice says approaching me from behind. Sylus' figure enters the mirror's reflection as he leans lazily against the doorway.

"No one can stay wary when there's a beauty walking around." He says meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"The dress is a little tight, I can't fit any of my blades on my because it's too noticeable." I say turning around walking up to him. He's wearing a black blazer that's just hanging over his shoulders. His designer shirt with streaks of red, reminiscent of his Evol, which compliments his crimson eyes.

"You're just going to waltz right into a dangerous auction without a plan?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"I like how you assume I didn't make one." He says grinning.

"Find a way to make everyone lower their guard first. Then lure out the ones with ill intentions and get rid of them. Then I'll cover you when you fetch the Aether Core's other half." He says pulling a coin out of his pocket and fiddling with it. I've seen the coin a thousand times but it stirs a strange sense of nostalgia with me.

"Is that it?" I ask, trying to get my mind back on track.

"It won't fail. Promise." He says and I raise my pinky, I know it's childish but I can't help it. He gives me another once over before wrapping his pinky on mine and kissing his fist and I do the same. Our promises felt a little special. He adjusts his hand holding mine and leads me out of the door heading downstairs to the black sports car waiting at the entrance of the building.

He opens the door for me like a gentleman. I look up for a moment. In the sky, the stars are devoured by an endless darkness. The Deepspace Tunnel is silent, seemingly frozen in time. I shake my head and try to fight off the nervous feeling that something big is going to happen tonight. I can't exactly remember what had happened in the game, but this feels like a night I won't forget. After getting into the car Sylus gets in shortly after.

"What did you do with her? I bet she wasn't happy not to be going," I say as we speed down the road with city lights passing us by.

"A deal was a deal, she didn't achieve it. There was no option but to accept the results," he said coolly, his expression revealing nothing of the deeper story lurking beneath the surface. I know there is probably more to the story but I decided against pressing for more information.

The city lights outside blurred into a tapestry of trees as we sped onward, and in the comfortable silence that enveloped us, twenty tranquil minutes slipped away until we arrived at a sprawling hotel perched on the edge of the N109 Zone, where the auction awaited.

As we pulled up, a valet boy sprinted over, eager to open my door but Sylus moving with inhuman speed swung it open before him, startling the young man. Sylus seamlessly took my hand, guiding me out with an air of effortless grace. With a playful smirk, he handed over a key and the boy's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment as he struggled to find his voice after catching a glimpse of me. Flustered, he quickly directed his gaze away, hurrying to the driver's side with all the urgency of someone trying to shake off a spell of enchantment.

"I'm not the only one who thinks you look lovely tonight," Sylus remarked, a playful lilt in his voice as I wrapped my arm around his, allowing him to escort me up the stairs.

"You're not too bad yourself," I teased lightly, eliciting a chuckle from him. At the top we were greeted by a sharply dressed man in a suit who glanced at our linked arms with curiosity. I slipped my arm away, smoothing my dress out as an excuse as we approached two grand white and gold doors. The doormen swiftly swung them open and Sylus stepped onto a literal red carpet, his stride confident while I lagged behind hesitant.

"It's not too late to back out if you want to," he said gently, glancing back at me. But I shook my head, steeling my resolve.

He smiled, offering his arm once more. Together, we strode down the carpet, our eyes drawn to the Protocores displayed in their cases. Earth may not have fully unlocked their potential yet, but the march toward technological advancement was unmistakable. As we continued down the hall a server approached us with a tablet in hand.

He smiles and offers me his arm. We walk down the carpet glancing at the Protocores in its cases. Currently, Earth has not unlocked the full potential of the use of Protocores though they are steadily increasing its technological advancement. As we walk down the hall a server approaches us holding a tablet.

"Mr. Sylus, we've been expecting you," the server announced, bowing slightly. Sylus turned to me, deftly removing his brooch and pinning it onto my dress with an elegant flourish.

"I assume you already know how to play the role of good bait," he whispered stealthily, placing an earpiece in my ear and brushing his lips against my cheek with a tenderness that sent a thrill through me. This cheeky—

"I'll be back soon. Have fun," he says, slipping his sleek black card into my hand. I hesitate before taking it cautiously and he flashed a reassuring smile before striding away with the server. As he left I felt the weight of curious stares from several onlookers but I brushed off their attention and wandered among the display cases. My gaze was drawn to an unusual Protocore that seemed to pulse with energy.

"Did anything catch your eye, Miss? There are even better ones over there," a server approached, breaking my focus. I flicked open my fan and surveyed the offerings.

"The selection here is somewhat mediocre, but..." I glanced at Sylus' card, a playful smile creeping onto my lips. "Are these all the Protocores you have? I'll take everything," I declared, waving my fan dramatically toward the rows of displays, prompting a deep chuckle through my earpiece.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" Sylus' voice came through, teasingly. I hid my smile behind my fan, reveling in the moment.

"I wouldn't want anyone thinking that Mr. Sylus can't afford a few measly Protocores, now would we?" I countered with a mischievous glint in my eye as I handed the server the black card.

"Pompous," Sylus laughed, his voice rich and warm resonating in my ear through the earpiece.

"This way while we wrap up your items, please," the server instructed, gesturing for me to follow.

"Wait, I want this one now, unwrapped," I insisted, pointing at the Protocore that caught my attention with its intriguing glow. The server unlocked the display case, carefully donned a white glove, and handed it to me. He then ushered me into a new room. Inside the banquet hall a sea of people mingled and conversed their gazes flitting toward me, some brazenly, others concealed in the shadows. As I fiddled with the Protocore in my hand, I noticed traces of other Protocurves interwoven in its structure, hinting at a recent modification.

A sudden prickle danced along the back of my neck, and I instinctively turned to find several pairs of eyes quickly averting their gaze. I opened my fan, raising it to conceal my lips as I spoke in hushed tones into the earpiece.

"Sylus, how are things on your end?" I inquired, the tension in my voice barely masked.

"Miss, the brooch you're wearing is quite exquisite. May I purchase it from you?" a voice said abruptly beside me. I turned to see an ordinary-looking man in a suit blocking my path, his subtly unsettling presence felt like a cold draft. My brows furrowed as I observed the squid-faced man, whose sly grin made my skin crawl.

He extended his hand and a faint blue electric current flickered from his cuff, enhancing his unnerving aura.

"Not interested, now if you'll excuse me." I say snapping my fan shut maintaining a stoic demeanor, then stepped closer and poked him gently in the chest with the fan. He didn't flinch. Taking a step back, I fought to keep my poker face from wavering under his unnerving scrutiny. I go to take a step past him but he takes another step towards me instead blocking my path.

"How does ten Hightowers sound?" he asked, his tone dripping with smugness as I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms defiantly. What use was a special weapon forged from high-grade Protocores? A single Hightower could level this entire hotel, yet it was far too troublesome for my taste, I favored the elegance of blades.

"Unimpressive," I retorted, and at that moment music began to fill the air.

"Ah, the banquet is about to start. Perhaps we can discuss what might impress you enough for me to purchase that brooch," he suggested, extending his hand with a rehearsed charm.

"Sorry, but the brooch is a gift from me," a familiar voice interjected and a warm hand encircled my waist, drawing me close to Sylus. I tilted my gaze upwards to meet his eyes, resting my hand on his chest with a smile.

"That's right, I would never part with a gift from my boyfriend," I replied coyly, casting a glance back at the squid-faced man, whose expression twisted in disbelief, eliciting a chorus of audible gasps from bystanders. With a flick of my wrist, I tossed the fan toward him and he fumbled to catch it.

"I'll tell you what, ten Hightowers can buy you this fan," I declared, watching as the color drained from his face. He set the fan down hastily on a nearby table and scurried away, flustered.

"Boyfriend?" Sylus whispered in my ear, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Yes, a friend... that's a boy..." I replied, glancing down with a hint of shyness.

"Oh? Is that so?" His breath danced across my ear, sending a thrill down my spine.

"Anything interesting?" I asked, deftly steering the conversation away from my embarrassment.

"The location of the Aether Core," he said, a grin spreading across his face, and I felt a rush of excitement.

"You know where it is?" I exclaimed, my pulse quickening. He took a small step back, the playfulness in his demeanor growing.

"You'll find out after this dance," he said, positioning his right arm behind his back while extending his left hand towards me and bowing slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

My heart did a little flip as I placed my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm. Sylus calmly guides me across the dance floor, swaying to the song's rhythm. With each spin and step, the world around us faded. it was just us, lost in the rhythm and each other's presence. The laughter and chatter were mere whispers compared to the magic of this moment. I felt like I was gliding on air, carried by the joy that radiated from our shared dance.

Melodious music serenades the luxurious banquet hall that's illuminated by dreamy lighting. He blocks the prying shadows around us. And when I look up, all I see is his face which is quite handsome, I mean he was one of the love interests after all. He looks at me with unspoken questions in his eyes.

"Sorry, I'm not really used to these kinds of social gatherings." I say awkwardly looking away. I step on his foot but he keeps us moving as if it didn't happen.

"It's nice to see you try something new," he says, his eyes sparkling with encouragement as he spins me around, the fabric of my dress swirling gracefully around me. Just as I find my footing, he gently guides me into a smooth dip. Leaning me backwards into his arms while the world tilts slightly I catch sight of his focused expression. My heart feels like its pounding in my chest. There is small clapping before a new song begins to play.

As he lifts me back up to a standing position, a grin spreads across my face. The music continues to play softly in the background, but his gaze draws me in. He leads me away from the bustling dance floor, weaving through the sea of people until we finally reach the large glass windows that dominate one end of the venue. The shimmering city lights of the N1109 zone stretch out before us like a constellation of stars, twinkling in the velvety night. We pause for a moment, basking in the beauty of the scene with the vibrant colors reflecting off the glass. I lean against the cool surface, feeling the anticipation in the air.

"Did you actually get information on the Aether Core?" I ask, our shoulders brushing as he leans in closer.

"You can choose not to believe me," he jokes lightly. I catch a glimpse of a flashing red door reflected in the glass and instinctively use my hand on his shoulder to push him away from danger but he holds his ground.

"But they wouldn't leak such vital information. Unless..." I trail off, the implications hanging heavy in the air. "It's a trap."

"Exactly," he affirms and I turn back to meet his steady gaze.

"You're not going to throw yourself into their trap, are you?" I ask, concern lacing my voice.

"Don't scare away the fish that have already bitten the hook," he replies with an encouraging smile. We both turn our attention back to the reflections in the window, shadows of the approaching figures looming closer.

"Eight Evol bombs, fifteen high-frequency guns... They really want you dead," I sigh, the weight of our predicament settling heavily on my chest.

"You really made a lot of enemies," I state and he flashes a mischievous grin.

"This isn't the first time it's happened." He says in a teasing manner and I nod my head. Saving me from the Overlord certainly earned him more enemies than anyone else in this hotel combined. The music reaches a crescendo. The notes from the orchestra are layered on top of one another like surging tidal waves. The lights dim to the passionate beats, and the shadows surround us on all sides.

"You have something up your sleeve, right? Even if you have a death wish, I don't intend to die here with you." I state. He glides behind me, skillfully retrieving something from his blazer, and places the cool handle of a blade into my right hand.

"Don't worry, you won't die that easily," he chuckles, the sound both reassuring and mischievous. Suddenly, a blinding flash is followed by a thunderous explosion that obliterates the music and sends screams ricocheting through the air. Instantly, the once-grand hall crumbles into chaos, and amidst the surging debris, Sylus tightens his grip on my free hand. I catch a hint of a scoff escaping his lips as he unexpectedly crushes something in his palm before tossing it into the swirling wreckage.

"...You had the detonator this whole time?" I gasp, astonished.

"The vermin were taking their sweet time. I was getting impatient," he replies with a wicked smile that shines against the backdrop of destruction.

"The Metaflux is quickly increasing, and there's more than one Wanderer... Be careful!" I shout urgently, adrenaline surging through my veins as I dart past him. I can feel my senses sharpen thanks to my Aether Core and I catch a fleeting shadow out of the corner of my eye—the telltale sign of a creeping Wanderer intent on ambushing Sylus.

In a fluid motion, I pivot and lash out with my blade, the steel whistling through the air before it plunges into the creature's chest. A blood-curdling screech erupts from its mouth, a haunting sound that echoes off the walls, sending a chill racing down my spine. The Wanderer thrashed momentarily but within seconds, it dissipates into an ethereal mist, leaving behind nothing but its Protocore clattering to the floor. The small, glowing shard pulsates with a faint light but I know that more are lurking in the shadows, waiting for their moment to strike. My breath quickens as I scan the surrounding area, staying alert for any sign of the next attack, fully aware that the dangers of the Metaflux are only just beginning.

"How long do you think you'll last with such a primal weapon?" He asks with a sly smile, and I narrow my eyes at him. He tosses a sleek, metallic gun toward me, the surface glinting under the dim lights flickering.

"Don't waste your efforts. You're not a bad shot either," he says, a chuckle vibrating in his chest that feels almost mocking. I catch the gun mid-air, feeling it's cool weight in my palm but I push the thought of switching weapons aside. My blade is an extension of me and I won't abandon it so easily.

After quickly defeating the last Wanderer, I scan the room, alert and on edge. My gaze lands on a trembling figure in the corner, one of the henchmen, his wide fearful eyes revealing his false confidence. I approach him with determination, pressing my blade to his neck as a drop of blood trickles down making him wince in pain.

"You haven't won yet!" he gasps, desperation lacing his voice. "We still have a backup plan...! That thing is terrifying. When it shows up, not even Sylus—" His voice cuts off abruptly, and a sharp gasp escapes his lips as the shadows around us swirl ominously.

Before I can react, a powerful surge of black-red mist erupts from the darkness coiling around him like a sentient serpent before flinging him violently into a nearby broken stone pillar. The sickening crack of bone against stone reverberates through the air as he collapses to the ground, a lifeless heap, like a puppet whose strings have been severed. I take a step back, my heart pounding, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as I lock eyes with Sylus.

"Violence should be used strategically." Sylus says calmly, wiping the blood off his face, and the black-red mist disappears from his hands.

"I would've believed you if your hands were clean," I scoff, the sarcasm barely masking my unease. Even with the venue evacuated, strong energy fluctuations crackle above us, sending tremors through the ground beneath our feet.

"What's making that noise? Are there still some left?" I ask, my heart racing as apprehension floods my senses.

"Let's go," he replies, urgency lacing his tone as he seizes my wrist and starts walking briskly.

"Where are we going?" I shoot back, confusion clouding my thoughts as I glance around. He pulls me along with surprising strength, determination etched in his features.

"To the place that has what we want," he says cryptically, leading us toward an almost transparent elevator that seems to defy logic—still operating despite the earlier chaos. As we step inside, the doors slide shut, and with a swift jolt, the elevator lurches upward. The stunning nighttime panorama outside rapidly fades into a sea of clouds, enveloping us in a thick, surreal mist. Finally, the doors creak open, revealing the roof of the building, where the echoes of the tumult below are now distant whispers, leaving only a charged silence in their wake.

"What is this?" I ask out loud, taking a step forward stepping over the cluttered floor of construction supplies. Countless pieces of metal are strewn across the spacious rooftop that's shrouded in mist. And in the haze, barely visible, are abandoned collection vessels, transporters, and other devices. Broken steel bars poke out from the overgrown weeds. Rusty frames are propped up, outlining a bygone era.

"It looks like a laboratory for experiments..." I trail off thinking for a moment of the Heroine. Her experiments took place in a lab before Earth's Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034.

"It was one many years ago. But they abandoned it a while back." Sylus says.

"They?" I ask. Stepping over broken fragments and glass shards, Sylus' tone remains aloof.

"EVER." He says and I look at what used to be quite the research base. As the most prestigious international business group, it basically supports the whole of Linkon City, where the Heroine resided. The residents of Linkon City are naive thinking this was just a research base when many locations were affected by that catastrophe, yet only the N109 Zone turned into a wasteland.

"We're here." He says. Slow vibrations resembling heartbeats pulsate in the sky. I lookup and see the Deepspace Tunnel. Dense clouds and vortexes churn amidst the darkness. And occasionally, a stream of light flashes across the night sky. The silent tunnel is like a telescope peeking into the universe.

"It's been a while since I've seen the Deepspace Tunnel so close." I say putting my hand up blocking some of the tiny beam of light that enters my line of sight. I take a step forward when I notice ahead of me is a Flux Nexus.

"There's one up here?" I ask confused as I brush off some vines off the stony pillar.

"These fluctuations aren't produced by normal Protocores." He says standing next to me, looking at me with his eyes that have unfathomable depths.

"Think about it first. Once you take it out, there's no going back." He warns. My heart starts to race and I can feel a heat growing in my hand. Gritting my teeth, I put my hand on the Flux Nexus' intricate pattern and the heat in my hand stings. The power of resonance instantly flows through my body, and dazzling light seeps out from my palm. A shiny, floating Protocore appears. The Aether Core. The Heroine wasn't the only one with the ability to resonate as that is my actual Evol, being able to shift into a crow was just my ability resonating with the Aether Core Sylus gave me centuries ago.

The Aether core blazes with an intense, ethereal glow, illuminating the chaos around us. But the moment my fingers brush its surface, the ground starts to shake violently. Violent fluctuations lash out up above us along with a primal roar echoing from the depths of the Deepspace Tunnel. I jerk my gaze upward, horrified as a storm engulfs the sky fraying at the edges with wild energy, while a colossal shadow emerges from the vortex. It's getting closer and closer with its expansive wings blocking out all the light in the sky.

"Is this... the backup plan they talked about?" I muse aloud. Sylus chuckles darkly, the tension thick in the air.

"We finally have something presentable," he replies, and before I can process his words, a massive Protofield unfolds before us. In an instant the ferocious Wanderer, known as Arbiterwings, charges towards us at a breakneck speed.

"Damnit, I can't resonate..." I curse, feeling the glow in my hands extinguish, replaced by a paralyzing heaviness that embeds me like lead in place.

"It's not too late to back out now," Sylus advises, his voice calm yet urgent. I cock my gun and grip my blade, steeling myself. I launch myself towards the monstrosity just as its scythe-like appendages swing dangerously close. Metal clashes against what feels like stone, as I block its ferocious strike.

"Be careful! Don't let it hit you. This is only the beginning!" he warns, lightning crackling ominously from the roaring storm above, barely missing me by a hair.

"Sylus!" I yell, my heart racing, gesturing frantically to the cerulean sphere pulsating with energy behind the Wanderer. The ominous stone feathers shimmer with impending doom, a catastrophic self-detonation on the verge of unleashing devastation. If I don't act fast, the explosion will consume us whole and time is slipping through my fingers like sand.

"Hurry! Destroy the stone feathers now!" Sylus commands, his voice cutting through the Wanderer's shrieks as I fire the gun he entrusted to me. The shots reverberated through the air as I turn quickly, slashing at the few feathers that launched toward me. I dive back, but sharp pangs of pain shoot through my arms and legs—an unwelcome reminder that I can't evade every attack. Lightning streaks from above and I roll to the side. I stand up looking around to see a menacing circle of five colossal stone feathers, their jagged forms looming ominously around us with a light glow.

"Don't forget about the person next to you when you run into trouble," Sylus chides, deflecting another wave of feathered projectiles with impressive force. I swing my blade with determination to destroy the first glowing stone feather towering over me.

"Who says I ran into trouble?" I retort, instinctively pushing him aside to shield him from yet another imminent onslaught of lightening. A dark-red mist swirls into his palm gathering like an unstable orb of energy. He lounges towards me wrapping an arm protectively around. I grasp his hand locked around my waist feeling a powerful resonance surge between us, a rare connection forged in crisis. The mist swells pulsating with energy and with unison we release our attacks, his blast hurled forth as I pulled the trigger on my gun. The bullet finds its mark on the Wanderer but the impact feels frustratingly minimal.

"It's regenerating thanks to the stone feathers embedded in the ground," I observe, noticing how the glow of each feather intensifies with every strike the Wanderer endures, feeding its uncanny resilience.

"I'll distract the Wanderer, you do what you have to," Sylus instructs decisively. Seizing the moment, I sprint toward the nearest pillar firing a few rapid shots before leaping and severing it with my blade in one swift motion. As I land, a bone-chilling shriek erupts from the Wanderer with its massive form crashing to the ground. Sylus uses this opportunity raining powerful blows upon it, while I scramble to dismantle the last remaining stone feathers.

"Sylus, last one!" I yell, my voice steady as I prepare to break the final feather.

"Watch out!" he warns just as the Wanderer charges at me. Its talons skim past, leaving a deep cut in my side. I can feel the warm blood seep through my clothes, but the adrenaline dulls the pain.

"It can't escape!" Sylus yells, delivering another powerful punch to the creature. I fire off a few more shots and to my relief I see the Wanderer weakening faster than before thanks to the destroyed stone feather pillars.

Suddenly, the Wanderer vanishes, only to reappear high above us. Arbiterwings spreads its wings, glowing with a bluish-white light that illuminates the battlefield. It screeches, a haunting sound filled with rage and determination echoing through the air as if to declare that this battle is far from over...

I breathe heavily as pain finally crashes over me and I drop to my knees. This feels like an eerie nightmare but familiar like reliving a distant memory. The ground around me glows, reminiscent of volcanic rock with molten light seeping through cracks that seem to pulse in time with my heartbeat.

"There's... so much blood," a voice whispers, but it isn't my own. My voice feels like it's stuck in my throat.

"You must press on." Sylus says and a claw-like hand grabs my shaking hand. I look up to see a form of Sylus I had only remembered seeing once before. His breaths are shallow as my eyes see the sword lodged in his chest and his other hand holding the Heroines. The Heroine had been the one to stab him.

"Because if you don't... there's no going back," he struggles to say. I search his face through the tears blurring my vision, unsure if his words are meant for me or the Heroine. The weight of his sacrifice hangs heavy in the air and my heart feels like it's shattering all over again.

My vision blurs. Amidst blood and fire, the Deepspace Tunnel appears. It shakes violently in the sky.

"Mephisto, you must press on." his voice strains to say fading into the distance and a flash of red and white streaks cloud my vision making me shut my eyes right. When I open them again Sylus is in front of me with my hand held out towards me. Sylus' face looks gentle, sympathetic even but there seems to be a shadow above him. I can't help but to reach out as well. An unprecedented power surges through our intertwined fingers, manifesting as a radiant red glow where our skin meets.

Instantly, I feel a tremor from deep within my heart. Something flows through my veins. The Wanderer's dissipating particles fall like a misty rain, yet a brighter light pierces through the haze. I lift my hand up shielding my eyes from the light. The Aether Core emits countless rays of golden light that seep into my heart. The warm, familiar power continues to surge. I don't know how much time has passed when the fluctuations around me slowly start to subside. The movements within my body cease. It's as if an ocean's roaring waves have silently calmed down, turning into ripples on a lake's surface.

The Aether Core levitates in the air and I grab it gently.

"So this... is the Aether Core of Earth's current timeline..." I trail off and a crack breaks its surface. I turn to face Sylus and he stares at the sky towards the Deepspace Tunnel in deep thought. He takes a moment before looking at me with a slight smile.

"It's power belongs to you now. This should help with your unstable Evol though we're not close to resolving it, be sure to go to Akso Hospital to get it checked out." He says and my eyes grow wide.

"How did you?" I ask and he looks away. It had been so long since I had

"Did you really think I wouldn't know? The fact that we haven't been able to resonate for a long time due to it taking some of your life force each time we did. That was the whole reason we looked for someone else who had the same ability." He says and thoughts swirl in my head.

"You were also having trouble shifting into your crow form after using it too much, even now I can tell you still need more time to be able to shift back." He says and I look down avoiding his gaze.

"But she needs it more..." I trail off not understanding how different this is starting to become from the original game storyline. He was supposed to give this to the Heroine, but not that I've absorbed the energy of the Aether Core, what will happen now? I decided to change things but I didn't expect to change this. He starts to walk away and begins to pull me.

"Hey where are we going?" I ask and he stops looking down at our wrists shaking it. I can see a faint glow and there appears to be reddish barely visible to the naked eye link from his left pinky connecting to my right pinky. Weren't these supposed to be cuffs, wait shouldn't this have happened with him and the Heroine? Is it happening to me because I ended up resonating with him?

"Sylus doesn't respond, and the powerful tremor that shook the Deepspace Tunnel ignites a chain reaction within the N109 Zone.

Those shadows who believed they controlled Onychinus are eliminated from fate's tapestry. Unable to see the undercurrents beneath the water's surface, I can only smell the scent of smoke becoming more poignant as it's carried by the wind. Structures crumble and collapse in the distance and I can hear a distant toiling of a bell. It's almost like an announcement, as if the world is saying.. The true leader of Onychinus has returned.

"Are you ready?" He sys picking me up bridal style walking towards the edge of the building. I wrap my arms around his neck and black-red mist surrounds us as he steps off the building. The wind rushes past my hair, a familiar feeling I know all too well. With a soft thud his feet touch the ground. We walk towards the sports car we had originally taken when I realize that the steering wheel is on the left but our hands are connecting on my right and his left.

"How is this going to work?" I ask hesitantly and he opens the driver seat sitting down. I thought for a moment he was going to let me drive but he didn't move from the seat.

"It's not too long of a drive, you'll be a little uncomfortable for a short while. Bear with it." He says offering his lap as my seat. I go to crawl past him to sit in the passenger seat instead and he rolls his eyes before closing the door. I'm left leaning awkwardly across his lap and he moves his left hand to allow me to sit easier in my seat.

Amidst the raging storm Sylus remains nonchalant as he sits next to me. Our racing vehicle leaves our enemies behind while intermittent light seeps through the window to obscure his silhouette and goals. I know cleaning house was something he wanted to do but the fact that we acquired the Aether Core, something he was supposed to have given to the Heroine, has shaken me. There was a reason why we needed him and the Heroine to resonate that went beyond human emotions. He's not telling me something and I need to find out what it is.

For a moment, his expression as he gazed at the Deepspace Tunnel resurfaces in my mind. Then, I feel a sensation in my palm. I'm still clutching the fragmented Protocore. It's as if I'm subconsciously grasping onto an answer that has yet to be revealed. The linkage between my hand and Sylus' suddenly flickers, seemingly sensing the swirling thoughts in my head.

"Here, give this to her. She wanted the Aether Core after all, although the vessel is broken it should distract her for a while." I say placing the Protocore in his front right pocket. It's only a five minute drive when I realize that we were headed to a safe house not too far from here. When we arrived I had to climb over the seat again to get out and Sylus followed after me exiting. When we entered the shack it appeared to be more of an armory than a safehouse. Sylus sits down and takes out his phone, handing it to me, I realize it's my phone that's buzzing.

"We heard you and Boss took care of the traitors and thieves," Luke says as soon as I pick up the phone, hardly pausing to confirm it's me.

"You even destroyed the Aether Core together! Good job!" Kieran exclaims, his enthusiasm spilling through the receiver. Meanwhile, Sylus methodically takes out the gun he gifted me earlier, silently disassembling and cleaning it.

"Just wanted to let you know we cleaned up at The Nest. No one will be causing us trouble anymore, so let's plan another round of drinks soon," Luke continues.

"Wait, when did you...?" I ask, realization dawning—this must have been their assignment from Sylus while I was with him. Kieran still owes me a few rounds, so that sounds good to me.

"Boss told us to handle it. He knows how much you enjoy the drinks there! He said—" Kieran starts, his excitement palpable, but is abruptly interrupted by Sylus.

"See you later." Sylus' tone leaves no room for argument.

"B-boss?! I didn't mean to—" Kieran stammers, but before he can dig himself deeper, I swiftly end the call saving him from digging himself in a deeper hole. Kieran you owe me another one.

"So... what do we do now?" I ask, glancing at our linked hands.

"Chop it off," he replies nonchalantly.

"But it seems to be some sort of energy linkage. Can we even physically attack it?" I ask looking at the link.

"I meant your finger," he says, a dry humor in his voice that makes my eyes widen.

"Or you can always take a break from your crow form for a while and work on your fighting skills. You seem to get hurt quite a lot. You might need to get trained as a Hunter as you seem a bit rusty. Either way I have more than enough time to solve this problem with you." He says looking up at me from cleaning the gun.

"My crow form feels like part of who I am now, and I've had my Hunter ID for ages. I'm sure Luke or Kieran can reactivate it, but that would be such a hassle," I groan, flinging my head back against the seat. The life of a Hunter feels so tedious—why would I want to return to that?

"Unless it's your order." I ask, peeking at him from the corner of my eye.

"Never mind. With your current level of resonance, it won't last long anyway. But be ready for a punishment once you heal," he says, making me shiver as anxiety trickles down my spine about what he might have planned for me this time.

"By the way, before I started resonating with you again, I saw a strange vision... or maybe a memory?" I ask, and he looks away, avoiding my gaze.

"It's not a big deal. From now on, you'll start seeing more things like that," he replies, still not looking at me.

"So that was real?" I question, noting the fleeting pained look in his eyes before it vanishes.

"If I say yes, will you apologize for forgetting?" he says, trying to keep the mood light. I frown and place my free hand on his cheek and he leans into my touch closing his eyes.

"Meph, this world is different from what you know, but I'm not really in the mood to share stories right now," he says, opening his eyes again. With a gesture of his hand and his Evol he brings the brooch I was wearing earlier back to him and hands it to me.

"You should keep this on, it suits you," he adds as I run my thumb over the red jewel.

"We should start planning our next move once we get back. Then we can talk about your punishment and what I'll get from our deal that brought you here," he says, standing up and pulling me with him.

"Wait! You said you didn't want anything!" I exclaim defensively and he chuckles.

"I said not to worry about it, not that there was nothing for me," he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Never make a deal so open-ended next time you might end up striking a deal with the devil," he grins.

"Thanks for the warning. I'll be more careful next time," I grumble, despite the amusement creeping into my voice.

"In any case, until we resolve the resonance issue you'll have to remain in your human form for now. Our guest will be leaving soon, she's no longer of use to us now that you've absorbed the Aether Core," he says. As we step outside, I notice the dust has finally settled in the distance, but the deal with Sylus lingers like a silent turbulent mist.

A weight settles upon me as I find myself plummeting into an abyss within the blink of an eye. The doors of memory swing wide, unleashing something long buried. The world around me transforms into a post-apocalyptic landscape, seemingly frozen in time—I recognize it as a place I glimpsed before. The scenery shifts then to a grim desolate expanse where ash dances in the wind and the ground is a dark canvas of volcanic rock with molten light spilling through its cracks.

At the confluence of the entwined timelines, I hear it. A faint yet distant heartbeat, echoing through the stillness of eternity.

****************************************************************

A/N:

I could have posted this in two parts but I was determined to catch up to the main storyline this weekend. As you can tell this was a very long chapter. Next post should be Wednesday which will be a shorter chapter. Zayne should be seen in the next chapter! Is anyone even interested in guest star appearances of Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel? I kinda want to include them a little bit more but I don't know may be a while or not. Also the explanation of Mephisto's Evol should be explained next chapter so don't come after my head please :')

Chapter heavily based off of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 07-12

Read/Played in order:

1. End of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 07: Roleplay

2. End of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 08: Undercurrents

3. End of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 09: Rising Curtains

4. End of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 10: Abandoned Memory

5. End of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 11: Battle

6. End of Long-Awaited Revelry Chapter 02 Breakthrough: Part 12: Resonance's Power

Thank you for reading!

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