#also if you know me irl you do not see this. it is invisible. I’ll literally die if you acknowledge it
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the-void-has-questions · 1 year ago
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Anyways who’s ready for the number of works under the ‘Olivier song’ Ao3 tag to go from 55 to 56?
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lukewarmsoapytoast · 4 months ago
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UGH the URGE to just spam this acc with angst writing is INSANE. Sadly, I haven’t written a full-length read in a while, I’ve had college classes in the mornings and I get busy in the afternoons. So, my point is, HERE’S SOME QUOTES I CAME UP WITH OR WANT TO USE‼️‼️
Please only reuse w/ credit!
Most of these taken from irl because it was funny 😭
LET ME KNOW YOUR OPINIONS AND WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT QUOTES AND SUCH IN!!!
Quotes
"Of course you do, and you’re going to regret those bad decisions in the morning when you’re sober."
“What morning?”
“You ignore my requests like they’re food allergies at a foreign restaurant and you wonder why I wanna hang out with girls more.”
“I wish I could love you, too.”
“It’s because I’m in love with you.”
“Because you wha—oh my god, it all makes sense now.”
"Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. But you can't laugh, okay? Promise me you’ll listen without judgment."
“I mean unless you say that you managed to kill a god, I won’t laugh.”
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“My love…You— You know there isn’t any recovering from this, the medics won’t arrive in time, I-I’ll die. I deserve to be made fun of for being that stupid, but I don’t regret my choice…saving you was my goal overall in life, my purpose, and I succeeded..I can die happy, but you need to let me go, first.”
“And how am I supposed to believe you, huh? You wanna bring that fucking whore in to confirm that you still love me? That you regret fucking her over and over, and over, repeatedly, on our own damn bed??”
“[First Name], I—”
“It’s [Last Name] now, that’s what you’ll be referring to me as. No more pet names, no more first name. Goodbye, find somebody else to manipulate.”
“Dude, you literally shot me.”
“I was beat as a child, do you hate me, do you want me dead, I know you do, I understand—”
“I have a penis and it isn’t mine. ☺️”
“Uhh, what?”
“You heard me.”
“Where r u rn??”
“I’m w ur mom”
“Bruh”
“The party you told me not to go to.”
“Omw.”
“If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”
“😈”
“Uh oh? Please tell me you haven’t written an essay about this already and I happened to send that around the time you finished it.”
“I think I'd have the ability to persuade people. It's nothing special but imagine how much success you could end up having and also how many people you could befriend. I like having friends. ALSO you can stop any wars with just a "Stop pretty pls 🥺👉👈" like it's the best superpower. You could save the world with it basically, screw pollution”
“Dear god, keep going. I’m interested.”
“People who wanna fly are confusing, like, go skydiving or something like that, pull a hiccup from HTTYD. And why obtain invisibility when you can just tell people you aren’t there?”
“Wait, you’ve got a point.”
“Somebody asking why we’re stalking them? Hit them with the ‘NUH UH! I’M NOT EVEN HERE, BABY! I’M A HALLUCINATION!’. That’ll win.”
“Oh my god you’re onto something.”
“Someone trying to end the world? Nope. ‘Pretty pls be a good person 🥺’ them.”
“How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Since you asked.”
“YOU THOUGHT THAT UP THAT QUICKLY???”
"What if he thinks I'm being dense?"
"Then he'll stop liking you. Problem solved."
Ideas
When they're constantly assuring as they lay dying, "I'm fine, I'll be okay, don't worry about me, l'll live." But their final words, whispered, barely audible,
"I don't want to die."
“I’ll be there for you”, “I’m sorry”, “I love you”, over and over again. “don’t hurt yourself”, “We need a break”, “I need you”, All of this, but you never mean it. Never. Not when I need you, your mistakes are a record on loop, your love is as present as my father. You don’t care if I hurt myself, especially because you hurt me. Can this break last forever? You need me to do as you say, you don’t need me there.
If HS!Gojo had a crush he’d confess like this:
(Texting)
“Let’s go on a date, do you like sex? Lol. <3”
Chr picks up a completely dry and closed jar of salsa.
“Salsaaaa…”
Something drips on their toe.
“Is…Is it wet?”
Frantically checking the jar for water droplets or cracks. Nothing.
“Excuse me???”
Confused.
“WHY???”
Concerned.
Father telling small adopted demon child to stay behind while they search for a plushie.
"Perhaps you should stay here, honey. This is no place for a child anyways. I'm sure we don't want you getting kidnapped by some kind of murderer, do we?"
"👹" Foaming at the mouth.
"Dear god, what have I done?"
Two characters arguing in a group chat over who’s hotter and it turns into an argument over who would be a better boyfriend to you. This is how you make your grand entrance.
“What did I just stumble upon at this very unfortunate hour. I wish to die.”
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hetalia-club · 1 year ago
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My love, my dear, my friend. I am an aroace I know for sure I can be a partner for you and you deserve better. And I will tell you straight up this point here you life will be better than being with a sorry excuse for a boyfriend you left. J E S U S 😅 I’m not saying you’ve been through the worst but holy shit all those little things that he did gives me a headache. If I knew you personally I would’ve taken you out of there. But in all honesty take care and show him that you WILL be better off without him, and I’ll be rooting for you too dear. Take care ♥️
Ace buddies! :)
The thing is irl you would have never known because he didn't act this way in front of people who were not me or his mom and dad. He would put on this dude bro act. And he didn't act this way at first around me until I lived with him for a few months and then I started to noticed it slowly. My mom knew how he was because I tell my mom everything and she would always say "he sucks" and I would do the "Mom don't say that :(" But she is right he does suck.
But I was a fool and gave him wife privileges too early in our relationship (NEVER DO THIS!!!!)(NEVER EVER DO THIS!!!). And in turn it turned him into a man child. It was almost like he reverted back to being a teenager. Towards the end he just played video games on his 5k PC set up all the time. Literally all the time. If he wasn't at work he was doing that. And it was always some stupid shit no one cared about. He got REALLY into that dumb ass Pinocchio game and told me all about the lore and I pretended to care but I was just thinking "What is blud yappin about..." He bought so many F-ing games. I think he bought a new game every week, would like rapid fire beat it and then just move on to a new one. I had to put my own Steam account on invisible just so he couldn't see when I was on there because he would message me to bring him another beer or some string cheese. (I want you all to know I checked and he's on there playing Starfield as I type this)
He also stole my personality which he will not be able to hold onto now that I'm gone. He was never as funny as I was. I have more originality and humor in my pinky toe than he has in his entire body. So I famously don't talk much IRL. I'm very shy and normally just sit there and mind my business unless spoken to directly. But I would like whisper one liners under my breath to him at parties and group outings. And he would take what I said to him and say it louder and get a big laugh from everyone. I did call him out for that and I said something like "Hey you could at least credit me if you're going to take every funny thing I say and pretend you said it" he got REAL annoyed at that. He was like "WELL FINE! I just won't talk to anyone ever!" Because that was what I said... Which if anything is a fault on him because now his friends are going to wonder why his humor turned so sexual all of a sudden and he stopped saying actually funny things and just started making dick jokes (THE ONLY MATERIAL HE HAS)(That and also quoting American Pie movies & Step Brothers. And he plays it off like his own shit as if no one has never seen them...)(I so bad just wanted to be like That's from Anchorman you didn't come up with the joke about San Diego being the fake word for Whale's vagina you directly quoted that from Anchorman.) But I would laugh every time...Not real laughs they were pity laughs but he either couldn't tell the difference or just didn't care so long as I was stroking his ego.
He honestly somehow transformed from this super hot, former football player, frat bot, silly guy into what I would call a neckbeard, but a closeted one because he only acted that way at home.
The worst crime...He wasn't even 6ft. I put up with all of that and he was only standing at a lackluster 5'10.
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chicknparm · 8 months ago
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There’s a degree of anxiety-induced delusion that most of us suffer from which is really important to unpack, and under broad strokes for most people it is best to assume good faith, and that everyone you’re interacting with isn’t Out To Getcha. broadly speaking a lot of peoples’ anxiety tends to bubble out into paranoia and misanthropy that is really maladaptive and needs to be actively fought and corrected in order to be able to interact with the world in a healthy way on a day to day basis.
But reinforcing that idea that, as Mogatrat the Wise once put it, “you’re a normal-ass person” does run into roadblocks sometimes when it just does not align with your material experience.
I was just thinking about my most recent session with my therapist, where (even in an attempt to give myself credit for being funny and charming!) I said “I know I’m not the type of person that people find interesting and desirable enough to approach and start a conversation.” She was like “what makes you say that?” Which was obviously an open door to get me talking about my assumptions about myself, which is a fair tactic, but all I could say was “because I’m almost 30 years old and literally nobody has ever approached me to get to know me, I have had to initiate literally every IRL non-familial relationship I’ve ever had.”
Like yeah, it isn’t healthy to assume that every time someone laughs in public they’re laughing at me. Or that someone looking in my direction is a sign of Danger, rather than just somebody’s gaze wandering as they walk down the street. But what do you do when you try to move past that, and then the only thing that’s left is just…absence? Invisibility?
How do you reconcile the notion that you’re not uniquely repulsive with the reality that you are almost always forgotten in social situation, and frequently *the only one* being forgotten in that way? How many people times can I be the only person in the theater club not invited to the party? The only person in my college suite left out of the next year’s apartment? The only woman in my department at work (including other trans women) not invited to “girls’ night out?”
Like yeah, I’ve logically come to terms with the idea that everyone I see isn’t actively disgusted by me, and I have enough evidence to know that once I’ve spent time with people they generally find me charming and interesting. But nobody wants me around more. An occasional sideshow is the best I can hope to be. People don’t miss me, don’t seek me out, don’t see me and think “I want to get to know her” (and let’s be honest, most people don’t think “her” when they see me anyway). There’s a reason that almost all of my long-lasting friendships are online, with people who don’t often have to visually look at me.
Idk I lost the plot and lost track of what my point even is. I’m just bitter that once again these women I work with are going around inviting literally everyone in the general vicinity to their burlesque show, organizing car pools and afterparty plans and whatnot. And I am literally the only person that nobody is talking to. I don’t even want to go, is the thing, but the context just makes it so obvious that I’m to be kept at an arm’s length at all times lest I get The Wrong Idea, right? Like if I see a hint of cleavage my Male Socialization will take over and I’ll become a sex criminal. At least, that’s where my mind goes, until I remember that they’re also buddy-buddy with a larger, louder trans woman who is frequently vulgar in ways that are indistinguishable from the men I knew in high school and college. So she can get an invite to the Nerd Strip Show, but I can’t even get a “Hi, how are you?”
Idk. Whatever. Hope people have fun screenshotting this and laughing at how pathetic I am. Talked myself back into self-loathing. Awesome, lol.
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I suspect quite a few people on this site don’t realize they are struggling with the effects of chronic trauma. In particular I think more people need to learn about the symptoms of C-PTSD.
Distinct from general PTSD, Complex PTSD is caused by prolonged, recurring stress and trauma, often occurring in childhood & adolescence over an extended period of time. There are many risk factors, including: abusive/negligent caregivers, dysfunctional family life, untreated mental/chronic illness, and being the target of bullying/social alienation.
I’m not a mental health professional and I’m not qualified to diagnose anyone, I just remember a million watt light bulb going off in my head when I first learned about C-PTSD. It was a huge OH MY FUCKING WORD eureka moment for me—it explained all these problems I was confused and angry at myself for having. The symptoms that really stood out to me were:
Negative self-perception: deep-seated feelings of shame, guilt, worthlessness, helplessness, and stigma. Feeling like you are different from everyone else, like something is fundamentally ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’ with you.
Emotional avoidance of topics, people, relationships, activities, places, things etc that might cause uncomfortable emotions such as shame, fear, or sadness. Can lead to self-isolation.
Learned helplessness: a pervasive sense of powerlessness, often combined with feelings of desensitization, wherein you gradually stop trying to escape or prevent your own suffering, even when opportunities exist. May manifest as self-neglect or self-sabotage. (I remember watching myself make bad choices and neglect my responsibilities, and having no idea why I was doing it, or how to stop myself. Eventually I just stopped caring, which led to more self-neglect.)
Hyper-vigilance: always feeling “on edge,” alert, unable to relax even in spaces that should feel safe. May be combined with an elevated “flight” response, or feelings of always being prepared to flee. (I used to hide important documents and possessions in a sort of emergency go bag, even when I was living alone and there was no logical reason other than it made me feel “prepared.”)
Difficulty regulating emotions: may include mood swings, persistent numbness, sadness, suicidal idealization, explosive anger (or inability to feel anger and other strong emotions), inability to control your emotions, confusion about why you react the way you do.
Sense of foreshortened future: assuming or feeling that you will die young. Recurring thoughts that "I'll be dead before the age of 30/40/18/21 etc." As a teenager I used to joke darkly that I didn't plan to live past 30—not because I planned to end my life, but because I simply couldn't imagine myself alive and happy in the long-term. I couldn't imagine a meaningful future where I wasn't suffering.
Emotional flashbacks: finding yourself suddenly re-experiencing feelings of helplessness, panic, despair, or anger etc, often without understanding what has triggered these feelings. Often these flashbacks don’t clearly relate to the memory of a single event (since C-PTSD is caused by repetitive events, which can blur together), making them harder to identify as flashbacks—especially if you’ve never heard the phrase “emotional flashback” and don’t know what to look for. For years I just filed it under “sometimes I overreact/freak out randomly for no reason, probably bc I am just a terrible human being.” (It turns out there was very much a reason, it was just hidden in the past. I have since learned to be kinder and less judgemental towards myself.)
There are other symptoms too, here are more links with good info.
I’ve been meaning to write this post for awhile, because I’ve noticed that a lot of the people I interact with online have risk factors and experiences similar to mine. These include:
growing up in a dysfunctional household
having caregivers who do not fulfill basic emotional needs (do not provide consistent positive attention, encouragement, support, acceptance, communication, a sense of safety and security)
on a very related note, experiencing neglect or abuse at the hand of caregivers or other adults. I also want to emphasize the significance of emotional abuse, since it is hard to recognize, easy to ignore, and utterly rampant in so many communities. In general, family dysfunction, abuse & neglect are quite difficult to identify when you are a child/teen and that is the only “normal” you have known.
(For example, in my family it manifested as an emotionally absent father I was vaguely frightened of, constant nagging from a hypercritical mother, and a house full of people who yelled and screamed at each other. It took me years to realize I grew up in an abusive environment, because there was no physical violence, because I participated in the fighting, and because my behavioral problems made me the family scapegoat. And I internalized that guilt: I thought I was the problem. But no—I was a child, and I deserved not to grow up in a household full of anger and fear and negativity. You deserved that too. You deserved to grow up safe and loved and treated with kindness.) 
anyway back to more risk factors:
being neurodivergent or chronically ill (especially without receiving proper treatment/support/accommodation)
being queer (especially in a conservative or undiverse community, or without the support and acceptance of family & friends)
being the target of bullying or harassment (from peers, teachers, authority figures, irl, online, etc)
being isolated or alienated from peers, from family, from your wider community.
growing up with chronic anxiety, discomfort, pain, fear, or distress caused by any of the above and more.
There are many other experiences that can cause chronic trauma, but these are some particularly common ones I see people in my own community struggling with. And I want more people to be aware of this, because we’ve been taught to ignore and second-guess the significance of our traumatic experiences. We’ve been taught to feel guilty for our own pain, because “other people aren’t struggling, so I shouldn’t either” or (contradictorily) “other people have it worse, so I shouldn’t complain.” But that’s not how it works—you are not other people, and you deserve to have it better. We all deserve better. We deserve to be happy. We deserve not to be in pain.
I used to think I couldn’t have a trauma disorder because (I argued in my head) the things that happened to me weren’t that bad. And then I spent five years in therapy learning to accept the full extent of my issues. I’ve since learned that trauma comes in many forms, and can happen quietly, invisibly, silently, chronically, and usually without the survivor being aware of the long-term repercussions of what they are surviving. That revelation comes later, after you have survived and must instead learn to live.
Finally, no single type of trauma is more real or harmful than any other. Severity is measured by the way the individual is affected, and the same situations affect different people in different ways. Because no one gets to choose how their brain reacts to trauma. No one gets to choose their hurt—otherwise there would be a hell of a lot less hurting in the world.
We can, however, choose to seek help. We can learn to recognize when something is wrong, we can learn when to reach out to professionals, and we can learn to educate ourselves on our injuries.
And gradually, we can learn to heal.
(posts like this brought to you by ko-fi supporters)
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theminecraftbee · 2 years ago
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For unanswered asks you should consider just going through and posting them with minimal editions of an ask is several weeks or months old. Then they are out of your ask box and your followers know for sure that you looked at them.
so like the thing is that I’m on mobile so I can’t see the exact number right now but there are over 2k unanswered asks in my inbox, I’m not doing that to y’all. in addition like… i promise i read all of my asks, but some of them are like, for example, just praise of something i wrote (which to be clear i am perfectly fine getting but makes me feel silly and vain to push the ‘publish’ button on so i don’t) or old ask games (the constant disclaimer of ‘once i get overwhelmed i stop answering’ remains) or prompts i don’t have writing for (same as previous) or just like, song recommendations (good but i have limited time and a tendency to go back to my favorite songs) or like, sometimes they’re even stuff i don’t agree with/don’t want to publish on my blog/aren’t really my vibe, but i didn’t get around to deleting them.
like, i swear, i do read all my asks, and it’s not an indictment against you if i don’t answer! heck, a lot of the time—for example most of yesterday—me not answering is just “i’m busy irl so it’s easier to answer stuff that doesn’t require i think about it or to not answer it at all”! but i also sorta despise the internet thing that’s like. i’m expected to answer and be up to answer at all times. it’s why if you know me on discord you’ll notice that i’m always on invisible i don’t like people knowing when i’m around because it stresses me out too much to be expected to be able to answer dms at any moment, and ask box falls into that category—it’s easier for me to say “i’m sorry but there’s a decent chance i’ll see your ask and go ‘oh that’s cool’ and then forget to answer” than to obligate myself to answer every ask i get.
so, uh, sorry about that! but i don’t think i’ll do this.
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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago
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Part Eleven. The Dream
warnings: swearing, jokes about sex dreams (not actually true though) word count: 4.8k (not including images)
behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist
A/N: NEW POV??? DREAM POV???? MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK. (note: sapnap actually lives with dream now, no longer just visiting) also i really didnt wanna read through it all for a millionth time so i hope it makes sense and i didnt make too many very bad mistakes.... also praying its as cute as i think it is lol and hope you can understand and feel dreams frustration with all his emotions ENJOY!!
***********
Dream huffed out a deep breath as he wiggled around between his cool sheets, searching for warmth that the soft sun shining through his curtains wasn't giving him. He groaned as the sun escaped through a crack and shone in his eyes, making him quickly roll to the side out of the beam, immediately finding warmth in the form of another body. He sat up slightly and rubbed his eye as he looked to his left, his eyes adjusting to the light to see a girl laying with her back to him. He smiled warmly and laid back down, scooting closer to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.
She hummed as he kissed her shoulder lightly and turned around in his arms, burying her face in his chest instead. He giggled and squirmed lightly as she peppered slow kisses to his collarbone and neck, eyes still closed and sleepy.
"Good morning," Dream whispered into her hair with a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"Morning," she replied sleepily, her voice familiar. He didn't have time to process it all before she said, "you're very warm," in the cutest mumble he had ever heard.
"You're very cold," he countered with a chuckle as she wiggled in his embrace, seeking further comfort. He was confused about how he felt warmer next to her even though her skin was cold as ice. Maybe he just felt warmer in his heart because of her presence, which spread throughout his whole body from head to toes.
"But you hate cuddling when I'm cold," she informed, snapping him out of his confusion.
"That's not true," he said as he closed his eyes, deciding he would much rather stay here in this girl's comfort than get up to make them breakfast. "I like that you use me as a heater."
He felt her giggle under his arms and place another kiss on his collarbone. "Did you sleep well? Any more nightmares?"
"Never when you're 'round."
Dream felt lips press against his and he sighed contently as he kissed back, loving how such a tender kiss could give him so many butterflies.
"I love you," she hummed against his lips before placing another quick kiss.
He still had his eyes sealed shut. "I love you too, lovebug," he promised. "So much."
"I'd love to stay here all day but you need to wake up."
He frowned playfully, pulling his eyebrows together. "Only if you get up too."
"Wake up, Dream," she repeated, her voice starting to morph into something masculine.
"What—" he opened his eyes and was faced with the girl staring at him as she pushed herself away from his embrace. He could only assume she was staring at him because he was looking at a blank slate of a person as if her features had fallen off cleanly or maybe were never given to her in the first place.
"Dream, wake up." Her voice was no longer sweet like honey, but he recognized it as someone else he knew. Despite him recognizing it as his best friend's voice, it was distorted and felt weird coming from this pretty, faceless girl in front of him.
"DREAM!" Sapnap's voice rang suddenly from a different plane and Dream shot up in bed, widening his eyes to get a grasp on the real world. His room was much brighter than it had been seconds ago and it gave him an immediate headache. "Dude, wake up," Sapnap repeated, his voice no longer distorted and scary, but coming from the doorway of Dream's room.
As Dream's eyes adjusted to his surroundings, he looked to his left and reached his hand out as if the girl from his dream was there, just invisible. When his arm fell on his sheets empty-handed, he looked back at Sapnap's confused but amused face.
Dream groaned and leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands in defeat. Why did he have a soft, romantic dream about some random girl? Sure, he's had some spicy dream's about girls he's dated and liked before but they always had faces, or at least there was no question about their identities.
Dream, his inner voice said as if reprimanding a child gently, don't pretend like that girl wasn't-
He snapped his head up quickly to shake his thoughts and was surprised to see Sapnap still standing in his doorway. "You good, man?"
"Yeah?" Dream replied, not sure whether he was trying to convince himself or his best friend. "Why are you still here?"
"You look guilty like you just committed murder or something. Do you... need help hiding a body or some shit like that?"
"I just woke up, dude," Dream argued, lamely reaching to throw a pillow at Sapnap.
He caught it easily. "No, for real, are you okay? Did you have another bad dream or something?"
"It was definitely a dream for sure..."
Sapnap paused before his face twisted in disgust. "Oh, gross! Like, a sex dream? I don't wanna know about that, dude!" Sapnap screeched, throwing the pillow back at Dream's face.
"No," he groaned. "Not like that! You're the one that said that, not me!"
"Whatever, just get up."
"Why?" Dream groaned, falling back into his pillows, hoping that if he wished hard enough, he could resume his dream and maybe find out who the girl was.
Again, dude, come on. You know who it was. You just wanna cuddle with her more. His inner voice was really annoying this morning.
"George is starting a stream soon and wants us on."
"Just the three of us?" he asked, eyes closed.
"And Bugsy."
Dream sighed and swung his legs off the side of the bed.
"Ah, that got him up," Sapnap teased, earning one last lazy pillow toss in his direction, before leaving the room.
"I already regret you moving in!" he yelled jokingly and smiled at Sapnap's loud laugh from the hallway.
Dream shook his head with a hand through his hair as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the floor, not bothering to find a shirt. His dream wasn't sexual but for some reason, it lingered in his mind. His skin burned where the girl had kissed him and he wished it was real or at least that he knew who--
A nagging thought in the back of his head interrupted his thoughts. No, he wasn't going to admit it was her unless there was solid proof. And there wasn't any so... forever in denial, he will remain.
Dream wasn't stupid. He knew what his feelings for Y/n were and he had for a while. It was hard to deny it when he messed up a perfect speedrun just because she said hi to him. His texts to his friends were all very incriminating, packed with evidence that he had a little crush on her. Okay, a huge crush. He liked her a lot. But that didn't mean he wanted to have a domestic dream about her and invade her privacy. So, no, he wasn't going to give in to the knowledge that nagged at the back of his head.
He grabbed his phone and sure enough, he was being summoned to a stream.
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"Dream?" George asked, not giving him any time to settle after joining the voice channel.
"Yeah."
George laughed. "Finally! Where have you been?"
"Asleep," he mumbled.
"Awww poor Dreamie," Sapnap teased.
"Shut up. Is it just us?" he asked as he looked at the names under the voice channel, knowing full well that it wasn't in fact everyone. He just wanted to know when Bugsy would be joining them.
"Bugsy went to grab her comforter from her bed," George explained briefly.
"...What?" Dream asked, soon answered by Bugsy unmuting.
"I'm back. Oh, hi Dream!"
The air in his lungs evaporated at her words as it always did and he was left grinning at his desktop background like a fool. "Hi."
Sapnap scoffed at Dream's soft reply, but he ignored it.
"What are we even doing today?" Dream asked.
"Skribblio!" George huffed. "Do you even read your texts, Dream?"
"No. Wait, how are we going to play with four people? It's gonna be so lame!"
"Karl's coming later," Bugsy explained. "He's with Jimmy and Chris."
"And Quackity, Sam, and Ranboo and Tubbo are coming in a few. They're just being so slow."
"Then why did you start your stream already?" Dream laughed. "Why didn't you wait?"
"Because Quackity said he was going to raid me and made me start! It's fine, we can just mess around on the SMP or something until the others are ready."
Dream groaned. "Can I just go back to sleep then?"
"No!" George yelled. "If you leave I'll never talk to you again."
"Oh boohoo. I have Bug, I don't need you."
Bugsy giggled as George scoffed. "Whatever, I'm gonna go start the stream."
Dream tapped his fingers against his desk and stared at his Minecraft launcher. "So, Bug, what's this I hear about you getting your comforter off your bed?"
"What about it?" Bugsy asked. "It's comfy."
"But you just... take it off your bed? Do you own other blankets?"
"Yeah," she laughed. "But my comforter is way fluffier and it's nicer to just... wrap myself in. I dunno."
"That's cute," he hummed, not meaning to verbalize his thoughts. His lips seemed to be getting looser every day he spent with her, more and more thoughts spilling from his locked brain to the world each day. One of these days he was going to let it slip that he liked her or something.
"Whatever. It's comfy," she said. "How are you doing Sapnap?"
Dream couldn't hear his best friend's response but he didn't need to. If he wanted to know how Sapnap was doing, he could just go to the other room and ask. Besides, his mind was too busy swarming with how sweet Bugsy's voice was and how much it compared to the girl in his dream's.
Nope, he thought quickly, shaking his head. We are not going there, especially when George is about to start his stream. Stop thinking of her that way.
"SAPNAP!" Bugsy yelled, snapped Dream back to the conversation. He had finished loading into the SMP and was just standing, but he could see Sapnap chasing after Bugsy's avatar. He smiled and threw his phone down, placing his hands on the keyboard and mouse to join them.
"I'll save you!" Dream offered heroically, hitting Sapnap.
"How are you going to save me?" Bugsy asked. "Go cry to DreamXD, pissbaby."
"Bug!" he yelled fondly, not being able to hide his smile. "What the hell?!"
Sapnap cackled loudly while Bugsy giggled, which made his heart soar.
"You've been spending waaay too much time with Karl and Quackity!"
"What, jealous?" she challenged, running around him in-game.
Yes. Absolutely, yes.
"Nah, they don't have what we have. They should be jealous."
"Oh, whatever."
"Hello!!!!" George said loudly as he unmuted and undeafened. "Hello."
"George, save me!" Sapnap cried, making the other ask what had happened in the ten minutes he was gone. "Bugsy and Dream are flirting. Help, I'm scared."
"No we aren't," Bugsy laughed. "George!! How are you?"
"Great," George laughed. "How are you? Did you get your, uh, comforter or whatever it's called?"
"Yes," she said with childish joy in her voice.
"You doing okay, Bug?" Dream asked. "You're in a weird mood today."
"I dunno. I am in a weird mood today. I'm just very happy for some reason."
Dream wanted to pretend like it was because he had recently shown her his face, but the other part of his brain ridiculed him for being a narcissist. It wasn't narcissistic, the other part argued, he just liked to think that she meant it when she said he was attractive.
"Are you guys on the SMP?" George asked, receiving a variation of confirmations in reply.
"Oh, George!" Bugsy started. "Did you ever fix your house? Are you homeless?"
"I-I'm not homeless," he argued. "My house is just.... under construction.
"I was just gonna say we could fix it while we wait for the others," she offered, warming Dream's heart. It didn't even have to be directed at him, he just loved the happiness in her voice every time she offered to help anyone with anything. She was the sweetest person he thought he ever met and if he wasn't careful, he was going to be in too deep too fast.
"Oh!" George pondered for a moment. "Yeah, sure! Since we have nothing else to do."
"Wooooow," Bugsy said softly. "You wouldn't want my company otherwise? You're literally soooo bored so I gueeesssss we can build your house," she mocked his words.
"No!" George laughed. "Not like that! I just don't like building that much."
"Bug's really good," Dream complimented quickly. "She's a good teacher."
"Where's Sapnap?" George asked after a moment.
"Uh... I don't know. I'll go check if he's okay," Dream mumbled before taking off his headphones and leaving his room. He checked Sapnap's room before looking in the kitchen. "Sapnap?"
"In here," Sapnap replied, standing up from being hunched over in the fridge, a jug of orange juice in his hands. "We really need to go to the store."
"Yeah, true," he said distractedly as Patches rubbed against his leg. He bent down and scratched under her chin, making her purr lightly.
"You okay?"
Dream stood up and looked at his friend. "Yeah, we were just making sure you're okay. You just left."
"Oh, yeah, I'm good. Just thirsty."
Dream turned on his heel with the new knowledge that everything was, in fact, okay, but Sapnap stopped him.
"Hey, um..." Sapnap paused when Dream turned back to face him. "Just, not to be a parent, but, like, remember not to flirt with Bugsy as much."
Dream raised his eyebrows so Sapnap sighed and continued.
"You know, cause of the hate she's been getting? She asked all of us to dial it back?"
"Oh, yeah. I know." Dream nodded once. "Wait, she told you too?"
Sapnap nodded. "Yeah, except she told us in a groupchat. Not privately over the phone."
Dream felt his cheeks redden a little. "Wha—what? Does she think I'm a bigger problem... or something?" he asked shyly with a hand on the back of his neck. Was he really that obvious that she felt the need to tell him separately.
"I mean, you are, for sure, a bigger flirt towards her than any of us. But I have a feeling she just used it as an excuse to call you."
"What do you mean?" Dream asked. "Stop shrugging!"
Sapnap laughed. "I'm just saying! Girl definitely likes talking to you as much as you like talking to her, so..." He grinned and turned to go back to his room.
"Sapnap! You can't just talk like you have information and then leave."
"Sure I can. Watch me."
Dream groaned as Sapnap's door closed, turning to go back to his own room. Did Sapnap know something?
Sliding his headphones back on, he noticed a few new members in the voice channel and was thankful since it gave him time to process Sapnap's words. Did she talk about him to the other boys?
"DREAM!" Quackity yelled accusatorily.
"Quackity?"
"HELLO."
"Wh—? Why did you yell that?"
"I don't know," he laughed. "I just have a lot of energy."
"Yeah, join Bug. She does too."
"BUGSY!" Quackity yelled the same way, making Bugsy laugh loudly.
"Hello, mom," Ranboo greeted, making Bugsy squeal a little.
"Ranboo, my beloved. Where is your brother?"
"He's coming. He's on the phone with Tommy last I heard."
"Hey, Bug, how come Tommy isn't one of your kids?" Dream asked, just wanting an excuse to hear her talk.
"You think that boy would let himself be controlled by a woman? The first time I talked to him he yelled at me. He is no child of mine. Only my childrens' rebellious friend who I sometimes let hang out at our house and destroy my favorite vase."
Dream's laughter was interrupted by George's big mouth. "Hey, you know what I just realized? How come Dream is the only one that calls her Bug?" George asked before pouting. "Bugsy, I want a cute nickname for you, too."
"We know her real name, George, so we already beat him in the Bugsy name category of life," Quackity laughed.
Dream hummed hesitantly. He wasn't sure if she was okay with the fans knowing that they had that precious information but Quackity had already let the cat out of the bag. "That's not true. I know it, too."
"You what?" Quackity yelled. "HOW? You weren't in the groupchat??"
"Yeah, as if that's the only way to talk to Bug? She and I talk without you guys, you know?"
"Wait, she willingly told you?" Sapnap gasped. "Bugsy! I was your friend first and you didn't even tell me your name, I found out from Karl!! I'M SO HURT!"
"Ah..." she said softly, clearly uncomfortable with how much the chat was learning. If they knew Karl accidentally told them all her name, they might come after him to try to pry it out of him, even though that obviously wouldn't work.
"Okay, okay, Sapnap," Dream said in a voice he hoped Sapnap would recognize as 'drop it, dude'. He listened.
"Sorry, Sap. I still love you more."
"Wait, now I'M hurt!" Dream yelled. He was about to tell everyone how she knew his face but he realized how possessive it would sound bragging like that, so he held his tongue.
"It's because of their weird flower thing, Sapnap," George said. "Do you guys still have those, by the way?"
"Yeah, duh," Bugsy replied instantly. "It's in my enderchest for life."
Dream's heart swelled at her words. He hoped she wasn't just playing around and meant it, because God knows he wasn't playing around when he said he loved the flower she gave him. He walked over to and enderchest and hovered over the flower. love, bug.
Wait. Why did that sound familiar?
Love, Bug.
Lovebug.
His smile dropped. Gears turned in his head as flashes of his dream showed in his head.
"Dream?"
I love you too, lovebug.
His inner voice was back, teasing him senseless. What more proof do you need before you accept it was her in the dream, cuddling you, kissing you—
"Wha—?" he asked dazed, half-listening as he tried to shut his brain up. Not now. Not when he was supposed to be not flirting with her.
"I asked if you're gonna play Skribblio or just stay on the SMP?" Geroge teased. Dream hit tab and noticed he was the only one left, everyone else had logged out and was navigating to the new game. "Tubbo and Sam are on their way."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I'm pretty tired," he admitted, knowing full well that his voice still sounded somewhere else.
"Probably still stuck in his dream from this morning," Sapnap teased, not knowing he was a thousand percent correct.
"Shut up, Sapnap," he warned, voice laced with venom.
"What do you mean?" Bugsy laughed.
"Man was deadass smiling in his sleep and then he woke up, like, so confused that he was in the real world again. I'm pretty sure I interrupted a sex dream or something..."
"What, Sapnap?" Dream asked loudly as everyone laughed. "What the hell is wrong with you? I told you it wasn't that kind of dream!"
"He was smiling? Dream..." George called teasingly.
"This is a weird place for me to join, I'm gonna be honest..." Tubbo's voice announced for the first time.
"TUBBO!!" Bugsy yelled.
"BUGSY!" he matched with a laugh.
"What was that about Dream having a sex dream?" Sam's voice asked, making Dream groan.
"Oh, come on! Sapnap's exaggerating! It was a nice dream, that's all. Would you rather I have more nightmares?" Chills ran down his spine at the thought. He had been having horrible nightmares lately, all involving the same concept and he always woke up in a panic. He'd much rather have stupid domestic dreams than those nightmares.
"Well, what were you dreaming about then, huh?" Sapnap asked. "If it wasn't a girl?"
Dream smirked. "It was about a girl, but I just didn't wanna say because it was Quackity's mom but... whatever, I guess it's okay if he knows."
"WHAT THE HELL?" Quackity yelled.
**********
After about an hour of playing Skribblio, everyone needed a break to use the bathroom and get snacks, so Dream leaned back in his chair and stretched, relaxing after hearing the satisfying click of his back and shoulders. His phone buzzed aggressively on his desk and he sighed, picking it up to check the messages flooding his home screen.
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Dream set his phone back down with a large sigh.
"You okay, Dream?" Bugsy's voice asked softly. His head snapped to the discord screen, not realizing she was back from getting her snack.
"Oh, yeah," he said as he cleared his throat. "I'm just tired today." That and my friends are super unhelpful when it comes to having feelings for someone apparently.
"Well George said he only wants to play one more game, I think, so you can go take a nap soon."
He smiled at the warm care in her voice even though she was laughing lightly. He wanted so badly to say something stupid like, it would be better if you joined me, or something but that would be breaking her new "no flirting online" request. That was probably for the best because that line was awful. Imagine if he actually had said that out loud. Cringe.
His phone buzzed on the desk again and he looked down to see Bugsy’s name instead of his idiot friends.
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"Hey, I think Patches wanted to say hi," he chuckled as his cat jumped onto his lap, making herself a useful distraction from the loud pounding in Dream's chest from his recent text interaction. The others needed to come back quickly so he didn't have to talk directly to Bugsy any longer.
Was he seriously so panicked about his dream that he didn't want to talk to Bugsy? His literal favorite person on earth? Maybe he would rather have more nightmares.
"Patches! My love!" Bugsy cooed happily, making Dream chuckle lightly as he scratched the cat's head.
"I'm back," George announced. "Sorry I took so long."
"It's still just us and Dream," Bugsy explained and George groaned. Soon, everyone else was back and they could keep playing.
"Hi, pretty girl," Dream whispered to Patches, really hoping no one heard as he continued petting her fur. The lack of mocks and laughs assured him that he got away with it.
"Any time you're ready, Dream," Sam teased as they all stared at a blank slate.
"Oh, shit, sorry," Dream apologized as he leaned forward and looked at what word the game auto-gave him for not choosing.
Lovebug
You're joking. You have to be kidding. He smiled at the irony and quickly snapped a picture to show George and Sapnap later... and maybe Bugsy.
"How do I draw this?" he asked loudly, stalling as he tried to think of what the animal looked like, the only image in his mind being the Minecraft skin of one BugsyGames.
"Just draw something!" Quackity laughed.
"What color is that? Wait, is that brown?"
"It's red, George," Karl explained as Dream used red to add the head of the animal.
"No, it's yellow," Dream joked, earning scoffs from a few people.
"I can see yellow, idiot."
Bugsy guessed the word!
"What? How?" Sam asked. Dream glanced at the chat and smiled that she had understood his interpretation of a lovebug. Ironic.
"Wait, got it?" Karl said before he guessed it right too. "Okay, bye guys. Bye."
"Shut up, Karl. What is that??" George asked.
George: mosquito Sam: firefly Sam: lightbug Sapnap guessed the word!
"HAHAHA!" Sapnap laughed loudly, making Dream turn red. He was never going to hear the end of this from him.
When the time ran out, only Bugsy, Karl, Sapnap, Ranboo, and Sam had guessed correctly.
"What the hell?" Quackity scoffed.
"Lovebug?" George laughed loudly, too loudly. "What is that? Is that a real thing?" he asked between gasps for air. Dream knew he was thinking of Dream's dream too, wondering how he managed to get such a serendipitous word.
"George and Tubbo said, 'wE DoN't HaVe ThoSe iN eNglAnd!!'," Karl mocked with a loud cackle.
"Yeah, it's like... uh... you know... what I drew. I drew it perfectly," Dream boasted.
"Honestly, it sounds like a cute name for Bugsy or something," Tubbo laughed.
"Aw, wait, that's so cute," Bugsy giggled and Dream's heart thumped loudly. Because of her comment, Dream desperately wanted to tell her he came up with it first, calling her lovebug, in his dream. No, bad idea. Bad idea. Not something to brag about.
"Oh, this is a good one. It's good, it's good," Ranboo said as he started drawing.
"What on Earth, Ranboo?" Karl asked after many moments of pure silent confusion from everyone.
"I— hold on..." He scribbled some more things above what looked like someone laying down. "It's—it's harder than I thought it would be!"
"Oh, wait? I'm cracked?" George said before his name popped up, revealing he had guessed the word right. "I'm actually cracked at the game."
Dream's brain was nowhere in the right zone to be playing this game. He was so distracted and out of it that he was pretty sure he was seeing things.
"Stop using your hacks, George," Sam joked.
Sapnap: dreams sex dream with quackitys mom
"Sapnap! That's messed up!" Quackity yelled.
Quackity: sapnap sux Dream: sex with quackitys mom
"Stop!"
"Oh, got it," Karl announced. "Bye guys."
Karl guessed the word! Toob: thunderstorm
"What is this? I'm so confused?" Tubbo whined.
"Me too, dude," Dream agreed.
The word was 'nightmare'
"OOOHHH!" Tubbo shouted. "Yeah, I see it now. The weird cloud thing confused me, I thought it was a storm."
Dream could not catch a break today.
"One more game?" George asked. A few people agreed but Dream couldn't take it.
"No, I think I'm gonna get off."
"Nooo..." Bugsy whined, unintentionally causing him more heart pain.
"One more, Dream," Quackity tried persuading. "One more."
"No, dude," Dream said firmly. "I'm really not feeling good right now. And the computer's just giving me a bigger headache."
"Oh, sorry. Go get some rest," George told him, the others agreeing.
"Feel better, Dream!" Tubbo chirped, making Dream smile. He was starting to understand why Bugsy loved the young boy so much.
"Do not die in your sleep. No one but Sapnap will be able to rescue you," Ranboo pointed out.
"Thanks, Toob. Thanks, Ranboo... I think. I'll talk to you all later," Dream promised. "Have fun." His mouse hovered over the 'leave call' button, waiting for a good time to leave, not wanting to miss any goodbyes.
"Bye, Dream," Sam and Bugsy said in unison.
"Bye, everyone." He clicked the leave call button and slid down in his chair pathetically as he ripped of his headphones, feeling the cool air rush to his on-fire ears. "What am I going to do, Patches?"
The cat meowed softly in reply and he smiled. He wandered to his bed and flopped down, his brain full of thoughts since he no longer had a distraction.
What was he going to do about his massively overwhelming crush? Or should he just leave it be? Bugsy already was overwhelmed by hate she got for the boys flirting with her, imagine how much worse it work get if she was dating one of them? Not to mention, he had no idea if she liked him back and there was no chance he wanted to ruin their friendship.
His phone buzzed from his pillow and he lifted his head, expecting George to tell him some dumb philosophical quote about how life will get better, but was both pleased and panicked to see Bugsy's name instead.
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egg-baby-official · 3 years ago
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EMPEROR BELOS?
STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING EMPEROR BELOS TITAN DAMN BLOOD COLLECTING PALISMEN EATING FRATRICIDAL OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT COVEN LEADER OF THE WHORE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF THE HUMAN REALM COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING EMPEROR BELOS
STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT EMPEROR BELOS I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP GRIMWALKER CLONES OF HIS BROTHER WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST LET HUNTER GO IS HE IMMORTAL IS HE A BASTARD MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL EFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM ONLY JUST SEEN THIS MAN’S FACE BUT I ALWAYS KNEW HE HAD THE WORLD’S SHITTIEST HAIR GET AWAY FROM ME
if i wanted to get to the human realm and the titan said emperor belos is coming too i would burn down the portal door for the sole purpose of getting him stuck here forever
if i have to deal with emperor belos getting another episode in person on screen in show not only will i turn off the screen i will cancel my subscription out of spite and have to rewatch the entire series for the experience of being able to skip all the times when he is mentioned or alive
i now know exactly why i hate him so much. he’s a murderous old bastard. he collects palismen but i am just mad because i am angy
we’ve seen his fucked up backstory to explain this and now we know he really is just some rich shithead who’s a fan of witch hunting and wanted the irl version so i’ll go ham
BETTER have had a curse make him kill a man cuz if he didn’t i’m going to make him
paypal.com/IFuckingHateEmperorBelos
episodes not even about him. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to be to maybe be the result of his coven and i lost it
where the fuck is emperor belos if he’s still alive by the end of the show i am going to so deeply wish he wasn’t
slimy old man
i’ll punch belos and his frail goopy old man twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge abomination fist and he will disintegrate until all that’s left is one final diary titled Now You Fucked Up in ancient glyphs
i’m not breathing i’m invisible at this point
i hope there’s a date given for when belos will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone
everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up if true diary entries
this is like that picture of the anon at the mcdonalds drive thru but the worker is also the anon because i agree with everything
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arcadejohn127-9 · 4 years ago
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Hello! I hope you're having a good day! I was wondering if I could request the brothers with a partner thats been away for awhile maybe visiting family or something and the brother is having a hard time with them not around, missing them, so the mc decides to come back early to surprise them. Like maybe they open their bedroom door and mc is sitting there waiting for them or mc pops out of nowhere and gives them smooches and a big hug. What would their reactions be? If you don't feel up to it then please feel free to delete this, I'd never want to bother a writer. Also! I want to say, your writing is really great!! I can't wait to see more works from you in the future!
Some fluff for everyone~ you're not a bother, I just let myself get overwhelmed and some poor timing irl just happened last time - I'll be sure to be more thoughtful about how many asks I accept to do in such a short time
Though I only made it a short surprise visit - sorry!
Lucifer:
He was ashamed to say it but he was missing you
You were having a small summer break to see your family and be back in the human world
For a man who's lived thousands of years he never suspected he'd fall this hard
He stared at the other side of his, foolishly believing you'd be there to greet him in the morning
What he didn't know that due to pact magic; you could sense his mood
An invisible tug pulling at your mind telling you to see him
When he got back home he immediately headed to his room, not wanting to deal with his brothers
"Hello (Y/N)."
He stopped, whipping around to see you on his bed
"Surprise!"
He let go of his shame, rushing over to you and fell to his knees
"I've missed you, my love."
"I know~ i could feel it in our pact, I never knew you'd miss me this much, you really are a softie."
"You're teasing will not effect me this time, are you back for good?"
Why? Because he was whipped and was internally screaming with excitement
"No but I thought I'd pop in to give you these-"
You cupped his face and smothered his face in kisses
Before he could do anything you suddenly disappeared, giving him a peace sign
He got a text not too long after saying you'll pop in next week
Mammon:
Everyone knew he missed you and I mean EVERYONE
even random demons on the street knew!
He was moping around, whining about you being gone
He constantly looks like a kicked puppy
And you could feel it with your pact, you decided it was best to visit him
You teleported in his room
He wasn't there at the moment so you kept yourself busy by playing pool
As soon as he trudged into his room you greeted him
You were surprised his neck didn't snap due to how quick it moved
"(Y/N)!!! YOU'RE BACK!"
He was Infront of you, picking you up and putting you down on his pool table
His face buried in your chest
"i knew you'd miss me, our pact was telling me to see you so I'm visiting."
"only visiting...? You won't stay?"
"Don't use your puppy eyes on me or else I won't give you your gift."
He immediately perked up at that, mouth sealed shut
You cupped his face and covered it in kisses, making sure to mostly aim for his lips
He wanted more
He tried to hold you closer but you only disappeared
Happy to see a note on his bed saying you'll come back soon
Levithan:
Nothing felt the same anymore
Gaming with people was just annoying and made him rage quit
He just rewatched old shows, saving up the news ones for when you came back
Is worried you're never coming back
You took pity on him feeling his pact flare up
You came back to the devildom wanting to surprise him, the human world feeling a bit lonely without his presence
You were hiding in his bathtub, under all the cushions
When he stormed into his room with a massive frown you immediately rised out of your hiding spot
He screamed pointing his fork at you almost dropping his food
"you're here?! Like---- actually!??!!!"
You almost tripped when you jumped out of his bed, rushing over to him
He didn't care how overwhelmed he got, letting you stroke his hair and hug him
"Only for a little bit, but your pact told me you were lonely and I wanted to see you."
He immediately got embarassed knowing he got called out
"i- I miss you."
You smiled, kissing all over his face and holding his hands
He was stunned and bright red but you suddenly teleported away
You texted him, telling him what you'll come back officially and for him to expect more surprises
Satan:
Was more aggravated without you
'excuse you, that's my emotional support human'
He hated seeing any couple as he knew you were still gone for another week and he couldn't hold your hand like others could with their partner
Your pact was always raging; you almost tripped when you felt that invisible tug
It seemed it was time to visit the Devildom to sooth your boyfriend
You were hiding behind his door
When he came into his room you just missed getting hit by it
You saw his tense he looked and immediately slinked over, wrapping your arms around him
"Asmo I swear I will-"
When he saw it was you all tension left his body
He hugged you, sighing with joy as he leaned against you
"Now I feel bad I'm only popping in."
"hm, it is a shame perhaps you could stay then."
"I love you but I left mid dinner with my parents, there's only so long you can be in the bathroom before it gets concerning."
You both laughed but you knew you had to get back
So you kissed his face as much as you could reach before dipping back with a quick "see ya!"
Asmodeus:
Poor Solomon, having to hear him complain about you not being there almost every day
He spends most of his time in his room hiding away from his adoring public
Noticing his skin keeps looking awful no matter what he does
When your pact kept tugging you you knew you had to go see him
You teleported over, landing on his bed
He just left his bathroom, an oversized shirt on him and a towel aroulnd his neck catching the water still dripping out of his hair
"AH-! nooo sweetheart why did you come back now?! My hair isn't dry!"
"I'll come back later then-"
He pulled you into a hug, hiding his face in your neck
"nooo!! I missed you so much."
You just laughed, having mercy on him and patted his hair causing it to completely dry
"I missed you too, but I'm only seeing how you are."
"you're cruel."
You kissed his head before moving his face so he looked at you, he was pouting
You kissed all over his face before giving him a big smooch on his lips
You immediately teleported back when he tried to cling to you
You left him a note on his table that you'll be back in a few days
Beezlebub:
Don't look at him like that
He's just stress eating okay??!!
He's so use to having you cure other cravings he has that now he's gone back to being a complete eating Machine
Sure that never really changed but before your arrival he ate ALOT more
His pact with you was always shining and you felt the need to see him
You decided you'll pop in
You somehow ended up in mini fridge, all the trays were taken out and there wasn't a spot of food inside
You saw your boyfriend chowing down and coughed into your hand
"surprise, baby!"
He stopped eating, quickly gulping down and helped you out of the fridge
"you shouldn't be in there you could catch a cold."
"I missed you too."
You kissed both of his cheeks, giving him some actual kisses
He just let you shower him in kisses as he held your hips
"I missed you aswell, are you staying?"
"not for long but I'm coming back next week, save me some of that Ice cream."
He looked down at the ice cream and nodded with a frown
You teleported back after kissing his forehead
Belphegor:
Has been clinging to anyone he could get his hands on
Which mostly was his twin, just clinging to his arm, leg, back, wherever he could
He missed hugging you and taking naps with you
Didn't even bother to hide how much he missed you
Has considered going back on all his chatacter development just so he would come back
You had a feeling it was best to go back to the devildom for a visit when your pact kept fizzing
He was sitting in his room, crushing a squishy plush cow with a snarl
"Missed me?"
He whipped aroulnd and just stared at you in shock
"I am asleep again?"
He frowned
"this is reality, I'm just making a stop here to see you."
He hugged you, breathing in your smell, missing it already
"I missed you, when are you coming back? Naps haven't been the same."
"you gotta survive another week, but I got something for you."
He raised a brow, confused on what it could be
But surprise! It was kisses all over his face
He felt true peace feeling you kiss him again and actually fell sleep smiling
You laughed as he suddenly flopped smiling like an idioit
You made kissed his cheek one last time before heading back
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Text
Friday Night Stabby best quotes part 29 (10/09/21)
so Pearl is still filling in for Joker and yes I did watch seven out of eight POVs for this session, that’s why this quotes thing is so long :)
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Evil: I forgot how to play this game. Endless: Go to electrical and die, Evil. That’s how you play the game.
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Skizz, entering electrical: Look at all these idiots in here. Endless: Hey! That’s not very nice.
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Endless: I remember how to fix wiring. It’s not that hard. Can I do [shields] from here? I can. I did it. I figured it out. Etho: Good job. Endless: Thanks. Thanks, Etho! Etho: I never stopped believing in you. Endless: Your praise means everything to me, dad. *pause as Endless walks away* Endless: He’s not my dad.
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Impulse: *reports a body* Impulse: Okay just hold on, I can do this. Ready? Skizz’s voice in a clip: DANG IIIIT! Impulse: Did you guys hear that? Evil: Yes. Brody: What is that? Impulse: That was the last thing I heard when I caught Skizz red-handedly killing Mrs Tango. *people laugh, then pause* Skizz: I don’t like you.
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Impulse: Tango wanted to die so he could fix his overlay. Tango, dead: I DID NOT! YOU’RE A LIAR! Impulse: Someone did him a favour, I think. Tango, dead: >:(
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Evil, in a monotone: I have wires to do. Skizz, snorting: World’s most bored electrician. Evil, slightly less monotone: More wires.
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Astro: I also want you to know that I didn’t kill you, on purpose. Cuz it’s your birthday. But that was your one round of- Endless: Not my birthday. My birthday was- Astro: It was yesterday. Endless: -hours and hours ago. Astro: It’s still technically your birthday somewhere. Endless: I don’t think that’s how time works, but okay.
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*last round, Endless spent a long time with Astro but didn’t kill him despite being imposter* Astro: Alright, Endless. This time, you can kill me. Astro and Endless: *laugh* Astro: Don’t throw me off like that. I thought you were all i- Endless: *kills Astro* *pause* Astro: ...thanks, Endless. Thanks. *laughs* Well, I can’t complain; I DID ask for it.
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Skizz: Now if I die, you know it’s Etho (pronouncing it Eh-tho). Etho: Hey now.
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Impulse: Oh whoops, I was muted that whole meeting. Tango: Aha! Exactly what a killer would say.
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Astro, a ghost: Hey Evil, did you know that Impulse’s bone is not- not well right now? Evil: *snickers* Astro, a ghost: See I KNEW you could hear me, you imposter!
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Pearl: Did you have a neutral role? Impulse: Yeah, I was jester. Pearl: Ahhh. Cheeky nugget.
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Brody: Tango. Two people saw you leave the corpse of your wife. Tango: So what? Where is the corpse of my wife? Brody: Where is the corpse? Two people saw you, are you really gonna try that? Tango: I just passed you in the hallway! Nothing was there! Pearl: He’s gonna play dumb, it’s okay. Impulse: He’s still mad that she threw out his spices when they moved. Tango: IT’S THE OLD BAY, MAN! IT’S THE OLD BAY!
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Endless: It was Tango in O2 with the lead pipe- No, that’s not- Different game.
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Etho: I was with Brody and Astro but I’m… invisible, apparently. Astro: I- I said there was somebody else! I just wasn’t going to say something that I thought might make you seem suspicious. Etho: It’s been happening a lot and it’s a little weird, but okay.
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*after the meeting* Astro: I’ll notice you next time, Etho. Etho: Okay, thank you. That’s all I want.
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Skizz: It’s the purple guy! Endless: It can’t be the purple guy! Evil: It CAN be the purple guy. *votes are revealed, Endless is ejected* Endless: D’aww, you guys don’t even know how- that’s… stupid. *everyone laughs* Skizz, laughing: “Your Honour, this is very dumb”
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*everyone skipped except Endless who voted for Impulse* Endless: I got your number, Impulse. *pause* Astro: What’s his number? Four? Eight? Nine? Six? Evil: Two. Endless, at the same time: Seven.
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*Etho claims Tango killed Evil but can’t say how he knows for fear of assassination* Endless: So you saw it on admin and then came down to report it? Is that what that was? *pause* Etho: Exactly. *animation of Etho shooting himself plays* Etho: DANGIT!!!
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Etho: Where we going, Tango? What we doing? Tango: I’m going to my grave is where I think I’m going.
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Astro: Hey, Mrs T? Mrs Tango: Hi? Astro: I need you to do something really suspicious. Mrs Tango: Okay.
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*after Impulse crashed out of the game but his body is reported* Skizz: That was the most epic kill yet. It happened IRL.
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Tango: Dead, disconnected. It’s all the same thing. Pearl: For one, you get cut in half, but the other, you just go “poof”.
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*Etho is suspected of being executioner against Brody* Tango: So Etho, you’re saying there’s two imposters alive. Who do you think is the second one? *pause* Etho: That, I don’t know just yet. Tango: An executioner wouldn’t need to know that though, right? Etho: Maybe Astro. *long pause* Astro: What?! Why have you gone from Brody to me all of a sudden?!
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Brody: Astro, please don’t kill me. Astro: I would’ve killed you long ago. Brody: That’s not true. You love me. Astro: Not after you accused me of- Brody, chuckling: I haven’t accused you of anything. Astro: You accused me of breathing heavily earlier and I’m offended by it. Brody: You did, though. Astro: I can’t help that the air quality here is… dog crap. Brody: I know you well enough. I know you well enough to know when you’re, like, concentrating. Astro: Not my fault that I can’t breathe here right now.
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Etho: [Brody] killed Impulse on the first round. It made [Impulse] crash. And then [Brody] reported the body. Next round, he killed another person and did another report. He’s a- He’s a self-reporting… Brody. *everyone laughs* Evil: This is the best you’ve got, Etho?
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Evil: So here’s the question for everybody: do I tell Skizz what his minor tell is or do I keep it to myself? Skizz: You zip it! You got nothing! Tango: Keep it to yourself. That’s part of the fun; we can all learn each other’s tells. Astro: You mean like when somebody has heavy breathing when they kill somebody, Brody? Brody: Oh. Astro: I’m gonna have extra heavy breathing when I kill you. Extra… EXTRA… heavy breathing. Brody: ...I’ll remember that.
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Skizz: I finally kill the banana and instantly I hear him be all “you crashed my game!” Astro: Wait, so when I said that if Impulse rage-quit it was Skizz, I was actually correct on that? Skizz: You were right, yeah. Impulse: Wow… Endless: Skizz was like “if you’re not gonna rage quit, I’m gonna rage quit for you!” Skizz: I killed you so hard your game crashed. That’s a KILL right there.
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Brody: Yeah, I’ve been actually watching her teleport. Like “wait, did she come out of that vent??” No, she’s teleporting around. Tango: Hacks! Pearl: Speedies! Astro: The hacks are Australian ping.
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Astro: Hey, Evil. Evil: Hi. Are you gonna kill me? Astro: Do you want me to or do you want me to let you live? Evil: I’d like to live, thank you.
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Evil: *runs into electrical and finds only Pearl in there* Pearl, singing: Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose. Evil: I’m done with my tasks. Pearl: *kills Evil immediately* Astro, a ghost: *laughs* You got killed to Christmas music, Evil.
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Astro, dead: Hey Evil, how did it feel to get Christmas carolled as you were being killed? Evil, dead: She took the happiest time of the year and destroyed me with it!
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Pearl: I’m gonna go kill Etho. Shhh. Giant Skizz, in a deep voice: You do it. Rock and roll.
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Mrs Tango: My cooldown was so long and nobody was alone. Astro: It’s okay, Mrs Tango. Your speedy laggy Australian friend was killing all the people. Pearl: I literally told Skizz I was gonna kill Etho and I did exactly just that.
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Brody: I cleaned [Etho] out of a vent and I didn’t know you could even do that but here we are. Endless: That’s awesome! Brody: I mean- I knew it, I knew you were in there, Etho. Sucker.
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Endless: I know of one person who didn’t do the kill. Skizz: Who? Endless, whispering: Me. I was downloading in weapons. Skizz: You’re not gonna vouch for yourself. That’s not how justice works. Endless: Oh. My bad.
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*Astro and Endless win as imposters* Endless: What did you do, Pearl? What happened there? Did you try to sheriff Skizz? Pearl: Yeah, I wanted to take a stab. I was the sheriff. I thought it might’ve been Skizz. Astro: Ohh, YOU got the last kill, Pearl? Pearl: Yeeaaahh. That was me. Skizz: THAT’s how we died? Cuz Pearl sheriffed the wrong person? Endless: It gets better than that. Pearl asked me to move away so she didn’t accidentally sheriff me. ...
Impulse: We getting double killed in here? Brody: Hopefully.
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Brody: I’m voting for Tango; he’s having too much fun. Evil: Tango’s not allowed to have fun, we know that. Tango: Shut that down, yeah.
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Pearl: *votes for Brody* Brody: Pearl. Why do you hate me? Pearl: I just have reasons. Skizz, to Brody: Don’t tug at THAT thread. Brody: Would you like to tell people about those reasons? Pearl: Not particularly.
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Brody: Mrs Tango, do you want me to put like a poster of me in your new office? Of just me looking at you? Mrs Tango: Uhhh… Evil: Only if you’re wearing the pink hat. Brody: ONLY the pink hat. That’s it. *pause* Evil: Okay, that… that got awkward.
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Astro: So would you like to know a good story? It’s a fun story. Etho: I would love to hear a good story right now, Astro. Astro: The fun story is that Mrs Tango thought that the comms were out and she wouldn’t get revealed walking away from her archnemesis, The Endless’s body. Tango: Well then I’m not voting for her at all, even if she did kill him, cuz that’s good by me. Etho: Ohoo… Evil: WOW.
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Astro: Mrs Tango, you basically won the round; you killed Endless, so… *everyone laughs* Etho: That’s all we can hope for in the world, right? Tango: You kill Endless, you pretty much win, right? That doesn’t matter. *pause* Etho: Love you, Endless.
...
*Brody and Mrs Tango win as imposters after Brody framed Evil* Skizz: Evil, I’m so sorry, dude! Evil: No you’re not. Brody: I’m not sorry. I needed that in my heart. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry whatsoever.
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Impulse: Come watch me scan! Wanna watch me scan? C’mon! Watch this! It’s gonna be the best. Come watch. Astro: No, because I know what you’re gonna say and I’m not gonna stand for it. Impulse, hopping on the scanner: I’m not gonna do it, I’m not gonna do it. But that was- that’s legit. You saw that? Astro: You’re a little to the left. Impulse: I’m not gonna say it. But you’re gonna kill me anyway, so I might as well say it. Astro: You need to go to the right. Impulse: Did you watch me scan? Astro: You’re a little- You were- Impulse: Watch me nae nae. Astro, laughing: -a little far to the left.
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Astro: I was coming from lab. Somebody was nae-naeing over there. Impulse: *giggles* Astro: Won’t say who, but somebody was. Impulse: There’s only one person here who does that.
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Astro: I’m gonna come back cuz I don’t trust you. Brody: *scoffs* Okay. Astro: You murdered me last time! Brody, deadpan: I wouldn’t do that to you. That doesn’t sound like something I would do. Astro: Right in front of Evil and everything. I couldn’t get through the door. Brody, deadpan: I wouldn’t do that to you.
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Endless: Hey, I’ve gotta fix the- I’m rebooting the wifi, sorry if it goes down. For a few minutes. Or A minute. Or until I come back here and, uh, reinitialise it. Brody, walking away: Endless, do you ever just stop talking? Etho, laughing: Ouch. Endless, following Brody: Hey, Brody. Let’s hang out, SIR. Brody: *laughs* Endless: How’ve you been, Brody? How’s your evening going? Brody: I’m fine. I’m fine. Are you gonna kill me? Endless: Are you always a jackass? Brody: Usually, yes. Are you gonna kill me or what? Endless: No, I don’t- I can’t kill you. But next time. Next time.
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Endless: I’m definitely going to take a break so that I’m the last one back, and that’ll teach them to leave me here to entertain you. Pearl: Okay. Enjoy your water consumption. Endless: That’s very sweet of you. I appreciate that. You enjoy whatever consumption you’re doing as well.
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Skizz, being ejected: You can’t be mayor and imposter, can you? Tango and Endless: No. Skizz: Well, I’m all sorts of twisted. Tango: You’re all sorts of dead.
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*after Mrs Tango assassinated engineer Etho* Mrs Tango: I super appreciate you calling Etho out for being the engineer. Etho: I didn’t appreciate it.
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Astro: I can tell you one thing: Etho’s not the engineer this round. Etho: You don’t know that for sure. Astro: Oh I think I do.
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Astro: Hey Impulse. Impulse: Yeah? Astro: I just scanned. You know what else I did? Impulse: *gasps delightedly* You didn’t! Astro: I… *pause* Astro: Nah, I’m not gonna say it.
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Impulse: *reports Astro’s body* Impulse: So. Astro scanned. But he did not nae nae. Just saying. Endless: I don’t think that’s how the song goes. Impulse: So I came to give him a stern talking to. But his body was dead.
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Skizz: I’m doing my tasks. Tango: Your task is to assassinate. Skizz: That’s right, baby. And I’m coming for you next. Tango: Mhm. Bring it.
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Astro: I can vouch for Evil cuz he watched me scan, Impulse watched me nae nae, and-. Impulse: Oh no. You’re gonna die now.
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Skizz: Impulse sampled the Skizz! *pause* Impulse: Ew.
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Brody: I’m not sorry I voted for you, Endless. Endless: Well, I’m glad that Mrs Tango didn’t. Brody: It’s cuz she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. I will hurt your feelings.
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Endless: I knew I got that wrong. Dangit. Simon Says- I blew it- I screwed it on the last… Brody: ...what? Endless: I feel like this should be the last game. I just… Tango: Are you having a nervous breakdown? What’s going on? Endless: Yeah, a little bit.
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Endless: I voted for you, Brody. Cuz I hate everything about you. Brody: Thank you, buddy. I’ll vote for you also.
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Pearl: Who we voting for? Brody: Endless. Endless: Brody. Tango: Why are we voting for Endless? Or Brody? Endless: Because Brody’s a jerk.
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Pearl: This is awkward, cuz Tango was trying to get me to kill him. Tango: Do NOT pin that on me, my fair lady! Pearl: No no no, I’m not. Etho: Ooooh this is spicy :D Pearl: I’m pinning this on Skizz. Skizz just decided to walk by- Tango: Oh, okay. I’m good with that.
...
Brody: Etho, c’mere. Come here. That’s the second time you’ve ruined my fun. Etho: Were you sheriff? Brody: No. Don’t Starve- I say that and you ruin my fun and then Christmas music and you kill me. I just- Why do you hate me? Etho: I- I was just backing up my partner, y’know? Brody: Look, if you don’t wanna play Don’t Starve, you just say “hey man, I’m not into it”. That’s fine. See, you just say that. Etho: I like Don’t Starve. Brody: Evidently not with me.
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Endless: It’s Brody’s fault for sussing me on that one. Brody: It’s not my fault you’re dumb.
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Impulse: Keys or you’re sus! Brody: Keys or you’re… Impulse. Endless: Hey, I’M Impulse.
...
Astro, dead: Hey. Your wife killed me. Tango, dead: Good. Evil and Mrs Jerkface.
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reginrokkr · 2 years ago
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I second what was said to you and I'll say that it was you as a person. I saw you on the dash because we had mutuals in common sometimes but seeing how you are in the group chat we had on Discord is what made me feel drawn to you. To me you're notorious for being very passionate with every muse you pick, but it's better when I see you writing a muse that looks like a second skin to you. The love you show for the lore and the muse you write is astounding and it should get more recognition. Don't feel deterred from RP because you don't ship as often or join crack as often. You shine in other ways that I appreciate in a RP partner even if we're also shipping. Keep up with what you do!
Your words mean the world to me, truly. Often times I find myself discouraged from RP because I notice that certain things that I don’t do seem more appealing than what I can offer. Which is an awful feeling because I know that I have a few people that I can always count with no matter what including you and that I’ll never lack opportunities to write. But since this is a larger group and the like... sometimes it’s hard to deal with this feeling of being invisible to people. And I don’t really know how to deal with it. But I let it be for how long it’s there and then continue doing what I’ve been always doing. I enjoy this deeply and I’m genuinely glad that others enjoy it with me too.
I’m really grateful to you for being there all these years since almost when I joined the RP community for the very first time about... 6 years now? It’s really rewarding to see that even if there are moments of inactivity in our parts due to irl circumstances, it always feels like we just talked yesterday when we resume our OOC conversations. Same goes for RP, although recently we’ve been writing together more than ever! It’s really lovely to see you extending your wings to other fandoms too and that you give as much love as you do to the muse I’ve first met you writing. Thank you really much for being my friend, truly ♥︎
What drew you to my blog initially and what, so far, has made you stay? → Accepting || @alhaqiqah ✦
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merakiui · 3 years ago
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Oh, so ig you're the type to write down your outlines huh? I did that too whenever I try to write a long, multi-chaptered story, but it makes me feel bored instead. Like "oh so the ending is that way", and it instantly loses the excitement. Ofc I have a vague ending in mind, but I love a different ending too. Also it's hard for me to write a multi-chaptered story bc I tend to get bored easily, which is why my twst series is messy and full of plot holes lol. Ig you can say that my outline is 'reversed' as in I write the story first and then take note of the details, instead of planning everything out beforehand.
I've been reading Ernest Hemingway and lemme just say that I'm very thankful to find him. His writing is very 'factual', no excessive flowery language or feelings, so it's easier to 'digest'. I'm also very interested in his 'Iceberg Theory', which is basically where you omit some details bc you, the writer, already 'know' them beforehand. Ngl, I tend to do that irl too, so implementing it is quite easy for me. Before, I was worried that my writing was too plain and didn't have enough feelings put into it. But now, I'm starting to accept my writing more bc of him 🥰
I'm currently reading A Farewell to Arms, and although I appreciate his minimalistic style very much, I often wonder how the protagonist truly feels bc it's a historical novel and there's war everywhere. It really forces me to read more into his dialogue just to know his true feelings lol.
Sometimes I’ll write an outline for a story! It’s usually if it contains lots of twists, a big mystery, or has multiple chapters/characters. I have to keep track of all of the information so that the story itself can stay nicely packaged, which is why I’ll resort to outlining everything. But most of the time I’ll sit down and write without any outline and just a basic premise in my head. The editing process is when I really go in with the invisible scissors and snip away parts that either don’t fit, don’t make sense, or aren’t needed. And then I’ll add stuff in if I need or want to. 
When I have plot twists planned beforehand, it gives me an incentive to keep writing until I can get to that specific scene. Scenes with lots of energy are always fun to write, so I keep my motivation to work towards it! Although in some cases if I get too absorbed into a certain character, connection, or scene, I’ll tell my plans to a friend and ask for their input/suggestions. It’s always helpful to get a different perspective on my writing! :D Thankfully it never seems to bother my friends hehe!
Ooh, Ernest Hemingway!! I remember reading one of his works and it was neat to see just how different his writing style is compared to other authors’ styles. The factual tone is a nice breath of fresh air after reading works that have lots of symbolism and complicated words. But maybe I’m weak when it comes to flowery language in literature because I really like reading works that include it. The flow is just too good and I like looking up unfamiliar words! >_< 
I’m happy Hemingway’s outlook could help you accept your writing!! That’s so good! 
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lonelier-version-of-you · 3 years ago
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Pretty decent episode, all things considered. Certainly an improvement on last week - at least this week was back to focusing on characters and not just on sensationalist nonsense.
I’m going to start by discussing the return of the king, and by the king I mean Michael Spence, and yes I am going to keep making this joke for as long as possible. My biggest complaint about this episode, quite frankly, was the lack of Michael. Especially since presumably we’re not gonna see him again (though I hope for one more appearance in the final episode)?
Having said that, Michael is one of those characters who just defines Holby, so seeing him at all was a pleasure. Plus, it was nice to have an update on how he’s been doing - pretty well for himself, clearly. He’s a professor now! Good for him. Just make sure Henrik doesn’t find out. He’d try to use Michael as a rebound, lmao. (Henrik has a thing for professors. And by “a thing”, I just mean he was canonically in love with Gaskell, flirted with David Hopkins (who was also a professor) a little bit, and there’s one early episode where there’s this professor lady who implies she and Henrik got up to something mischevious at a conference in 2008 - although admittedly it could’ve been a crazy night out or something just as much as a one-night stand. But all of that just isn’t as catchy as “Henrik has a thing for professors”.)
Also, lol @ Michael basically trying to get all the Holby staff over to Shoreham Cross. Can you blame him? If I were him, and I liked all these people I’d known, but all those people worked at a hospital that is quite frankly incredibly dangerous to work at and has had multiple incidents regarding serial killers, I’d try to get them to come over and work with me too.
Also also, he looked really hot. What a silver fox indeed.
Anyway, now I’m done talking about my darling Michael Spence who deserved more screentime because I have literally wanted him back for YEARS, onto the Henruss stuff.
Guy Henry was doing his best ‘kicked puppy’ face tonight, he really was. You just wanted to reach through the screen and hug poor little Henrik. Man, I don’t want to infantilise an autistic character but tonight made it REALLY HARD. So I’ll use my “I’m autistic too” pass to get away with saying “omg Henrik my poor precious babie I want to cuddle you”. XD
Speaking of Henrik’s autism, oh my GOD that scene where he was trying to apologise to Russ. Most autistic thing I’ve seen in my LIFE. He literally walks right out there, bends down by the car and practically shouts “Just wondered if we could have a little talk!”. That scene had me laughing my fucking ass off. ABSOLUTELY something I would do. In fact, I probably HAVE done pretty much exactly that and just forgotten about it.
I would like to politely ask Russ to chill. Or politely ask Henrik to tell Russ that Billie tricked him into not being able to tell him because of patient confidentiality. Or politely ask Billie to tell Russ the same thing. Also, Russ, you’re a soap character. In soapland, pregnancies are practically invisible until the baby’s already popped out. IRL you’d be a pretty terrible dad for not noticing, but in soapland it’s no big deal. XD
Although having said that, Billie still deserves the award for Best At Hiding Pregnancies out of every soap character. Not even Fenisha Khatri or Eva on Corrie whose last name I don’t remember made it all the way into labour before the people around them found out they were pregnant.
And tonight had me all the more convinced that Billie is going to give Denver up for adoption and Amelia and Eli will adopt him. I know Amelia was saying that she’d decided against having a child after all, but I expect a last-minute U-turn from her.
Delainey Hayles absolutely acted her socks off as Billie tonight. She was just great. I loved the scenes with Billie and Max - the way Billie looks up to her is just lovely.
On a more generally Henrik front, the scenes with him confronting Madge in his office just reminded me why I am so tired of Henrik being CEO. There’s really nothing new to do with it. And it canonically makes him miserable. He’s so much happier when he’s just a doctor. However, on the bright side, seeing Henrik sit on his desk again for a bit was fun. I always like when Henrik just takes “queer people can’t sit in chairs properly” and “autistic people can’t sit in chairs properly” to a new level by abandoning chairs entirely. It’s funny.
Elsewhere, Donna seems so happy and I LOVE that for her. Seriously. I do. She deserves all the best. Maybe she’ll even find a nice boyfriend or girlfriend at Shoreham Cross.
I quite liked the scenes with Dom and Sacha. They were very sweet.
And we finally get answers as to what’s going on with Madge. Presumably her husband’s weird behaviour, then, is because he’s trying to cover up for the daughter abusing her? This is a really interesting storyline idea actually. Too bad they’ve only introduced it right in the last 5 episodes! Sigh.
Also, I adore Kylie. She may have got the wrong idea but she was really trying her best and she really wants to help. Beautiful cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure.
Now. We’ve had Michael Spence back. Can we get Malick back too, please, Holby? He’s my other most desired return - I REALLY want to see him react to Henrik having a boyfriend.
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jksangelic · 5 years ago
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heaven’s winter (m)
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RATING: M
GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst
PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)
WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot. 
also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.
SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.
WORD COUNT: 18,600
NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!
it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!
(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)
((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))
(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))
((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier​ get to work.))))
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Part One
The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.
“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.
“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.
Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”
You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.
You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”
You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”
“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”
“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”
“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.
“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”
You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.
“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.
You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”
“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.
You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.
“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.
The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.
In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.
“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”
“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”
Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.
You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”
He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”
Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.
Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.
You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.
His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”
It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.
What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.
A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.  
You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.
 Part Two
It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.
"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.
“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.
You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.
“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.
“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”
Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.
“Good luck!”
“Watch your surroundings, little one.”
“Come home and don’t wander off!”
You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.
When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.
“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.
“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”
You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”
You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”
She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”
“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”
You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.
“Taehyung…”
“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.
“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”
You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.
You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.
 Part Three
Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.
You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak. 
You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.
Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.
You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.
And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.
It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.
But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.
You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.
It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.
"Don't dilly-dally!"
"Come straight home."
"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."
Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.
So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.
When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.
The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.
Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.
You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...
But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.
Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.
All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.
Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.
You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.
The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.
These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.
“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.
So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.
The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.
More howls from them, more cries from you.
You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.  
Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.
It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.
The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.
The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.
It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.
 And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.
 Part Four
Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.
Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.
It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.
The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.
Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.
He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.
He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…
You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—
“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.
“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.
Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.
“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.
“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”
It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.
The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”
At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.
“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”
“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.
His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.
“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.
“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.
You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”
“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”
You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.
 Part Five
You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?
Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.
There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.
“Ah, human. You’re awake.”
You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.
“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”
You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”
He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”
The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.
“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”
It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”
You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.
You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”
Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."
Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"
"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.
"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."
You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...
"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"
Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."
That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.
In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.
“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.
He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.
Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”
And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”
Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.
He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”
 Part Six
 It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.
Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.
That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.
Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.
Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).
You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.
You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.
Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.
Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.
"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.
"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.
"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."
It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.
"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"
"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."
You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"
"Because I was hurt."
"How were you hurt?"
"Next question."
"What are you reading?"
"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."
"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.
Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"
You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."
His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."
"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.
"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."
And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.
"Nothing is more important than the things you want."
 Part Seven
 After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.
It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.
One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.
You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.
Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.
You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?
Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"
No reply.
You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"
Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.
As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.
You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.
Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.
A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.
And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.
"What were you doing, human?"
Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"
"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.
Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"
His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.
"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"
Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.
You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"
"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.
Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.
"Leave." So you do.
 Part Eight
 You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.
Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.
Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.
You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.
Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.
You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.
You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.
"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."
You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.
"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.
"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"
He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"
Confused, you nod.
"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."
You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."
You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.
His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."
Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."
Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.
"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"
You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"
Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.
In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.
You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.
Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.
 Part Nine
The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.
The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.
In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.
“That was a horrible shot,” he said.
The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”
“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”
You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.
“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.
“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.
“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”
“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”
“Watch this.”
Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.
“Shoot.”
And it landed perfectly.
He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.
A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.
"Do you like storms?" You asked.
"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"
"I like when there's thunder and lightning."
Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.
"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.
He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."
It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.
Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.
"Yoongi..."
"Yes?"
"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."
"That's wrong but that's me."
"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"
"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"
You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"
"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.
Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.
"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.
When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.
In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."
"Alright, time for bed."
You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.
You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.
Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.
He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.
The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.
Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”
“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”
“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.
Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”
His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.
“You must miss him then.”
“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.
You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.
“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”
You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.
“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.
“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”
“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”
“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”
“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”
“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”
And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”
“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”
He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”
Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”
“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”
“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”
Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.
“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”
Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”
So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.
“Do you love him?”
“W-What?
“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”
You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”
A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.
Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.
“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”
You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.
Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.
Part Ten
On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?
You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.
You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.
He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.
Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.
Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.
You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.
Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.
 Final Part
 You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.
The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.
“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.
“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”
If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.
“Would you like to join me?”
He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”
“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”
You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.
“Your family will be so happy to see you.”
You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.
“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.
Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.
Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”
At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”
He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”
And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.
You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one. 
But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.
You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.
“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”
Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”
Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.
It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.
“No.”
“Why don’t you ask for more.”
“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”
He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”
“No.”
“Is it him? Taehyung?”
Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.
He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”
You don’t waver, “No.”
A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.
You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.
“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.
He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.
“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.
“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”
“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”
His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”
The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”
The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.
“My love, look at me.”
His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.
Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”
“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”
He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.
“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.
He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”
He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.
“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.
Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.
“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”
“Let’s talk about it after?”
“Mmm.”
He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.
He admits, “I like when you touch me.”
“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”
“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”
So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.
“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”
He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”
You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”
That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.
“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.
The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.
“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”
“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”
“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.
“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”
“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.
“Yoongi!”
“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”
Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.
“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.
You whimper, begging for mercy.
“Look. At. Me.”
Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it. 
He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.
“How do you feel, lovely?”
You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.
“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.
Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.
“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”
“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”
His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”
Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.
Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.
“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.
“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.
He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”
Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.
“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”
“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.
“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.
“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.
“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.
“Now you’re just bragging!”
“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.
The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.
“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”
“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”
“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.
“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.
He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”
Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”
Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”
Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”
“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”
His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”
“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.
“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.
“Is this better, Y/N?”
“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”
His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.
Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”
His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.
“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”
The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.
Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”
“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”
Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.
The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.
You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.
“A lot,” you complain.
“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”
Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.
“Yoongi?”
“Yes?”
“I need to go home tomorrow.”
His heart sinks, “Oh?”
“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”
“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.
“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”
Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah. And Yoongi?”
He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”
“More than anything.”
He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.
“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.
Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.
Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.
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a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.
❋ masterlist ❋
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maskydoolovesmasseffect · 4 years ago
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Mass Effect Tag
Wellio, I’ve been tagged by @berryshiara. Passing this on to @grummel83
Gunna answer my questions now. Y’all feel free to tell me what you think of these answers. ​
I’m a fan since: 2008. I was just out of high school and still not over KoTOR. I was fresh in the army and got to talking to some other dude fresh to the army about video games. He asked me if I played Mass Effect. I said no. By the next day I just about totally forgot about him, then he suddenly appeared out of nowhere sat in front of me in the chow hall and pulled a copy of ME1 for Xbox 360 out his pocket like he was a magician doing a magic trick (ACU pockets are huge.)
Anyway turns out that guy was a romance option and I must have picked the right dialogue options. I’m still with him, too.
Favorite game of the series:
Mass Effect 2. It seemed like that’s the one where choices mattered most and you really got to know your squaddies. Also MAJOR gameplay improvements over the first game. And that game gave me the most freedom to do basically whatever I wanted and wasnt afraid to give me consequences for it.
MShep or FShep:
FShep. Nothing against MShep, but for me the real Shep is FShep. Can’t beat Jennifer Hale’s voice. 
Earthborn, Colonist, or Spacer:
Colonist. I like having the background of knowing just how dangerous the galaxy can be and how the Alliance can’t be everywhere at once so sometimes you need to manage your best on your own.
Biotics or Tech:
Both.
Paragon or Renegade:
Paragon, mostly. I tried being renegade but some of the actions are just so pointlessly dickish, or even outright unhinged in a way that would make it impossible to believe the Alliance would ever promote Shepard as an officer or even keep her in the Alliance at all, especially in the first game.
That said, there are times where a renegade action is more expedient and practical than a paragon one, like in 2 when you stab a dude in the back to prevent him from repairing an enemy gunship, so even with a paragon playthrough, my Shepard will have no issues taking that opportunity. She’s already seconds away from betraying all those guys anyway.  
Paragon in treatment of others, renegade in combat pragmatism.
Favorite Class:
I play as infiltrator and vanguard.
Infiltrator is great for using a sniping and opening loot, and then for going invisible, and if I remember right AI hacking too. That’s cool and I wish there were more genuine opportunities for stealth.
Nowadays I play as Vanguard in my playthroughs mainly just so my Shepard can be canonically biotic for story reasons. From 2 on when looting no longer needs a special skill and I get to charge around the map. I don’t really care much about using biotics (that’s what the squadies are for) but the movement is super useful (when Shepard actually does the thing instead of just standing out in the open soaking up bullets until the ability decides to actually work.)
Favorite Companion:
Garrus. I like to set him up in sniper positions. When he actually STAYS where I put him instead of running straight up to enemies to try to snipe them at point blank, he’s great.
Also his quips in 2 on are pretty entertaining.
Least Favorite Companion:
Garrus, Oh my god. Go back to the sniper position where I put you. Leave tanking to krogan; you do not have the HP for this.
Also Kaidan in ME1. He can not shoot to save his life - literally.  
My Squad Selection:
For all ME1 playthroughs after my first one, Ashley and Kaidan, just of their comments and because... well... I only have so much time with them.
Apart from that I mainly just pick my team based on who’s likely to have the most interesting commentary on whatever the mission happens to be, squad balance be damned. 
Favorite In-Game Romance:
Garrus X Shepard is my favorite love story. They are just so adorable together and always supportive even when they disagree.
But my cannon romance is Kaidan X Shepard for the drama and angst.
Favorite NPC:
In ME1 there’s this random Turian on Noveria who randomly has like a New York accent and I absolutely adore him. He plays basically no part in the story other than some minor information but he’s just so pleasant to speak to.
“If you need anything, I’ll be here.”
Favorite Antagonist:
Morinth, the Ardat-Yakshi daughter of Samara. Yes, she’s a murderous vampire who will absolutely kill you given the chance... but like, it’s a medical condition. And I really can’t help but feel for ardat-yakshi in general when their only options are to spend their whole lives on the run from justicars out to execute them, or waste their entire 1000 year lifespan imprisoned in a monetary unable to experience the world at all. Yeah, Morinth is evil, but Ardat-Yakshi don’t exactly have a good deal.
Favorite Loyalty Mission:
Grunt’s loyalty mission is the best. I get to help my baby boy, reunite with Wrex, enjoy krogan society being fleshed out, have a kickass battle against a thresher maw, and get a breeding request. It’s nice to have a quest that isn’t about family drama and genuinely gets a happy end.
Favorite Mission:
Despite Citadel DLC requiring everyone to have a deathgrip on an idiot ball, and also basically gloss over some really dark stuff, the whole clone storyline with the whole crew is an absolute ride all the way though, with lots of interesting and unique scenarios, a ton of replay-value, and funny party banter that feels like it came straight out of a Marvel movie.
Favorite DLC:
Again, Citadel DLC. Not only did it come with the story above, it also had all those interactions with past and present crewmates, including a memorial for Thane (finally!), a cool apartment to hang out in, a party, an arcade, and an awesome battle arena. It really added a TON. Also, it’s nice to see Bioware figure out that DLC needs characters - I’m remembering back in the DLC to ME 1 the party never had a single thing to say, no matter what was going on. The fun and wacky Citadel DLC is a far cry from the serious and somewhat dark space opera Mass Effect started as, but as the final DLC capping off the end of the series, it gets to do a silly victory lap (and get the taste of the ending out of our mouths.)
Control, Synthesis, Or Destroy:
No.
Favorite Weapon:
Sniper rifles, whatever I have that’s fast and has high damage output. Also that one pistol that shoots tiny energy grenades. Pew pew.
Yeah I wasn’t really big into the weapons so much. I’m here to get my story on. 
Favorite Place:
The presidium on the Citadel. It bothered me a lot when I couldn’t explore it in the second game. I know it would have been terribly impractical, but as the presidium is just a huge ring, it would have been cool to be able to explore the whole thing, going past all the little park areas, shops, monuments and so on until you loop aaaaall the way back around to where you started. Like, how cool would it be if the ring had a running track? Maybe C-sec  academy trainees would be spotted jogging together along it in formation. And can you imagine grabbing a coffee (I was going to make up a space-related name for Starbucks but it’s already STARbucks...) and taking a nice stroll along the water before finding a nice bench to alien-watch from? Other locations in the game are like great places to explore and do gameplay stuff, but the presidium seems like a nice place to just be.
Favorite Quote:
"Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer." - Javik.
This is such a fucking raw damn line. It makes me think a lot about Cerberus. When ME3 wasn’t out yet, I thought maybe the plan was Shepard would at some point choose a side, Alliance for paragons and Cerberus for renegades. It would have been so cool to have morality not merely be good vs evil, but idealism vs that ruthless calculus Garrus mentioned. How fucking raw would it be if Cerberus wasn’t just generically evil for no reason and suddenly indoctrinated but really were embodying that ruthless calculus, determined to defeat the reapers at any and all cost. Maybe Cerberus actions’ were more likely to do terrible things for the sake of ultimate victory, doing whatever it took, whereas the Alliance would be less willing to make the terrible choices and ultimately be less likely to succeed.
Now obviously, that’s not what happened, as it would have required Bioware to basically make two entirely separate games. But that line from Javik makes me think of that concept, and a universe where like Dragon Age party members can approve or disapprove of actions not merely as good or evil but along the lines of their personal values. I think Javik would sit at victory at all cost.
Also that one mission in 2 where some random NPC catches Shepard sneaking around and is all like ‘what are you doing here?’ and Shepard is like ‘What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Get out here before it blows!’ and the guy’s freaking out like WTF and she says ‘RUN!’ then laughs to herself as he flees from an imaginary bomb. Shep you troll. 
The thing I like the least about the entire franchise:
The misogyny and objectification that crept its way in, epically from the second game on. Really didn’t like those ass-shot camera angles, or female characters being slut-shamed in-universe for the clothes the designers made them wear. Yikes. 
But the biggest yikes for me in that regard is actually the reveal in 3 that the prothians guided asari development. That was fine and all, but the part that bothered me was the characters commenting “ooooh, so that’s why asari are so advanced,” as it was ever any kind of mystery before that exact moment. For one thing, asari aren’t really shown as being more advanced than anyone else, apart from having discovered the citadel first, and for second, why wouldn’t asari be advanced? All the way from ME1 it’s established that 1: Asari live for a really long time, and 2: can instant transmit information directly from brain to brain. That means they have long lifetime in which to accumulate knowledge and experience, and also can easily spread and preserve that knowledge without even the need for books. That ALONE should put them ahead. And even with all that, they only barely beat the salarians to discovering the Citadel first. But no one asks for an explanation for why salarians, who live only a few decades and can’t do mental data-transfer, are so advanced. No, only the success of the all-women race needs explaining. It was just one moment but it still bugs me. 
Also the general loss of realism after the second game. First game everyone gets armor, including full-face helmets automatically on in environments that need it. After that, people can apparently just wander the battlefield half-naked and even somehow survive in a total vacuum if they just put a plastic cup (that isn’t even connected to anything) over their mouth and nose. In the first game they at least made up some reasonable-sounding science fiction explanation for things, but after that it’s like F-it everything is just space magic now. 
Oh, and those repetitive unlocking stuff minigames. I use a mod to just skip those. 
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churchkey · 4 years ago
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2020 Writing Wrapped
I was tagged by the lovely and talented @anthrobrat and one of my resolutions is to do the stuff people tag me for (and also, Laura is just wonderful and I’m lucky that she’s my friend) so I’ll give this a twirl. 
Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8(ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work.
I don’t know if I can make it to eight but we’ll see. Here’s a fun story - I used to be in this fandom back when we just shared stuff in a super-secret private community on LJ because many of the IRL guys were still alive and we were horrified of people finding out about us. But that was like 15 years ago and a lot has changed so here I am back on my bullshit and really so grateful that this fandom is still around because my love for this series and the very beautiful actors responsible for the fictionalized versions of the IRL guys and their crazy passionate ships who live rent-free in my soul has not dimmed a bit. So THANK YOU for being here and reading my stories inspiring me with YOUR stories and headcannons and being my friends. 
So here we go. All of these are Winnix, btw. Someday I’ll learn to write for another ship. 
Total (posted) Word Count: 119,294
1. A Spell of Riot (E) This is hands-down, no question, the fic I am most proud of having finished, not just this year but in all of my fandom career. I got the idea to write it from a kiss prompt last summer, just a light little thing about Dick saying goodbye to Lew as he drops him off for alcohol treatment. I never dreamed it would turn into 62k of something into which I ended up pouring three months of love and stress and tears and fairly painstaking research. The feedback I’ve gotten from you about this has been so incredibly humbling and I truly believe I’ve become a more compassionate person from this experience. You just never know what invisible battles people are fighting. I feel lucky to have had this opportunity to tell this part of their story.
2. It Is My Heart That’s Late (E) This was the first thing I ever wrote for the LLSS prompt meme, so it was kind of the first step I took toward actually being a part of the community rather than just going about my work in silence and isolation (which, tbh, I still do... I’m just that kind of writer, but I’m trying to get better about connecting with other creators). For this one I got to flex my description muscles, which was probably the biggest challenge of this story. I wanted to make readers feel immersed in the whole sensual world of Iowa in the summertime, as well as the inner nostalgic world of lovers coming back together after five years. It was also the first time I wrote an OC and had a lot of fun channeling what I think my mom/aunts would have been like at that age (as the whole thing was based on what she’s told me about growing up in that place at that time... Dick as the hired man is based on her family’s hired man, Tommy, who lived in a little cottage on their back 40. Sorry that’s probably more than you want to know.) ANYWAY. I was really happy with the subtlety (I think) I was able to bring out in the way their love has changed over the time they’ve been apart. And I got Dick’s ass to Chicago, finally!
3. Roger Wilco (E) I like this one because I think it’s the ultimate Porn with Feelings, even though when I started I tried to just make it straight-up porn. But I’m a sucker for them being completely smitten with each other, and those feelings sort of bleeding into everything they do/say/think/feel. I also think it’s pretty hot, if I do say so myself. Describing Dick pleasuring himself is like... maybe my favorite thing to write about with him, sex-wise. 
4. Things He Cannot Lose (T) The very first story I posted when I came back to the BoB fandom was Long Ago and Far Away, but that was a collection of ficlets I’d written many years ago. This one was the first new thing I’d written in many many years and it felt so freaking good to be writing again, and being in these guys’ heads again, and trying to do justice to the pining and brooding and angsting and loving. It was also the first peek of erection-probs Lew, which you all know by now is a thing I love to work in whenever I can. Sweet, drunk, lovelorn mess that he is, bless his soul. 
5. Free Kittens (T) It’s so silly but I’m proud of this one because I feel like I can’t write fluff and, aside from some of Dick’s decidedly non-fluffy attitudes toward the barn kittens, I think I managed to make it pure, uncomplicated domestic fluff. I hope so, anyway. I also freed myself of my narrative structure of staying in one character’s POV for an entire scene, trying instead to do a little more free indirect discourse and float back and forth between them. So even though it’s silly AF, this one has poked its sharp little claws into my heart. 
And I’m awful at the tagging thing and feel like I'm just annoying people by tagging them and also that they’ve already been tagged a million times but here we go @speirtongirl and @rillalala
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