#also my anxiety makes if hard to talk about my au stuff on my own.. agh.
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hollypies · 2 years ago
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Decided to redesign Hollow's Angel form. the ponytail a bit longer and changed some of the colors around.
Again this was inspired by The Radiance for the face, Sky Cotl for the crown/wings, the Deltarune obvs, and my fav!!!! Lifeblood butterfly!!! Love those! They're so cool
Gonna draw them an Kris prolly.
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0310s · 7 months ago
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gently, by your side | jaehyun
members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader
genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one
tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(
summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.
wc: 2.7k
a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 
𓉞⋆。˚☁︎。⋆
5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy
(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!
4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy
heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((
3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy
hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to
2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy
heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy
10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw
Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy
ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?
1:00 AM (y/n)?
1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???
2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok
Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.
𓉞⋆。˚☁︎。⋆
Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.
Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 
But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 
On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”
Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”
You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”
“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”
Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?
The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 
When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.
After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”
“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.
You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”
“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”
In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."
Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   
“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 
At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”
When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.
“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”
Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 
“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.
“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I��m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 
At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 
“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 
“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”
“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.
“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.
However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”
When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.
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crushedsweets · 2 months ago
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sorry if u have been asked this before, but how would you describe kate's personality? i just rrly love ur characterization of her :3
I actually DONT think I have been asked this before ?! SO IM EXCITED TO RAMBLE. Also Tysm anon ur a sweetheart.
Kate’s one of those characters that I didn’t know much about and only got invested in cuz my anons kept asking about her in my AU and eventually I got attached to the version I created . so in my AU, she's been a proxy since she was 13, is about 27 now. living in the woods for over a decade . LOL...
If I had to pick a handful of words to describe her personality in my AU, I think…. Awkward. Anxious. Aggressive. Avoidant. Quadruple A…LOL
Awkward on account of … the operator got her sick when she was around 13, and she’s been living in the woods since. Bound to make anyone bad at socializing. She’s really blunt and straightforward when she does decide to speak(not often), because she kinda lost whatever filter she might’ve had as a kid. Other people describe her as rude, but I don’t think she MEANS to be. Even if shes not saying anything, she just doesnt know how to reply to people when they say stuff. They make a joke and shes like mm. 
I hc that Kate has really bad generalized anxiety. Not in a shy stammering way, but in a “the worst possible situation is going to happen and I don’t know how to stop it” way. Overthinks, assumes that any sort of headaches means slendy is mad and gonna hurt her(even if it’s because she just hasn’t had water all day), starts freaking out because of it. The anxiety just makes her behavior kinda difficult, linking back to the awkwardness and the aggression.
SO WITH AGGRESSION. She believes everyone is out to get her. Partially because she’s willing to kill/hurt/maim anyone if it means slendy won’t hurt her, so she’s projecting her own lack of morals onto others. She’s killed lauren (technically the chaser, but kate blames herself), she’s helped ruin tim/brians lives, and she’s violently attacked her friends before. And of course, shes had to bear a lot abuse and torment from slendy (and masky/hoody/other creatures). Only natural that shes combined defense and offense 
WHIIIIIIIIIICH ALSO EXPLAINS THE WHOLE AVOIDANT THING. She has such awful trust issues, both with others and herself. Easier to just go hide in the mines and refuse to talk to people. 
BUT IN GENERAL, like if you meet her while tobys hosting a get together at the proxy cabin, she kinda just sits there. Watches. Shes selectively mute so chances are even if you talk to her, shes not replying. Some people think shes a bitch(jeff), some people think shes just shy(nina). I’d imagine poor eye contact, biting her nails till they bleed, just walking out if she doesnt wanna be apart of something, brutal honesty. Messy, disorganized. She thinks so much, so fast, so hard that all her thoughts are so jumbled that it kinda turns into nothing. Ask her whats on her mind and she doesnt even know. She’s kinda jumpy and skittish. 
I think my main thing is trying to find a balance between expressing her anxiety and coldness. She’s not like some cool badass chick, and shes not some shy cute thing. Shes really awkward and uncomfortable to be around half the time. LOL.
Also off topic but. Since i hc her to have such bad anxiety. AND i also hc her to have chronic migraines/pain in general. She smokes a lot of weed/eats edibles to calm herself down and ease her pain. might attribute to a lot of her behavior seeming kind of dazed, but she honestly doesnt act that differently. More relaxed . . . 
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kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago
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Friendcation (m) | myg | six
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Your vacation is coming to an end but your thoughts are spiraling and filled with anxiety as a tiny mishap makes you question your future with Yoongi.
→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Status: completed! → Word Count: 11.3k → Warnings (general): angst, anxiety, talk about feelings and future, teasing friends and mention of pregnancy. → Warnings (explicit): explicit sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, protected sex, oral (female and male receiving), dirty talk, nipple/breast play, ass slapping, hair pulling. → Author’s note(1): Wow, these last weeks have been hard on me to be honest. For a moment I really struggled with dwindling engagement for the series, and it honestly made me want to quit the whole thing and not finish it… I had to realize who I write for (I concluded it’s for me) and whatever I receive is just a really nice bonus 🫰I felt like the decline in engagement meant you didn’t like the series (which is fine if you feel that way), but it hit me hard. I understand a part of it can be the recent long chapters (I’m truly sorry and I’ll be better at keeping it at 10K for a smoother reading experience in the future). I have so many stories in my head that I just want to put to paper, so I’m going to keep doing that. I think I’ll keep posting whatever new stuff I write in the future, because I think it’d just be a waste to have a full fanfiction parking in my Drive. I tried to pour my heart into the last chapters, and I’m really proud of it. To be honest, it’s mostly smut (and sexual teasing) – because well 🤷 I really hope you enjoy this chapter (and the final one). Love you 💜 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨
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These past couple of days have left you with a strange, unsettling feeling. 
It’s not just the relentless banter from your friends, teasing you about what they term as ‘sickening love and adoration’ between you and Yoongi. 
No, there’s something more, something that eludes definition but refuses to be ignored. 
As your friends continue to jest and joke about your relationship, a knot of unease tightens in your stomach. It’s not a matter of their words bothering you; rather, it’s a lingering doubt, an unspoken concern that seems to dance at the edges of your consciousness. 
Your mind is filled with tension, and you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
It took an unusually long time for the realization to sink in – the absence of your period. 
How could you have missed something so significant? 
Perhaps it was the whirlwind of fun and excitement, the joyous moments shared with Yoongi and your friends, that allowed this crucial detail to slip through the cracks of your awareness. 
As the truth settles over you like a sudden storm, a wave of introspection crashes upon your thoughts. Why had you not noticed sooner? 
A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you meticulously do the math, tracing back to that one moment you and Yoongi had sex without protection in the forest. 
The pieces fall into place, forming a picture of uncertainty that leaves you standing at the crossroads of emotions. 
Regret, fear, and maybe a hint of excitement swirl in a tempest within your mind. The weight of the realization becomes a stormy sea, tossing your emotions like relentless waves. You grapple with conflicting feelings, torn between the potential of new beginnings and the fear of the unknown. 
For years, you made a conscious choice to steer clear of hormonal contraception. 
The decision wasn’t made lightly; it was a journey of self-discovery and resilience against the societal norms that often dictate women’s reproductive choices. You recall the moments when hormonal contraception wreaked havoc on your body, the side effects casting shadows on your overall well-being. 
It was then that you decided it wasn’t the path for you. The journey to this decision was marked by personal reflection, moments of doubt, and a fierce determination to take control of your reproductive health. Condoms became your chosen method of both contraception and protection. The decision was not just a practical one but a statement of agency over your own body.
Sure, you’re a grown woman, and you should have been more cautious. 
The irony isn’t lost on you; after all, it only takes a few determined swimmers to set the wheels in motion for a baby. 
The realization brings a mix of emotions — surprise, anxiety, and a touch of disbelief. You can’t help but question your own judgment.
As the weight of the situation settles in, you find solace in the fact that it’s with Yoongi, a man you not only adore but love (even though you haven’t spoken those words to him yet). 
The history you share, the years of friendship and the open conversation about future possibilities soften the unexpected blow. He’s expressed openness to the idea of children down the line, creating a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.
As the revelation sinks in, your mind becomes a battlefield of conflicting emotions. 
The foremost among them is the relentless uncertainty that echoes through every corner of your thoughts. 
Did Yoongi genuinely mean what he said about wanting kids, or were those words spoken in the heat of the moment? The weight of the questions threatens to drown you, leaving you grappling with the unknown.
In the tumultuous sea of your mind, the uncertainty stands out as the dominant wave. You find yourself questioning the timing— is it too early in your relationship to venture into such uncharted territory? 
The prospect of an impending headache looms, a physical manifestation of the mental strain that accompanies the myriad thoughts swirling within your head. The room feels suddenly smaller as you navigate through the maze of emotions. 
Each question begets another, creating a web of doubts that threaten to entangle your sense of clarity.
Who knew a tiny stick could unleash a whirlwind of chaos in your mind? 
You can practically feel your thoughts spiraling faster than a rollercoaster, and you haven’t even taken a goddamn test yet! It’s like your brain decided to host its own circus without your permission.
The prospect of a simple test morphs into a mental acrobatics show, complete with somersaulting doubts and high-wire uncertainties. You catch yourself mid-thought, berating the overthinking brain of yours— Calm down, it might be nothing, right? 
As you camp in the serene outskirts of Gunsan, surrounded by the symphony of nature—crickets singing their nightly lullaby and the earthy aroma of the rural landscape—you find yourself at the crossroads of revelation. 
The revelation, however, is a delicate secret that you’re hesitant to share, not with your friends and certainly not with Yoongi, at least not until you’re certain. 
A few more days, and you’ll leave for another city, and hopefully you can sneak in a pregnancy test at a store without anyone noticing.
Amidst the bustling thoughts of your mind, your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the noise like a familiar melody. His warm, loving smile, revealing those endearing gums you adore, welcomes you back to the present. 
“Hey, babe, are you coming?” 
His voice, tinged with affection, carries a hint of playfulness. His eyes, like windows to his soul, flicker with concern as he notices a shift in your mood. A subtle furrow in his brow goes unnoticed, replaced by a comforting smile that stretches across his face.
“Yeah,” you nod in response to him. His silhouette is framed in the doorway of Holly, and the tantalizing aroma of barbecue chicken and pork wafts into the air, teasing your senses. 
The savory scent wraps around you, awakening your appetite.
A playful breeze carries the distant sounds of laughter and clinking utensils from the gathering outside. The chatter of friends intermingles with the sizzle of the grill, creating a symphony of anticipation. 
With a soft smile, he holds the door ajar, casting a warm invitation into the confined space. The golden hues of the setting sun paint the scene, casting long shadows that dance on the interior of the van.
“I’ll be right out,” you assure him. 
As you step into the outdoor feast, the savory fragrance intensifies, enveloping you in a culinary embrace.
As the sun begins its descent on your next-to-last day in Gunsan, the air becomes infused with the tantalizing scent of barbecue. Yoongi and Seokjin, the culinary maestros, have orchestrated a feast of flavors, transforming the open fire into a canvas for their culinary artistry.
The crackling flames dance beneath skewers laden with an assortment of barbecue delights – succulent chicken and pork, each morsel dripping with savory juices. The aroma, a symphony of spices and char, teases your senses and ignites a ravenous anticipation within. The sizzle and hiss of meat meeting open flame create a hypnotic melody, luring everyone closer to the culinary spectacle.
As you emerge from the cozy confines of Holly, the brisk evening air kisses your skin, carrying with it the mingling scents of grilled delights and the lively chatter of your friends. The crackling sounds of the open fire draw you closer, promising a reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling within your mind. 
A sense of gratitude swells within you. God, you love their cooking. It’s more than a meal; it’s a celebration, a manifestation of the bonds that tie you all together. 
You settle into the chair beside Namjoon, the sturdy wood offering a welcome support beneath you. 
A cool beer materializes in your hands, a gesture from Namjoon that elicits a small, appreciative smile. As the effervescent bubbles dance in the amber liquid, you find momentary distraction in the tactile sensation of condensation on the cold bottle.
The ambient hum of conversation surrounds you, friends exchanging anecdotes and laughter. However, their words become distant echoes, mere background noise, as your mind undertakes a journey into the realm of more pressing thoughts. Could you be pregnant?
The crackling of the nearby fire, the occasional gust of wind rustling the leaves, and the laughter of your friends create a symphony of sounds. Yet, within the symphony, your thoughts stand out like a solo, demanding attention.
As you take a sip of the cold beer, you suddenly remember that maybe you shouldn’t and put down the beer as you catch a fleeting glimpse of Yoongi, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken understanding – does he somehow know?
Namjoon’s voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, his concern palpable in the furrow of his brow and the gentleness of his inquiry. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his words a lifeboat in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. The concern in his eyes is mirrored by the gaze of your friends, a united front of worry that surrounds you.
“I’m fine,” you offer a weak smile, the words slipping from your lips as easily as a silk thread. The campfire’s glow dances in your eyes, casting flickering shadows that betray the turbulence within. 
You catch the subtle exchange of glances among your friends, a silent language they’ve perfected over the years.
Namjoon arches an eyebrow, a silent question lingering in the air. 
Hoseok’s voice breaks through the haze in your mind, and you blink, realizing you’ve been somewhere else entirely. He wears a furrowed brow, a genuine concern etched on his face.
“Did you even hear what we were talking about?” Hoseok’s question hangs in the air, a lifeline thrown to a drifting mind. He glances around at the others, a silent plea for confirmation that you’re still tethered to the conversation.
“I’m sorry,” you admit, a genuine apology tinting your words. You glance around at the concerned faces of your friends, a slight frown forming on Namjoon’s forehead. 
“No, my mind was elsewhere,” you confess, your eyes momentarily dropping to the beer bottle in your hand. A swirl of conflicting emotions dances in your gaze – the weight of unspoken worries, the fear of the unknown, and the delicate balance of a secret you’re not ready to share.
“Something going on?” Seokjin’s question hangs in the air, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. Normally, their fond and caring hearts would be a source of comfort, but at this moment, you wish for solitude. 
The weight of immense turmoil presses against your chest, and you offer a weak smile to mask the turbulence within.
Your heart flutters, caught between the comfort of their understanding and the fortress of secrets you’ve built around yourself. The crackling of the fire seems to intensify, a background chorus to the unspoken truth lingering in the night air.
“No, I’m fine,” you assert, but your attempt at a reassuring smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The weight of unspoken thoughts sits heavily on your shoulders. 
“Just tired,” you add, stretching your arms above your head in an attempt to shake off the invisible burden. The forced yawn escapes, a theatrical touch to your performance. 
As you exhale, the weariness is palpable, not just in your body but in the weary creases that temporarily mar your forehead.
You catch Yoongi’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes betray a hint of concern. It’s a silent exchange, a language only the two of you understand. 
Worried stares linger for a moment, probing, questioning. You deflect them with a half-hearted smile, a feeble attempt to reassure both yourself and your friends. Thankfully, they relent, returning to their earlier discussion with an air of nonchalance. It’s a welcome diversion, giving you a momentary respite from the mounting unease.
But as your friends immerse themselves in chatter, your attention is captivated by Yoongi. His gaze, softer and more perceptive than the others, lingers on you with an understanding that goes beyond words. In the depths of his eyes, you sense an unspoken connection, a recognition that he, too, perceives the silent storm brewing within you. 
As the aroma of grilled meats fills the air, your thoughts drift away, carried on the scent of uncertainty. The upcoming days loom ahead, casting a shadow on your once carefree demeanor. 
Each passing moment feels like a countdown, the ticking clock resonating with the pounding of your anxious heart. The idea of taking a pregnancy test, a seemingly simple act, now carries the weight of your fate.
A symphony of laughter erupts, a harmonious cacophony that almost mimics a melody. Your gaze sweeps across the group, catching each friend lost in the infectious mirth. Their joy is palpable, manifested in hearty belly laughs and eyes crinkled with delight. 
However, as your eyes dart over to Yoongi, you notice a stark contrast.
His demeanor doesn’t mirror the jovial atmosphere; instead, his expression remains stoic, a subtle tension etched on his features. 
Your gaze flits from one friend to another, their laughter echoing in the warm air. They share an inside joke, a moment of camaraderie that has eluded you. A subtle unease settles in your chest, the feeling of being adrift in a sea of amusement, disconnected.
Caught in the undertow of your own thoughts, you find yourself lost in the laughter, unable to decipher the humor that dances between them. It’s not just a missed punchline; it’s a fleeting moment of connection slipping through your fingers.
Hoseok’s eyes light up like twin stars as he bursts out, “Now, that’s a brilliant idea!” 
His voice, brimming with infectious enthusiasm, resonates through the campsite, attempting to suppress the laughter bubbling just beneath the surface. His shoulders shake slightly with restrained mirth, and a mischievous gleam dances in his eyes, hinting at the amusement he’s struggling to contain.
The air crackles with the energy of the moment, as if Hoseok’s excitement has sparked a lively current that electrifies the entire campfire. The others catch on, their own laughter simmering beneath the surface.
You turn your gaze to Hoseok, brows furrowed in both wonder and confusion. “What’s the brilliant idea?” you ask, your voice tinged with curiosity, as if you’re about to embark on an unexpected adventure. 
Hoseok grins mischievously, his laughter evolving into soft chuckles. “We were thinking of giving you and Yoongi some alone time tomorrow,” he suggests, the glint in his eyes hinting at a secret plan. 
Seokjin smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 
“So you can,” he begins, drawing out the words with a pause for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes at his theatrics, but then he raises his eyebrows suggestively. 
Suddenly, your ears and cheeks flash red as you realize the implication of his words, and the campfire bursts into laughter, leaving you caught in a delightful mix of embarrassment and amusement.
They all burst into laughter, and you catch Yoongi rolling his eyes with a mock sigh. 
You wish the ground would just swallow you up, but you manage a playful glare in his direction. “Thanks for the moral support,” you mutter under your breath, earning a teasing grin from Yoongi, who clearly enjoys the banter as much as the others enjoy the spectacle.
Yoongi nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, his ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude on full display. You’re well aware he truly doesn’t care about the teasing, but no matter how many times your friends crack jokes about your intimate life, it never gets less awkward. 
You shoot Yoongi a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. 
“Really? This again?” you quip, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. It’s a game you all play, and deep down, you know it’s all in good fun. Yet, you can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever tire of it.
“You seem like you could use it,” Namjoon adds, his voice laced with concern as he gently nudges your shoulder. 
You’ve buried your face in your hands, hoping the shield of your palms could protect you from the lingering embarrassment. The laughter of your friends echoes around you, but you can’t bring yourself to look up just yet. 
The warmth of Namjoon’s touch seeps through your hands, a comforting gesture amidst the teasing storm. As you finally gather the courage to peek through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of his reassuring smile, a silent understanding passing between friends. It’s moments like these that make you appreciate the bonds you’ve built, even if they come with their fair share of playful ribbing.
“Please don’t say stuff like that.” 
You plead, the cringe evident in your voice as you instinctively recoil. A shiver of discomfort crawls down your spine, and you find yourself desperately wishing for an escape from the awkwardness that lingers in the air. 
The weight of their words presses on you, and you subtly shift, trying to distance yourself from the subject at hand. The vulnerability of the moment tugs at your conscience, leaving you exposed in the face of their laughter.
“With that stunt you pulled at the restaurant, I think you have a lot of pent up sexual frustration.”
Hoseok chuckles, and the teasing tone in his voice causes your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, memories of that daring encounter at the restaurant flooding your mind. 
The heat rises in your face as you recall the unexpected aftermath, as you had walked out to the table with Yoongi’s cum on your face, and a wave of self-consciousness washes over you. 
The campfire suddenly feels too warm, and you find yourself desperately wishing to change the subject. Hoseok’s laughter lingers in the air, a constant reminder of that daring escapade, and you try to suppress the vivid images that threaten to resurface.
“And we would rather not be here when you let off some steam,” Seokjin adds, his laughter echoing through the air. You roll your eyes playfully, a mix of amusement and embarrassment coloring your expression.
The teasing banter continues, and you sense the warmth of embarrassment creeping up your neck. 
A fleeting glance at Yoongi reveals his nonchalant demeanor, his composure unbroken. Inspired by his cool attitude, you decide to take a page from his book. With a smirk and a playful glint in your eyes, you raise an eyebrow at your friends, challenging them to bring it on. 
“Thanks,” you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes, looking around your friends. 
“I could definitely use a good fuck and Yoongi’s thick cock just hits all the right spots,” you chuckle, adding a playful wink to your statement. The campfire falls silent and it’s almost deafening. 
“So thank you so much for thinking about my vagina and Yoongi’s dick. It’s really appreciated and we’ll look forward to tomorrow.” You say with a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
As your friends sit in stunned silence, you bask in the unexpected power of your words. 
With a confident grin, you raise your beer and offer a casual shrug. 
“What can I say? You asked for it!” 
Your tone exudes a mix of playful confidence and nonchalance. Meanwhile, Yoongi’s proud gaze intensifies, and you can almost hear him whispering, ‘Well done’ without uttering a word.
As the weight of your words settles in the air, Namjoon breaks the silence with a low whistle. “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut us up,” he chuckles, shaking his head in both disbelief and amusement. 
The group erupts into a mixture of nervous laughter and awkward glances, uncertain of how to respond to your unexpected boldness. You’ve found a bottle of ice cold water and take a sip of it, maintaining your confident demeanor, and exchange a knowing glance with Yoongi, who seems thoroughly entertained by the unfolding scene.
The remainder of the meal unfolds in a symphony of laughter, shared stories, and the clinking of utensils against plates. Conversations shift seamlessly between topics, from future plans to nostalgic memories. The camaraderie of your group takes center stage, overshadowing the earlier teasing. 
Each moment is filled with genuine connection, reminding you of the unique bond you share.
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The midday sun casts a warm glow over your lunch with friends, the flickering flames of the campfire dancing in the background. Laughter intertwines with the aroma of yesterday’s leftovers, creating an atmosphere that is both familiar and tinged with anticipation. 
As you savor each bite, you can’t help but feel a subtle tension in the air, a delicate undercurrent that stems from the impending alone time with Yoongi.
Your friends, oblivious to the internal struggle you’re facing, continue to share stories and jokes, but your mind keeps drifting back to the unspoken dilemma that lingers like a shadow. 
The prospect of finally being alone with Yoongi excites you, yet the fear of him unraveling your internal turmoil weighs on you.
The crackling fire mirrors the conflicting emotions within you, casting shadows on the faces of your friends. You steal glances at Yoongi, wondering if he senses your unease.
The sun hangs high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the campsite as your friends bid you farewell after a satisfying lunch. 
There’s a subtle understanding among them, a shared unspoken decision to give you and Yoongi the precious gift of time alone. As they discuss their plans to explore the nearby town, you can’t help but appreciate the warmth of their friendship and the unspoken support they provide.
With cheerful goodbyes, your friends set off, leaving behind a trail of laughter that gradually fades into the distance. 
Now, as the tranquility of the campsite settles around you, there’s a palpable shift in the atmosphere. The rustling leaves and distant chirping of birds create a serene backdrop, underscoring the anticipation of the solitude that awaits you and Yoongi.
Turning towards each other, you and Yoongi share a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the precious moments ahead. 
The air is charged with a mix of excitement and intimacy as you prepare for this secluded interlude, grateful for the thoughtfulness of your friends who understood the significance of this time for you and your boyfriend.
As you and Yoongi cocoon yourselves in the comforting confines of Holly, the air becomes infused with a sense of tranquility. 
The soft glow of his laptop casts a gentle illumination, creating an intimate bubble within the vehicle. The flickering light from the laptop dances across your faces, casting shadows that playfully intertwine with the laughter and stolen glances. 
As Yoongi’s lips graze the delicate expanse of your shoulders, a shiver dances down your spine, eliciting a delicate sigh of contentment. 
His nuzzles become a tender exploration, mapping the contours of familiarity that make your body a cherished landscape for him. The warmth of his touch creates a cocoon, enveloping you in a sanctuary where time seems to linger.
You revel in the softness of the moment, the gentle pressure of Yoongi’s affectionate gestures making you feel cherished and understood. The rhythmic pattern of his nuzzles mirrors the quiet cadence of your breaths, creating a silent language that speaks volumes in the tranquil cocoon you’ve woven together.
Yoongi’s fingers, like skilled maestros, trail a symphony of comfort across your shoulder, their tender dance ascending to the curve of your neck. 
As his touch transforms into a soothing massage, you feel the knots of tension unravel beneath his fingertips. The rhythmic kneading becomes a balm, dissolving the worries that had taken residence in the recesses of your mind.
In the gentle cadence of his strokes, you find a haven where each movement is a whispered assurance, a silent promise that you’re not alone in whatever may be troubling you. 
The warmth of his hands carries an unspoken invitation to share the burdens of your heart, creating a space where vulnerability is embraced. As his fingers work their magic, the stresses of the day seem to dissipate, carried away on the currents of his affectionate touch. 
The sensation is both physical and emotional, a tangible reminder that you have someone by your side who cares deeply for you.
Yoongi’s voice, soft and laced with concern, further reinforces the sanctuary of this moment. 
“What’s wrong, babe?” 
He inquires, his words a lifeline thrown into the sea of your thoughts. The genuine curiosity in his eyes invites you to open up, to let the weight of your troubles be shared and lightened by the strength of your bond.
In the cocoon of Yoongi’s touch, you find solace and a momentary escape from the complexities swirling within. His fingers, tracing soothing patterns on your shoulder, evoke sensations that transcend the physical. 
As you sink deeper into the bliss of his massage, the barriers around your heart momentarily soften, allowing vulnerability to seep through.
“I don’t want to talk about it yet.” You confess, the words slipping from your lips like a whispered secret. The timbre of your voice, tinted with a mixture of fragility and desire, hangs in the air. In this moment, you feel pliable, molded by his care and affection.
With a tenderness that mirrors the flickering warmth of a candle, Yoongi turns your gaze toward his, locking eyes with a sincerity that speaks volumes. His touch is both a reassurance and an unspoken promise, a reminder that within this cocoon of shared vulnerability, there exists a haven for your thoughts and emotions.
“Okay.” He utters, the word carrying the weight of understanding and patience. In the silent exchange of glances, there’s a recognition that time unfolds at its own pace, and the space he provides is a canvas for your unspoken words to manifest.
As he cradles your face in his hands, his touch becomes a conduit for reassurance, a silent pledge that he’ll be there when you decide to unravel the intricacies of your thoughts. 
“I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”
The depth of his gaze invites trust, assuring you that this haven isn’t bound by a ticking clock or the urgency of spoken words.
In the quiet cocoon of Holly, gratitude for Yoongi blooms within you like a delicate flower. His intuitive understanding, the way he navigates the uncharted waters of your emotions, is a testament to the depth of his love. It’s more than just appreciation; it’s a profound acknowledgment of the bond you share.
As you rest against him, the subtle rise and fall of his chest a comforting rhythm, the weight of your feelings finds solace. His ability to read the unspoken nuances, to dance with the ebb and flow of your emotions, is a symphony of understanding. 
It’s not just about giving you space; it’s about crafting a sanctuary where vulnerability is met with patience, and time is a gentle companion.
In these moments, the love you harbor for him swells, an ocean of emotions that transcends the need for words. His presence becomes a balm, soothing the edges of uncertainty, and you find yourself enveloped in a warmth that extends beyond the physical.
You revel in the simplicity of his knowing glances and the way he respects the sacredness of your thoughts. It’s the silent assurance that he’ll stand by you, unmoved by the passing seconds, until you’re ready to unfurl the chapters of your heart.
“I can help you take your mind off whatever’s troubling you?”
His lips linger on yours, leaving the taste of warmth and affection as a gentle reminder that in his embrace, solace awaits. The simplicity of his offer carries a wealth of unspoken understanding, a silent promise to be your anchor in the sea of uncertainties.
As he speaks those words, his eyes, windows to a soul that intimately knows yours, search for a sign in the language only you two share. 
There’s an invitation in the way he holds you, an unspoken pledge to share the weight of your troubles.
Perhaps, in the sanctuary of each other’s presence, you can find respite from the storm brewing within. His touch, a soothing melody, offers an escape into a realm where words are unnecessary, where the language of love becomes a salve for the wounds of the heart.
You consider his offer, the genuine concern etched on his face, and for a moment, you allow yourself to be carried away by the prospect of a temporary reprieve. 
The weight of his desire reflects in the shadowed depth of his gaze, a silent confession that transcends words. His eyes, normally a window to his soul, now betray the subtle dance of passion and want. As you lock eyes with him, you find yourself ensnared in the magnetic pull of his longing, a current that sparks anticipation.
The soft droop of his eyelids harbors a secret world, one where desire takes the lead and whispers promises only lovers understand. There’s a languid rhythm to the way his gaze caresses, each blink a heartbeat echoing the pulse of the moment.
In the subdued light, the flames of passion flicker within those dark orbs, leaving an indelible impression of the fire that smolders beneath the surface. You feel the intensity of his silent plea, a plea that beckons you to acknowledge the uncharted territory where your desires intertwine.
“I wouldn’t say no to that.”
A playful chuckle escapes your lips, a mischievous melody that dances in the air, echoing the lighthearted rhythm of your connection. 
As you lean in, your teeth graze the edge of his bottom lip, not just in a tease, but in a silent declaration of your shared desire. The playful nip is a prelude to the symphony of sensations waiting to unfold.
His responding grunt is a low, primal note, a testament to the delicious tension building between you.
As you pull away, a knowing glint in your eyes, you leave behind a promise lingering in the air—a promise of the unrestrained passion that simmers just beneath the surface, waiting to be set free. 
“Then lay down and let me make you forget your own name.”
A surge of anticipation electrifies the air as his words wrap around you, a sultry promise that sends shivers down your spine. The confidence in his voice resonates, a magnetic force pulling you deeper into the allure of the moment. You surrender to the rhythm of his suggestion, feeling the weight of the world lifting as he guides you gently to recline.
His eyes, dark pools of anticipation, reflect a hunger that transcends the constraints of time. There’s a deliberate slowness to his movements, a silent vow to savor every nuance of pleasure that unfolds between you.
As he expertly slides down your sweatpants (you did not steal those from Yoongi, you swear!) he unveils your desire-laden form, leaving you in nothing but your panties. The room seems to hum with a charged energy as his eyes meet yours, the spark of lust reflected in that magnetic gaze. 
Your longing gaze locks onto him, capturing the fiery essence of your arousal. His long, ebony locks frame his handsome face.
“You know you’re so damn beautiful, right?” 
He murmurs, his fingers orchestrating a slow, tantalizing symphony as they traverse the path from your toes, ascending with deliberate grace up the landscape of your legs. Each stroke is a promise, a prelude that sends a shiver of anticipation racing through your veins, your skin awakening with goosebumps.
The sensation is electric, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation. The journey of his touch creates a symphony of shivers that dance in harmonious tandem with your rising desire. 
Your cheeks flush with a rosy hue as his gaze lingers on your legs. Feeling a twinge of self-consciousness, you stammer, “Um, don’t pay too much attention to my legs. I haven’t shaved recently,” your words escape in a hushed admission, and you instinctively attempt to shield your face from his gaze.
His fingers delicately peel away the protective shield you’ve built with your hands, revealing your blushing cheeks and the vulnerability that lingers in your eyes. 
A soft hiss escapes his lips, and his gaze intensifies with a fiery determination. “I don’t care,” he declares, his voice a low, husky murmur that hangs in the air, “every inch of you is beautiful.”
He gently tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes with an affectionate gaze. He reassures you, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your jawline, his touch a comforting affirmation that transcends the superficial. 
There’s an intensity in his words, a raw honesty that sends shivers down your spine. 
A soft moan escapes your lips in response to his words, the praise sinking into the depths of your being. Your breath quickens, and a tingling warmth begins to pool between your thighs, a visceral reaction to the arousal ignited by his intimate acknowledgment. 
The air around you thickens with anticipation, and you can feel the subtle friction as your panties cling to your skin, a tactile reminder of the desire that courses through your veins.
His hands, like gentle phantoms, trace tantalizing patterns over the fabric covering your core. The teasing caresses send shivers down your spine, creating an electric dance of anticipation on your skin. 
As his fingers weave through the unseen pathways, you find yourself instinctively arching your back, a silent plea for more, a desire that threads through the very fibers of your being.
Each feather-light stroke becomes a whisper of promises, a seductive invitation that beckons you to surrender to the impending ecstasy. The subtle friction against your clothed core intensifies the yearning, creating a magnetic pull that draws you closer to the edge of desire.
The anticipation in the room crescendos as Yoongi, his eyes heavy with desire, firmly grips the edge of your panties. 
A subtle yet deliberate tug sends a thrill through your body, and you instinctively arch your back, offering yourself to him in a silent dance of longing. Your ass lifts in a graceful surrender, a gesture that speaks volumes without the need for words, inviting him to unveil the secrets hidden beneath the fabric.
He slowly peels your panties down your legs, each inch of exposed skin kindling the flames of desire. His unhurried touch is both a torment and a pleasure, awakening a craving within you that only he can satisfy. 
The fabric trails over your thighs, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. As your panties reach your ankles, you find yourself teetering on the edge of vulnerability and excitement, the cool air of the room caressing the newly exposed skin.
The pace is torturous, yet the sweet torment only adds to the fervor of your need for him. Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in rhythm with the silent crescendo of desire, as he takes his time, savoring every moment of the seduction.
Yoongi’s lips descend with a feather-light touch, igniting a cascade of sensations that ripple through your core. The warmth of his breath, coupled with the gentle press of his lips against your clit, creates an electrifying dance between pleasure and anticipation.
“Already so damn wet for me.”
His words, a whispered declaration against your skin, send a jolt of desire straight through you. The tenderness in his kiss contrasts with the building heat, a delicious paradox that has your body responding eagerly to his every move. Your body aches for the touch of his hands, for the intimacy that promises to follow his seductive declaration.
As he explores the delicate contours of your pussy, his hands expertly coax your legs apart, allowing for an unhindered journey into the realms of ecstasy.
The velvety caress of his tongue on your most sensitive spot sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through you. Your body, a canvas for his artistry, responds with an involuntary moan, a testament to the electric connection forged between you. 
Each languid stroke, each artful flick, becomes a brushstroke painting a masterpiece of desire.
With an artful blend of tenderness and hunger, he delves into the intimate landscape, leaving no territory uncharted. The sight of him, a devoted architect of pleasure, navigating the peaks and valleys of your pussy, etches a sinful image in your memory, a visual symphony that resonates with the raw, primal energy between you.
His exploration is thorough, a sacred pilgrimage that transforms your most intimate sanctuaries into altars of pleasure. 
As his tongue dances with purpose, each exquisite movement sends ripples of pleasure through your body, eliciting gasps and moans that punctuate the charged air.
Your fingers entwine in the velvety strands of his midnight-black hair, a tactile dance that blurs the lines between pain and pleasure. The sensation of your grip sends a seismic shiver through him, a tangible expression of the fusion between your desire and his arousal. 
His groan, a harmonious blend of both agony and ecstasy, resonates in the intimate space between you. 
His adept tongue orchestrates a tantalizing symphony, each rhythmic stroke sending waves of pleasure through your core. The artful dance of his lips and tongue creates a crescendo of desire, a masterful performance that leaves you gasping for breath.
As he delves deeper into the artistry of your desire, his movements evoke the most primal and exquisite sounds — a melodic fusion of slurping and sighs that harmonize with the symphony of your escalating pleasure. 
In the languid exploration of your body, his tender touch becomes a testament to the depth of his affection. Each deliberate caress is a celebration of intimacy, as if he’s unraveling the layers of your being to expose the essence of your bond. 
The unhurried pace of his movements whispers of a profound appreciation for the canvas of your skin, savoring every nuance as if committing the map of your body to memory.
The love you feel for him, and the love he showers upon you, intertwine like vines, creating a tapestry of shared passion that envelops both of you in its rich, intricate patterns.
As you lie there, engulfed in the warmth of his adoration, an unexpected realization strikes you — he possesses the qualities of an extraordinary lover and, perhaps, an incredible father. 
Your mind, caught in the whirlwind of emotions, begins to spiral. It’s not a descent into chaos; rather, it’s an ascent into your possible future. The thought flickers through your mind like a gentle flame, casting a soft glow on the image of your shared moments. How loving he would be towards a child, how amazing he would be. You can feel the telltale signs of anxiousness slowly seeping into your body.
In this moment, you can’t help but acknowledge the depth of your feelings for him. Damn, you love him so much.
As Yoongi tenderly explores the landscape of your pussy, your mind, like an unwelcome guest, insists on revisiting the uncertainties that have been haunting you. The touch that should be a remedy becomes a battleground between the present moment and the lingering worries that threaten to steal your focus.
In this emotional tug-of-war, you find yourself caught between the desire to surrender to the sensations and the compulsion to confront the uncertainties head-on. 
As Yoongi’s skilled touch ventures into your warm walls, your senses respond with an electrifying awareness. The moment he slips a finger inside, a surge of pleasure cascades through you, momentarily eclipsing the persistent thoughts that have plagued your mind. 
The explicit bond between you and Yoongi becomes a lifeline, grounding you in the immediate sensations that demand your attention.
“Ah, fuck,” you moan, wanting more of his electrifying touch.
In a slow and deliberate rhythm, Yoongi withdraws his finger, creating an exquisite tension that leaves you yearning for more. The anticipation builds as he re-enters, his finger becoming a conduit for both pleasure and promise. 
With every measured thrust, the world around you blurs, and the only reality is the electrifying connection between you and him.
As his finger dances within you, the dual sensation of his intimate exploration and the tantalizing strokes on your clit forms a harmonious symphony of ecstasy. It’s a delicate balance between sweet torture and the promise of release, a dance that makes you teeter on the edge of losing yourself entirely.
Your mind, once clouded with uncertainty, now revels in the intoxicating sensations he elicits. 
Each stroke of his finger becomes a stroke of liberation, freeing you from the shackles of doubt and leading you into a realm where pleasure reigns supreme.
As he introduces a second finger into the dance of pleasure, a new dimension of sensation unfolds. The subtle stretch sends tendrils of pleasure through you, and you find yourself instinctively meeting his every thrust. 
His fingers, now working in tandem, navigate the depths of your pussy with an intimate familiarity. Each calculated movement is a testament to his skill, an artful exploration of your most sensitive realms. 
As he delves deeper, you can’t help but surrender to the crescendo of pleasure building within you. The hunger for more intensifies, an insatiable craving that propels you both into uncharted territory.
The precipice of pleasure looms ever nearer, a tantalizing edge that threatens to consume you entirely. Every caress, every thrust brings you to the brink, and the intensity becomes almost overwhelming. The electric current of desire courses through your veins, a pulsating reminder of the ecstasy that hangs in the air.
Your breaths come in shallow gasps, mirroring the urgency of your body’s response to the impending release. 
“Yoon, I’m so close!” 
The words escape your lips in breathless pants, carried on the wings of passion that envelop both of you in a cocoon of desire.
The room is filled with the husky hum of satisfaction as he skillfully introduces a third finger into the delicate equation, causing your breath to hitch in a symphony of pleasure. 
The subtle, rhythmic sound of your mewls, like a sweet melody, harmonizes with the intoxicating atmosphere of shared desire.
A whirlwind of thoughts engulfs your mind, a tempest of emotions and musings that dance in a chaotic waltz. It’s as if a storm of contemplation has descended upon the landscape of your consciousness, leaving you breathless and slightly disoriented.
His teasing suction on your clit becomes a rhythmic pulse, each pull and release sending ripples of sensation through your body. Your spine arches involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the pleasure that courses through you like a current. 
Your breath catches in your throat, a melody of moans and gasps escaping in harmony with the rising pleasure.
You’re losing yourself in the cadence of pleasure, surrendering to the rising tide that threatens to pull you under.
As his fingers expertly navigate the landscape of your pussy, seeking out the elusive treasure of your G-spot, the anticipation within you becomes a taut string, ready to unravel in the most euphoric crescendo.
Each deliberate stroke against your G-spot is a seismic pulse, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core.
The knot in your stomach tightens with every rhythmic press of his fingers, the tension reaching a point where it can no longer withstand the impending release. 
As the wave of climax crashes over you, every muscle in your body tightens, a testament to the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.
The sheer power of the moment finds its voice in a raw, unrestrained scream of his name, a primal melody that reverberates through the van. The sound is a visceral release, an unbridled declaration of pleasure that echoes in the air.
Simultaneously, your vision blurs, the world reduced to a kaleidoscope of colors as tears stream down your cheeks.
In the aftermath of your climax, Yoongi moves with a swiftness that speaks volumes about his care and concern. 
He withdraws from your core, his face adorned with the glistening remnants of your orgasm. The concern etched across his features mirrors the tenderness in his touch as he strokes your cheeks, his fingertips collecting the tear-streaked evidence of your emotional release.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his voice a gentle melody that resonates with genuine care.
As the haze of passion begins to dissipate, you become acutely aware of the tears streaming down your face, each droplet a silent witness to the complex interplay of pleasure and emotion. 
It’s a realization that unfolds gradually, like the petals of a delicate flower unfurling under the touch of the morning sun.
Your eyes flutter open, meeting Yoongi’s concerned gaze, the soft orbs reflecting a myriad of emotions—care, tenderness, and a silent inquiry. The unspoken question hangs in the air, inviting you to share the intricate tapestry of feelings that now envelop you.
As you tenderly cup his face, the warmth of your touch conveying a myriad of unspoken emotions, you draw him into a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation is a delicate dance, a symphony of lips meeting in a silent exchange that transcends the need for words. In that fleeting moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and all that remains is the intimate connection between your souls.
As your lips meet, there’s a subtle play of emotions on his face—confusion mingled with a growing awareness. It’s as if your kiss serves as a revelation, unraveling layers of uncertainty and paving the way for a deeper understanding. 
“I’m…” you choke on the words, the weight of them hanging heavy in the air. Your voice trembles, a symphony of vulnerability as you muster the courage to confess, “I’m late.”
He sits up on his knees, the subtle play of emotions flickering across his face—confusion, concern, and a tinge of fear that he’s trying to mask. 
The world around you seems to pause, caught in the gravity of the revelation. The soft glow of the room casts shadows on his features, emphasizing the lines of his furrowed brow and the intensity of his gaze.
“My period.” You exhale the words, each syllable a confession carrying the weight of uncertainty. The air in the van seems to crystallize as the truth hangs in the space between you two, a revelation that both defines and challenges the contours of your shared reality. 
There’s a palpable shift, a seismic ripple that traverses the emotional landscape.
As you release those two words into the room, you can almost sense the burden lifting from your shoulders, the unspoken fears and the silent cacophony of questions dissipating. 
Yoongi’s ‘oh’ escapes his lips like a subtle revelation, a key turning in the lock of understanding. His laughter, a melodic cascade of mirth, breaks the tension that hangs in the air, diffusing it like a gust of wind through a dense forest. As he laughs, his eyes crinkle at the corners, and you can’t help but be captivated by the sheer joy that emanates from him.
You turn to him, an arched brow, an unspoken inquiry, a silent prompt for an explanation to unravel the mystery of his amusement. 
“Is this what has been on your mind lately?” 
Yoongi’s chuckle resonates in the air, wrapping the room in a light, casual ambiance. As the sound tickles your ears, you find yourself frowning, an unexpected twist in his reaction catching you off guard. This wasn’t the response you anticipated, and it leaves a flicker of confusion in your eyes.
His chuckle, like a riddle yet to be unraveled, compels you to seek clarity. The lines on his face soften into a playful smile, but you sense there’s more beneath the surface—layers of emotion waiting to be uncovered.
You gracefully sit up, your hands instinctively finding support behind you. As you rise, there’s a subtle grace in your movements, a dance of poise and strength. 
His voice, a soothing melody, envelops you in a comforting embrace as he reassures, “It’s okay, babe.” There’s an innate understanding in his tone, a blend of empathy and strength that makes you feel seen and supported.
As he utters those words, his eyes become a safe haven, inviting you to share the weight of your concerns. You notice a subtle glint of concern, a reflection of his genuine care for your well-being. It’s not just a question; it’s an invitation to share the burden, a bridge to traverse the uncertain terrain together.
“Have you taken a test yet?”
Your head shakes with a slow, deliberate motion, a silent admission that echoes in the stillness between you two. “We haven’t really been close to a store these couple of days,” you mumble, your words carrying the weight of circumstance and a touch of vulnerability.
Yoongi’s voice carries a soothing cadence, a melody of reassurance that wraps around you like a comforting embrace. 
“Then you can take one when we get to Ansan, and then we’ll know, okay?” His words resonate with a mix of tenderness and practicality, casting a lifeline of certainty in the sea of uncertainties.
Your voice trembles with genuine curiosity as you turn to Yoongi, searching for the calm center in the storm of your emotions. 
“How are you so okay with this?” The question lingers in the air, heavy with the weight of your uncertainty.
“I told you before. I want kids, so I don’t mind. And I love you,” his voice, filled with a sincere tenderness, caresses your ears like a cherished melody, a symphony of reassurance. As Yoongi’s words wash over you, carrying the warmth of his love, you find yourself enchanted by the sincerity in his voice.
“I love you too!” 
Your words spill forth like a cascade, infused with a passion that dances in the air. The sincerity in your voice creates a melody that resonates in the space between you and Yoongi, a sweet harmony of shared emotions. He can’t help but chuckle, a tender sound that mingles with the affectionate atmosphere, like a secret language only the two of you understand.
“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. Pregnancy or not, I want to be with you,” he declares, sealing his words with a kiss that carries the weight of unwavering commitment.
“Now lay back down so I can make sweet love to you,” he murmurs with a playful slap on your ass, drawing a light chuckle from you. As you comply with his request, the air crackles with anticipation, and the van seems to buzz with the shared energy of desire.
With your tears now dried, a renewed sense of elation washes over you, lifting you into a state of weightlessness. The earlier worries and anxieties have dissipated, leaving behind a serene anticipation for his tender touch. 
With a subtle yet confident movement, he draws you back up, skillfully assisting you in shedding your shirt. The air crackles with a charged energy as he guides you back down, each motion deliberate and unhurried. 
As he hovers above, fully clothed, a sudden intensity sweeps over the room. 
He descends urgently, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that eclipses time. The embrace is fervent, a fusion of desire and hunger. He bites your bottom lip, a delicious intrusion that elicits a gasp, and as your mouths meld, tongues entwining in an intricate dance, the van seems to vibrate with the electric charge of longing. 
His moan reverberates within you, sending delightful shivers down your spine.
His hands travel down your body, his destination becomes clear as his lips find your breasts. A wave of pleasure courses through you as he takes one of them into his mouth, his tongue dancing with a rhythmic intensity. Simultaneously, his hand expertly caresses and squeezes the other, creating a symphony of sensations that leaves you breathless, lost in the exquisite rhythm of his touch.
His mouth envelops your nipple, coaxing it into a hard bud as he skillfully circles his tongue around it. The teasing bites send electric pulses of pleasure through your body, and you can’t help but moan in ecstasy. 
A surge of arousal courses through your body, igniting every nerve and leaving you acutely aware of the growing intensity between you and Yoongi. 
It’s as if a tidal wave of desire has been unleashed, sweeping away any lingering tension and leaving only the magnetic pull drawing you both closer.
Yoongi shifts his attention to your other breast, and a shiver runs down your spine as his skillful tongue creates a tingling sensation that sends waves of pleasure through your body. Each gentle bite and swirl of his tongue feels like a carefully orchestrated symphony, and you can’t help but arch your back in response to the electrifying pleasure he’s unleashing.
Your breath quickens, and the anticipation of another orgasm builds within you.
Yoongi, attuned to your heightened arousal, allows his free hand to navigate the landscape of your pussy. With deliberate intent, his fingers find your throbbing clit, and a jolt of pleasure courses through you as he gives it a teasing pinch. 
The dual sensations from both his mouth on your breast and his skilled fingers dancing on your most sensitive spot send shivers down your spine, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
“Ah!” an involuntary cry of pleasure escapes your lips, a raw and unfiltered expression of the ecstasy coursing through your body. Your breaths come in ragged pants, each exhale a testament to the overwhelming sensations Yoongi is coaxing from you.
His fingers dance skillfully over your clit, expertly pushing you closer to the edge. Simultaneously, his warm tongue flicks sensuously across your nipple, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your veins. 
In a crescendo of sensation, the knot in your stomach unravels, and you succumb to the powerful waves of ecstasy crashing over you. 
Ecstasy courses through every fiber of your being, causing your toes to curl involuntarily. Your breath comes in hurried pants, and the world around you blurs into a hazy abstraction.
As you slowly open your eyes, you find yourself ensnared in the gaze of Yoongi, his eyes reflecting an ocean of love that threatens to engulf your very soul. In those deep pools of affection, you sense an unwavering connection, a silent promise that transcends words. 
“I don’t think it’s fair that I’m the only one completely naked,” chuckling, you playfully swat at Yoongi’s sculpted chest.
With a surge of desire, you sit up, pushing him backward. The room crackles with anticipation as you grab his shirt, flinging it haphazardly onto the bed. Your lips crash against his in a hungry kiss, an unspoken urgency that reveals the depths of your longing for his touch.
Your fingers trail a fiery path down his chest. The heat between you intensifies as your hands venture lower, reaching the confines of his pants where a pronounced bulge yearns to be released—a silent plea echoing the passion that simmers beneath the surface.
In a fleeting moment of daring desire, you tease him with the tantalizing touch of your hand through the fabric, evoking a frustrated moan that hangs in the air. With an intoxicating mix of boldness and anticipation, you deftly pull down his pants and boxers, unveiling his throbbing dick.
As the last barrier of clothing drops away, leaving him gloriously exposed before you, he joins in the mirth, a playful chuckle escaping his lips. With an affectionate gleam in his eyes, he guides you back down, eager to continue the symphony of passion that has only just begun.
As his lips meet yours in a tender dance, his eyes lock onto yours, a silent exchange of emotions passing between those beautiful orbs. In that moment, it’s as if the entire cosmos is reflected in the depths of your gaze, and the world outside fades into insignificance.
As he reaches for a condom, you raise a questioning eyebrow at him.
“One last time before we find out if you’re pregnant or not?” 
With a playful smirk, Yoongi holds the foil in front of you, his question hanging in the air like a sweet promise. 
As the anticipation lingers in the air, you find yourself questioning the necessity of the condom. The unspoken desire for a deeper connection, to feel him without barriers, tugs at your thoughts. Yet, you understand the significance of this moment, a delicate balance between shared passion and the impending revelation. 
It’s a bittersweet dance, the choice wrapped in a poignant acknowledgment of the unknown future, making this last embrace all the more meaningful.
“Fine, one last time then.” 
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you surrender to the shared decision. 
With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you wrap your fingers around his impressive hardness. A playful stroke elicits a deep, appreciative moan from him, resonating in the air like a sweet melody of desire.
His breath hitches, and he whispers, “You don’t have to, babe,” the words laced with desire. 
“I still want you to forget your name,” he whispers against your ear, his breath creating a delicate dance of sensations that sends shivers down your spine. 
You hum, a pleased and sultry melody resonating through your words. “But I want to. Please let me suck you; you taste so good.” 
He pants, his breath hitched with a blend of desire and amusement. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “How can I say no to those sweet eyes and that dirty mouth of yours?” 
With a languid motion, he settles back on the bed, creating an inviting space for you between his well-defined legs. 
You crawl between his legs, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips. Slowly, sensually, you run your tongue along the length of his throbbing dick, savoring the moment before releasing a teasing droplet of saliva that glistens in the soft light. 
You take him into your mouth in one smooth, deliberate motion, the warmth and wetness engulfing his cock entirely. A primal hiss escapes his lips, a symphony of pleasure echoing in the van as you work your magic. 
With determination, you savor the taste of his precum, deciding to be bolder. You inch your way down, taking him deeper until your nose brushes against his coarse pubic hair.
As you breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, the obscene sounds escaping him become a symphony that resonates through your core.
His fingers entwine in your hair, tugging gently, a visceral reminder of the intimate connection between you. 
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, the praise dripping with desire and approval. The sensation of his touch, both tender and possessive, sends shivers down your spine, creating a delicious tension in the air.
As you pull away, a satisfying pop resonates in the room, accompanied by the symphony of your shared breaths. Gasping for air, you meet his gaze, and a playful chuckle escapes his lips, filling the space like a melody that only the two of you understand.
You plunge eagerly, your tongue tracing a sinuous dance around his length, creating a tantalizing symphony of pleasure. As you hum with a subtle vibration, the sensations reverberate, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
“Shit,” he breathes, his voice a low rasp as you feel his dick twitching in your mouth. 
You pull away once more, savoring the moment, and playfully trace the contours of the head of his dick with your tongue. Without further delay, you take him back into your mouth, the shared pleasure deepening with each devoted stroke.
You sense his hands in your hair, a gentle yet urgent pull, as he tries to guide you upward.
“As much as I love your mouth on my dick, I really want to make love to you.” 
He murmurs, drawing your head towards his, initiating a fervent kiss. The taste of himself on your tongue is a fleeting reminder, you know he doesn’t mind, it only fuels the passion between you.
He presses you gently into the sheets, the heat between you intensifying. With a swift motion, he retrieves the discarded foil from the tangled sheets, tearing it open before expertly rolling the condom onto his cock. 
As he lines up his dick with your eager entrance, a shiver of anticipation courses through both of you. With deliberate slowness, he eases into your folds, a dance of pleasure that draws out the exquisite tension in the air. 
The languid pace of his movements creates a sweet agony, a tantalizing dance that turns seconds into eternity. His unhurried rhythm, though almost maddening, speaks volumes of his desire to etch this time into the very fabric of your memories, turning the passage of time into a canvas for your passion.
Ecstasy courses through your veins as he delves deeper, the exquisite stretch sending a shiver down your spine. A symphony of sensations unfolds, and a breathy moan escapes your lips, a testament to the delicious ache that accompanies the perfect alignment of your bodies. 
With each rhythmic thrust, he unearths your most sensitive places, creating a euphoric melody that resonates with the primal rhythm of desire.
Your voice, laced with a desperate plea, dances in the air as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure. 
“Fuck, Yoongi,” you moan, the words a fervent hymn to the ecstasy that engulfs you.
His grunt reverberates through the van, primal and intense, echoing the raw desire coursing through both of you. He begins to thrust with a tantalizing combination of slow, deliberate movements and rapid, passionate surges.
Every deliberate movement is a languid dance, a symphony of intimacy orchestrated by his tender touch. The deliberate pace allows you both to savor every sensation, each gentle thrust a declaration of his love and desire.
As he descends to capture your lips, it feels like a plunge into a world where time stands still. The kiss leaves you breathless, suspended in a moment that defies gravity. It’s not just a meeting of lips; it’s a celestial dance, leaving you weightless, floating in the ethereal connection between you and him.
Your thoughts dissolve into an exquisite haze, the only clarity emerging from the waves of pleasure he orchestrates. It’s as if the symphony of sensations has drowned out everything else, leaving only the echoes of ecstasy reverberating through your mind.
The knot in your stomach, a manifestation of building pleasure, tightens with every deliberate and passionate movement. Your hands instinctively seek solace on his biceps, anchoring you to the reality of the intimate dance unfolding between your entwined bodies.
As he bends down, his warm breath tickles your earlobe, and in a husky whisper, he confesses, “I’m close, babe.” 
The words, laden with raw desire, send a delicious shiver down your spine.
In the heated passion of the moment, his kisses are fervent and demanding. As his hands explore your body, a surge of desire courses through you when he skillfully pinches both your nipples with his calloused fingers. The sensation makes you arch your back, an involuntary response to the electrifying pleasure that his touch ignites.
In the throes of ecstasy, you can’t help but vocalize the overwhelming pleasure. Your breathless confession, “I’m close too. It’s so good, Yoongi,” escapes in a sultry melody, a raw expression of the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.
With a skilled move, he shifts his hand from your breasts, seamlessly guiding one of your legs over his shoulder. The new angle intensifies every sensation, his every thrust reaching new depths, causing you to release a symphony of moans that echo the escalating pleasure pulsating between you.
“You feel so good around me,” he murmurs, the praise mingling with his ragged breaths. As he maintains the unhurried rhythm, his skilled hand works wonders on your breast.
An electrifying surge courses through you, an unstoppable wave of pleasure crashing into every nerve, leaving you breathless and temporarily adrift in orgasm. As the echoes of ecstasy reverberate through your body, you find yourself in a cocoon of bliss, tethered only by the warmth of Yoongi’s presence above you.
“Fuck!”
Ecstasy courses through him, a guttural exclamation escaping his lips as the rhythmic clenching of your warm walls becomes his undoing. He succumbs to the wave of release, finding solace in the intimacy you both share.
As he releases your leg, it descends gracefully to his side, a silent testament to the shared intensity that just unfolded. Your bodies, now entwined and damp with shared desire, settle into a momentary stillness. His head, heavy with the weight of shared pleasure, finds a resting place atop yours.
He seals the moment with a lingering kiss, a sweet echo of the passion you both just shared. Gently withdrawing from your pussy, he eases himself down beside you, and discards the condom to the floor.
You witness the rhythmic dance of his chest, an intricate ballet choreographed by the ebb and flow of his breaths. Each rise and fall seems like a silent symphony, a testament to the shared intimacy that still lingers in the air. 
You gracefully position yourself on his lap, catching him off guard with the sudden move. The subtle sway of your breasts becomes a tantalizing dance, drawing his gaze irresistibly. A mischievous smile plays on your lips, a silent promise of the passion that’s about to unfold.
As you bask in the afterglow, a surge of emotions overwhelms you, and you can’t hold back the confession bubbling within. “I love you so much. No matter what. I’ve loved you for so many years,” you whisper, laying bare the depths of your heart. 
His eyes mirror your affection, and a serene “Me too,” escapes his lips, carrying the weight of years and years of longing. With a tender smile, you lean into him to seal the moment with a soft, lingering kiss, sealing your love in the quiet intimacy of the shared space between you two.
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Hoseok’s frustration spills out as he declares, “I told you it was a bad idea to take Joonie there; he breaks everything!” 
The edge in his voice carries a hint of irritation, directed at Seokjin. As they make their way back to the van, the tension in the air is palpable.
Namjoon, wearied by the perpetual reminders of his purported clumsiness, rolls his eyes. It’s evident that the narrative of him breaking everything has grown stale, and his expression reflects a mix of resignation and mild exasperation. 
His steps come to an abrupt halt as the mesmerizing sight unfolds before him. The camp comes into view, revealing a sight that seizes his attention – you, cradled in Yoongi’s arms covered in blankets, perched on a stool by the flickering warmth of the campfire. 
The scene, painted with the hues of the dancing flames, captures a moment of intimate togetherness that momentarily holds him captive.
He playfully smacks Hoseok’s chest, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Look at that,” he chuckles, his finger extending to showcase the van standing proudly in the distance.
Seokjin’s eyes soften with warmth as he gazes upon your tranquil figures. “Aw,” he gushes, captivated by the peaceful scene before him.
As you gradually awaken in the cocoon of Yoongi’s warmth, your eyes flutter open to find the circle of your friends seated on stools beside you. Their eyes meet yours, each reflecting a unique blend of affection, camaraderie, and unspoken stories.
Yoongi grunts a sleepy “hi,” his voice carrying the weight of the peaceful slumber you both shared. 
Hoseok’s laughter rings out, breaking the serene night air. “Hi, sleepyheads,” he chuckles, searching for a beer in the dimly lit surroundings.
Namjoon’s voice breaks the quiet night, daring to remark, “You look tired and glowing.” 
You release a soft breath, snuggling deeper into Yoongi’s pectorals, fingers intertwining with his.
Seokjin begins to utter, “Did you finally f–” but you abruptly cut him off, declaring, “If you finish that sentence, I’m gonna skin you alive and wear your dick like a party hat.” 
Your words hit like venom, leaving Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok gasping, their eyes widened as if about to fall out of their sockets.
Yoongi’s chuckles resonate underneath you, the melodic sound wrapping around you like a warm embrace, a symphony you wish would play on a loop for eternity.
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→ Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 → Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast, @tatyhend, @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **you can still be added to the taglist, just drop a comment here, on any chapter or the masterlist and I’ll add you 🌸
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nouearth · 1 year ago
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a letter to spider-man.
peter parker x male reader.
summary: spider-man launched his own help line and you need his advice in talking to your crush: peter.
wc: 1.2k. genre: fluff, comfort!fic. warnings: holland!peter, social anxiety, mention of death, crushes, college!au.
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peter wasn’t sure what made him decide to do this: a spider-man help line. one day, he woke up and wanted to fulfill a sense of purpose more than he already has—to help out the public more, to build a community that peter has been wanting to fix since the death of his aunt.
so far, they’ve been pretty simple tasks: walking the dogs, helping a blind woman with grocery shopping, fixing a broken pipe with his webs—it was all out of the kindness of his own big heart. a heart that his aunt once nurtured.
it was hard at first. from being a ‘save the world’ hero to a ‘save the dog from burning up in a locked car’ hero, it was a downgrade one might find—peter did at first. 
but it’s been a while since he saw the relieved smiles on the public’s faces whenever he swung from the corner. true happiness that he was envious of at times, but nonetheless grateful for, and so that would become his motivation. 
maybe it can make the world a better place if people happen to be inspired by his actions. small stuff that regular civilians can achieve. a domino effect that peter hoped for.
—april 10th
dear spider-man, so, this is a thing now, huh? the future is so unpredictable, so i actually never thought i’d be writing to you. well, i guess the future would be me texting you like you advertised, but i like writing. it makes my hand cramp, and my handwriting is terrible (sorry, i hope you can still read this), but it feels good. like... shouting at the sky, i would imagine, so i prefer it. i’ve also been watching a lot of ‘80s and ‘90s movies, which could also be a major factor.  and i just realized i’m supposed to tell you about my problems! this is kinda hilarious because i think i’ve probably rewritten my letter six times already.  also, are you living your citizen life as a therapist or something? because why else would you be helping people this way? not that we don’t appreciate it, but it’s different. you’ve probably stopped reading by now, but in case you haven’t, i’ll keep the rest short. i guess my problem is… i like this guy. i know you’re not a relationship therapist (your secret is safe with me if you are though), but i figured a guy like you knew how to talk to people? you save people on a daily basis, so you probably aren’t scared anymore, right? that theory worked better in my head, to be honest, so scratch that! anyway, his name is peter. we’re both freshmen in college, so we’ve been seeing each other a lot, especially since we’re in the same classes. did i mention that i’m a guy as well? i don’t know him that well. i’m pretty quiet, i guess. invisible, maybe? it’s funny. sometimes, my professors would forget that i was even in their classes until i would speak up. but besides that point, he probably doesn’t even know that i exist either.  the perks of being invisible—i’m not even sure if there are any, because i’m noticeable enough on days where people want to say stuff. mean, terrible stuff. i wonder if he notices me, though. probably not, but a guy could only hope. i think we’d get along. again, hope! he’s smart and humble, always insecure of his own answers even though he knows—everyone knows—that it’s correct. kind, too. also awkward, like me. but the cute-awkward, not the me-awkward. i like him. i want to be friends with him. maybe even more? but i’m not greedy! i can settle with being friends.  i guess, how can i approach him?
thank you, (m/n)
it caught peter off guard at first—seeing his name in the same vicinity as spider-man became a jump-scare. even though, the sender kept everything pretty vague to keep the named crush relatively anonymous, there was a gut feeling telling peter that it was him—the culprit of (m/n)’s stolen heart.
nah, there are so many peters..! just a coincidence.
it took him longer than he thought to come up with a sufficient reply. usually, a task would’ve been done because all he had to do was use his body, his webs to do good—not his words. inexperienced yet excited, peter smiled while writing his letter.
peter wasn’t great at consoling people. hell, he couldn’t even make himself feel better. but he’ll try, like he always does. 
—april 23rd
hi (m/n)! sorry for taking so long to get back to you! life’s been crazy with everything going on. did you know that there’s been at least ten deli robberies that i managed to save this week alone? something about that chicken salad sandwich drives people nuts… like you, peter’s actually been pretty swamped with exams and graduation. i also want to congratulate you for being the only one that has written a letter to me instead of using the chat service! i’ve never written a letter before, so excuse my rustiness. my handwriting is way worse than yours. mine looks like if you gave a dog a pen and made it write. freshman year of college is a big year for you, for everyone. i remember the feeling of feeling so lost!  still know the feeling.  don’t get me wrong. yes, i’ve become braver since i started this spider-man stuff. but i still get scared, you know? life is so unpredictable and you never know when something might go wrong, and unexpectedly go so right.  like, just the other day, i got anxious when i was ordering from a drive-thru! they didn’t hear me, so i had to repeat my order. then again, because the mic sucked or whatever! even though it was only me, i felt so embarrassed, like my cheeks swelling and itchy skin type of nervous. but then it quickly went away because… okay, well i got my burger and fries pretty quick, so that helped. but you know what i mean? there’s this potentially negative outcome that we’re so afraid of. when in reality, it’s only ever so fleeting. you said he’s a nice guy, right? he could also be scared to talk to you, and you would never know because you’re too busy knocking yourself down! everyone is awkward. I’m awkward. so are some of my family members, my friends too. and that feeling won’t ever go away. sometimes, it’s meant to be shared. being invisible isn’t so bad sometimes. i definitely know the feeling, even wished for it at times. you can listen to music without being bothered, that’s a bonus! but from what i’ve noticed from feeling invisible, it would always come when i was being unkind to myself. i had the worst perception of myself in the eyes of my peers, and that made me withdraw. i purposely isolated myself because i was being unkind. the way you view yourself reflects onto others. not all the time, sometimes people are genuinely just assholes. but from what you’ve been telling me about this peter guy, he seems pretty special. if you’re awkward, be awkward and laugh it off. there’s nothing more charming than being genuine, and being kind to yourself is part of that progress. I’m rooting for you (and peter)!
from your friendly neighbor, spidey.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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xticklemeemox · 3 months ago
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The Love You Want: III, Part Fourteen
So... my Ghost AU is now technically canon in my ST AU.
Word count: 15,669
Ao3
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In a rare moment alone, II paces back and forth in his room. Stress has his nerves fried, mind running around in circles as he goes over his mental to-do list. It's up to him for this festival gig to go smoothly. He knows if he asks it of III, they would help, but II doesn't want to bother them with all of this technical stuff. And Vessel... isn't in a place where he can help with any of it. Perhaps in the future, but right now? II couldn't possibly ask.
Wringing his hands and shaking them out to try and release some of the tension keeping his muscles wound tight, II continues pacing, mouthing off his list.
On top of II's stress over the festival itself, he was trying to juggle Vessel's overwhelming anxiety over the crowds and performing in front of people other than them. Not to mention, III has been quieter than usual all day. Vessel had sought II out for affection, which he had been happy to give, and III had been the one to isolate themselves. It was worrying, and III hadn't opened up about what had upset them yet. II was afraid to pry, and wanted to give him space.
Vessel's promise had helped immensely, even if he knows it will be a hard one to keep to. The fact that Vessel has promised at all... it truly means the world to II that he was willing to try, even if it wasn't for Vessel's own sake.
II was so tired, all the time. He needed to be strong, be responsible, and take care of the other two. He wants to take care of them, wants to keep them happy and safe, its just... it's hard. Sometimes all II wanted was to be held and allowed to cry, but he couldn't allow it. If he shows weakness, II fears the others won't want to trust him with their problems.
Being the Second, the pillar of the foundation they've laid, crumbling or cracking under pressure... He must not allow it. He was a pillar for Vessel, for III, throughout their struggles and will happily continue to be so. He refuses to crumble under the weight of his responsibilities. II knows he's better than that, knows he can handle this just fine. He has to. There is no other option. If he crumbles, II fears the others may fall, too.
He has to be the voice of reason in their devotion to Sleep. Their worship of the God leads them to accepting treatment befitting of a servant under heel of its master. II won't allow it. Sleep has been... getting better, to put it nicely. It is not enough. II will make damn sure the God learns how to be kind, how to be human. III is already teaching Him, in their own way, so full of love and life and irrevocably human in spite of their death and rebirth.
So right now, II needs to pull himself together. This festival gig is important. It's their first ever show and everything has to go according to plan.
Taking a deep breath and wiping away his tears, II reopens the sliver of the bond he'd closed off, just to let his own emotions loose from the tight leash he kept on them. Just for a few moments. It was time to find the others, he decides, checking the time on his phone before slipping it into his pocket. III is easiest, his door opened up a crack again. Knocking lightly, II pushes it open to find III asleep, dried tears on his face. Not usually one to nap during the day like II does, it was strange to find III like this. Whatever it was must've upset them pretty bad.
"Sweetheart?" II shakes III's shoulders gently.
Uncharacteristically, III startles, flailing away from II quickly with eyes still half-shut and blurry from sleep. Breathing quickened with fear, III's arms come up instinctually to cover his face.
Vessel's bond lights up with panic, and II struggles to send reassurance down their bond while also trying to talk III back into the present.
"It's just me, sweetheart. You're here, at the manor. Vessel has gone out to the forest on a walk and should be back any minute now."
As II speaks, III's arms slowly lower, so II takes a moment to perch on the edge of the bed, ready to move away if III needs space. Instead, III clambers onto II's lap, arms thrown around his shoulders as III buries their face in the crook of his neck.
From his pocket, II's phone starts ringing loudly. It makes III tense further. II answers it, already knowing who is calling.
"What-?!" Vessel sounds frantic, but II moves to cut him off quickly.
"Hey, Ves. Everything's alright." II starts, not missing how III marginally relaxes further at Vessel's voice, "No one's hurt, sweetheart."
"What's wrong, Three?" II asks gently, stroking up and down III's back as he holds him close.
"Nightmare. Of my death. Thought I was still- I'm sorry." III says, meek in a way II isn't sure he's ever heard him.
"Oh, sweetheart, there's no need to apologize. You were scared. You haven't had one of those in some time, love. Was it... the whole thing or did it cut off partway through like the other times?" II presses occasional kisses onto the top of III's head, hitching cries making II's heart break in half.
"Whole thing. Felt so real, like I was dying all over again."
A strange sense of guilt is creeping along the bond, but II couldn't possibly imagine what Vessel was feeling guilty for.
"I'm coming back." Vessel states, before there's an odd sound, and a muffled, "Please stop that, you can't eat my phone-"
"You don't need to come back, Ves. I'm fine." III reassures, still trembling slightly in II's arms but there's a small smile pulling weakly at one side. "Just... scared still."
"I- I do not want to just- I'm worried about you."
"I promise I'm okay." III reassures again, breathing beginning to calm down.
"Do you have him, Two?" Vessel asks, finally, after a moment of contemplative silence.
"Of course. He's safe with me. All wrapped up in my arms and clutching at me like a koala."
There's a small laugh, hesitant and weighed down by worry, from the other end of the line, crackling with static. "If you're sure."
"I am. Enjoy the rest of your walk but don't forget we need to leave in a few hours."
"I'll try to keep track of time. Stay safe. I- I l- Stop that, what did I say? My phone isn't edible!" Vessel's end of the line cuts off before he can finish whatever it was he was going to say.
"You think that was the stag that follows Ves around?" III murmurs, kissing II's neck softly in thanks.
II hums, hand now running through III's hair and gently untangling it, "Yes, I'd say so. Would you like some coffee? It might help you feel better."
III hums in return, "Don't want to move. This is... safe. Can we just stay here for a while?"
"Of course sweetheart." II agrees easily, picking III up with little effort and laying them both down on the bed.
III snuggles up close, long arms wrapping around II's smaller frame and tangling their legs together. Now he really is like a koala, II thinks fondly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" II murmurs into III's hair, stroking over their back again.
They shake their head in vehement refusal, and II let's it go. III knows he's here if he ever wants to talk, and that's enough, for now.
They stay like that for some time, III eventually calming down. Responsibility forces II up, apologetic words and kisses being peppered all over III's face. III lets out small giggles as II does so, easing the rest of the worry from II's heart. He feels less reluctant to leave them when Elvira hops up on the bed and nips at III's fingers. II leaves him as III picks her up, cuddling her close and talking tender nonsense into her fur.
As II is packing up their bags into the trunk of Vessel's car, Vessel himself finally returns from the forest. There are dried tears on his cheeks, but a small smile pulling at his lips. There's a crow on his shoulder, keeping balance as Vessel walks.
"You may leave now, if you wish. We're leaving soon." Vessel says quietly, clearly talking to the bird perched beside his head.
It caws lowly, nibbling at a strand of white hair before taking off. Vessel's hair is blown around in the ensuing wind current it causes, and II thinks he looks particularly beautiful, six eyes squinting shut as his face scrunches up.
"I was going to help with that." Vessel says as he finally reaches II's side.
"I've got it. None of it's heavy." II refutes with a tired smile.
"Just because you can... doesn't mean you have to." Vessel's soft smile tilts into a frown as he moves to grab some of the bags still on the ground.
"That sounds familiar." II huffs, shaking his head with a smile of his own, watching as Vessel puts the last of the bags in the trunk.
Thankfully, there still seems to be room for Nick's bags and any equipment he has can be put in the trailer II has rented. It was a miracle they'd managed to fit this much of their stuff inside the car at all. II is thankful for the help, though, and makes sure to tell Vessel as much. Vessel reaches out to take II's hand, planting a soft kiss to his knuckles. It warms II's cheeks as well as his heart.
"How is Three?" Vessel asks as II closes the trunk.
"Better. Still a bit off, but they're smiling again. I'm not sure you heard, but they dreamed of their death. Usually neither of us ever manage to relive them fully, but it was different this time."
Vessel's smile strains, a bit of guilt creeping up the bond again before it is squashed out. II frowns, "It's not your fault, you know. You didn't give it to him. Nightmares are the brains way of processing bad things. At least, that's what some studies say. The important thing is that III can wake up and no longer be subject to that torment. You're not so lucky, it seems. Which... upsets me. More than you know."
Somehow, Vessel's guilt worsens, blaming himself for something II knows isn't his fault.
"Its not your fault, either." Vessel whispers, pressing his side into II's as they walk back to the manor.
"Is there nothing Sleep can do to keep you from dreaming of your past so realistically? You're... you're bringing your injuries back with you." II worries, clasping their hands together.
"Since Sleep was so adamant I not rest, I'd imagine it is something He cannot control. It is... my own doing, I think. I am able to move freely sometimes, once the worst is over." Vessel admits, struggling with himself to not mention their Fourth.
He is desperate to tell them, but fear stays his hand. Sleep knows nothing of that man, has not even chosen a Fourth vessel.
"I hate that you continue to suffer." II spits out, bitter on Vessel's behalf, "That you can't seem to escape from your past despite Sleep taking most of your memories."
"Sleep could not... take much. Faces, names, those were easy. My pain was... is... so ingrained in me that there was little Sleep could take from me. My good memories are few, and most of them connected to my music. To keep me whole enough to function as something more than an empty vessel-" Vessel breaks off into strained laughter, a short stint that breaks II's heart, "Sleep had to leave everything you and III might consider bad. I am nothing without my pain, and nothing without this mask. I do not regret any of it. I have you two now, that is all I need. I feel... less like something, more like someone."
II is struggling to speak past the knot that has formed in his throat, so full of love and a carefully hidden rage. At Vessel's past. At Sleep, for not softening the edges of what was done to Vessel. Would it have been better for Vessel to have been a completely blank slate? Would it have erased the damage done to his soul if his mind no longer remembered anything?
Vessel swallows, overcome with his desire to say just how much II and III mean to him. Now would be a good moment, he knows. His throat is closing up, his ability to speak beginning to slip away, and Vessel flounders. He cannot let himself lose his voice, not right now, not today. So he forces himself to speak.
"I am... broken into fractions. You and Three are the only thing I feel keeps me from splintering apart irreparably. You are filling in my cracked soul with gold."
Vessel and II glance down as one at the golden cracks crawling up the skin of Vessel's arms where his veins are, their hands still joined tightly, and II realizes the truth of it. The truth in what Vessel has said. He has changed himself for them, in more ways than one. But II knows it is good change, when it comes to Vessel's mentality. He's healing, and II is overcome with the reality of it standing right in front of him.
"Can... Can I kiss you? I can't seem to find the words to respond to what you've just told me, but I love you. I love you so much, and I want to show you. I want you to know, need you to know that you mean the world to me. Not everyone is a poet like you." II blurts, embarrassed at his own speechlessness.
Vessel smiles, bending down so he's closer to II's height. II grins, a sad thing filled with adoration, using his available hand to gently wrap around Vessel's nape and pull him down into a kiss just as gentle.
When they find it in themselves to part, it isn't for long. II kisses Vessel again, and once more for good measure. Vessel's smile is infectious, and II grins up at him beautifully, no longer quite as sad.
"I love you, too. We should head inside, we need to leave soon."
"I know you're right but-" II starts, getting up on his tiptoes to kiss Vessel one more time.
Vessel laughs, squeezing II's hand gently. He doesn't speak, only leads II into the house. Elvira meets them at the door, meowing insistently, so Vessel breaks off to go and feed her, picking her up and nuzzling into her fur. Gold stains the white of her fur where Vessel's tears have yet to completely dry, and II wonders what made him so emotional on his walk that he was brought to tears.
II wonders if he should go up to the altar to ask his important questions, but knows Sleep is usually listening if they just call out his name when around the manor.
"Sleep? Will you keep an eye on Elvira while we're gone? I don't know if you'll even be able to, but she needs to be fed and watered regularly. I know we won't be gone that long but... Is that something this house can even do?" II says, contemplative and a little desperate as Vessel comes back to linger at his side.
Sleep laughs, the sound booming through the house, startling Vessel so badly he knocks into II, "I am sure the manor is capable of it, but I will personally make sure your creature stays alive while you're away. It is a... curious thing, and I will admit I've grown, fond perhaps, of it."
II is silent, contemplative, a serious expression on his face as he pulls Vessel to him, rubbing soothing circles into his bicep to calm him down, "You swear you will keep her safe? She means the world to me. To us."
"I swear it, my Second. I will keep your creature safe until you return. She will stay in the manor, out of harms way." Sleep responds, just as serious as II.
"Then, thank you. It means a lot to me that you are doing this." II gives his gratitude, expression going a little tight with apprehension and worry.
Sleep claims to care for Vessel but does not keep him safe. II is assured in his distrust of Sleep being able to keep Elvira safe, either.
This would be easier if II had unwavering faith in Sleep like Vessel does. It was so easy for Vessel, and sometimes II wonders what the God did to inspire that sort of unwavering faith. What led Vessel here to Sleep? It is a question that has plagued II the entire time he has been a vessel. II wants to ask, finds himself with the words on the tip of his tongue, but he can never bring himself to speak them.
He knows how he himself came to be here, how Sleep found III.
They know nothing about Vessel's arrival. How long he had been alone in this manor by himself. Only that he had found his way here in the dark, and suffered, immobile but aware, for weeks before his transformation was over. He had done so alone, and II will not forgive Sleep for it.
They do not know how he died, nor what drew Sleep to him in the first place. It is the only question Vessel had avoided, in the beginning. It is something II and III fear the answer to now.
III makes his way down the staircase, then, pressing into Vessel's other side with red rimmed eyes. "What about my garden? Some of my plants need watered daily or they'll die."
"Nothing here will die so long as my First lives. The land is connected to his soul."
III accepts the answer, already knowing of Vessel's magical ability to keep plants alive. Sleep's words aren't much of a stretch.
"Thank you." III grins though its not as bright as usual, turning to II and Vessel, "Are we ready to go? Nick's asking where we are."
"I've loaded everything up in the car and trailer. All that should be left is ourselves." II says, readying himself to give a goodbye to Sleep.
Hopefully, he doesn't sound too disrespectful.
"I have a request to make of you, my vessels, before you leave. You must keep my First safe while he is not here on my land. Minor gods will likely send their servants to try and harm him. It will be harder to heal any damage his body sustains."
"They do not need to fight on my behalf. I can protect myself." Vessel tries to protest, but II is quick to shut that notion down.
"Is this the purpose of our weapons? Was this not something that should have been mentioned when we first attained our weapons in the first place?"
"I was not certain, then, if any minor gods would be interested in my First. An... oversight on my part. I should have known my reputation would bring enemies to our doorstep, even after all these years with so little power."
II tries not to let his frown become too apparent, but knows he fails when III reaches behind Vessel to place a gentle hand on II's lower back.
II opens his mouth to say something more, something he knows would be rude, but III doesn't give him the chance, "We can all manifest our weapons with ease now. I think the only problem will be our ability to fight."
"You will know, my Third."
Vessel's mouth twists into a grimace, ducking his head, guilt of something that has not yet come to pass. II's hand is warm in his when he goes in search of it, III still pressed into his side. "I do not want either of you to get hurt for me."
"You would do the same for us, wouldn't you, sweetheart? It's fine. We want to protect you."
Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, and releasing it before any further damage is caused, Vessel forces his words out, "Only if you let me protect you, too."
"Don't worry so much, Sugar. One glance from II with his serious icy blues and any minor gods who dare come after you will go running off with their tails between their legs." III grins, but it is easy for the others to see that they're worried too.
"Keep each other safe, my vessels, and return to me."
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Once everyone has taken a long moment to cuddle Elvira, passing her between them while she meows indignantly at every kiss pressed upon her head, Vessel seals off the front door with vines. Then, they pile into the car. The moment Vessel is out of Sleep's earthly realm, something within him shifts, like the forest is calling him back. It's disorienting, leaving Vessel with a headache as he fights an instinctual reaction to toss himself out of the car and make his way back to the manor. III sits beside him, just until they get to Nick's apartment. They're warm against his side, close enough to feel Vessel tense up as they leave their realm.
"Ves? Are you alright?" They ask, not understanding what's happening.
Did they not feel the same pull Vessel does?
"The forest, the manor- knows I will be away. It knows I'm not just going into the city." Vessel grits out, a hand coming up to hold his head. "It wants me back."
"But this is our duty, given to us by Sleep. Why would-?" II states, turning the blinker on to pull the car over.
"Don't! Don't stop the car. If you stop, I'm not sure that I won't get out and run back. Please."
Vessel hunches over, sucking in deep breaths to try and calm himself, even if he doesn't truly need the air. III's hands hover over him, unsure of how to help. When he can feel the pull lessening marginally, though his headache only grows worse, Vessel speaks again.
"The forest is sentient. It is under Sleep's command, but it is also it's own entity. Sleep told me once that when I was made a vessel, it brought the forest back to life. Its- It's connected to me, similarly to how Sleep is."
"You've never mentioned this before, Ves." III says, quiet, a little hurt.
"I'm sorry- It... it slipped my mind. The news was dulled by my state of mind, I was... so tired, then. I never thought to tell either of you."
"Is that why the vines in the manor react to you as they do?"
Vessel scrunches his eyes shut, feeling sick over the lie he is about to tell. It's not... completely lying. Just... omitting some of the truth.
"Yes, part of it."
II and III share a glance in the rear view mirror when Vessel doesn't continue. "Please, Two, please just keep driving."
II glances back at him for a beat too long, eyes straying from the road dangerously, and then the car speeds up to the speed limit. Vessel is thankful, leaning into III and hiding his head behind III's shoulder. III's hand is on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles as Vessel tries to force himself to stay seated. It grows easier the further away they get, the distance stretching out and making the calls of Sleep's earthly realm quieter with every passing mile.
Vessel is tense the entire ride to the festival, a mix of nerves and close proximity to Nick keeping his body on high alert. Its a few cities over and the longest car ride they've all made together thus far. He is uncomfortable the whole trip, sitting in the backseat of the car with Nick, who they'd picked up from his apartment on the way. The back seat wasn't small, per se, but it didn't leave a lot of room for two full grown men to stretch out. It was fine, when it was III and Vessel in the back, but it left Fore being closer to Vessel than the other had ever allowed, bugs crawling along Vessel's skin at his nearness.
He kept making lingering glances whenever he thought Vessel wouldn't notice, or perhaps he knew Vessel felt his piercing gaze and simply continued.
II and III kept trying to make conversation with him, sharing concerned glances as Vessel falls into complete silence. III finds themselves wishing they'd stayed back there with him, but II needed help with navigation so he could keep his hands on the road and neither of them were sure Nick was up to the job.
The festival grounds are large, empty space dotted with stages and tents, festival crew milling about. III keeps a tight hold on Vessel's hand while the other follows after him closely, all three vessels wearing face masks to keep most of themselves covered. If this were their home they wouldn't have bothered but this is unknown territory for professional band duties, so they will keep themselves covered.
II gets them all checked in, and then they head back to their car for their equipment. Faint whispers follow Vessel wherever he goes, unintelligible as the few shadows around seem to reach towards him. He frowns, not understanding all throughout the day, long after their equipment is gathered and they wait for their set time to near. It's as they're meeting one of the festival workers for their stage does the realization finally strike him.
Sleep is remaining as close as He can get outside of his realm.
"Hey! Nice to meet you, my name's Sam. I'll be helping out as a stage hand for the day. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
II and III introduce themselves to the man who is taller than II but still not quite as tall as III, though it's a close thing. His hair is a dark mess of loose curls, in a shorter cut. Some tattoos adorn his arms bared by the festival worker uniform.
He seems friendly enough, Sleep's faint presence at Vessel's shoulder, growing stronger in clear interest. The whispers grow louder, Vessel's shadow against the dirt ground seeming to darken.
Vessel steps up, holding his hand out to be shaken, in a bold move spurred on by Sleep's presence. "Vessel. Pleasure to meet you."
As quiet as his voice is, Sam has to strain to hear him, but his smile remains kind, grip strong and firm as he shakes Vessel's hand. He lets go after a couple seconds, as is proper.
Unlike Nick.
A little more at ease, though still fraught with nerves, Vessel steps back to hide behind III, taking the others hand tightly. III is sending his pride gently down the bond as II talks over some technical stuff with Sam, making Vessel's face warm with a blush. Nick is suspiciously absent, Vessel notices, but is glad for it.
"I'll lead you to your changing room. It's more of a space sectioned off by a curtain, but I did what I could to give you guys a bit more privacy than the other bands have been afforded. Most of us have been informed you're anonymous."
As they walk, II and Sam talk about II's preferences for his drum set. Sam is eagerly taking everything in with a professional air about him, and Vessel finds himself studying the shorter man curiously. Is Sleep considering him for their Fourth?
While Vessel finds Sam to be nice enough, he knows he is not the right fit for the position.
Sam leaves them be when they reach their curtained off room, informing them they're free to wander around the festival grounds if they wish, but to make sure they keep their performers lanyards on their persons at all times.
After hefty deliberation, Vessel had decided he would use the first version of his mask, the one with the lower half of his face bared. Sleep had gifted II and III white versions of their black masks with a baser version of the runes adorning their bodies. III had excused the extra one as something they'd had made, when a mask was handed to Fore. In reality, it was a gift from Sleep before they'd left.
Holding his original mask in hand, Vessel traces over the red markings etched into it, thinking of its full faced form. It looked much like an 'S' and a 'T', Vessel realizes. Is there a chance that Sleep knew what their band's name would be? Vessel isn't sure. There are some things Sleep knows that haven't come to pass yet, and other things that elude them.
Turning his attention elsewhere, Vessel pulls a jar of paint out of his duffel bag. It's wrapped carefully, lid tight, but it gives easily under Vessel's hands.
"Two?" Vessel calls, quiet, and II pops his head up, startled.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He calls back, pocketing his phone after ending the call he had been on with their manager.
"Sleep wants us to cover ourselves with this paint, so we can show ourselves as we are when we worship Him. I was told to cover any bare skin. It may begin to fade or run if the worship is particularly strong but the container replenishes itself. Or so Sleep said, anyway."
"You're wearing just that?" II asks, III walking over to see what's going on.
Both of them stare, unashamed, at the pale expanse of Vessel's skin in full view. The hickies they left on him are stark against his human skin.
"Is it too little? I- I quite like it this way..." Vessel says, embarrassed and feeling like maybe he should put a shirt on.
"N-no! You look great! I was just surprised since you usually never forgo a shirt." II blurts out, wide eyed and unable to tear them away from Vessel, bare chested before him.
"Why have we been gifted such a view? If we had more time and some privacy..." III muses, eyeing Vessel up and down.
The cloak looks good on him, III decides, taking in the skinny jeans, bare feet and chest. III had never seen this mask on Vessel before, only half of his face covered with misshapen eye holes. Only two, which means it was Vessel's mask before he'd gotten his extra sets of eyes.
"Calm down, we've got a show to do." II rolls his eyes, gaze flitting back to the hickies on Vessel's stomach and peeking over the waistband of his jeans.
"Sleep requested it of me." Vessel says, shy, taking in the others' outfits.
II and III are both adorned with cloak-like shirts. II has a pair of track pants on, while III has on a pair on pinstriped black pants. They are both wearing their masks.
"Remind me to thank Sleep when we return." III says, without an ounce of shame.
"You all really did a number on each other." Nick says, entering their small curtained off area.
Vessel catches the look of disgust he'd shot at them, but it escapes II and III's notice since they aren't facing him.
Vessel had noticed, and grows quiet. II and III assume the attention is making Vessel more shy, and doesn't question it. III kisses his cheek before going back to his spot to continue getting ready. II does the same, having been on the call since Sam left them. Nick stays nearby, playing around on his phone, already dressed in his stage outfit with his mask in hand.
He feels eyes on him while he applies the paint over his jaw and up almost to the bridge of his nose, then down his neck and chest and over the visible skin of his arms and feet. It makes his skin crawl, knowing who is watching. The eyes follow him, now and then, when Vessel hands the paint over to II to use.
With his mask on, Vessel feels safer, like something within him has clicked into place. It's a familiar feeling, his mask bringing him comfort. Vessel wonders if it's the same for II and III.
Finding himself alone some time later, Vessel wanders aimlessly around backstage, trying not to be too bothered that II and III are busy making sure everything is in order for their respective instruments and their stage setup, Sam helping II figure out their lighting. He picks at the bandages wrapped around his arms, mostly healed scabbing beginning to itch. The other bands have greeted him kindly in passing, curious eyes following him around in his unusual attire, the attention grating on Vessel's already frayed nerves.
There is a presence, here, not quite like Sleep. Vessel has been unknowingly following it, he realizes, when it becomes so strong it nearly overshadows his anxiety. Set up right outside a bus, a tent is where Vessel is lead to, open curtained and made out of expensive material. It would strike Vessel as odd, if he were more aware.
Sleep is agitated, the whispers in the back of his mind almost deafening. He still cannot hope to decipher them.
Some sort of skull paint is the first thing Vessel takes note of, then the man's short stature. He is given no time to observe further when a man is stepping between the two of them. He is large, towering over Vessel, the dull silver of his mask doing little to muffle the growl emanating from deep within his chest. A thick tail, long and deep purple, with a spaded tip flickering with sparks of purple magic is wrapped tightly around one meaty thigh. Horns, pale lavender with speckles of differing shades of purple, easily as thick as Vessel's wrist, jut out from the top of their head through hair the color of a plum, spiraling up a few inches.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-" Vessel begins, already trying to backtrack out of the tent.
What kind of a fool was he to step into a tent that very clearly belonged to someone important? His anxiety would usually keep him well away from a situation like this. What is wrong with him? Why can he not see reason beyond the pull of this magic he is feeling?
"Omega. At ease."
Coming to the man's side (is it even a man at all?) is the short person who is emanating a tightly controlled power, something coiled into him like a snake always ready to strike. One eye is white, the other a forest green.
"It is rare to see another God's servant at a place like this. At least, one who is truly following a God. I was wondering if you would seek me out, our kind usually tries to keep up good relations."
Vessel tilts his head, taking a step back to give himself some space. His arms come to wrap around himself, hunching over as the man's power seems to clog his throat, swirling around in his lungs.
"Oh, my apologies. You're not just a servant, you're a vessel. If I'd have realized sooner, I would never have gotten so close to you with the leash on my magic so loose. I've read you sort are more sensitive to magic."
This was his magic not completely under control?
Vessel takes in a deep, unneeded breath when the cloying stench of sulfur seems to fade. "Thank you." He manages to utter, "How did you know what I was?"
"My white eye, a gift to my line from our Lord Lucifer himself. I am Papa Emeritus the Third, Terzo, at your service...?" He prompts, smirk kind as he slicks his dark black hair into place with a gloved hand.
"Vessel. First Vessel of Sleep." Vessel replies, trying to exude even an ounce of the confidence this Terzo seems to have in his pinky finger alone.
"The pleasure of meeting you is all mine, Vessel. Come, sit, you look as if you're going to be blown away by a strong breeze. Do not hunch into yourself, you're a vessel of a God. Stand tall, be proud of what you are. A vessel for such a powerful being is no easy feat."
"My apologies-" Vessel says, gingerly seating himself on the chair offered.
It's fancy, with plush backing that Vessel leans into gratefully while still trying not to take up too much space.
"There is no need for that, Vessel of Sleep. You will learn. Time has not been kind to you... so much death lingers in your soul, fresh and old alike."
Eyes wide and panicked, Vessel's mouth twists into a grimace.
"You can tell that I-?" He starts, trying to keep his bond calm, smoothing it over with images of the moments he has felt peace.
"Yes. You have died many a time. Before and After your change, your soul bears many marks of death from each."
"What-?" He murmurs, confused, struggling to wrap his mind around what this new information could mean.
Vessel moves to stands, desperate for answers. A loud growl stops him in his tracks, human eyes trying to assess the situation as his six eyes would be able to easily. The man has stepped forward too, right in front of Vessel so he can block Terzo from view.
Vessel mutters another meek apology, trying to straighten out his back as he sits back down properly. Head still bowed, he chances a glance at the horned man.
"My dear Omega here is a ghoul, quintessance in nature. A spawn from Hell itself. He will do you no harm." Terzo assures, placing a gentle hand on Omega's forearm, his growling quieter now but still present. "It is alright, calm down. Vessel means no harm. I'm sad to say it appears to be nearly time for your set, though. You must be on your way."
For the first time, Vessel checks his phone. Terzo is right, he has maybe thirty minutes until it's showtime. Feeling like a fool for having just sat down, Vessel stands again, very slowly offering up his hand to shake.
Omega takes it, watching him with serious eyes. His grip is gentle, though, as he shakes Vessel's hand. Claws longer and thicker than Vessel's are held carefully away, more animalistic than his own. They're painted a glittery purple, and when Vessel takes Terzo's hand next, he finds they're painted the same color.
Straying eyes glance nervously around, catching on the windows of Terzo's bus as Vessel leaves the tent. There are eyes already watching him, each pair glowing different shades. Blues, greens, reds, purples, whites, all pairs inlaid on heads adorned with horns, staring at Vessel through dull grey demon masks. More ghouls, he realizes, all watching him. Hurriedly, Vessel turns away, heading back in the direction of the stage they're supposed to play. Sleep nips at his heels possessively, shadows gathering at his feet.
So lost in his head and anxiety making him nauseous, Vessel doesn't notice Nick walking up to him with a particular glint in his eyes. Had he been following him? Vessel banishes the ridiculous thought.
"Hey Vessel, I was curious about something. Do you have a moment?" Nick smiles, and Vessel thinks he would be handsome if everything about him didn't rub him the wrong way.
After spending so much time together, Vessel feels terrible for the thought. Nick has never been truly unkind, only blunt, or perhaps filterless in what he says. Vessel... he has never given Nick a chance. Maybe it's time? They are in a band together, after all, while Sleep decides on a Fourth.
"The guitar in When The Branch Breaks-"
"It's, um, Bough. When The Bough Breaks." Vessel offers meekly, apologetic when Nick's gaze seems to sharpen.
He smiles with a little more teeth, "Sorry, the guitar in When the Bough Breaks? I was wondering if I could change a part when the breakdown hits so it sounds better?"
Hurt stings Vessel's chest as though his heart still resided within it. II and III brush along the bond in question, and Vessel sends back muted reassurance, squirelling away his hurt from their distracted attention.
Nick didn't like something Vessel wrote? Something he poured his soul into when his heart was no longer truly his to give? Music born of Vessel's anguish as a gift of devotion to his god?
Vessel frowns, unsure and near tears, "Ah, I don't think that's-"
Vessel shies away as Nick's smile falters, voice growing weaker even as Vessel tries to remain firm, "The songs are meant to be played as they've been written. Please, don't change anything."
"Damn. If you say so. I really think it would sound better if you'd let me tweak some things, but you are the frontman. What you say goes." Nick practically sneers, and Vessel wishes the earth would open up and swallow him.
Nick inches closer, getting all up in Vessel's space. He's staring intently, eyeing Vessel up and down with a look Vessel hasn't been subject to in... well, since Before Sleep. One arm comes to wrap around Vessel's shoulder, and he is thankful, suddenly, for the mesh over the eye holes of his mask that hides the discomfort in his wet eyes. He tries to control the creasing of his face with the emotion, but isn't sure he manages. Doesn't know why he even tries when so much of himself is hidden away under magic and mask.
Hunching down into himself as Nick applies more pressure, Vessel tries to shove away his discomfort. Nick is only being friendly. The fear creeping up his spine is unfounded, yet he cannot stop it.
There's a tugging on the bond from III's end again, questioning in nature, and relief fills Vessel. He tugs back, hoping it would lead III in his direction to save him from this conversation.
"Are you all in an open polycule relationship?" Nick asks, and Vessel startles.
He turns the mishappen eyes of his mask on him, confused, avoiding meeting his eyes out of instinct. The hand on his shoulder grips tighter, more and more as their conversation continues, and Vessel tries to squirm away.
Nails dig in, and Vessel stops. Nick's smile is back, a sharp edge to it, and Vessel forces his mind to focus on the question so he doesn't get lost in the predatory gleam of Nick's teeth.
An open polycule? Vessel... has no idea what that means.
He tries to think on it. Would the relationship be considered open if they were waiting for their Fourth to be chosen? Assuming the Fourth would be interested in a romantic relationship, that is.
Does the label 'polycule' apply to the vessels relationship?
"Yes?" Vessel responds, gaze flitting around desperately, catching on Sam who is making his way over in a rush.
Nick smiles, one side lifting up a little more then the other so it comes across as more of a smirk. "So, the others wouldn't mind then if-"
"Vessel! You're on soon, Two asked me to come find you both. Can you call Three and let him know you're heading back? He looked pretty worried." Sam says, jogging up to them.
"I'll do that, thanks." Vessel replies, no more than a whisper, but makes sure his next words are louder, "Three uses he/they pronouns."
Vessel digs his phone out of his pocket, thankful for the disruption. Being alone with Nick had made him nervous, mounting stress added on to an already egregious pile of anxiety.
Nick let's him go, and Vessel steps away quickly.
"Oh, shit, my bad. They didn't tell me." Sam eyes the both of them, intelligent gaze scanning over Vessel's hunched posture, and the happy smile on Nick's face.
"Everything alright?" He asks, as Vessel starts to call III.
They pick up right away, asking where he is, and Vessel smiles, relieved to hear their voice.
"Got a little lost, I'm sorry. I'm heading back towards the dressing room area now."
As he walks away, Vessel doesn't miss how Nick grins at Sam, exuding friendliness, "All good here, mate, Vessel and I were just chatting about one of his songs."
Vessel is left more weary of Nick than before, and struggling with the different image he presents when it's just the two of them compared to when they're around other people.
III is speed walking towards him when Vessel looks up from the ground, feeling the tether connecting their souls grow tighter with the distance between them closing.
"Ves!" III exclaims, gentle hands on his shoulders pulling Vessel close while leaving space between them.
It's as close to a hug as Vessel will allow, and III would never complain about Vessel's few self-imposed boundaries. Vessel tactfully hides his wince of pain. He hadn't realized Nick had been holding his shoulder tightly enough for there to still be a lingering soreness.
III nuzzles the side of Vessel's head, avoiding his mask. The kiss he places on Vessel's head is muted with his cloaks hood being in the way alongside III's own mask, but he doesn't mind, not with III so close.
"You don't usually wander off. When II and I noticed you'd disappeared, we got worried. Remember, Sugar, we're supposed to protect you while we're away from home."
Vessel frowns, sincerely apologetic, "I didn't want to be in the way. I was... talking with Nick when Sam came to us."
"Oh, I'm glad he was with you then. Even if he's not in the loop about our situation, at least you weren't alone. Come on, our set starts soon. Where is Nick, anyway?"
III's hand is warm in his as they lead him back in the direction of the stage. There's a slight sting in Vessel's shoulder where Nick's hand had been, but Vessel ignores it with ease. He fears it may bruise, though, fears having to lie to the others about how he got it.
"He should be following along soon. He was talking with Sam."
III is calmer than usual, Vessel notices, like they are reeling in their lively personality. It makes Vessel sad, that even after time has passed with II and himself, that III still tries to hide himself away when out in public. He wasn't like this in town, when they'd went shopping what feels like so long ago. Then again, III had grown up there even if the only thing left he could remember in clarity was the bad things.
"You- You do not need to keep parts of yourself locked away, Three." Vessel mutters, squeezing III's hand.
It causes III to pause, turning to Vessel. Only the beautiful sky blue of his eyes are visible, a little wide in surprise, "You... noticed?"
"Of course I noticed." Vessel responds, saddened by the way III's voice breaks with their words.
"I grew up wanting attention. I craved it, desperately. I wanted to be looked at, to be seen and heard. I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere. But... when I was there, in that big building filled with so many other kids... I learned it was best to be quiet and obedient. The families always wanted well behaved kids... I kept my true self locked in a box until I left the adoption home."
III's admission only saddens Vessel further, not realizing III had been keeping something like this from them. Vessel had always assumed III's brief mention of his time at an adoption home was brushed over because it wasn't bad, but...
"Do not hide yourself from II and I. You do not need to. We- We love you as you are." Vessel does not miss the way III's eyes widen at his own use of the 'L' word without prompting, even if it was a little indirect.
Tears are threatening to spill over III's eyes when they choke out a response, "I know. I knew from the moment I saw you both in that bookshop I worked at and you were so kind, accepted me as I was... I knew I was meant for you both, and you for me. I... I knew I'd finally found what I had been searching for all my life."
"I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. Not ever. Not even if I had the chance to- To have been adopted by a family. Even if someone had wanted me. None of that matters now that I have this life, with you, Two, and Sleep."
"I feel the same way." Vessel says, leaning forward to press his masked forehead to III's.
Gentle hands reach up, daring to wipe away III's unshed tears, selfishly taking enjoyment from the way III leans into the touch without a second thought.
"Even after all you went through?"
"I would suffer through my life Before a million times over if it meant I could still be with you both After."
Vessel means it. Every attempt on his own life, every bruise and scratch, every harsh word. The loneliness as a child, the desperation to be looked at, to be seen, heard. To be listened to, believed...
Believed...?
Vessel pulls away from III slightly, confused at the sudden thought. What... did Vessel tell his parents that they never believed? He can't remember. Why can't he remember?
"Sugar?" III asks, concerned.
"I'm fine." Vessel decides, "Just... I remember less than I thought I did."
"Oh, well... We should probably get to side stage." III smiles, sensing that Vessel doesn't want to think on it any further.
Moving on so easily is met with gratitude, Vessel very gently pressing his mask to III's forehead for just a second, pulling away again.
"I'm nervous, Three. What if I can't sing?" His voice is a murmur, as weak and shaky as he has felt since they'd left the manor.
He doesn't know if it's his anxiety or being so far away from his heart.
"You'll do fine! This will be different to practice, I know, but Sleep will be more involved. And if you need to, you can spend as long as you want after our set as quiet as you need."
"You won't be mad?"
"Of course not!" III says, knocking his forehead against Vessel's playfully.
"Alright. Let's go." Vessel manages, still anxiety riddled but more ready to face this.
II meets them at the side of the stage, nervously tapping his drumsticks on his thighs before he notices their duo walking up. "Ves!" II launches himself at Vessel, making an aborted move to hug him.
Vessel wishes he could allow it.
"I'm fine, Two." Vessel says, reaching forward and gently holding II's wrists.
"I see that, but I was worried. I'm glad you're okay. Show starts soon. Only have about ten minutes til we go on." II frets, his stress over all of this clear.
They all huddle around each other, getting their in-ears put in and their instruments, if they have them, checked out one last time. Nick appears two minutes before they start, II immediately berating him for not showing up sooner. Nick says he got lost, slinging his guitar over his shoulders.
Vessel feels it is a lie.
In that split second before they step onto the festival stage, a vision is gifted. Before each of the three vessels of Sleep is a small venue packed full to the brim with people. Vessel is mid dance, a wild mess of steps that move to the beat of II's drumming as III spins and twirls beside him.
A blurred out fourth man sways to the music on Vessel's left, not an inch of them in any sort of clarity. There's a fear in the back of Vessel's mind that it is Nick, but the features are so unfocused that he couldn't possibly tell.
That first step onto the stage is one of the most daunting things Vessel has ever done. Every one after feels like a leaden weight is attached to his ankles as his anxiety runs wild. II and III are steady presences with him, moving to their places.
Vessel bites his lip when Nick's hand glances over his lower back as he passes, gaze averting down to the floor as he makes his way to the microphone stand in the middle of the stage.
The mesh over his eyes is thick, just barely managing to hide the crimson glow of Vessel's eyes that not even Sleep's magic could properly camouflage. Not when Vessel was in front of a crowd, the music he and II have written the only sound soon to be heard in the small tent. Not when he could feel Sleep lingering at the edge of his awareness, waiting for Vessel's ritual to begin.
Can the crowd see through the glamor? Do they know something not quite human stands before them?
Do they know that he doesn't belong on this stage?
In the crowd, Terzo Emeritus stands, Omega at his side. Vessel's straightens up a little bit, feeling as though he should try a little harder to act as important as his title suggests. Even if he doesn't feel worthy of it.
As the first notes of Thread the Needle begin, Vessel is aware of everything. The multitude of eyes on him, the tightness of his bandages, and the stiffness in his limbs as he struggles to calm his racing mind. Then, Sleep's magic is filling him up, shoving his humanity to the side as he becomes his God, or does his God become him? So much power, too much, is flowing through his veins and Vessel cannot grasp it. It's like trying to use a log to stop the flow of a raging river. He cannot hope to control it, the feeling nothing like when he had manifested his God's own gaping maw on his chest. He had been used, then, but it felt less invasive than this, as Sleep readied to gather the energy from the vessels subsequent worship.
His chest aches, ribcage expanding and contracting with every heavy breath, bruising under the power of his God taking up space where his heart should be.
He hurts, but does not have time to think on it, as Vessel opens his mouth and begins to sing. His voice is his own, but there is... something- Sleep wrapped around his vocal chords.
Vessel feels caught, tangled up in his God's magic as he tries to find the thin crack of where his God begins and he ends. The sudden noise of Sleep's voices are a thunderclap in his head, and Vessel stumbles with the onslaught.
III makes an aborted movement to catch him, giving Vessel space when a hand is held up, not by his own will but by Sleep's. He sings, and he does not falter, not even as he continues to stumble, as he cries. His tears drip down his face with sweat, something Vessel didn't even know he could do anymore, as his form strains under the magic burrowing it's way into every vein, encasing his muscles with electricity that keeps him standing. Even his bone marrow is replaced with every bit of Sleep that the God can fit within him, a content sound almost like a purr booming through his head as Vessel's dear God takes in the enraptured energy of the crowd before them.
Vessel can feel them, feel the echo of their souls as his own resonates with them. Their pain becomes his, and his becomes theirs.
Vessel is nothing more than his name suggests, a vessel for humanities endless sea of emotions while his God takes what He needs to survive, to grow stronger.
These people need something to project their pain onto, and Vessel needs some way to release his agonies. This mask protects them from Vessel, and Vessel from them. Some small part of him wonders if he is protecting them from Sleep, the mere notion banished before it can take form. Was it he who swiped it away or was it his God?
Either way, they do not know him. He does not know them.
But everyone knows pain.
Tears slip down his cheeks, crystal clear as they drip off his jaw. Tears of pain, of agony.
Of longing. Heartbreak. Love. Devotion.
The crowd grows, bit by bit, as more and more people enter the tent to listen. Then, they stay to worship. They do not know who they are worshipping, not even that they are partaking in a ritual at all, but Sleep feeds off their presences anyway, because they are listening to the messages being spread by His First, by His Second and Third. Listening, feeling, resonating with the vessels and their God.
With every newcomer, more of Sleep slips in to Vessel's body, filling in any available space, rearranging his insides as the God sees fit so He will have room to rest. He stammers over a line, voice weak with pain as he cries, a rib shifting in his chest. It does not break, but it is a close thing. Sleep coo's unintelligibly, another rib shifting out of place. He whimpers into the mic, muted concern ebbing down the bond.
Agony is a constant as Vessel sings, his bond with the others muted and dull under the weight of Sleep in his body. Fields of Elation passes by in a blur, Vessel's stiff body having barely moved from the center of the stage. Even with Sleep inhabiting his body, fear keeps him still as the dead, the only sign he is alive being the movement of his mouth and the way his torso bends forward to sing certain notes, arms held out in front of him, raising up on occasion as though evoking a prayer to his God.
Everything is going smoothly, Vessel growing more and more used to the pain of sharing his suit of flesh with Sleep when a guitar chord rings out unnaturally.
His head snaps to the side, the burning crimson of his eyes locked on Nick. His fingers falter over the keys of his electric keyboard, limbs seizing as he struggles to keep upright. Raging fire burns hotly through his system, a pained hiss just barely buzzing through the microphone.
Those were not the chords he'd written.
The vessels muted bond, buried under Sleep's overwhelming presence, snaps into focus for all three vessels. Agony tears through them, Vessel's own pain seeming to double as the ritual is disrupted.
As one, II, III and Vessel miss their parts, undergoing extreme pressure in their heads as Sleep rages, whispers becoming screams as His voices become all they can hear. It is all Vessel can do in that moment to keep Sleep from making Nick a smear against the stage floor.
A chanting plea of 'it's not his fault. It was a mistake.' resounds through his head, desperate for his lie to be believed.
Each note that differs from what he'd written seems to thrum down Vessel's spine, fingers twitching with each one so badly that he almost misses his own keys more than once.
Nick goes on to play the proper chords once his stint of rebellion is through, not realizing how close he has stumbled to death's door, and Sleep eases up as the ritual begins again.
Vessel moves back to the front of the small stage, a mere puppet for Sleep's will while he tries to find a balance between the two of them in his own body.
III reaches out, a hand taking his own while Vessel sings. Vessel moves further towards them- No. Why is Sleep pulling away? Vessel craves the touch as though it's water and he is dying of thirst, and yet Sleep seems opposed to it, shivers crawling up Vessel's spine.
The look of confusion in III's eyes breaks Vessel's heart-
His... his heart?
His heart is beating. It's pounding in his ears at the realization, warming his body up in a way he's not felt since Before.
Vessel wants to move closer, wants to wrap himself around III, who is so close on this tiny stage. They would be warm, Vessel knows, pressed right up against his own body. Vessel wants that. Wants to struggle to tell where III begins and Vessel ends. He yearns to he held.
He yearns. He yearns. He yearns-
Before Vessel knows it, their short set is over. His body moves, some control given back to him as Sleep eases up some more, content, and Vessel kneels in the middle of the small stage. His hands clasping together tightly, as he bows at the waist, thanking the crowd.
There are whistles and cheers, leaving a sense of awe within him. They enjoyed his music? Vessel stands, and makes his way to the side of the stage. His adrenaline starts crashing as soon as they step off stage, stumbling into III with no warning. "Woah, Ves! Are you okay?"
He cries more tears streaking down his cheeks. Sleep is leaving him, a vaccuum has opened up behind his ribs, magic being sucked in. He is left feeling as though he was wrung out, not an ounce of energy left within him.
His heartbeat fades, and a hand comes to frantically feel over his chest. The touch hurts, but he doesn't care, not when his heart is once more no longer with him. Vessel forces himself away from III, but they don't let him go far.
"'M fine. Tired." Even answering so tersely sends stinging slices of hurt through his empty chest.
He wants to sob. Vessel only wanted to be held, and he can't- he can't be. He can't be. Sleep took his heart with Him, and Vessel is empty-
III keeps one arm wrapped around Vessel's shoulder as II frets, following alongside them. Nick follows too, and Vessel wishes the other man would leave them be for just a moment.
Vessel is thankful their set was so short. It was a miracle they'd been given the opportunity at all, when they have yet to actually release any songs, even if that would be changing very soon with the release of their first EP within the next few days.
Sam meets them at their small dressing room area, a concerned furrow to his brow that surprises the vessels. "What happened out there? Everything seemed to be going fine, wonderfully even, until your guitarist seemed to fuck up."
II responds, keeping his voice level even as he longs to push Sam aside to get Vessel into some semblance of a private space, "Four made a mistake is all. Messed all of us up. We might not have practiced enough."
Sam turns skeptical eyes on Nick, then slides them to III who is now practically lugging Vessel along, "Alright then. Make sure your singer gets some rest. It looks like he needs it. If you need anything, and I do mean anything, call me, and I'll see what I can do. You put on a great show, considering this is your first."
As soon as Sam is gone, II and III are setting Vessel down on a nearby lawn chair. He goes down heavily, legs giving out from under him.
Nick is watching him, glaring fiercely as though his eyes alone could set Vessel ablaze, foot tapping rapidly in irritation. Vessel is glad II and III have formed some mimicry of a barrier between them.
"Ves, what's happened? What hurts?" II questions, kneeling in front of him.
III lingers beside the chair, unsure what to do with their hands.
"Chest hurts. Ribs."
"Can you take off your cloak, sweetheart? I'd like to see if I can spot anything wrong. Is this from-"
The curtain is shoved to the side unceremoniously, Terzo entering as if he owned this small sectioned off area.
"Who the fuck are you?" II spits, moving to stand.
"Holy shit." III exclaims at the same time, eyes wide in shock and awe. "You're- Holy shit."
"It's okay Two." Vessel chokes out, thankful that Terzo's magic is well under the other man's control.
Terzo glances around at the three vessels, then to Nick, who is trying and failing to hide his irritation. His white eye is very faintly glowing, something that could easily be considered a trick of the light.
"Alpha, show this young man to the refreshment tent, will you? He's looking a little pale."
Terzo's command cuts through the air, a ghoul entering through the curtain with no hesitation. Nick is physically manhandled out of the area, protests falling on deaf ears as kind but dry greetings are made by the ghoul with a slightly slighter build than Omega from earlier.
"There are three of you. How unusual. God's do not usually pick more than one mouthpiece, one vessel. Explain to me what happened out there, Vessel, if you would."
II readies himself to refuse on Vessel's behalf, but to his surprise, Vessel begins to speak. The words are quiet, stilted and pained, but he manages.
"Sleep filled my chest with his presence, like he and I had become one but I was more Him than me. It hurt, and my ribs burned like something too small for my body had fitted itself inside." Vessel explains, just as quiet, ashamed he couldn't handle his God's presence in his body better.
He was the First, he was supposed to be better than this. He could manifest his God on the outside of his body just fine, why was this any different?
"Was worse when Nick messed up. Thought Sleep was going to tear me apart for the disrespect." Vessel admits, glancing up at Terzo.
"I'm impressed you are still awake and talking, especially since this seems to be your first proper ritual. I'd assume you'd be out of commission for a few days. While I call on my God's power, you become it, share in the magic as the one soulbonded in the way you are. Regardless, it was not you your God would have torn apart." Terzo comments knowingly, watching Vessel closely.
He averts his gaze to the floor, desperate to avoid this entire thing. Does Terzo know he is covering for Nick? Does he know that Vessel's heart-
"That guitarist of yours, he is not one of you, yes?"
"Nick isn't one of us, no. Sleep has yet to choose a Fourth. Why are you asking?" II speaks up, barely sparing Terzo more than a glance, far too focused on making sure Vessel is alright.
"I see. Give me one moment, I need to call my brother. He's more knowledgeable on this sort of thing than I." Terzo pulls out his phone, and while it rings, there's an awkward silence.
Vessel shakes, pained huffs falling from parted lips while he tries to muffle just how terribly he aches through the bond. II holds his hand, trying to soothe with gentle circles into his palm, "How do I help you, sweetheart?"
"Can't. You can't." Vessel gasps out, letting a few tears slip free.
Clutching II's hand like a lifeline, Vessel leans over despite the pain and rests his head on II's shoulder.
His mask digs into his own face, and he knows it must not be comfortable for II either but he cannot bring himself to pull away.
Terzo talks quietly in Italian, and Vessel doesn't have the energy within him to be confused. What is being said that cannot be uttered in a language everyone here can speak?
"Keep your guitarist from making mistakes in the future, if you can. He is not a vessel for your God, so his mistakes damage all of you, as you likely felt. He is not properly partaking in your rituals, and so is the biggest cause and concern for errors. Mistakes at your own hands can be overlooked and spun in ways that will not hurt the energy you and your God are receiving." Terzo says, hanging up the call.
"Who are you?" II asks again, more curious now than defensive.
"I am Terzo, your First met me earlier today. I'm the mouthpiece, so to speak, for Lucifer, and the Third Papa of the Clergy of Satan. I don't particularly care for the job though, aside from the musical aspect. I am the current singer for the Ghost project."
"Now," Terzo lightly claps his hands, though Vessel still flinches back harshly, "Omega, my dear, come check on Vessel here for any injuries. His magic is still struggling to settle."
Omega enters through the curtain next, taller than III, with a large frame. Momentarily, III's intimidating figure seems cowed under the weight of Omega's presence, before steel is lined along III's spine once more.
"While I know who you are, do not dare hurt him." III states firmly, moving past their starstruck state.
No matter how much III loves Ghost, he could easily snip that love in the bud should they prove to be a danger to his partners.
"Move aside." Omega orders, and now it is II's turn to bristle, squinting hesitantly up at the ghoul.
II blinks, trying to focus on the man before him, "No-"
"Two, it's okay." Vessel murmurs, slouching into himself a little further as he lifts his head from II's shoulder.
His little breaths are harsher now, uneven and deep.
"Rest assured, little vessel, no harm will come to him at my hands." Omega reassures, voice soothing and layered with a bit of his quintessance.
II bristles at being called little, a confusing mix of assured and annoyed. He scoots aside reluctantly, both he and III remaining on either side of the chair Vessel sits in.
Omega kneels at Vessel's feet, "I'm going to feel along your ribs to check for any breaks. I will not touch you more than necessary, your cloak may remain on."
The first careful touch of a clawed finger over where Vessel's heart should be has Vessel shooting back into his seat, scrambling to move away.
III is immediately trying to put themselves between Omega and Vessel, a snarl pulling at his lips under their mask. II has kneeled back down, too, soothingly gripping at Vessel's hand with one of his own, the other petting along Vessel's bandaged forearm unsurely.
Long spider limbs form as III grows a few inches taller, both his legs and arms spindly as one hand is held dangerously close to Omega's face, claws pointed at the ghoul's eyes in a clear threat.
Omega pauses, head tilting as he regards III with heavy consideration.
"Do not harm my ghoul-" Terzo starts, a thunderous expression on his face as the smell of sulfur grows strong and overpowering.
Vessel whimpers, his own magic reacting to Terzo's uncomfortably.
"I will only touch him as necessary." Omega reassures again, and let's his head fall forward from its tilt back as III lowers their arm.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Vessel forces his body to still, forces his muscles to relax. III moves aside, but his sneer remains, softening into something almost akin to a frown. Omega takes this as his que to continue while III gets their spider limbs under control.
The scent of sulfur fades, and Vessel breathes in and out, trying to mimic human breathing. At the same time, he is loudly begging Sleep in his mind to keep this ghoul unaware of his lack of heartbeat. It is a constant mantra through every gentle touch, every soft apology, as Vessel tries to shove down the ache in his body. He cannot be so pathetic. He needs to get used to this. This is not the first and only time Sleep will be using him this way. He feels... disconnected from himself, as Omega talks lowly, making sure Vessel knows what he's doing at all times. Usually, such a gentle voice would help ground him into his own body, but this is a stranger, and he is so tired... Vessel feels his mind slipping away, vision unfocusing with every passing moment.
"Vessel?" II asks, alarmed, as the bond grows distant with every spark of purple magic glancing across Vessel's skin. "What the fuck are you you doing to him?!"
"It is only my magic feeling around inside him for damage, I swear I am not hurting him. He will be fine, though. Make sure he rests, once his disassociation ends." Omega states, stepping away, "I have sped up the healing process on his physical wounds. Most were nearly healed, but the one on his shoulder is new enough that no real difference will show. It should be gone within a couple of days."
II and III share a confused glance. Vessel had gotten hurt? He was... disassociating?
"Thank you, Omega dear. Now, one of you, give me Vessel's phone. I'd imagine he will have questions, and I will be happy to answer what I can." Terzo says, swiping Vessel's phone from III, who offers it up reluctantly.
Vessel's phone pings with a text when Terzo hands it back to III. It is pocketed without a glance at the message sent, and Vessel will be grateful for III to have mentioned that when he returns to his body.
"It is time I leave. Our own set is nearing, but I'm glad I made time to come here. Watch your First closely, disassociation is a very vulnerable state for a god's vessel to fall into when so far from their God's resting place." Terzo calls Omega back to his side, and the ghoul goes without question, standing close.
Nearly hip to hip, even. II spares them no further attention, uncaring as they make their exit. III see's them off at the curtain, a little subdued in his pleasantries. Nick comes back in a few minutes later, irritation still present on his face. III looks up at him with a tired smile, phone opened to a page on how to help someone who is disassociating.
"You've got to stop being so sensitive to everything, man. You're an adult, act like one." Fore spits at Vessel, frustration coloring his tone like an oil spill.
Vessel starts slipping away again at the words, and II and III can feel it, feel him floating away from them.
II turns around and snaps, "No, you need to stop being insensitive! You don't know what the fuck he's been through. Gain some emotional maturity or shut the fuck up."
Fore looks surprised at II's words, a nervous smile beginning to pull at his cheeks. His hands raise up in a show of peace, "Hey, I'm sorry. I went too far. Today's been nerve-wracking. Not to mention that dude dragging me off without warning."
"Don't apologize to us, apologize to Vessel when he comes back from this." III's voice is cold, and it pisses Fore off.
He keeps it well under wraps, but he cannot stop the tremble in his hands, curling them into fists at his sides. Why do they protect that pathetic excuse for a man? What do they see in him that makes all of his failures as a human being so easy to overlook?
"What was that earlier, by the way?" III's voice is just as icy, though some inquiring warmth peeks through. "You fucked up one part of When The Bough Breaks."
III intentionally leaves out how the mistake had left all three of them reeling, struggling to play or sing their parts through the agony and Sleep's rage.
"I messed up. The crowd really had me anxious. I am so sorry, I really didn't mean to."
If Vessel were present enough to speak, if he could bring himself back down to Earth just enough to open his mouth and respond, he would tell the others how Nick was lying through his teeth.
Or would he? Would he have the courage to speak so boldly?
"Try not to do it again. All of us do our damn best not to make mistakes. That's what all the practice was for. This music is important to us." III responds, turning back to their phone to continue searching up ways to help Vessel.
"I'm going to go start packing things up." Nick comments, annoyed when he is barely given any attention.
"I'll be there in a few minutes to help." II remarks, scrounging up some attempt at a friendly look.
Nick stalks out, smile tight on his lips, fists clenching at his sides.
"It's a trauma response," III starts, trying to keep their voice quiet while II tenderly removes Vessel's mask, "Like when he goes non-verbal. We should try grounding him. The website says putting something in his hands and trying to get him to describe it may help."
"Let's use his mask, since it's on hand." II says, carefully placing the mask into Vessel's hands once he manages to pull them apart from their half-fisted state.
"Vessel, sweetheart, can you describe to me what's in your hands?" II asks, soft eyes shiny with worry.
For a few long, silent moments, Vessel does not answer. III tries not to tap his foot, fiddling instead with his own mask that he has torn off.
Then, quietly, no more than a gentle whisper, "Solid. Smooth."
Fingers trace over the red lines along the mask, "An 's', a 't.' For our band name."
Vessel's bond comes more into focus, his mind losing some of the fog that settled over it. Tentatively, a hand comes to rest over II's, holding onto Vessel's forearm.
"I'm sorry." Vessel meekly murmurs, voice hoarse and thick with tears.
He still doesn't feel all here, but he knows without a doubt that II and III haven't left him. He leans over, one hand holding his mask on his lap and the other leaving II's to wrap around the man himself. It's not quite a hug, but it will have to be considered one.
II presses a kiss to Vessel's forehead as III's own forehead presses right above where Vessel's shoulder blades meet as they hold him.
"It's not your fault, Ves. You're okay. You're disassociating, and it's not your fault."
Vessel has never had anyone... help him through the episodes, never had a name for the way his mind floats out of his body.
He holds on to II tighter, face pressing into the other man's shoulder. Tears wet the fabric of II's shirt, harsh, wheezing breaths leaving Vessel's parted lips. II let's him cry, never growing annoyed with him for not being able to control or hide his emotions better.
Safe in his lovers arms, Vessel feels his mind return, slowly. They do not rush him, do not berate him for taking too much time getting his head in order.
They do not hit him when it takes a little longer to formulate responses to their gentle questions.
When Vessel is calmer and fully back to his usual self, none of them have pulled away from the others, content to stay close. II takes the chance to bring up something he had been planning for the last few days.
"I was going to take you and Three on a date to the aquarium nearby, but if you're not feeling up to it, Ves, that's perfectly understandable."
Vessel's tired form seems to perk up, blue eyes lighting up as he peeks up at II, "An aquarium? We're going to an aquarium?"
"I have plans to go tomorrow, sweetheart, but- Are you feeling well enough to go?"
"I'll be fine if I can manage to sleep a little bit." Vessel promises, eager to not let this chance slip by him.
"Alright, alright, we'll still go. But if I think you're too tired or out of it tomorrow, we can reschedule for a different day." II agrees, grinning when III looks happier too, like their dream from last night has finally left them.
"Aren't aquariums expensive?" III inquires suddenly, clearly having forgotten the credit card in II's wallet.
"Sleep gave us a credit card, remember?" II responds dryly.
"Oh. Yeah. So, uh, does that make Sleep our sugar daddy?"
"Three!" II gasps, affronted, though the amused smirk on his face is telling enough of what he really thinks of that statement.
"You're not denying it so I'm right." III sticks up their nose primly.
Vessel giggles once, twice, before it turns into quiet laughter. "What even is a sugar daddy?"
"Sleep." III responds, entirely serious.
They let loose a laugh when II flicks the side of their head, moaning jokingly about how cruel II was to them.
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Reassured that III has Vessel, and finally finished packing everything up, II tries to find a moment to himself. Trembling hands clutch the fabric of his jeans, trying to even out the quickening pace of their breathing. Footsteps reach II's ears, and he looks up through eyes blurring with tears.
"Hey, Two, I just wanted to say I really am so- Shit, dude, are you okay?" It's Nick, walking up to II and looking genuinely apologetic, though it shifts quickly into surprised concern at the sight of II's downtrodden expression.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed by the day we've had. Was there something you needed?" II turns icy blue eyes on Nick, forcing their gazes to meet and hold.
"I just wanted to apologize again. I guess the stress of the day got to me, and I said some things I didn't mean."
"Well, I appreciate the second apology, though it wasn't needed. Vessel's the one you should say sorry to." II releases his hands from his jeans, unnecessarily patting the fabric of dust.
"I'll do that before we head out, I swear. Did- Do you want a smoke? You seem pretty shaken up and a cigarette helps my nerves." Nick offers with an easy grin, holding out an open pack of cigarettes with the butt end of a stick already half out of the carton.
A lighter is flicked open and closed with a click in his other hand, and II oddly feels the urge to agree. He faintly remembers he used to smoke, Before. It was a bad habit that died with him and the addiction cleansed from his system upon his rebirth. II never even thought of picking it up again, never even spared the deathsticks a passing thought.
Now, he is tempted.
Trembling fingers reach out and take one of the cigarettes, and then the lighter offered up after.
Nick's grin grows impossibly wider as II cups a hand around the flame to keep it safe from a potential breeze, lighting the cigarette with a long forgotten, yet still practiced, ease. A pleased hum is exhaled around a waft of smoke as Nick watches II like a cat who has caught a mouse.
"So, are you and the others in an open relationship? You're a polycule, right?" Nick asks, once II has taken a long, long drag and is letting it out.
II turns the hard ice of his eyes on Nick, searching, suspicious, before it slides away like snow off a slope.
"No. We're not open. If someone else comes along that we want to add, we'll speak on it." II takes another drag, passing the lighter back to Nick, moving to correct him, "But we're in a polyamorous relationship. All dating each other. We're not a polycule."
Nick's smile gets impossibly wider, suspicions confirmed. So Vessel has no fucking clue what they are. Too much of a little wimp to clarify either, huh? Poor fool probably knows it's only a matter of time until these guys leave him in the dust for someone better.
"Oh, I see. Didn't realize I had the wrong terms."
"It's alright. Most don't care to learn them." II smiles, calmer now, bringing his phone out when he receives a text alert.
One side of his lips quirk up into a genuine smile when he see's it's III, asking where he is. Shooting off a text saying that he and Nick had just finished packing up, II straightens up.
II snuffs out his cigarette under his heel, picking it up once he's sure all the embers are out. Tossing it in a nearby trashcan, he turns back to Nick, "Thanks for the smoke. I'm going to get the others if you don't mind meeting us at the car."
"Oh, it's no problem. Heading home?"
"No, to a hotel. We're staying another day. I've got a date planned for us tomorrow. You're welcome to hang around the hotel or go out and explore. We won't be leaving until late tomorrow. I hope that doesn't mess up any plans you had."
"Nah, it's fine." Nick reassures graciously, "I took a few days off work for this festival gig."
II nods, giving one last smile before he sets off to find the others.
Vessel's tired smile falters as II gets close enough for the other to smell him properly, some negative emotion rearing it's head that Vessel stomps out before II can catch it. He can't quite stop the instinctual wrinkle of his nose. III does not bother to hide the grimace as he pulls Vessel closer, "You smell like shit."
Guilt fills II up to the brim, "Sorry, Four offered me a smoke. Made me feel better at the time but- It's a habit I know should stay dead."
"It made you feel better?" Vessel asks, quiet and unable to meet II's eyes.
II frowns, his guilt growing, not liking how Vessel seems quite ready to accept his bad habit even if it clearly makes him uncomfortable, "Yeah, but I won't do it again. It was a one time thing, I swear."
"If it made you feel better-" Vessel starts, III cutting him off with a hurried apology, "I know we're no longer human but that shit isn't good for your lungs. It may not kill you as quickly, or at all since we're vessels now, but- I still think you should lay off it."
"I will. I'm sorry." II apologizes again, guilty. "I don't want to get into the habit again, I swear."
"Please try not to. I hate cigarettes." III mutters, reaching for II to pull him into a hug.
"We've been apart so much today, I fucking hate it. Reminds me of last time." III says into II's ears, voice lowered enough so it doesn't hurt II's ears.
"We can protect ourselves this time." II replies, letting some of his weight fall into III, knowing the other can and will gladly hold him up.
Vessel watches, a little uncertain of what to do, his whole face lighting up under his mask when II and III both offer their hands for him to hold while the other two hug. All three wish Vessel would join it, but know it's not to be.
"I love you both. We did well today." II murmurs, bringing Vessel's hand up to kiss his black painted knuckles.
"Well, of course I did well. I made damn sure I knew my parts well enough that I could add some flair to my moves." III simpers, grinning widely under his mask.
"Looked like a ballerina with the way you were spinning and kicking." Vessel mumbles, smiling, too.
"Why, thank you. I'm considering that a compliment of the highest degree. Vessel sang like a siren personified."
Vessel blushes, thankful for the mask that hides it, as he stumbles over his own gratitude.
"We'll have to be careful in the future, though. The only time I missed a beat was when Nick made a mistake and it hurt all of us." II says, a little condescending in tone.
"We'll ask him to come over for practice more." III promises, nudging Vessel's head with their own gently when a spark of distaste fizzles along the bond.
Sighing, II nods, pulling away. "Alright, enough idling about. We've got stuff to grab. Nick's waiting at the car."
A short while later, Sam stops the vessels as they're gathering the last of their stuff from the area he had curtained off for them. Few festival staff members are around, most of them too busy to pay them any mind as the festival itself continues.
"That whole gimmick you all have going on isn't just for show, is it? You really believe a God brought you all together." Sam states, and Vessel flounders for a response.
III starts laughing, turning away to try and hide it with a hand but their shoulders still noticeably shake.
II and Vessel share a glance, the taller of the two tilting his head just so the side in question. Sleep whispers unintelligibly somewhere nearby, and Vessel glances around, tired human eyes landing on the shadows behind Sam's feet. They flicker strangely, brief glimpses of eyeballs appearing now and then. Vessel finds his answer, then, deciding that if Sleep lingers so freely around Sam, then it must be alright to tell him. He turns his gaze back to II, who is watching him intently, and III who has managed to contain himself and is now glancing between the other two vessels and Sam.
Vessel nods, and II returns it, turning back to Sam with a steely expression, "Yes, it is all real. Sleep has made us all vessels for his power. It's our divine duty to bring him more worshippers, as His three vessels."
Sam looks between all of them, a little disbelieving.
"Show me."
"Three, drop some part of your glamor."
"Wh- Two, is that a good idea?" III flounders, eyebrows almost at their hairline.
II turns tired blue eyes to III, smirking as his gaze then goes back to Sam. "Who will believe him if he tells?"
Sighing in mock exasperation, III does as told. His glamor falls away to reveal black sclera and blue, blue eyes. Any bared skin is now revealed to be covered in pitch black ink, Sleep's markings on display over his arms and peeking over the waistband of their jeans.
"Holy shit."
Vessel watches as Sam's eyes go wide, a hint of excitement breaking through the disbelief. "That is so cool! You weren't kidding, and I was right. You've got to tell me more!"
It turns out that Sam lives in the same city as they do, just on the other end of it. They set up a day for him to come over to their house, assured that he had signed the magically reinforced NDA. The five of them part, Sam to continue with the festival clean up, and the others to their hotel.
The hotel II has booked for them is small and quaint, with two beds, a small bathroom, and a tiny fridge. A small TV sits on an end table across from the beds, between them, playing an old sitcom on a low volume. Readying themselves for bed is a quick affair as they shower one after another to get off the paint. While Nick is in the shower, the vessels take the time to speak quietly. II asks about Terzo and Omega, mentioning that he could catch glimpses of a different form hidden under strong magic. III replies that he could see through it just fine, with the barest hints of magic at the edges like a purple mirage was following the ghoul around like an aura. Vessel admits that he is able to see through everything easily, his human eyes somehow managing to see through the magic perfectly. Everyone goes quiet when Nick emerges, continuing to get ready for bed without another word.
III falls asleep first, hidden under the covers in case their glamor falls while he sleeps. II and Vessel keep their necklaces on, assured that their glamor will remain in place. II follows III to Sleep's arms easily, the stress of the day catching up to him. He no longer smells of cigarettes, to Vessel's relief. They're all shoved onto one bed, Vessel on his side with III's back pressed flush against his. II is on the other side, III's face buried into his chest, completely hidden under the covers.
Unable to sleep, Vessel finally pulls out his phone for the first time since he had called III hours ago, before their set. There are a few notificafions for things he has no care for, but one message from an unknown number catches his eye.
When he reads it, Vessel drops his phone as though it had burned him. The lit screen lights up his wide, panicked eyes, wet with oncoming tears as he leans over the side of the bed. II and III shuffle in their sleep, both of their brows furrowing as Vessel's distress stirs in the bond. They do not wake. Nick snores from the bed across the room, on the far side of the mattress. Vessel picks his phone up, shutting off his phone entirely and shoving it under his pillow. He turns around with difficulty to bury his face over where III's head is, squeezing his eyes shut. It takes forever but Vessel does fall asleep eventually, having wet the covers with crystalline tears.
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Unknown Number:
This is Terzo Emeritus. The taller of your band mates kindly lent me your phone when I asked. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I will be happy to answer whatever I can. Or an ear to listen if you need to talk. You're a curious thing, and I'm intrigued to see how you grow into your power with time.
Unknown Number:
It is curious that your heart was the offering your God had asked for , First and True Vessel of Sleep.
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casualsavant · 1 year ago
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20 Questions More
This is a deeper and more detailed version of the 20 questions for AO3 fanfic writers. Thanks to @TetsujinOtaku88 for the tag. I'm doing this #Supercorp style.
1) How do you keep getting ideas for your ship / fandom?
I think the Supercorp Fandom is pretty self-perpetuating because the canon needs to be fixed and there's lots of AUs to put them in. Plus there are so many talented people whose art, video edits, and fanfic fuel each other.
2) Which authors inspire you in your fandom, and why are they so freakishly good?
Following the answer above I think the beauty of Supercorp is that it attracts really talented creators. I love reading @searidings, @jazzfordshire's fix-its and canon-adjacent stuff, @lgbtimelords, @coffeeshib, @mycatismyeditor, and @snowydragonscave just to name a few. They have such a deftness of language and an understanding of the characters that it's hard to stop reading!
3) Aside from the characters of your main ship, who are the characters you love to write?
I really love Sam Arias, Jess, and Alex. I wish I could get a better handle on Kelly because DANSEN forever. I also have a soft spot for Eliza and a deliciously evil liking for Lillian.
4) Are there pairings or tropes you know for sure you'd never write about? Which ones?
Karamel, Lames, Top Lena, Bottom Kara. To each their own. It's just not my thing.
5) What is your writing process and why is it cursed?
Carry around a little notebook to scribble ideas, lines, sometimes whole scenes. Figure out a rough outline / structure / plot. Do unnecessary amounts of research. Open doc file. Plunge into dismay and self-doubt. Watch the show. Get frustrated. Open the doc file. Be filled with despair and self-loathing. Get a blast of inspiration and productivity. Cycle through mental instability, writer's block, and actual writing. Get dragged by Kara and Lena to unanticipated places that derails what I intended to do. Sighing and doing what the muses want. The elation of completion. Struggling with summaries and tags. Posting. Crippling anxiety and running away from AO3. Lather, rinse, repeat.
6) What is your favorite part of your writing process?
The elation of completion. The unnecessary research is fun too.
7) What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to research for a fic?
Cherry tree mutations and the structure of yakuza organizations in modern Japan.
8) Is there a particular writing rule you struggle with (grammar, spelling, tense, reality in general)?
Different tenses in the same document. Also it's and its.
9) What was your hardest scene to write so far and why?
Describing Kara's post-PZ night terrors and Lena’s fever dreams in Deliverance. Also the action sequence at the end of that story was so difficult.
10) Have your characters ever done something you didn’t expect, changing your plot completely?
ALL THE TIME.
11) If you could converse with any of the characters, who would it be and why?
Both of them. After I come to my senses and out of a dead faint because I was meeting them at all. And then I would die of sapphication.
12) What are some of the tropes or themes that you find yourself returning to in your writing?
Oh my usual tags are: light angst, tooth-rotting fluff, friends-to-lovers, Lena needs a hug, Kara gets a hug.
13) What's your most important resource as a writer?
Talking with other writers!
14) Can you share some of your strategies for editing and revising your work?
I usually give it some time before I edit so I can have relatively fresh eyes. Spell checking, punctuation, and grammar suggestions help you catch things but NOTHING beats reading it over yourself.
15) Which is worse: making the summary, picking the tags, or the anxiety when you post your fic?
Definitely the anxiety!!!
16) How do you define sucess for your fanfic - hits? Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? Or just if you like it?
I think it's good to track kudos and I love getting comments. But ultimately I wrote for my enjoyment or for my peace of mind because the idea would not let me go.
17) Do you have a playlist for your favorite character / ship?
Nope but that's not a bad idea. 🤔
18) If fan art was going to be made from your work, which fic would you pick and which fan artist would you like to create it?
Wow I'd be thrilled if any of them got art. I am partial to the way @rustingcat draws Sakura blossoms though so maybe Cat for No Wrong Seasons.
19) How many WIPs do you currently have?
8 total. Finishing "the Arcana", "The Sound of Veracity" (Part 2), Prequel and Smutilogue of "Always With Me, Always With You", Supercorptober 2023 "Art" prompt, SG Mayhem fic, the Telepathy/Empathy fic, the Body Swap fic.
20) What's your advice to new fanfic writers?
I posted my first Supercorp story in March 2023 feeling it would be completely lost in this large fandom and having no hope for it. I felt that I was too late. That everything had been done (and done better). I did find readers who liked and some who really loved my work. But mostly I learned to write for myself, which has truly been a gift. Write for yourself. Write what you'd want to see. You'll get better at it over time.
Tagging but no pressure: @fyonahmacnally @nottawriter @chaotic-super @luthordamnvers @fazedlight
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estellardreams · 1 year ago
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Sometimes I have random plot thoughts on stories that I like reading or am writing and I just wanna talk about a few that keep squirming around in my mind.
Tachophobia AU: Random Idea... In an attempt to stop his friends from reverting Niko back to Sonic, Starline secretly takes them into the facility and starts manipulating them in similar but also different ways. They could interact if he wanted, but it'd be a "Psych Ward" situation.
Imprisonment/Cybernetic AU: I have done a lot of messed up shit to characters before, and this isn't any different. Just look at my Cybernetic AU because jeez Issue 4 went hard on Sonic's trauma. It was actually my favorite to write and draw. I also got all of the work done in FOUR DAYS. (strange record. Was going to see a friend soon and I cranked out 11 pages and finished right before midnight the day before)
I actually wing a ton of my writing, and many plots don't get off the ground unfortunately because of it. So to shoutout some of those abandoned comics... "Not So Different" (A short mini between Canon!Shadow and Cybernetic!Sonic bc I noticed how similar they were), that one mlp x sonic pony comic I only got one page done for and don't have a name for, another mlp x sonic crossover comic featuring the Paradox Prism I only got to the cover art for, and that Imprisonment AU comic I completely forgot about and... Unfortunately abandoned but idk might come back to it.
Shadow Prime AU: I've always wanted to make a comic adaptation of the fic, and I might come around to it eventually once I decide what I wanna do. The main issue is the art style... Do I want it fully colored, black and white, or selective coloring? Not too sure but I'm kinda leaning on fully colored. But I still gotta finish Cybernetic but it's on hiatus due to burnout.
Sonic Cybernetic AU: I've actually wished for a game adaptation of the comic. Or at least... Working models people could use for other games to add them. I just think that'd be neat, but I can't code or model for anything.
Sometimes I accidentally enforce personal headcanons or personal experience to my writing... This happened recently with the "Rollercoaster" fic from the Tachophobia AU (reminder: I just like it. I did not create it. That belongs to @boom-fanfic-a-latta and @the-sky-queen.) Because I unintentionally drew from my own experiences from an amusement park. Although they were exaggerated a bit, they're still oddly close to my original memories. When I was younger, I liked going to the County Fair, and for the longest time I hated fast rides. I'd always panic on them, and my favorite ride was this caterpillar one (it was also slow paced and kinda bumpy). And Niko's experience, albeit shifted to be more like his character, was exactly how I felt on my first fast ride... Absolutely fucking terrified. I also sometimes have a nervous stammer and suffer from anxiety issues, so... I might've unintentionally written Niko to feel similarly to me at amusement parks when I was younger.
Anyway, just some random stuff, wanted to info-dump too. Cool? Okay, bye!
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zerolostwalks · 1 year ago
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Never have I ever: Coffee Shop AU
Spent a good bit of time debating if A Lovely Night counted for this. And then my brain said:
Ok but what if Julie worked at Eats and Beats? (More specifically in a everyone lives AU)
Julie fails out of the music program, and despite her Dad and Aunts best encouragements and insistence she just can not find the will to go into any other music program.
She decides to fill her time with a part time job and begins working at Eats and Beats. The idea of having to work at a place that has at least one weekly open mic night chafes a little but nowhere is hiring and she is assured that working the Cafe portion means she does not have to regularly work the mic nights. . .this turns out to be false.
Flynn quickly becomes a regular, unsurprising to Julie. Also unsurprising to Julie is the amount of she also has to see Carrie, because she has to work Mic Nights which Carrie regularly performs at.
There are other regulars as well but the standouts beside her old classmates are Bobby Shaw’s (Carrie’s cousin in this one and one of Julie’s coworkers) trio of friends. Oh wait scratch that it’s now a Quartet of friends after it turns out that ‘skate dude who Liam -the manager that makes her want to tear her hair out- frequently angrily mumbles about is dating Bobby’s tall blonde friend, who almost never orders coffee.
She slowly learns all their names but before she does she’s stuck with referring to them by other means. Because Bobby usually knows their orders if he’s working, and at first she’s a little intimidated to try and talk to him. It doesn’t help that even on days when Bobby is working they don't always give their actual name. She’s been given random musicians, various fictional characters, and what she is assuming are inside jokes when she and Alex both are forced to pretend shouting Hot Dog as a name is a perfectly normal thing to do.
Alex tends to get tea with the occasional plain black. Reggie tends to order the more experimental stuff. Like he spies whatever is on the special menu and goes “OMG, what is that?” She knows he must be having a hard time if he goes for something more subtle. Willie pushes the limits of customizing your own order, mostly only when Liam is working.
Luke, usually takes whatever the others order for him, and is usually busy talking with whatever manager is in charge of the open mic night that week.
All of them always order a ridiculous amount of pastries whenever they show up as a group.
Based on Luke’s pestering the open mic night managers Julie expects them to be regulars then as well, but mostly it’s Bobby, and occasionally Alex and Reggie showing up to support Carrie every now and then.
Somehow she starts talking with the four of them more and more. Reggie, Willie, and Alex actually start talking to her more outside of work because they chat with Flynn once when she was also there and that somehow turned into Flynn arranging a hangout with them.
It’s a bit of a surprise when Bobby and Luke also start turning up with the others to hang out with her and Flynn.
Eventually Julie also ends up performing at an open mic night. It starts out when one day she’s helping with set up and when she starts joking with the others end up singing a few bars of something to test the mic audio. She doesn’t even notice she’s done it until Bobby remarks on it (And oh look, his friends and Flynn are there too because why wouldn’t they be?)
Only Julie, since she didn’t realize she sang, has a brief angst anxiety panic moment and like ditches work.
Endgame: Debating between Peterpatterlina, Overlapping FlynnxReggieXJulie and peterpatterlina triangles, or some poly variant that also includes Bobby. But regardless of ship it will end with Julie getting back into music with the help of friends and making her debut at an Eats and Beats open mic night.
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lavenoon · 2 years ago
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Hi! ✨ GIVE YOURSELF ANOTHER COMPLI- No I'm kidding XD (But you deserve it, so know your writing is wonderful and remember to remind yourself of it now and again yeah?~)
But I come here with an actual question about AU that I thought because of the latest chapter haha! What would you say are the insecurities and other stuff that Robin would share with Sun and Moon vs what they share with Eclipse? Like what type would they rather have Eclipse listen to that they wouldn't feel that good expressing to the boys and vice versa?
(Rest assured I reread comments religiously I do remind myself through those! It's like body positivity vs body neutrality to me maybe? Hard to really look at it as more than just my way to have fun, yknow?)
I think it's less of a clear cut "this they only discuss with Sun/Moon, and this only with Eclipse" - as always, I make it complicated!
It depends a good bunch on what kind of reaction Y/N would want - like with the example from Fragile!
Y/N's fear: Sun and Moon leaving them, for whatever reason, and being alone again. Which is to say the fear of being rejected and ending up isolated.
Sun/Moon's reaction: We would never, we would move heaven and earth to stay with you, nothing will ever make us leave you, we love you!
Eclipse's reaction: Dude, yeah, I get that. It sucks. Every day there's that nagging feeling that today could be it, everything just catching up to you, and then you already know what it's like to not be alone and it just sucks even worse now that you know the alternative
Y/N needs reassurance often enough, to hear that yes, the boys want to stay with them, and will interfere even when circumstances try to separate them.
But sometimes.. Sometimes the reassurance doesn't help. Sometimes hearing "we would never!" just makes you feel worse, because now you feel silly for being scared, when anxiety isn't rational! That's when they need someone who understands, who has those fears, too, and who can tell them "you're not alone in this, and it sucks that you feel like this"
(on a similar note, Eclipse starts sending blueprints and gadgets to Y/N, because he wants them safe, too, but also because apparently being too blasé about injuries runs in the family, and he knows that Sun and Moon don't take the risk seriously enough sometimes. He knows Y/N wants them safe though, too, so he knows if he sends them the stuff, Y/N will make sure that Sun/Moon leave the house only appropriately decked out in security gadgets)
Reassurances about their job Y/N mainly seeks with Sun/ Moon, since they see them in action, and can make accurate judgements about what supervisors might think and how they did on a certain mission.
But if it's just to talk smack about fellow agents that just don't get how to have fun? (Because Sun and Moon pretend they're serious, despite their gimmicks) Someone made a stupid comment that says nothing about their actual talent and expertise? Then they go to Eclipse, because he makes it just so much funnier and shares some stories of his own (which is good for him, too, and reassures him that being eccentric is not just a him thing. Y/N plays up Sun and Moon's little theatrics, too, just for him)
Even between Sun and Moon there's differences - Sun is a lot more action oriented, and will gladly help propose contingency plans and solutions. Moon is a lot more laid-back, and an avid defender of "sleep on it" and ready to hold them for more emotional support.
Not to say that the boys only have those tactics - they adapt, of course. Some problems can't be advised away, or slept away. They just fumble a lot more out of their comfort zone, but they do try!
I feel like I left your og ask behind a long time ago oops
The thing is, it's very hard to say specifically what other anxieties Y/N might share with whom - because their reactions are always different, and there's many anxieties to have, with different needs regarding the reassurance and validation. Without a direct example it would become much too broad, and my brain won't actually let me think about more that I could break up like the one above. But! If you have any specific thoughts you're of course welcome to ask about those specifically, I'm just really bad at thinking about stuff without prompting fghdjs
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satohqbanana · 9 months ago
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Here's another attempt on how I will tackle AV2 characters in my story, "The Prince and the Witch", which is a slight AU sequel to the events of Ean's Quest. While the story focuses on Nicolas and an OC, but this post details the way I will handle the main party!
IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm aware that the AV universe is supposed to have a feminist and matriarchal flavor to it. However, there are still integral parts of it that make me feel like it wasn't able to completely discard some male-dominant views. Since certain gimmicks and characterizations do rely on it, here I chose to still consider that side of AV.
Ean
He's just a Regular Guy TM in the Vale. He's had a pretty average life with the simple dream of carrying on everyday with his loved ones and watching them succeed with their own things.
Sometimes, he cares too much, and that's a problem.
He's not afraid to speak his mind, call people out, and demand responsibility from others. He also regularly establishes boundaries when he can. He's willing to back off in the face of a perceived bigger threat, but tries to find loopholes to get his desired outcome.
On that note, Ean could bottle up his rage and frustrations pretty well. He can summon them again in battle and can be scary when he needs to be.
As an elf from the Vale, he probably gets Problem Sense Tingles a la Spidey Sense whenever something in the Land of Man doesn't feel right.
He's a little shy with his romantic feelings for Iya.
He is very nurturing. He tries so hard to understand his party members, but majority of his focus is on Iya.
Among the party members, Rye is his best buddy and also serves as his teacher in battle.
He lets Ava take lead sometimes, and he is very accommodating to everyone else who offers to join them in his quest.
Iya
As someone who was born with potential and raised with praises, all she wants is validation, acceptance, and assurance. She likes doing things for others, if it will make them like her.
Her memories as old Iya are still fuzzy, partly from having her soul ripped apart, partly from being treated poorly by her family.
Song magic does rely on her voice, so she developed the habit of not saying much, until her anxiety gets the better of her.
She often sticks to Ean's side and opinions since she feels the safest next to him. She acts cutesy with him to win his affections and attention. She's always had a crush on him, though prior to her kidnapping she was too focused on pleasing her family to ever act on her feelings.
Thanks to her time in Shaenlir, she has quickly mastered the diplomatic smile. She is also very mindful of rules and would not like to break them or even go around them.
She's not as fond of anyone else in the party, but she's willing to be civil since that's what Ean wants. Emma and Gavin in particular make her a bit uncomfortable.
Rye
There's a specific type of girl he hates and it's the ones who dream of rose-colored lives with rich men saving them from a life of cold, hard manual labor. (He's good with women who he considers are rough and tough, like Emma and Ava.) This is heavily influenced by local girls, especially his older sisters.
He knows he's not as smart and he's insecure about it.
He likes to talk. A lot. He needs to spend energy talking or he'll end up very annoyed and unwilling to cooperate.
As a hunter and a farmer, he is the brawn of the party. He also serves as their cook and initially carried most of their stuff.
He utterly hates Iya and her perceived vulnerability and dependence on Ean.
He thinks what he feels for Emma is something akin to romance, because he genuinely wants to support a hardworking person like her (and Ean).
He respects Ava and Gavin as established people in their respective fields, but hates and envies Nicolas for being so privileged.
Though initially wary of Jack, they vibe together so Rye is willing to overlook the whole criminal thing.
Emma
Having grown in a kingdom obsessed with romantic love, she swore to stand out and be not like other girls for real. She delights in gross and ugly things mostly to make people leave her alone.
That said, she hates being bossed around. She will use the volume of her voice and change her posture to appear bigger.
Whatever she puts her mind to, she is good at it. The only things she would avoid delving in are romantic relationships and kids.
She wasn't too fortunate as a young girl, so as an adult, she promised to always get what she wants.
She isn't romantically interested in Rye, but she thinks he's twice as better as the other available candidates for a spouse since he has similar views on romance and wouldn't be a nuisance about it.
To deal with Nicolas, she plays dumb about his requests so he'd think she's too incompetent to be bossed around.
She likes having Ean as a leader since he allows her to do whatever as long as she's done with her part of the thing. She's less enthused with Ava around since she finds Ava a bit strict for her taste.
She likes to hang with Gavin because he's cool and they have the best banter together (after Rye).
She also likes to bully Iya a bit, because she thinks Iya should grow a spine.
As an occasional thief and mischief maker, she respects Jack's hustle; even asks him for his tips and tricks.
Nicolas
His mother is his father's second wife, thus the big age gap between him and Uthar. He was essentially a rainbow baby so Guevene spoiled him a lot.
The Uthar he met is more prim and proper, a dependable guy with a knack for pranks and fun times. He looks up to his brother and considers Uthar's word as law, so Nicolas will do the dirty work if Uthar tells him so.
Hard pass if it means he has to listen to someone else, though. He will do things when he feels like doing it.
He loves to be pampered. He feels entitled to other people's service. He does not care if they like him or hate him, as long as it does not inconvenience him.
He is very untrustworthy towards people who do not look attractive or "clean" to him, like the witches. He was taught that all these kinds of people would take advantage of him.
He initially only likes Iya among the party members because she knows how to act like a proper lady. He doesn't know she doesn't exactly like him.
He initially doesn't respect Ava and doesn't believe Uthar is friends with her.
He doubts Ean's leadership, but as long as Nicolas fulfills Uthar's request of him, he will see the end of the quest.
Ava
Her real name is Evangeline Harper. She became an outlaw because she hated her origin country's government. She eventually snuck out to sea, made her own name from befriending other runaways, and established her own crew. They use seemingly derogatory codenames to appear unserious and unalarming.
Her ship is called "Freowright". She got stuck in Seri for a bit after the Snow Queen deployed soldiers in the mainland; now Ava has two ships. The other ship, built during the resistance against the Snow Queen, she's nicknamed "The Commissioner".
Ava grew on tough love and thus shows it as well to put people in place. As both a disciplinarian, the oldest, and the most experienced of the party, Ean assigned her as second-in-command.
Unlike Ean who's happy enough to have everyone help in battle or solve mysteries with him, she sees to it that everyone does their share of the work before slacking off.
Ava once wanted to settle down, but things didn't work out. Eventually she started pushing away other potential partners in fear of having to deal with heartbreak again. It doesn't help that she willingly stripped herself of her personal sense of femininity in an effort to look powerful when she was starting out.
She doesn't like to tell her personal stories to everyone, but when she does, it's a sign that the person she's telling it to has earned her trust. The only exception is Iya, who needs much guidance as an amnesiac and lost dreamer.
Gavin
As someone who grew up in a matriarchal society, he unabashedly calls women pet names the way a clique of girls do.
His upbringing doesn't prevent him from trying to actually flirt with girls. He loves women and the company of women. And it doesn't help that he's been so used to the attention of women as a warlock who grew up surrounded by them.
He is essentially a communist who's against excessive hoarding of wealth and thus abhors nobility and royalty alike. He immediately signs up to be the party's provisions manager.
Since he's a warlock, he doesn't really see "ugliness" as an insult. It's part of the charm.
Iya is among the girls he's backed away from, mostly because she and Ean hover around each other too much. Gavin's charms did at one point work on Emma, but they decided that being friends who occasionally "flirt" was way better.
He actually wasn't as romantically interested in Ava, but his witch's nature demand that he annoy her for a bit. When Gavin notices she responds quite favorably with very feminine nicknames and monikers, this interests him because it creates a contrast from the image she portrays. It's this part of her that he likes to try and bring out more.
Jack
He tries not to get too close to anyone because as a criminal, most of his bonds are very shaky and temporary.
He's quite lazy and would rather spend time having fun with friends and what money he has in his pockets.
He has a lot of comments about how to do things. Too bad a lot of them is also outdated.
He likes to get on people's nerves to see how much he could get away with. Only Rye and Emma have "passed" this test. Jack has also learned not to cross Ean too much because Ean's wrath is something else, and that Ava hates hearing her name being lengthened, but won't try to do anything against him for it.
Aside from being the party's resident menace, he also scouts ahead with Rye.
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synonymroll648 · 2 years ago
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I mean. if you're willing to share....then yes I am all ears on that sokeefitz angst fic...just saying *eyes*. I put this in a separate ask to give you a space to talk about it, but only if you want! Also no clue what I would want if I was sick, it's genuinely been so long I don't. I don't know what my sick safe foods are? life is so so so hard for people with strong immune systems i'm suffering so much /s
also hi hope you're feeling better! or that if you're still sick that it packs its bags and kicks its own ass to the curb soon <3
i'll answer the other stuff in the og chain; this one's juuuuust gonna be the sokeefitz angst fic lol.
basically: au (that's technically canon compliant, esp since the series isn't over? idk man don't ask) where like the shadowflux echoes in (fanon) fitz's knee, the echoes in his heart end up developing into a chronic condition. but the heart echoes are a significantly bigger threat to his health, like in canon (we don't ever see him get wiped out from the pain in his knee, but we do see him get wiped out from his heart echoes going haywire. there's examples throughout flashback of what i'm talking about). a year or two after canon ends (i'm approximating fitz'll be 18 or 19), livvy and elwin sit him down and tell him that from what they can see, they doubt he'll be able to live past 100.
they tell him that they'll do everything they can to make that statement false, but it falls on ringing ears.
from there, the premise would mainly be exploring how fitz would learn to manage his emotions to keep his heart echoes in check as best as he can - particularly anxiety and anger - plus him learning to accept that he's gone from having a shot at being a famous ancient to bring pride to the vacker family, to an elf that's become the closest to mortality that one can get. and ableism in the lost cities too, because i think realizing that a lot of the people he looked up to when he was younger valued him less as a disabled person would be a good motivator to break away from the golden boy mold and become who he actually wants to be, whoever that is.
and then there's also learning to accept almost-mortality through sophie's unique perspective on it, and helping her accept almost-immortality. slowburn exes to lovers on that front, through the power of - as keefe dubbed it in the books - cognate rawr. i'm also thinking this would be set in level 7 for fitz, so he could be roommates w/ keefe and have an '(unofficial) ex (childhood) best friends to lovers' arc.
sokeefe would be established already in this, but have a conversation fairly early on the fic where they're like 'ummm so i actually haven't moved on from fitz and it's freaking me out-' 'omg SAME' and then help each other figure out they're bi and polyam (that would be a side plot of its own, because, like. you can't do that in one scene lmao). and then once they'd reached that conclusion they'd be like 'hey so you wanna see if we can flirt our way into getting fitz to join our relationship?' 'worth a shot, sounds better than endless pining'.
ofc fitz is super dense though so he doesn't see keefe's advances as flirting until the obliviousness starts getting ridiculous, and he makes up ten million platonic excuses for sophie's actions because we broke up, there's no way she still sees me like that anymore - not when she has keefe the way she does. because as an aro i would do that in his situation and i have decided he's aro-spec <3 but they all get it together eventually. and get a cottage somewhere and fitz gets to be a baker and they just. have their happily ever after.
uuuuuuuuntil fitz is on the cusp of turning 100 and dies. because i'm evil. and i want to explore how much worse keefe's oh my god please don't leave me please please please i'd do anything to make you stay complex would get if he lost a lover and the situation was out of his control. and how much it would differ from sophie's acceptance. and how sophie's acceptance could turn into world-crushing anger and stuff after she stops feeling the need to stay strong for keefe.
and then maybe how much worse the whole please don't leave me alone please i'll do ANYTHING ANYTHING ANYTHING JUST STAY STAY STAY would get if sophie died centuries after fitz from some mission and keefe was truly on his own. just after he started feeling solid about having her in his life for a long time after the present. if i'm feeling particularly cruel by the end.
(there's a lot of scenes that made go OWOWOWOW that my brain conjured up, but. those stay in my brain until i write them. no spoilers :) also ik i'd need to do a lot of research on heart conditions to make fitz's arc more accurate to real life because even if shannon doesn't care about medical accuracy, i do lol.)
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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 years ago
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Shy Fics (5) Masterlist
part one, part two, part three, part four
A Trip To Getting Together (ao3) - JenCollins, WordsAblaze
Summary: Sometimes, all you need is a single bed in the last available stuffy motel room to admit that you want to upgrade your relationship and finally get that first kiss.
Amity (ao3) - thattumblrchick
Summary: dan had a personality more fragile than the flowers he pressed. (shy!d x punk!p)
-
or in which a perfectionist with a limp meets a basket case with an affinity for hiding. together they find that they have more common ground than might be expected.
Anxiety (ao3) - QueenKenzo
Summary: Dan has been homeschooled his whole life cause of his major anxiety so when he finally goes to school his sophomore year of high school, Phil is assigned to help him. Will they fall for each other?
Birds (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: Phil is a library volunteer who somehow ends up helping with a children's activity. And as he's working, he can't help but notice the curly haired stranger who is really good with kids and really good at making him smile.
Call It Love (ao3) - Literaryhobo
Summary: Phil's first time buying a condom. A lot of hilarity, awkwardness and a little bit of fluff ensues.
crayons and constellations (ao3) - howelllesters
Summary: “I’m the shy, quiet art major in our painting class and you’re the insane math major who’s always raving on about how the universe is full of dimensions that 3D can’t capture and how beautiful that is" AU. Or, the one where Phil takes Dan stargazing, and shows him the beauty in not knowing.
Detention (ao3) - pasteldanhowells
Summary: Phil Lester gets detention again, and meets Dan Howell, who is a shy and quiet kid and never talks to anyone. Phil picks up a conversation with Dan and they take a liking to each other. Phil doesn’t want to stop talking to Dan so he offers him a ride home and a friendship blossoms.
First Date/Last Night (ao3) - DryCereal
Summary: Suddenly he wants to lay all his cards on the table, and see which ones Phil picks up.
Fluffy Kitten (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets
Summary: A small cat seeks shelter in Phil's home on a rainy day. Phil is instantly smitten with the little guy and his cute perks.
Although the cat had weirdly human eyes, he absolutely never expected the cat to be his shy next-door neighbour, Dan Howell.
Frottica (ao3) - Spring_Haze
Summary: Dan finally acts on his feelings toward the sexy barista at Lester's Coffee Shop. Phil is relieved by the man's boldness, and an exciting new relationship begins.
Give Me A Spark, I'll Give You Explosions (ao3) - cafephan
Summary: Phil is quiet and shy, silently pining. Dan is loud and flirty, and doesn’t care about labels. House parties and nail polish occur.
Home With A Heartbeat (ao3) - JenCollins, WordsAblaze
Summary: Uni’s hard, so sometimes Dan ends up missing lunch. This time he goes to Phil, who gives him not only worried looks, a meal, and cooking skills, but also a home.
i love you so (but i don't want you to know) (ao3) - glasseslouis
Summary: the high school AU nobody asked for in which dan is a secret admirer and baking genius, and phil is oblivious in more ways than one.
In the Light of the Moon (ao3) - rainbowchristy
Summary: Dan Howell’s never had any friends. Why? Because he has a superpower. One that he can’t control. Luckily, the new kid at his school doesn’t mind.
Meet My Boyfriend!!! (ao3) - Oceanberre
Summary: Contains: Fluff, Shy!Dan, Slightly Possessive!Phil, PJ is Dans brother, Short!Dan and Dan has some rough medical stuff going on but he's okay :)
paint me in trust (ill be your best friend) (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: Phil is clumsy and shy, Dan is much nicer than Phil thinks, and both of them are too awkward for their own good.
Patterns (ao3) - gravityplant
Summary: In which the university student Dan moves into his first apartment, completely alone in the world for the first time. The lack of friends he compensates with overworking. But then there's suddenly Phil. Charming, shy Phil, with the most childish smile Dan's ever witnessed. Suddenly nothing's ever the same.
Sea Glass (ao3) - kae_karo
Summary: Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family's cabin while it's repaired and sold. Except the cabin's in far worse shape than expected, and Phil's got to find somewhere else to stay
Shy Kitty (ao3) - notebookofdreams
Summary: Dan’s a neko. Phil’s an introvert who’s addicted to coffee.
The Heat Of The Water And The Heat Of Our Souls (ao3) - kuwuromi (aphrodeity)
Summary: Dan and Phil have been best friends for as long as either of them can remember. One night in a jacuzzi changes the entire dynamic of their relationship, starting with some fond memories of the past.
Take Me Out Instead (ao3) - amazinghiatus
Summary: Phil is a cute pizza boy, so dan keeps ordering pizza because he’s embarrassingly shy.
The Bassist (ao3) - Star4545
Summary: Phil is the shy bassist in Dan's favorite band.
Three Tattoos (ao3) - greensweater
Summary: When a talkative, blue-eyed boy named Phil Lester walks into Dan Howell's tattoo parlor one dusky autumn afternoon, Dan isn't sure what to make of him. But when Phil keeps coming back, their one-time connection grows into friendship, and eventually, something more.
Who's That Boy? (ao3) - pasteldanhowells
Summary: Dan Howell is the shy, loser kid who nobody notices unless they’re picking on him. Nobody cares about him until they find out that he’s dating a mystery older boy on a motorbike, named Phil Lester.
You Tried (ao3) - analester
Summary: prompt where 2009 dan is shy and he tries to straddle phil but he accidentally knees him in the crotch"
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Text
Hey!! People who still visit this blog for any reason ...and bored people! Curious people! People with entirely too much time on their hands! People who like cringe! HEAR YE...
(Plain text: Hey!! People who still visit this blog for any reason...and bored people! Curious people! People with entirely too much time on their hands! People who like cringe! HEAR YE...)
So, um. Basically I'm trying to like, start an OCverse. And you know, if you want to collaborate, and help, and bounce ideas, and have fun because this isn't supposed to be that serious all the time, and stuff, you know, that would be, COOL
It's still just a little sprout, my verse. Actually let me tell you how this started. Well you see I'm in this fandom....and I made a lot of stuff for this fandom.....and now I realised that workload is way, way too much, and I'm FINALLY just keeping it solidly on the side, or atleast trying to. People who've known me for a while will know this fandom is for the 2019 game Smile For Me. People who've known me longer than that while( if I've told them) will know I eventually accumulated all that Stuff into an AU, which I go by calling Roseverse these days.
But, Well! You don't really need to know all that,
Because, you see, this OCverse ( working name is Fading Edge after one of my first Tumblr usernames HA) started out as me OC-fying that AU, but now after a few weeks in incubation it's becoming it's own thing.
And...well....look...I have my friends, but the ones I'm talking to about this right now to try and develop it are, well Busy. So I'm reaching a branch out to you good folks on Tumblr....please, if anyone's interested, help me write!
To let this not turn into a giant ramble ...let me just put down the Qualifications(LOL) that you need to get ON THIS WAGON!;
--Uh, please be tolerant of LGBT/Queer stuff. I know this is Tumblr but one can never be too safe. I'm, like, bi, so if you hate me we can't really make this a good partnership man.
-- Not required but if you're Indian as well, Hi! I am too and most likely the majority of the OCs or atleast the main ones will be so we may have an easier time with that aspect due to our shared background, maybe. The MCs are of Tamil descent if it matters.
-- Also not required but if you have previous knowledge of the game I mentioned AKA Smile For Me or S4M as it is shortened, just the canon is enough, I think we could, with some explaining, work out more on how certain character interpretations or general ideas can translate to original work without being the exact same. If you don't know or care though that's fine we can just talk OC stuff.
-- Read my pinned before you message me or send an ask about this to me! Please I don't want drama.
-- Very likely any writing partnership we form will be longterm because uh. I want to work on this for LIFE. I hope it's not as intense as it sounds, I just need a comfort to fall back on during hard times at the core of it. And...telling a story, my own. You know. And uh....this is for fun so.....hey...we may become friends!! Do you want friends?? I can try to be yours, this is seriously not a professional endeavour.
OK, let's stop the list before THAT drags on too.
I think the last general thing you gotta know is that my writing is by no means a set of structured written stories but instead I prefer it to be a dialogue between me and a friend where I'll send memes, make shitty jokes, good jokes, a lot of jokes really, try for character introspection, connect the dots together and have really satisfying moments when they click, probably get Writing Blocked, have large bouts of anxiety, make lots of art, just fucking. Goof around and get over emotional ( i WILL cry) in general and maybe if the dear sun shines upoun us I will produce writings and such things of varying quality.
So...I think that's it....uhhh..bottom line>
Please if anyone's interested to write with me about my OCverse, send ask or DM-- read pinned first
( Plaintext: Please if anyone's interested to write with me about my OCverse, send ask or DM-- read pinned first)
And the rest of you, who are just passing this by, hey, uh, help a guy out and REBLOG THIS FOR REACH....If You Want To. No pressure!
( Plaintext: And the rest of you, who are just passing this by, hey, uh, help a guy out and REBLOG THIS FOR REACH....If You Want To. No pressure!)
Alternate title: Local Anxiety Sufferer Explains Himself About Fake Little Blorbos Too Much Once Again
Sighhhh...oh yeah and my names Haider.
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just-lythecreator · 6 months ago
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Ly ramble about Hunters again-
Ok
Let me explain
There reason of me and Seeker end up didn’t post much about Hunters (Seeker and HZ)’s relationship stuff sometime, especially regard how goddamn deep relationship actually is. Part of it was from experience aro/acephobic bs attack on @the-galactic-hunters when the blog was kicking off, and how much Seeker actually more secretive possessive about his relationship than he like to let on at times. But by doing that. I’m in the predicament of WANT TO LET PEOPLE KNOW WHY IM SO DEEPLY BRAINROT OVER THESE BASTARDS but also just me very protective of how people see them (i know no one can really do anything of how people judge your character, I know that well experience UTMV), also me respect Seeker’s privacy bc he still don’t like what happen to the blog two years back.
Now tho?
Hunters actually start to ok with to show more aspect of their relationship (it also Seeker feel bad of me only have few people know about them and I can’t ramble as much-). But me being me. I’m still scared. It just that at this point their roll to Invader Zim au is getting farther than they use to, but their origin still very deep in IZ lore with some adjustments. Their relationship is so fucking interesting but also…intense. Not really in much of a category.
They happy call each other as partner or pale mates (even tho these mfers vacillate to different quadrants like CRAZY). They hate refer whatever they are as date or boyfriend (ew-) or lover or anything very romantic stuff. Idk why they just don’t like that for some reason.
They are just, Thems
Annoyingly devoted, a bit obsessed with each other, in a fine line of weirdly most stable healthy with sprinkles of toxic queer platonic relationship.
Some shit seem to never go away and they are ok with it and it very got intense sometime. They are basically the pair that I end up go so far regard to art, fixation, and comfort zone. They mean a lot to me, like so so much. Which is also why I’m scared of people judgement over them, my anxiety ass still prevent me from even show 20+ artwork that I never show to the blog itself. I kinda slowly start to show more this year with random doodle dumps on the blog or my own art blog, but it not even half of what i actually did. Baby steps. Plus it kinda hard to put all of that in order at this rate so it make even more hard to follow though with it.
So I was like, I wanna start ramble stuff about them to other people outside of the fandom and it became this weird silly thing I’m showing rn-
Hunters relationship description in one screenshot Feat. My friend
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My friend reaction to me brain dump 75% of the Galactic Hunters lore outside of the blog
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Idk what I’m doing tbh
I’m just
Wanna talk about hunters a lot. Silly me
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taegularities · 1 year ago
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HEY RiD ! How are you honeybuns 💗✨️ Life has been kicking my ass for a while but there is still hope for me ..Anxiety and panic attacks are the freaking worst ..I have never experienced one before so it was kinda terrifying i was literally watching my own horror movie..but thats not the point ..the point is that YOU AUTHOR RID ARE GUILTY FOR RAISING MY STANDARDS ! Like hello am i supposed to die single 😭 why would you do this huh ! ANSWER ME ....was/is there someone or something that inspired/s you to write your characters this way ..and CMI jk !! OMG His character is phenomenal ..Oh the man he is ..its like when he loves ..he just loves yk ..there is no limit /boundary to his love and affection ..i cant help but imagine that if he and oc were to wed ..he is probably gonna be the crying and throwing up bcz his heart is bursting out of love and he is so freaking drunk over her ..i just know that oc would have to koala hug him so he stops crying lmao 🥹😭 ..These freaking fictional men istg ..And dont even get me started on dates ..i swear half of the time i am just scrolling my fav aus and being delusional while on the other hand the poor guy is trying to talk to me and banging his head on the table 💀 i just hope you are taking care of your health cuz we are the sensitive gang (one thing goes wrong and i know i am already going down the rabbit hole ) ..Also just curious (if you wanna share ) How was your first date experience like? Your first crush ? Cuz there is this guy in my Arts class and i am crushing so hard on him like he is so freaking sweet and charming ..He passed my vibe check on the first day 🙂 i get butterflies (alot ) whenever he looks at me.he is not the first guy yk like i have been on a lot of dates and stuff ..i did find them attractive but it is just so different with him ..like as much as i want to believe gettinf butterflies and heart skipping beats is real ..it has never happened to me and i am just going crazy ..it is scary as well cuz no guy has ever held this much power over me 🕳🚶‍♀️ Sometimes over pinkies would touch accidently and i am already melting in a puddle 🙂😭 What the hell is happening ..it is like Cmi yk..i just know that if he tries hard enough he can break my heart and i would gladly let him( this thought scares the shit outta me ) ..
awh man, living for the chaos in this ask lol it's so all over the place 🤧 i'm okay! winter break shall give me some peace of mind. how are youuuu?… totally.. cmi jk keeps raising my standard, too :') thinking about them hurts me bc i can't wait to experience such a love one day, too </3 and you will, as well!! i know some people are odd and make people lose hope, but i want to believe that there are a bunch out there who are just right for us and know how to make us happy 💕 tbh, i didn't base these characters on anyone i know, but rather… oc is someone i strive to be and jk is the kind of person i would want to love :(
my first date? hmmmm… honestly, a bit awkward? :'D we were at his place and watching something, but i know he was looking at me through the tv's reflection? and then we had more dates and our first kiss kinda went.. very wrong lmao but all that was part of something that bloomed into something beautiful 🌹 you'll be okay, love!! enjoy the feeling your crush evokes!! manifesting so much happiness for you 🥺
(also omg i gotta ask before i go all overthinking mode.. you said arts class? but you're 18+ right? 😭 since i have a minors dni policy!! pls lmk <3)
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