#but inside view seems to improve things

[etirabys]

I'm pretty depressed and am aware that the process of exiting this step needs to be split in some way across myself and others, but The Horrors present themselves to me as one atomic entity; whenever I attempt to explain The Horrors it feels like I simply make a copy of the atom, pass it to a friend, and then it vanishes out of their hands

[gatheringbones]

[“Coming out was very lonely. I had very few friends. Most of the adult lesbians I knew were alcoholics, chronically unemployed, prone to violence, self-hating, apolitical, closeted, cliquish. Lesbians hated each other. If you found a lover you stopped going to the bar because you could not trust other lesbians; they would try to break up your relationship. My first woman lover went into the military, where she turned in other lesbians so she would not be exposed. One of my dyke friends got a job as a supervisor in a cabinet-making company and refused to hire lesbians because, she said, they were unreliable employees who were disliked by the other workers. The only thing that seemed worse to me than the apolitical lesbian community I came out in was the strangulation of pretending to be straight. I came out only because I could not go back; there was no place for me to stand in the het world. I was driven out.

Moving to San Francisco improved things somewhat. There was more public lesbian space there—six bars instead of one. But it did not alleviate the loathing with which my family viewed me. Nor was San Francisco in the early seventies any sort of gay utopia. We had no gay-rights law, queer bashing was a frequent event, and everyone had lost at least one job or been denied a place to live. It was a relief to be surrounded by other lesbian feminists, but only to a point. Bar dykes and feminists still had contempt for one another. Feminism rapidly became a way to reconstitute sexual prudery, to the point that it seemed to me that bar dykes were actually more accepting of and knowledgeable about the range of behavior that constituted lesbianism. In the bars or in the women’s movement, separatism was pretty much mandatory, if you didn’t want to get your ass kicked or be shunned. Separatism deteriorated into a rationalization for witch hunts in the lesbian community rather than a way for women to bond with one another and become more powerful activists. The lesbian community of that decade did terrible things to bi women, transgender people, butch/femme lesbians, bar dykes, dykes who were not antiporn, bisexual and lesbian sex workers, fag hags, and dykes who were perceived as being perverts rather than über-feminists. We were so guilty about being queer that only a rigid adherence to a puritanical party line could redeem us from the hateful stereotypes of mental illness and sexual debauchery.

What did I gain? I came a little closer to making my insides match my outsides, and that was no small blessing. The first time I met other dykes I recognized a part of myself in them, and knew I would have to let it out so I could see who I was. For a time, being a lesbian quieted my gender dysphoria because it made it possible for me to be a different kind of woman. That was an enormous relief.

For a long time, I hoped that by being strong, sexually adventurous, and sharpening my feminist consciousness, I could achieve a better fit between my body and the rest of me. Lesbianism was a platform from which I could develop a different sort of feminism, one that included a demand for sexual freedom and had room for women of all different erotic proclivities. I had a little good sex and discovered that I was not a cold person, I could love other people. It was as a lesbian that I began to find my voice as a writer, because in the early days of the women’s movement, we valued every woman’s experience. There was a powerful ethic around making it possible for every woman to speak out, to testify, to have her say. But there were always these other big pieces of my internal reality that lesbianism left no room for.

The first big piece of cognitive dissonance I had to deal with, in my second coming out, was S/M. I date my coming out as a leather dyke from two different decisions. One was a decision to write down one of my sexual fantasies, the short story that eventually became “Jessie.” At the time I wrote the rough draft of that story, I had never tied anybody up or done anything else kinky. I was terribly blocked as a writer. I kept beginning stories and poems that I would destroy. I have no idea if they were any good or not. My self-loathing was so intense, my inner critic so strong, that I could not evaluate my own work.

So I decided to write this one piece, under the condition that I never had to publish it or show it to another person. I just wanted to tell the truth about one thing. And I was badly in need of connecting with my own sexuality since I was in the middle of what would be a five-year relationship with a woman who insisted we be monogamous, but refused to have sex with me. So I wrote about dominance and submission, the things I fantasized about when I masturbated that upset me so much I became nauseated. Lightning did not strike. As I read and reread my own words, I thought some of them were beautiful. I dared show this story to a few other people. Some of them hated it. Some of them were titillated. Nobody had ever seen anything like it before. The story began to circulate in Xerox form, lesbian samizdat. I found the strength to defend my story when I was told it was unspeakable or wildly improbable.

In October of 1976, I attended a lesbian health conference in Los Angeles and went to a workshop there about S/M. In order to go to a workshop, you had to sign a registration sheet. I was harassed by dykes who were monitoring this space to see who dared sign up for that filthy workshop. On my way, I had to walk through a gauntlet of women who were booing and hissing, calling names, demanding that the workshop be canceled, threatening to storm the room and kick us all out of the conference. The body language and self-calming techniques I had learned when I had to deal with antigay harassment on the street came in very handy, but how odd it was to be using those defenses against the antagonism of other dykes. Their hatred felt like my mother’s hatred. I am so glad I did not let it stop me.

When I got home from that workshop, I knew that I was not the only one. Not only were there other lesbians who fantasized about sadomasochism, there were women who had done these things with each other. I decided to come out again. If there were other leather dykes in San Francisco, they had to be able to find me, so I had to make myself visible. This meant that I often did not get service at lesbian bars, or I was asked to leave women-only clubs and restaurants. I was called names, threatened, spit at. I got hate mail and crank calls. But I also found my tribe. And because I had already experienced my first coming out, I knew we were not going to be an ideal, happy family. I could be more patient with our dysfunctions, and see them as the result of being scared, marginalized, kicked around. Being a leather dyke took me another step closer to dealing with my gender issues. I could experiment with extreme femme and extreme butch drag; take on a male persona during sex play. I gave up separatism because I needed to take support from any place where it was available. Gay men already had a thriving leather culture, and I wanted to learn from them. I also wanted to have sex with them. It still wasn’t okay as far as lesbian feminism was concerned to be bisexual, to be transgendered, but I could bring those folks into my life and make alliances with them. I could defend them in print. There was even more good sex, and people who loved me and received my love despite the fact that it was dangerous for us to show ourselves to one another. I faced my sexual shadow, and she bowed to me and then danced beautifully in profile against the white walls of my consciousness. My writer’s voice was unlocked.”]

pat califa, from layers of the onion, spokes of the wheel, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 3

wc: 1565, Masterpost

Danny wanted to pace. He wanted to work out the energy and anger burning under his skin by moving. But he couldn’t— he wouldn’t. Red Hood still had a grip on his sleeve and Danny wouldn’t take that grounding point from the other, not when it seemed to help the man so much. Not when Danny knew how bad the separation from one’s haunt hurt.

The touch was also grounding him, Danny could admit that much. He knew that his powers were getting away from him. He knew they were seeping in that way that they did these days, bleeding out and warping pieces of the reality around him. It was more than he wanted to show the Justice League, but he couldn’t keep it all inside. He was spiraling.

Danny took a deep breath and tried to focus.

“It’s alright, Red Hood. You don’t need to stand guard in front of me. They won’t hurt me,” Danny said. At least he hoped they wouldn’t try.

“You are a threat to them.”

Danny shook his head. He could be, of course, but he wouldn’t be. “I’m not.”

Red Hood turned his head, just slightly. Even without seeing the other’s eyes, Danny felt he was being watched. “You didn’t do things their way. That means you’re a threat. They eliminate threats.”

Danny bristled. Not at being called a threat, but because of the picture that painted about Red Hood’s captivity.

“Perhaps we should all have a seat,” Wonder Woman suggested as she took a seat sat the table herself.

Everyone else hesitated a moment, but Danny nudged Red Hood towards a seat and took one across the table from the heroes himself. He held back a sigh as Red Hood chose to stand behind him instead, one gloved hand rested on Danny’s shoulder. It was an improvement, at least.

Batman took the seat to the right of Wonder Woman, and Superman the right of him. They clearly framed the man. John very clearly put himself in the middle of the two groups— both literally and figuratively. Uneven odds, but Danny had faced worse.

“I need the whole story, Constantine,” Danny said, not waiting for one of the others to take charge. His hands were gripped white knuckled together where they rested on the table. He couldn’t keep the thread of anger out of his tone, but he reigned it in as best as possible. “Because from my point of view, I walked in on you all torturing Red Hood in a way that could very well kill him.”

“We don’t kill,” Superman said, puffing up with his pointed words.

Danny stared at him for a long moment before he glanced up at Red Hood. “Is that the way of theirs you went against? The one that made you a threat?”

The hand on his shoulder tightened subtly.

“He’s a murderer,” Superman said, leaning forward as if imparting something important. “He beheaded people to make a point.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, crinkling his brows up purposefully in confusion. “Did I ask you anything?”

While Superman looked like he’d sucked on a lemon, Danny turned to Constantine. He knew the shadows were growing around him, lengthening, and he let them this time. “I need the whole story. Now, John.”

John glanced from Danny to the others, cigarette turning restlessly in his fingers. Whatever he saw in the big three, it was enough and he slumped heavily back into is seat. The sigh he heaved was full bodied and he just looked weary suddenly. “Justice League asked me to check something out in Gotham. Which is…”

Danny nodded and motioned for him to go on. Gotham was a cursed city of pretty notorious reputation in the magical community. In general, people of any real power stayed away unless they were up to something very dark. The only ways to operate in Gotham as a proper magic user was to be supported by Gotham’s curses or be supported by Gotham herself, and her favor was rare to earn.

“So I recruited the vigilante known as Red Hood. Not… exactly the one behind you,” John said, motioning with his cigarette. “And by recruited I mean badgered him until I promised to play errand boy for a few things.”

“…and yet you claim you didn’t know he’s a protector spirit?” Danny asked sharply, the words almost hissing with his rage.

“Pomp,” John leaned forward, spreading his hands over the table top. The cigarette barely stayed between his fingers. “I swear to you, in full weight, that I didn’t. Other Red Hood was alive. He reeked of death, but all the Bats do. You do. I went to him since he uses magic, abet dubiously, and is…” John shot a glance at Batman before grimacing. He continued anyways. “He’s a sodding Son of Gotham, alright? His presence at my side let me work in the city.”

Danny sucked in a breath through his teeth. Well fuck.

“How angry is Gotham?”

John shrugged. “That’s… complicated, Pomp. Let me finish the damn story?”

Double fuck. Danny leaned back in his chair and tried to unclench his hands.

“So we go and find the problem,” John continued. “Which of course…”

“Cult.”

“Cult. What else in Gotham, right mate? We fight, Red Hood comes in handy, but then the head fucker shows some serious skills— or paid for some serious skills at least. They go on this rant about undoing what made one what they are today, motioning with this staff. I can only think that it was meant to get rid of how I got my powers, but Red Hood shoves me out of the way and takes the blast to the chest instead. There’s a cloud of magic because the whole cult is showy bastards and when it clears, there’s this Red Hood standing there and also his civilian ID, or at least a version of him. Looks a might bit smaller, mind you.”

“Okay, sure, right,” Danny said. He could feel the headache coming on. “So we’ve got the vigilante and then… who he would have been if he’d never been a vigilante?”

Danny swore Batman shifted at that.

Batman never shifted.

Danny was about to call him out when Wonder Woman cleared her throat and leaned forward. She rested a deceptively delicate hand on Batman’s arm. “No, before he was Red Hood, he was a Robin.”

“What it changed,” Red Hood explained, voice rough even for the modulation, “Is if we died. I still did. I feel it. I’m the Robin that died.”

Even Batman didn’t manage to hide his flinch at that.

Triple fuck.

-----

AN: Surprisingly, Danny hasn't gone off yet! And we're starting to get more answers! Kinda? Somewhat. Now I wonder what that other version is doing...

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the Masterpost instead to be notified!

[ohmyamor]

oh my ***

Pairing: ateez (ot8) x reader

Summary: Everyone supposedly has a guardian angel, one that’s tasked to always keep their human out of trouble and on the right path of life. But you don’t just have one, you have...eight?!

w.c. 10.2k

Warnings: fluff, angst, near death experiences, threatening someone wooyoung with a bat, cursing, comfort, reincarnation, i think that’s it?

You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself a lucky person. 

You also wouldn’t really consider yourself an unlucky person either. 

You just kind of exist, with the occasional good and not-so-good things happening to you. 

Like when you somehow managed to score you and your friends front row seats to see your favorite group in concert. Or the time that you somehow managed to break your ankle and your phone all in the same day. 

So, yeah, you wouldn’t say you’re the luckiest person in the world, but you’re also not the unluckiest person, so you’re pretty fine with continuing your life as is. 

Today, however, has been going oddly perfect. 

You woke up for the first time in forever feeling incredibly well-rested, which has not happened since before you hit puberty. The weather was perfect, maybe a little too perfect, but you didn’t care. You could finally open your windows completely to let in the cool breeze from outside, listening as the birds sang outside of your apartment. 

Checking your phone, you also noticed that your paycheck came in a whole day early. Opening your bank account, you stared wide-eyed at the number that was deposited. It was certainly a much larger amount than your last paycheck. 

Feeling absolutely ecstatic over how well the morning was going, you decided to make a trip to your favorite coffee shop and treat yourself to some breakfast. 

Connecting your phone to your speaker, you selected your favorite playlist and allowed the music to flow through the apartment. Picking out some cute clothes, you began to get ready. As you finished washing your face, you also noticed that your skin seemed to be really nice today, with hardly any redness seeping through and the dark circles under you eyes had seemed to disappear over night. 

Smiling brightly at yourself in the mirror, you finished applying your skincare before moving to get dressed and apply some light makeup. Once you finished, you couldn’t help but check yourself out in the mirror. 

I look so cute today.

Giving yourself a wink, you let out a small laugh at your own antics before grabbing your purse from where it hung on the wall and stepping outside. Making sure the door was locked, you began the short walk to your favorite cafe. 

You couldn’t help but admire how nice the sun felt on your skin. For the past few weeks, the weather had been anything but nice, and it almost felt like the weather had been reflecting your mood. With the project you had been assigned at work, you had been feeling so overwhelmed and stressed out that you often contemplated just quitting in order to get rid of the stress. 

But thankfully, the project was finally done, you had received great feedback from your boss, and it finally seemed as though your little slump was beginning to improve.

Making your way inside the cafe, you walked up to the counter and ordered your usual drink as well as a small pastry. 

A little treat for myself.

Sitting down at a table that had the best view of the street, you made yourself comfortable with your drink as you waited for your pastry. Though, you were pleasantly surprised when the man who took your order came out with two pastries instead of one. 

“Um, I think you might’ve given me the wrong pastry,” you frowned slightly. “I only ordered this one,” you pointed at the pastry that you know for sure you had ordered. 

“Oh!” the man smiled brightly. “No, don’t worry, it’s on the house!” 

Before you could even respond, the man gently placed both pastries on your table, sending you a small wink and making his way back behind the counter. 

You could feel your cheeks warm slightly at the man’s actions. 

Damn, today really is a great day you thought, bringing the pastry up to your mouth and taking a bite out of it. 

Holy shit this is so good too you hummed appreciatively. 

After thoroughly enjoying your breakfast, you bid goodbye to the barista before making your way out of the store. 

Hmmmm, what should I do now?

Glancing around, you remembered that one of your favorite bookstores was about a block away, and quickly made up your mind to go there. 

Walking to the nearest stoplight, you pushed the button on the pole and waited patiently for the light to turn green. Fishing out your phone from your bag, you scrolled aimlessly through social media and responding to some texts your friends had sent. Glancing up, you noticed the light was now green. 

Placing your phone in your pocket, you began to cross the street. 

You were almost at the other side of the crosswalk when a loud screeching noise caused you to whip your head to the side. There was a car moving down the street in your direction incredibly fast, and you watched as people on the sidewalks jumped out of the way as the car swerved from side to side and hit things on the street. 

Your heart raced you watched the car come barreling towards you. It felt like your feet were stuck to the ground and you couldn’t find it in yourself to move. 

Right as the car came feet away from hitting you, you shut your eyes, bracing for the impact of the car hitting your body. 

You barely registered the feeling of someone grabbing your hand and yanking you forward. 

Landing roughly on your hands and knees on the sidewalk, you stared at the cement in front of you as the sound of the car slowly disappeared in the distance. There were people running up to you from both sides of the street, some yelling while others gently crouched next to you and asked if you were okay. 

The strangers helped turn you around and you sat on the sidewalk unable to calm your racing heart. 

“Th-thank you,” you breathed out, looking at the woman who was closest to you. 

Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at you concerned. 

“For what?”

You swallowed. 

“For grabbing me and pulling me forward. I couldn’t move and I though for sure the car was going to hit me,” you explained. 

It was your turn to look confused when she opened her mouth. 

“Honey, there was no one around you. I certainly wasn’t going to reach you on time and neither was anyone else.”

-

After the lady explained to you that the other pedestrians on the street had just barely reached you after you were already on the sidewalk, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. 

The strangers who had come up to check on you were incredibly nice, and after convincing them to not call an ambulance and that you could stand on your own, the crowd slowly dispersed. 

The woman who had helped you insisted on calling a cab for you, even though you reassured her that you didn’t live far and you could make it home safely. She was adamant, saying that she wouldn’t let you walk home alone after what just happened and said it would weigh heavy on her conscious if she did. 

Eventually, you relented, and waited with her patiently as she called a taxi. 

When the cab eventually pulled up, she gave you a hug and said that she was happy you were okay and to get home safely. 

Waving goodbye through the window, you watched as her figure slowly grew smaller. 

Leaning back against the leather seats, you finally allowed yourself to process what had just happened. 

Your day had been going so well and that car had quite literally come out of nowhere. Even though the lady who helped you said there was no one near you, you were 100% positive you had felt someone grab your hands and pull you forward onto the sidewalk.

Your mind wandered to your parents and the stories they had told you when you were younger of guardian angels. 

“Guardian angels? What’s that?” seven-year-old you has asked your mom.

She smiled, softly running her hand through your hair from where she sat on the edge of your bed. 

“They’re people who are assigned to watch over you and always protect you. They help you when you’re in trouble and make sure you always make good decisions.”

Younger you wrinkled her nose. 

“They’re always watching me? That sounds creepy.”

Your mom laughed, tossing her head back. 

After what you had experienced today, maybe the stories your mom used to tell you weren’t that crazy. 

As the cab you were in slowly came to a stop in front of your building, you thanked the driver and rummaged through your bag looking for some cash to tip him. 

He waved his hand at you, telling you the lady who had flagged him down already paid and there was no need to tip. 

“I’m just glad I could get you home safely.” 

“Oh,” you blinked, kind of surprised he was saying no to being tipped. “Well, thank you, sir.” You said honestly. “I hope you have a great rest of your day,” you said, stepping out of the car. 

The driver bid you farewell and drove away from your building as soon as you walked through the front gates. 

Sighing heavily, you made your way to the elevator in the building and walked into the old machine, watching as the doors closed and the numbers for the floors slowly climbed up.

Honestly, you couldn’t wait to into your bed and knock out. Way too much has happened today that was out of your comfort zone, to say the least. 

Eventually, you reached your front door and reached into your bag to fish out your keys. 

Searching inside your bag with your hand, your eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t feel the familiar metal of your keys. 

I know I brought them with me, so where are they?

Taking your bag off your shoulder, you opened it up and began pulling out everything you had in there. You could feel the pit in your stomach get heavier with every item that was removed and no keys were found. 

You eventually emptied out your entire bag and still, you were unable to find your keys. Leaning your back against your door, you slowly allowed yourself to sink to the ground. 

They must’ve fallen out when I fell, you though bitterly. You could feel the familiar sting of tears in your eyes and you felt a lump in your throat. 

This was the last thing you needed today. 

You’re unsure how long you sat outside your apartment door, wallowing in your own misery. 

The sound of footsteps brought you of your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you noticed a tall man with short pink hair come to a stop in front of you. 

“Is everything okay miss?” 

Holy shit he has a deep voice

You sighed loudly. 

“Not really,” you admit. “I lost my keys at some point when I was out today and my friend who has my spare is out of town for the week.”

You’re not really sure what compelled you to tell all this to the strange man who you’ve never even seen in your apartment, but something about him gives off a very peaceful aura. 

You feel like you could tell him anything. 

The man furrows his eyebrows and a soft pout forms on his face. 

“Aw, I’m really sorry,” he sympathized. 

You shrugged, there wasn’t really anything he could do to help.

He glanced around nervously. Why? You’re not quite sure. 

“I’m, uh, actually one of the maintenance people and we’re here doing some routine check-ups,” he started. 

Check-ups? The building manager didn’t notify me of anything going on this week. 

“If you want,” the man continues. “I can go back down to the leasing office and grab the master key to unlock your door for you?”

You hesitate. 

On one hand, this man is literally offering to go out of his way to help you out and unlock your door for you. 

On the other hand, you have absolutely no way of proving he’s actually who he says he is. He could be a serial killer for all you know and you’ve basically just given him access to unlock your apartment and kill you in your sleep. 

Giving him a once over, you notice the bluish jumpsuit he’s wearing and the work boots he has on. Quite frankly, he does look like he’s been doing some manual labor, so maybe he’s telling the truth. 

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit hesitantly. 

Honestly, if he does turn out to be a serial killer and comes back to murder you in your sleep, you’ll make sure to haunt him for the rest of his life. 

“Great!” he smiles widely, his eyes turning into the cutest crescent moons you’ve ever seen. 

At least he’ll be a cute serial killer, you think. 

“Oh!” he says, as though he just remembered something. “Also, my name’s Mingi! It’s really nice to meet you!” the man, Mingi, reaches his hand out. 

Pushing yourself off the floor, you quickly dust yourself off before reaching out as well to shake his hand. 

“I’m (Y/n),” you introduce yourself. 

Mingi hums. 

“That’s a really pretty name.”

You can feel your cheeks get warm. 

“O-oh, thank you.” 

It’s quiet for a few moments before Mingi speaks again. 

“Okay, well I’m gonna go downstairs to get the masterkey really quick. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!” he jokes, beginning to walk back down the hallway. 

“I’ll try,” you laugh nervously, thinking about the day you’ve had. 

If anything else goes wrong today, you don’t think you’ll have the willpower to keep living. 

You’re only waiting for a few minutes before you can spot Mingi coming back down the hall. 

Damn he’s quick.

“Got it!” Mingi says cheerfully, waving a small key in the air. 

You smile back, feeling relieved that you can finally get inside your apartment. 

He stops in front of your door, pushing the key inside the lock and wriggling it around a few times before you can hear the familiar click of the lock. Letting out a small “aha”, Mingi twists the doorknob and sure enough, the door to your apartment opens. 

You might actually cry tears of happiness. 

“Ma’am,” Mingi says in a fake posh accent, gesturing with his hand for you to go inside. 

You let out a small laugh and walk inside. Mingi remains outside of your door. 

“Well, thank you so much Mingi,” you say earnestly. “I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t showed up at the right time. My knight in shining armor,” you joke. 

Mingi blushes furiously, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his head and looking off to the side. 

“It’s nothing,” he says. “I’m just glad everything worked out.” 

You nod, unsure of what to say next. 

Mingi’s head suddenly snaps to the side, looking at something down the hallway, almost as if he heard something. You frown. You didn’t hear anything. 

“Well, it looks like I have to get going,” he begins. 

You nod. 

“Better get back before the big boss gets mad at you for slacking off, huh?”

You say it as a joke, but Mingi only lets out a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

“Um,” you’re not quite sure what to say. “Okay, well thanks again Mingi, I really do appreciate it.” You slowly begin to shut the door.

“Anytime,” he sends you a small wave and bright smile, turning to walk down the hallway as you finally shut the door. 

You don’t spend too much time thinking about Mingi’s strange behavior at the end, chalking it up to him having a really strict boss. Plus, you honestly can’t wait to change into your pajamas and knock out. 

Dropping your purse on your couch, you make your way to your room and quickly change into your pj’s before flinging yourself onto your bed. 

You hug the stuffed bear on your bed closely, feeling the tension and stress from your body slowly begin to fade away as your body succumbs to sleep. 

-

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. 

The lack of light coming in from outside lets you know that it’s dark, leaving you to assume it’s either really late or really early. 

You roll back over, fully intending on returning to dreamland when the sound of hushed arguing catches your attention. 

You groan, assuming it’s your neighbors who are always going at it. Seriously, if they argue this much, they should just break up. Arguing that much can’t be healthy for anyone. 

You’ve just grabbed onto your pillow, intending on using it to block out the voices, when you suddenly realize that it’s only male voices you can hear. Sitting up, you strain your ears to try and catch more of what they’re saying. 

You feel yourself freeze when you realize that the voices are coming from your living room. 

You sit frozen on your bed for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. 

Did these people break into your apartment? What are they doing here? What are they going to do to you? 

Reaching out blindly, you attempt to locate your phone, hoping you can at least call the police before the robbers can reach you. Pressing the power button, your heart drops when it doesn’t turn on. In your excitement to knock out, you never put it to charge and now it’s dead. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to think of a course of action. 

Slowly getting out of bed, you reach under the bed to grab the metal bat that you keep in case of emergencies. Maybe, if the robbers don’t have any weapons, you can either scare them off or hurt them enough to grab the home phone sitting on your kitchen counter and call the police. 

You cautiously make your way to the door of your bedroom, letting out a shaky breath before slowly twisting the doorknob. You gently push the door open, thanking whatever gods are out there that it doesn’t make any noise. 

Now that the door is open, you can hear the voices more clearly. 

“Why would you show yourself to her?” 

“What did you want me to do? She was having the worst day, I wasn’t gonna sit back and watch her suffer.” The voice sounds oddly familiar.

Someone else hums. 

“Don’t even say anything,” the original voice whispers angrily. “You should have never interfered earlier.” 

“She was about to get hit by a car, hyung! What did you want me to do, let it happen? Then we would be back to square one all over again.” 

It’s a different voice this time, slightly higher in pitch. 

They’re talking about what happened to you earlier. 

Who the fuck are these people? 

You arrive at the corner of the hallway, gripping your bat impossibly tight and peeking around the corner. 

From what you can see, there’s a few men standing in your living room. One with dark blue hair sits on your couch facing the kitchen, another stands with his back to the hallway where you stand, and there seems to be someone standing in front of him.

You can’t help but let out a small gasp when you realize the man standing with his back facing you has short pink hair. 

Mingi.

All three men whip their heads around. 

They stare at you wide-eyed, including Mingi. 

You come out from behind the corner and point your bat at the men. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you demand. “And why the fuck are you in my apartment?”

Your eyes dart around, trying to keep an eye on every person in the room. Your heart pounds in your chest and your hands are sweaty, but you’ll be damned if you go out without a fight. 

Mingi takes a step forward, his hands raised slightly. 

“(Y/n),” he starts.

He stops when you take a step backward. 

“Mingi, if that’s even your goddam name,” you spit. You miss the way all three men flinch slightly. “What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” 

“Was helping me earlier just a plot to figure out where I live? Are you gonna kill me?” you question.

A crestfallen look falls on Mingi’s face. A small part of you almost wants to feel bad. Almost. 

“No, not at all,” he defends. “Look, it’s kind of complicated, but I can explain. I just need you to put the bat down.” His eyes dart to the metal bat you have a death grip on.

You let out a harsh laugh. 

“No fucking way. I don’t care who the hell you are, I need you and your friends to get out right now before I call the cops.” You demand. 

“The cops aren’t going to help you sweetheart,” a voice comes from behind you. 

You let out a scream, turning around and blindly swinging your bat. It hits something hard.

“OW!” 

A man with long hair that’s black and silver hunches over in front of you, clutching his stomach. You stare wide-eyed. 

There’s more of them.

And where the fuck are they coming from?

“(Y/n),” someone else says your name. You whip back around, moving backward towards the wall and making sure the men don’t leave your sight. You keep the bat pointed at them. 

The man with dark blue hair siting on the couch is standing now, and he looks at you with wide eyes as well. 

“Please, just put the bat down and we can explain everything to you.”

You shake your head vehemently. 

“You guys broke into my fucking apartment and you want me to calm down?” You laugh incredulously. “Are you guys fucking insane?”

You miss the way the shorter male standing next to Mingi has disappeared. 

Mingi frowns, looking genuinely saddened. 

“I’m really sorry we have to do this.”

You furrow your eyebrows, now genuinely concerned he’s going to murder you. 

“What are you-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence when you feel fingers touch your temple and you black out. 

-

“What did you do?” 

“What we had to! She already managed to hit Wooyoung and she was obviously freaking out so we had to calm her down!”

Someone snickers. 

“Shut up Yeosang.”

“C’mon, you’re telling me it’s a bat that took you out?”

“She has a good swing! You should try getting a metal bat swung directly at your stomach and see how you feel.”

You let out a soft groan at the voices that surround you. They’re too loud.

You’re laying on something soft and it feels familiar as well. 

Am I dead?

“You’re not dead.” 

Your eyes shoot open. 

Sitting up, you groan at the light that shines harshly into your room and shut your eyes. Opening them softly, you glance around. You’re definitely in your room, which is a relief. 

But the eight bodies that surround you bring anything but relief. 

You tense up, your hands gripping at the sheets. 

You can feel tears beginning to blur your vision and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper. 

Someone lets out a sad noise. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” a deep voice comes from your right side. 

You look over to see who said that. Familiar brown eyes stare deeply into your own, and the soft pink hair instantly allows you to recognize who just spoke. 

“How can I trust you Mingi?” 

A heartbroken expression falls over his face and he looks unsure of what to say. 

“He’s right sweetheart,” another voice speaks up. “We’re not going to hurt you.” This time it’s another tall man who speaks. He has peach colored hair. His eyes bore into yours, and you feel slightly unnerved at the raw honesty that comes across. 

You don’t say anything, opting to take a glance at all the men who are spread across your room. 

A shorter man who stands closest to your bed sighs and takes a step forward. 

“This isn’t how we wanted to meet, so please accept our deepest apologies for scaring you,” the man begins. 

“We’re your guardian angels.”

-

The man, Hongjoong, had explained to you that they were in fact your guardian angels. 

Typically, humans only had one guardian angel, he had explained, but you were assigned eight. 

Guardian angels were also never, under any circumstances, to reveal themselves to their humans, but some people, Hongjoong glared at the man sitting at your desk with dark blue hair as well as Mingi, had broken these rules. 

Which is why you were currently able to see all of them. 

“How do I even know you’re telling me the truth?” You questioned. This entire situation was absolutely insane and you could barely wrap your head around any of the information that was just given to you. 

“Well, we’ve been watching over you your whole life,” the blue haired male spoke up. “Ask us anything that no one else knows and we can answer it.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about different things throughout your life that no one knew about you. 

“When I was in middle school and I asked out that boy a year ahead of me, what did he say?”

There’s no way they could know the answer to this. This is literally something I’ve never told anyone and I intend on taking it with me to my grave. 

“He said no because you reminded him of his mom and that grossed him out.” 

You stare wide-eyed at the man with medium length blonde hair that sat in the middle of your floor. 

What the fuck?

“Don’t worry, you honestly dodged a bullet with that one,” another male with cherry red hair shook his head. “You know that guy ended up marrying his first cousin?” The man snorted. 

You had no words. 

You had never told anyone that secret because it embarrassed you so much, but clearly, the men in front of you knew it. 

Maybe they’re telling the truth.

“Of course we’re telling the truth, we’re angels.” 

The man with two-toned hair speaks up. 

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“Did you just read my thoughts?” 

He shrugs. 

“They’re very loud.”

You stare at him. 

“Do you want me to hit you with my bat again?”

The man shudders. 

“Please, don’t.”

Another voice speaks up. 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” the man with peach hair pipes in. 

You shrug. 

“I don’t really have any reason to doubt you, I guess.” You hesitate before saying your next words. “Plus, I don’t know what it is, but you guys have this vibe,” you gesture your hand vaguely. 

“It feels...safe?” You shrug, looking down at the spare thread you’ve been messing with since you woke up. “I felt it when I met Mingi earlier, but I didn’t know what to think about it.” 

You miss the way Mingi’s ears turn red. 

An awkward silence falls across the room. 

“Well,” another man, the one who stands next to Hongjoong, begins to speak. “Now that that’s done, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Seonghwa,” he sends you a beautiful smile. 

“I’m Hongjoong, as you already know,” Hongjoong says and you nod. 

“My name’s Yunho,” the man with peach hair speaks up. 

“I’m San,” the man with dark blue hair pipes up, sending you a bright, dimpled smile. You can’t help but send him a small smile back. 

“I’m Yeosang,” the blonde one on your floor gives you a small nod of acknowledgement.

“I’m Wooyoung!” Two-toned hair chirps loudly. You can’t help but side-eye him slightly. “What?” he cries. 

“Please don’t sneak up on me if you don’t want me to hit you again,” you warn. 

A few snickers sound throughout the room. 

“I’m Jongho,” the one with cherry hair tells you. 

Your eyes land on the last man who sits closest to you. 

“I’m Mingi,” he says. “But, you already know that.” 

You nod. He still seems a little bit sad. 

You hesitate, but reach out to softly grab his hand that rests on your bed. 

“Thank you for your help earlier,” you start. “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first.” 

You glance around the room. 

“But, you guys have to understand that this whole situation is kind of crazy.” 

Seonghwa nods. 

“We understand, and we’re sorry for scaring you so much.” He nods his head toward Mingi and San. “But those two broke one of the most important rules that guardian angels must follow.” 

You nod, understanding what Seonghwa’s saying. 

“Wait,” your eyebrows furrow. “I know Mingi broke the rule when he helped me get back inside my apartment, but what did San do?” 

You look at him as he crosses his arms and pouts, reminding you of a scolded child. 

“He’s the one that pulled you out of the street yesterday before the car could hit you,” Wooyoung explains. 

Your eyes widen and you sit up even further. 

“So I was right!” you exclaim. 

Mingi raises a brow.

“I knew I felt someone grab my hands and pull me forward, but the lady who helped me said there was no one there!” You pout slightly. “I thought I was going crazy for a second.” 

You look over at San. 

“Thank you for saving my life,” you tell him sincerely.

San throws his hands up in the air. 

“See? At least she’s grateful for what I did!” 

Yeosang rolls his eyes. 

“Of course she is, you idiot, she would’ve been dead if you hadn’t.” 

This time, you don’t miss the way they all seem to wince at Yeosang’s words.

You frown. 

“Yeah, actually,” you begin. “If you guys are my guardian angels, how come I almost died yesterday?” You look at them expectantly. “Isn’t the whole point of you guys being here to like, keep me alive?”

They avoid your eyes.

“We were a little...preoccupied,” Hongjoong admits. 

You click your tongue. 

“Well, at least San was there for me.” 

You send a grateful smile to him, which he returns with slightly red cheeks. 

“Hey!” Mingi whines. “I helped you too!”

You roll your eyes. 

“Yes you did, you big baby, but San literally saved my life,” you emphasize. 

“And I didn’t?” Mingi asks, offended. “What if I never showed up? You would’ve had to sleep on the streets and who knows what would’ve happened then?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing yourself back on your bed. 

“I didn’t know angels were this dramatic!”

Jongho lets out a laugh. 

“The most,” he admits. 

The sound of your stomach rumbling has a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. 

“You haven’t eaten?” Yunho furrows his eyebrows.

“Mmmm, not since breakfast yesterday, I think,” you admit. 

Wooyoung jumps out of his chair. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make you the best meal you’ve ever had,” he sends you a small wink before heading out of your room towards the kitchen. 

“He’s not going to burn my apartment down right?” You ask worriedly.

Hongjoong shakes his head. 

“No, Wooyoung’s actually a really good cook,” he reassures you. 

“Plus,” San says. “You have seven angels here to protect you if anything!”

You’re not sure if that makes you feel any better. 

- 

As it turns out, Hongjoong was right, and Wooyoung is an excellent cook. In a span of 20 minutes, he’s managed to make you an omelet that looks like it came straight out of a Studio Ghibli movie, along with some oatmeal, fresh fruit, and what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice. 

“Wow,” you gape at the food. 

Wooyoung motions for you to sit at the table. 

“It was meant for you to eat, not just stare at.”

You happily oblige, sitting down at the table and bringing up the fork to your mouth, only to pause when you realize no one else has food. 

“We don’t have to eat,” Seonghwa explains, reading your mind. “We can if we want to, but it’s not necessary for us to survive.”

You nod, feeling a little less guilty about eating in front of them. 

Letting out a satisfied hum at the taste of the food, you send Wooyoung a thumbs-up. He smiles brightly. 

“So,” you start, swallowing your food and taking a quick sip of your juice. “Now that I’ve met you guys and I know you exist, are you going to go back to being invisible to me?” 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa share a look. 

“Not exactly,” Hongjoong says. 

You raise an eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. 

“Now that you know we exist, we can’t exactly just disappear,” he elaborates. “It’s one of the reasons guardian angels aren’t meant to reveal themselves to their humans.” 

You nod slowly. 

“So, humans just never find out they have a guardian angel? Like, ever?”

Jongho mutters something under his breath. Yunho kicks his leg under the table.

“Sorry, what was that?” You ask, looking at him. 

He avoids your gaze. 

A tense silence falls over the table. 

You notice how Mingi shakes his leg anxiously. San taps his fingers on the table and Yunho avoids your gaze. 

You narrow your eyes at them. 

“There’s something you guys aren’t telling me.” It’s not a question. 

“I don’t think now is the best time to talk about this-” Hongjoong starts. 

“Humans only find out about their guardian angels when their time is near,” Wooyoung says calmly. 

Hongjoong glares at him. Wooyoung only shrugs. 

“What? She was bound to find out eventually.” 

“Their time?” You look around at the men that sit at your table. “Like, when they’re about to die?”

Yeosang nods. 

You let out a small “oh”, looking down at the unfinished food that stares at you.

It’s silent as you think about the information they’ve just given you. 

“The car,” you swallow. “The car that almost hit me yesterday. Was it,” you almost can’t get the words out. “Was it supposed to hit me?”

Your question comes out in a whisper. 

No one responds, but when you look up, they all fix you with a sad look.

You nod.

“Okay.” 

You push your plate away from you. 

You don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingi whispers from your left side. 

His large hand gently encompasses yours. You nod, refusing to look him in the eyes. 

“But we’re not going to let you die.” 

You look up at San’s determined voice, barely able to see him through your misty eyes. 

“What?”

“We’re not letting you die,” he says firmly. “It’s not your time.” 

You shake your head. 

“I’m pretty sure if the universe decides it’s my time, then it’s my time,” you reply. You’re not sure if you’re saying it to convince them, or yourself. 

“I can’t just avoid fate.”

Hongjoong sighs. 

“San’s right.” 

You send him a questioning look. 

“We’re your guardian angels. We’re not going to let you die.” 

“Screw what the universe says,” Yeosang chimes in. 

You stare at them incredulously. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Look,” Yunho starts. “We’ve been thinking about it, and we’re pretty sure the universe is wrong about it being your time. We’ve been around for centuries, usually we have a good sense of when it’s going to be someone’s time and when it’s not.”

“And we don’t get that feeling with you,” Jongho continues for him. “We never have.”

“So, we’re going to do our best to make sure you stay out of harms way,” Yeosang finishes.

Your throat feels constricted and you can barely see through all the tears that have welled up in your eyes. 

“You guys would do all that for me?” You choke out. 

Mingi squeezes your hand. 

“Of course. We’re not your guardian angels for nothing.”

You sniffle, looking down at your lap and bringing up your other hand to wipe at your eyes. 

“Thank you guys,” you tell them sincerely. 

“Anything for you,” Seonghwa smiles softly. 

-

After the conversation at breakfast, the nine of you come up with a vague plan Wooyoung affectionally dubbed “Keeping Our Human Alive”. Despite the look you had given him, you had to admit, it made you laugh.

You all agreed it would be best for at least one of them to accompany you every day, more if any of them felt like tagging along. 

“That way,” Hongjoong explained, “if anything unexpected happens, at least one of us will be able to protect you.” 

You agreed.

“What about when I go to work and stuff?” You had questioned. “Won’t it be weird if there’s a different guy following me around every day?”

Yunho shook his head. 

“Just because you can see us doesn’t mean everyone else can see us too. We can make ourselves visible to other people besides our assigned human if we want,” he explained. 

“Oh, okay. Well, that certainly makes this easier then.” 

“What would you prefer for us to do?” Questioned San. “Do you want us to remain invisible all the time or only at work?”

You think it over for a minute before shrugging.

“Honestly, whatever’s most comfortable for all of you. I would prefer if at work you guys are invisible, but while we’re in public and stuff, whatever you guys feel comfortable with is fine by me.”

At your answer, they all give you fond looks which makes your face feel slightly warm. Clearing your throat, you continue.

“Also, I was thinking about it and if you guys are going to be with me 24/7 now, we need some ground rules.”

Jongho chuckled.

“Technically, we’ve always been here, you’ve just barely found out.”

You realize he’s right, and the memories of every single embarrassing thing that you’ve ever done in the privacy of your own home comes rushing back to you.

“Well, yeah, now that I know you guys are here,” you stumble over your words slightly. “Privacy is really big for me. I don’t have many rules, but I just ask that you guys don’t show up unannounced or else that might really freak me out, and please, if you’re going to come into my room, just knock.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement.

“And,” you continue, “no more reading my thoughts please.”

Only a few of them nod, which makes you grow slightly concerned.

“Is that a problem?” You ask, a slight edge to your voice.

“Not at all,” Seonghwa reassures.

“It’s just that we do get a little concerned for when you’re alone. Being aware of your thoughts helps us decide if you need our help at that moment or not,” Hongjoong explains.

You nod.

“I get that, but if at least one of you is going to be by my side every single day from now on, I really don’t think there’s any need for you to read my thoughts.”

You continue.

“Plus, it’s really just about privacy for me. I don’t really feel comfortable with you guys having access to every single thought in my head, no matter how big or small.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa both nod.

“We understand. And we’ll do our best to respect your boundaries.”

“Thank you guys,” you send them a small smile.

“Plus, if I need any help or anything, I’ll just yell out ‘bat’ really loud,” you joke, referring to the bruise you might’ve left on Wooyoung’s stomach.

Everyone laughs except for him.

“Not funny,” he pouts.

You let out a small giggle, patting him lightly on the arm. 

“You did kind of deserve it, my friend.”

Clapping your hands together, you let out a deep exhale. 

“Now that that’s all settled, I need to go grocery shopping. All of you are more than welcome to come.” 

A few of them look very excited, which both excites you and makes you slightly nervous. 

“Thank you for the invitation,” Hongjoong starts. “But Seonghwa and I will have to pass this time.”

You pout slightly. 

“Aw man.” 

“Trust me,” Seonghwa starts. “We would love to go on our first official errand run with you, little one, but we have some business to deal with upstairs.” 

He uses his index finger to point up and you look up as well.

Upstairs? 

“Ohhhh, you mean, like, heaven and all that,” you laugh nervously at your lack of understanding. 

The two men nod. 

“But don’t worry, we should be back by the end of the day,” Hongjoong reassures you. 

“Don’t worry guys,” Mingi slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “We’ve got this.” 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stare at the male by your side, slightly unamused. 

“That’s what we’re scared of.”

-

It’s officially been about a week since your near death experience and finding out about your guardian angels. 

While having all of them around had certainly been awkward at first, you’ve all slowly begun to fall into a routine. Sometimes, you feel as though you’ve known them your whole life. 

Which, to a certain extent, you kind of have. 

Something about having them around just makes you feel incredibly safe and warm inside. Not to mention the slight butterflies you’ve been experiencing around them, but you’re quick to try and cage them as soon as they appear. 

Wooyoung and Seonghwa have taken it upon themselves to cook most of the meals for the nine of you. Every day when you come home from work, you can always count on a warm, freshly cooked meal to be waiting on the table for you. 

“You’re kind of like my house husbands,” you joked to them one time. 

Seonghwa blushed, while Wooyoung had blown you a kiss. 

“Anything for you sweetheart.”

Yunho and Mingi are the two that typically accompany you to work, although sometimes Jongho will tag along if he doesn’t have anything else to do. Despite the tall men’s playful personalities, they were both incredibly smart and helped you with your work whenever you felt particularly stressed out. 

San was certainly one of the more playful angels, you had noticed. 

Although all of them were fun to be around, San was always the first to notice when your mood wasn’t the best, and he was the best at comforting you after a long day. A bad day at work usually ended with San waiting for you with open arms as soon as you walked through the door for some cuddles and quiet time. 

When Wooyoung and Mingi had found out about this little routine, they both immediately demanded to be allowed into the “cuddle time” as they called it.

Jongho and Yeosang were the two individuals who you enjoyed spending some quiet time with. The three of you would usually wind down together with some tea and some books or a show. Although they were a little more reserved than the others, you still genuinely enjoyed your time with both of them.

But they certainly had their moments where they could be just as chaotic as the others. 

Exhibit A was the day you walked into your apartment to see Yeosang and Yunho standing in your kitchen covered in flour. 

“What happened?” you had asked, absolutely astounded by the amount of flour that somehow managed to cover every inch of your kitchen. You didn’t even think you had that much flour to begin with. 

The two of them sheepishly admitted that they were trying to bake some cookies, but things had gotten out of hand. 

Clicking your tongue, you walked over to the roll of paper towels to begin cleaning up. 

“What am I going to do with you guys-”

You had just turned around when the feeling of something soft and powdery hit your face. You sputtered, staring wide-eyed at the two angels. Yunho looked at you and then turned to Yeosang, who avoided your eyes. 

What followed next was a flour fight that resulted in a very long clean-up shift.

There was also the time you found out Jongho literally had the voice of an angel. 

The two of you were headed to your local plant store to look for some new plants to decorate your apartment with when one of your favorite songs came on the radio. 

Turning the volume up, you began singing along softly as did Jongho. As the song continued, his voice grew louder, and when the two of you reached a red light, you were unable to do anything except stare at him slack-jawed at the voice that was coming out of him. Only the sound of the car behind you honking was able to shake you out of your stupor.

Now, you guys have little karaoke parties in your car when the two of you are alone.

The only angel you had yet to spend a lot of time with, however, was Hongjoong. 

The man always seemed to be busy, as he was hardly ever in your actual apartment. Most mornings when you woke up, he was gone and he wouldn’t show up until the evenings. 

You would be lying if you said the hushed arguments he would have with some of the others didn’t concern you. They always occurred at night, when they assumed you were fast asleep. And they always revolved around the same thing. 

“She’s not the exact same, and that’s okay, but you guys can’t keep expecting her to be the same as our (Y/n).” You heard Hongjoong say one night.

You had been unable to fall back asleep after that.

Today, though, you really needed to go to the post office, and Hongjoong was the only angel available to accompany you. 

You stood awkwardly at the end of your table where Hongjoong sat using your laptop to do something. 

“Uh,” you clear your throat. “Hongjoong?”

He looks up a little startled. 

“(Y/n),” he acknowledges. “Is everything okay?” He looks at you concerned. 

“Yeah everything’s fine!” You reassure him. 

“I just need to run a quick errand and the others are all busy so I was wondering if you could go with me,” you trail off.

God this is awkward. 

To your surprise, although you really shouldn’t be, he nods his head quickly.

“Yeah of course. We can go now, if you’re ready?”

“Cool, let me just grab my bag and we can get going!” You rush to your room to grab your bag before walking back to the front door where Hongjoong already waits for you. 

The two of you agree to make the short walk to the post office, commenting on how the nice weather is today. 

Exiting through the front gates of your apartment, you two begin walking down the sidewalk shoulder to shoulder in silence. 

“So is-”

“I wanted-”

The two of you start talking at the same time. 

You both let out a laugh and you can feel your shoulders relax a bit. 

“Go ahead,” you allow Hongjoong to speak first. 

He takes a deep breath.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been acting lately,” he says as he stares into your eyes. 

You have to admit, that’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been really distant and pre-occupied lately,” Hongjoong continues. “And I know you’ve noticed, so I want to sincerely apologize. There’s been a lot of stuff I’ve been dealing with and I don’t want you to think I don’t like this,” he gestures between the two of you, “thing we have going on.”

You shake your head. 

“No, please don’t feel like you have to apologize Hongjoong. To be completely honest, I have no clue what it is you guys have to deal with in the first place, but I’m really grateful you’ve all gone out of your way to help me.” 

You let out a small, sad laugh. 

“If I’m being honest, I don’t really get why you guys are helping me in the first place. I’m sure you’ve all had hundreds of different assigned humans throughout your existence, so I’m nothing special.” 

Hongjoong stops abruptly and turns to face you. 

“That’s not true,” he says firmly. The serious expression on his face has you taken aback. 

“What?”

“You said you’re nothing special. That’s not true.”

Hongjoong sighs and grabs both of your hands. 

“Look, it’s complicated to explain, and I will tell you, but we agreed we all wanted to tell you together. So, if you’re okay with waiting, I can tell you everything that’s been going on as soon as we get back to your apartment.” 

You would be lying if you said his words don’t scare you a little bit. 

“It’s okay Hongjoong, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you reassure him, softly running your fingers over his knuckles. 

He shakes his head. 

“I- We all want to tell you, and you deserve to know the truth.” 

You nod your head. 

“Okay. Back at my apartment it is then,” you send him a small smile, which he returns. 

“Before we head to the post office,” you start. “Do you want to visit my favorite cafe with me?” 

Hongjoong smiles softly at you. 

“I would love to.” 

You guys continue walking down the few blocks and after a few minutes, you both stand at the stoplight that sits across from the cafe. You and Hongjoong laugh at the stories you tell him about the antics Yunho and Mingi get up to when you’re at work. The light turns green, and you begin to cross the street. 

“I’m telling you, I just told them about this lady in my office who’s always getting on my nerves and they made it their mission to inconvenience her in every way possible!” You exclaim. 

Hongjoong lets out a hearty laugh and you smile widely at how relaxed he looks. 

Just as your about to continue your story, you notice the wind blowing your letter out of your purse. 

Cursing, you tell Hongjoong to wait on the sidewalk while you run quickly after the paper. The letter lands in the middle of crosswalk and you’ve just barely managed to pick it up when the sound of someone yelling your name makes you whip around. 

Coming towards you at a terrifying speed is a car. 

You stand frozen in the middle of street, unable to move your feet. 

You barely manage to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s terrified face when you feel your body get thrown back, and everything turns black. 

-

You stand in a green field. 

The scenery is absolutely gorgeous and you can feel the warm sun and cool breeze on your skin. 

Looking around, you notice a large, crystal blue lake in the distance. Your legs begin to take you in that direction on their own accord.

You reach the lake and crouch down, slightly dipping your hand in the cool water. Soft ripples make their way across the surface of the water and you can’t help but feel completely at ease in this place.

Whatever this place is.

As you continue staring down into the water, you notice your reflection seems to look different.

The you staring back has much longer hair than you currently have, and the clothes your reflection wears is older, looking like they come from an early Victorian age.

You tilt your head to the side and notice that your reflection’s head doesn’t move.

A voice sounds out through your mind.

“You need to go back.”

“Go back?” You whisper aloud.

Your reflection nods.

“They need you.”

Other you doesn’t specify who you two are talking about, but deep down, you think you already know the answer.

Your reflection sends you a gentle smile before disappearing. You watch as the water returns to its calm state before gently pushing yourself back up to your feet.

You take one last look around the field you’re in, before closing your eyes.

-

The first thing you notice is how dark it is.

You can hear the sounds of people talking and crying around you, and you can feel hands softly grabbing your body, but you’re unable to open your eyes or move.

“Please,” someone whispers over your body.

“Please don’t leave us again.”

You lose consciousness once again.

-

The next time you wake up, your entire body hurts.

You let out a soft groan, slowly opening your eyes and allowing them to adjust to the soft light of your lamp.

Something heavy rests near your right hand, and turning your head slightly, you can see a head of familiar pink hear laying down next to you.

Using what little strength you have in your body, you raise your hand and gently rest it on Mingi’s head. Softly, you run your fingers through the short strands on his head.

He makes an inaudible noise and turns his head over so that you can now see his face. As you continue stroking his head, his eyes flutter open. He looks a little bit confused for a few seconds before his body is shooting up and he stares at you shocked.

“(Y/n),” he whispers softly.

“Hi Mingi,” you reply.

You watch as tears well up in his eyes and he throws himself on top of you, mindful to not rest his entire body weight on you. You can hear footsteps rushing towards your room before your bedroom door is being slammed open.

You can barely see over Mingi’s broad back that covers your frame, but you already know who it is.

As Mingi releases you, you attempt to sit up, only to stop and hiss in pain when jolts of pain shoot up your back.

“Be careful, little one,” Seonghwa says, moving forward to help adjust some pillows behind you.

You thank him and take a moment to look around at each of the men that surrounds your bed. You notice the dark circles under their eyes and the way their skin seems to lack it’s normal glow.

“You guys look worse than I feel,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Yeosang frowns.

“You’ve been out for 4 days, sunflower.”

You blink harshly.

“Four days?”

Jongho nods.

“The worst four days of our entire existence,” he says.

You look down at the blanket that rests on your lap.

“I’m sorry.”

You’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No I’m sorry.”

It’s Hongjoong who speaks.

He comes to your side, falling onto his knees beside your bed and taking your hand into his. He leans down to rest his forehead against your hand.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he cries.

“I should’ve known. I should’ve seen the car coming, I should’ve moved faster, I should’ve gotten you out of the way-” he sobs.

“No, Hongjoong,” you shake your head. “There’s nothing you could’ve done, the car came out of nowhere and it was too fast.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Yunho whispers.

“We swore to never let you pass before your time again.”

You can’t help the confused look you give them, but then, you remember the reflection you saw in the lake.

How the person looked just like you, but from a different era.

The arguments you heard Hongjoong have with the others.

Softly resting your palm on Hongjoong’s tear stained face, you speak.

“I need you guys to explain everything to me.”

-

All nine of you sit in your living room.

The boys helped you get settled on the couch, where you sit with San and Wooyoung flanking both of your sides. Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit across from you three while Mingi sits on the floor next to your legs. Yunho sits to the right of San and Yeosang and Jongho remain standing, but still close.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve met you,” Hongjoong begins.

“We’ve been very lucky to have met you almost every single time you’ve been reborn.”

Yeosang continues.

“The first time we met you was an accident. You happened to stumble upon me when I was helping a wounded human at the time. Soon after, I introduced you to the others.”

“But I thought the only time humans could see a guardian angel was when they were close to death?” You questioned.

Jongho nods sadly.

“You passed away shortly after meeting the rest of us.”

“In almost every single life where you’ve been reborn,” Wooyoung explains.

“We’ve managed to find you, but we’ve never been granted the luxury of time.”

You softly run your fingers through his hair, hearing the tremble of his voice as he speaks.

“The last two times that you’ve been born, we’ve been fortunate enough to be your guardian angels,” Seonghwa smiles.

“But in your last life, you passed away prematurely,” San says.

You turn your head towards him.

“A freak accident that we weren’t able to save you from.”

Mingi turns around to look up at you from where he rests by your legs.

“We failed you,” he whispers sadly.

You shake your head.

“You guys didn’t fail me. Not then, and not now. Just because you guys are angels doesn’t mean you can control everything that happens.”

“Sometimes,” you take a deep breath. “Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can’t always protect the ones you love.”

“But we have to,” Hongjoong says, looking you in the eye. “Not only is that our job, but for selfish reasons too.”

He looks down at his hands.

“We couldn’t take watching you die another time.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“How am I still here then?”

Hongjoong looks back up at you.

“We made a deal.”

You send him a questioning look.

“A deal?”

All the men surrounding you nod.

“What kind of deal?” You prod, noticing how they seem to hesitate to give you more details.

“Our life in exchange for yours.”

You inhale sharply, the sudden movement causing pain to shoot up your back. Wooyoung and San attempt to soothe your pain, but your mind is only focused on the information they just gave you.

“What?”

“We made a deal with God,” Yunho starts. “Our status in heaven as guardian angels, in exchange for the guarantee that you would live a full life.”

“What?” you say breathlessly. “Why, why would you guys do that?”

“Because we’re selfish,” Jongho says, looking at you with such tenderness you’re unsure of what to do with yourself.

“And we don’t care about being angels or having those powers and helping others if it means we have to live in a world without you in it,” Mingi finishes.

Tears begin to well up and spill out of your eyes before you can stop them. San and Wooyoung cuddle impossibly closer to you, hugging you tightly while the others watch on with misty eyes.

“Thank you,” you sob into your hands. “Thank you.”

They all smile.

-

It’s been about a month since you almost (should’ve) died.

In that month, the ex-angels did their best to help you recover from your injuries, although they certainly complained about no longer having healing powers to help stop you from being pain.

“Welcome to the life of being a human,” you rolled your eyes.

“This is lame, maybe we should’ve stayed as angels,” Wooyoung muttered.

You smacked him on the chest, ignoring his yelp and complaints.

“Don’t make me bring out the bat again,” you warned.

After you were fully recovered, you focused on helping the boys adjust to their new lives as humans.

“Why do we have to walk everywhere?” Mingi groaned, dragging his feet behind you.

You rolled your eyes.

He’s just like a little kid.

“Because my car can only fit four of you, but all eight of you decided to accompany me to the store,” you remind him.

He says nothing, but you could still hear his grumbling.

As they’ve slowly adjusted to human life, the nine of you have fallen into a smooth routine that’s oddly domestic.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa continue to cook the meals for you guys, and you all make an effort to eat at least one meal together a day.

Seeing as most of them aren’t morning people, you typically opt to eat dinner together instead.

You’ve also decided to introduce them to your favorite bookstore.

“How ironic,” you muse, walking hand in hand with San and Yunho as you all approach the quaint shop.

“What is, sunflower?” Yeosang questions.

“This bookstore is the whole reason I met you guys in the first place,” you give San’s hand a small squeeze.

He squeezes it back three times.

Later that night, when you’ve all returned home, you guys decide to have a small movie night.

After arguing over what movie to watch, Jongho insisted on watching a horror movie, which Mingi complained about loudly.

Not that it mattered, most everyone ended up falling asleep by the time the film was halfway over, including yourself.

You could hear the sound of someone moving around quietly in the living room and turned your head to the side, burying your face deeper into Mingi’s chest. The feeling of a blanket being laid over the two of you was welcomed.

You felt someone leave a soft kiss on the side of your head.

“Goodnight my love,” Hongjoong whispered softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You hummed in reply, falling back asleep perfectly content and safe in the presence of your lovers.

                                        ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: my fic to celebrate hitting 50 followers, you guys are insane, i love you all so much and i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

[genderqueerdykes]

how do you divorce your fears and distrust of men and your want to transition?

ive read a lot of your posts about anti-transmasculinity, and it all really struck a chord with me. ive been questioning whether or not i wanted to transition cause i was terrified i wouldnt be able to be soft or sensitive, or be able to cry and be empathetic. it was silly, because i never got that from trans men before i started self-harming with terf rhetoric, but now im petrified of becoming an angry abuser. and admittedly, a lot of the stuff regarding physical appearence got to me, i dont really think id be a pretty guy and its scary. though its not lost on me that the number one thing they always go to to dissuade trans men and mascs is physical appearence because as someone whis afab, your physical appearence seems to be the most important thing to people.

i keep going in circles and wondering if maybe im just a woman. im pretty femme so it sounds like its easier, i even try to compensate by trying to call myself a fem-aligned identity like demigirl or something. but the thing is i dont think ive ever felt like a girl. i dont feel like a boy either, but boyhood feels like a warm light that i desperately want to be a part of— but it seems like people are so quick to view you as a monster or a traitor if you do …. its scary. im sorry if any of this came off as weird. im just very lost.

good question!

the best way to do this is to look at it like this. constantly associating men with danger shows everyone that men cannot get better, and that men will always be dangerous and predatory. saying "men are just like that" makes it so they cannot improve, and that if a man does not behave that way, responding like 'wow, he's not like other men!' we're implying that men are always bad and pieces of shit and it's very rare for them to not be rude, mean, aggressive, etc. we're creating this cage that we place men and mascs inside of. it's not nature. it's not biology. it's not inherent or innate. it's a human invention, a cage of our own design.

men are not inherently abusive. a lot of men have been abused, themselves, and become victimized as opposed to abusive. others don't experience this at all. men are not going to inherently torture, abuse, or harm those around them. men having emotions around others is not an issue. men existing around others is not bad. it's okay to have that fear, but you're not destined to be abusive because you are or might be a man. it's not an inherent thing. men get abused too. many men are victims of abuse. many men are submissive and passive. it's not an inherent part of manhood

a lot of fear is placed on to men's shoulders from the moment they become or even realize they are one. the fear to be masculine and manly enough not to be degraded. the fear that if you don't work hard enough you won't be taking seriously. the fear of being harmed if you're too feminine or don't pass. the fear of people being rude or mean to you if you're too nice, friendly, dress a certain way, and so on. we harass men who don't conform to cisheteronormative manhood and hurt them if they aren't "manly" enough. is it any wonder men come out of this damaged, hurt and confused?

it's not your fault, you're responding to a complex issue that's not easy to grapple with. it's okay to be lost and confused, but it's also okay to be a man. men aren't inherently violent, shitty, dangerous, or predators. men are inherently men. that's it. i hope you feel a bit better soon, feel free to ask any more questions you may have! take care!

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card - What is you Persona?

Today we're going to look at your persona, or as the definition goes:

"an individual's social facade or front that, especially in the analytical psychology of Carl Gustav Jung, reflects the role in life the individual is playing"

So this reading won't be about who you are from your point of view, but the role you play socially and lean into, and that others perceive you as. It's especially important for people in the public eye, but I think everyone can gain from being more aware of the mask they wear in society, whether you want to craft a mask of your choosing or desire to be more authentic.

If we're being technical, everyone has different persona depending on the social context (work vs friends, etc), but we'll look at one of them/the main one only.

As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not apply to you 100%. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

PILE 1

Cards: The Gem, The Thread, The Prayer, The Moon, 3 of Wands, the Empress, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles, Justice, Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, 2 of Wands

Let's start with a description of your persona, as in, the role you take on in society.

You role in society seems to be of someone who prioritize actions that assist and improve others, embodying the role of a helper. You are a path-maker and actively encourage people to follow along, and they do, because they sense that there is something you see or know that they don't. They see you as someone who has accumulated a lot of wisdom in their field of interest, that makes them some type of refined diamond that shines among common rocks. You are respected and admired for your abilities and people go to you for your specialized advice. They see you as a trailblazer, someone who is not afraid to take the lead and who people come to for their advice and knowledge.

The first impression people get from you is that you appear rather withdrawn and mysterious, secretive even. You don't seem to share a lot about yourself and they don't really get what's going on inside of your head. You might even come off as moody to some because they don't see the inner emotional tides that affect your behavior. This makes total sense after the last paragraph that highlighted that your role is someone who takes action, what you are on the inside you keep somewhat hidden and probably show that to only a few selected people. I'm getting internet persona for some, for others it has to do with work.

For the perceived qualities, people can see that you're someone who is a visionary, someone who has a higher perspective on things. They see you as driven, ambitious and a force to be reckoned with. You are able to communicate your energetic curiosity to others, which makes you a great team leader. Someone who's able to plan ahead and make the right decisions at the right time.

As for your flaws, they see you as someone who has a hard time enjoying the simple pleasures of life, because you're so dedicated to your cause. All work and no play, so to speak. You are very action-oriented and the drawback of that is that you seem rather unreachable, someone who is affected by nothing and that people have a hard time connecting with on a deeper level. They have a hard time getting to know you on a friend or romantic level because you are so focused on your own path that you don't let people in easily.

What others think drive you in life is your desire to be a positive influence on people around you and your dedication to whatever career or cause you are involved with. To lead with compassion and fairness with your greater understanding of things. They also see you as driven by the desire to better your craft and work for your community tirelessly and almost egolessly. So I think despite your withdrawn nature, you still come off as empathetic, it's just very neutral and it doesn't seem to affect you personally.

Above all, as someone who values integrity, you seem to fear unfairness and facing unjust repercussions. There is a fear of being attacked for the wrong reason or by the wrong people and not being able to defend yourself or the people you protect. I'm getting that in our world, things are not always just, in social settings, or even and especially on the political and executive level of things, which makes you very wary of that and you do your best to shield yourself or others from that. There is also a fear of losing control over the situation, again for reasons that would be unjust and outside of your control.

Now getting back to you, your persona has developed within you with the goal of being a link to your community, to bring you together and create a fairer and happier society for you and the people you care about. To bring forward the ideas and values you hold dear to your heart. It allows you to be someone people can rely on to have a positive impact on them. A solid foundation people can go back to when they need to. I'm also getting the word armor, as in, your persona protects yourself.

And it seems its quite aligned with your relationship with your persona, which I intended as a way to see its level of healthiness in your psyche's landscape. I think you're quite happy with the way you work in society. You persona does allow you to grab greater opportunities and makes things happen for you and your community. It's also a way to protect yourself by giving you some type of distance between your core-self and the way you are among others. It brings you a sense of control and security (which I was getting in the previous section), which is the goal of the persona.

I would say, however, that it might feel a bit lonely at time, so make sure you do share who you are on the inside with your chosen people and don't stay trapped in your persona at all times. I really think you're a great person who does amazing things, but don't forget that you also need deep connection and authentic exchanges to remain balanced and happy. You just need to find the right context to allow yourself to do that.

PILE 2

Cards: The Vow, The Lover, The High Priestess, 5 of Swords, 6 of Wands, 4 of Swords, 6 of Swords, Death, the Magician, the Chariot, Judgement, 7 of Swords, the Fool

First let's look at the description of your persona, as in, the role you take in society and how you appear.

You're someone who appears to others as having a rich inner world that they can't quite understand, as if they could sense the ties that bind you to the realm of the mind and the spirit. On the outside, they can tell that you seek living things deeply and experiencing reality with all senses, but that it's not superficial but rather a way for you to reach the meaning of life, in the way of the poet. But there's also some type of almost ascetic vibe to you, as if you indulged in excess in a serious manner. I don't think you appear very grounded or emotional, as if you explored your social settings in an almost disembodied, experimental way; gathering information for a purpose people cannot comprehend because you just don't talk about it and keep it to yourself. They can tell you have secrets and they might not dare asking. You also appear fully committed to your individuality and unapologetic about who you are. It's like you are not grounded in reality/society but rather grounded in your inner world. I will develop more further but I just wanted to give a heads up that this persona is quite complex and layered.

The first impression you make on people is of someone who is proud of the battle they fought and openly talks about their past struggles. They can sense that you are strong and confident even if you haven't exchanged any words yet. They can sense you are a very resilient person who will not let anyone belittle them. You might come off a bit strong though for those who do not resonate with your vibe. However I do think you are aware of that but just don't care.

For your perceived qualities, you appear rather calm and composed, as if nothing and no one could break your peace. They see you as easy going and not someone who will create needless drama with others. You keep to yourself and if there's mayhem around you, you just don't engage. There is again this idea that you're very connected to your inner self and have a lot of personal integrity and always try to align your words and actions.

For your perceived flaws, people can sense you still have some baggage you are dragging with you. You may have had your heart or mind broken a few times and it's making you lacking trust in social interactions and it's blocking you from forming deep connection. You have a vibe of someone who's always a foot in the door, as if you were just passing by. It's like, they can sense your authenticity and you do share who you are on some level, but you're also metaphorically facing away from others, not letting anyone close to your heart. There are no cups in this reading at all, so, again, you don't really show any emotions publicly and would rather show the way you think and your philosophy of the world rather than being emotionally vulnerable. You are very guarded in that sense.

As to what you show as driving you in life, you display the fact that you are here to keep changing and evolving, mastering your self completely and not letting any setbacks get in your way of doing so. You take the saying that one must change themselves in order to change the world at heart and make it a core principle. I keep getting this feeling that you're always pushing and pushing forward without rest, all consumed that you are by your what you desire to transmute.

So it makes sense that your fear would show up as the fear of losing control. Sometimes, it's like the mask of your persona slips for a second and that people see you are terrified of losing agency over your own world. You are afraid of getting lost or trapped in a situation that you do not like and it can make you quite rebellious in sudden outburst, when that mask slips. You don't like when people put into question your way of living and are very protective of your life choices and your personality. You may snap back at people who try to break your balance by attacking your personality, or at least that's what you perceive it as.

Your persona developed as a way to help you communicate the deep and intense person that you are on the outside. I also get the idea of showcasing some aspects of your personality in a way that is intentional and powerful. I think you may have been rather shy and withdrawn in the past, or even as a child, and this persona allows a safe way for you to exist in society with as much authenticity as possible. You have a very soft heat on the inside and you want to protect it.

Finally, for what's your relationship with your persona, which one could also read as how healthy it is, I'm getting that you are fully aware of the mask you wear or the trick you play on people so to speak. Not that you are lying, but you're forging a very specific image and I think you're stealing yourself a bit here because you are not communicating the full depth of your feelings to anyone unless you are 100% sure of their intentions, and it's shooting yourself in the foot because some people will just not connect to you at all because they feel that they can't since you won't allow them in.

However, I do get that your persona is prone to evolving and shifting easily, so I don't think you are stuck in that, at all. I think your persona will naturally evolve as you transmute things within yourself and feel safer expressing other facets of yourself. You do have a deep poetic heart and it would be a shame to hide it behind a wall of spikes at all times.

PILE 3

Cards: the Tear, the Prayer, 3 of Cups rx, 2 of Pentacles, the Tower, Knight of Pentacles, the High Priestess, Page of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, 9 of Swords, the Devil, 10 of Swords, King of Cups, the Hanged Man, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands rx

Right off the bat I get the sense that you are quite young or at least not fully developed yet and that your persona is not fully formed and is some type of unintentional byproduct of what happens on the inside of yourself. You are probably struggling with mental health issues which may also be why you are appearing in such state, because you got pulled back a bit.

But let's start by describing your persona, of the role you take on and how you appear to others.

You appear as rather closed-off, quite disconnected from the people around you. You may be shy, reserved or even socially anxious. People get the sense that you are quite vulnerable and easily overwhelmed and not at ease at all in social settings. A bit of an antisocial personality as well that make you withdraw and dislike connecting with others, perhaps because you just don't have the spoons although it's hard for other people to understand.

The first impression you make on people is that you are quite unbalanced in the way you behave and react. I get the sense of a past traumatic event that affects your personality greatly and that you're trying to balance by trying to be composed and grounded but it's like you keep shifting between those two opposite sides of the scale. You might appear erratic and unpredictable or the complete opposite depending on the day. But on the good days people can tell you are trying to move forward steadily and carefully.

For your perceived qualities, people can tell that you have gained some type of inner knowledge on life and its pain and that you are committed to rebuilding yourself with hope and dedicated, even if it's in its state of infancy. They can tell you hold some wisdom about human nature and you might be quite intuitive. It's like you're holding this treasure close to your heart and you sometimes show it to others very briefly.

For your perceived flaws, the idea of being disconnected from others show up again, this time to show you are not invested in your community and are very centered on yourself. Can't blame you as I think you have your reasons, but that's definitely something people see. I really think you're just very focused on rebuilding yourself and you don't have the energy to invest in others.

As to what people think drives you in life, it seems you are dead set on overcoming your deep anxiety and just get better and get out of the hole you are in currently. You have your own demons to fight and you are determined to slay them, so to speak. Again, I think you are definitely struggling with mental health issues or substance abuse, perhaps you're even hospitalized (or have been), or are in a time of recovery and that's what's being shown out: this desire to get better and to break the chains that hold you mentally and emotionally.

So it's interesting that for your perceived fear, getting worse and losing mastery of your emotions come forward. You are afraid of losing your stability and not being able to ask or reach out for help. There is a deep rooted fear of further isolation and losing grasp of anything good in life.

Why you developed this persona is because, well, it seems you just didn't have a choice and it happened as a way to survive in some way. You felt stuck as a result of your past struggles and it got pushed outside of you for others to see, so that you could communicate your inner issues and perhaps communicate your need for support in an indirect way. It all came with a sense of urgency like you suddenly had to shift the way you appeared to others in an emergency reaction of sorts.

As I said in the very beginning, you persona appears as an underdeveloped defense mechanism and I don't think it's in a healthy state at all. It's definitely not intentional and right now you're just living in it because that's all you can do. I think you have a very passionate and adventurous core to you that got somewhat pushed back but that will totally emerge again once the crisis is over. Keep hanging on, try to communicate with others more directly and have faith that things will get better because they will!

[ddollfface]

My heart aches for my lil baby sailor/selkie son! I’d give him all the hugs, kisses, and love if I could! I hope our relationship with him can improve. I don’t want him to grow up a sad, bitter, and neglected person!

(;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

Honestly, I’d be willing to force myself to loving sailor so that son can witness a loving relationship from his parents! And I’d prob fall in love with sailor already cause I love all the yandere red flags!

𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡?

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙭 𝙎𝙚𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Let's be realistic here, nonnie. You wouldn't. Trigger Warnings; ANGST, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of rape, poorly written gore, forced pregnancy, gross.

That’s what you thought in the beginning, when you were pregnant, newly captured brought home to your lover’s arms. You thought that you’d be the loving mother who could ignore all the bad signs, that could push past the abuse and cold words, only seeing the obsession in his eyes as a positive. I mean, though his touch feels like poison, and his voice is nails on a chalkboard, at least he loves you? You thought that it was irrational to blame an innocent child for the doings of their father, that it was horrible for you to look down at your stomach with grimace and shame. 

How could you? How could you think so poorly of your son? What kind of mother are you for resenting your body for taking his seed as it’s supposed to? It made you sick. You wanted to claw out your tongue, smash in your teeth, and scream until your lungs collapsed for ever muttering the words I love you to such a man. You wanted to feel your blood swell in your mouth, dribbling down your aching throat as you cried, cried, cried out in pain. The feeling of something, something of his growing inside of you, stealing your energy, and sucking the life out of you. 

But you tried. You smiled, giggled, and laughed at every word he spewed out, not listening to a single syllable. He knew it was an act, that you didn’t love him, but he respected your act so he was soft. He gave you space, letting you breathe, ignoring your sobs as you curled away from him in your shared bed. He didn’t let you go hungry, cooking your meals every morning, day, and night. No matter how difficult you’d be, he’d come to your every beck and call. That made things easier, more tolerable, making it seem as if you were a victim of rape, kidnapping, and forced marriage.

It allowed you to live in a fantasy as a loving wife, assisting your husband in the lighthouse, cleaning when you could, and even making dinner! You lived like this for a while, but as your stomach grew, and your situation settled, you came to realize that you weren’t leaving. You weren’t you; who were you? Where were you? Why were you so pliant? 

You remembered.

Everything! You remembered the feeling of his hands on your skin, clawing away at your pelt, scrapping any trace of who you were away and replacing it with him, him, him. His hands cupping your jaw, whispering sweet nothings as he pressed you against the sand of the beach. You can still feel the sting of the sand imprinting against your smooth skin, feeling your pelt get torn away from you, slipped away from your gasps.

Let it be known, you fought. 

You clawed, bit, and scratched, slapping anything that was in your view. Your pupils dilated as his hands grazed down your body, massaging, and pressing against your skin as if you were a prayer. His lips followed suit, peppering across your skin, making you gag. Your heart was swelling with rage, filthy rage. A need to jab, punch, hit, scream, anything to get you away, consuming your soul.

You were never the same, never seeing the ocean in the same light. The waves pressing against your side as he slipped off your clothes, brushing away any tears that dribbled down your cheeks, your hands reaching out for the ocean, your home. He’d swat your hands away, tsking as he leaned down, brushing his nose against your cheek, nuzzling into your flesh.

His touch felt like a searing pan, the burning of a stove as he slowly melted his lips to yours, tilting his head in a soft motion. You bit at his lips, trying to rip the flesh away. Your jagged teeth drawing blood. It made you happy, proud of yourself when the taste of iron flooded into your mouth, staining your taste buds as you screamed, calling for your brethren.

He took you that night, deciding that if you weren’t going to be soft, then neither was he. He pressed you into the dirt, taking you like a bitch. Soft words still spewing from his mouth as he held your waist, holding you down as he pinned you to the ground. The sound of the ocean calling out to you as you grabbed the grains of sand, feeling them against your palm as you clawed at the ground, hoping for it to swallow you in one gulp. 

But that was in the past, no? It was just a fit of rage, you concluded. You were quite rude, you recall, spitting insults and hurtful glares throughout the whole… exchange. Maybe he wasn’t too bad… he did clean you up afterward, that’s what good men do, no? You’re not sure. Let’s just say, you’ve never been too keen on human affairs, never interesting you the same way it did to your sisters and brothers. 

You could put that in the past, ridding it from your memory, and replacing it with his gentle touch. The way he helps you do the dishes, placing you on the counter as you watch him work. His eyes lingering on your stomach for a moment too long, but there was nothing but a content gleam in them. His hazel eyes locked on your form, never leaving you as if he was afraid you’d disappear. That look always ruins it for you, it rips you away from your wishful fantasy of a loving home. It reminds you that he is in fact not your husband, but your hopelessly obsessive captor who doesn’t trust you to do anything. 

But you could do this. You could look past that look in his eyes, brushing it off as him as being protective over your fragile baby. You are carrying his baby, after all. It’s only natural that he’s a little antsy whenever you use a knife, or stand on a chair to get a jar, or peer outside for too long. It’s just natural, you tell yourself. You could get through this and succumb to his fantasies. His fantasies were yours, you told yourself. It was difficult in the beginning, but you’ve gotten used to it. 

You no longer flinch away from his touches, letting his hands settle on your baby bump, rubbing the skin of your stomach with warm, strong hands. His scared tissue brushing against your smooth skin, causing you to shiver, but you suppressed it. You could do this.

It’s not that bad when he helps you in the kitchen. You’re no longer worried that he’ll carve out your heart for his own needs, wanting to take you in the most primal sense of the word. Your eyes don’t flicker to his form every time he picks up a knife, wondering if it’ll be you chopped instead of the lamb. You could do this. 

And you don’t let your eyes linger on the ocean anymore, deciding to busy yourself with other things than just sitting on a window seal. You crochet now, making blankets, shirts, and socks for yourself, thinking of it as a self-service for yourself. Though you could always feel your heart skip a beat, and your head feels fuzzy whenever he suggests you make something for the little man. You… you could…

To look into the eyes of another, and to only see the eyes of your captor. The eyes of a man who ripped you from your home, shed you of your skin, and raped you like breeding cattle. Though the gleam is different, the eyes are the same. Though the hair is of a different texture, that of a soft touch, it's the same. Though the skin is tinted darker, it's the same.

Though it's just a little boy, it's still him.

And you can never forgive him for that, no matter how much he tries.

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ XAVIER | lights (christmas special)

── ◜xavier x fem!reader — mini one shot 1k words ◜Xavier prepares a Christmas surprise for her with the help of his evol. — author's note | christmas specials from the rest of the LI on my profile

She sighed, looking at her empty plate of food. She looked back out the window of her apartment, noticing that the weather hadn't improved. She didn't have many plans for Christmas but she was definitely hoping to do something other than stay locked up at home… that is until a snowstorm came.

She knew the weather wouldn't be the best but she certainly didn't expect to be completely locked in. Her plans with her friends had been ruined and she felt guilty for not stopping by to see her mom.

She looked back at the TV, there was a boring Christmas movie on that was better than nothing… Until her surroundings grew dark. The power had gone out. The damn power had gone out on Christmas Eve. It was the last thing it was missing from her horrible night.

She hadn't been able to leave the house because of the storm. She hadn't been able to go see her mother and she had not been able to attend the small meeting that her friends had organized either.

It took her a couple of minutes to get out of her trance, it felt like a really bad night and there was nothing that could cheer her up anymore. She decided that the best thing to do was to spend some time on the balcony, maybe the fresh air would help her clear her head. That was when she realized that not all of the city had ended up in darkness, there were some places and buildings that still seemed to have power and a few others that didn't… unfortunately for her, her building had been one of the ones affected.

The sound of the door had taken her out of her bubble and she rubbed her eyes before getting up from the ground and walking to the front door. She thought maybe it was the building manager talking about the problem but it was the opposite…

Xavier let out a yawn and rubbed one of his eyes before looking at her with one of those small smiles he sometimes had on his face. She had learned to read his micro expressions, she felt like no one knew him like she did and it was probably true.

"Hey… what are you doing here?" She asked confused, she wasn't trying to kick him out of her house or anything but it was Christmas Eve, she thought maybe he was with… someone.

"The power went out."

She had to press her lips together to keep from laughing, of course she had noticed that and she knew Xavier wasn't trying to be sarcastic but there was so much seriousness on his face that she couldn't help but want to laugh.

"I know… Do you want to come in?" She stepped aside to let Xavier into her apartment.

He nodded and walked inside, noticing that the only light came from the open balcony doors.

She decided not to ask. Maybe Xavier had simply decided to spend Christmas at home. It didn't surprise her after he thought they were just going to get together to read on his birthday. His birthday was important, right?

"Come… the view is pretty from here." She took his hand and practically dragged him to the balcony.

When she sat back down on the floor, he didn't hesitate to imitate her, taking a seat next to her. Her eyes were fixed on the city, waiting for the power to magically come back at any moment. Meanwhile, Xavier's eyes were completely on her, as if the pretty view she was talking about was about her.

She sighed, feeling somewhat sad. She certainly didn't expect to spend Christmas like that. Although it made her feel a little more comforted to have Xavier there.

"Why are you home tonight?" She looked at him when she heard Xavier's question. She had told him two days ago that she had a meeting with her friends because she had tried to convince him to go with her.

"Didn't you see the news?" Xavier shook his head. "The storm closed the streets. I tried to leave but a policeman stopped me and forced me to go back the way I went." She sighed again remembering the disappointment she had felt when she had been told those words.

Xavier looked away. He felt sad to see her so sad, maybe his presence wasn't that much but he wanted to do something to cheer her up. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands, still feeling down. She played with her fingers and the small threads that came out of the edge of her pajamas. Until something caught her attention.

An orb of light was near her cheek. She raised her face to find the small orb floating near her face. With her brow furrowed she looked at Xavier without understanding, more small orbs came out of his hand and floated around her, a small smile formed on her face.

"What are you doing?" She smiled excitedly when the orbs around her began to move around her, until they gathered in front of her.

"We need light," he lied. He actually wanted to put a smile on her face and it had clearly worked. There was now a huge smile on her face as she tried to touch the small orbs of light but they just moved away from her touch.

The small orbs gathered in front of her again, forming the silhouette of a Christmas tree and then they dispersed again. The small orbs scattered in front of her again, forming small spheres this time. It was like her own little personal light show.

"Open your hands." She complied and spread her hands in front of her chest.

The orbs of light this time gathered over her hands without touching her completely. Forming small stars, it was like holding the stars in her hands in a perhaps too literal way.

The orbs scattered until they became small particles that disappeared from her sight, leaving her almost in complete darkness again. She now had a huge smile on her face and it had definitely been the highlight of her night.

"Thank you." She smiled, shifting her gaze back into her apartment. Her eyes searched for one of the clocks in her house to confirm what she had in mind: it was already past midnight. "Merry Christmas, Xavier."

"Merry Christmas," he murmured. He slid his hand out to take hers.

[partycatty]

So ive been obsesed with janet cage since she appeared in the end of mk1 and now shes finally being released with peacemaker and im desperate for something ANYTHING PLEASE 🙏 😭

YOURE SO ME FR I LOVE JANET SO MUCH GENUINELY i need her so bad she's my pfp and banner on discord rn HAHA thank you for sharing your thoughts bc i was so afraid i was alone HEHE

janet cage > this one's for you, baby!

janet's got a wittle crush on the reader, and will go to stupid lengths to show herself off

notes: you're in the genderbent universe :3 but because i'm stupid, the chosen ones' names are gonna remain the same because i couldn't think of a genderswapped name for them and wasn't about to do them dirty with new names LMAO

[ masterlist ]

it was only a couple months into training, and things were looking... decent? at least, you could consider yourself improving. sure, combat was something you trained in, but when it came to you versus whatever horrors outworld contained, you tugged at the collar of your shirt.

janet, however, seemed unfazed. actually, she seemed ecstatic! you'd seen a couple of her movies and knew she could kick ass if needed. her physique impressed you, as did her endless charm and effortless ability to piss the swordswoman off. her attitude was brushed off for your sake. you knew she had just gone through a messy divorce with her ex-wife, is in talks of selling her mega mansion, and new roles were coming up dry. you'd think she'd be bitter but it turned out to be quite the opposite. her typical swagger and flourished gestures tore you from your thoughts.

"there she is!" janet exclaims, swinging a toned arm around your shoulder and tugging you close to her side. "you miss me? i bet you did!" you recall the last time you interacted with her: lunch. twenty minutes ago. even still, her perky attitude flustered you quicker than you'd like to admit.

"suuure," you sarcastically reply, hoping to toy with her ego a bit. "as if i didn't see you at lunch."

"it's hard to not miss me when i'm not around," she sighs dramatically, as if she has the hard life. "no need to lie to me, babe. you love having me around." your insides twist at the name. as you eyes are downcast, janet's eyes light up more than usual with a slight blush to her cheeks.

"whatever you wanna believe, miss A-List," you swat her arm, and she removes it though her grin remains unfaltered. janet pauses for a moment, lifting her sunglasses from her eyes and settling them on top of her head. you're winded by her beauty. you had seen it on screen as mentioned before, but there was some alluring power of her eyes when they were only a couple feet from your face. janet could kick ass, but she was also a gorgeous actress.

"tell you what," she shoots a single finger gun at you, once again removing you from your daydreams full of her face... among other things. "you won't have to miss me tonight. raiden and i planned to spar after dinner. you'll watch me kick her ass, right?" there was a hint of pleading, almost nervousness in her gaze. as if she needed you to say yes. her brows knitted together for only a single twitch.

"don't sweat," you reassure her, taking her strong hands in yours with a soft smile. "i'll be your cheerleader." with your confirmation, you turn on your heel and head the other direction to tend to your own duties. what you don't notice, however, is janet whooping to herself as soon as your back is turned.

just as the sun hits golden hour, you and the girls are waiting by the sparring ring. raiden stands straight, hands behind her back as she waits for her opponent to arrive. and so she does. janet comes jogging into view, waving at the crowd of monks and earthrealmers. she waves and smiles, blowing kisses to an unamused audience. she acts like it's another one of her performances. liu kang rolls her eyes.

"i bet your chakram hat that janet gets her ass kicked," you mutter to kung lao, who stood beside you with a smirk. she nudges your shoulder.

"aren't you supposed to be on janet's side?" kung lao mumbles back with a knowing grin. when you return with a perplexed frown, she scoffs. "everyone and their mother could figure out you're into her."

your cheeks puff up out of frustration, ready to rip kung lao a new one for being so loud and direct, but you see a hand snap in your face. snapping your neck to the source, you meet your eyes with janet's, who was leaning down to catch your attention.

"hey hey, eyes on me, sweet thing," her voice feels like honey when it drops low, and you snap back to her attention with a dazed look in your eye. your heel drives into kung lao's foot when you hear her snicker. "atta girl, check this out." a part of you dies inside from embarrassment. damn her and her confidence.

the spar begins, and admittedly it's evenly matched. punches are matched with kicks, parries and dodges slightly rile the crowd up from how equal the combat is. while raiden is calculated, janet is quick, and it becomes apparent that janet actually has a good chance.

that is, until she successfully knocks raiden to the ground. she's doubled over in pain, trying to prop herself up enough to come back from the near-knockout. janet winds up a fist almost comically, winding it in circles with a grin. just before she lands the blow, she turns to you with a beaming, cocky grin.

"this one's for you, baby!" janet shouts out, pulling her sunglasses down with her other hand to wink. before you could even consider being flattered, raiden flips up and shifts her weight, readying a godlike kick.

WHAM!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

janet sits awkwardly on the cot, fidgeting with the now broken pair of sunglasses in her hands. she can't seem to bring herself to focus on you, even as you're leaning into her to wipe her wounds.

"you should have been more careful," you gently scold her, holding her face up by her chin to wipe the dried blood on her nose. "i don't need the whole show to be impressed, janet."

she smiles lazily, eyelashes fluttering as she inspects your features. "did i at least look hot getting my nose broken?"

you want to sigh and scold her further, but you decided to indulge in her entertainment and smile back, and janet visibly tenses up at your warm stare.

"very."

her lazy smile turns into a lopsided grin as she realizes you're calling her hot. not that her ego needed it really, she knew she was hot. but you saying of it all people, dear lord she was reeling. although she was an actress, a damn good one, you could see she was visibly straining herself from losing it. so, considering you had the upper hand, you hold her face by her cheeks and squish gently with a teasing smile.

"you're blushing."

janet frowns dubiously. "am not."

"i can see it. you're blushing." your eyes flicker between hers, and then to her lips briefly. she sucks them in, focusing on your own lips with dazed eyes.

perhaps janet could use another lesson, you think. so, instead of indulging in what you both want, you let go of her face and place the bloodied rag in a discard bin, wiping your hands on your thighs. janet freezes with a pleading look, knowing exactly what you're doing. you're playing a sick game of cat and mouse.

"where are...?" janet's voice trails off sheepishly, the hardest indicator that you've caught her off guard. she wants to stand up and follow you out, but the monks told her to stay, and a pounding migraine from the blow made sudden movement difficult.

"gotta fight for what you want, janet," you coo innocently, waving with your fingers before you exit the tent. "just don't get your ass kicked. maybe then i'll reward you."

you're not around long enough to see the steam spilling from her ears and her beet-red cheeks.

[novaawayne]

YUUTA’S GIRL || Yuuji Itadori

pairing: Yuuta x Fem reader | Yuuji x Fem reader (platonic)

summary: When Yuuji meets you, he can't stop thinking that you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Unfortunate no one told him that you are Yuuta's girl

warnings: smut, voyeurism, established relationship with Yuuta, overstimulation, penetration. Tell me if I forgot something.

wc: +1.3k

a/n. English is not my first language.

masterlist

When Yuuji met you, he was simply fascinated. You were so pretty and nice. You were talking to Inumaki, it seemed like you two were very good friends.

He immediately approached with a huge smile to introduce himself to you. He was delighted when you gave him a white smile and a greeting just as lively as the one he gave you.

You told him many things and explained a few more about how he could improve his training. Yuuji thanked you and asked you to train him when you have some free time.

Yuuji was a very outgoing and kind boy, so no one had suspected that he was interested in you romantically or else they would have warned him that you had a boyfriend. Also, it was something you never mentioned, how could Itadori have known? He was giving you clear flirtatious signals and he thought he was being very clear. Or not?

Also, when he first met Yuuta, the two of you barely interacted in his presence. Again, how could he have suspected?

It was a few months later when he decided to ask you out on a date. Itadori was on his way to your room and was about to knock on the door but some strange sounds prevented him from doing so.

The sliding door was a bit open, it was a small opening but there was a direct view to your bed.

He was surprised to see you riding Yuuta's dick. The raven-haired boy hugged your waist tightly while he left kisses on your clavicle and with his other hand he squeezed your hard nipples.

Your ass was constantly moving up and down, in and out of Yuuta's hard cock.

You were quite noisy compared to Yuuta, who was just breathing heavily and raggedly, enjoying the feel of your walls caressing his length.

Yuuji wasn't sure, but for a second he saw Yuuta staring at him with one eye open. Yuuta hadn't taken her lips off your skin but he had opened his eyes to look at the door. He couldn't have noticed, right?

But what Itadori noticed was how Yuuta's palm hit your ass hard, making his hand mark your skin. You screamed from both pain and pleasure.

Yuuji felt his cheeks flush red and a sense of embarrassment. He shouldn't be looking at something so intimate but he couldn't look away.

Your lips met Yuuta's in a messy, needy kiss.

Yuuji's hand traveled to the inside of his pants. It wasn't intentional, but it was starting to hurt the way his pants were tightening on him.

Not sure if anyone else was in the hallway, he began to stroke his cock. Watching your pretty pussy swallow Yuuta's cock and listening to you moan your lover's name.

He imagined himself in Yuuta's place and his thumb stroked the slit at the tip of him with great force before sliding the pre-cum down his entire length.

He lifted the hem of his shirt to put it between his teeth, most of his abdomen was exposed but at least that way he could muffle his moans a bit. It would be bad if someone found out, wouldn't it?

Your position changed, this time your back was leaning against Yuuta's chest, your legs were spread wide and were supported in this way by the boy's knees. Yuuta's hands caressed the inside of your thigh gently and Yuuji had a perfect view of your pussy being drilled by Yuuta's cock.

Your head snapped back to land on Yuuta's shoulder, who took advantage of the space to drop kisses down your neck.

One of his hands found its way to your clit and the other hand to your nipple.

Yuuji's hand moved faster, too excited by the scene unfolding before his eyes. He knew that he should look away, that he should leave this place, but his eyes remained open and his feet were unable to move.

“Yu… Yuuta… it's too much” you stammered.

"C'mon darling. I know you're a good girl and you can give me one more"

Yuuta's hand went to your clit to rub it hard, you let out a cry as you felt your arousal released. Yuuta was quieter, but his gasps were heard throughout the room as he peaked at him.

He left a couple of marks on your neck before coming out of you. Your legs were shaking and you still weren't able to catch your breath.

Yuuji was still biting hard on the edge of his shirt to stifle his gasps. His hand was stained with his semen just like his clothes.

It took him a moment to recover. He saw Yuuta making you comfortable on the bed, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before disappearing into what appeared to be the bathroom. He also saw him come back to clean you up, your eyes could barely stay open but Yuuji noticed the way you were looking at Yuuta. With lots of love.

—-

The next day, Yuuji was in the common room waiting for Nobara and Fushiguro to come out. What he didn't expect was to see you walking through that door with a big smile and wearing a beautiful summer dress. He also noticed a small mark on your chest, probably you had hidden the others with makeup because Yuuji remembers seeing all over your body full of marks.

"Hello, Itadori" you greeted him, sitting next to him.

Yuuji looked away immediately, feeling his cheeks start to burn. You looked at him confused.

"Everything is alright?" You asked again.

The boy tried to control himself before looking at you. But the images of you stark naked made it hard for him to think straight.

He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm fine" he looked at you with a smile "I'm sorry, it's just... I was going to sneeze"

"I hope you don't catch a cold" he looked at your radiant smile "will you go out today?"

He nodded.

"I'll go to the city with Nobara and Fushiguro"

“That sounds fun”

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, trying to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“Yes, I will go out with Yuuta and Inumaki. Panda and Maki have to stay to train, so it's just the three of us."

Yuuji didn't know what else to say and unfortunately for him, the ones who appeared through that door were Yuuta and Inumaki. He was really hoping it was Nobara or at least Fushiguro.

You stood up quickly to go hug Yuuta, who welcomed you with open arms and without you noticing, he shot a quick look at Yuuji that left him frozen in place of him.

Yuuta took your hand before approaching Itadori with a kind smile. Inumaki stood aside, sensing how tense the atmosphere suddenly became. Although he already got an idea from the way Yuuta was acting.

"Itadori" greeted Yuuta. Inumaki just raised a hand "Fushiguro told me they were going to the city, I thought they had already left"

Everyone noticed how Itadori's face flushed violently red.

“Mhm… I'm waiting for them to come. Surely Nobara hasn't decided on an outfit yet” he started to laugh, but it seemed like an awkward laugh.

"I understand, then we'll go" Yuuta took your hand more tightly but you didn't take it seriously at that moment "it's rare that our days off coincide and we want to take advantage of it"

"Salmon" Inumaki agreed and you gave him a cute smile.

“Yuuji, are you sure you're alright? Your face is very red. It could be a cold"

Of course, you were so oblivious to Yuuji's feelings for you. But Yuuta hadn't missed the way Yuuji had been looking at you and how he had been wanting to ask you out on a date.

He also didn't miss how the day before he had been outside your room watching everything he did to you. Let alone he missed how he cum at the same time as you.

"I'm fine" he assured "have fun"

"Okay, but you should go see a doctor if you don't feel well."

"I will do it"

He watched them walk away, you taking Yuuta's hand and staying very close to him. Yuuji wanted to be in his place.

Yuuji wanted Yuuta's girl.

↬ written by Novaawayne

[pitchprowler27]

Hearts On The Sidelines

The energy in the stadium was electric, pulsing beneath Ellie’s feet like a living thing. It was a chaotic symphony of chants, cheers, and clapping—a sensation that might overwhelm most, but for Ellie, it was oddly comforting. Chaos wasn’t foreign to her; she thrived in it. As a paramedic, her life was a series of high-stakes moments and adrenaline rushes. This? This was her version of peace.

Beside her stood Bobby, her childhood partner-in-crime, arms raised in a roar as the Arsenal team burst onto the field. Bobby was as loud and commanding as Ellie was quiet and reserved—a six-foot-tall force of nature to her compact, toned frame. He was the extrovert to her introvert, the life of the party to her quiet observer. They were opposites in nearly every way, save for their shared queerness and their unbreakable bond. They’d joked often that they were each other’s emotional support queer.

Their friendship had roots deeper than most. They’d grown up together, survived the Army as field medics, and now found themselves sharing a new chapter of life in England. Ellie had needed to escape the States and her family, and Bobby, ever her loyal shadow, wasn’t about to let her go alone. England was as far from home as they could get, and Arsenal games had quickly become part of their new routine.

Ellie didn’t know the first thing about football, or as Bobby loved to tease her, soccer. What she did know was that the women’s team had a roster of ridiculously attractive players, and she wasn’t above enjoying the view.

“Honey girl, close that mouth before someone thinks you’re catching flies,” Bobby teased, nudging her with an elbow. Ellie snapped her mouth shut, her face going beet red. She hadn’t even realized she’d been staring.

“Shut up,” she hissed, shoving him playfully. “If this were the men’s team, you’d be drooling all over the place.”

Bobby threw his head back and laughed, the sound booming over the crowd noise. “Touché, little one. Touché.”

Their banter was cut short when a woman in front of them suddenly slumped in her seat, unconscious. Ellie and Bobby shared a quick look—a silent, shared exhale of here we go again. Even on a day off, work seemed to follow them.

Seamlessly, they fell into action. Bobby stabilized her head and neck while Ellie checked for a pulse, her hands steady despite the rush of adrenaline. The woman’s clammy skin and shallow breathing were telling, and both friends suspected dehydration and heat exhaustion. By the time stadium medics arrived, the woman was starting to come around, but Ellie and Bobby insisted on accompanying her to the medical tent to make sure she was okay.

Inside the tent, it was clear the crew was green—two young EMTs who looked as if they’d just graduated. Ellie didn’t waste time. Flashing her badge, she barked out instructions while Bobby set up monitoring equipment and Ellie established IV access. They moved as one, the rhythm of years working together palpable in the ease of their movements.

The woman, Amanda, gradually improved under their care, her color returning as fluids worked their magic. Bobby kept her distracted with easy conversation—he had a gift for making people feel at ease, and Ellie was grateful for it.

“I’m Amanda, by the way,” the woman said, sitting up a little. “My daughter plays for Arsenal. She’s going to be worried sick when she finds out.”

Ellie smiled softly, finishing her checks. “She’ll be worried, sure, but relieved when she sees you’re okay. Just make sure you hydrate better next time—it’s no joke in this heat.”

As the game ended and Amanda prepared to leave, her daughter appeared, jogging toward the tent. Ellie glanced up, and her heart stuttered. The woman—blonde, tall, and impossibly fit—was instantly recognizable. Leah Williamson. The Captain of Arsenal. Ellie had seen her on posters and in headlines, but in person? She was breathtaking.

“Mum! What happened?” Leah’s voice was tinged with worry as she knelt beside Amanda. Ellie found herself frozen, her brain short-circuiting as Bobby’s smirk widened beside her.

“Ellie and Bobby took such good care of me,” Amanda said, gesturing to them. “They’re absolute angels.”

Leah turned her attention to them, her piercing blue eyes locking on Ellie. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “I’m Leah, by the way.”

Bobby, ever the charmer, extended a hand first. “Bobby. And this shy one here is Ellie.”

Ellie managed a nod, her voice caught somewhere in her throat as Leah turned her attention to her. Leah extended her hand, and Ellie shook it, the contact sending a jolt through her. She forgot to let go, and when she realized, she dropped it like it was on fire, heat flooding her cheeks.

“Uh… yeah. No big deal,” she stammered, rocking nervously on her heels. Bobby’s silent laughter was palpable next to her.

Leah’s lips quirked into a smirk, her gaze lingering on Ellie. “Well, I appreciate you both taking such good care of my mum.” She paused, her tone turning playful. “Hope to see you around, especially you, pretty girl.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped, and before she could formulate a response, Leah had turned, leading Amanda away. Bobby grasped Ellie’s shoulders, shaking her gently.

“Oh, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie,” he teased, grinning from ear to ear.

“Not one word, Bobby. Not one,” Ellie muttered, though her wide-eyed stare said everything she couldn’t.

[parageist]

MANY RAIN WORLD SPOILERS AHEAD

yknow, what really are these module things you see attached to iterators?

i always assumed they were steam vents and thus make the torrential rains you experience, as when its rain time, they start steaming. but as ive played through more campaigns and revisited old areas, ive noticed some strange things about them

like whats up with this one on the bottom? why is it cut in half like that?

and sometimes the lighting makes these circle things in the background look like theyre protruding, so I assumed they were just the same steam vent things but viewed face-on, yet in this image (and in a lot of others) the lighting suggests the opposite - they're indentations on the structure. perhaps the vent things can be retracted in/out of the base?

yet here in the outer expanse you can find them on train cars, and the lighting looks like they're protruding, which would either mean the train cars are extremely wide or theres an extreme amount of clearance between the rail and the walls of the tunnel.

and even if it was retracted into its shell, that would mean the shell itself is super wide to be able to house an object that long. also the retractable theory in general starts to fall flat when you never actually see them retract or extrude, which if they are steam vents, then shouldnt they pop out of their shells when its rain time? this makes me think the circles facing head-on arent the same vent modules we see. perhaps they're some sort of "socket" or attachment point for some other component? im not sure.

but anyway, back to the main point. what are these things?

well, an important peice of evidence completely changes everything.

YOU CAN FIND THEM (and the circle background thingies) *INSIDE* OF ITERATOR CANS

(they're in/on moon's can as well, so there doesn't seem to be a difference between gen 1 and gen 3 iterator designs in regards to these modules)

but anyway. why are there steam vents inside of their processors???

and you cant just deduce that they arent steam vents, cus they definitely are (as shown in this video)

but at the same time the ones inside their cans dont produce any steam. or at least, no steam that we can see.

but this leads me to a theory, once you keep in mind another major thing about iterators: they need a shit load of water to function, yet you never see any of the neuronflies, inspectors, or other organisms inside drink. so where the heck is all the water? (besides the lymphatic system)

this makes me think that the steam vents we see inside of iterator structures are indeed steam vents, but the amount of steam they produce is a lot less. i assume they are basically giant humidifiers, which would saturate the air with so much moisture that the neuronflies and what not wouldnt need to "drink" as they would just constantly be absorbing water from the air. the moist air could also improve electrical conductivity between neurons.

so yeah that's my theory! it is kind of uncomfortable to think about the inside of iterator cans being absolutely muggy and miserable from the extreme humidity, but it makes sense knowing that being inside an iterator is basically like being inside a giant living organism's body; of course it's gonna be wet and slimy in there. it would also explain how the water pumped through the lymphatic conduits gets distributed to all the neurons and other purposed organisms - instead of having a separate pipe connecting every little creature to the water supply, you just saturate the air with it so they can "wirelessly" get water!

[renthony]

Just curious. How bad has Biden been at controlling COVID-19 in your view?

First: I already responded to a similar question you left on this post.

Second: Biden has been atrocious for COVID-19 safety and management. COVID-19 is still killing people, and our president has done a horribly insufficient job in mitigating that. "Better than the Republicans" is not the same thing as "good" or "effective." Biden's abysmal reaction to COVID-19 is part of why I'm so thrilled that the Uncommitted campaign for the Democratic primary has achieved some success. That particular campaign is focused on ceasefire in Palestine, but the People's CDC explained in a statement how Palestine is also very much a public health issue. We need to scare the bastard and actually do some of that "pushing him left" that people claimed they'd do after getting him elected. Though it seems to me like a lot of people just settled for, "okay, we got rid of Trump, we don't have to worry anymore."

Third: While I'm at it, people have to do more than vote. You have got to get involved. You have got to do more than participate in the presidential election once every four years. Join a union (may I recommend the IWW?), follow the guidance of The People's CDC, volunteer for your local Food Not Bombs, get involved in a tenants union like the Autonomous Tenants Union Network, read Riot Medicine, get trained in first aid and get involved in a street medic group, read up on your local politics and get involved on the small-scale, do something in addition to voting in the presidential election. Even if you're limited in how much you can personally participate, find the people who are talking about these issues and signal boost them, and share the information with others who may be more able to participate more. If you can tell people to go vote in the presidential election, you can also tell them to go do other things, too.

Now, with all of that out of the way, here are some links related to Biden's abysmal COVID-19 response:

During his 2020 campaign, Biden promised immediate $2K stimulus checks. Instead, he delivered $1,400. Sources: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Velena Jones for NBC Bay Area: "‘Too expensive': Bay Area residents shocked over new COVID vaccine prices"

Reuters: "COVID vaccine manufacturers set list price between $120-$130 per dose"

Joseph Choi for The Hill: "Free COVID-19 test program to be suspended for now"

Disability activist Alice Wong writing for TeenVogue: "Covid Isn't Going Anywhere. Masking Up Could Save My Life," and the follow-up article, "COVID and the 2024 Election: What Biden and Democrats Owe High-Risk People."

Laura Weiss writing for The New Republic: "Democrats Can't Keep Ignoring Covid in 2024."

David Cohen and Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden on '60 Minutes': 'The Pandemic is Over.'"

Alex Skopic for Current Affairs: "COVID-19 is Still a Threat. So is Biden’s CDC."

Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden Appears to be Over Covid Protocols."

Paul Thornton for the Los Angeles Times: "Covid Still Rages, and the Biden Administration Isn't Helping."

Eric J. Topol for the Los Angeles Times: "The U.S. is facing the biggest COVID wave since Omicron. Why are we still playing make-believe?"

We should have free, universal testing. We should have free, universal vaccination. We should have free, universal treatment. We should have financial assistance for those of us who can't work outside the home. We should have mandated work-from-home for any job that can be done remotely. We should be emptying prisons and paying attention to the way disease and abuse proliferate inside their walls. We should have COVID-19 safety PSAs and government support for universal masking. We should have free distribution of N95s. We should have mandated masking in medical settings and public spaces. We should have a higher minimum wage. We should have healthcare reforms. We should have strong worker protections. We should have improved infrastructure. We should have a president who gives a single flying fuck about how many of us are dying.

And we have none of it.

But we sure seem to have money to keep dropping bombs, arming cops, terrorizing the vulnerable, and imprisoning innocent people to use for slave labor.

[flyingwargle]

as if guided by an inexplicable force, hinata finds himself outside of karasuno high school.

he dismounts his bike. a few students pass by, shooting him furtive glances, making him feel out of place. all throughout his high school years, he was repeatedly mistaken as a middle schooler, and now that he's left school behind him for good, it seems he'll never escape such impressions.

wheeling his bike along, he walks around, tracing the routes he took from the bike rack to the clubrooms, the main building, the gyms where the various teams practice. their doors are wide open to allow for fresh air, voices drifting over him.

eventually, he finds the gym dedicated to the volleyball team, established as such in his third year. he freezes at ukai's shouts, sharp as ever, yelling at his players to raise their elbows, to react faster. a chorus of affirmatives answer him, and the ball is thrown in the air again.

curiosity gets the best of him. hinata leans his bike against the wall and creeps closer to the door, peering inside. the players are divided into two teams, differentiated by green and yellow bibs. ukai stands at the referee's position, watching as the ball sails back and forth. the libero goes for the receive, the setter running to cover it, sending it to the left. the wing spiker jumps, unperturbed by the three-man block in front of him. his spike blows past them.

ukai blows his whistle. the boys shout in celebration. hinata, caught up in the excitement, cheers along. "nice kill!"

heads turn in his direction, ukai included. hinata freezes, feels his blood turn cold. then, the gym explodes.

"it's hinata shoyo from the jackals!"

"hinata-senpai!"

"hinata-san! can i get your autograph?"

"what's he doing here?"

"is he here to visit?"

as the boys rush toward him, ukai steps down and holds them off with a fierce glare. to his visitor, he says, "i never would've expected to see you here."

"hi, coach! i, uh, i'm playing a game with friends later, and i got restless, so i went on a bike ride and ended up here..." hinata chuckles nervously. "ah, i didn't mean to bother you! i can leave if you want-"

"if i make you leave, i'll never hear the end of it," ukai snorts, glancing over at his dazed team. "stick around for a bit. i'll throw them at you after a few more rallies." he turns around, barks at everyone to get back into position. hinata grins, taking his shoes off before entering to observe from the sidelines.

there's something nostalgic about being back to his humble roots. shoes squeak against the hardwood floor, the air stiff with only the door open. the curtains are drawn across the stage, water bottles and towels scattered on the ledge. it feels just like yesterday that he was being scolded for leaving his gear everywhere, always distracted by his underclassmen or something else.

ukai gives them a break, and the boys swarm him with questions about the jackals, how to improve their serves, whether or not he'll sign their uniforms. "no way that's going to happen," ukai grumbles at the last request.

"i'd be happy to sign anything else," hinata chirps. "within reason, of course!"

as the boys scramble to find appropriate items and markers, hinata hears footsteps approach from behind. he glances over his shoulder, whirls around in surprise. "kageyama!"

"oh." kageyama stops, hands in the pockets of his team jacket. "what are you doing here?"

"i can ask you the same thing!"

"i was in the area, so i thought to say hi to ukai-san." he nods politely when his coach gapes at him. "hello."

"let me guess..." ukai gestures at both of them. "you'll be playing together later?"

hinata nods. "yeah! we also invited-"

"ah! hinata! kageyama!"

"yamaguchi! and..." hinata waves at the blonde hiding behind his friend. "tsukishima!"

"why are you here?" tsukishima grumbles, stepping into view.

ukai has an amused look on his face. "i didn't know the off-season is when alumni visit their old coaches."

"the gym we're playing at is nearby," yamaguchi explains. "hope you don't mind us dropping by."

"i do, in the sense you're disturbing our practice time, but i'll just think of it as upperclassmen coming to see their underclassmen." ukai nods at his team, starstruck, now that the number of pros have multiplied. "you've got five minutes to ask for autographs, so make it fast!"

after a whirlwind of autographs, one underclassman approaches hinata. "could you show us your minus tempo set with kageyama-san?" he asks eagerly. "we're trying to replicate it, but haneda isn't fast enough." another boy, presumably the setter, scoffs and mutters under his breath.

"sure! uh, if that's okay with you, coach," hinata adds hastily. ukai nods, and he turns to kageyama. "did you bring your court shoes?"

"obviously. did you?"

hinata pulls open his drawstring bag. "yeah!"

they put their shoes on and step onto the court. it's like they're in their first year again, discovering the tools that'll help them succeed, unafraid to drop whatever is no longer useful. "do you still remember how it's done?" hinata asks, picking up a ball.

"you don't just forget how to do it," kageyama retorts. "dumbass."

hinata laughs and tosses the ball. he makes his approach, arms pulled back, leaping into the air in the blink of an eye, the ball already arching at where his contact point is. he spikes, the ball landing with a resounding echo.

applause erupts, along with requests for them to do it again. hinata turns and extends his fist, kageyama knocking his own against his. maybe there will be a day when they'll be on the same team again, but until then, the synergy they shared will remain dormant, always ready to cause a spark.

"don't be strangers!" ukai calls out as they get ready to leave. "come by and visit whenever you have time!"

"yeah!" hinata jumps to his feet, his former teammates behind him. "see you later, coach!"

[venusskissed]

𝐏𝐚𝐜 - 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥

🪽 this pac is self explanatory! I will be telling you why you are beautiful, what makes you you. there is a lot of wonderful things about you and you deserve to know about them. while everyone is beautiful from the outside I will tell you what shines about your soul.

#01 #02 #03

— ౨ৎ : close your eyes and take a deep breath, then choose the pile your eyes landed on. it’s also fine to choose multiple or the one you felt drawn to from the get go either because of intuition or something else. do what best suits you. 💖

🧾ㅤㅤ PLEASE KEEP IN MIND that this is a very general reading as multiple people will read this pile. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. 🫶🏻

pile 01

⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭 the lovers, four of pentacles, ace of wands, kingfisher, deer, tiger

hiii my beautiful pile one!! 🫶🏻 there is so much love inside your heart it’s remarkable. truly, you are wonderful. do you know the saying ‘wolf in sheep clothing’?

you are a sheep in sheep clothing. it’s like the more people find out about you the more sweeter, kinder and precious you become.

you are beautiful because of your heart. the way you love people, your principles, your values, the way you treat other people. you truly are selfless and golden hearted even if you have been through a lot and it’s something that’s hard to change about you if not impossible.

you have an incredibly gentle, loving and kind aura to you. I am also sensing that many people who chose this pile might like to stand up for people, the kind of ones that have a hard time standing up for themselves and speaking up. you like to do it instead of them just so they are safe, protected or they aren’t looked down upon. you truly view everyone as your equal and cannot stand mistreatment. I don’t think any of you expect anything back for it either, you do it because you can and because you want to help people.

I don’t think it’s in a people pleasing way either. If someone makes a mistake you will willingly call them out. explaining to them what they did wrong and why without belittling them or making them feel like they are less because of it or incapable of improving or overcoming their problem. in your eyes no one is entirely bad, and no one is entirely good. everyone is just a human. so you are a very fair person. if ___ blank was wrong you will defend them, but won’t deny that they also made a mistake. all while seeing that it doesn’t mean they deserved to be wronged. so you see all sides of a situation rather than viewing the world in black and white colours.

you might also be very giving. as in donating, helping friends out in though times, helping people when they are confused (perhaps even with directions at times?), giving your old clothes away, not minding if someone eats your food (snacks) etc. you seem to be very selfless and giving.

now I see a lot of you guys might not think so and feel as if this pile doesn’t describe you well and I just want to say that it’s true even if you have a rough/dry sense of humour, curse a lot, watch vulgar things etc.. regardless of how you view yourself I can see that your heart is overflowing with love and people think very highly of you exactly because of the way you behave around them, even if it’s subconscious actions.

a butterfly can’t see it’s wings, you know?

keythings: kind, gentle, soft, sweet, ‘I am just a teenage dirt bag baby’, angelic, soft voice, many of you could have a really beautiful laugh 🫶🏻, mermaids, electric guitar, love shot, watergun, 1D - WMUB

🦢 that is all my beautiful pile one! thank you for your precious time, I hope you enjoyed this PAC! 🫶🏻 please keep in mind that this is a reading on current energies, these can change anytime! I am sorry for any spelling mistakes as english isn’t my first language and I haven’t proof read yet! 💖

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶

pile 02

⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭 nine of pentacles, the empress, the tower, panda, guinea pig, hyena

hiiii my beautiful pile two!!! 🫶🏻 how are you? I want to say please take your time to rest, a lot of you in this pile might force yourselves to go through hardships when you are already going through enough to destroy a soul. maybe for the sake of pride.

of course, that doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful; because you are. you are wonderful. you have a very classy, elegant, sure of yourself and lovely vibe to you. your attitude could be what draws people in, what makes people want to be like you. your logic, your confidence and the way you hold yourself up.

do you guys know jennie kim or song jia? you have that kind of vibe to you. at least, they are who you remind me of. someone beautiful in and out. you might not be everyone’s idea of fair and square or what people view as ‘good’ but you have your own set of principles, rules that you keep to and live by. you might also be someone misunderstood.

a lot of people could look down on you because of your lifestyle, way of handling situations or they think you are nothing more than a pretty face. but that is not true, you are smart, capable, understanding, kind and wonderful. a lot of these also seem to be cover up, lies about their ‘reason’ of disliking you with the real motive behind it being jealousy.

I am going to be really honest here pile two, you have so many wonderful things going on for you that people don’t even know what to be jealous of first, turning their frustration into anger.

you are beautiful, content with yourself, talented, successful (either emotionally or financially) and the cherry on top being you have a wonderful personality too. people expect you to be a mean girl/boy/person but you are simply not. you get along well with people and barely have any judgement in your bones if any.

your beauty lays within the way you carry yourself even in the saddest moments in life. it’s easy to be beautiful if you are happy but you? you are ethereal even when the world crumbles. both in and out.

you care for people the way you wish to be cared for. you listen to them, hear them without judgment and comfort them wherever you can, however you are able to. you are there to be a good force in people’s life because you know what it’s like to have no support. instead of becoming mean and closed off because of your experiences you are kind, gentle and emotionally intelligent.

a real diamond in the rough.

keythings: ‘a lot of people wish to be like you’, dolly, bratz, those aesthetic pictures of angels crying, designer, crying in a white dress (party dress, not wedding one), cold, red/pink painted nails, parties?, lighter with stickers/gems on it

you might often have headaches/migraines so I would like to kindly remind you to look after yourself sweetheart. 🩷

🦢 that is all my beautiful pile two! thank you for your precious time, I hope you enjoyed this PAC! 🫶🏻 please keep in mind that this is a reading on current energies, these can change anytime! I am sorry for any spelling mistakes as english isn’t my first language and I haven’t proof read yet! 💖

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶

pile 03

⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭 ten of wands, five of pentacles, king of wands, lady bird, guinea pig, snake

hey my beautiful pile three 🫶🏻 alright, many people, if not all who chose this pile like to express themselves a lot. say their opinion even if they know no one in the room agrees, stand up for themselves and others with anger if they have been wronged, let out all the emotions you feel, all at once.

this is a very emotional pile, even if you might not think so. in a melancholic, angry, stubborn, sentimental way.

while you struggle to understand what’s beautiful about that a lot of people seem to adore you for your ability to express yourself freely, to let all of your thoughts out. your personality is really strong and yet you never loose yourself. a lot of people seem to adore you for that, they look at you as an angel. no, not fallen one, they just adore your raw power. you have this feeling of fearlessness to you. ‘so what?’ attitude.

not a lot of people are able to be this way, what you have is truly unique.

do you have a darker aesthetic such as emo, cyberpunk, gothic or anything of the sort? of course not everyone in this pile will have that, but I can see a lot of people adoring your aesthetic if you do. (if you are gyaruu a lot of people could adore that as well.)

you have this ethereal kind of beauty to you. it feels realistic yet dreamy even though there are rough parts of your personality or perhaps life. you don’t hide yourself, you fully show who you are freely without being apologetic to anybody. if people don’t like it that’s their problem, it’s what life gave so it’s what they get.

I can also see that you never back down when you are fighting for something or if you are in an argument. you are also not focused on winning, you have a very clear way of arguing? you focus on what the other one is doing, their words and what’s going on inside their head. you are able to see through people like it’s nothing. you are highly intelligent and people adore that a lot about you. not in a jealous kind of way, just pure adoration and love towards you. (especially those of you who have little siblings or best friends younger than you)

your guides said, and I am quoting it exactly, ‘people’s person but not afraid to call bastard’s out’.

in all honesty your beauty is your strong personality, you are a badass. just the way you are, behave and the thoughts you have are enough to make you beautiful. you are so worthy of love because you have so much love. you might not think so, but anger can’t exist without love or respect.

for some of you some people also fear how much they like you, not because there is anything wrong with you but because they are scared they aren’t good enough for you. you have the effect that makes people want to better themselves.

keythings: ‘this is my last resort’, morticia addams, vampires & bats, ‘I don’t give a fuck’, headphones, black, red lipstick, sunny side up?, black sheep/not fitting in, groans, eye rolls, shien, sneeze (?), ‘good job’, ‘bye bitch’, tiktok

🦢 that is all my beautiful pile three! thank you for your precious time, I hope you enjoyed this PAC! 🫶🏻 please keep in mind that this is a reading on current energies, these can change anytime! I am sorry for any spelling mistakes as english isn’t my first language and I haven’t proof read yet! 💖

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x Reader: Mystery Of Love

A/N: I want to write more soft!Azriel because honestly 🥲

Summary: Things between Night and Spring have been on the mend over the past centuries, yet despite the steady improvement, the shadowsinger finds himself longing to return to Spring for the chance to visit the Court seamstress

Visual Prompt here!

Azriel suppresses a grin as he watches Cass’ nose twitch, the General no doubt pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He catches the shit-eating glint in his eye, sending a glower to the Spymaster, knowing exactly what he’s subtly gloating over.

Rhys turns away from Feyre, sending a glare over his shoulder, sensing that his brothers were up to something, “keep yourselves out of trouble.” Azriel sends a shadows skating up his brother’s back, making Cass shift, “I’m serious, Cassian. Don’t get kicked out of this Court too,” Rhys adds, sending a serious look to him as he places his hand on Feyre’s lower back, guiding her down the hall.

Cassian mutters something under his breath, before turning and punching his brother in the arm, “enough of your underhanded tricks. We’re supposed to be on the same side here.” Azriel allows the corners of his mouth to curl upward, “I’d rather not have a partner who’s sneezing all over me.” His retort makes Cassian scowl, but there’s a playful glint in his eye, “fine, but you’ll be the one having our High Lady scold you for that,” the General calls as he moves after the two figures, pretending to be on his way to snitch on his brother.

“Don’t get into trouble,” Azriel calls after him. He hears the faint sounds of Cass mimicking his words, making jabbering gestures with his hands as he rounds the corner, leaving Az to himself.

He schools his features into neutrality, turning to glance out through the archways, noticing how the sun is dancing across the lush greenery. His eyes catch on a familiar female carrying a heavy-looking basket inside, stacked with earth-toned fabrics. She seems to be struggling, making his mouth tilt upward.

Turning away, his gaze drags across the large expanse of meadow, casting over the forests fencing the mansion in. On the surface it appears open, flushed with life, until the breeze nips a little too hard, or the flora grows a little too thick, showing more thorns than petals. He can see how easily the land could turn into a cage.

————————

You wobble up the steps, hauling the basket with you until you reach your designated work room. It’s a marvellously open room on the third floor of the mansion, your windows overlooking the sprawling fields, a perfect view of how the lands merge into luscious forest, ripe with greenery and pigment.

Setting the fabrics down on the armrest, you flop down beside them, resting in the afternoon sun that’s spilling through the window. You’re on the verge of nodding off when a voice echoes through the room, “so hardworking.”

You release an audible groan, mouth twisting into a grin as you lift yourself from the chaise longue, spotting the male leaning against the doorframe. “You have a habit of catching me in the wrong moments,” you complain, moving to a sitting position, “and I’m beginning to think it’s intentional, Spymaster.”

His eyes sparkle as he enters the room, walking over to where you’re half sitting, half lounging. “Or maybe you never actually work,” he shoots back, eyes sweeping across your studio. “I get plenty of work done!” You snap, indignantly, “that’s why I’m the favoured seamstress in this Court.” You bat your eyelashes at him.

He knows you’re being modest. At four hundred and twenty-three, you’re most likely the favoured in the land.

You sit up straight, “wait. I have an idea for your next gift, but I need your measurements.” He raises an eyebrow in suspicion, the mention of your so-called ‘gifts’ making him wary. “What do you have planned for me this time?” He drawls, putting on an air of defeat as he moves over to where you’re sat.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now. Would it?” You grin, unfurling a measuring tape from your pocket and brandishing it. He merely sighs, a glimmer of life sparking in his hazel eyes, “do your worst.”

“I think you’re going to regret that,” you reply, moving behind him. He tenses, realising what it is you’re after. His wings tense, skin pulling taut over his shoulders as the muscles contract with apprehension, muscle rippling across his back with the movement.

You stop shy of his back, “I can estimate, if you’re too…” scared? Nervous? Shy? “I mean, I understand they’re sensitive.” You take a step back for him to know exactly where you are, “it’s not my intention to make you uncomfortable.” His gaze latches onto yours as he looks over his shoulders, expression unreadable.

“You try anything funny I’ll cut you down where you stand,” he settles on, mouth curling up at the sides though there’s a sinister tone that has your tongue drying. It takes a moment for you to formulate a response, not really having expected him to allow you this opportunity. You smile, cheekily, “yes sir.”

You work in silence, save for the occasional request for Azriel to shift his wings to different positions, which he follows exceptionally. There are a few times your tape doesn’t span long enough; you have to press the marking fabric against his skin to note where to restart. Each time you give him a heads up along with a free invitation to veto at any time. He just nods along with your requests, indulging your curiosity each time until you’ve completed your measurements.

“I’m dreading returning,” he admits when you set the tape down, jotting down each measurement you took into your notebook, catching a glance at some designs you have sketched on previous pages. Your brow curves in sad curiosity, “why’s that?” A grin twinkles in his eyes, lips curving, “to see whatever you’ll have created.”

A huff of relieved laughter escapes your mouth, smiling to yourself as you shut your notebook, “and here I thought you were enjoying my company.” You move across the room to where you keep your fabrics, “how foolish of me.”

Azriel watches you with dilated pupils as you riffle through the materials, pulling a few scraps from the mix then returning to him, “what do you think of these?”

He arches a brow, “I’m going to need a little more guidance?” Your lips quirk up at the edges, “how do they feel? Too heavy? Too thick? Not breathable?” You prompt making his own lips lift.

“For what?”

Your eyes skip upwards to his as you make an innocent look, feigning ignorance, “oh, I don’t know… your skin? Maybe your wings?”

His grin widens, nodding his head conspiratorially, “I see.” Then he frowns, “actually, I don’t. Why do you need to know how the fabric feels in regard to my wings?” You widen your eyes slightly, pouting as if you’re clueless, glancing away from him and pulling your hands behind your back, as if to hide the evidence. He just sighs again, holding his hands out to sort through the fabric, testing each of them out.

“I like this one,” he settles on, “it feels stretchy, and heavy, but not so it would be uncomfortable.”

“I’ll make sure not to use that one,” you quip, taking the fabric from his hands, fingers brushing for a moment.

Azriel watches you return to your work bench, wondering if your hands are also tingling.

“Should I be concerned over your sudden fascination with my wings?” He speaks after having silently crept upon you. You jump, turning with a scowl on your face. You jab your finger at him, “first of all, never do that again.” You make to set your hands against his chest, then think better of it, choosing to simply shoo him away, “secondly, stop peeking over my shoulder. I have classified information in this notebook. I can’t be letting the Spymaster have a free flash.”

He allows you to walk him backward, “so I should be worried?” You keep an eye out to make sure there’s nothing he could slip on as you guide him back to the sofa, “presumptuous to think the classified information is about you and not other clientele.” Your eyes latch onto one another the moment he reaches the sofa. Your hands skim his shoulders and he allows himself to sit, looking up at you who’s between his legs.

“And no. You don’t have anything to worry about,” your tack on, turning away, “though I’ve been known to lie, on occasion.” His hand circles your wrist firmly, pulling you back to him. A smile breaks across your face as a matching one graces his features. “Sorry, that was in poor taste,” you snicker, seeing his expression. “It’s for a decent project, I swear.”

He lifts a brow to tell you he doesn’t believe you, “you’re sure it wasn’t for personal gain?” He taunts softly, his thumb brushing circles into your skin. It takes you a moment to piece the dots together, but when you do, a laugh breaks from you. You hold a single hand up in defeat, “fine. You caught me. Can’t believe you saw through my master plan so easily.”

He smiles back at you, playing along, “well, I am the Spymaster. You’ll have to do better than that.”

“And yet you let me take your measurements anyway,” you drawl, pretending to think, letting the implication hang in the air.

His smiles fades as he meets your gaze. “I did.”

The skin beneath his thumb tingles, your clothes feeling stuffy and heavy beneath his gaze. You suck in a breath, “good to know.” There’s a pause, and you wonder if it feels as long for him as it does for you. “Anyway,” you break the silence, “how’s the Night Court treating you?”

He huffs a laugh, rich and deep. You want to feed on it forever, wake up to it and bathe in it. “Not as well as you, apparently,” he casts a pointed glance across your room that’s emptier than usual, devoid of the usually highly decorated mannequins that support your various designs. “Ugh, you know I work. You just come in at the worst times.” He gives you a look that tells you he doesn’t believe a word of it, making you huff.

“You know, with all the gifts I make you, you should know how hard I work,” you snap, mouth tipping at the edges into a tell-tale smile. His features are a mask of neutrality as he gazes up at you, “I think it shows the amount of free-time you have on your hands,” he drawls, a smirk twisting the corners of his lips. You scoff, “and I think it shows I care. But if you’d like me to stop, you need only say the word,” you taunt, raising a brow expectantly.

He huffs a soft laugh, your blood heating at the sound, body lightening, “I would never dream of depriving myself of your luxuries,” he flirts, making you roll your eyes.

“One day, Shadowsinger,” you grin, “one day I’ll create something so obnoxiously beautiful even your endless patience won’t be enough to overcome it.”

“I suppose until then, you’ll just have to keep trying. But I assure you, your efforts are in vain, dear seamstress. My patience is indeed endless, and your humour is boundless. Overall, your company is a pleasant bonus with every sojourn I must take down to this wretched Court.”

Your mouth drops open.

He cocks a brow expectantly, and you snort a laugh. “I have absolutely zero idea what you just said, but screw you.”

His lips tilt, “I confessed to enjoying your company, my lady.” He brings your knuckles to his glorious mouth, pressing a kiss to the pockmarked skin from your time spent as a seamstress. “‘My lady’ indeed,” you snap, but not pulling your hand away, “you’re cunning with your words, Shadowsinger. But I’m aware of the tactical benefits to flattery and so refuse to trust a single word that comes from your gilded tongue.” You smile, satisfied.

A wicked smirk dances over his elysian mouth, “my gilded tongue can do more than just flatter, my lady.”

You cock a skeptical brow, “pray tell.”

He grins, “as silver-tipped it is, words will not suffice for my talents. They’re practicalities that must be demonstrated.” This time your brow dips in concentration as you attempt to match him, “I do hate to confess my loss, but you’ve quite confused me with your courtier’s mouth.”

His thumb brushes cheekily over the knuckles of your fingers, your eyes following helplessly, “this is my form of retribution - your form of payment - for every so-called ‘gift’ you have created.”

You shake your head, brows curving, “oh for goodness sake! I can hardly understand a word when you speak like that. It does my head in.”

He laughs at your frustration, “then I have served my purpose.”

“Your purpose is to boggle my mind?” You retort, one hand lifting to the side of your head as you pretend to massage and ache from your skin. A grin breaks on your mouth, despite your stoic attempts to conceal it. “My purpose,” he repeats, thumb stilling, “is to bring a smile to your face.”

This time you don’t laugh, or attempt to brush him off. A flush lifts your cheeks as you look down at him, sizing him up, “do you mean that, Azriel?”

“I would not lie to a lady as noble as yourself,” he mocks, a teasing lilt to his pleasurable voice. You purse your lips at his reply before smoothly lowering yourself to his lap, settling over one of his thighs, leaning against the solid warmth of his chest.

With the proximity you’re able to feel his breath catch, his hand tightening over yours as you allow the connection. “One word,” you remind him, gazing up into his hazel eyes, “and I will stop entirely.” You shift further against him when he remains quiet, taking you in silently as if afraid you’ll turn in a fright at the slightest of movements. Utterly ridiculous, really.

“One word, Azriel,” you breathe, words brushing over his mouth, “and we can pretend this was all part of the jest.” Your hand unlatches from his in favour of pressing against his chest, sloping over the broad framework of his shoulders. Your own breath stutters a bit when his hands drop to your waist, one settling at the small of your back, dangerously low. Should anyone walk in at that moment, it would look positively scandalous.

“I’ll conceal everything, if that’s what you’d prefer,” you murmur over his lips, “even from you, spymaster.”

“Never.” The words are dragged from his throat, roughly spilling from his mouth as his fingers press into the soft fabric of your clothes. A small smile graces your features, before you’re gently pushing against him, mouth catching over his.

It’s hesitant, both of you curious to see how the events will unfold. His lips feel like heated silk beneath your own, pillowy and plump as you move against him. You pull away, eyes latching onto his before he leans forward, capturing your mouth again with his own, his hand supporting your back as you’re taken by surprise.

A faint moan slips from your mouth to his, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he pulls you against him, tongue pushing in as he tastes you. He groans when your fingers thread in his inky hair, fingers brushing delicately over his skin, oscillating in smooth, reassuring patterns.

When you eventually manage to untangle yourself from his mouth, you’re panting, staring into his hazy eyes that clear as the set on your own. “Gilded tongue indeed,” you pant, softly, tracing smooth marks in his silky hair. A glint of mischief shines in his hazel eyes, “I aim only to please, my lady.”

“Would you like to know how to further delight me, then?” You breathe, unable to remove you eyes from his own. “Gods, tell me.”

“Touch me as you wish to be touched,” you whisper, “I want to learn what excites you, Azriel. I want to become your necessity and your indulgence.”

Your forehead presses to his own, hands coming round to cup his jaw, pulling back as you tilt his head. “Please, let me love you,” you breathe, uttering that silent prayer you have kept so securely, “allow me this one desire.”

His eyes are pools of reflection, mirroring the adoration you know has revealed itself to him. The male nods, a slight coil of satisfaction settling in your lower belly at reducing him to actions.

He kisses the answer into your mouth, reverence flowing with every press of his tongue, every brush of his fingertips, every steady beat of his heart. He gives all of it to you.

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