#but its been hard not to take it personally when all the effort you've put into honing those skills

[paper-mario-wiki]

Could you explain how Ambrosia is able to come back after dying?

1

Sure yeah, I'll give it a shot.

[Fursona Lore/ Mild Existential Horror presented in charmingly primitive MS Paint style under the cut]

2

[At the top of the panel there is the label "conceptual space (currently being created. The middle is labeled "THE UNIVERSE, REALITY (the other)". The bottom is labeled "CONSCIOUSNESS, REFLECTION (the self). The very bottom of the panel reads "OTHER, FREAKIER BUT LESS IMPORTANT STUFF" ]

To keep it brief, a person is when a certain amount of consciousness slips upwards into reality. Consciousness is, like the laws of thermo dynamics [sic], a fundamental property of the universe.

3

I'm sure you've heard of the sticking-a-pencil-through-paper metaphor for theoretical wormhole travel, right? Staying within that visual metaphor, imagine the moisture in the air around that "piece of paper" as what consciousness is. It creates tiny, imperceivable changes in the surface and makeup of the paper. Imagine a microscopic rain cloud making a tiny fraction of the paper a little bit soggy. That's what you are in the universe. A tiny soggy fraction of a massive piece of paper. (That's why you feel so small btw).

Of course, putting it into that metaphor IS greatly simplifying it, since in real life things like time and space sorta overlap, ya know? Because they're entirely separate dimensions of measurement. Consciousness is the same, it is everywhere in the universe all at once, but only after it seeps in from a place that is exactly where we are, but elsewhere. 4D stuff is complicated sorry if that's not super clear ha ha.

4

Normal people happen when a bunch of that stray potential-consciousness starts stacking more and more layers of reality on top of itself. Sort of like those pastries that you fold butter into and then fold it like 10 times and that makes it so theres like a billion layers of butter and dough and butter and dough and butter and dough and on and on and on. But with, uh. The other stuff. Consiousness and matter from the universe.

Speaking semantically, that's all the little tiny organisms that work really hard to make you alive. Like the biome in your gut, or the bacteria in your tissue and blood cells. Look it up, 43% of the human body is made of bacteria. Like, that's just on google.

Anyway, all their effort culminates in an increasingly complex meat shell that constitutes a person.

5

For the sake of practicality, we can imagine the way consciousness "seeps in" to the universe is like heat coming off the sun. The two overlapping infinite planes radiate into each other like heat radiates off the sun.

That clear? Heat from the sun. Remember that, it's important for the next part.

6

I'm sort of like a solar flare.

My consciousness, in its raw form, was so concentrated that it was like a tiny shooting star straight from the source.

Also kind of like a kidney stone, I guess.

7

Since my consciousness (which, to be clear, is approximately the same "amount" of consciouessness as anyone else, just all smooshed together into a single clump) is smooshed together into a single clump, the shell forms naturally as "reality" settles onto it. The "shape" the consciousness takes is basically the same as your body or anyone else's since the framework of both entities are the "same" on the "outside". Thus the "shells" turn out "similar" too.

Sorry for all the quotation marks, it's hard to talk about concepts outside of the third dimension in third dimensional terms, and like. I also am not super sure about this stuff either. I'm only relaying what I've learned from the scientists but some of it goes over my head.

I like to think I'm clever but like. I'm not a genius.

8

So here's the part where me and you are different: When your shell breaks apart (when you die) it's because the consciouessness had been escaping your shell, like air from a balloon, and the physical structure can't support itself anymore. Or, like, maybe you just fall over and hit your head on the concrete one day and pop the balloon all together.

Either way, the consciousness escapes from the pressure, and either goes back "down" where it came from, or goes upward into conceptual space, which is sorta being constituted through forces exerted in the physical universe. Well, I mean, really it's more of a product of a reaction between consciousness and physical space. Whatever I'm getting off topic.

The point is the shell breaks cuz the balloon pops. I think that was my point.

9

Now that you get all that, you can probably deduce on your own how and why I'm able to keep "coming back".

It's cuz I'm not really "coming back", I'm still here! The shell representing me here was just lost.

10

And while the facade may not look precisely the same every single time...

11

I remain the same.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎Pick a picture: 🐇🩵What guides do you want to hear right now?🩵🐇

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🩵If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩵

🐇Masterlist🐇

🩵Pile 1: Queen of Swords, Ace of Swords and 4 of Pentacles.

It is essential that you start to trust yourself more. You have incredible potential that can take you far and help you achieve all those dreams you long for. However, sometimes you put obstacles in your way that prevent you from moving forward. It is time for you to realize that those limits are only mental and that you can overcome them.

Take a moment to clear your mind and focus on what you really want to achieve. If you put in the effort and work hard, you will see that you can achieve your goals. But it is also essential that you believe in your abilities and talents. Self-confidence is key to being able to show the world what you can really offer.

You have a personality that can shine and attract others, you just need to put aside those doubts that hold you back. Instead of getting stuck in your thoughts, start embracing your charisma and showing it without fear. Remember that you have everything you need to succeed, so go ahead, you can do it!

🩵Song:

🪻Pile 2: The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles and 2 of Wands.

There are a lot of positive things coming your way. All the hard work you've been doing is going to pay off, so don't get discouraged. It's normal to feel a little frustrated or exhausted right now, but it's important to keep an optimistic attitude, because what you've been wanting so much is just around the corner.

You will achieve great things and people around you will notice. However, it's essential that you stay grounded and don't forget your roots. Humbleness is key on this path, and remember that every step you take brings you closer to your goals. Your effort and dedication will not go unnoticed, and that's something you should celebrate. You have a voice that resonates strongly and has the potential to inspire many. I'm sure you'll soon see the impact you can have on others, and it may be sooner than you imagine. So keep going, keep faith in yourself and your abilities, because the best is yet to come and you deserve to enjoy every moment of this journey.

🪻Song:

🎀Pile 3: King of Cups, Knight of Pentacles and 3 of Cups.

It's time for you to take a break and celebrate everything you've achieved so far. It's essential that you find a space of calm in your life, where you can focus on the here and now. You may feel a little confused right now, as if you're not clear about where you're going, but in reality, that's part of the process. Life has its ups and downs, and sometimes, getting a little lost is what allows us to rediscover our path.

I feel that taking advantage of these moments of calm can be very. It is in these moments of reflection that you can connect with your true desires and passions, discovering what really motivates you and what you want to do throughout your life. So, instead of worrying about what is to come, allow yourself to enjoy this journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

Remember that not everything has to be resolved immediately. Sometimes, answers come when we least expect them, and situations tend to fall into place naturally. So relax and trust that everything will fall into. Enjoy every step you take, every small achievement, and don't worry so much about the future; the important thing is to live in the present and learn from every experience that comes your way.

🎀Song:

🩵🐇Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🐇🩵

[luna0713hunter]

I'd die for you

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.

Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."

You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.

"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"

"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"

You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"

"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."

The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."

You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.

"I'm going!!"

"Good luck with him!"

You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.

It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.

As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.

"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."

"Zoro,its me."

When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.

"...come in."

You take another breath as you finally open the door.

Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.

"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."

Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying

"its not poisoned,is it?"

"i was cooking,what do you think?"

Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily

"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"

"i didnt even say anything."

"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."

You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.

"...give it here."

You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.

"And why would i?"

"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."

And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.

"was that pause really necessary?"

"just give me the damn bowl."

You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.

You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.

"so?how is it?"

Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.

"it's the best soup I've ever had."

There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.

Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.

At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.

"hey,hey. why are you crying?"

You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.

"i almost lost you Zoro..."

"but I'm-"

"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"

When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.

"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."

He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.

Alive and safe

"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."

At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"

"really."

And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.

"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free

Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization

My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4

Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.

You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.

And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.

So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.

Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.

Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.

Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!

Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.

[hero21us]

What’s Wrong with Trey?

Trey had always been a star. A record-setting sprinter with dreams of Olympic gold, his relentless drive and focus made him a leader both on and off the track. But over the past week, something had changed.

It started innocuously enough. Trey received a package from "009," a cutting-edge sportswear company known for its experimental technology. The first few outfits were nothing short of miraculous. They improved his agility, boosted his endurance, and even seemed to quicken his recovery time. Trey’s performance skyrocketed, and he began to feel unstoppable.

The final item in the package, however, was different. A sleek black Fred Perry rubber polo shirt. Its material glistened in the light, and Trey hesitated before putting it on. But the promise of unparalleled performance pushed his doubts aside. The moment he pulled it over his head, he felt a surge of power, as though every muscle in his body was primed for greatness.

Trey became obsessed with the shirt. He wore it everywhere, not just to workouts but to meetings, social gatherings, and even to sleep. He was convinced that the shirt was the key to his newfound success, and he wanted everyone to experience the same benefits. He began to preach about the virtues of wearing rubber for all activities, especially the black "Fred Perry" shirt.

“You don’t understand,” he’d tell his friends, his voice oddly distant. “This shirt… it’s transformative. You should all try it. Imagine the unity we’d achieve if everyone embraced it.”

Trey began skipping practice, missing workouts, and obsessing over the shirt. His usual vibrant personality became subdued, his conversations revolving solely around the virtues of rubber clothing, particularly the black Fred Perry polo.

His teammates, Sam and Jordan, grew increasingly concerned and decided to intervene. They headed to his apartment after a missed practice, hoping to get through to him. Trey’s apartment was filled with rubber garments, all of them untouched. It was clear: the black polo had a hold on him that no other item did.

"Trey, we're worried about you," said his best friend, Sam. "You've been acting differently ever since you started wearing that shirt. We miss the old you."

Trey's eyes lit up with a zeal that made his friends uneasy. "You don't understand," he insisted. "This shirt is amazing. It’s like it has a power of its own. You should all try it!" Sam and Jordan started bringing up memories from Trey's past, reminding him of all the milestones he had achieved without the rubber shirt. "Remember when you broke the school record for the 400 meters? Or that time you led the team to victory at the state championships?"

Jordan showed him pictures from those glorious moments, each one a testament to his dedication and hard work.

Sam chimed in, "You didn't need any special gear back then. It was all you—your talent, your effort. Don't let this shirt define you or make you lose sight of your dreams."

They questioned him about his ambitions, gently reminding him of his goals and aspirations. "Trey, you used to talk about winning gold, about going to the Olympics. Don't give up on those dreams," Sam urged. “You just won this trophy which qualifies you for the Olympic trials in a few months.”

For a moment, Trey’s eyes softened. He reached for the trophy, his hand trembling. A flicker of the old him seemed to emerge as he touched the trophy. “I… I remember that,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “But it feels so distant now.” But then his expression hardened, and he pulled back, the black rubber catching the faint light as if to remind them of its presence.

“I haven’t abandoned anything,” Trey said, his voice eerily calm. “This shirt is my path now. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”

Sam and Jordan, saw the momentary struggle etched across his face. Determined not to lose him, they decided to take matters into their own hands. They each took hold of the rubber shirt, pulling with all their might.

What followed was a frantic, desperate battle. Trey fought them with a strength neither of them had ever seen before. It was as though the shirt amplified his power, giving him near-superhuman endurance. Sam and Jordan wrestled with him, trying to get a grip on the slick, rubbery material, but it clung to Trey’s body as if it were alive.

“Hold him still!” Jordan shouted, grabbing at the collar of the polo.

“I’m trying!” Sam grunted, locking Trey in a bear hug.

"Come on, Trey! Remember who you are!" Sam shouted, his voice breaking through the fog.

"You've achieved so much without this shirt," Jordan added.

Trey’s resistance was feral, his movements almost inhuman.

Sweat dripped from their foreheads as they pulled and tugged, their determination unwavering. The shirt seemed to resist with an almost sentient force, but their combined effort began to make a difference. Little by little, the rubber gave way, inching off Trey's body.

Trey let out a guttural scream, his eyes wild with fear and rage.

With a final, collective effort, the shirt tore away, falling to the ground. Trey gasped, feeling a rush of relief and freedom wash over him.

As Trey’s breathing slowed, his friends knelt beside him. “Trey? Are you okay?” Sam asked. He nodded weakly, tears streaming down his face. “I’m… I’m free. Thank you.”

“Here put this shirt and jacket on to stay warm” Jordan insists.

The friends helped Trey put on a shirt and his gold jacket for warmth

“What was that thing?” Jordan asked, glancing nervously at the shirt laying nearby on the floor.

Trey sat up, his expression haunted. “It wasn’t the shirt. There was… more. Every night, I was compelled to wear a gas mask that came with it. The fumes—it was like they rewired my brain.

The black rubber polo empowered me, gave me focus, intensity, synchronization and clarity to help the team to win, but the gas… it truly corrupted me. It made me a part of something bigger, something I couldn’t resist.

"Every night, I was instructed to wear the gas mask. The gas treatments were intoxicating, making it harder and harder to act normal. I was told to spread the love of rubber and polo while appearing to remain my old self, to bring others into the fold. But each day, I could feel myself slipping further away from who I was. The team became irrelevant. I could no longer pretend. Being one with the collective and increasing its numbers consumed me.

Sam shuddered. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I couldn’t. It wasn’t just physical—it was psychological. Every time I tried to reach out, the collective’s influence would pull me back. I wasn’t myself anymore.”

The next morning, Trey returned to practice, though the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. The memories of his time under the polo’s influence haunted him, but his friends reminded him of his strength and his dreams. Slowly, he began to rebuild, focusing on the passion that had always driven him.

[strayseraphine]

I regret saying that I love you | one shot

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

summary: Being in a "more than friends less than a couple" relationship is hard for you, especially when the person you're with is one of the most wonderful you've ever met. Despite your best efforts, you can't handle it, so you make a heartbreaking decision. mostly angst, a bit of fluff in the end, hurt/comfort

3 426 words

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

This might not be the best what I have written, but I had to. I did it for myself to have a happy ending that I might not have in real life, I just had to get some tings off my chest.

choi san masterlist | general masterlist | stranger things masterlist

"What's up, dear?" San's voice broke the silence. His warm hand gently glided up and down your arm, fingertips barely touching it yet you felt as if they were leaving a burning trail behind. It burned as much as your throat tightened from the lump that grew and caused tears to fill your eyes. Despite how hard you tried to bear it all, despite how hard you tried to push your feelings aside...you couldn't handle it anymore. It was too strong.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now." You stood up and started picking up clothes from the floor. "I feel sick."

"Hey, in that case, you should stay, let me take care of you." he said grabbing your wrist. Although the room was dark, you could see the gentle pout on his face, which squeezed your heart even tighter. You snatched your wrist from his hand, dressed quickly, and left his apartment saying only a weak "sorry" goodbye.

Your phone didn't stop buzzing in the cab, you knew it was him, but you didn't dare answer it. When you entered your apartment, you saw 7 missed calls and even more messages you didn't read.

you: just entered the house, I'm going to bed. Good night.

After sending the message, you turned off the phone and immediately moved towards your bed, where you felt safe enough to finally let out the emotions that were tearing you apart from the inside. 

You sat on the big leather couch listening to the samples that Hongjoong planned to add to the new songs, you knew each other since childhood, he knew he could trust you, so before and during the debut and long after it you were always present in his life, you were like siblings to each other. This is how you met San. San, whose name appeared on your phone screen for the tenth time today. The memory of last night was still fresh and painful. You locked your phone and put it face down. Hongjoong stopped the music and looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Have you suddenly become a billionaire or do these constant phone calls have to do with the San asking everyone if they know what you're doing and where you are?" he asked.

You didn't answer.

"y/n... we've known each other since forever, do you think I'm that stupid and blind not to notice that there's something between you two?" he didn't let go.

"I don't know what to tell you..." you said quietly looking at the floor. You knew that what was between you and a member of his group would not please him, because both you and San were like family to him. You didn't want to put him between a hammer and an anvil.

"I really don't want to pressure you, but-"

Hongjoong didn't have time to finish his sentence when San appeared in the doorway.

"y/n please talk to me," he said, ignoring the leader.

"I'll leave you two alone."

As the door closed behind your friend the atmosphere started to get too tense. Your heart was pounding like crazy and starting to hurt. The pain you felt was connected to the realization that this is the end. Everything is going to end right here and now.

San sat next to you on the couch, but did not look in your direction. He too was aware that today would not have its happy ending.

"What do you want to know?" you asked quietly.

"What's going on? Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" the questions came from his mouth awfully fast, you knew he had been thinking about them since the night before, you knew that, like you, he hadn't slept a wink through it, you knew he was worried, and that was killing you even more.

"I can't take it anymore San..." you said, interrupting his verbosity. "It's already too much for me. I thought I could handle it, that I was strong enough, but I can't. I can't do this anymore."

Hearing your breaking voice, his heart slowly began to break as well. He thought that what was between you gave you joy, but now he realized that he was also hurting you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do to you. "Talk to me please, we've always been able to talk about problems, it's something that makes us strong, remember? Our strength." He turned to face you. His eyes were filled with tears.

"Do you remember when we started to be much closer with each other?" you asked.

"Of course."

"Back then I thought a relationship was the last thing I wanted. I didn't feel ready, the very thought of letting someone close made me scared and uncomfortable. But then suddenly something changed between us. You showed me that not every guy in the world is a complete asshole. You made me feel accepted, not judged, appreciated, you made me feel loved, San. You were an amazing friend to me, and when we started spending more time together...when we listened to music together, played games together, watched anime and dramas, the way you devoted your free time to me made me feel important. Even when you were on the tour and we were hundreds of miles apart, our online conversations, falling asleep together with the stupid cam on, the way you started calling me all those pet names, writing good morning and good night messages, the way you didn't hide it and reminded me that you were thinking of me, that you liked looking at my pictures, when you reminded me that I was important to you..." You didn't know if each word brought you relief or more pain. "I don't even remember when our innocent hugging turned into all those kisses, and it went even further, it all happened so terribly fast, but I wanted it so badly... The worst part is that it wasn't just because of that that I fell in love with you, I fell in love with you seeing what a wonderful person you are, and that hurts me even more."

"Y/n... I thought we already talked about this..."

"I know we talked about it, but you wanted to hear everything."

"Okay, go on."

"You have a heart of gold, San. Sometimes too good, and in truth you deserve the best of everything. The goodness you have in you is huge, and I feel damn grateful to have you in my life, but there is one thing I regret."

"What?" He, too, was no longer able to hold back tears.

"I regret saying that I love you."

This sentence was like a powerful punch to his stomach. 

"Before I said anything you never held back your affection toward me, and since I did, I've noticed that it's much less, less often, and I can't stand how it hurts anymore. You gave me something beautiful, and then it was less and less..."

"y/n-"

"No. Maybe it's stupid but do you remember what bedtime messages from you looked like in the beginning? As time went on, you stopped using even silly hearts, and later you didn't even let me know if you were going to bed at all anymore. You know me San, you know that I pay attention to details, you know that I notice changes in behavior and you know how it affects me, so you know perfectly well that in your case, especially in your case, I won't miss it either."

"I'm sorry..."

"When I confessed to you how I felt and asked you who you thought we were, you said more than friends but less than a couple. And I agreed with you because that's what we are, but I can't do it anymore. Especially since I did it there are times when you don't respond to my affection. It hurts San, it hurts more than the rejection because I don't know what's going on, I feel lost at that point. I feel like the closer you get to know me the less you like me just don't know how to tell me. I feel like you were driven by a momentary fascination with me in the beginning and now it's slowly disappearing, but still, sometimes there are flashes. These flashes every time make me forget this awful feeling and I am happy again, I cling so terribly to these moments of closeness and warmth that you are able to give me... I understand your situation and I understand that you don't want to be in a relationship with me, but I can no longer maintain the kind of relationship we are in." San looked at you with pain in his eyes. His silence spoke more than a thousand words. "Y/n, I never wanted you to feel hurt," he said.

"That's not the point, San, I just can't live in uncertainty any longer. Sooner or later you'll find someone, and I won't be able to stand by and watch if I don't get rid of the feelings I have for you right now."

He lowered his gaze, and his shoulders slumped inertly. "I understand," he whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. I always wanted to be a support for you, someone you could count on."

"I appreciate that, I really do, and you were that person for me. You were a wonderful friend, but that's what happens when friends start acting like a couple without being one. You're a great person, San, and to be clear... I don't regret what happened between us, because you really opened my eyes in some aspects. The only thing I regret is that I wasn't able to keep my feelings secret, if it wasn't for that, your behavior wouldn't have changed and maybe somehow things would have turned out differently, maybe I would have been able to hold out longer, but the fact that you are aware of my feelings and we can't do anything about it is too hard for me to bear."

The silence between you was long and heavy. San finally raised his eyes "Can we still be just friends? I need you in my life y/n." he asked quietly. "I still have you in my heart."

"For this moment, no. I'm sorry."

"y/n, please don't leave-"

"I'm sorry." You said running out of the studio.

Days passed, and he felt increasingly lonely. He recalled every moment spent with you, your laughs together, your conversations, the nights spent on the webcam when you were far away from each other. He would give up a lot now to be able to call you and fall asleep seeing each other on the small cell phone screen. Every day without you was a void he couldn't fill. Your absence was like a wound that refused to heal. He tried to focus on his work, on his music, but everything seemed pointless. Every song he tried to write, every note he played, reminded him of you. He began to realize that his world was incomplete without you. He missed your presence, your smile, your voice, your warmth. 

He was sitting in his room, going through your old messages and shared photos. You were right - the further he scrolled, the fewer of them there were. 

San: You deserve someone who hugs you when you're down, who reciprocate your love language, who brushes your hair and appreciates you

San: I appreciate you so so much and you deserve every good thing coming your way

San: Communicating with you is really easy, being able to communicate and being understanding makes us strong 🩷 Overall I'm very happy with u and appreciate your personality a lot

San: Just know that you are loved, your feelings are valid, I appreciate you a lot and you get all the affection I could give 🩷 sleep tight and nice dreams only tonight!

San: Okay but since we gotta go I really want to finish this on a positive note, you're such a beautiful person with a pretty personality. I'm glad we got closer like this, I appreciate you so so much, you've become a comfort person for me, stay how you are 🩷 Good night and sleep tight, much love!

San: I’m thinking of you all the time 24/7, every day of the week

Why did he stop?

His feelings for you never changed, so why did he limit showing how important you are to him from the moment you confessed your feelings to him? The further he went, the more apparent it became that the effort put into your relationship appeared mostly on your part. His were sporadic, sudden, definitely not as frequent as in the beginning.  He could not understand it. After all, the realization that someone loved and missed him was filled with positive feelings, it was not scary for him, not when he thought of you. Maybe it was because he knew he couldn't give you what you wanted? That he couldn't give you more? But actually why couldn't he? After all, he wanted to. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be yours, he wanted to remind you without restraint how important you were to him and hold you in his arms whenever he had the chance to do so.

Why couldn't he see earlier how much he loved you?

Slowly he began to analyze your entire relationship. With each memory, he began to realize that his feelings for you were deeper than he ever wanted to admit. All those moments when he thought he was just protecting you were actually moments when he was hiding his true feelings. You never had a problem reminding him that, according to you, he was a wonderful person, and ironically you couldn't see that wonderfulness in yourself.

You were always there for him when he needed you. When others turned away from him, you were always ready to listen to him and wipe away his tears. At times when disagreements arose between you, you were always able to talk about everything and clarify. He remembered how your words were able to comfort him, how your messages were something that made him feel not alone on the other side of the world.

you: I hope you are having sweet dreams right now, remember that you are a wonderful person with a heart of gold, you deserve to be happy, you deserve the best. You are loved and you are not alone, when you read this in the morning... have a happy Friday Sannie 🩷

you: remember that you are loved and you deserve everything what's best, nasty mood happens but it will pass, it is not permanent, I am here for you

Simple words. However, he knew that they always came straight from your heart, that they were sincere and genuine. They were the ones that always made his heart wrap itself in pleasant warmth. You also deserved such messages, and the fact that he stopped writing them to you even when you needed them made him feel even worse. He let you down, somewhere along the way he stopped showing how he felt thinking it was obvious, but even if it was obvious, that was no reason to stop showing it. 

Now that he lost you, he couldn't stop thinking about how your laughter filled his heart with joy. Every small gesture, every warm word - all of it reminded him how special you were and how much it hurt him not to have you.

He realized that his fears and anxieties were irrational. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted, but in reality, it was you who gave him more than he could ever imagine. Your love and devotion were priceless. However, sometimes we fail to appreciate the treasure we have unless we lose it.

San sat in his room, looking at his phone, which still lay idle in his hand. He stared at the black screen hoping that your name would immediately appear on the screen. He felt overwhelmed with emotion and helplessness. 

"San, you need to pull yourself together," Hongjoong said one evening as they sat in the studio. "It can't keep going on like this."

He shrugged his shoulders without raising his eyes. "It's okay, I just need some time." Pretending to handle the situation was becoming increasingly difficult for him.

"It's not just 'some time,'" Wooyoung said. "You're shutting yourself away, avoiding everyone, and it's clear that this situation is wearing you down."

San finally raised his gaze, and his eyes were full of pain. "It's too late now. I have destroyed everything. I wanted the best for her, and instead I broke her heart."

Yunho, who was always a good listener, put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe it's not too late. You need to talk to her. If you love her, you have to give yourself one last chance, everything can be fixed."

"I failed her." he whispered.

Jongho interjected firmly. "Everyone makes mistakes, San. But true love deserves to be fought for. Think about how much y/n means to you. Do you really want to lose her because you're afraid? Do you remember how many times she fought for you? When you were having worse times and she sensed that you might be drifting apart? Then she always fought to make sure it didn't happen, now it's your turn."

"Now the situation is different..."

"Bullshit." Hongjoong interjected. "I didn't like the idea of you two together, but what happens when you're apart is even worse. Y/n doesn't deserve a part of your heart, she deserves it and you in full, if you know you are able to give it to her, if you want to give it to her, do something about it. Do something before it's too late."

A few days later, San gathered his courage. He went to your apartment, ready to be honest. When he stood in front of your door, his heart was beating like crazy. He pressed the bell and waited, feeling how every second seemed like an eternity. You opened the door, and your surprise was obvious. "San? What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, y/n," he said, looking you straight in the eye. "Please, give me a moment to explain."

You invited him inside, and he sat down on the couch, feeling the tension rising. "I realized that I love you, but I was afraid of this feeling. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you wanted. But now I know that I want to be with you. I want to give you everything I have. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. Please give me one more chance."

"San..."

"I am so sorry, y/n."

"San, I need to know that you can be honest and open about our feelings. I need to know that you are sure of what you are saying."

He took your hands in his, looking deeply into your eyes. "I promise I will be. I want us to build our future together. I love you, y/n, and I never want to lose you again. I know it won't be easy, but I want to try. I am more than sure of it, y/n, you are worth it, you are worth everything."

You were silent for a moment, listening to him with mixed emotions in your heart. His words sounded sincere however, you could not forget the pain you had experienced, but at the same time you saw and appreciated how hard San was trying to explain his feelings.

"San... It was very difficult for me. I thought I had lost you forever."

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't want you to suffer. I was a coward because I was afraid I wasn't ready for the kind of relationship you deserve."

You nodded, trying to deal with your emotions. "I still love you, Sannie." you whispered after a moment.

He lifted your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. "I promise to try to be better for you."

You took his face in your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks with your thumbs, then moved closer to him and rested your forehead against his. "Just be yourself."

A slight smile appeared on his face, and a moment later his lips found yours. Finally, everything was in the right place.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE PURPOSE? WHAT ARE YOU MEANT TO DO? WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR?

From Left (Pile 1, 3) Right (Pile 2, 4) Middle (Pile 5)

PILE 1 - 'HEALERS OF THE NILE, PROTECTORS OF THE EVE'

Psychic Tarot - Heartache & Loss + Sacrifice + Self-Master

Heart Oracle - Balance + Joy & Stability + Choose Your Battles + Sadness & Isolation

A lot of this pain you have transmutes itself into laughter, joy, and appreciation for life itself. A lot of people adore you and enjoy being around you because you heal them with just being who you are. You guys may of had a childhood that separated you from others. You could of been bullied, or felt like an outcast in some way. Some of you could have also dealt with depression or some sort of heartbreak that made you who you are today. You are a beacon of joy to others and without you a lot of people wouldn't have been able to see the light. When you feel like you're hiding there is always something that forces you back into the spotlight. You are like the sun and you've been brought here to show people what its like to live in your power, your truth and exploring the gifts God gave you. A lot of people who are depressed themselves, carrying pain and trauma will see your light and we'll see that there truly is hope in this world. You remind people that giving up is not an option, and you yourself get up everyday trying to make the world a better place to exist. So if no one ever told you thanks for all you've done, all you've been for them. I'll say it for you. You're efforts have not been unnoticed, and in due time you will see that the healing work you've put in will be another persons story that gets them out of bed. I'm not joking.

You're made for so much more, and you know it. Allow your vibe, your presence to be the journey. You don't have to do anything more. Just being yourself in this world is enough.

God bless you.

PILE 2 - 'GIVERS OF SUCCESS. MORPHING INTO YOUR TRUE REALITY.'

Psychic Oracle - Truth (Sideways) + Firm Foundation.

Heart Oracle - Seek the Truth + Win or Lose + Master + Victory & Success + Daydreams & Decisions (Sideways).

You guys are a big deal in the astral realms. You guys have an infinite connection to the spirit realm but through out life you guys weren't sure how to build that relationship with the divine. Some of you are a bit stubborn, hard headed, and even a bit arrogant. But it takes time to surrender to the divine. It takes patience, practice and diligence to agree with your life's purpose. With that being said, a lot your gifts are calling you to be an influencer in some way. Yes, I said it. You're called into the spotlight, but in a way that benefits the community and society as a whole. You guys are starlight with this alien consciousness that deserves to be noticed by the masses. People can't get their grip on you, and that's okay. Your purpose is equipped for bigger things, big magic I call it. Your called to be at the top love, do what you will with that. You came here already knowing what's within, I apologize if anyone or anything convinced you otherwise. You'll have that on your road to success. They'll never get why it was them who had to wait for the success they looked for, craved even. But you, never showed despair or an angst for not getting what you wanted. It was simply just not your time. Divine purpose is in letting the brain connect to the physical realm and find things to create during that time. You have big dreams kid, so let your voice, your mind, and your presence be the movement. Everyone will open their hands in order to help you guide the way to the Kingdom of Heaven. Influential Order. Dynamics Changing. Opening Doors To New Paths. There Is One Way, And It's Yours.

Take this time to learn yourself, you have more gifts and abilities than you know.

God Bless.

PILE 3 - THE SIREN. THE EMPRESS. THE KING. THE WITCH. THE POWERFUL MATRIX ASCENDER.

PsychIc Oracle - Accelerated Motion + Movement, Choices, Decisions + Passion Ignited

Heart Oracle - Dreams Coming True + New Vitality + Crown Chakra

There's power in your name. Your voice holds energy that can't be mistaken as weak. You have abundance written all over you, yet you still don't see your purpose. What makes you love your life and what is meant for you. A beautiful life. A world meant to be enjoyed and embarked on with full autonomy and free of the judgement of others. There are times where you wonder what roads to take, but there are none. It's just you, living, breathing, succeeding and just being in love. You have 'no purpose' to fulfill. Your purpose is to just be in enjoyment of the world and to view the stars as a magical infinity where all your dreams can come true. You have to learn that not everything is about you in this lifetime, that your world isn't like others. So don't make it out to be. You're blessed in areas that others work hard to get. Please remember that you're a goddess, a god, a king or queen or whatever you choose to label yourself as. You don't have to work hard in this life, let me remind you, you came here to succeed NATURALLY.. That is a gift. You're honored in past lives and this one you're honored in this one. You just have to make way for yourself to receive. Be open to the divine and what its promised you. Just take time being seen for all that you are, and watch how things come for you with ease and grace. No distress. Just practice gratitude in this life, thats literally you're calling. Special Presence. Love & Life. Appreciation Of The Stars. The Most High Watches Over You. Joy In Your Flesh. Being Present For The Moment. Enjoying Wonders Beneath The Soil. A Garden Awaiting To Bloom.

God Bless.

PILE 4 - LOVE & BALANCE. SPIRITUAL HEALING. MORPHING INTO ONE.

Heart Oracle - Spiritual Union + Balance + Master

Bonus Reading: New Vitality

A love from the Gods. Creators of the Promise Land. The adams and the eve. The Apple & The Tree. The Great Awakening. A spiritual love that surpasses time. A love worth dreaming and waiting for. Your higher-selves needed this. So you could show the world what is true. There is a billion stars in the horizon, but yet you two showed the world that the universe lives in you.Theres so many realities one could take, yet this is the one for you. You've been called, chosen for this. Your calling is connected to your romantic lover. Its graced with protection, love, grace, connection, authenticity and a reality that no one knew was possible.

The energy is felt across thousands, and this love is worth a million times more than that. You'll be protected in spaces that are deserving to see you and come in contact with you guys grace. Always remember to keep quiet about your union as some people's evil eye can try to infect itself into you guys love. Not all has to be private, but again, not many souls can view this perfect union. You are God's Angels on Earth.

You are connected to a higher love, a union that meets pass social standards and beliefs. God Bless.

PILE 5 - PERFORMING FOR THE UNIVERSE. STARS. CALLING AWAITS YOU ON THE LARGEST STAGE OF GOD.

Psychic Oracle - Firm Foundation + Memories Of Love + Stand Your Ground

Heart Oracle - Shine + Hope + Heal

A God Or Goddess that's been called to be on stage in some sort. Artistic abilities are strongest when you show them to people. You might be a leo or have leo placements. You might have 5th house placements. You might have neither. Either way, you have a destiny that makes you shine like one, thats for sure. You have been given the grace to keep these efforts flowing. Sure the humble beginnings made you feel like this was going no where, and there could of been weight you were holding that kept you beneath waters. You have to give yourself time to see yourself in that light again, thats ok. Feelings of being ungrounded might of been common in the past, but now you are more aware of your talents than ever before. And that counts for something. You've been given the green light to be a star since birth. You didn't know at the time, but at some point it became apparent. Give yourself time to grow in your talents and gifts. The stage is awaiting your gracious gifts. We really get a kick out of it. Also the number 17 in tarot is significant. 17 came up twice for you and its a simple of hope and making a wish come true. You can have the world if you asked, don't forget it. Always be you in a world that tells you otherwise. If you ever felt scared of your own gifts, now is the time to cast out that vibration. You're meant to be seen in all your glory. Remember it.

Unique talents will be what gives you the greatest joy & its what keeps you feeling alive.

Ase! God Bless.

[the-s1lly-corner]

How would follower!bishops react to a disciple!reader who's very giving and accommodating to them when they first join the cult? As in giving them care packages and showing them around, doing it out of their own free will. The reader knows who each of them are too maybe?

Follower!bishops x kind!disciple!reader

Anon you don't know what you've done because this is exactly how my main cotl OC is I'm about to get silly

Also I could NOT find a decent gif ignore Danny

Notes: reader is GN, you are a disciple of the lamb, you're one of the few people in the cult who knows who the bishops are (something something its been a very long time since theyve all been taken down, passage of time)-- implied that reader is either immortal via a gold skull necklace or other means OR they just keep up with history, follower bishops, more platonic than romantic, crushing if you squint

CWs: none

LESHY

if youre a bit of a pushover he might put some of his chores onto you- will grumble and mutter to himself if you put your foot down though... average youngest sibling activity who had a taste of godhood blah blah hes spoiled

genuinely doesnt know if he feels offended that youre putting so much time aside for him or loving that youre doing your best to make things as comfortable for him as possible- are you doing this for pity or for something else?

will get jealous if you apply the same energy to his siblings, youre his buddy!!

probably thinks hes swaying your faith before you just outright say youre doing all of this out of the kindness of your heart- still teases the lamb about it to stir some drama

HEKET

feels she doesnt need a caretaker or a friend, shes not going to let anyone think that shes gone soft after falling from grace- she takes the longest to warm up to your kindness

either lashes out at you or the lamb due to feeling that youve been assigned as a babysitter to make sure she doesnt do anything- sure, the lamb has no reason to trust her or her siblings to behave themselves in the cult BUT that doesnt make it any less humiliating!

she does get used to your company with time- youre stubborn... talking together is easy because youve taken the time to learn sign language and youre more than happy to teach her

you leave her baskets with various teas and medicines to help soothe her throat on days where it hurts more- due to strain or weather or its simply one of her worst days... shes thankful for your effort but she shows it through guiding you on what works for her and what she likes

KALLAMAR

torn between him expecting you to tend to his every need and him being too nervous to push things and risk punishment from you or the lamb- you are a disciple after all, you can do things other followers arent permitted to do - and... oh youre... spending time with him because you genuinely want to?

he doesnt know what to make of it, too scared to really try anything to risk you leaving him alone

i personally headcanon that hes hard of hearing, probably deaf in one of his ears... he can still hear just barely- he takes you up on any offers to teach him sign to help minimize problems down the line

loooooooves the little care packages you leave for him- treats, goodies, and generally stuff he can use to upkeep himself- its nice still receiving "offerings" after everything!

SHAMURA

you... actually come in handy in helping keep them on track as well as reminding them of things they need to do or things that have been said- things have gotten so much harder since theyve lost their crown so your help is appreciated

one of the things you leave for them is ink and journals so they can keep track of things on their own when youre not around as well as generally granting them a space to put down their own thoughts in a private setting

your kindness makes you easy to talk to, you both do a lot of that... well... actually its mostly you doing most of the talking. shamura does a lot of listening but they prompt you to keep going or tries to find a subject to fill the silence

even if you were sent by the lamb to keep an eye on them theyd understand- if they were in the lambs place and decided to spare them theyd have someone to keep an eye on them... not really that offended about it plus they get a companion!

[okikeu]

BIJOUX.

EIGHTEEN. you ever had beef with a balloon?

written — 3k words

You hated balloons. Aluminum or plastic, opaque or transparent, filled with helium or oxygen—it didn't matter. If it could be called a balloon, you thought it deserved to burn in Hell.

Sunoo teased you for your unrelenting repugnance all throughout high school; Showing up to your birthday parties with a singular balloon (just for you to take out an earring and pop it the second it was on site) or making your contact photo in his phone the Dr. Doofenshmirtz balloon. He never understood your one-sided resentment, and you never cared to explain it either.

It was too much labour to lug around a justification, so you merely wrote it under your name like a senior quote with no credited speaker.

Because who would possibly understand that you simply hated the effort? Wasting all of that breath and energy pumping some gas into delicate plastic, just for that one, riotous person to pop it and send your efforts snapping into dozens of damp, rubbery shards.

Too much energy for too little reward.

So, as you grew older, you started being that one, insubordinate person. If you sacrificed the efforts before someone else did, maybe you could spare some of the dignity and respect clinging to the sides of the poor plastic walls. Maybe then, people wouldn't try to waste their time to begin with.

Maybe that was why the kids in your elementary school slowly stopped inviting you to their birthdays, the vibrant envelopes disappearing one by one until you were 11.

And maybe it's also why you started to sit at the back of the class, away from the jokes and the rapport that fostered between seat-mates.

Maybe it's why you began to forget to the names of the people you'd been in school with since kindergarten, and why you were never given a chance to learn the names of anyone new in high school.

Maybe it's why your mouth was never dry and your throat was never sore from talking, your lips were never split from smiling too wide, and your stomach never hurt from laughing too hard.

Maybe it's why when Sunoo approached you at the tail end of your first year, you had walked right past him, unaware he was even directing his attention at you in the first place.

Inclusion wasn't something you quite knew the definition of. Merriam-Webster had tried its best to break it down for you, but foreign letters and example sentences that were more difficult to understand than the definition itself made it impossible to ever fully grasp.

If you had survived that long without knowing what inclusion was, then Sunoo could survive without knowing why you hated balloons.

One day, when you've exasperated every conversation piece after years of friendship and are left to talk only about the weather, maybe then you'll bring it up—a sentence or two to put his running thoughts at ease:

You didn't see the purpose of putting in so much effort to blow up a balloon.

Hopefully, that explanation would be enough.

You supposed you were a balloon as well.

The groupchat laid open on your desk beside the pile of paperwork you had yet to sign. It had dwindled by that point, a mere three signatures left to scribble away and toss into oblivion.

Your name looked unrecognizable, both on the white sheet below your fingers and held within the gray bubble of Yujin's message.

You felt bad—you always did when passing on plans. But something about each message that popped up made it feel like all of your organs had been scooped out of your body and put back in.

You would've gone with them if the sinking in your gut wasn't unmanageable, and the gnawing on your cheek would subside for two seconds. But when your jaw got sore with unease, as if someone had plunged a sour candy into the hinges, you thought it would be best to excuse yourself with work that could have been done in ten minutes the next morning.

When your phone went dim for the nth time that evening, you reached over to tap it alive, just narrowly missing the time frame before it turned off. You didn't know why you had kept it on for the past 30 minutes, but you reached over each time it threatened to fade away regardless.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone from the table and swiped it open again. Though, before you put it back down, you noticed the little blue number in the top left corner.

Clicking out of the groupchat, your messages were spotless, except for the bolded, unopened words of Lee Heeseung.

You opened the chat.

I'd love if you could come by today to see the progress so far 😄

If blowing off your friends made you feel bad, the blunt denial towards Heeseung earlier that morning hit you like a baseball bat as you reread your exchange.

Your driver had been late that morning to pick you up for your meeting, and you had waited an extra 15 minutes outside in the foggy, humid air. You had time. You could have checked their progress. You could have said yes. You should have said yes.

Everyone seemed to love Heeseung, if their last conversation in the groupchat said anything. From what you had heard thus far, he was willing, easy going, fun, and a good worker.

From what you had heard.

You hired him—he was your solution to a problem you created.

Yet, you hadn't seen him once in the last week he had been at Le Désir. The last week that he had been working under you, for you.

Your eyes grew heavy as a headache formed behind them.

You hated balloons because they were too much effort, and now you sat alone in your office on a Friday night because your friends are all bonding over something you weren't included in.

But every time you went to a birthday party with balloons littering the ground, each one had been filled with the breath of someone who loved and cared enough to give away their own, precious air to make someone else happy.

The purpose wasn't in the effort of the direct payoff, the purpose was in the effort itself.

Your friends were off gushing about their new, work best friend's hilarious incident that afternoon without you because you had brushed him off. Because you decided not to be there.

Maybe, effort isn't the price you pay for nice things. Maybe effort is the nice thing.

You slid your phone into your pocket as you abandoned your office. Your heels clacked down the hallway in tandem with the A/C above you, the buzzing loud as day with no one else in the building running around to drown it out.

Your hands grew antsy and your feet ached in your shoes through the elevator ride down to the Style and Design Department. When the white, digital number finally flashed '1', you basically pushed open the doors yourself and beelined for where Liz had kept herself, Sunoo, Sumin and Heeseung cooped up for the past week.

Liz's office (which was more a little studio than anything else) was illuminated with ivory Christmas light along the walls, rather than harsh overhead lighting. You reached for the switch, hoping she hadn't unplugged them before leaving because you truly had no idea where the regular light switch was.

They flicked on with fervour, inviting you in and practically screaming at you to never leave.

The place was drowning in rolls of black fabric and cutout pattern paper. Little boxes of safety pins and sewing needles sat all about, accompanied by a measuring tape strung over each chair.

You walked over to the platform in the corner of the room, surrounded by mirrors as if it was a bridal gown boutique. Beginnings of shirts, trousers and jackets were thrown on the surrounding floor.

Progress, more than you thought, too.

As you stepped off the platform, a little Polaroid wedged into the frame of a mirror poked out at you. You approached the photo, invading its personal space until you could see every detail clearly.

It was fresh, taken in the clothes she saw Sunoo and Liz wearing the day before. Beside the two of them, who were smiling and making hearts on each other's cheeks, were Heeseung and Sumin, copying the same pose.

His grin crinkled his eyes and the faint dimple on his cheek rendered him almost unidentifiable. His hair was black—you knew Liz and Sunoo had dyed it for him, but you had yet to see it yourself—and around his neck was a necklace you swore you saw in Liz's lookbook.

You smiled at the sight. Progress. If only you had been there to see it.

You tried to turn away, but your soles rooted themselves to the floor and you scanned the Polaroid selfie until the image was branded on your brain. You bored your eyes into the grainy photo until the taste of salt on your lips broke your attention.

You lifted your fingers to your lips, feeling the dampness decorating them that led back to your tear-ducts. You clawed at your cheeks, wiping away the senseless tears as you sniffled, pushing back the emotion that poked and prodded through your throat.

"Want this?"

You whipped around at the question, suddenly hyperaware of your presence in Liz's studio. No one else should have been in the building by then, so your heartbeat picked up tenfold as you stumbled back into the mirror.

Your hand had flown to your chest, but as you took in the figure in front of you, it slowly cascaded down your front until it fell to your side again.

"Fuck, Heeseung, don't do that," You breathed out, swallowing your terror and pushing off of the wall you'd fallen into.

"Sorry, I should've said something when I walked in." He winced. He prodded his hand out further towards you. "Take it."

You glanced down. A tissue was held between his fingers. Heat climbed up your neck knowing Heeseung had walked in on you crying, but you supposed the tears staining your face were a dead giveaway anyways.

You snatched the tissue, mumbling some sort of 'thank you' before dabbing at your eyes and nose.

Heeseung rocked back and forth on his heels in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he glanced around awkwardly.

As much as you wanted to run away, you recognized this for what is could be: an opportunity. You had blown off Heeseung before, now was your chance to make it up.

"So," You began, crumpling up the tissue and tossing it in the small trash can a couple of feet away, "Why are you here?"

"I forgot my headphones," He simply answered. "What about you?"

"Had some work to get done."

"Oh."

Heeseung ran his hand through his hair, occupying his attention around the room again. As his bangs moved from his forehead, you caught sight of the almost-healed cut you gave him in his kitchen earlier that month.

You weren't so gauche then, so you didn't have to be now.

"The new hair looks nice," You said, cursing yourself when your attempt at not being awkward died at your feet. "Liz and Sunoo did a good job."

"Yeah, they did," He laughed, running a hand through it again. "Did you come down here because of what I messaged you earlier?"

Your lips moved to say no—telling him that his words had no effect on where you currently stood would have protected your dignity. But when you saw his eyes, wide and full of nothing but hope and innocence, above his faint smile, you were suddenly okay with parting ways with your conceived pride.

"I did." A toothy grin overtook his face, casted in warm shadows from Liz's lights. You couldn't help the way your lips stretched further in response.

"C'mere, then, I wanna show you something." He stepped forward, grabbing your forearm to excitedly guide you to the pink futon at the other side of the room. His hands were hidden within the sleeves of his sweater, and you didn't fail to take note of the skip in his step. He was like a kid at the zoo, if you ignored him being nearly 23 and in the confines of a dimly lit studio.

He pulled you down beside him on the excuse-of-a-couch before rushing to grab something on the ground beside him. When he popped back up over the arm of the futon, he held a box in his hand.

"What is this?" You half-laughed, your hand unconsciously moving to pick at the white string holding it shut.

"The progress I wanted to show you," Heeseung answered, smiling down at you like his whole life was in that box. He pulled the string undone, taking off the lid and sliding it over to your lap.

It was full of half-finished jewelry, Polaroids of Heeseung in different hairstyles and makeup looks, and at the very bottom, one folded up shirt.

"This is the necklace I was wearing in that photo," Heeseung told you as he pulled out a chain. He let it pool in his palm as you stared at it. "Liz didn't like how the charms looked so she took them off. Sunoo has some ideas for imagery and motifs in the concept film, so him and Liz are gonna make some new, handmade charms to go with it."

Your gaze shifted from the deconstructed necklace to Heeseung, whose admiring smile told you all you needed to know about the man beside you. You had done a good job picking your model, and all of the gushing your friends did over him was well-deserved.

He dropped the chain back into the box before reaching for a stack of Polaroids. You could only imagine how much of your yearly budget was going towards them, film for those cameras is so fucking expensive—

"I'd never worn eyeliner before." You snapped your attention back to Heeseung. The pile of photos was on his thigh and a singular one rested between his thumb and forefinger.

You peered over to look at the photo. It was Heeseung, still with black hair dye stains on his forehead, with his eyes darkened and narrowed with some subtle, dark eyeliner and pinkish eyeshadow.

He turned to you, bumping your shoulder a bit when he noticed you examining the photo too. "Did I pull it off?"

You nod earnestly despite his light-hearted, joking tone. His mocking smile grew flustered at the response, ducking his head and stuffing the picture at the bottom of the stack.

"Hey! I wasn't done admiring Liz's work!" You argued, shoving his shoulder.

"Come in on Monday and admire it in person."

"Maybe I will."

"Really?"

You nodded again, reaching for the next photo on his leg. This one had his hair back with a few strands intentionally separated to hang in front of his face. Typically, Heeseung wore his hair down and fluffy, so the change made him look like a completely different person. More confident, older, a little less like a teddy bear wearing the skin of a man—and all he was doing was showing some forehead.

"You should wear your hair like this in the shoot," You recommended. Heeseung glanced over from the photo he was looking at to see what you were talking about.

"Do I look better with it up?" He queried, a curious furrow to his brows.

You shook your head. "You'll look good no matter how you do your hair. But you look more intimidating like this."

"Noted." He sent you a curt nod before his head jerked a little and slowly turned back around to you. "Are you saying you think I'm good looking?"

You couldn't help the laugh that reverberated past your chest. Still fighting through giggles, you said, "I wouldn't have hired you if you weren't, dumbass."

He shrugged. "I just like to hear people say it sometimes."

"You're a freak."

"So I've been told." After another push of his shoulder, Heeseung leaned back against the couch. "Can I ask you something?"

You looked back at him, the couch too small to turn your body to face him. "Sure?"

"Why did you disappear once the project started?" He asked. The smile that had not once fell from your lips suddenly cracked at the seams, falling ever so slightly until the corners of your mouth were parallel again. Heeseung must have noticed because within a second his hand flew to your shoulder. "You don't have to say, an-and I'm not mad, if you're worried about that. But...I don't know. I guess I assumed you would be around for more than just signing my contract."

"I really shouldn't be," You started. You weren't sure why you were giving him an explanation you couldn't even provide yourself with. "I'm the CEO, it was odd for me to even be involved with this project so heavily back when Shin Yuna was our ambassador. But it was my passion project, so when she pulled out and we had to redo everything—and I mean everything—, it didn't belong to me anymore. When Yuna left, so did all of my ideas. We started fresh, and I didn't have a reason to be around anymore. Liz has the designs under control, Sunoo, Beomgyu and Yujin can handle marketing and promo, Yeonjun can deal with legal proceedings for royalties and whatnot, Jay has the budget covered, and if something goes wrong, Ryujin deals with it. My job was to fix my fuck up. I did that."

Heeseung was silent for a moment, glancing down at the floor as your words permeated the air. When they finally diffused around him, he tilted his head.

"Do you want to still be involved?"

"What?"

"I mean..." He paused, shifting so that one of his legs was tucked onto the couch. "The way you were before? You say you're not around as much because you don't have a reason to be, so let me give you one. I want you around. You picked me to be the model for your campaign. Show me why."

You sat there for moment, your chest tightening with every breath, filled with the need to speak, yet your tongue failed you.

"Monday?" Heeseung broke the silence. "I'll see you down here, right?"

You smiled. "I'll be here."

"I hope you know I'm holding you to that, Ms. L/N."

"I know you will," You said. "And please, you can just call me Y/N."

masterlist | prev | next

SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.

taglist! @heeheesang @choppedballoondetective @kang-ulzzang @jakeyverse @randomanothercreature @ohsehunskz @ikeublr @realrintaro @illvding @missychief1404 @milanco @right-person-wrong-time @t0asterexe

[greenerteacups]

Hey GT, glad to see you're back! I'm still halfway thru Lionheart (just read the world cup chapter, what a delight) and your notes got me wondering.

I'm sure you've probably answered this before but how do you manage to make the world feel so rich? I'm not that into the fandom so I don't know If there are some things fanon agreed upon or if it is your own musings about the magic world. Like Draco explaining to Hermione about portkeys or how many languages Krum speaks.

How do you decide what's important enough to get a mention? Where do you go when you need answers and Canon is not enough to provide it?

Thanks for the kind words, and for the question! It's a matter of personal taste, like anything. Some writers prefer an athletic, streamlined plot, with only as much worldbuilding as you absolutely need (how does Panem run a command economy of 4.5 million people primarily on fossil fuels when its coal district has a population of less than 10,000? fuck off! who cares! they're Y/A dystopias about a TV show where teens beat each other to death!). Some writers, on the other hand, won't bother to start the story until they know the pH of the soil in every region of the world they're writing about. I'm somewhere on the second half of the scale, in that I'll give details that aren't strictly necessary to the plot, just because I like to feel like I'm writing about a world where real, extraneous things can happen. Some details are foreshadowing; some details are Special Mouseketools that will Help Us Later; and sometimes, you just get to know a cool fact about portkeys.

I guess part of the fun of building out a world is getting to think about Everything, which is what my brain normally does. I have a pretty broad body of literature as a starting gate, so there's plenty of room to play. E.g., when I started writing Krum, I thought about how he's not super fluent in English in canon, and that naturally made me ask why, because he clearly has taken English, so either he only started lessons recently or it hasn't been a priority for him; and then I went "wait, what's his first language? Bulgarian, right? But Durmstrang isn't — hang on—" and then I pulled up an actual map of Europe, which led me to realize that he wouldn't likely be speaking his first language at Durmstrang, which means he already had to become bilingual just to start his wizarding education, and that explains part of why he doesn't have a ton of time/effort to spare for a third language, plus he'd probably have a translator available whenever he traveled with a team because he's a B.F.D. — etc., etc. And then you keep thinking about that until you remember that you're supposed to be writing a fic, and you scramble to get back to doing that. Only now, you have worldbuilding! Congrats.

To try for an even halfway useful answer to your question: worldbuilding becomes most important when it creates limitations, because limitations define your characters and give them chances to develop/reveal themselves. So the details of portkeys become important because they explain the limitations of magical travel, which is a big nebulous ??? in the original series, since the introduction of teleportation via Apparating means that all other forms of transportation become inefficient by comparison. It also means the limitations introduced by travel — that is, not all characters can be in all places at once — also go away, because anyone can be anywhere immediately. From a narrative perspective, this sucks massive horse ass. Hence: I dumped a shit ton of limitations on Apparation (i.e., (1) it requires a ton of energy, (2) it's really fucking hard, (3) it's really fucking dangerous, (4) it's more of both the farther away you're going, (5) it's more of both the more people you take with you, (6) you can't Apparate without a clear destination in mind which means (7) you need to have been there already, and so (8) some people prefer not to do it). Hence, I also put limitations on portkeys (i.e., they have to be set up well in advance, you need to identify out both destinations precisely beforehand, and the calculations are difficult to do). Those limitations, and the Watsonian explanations you create for them, are your worldbuilding. They're what make the world feel real, because they give it grit and character. They give you a more complete sense of what you can and cannot do.

The rest of it is taste and preference, really; it's what interests you, and what parts of the world you want to explore. That's going to be unique to every author, and that's the beauty of worldbuilding — it reflects the parts of the world that you like to think about.

[noellerain]

Antithetical ♡ [suguru x afab!reader]

noe: this man is living rent-free in my mind for days now so you can consider this fic a brainrot/love letter to this gorgeous son of a bitch.

Warnings: [ DEAD DOVE! ] dark smut, noncon/rape (reader to Suguru), somnophilia (reader to Suguru), femdom, babytrapping (reader to Suguru), profanities (vulgar words), intoxication, spitting, implied that Suguru is drugged but not by the reader, obsessive behavior (reader to Suguru), proofread once, Gojo has a cameo lol, just over all madness. [LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING! THANK YOU!]

+ BLOCK, DON'T REPORT!

[If you read the warnings then proceed to click/press the cut button, you consent on reading the dark material below.]

Suguru Geto is midnight personified. His jet-black hair reminds you of the night sky when it's void of the moon and the stars. His eyes are blackholes that can consume your entirety if you look hard and long enough. His scent smells like the Earth after rain: a unique, addicting scent that makes your stomach flip yet still brings you a sense of warm melancholia.

Suguru Geto is way out of your league. You know that. But while everyone is fawning over his annoying best friend, Satoru, your love-struck eyes are fixated on that enigma of a man. Just one look, whether it's intentional or in passing, can shake and blow you away like the flimsy petals of dandelions.

Tonight, as you stand in the dark corner of Satoru's living room while everyone else drinks and dances to the rhythm of the song booming from the speakers, the walls seem to close in on you. 

There he is, sitting on the couch with his arm around a girl. His hair is up in its usual bun; tresses hanging on the side of his face. He's wearing a simple white shirt and black cargo pants. The simplicity amplifies his good looks.

They say that he and Satoru are two different sides of the same coin. Satoru's boisterous personality is on the face; one look at him and your alarm immediately goes off. Meanwhile, Suguru's serenity is the reason why he catches people off-guard when his true colors show.

He is a fucking mastermind. He plays the good guy role; carefully making the bed and patiently inviting his victim to lay down on it. Perhaps that's their difference: Satoru's always in a rush, his thirst never quenches. Suguru, on the other hand, takes his time. You conclude that it makes the game more enjoyable to him. That sweet, sweet reward of fucking someone dumb after all the efforts you exert may be Suguru's personal brand of drugs.

He leans closer to the girl, whispering something in her ear. She laughs and the bubbling jealousy in your chest tastes more bitter than the liquor you're currently drinking in a red cup.

It's a vicious cycle of his. For two years now, you've been nothing but a bystander. Always in the corners, watching. You've seen him lay out an elaborate plan, working his way down to different women's panties. When he finally gets what he wants, he puts his pants up and throws them away like ragdolls. Then he puts his façade— back to square one again and again and again.

Your face contorts into a frown when he smoothly puts his hand on the girl's knee. From your perspective, it looks unintentional; like his hand just happens to be there. She smirks at him, obviously enjoying the situation she's in. Your eyes narrow on his long, slender fingers, now gently rubbing her skin. It's fucking funny how life slaps you in the face over and over; there he is, the object of your obsession, sitting next to someone else, to anyone else, to everyone else but you.

His fingers slide up her thigh and give them a squeeze; the hem of her miniskirt bunches up on her lap. Your mind is beginning to go into overdrive. It's so unfair. So fucking unfair. What do others have that you don't? You take a big gulp on your drink.

"Oh? What a pleasant surprise!" Satoru's loud voice snaps your mind to sanity; your soul back to the dark corner where you're standing.

You look up at him as he strides lazily over to you, a red cup in his hand as well. He's wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that hang loosely around his waist. "I don't usually see you at my parties. What's a pretty girl doin' here in the dark?"

He leans against the wall and takes a big gulp on his drink. You don't humor his attempt for a chat. You can still feel your simmering envy as you look down on the brownish liquid in your cup.

"Not gonna entertain me, huh?" He laughs; an annoying sound that grinds your ears. "I understand, though. After all, I have a better vision than my best friend over there."

You whip your head to him, confusion all over your face. Heart beating loudly in your chest at the mention of Suguru, his one and only friend. Your lips are pursed and your brows are deeply furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He drinks again, his electric blue eyes glimmering with malice. When he puts down his cup on his side, he gives you an impish smirk. "Heh. Watch."

He pushes himself off of the wall and begins to walk away. But before he's beyond your earshot, he yells: "Second floor, last room on the West wing!"

You roll your eyes. As usual, Satoru is a menace. A baffling menace. You do not get a single word he says and you have no plans on trying. After all, guys like him are meant to be heard, not to be listened to.

Your eyes go back to Suguru. He's still on the couch but fortunately, his hands are now off the girls' body. Instead, he's pressing his forehead with his thumb while his eyes are shut tight as the girl next to him continues to babble away. The sight strikes some chords in your heart. You notice the creased skin between his forehead. It only goes away temporarily when Satoru appears and hands him a red cup.

You gnaw on your bottom lip as he taps on his forehead again with the pad of his thumb. You glare at the girl whose red lips continue to move. What is she even saying to him?

Your mind begins to wander. If it's you who's next to him right now, you're fairly certain that you won't be talking at all. You'll stare at him and listen to everything he says; hang on to every word. But Suguru is not selfish like Satoru. You know that it will be a conversation between the two of you; not just him yapping away like Satoru does.

Your heart skips a beat just by imagining how he'll look at you while you talk. He will nod, smile... Laugh. Gives you pennies for your thoughts. You pray to a higher power for the chance though you're certain that you won't be able to mutter anything coherent.

A few minutes pass by and the girl leaves. Suguru also leaves and a part of you dies inside again and again every time you see him with another girl. Where are they going? Is he going to sleep with her? Kiss her, touch her, claim her in places your mind does not dare to imagine? You finish your drink in one gulp before storming to the kitchen to grab more.

Your childishness tells you that your anger and envy are valid. After all, you've been pining over Suguru for two years now. Every time you try to move on, there is a pang of guilt in your heart. You never had him but he lives in the trenches of your heart, his name emblazoned in your mind.

But the rational part that's left of your intoxicated brain tells you that it's wrong. That you have no right to feel this way. Suguru doesn't even know you. How can you let him put a chain in your limbs and control you this way?

You wipe the liquor that dribbles down your chin. You look up and see through your hazy eyes that there are less people in the living room now. What time is it? You look down on the bottle of alcohol that you're cradling in your arms. Hiccuping, you realize that you drank half of its contents.

You stand up and the world around you begins to spin rapidly. Your knees feel like boiled noodles, unable to keep themselves upright. But still, you persevered. You leave the living room, determined to see Suguru. You decide that the madness has to stop once and for all. You can't live your life—

"Second floor, last room on the West wing!"

"Fuck you." you mutter beneath your breath as you hit your head with your fist repeatedly. For some reason, Satoru's voice decides to pop up out of nowhere.

You hiccup and begin your search to find Suguru. You look for him outside, trying to spot him in smaller crowds. At the pool area, staring at the people fucking on the water, the bathrooms… he's nowhere to be found.

You crawl your way upstairs, opening the rooms but either they're locked, empty or some people are fucking like rabbits inside.

You squint your eyes as you peek through the crevice of another door you opened. Another couple is fuck— wait. The jeans pooling on his ankles, the tight black shirt and the messy mop of white hair...

"Satoru," you drawl, inserting your head through the space between the door and the doorframe.

He whips his head, bullets of sweat dripping down his face as he smirks. "Hey. Anything I can do for ya?"

His breath is labored as he speaks; his hips continuously drilling against the girl's cunt. You can't see her from the angle but knowing Satoru, he's into beautiful girls. Beautiful, whiny girls. Her moans sound pretty, too.

"Where's Suguru?" You ask, blinking slowly.

"Told ya," he laughs. "Second floor, last room on the west wing."

"K," you sigh. You close the door and pray for the poor girl. You've never seen Satoru in action before but gods, are the rumors right. He is merciless and bursting with vigour.

You drag yourself to the last room on the West wing. Frankly, you don't even know what you're going to say to him. Does he even know you? Is he going to even hear you out?

Dread fills you to the brim when you stop in front of the door. What if he's not even here and Satoru is just messing with you? Worse, what if you see him fucking someone else inside? Gods.

You slap your cheeks to try and get a hold of what's left of yourself. It's a good thing that you're still somewhat sober despite drinking half of that bottle. You thought the liquor will make you forget but here you are, about to make the most stupid choice you've possibly ever done in your life.

Staring hard at the door, you take a sharp breath in. Your shaking fingers close around the cold knob before slowly turning it. The door finally opens and you feel your heart throb in your chest.

You peek inside then gasp in surprise.

"Su... Guru?" You whisper, pupils blown wide from the sight sprawled in front of you.

He's laying down on the mattress with his luscious long black hair spilling on the pillows. His eyes are closed and his chest is heaving erratically. Bullets of sweat drip down his forehead and there is a deep frown on his face. He seems asleep but he looks far from being peaceful.

You enter the room; your eyes languidly take in the curves of his shoulders, the muscles on his arms and his chiseled torso that are illuminated by the shaft ray of moonlight pouring through the window. Suguru always opts for loose clothing; his naked image that you've sculpted in your mind is a drastic comparison to the real thing. You thought he's going to be built like the gods but... He isn't. There is still softness; a mix of godhood and humanity in his features and your fingers twitch with the desire to touch and hold him.

Your eyes travel down his black sweatpants. The poor garment is hanging on for its dear life on his prominent v-line. His lower abdomen has a pathway of light black bush that leads to his...

You swallow thickly. There is an indentation of his dick against the fabric. You know it's wrong but your body begins to feel that familiar warmth. Here he is, the source of your mirth. The destination of your late night adventures when deep-seated desires stir. The subject of your dreams, of your fantasies, the muse of your high as thick hot cum dribbles down your inner thighs while you gasp for air; reality settles and you feel pathetic with your fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt.

You should leave. But then what? Remain on the sidelines, longing for him, envying other girls and touching yourself to the idea of him? Here he is, served with his walls down. If you can have him once, just once…

You close the door. The sharp sound of the lock's bolt sends tingles all over your body. Slowly, you approach him. Shame burns your gut and makes your cheeks flushed. But you're here. You're here now. What matters is right now.

Slowly, you kneel in the space between his spread legs. The mattress shifts and you eye him nervously. But Suguru is still in deep sleep even when you pull down the waistband of his sweatpants and his cock springs free.

"Ah..." You breathe out, calming your heart. It's beating in your ears now as you stare at his length that's resting on his lower stomach.

The picture of his dick that you've crafted in your head is similar to the real deal and that makes you uncharacteristically giddy. It's on the longer side and its bulbous crown is pinkish in color.

With shaking fingers, you reach for it. He stays still even as your hand closes in around the base and gives him a few pumps.

"Suguru…" you whisper. The normalcy of you whispering his name like a prayer is true only in your bedroom as you touch yourself. But right now…

You continue your ministries as you stare at him anxiously. Is he going to wake up? A part of you wishes he does. Hoping that you will get to experience the stories you've heard from the women he fucked before. For him to watch you as you serve him, the memory ingraining in his mind. Your chest burns with envy again but you get a grip of yourself.

Who cares? The pad of your thumb caresses his tip. Your experience will be different. Exclusive.

You lean your entire torso down, your ass hanging in the air. You purse your lips and gather a blob of saliva before spitting it out on his dick. You use your own fluid as lube, pumping him a little bit faster now.

"So pretty, Suguru," you giggle when he breathes deeply. His cock is smooth and it's now starting to take a rigid stance. "I'm sure you taste pretty, too."

You descend your lips and pepper his length with feathery kisses. Lolling your tongue, you give him a few kitten licks, particularly the tip that you find endearingly charming.

He smells so good, too. Sweet like warm vanilla. You open your mouth and shove his length in. He's a bit longer than what you can take so your hands wrap around what's left of his dick, pumping it simultaneously as you bob your head.

He moans in his sleep, tossing a bit. Tears prick your eyes when his length hits the back of your throat. Your hands instinctively squeeze his hips, putting him in one place. You hollow your cheeks and pick up your pace, tongue swirling and licking the tip that's now leaking with precum.

"Haaa…" he gasps and you freeze.

You look at him; your eyes widen when you meet his dilating pupils. "W-what…"

He seems at loss but he doesn't push you away. Suguru blinks a few times at you as he heaves. You can almost see the cogs in his brain turn as he takes it all in.

You quickly release his dick with a loud pop before straddling him by the waist. "Shhh… It's okay."

You cup his face as panic settles in your nerves. You stare deeply into his eyes but notice that they're… absent. It's as if they are somewhere else even though they're looking at you.

"It's fine," you whisper. "It's fine. You're good. Trust me."

His head falls back on the pillows and he winces. You take the chance to finally kiss him, your legs pressing against his sides. He lays motionless, his eyes now closed. Panic dissipates from your nerves… now replaced by the thrill of it all.

You cup his cheeks and forcefully slither your tongue in. You shut your eyes and moan into his lips; he tastes like peppermint. Hollowing your cheeks again, you suck on his tongue.

When you pull away, a string of saliva keeps your lips connected. He opens his eyes, whispering something along the lines of "Who are you?"

You don't answer. Instead, you kiss and lick his skin. Worship every nook and cranny of his flesh, marking him. Your hands are all over the place too, touching him, staining his body with your shameless, scorching affection that you can no longer contain.

Your mouth envelops around his nipple as your other hand kneads on the other. You look up at him while you suck like a starved baby. He groans, his weak body trembling a bit.

"You like it?" You ask, swirling your tongue on his perked nipple. "You like being sucked like this, Suguru?"

He mumbles something that you didn't catch and do not honestly care about. Your lips go south, reaching his happy trail and his cock again.

"S-sto…p," he sighs when you press your face against his dick. "Stop… it…"

"But it makes you feel good, though…" you reply. "See? You like it. You're hard."

You shove it in your mouth again. Suguru groans like an angel as his hips buck upwards; his dick reaching the back of your throat again. He says he wants you to stop but his entire body's reaction does not match his words.

"Stop!" He screams, trying to pull away. But you keep your head in place, gripping his hips. Greedily, you suck him off until his cock trembles and spurts hot ropes of milky cum in your throat.

You pull away and swallow hard— he tastes salty. You smirk at him. He's frowning while gasping for breath.

"Wh…"

"Shhh," you shush him, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "It's alright. You taste so good, Suguru."

The words spilling out of your mouth, as well as the desire that is overtaking your body are beyond the heavens now. Your mind is in a haze and your pussy pulsates with need. You want him. You want him so bad it hurts.

"You seem weak," you whisper. "What happened to you?"

"I…" he mumbles.

You coo and kiss him again. "Shhh. It's okay. You're safe with me. I love you so much, Suguru. I love you so, so much."

You sit up on his stomach and take off your top. Your breasts spill out of the garment and Suguru can only watch with droopy eyes.

"I've always wanted you…" you mutter as you lift your hips. You take his hand and bring his fingers to your mouth to suck them.

When they're wet enough, you guide them to your aching cunt. You hold onto his index finger and use it to rub your warm clit. You keep your eyes on him as he remains still, letting you do whatever you want. He looks confused and it makes your heart ache. What's going on with him?

"Gonna put 'em in…" you whisper and slowly ease in two of his fingers inside you. 

A moan rips out of your lips when his slender fingers fit snug inside your walls. You move your hips— up and down, up and down until his entire fingers are coated with your cum.

You take them off, licking the middle finger before you align the index in his mouth. He whips his head to the side— a stubborn act of defiance that makes you annoyed.

"What the fuck? You did this with other girls, I bet. Other girls that don't fucking care about you," you angrily snap, cupping his jaw. "And you can't do it for the one who loves you? How dare you?!"

You squeeze his cheeks until his lips form a small opening. You shove his index finger in, coated with your cum. With a maniacal smile on your lips, you watch as he struggles.

"I taste good, right?"  You laugh and kiss him on the lips, tasting your own essence on his tongue. "I taste so good."

"S…sto—"

"Sh," you hush him. "Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you talk. I only want to hear you whine and moan. Understood? Such a good boy, Suguru."

You get off of him. Hastily taking off your jeans and underwear, Suguru's eyes widen in panic. Before he can move away, you position yourself on his waist, straddling him again into place.

"I was so fucking envious of the girls you fucked," you laugh. "They say you're good in bed. I'm a bit sad that you're too weak to show me but don't worry, okay? I love you. I love you so much, I'm going to make you feel good."

Suguru shakes his head when he sees you lift your hips. He winces when he feels you drag his dick along your clit, using your cum as lube. You spit on the crown before finally shoving him in.

You hiss in pain as his bulbous tip bullies its way inside you. Suguru thrashes for a bit before you finally take him all in. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you quickly move to ease the pain; bouncing your hips on his cock.

You look down and see him completely helpless. He's too intoxicated to even think straight, moreso move. It delights you to see him like this; beneath you as you use him like your personal toy.

"Suguru," you gasp for breath, leaning closer to him. "Does it feel good? I feel so good."

He whips his head to the side again but you don't care this time. You're too lost in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of you; caressing your gummy walls perfectly.

You anchor your hands on his chest and pick up the pace of your hips. It's starting to strain your legs and thighs but you're determined to reach the highest of highs. Strings of whimpers and groans escape his lips. You laugh upon realizing that he doesn't have a condom on and you're not taking any pills.

"Hey, Suguru—" your breath hitches in your throat when he hits that particularly sweet spot inside you. "You're gonna be so mad at me when you wake up tomorrow. Might as well get my fill, huh?"

It's all getting in your head. You arch your back as you put your hands on his knees to anchor yourself. You throw your head back, sliding in and out of him with ease. The squelching sounds of your skins are music to your ears.

Your mind wanders as your legs begin to tremble. God. What happens if you get pregnant? Just the thought of carrying Suguru's baby makes your entire body tingle and the knot in your lower belly tighten. You look down at him and smirk.

If by chance, you get the privilege of carrying his child, will he stay in your life? That's uncertain. But one thing's for sure and that is you will have a piece of him with you forever. A laughter slips out of your lips as the knot in your belly loosens and turns into a mess— hot cum gushes out of you and sprinkles his lower abdomen.

But you continue to move despite your shaking body. You need him to reach that high. You need him to cum deep inside you and fill your womb. Suguru's hips stutter as he lets out a guttural growl. You laugh once again when you pull out and see his sticky cum drip down your inner thighs. Quickly, you gather the fluid and shove your fingers inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

The reality sets in, akin to the times you spent alone in your bed. But this time, it's different. You don't feel pathetic. Matter-of-fact, you feel happy. Your dream is now fulfilled. This experience is yours and yours alone. And even if Suguru fucks other girls, it doesn't matter anymore. You have a piece of him in you now. You're certain that no girls had their ways with him until you. You were in charge and that made you feel powerful.

Suguru's eyes flutter until they finally close. Sweat drips down his forehead as his chest begins to heave deeply. His face does not look like he's in pain anymore and that makes you smile.

You lean towards him and kiss him for the last time on the lips before you get dressed. You pull up his sweatpants, his cock now flaccid. You don't bother wiping him clean. Even just for tonight, you want him all over you.

You leave the house with your head above the clouds; your throbbing cunt misses him already.

[mxssingmemories]

Hey can write a fic where r is tony kid (dont care for the gender) tony was called to pick up r thinking they did something bad but instead its this

Like r used bear glue and got multiple of them stuck all of the school years later r is part of the avengers and they find out about this little prank

the school incident // tony stark x daughter!reader

summary: you've always been the type to enjoy pulling a good prank. unfortunately, your newest idea gets you caught and in major trouble. what happens when your dad (and the avengers) find out?

wc: 1k~

warnings: a giant penis (NOT nsfw i promise)

a/n: this was so much fun and i am SO sorry it's so late <3

When Tony got the text message that you needed to be picked up from school, he freaked out. His brain ran through so many scenarios so fast it made him dizzy; what if you’d gotten in a fight? What if you started a fight? What if you and Peter messed up big time? 

He shook his head to clear his mind, and ran down to the garage.

“Everything alright, Boss?” Happy asked, eyebrows knitted together. Tony just nodded, and slipped into his car. The fifteen minute ride to your school was filled with worry from him, the foot that wasn’t pressing on the gas pedal bouncing up and down repeatedly. He told himself to breathe; you didn’t need your dad to walk into the office panicking like a mad man.

He pulled into the parking space as quickly as possible, rushing to the all too familiar Principal’s office. “Hi, I’m here for Y/N Stark?,” he told the receptionist. She seemed to forget how to use words when she motioned him to the back. A blush rose on her face as he left, and if it were any other time Tony would have flirted with her just to embarrass you.

The air in the office was tense, and you sat in one of the seats with a blush on your face. You looked up to see your dad’s relieved expression that quickly turned into one of frustration when he realized you weren't hurt.

“Good afternoon, Mr.Stark. I’m sorry to pull you out of whatever..business you were dealing with, but Y/N pulled something we just can’t ignore.”

“It’s perfectly fine, sir. What did she do?” he asked him, his eyes narrowing at you across the table.

“I don’t think there is a delicate way to put this, Mr.Stark, so I’m just going to lay it all out for you. Miss Stark was caught on video supergluing what seems to be a massive..sex toy,” she muttered under her breath,”with one Peter Parker. His guardian has already been made aware of this and appropriate action has been taken. ”

Tony was, for once, speechless. He looked at you, the Principal, and back at you a few times. You could feel your ears begin to turn red as the silence got longer and longer, doing your best not to burst out laughing as it would only make the situation worse. His jaw was wide open, and he finally snapped back to reality when you reached across the table to shut it for him.

“What the absolute hell?” He yelled, forgetting where you both were for a second. You blushed even harder, hiding a snicker behind your sleeve despite your dad’s very obvious anger.

“I have somewhere to be, but I hope you have a good day. Please send me an email with the information about what you’re going to do with her. I assure you this will be taken care of,” he rambled gruffly, grabbing your arm and dragging you out of the office quickly.

On your way out, you passed the foyer. Despite your best efforts, Tony peered through the blinds to get a look at the “issue.” It was big enough to be seen from the office, and this just seemed to piss your dad off more. He averted his eyes quickly. His jaw was clenched so hard, you contemplated sticking your ring between his teeth as a joke, but decided against it knowing it would only make the situation worse.

The drive home was tense. His fist was tightly wrapped around the gearshift, only taking his eyes off the road to throw a glare or two at you. The minute you arrived at the tower, he grabbed your arm once again and took you to the personal floor.

“What were you thinking?! You could have jeopardized your education! Do you realize what this will look like to colleges?!” 

For some reason, you giggled a little bit, and the giggle turned into a laughing fit. Tony quickly joined you, laughing so hard tears were coming out of both of your eyes. 

“I can’t even pretend it’s not funny anymore,” he wheezed, bending over and dramatically falling to the floor. 

“You know what makes it even funnier?” you giggled, looking your dad in the eyes. “That wasn’t even the only one!” you shrieked, putting your head between your knees as you cackled. 

This only caused you both to laugh harder, clutching your stomachs like your lives depended on it. It took about five minutes for you both to sober up from the laughing ordeal, and an extra 5 for Tony to put his serious dad face back on.

“I have to admit it was a really good prank,” he smiled at you. “Even though it was fuckin’ hilarious, you’re still in hot water. I’m going to let you go without punishment this time, little miss, but if it happens again there will be actual consequences. Okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded your head in agreement, already bounding up the stairs to tell Pepper what happened.

“TONY!” She yelled downstairs, and he braced himself for the unavoidable lecture. In his opinion, though, it was worth it.

The team was in the main living room, gathered around a few files dealing with some “official business.” Amidst the normal files, there was one that stood out. It was titled “The School Incident.”

Even though they knew they shouldn’t be snooping, their curiosity outweighed their morals, and they clicked on the file.

In it was security footage from your school, detailing the exact moment the prank was pulled. Everyone sat around the table in shock, silence filling the room as they processed what they’d just seen. Apparently, you’d decided that this was the exact moment to walk in, and the Avengers all stared at you when you made your entrance. Dropping your backpack at the door heavily, you flopped down on the couch exasperatedly. 

“Y’all. I had such a weird day, this guy named- Why is everyone looking like they just saw a ghost?” you asked, confusion spelled out on your face. Your eyes focused next on what the team had pulled up on the screen, and realization flashed in your eyes as you jumped up and ran out of the room. You didn’t even bother trying to explain. The Avengers burst out into laughter as they followed you out of the room, the ruckus so loud it Peter could probably hear it in Queens. You had no choice but to run, and run you did.

[skeletoninthemelonland]

i hope things are going alright with you so far starbs! managing a lot of stuff can be difficult and i hope nothing but the best for you. as for regarding whatever might happen with BTC, we'll respect whatever decision you'll make as your well being is honestly way more important than anything, you're an amazing artist but also an incredible person. you've done so much for the community and have inspired so many artists and people with your artworks and how you interact with your community in general. your works are astounding and I can't even describe how much I adore what you've done for all of us, even if you might not know it.

i apologize for this sudden ramble and pop up in your inbox but I just needed to write that out, i hope you're having a wonderful timezone and that everything is going well ! hoping college goes well for you

Thank you so much, and thank you for the time taken to write this message for me. Truly hope things are going well for you too.

One thing that I'd like to mention. It's been really fun to feel excitement surrounding an ambitious project like Behind The Codes. I never expected it to become so popular, even though all I had to show were old concept art pieces, a few disorganized comic pages and some character designs. It still is something very important to me, because beyond its popularity, Behind The Codes helped me a lot with mental health. I was so glad when people enjoyed it as much as I did, I felt like it was becoming a new community altogether.

So, I have a suggestion! You there, artist (writer/digital artist/musician) that's currently reading this. If you ever find yourself starting a new project and wonder "should I really do this?" or "am I skilled enough for this?", it's absolutely fine to feel discouraged by the amount of work, time and effort you'll put into something. It's okay to take breaks from it, to be disappointed with results, to give up and let go of personal projects you desperately wanted to finish. Don't be so hard on yourself, just remember to have fun, and to do what you love. No one is pressuring you to do the most perfect piece of work in the world, except yourself. If you ever decide to show it to the world, don't be discouraged if it doesn't get as much attention at first.

You have all the time in the world to do the things you want, just keep going!

[athenacodes]

the "how long does a skin take" debate has been weighing on my mind, and i figured i would discuss it a bit.

the truth is how long a skin is going to take is largely dependent on the skin itself. i've never had two skins or even two templates come out at exactly the same amount of time and effort put in, even if i were to make an exact replica of a previous skin it would end up taking less time. instead, here's some things that go into how long a skin will take.

Experience. Honestly, how long you've been skinning on that platform specifically will be a determining factor. If you're skinning for jcink, how long you've been working with jcink will factor in. The longer you've worked with it, the easier to manipulate and understand.

Skill. Literally just how long you've been coding and how much coding you do. I would argue that how much you've coded recently would go here as well but that's just because coding is easier the more frequently you've done it, in my opinion.

Project. What you are working on itself and its level of complexity, how much you have to learn to achieve it, what all you have to implement, change, manipulate, test, all of these things will factor in to how long it takes you. And If the project is for someone else? You need to double or even quadruple how long this takes for checking if something is okay, giving previews, following mock ups, discussion, changes, and everything else.

Time. How much time you can put in will determine how long it takes as well. Depending on who you are, this can be a negative or a positive. For me, if I have more time to sit and actually just focus on coding, I'm going to get more done in shorter periods of time. That said, for someone else they may be used to coding in short bursts, so trying to code longer can feel like pulling teeth. It's all coder dependent here.

Muse. It sucks to say but how much a coder is feeling a project and how into the project they are is going to factor. If I'm excited about something, I can get it done faster. If I'm working on my own project, I'm going to be speedier. It is what it is, excitement and muse is fuel in coding just the same as it is in writing.

Executive Function. I didn't really know what to name this one but hopefully once I explain it'll be easier. When coding, you have to decide when you're done, when you've done enough, when to code and when not to, when to take breaks. It's freelancing, and you have to treat it as such. This is very much easier on some than others. This is probably the hardest of all the others for me personally (shoutout ADHD) but others may find it much easier.

Anyway, these aren't all the factors but these are a few. It's hard to consider coding in an hourly wage standpoint, because different projects are going to have different needs and different coders are going to have different abilities, preferences, skills, etc. All of that said, it's all dependent on you, on your project, on your muse, on your time, on you. You, as the coder, will ultimately determine how long it takes you. How long a skin takes will depend on you.

[justaghostingon]

When History Forgets, I Will Remember

There are few true humans left in the galaxy. Askeladd would know, his mother was one of them.

While helping a young Thorfinn with his homework, Askeladd reflects on the nature of history.

There is no greater struggle in life than the task of helping with homework. Wrestling with a kid for hours to grasp the concept of a topic sentence; racking your brain to remember math you've long since forgotten; staying up late to help a kid glue a diarama together for a science fair they were absolutly going to lose; it was enough to make a person to take a short walk into the void of space.

Askeladd was half considering just locking the next person they needed tortured in a room with Thorfinn before a big math test for a few hours, and seeing how long it took for them to crack. The only thing holding him back from enacting his plan was that Thorfinn would probably refuse to let the prisoner help out of spite and then Askeladd would be stuck dealing with the fallout.

"Alright what's it today," Askeladd clapped his hands, looking down at the scowling face of his youngest crew member. "Need me to hold your hand through basic addition?" He laughed at his own joke.

Thorfinn's face tightened like he'd been sucking a limon, but he managed to grunt out, "History test."

Huh. It must be more serious than Askeladd thought. Usually Thorfinn put up way more of a fight before accepting Askeladd's help. A better man would stop teasing the boy and get straight to work.

But Askeladd was not a better man.

"What's this? Thorfinn is struggling with history? After deliberately ignoring me every time I tried to teach it to him? It's almost like he's experiencing consequences to his actions!"

"Shut up! Your teaching is shit. Nothing you talk about comes up on tests."

"Well that's just rude." Askeladd sighed. "Makes me wonder why I put in all the effort. Maybe you should go run to Bjorn instead."

"Maybe I will!" Thorfinn snapped back, jumping to his feet. This effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was not much taller than when he'd been sitting down. Ever the scrawny runt.

Askeladd raised an eyebrow and waited. They both knew Thorfinn wasn't going anywhere. Not for history.

Askeladd had not, initally, helped Thorfinn with his homework. In fact when Thorfinn was first enrolled in school, as per the laws of the Galactic empire, he'd hoped it's uncompromising schedule would keep Thorfinn off of his ship. Missing the first and last part of the year to join the summer raiding party wouldn't go over with any school, and they'd doubtlessly insisted he stay on Planet Gorm. He'd be free one murder happy kitten getting underfoot, and Thorfinn would be trapped in Gorm's School system learning his ABCs. Or so he thought.

But being the nephew of the leader of an entire planet had its downsides. Namely that certain kissup teachers and staff might decide to adjust Thorfinn's schedule so he could spend his time in the late spring and early fall online, and transition to in-person in the winter months when the crew rested in the village. Anything for the kid Askeladd was enrolling.

Sometimes he was just too popular.

The result of this had been Thorfinn going to school on the ship. Which meant when he'd had problems with said school work on the ship, there was nowhere to go to avoid the tantrums that would follow. It didn't help that Thorfinn was far to stubborn, keeping at a problem he didn't understand while letting out frustrated yells long into the night.

Eventually in the interest of his crew's functionality, he'd had to step in and try to tutor the kid. It had been an uphill battle, but after four years, Askeladd had to admit he was a little proud.

Of himself. For surviving it.

"What time period is the test over?" Askeladd asked after Thorfinn calmed down.

"First Space Age." Thorfinn grunted.

"That's not hard," Askeladd said, flipping open the review sheet, "Everyone knows about the First Space Age." Or thought they did. Funny how much propaganda the Danes could shove into their history classes. Anything to justify their betrayal.

"Here's an easy one." Askeladd's finger stopped on a line. "What does DANE stand for in the DANE Project?"

"Durability, Agility, and Neuroility Evolution Project."

"Neurological Evolution Project." Askeladd corrected. "And do you know why they chose to use this term for our empire even to this day?"

His mother had told him it was because the scientist who first created the DANEs was Danish himself, and wanted the project's name to reflect his homeland. But that detail, along with the entire planet it hailed from, was long destroyed. No one bothered to remember the names of the insignificant countries on the long forgotten planet of Earth.

As if to prove his point, Thorfinn answered, "because they were the first to go to space," with a roll of his eyes. Not a thought to the world that came before. "Can we move on now?"

"Maybe if you could get the answer right." Askeladd said. Technically, it was good enough for a test, but Askeladd was overcome with a longing to speak the truth, forgotten though it was. That someone might hear and remember it. "DANEs weren't the first to go to space. Humans were. DANEs were only the first synthetics sent out to explore the galaxy."

A foolish move. Creating a race of beings stronger than them and then sending them out to explore, believing they'd remain loyal. Oh how his ancestors had paid for that naivety.

Thorfinn looked unimpressed. "Humans don't count. They didn't colonize the planets. And they're not around anymore besides. The DANEs were the real ones who conquered the galaxy for our use."

There was pride in Thorfinn's voice, back straight, synthetic eyes shining and far to detailed to be anything but unnerving to look into. You'd never tell he wasn't human. Not really. But then again, in this age who was? In this vast universe, only a handful of true humans remained.

Askeladd would know. His mother was one.

"Wrong again," he crowed, feeling petty. "The terraformers went first. You'd know them as the people of the Anglo and Saxon systems. They made the galaxy livable for all lifeforms. the Dane may have found the new locations, but it was they who made those locations livable."

Their alliance had not been long. Soon the DANEs would covet the land the terraformers had created and turn on their kin, synthetic vs synthetic, seeking their wealth for themselves. But it still lasted long enough to colonize the galaxy.

Long enough to turn on the humans.

"That's not what the textbook says," Thorfinn frowned, looking from his review sheet to his open history book. "It just talks about how DANE strength led to our victory over the galaxy."

"Textbooks aren't always right," Askeladd placed a hand on Thorfinn's shoulder. "You've got to learn to read between the lines of propaganda."

He doubted even textbooks in the Anglo or Saxon systems would reference the war against humanity, where the created turned on their creator. To much bloodshed for a people group that identified themselves as humble followers of the Gentle Shepherd God.

No, it was only the humans who remembered, the last survivors of the slaughter, eeking out a living atop the backs of the Great Space Whales who were their only shelter. They'd made it work, even raising kingdoms upon the different whale's backs. But the great works of science and art they'd accomplished were far behind them.

Only record keepers like his mother remembered them, spending their whole lives devoted to learning one important piece of the old knowledge so that it might be passed on. Living time capsules, each and every one of them.

Not that knowledge of Earth's legends did his mother any good while enslaved.

"I'm being tested on the textbook, not what's between the lines," Thorfinn said, breaking Askeladd from his thoughts. "I don't need to know what it's not saying. I just need to pass."

Typical Danish answer. Askeladd's upper lip curled into a sneer. Keeping himself blind to the truth, content to live believing himself a superior being, when he was only the descendant of a lab experiment that turned on its makers. Just the same as the rest of the Vikings, whose synthetic hearts longed only for destruction. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered.

"It's important you brat. You need to be able to think! To know when they're manipulating you!"

"Whatever." Thorfinn rolled his eyes, looking away from Askeladd. In a quieter voice he said. "It won't change anything anyways."

Those words froze Askeladd in place, pulling him back to cold garages and stables filled with exotic creatures but never enough food, and most of all his mother's voice, still reciting to him the truth she guarded, even when her mind was long gone.

Hadn't he thought the same, when she told him the truth of this universe? That the last humans escaped earth on the grand ship Artorius. How they built synthetics in their image with a technology so advanced they were indistinguishable from people, and how they were betrayed. A truth erased by history. One no one but his mother and her people bothered to remember.

It did them no good, knowing these things. His mother's status as a true human did not save her from the cold, if anything it made her more vulnerable. No one was coming to save them as the great ship Artorius saved the last of humanity. It was only him, a misshapen, half human, half synthetic atrocity left to defend them both.

Knowing changed nothing, and yet when his mother passed he kept her words alive in his mind. Telling her stories to himself over and over again in the dead of night for fear he'd forget them. Even as he led a very band of the DANEs he hated, as he watched with indifference of the synthetic on synthetic violence they waged (but not against humans, never against humans, not as long as he was captain).

A hopeless legacy, a pointless endeavor. And yet all he had left of his only true parent.

"So cynical," Askeladd clicked his tongue at Thorfinn. "I take it this means you're forfeiting our next duel? Since your loss is predetermined after all."

"What? NO!" Thorfinn wipped his head back to turn his burning glare at Askeladd. "I'll kill you this time! Don't you dare back out!"

"No ten year old is ever going to beat a grown man in a duel." Askeladd sniffs. "But if you really still want it, you'd better stop your yapping and start listening. Failing your test will lower your grades after all, and then you won't get your fight."

"Nuh-uh!" Thorfinn snapped, turning back to his review sheet with new zeal. "I'm getting that duel, just you watch!" Pulling at his text book, he began frantically flipping the pages to find the answers.

"Kids," Askeladd laughed to himself as he watched. So easy to motivate. But at least it looked like Thorfinn had it under control now. Askeladd was free to leave.

It had been a while since he recited his mother's stories, he thought as he turned towards his captain's quarters. He should do it again now he had a space all to himself.

And maybe, one day, he'd tell them to Thorfinn. The boy already carried one hopeless legacy on his back, what was one more?

[darlingpoppet]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Thanks Jo and also to @onionjuggler for tagging me, sorry for answering so late </3 (wait since I got tagged twice should I go ahead and self-rec 5 more fics after this or is that too self-indulgent even for me??) Ah well :)

I’m not really sure what order to put these in, so I’ll just list them chronologically!

Pressed Flowers (Shingeki no Kyojin, Eruri, T)

This was the first fic I managed to get over the finish line after years of having no idea how to build a bridge to the creative writing island in my brain, and thanks to the momentum created by this one I’ve been publishing new fics regularly ever since. In a weird way this still feels like my best written fic because you know that phenomenon when you’re in the weeds developing a skill and at times you feel like you’re getting worse, in a “the more you learn, the less you know” kind of way? This was the fic where I felt the least self-conscious about my abilities so I was able to just express all the ideas I wanted to convey without thinking too hard about any of it, and idk sometimes that can be an asset to the final product (the word flow probably needs improvement though lol.) But also I’m just fond of the perfect, peaceful moment I was able to create for Eruri here.

Upon A Lazy Bed (TSOA, Patrochilles, M)

Whenever I get into a new piece of media or a new ship I really just like to stew in it for a few months, because in a way whatever you post first will be a treatise of sorts on how you view the thing… and yeah so anyway this is what I came up with after snorting pure uncut Patrochilles for the first six months of shipping it (even if Once More ending up beating it to the finish line so I guess that’s the real Patrochilles treatise, lol.) I like this one because I was able to try something new, especially because the narrative voice of TSOA was still in my head at the time so it was a fun challenge to replicate it to some degree (this is still my only 1st person pov fic to date.) I felt myself leveling up as a writer as I was working on it too, which is always a cool feeling.

Where The Dead Forget (Hades, Patrochilles, M-E)

This fic is still ongoing and even what I’ve published so far is just the iceberg tip belying all the effort and ink spilled for it for almost two years now, but I guess that’s why it’s my baby haha. Usually when I post a fic, a huge motivating factor for me is I want to hopefully add something new with my perspective and/or otherwise give myself everything I want in a story. With WTDF however my primary goal from the beginning has been taking a popular fandom trope and just simply trying to stretch my wings with long-form storytelling (because of course as expected, it has only gotten more complex and bigger in scope lol.) I think sometimes I undersell it by saying this story isn’t that original and doesn’t have any hot takes, but tbh as time has passed I’ve started to gain a perspective and an angle for it, and it has already helped launch a lot of really interesting conversations with other Patrochilles fans, so that in itself more than justifies its existence for me! The best part of a serial fic is having others going on the ride with you so I’ll always be extending the invitation to have more come along until of course I finally finish it in 2069 :)

Closest To My Heart (Hades, PZA, E)

There’s probably an undercurrent of melancholy running through a lot of my stories, considering the source materials I like working with, but this was probably the first time I got to make a story outright unsettling. I think I’ve often talked this one up as my favorite to write as well as my favorite as a finished piece so I’m almost not sure what else I can say about it but there’s just something about PZA that lights up my brain like a Christmas tree, it gives me so many wild ideas and makes me want to keep exploring these highly intense emotional states. And I love that this one was born out of those unhinged fandom group chat conversations where it’s just riffing on pure collective id until someone goes “fuck it, I’m writing this!” (And that someone in this case was me lol.)

See No ****, Hear No **** (Hades, Patrochilles, E)

I think I’m lucky that most of my own writing I personally like have also been crowd pleasers (or idk who knows maybe the reception is indeed a big factor in my estimation of quality because the in the end the “popular=good” drug is a hard habit to break, lol.) But this is definitely one I can point to and say the audience here is probably much more limited and I still think it rules :) I had a lot of fun with the concept of creating essentially two different stories out of the exact same scene because different sensory deprivations affected how each character experienced it. And also I wrote it as a gift, meaning there was that much extra love put into it! I may do a lot of serious academic reading & research about classical texts for Patrochilles but at the end of the day I was raised in the dark fandom, molded by it, and sometimes that means you just gotta turn your blorbos into holes no matter how many millennia of highfalutin academic tradition exists behind them uwu I will say though this fic probably has THE highest kudos to bookmark ratio of all my fics so I tend to think Squidward DOES like krabby patties but no worries, y’all keep your secrets ;)

Honorable Mention: I think I’m with @baejax-the-great who said your favorite story is always the one you’re currently working on, which for me means my upcoming modern au pza fic, Liminal Spaces (aka the pza dreamers au). But since it’s still unfinished and unpublished, I can’t properly recommend it, lol. Who knows how I’ll feel about it by the time it’s done but I’m having a lot of fun writing it so I hope y’all will enjoy it too <3