#g: rain world: downpour

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 4

Open Skies from Rain World: Downpour

The Edge of Dawn (Seasons of Warfare) from Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Note: The propaganda contains spoilers for Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

Open Skies:

pure bliss, with perhaps a hint of nostalgia and sadness

The Edge of Dawn (Seasons of Warfare):

The main theme of the game, centered around a character who is significant across all routes. Is it a villain song? Is it a map to the future? Your choices dictate as much. Every route is reflected through the lyrics as well.

this song makes me so emotional every time. the vocals are beautiful and the lyrics are so good. it's about feeling alone even when you're surrounded by people. knowing any happiness is just fleeting. about loving someone even though you're going to leave them. (spoilers for fe3h) to get specific, it just makes me so sad the way edelgard distances herself from others because she knows she'll have to betray or leave them eventually but she longs desperately for connection especially toward byleth, whom she admires and loves greatly, even when they're not on her side. the lyrics "open the door, and walk away / never give in to the call of yesterday" make me want to sob because she's determined to create her own justice and her vision of an equal world, but that doesn't mean she can't be emo about it. she loved byleth, the black eagles, she loved the empire, that's why she wanted to see it better. fuck all the haters edelgard there's a reason the theme song of this game is yours! and it's good as hell too!

[justalurkerthatcanspeakfrench]

I give to you : the paincat / enot / inv / softaniel / ???

Can't we just all agree on one name for them-

[cowblep]

Spamtong and his pipis- I mean danglefruit

[thewandererh]

monk’s obliviousness heLP—

[shitpost-rain-world-confessions]

im so glad this blog exists for levity <3

here's my confession; rivulet mains are based and so are gourmand mains in co-op gameplay

.

[starsinthesky5]

what was songbird and joe’s first kiss like?

a/n: I WAS WAITING FOR THIS ONE

wc: 1.2 k

you are in love masterlist

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it started in joe’s backyard, somewhere between late summer and early fall—the kind of night where the air is still warm but soft around the edges, like it knows the season is changing. he’d strung up a few fairy lights in the trees, buzzing faintly overhead, casting a golden glow that made everything feel like a dream. the grass was a little damp from the humidity earlier, and cicadas hummed lazily in the distance.

he grilled dinner for them, nervously. he’d done this a thousand times before—hell, he could throw a spiral forty yards under pressure—but holding a spatula with her watching him from the porch? whole different game. tongue pressed between his teeth, he concentrated like his life depended on getting those burgers just right. and when she walked out barefoot in a baby blue sundress, smiling like the sun had personally followed her there?

he fumbled the tongs. obviously.

they sat cross-legged on a blanket in the grass, fireflies flickering like tiny stars around them, half-empty glasses of white wine sparkling softly in the golden haze of the fairy lights. the air smelled like earth and late-summer warmth, and their dinner plates sat forgotten beside them as conversation spilled easy between sips and smiles—effortless, familiar, full of quiet laughter and glances that lingered longer than they should’ve. his knee brushed hers, and she didn’t move. he noticed. she caught her bottom lip between her teeth when she looked away, trying to fight the grin tugging at her mouth. he was still watching her. she saw it—caught him in the act—and smiled like she’d known all along.

he swore he could feel the moment building. like something just under the surface was begging to break free.

and then the rain came.

not a downpour—just a soft, shimmery drizzle, threading through the trees like it had been waiting for the perfect moment. it slipped down from the clouds in slow, silver ribbons, spattering onto the fairy lights overhead and catching in the folds of her sundress.

she tilted her head back to the sky, blinking up at it like it was something familiar. like it knew her.

“should we go inside?” joe asked, even though his whole body was begging him not to move. not yet. not when the world felt like this.

“no way,” she said, smiling softly, like the rain was a secret just for them. “it’s too pretty out here,”.

you’re too pretty, he thought, helpless. hopeless. fully gone.

he didn’t say it—didn’t dare—but his eyes gave him away. the way they lingered on her damp lashes, the gentle slope of her neck, the flush high on her cheeks from wine and warmth and...maybe him. the delicate strap of her dress had slipped just slightly off her shoulder, and he thought he might combust trying not to stare.

his palms were clammy. his chest burning from restraint. he’d kissed girls before. this wasn't anything new for him. but he’d never wanted to kiss someone the way he wanted to kiss her. not like this. not with the kind of aching that lived in the deepest part of his heart.

she glanced at him, catching him in the act. “you look like you’ve got something to say,” she teased, almost as softly as rain falling around them.

joe cleared his throat. then cleared it again.

“i—uh. yeah. kinda,” he managed to say, voice cracking just slightly.

she leaned in a little, playfully raising an eyebrow. “joe?”.

and it all just…broke loose.

“i was gonna say something earlier but you looked really happy and i didn’t wanna ruin it and now you’re just—sitting there, looking like that, and it’s kinda driving me crazy because i’ve been trying to hold it together all night but i’m not doing a great job and—,” he laughed nervously, running a hand through his already-damp curls, “—i’ve literally rehearsed this in my head like five times and somehow i’m still messing it up,”.

she blinked, stunned. eyes wide. lips parted.

“joe.” she said, gently...even a little amused at how flustered he'd gotten so quickly.

he winced, “can i kiss you?” then blurted, too fast—“only if you want me to! you don’t have to—i just—i’ve wanted to for a while, and it’s fine if you don’t feel the same, i just thought maybe you might, but i might’ve read it wrong and—,”.

her turn to short-circuit.

“no. god, no, you didn’t read it wrong. i just—,” she let out a breathy laugh, both hands flailing a little in her lap. “i didn’t wanna make it weird. i kept chickening out. i mean, i’ve been catching myself staring at your mouth like a weirdo for weeks and i was just hoping you’d make the first move so i wouldn’t completely embarrass myself—,”.

and then she stopped talking.

because he was kissing her.

it was hesitant at first. sweet. like he didn’t want to scare her off. his hands came up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing the apples of her cheeks, pink from the rain and nerves and the thousand unsaid things between them.

she froze...just for a second. like her body had to catch up to the moment. and then?

then she melted.

she melted like a sugar cube in tea. fingers twisting in his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer, her lips pressing back into his with a sound that lived somewhere between a sigh and a laugh and something like finally.

but, joe being joe, he pulled back too fast. panicked. soaked and wide-eyed and breathless. nervous that he'd made her uncomfortable, like he took away the opportunity to say no away from her. “shit. i shouldn’t’ve—sorry, i thought—i mean, you were rambling too and i just—,”.

she blinked at him, dazed and dewy and utterly floored.

and then she giggled.

not a laugh. not a chuckle. but this tiny, stunned little sound that bubbled up like it had nowhere else to go. her forehead tipped against his, nose brushing his.

she didn't want to say no.

“joe,” she whispered, eyes shining and starry from the rain, “you were right. you shouldn't have kissed me,”.

then...she kissed him.

her hands found his face—rain-slicked curls, stubble along his jaw—and kissed him like she meant it. like she’d been waiting. like she didn’t want to stop.

that's why he shouldn't have kissed her. because now she would never stop kissing him.

and joe? he gave in. completely.

he kissed her like she was made of moonlight and breathlessness and everything he didn’t know how to say. his fingers tangled in her hair, his mouth slanting over hers again and again, drinking in the way she sighed against him, the way she smiled mid-kiss like she couldn’t help it.

the cicadas hummed their sleepy tune. the fairy lights buzzed above them. the drizzle clung to their skin like a promise.

and in that moment, under a wet sky and her steady hands, joe burrow knew—he was done for.

they eventually pulled apart, rain dripping from their lashes, clothes clinging, hearts pounding. he pressed his forehead to hers. “we’re definitely gonna catch colds,” he mumbled.

“worth it,” she breathed, brushing her nose against his.

and when joe crawled into bed later, curls damp against his pillow, all he could do was stare at the ceiling with a stupid, goofy grin. because he could still feel her lips on his. still hear her laugh. still taste wine and rain and everything sweet he didn’t know he’d been starving for.

and somewhere in his chest—right where he kept all the important things—something bloomed.

something wild. something golden.

something like her.

[kokostarbits]

🌼🔮Stuck with the Soggy Cat🔮🌼

-------------------------------------

Part 6:

🌟🌧️Rainy Moments🌧️🌟

They were on a walk.

A walk that Meta Knight insisted on.

Despite Magolor’s reluctance and lazy demeanor, he was dragged out of his cozy spot on the couch by the promise of fresh air—though the sky didn’t seem to share their enthusiasm.

Dark clouds had gathered slowly, rolling in over the hills. Meta Knight noticed them first, his sharp eyes catching the shift in the atmosphere.

The trees rustled, carried by a wind that made it sound like they were whispering secrets. He glanced at Magolor, who was still poking a stick into a suspicious puddle, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Storm's coming." Meta Knight murmured.

Magolor looked up, squinting at the sky, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oooooh, dramatic. You think we'll make it back before it hits?"

A low rumble of thunder answered that question for them.

"G-Guess not!" Magolor muttered - he was still kind of scared of storms, but he felt safe as long as Meta Knight was near.

(Even though metal was a lightning magnet)

And then, as if on cue, the skies opened.

Rain poured down in thick sheets, drenching them in seconds. Meta Knight's cape clung to his armor, and Magolor’s hood sagged under the downpour. Water ran down the path, rushing past them like it was eager to sweep them away.

Meta Knight raised his arm slightly, preparing to shield Magolor from the worst of the rain, but before he could move, two warm hands grabbed his.

"What—"

"Come on!" Magolor shouted, grinning, his voice bubbling with excitement. "Let’s run for it!"

Before Meta Knight could even react, Magolor was already pulling him forward, laughing as he dashed through the rain, dragging Meta Knight along like an unstoppable force.

Meta Knight stumbled after him, heart racing—not from the sprinting, but from the feel of Magolor’s hand, warm and reassuring in his own. He couldn’t help but marvel at the steadiness in the grip—Magolor wasn’t just pulling him through the rain, he was pulling him closer, grounding him. Meta Knight found it... comforting.

Something he didn’t expect to feel in a storm.

“Y-You’re insane!” Meta Knight laughed, breathless, water splashing against his boots.

Magolor’s laughter rang out, pure joy in every note. “You love it!”

They ran until they reached a grove, the trees thick enough to offer shelter, but there was one problem: a massive puddle—muddy, deep, and deceptively slippery.

Magolor didn’t see it.

He dragged Meta Knight right through it, and then-

SLIP

They both went down in a heap. Meta Knight face-planted into the mud - Magolor following right behind him, hands still firmly clasped together.

Meta Knight slowly sat up, and Magolor burst out laughing under the growing seriousness in Meta Knight’s eyes, and his mask was covered in mud.

Magolor giggled, “Sorry about that, Meta Knight!"

Meta Knight didn't answer.

He was just... staring.

Magolor's smile faltered just a bit under the intensity of that gaze.

"...W-What?"

"You..." Meta Knight said softly, "You make everything feel... different."

Magolor froze. His heart skipped a beat.

Meta Knight looked up again, the rain dripping off his mask like tiny rivers, his gaze intense. “I spent so long being… guarded. Even after everything we went through, I never... I never thought I’d be capable of letting someone in. Letting you in, again.”

Magolor’s fingers twitched in his hand.

Meta Knight swallowed, his next words coming out slower, as if he were trying to piece something fragile together. “You still talk too much... and you’re reckless, and you flip pancakes like they're part of a magic ritual-"

"That's because they are-"

"-but you're kind..." he said, cutting in gently. "You're loud and messy and you light up every room you enter-"

Meta Knight’s voice broke for a moment, as if the weight of his words caught him off guard. “And I...don’t think I want to imagine my world without you anymore-!"

"-I love you!” Magolor interrupted...

The words tumbled out of his mouth, clumsy and bold.

Meta Knight froze. Time seemed to hang between them, the world suspended in that single moment. Magolor blinked, his face flushing a deep crimson as realization hit him.

“I mean—haha wait no—um—I meant like, y’know, friend love! Not—uh—wait, no—unless you—uh—because if you do—I mean I do—WAIT—”

“Magolor.”

The quiet sound of his name broke through the chaos, stopping Magolor’s nervous rambling instantly.

Meta Knight took his mask off slowly, and was looking at him with something far more vulnerable than Magolor had ever expected.

Something real.

Honest.

Magolor shut his mouth, his breath shaky.

Meta Knight reached up, his gloved hand trembling slightly, and he brushed his fingers gently against Magolor’s cheek. The touch was tender, reverent, as though it had been building up to this moment for years.

“Say it again… please.”

Magolor’s heart hammered.

“I…” He breathed. “I love you.”

Meta Knight’s eyes softened, his whole expression melting into something more than just words could convey. Then, after a pause that felt like a thousand heartbeats, Meta Knight’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I love you too.”

Magolor froze again. His entire body felt like it had turned to stone, and then his ears turned pink.

Then his cheeks.

Then his whole face.

Then he made a tiny noise... Kind of like a kettle trying not to whistle.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Magolor’s heart surged forward. With a soft, nervous exhale, he closed the distance between them in one fluid motion and kissed Meta Knight.

This time, there was nothing accidental about it.

It wasn't a flustered stumble or a spice-rack collision.

This kiss was slow, deliberate, the kind that spoke of all the words they’d never said before.

The rain pattered softly above them, as if the world was giving them space to just... be.

Magolor’s lips were soft, warm against his. Meta Knight's hands trembled as they gently cradled Magolor’s sides, as though afraid the moment would shatter if he held too tightly. He let his fingers trace over Magolor’s skin, grounding himself in the reality of the moment.

Magolor deepened the kiss very slightly, as his hands started curling into Meta Knight’s armor as if he wanted to pull them even closer.

The world faded away—the storm, the mud, the cold—it was all just background noise to the quiet intensity between them.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their faces flushed with emotion and warmth, eyes glazed with something deeper.

Magolor chuckled softly, breathless. “So… does this mean I can give you nicknames now... like... Mety?"

“No.” Meta Knight replied with a slight smile, his voice low, almost teasing.

Magolor grinned wide. “Too late, Mety.”

Meta Knight chuckled, the sound rich and genuine. “Fine... but only if you’re my Maggie.”

Magolor practically lunged into his arms.

“I KNEW IT!! You are soft under all that broody cape drama!”

Meta Knight hid his smile in Magolor’s chest, letting himself laugh for a moment. Then he lifted his head, gently resting his forehead against Magolor’s.

Their bodies still close, and their heartbeats syncing together. The rain fell softly around them, the storm now nothing more than a distant memory.

The rain didn't stop until evening.

By the time they made it home-damp, laughing, a little breathless-the air had gone quiet again, warm and still. Magolor shook the water out of his hood like a soggy puppy, leaving little wet spots on the floor. Meta Knight rolled his eyes but didn't say a word.

Instead, he walked past him and took a clean towel from the hallway cabinet, and gently tossed it over Magolor's head.

"You'll catch a cold."

"Aww, you do care~?"

Meta Knight chuckled a bit as he just reached out and started rubbing Magolor's fur dry through the towel with careful, slow circles.

Magolor melted like butter on a waffle.

"I love you..." he said from under the towel like it was just a casual fact.

Meta Knight stared at him, eyes soft. Like he still couldn't believe this was real.

"...You have no idea what that means to me..."

Magolor stepped closer and pressed his forehead against Meta Knight's chest. "I think I do."

That night, the house was quiet.

The only sound was the occasional rustle of wind outside and the soft clink of tea mugs as they were set down, side by side, on the nightstand.

Meta Knight was sitting in bed with a book. Magolor had claimed the space beside him without asking-just wriggled in under the covers like he'd been doing this for years.

They hadn't said much since the kiss.

They didn't need to.

It was there in the soft glances. In the way Meta Knight turned the pages slower than usual - more aware of the warm body leaning sleepily against him. In the way Magolor kept sneaking peeks at him when he thought Meta Knight wasn't looking.

Eventually, Magolor yawned. Loudly. Dramatically. He flopped over onto Meta Knight's side like a weighted blanket with opinions.

"M'tired.."

"Then go to sleep."

"I can't..." he whined, "...my pillow's too cold."

"You have a blanket."

"It's not the same."

Meta Knight sighed a little bit.

Then, with a quiet rustle of fabric, he closed the book and set it aside. He didn't say anything as he shifted to lie back fully. Didn't say anything when Magolor immediately curled up against his side, head resting on his chest, arms loosely wrapped around him, but his wings moved. Slowly. Instinctively. One curled around Magolor's back.

"...Comfy?" he murmured.

Magolor nodded, already half-asleep. "Yes..."

Meta Knight looked down at him. He brushed his fingers lightly across Magolor's fur, gaze unreadable.

"I used to think I was better off alone..." he said quietly. "That opening up would just lead to pain. That it was safer to keep my world small."

He paused.

"But you're the one thing... I never saw coming."

Magolor made a sleepy little sound in response and nuzzled in closer, sighing into his chest. "You're so sappy when you're horizontal..."

Meta Knight snorted, the tiniest bit of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Then, almost shyly, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Magolor's head.

Magolor smiled-eyes still closed, and as the wind danced softly outside and the last of the storm drifted away, they fell asleep like that-tangled together, warm and safe, hearts finally at peace.💕🌷💖

-------------------------------------

🌷💖✨PART 6✨💖🌷

Tomorrow I'll be posting the last chapter 🥺 However - I definitely will be doing other stories every now and then - It's actually very fun! 🥹💕🌷💖

I get to express my love about Metalor in words, and nothing makes me more happier then to share it with you guys!!!🪐✨

I've got so many ideas with these too! (Maybe too many😅) And that includes drawing and writing!

Anyways - I hope you enjoyed part 6 of "Stuck with the Soggy Cat"! 🥹💕🌷✨💖

[whataduck]

There's a lot of pipes and tubes in moon's design, a wholeass fusebox(?) with tubes spilling out of it in her memory conflux. In comparison Pebbles' seems a lot more clean. You can see a circuit element that seems very similar to Moon's fusebox but it's been placed in the background; the overall design of his memory conflux is more sleek with less things protruding out into the space. Moon's piped tunnels don't seem necessary in Pebbles, instead replaced with background circuitry.

By the time Pebbles was built it seems the benefactors streamlined the process of building an iterator, or at least learned how to more effectively compress the inner circuitry of an iterator so it didn't take up much space. (They did make one iterator before Pebbles so they probably had ideas to improve the design) Although I think it might also have something to do with how it seems they transitioned from using steam/water for Moon to electricity for Pebbles.

I think @/mebis-art-dump mentioned that two different karma gates exist: Water based and electricity based ones, with the water gates existing in older regions. From what I could see Struts uses water gates while the Leg uses electric ones (tbh I'm not sure whether the devs intended for us to read into a gate that much but. yeah). Moon being more dependent on water would also explain why there's a lot of vents and fans in her structure, (also with her being themed around the heart) while Pebbles being electricity based might take up less space. It's really cool that you can see how the benefactors' technology developed by comparing Moon and Pebbles.

But like, if i'm wrong about anything feel free to punt me into the ground. I wanna hear what y'all think

I love how Moon's superstructure has so much in common with Pebbles'..there's so many rooms that are similar in placement and/or layout but they're also very different

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 3

Area Zero from Pokémon Scarlet/Violet

vs.

The Cycle from Rain World: Downpour

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Area Zero:

The magical sparkles vibes of the beginning are so pretty, and then the voices come in, and I get goosebumps. It's SUCH a good song, and it creates such an amazing atmosphere.

I feel like puking crying and shitting so much when I listen to this song that I genuinely unironically cannot listen to it for more than 10 seconds. It hits so hard when you first play through ScarVi. Such a good song for a mostly mid game.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Alright hear me out.. Jonggun x a big deal member reader.. 🫣 like, both of us hating each other to guts, but somehow an odd feeling causes us to desire to spend time with each other etc while not even knowing the reason, and once gun feels close enough to us to inform us about his Yakuza clan and his whole shiro oni side, it turns out we were actually gun's childhood friend back then 🤭

Anon. You'll be the death of me. Apologies for the delayed response as usual! I started this today with a small idea. Came back to it tonight and 2k words later, it's now nearly 2am. I... I think I really like this. Let's sleep on it anyway. Hope it hits the spot and thanks for requesting!

Gun Park x Big Deal!Reader: Yamazaki Yuzuru

G/N. Enemies to lovers. (...Childhood friends turned enemies to lovers).

Cynics would say you sold your body in a different way, although you hate to think about it like that. You suppose that it may seem so for someone on the outside looking in.

Big Deal is famous for its passion, its romance. You never thought it applied to you. Not like it did to others.

.

.

The first time you meet on Big Deal street, Gun studies you. Gaze hidden under his sunglasses, curiosity piqued as he wonders who you are.

A sea of gangsters but your face sticks out like a sore thumb. Familiar. Like a distant memory just out of reach, like trying to recall a dream.

Notices your scar-littered knuckles faded silver with time. Hardly unusual for gang members yet Gun still peers down at his own hands.

They're similar. Almost matching. A pair.

Ever watchful eyes burn into the side of your head.

When you turn in his direction, you know for certain he is only looking at you.

Age old scars start to itch. Absentmindedly, you scratch at your hands.

.

.

Gun asks for your name during your second meeting.

"Who are you?"

Jake Kim frowns, searches your face for a reason why he would be asking you. Why he would be taking an interest.

You give your boss an imperceptible shrug.

"None of your business," is all you offer. Clipped. Brusque. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for Big Deal by outright ignoring him.

What you mean to spit is fuck you.

What you mean to scream is I want to kill you with my bare hands.

You don't look at him today.

"Oh, this one is feisty," Goo Kim steps forward, duffle bag of cash in hand and eyes roving over you with approval.

Trouble still finds you.

Jaw clenching, hands scrunching into fists; Jake ready to defend his crew-

Gun beats him to the punch.

"Let's go. The money is all there."

His blonde associate throws him an odd look. Nevertheless, they still leave. You're not sure if you've ever seen anything better than their retreating backs.

Big Deal survives for another day.

.

.

Your luck runs out on your third meeting.

Gun finds you when you're miles from Big Deal and alone. When the rain drenches the earth and the air suffocates. When instead of water bringing life, it brings an omen.

This time you have no choice but to look at him, glaring into his pitch-black eyes. Fear eclipsed by loathing as he holds his umbrella over you, downpour providing a shroud and shielding the two of you from the world.

A strange game of silence starts, neither of you wanting to speak first.

Minutes tick by. The feeling of hatred is tiring to keep up. Holding onto the anger at the surface drains you. Infinitesimally your gaze starts to soften until Gun's curiosity is mirrored in yours.

To your surprise, he cracks first.

He tells you he recognises the vitriol in your voice from last time, no matter how much you thought you had successfully veiled it.

(A tiny smirk, almost fond, graces his features as he is reminded of your animosity.)

Offers you a chance, an escape line, a tantalising small glimmer of hope for Big Deal to leave the four crews.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, he proposes, "You can have your freedom if you can kill me."

Oh?

The odds are not in your favour. You agree anyway.

.

.

You manage to land a hit on his left arm, even as he turns and deflects most of the damage with a roll of his shoulder.

Had it been successful, it would have left it limp and hanging. Unfortunately, Gun only seem inconvenienced at best.

Your next attack manages to break the skin on his cheek. You miss your mark, wanting to gouge out his eyes instead.

Still, seeing the trickle of blood pleases you.

Gun Park takes no prisoners. Aims to incapacitate at the best of times, if not to maim or kill.

The thrill and adrenaline surges once he notices the cut. Feels the blood rushing to the surface and it already swelling.

He lunges after you, launching an open hand strike straight for your chest.

Throwing up both arms just in time, you manage to negate most of the intensity of his hit. Even still, you are flung to the other side of the street and hard into the ground.

Death would have been on the cards if not for your quick thinking.

When Gun sees the crimson falling from your lips, you spluttering and winded, choking on your own blood and body barely able to move-

All he can think about is how intriguing it is that you are still breathing. How peculiar that you managed to defend yourself, like you had foreseen his move. How mesmerising that particular shade of red.

Gun doesn't kill you today.

He tells you you have failed and leaves you to wallow in your own humiliation. You watch his figure growing smaller into the distance and find no joy in this retreat.

Blood and sweat mingles with the rain, cold seeps into your bones. When you think all hope is lost-

You catch a glimpse of maroon beneath your nails. Even as your body lies broken and beaten, you think of how you have managed to spill droplets of Gun Park's own blood.

It's a pleasant thought.

.

.

The fourth time he asks again for your name.

You wonder how he manages to find you once more during heavy showers.

As if he is only able to venture out during storms, like a worm awakened with the pitter patter of raindrops and slithering out of wet soil.

Fitting.

Amused both at this and the audacity of his question, you chuckle at his tenacity. The action causes you to wince. Body still recovering, a result of your fight from last time.

Gun takes a step forward and you flinch away immediately. Worsening your injury, grimacing and groaning as black spots appear in your vision.

"Stop," he orders and you are tempted to do it again just to defy him. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. I'll ask you for the final time, what is your name?"

In no fit state to fight, loss inevitable even if you were, you finally give it up.

You tell him through gritted teeth and a seed is planted in his mind.

"And you know mine."

"Gun Park."

He loves the fury in your voice. He wants to hear you say it again.

.

.

Gun slams you into a wall during the fifth time. Pins your arms above your head as you thrash against his hold.

Desperately trying to regain your footing, regain your strength as he has once again bested you.

He leans into your ear, voice taunting and infuriating. "Y/N." Relishes the way your name sounds, "You've failed again."

You whip your head around, ready to do something, anything. Bile in your throat and venom on the tip of your tongue-

His face is centimetres away from yours, breath hot and your skin prickles.

Own breath hitching as he drops his eyes to your lips. Desire and hunger plain on his face.

He doesn't lean forward and you wish he did.

He lets you go and you wish he didn't.

You hate yourself for it.

.

.

Sleep becomes difficult. You lie awake at night and think about him. Replay the scene in your head.

Your self hatred builds.

.

.

Thoughts of what-ifs tiptoe through your mind during the day. Conjures up scenarios of what if Gun Park actually did brush his lips against yours.

You hate yourself more than you hate him.

.

.

Like a self fulfilling prophecy, it happens during the sixth meeting.

All fight dissipates from you as your traitorous mind wanders and strays.

Gun Park catches your fist. He doesn't shove you away. Sees your pupils blown huge with lust and slams your body into his instead.

Your lips crash together, all teeth and snarls. It is both everything and nothing like you had imagined.

The umbrella lies forgotten on the ground as he rams you up against a wall in a forgotten alleyway.

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes into you.

.

.

Meetings end in a stalemate.

.

.

Meetings end in more sordid alleyways. A quick and dirty sprint to the finish line.

.

.

In backseats, cramped and rushed and hot. Leather sticking to sweat slick skin, windows fogging up with steam.

.

.

In hotel rooms and tangled sheets.

.

.

In walks of shame at 3am.

.

.

In showers, exploring each other's bodies.

.

.

In baths with your back against his chest.

.

.

In his bed and waking up together in the morning.

.

.

You don't act differently when Gun Park and Goo Kim come to collect their dues.

But the bruises left by his fingers under your Big Deal uniform pulses and throbs.

You still hate yourself but you hate Gun less.

Seeing him reminds you of the way he moans your name. The additional scars you've scratched into his back. The way his hips rock against yours.

(When it's just you two, you can't bring yourself to hate him at all.)

You stay still and silent as Goo counts the bills.

Under his sunglasses, Gun always observes you.

.

.

"Where did you get these scars?"

Gun traces over your knuckles. Touch gentle and tentative. A far cry from your first contact.

Truthfully you can hardly even remember. It was another life. In the land of the rising sun, when you saw the world through childhood innocence.

You piece together what you can.

"I used to spar when I was younger. With another boy that was on my street..."

Eyes affecting a far off look, reliving what you can of your memory.

Snapshots of a small stature, below average for his age but lightning fast reflexes and a terrifying strength.

You were never a match for him. Not really. But he still insisted on seeing you everyday.

Training together. Developing a language of your own through punches and kicks.

Above all, you fought. But that small quiet boy, who talked infrequently, whose bite was just as bad as his bark gave you the first taste of something real.

"You lost more than you won." Gun's voice cuts through. You thought they were teasing words but- "Cried when he beat you and he would bribe you to shut up. Spent three summers together getting stronger until he had to leave."

Gun holds his own scarred hand up.

You remember the scar the boy got when you kicked him into the ground, how you bandaged it afterwards. Unravelling as soon as you wrapped it, handiwork sloppy and inexperienced.

The scars when you both would practice your punches, strengthening tendons wherever you could. On whatever surfaces available.

And one scar in particular: when you bit down hard on his hand after a particularly gruelling fight and refused to give him the victory.

How have you missed this? How has the string of fate managed to stretch across land and oceans and borders and years?

The fog lifts and the name slams into your mind.

"Yuzuru."

Gun kisses you, hand cupping the back of your head and other curling around your waist. Whispers your own name against your lips. The one you were born with. The one he used to call you.

A name you haven't heard in years, but he never forgot.

"Say my name again." His voice is rough, choked.

"Yamazaki Yuzuru."

He kisses you more fiercely than ever before.

The first meeting wasn’t on Big Deal street. It wasn't even in South Korea.

.

.

You didn't sell your body.

The Big Deal passion and romance flares within you. It just always belonged to someone else.

[write-here-n-now]

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 1367 | G. Angst| Pt. 4/? |

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

The door shuts with a bang as you lean against it, catching your breath. 

With your eyes closed, you remember his face. 

Tired. Exhausted. Relieved. Concerned. Shocked. Emotion painted on in a blend of colours, hanging to each crease of his brow and lips.

He was a mess, more so than you’ve ever seen him

Why were you feeling concerned for his well-being? If anything, you should worry about yourself. Four days and the place you had to see him was on campus after things had been running relatively smoothly all day. Turning your head to the side, your sights fell on the bag you had made this morning—all your tangible memories stuffed in that 23 by 64-inch bag. 

You turn your body and move closer to it. Untying the double knot of the black bag, you pull out a figure of Wall-E made out of Lego, Jeonghan having the other half, Eve.  

You had started building Legos together as a joke to escape the stress of finals and the impending assignment deadlines two semesters ago which became a designated stress reliever, finals or not, you would scour the internet and save up for sets that you both liked.

“You’re doing it wrong, that’s not how the piece fits” “It’s literally what the instruction shows” “No no! That’s not the right piece”

The first Lego set you brought home had no one set design, just a wide range of pieces and instructions to make whatever you wanted but it seemed that you both found it funny to insult the creation the other wanted to make causing you to bicker over every attempt to build something together.

It was worse when you bought a more complicated set from your favourite series The Lord of the Rings—a Rivendell set. Figuring out the intricate details and piecing together the entire design put the two of you on each other’s nerves. It got so bad that you had to cool off in separate rooms and when you came back, Jeonghan sat back just watching you complete the set to avoid more fighting.  

You learned you two couldn’t build together unless you were working on completely different sets which prompted you two to buy multiple Lego sets so you could parallel play like children on the living room floor.

Long hours of just making your designated Lego set, music on low volume in the background, snacks at your side and you would find yourself looking over to see him completely focused on his piece without another care in the world. You caught yourself often, in those times, letting your gaze linger to his figure for just a while longer, turning away before he had the chance to meet your eyes.

Placing the Lego Wall-E on the floor you reach in to find a hoodie, navy blue with “MARK THE MOMENT” printed on the front.

On a seemingly clear spring day, the two of you headed out near his apartment to build a stash of snacks to sustain the two of you for a movie marathon that weekend, a celebration for finishing midterms.

Walking into the shop with blue skies, you two emerged with a heavy downpour. Had you thought of potential weather uncertainty, you would’ve worn a thicker or even full-sleeved t-shirt. Jeonghan had been more prepared, wearing that same navy hoodie you clutched in your hands, as he held the bags of your store haul.

Ready to make a run for it, he turns to you. Doubt and concern sported on your face.

Placing the bags in his hands on the ground, he begins to shed himself of his hoodie. Passing it over to you once it's off. Despite himself in just a t-shirt he urges you to put on his hoodies.

“Don’t argue, I’ll be fine” “You’ll get wet though” “We both will, but you have more to lose with the thin shirt you have on,”

Wanting to get home faster, and the rain clearly not willing to let up any time soon, you throw on the hoodie.

“We run on 3” he beams, picking the bags back up but this time both in one hand.”1….2……3!”

You don’t expect him to tuck his hand into yours and pull you forward, beginning your race against the overcast to his apartment.

It's then, the two of you soaked, laughing and running against the rain, you feel your heart flutter. It had been doing that for a little while these days, but only when you found your gaze settled on your best friend. His smile, contagious and his laugh ringing in your ear like a symphony, everyone else? Background noise. Nobody, nothing, mattered more than his hand in yours, pulling you in a frenzy through the streets desperate to seek shelter, despite water reaching your skin a sharp contrast to the heat and fuzzy feeling creeping across your entire body.

Continuing your journey through memory lane, you pull a stack of polaroids and one of your old disposable cameras—one which was yet to be developed.

Polaroids, some blurry, others confusing without context but one in particular, a haphazardly taken selfie from last summer. Staring straight into the camera, Jeonghan’s arm reaches around your head, as his hand grabs the underside of your face, pushing together your cheeks, giggling at your dismay. He snapped a picture before you could get away from his grasp. Your eyes shut, lips both frowning and pouting and his hand smushing your cheeks together like you were a child.

You stare at the picture a bit longer, wishing to go back to summer, a time in which your worries had all but disappeared, it was just you and him.

You dig around the bag until you find what you’re looking for. The beanie. Brown and now a bit worn due to use.

Whenever the colder season began, it would be the perfect weather for hats and beanies in the morning but by lunchtime, Jeongan’s beanies would either be in your bag or lazily stuffed in one of his pockets, much too hot to put on his head. It would be one of the things he would leave around your home and so you would often collect them and deliver them back before he had the chance to complain about how his hats seemed to be disappearing.

This particular beanie was a gift, from him to you, though it ended up as a shared article of clothing. Pulling it off each other’s head to sport it on your own was a childish game you enjoyed partaking in. Despite a million times you fought to wear the beanie, your fondest memory was tied to a bittersweet day. An exam that particularly seemed to disrupt your academic career ended in a less-than-ideal conclusion. You held it in all day, but the minute you saw him, all bets were off, one question was all it took for you to start bawling in the middle of the library.

Unable to understand your sudden outburst and concern for you, he pulls off the brown beanie, sticking it over your head and pulling down the sides over your eyes, concealing your sorrow from the world. The suddenness of his actions startled you, your crying abruptly cut short during his ministrations to straighten the beanie on your head. Now silent, you sat across from him contemplating the situation.

“Wow…I didn’t think that would work…” “…why…did you do..that?” you ask, sniffing, still blinded by the fabric constricting your view.

He shrugs to an imaginary audience, forgetting that you can’t see him.

“Hold on stay like that, I’m gonna take a picture," he explains before giving you a proper explanation of his thought process.

Face red, tears drying on your cheeks, beanie pulled too far down, your lips a thin line, the profile picture he still kept as your contact.

You laugh at the ridiculous memory, which despite your best tries, turns into tears, once again crying over how messed up everything has become.

You can’t rid yourself of these items, just like you can’t throw away your feelings. Each and every memory tattooed to the depths of your mind, how would you remove those?

[prominent96]

The bigger the better1!1!

Another batch

[nebulousbrainsoup]

dancing in the rain with ateez - hyung line

SUMMARY: what it's like to dance in the rain with ateez's hyung line, and how it happens. PAIRING(S): ateez hyung line x gn!reader GENRE: fluff! AU/TROPE INFO: implied idol!au, dancing in the rain, established relationship WORD COUNT: 1.7k WARNINGS: mild language RATING: g A/N: i've had these thoughts rolling around in my head for an absurd amount of time. what better time to get them out than the teezer 5 year anniversary? maknae line coming soon. and a huge shout out to my twinnie @pocketjoong for the beta, mwah. NET PINGS: @wonderlandnet

hongjoong (wc: 422)

it’s a near torrential downpour when the two of you finally emerge from his studio. you were deaf to it in the soundproofed walls of hongjoong’s second home, but in the halls of the kq building, the pounding rain echoes clear as day. his eyes widen and you sigh. 

“we could stay and see if it passes?” your boyfriend suggests, and you roll your eyes.

“joongie, it’s three in the morning. we need to get some sleep tonight. and besides, i told you to bring an umbrella. this is just karma.”

resolutely, you start for the door, and you hear hongjoong groan behind you. his footsteps pick up again a moment later.

“i just don’t want you to get soaked, sweetheart, i—”

you reach the door and turn, quirking an eyebrow and smirking at him. “are you sure you're not more worried about your hair?” you tease, reaching up to ruffle the freshly dyed shock of blue.

he rolled his eyes  and batted your hand away, pink tinting his ears. "that, too."

grinning, you take his hand. before he can react, you yank him through the doors and onto the sidewalk. your laughter and the roar of the sheets of rain are not enough to drown out his squawk of protest as you're both doused. 

when you turn to face him, there's an exasperated grin on his face. he tugs you back to him, your own surprised shout leaving you as you collide with his firm chest. 

his arms lace around your waist as your hands settle on his shoulders, and he slowly starts to sway to whatever tune is playing in his head. a soft smile overtakes your features and you reach a hand up, carding your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

you both sigh as your lips meet and you melt into each other, the rain muffling the sounds of the city and wrapping you up in your own little world.

you're still swaying when you part, eyes closed as you press into each other, fighting off the chill sinking into your bones with each other's body heat. 

hongjoong pulls back when a shiver lights down your spine, and you reluctantly let your hand drop back to his shoulder. 

a shock of color catches your eye before you can meet his adoring gaze, and you bark a laugh at the pale blue tinting your fingertips and under your nails.

“maybe you were right about your hair,” you hummed, waving your stained hand between you.

“karma.”

seonghwa (wc: 357)

you’re on a quiet stroll through your favorite park, one hand wrapped around your favorite drink and the other laced with seonghwa’s. clouds have hung in the air all morning, the smell of petrichor lingering in the air. but they’ve been there for longer than just today, so neither of you are particularly worried about it.

until, that is, you feel seonghwa startle next to you. he looks up with a furrowed brow, patting the top of his silky hair. 

you tilt your head at him, curious and questioning. “what’s the matter?”

he frowns, reaching an open palm out and shaking his head. “nothing, i guess. i thought i felt rain.”

you frown, reaching out a hand and looking up. nothing. still, you turn your attention back to your boyfriend. “we can head back home, if you’d prefer.”

to your surprise and delight, he huffed a sigh and pouted, shaking his head and tugging you back along the path you had been following before. “no. i’m enjoying this too much.”

it only takes a few minutes before you’re both regretting that suggestion, diving for cover underneath the branches of the trees around you as the rain starts to patter to the ground.

you’re both laughing as you run a hand through your hair. “maybe we should have gone,” you sigh, blinking up at him.

seonghwa hums thoughtfully, a soft smile playing at his lips. “or maybe it’s a good thing we stayed.” 

he stepped toward you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you into his chest and you can feel the warmth radiating from him as you offer him a confused smile, resting your open hand and your near-empty drink on his shoulder.

slowly, he steps back out into the rain, giving you ample time to protest before you’re getting doused too. for a moment, you flinch, but as he starts to sway, you relax in his arms again. 

sighing, you match his rhythm and press your lips against his own. “maybe it is a good thing we stayed.” 

your hopeless romantic of a boyfriend beams, pulling you closer and kissing you once again.

yunho (wc: 409)

you’ve found yourself like this countless times, leaning back against yunho’s warm chest as you both watch the rain fall in curtains against the window. for as long as you’ve been together, rainy days have been for curling up together and keeping dry, but today a certain romanticism tugs at your heartstrings.

“what are you thinking?” he murmurs against your temple, ever-aware of the smallest shifts in your mood.

“just being wistful and dreamy again,” you sigh, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “nothing bad, i promise.”

“okay,” he sighs, a curious lilt in his voice. “then what is it?”

“thinking about dancing in the rain, like we’re in a music video or something.” 

you saw him brighten in the reflection, his sunshiney grin warming your heart. “let’s go, then. let’s do it.” 

you turn in his arms, blinking back at him in confusion. “are you… are you serious? we don’t have to; it’s just one of those dumb little romantic tropes—”

he nods eagerly, releasing his hold around you to take your hand instead, tugging you toward your front door. you follow him in a bit of a daze, a disbelieving smile plastered on your face.

he barely stops to grab your keys and doesn’t give you time to put your shoes on before he’s dragging you out front and into the grass. you squeak at the chill, startled, but follow him as he tugs on your hand, spinning you back into his arms.

the look in his eyes is one you can only describe as “pure adoration” as your open hand lands firm on his shoulder, and he hums softly as he sways with you.

“is it everything you thought it would be?” he teases, eyes twinkling down at you.

“all that and more, yuyu,” you giggle, leaning up to catch his lips in a chaste kiss.

a flash of mischief glints behind his eye, and before you can process the movement, he’s dipping you back toward the ground and locking your lips, kissing you deeper than he had all night.

he swallows the gasp that leaves you and you melt into him, finding yourself completely breathless as he pulls you back up to your feet.

“so much more,” you sigh, giggling against his lips as you trade smaller, sweeter kisses, completely lost in each other as you sway to nothing but the sound of your own breaths and the water falling around you.

yeosang (wc: 527)

“how are you entirely out of batteries?” you groan, flopping back against your boyfriend’s bed. “you’re a gamer, aren’t you supposed to be well-stoked in these things?”

somewhere on the other side of the bedroom, you hear him grunt, huffing an annoyed sigh as you realize the sound was likely accompanied by a noncommittal shrug. “most of my stuff is rechargeable or hardwired. and if i need a flashlight, i usually use my phone.”

“well, maybe you shouldn’t have let it die, then!”

“like you’re any better. i saw you playing pocket camp until yours died, too.”

he’s right and you know it, so you don’t press the issue any further. you can already feel boredom sinking under your skin, though, and you breathe another sigh. outside, lightning flashes and thunder rolls, briefly silhouetting your boyfriend against the window.

“it looks like the convenience store on the corner has power. we could go grab snacks and batteries, then come back and play board games? or maybe the power will be back on by then.”

you join him, huffing an annoyed sigh as he’s proven right. “so the shady corner store has a backup generator and your top-of-the-line dorm doesn’t?”

“there are more fridges in there.” you shudder at the thought of his own fridge. “c’mon, let’s beat the rush, just in case.”

it isn’t until the front door of the building clicks shut behind you, the familiar electronic buzz of the door’s lock glaringly missing that you realize your mistake, “yeo, we can’t card in.” 

he stops in his tracks, blinking with his head half-turned to face you. “shit, you’re right.”

heart dropping, you reach for the door handle, groaning when it doesn’t budge. you try again, tugging harder and harder, panic rising in your throat—

until a warm hand envelopes your own, gently prying your fingers from the metal before pressing a kiss to the tip of each one. you look up at your boyfriend, an apologetic smile on his face, and let yourself slump against him. he hums quietly, the low rumble entwining in his chest with the beating of his heart, and you feel the tension slowly drain from your body as he rocks you gently from side to side. 

“we can still go get snacks, if you want,” he murmurs after a time. “then we can just… hang out until the power’s back on.” 

“not like we have much choice,” you grumble, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

he hums once in affirmation before picking his tune up again, shifting in a small circle as he sways with you. you feel his sigh more than you hear it, his lungs expanding for a moment before he lets his eyes slide closed.

“besides, isn’t dancing in the rain with the love of your life supposed to be romantic?”

you’re silent for too long, and when he opens his eyes, he’s relieved to find you grinning up at him, all wide-eyed innocence. “am i the love of your life, sangie?” 

his eyes go wide, cheeks and ears blossoming pink as he realizes what he said. well, there was no going back now.

“yes. you are.” 

TAGLISTS: (open, send an ask to join) permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae @ad0rechuu @seonghwaddict @thatonenoonaateez: @pyeonghongrie-main

© October 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[elryuse]

*cough cough* yandere Lily showing you the wedding band meaning you're her husband now. can I request a yandere ex-gf Lily?

Dangerous Melody!

YANDERE LILY X MALE READER

The faint smell of bleach stung Lily's nostrils, a counterpoint to the metallic tang that clung to the worn chopping board. She stared down at the discarded blonde hair, the vibrant color now a dull, lifeless mess, mirroring the hollowness that gnawed at her. Minnie, another pretty face removed from the equation.

Lily used to mock Y/n's obsession with K-Pop. Now, she was the one consumed by it, living through his memories, fueled by a twisted jealousy that had curdled into a horrifying obsession. Y/n, her Y/n, the nerdy guy who used to stammer compliments about her singing voice, was now a rising star. He was surrounded by a glittering constellation of K-Pop idols - (G)-Idle, Kep1er, ITZY - each a potential threat.

The initial thrill of revenge, of watching them fall one by one - a "clumsy" fall for Miyeon, a "sudden illness" for Chaeryeong - had morphed into a chilling emptiness. The closer they got to Y/n, the further he seemed to drift, withdrawing from the public eye, a ghost haunted by fame.

One rainy night, Lily found herself huddled in a doorway opposite Y/n's old apartment. She'd become a stalker, her once carefully curated social media presence abandoned, her life consumed by the flickering glow of his window.

A lone figure emerged, his silhouette obscured by the downpour. He moved with the slumped shoulders of a defeated man, the rain blurring the lines of his tear-streaked face. Y/n. Her Y/n, a broken shell of the boy she used to know.

Anger, raw and hot, pulsed through her veins. All this suffering, all this scheming, for a man who didn't even fight for her? He wasn't worth the effort, the thrill of the chase. But a cold, unsettling voice whispered in the back of her mind – he was hers. He'd always been hers.

The next morning, Lily stood before his building, a manic glint in her normally cool blue eyes. The security guard, a young man who'd always fawned over her fleeting visits, stammered in surprise.

"Miss Lily? But Mr. Y/n doesn't want guests."

Lily's lips curved into a chilling smile. "He doesn't have a choice anymore, does he?"

The fear in the guard's eyes was a balm to her frayed nerves. Her fingers closed around the handle of a heavy duffel bag, its contents a terrifying promise.

Y/n didn't notice the rustle of movement outside his window until a bloodcurdling scream pierced the night. He threw it open, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Lily, her face streaked with a mixture of rain and something much redder.

"Lily?" He whispered, his voice thick with terror. "What… what have you done?"

Her smile was predatory, devoid of any warmth. "Oh, Y/n," she purred, her voice laced with a chilling sweetness. "Just making sure there are no more distractions. Now, come here."

Before he could react, Lily lunged, dragging a rusty chain with shackles from her bag. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone so petite, the cold metal biting into his skin as she secured them.

"We'll be together again," she crooned, her voice a chilling melody. "Forever this time."

He struggled against the restraints, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and loathing. "Lily, no! You're insane!"

"Insane? Perhaps," she conceded, her eyes glinting with a terrifying amusement. "But only for you, my love."

Ignoring his pleas, she hoisted him onto her shoulder, his screams swallowed by the sounds of the rain. The once vibrant city lights blurred past in a dizzying kaleidoscope, a cruel reminder of the life he was being ripped away from.

Their destination – a secluded cabin nestled deep in the woods, a place she'd inherited from a distant relative. There, in the heart of isolation, a twisted love story bloomed. A love bound by fear and obsession, where Y/n became Lily's captive, a broken idol trapped in a gilded cage of her own making.

The K-Pop world mourned their missing star, whispers of foul play turning into cold acceptance. But for Y/n, trapped in the suffocating darkness of their love-turned-prison, there was no more music, no more fans. Only the horrifying reality of his ex-lover, now a monster, and the chilling words that echoed through the lonely cabin: "Forever, Y/n. Forever with me."

[iibonniee]

Kiss & Tell

Pairing: Lee Minhyuk x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 0.6k

Masterlist

If there was one thing on Y/N’s bucket list she wanted to do before grim reaper opened his arms and took her into his embrace, it was to simply dance in the rain (and kiss the person she loves the most). But there were requirements, of course. The rain had to be coming down full force, like the moment you step outside you’re soaked full force.

Drizzles wouldn’t cut it. Mist? Absolutely not. She wanted the rain that blurred streetlights and flooded the gutters, the kind that made your footsteps splash and your hair cling to your forehead like you were in a slow-motion music video.

So she waited.

Every forecast, every weather app, every twitch of a grey cloud was watched like it was a scheduled miracle. Spring rolled in with teasing breezes and half-hearted showers, and she cursed the universe softly each time a storm fizzled into a drizzle. But today? Today, the sky cracked.

She was standing at the window, arms crossed, when the heavens finally opened. Sheets of water poured from the sky like a dam had snapped loose in the clouds. Thunder rolled low and deep in the distance, and the world outside turned silver. She blinked. Then she ran.

“Minhyuk!” she called, barefoot, already halfway to the front door.

He barely had time to lift his head from the book in his lap before she was tugging his arm like an excited child on Christmas morning. “It’s time.”

“For…?”

She whipped the door open dramatically and turned toward him with all the urgency in the world. “The rain. It’s perfect. Come outside with me. Right now. No umbrella. No jacket. Just us.”

He blinked, confused for a beat. Then his eyes softened as he set the book aside. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” she nodded. “If I die tomorrow and I haven’t done this, I’ll haunt you.”

Minhyuk snorted, already peeling off his sweater. “You’re gonna catch a cold, you know that?”

“Worth it,” she grinned, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the downpour.

The world was cold, wet, and alive. Rain soaked through her clothes instantly, sticking fabric to her skin, making her laugh out loud from the shock of it. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks, her hands slick in his, but her smile was the brightest thing in the storm.

Minhyuk stood still for a moment, watching her spin in circles, arms out like a flower embracing the deluge. And then—he couldn’t help it—he joined her.

They danced like fools, slipping in puddles and laughing so hard it echoed off the rooftops. She lifted her face to the sky and spun until the world blurred, and he watched her like she was the only thing that made sense in the chaos. Her lips were trembling from the cold when she finally turned to face him.

“Well?” she breathed. “Isn’t this the most cinematic thing ever?”

“You’re insane,” he murmured, brushing wet hair from her face.

“And you love it.”

He didn’t argue.

Instead, he stepped closer, one hand cradling her jaw as the rain fell harder. There was a second where the world seemed to still, like even the thunder held its breath—and then he kissed her.

It was slow and aching and soaked through with all the warmth they didn’t have in their shivering bodies. His lips tasted like rainwater and forever. Her hands curled in the fabric of his shirt, clinging to the moment like it might dissolve with the storm.

When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

“You’ve officially crossed it off,” he whispered.

She smiled. “One more thing done before the grim reaper gets here.”

Minhyuk chuckled, wrapping his arms around her as lightning lit up the sky behind them. “Guess I better help you finish the rest, huh?”

“Guess you better.”

And with the storm dancing all around them, so did they.

[teadari]

🩹 Dazai Osamu 🩹

A — Arms Around You

He reels you in with one fluid motion, catching you at the waist. One arm stays wrapped around you, the other casually free—for a cigarette, or some smartass remark he’s been saving.

B — Bleak-Hour Dialogues

At night, his voice dips into low, unlit places. He talks of dying with a strange peace, drawing slow, invisible spirals into your palm as if sketching a map to nowhere.

C — Challenging Stare

Just before a kiss, he fixes you with that unreadable gaze—long, deliberate—until heat rises to your cheeks like clockwork. Then and only then, he leans in.

D — Drifting Lips

He misses your mouth on purpose, brushing a kiss to your temple instead—right where he can feel the thunder of your pulse.

E — Edge of Tease

“Blushing again?” he murmurs instead of saying you’re beautiful, teeth grazing your earlobe like punctuation to his mischief.

F — Fond Irony

Even at his gentlest, his words carry barbs—affection laced with sarcasm, because too much tenderness makes him flinch.

G — Grim Texts

A single message: Alive? If you respond, Yes, he’s already on his way, appearing like a ghost to wrap you up in coat and arms.

H — Held Against a Wall

He kisses like a thief—backed into a quiet corner, your body bracketed, nowhere to run.

I — Inescapable Wrists

He’s oddly obsessed with your wrists—tracing veins, watching the beat there. A place where life thrums beneath his touch.

J — Jet-Black Strand

Sometimes he lifts a strand of your hair to his mouth. Just to imagine its taste. Just to feel it slide across his tongue.

K — Kindly Iodine

He won’t bandage his own wounds, but yours? He handles with surgeon-like care, muttering jokes while the antiseptic stings.

L — Lifted Hood

He adjusts your hood against the rain like he’s shielding a secret—tucking you away from the eyes of the world.

M — Mock Scissors

With two fingers he snips the air in front of you, teasing, “You’re not escaping me today,” grinning like it’s all just play.

N — No-Umbrella Kisses

He loiters in downpours with no intention of finding cover. You’re soaked, breathless, and the kiss tastes like rain and risk.

O — Oaths Unspoken

He doesn’t say “I love you.” Instead, he breathes against your collarbone, “Don’t run.” The meaning’s the same.

P — Perilous Proximity

He leans in until your lips don’t touch but your breaths do—and suddenly you know the flavor of his every vice.

Q — Quiet-Stolen Breath

Halfway through your sentence, he kisses you. Not gently. As if the words you were about to say didn’t matter as much as this.

R — Rooftop Dawn

Pressed to his side beneath a greying sky, he murmurs, “The city’s still alive… for now.” His coat wrapped around you both like a temporary sanctuary.

S — Sarcastic Praise

“You look devastating tonight,” he whispers, thumb brushing your cheekbone. The smile’s sharp. The compliment, real.

T — Thief’s Apology

When he hurts you with words—and he will—he curls around you in silence, letting you sleep in the hollow of his remorse.

U — Unmistakable Bite

A bruise, faint but deliberate, blooms on your shoulder. Possessive. Undeniable. His.

V — Vigilant Bow

On a day when lives hang in balance, he kisses your hand like a knight with blood on his blade—and no regrets.

W — Wordless Silence

He grips your shoulders and just stays there. No words. Just the weight of presence and a heartbeat pressed to yours.

X — X-Link of Keys

A key dangles at your throat. His? Yours? Both. “Could be to your heart,” he shrugs, “or your cage.”

Y — Yoked Holster

You carry a weapon. He adjusts the strap himself, like he’s brushing against the part of you that still flinches.

Z — Zest for Bandages

He lets you patch him up. Not because he’s weak—but because the way your fingers tremble makes him feel more alive than any bullet ever could.

★ — Sleep Shepherd

If you doze off on the couch, he slips your shoes off, tucks a blanket around your legs, and sits vigil with eyes wide open.

† — Thorny Letters

He leaves notes on your pillow like landmines. “Don’t miss me too much.” Signed with a tiny, blood-red heart.

Ы — Warped Truths

He tells you stories to make you laugh. You never notice the tragedy hiding in the punchline—until it’s too late.

Ь — Silent Housekeeper

When exhaustion wins, he brews you tea without a word. That’s his language for love.

Æ — Experiments

“Don’t breathe,” he whispers during a kiss—just to see how long you’ll last.

Ø — Vanishing Act

He holds you all night. Then disappears for a day. Want is sharper that way.

Ω — Venom & Antidote

You’re his poison. He’s your cure. And somewhere between his arms, you forget which came first.

Dazai never gives without testing what you’ll give back. Every gesture is a risk, a joke, a wound in disguise. But if you reach the final letter—if you’re still standing—you’ve learned the full alphabet of his love.