#honestly the main problem with the official is his head

[xzowxzowx]

tried my hand at a quick revamp of the recent tord plush. I've never designed a plush before so please forgive me.

also some accessories for the lil guy..

[actuallybean]

Holy Virgin* | Part Two

You've shared everything with Sam but one thing—your faith. It’s never been a problem… until Heaven turns its gaze on you, and suddenly, devotion takes on a darker meaning. *Contains sexual material, pregnancy, thoughts of suicide/attempted suicide, virginity and has some religious themes: Minors DNI Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (Platonic), Castiel x Reader (Platonic) Tag list: @mostlymarvelgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing Part Three Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Bunker felt warmer on Sundays.

Maybe it was the smell of eggs sizzling in Dean’s old cast-iron pan, the one he swore made them crispier, greasier, “more American.” Maybe it was the way Sam moved slower in the mornings, long limbs draped lazily over the arms of chairs, like his body finally trusted that—for one sacred morning—no one needed saving. Or maybe it was just the way sunlight slipped through the narrow slats of the kitchen window, catching on motes of dust like falling grace. Warm gold on steel and stone. A gentle defiance against how cold the world usually was.

You sat curled at the round table, barefoot, one of Sam’s flannels swallowing you whole, the hem brushing your thighs. You were flipping through a battered old cookbook you found wedged behind some takeout menus in the Bunker’s pantry. The pages smelled like bacon grease and faint mildew, with handwritten notes in the margins—“add more cayenne” or “Dean liked this one”—and cracked eggshells preserved in the spine from some long-ago spill.

“You know,” Dean said, cracking an egg with theatrical precision, “if you two are gonna keep playing house like this, we’re gonna have to get you matching aprons.”

You didn’t even glance up. “Yours would say ‘Kiss the Hunter.’ With a little heart stitched in blood.”

Sam snorted into his coffee.

Dean raised a brow. “Mine would say ‘World’s Greatest Brother,’ thank you very much.”

“You’re just mad she doesn’t cook for you,” Sam said without looking up, nursing his mug like it was the last good thing left in the world.

“She’s never offered,” Dean shot back.

“She’s not your girlfriend.”

Dean turned dramatically, wiping his hands on a dish towel and leaning his hip against the counter. “Not yet.”

You blinked. Sam’s brow twitched.

Dean smirked, eyes glinting. “I’m just saying, man—she already wears your clothes, hogs your coffee, steals your books. How far off are we, really, from a full-on Winchester wedding? You want me to start looking for rings? Or maybe I can officiate it myself—‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in this haunted-ass bunker—’”

“Dean,” Sam cut in, but there was no heat behind it.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, I’m just teasing. Mostly. But let’s not pretend this isn’t the closest thing to domestic bliss any of us are ever gonna get.”

You finally looked up, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You really know how to make a girl feel romantic.”

Dean grinned and pointed his spatula at you. “Don’t I?”

Then, more quietly, more honestly, he added, “I mean it, though. You’re family. You know that, right?”

The humor softened in the space between you, fading like steam off a skillet. The kind of quiet that holds weight.

Your gaze met his, gentler now. “I know.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to Sam and back. “It’s just… this feels good. Normal. And God knows we don’t get a lot of that. So, yeah. I wouldn’t mind a sister-in-law who prays before eating and makes Sam stop brooding.”

“I do not brood,” Sam muttered, deadpan.

Dean ignored him. “Plus, you’re like… the only one who can get him to watch something other than documentaries and sad indie dramas.”

“He cried during Little Women,” you said with a teasing glance toward Sam.

“I did not,” Sam protested, cheeks faintly flushed. “That scene with Beth was—objectively emotional.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. “Sure, baby. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Dean cackled from the stove.

You stayed like that for a beat longer, your hand sneaking across the table under the clutter of old napkins and Dean’s half-finished crossword puzzle. Sam’s fingers found yours easily, warm and callused, lacing with familiar confidence.

“You two make me sick,” Dean announced, scooping eggs onto plates. “If I’d known letting her live here would result in public displays of affection, I would’ve stuck to solo missions.”

“Yeah, but then who would’ve kept you from eating expired Hot Pockets and drinking gas station whiskey on an empty stomach?” you shot back.

Dean raised his hands. “Point taken. Now eat this before I decide to throw it at you out of sheer bitterness.”

He set down a plate in front of you with a flourish. Eggs, toast, bacon, and what looked like an attempt at hash browns—crispy on one side, still raw on the other.

You made sure the boys dug in first.

Dean was halfway through cutting his toast when you folded your hands in your lap, lowered your head, and closed your eyes.

“Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty…” you murmured, the prayer so familiar it came like breathing. You always prayed before eating—especially here. Especially with them.

Dean noticed this time. You could feel his eyes on you. Not mocking. Not confused. Just… quietly watching.

When you lifted your head again, Dean hadn’t touched his fork. He was still staring, brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out a puzzle he hadn’t realized he cared about until now.

“What do you feel when you pray?” he asked suddenly, cutting through the comfortable clatter of breakfast.

You blinked, surprised. “Peace,” you said softly, leaning back in your chair. “Mostly peace. Or hope. Sometimes fear. But never alone.”

Dean tilted his head, chewing on the edge of your words. “Fear?” he echoed, voice lower now.

You nodded. “Not of God. Of everything else. Of what’s out there. Of what we fight. There are days where it feels like the world is held together with duct tape and a wish. But when I pray… it feels like it doesn’t all fall on me. Like someone else is carrying it, too. Someone stronger. Someone good.”

Sam’s thumb moved against your hand again, slower this time.

Dean stared at you for a long moment. Then he looked down at his plate. Picked up his fork. “I get that,” he said quietly. “I really do.”

You watched him take a bite and chew slowly, eyes distant. For all his swagger and sarcasm, there were oceans under Dean Winchester’s surface. You’d known that for years. But moments like this? When he let the water show? They were rare. And precious.

Sam turned to you, his voice a whisper meant only for your ears. “He doesn’t say things like that to just anyone.”

You smiled, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Neither do I.”

The three of you ate in a peaceful silence after that. The kind that didn’t need filling. The kind that only came with real love.

✦

The day passed slow. Lazy. Beautiful in the way only rare peace can be.

The Bunker held warmth in its bones that Sunday, humming softly beneath your bare feet as you padded down the hall, drawn by the scent of coffee and the quiet rustle of pages turning. Hours slipped by like melted honey, and none of you rushed them. Sam had pulled you into the couch sometime after breakfast, and neither of you had moved much since. One of his thick theology books lay open across his lap while you leaned against him, your legs tangled lazily with his, your head resting comfortably against the curve of his shoulder. He smelled faintly of cedarwood and paper, and every so often, he’d reach over to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

Dean sat at the war room table, field-stripping one of his favorite guns, the parts arranged in perfect little rows like silver bones. He had a Western playing on low volume, something dusty and dramatic from the seventies that featured more scowls than dialogue. Every time a horse neighed or a revolver clicked, Dean mimicked the sound under his breath, even as his hands moved with methodical grace over oiled metal. You caught him glancing over a few times—at you, at Sam—and though he said nothing, the softness in his expression was louder than words.

Eventually, when the book had grown heavy in Sam’s lap and the Western ended with a poorly executed duel, the three of you agreed on a better option.

“The Princess Bride,” Dean suggested, casual.

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “What? It’s got fencing. Fighting. Revenge. True love. All the essentials.”

Sam grinned. “He’s not wrong.”

And so it played.

You curled tighter against Sam, nestled beneath one of the patchwork quilts Dean had claimed from an old case in Wyoming. Your cheek pressed to Sam’s chest, and you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his henley, feel the way it slowed in rhythm with his breath as the familiar scenes unfolded. The glow of the television bathed the room in flickering light—Inigo Montoya’s blade flashing silver, Westley’s voice thick with devotion.

“As you wish…”

You smiled into Sam’s shirt, lips barely moving.

Safe. Whole. Loved.

The moment felt suspended in amber—timeless, untouchable.

Until the flicker.

It was small, at first. A brief hiccup in the screen, like the film strip had caught. Then another. Then the lights.

They didn’t go out. Not completely. But they dimmed all at once, shadows lengthening in the corners of the room, the overheads lowering to a deep gold like candlelight. You sat up slowly, eyes scanning the space. Sam’s arm came instinctively around your waist. Dean rose before the sound even finished.

The wings.

That unmistakable rush of air that was neither wind nor sound—but both. Felt more than heard. A hush fell so suddenly over the Bunker that even the old pipes seemed to still.

And then—he was there.

Castiel.

He stood near the archway of the room, his coat rumpled as always, blue tie slightly askew. But his expression was different. Tight. Troubled. His eyes, usually the color of stormy sky, were darker now—clouded with something deeper than worry.

Flanking him were two angels you had never seen before.

They were... beautiful. But not in any way you could call comforting. Their presence carried a weight that made your bones ache, as though gravity itself bowed around them. The one to Castiel’s left had silver hair that shone like polished steel, his face angular, sharp, ageless. The other was bald, his skin smooth and pale as moonlight, but his eyes—his eyes were suns. Too bright. Too much. You looked away instinctively, heart kicking up in your chest.

You tried to stand. Sam rose beside you, his hand lingering on your back.

Castiel’s gaze found you immediately. “We need to speak with you.”

His voice was calm. Low. But there was no mistaking the urgency.

Dean narrowed his eyes, stepping forward. “Cas, what the hell’s going on?”

The silver-haired angel took a single step into the room, and though he moved with grace, the air around him seemed to chill. “We have a message.”

Dean’s hand drifted toward his waistband.

“It’s not a threat,” Castiel said quickly, holding up a hand. “But it is… from God.”

Your breath hitched so hard it felt like something fractured inside your lungs.

You stared at him, then at the others. “Me?”

The bald one nodded once. “You have been chosen.”

The words were like cold water dumped over your spine.

“I—I don’t understand.”

“We don’t either,” Castiel admitted. “The message was delivered by the new Scribe of Heaven. It bore the highest seal. And it spoke your name.”

You shook your head. “There’s a mistake. I’m no one.”

“You are known,” said the silver-haired angel. “You are named. You are prepared.”

Sam stepped in front of you without hesitation, towering between you and them. “What does that mean?”

The silver-haired angel extended a hand, palm upward. “If she allows, we will show her.”

Dean moved now, standing to Sam’s right, voice cold. “She’s not doing anything unless she agrees. And if this is some kind of possession—”

“It isn’t,” Castiel said firmly, cutting across the tension. “No control. No invasion. It’s… more like revelation. A divine vision.”

You stared at Castiel. “Will it hurt?”

“No,” he said. Then softer, “But it will change everything.”

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

You turned to Sam.

He looked at you like you were a world he didn’t want to lose. His eyes locked on yours, hands gently finding your arms. He didn’t say no. He wouldn’t hold you back. But his jaw was tight, and he looked like he was already grieving.

Then, finally, he nodded.

You turned back to the angels. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

The bald angel moved forward. Slowly. Carefully. He lifted his hand and pressed two fingers to your forehead.

And the world disappeared.

No sound. No breath. No body.

Only white.

Endless, echoing white—so bright it was neither color nor light, just... presence. A silence that pulsed. A stillness so pure it hurt.

And then—

A voice.

Not in your ears. In you. Through you.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t boom. But it was. Vast. Timeless. Made of wind and thunder and lullabies and galaxies folding in on themselves.

My daughter. You have been chosen. You will carry My son. As Mary once did, so shall you. This is My will.

Your soul quaked.

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry out that you were not worthy, not ready, not enough.

But there was no mouth. No voice. No flesh. Only your essence—and it bent beneath the weight of His decree.

You didn’t understand.

You didn’t want this.

You hadn’t chosen this.

And then—

The Bunker.

The world rushed back all at once, color and sound crashing into your senses.

You were falling.

Arms caught you. Strong. Familiar. Sam.

Your body trembled violently, your knees unable to bear your weight. Dean grabbed your legs, lowering you gently to the floor, while Castiel caught the back of your head with both hands, keeping you steady.

You were shaking so hard you could barely breathe.

Sam’s voice was frantic. Desperate.

“Hey—hey, look at me. It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Talk to me.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, fists curled in the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his chest.

When your voice finally came, it cracked in half.

“Sam…” Your lip trembled. Your eyes burned. “I didn’t choose this…”

He pulled you closer, cradling you against his chest like something fragile. Like something sacred.

And in the silence that followed, no one spoke.

Because what could they say?

God had spoken.

And everything was about to change.

[eternalguk]

Pink Hearts & Black Clouds | jjk. — teaser

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : tbc.

↠ Warnings : each drabble will outline specific warnings (the teaser has slightly suggestive content at the end)

↠ A/n : Hi there ; here is the official teaser for PHBC 🫶🏻! A small snippet to provide you a glimpse of our strikingly different, but beautiful couple. I hope you can follow this series with me 🤍 I will be trying my best to actively update, so you don’t have to wait too long between each drabble 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

It was hard to miss the two of you, even in a crowd.

First? Let’s talk about Jungkook first.

Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook with his tattooed arms and eternal scowl, which is carved so intricately into his beautiful face, looking as though he belongs on a concert poster for an underground band.

And next? Next, there was you.

Y/L/N Y/N. Y/L/N Y/N who is a vision in baby pink. With your sparkling, innocent eyes and glossy lips, you are a walking daydream who is entirely too bright for the man standing beside you.

Together? Together, you don’t just turn heads. You stop traffic.

No one can deny that you are a good-looking couple, even if most people couldn’t figure out how it all began let alone how it works!

A moody grunge college student and his bubbly, glittering girlfriend? It was the kind of contrast that had people whispering behind their hands. The kind of contrast that got you second glances and furrowed brows wherever you went.

“Are you done staring at me like that?” Jungkook grumbles, his tone flat as he catches your gaze lingering on him for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening.

The two of you were studying in the library. Well… Jungkook was trying to. You? You had busied yourself with organising your makeup bag following the TikTok you had just watched.

You don’t even blink. “Nope,” you say brightly, popping the “p” far too much for Jungkook’s liking.

“You’re too pretty not to look at, Koo,” you croon. “It’s a problem, honestly. What are the rest of us supposed to do when you look like that?”

You sigh, dreamily gazing at the man before you.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, the sharp piercings along his brow catching the light, but there was no hiding the faint pink creeping up his neck. “You’re irritating.”

“You love it,” you shoot back, shifting your chair inevitably closer until you were arm-to-arm with him.

Jungkook gulps, his dark gaze dropping to your lips, like he couldn’t help himself. He stands up, gathering his things as well as yours so you could head home.

There was no way he was going to get a single thing revised here, and you would eventually end up distracting other students around you as you always do. The fact that you still weren’t banned from the library simply shocked Jungkook.

Furrowing your brows, you follow Jungkook’s moves, lips forming a pout as you notice him packing away.

You weren’t making it easy for Jungkook. You never did.

“I don’t want to go home,” you begin, tilting your head as you try to figure out why Jungkook was packing everything away. Organising your pastel highlighters was next on your list of things to do.

“Didn’t ask,” Jungkook mutters.

Leaning up on the tips of your toes with a slow, mischievous grin. “Oh! Are we going home to do… you know what?”

Jungkook chuckles at your use of language. The day you would openly say sex in public? Well on that day, Jungkook… he had already decided that he would buy you all your makeup wish list.

He was currently torn between letting you win or pushing you away just to make a point, but in the end, you always won.

The small, almost shy grin tugging at the corner of your boyfriend’s lips told you everything you needed to know.

“Come here,” he mutters, giving in as his hand slipped behind your neck, his thumb brushing against your jaw.

Jungkook kisses you softly at first, like he wasn’t sure he should be doing it here in the middle of the crowd.

However, you are quick in helping him forget his surroundings the second you make a sweet little sound against his lips.

When Jungkook pulls back, just slightly, your lips are slightly less glossy and swollen. your lashes flutter as you blinks up at him, eyes glistening with need. He exhales sharply, like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs.

“You’re impossible,” he says in a low tone, shaking his head and laughing, knowing you’re turned on. “Can never go even an hour without wanting to be fucked.”

“And you’re smitten,” you tease, not even acknowledging Jungkook’s comment because there simply was no denying.

Instead, you press a kiss to his cheek, just to push his buttons further.

Jungkook’s scoff is immediate. He pulls back and starts slowly heading towards the exit.

Your brows knit into a tangle of furrows again and the infamous pout returns. Where was Jungkook going… without holding your hand?

“Come on then, doll,” Jungkook begins, pausing to turn around and beckon you towards him. “Standing there isn’t going to make you cum.”

You giggle, skipping towards your boyfriend as your mind begins to drift towards filth.

Oh, how you can’t wait to tie your delicate, baby pink bow around Jungkook’s bicep, his strong arm coiling possessively around your neck as you ride him, completely at his mercy.

I can’t wait to share more of this series with you <3 please comment below / send an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist !

[iayos]

𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐄𝐖𝐖) !

jjk boys and their icks… because no man is perfect…

jjk boys x implied fem!reader

cw : men being gross, slight nsfw in nanami’s part, very mild misogyny if you squint in megumi’s part, this post was literally just so i could rant kinda

a / n : long time no see… not much to say other than i’ve been busy !!! anyways hope you enjoy :)

yuji itadori - bad grammar

giving him the tamest one tbh because he’s such a sweetheart </3 idk why but i feel like he just has such shitty grammar… like he’s smart ! just not when it comes to grammar. for example, he mixes up his to, too, and two’s, his there’s, and don’t get me started on your vs you’re :/ again he’s the sweetest boy ever ! it’s just the fact he probably failed his lit classes…

megumi fushiguro - “females”…

i was so close to giving this to satoru but i didn’t cause he has shoko to hold him down, megumi on the other hand… look, i don’t think he’d say it in front of girls, but to other dudes, yk ? and i definitely don’t think it’s on purpose to try and be an asshole but it just happens. quickly unlearns it when he says it around maki though.

yuta okkotsu - referring to himself in third person

you guys know how elmo is like, “elmo wants to go to the park,” yeah… yuta does this. and no, it’s not ironically. he definitely thinks it’s cute too and sometimes it is ! but it’s to an extent. like it’s cute the first couple times where he is goes, “yuta loves you,” but then it gets weird and corny when he’s like, “yuta wants to get dinner,” like ermmmm ok…

toge inumaki - fish pics.

as someone who lives in those south i see these OFTEN. for those who don’t know, fish pics are basically when dudes hold up fish they caught while fishing and post pictures of them holding it… i think the main problem with this to me is that a lot of very weird and racist men do it, so that’s why i hate it. anyways i’m 90% sure he has an official art where he’s holding a fish ( i also didn’t know what ick to give him ).

satoru gojo - his height is his whole personality

this shit irks me so bad omg. as someone who’s short ( 5’0 ) and hates seeing other short people make their whole personality their height, it’s even worst when it’s a tall person. satoru is definitely the type to be like, “omg guysss i bumped my head otw hereeee i’m so tallll,” like no you’re just stupid ! he definitely has other icks but this was the main one i could think of… ik he gets on everyone’s nerves.

suguru geto - says “my bad” instead of “im sorry”

another personal one tbh. i hate hate hate when people do this especially if it’s something serious. i remember one time someone pushed me in the mud ( i didn’t fully go on, just my foot ) and i got mud all over my white shoes and they have the audacity to go, “my bad,” like yeah it is your bad lmao. anyways, suguru def does this often especially to shoko. i feel like he’s pretty clumsy and say if shoko’s studying and he knocks over a drink onto her books he’ll say “my bad” and not even attempt to help her clean it up. like dude at least say sorry or something idk ???

nanami kento - calls his dick anything but a dick

“my member” you are grown !!! say dick !!! he does it to be ‘classy’ but like, he is pushing 30 doing this, just say dick. i also think it’s a shame thing ? idk probably hanging out with stsg for most of his teen years rotted his brain so he hates hearing really nasty stuff but he won’t even say penis half the time. like it’s really not that serious nobody wants to call your dick a phallus ( it was also really hard to give him an ick ).

choso - using 🥺 / 🥹

oh BROTHERRRR this one pisses me off. i hate both of those emojis in general but especially when men do it, it’s cornball behavior. like aren’t you supposed to be fighting in wars ? stand up. but i don’t think he has any ill intentions at all, honestly just picks emojis that represent his mood often. however he definitely uses 😂 instead of 😭… sorry choso…

song : ick - lay bankz

[undiagnosedcruelty]

Bound By Mistake | k.seungmin

Chapter 4: Congratulations, You’re Cursed.

Sypnosis: you accidentally summon Seungmin, a high ranking demon with an attitude problem, you find yourself bound to him by an unbreakable contract.

Pairing: demon! k.seungmin x afab!reader

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Bound By Mistake masterlist here.

Content Warning: supernatural elements, mild profanity and sarcasm, banter, demon presence, seungmin being a menace.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: sorry for the late updates. I my files crashed for this story so I had to re-write some of the lost chapters😬..

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | next chapter coming soon..

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EVERYTHING WRITTEN IS PURELY FICTION──NOTHING DIRECTLY RELATES TO ANY REAL LIFE EVENTS.

Okay. So. You were officially losing your mind.

Between the whispering voices that slithered through your walls at night, the shifting shadows that darted just out of sight, and the flickering lights that made your apartment feel like a malfunctioning horror movie set, you were one more creepy incident away from marching into the nearest church and demanding an emergency exorcism.

Not that you actually believed in exorcisms before now, but desperate times called for holy water, salt circles, and maybe a priest on speed dial.

Honestly, if someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be living with a demon—a very sarcastic, very rude, and questionably attractive demon, at that—you would’ve laughed in their face. Hard. Maybe even snorted a little.

Now?

Now, you were torn between screaming, crying, or just accepting that this was your life now: haunted, tormented, and occasionally insulted by a creature from the underworld.

Because, of course, your uninvited guest wasn’t just a run-of-the-mill demon. No, that would be too easy.

He had to be infuriatingly smug, lounging on your couch like he paid rent, one arm draped over the back as if he owned the place.

 His sharp, angular features were the kind that could belong to a fallen angel—elegantly dark tousled hair, full lips curled in permanent amusement, and eyes like polished obsidian reflecting just enough light to make you question whether they were truly black or something deeper, something endless.

He rolled those very eyes now, exhaling long and slow as you stared him down from across the room, your fists clenched like you were actually considering throwing something at him. The fact that he was taller than you, stronger than you, and definitely more supernatural than you did not deter your rising frustration.

Spoiler alert: You were the main character in a horror movie. And possibly having a mental breakdown in real time.

It started subtly at first. A feeling.

You were lying in bed, curled under the blankets, phone in hand, aimlessly scrolling through social media. The soft glow of the screen reflected in your eyes, illuminating your face in the dimness of your room. The world outside was quiet—too quiet.

No distant car horns. No wind rattling the windows. No muffled sounds of late-night television from the neighbors next door. Just a deep, unnatural silence that made your skin crawl.

You shifted, adjusting the pillow behind your head. Your body was at ease, but your nerves? They were coiling tighter with each passing second.

Then—

A flicker.

Just at the edge of your vision, in the farthest corner of your room, a shadow shifted.

Your entire body locked up.

It was subtle, just a flicker of motion against the wall. But it shouldn’t have been there. That corner was empty—no furniture, no hanging coats, nothing that could cast a shadow like that.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Slowly, pulse pounding in your ears, you lowered your phone, the screen dimming as you turned your full attention to the thing in the corner.

The shadow stretched long against the wall, its edges jagged and wrong, like a distorted silhouette.

Like something was standing there.

A sharp chill licked up your spine, sinking deep into your bones. The air felt heavier, thick and suffocating, pressing against your skin like an unseen weight. Your fingers clenched around your blanket, heart hammering.

You could feel it.

That unmistakable sensation of being observed, like something unseen was crouched just beyond the veil of darkness, studying you.

Your instincts screamed at you to move, but your body refused to obey. You sat frozen, a cold sweat prickling at the nape of your neck.

Then—

The shadow twitched.

Too fast. Too sharp. Like it had noticed you noticing it.

A strangled noise caught in your throat. Your fingers, suddenly numb, fumbled for the bedside lamp. Every movement felt unbearably slow, like wading through honey. Your breath came in short, uneven gasps.

The shadow shuddered again.

Your vision blurred at the edges, panic clawing up your chest. And then—You slammed your hand onto the light switch.

Click.

Warm, golden light flooded the room.

The shadow jerked. And then—It was gone. Like it had never been there.

But the feeling remained. That thick, suffocating weight in the air, the ghost of something unseen still pressing against your skin.

Your pulse roared in your ears, your entire body still locked in place, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

And then—

“What the hell are you doing?”

You screamed. The sound that left your throat was somewhere between a strangled yelp and an outright banshee wail. Your phone flew from your hands, hitting the bed with a soft thump as you whipped around.

Seungmin stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised in deep, judgmental disappointment. He was barefoot, clad in loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, looking like he had just woken up and instantly regretted it.

His dark eyes flicked from your face, down to your death grip on the blanket, then to the very empty, very normal corner of the room.

Then, slowly, deliberately—he looked back at you. And rolled his eyes.

“Oh no,” he deadpanned. “A shadow. How terrifying. Want me to hold your hand?”

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, struggling to find words.

He tilted his head, expression flat. “No? Should I tuck you in, too?”

Your jaw snapped shut. Your brain finally rebooted, and heat flared in your face, chasing away the cold terror from moments before.

“I hate you,” you blurted.

Seungmin exhaled, the most exaggerated sigh you had ever heard. “Yeah, yeah.” He waved a dismissive hand, already turning away. “Try not to die of fright before morning.”

The soft patter of his footsteps faded down the hallway, his presence retreating like a ghost.

Silence settled over the room once more. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look back at the corner.

Empty. Like it had never been anything else. But you knew better.

Shadows shouldn’t move…

…Right?

The next night, it got worse.

You stood in the bathroom, lazily brushing your teeth, staring at your reflection with the dead-eyed exhaustion of someone who had officially given up on understanding their life. The fluorescent light overhead buzzed faintly, flickering just enough to make your skin crawl. The off-white tiles underfoot felt colder than usual, as if the chill in the air had sunk into them, making its way up through your soles and into your bones.

Two weeks ago, you had been a normal person with a normal apartment and zero supernatural problems.

Now? Now, you were soul-bound to a demon who treated your ever-growing terror like a mild inconvenience.

You spat into the sink, gripping the edges of the porcelain as you exhaled sharply. Maybe if you ignored the flickering lights, the shifting shadows, the feeling of something watching you, you could—

“...Mortal...”

The whisper was low, warped—like a voice speaking through cracked glass and static.

Your toothbrush slipped from your fingers, clattering against the sink before rolling onto the floor.

A chill stabbed down your spine, sharp and immediate. You froze, fingers twitching, breath caught in your throat. The air in the bathroom thickened, pressing against your skin, dense and suffocating, like unseen hands were trying to push you down.

Slowly—so, so slowly—you turned your head toward the mirror.

Nothing.

Just your own wide-eyed reflection staring back at you, the fluorescent light above humming faintly, casting sickly shadows under your eyes. The dark circles under them were almost bruiselike at this point, a testament to your steadily unraveling sanity.

Your stomach twisted. And then—

A second voice. “...You should not be here...”

The words slithered through the air, sharp and echoing, as if something was standing just behind you, breathing down your neck.

Your heart exploded against your ribs. You did the only logical thing your panic-flooded brain could come up with.

You screamed.

Loud. Embarrassingly loud.

Footsteps thundered down the hall. Half a second later, Seungmin appeared in the doorway, his lean frame backlit by the dim glow of the hallway.

His dark eyes, sharp with irritation, scanned the room. His expression flickered between concern and sheer exasperation.

He took in the scene—your wild eyes, your trembling hands, your death grip on the sink—and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. His shoulders slumped slightly, an indication that, once again, he had to deal with whatever nonsense you were losing your mind over.

“Are you—” He exhaled through his nose, his voice flat. “Are you kidding me right now?”

You whirled toward him, pointing aggressively at the mirror like it had just committed a crime.

“IT TALKED. THE MIRROR. IT TALKED.”

Seungmin stared at you. Then at the mirror. Then back at you.

He blinked once. Slowly.

Then, with the most exasperated sigh known to mankind, he rolled his shoulders and muttered, “Oh my god, it’s too early for this.”

“TOO EARLY FOR DEMONIC WHISPERS?!” you shrieked. “THERE IS NO GOOD TIME FOR DEMONIC WHISPERS.”

Seungmin squinted at the mirror like it had personally offended him, tilting his head slightly. His gaze held no fear, just a kind of distant annoyance, like someone who had seen this before and found it tedious.

Then? He just. Shrugged. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about it.”

You stared. DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT?!

Seungmin yawned, rubbing the back of his neck lazily as he turned on his heel. “Happens sometimes. Just ignore it.”

“IGNORE IT?!”

But he was already walking away, mumbling something about how mortals overreact to everything.

You stood there, pulse pounding, eyes still locked on the mirror like it might try to swallow you whole.

So.

That was it. That was your life now.

By the third night, you had fully accepted that you were, in fact, cursed.

You had watched enough horror movies to recognize the warning signs— • Flickering lights? Check. • Ominous whispers? Check. • Moving shadows that shouldn’t be moving? Biggest check of your life.

And yet, every time you tried to bring it up to Seungmin?

He just shrugged. “Not my problem.”

You were going to combust.

After the kitchen light flickered for the third time that day, you finally snapped, slamming your hands down on the table hard enough to rattle the salt shaker.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!”

Seungmin, who was very comfortably drinking your coffee, barely even looked up from his mug. He took a slow sip, watching you over the rim with unimpressed eyes.

“Nothing.”

“You are lying.”

He raised an eyebrow, setting his mug down with infuriating ease. “Am I?”

You jabbed a finger at the ceiling light, which was going haywire like a strobe at a haunted house. “EXPLAIN. THAT.”

Seungmin sighed, stretching his arms over his head, his posture so relaxed it was as if he had personally never experienced fear in his life. “It’s just lingering energy from the summoning. It’ll go away.”

Your eye twitched, the last fickle of your sanity felt like it was slipping off by a single thread. “How long?”

“Dunno.”

“DUNNO?!”

Seungmin rolled his neck with a lazy pop, his tone utterly indifferent. “Relax. At least nothing’s tried to kill you yet.”

And the moment those words left his mouth—

Your window shattered.

The explosion of shattering glass sent a spray of shards across the room, the sound so sudden and violent that you barely had time to react before—Something huge lunged into your apartment.

It landed in a crouch, limbs bent at unnatural angles, claws clicking against the hardwood floor like nails tapping on glass.

Your blood ran cold.

It was tall—too tall. Its body was stretched thin, its fingers elongated, tapering to razor-sharp points. Its head tilted at a wrong, inhuman angle, black veins twisting under its pallid skin.

Its eyes—pure black voids, dripping with something thick and inky—locked onto you.

And then It grinned, rows of jagged teeth stretching impossibly wide, black saliva dripping from its maw.

Your stomach plummeted into the abyss.

Seungmin groaned, rubbing his temples like he had a migraine. “Ugh. This guy.”

THIS GUY?!

The demon lunged like a hurled football aimed towards your head. Your brain malfunctioned. You did the only thing your survival instincts could come up with—You grabbed the nearest object and hurled it with every ounce of desperate strength you had.

A fork.

It bounced off the demon’s head like a rubber toy. Absolutely useless.

You were so, so dead.

But before you could even think to do anything more stupid—Seungmin moved. One second, he was leaning against the counter, unbothered.

The next? He was in front of you.

The air rippled. Like an electrifying crack through the atmosphere conspiring against the natural laws of nature.

The demon froze mid-attack, its entire body convulsing, eyes bulging in shock. Seungmin tilted his head, watching it struggle like a bored cat watching a bug. “Do I know you?”

The demon let out a guttural snarl, struggling against something unseen, something invisible to the naked eye. Seungmin’s expression flattened. “Oh. Never mind. You’re just some low-level idiot.”

Then, with a flick of his wrist, almost like he was swatting an irritatingly annoying fly away—The demon collapsed in on itself.

It let out a horrible, distorted scream that was loud enough to shake the walls and quite possibly rupture your ear drums if you hadn’t instinctly moved to cover your ears before it vanished into nothing.

The silence that followed was deafening. You stood there, still frozen, still processing. Seungmin dusted off his hands. “Well, that was annoying.”

You turned, slowly, painfully.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Seungmin smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Still think I’m the worst thing that’s happened to you?”

You glared.

“Yes.”

────────────────────────────────────────

Series taglist: @maisyyyyyy @hyeon-yi @chuuyaobsessed @alisonyus @eastjonowhere @sseastar-main @sweatyracoon @keiizzx @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[lttawnymadison]

TGCF Revised Version Afterword by MXTX

Since I kept seeing snippets of this, I wanted to read the whole thing for myself. I'd already bought the book on JJWXC and did an MTL for this. It's so wonderful that she's back and sharing new things and that the revised is finally done! - Tawny --------------------------------------------- The author has something to say:

Seeing the small red clay stove again.

———— Afterword of "Heaven Official's Blessing" 2022

■ Finally done!

Long time no see! It's another afterword starting with "finally." Without further ado, seasoned readers would know that I make substantial revisions. For instance, scenes like the Bai Feng Mountain Hunt and the ending recognition of Sizhui in the serial version of "Mo Dao Zu Shi" were not originally there.

The revisions in "Heaven Official's Blessing" are the most extensive of all my works. It was a huge project, as it is also the longest in terms of length, serialized over eight months. Due to poor health and other reasons, the revision process was interrupted for a long time before I picked it up again, and it sporadically took about five to six months over several years.

In the era of web novels, there are endless new entertainments, and honestly, not many people re-read a story. Plus, some problems in the serialized version are structural and can't be changed, but I still tried my best to address my regrets. After all, when I was serializing it, I was almost always in a feverish and sick state, barely pushing through. Additionally, I often enjoy comparing different versions of my favorite authors' works back and forth, finding pleasure in the process. So, for readers, discovering "Wow, this part has changed!" is like starting a new journey with Easter eggs in a second round.

■ The new revised version includes about 100,000 words of new content!

These 100k words are mainly concentrated in the latter half of Volume 1 and Volume 3, but there are plenty scattered throughout the text. For example, I fulfilled a promise to A-Hua, giving him several new outfits. Seeing A-Hua dressed beautifully in a new hairstyle to meet his gege made me happy.

In terms of the intensity of revisions, personally, I feel it goes like this:

Volume 1 and Volume 2 > Volume 3 > Volume 5 > Volume 4.

Additionally, the new version cuts some redundant words and plots that weren't very meaningful. However, I tried to keep all the original interactions between Hua Lian as complete as possible. If some minor interactions are missing, they weren't deleted but moved around.

***IMPORTANT NOTE!! MXTX's comments in the below section are about the differences between her first draft and the original 2018 version -- not about the original version and the newly revised version.***

■ One day, I suddenly dug out something.

An antique from 2017, a folder called "Heaven Official's Blessing Setting Collection."

Curiously, I opened it and read with interest.

● Comparing the original setting outline and the main text, the highest fidelity is in the main storyline between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

A-Hua, restored at a ratio of 1:100.

Hua's character setting is the most detailed, and virtually every point made it into the main text, including details like "ghosts don't like the sun, so Hua Cheng sometimes drapes a red cloth over his head"...

Points not used, listed a few:

As a child:

· After being saved from falling off a city wall, he foolishly followed a parade over and over again, grabbing people to ask, "Who is that? Who is that person?" People told him, "That's the royal son, the future Celestial God, the most outstanding Crown Prince of Xianle Nation ever!"

(This point couldn't be used because in the text A-Hua was held in the Crown Prince's arms after being saved)

· At home, he was often punished to stand or kneel, not given food, and wore old clothes, accused of stealing money. Whenever he argued with his family, he would stubbornly sleep in the Prince's temple overnight.

· Went to Mount Tai Cang to volunteer sweeping red leaves at Huangji Observatory, just to sneak peeks at his future wife happily swinging.

After becoming the ghost king:

· One of his hobbies is buying and building houses everywhere.

· Very protective of his leather boots, would (badly) polish them until they shone.

· To other devout followers of Xie Lian, he said: "You have good taste."

· Secretly prepared many betrothal gifts for his beloved god, wanting to marry him!

The character setting of Xie Lian as a teacher in the serialized version compared to the initial draft, the serialized text subtly differs. The initial draft was more... exquisite and elegant, very serious. The serialized text is more... humorous. I think perhaps because some plot points were tragic, Xie Lian thought he should be happier to make the readers more relaxed, so he drove me to adjust his mental state! But due to the spiritual oppression at that time, the character's depth was not enough, while in the new revised version, I hope he can show a more self-content state on the same core basis.

Excerpts from the unused original setting:

· Super easy-going. Easy-going means: if given fifty bucks, he would happily dress in drag and dance. Accepts haggling. Thirty bucks works. Twenty bucks too!

· The observatory is small, the house is broken, wants to grow flowers. Leaks during rain, so he uses a bucket to catch rainwater.

· Because he can't afford a caretaker, he cleans himself, and also feeds chickens. Chickens eat flowers. Keeps a cat.

· Completely engrossed in discussing serious matters, he unknowingly finished all the broken sweet dumplings!

● Water, Earth, Wind original setting:

The highest fidelity is the main line between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, followed by the Water, Earth, Wind subplot.

The main conflict hasn't changed. Just... how could the original setting of Water, Earth, Wind be so dark and terrifying!

The character morals in the main text improved a lot, otherwise, the original Black Water would be sheer scheming + murderous! The ending for the Wind Master would have been more tragic.

The Venerable of Empty Words suddenly became an improvised character. It seemed like an ancient fable-like monster, making the main text more interesting than the original setting.

Overall, the formal version is a bit better written than the original draft.

● The unfortunate life of Lang Ying:

Lang Ying? Is there such a character? I don't remember!

Ah? It seems there was such a person, but I don't remember any of his plotlines.

This is most people's feeling towards the character of Lang Ying. It's not a delusion because he barely had any significant plot. In fact, any valuable scenes could have been replaced equivalently, so in the new revised version, I deleted this character.

But, in the 2017 setting collection, I suddenly found that I had actually opened a separate document for Lang Ying, and his role was defined as a "growing-type BOSS!"

I was silent.

And immediately opened the document, curious about my initial setting. A "growing-type BOSS," how did he become someone whose deletion went unnoticed...? (I even don't know how to address him!)

Who knows, perhaps out of excitement, I accidentally pressed the wrong shortcut, and somehow it became irreversible, leaving only an empty document for me to stare in disbelief. The once "growing-type BOSS" has now forever become a mystery!

This is the unfortunate life of the deleted Lang Ying.

· There was another document in the setting collection called "Swordsmith." I opened the document and read it with interest.

I was shocked. Because I completely forgot I had conceived this story. Why didn't I write it?!

Darn.

I know why I didn't write it. This story... it had no ending!

——————— Thus, the magical glimpse into the "Heaven Official's Blessing Setting Collection" concludes!

■ I like men with stories!

Maybe because I watched an outstanding work as a child. It was a memoir, the protagonist in the biography was gentle and affable, and the protagonist in the memories was cold and ruthless. The story was scattered with the poignant fragrance of white plum blossoms amidst bloody and stormy circumstances.

This almost perfect work deeply influenced my aesthetics, leading me to be most interested in the memory parts of characters in various works. Although many viewers prefer the present scenes, often asking when the memories will end, I actually find these intense and painful memories to be the most fascinating!

A story is the history of a character, as well as the key to their personality. A person with a story stands before me like a puzzle. The way to solve this puzzle is to understand their story. Because the biography makes one curious to know more about a character they like, loving them more now because of their past. When serializing "Heaven Official," my greatest pain initially was telling myself, "This time I don't want to write a memory slaughter," deliberately trying to avoid a structure similar to previous works, yet I still hadn't found a better way to express it, resulting in my deep dissatisfaction with the later part of Volume 1. I was also hesitant to fully commit to the memory scenes in Volume 2, and with the heavy mental burden, this part was very painful to write. When revising, looking at Volume 2 was almost unbearable, because I'm the type of person who, as a child, would immediately switch channels when a TV show's protagonist was about to be wrongfully accused or embarrassed. I couldn't help but knock on a friend's door and ask:

Me: Was the author suffering some kind of mental trauma at the time? This negative energy is too horrifying, the protagonist is so pitiful, I really admire anyone who could read through Volume 2 completely.

Friend: Do you even have the right to say that?

But the memory slaughter in Volume 4 was much freer, written in one breath, so the revisions for this volume were also the least.

So, will you still write large segments of memory slaughter?

Um, well, we'll see, haha, hehe...

■ Closing Remarks:

Lastly, I'll address the question some asked me, "Will the new revised 'Heaven Official's Blessing' be more torturous?"

Me: You're talking nonsense. 'Heaven Official's Blessing' is a sweet pampering story, thank you!

Acknowledgments:

Shi Nai'an wrote in the preface to "Water Margin": "On snowy nights, about five or six people listen to my storytelling; on rainy days, about seven or eight; on bright and sunny days, about ten. I read, everyone listens, and we are all happy, with no other thoughts." When I read this as a young person, I was delighted. What divine days! Writing first to entertain oneself, then to entertain others. Self-expression and self-acceptance are certainly primary, but the affection of others is also a significant positive feedback. Thus, first, I thank the steadfast readers who have accompanied me all this time. I've thought about just walking away amidst the noisy disputes; abandoning the account amidst the tumultuous world! It seems not bad. But looking back, I can't bear to leave some truly sincere readers.

I've had authors I liked disappear from the internet, and I always feel like a part of my youth has vanished, a feeling quite distressing, reminiscent of overly grand and harsh things like the tears of the era or the torrent of history. So, I want to accompany my readers as long as possible, hoping that the day of parting comes later. Perhaps I'm not good enough now, but I will strive to be better in the future. Or perhaps you've never truly understood what kind of person I am, or even completely misunderstood me, but as long as you genuinely like my stories, we can sit down and chat.

And, I must mention my friends, who can be described as having the courage of a hero. Long time no see, Teacher Changyang's illustrations are still as beautiful as those of a celestial being, I hope Teacher CAS can go to bed earlier and worry less, and Teacher Kuohao, who despite a heavy workload, still fully honored our agreement. The "Heaven Official's Blessing" radio drama is really fantastic! It reminded me of the original intention of writing this story, and I was very moved. If it weren't for the silent companionship and efforts of these old friends, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu might have stopped writing back in 2016, disappearing from the world of martial arts, and thus, "Heaven Official's Blessing" would not have been born. I look forward to retracing the paths we once walked together when gathering ideas. And many friends who reached out to help and encourage me, thank you for accompanying me through the snowy nights.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 7: Snowed In

Pairing: Four x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: I honestly love this one lol; did get a bit suggestive, but I'm keeping this clean for y'all.

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Previous Day | Next Day

Well, you thought as you stared out the half-covered window into a veritable sea of freshly-fallen snow, there's no way I'm going to work today. It wasn't often that it snowed in your part of Hyrule, and even rarer that it reached the awe-inspiring height of what had to be mid-thigh on you. Fuck that, you might as well use those vacation days you'd saved up for moments like these, especially when your boss was a tiny old lady who lived a mile up the road, meaning she wouldn't be caught dead wading through the catastrophe that was last night's blizzard.

There was a creak, and you were torn from your thoughts when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. "You're up early," Four murmured against your shoulder, his breath puffing across the bared skin where your tunic sagged, and you couldn't help but huff a laugh at the countless memories of him waking before dawn. Sometimes it was nightmares, and occasionally insomnia, but you'd found it was usually to get a head start in the forge. You had no complaints, especially when he wore that sleeveless tunic beneath his heavy apron. A contemplative silence followed. The snow outside continued to fall. "...You're not going to work, are you?"

You shook your head, placing your hand over his clasped ones. "Not a chance, I value my life."

"Good, I was worried," came his smartass response, and you smacked his wrist in retribution. "Sorry, sorry, I was distracted."

You shouldn't; it was a trap of the highest caliber, primed and waiting. Despite this revelation, you opened your mouth for something that wasn't food or dick and took the painfully obvious bait. "By what?"

Four pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder before delivering the very blatant, very terrible punchline: "You."

"Wow, for realsies?!" You gushed, and the sheer force of his eye roll could have broken down more doors than you'd seen the knights of Hyrule do on their off-time.

"You're a menace, you know that?"

You didn't even try to contain your glee. "Absolutely. It's my best trait."

Four, unfortunately, was less than impressed. "That's beside the point," he huffed, the tip of his nose ghosting over your flesh.

"Actually, I think it is the point," you shot back, giggling when he held you a bit tighter, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that made you want to take the holiday festivities to the bedroom. Again. "But since you're so desperate to change the subject since I'm obviously right, how do suppose we spend our first official snow day?"

"I have a few ideas," responded your boyfriend, a little too casually to be completely innocent.

"Oo, like that creaky floorboard by the kitchen?" you asked like the little shit you were. "Or that very dangerous loose nail on the porch?"

"Actually–"

"Or! Didn't you say the forge needs a deep clean?" you smirked, turning around in his grip to wrap your own arms around his shoulders, giggling when the point of his nose brushed your sternum.

Four's eyes narrowed, and you swore they flashed a bright, brilliant blue before fading to a familiar, muddy green. Despite the height difference, his gaze made you feel like he was at least a foot taller. "It will when I'm done with you."

"Wow, no breakfast first?" you joked, watching as the tips of his ears pinked, though there was nary a crack in the expression he was giving you.

There it was; a deep, unfiltered violet. "Who said I wouldn't be eating?"

Well, hot diddly darn, he had you there.

Despite the many, many innuendos shared between you and Four throughout the morning, the forge remained mercifully undefiled, which was a miracle unto itself.

You didn't flinch when the Hero of the Four Sword tugged your arm, expression drawn. "It's no problem, I can–"

"No," you adjusted your bandana and glared at the top corner of the room, where a large spiderweb resided. Let it never be said that you two skimped on cleaning duties, but the frequent adventuring had taken a larger toll than you originally assumed. "I've got this, Link. You're too young, too beautiful."

"You say that like you're not–"

"Hush, beloved," you used your free hand to press a finger to his lips, making sure to sound as dramatic as possible. Fuck common sense, you wanted to be ungovernable. That, and the romance novels you'd taken to in his absence. "With love comes sacrifice, and this is mine. Do not despair, my fate is sealed."

Four's gaze was one of amused exasperation. He released your arm, running a hand through his stick-straight strands. "At least let me get you a chair? We both know that broom isn't long enough."

"If you must," you simpered, leaning on the broom like an overly emotional maiden, just shy of placing the back of your hand across your forehead. "Know this: every second lost is a sweet sorrow, my love."

"...How do you feel about expanding your reading horizons to nonfiction?" your boyfriend asked dryly, irises swelling with a familiar purple color.

"Gasp!" You slapped a hand over your heart. "Blasphemy!"

Even though Four was pretending to be unamused, not even a fool couldn't miss the way the corners his mouth ticked upwards. "...I'll get that chair."

"You're the man," you grinned.

"I'm the man."

You were ready; the chair was properly positioned beneath the web and the broom was appropriately brandished in your dominant hand, aimed directly at the bane of your sleep schedule. That damn spider.

"You've got this," Four encouraged from below, holding the chair to prevent it from tottering. "Remember: strike quickly to disarm your opponent."

"Got it," you said, eyes trained on said opponent. The broom was no sword, but it might as well have been in your hands. "Strike quickly... like a bee. A really quick bee."

"Buzz buzz," were Four's next words as his intrusive thoughts won once again.

"Fuck yeah, baby," you grinned, drawing your arm back, pointing the base of the broom at the web. "Buzz me up."

"Oh, I'll–"

It happened so quickly. You inhaled. Exhaled. Prepared yourself for the possibility of failure, though it was hardly an option. Then, you struck, slamming your broom into the epicenter of the woven threads with a dull thud.

Then, out of nowhere, a dark blur whizzed past your face, and you felt something land in your hair.

You couldn't help it. You screamed.

"Oh my Hylia!"

It was on you; it was fucking on you!!

You shrieked again when something skittered across your scalp, practically tearing your bandana off to dislodge the creature, which was your second mistake of the afternoon. The bandana, complete with a small black blog clinging to the edge, sailed downwards, splatting against Four's very confused, very shocked face.

"Wha–" The hero let out a muffled sound of bafflement, tearing the cloth away from his beautiful face, and promptly gasped when he caught sight of the very alive, very fast addition. His hands scrabbled to remove it, but the fucker was quick. "By the three–!?"

Amid the chaos, you managed to hop down from the chair, brandishing your broom like a weapon of m-ass destruction, feeling nearly feral from the adrenaline rushing through your veins. "Stay still!"

Four's gaze snapped up, and you caught the very second he registered your next move. Terror coated his expression. "WAIT–!"

You whacked the broom against his chest, screaming in terror when the spider skittered onto the thick bristles, heading straight for you. A string of curses left your mouth, and you would have been impressed with their variety had you not feared for your very life, flinging the object away like it had burned you.

It clattered to the floor. The spider escaped. You felt ready to pass out.

Slowly, you turned to Four, wheezing and clutching his chest. Slowly, you spoke.

"...Fire rod?"

A determined expression crossed the hero's face. He straightened. "Fire rod."

Gotta put some holiday fails SOMEWHERE lol.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Okay here we go

Does Stanfraud's eye still bleeds, like when Bill was possessing Ford or doesn't because of his bigger connection to Ford's body?

Is Stanfraud an uncle/big brother figure to Soos, like Stanley is his dad figure? Does Bill even care about him even a little😢

I know that the main focus of this au is on Bill, but since Stanley didn't try to pretend to be Ford, how did Stanley's and Filbrick's first meeting went after the whole "getting kicked out" thing"? Especially since both Stan and Ford were definitely broke at the time

You mentioned that Bill still has access to a little portion of his powers, what are they exactly?

Anyway your au is genuinely awesome and seeing it on my dash is always a huge treat 💛💛💛

Okay the first question I really want to answer because I’ve been thinking about this:

— His eye definitely bleeds on occasion. Even though he is far more connected to Ford’s body here, he’s still a demon possessing a host. He shouldn’t be there. There’s some outer force keeping him trapped. So I have thought about the fact there would probably be some lasting impacts on the body due to possession exposure for so long, such as the eye bleeding becoming a regular problem and gradual loss of vision in that eye. There may also be other physical impacts, but I’ll work on those when I manage to get down an official design for him.

— Great News! He is like Soos’ weird uncle! That may be where he learned to be somewhat decent around kids, honestly. He absolutely tried to mess with him at first, make jabs, tell him the date of his death, attempt to drive him to madness just a little (this is why Stan had to get rid of the last handyman), but Soos proved to be incorruptible and took all of Stanfraud’s weirdness in stride. Bill does end up caring about him. He goes as far as to liking their conversations. Soos keeps up with his chaos! Even Bill isn’t sure what’s going on in that head of his (when he gets his own body back he’s going to find out).

— Though Bill is the main focus of the plot-change, the other aspects are equally as important and so I’m glad they also have people’s interest! Their first meeting is… tense, to say the least. If Filbrick has any regrets, which I think I’ll leave up to interpretation, he’s far too stubborn a man to show them, and would rather dig himself further into a hole than admit he made a mistake. Stan desperately just wants to ignore all the scathing comments and get this little reunion over with, until Filbrick makes a comment about Ford, then Stan snaps. You can insult him, he probably deserves it, but not his brother. Sure, they may not be his brother right now, but the intent is there, and that’s what counts.

It cuts everything short, with Stan grabbing Fraud and telling him they’re leaving (He doesn’t complain).

With Filbrick, I do kind of want to explore their dynamic over the years while he’s still alive, especially with Stan, but also with how he’d treat ‘Ford’ and his odder behaviour. I don’t want to just make Filbrick a one-dimensional character though, as I think there’s a lot to be said about the cycle of abuse and parental projection so. While the AU may be based around the question ‘what if Bill got stuck possessing Ford?’ The answers it has lead me down a lot of different paths to explore — such as this!

— The powers he has access too lessen over time, but currently he is somewhat capable of seeing potential future outcomes (ciphervoyance), pyrokinesis, telekinesis, faster healing factor and teleportation. Note that all of these are in a much weaker state and drain Ford’s body and by extension Bill heavily — especially teleportation. Doing that once can cause him to pass out, so it’s more of an emergency thing, most his abilities are honestly. Too much focus is required.

And I’m so happy to be a little treat on your dash!! I hope you enjoy all this just as much!

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Act 4 Prologue (Matias Asbrink)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

At the same time, in Acroite.

Large snowflakes fluttered down like flower petals, painting the traditional stone-built streets white.

The main street, illuminated by street lamps, was bustling with crowds of people. However, there were no troublemakers here, no drunken shouts or fights like in other countries.

In this country, governed by the strictest laws on the continent, those who disturb the peace are quickly apprehended and held accountable for their crimes.

Yet amidst the orderly and well-maintained streets, there was a corner where women gathered unnaturally.

Woman 1: “Please join me at the lovely party I’m having tonight.”

Woman 2: “That’s not fair. Please also come to my party.”

Woman 3: “Where are you off to at this hour? If you’re interested, would you like to join me for dinner?”

Matias: “I have work to attend to. Please excuse me.”

Slipping smoothly out of the midst of the women, with his golden hair gathering the twilight’s glow and snow-shadowed eyes tinged with melancholy, was Matias, the guardian of Acroite’s law.

Though his appearance and demeanor were stern, there was an alluring aura about him that made the women gaze at him dreamily.

Matias: “Haah.”

With a sigh, he casually brushed back his smooth blond hair, eliciting another round of cheers from the women behind him.

A colleague, a judge, then playfully tapped his back as he swiftly walked away to escape their intense stares.

Lars: “Quite the charmer, as always, huh? Matias.”

Pushing up his round glasses, the man smiled teasingly at Matias, and his expression changed to a more relaxed one.

Matias: “Lars, if you saw that, you could’ve helped me.”

Matias: “You know I struggle with women.”

Lars: "I know, but having too many admirers is honestly a problem I envy. I wish I could trade places with you."

Matias: "You wish you could trade places with me? Did you see those women? They had the eyes of warriors determined to annihilate their enemies."

Lars: "I think they were all beauties, though."

Matias: "Whether they're beautiful or not doesn't matter. The only woman I need is my soulmate."

Matias: "She doesn't need to dote on me or stare at me like those women. All she needs to do is wish me luck, fix my tie, give me a kiss, and wave goodbye before I head to work."

Lars: "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I've heard about your embarrassing fantasies more than a hundred times, Matias."

Lars: "Are you alright, though?"

Matias: "I've been saying it since earlier, but I'm not okay. You have to back me up next time."

Lars: "I meant about the trial. The defendant this time is your friend, right?"

Matias: "Ah, yeah. We were roommates for a while back in the Royal Academy. We enlisted together and served in the same unit."

Lars: "You were close then."

Matias: "He was a good guy. Cheerful, smart, and quick-witted. He was good with women too, effortlessly handling situations like earlier."

Lars: "I see. Matias, about that..."

Matias' snow-shadow-colored eyes gaze straight at his colleague, looking somewhat uneasy.

Matias: "It's fine."

Matias: "I'm a man of the Asbrink family."

The Royal Court, which determines the nation’s justice, was filled with a solemn atmosphere tonight.

The defendant and his defense attorney, the government officials prosecuting his crimes, and numerous citizens in the gallery all watched with bated breath as the five judges, especially the guardian of the law, sat atop the judicial platform.

Matias: “I’ll now deliver the verdict on the suspicion of unauthorized leakage of classified Acroite military information.”

Matias: “Defendant, step forward.”

The defendant stepped onto the witness stand.

Though looking severely worn out, his eyes, fixed on the guardian of the law, held a faint glimmer of hope.

It was well known among some circles that the defendant had a friendship with the guardian.

As everyone sought to interpret the meaning behind the intersecting gazes, the sound of the gavel resounded.

Matias: “Death penalty.”

After delivering the merciless verdict, the courtroom fell into a brief silence before erupting into chaos.

Defendant: “Matias, are you really going to kill me!? Me, who ate, slept, and fought alongside you? We're friends, aren't we!?”

Defendant: “You can’t do this!”

While the defendant cried out in despair, Matias appeared entirely unaffected.

Matias: “That does not excuse your crime.”

Defendant: “Isn’t a death sentence too heavy for a single mistake?”

Matias: "The law is justice. If you are a citizen of Acroite, obedience is absolute."

Matias: "All you can do is comply with the verdict that has been passed down."

With a detached voice, Matias continued to gaze directly at the collapsing defendant, seemingly in despair.

Matias: "The execution will be carried out in five days, at noon."

Defendant: "M-Matias..."

As the defendant was taken away, Matias watched them with his snow-shadow-colored eyes.

To dispel the murmurs, he struck the gavel twice.

Matias: "This concludes the session."

As the people left the courtroom in silence, he stood alone.

It was unusual for him to stay in the courtroom after it had adjourned, without a clear reason.

Walking to the spot where the defendant had collapsed during the trial, he gently touched the witness stand with his fingers.

Though his snow-shadowed eyes flickered slightly, he murmured with the same emotionless voice as during the trial.

Matias: "I did the right thing."

Matias: "I'm Matias, the next king of Acroite, a proud man of the esteemed Asbrink family."

Matias: "Until all evil is condemned, I cannot afford to stop."

☆ Ikepri Masterlist

[alevolpe]

Hi, I hope you’ve been doing well!

I love your art and interpretations of the characters, especially in regard to your ideas about each senshi’s fuku design. I was wondering if you had any particular opinions on the official Classic, Super, and Eternal forms? Anything like design elements of the fuku to even the colors for each senshi? Apologies if you’ve been asked something like this, I just really enjoy your thoughtful responses you give in your asks.

Thank you so much! Means a lot.

I don’t have a lot of opinions on the forms past the Classic forms, I don’t hate them, but I just feel a bit.. indifferent. I know people like them, but I don’t tend to think about power-up forms very often, I just love the base forms too much.

Regarding if I have any problems with them, yeah. They do tend to fall a bit under the redesign upgrade problem a lot of shows and even games characters have. When trying to freshen up a design, a lot of them tend to trip over themselves and just take “redesign” as “over design” aka add more shit or overcomplicate shit.

Now Sailor moon does NOT have too much of that, overall the upgraded designs are not too bad. Not my favs, but not bad.

Let’s take a look at them shall we. (For the sake of brevity I’ll just keep this discussion on Sailor Moon’s design and not the other senshi. Mostly cause she gets changes the most and secondly cause their changes are not as prominent)

I LOOOVE Sailor Moon’s original design, her classic fuku is Classic for a reason. The deep navy blue and magenta red fit her so well and they help make the blonde of her hair, tiara and smalldecorative moons pop.

Her silhouette is very simple, it has a very nice flow with her hair being the only long element, allowing for fluidity but most importantly clarity. Her nice soft hair buns, bangs and lack of sharp angles in her uniform work amazingly through shape language (made a post about it here) to make a comforting and friendly appearance.

Also small note but I adore how her bangs and tiara come together to form a quite subtle but present heart shape. (She’s so cute)

Now her Super form is honestly.. pretty good! Doesn’t beat the original, but I like the direction. The stronger incorporation of white ties nicely to the element of her becoming queen in the future, adorning a white gown. The splashes of color on the skirt are also a nice touch, reminds on of bleeding soft watercolor runnning down a blank page, fits with her butterfly theme too (this part makes sense in my head, hopefully u get it).

Now to the not so good part, the shape.. she’s so sharp. It’s NOT a dealbreaker, I think it could work with the theme of her growing more into her role as Sailor Moon, gaining confidence and thus allowing herself to appear a lil more dangerous, but still soft. It’s important that the sharp angles present in her uniform do not interfere with the hair shape, the buns are still there, as soft as ever.

And now to her Eternal form. I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it either. Weirdly enough my main problem with it is not what seems to bother everyone else, the bubble sleeves, but the colors. I don’t like the colors. The blonde of her hair is now mixed in her skirt, the classic soft magenta red is turned into sharp deep red, the color of her bubble sleeves is really distracting cause it’s the only pink element present and the skirt triple layer ending up of the darkest color does not allow the eye to slide off it to the shoes easily (unlike say if it was darkest color to lightest from top to bottom, instead of the opposite).

The color reversal on the shoes is not a deal breaker either, again that “white taking over” theme is nice, but it’s like.. broken. Her skirt is back to being colored more than before so the thematic washing of the colors is undone in this form, instead taken over by a various assortment of bold colors.

I also think that the angel theme was slightly overdone, the 2 pairs wings on her back pair with the wings on her broach are just a bit too much for me and overcomplicate the simplicity of her broach. It’s like, do you get she’s an angel yet?! Here, have another pair of wings!

Lastly, it rlly bums me to see her nice simple silhouette being muddled by the wings, even though I don’t hate the wings themselves. Just what they do to her silhouette.

Overall I think I tend to have more problems with the uniforms than most people cause they do follow a theme that most people LIKE in sailor moon, which is a regular average girl becoming something larger than life, but idk.. the original uniform just gives off that vibe of the friendly down to earth girl who everyone knows in town. It brings a sense of unity and space in a way, cause it feels more urban, while the other uniforms start incorporating more and more abstract themes which, to me, take a bit away from the flawed but relatable comfort of this messy, imperfect, but trying her best Usagi Tsukino who’s wearing a uniform to help the people she loves around her.

[dollyyss]

The idea of the main four + butters and how they comfort you when you’re sad and distant?

Idk I be in my feels lately 😭🙏 BUT UR WRITING IS SO GOOD PLEASE

I’m actually getting some requests and I’m so fucking thrilled you have no idea, but I’m trying to push this one out as soon as possible to try and cheer you up!!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The main four + butters comforting reader who’s been sad and distant.

Established Reltionship ₊ ⊹

All characters are aged up! Highschool AU! ‧₊˚✩彡

Kyle, Stan, Kenny, Cartman and Butters 𐙚

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mentions of being sick in Stan’s part,

Kyle 🐇𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒🪐

- He’s the problem solver, the “tell me what it is I’ll fix it” rather then the one to comfort right away. Kyle isn’t so great with emotions, right away at least.

-He’s probably confused at first. He try’s to give you your space as that’s what you seem you need since you’re being so distant from him. But even when he is giving you your space, any class you two have together he’s glancing at you from time to time to make sure you’re okay. He’ll take down extra notes for you if he notices that you’re just not participating.

-He’s worried for you, when school is over and you won’t even let him drive you home like he usually does? That’s when he speaks to you.

-He finds you in the crowd of high school students getting ready to go home, on your phone putting your earbuds in to walk home until a large hand grips your shoulder “baby what are you doing?!” You look back at Kyle in slight shock not exactly knowing who was touching you at first. “Home?” It was the first time you spoke to him today and though he was worried about you he was at least happy you finally spoke. “Well I waited by your locker.. and when you didn’t show up I figured you’d be at my car, let me take you home please” he grabs your gloved hand and leads you to the car and once you arrive you take your hand out of his. This causes him to close his eyes tight and turn to look at you “look. Y/N I have no idea what is going on with you today okay and I’d love to help you but you can’t push yourself away from me. I understand if you don’t want to tell me but please don’t ignore me. When you’re ready to tell me we can fix the issue.” You look up at him with slight teary eyes and he’s a bit taken back “can you just hold me..?” Your voice is what breaks him. “I’ve just been really tired.. I’ve been stressed I just.. was having an off day..” Oh. He feels bad now for looking at the more logical side and wanting to fix it when all you really needed was for him to just be there. He slowly leans his back against the passenger door and pulls you in by your arm, his hands gripping onto you tight and pressing his chin to your head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you just needed me..” you snuggle into his open jacket, his warmth engulfing you as his thumbs rub at your back. “I love you, yknow that? But don’t ignore me next time please.”

Stan .° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ

- I think Stan gets a bit distant himself when you get like this. He doesn’t understand why you’re closing him out and not speaking to him so like Kyle he kind of lets you be. But I think it’s more due to his own insecurities. Wendy was like this before they broke up officially. So seeing you get cold on him.. he wants to throw up but not out of butterfly nerves no out of actual fear that you’re just breaking up with him. Buts it’s not the case, you’ve just had a really shit day and honestly all you wanted was Stan.

- once he’s done throwing up out of actual fucking fear he’s shaking to find you because it hits him that.. you’re just upset. And he shouldn’t be freaking out like this.

- “Jesus Christ Stan.” Kyle wraps Stan back up in his jacket as he stands back up, wiping his bottom lip and flushing the toilet rid of his vomit. “Just talk to them, I’m sure they’re just upset, maybe all they need is a hug, I don’t know maybe some time with their boyfriend” Kyle notes as he grabs Stans hat off the floor and swallowing slightly disgusted at how damp it was from Stan sweating so much from getting sick. “Maybe dude I don’t know they’re not usually like this when they get upset they’ve never been so cold to me like this.” There was silence as they walked out of the boys bathroom “there’s no harm in trying.” The ginger stated as he handed back Stan’s hat and walked off to get ready for his next class. When Stan found you, you were closing up your locker and running your hands through your hair. It was clear you were tired, your eyes had almost been weighed down, your hair was slightly messy, your coat seemed baggier, you just looked. Sad. Stan approached you softly taking you into his arms “Stan, there are like.. a shit ton of people around us right now.” He only sighed and placed his head in the crook of your neck “just, stand here for a minute please. I know you’re upset and I’m sorry I hadn’t realized sooner” he swayed you side to side for a moment, taking in his cigarettes and cologne before looking up at him. “Thank you..” he hummed gently before placing a kiss to your forehead, pushing back your hair “come to my place after school? We can watch a movie, anything you want. “Sure Marsh..” you paused for a moment “did you.. get sick.?” You looked up at him with curious eyes before he placed a hand on your face and pushed you softly “shut up.”

Kenny ₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉

-there is no being distant with Kenny. He knows when you’re upset and he acts on it so fucking fast. The minute he sees your eyes have changed in demeanour he’s there in a heart beat.

-He’ll never pry you with questions, he’ll never make you talk about It if you aren’t comfortable in the moment. He lets you take your time and he’s there for you to use to feel better. He’s always aware when something is off with you, he knows when something is too much for you, or you just need a moment. Kenny may be a little ass hat but he’s very aware and caring when it comes to you.

-“ Clyde you’re actually such a fucking dumbass” Kenny spoke up. His arm had been around your shoulders, both sitting in the cafeteria while Kenny spoke to his friends. The toothpick between his lips twirled between as him and Clyde went back and forth ripping on each other, for no reason at all. “You really think Bebe still likes you? News flash pretty boy she doesn’t, should have seen her at the party last night trying to get with every fucking jock she laid her eyes on” Clyde and him both laughed as Clyde punched his arm in a playful manner. As the rest of the boys chimed in Kenny softly looked at you. “Hey you, you’ve been quiet you okay?” His hand softly rubs at your shoulder, taking his toothpick out of his mouth and placing it on the food tray. You slowly nod your head before looking down at your hands; fidgeting with them. “No you’re not.. is everything too much for you right now? Too loud?” You look at him a bit teary eyed and he had his answer. He got up with you grabbing your hand and grabbing your book bag to walk with you through the back of the cafeteria doors that lead to some stairs behind the school. Once he got to the steps he set your book bag down, sat you on his lap and took his parka off to place over your body. “Kenny you’re gonna catch a cold.” You stated sniffling as he shook his head “don’t worry about me pretty baby, you’re what’s important right now” you rest your head on his shoulder, your arms coming to wrap around his neck and you cuddle into him. He lets you sit in silence with him, closing your eyes and relaxing into him.

Cartman 🎧✮🧺✧˖°

-Mm. Rather then the hugger he’s the stupid fuck that does stupid shit to make you smile. He’ll kinda go to outrageous lengths to get your attention, because he’s an attention whore for you so shut up.

-he honestly doesn’t like when you’re upset because he says it kills his mood but he also just wants you to be happy with him. So what’s better then to ruin someone’s else’s day just to make you feel better. He may or may not also buy you some food and a stuffed animal to cheer you up.. because him dicking around gets him a scolding from you.

-“.. what? What do you want me to say? I’m not saying sorry. That Jew totally deserved it.” You cocked a brow at him, arms crossed and foot slightly tapping on the ground as you looked up at him. Cartman swallowed. “Babe.. babe listen to me okay? I’ve always hated that ginger devil spawn anyway okay it was coming to him sooner or later” he said in a soft tone to cheer you up in which you only rolled your eyes at him. He sighed and looked down “I’m sorry.. here..” he grabbed the large bear and McDonald’s from the porch and placed them in your hands. “Now do you forgive me..? Will you be you again, you’re kinda killing my vibe here” “cartman you stupid fucking idiot.” A laugh escapes your lips when you take the food and bear and place them on your stairs. You pull him into a hug and kiss his cheek “I’m not an idiot..” he mumbles but smiles ever so slightly into the hug knowing that he was able to make you happy even if it wasn’t him doing some stupid shit to Kyle. At least he managed.

Butters ˚☆🐈*๑

-…He’s crying. I mean it. He’s balling his eyes out. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to do when you won’t talk to him and you distance yourself from him. The boy is about 10 seconds from having a god damn panic attack.

-he’s gentle with you, he’ll pull out some colouring pages for you to do because he knows how much they calm him down and put him in a better state of mind so he lets you colour some. He’ll even print out any specific ones you like. And he’s there. At your hip. Not leaving your side until you have a smile on your face.

-he becomes really touchy, when you tell him you just aren’t having a good day he understands and he pulls you in close to him, his head resting in yours while he listens to your rant about anything that’s bothering you.

- “darlin.. your quiet, very quiet” his hands interlock together before pulling apart and his fingers then pick at his other fingers. “Well I don’t quite like you like this..” he mumbles to himself before he’s biting his lip. You look up at him with a gentle look, teary but gentle and he could fall apart right there. He almost starts crying with you “oh dear! Oh gosh heaven above!” He’s rushing towards you instantly his hands quickly finding anything warm to wrap you in and pull you to his chest “you wanna colour! It’ll help you stop thinkin’!” He brings up the option and if you say yes he’s practically flying towards his colouring sheets, many having intricate designs and patterns and some being simple. “Pick which ever one you’d like” he grabs some art supply’s and displays it all on his bedroom floor for you. “Butters..” he cocked a brow looking up at the sound of his name “hm?” You look at him gently and place a kiss to his chin “I’m sorry if I was being distant, just not having a good day is all..” you lean against him. “Well that’s alright! We all have those days, you can’t have good ones without em, you just scared me a little that’s all.. heh” he pushes some hair out of your face and squishes his cheek against yours. “You uh, you wanna talk about it?” With a quick nod he immediately is sitting criss cross beside you, his arms around you as you colour and rant to him about how you felt. His lips press to the back of your shoulder and he watches you contently listening to every single word that poured out of your lips. His hands rub your sides and he’s staring as lovingly as possible at you.

[gunsatthaphan]

Someone pointed out the similarity between STSD and Enchante’s failure, and I think it makes a lot of sense. Both series lacked side stories for their supporting characters. They focused too much on the main characters without developing the surrounding cast, which made the storylines feel flat and rushed. There wasn’t much depth or room to explore other perspectives, so the plot ended up feeling stuck and unengaging

Personally, I think Enchante was a lovely and cute story, but its execution was all over the place. As for STSD, it was a bold move for MO. Putting the nonsense writing and execution aside, I feel like GMM rushed into building a ship without giving the actors time to develop real chemistry. As soon as MO got a bit of attention after Last Twilight, they immediately pushed out a script for them—probably just to capitalize on the hype and make money. Maybe that’s why they’re taking more time now before officially announcing any new ship. Looks like they’ve learned their lesson

Lastly, yes—Mark Pakin was right. This industry is a game where you need both talent and luck. MGB didn’t have the best script—honestly, the editing was rough at the start too. But the team behind it truly gave their all when it came to promoting the series. They tapped into every platform available, doing everything they could to reach audiences. And to their credit, things improved—the editing got better after viewers spoke up, and the layered storytelling started to offer more depth and discussion points. All of that combined made a huge difference in how the series was ultimately received.

I don’t really see MO as a long-term ship. To me, Mark feels more like someone in the same lane as Neo—versatile, but probably not meant to be tied to just one on-screen partner. I still wish them all the best, though. Maybe things will click better in their next series.

hi anon!

(a few rants under the cut lol)

I haven't seen Enchanté so I can't say much about it but I can see how the situation might be similar to STGD. Setting up MO as a ship so shortly after Last Twilight might've felt a bit hasty but I think if the chemistry is right and they click - which they do - then it's not a bad thing at all. The real issue is the script. JittiRain stories are mostly simple but even if the plot isn't super elaborate, it takes effort to turn it into something good because crafting a good narrative out of the mere basics is just as difficult as putting a complex story to the screen. I'm guessing they went over their heads and underestimated the work it would take to perfect it, so the problem does not lie with markohm or their underdeveloped chemistry but with the screenplay and production.

And yes, Mark is 100% right about what he said about the industry and if there's one thing that's unfair about all of this it's the reception and success of series, especially when all they take into account is engagement on SM. People usually only care about the actors so if a show has a bad script but actors with pre-established fanbases, the show goes through the roof and no one give a shit about the script. if a show has an equally bad script and actors who are only medium-famous, it gets torn to piece. That being said there are TONS of gmmtv shows that are of the same or a similar quality as STGD but got good reviews merely because of the cast which is a double standard that's very frustrating.

On another note and while I'm going off lol, I find the culture of productions altering their shows while they're on air according to the viewer's feedback kinda problematic tbh and idk how often that actually happens, also for MGB, but I don't like it. I know the intentions are good but the fact that they need the audience's feedback to realize that their work is not sufficient is... weird? Maybe I'm the only one who feels that way. But it's time the people in charge sit down on their asses and treat every show like a serious project, craft a good script and hire qualified postproduction staff, however long that may take. it can't be that hard. And money can't be the problem here either. But that's a whole other can of worms.

About MarkOhm's future as a pair - I have great faith in them, stepping back from stgd, I see an excellent chemistry which, if utilized correctly, can undoubtedly keep up with the other pairs, if not even surpass them. They got a rough deal with their debut but I can see them in a lot more projects with different settings and different characters etc. so I really hope they get to shine next year, or maybe even make appearances in some upcoming shows this year. they deserve it.

xxx

[rubykgrant]

This took entirely too long to finish because I wanted to give them pretty outfits, and I know nothing of fashion, so I re-drew the clothes like a dozen times, and I finally don't hate it at least, so I'm done!

ANYWAY, what's this? Is that Tucker and Poppy? Yeah... I didn't plan this. I had many different scenarios for how Poppy meets the other characters, some in small groups, a few one-on-one. The real defining relationships I had in mind for her was giving Red Team a new person (they get so few), it was really important that she meets Sarge first when he's missing his boys (but doesn't want to admit it), and when she joins the group, Simmons THINKS he's gonna hate her, but nah- they just vibe (he in particular doesn't have a buddy except for Grif, he needs another friend!). Yes, Poppy is also a secret (fake) Freelancer, but she wasn't involved with the main shenanigans back in the day, so she doesn't have a strong past connection to Wash and Carolina (but Red Team is still proud they finally got their own Freelancer, even if she wasn't "official"!). The way I had her meet Tucker; Sarge wants somebody to give an example of Freelancer training to the soldiers he's working with (not yet knowing that Poppy was part of that). Wash and Carolina are busy... but, hey! Tucker went through that kind of training, and he's got the calves to prove it! Tucker arrives a little early, planning on making a cool entrance... and then he falls down a hill. Poppy is the only one around at the time, so she helps him back to his feet, and promises not to tell anybody what happened. When she introduces herself, she uses her first name, so he returns in kind- Lavernius. As the training demonstration goes on, Tucker and Poppy occasionally make quiet little sarcastic comments the others don't hear, and when Tucker says something that makes her laugh, Poppy happily tells him- "Hey, you're funny!". Tucker isn't used to people appreciating his quips, so he has a little moment where he goes... "I am?"

WHOOPS. That was cute. I didn't plan on that being so cute. I really didn't. It just happened. Now I had the problem of imagining how far they could go with this. Honestly, I was a little hesitant to have an established character in a relationship with one of my OCs... it felt almost arrogant or something, like- look at my OC, she's so special, and this cool character LOVES HER. It also felt like I was being dismissive to other relationships people like that involve Tucker (which is a lot, because he is indeed a lover-boy). So, even as I continued to think about my RVB story-line, I kinda kept anything with Tucker and Poppy off-to-the-side in my head. They kept being cute, though. He really decided- "I will prove how mature and polite I am capable of being by NOT hitting on the first new girl we've had in the group", and then he caught FEELINGS. He doesn't know what to do with those when they're SERIOUS. It really doesn't need to be so complicated, though; Poppy likes him right away. She knows she going to fall in love with him, and when she does, she just waits for him to kinda catch up. There are a lot of things they wind up sharing, including humor, quiet moments, comfort. They show each other their favorite movies, they ask "what is something you never got to do when you were younger?" and then help each other do those things (and Tucker feels what it's like when somebody is interested in you with a soft and slow kind of passion, that can still be fun and playful. not only did I realize how cute they could be... I realized how much Poppy would adore him. Tucker doesn't have to do any flirty smooth-talking, or prove anything to her. she wants him to know how much she appreciates being able to listen to him talk, being able to hold him, being able to share this closeness, and what it really means for her, who has never been drawn to anybody before, or even felt lonely for something she didn't care if she might be missing. they're both together now, and nobody has to miss anything~)

Tucker is standing in front, with Poppy behind him, She has her arms wrapped around his waist, one hand on his hip, the other hooking her fingers to the hem of his pants. Poppy is leaned over slightly, pressing her face to the crook of his neck, kissing him where the skin is exposed. Tucker has one hand raised in a thumbs-up, the other holding Poppy's arm at the wrist. One of Tucker's legs is raised slightly, where Poppy's knee brushed against his inner thigh. He has a proud smile on his face, giving a wink. Tucker has short black hair, warm-dark brown skin, and tiny double stud silver earrings. His shirt has a loose unbuttoned collar, with the sleeves rolled up above his elbow. The color is mostly dark-teal, with a pattern similar to celestial/astrology circles and stars in a lighter aqua. His long-sleeved under shirt is a vibrant peach tone. His pants are a pale cream color with a darker shade from the knees-down, with short boots that are a foggy-gray. Poppy is wearing a top that is styled like an a-symmetrical vest in a pale seashell white, with a wrapped sash around her waist that is a dusty rose color. Her skirt is a gradient of turquoise/yellow/pink in pastel colors, with dark mauve leggings, and short red boots with buttons on the side. Poppy has a sandy-tan skin tone, and long brown hair with lengths parted in the center and swept back from her face. Her expression is relaxed and pleased

[violetmuses]

Tandem - Multifandom Crossover ❤️‍🩹

Title: Tandem - Multifandom Crossover ❤️‍🩹

Fandoms: “Rebel Ridge” + “Bad Boys” 

Characters: Terry Richmond + Armando Aretas

Love Interest: Female Reader 

Main Storyline: When Terry Richmond arrives in Miami, who knows what could happen next?

Tandem Masterlist

@peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex @readingisahobby @kindofaintrovert @nelo0wesker @gg-trini @cloveroctobers @maliagurl @nobodygetsza @twinklestarslight @yassbishimvintage @sweetiepie4190 @persethegawd @mangoes03 🏷

=====

2024

Relocating to Miami, veteran Terry Richmond wanted to start life all over again after escaping the rural and dangerous town of Shelby Springs. 

Upon entry, the new apartment offered more than enough space. Justice grounded some peace, but even with his cousin avenged, time still burned. 

After taking this much-needed shower to clear emotions, Richmond dumped the weathered backpack and organized his very few items. 

Learning the brand-new area, Terry signaled that elevator and chimed down. Modern decor prolonged this lobby as sunlight illuminated. 

Just before Richmond headed outside, one different man entered the building. 

Detective Mike Lowrey of the Miami Police Department would introduce himself to staff members. 

“Someone will move here, but we'll handle everything.” Lowrey took charge. 

Red and blue overcasts crossed that Florida skyline. Even sirens wailed. 

What the hell? Terry thought. 

Just when Richmond planned to ask questions, the entrance opened. 

Officials escorted this handcuffed man right into the complex and Richmond's nerves heightened with each passing moment. 

“Yo, what's going on? You good, man?” Terry almost gritted his teeth. 

This guy named Armando Aretas wouldn't respond at first. 

Wearing this Bud Light shirt, Aretas chose one trucker hat that veiled his brown eyes. Jeans covered both legs and boots stepped along. 

“It's fine, we got it.” Lowrey noticed Richmond's concern and tried to settle this problem down. 

“What in the world?” Several people offered questions as well. 

Yet when police unfastened Armando's handcuffs, voices shared relief in all directions. 

“Come with us.” Lowrey gestured to Richmond and led Aretas near the elevator. 

“Yes, Sir.” No matter what, Terry offered respect as all three individuals moved upstairs. 

________

“It's a long story, but Armando is my son.” Lowrey stood in the hall with Richmond once Aretas settled his own apartment. 

“Why bring out that police motorcade?” Terry squinted. 

“Like I said, it's a long story. Just know that he works for the department now.” Lowrey explained. 

“Aight.” Terry cleared his throat. “If he's not in trouble, I'll feel better honestly. Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” Detective Lowrey excused himself from Richmond and returned to Armando's space.

Time would explain what happens now. 

*****

Armando woke up as sunlight greeted the bedroom windows. Gaining this furnished apartment, he organized essentials yesterday. 

Packing his new laptop bag, Aretas left to “explore.” 

Reaching the hallway, Armando pinged this elevator and noticed that someone joined. 

“Terry.” Richmond ended up clipping his name first. 

“Armando.” Aretas wouldn't make eye contact, but followed Terry's lead with introductions. 

“You good?” Terry repeated his genuine question from yesterday. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Armando accepted Terry's kindness. 

Heading outside, both men walked in silence as vibrant lanes of South Beach lined up. 

Cheerful voices beamed and upbeat music played out loud from vehicles while Terry acknowledged surroundings. 

“Found a coffee shop.” Richmond pointed near one storefront and welcomed Armando past its threshold. 

“Good catch.” Aretas moved. 

_____

“Morning. Could I have some black coffee and a muffin, please?” This muscular man stepped toward the counter and greeted you. His bright eyes nearly prompted your heart to rattle. 

“Got it. Anything else?” You grinned while counting his order. 

“No, Ma'am.” Terry almost smiled not long after paying up.  

“Can I have a name for the order?” You set out markers. 

“Terry.” Richmond quickly stated his own first name

“Thank you. Just wait for a second.” You prepared everything. 

Stepping out of the line, Terry gave room for  different customers, but noticed Armando using his laptop from this window seat. 

“You want something?” Terry leaned inward this time around. 

“I'll get up in a second. Appreciate it.” Aretas noticed Richmond's words again. 

“Terry?”  As expected, you called Richmond's name. 

“Be right back.” Terry reached the main counter again. 

“Here you go.” You handed out his order and smiled once more. 

“Thank you.” Terry almost grinned before sitting back down. 

______

Armando stepped up next and Terry observed everything. 

Once you rang more items and called Aretas, Armando gathered his regular coffee and took one scone, not even messing up his device. 

“Not bad.” Aretas said. “I'll have to leave soon, but thanks for helping.” 

“No problem.” Terry nodded, but looked elsewhere as this Porsche rolled near the curb. 

“Gotta go.” Taking coffee, Armando stepped outdoors and joined the passenger seat of Mike Lowrey's classic ride. 

______

Staying behind at the coffee shop, Terry observed how you handled customers and clocked out that afternoon, leaving this place just in time for lunch. 

“Excuse me?” Richmond stood from that window seat and questioned you. 

“Yes?” You welcomed him outside as this bench waited near the storefront. 

“I'm new here, so thank you for the coffee.”  Terry stepped forward and shook hands.

“Of course.” You smiled. 

“Something happened at my apartment complex yesterday. This guy moved in, but officers showed up and…” Richmond trailed off when you cleared your throat. 

“Armando Aretas…” You nearly whispered. “The police are quiet for different reasons now, but look up his name whenever you can. Most of that information is public.” 

“I will. Thank you.” Terry stood and began to walk away, but you spoke up once more. 

“See you tomorrow?” You wanted to know if Terry would come back. 

“Yeah, I don't mind. Take care.” Terry nodded and bid farewell, leaving your side. 

******

Buying his own laptop, Richmond planned to learn information. 

Nothing could've prepared him for upcoming details, though. 

What the fuck?! 

Realization tunneled this search. Soon enough, Terry's heart raced and dropped all at once. 

Aretas launched havoc on several counts and attacked officials from the Miami precinct four years ago. 

Richmond even found one vital news report from the large-scale case: 

“Famed Miami Detective Mike Lowrey was shot one evening. The video quickly surfaced online and went viral in a matter of hours. Footage first appeared on the darknet and soon spread to mainstream social media platforms. Authorities believed that the shooter uploaded this video himself.”

Damn! Terry slammed his laptop, fed up beyond words. 

No matter what, Armando's crimes remained true with permanent ink. 

*****

Another morning brightened, yet Terry's mind clouded again. 

When Armando's main door opened, Richmond almost flinched while unarmed. 

“Hey, hey, Woah! You good, T?” Armando lifted his empty hands. 

“The barista warned me and I did some research last night. Y'all left out too much.” Richmond turned frustrated without yelling. “Nobody told me about your case.”

“Dammit!” Aretas paced back and forth, quietly upset. “I can explain what happened, all right?”

“Go ahead.” Terry arched his brow. “I got plenty of time on my hands.”

_______

Sitting with Terry in private, Armando started talking first. 

“After leaving the military, I joined the family cartel. My mother planned everything and hoped that I wouldn't spare Lowrey.” Aretas grounded his truth. 

“What happened to your mother?” Terry settled the question. 

She's dead.“ Armando never hesitated with that phrase. 

“Damn, man.” Richmond attempted. “The case is harsh, but I'm sorry.”

“Honestly, there was nothing good about our situation.” Armando declined. “She lied to so many people.” 

“You learned the truth now, right?” Richmond attempted. 

“Yeah, but you know what? I really don't wanna talk about this anymore.”  Mentally exhausted, Aretas stopped debating and glanced toward his new watch.

“Fair enough. You're right, so let's get out of here.” Apologizing, Terry stood from the bench and followed Armando to this new spot. 

*****

“Hi, Terry. Good morning.” You've smiled and already learned his order as Richmond faced the register. 

“Morning. Thank you for giving the update with Armando. We've talked.” Richmond quietly acknowledged how he checked details last night. 

“Of course. We can't risk more issues if people haven't learned that case because Armando just got back.” You nearly whispered the response like code 

“You know a lot about this one.” Terry glanced around. 

“I used to work as an informant.” Still facing Terry now, you offered black coffee and handed over this muffin again. 

Wow. Richmond noted. 

_____

“Hey.” Slightly accented English rasped near your direction when Armando stepped forward. 

“I'm not a snitch.” There's no joyful greeting this time around. “We've lost too many people and I just want everyone else to be safe.” 

“I know.” Aretas completely understood your point. 

“Listen, I'm not afraid.” You arched one brow while ringing up his regular coffee with another scone. 

“I searched your name, too. Why give up the police department for a coffee shop?” Aretas moved ten steps ahead and had learned all about your skills. 

“You.” Your genuinely pleasant voice darkened for the first time. “Once the case guaranteed prison, I quit.”

“Thought you weren't scared?” Armando slyly chuckled and departed the line, waiting for his order. 

____

“Armando?” When you called his name, the area nearly silenced and almost everyone held their breath. Even Terry closed one fist to veil his mouth. 

“Ooh!” Everyone observed as you traded the items. Within seconds, Armando stepped back and didn't face drama. 

When Aretas sat back down, Terry almost smirked. 

“Why the face?” Armando clipped. 

“She hasn't kicked you out.” Richmond pointed near the register as you kept working. 

“Whatever.” Aretas casted both eyes toward that ceiling. 

______

Armando exited that local coffee shop as Mike Lowrey's classic Porsche rolled out again. Before long,  Richmond sat with privacy this time. 

When you began to leave for lunch once more, Terry still noticed your presence. 

“Don't worry.” Terry laughed and opened the front door for you. ‘I'm not hard-headed like Armando.” 

“Very funny.” You walked toward Florida sunlight and joined the storefront bench as usual. “Any plans today?”

“No, Ma'am. Still figuring out my apartment complex.” Richmond glanced toward you. 

“You'll learn.” Now, your gentle voice encouraged him. “Living somewhere new is a process.”

“I understand.” Terry nodded. 

“Oh, shit! Sorry, but I gotta go.” Your phone buzzed seconds later. 

“No problem. See you.” Saying goodbye, Terry watched you almost jog around the block for some odd reason. 

What now? Richmond thought. 

*****

Once you entered this restaurant, confetti popped upwards. 

“Happy birthday!” Members of the AMMO squad cheered after standing from this large table. 

“I thought you needed something! This is my lunch break.” You hugged weapons expert Kelly and tech genius Dorn laughed for a moment. 

“We've already cleared the schedule with your manager.” Captain Rita Secada welcomed your spot from that table. “Take this weekend off.”

“Thank you, Rita. Everything looks great!” You smiled toward the platters and would share each meal with friends. 

Just before indulging, you realized that Detective Marcus Burnett, Mike Lowrey's longtime partner and best friend, peeked around one corner. 

“Where's my niece? Happy birthday, girl!” Marcus shuffled footsteps into the private room. 

“Thank you, Marcus!” You opened both arms to hug Burnett and still observed his recovered heart. 

Not long ago, Marcus collapsed during Mike Lowrey's wedding. 

Lowrey fell in love with Christine, an experienced physical therapist. She also help .ed Mike heal with his shooting recovery that took place years back. 

“Doesn't matter if you've left the team. You're still important, Rook.” Marcus shortened one of your nicknames. 

“I appreciate it. How's everyone?” You acknowledged Burnett's family. 

“Everybody's fine. Megan just gave birth to a baby girl.” Smiling, Marcus counted his second grandchild. 

“Aw! Congratulations, Grandpa.” You laughed while messing with Marcus. Even Kelly almost giggled. 

“Pop-Pop.” Marcus corrected the title and arched his brow toward you. 

“You're still old!” You joked right back and everyone cackled. 

_______

“Happy birthday to you!” Servers pushed the cake forward as everyone sang along. 

Grateful, you blew out candles and prepared your sweet tooth, sitting beside Kelly and Rita. 

“Oh, damn! You cut the cake already?” Detective Mike Lowrey showed up with his wife Christine. 

“Might bring this party to the house, Rook. Now we're crammed in here!” Marcus chuckled. 

“Stop it, Marcus! Let's get some cake and go from there.” Mike jokes with his best friend. 

Even you hugged Christine, sharing dessert with everyone as sunset arrived. 

There was no better feeling here. 

******

Armando returned to this apartment and showered after trading used car keys from Mike at the precinct. 

Lowrey had just picked up his wife Christine to celebrate your birthday elsewhere. 

“Going back home with everybody if you wanna visit.” Mike called. “We can't stay at this restaurant all night.” 

“I don't think she likes me.” Aretas knew better than to interrupt your surprise. 

“Even you and I need to work on things, but I'm trying all right?” Lowrey still attempted. “Come over. It'd be good.” 

“I know. See you later.” Armando hung up, prepared to deal with the occasion. 

****

“Don't argue tonight.” Marcus warned both  you and Armando. 

“Hey, be careful. Now you're instigating.” Lowrey cautioned Burnett. 

“Hold up, I brought wine.” Settling down Mike and Marcus, Aretas carefully held two bottles. 

“Thank you.” Mike welcomed Armando inside and you found Christine again, heading to the backyard. 

______

“Still mad at me?” Armando offered the question while sharing cake with you. 

“No.” You shook your head. “Only cautious.”

“That's fair.” Aretas nodded in return as music played. 

“In all seriousness, how are you doing?” You wanted to help Armando regardless. 

“Better. Things are pretty quiet.” Aretas offered his vague response. 

“Started messing with Terry yet?” You laughed about one regular from the coffee shop. Terry Richmond even became Armando's neighbor.

“No, but can I ask you something?” Aretas leaned back in his chair. 

“Yeah?” You silently waited for Armando's next move. 

“You want him?” Armando clipped the unexpected idea. 

“What are you talking about?” You squinted. “We just met.” 

“Y'all smile almost every day now.” Aretas pulled his observations with Terry. Even coffee transactions looked more joyful. 

“It's none of your business, but you sound jealous.” You nearly laughed. 

“C'mere.” Throwing out trash for both of you, Armando started flirting. 

“Yes?” You stand from the table and trailed Aretas, intrigued. 

“Stop ignoring me.” His slightly accented English nearly whispered to reveal this truth. “It actually hurts my feelings.”

“Did I hurt your feelings or bruise that ego?” You corrected his phrase this time. “Get it together, okay? You're not the big bad wolf anymore.” 

Taking your words, Armando became outright silent as you walked away and started dancing with everyone else that night. 

*****

The next morning, you wake up after somehow choosing this living room floor. 

In some corner, this air mattress waited nearby and even one of Armando's wine bottles looked empty. 

What happened last night? Your now pounding mind buzzed questions. 

When Kelly emerged from the kitchen, you took random sunglasses to dodge brightness. 

“Where's everybody?” You stood up and joined K, greeted by many choices to eat. 

“Mike and Christine are running errands, Rita left, and Dorn took my car to the auto shop.” Kelly pinpointed almost everyone. 

Before you'd question Armando's spot, footsteps moved toward the living room. 

“You're wearing my sunglasses.” Aretas chuckled and gestured by your face. 

As you gaped while embarrassed, Kelly covered her mouth in shock. 

______

“What happened last night?” You offered the question between Armando and Kelly. 

“Lots of drinking and dancing.” Kelly just smiled towards you. “We all crashed down here when Mike and Christine went upstairs.” 

“How much did I drink?” You absolutely cringed right now. 

“You finished that wine bottle with Armando and danced together.” Kelly took a moment and drank water. 

“Dancing?” You then furrowed your brow near Aretas. 

“Yeah, it was fun.” Armando nearly smiled, but caught himself. 

“I definitely have some videos. Hold on.” Kelly seemed more and more humored. 

“Oh, no!” You removed the sunglasses, but still veiled your face this time. 

Just when Kelly began scrolling, Armando's phone started ringing.  

“Hello?” Both you and Kelly stopped messing around when Aretas picked up the call. 

“Dude, it's Terry. We need help, man!” Terry Richmond somehow contacted Armando. 

“What happened? I'm listening.” Aretas put Richmond on speakerphone to hear every detail. 

“The coffee shop's manager is dead.” Terry exposed that truth loud and clear. 

*****

As sirens wailed throughout and emergency lights flashed beyond direction, yellow tape met that coffee shop when law enforcement intervened. 

For the first time since quitting, you prepped one of the uniform jackets and dodged guidelines to help. Sitting back would never become an option. 

“Estimated time of death?” You questioned experts after joining that crime scene. 

“Last night around 10:00 PM.” One professional spoke up this time. 

“Quick kill. Discreet enough to avoid some outward panic.” Mike observed, requesting for you to bring Terry Richmond for questions. “Get Terry, Rook.”

“All right.” You turned away from that body bag while the forensics team moved along. 

______

“Explain what happened, T.” Drifting back to the police station, you joined Armando while Terry occupied this interrogation room.  

“Uh, everything seemed normal. Walked by the coffee shop and picked up my order as usual, but when I left that restroom to go home, there was spotting on the floor.” Terry leveled his response right now as bright eyes focused. 

Spotting? Fuck! You realized. Blood. 

“Where did you find that spotting?” You offered more questions for Richmond while Armando typed. “Did you see anything in the restroom?” 

“No, Ma'am.” Terry cleared his throat. “There's an employee door and office space located directly across from restrooms.”

Bingo! Of course you memorized the layout this year and pictured each area. 

“Who found that body?” You offered that chance just in case. 

“I found your manager sitting dead in his office chair.” Richmond's deep tone answered. 

Despite remaining composed, your heart still dropped. 

______

“We'll block this area until further notice. Who knows what else happened?” Returning to the crime scene, Lowrey took charge again. 

“Looks like another homicide case.” Marcus Burnett cringed. 

“Nope.” Lowrey declined. “Our squad just confiscated plenty of drugs, too.” 

“What the hell?” Burnett still can't believe what's going on. 

“Rook, bring Terry along.” Lowrey asked you to invite Richmond near everyone else as a precaution. 

Here we go. 

*******

Once this team confirmed an investigation, Mike, Marcus and Rita returned home before kicking off the police department's brand-new game plan. 

You bring Terry around as expected and gathered remaining members of the AMMO squad. 

“Sorry for the last-minute rush. We can't take any chances if you stay near that crime scene.” You explained this plan as Terry entered your house. 

“Don't worry. I get it.” Terry nodded, glancing around. 

“Make yourself at home. Kelly and Dorn would crash here all the time.” You welcomed Richmond. 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and gathered his backpack, scoping the residence just in case.  

______

While Kelly and Dorn occupied one of the guest rooms, Terry showered upstairs. 

Down by that kitchen, you've set up this Bluetooth speaker and quietly played music while cooking for everyone. If only circumstances improved. 

“Hey.” Slightly accented English caught your attention and you carefully turned around. 

“Almost done making dinner. Did you need something?” You asked. 

“Where's your outlet? I just need to charge my phone. ” Aretas lifted his cell. 

“Check underneath my kitchen counter.” You gestured for a moment and finished cooking as Armando walked over. 

“Thanks.” Armando plugged the phone and washed his hands, setting the table with five plates or matching silverware like second nature.  

When that kitchen table looked ready this evening, you'd texted the group chat and everyone started heading downstairs without fail. 

“Smells good in here.” Terry almost smiled over some good news. 

“Thank you, T.” You still expressed gratitude right now. 

“You're welcome.” Terry's bright eyes almost glinted once more. 

Kelly and Dorn sat together, but Armando observed when Terry found this spot near you. 

“Let's not mention the case. How's everyone feeling?” Dorn spoke up next. 

“Never respond. We'll end up with therapy cards…Ow!” When Armando faced Terry, you stepped on his foot under the table. 

“Don't be rude.” You say.

“That hurt.” Aretas clenched his words near you and Terry sipped water to avoid laughing. 

“Get some ice or stop complaining.” You're just trying to eat and Armando frustrated nerves once more. 

“Damn!” Even Terry chuckled while Kelly and Dorn almost looked on. 

“What's so funny?” Armando clipped venom toward Richmond this time. 

“Chill…” Terry warned. “Regardless of the case, you're getting uptight now.”

At that moment, Armando stopped talking and excused himself from this table, choosing to finish his meal outside near the patio. 

Ditching your meal, you followed his path and closed the sliding door. 

______

“What the hell?” Your voice started debating. “You can't keep doing this shit!”

“Go back inside and leave me alone.” Ignoring his plate now, Aretas locked eye contact with you. 

“Don't tell me what to do in my own house!” This nearly raging tone gritted anger. “I brought y'all here for safety reasons.” 

“Why even do it?” Armando kept going. “We can take care of ourselves and you're not a babysitter.” 

“I won't leave anyone behind, not even you, Armando.” No matter what happened next, your words shared this vow. 

“Thanks.” Heading back, Aretas found his spot at the table and tried to feel better. 

******

“Everything okay?” Terry checked on both of you when Kelly and Dorn planned to sleep. 

“We're good. See you in the morning.” Armando nodded and would shower late before resting himself. 

“Aight, see you tomorrow.” Richmond dapped up Aretas for the evening, but stayed downstairs with you. 

Glancing over your shoulder, smiled for their moment of kindness. 

_____

“Don't worry. I'll straighten things up. It's the least that I can do. Terry wanted to help out as you'd reorganize the kitchen. 

“We'll work together. Deal?” You compromised instead. 

“Deal.” Terry cleared different places as you cleaned up. “So how long did you stay with the police? Y'all have pictures everywhere.” 

“About seven years.” You've signaled the dishwasher. “AMMO wasn't even founded yet when I joined that precinct.” 

“Impressive.” Terry almost whistled before fanning out this new trash bag for the garbage. 

“Thank you.” You smiled and described the origin of your nickname: Rookie. “Mike and Marcus call me Rook because of my age. It's not an academy thing.”

“You know enough information and can't feel outdated here.” Terry washed his hands before sitting down in the living room once you both finished responsibilities. 

“Yeah. It's sad, but let's just say that older CIs aren't discreet anymore.” You joined Terry. “No comfort means no details.” 

“How did you find Big Dawg?” Almost laughing, Richmond vaguely referenced Armando. 

“Someone called with an anonymous tip that night.” You explained. “We locked down coordinates and found a bloodbath sprawled out near the Miami Harbor.” 

Shit! Richmond shook his head. 

“How rough?” Terry went on. 

“No survivors: shootings, stabbings, money toppled over that dock. It was one of the scariest things I've ever seen.” You remembered the problem, but never crossed Aretas until now. 

Before Terry asked further questions, you both looked up to see Armando heading back downstairs. 

Fuck. You thought. 

Fresh out of the shower, Aretas wore this tank top with loose pants, heading back to the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” Changing the subject, you leave this couch and watch Armando get a snack. 

“Can't sleep?” You laughed. 

“Isn't it obvious?” Aretas casted both eyes toward that ceiling and found one bowl, dumping popcorn. 

“Grouch.” Chiding Armando, you gathered more snacks to share with Terry as well. “What's wrong this time?”

“Nothing.” Aretas declined. 

“Hey, don't start that shit again. “She's just checking on you, all right?” As his deep voice returned, Terry defended you while correcting Armando. 

“Stay out of it because I wasn't even talking to you.” Aretas clipped right back. 

“Be grateful that she didn't throw us to the wolves now.” Richmond nearly sized up Aretas while talking about your home. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” 

“Stop taking charge.” Armando backed off and gestured around. 

“What are you talking about?” Terry squinted, puzzled. 

“You moved here and everybody thinks you're special, but I can't even spend five minutes alone with her.” Armando expressed himself. “Maybe we'd have a better relationship if you'd back off.” 

“Not my problem.” Terry lifted both hands, sitting beside you once more. 

“What do you want?” You crossed both arms and looked toward Armando. 

“Don't ask me that.” His voice noticed you even more as Armando took the popcorn and headed right back upstairs. 

“What?” Frustrated, you squinted near Terry by this point. 

“It's better for everybody if you talk to him. Good night.” Arching his brow, Richmond leaves you as well. 

______

When you finally planned to sleep in your own bedroom, someone knocked. 

You opened this door to see Armando standing in the hall.

“Hey. I'm sorry for irritating you…” Your voice trailed off when Aretas stepped closer. 

“I'm sorry.” His brown eyes locked your presence when Armando sniffled quietly. “I just…”

“Yeah?” You tried to listen because his voice still mattered. 

“Nothing changes what I did, but y'all still ganging up on me doesn't help, either.” Aretas expressed more feelings. “I might as well go back to prison.” 

“Maybe if you weren't so quick to hide from everyone, things would be different.” You offered another perspective. “I just wanna solve this case and go back to normal.”

“I know. It's not easy for me, but I'll try. Get some rest, okay?” Struggling this time, Armando stepped back and you could sleep without interruptions. 

******

By morning, everyone settled around the kitchen together when you finished cooking breakfast. 

“Pass the hot sauce, baby girl?” Terry slipped that nickname by you while looking for one condiment. 

“Here, T.” You didn't even correct him and exchanged the bottle, picking up silverware to eat again. 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and spiced eggs for his meal, moving on. 

Dorn and Kelly froze in unison here, surprised beyond words. 

“Espero que te quemes la lengua.” Using his native language of Spanish, Armando wanted Richmond's tongue to burn. 

“What was that?” Terry caught on. 

“Doesn't matter.” Aretas stood from the table and noticed Richmond once more. “Help us solve the case or leave.”

“Back up. Gettin’ tired of your attitude.” Of course Terry wouldn't fight, yet patience grew thin. 

“Guys…” Dorn wanted to settle this problem for  everyone, but Kelly stopped him. 

Terry sat back down and still warned Armando. “I thought you wanted another chance here.”

“Stop assuming shit. You have no idea what's going on with me.” Aretas defended himself again. 

Out of nowhere, your phone rings, breaking silence and moving tension elsewhere. 

Putting the call on speaker for everyone, you know better this time. 

“Hello, who is this?” You leveled this question for so many reasons. 

“Hola, Mami. Que tal?” One familiar chuckle reached your phone when Armando's old goon Zway Rodriguez picked up. 

“What did you do?!” After reaching his breaking point, Aretas snapped upon realization, held back by Terry and Dorn when hearing Zway's voice. 

“Just keep me out of prison and I'll explain everything. Otherwise…” Zway requested his own terms. 

“What?!” Armando's rage only worsened, but Terry and Dorn still wouldn't let go of Aretas. 

“Be careful, man. I'd hate for this special girl to be the next target.” Zway dropped that call, bringing everyone into this chaotic frenzy. 

******

“Are you saying that Zway killed this coffee shop manager?” As you stayed home, Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett gathered AMMO members near the department. 

“We'll find out soon enough.” Dorn tracked information to find puzzle pieces for the case. 

“Compromised again?” Mike questioned protocol once more. 

“No, but if we don't listen to Rodriguez, she'll be dead.” Dorn grounded the truth with your safety and planned to lock that case. 

“Be careful while you plan Zway's interrogation, all right?” Marcus and Mike also warned Captain Rita Secada. “We can't even put Armando in the same building.” 

“Fair enough. Go ahead and deal with Rodriguez yourselves.” Rita stepped out of the precinct. 

________

“Listen, be grateful. Armando would've kicked your ass, Zway.” Marcus Burnett paced back and forth while questioning Rodriguez. 

“No, Marcus. If it wasn't for us, Zway would be dead at the morgue tonight.” Mike folded both arms and stood in one corner. 

“Keep me out of prison.” Zway dared to speak this time. 

“First of all, don't fuck around. Did you kill the coffee shop manager or not?” Mike Lowrey squinted. 

“Yeah.” Zway dropped his bored response without showing emotions. 

“Why?” Mike prompted immediate eye contact, keeping composure. 

“It's all revenge.” Zway continued. “I even planted drugs y'all found at the coffee shop.”

“Revenge for what?” Mike questioned. 

“When Armando shot me near that helicopter four years ago, I fell into water, but survived.” Zway revealed. “Keep me away from prison unless you want problems.” 

Glancing toward one another, Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett left the interrogation room. 

_______

“It's official, y'all. Zway just confessed to everything.” Marcus exposed the truth. 

“Is it possible to keep him out of prison?” Dorn looked concerned. 

“No. We need a different plan.” Marcus shook his head. 

“We've got no other choice, then.” Lowrey darkened his voice. 

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Marcus worried. 

“Somebody needs to kill Zway.” Lowrey couldn't turn back this time. 

_______

While staying home as a precaution, you find Terry and Armando in the living room. 

“Hi.” You spoke up. 

“Hey.” Both protective men faced your direction as sympathy reached their eyes. 

“Thank you for looking out.” You've expressed so much more gratitude. 

The doorbell prompted all three of you to glance forward, but Terry checked your RING Camera first. 

“It's Lowrey and Burnett.” Terry pinpointed your friends. 

“Let them in, T.” You offered permission, but Armando stood up anyway, ready for the next plan. 

“Before we start talking about this shit, c'mere, Rook.” Lowrey opened both arms to hug you. 

And for the first time since handling Zway's call, your eyes began to well up. Even Marcus wouldn't pass jokes. 

“What's the plan?” Your kind voice lowered without hesitation. 

“Somebody needs to kill Zway, but Armando can't do it or he'll go right back to prison.” Mike revealed this truth. 

There's no other choice. You've realized the possible outcome. 

“All right, then.” Enough was enough. “Bring the squad together and back me up. Whatever happens, I'm not going down without a fight.”

______

By nightfall, members of the AMMO squad returned to your home and prepared this attack from different corners. 

“Watch the house, Terry.” You offered brief yet vital instructions. “That's all we need from you.” 

“Yes, Ma'am. Be careful.” Armed himself, Richmond focused as you rolled out with everyone and silently waited for more. 

******

“Have Armando take henchmen, Mike!” Marcus yelled out loud while steering another motorcycle and neon lights painted streets. "Don't let him catch Zway!” 

“This is a battlefield, Marcus!” Lowrey moved among blaring engines. “No more rules. I am not responsible for Armando tonight.” 

“What about his redemption, Mike?” Marcus still attempted to be logical. 

“If Rook dies, Armando's second chance won't even matter.” Lowrey gritted his teeth over your chance to live. “Let's go!” 

______

Zway Rodriguez punched speed without fail as racing motorcycles caught up. 

Glancing past his shoulder, Zway quickly realized that someone lifted their firearm while still directing the motorcycle. 

No! Only one person crossed missions through anger four years ago. 

Armando returned. 

“It's Aretas, move faster!” Zway attempted to warn other goons. 

While Zway prepared to dodge Armando, he didn't even notice that your motorcycle joined this fight. 

“Here's payback.” You pulled this trigger and immediately spiraled Zway's route, dashing to escape between shadows. 

“Zway's dead!” Armando turned near you without removing his helmet. 

“Follow back to my house! We gotta check on Terry.” You would return home as expected. 

******

No targets, only silence. 

Terry Richmond heightened awareness while keeping watch in your home. Even distant sounds located for the neighborhood matter at this point. 

When engines revved out loud to line up vehicles this evening, Terry knew that signal. 

The AMMO squad returned. 

“Open the door, T!” You hurried to run inside with everyone else. 

“C'mon!” Terry almost pulled the doorknob this time. 

Kelly and Dorn entered first, no longer hiding in that surveillance van. 

Mike and Marcus pulled through next as Rita stepped up before long. 

When you and Armando reached this house, pain nearly dampened Terry's face. 

Regardless of the plan, it's still a miracle that you're alive. 

Just when this group would settle with relief, lights shut down as the home turned pitch-black. 

“Stay armed and keep watch here! No friendly fire.” Terry warned you and the AMMO squad. 

Within seconds, glasses shattered from rear living room windows as bullets rattled, searching for carnage. 

“Look out!” You screamed, trying to defend yourself while every moment prompted chaos. 

Yet when lights returned for the living room, everyone else glanced around, realizing that Armando and Terry no longer battled here.

“Be careful while searching for them. We gotta move!” Lowrey stepped over countless bodies while instructing all of you. 

Where did y'all go?! Your thoughts rushed as panic heightened even more. 

______

“No corras!” Rasping Spanish once more, Aretas warned enemies not to run. Seconds later, vengeful bullets sparked through lethal fire. 

“I hear Armando's voice in the garage.” Kelly finally noticed echos. “Go, go, go!” 

Scoring the garage, you found absolute carnage here. Even Terry moved forward and disarmed other goons.

“Listen! Either deal with me or I'm throwing you to him. It's your choice.” Richmond still warned targets about Aretas. 

As bullets raced, fear struck combatants every single time. 

“Give me your weapons and leave.” Terry gritted without hesitation. 

While still fighting others, everything slowed down when this bullet pierced time. 

You fell back and toppled against the hard floor right now. 

“Dammit, she's hit. Armando!” Terry barked through shock. 

As blood spilled with each passing moment, you wince despite the guard of your own vest. 

Footsteps rushed to your aid as you still recognized Kelly and Dorn. 

“Call paramedics!” Dorn hurried. 

Rita, Mike and Marcus kept fighting elsewhere in the house, not realizing your injury yet. 

“T….” You struggled, grimacing without assistance. 

“We'll handle this, all right?” Terry still planned to help right now. “Keep your eyes open.” 

Soon enough, Footfalls dashed to reveal Armando's presence. 

“Move!” Slightly accented English pulled more feelings when Aretas shoved Richmond out of his way. “What the fuck happened?!

Entering the garage themselves, Mike, Marcus and Rita stood flabbergasted on sight. 

“Aw, shit!” Mike grilled everyone over your accident. “She's losing too much blood past the vest. Where's medical?!” 

“I already called for help!” Dorn shouted with an explanation. 

“Well, medics better hurry up and reach that bullet!” Marcus exposed his anger. “My niece is dying.” 

Just when you trembled near deadly pain, sirens wailed outside once more. 

******

While beeping sounded, fluorescent lights almost blinded your vision as you woke up in the hospital. 

“Hey, Rook.” Detective Mike Lowrey joined your bedside this morning. 

“H-Hi...” As you struggled talking, exhaustion replaced that cheerful voice. 

“Just take it easy.” Mike cautioned. When you sat up, different wires aided. 

“Terry and Armando?” You looked for Richmond and Aretas. 

“You got it. I'll get 'em right now.” Mike pointed between you and the door. 

_____

“She's awake, c'mon.” Crossing the lobby, Mike updated Terry and Armando as you wished.  

“Made it. How are you doing?” Before long, Terry knocked first and held flowers, showing this rare yet great smile. 

“Tired.” You attempted.

“Better than nothing. You're still here.” Terry joined the bedside chair and sat down. 

“What happened?” You couldn't help asking questions despite everything. 

“We barely reached the hospital and experts took out your bullet during surgery.” Richmond never lied. 

“Thank you.” Your pained voice expressed gratitude once more. 

“You're welcome.” Terry said. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“I can't stomach anything. Maybe later.” Even your throat seems uncomfortable. 

“Okay.” Richmond took notice. Let me know and we'll help out.” 

Knocks resumed and Armando stepped in, no longer wearing tactical gear. 

“Hey, sorry.” Aretas walked closer. “I got some water for you and the vending machine held up.”

“Thanks.” You tried. 

“We just found out that you'll be discharged soon.” Armando revealed. 

“How soon?” You questioned. 

“Tonight or tomorrow.” Armando nodded.

“Thank you.” It's a habit just to repeat that kind phrase. 

Even while you smiled through fatigue, your mood  brightened again. 

*****

Given permission to leave that hospital, you could finally return home, but wouldn't handle work until further notice. There's no other choice this time. 

Headlines soon revealed that the coffee shop became defunct. This establishment pulled too much drama following Zway's dark investigation. 

During your recovery, even Armando helped on a regular basis and only slept from his downtown apartment when working at the police station. 

Sooner than later, Mike Lowrey and Marcus  Burnett had planned another special cookout for the department. Friends still invited you today. 

Planning to leave with Armando, you both signaled the group chat first. 

“Where's Terry?” Moving near that driveway, you haven't heard from Richmond yet. 

“I don't know.” Armando finished packing this car as you joined the passenger seat. “He might've gone to the park early or something.”

Just before Aretas would drive, another vehicle pulled up. 

Richmond turned down the driver's seat window of this brand-new SUV.  

“What are y'all waiting for? Let's go!” Chuckling through joy, Terry guided your route toward the public park. 

This happy ending could shine at last. 

[quibbs126]

Okay so I went back to this page to try and attempt more head designs of Radion before I try any sort of proper design. The bottom two sketches are the new ones

Honestly, I’m still up in the air about how to design him

I know having an oplita kid be purple probably isn’t very original, but legit, I don’t know what other color to make him. He already looks a lot like Elita, and if not in the head, he’s got nearly the same alt as her so body wise they also look similar, so making him pink would make him basically look like her clone. And while part of me wanted to make him blue and silver originally, the problem there is that I noticed I want to make any Optimus fankids really blue for whatever reason. And Lux, the megop kid who’s supposed to also be in this same continuity, is blue and silver with either black or dark blue, so they’d have virtually the same color schemes if I went with that

I mean, I guess I could make him red? It’s close enough to pink and it’s another main color of Optimus, and hasn’t been used here with Lux. But I don’t know, I’m not sure I see the color on him; a bright, vibrant color like red doesn’t really suit what I’ve come up with for his personality. Maybe I’ll come around to it though

Also there’s two versions of his eye colors because realistically, he should have blue eyes, but I wanted to give him pink eyes too. I’m still leaning towards the latter, I just don’t know if I should, because where did he get it?

But on to the designs themselves, while the final colored is probably the one I like most, I cannot for the life of me figure out how to make these fankid head designs

I think the problem is that the main quartet have very distinct head designs. Which works as far as the movie’s concerned to make them all unique, but then when you try and combine them, it becomes really difficult to make them look good together and not just one or the other, at least for me

I think the only reasons I could get Overdrive to work eventually is because only one of his parents has an official design, and because Seekers have very distinct head designs

I will admit, Radion is probably doing better than say, Lux, because with Radion I have at least one design element I know I want, that being the large side circles with antennae, but other than that, I really don’t know what to do with his design to make him look good

It might also be that I have little planning go into making these designs; like I said, I have no ideas for Radion other than that one thing. But as someone who isn’t very good at that, I don’t know how to fix this issue

I’m realizing that this entire description was pretty much me complaining about the design process here. Like I’m getting somewhere with his design through this, but it’s not going as smoothly as I’d like. Also I don’t want to tell you all about his character here because this isn’t the full design, just where I’m at so far. But you know, might as well get these thoughts out here

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: why is designing Transformers fankids so goddamn hard?

Well I suppose while I’m here I can tell you some things about Radion. He’s really good at math, he’s not very fond of the special attention being “the first child of a Prime” brings him (which technically isn’t true bc Lux, but also her sparking happened when her sire was still Orion Pax, so it isn’t the same), has probably secretly purchased some speed upgrades from Overdrive, and can turn his circles 360 degrees, with his antennae direction often indicating his emotions. Also he’s most likely a mama’s boy, which means Elita here, even though role wise she’s his sire and Optimus is his carrier

[takeurexam]

dynasty || II

genre:

non idol au, time travel, romance, rivals to allies to friends to lovers, crown prince to emperor taehyun, reader gets appointed as an concubine

pairing(s):

taehyun x reader

(warning, this does not reflect the REAL idols personality, and no smut will be written to respect the idol, and i am not comfortable as well, and the taehyun in this ff is not the actual taehyun)

summary:

in which you, an excellent law student about to graduate collage suddenly gets dragged into the past, meeting the famous-fawned over emperor of the kang's dynansty. but you getting dragged into this mess was beyond a mystery, and it seems like you have something deep to discover. meddling with the past is a risky decision after all.

dynasty masterlist

2. Mountain

The Kang Dynasty was a family famous in history books- they maintain their reputation even when they're remains and only found on history books, museums, and people still fawn over them.

As a collage student, you would encounter this topic in history. Students fawn over them because of their 'good deeds' and 'glamouring' looks. Especially the emperor in this generation you're traveled into, Kang Ta...

"Who was he again? Gosh, I havent thought about history in a while." You get lost in thought as you clean the campsite of Soobin and Hobak as a sign of gratitude for saving you.

Its been officially a day since you've arrived here; you've built the pieces and it seems that you have time traveled for some absolute crazy reason.

"It was those masked people. Im so sure! I thought they were theives.." You sigh as you finish gathering the leaves on the ground and throw them in a pit.

"Somehow.. I still have this chopstick." You put it in your hair as you remembered the ladies from this dynasty wearing them on their hair. "I think it was that lady. Or she maybe predicted this and wished for my downfall because I looked stupid." You mumble to yourself as you grunt and sit down on a big rock waiting for something to happen.

Soobin and Hobak were cool honestly. Soobin was handsome but really introverted. He could just say one word for the day and go on. Hobak on the other side, is short compared to Soobin and very talkative, what a unique duo.

They went out to town because Soobin needed more herbal medicine for you because he thought you had memory loss or things that you couldnt understand what he was saying.

You wipe your hands and stand up to go back to your tent which was originally Hobak's that he was kind enough to share.

"Hey! Were back!" You hear Hobak shout before you could even reach your tent.

"Yo, something happen?" You ask.

"Nothing really crazy, but I saw the Crown Prince today! He looked handsome as hell but not as me. Anyways, I dont know why they're at Daedo, but it seemed really suspicious and at the same time important." Hobak rants on, and Soobin just nods his head.

"Cool. I cleaned a bit for you guys, and dont worry, I didnt displace anything." Soobin smiles at your work and places down the baskets he brought.

You all go inside the main big tent which is where the two of them eat, make ingredients and make medicine.

"What are you planning to do?" Soobin asks you.

"I dont know.. I still havent gained my memories, but the best thing to do right now is explore. The problem? Im broke." You knew that saying you time traveled is just pure stupidity because one, they dont know that, two, you'll be called crazy. So adjusting to Soobin's diagnosis would be for the best.

"You can work for us. I can give you money." Soobin happily drops out paper in the table and grins, "You'll be like an herb collector for me."

"Sure, that would be cool." You grin back and write his so called 'requirements' in the paper he placed down.

Morning comes, you hear the chickens attempt to wake you up for your first task, which is to travel to the mountains to find herbs Soobin needs.

"Wait. How do people find their way home though.." You thought as you prepared to go out. "It is what it is."

You walk over to the main tent and see Soobin sitting, drinking a cup of coffee. "Heres the list." He smiles.

"Good mood?"

"I like seeing people volenteer to help me."

"Cool."

You take the list and shove it down your pockets, "If you dont need anything else, then i'll be on my way." Fixing your shoes, you get ready to leave to the mountains.

"Goodluck." He smiles again.

The mountains were filled with leaves as it was autumn, and there were many trees compared to the present. It was truly refreshing to see a nice environment after a while.

"If I get killed by a bear, will I go back to my time?" You talk to yourself as you go on the mountains.

"Holy! Its this thing from the list!!" You look at the drawing and the plant and see alot of similarities, "Bingo." You pick up the plant and put it in your basket.

"Checked.." You put a check mark using charcoal that you randomly found in the ground.

"Next!" You hop on.

Soobin advised on how to get home, that to try and head to Daedo, which was at the South and Hobak would pick you up because he had errands there.

You knew directions enough to go, so it wasnt much of an problem.

"Ooh! Another one." You pick up another plant and mark it with the charcoal as you go on once again to the mountains.

You left the base at exactly morning, which for you was eight in the morning, and you had no issues on the way so far. Soobin's list is almost complete so you had no worries because you seemed lucky today.

"Check, check.. check. This is easy!" You giggle as you jump around the leaves.

"It dosent seem to bad to be in this dynasty. It feels good to have an escape from the suffocating gates of university and issues going around. It feels like life just became fresh again here." You sigh as you feel the wind swarm around with your thoughts.

"One last plant! And lucky for me, its over here." You crouch to the ground and pick up the plant and place it on your basket. "Wooho!"

But somehow, you couldn't shake off a weird feeling. Because everything was going so well; nothing has happened to you. And you felt like something right now is gonna go wrong.

........

"WHAT THE FUCKK!" You get trapped in a net, which seemed like a booby trap for animals and hunters to catch.

"I PREDICTED THIS. URHRHRHG." You groan and move around the net to try and make it give up because of your heavy ass.

You hear footsteps approach and you just start praying in your mind that they dont kill you and actually let you go and they're a kind soul and..

"Why are you here? This wasnt made for you." A tall man in a pony tail with his long hair and wearing black armor as he held a sword. He was hot as well.

"Whats good?" You smile at him awkwardly as you were in a position with tangled arms and legs.

"Who are you and what is your purpose?" He draws his sword. "Hey, hey! Im good- im innocent! Uh- im just looking for herbs!" You shout.

"See?" You shake your basket at him. He looks at you with a raised brow but dosent draw back his sword.

"So please, help?" You grin.

He dosent reply and cuts the rope with his sword which drops you to the ground "Ouch!" You fall ass flat.

"Thank you.. uh.."

"General Beomgyu of the Palace."

"Yeah! Thank you so much dear General Beomgyu!" You jump around in joy as you hug your basket.

"Its dangerous out here. Why are you collecting herbs?" He asks with his sword drawn back and crossed arms.

"It is? I never encountered any danger." You were lying. You saw booby traps in some areas, like alot. But decided to avoid them, but this trap you fell in was well hidden.

"...Okay. Who do you serve?"

"Uh... Soobin. Do you know him?"

"Oh. Its Soobin." He mumbles as he fixes his throat, letting the air engulf the two of you. He speaks after a while, "I have to get going."

You suddenly have an idea in mind, "Wait-" You stop him from walking, "Where are you heading to?"

He looks at you suspiciously but still answers, "Daedo." Your eyes brighten as you grin, "Can I come with you? Arent you concerned about the dangers lurking? Then a General like you! Can help me." You smirk as he looked genuinely suprised at your remark.

He thinks for a while, "Alright. Just dont be a bother."

"Wooho!" You shout with your fists thrown into the air as he just eyes you and proceeds to walk the direction to Daedo.

"Hey, do you serve the Crown Prince?" You ask as you both walk down the leaf filled ground. He looks at you for a short time and looks away.

"Yes, I do."

"Why are you here at Daedo?" You ask him. You remembered Hobak ranting about how the Crown Prince's prescence was both suspicious and seemingly important.

"Why are you asking?"

"Because im curious? Who lets the Crown Prince go along Daedo randomly?" You shrug as you two walk down a path.

He hesitates to answer, "We have business here in Daedo. You should be aware then that I cant share that information to you."

"Im aware, I just wanted to see if you would tell me or not."

"What?" He looks at you a little confused, "You're crazy."

You laugh at his comment, "Thanks."

You both become silent for the meanwhile as you observe your surroundings- you might need to know this place for future tasks or just incase you get lost.

"What do I even do after? I dont plan on working my whole life for Soobin. Well, that dosent seem so bad. I can explore Daedo then go practice fighting to look cool and build a base and-" Your thoughts get cut by Beomgyu, "We're here."

"Oh, theres my friend!" You notice Hobak near a corner. "Well, General Beomgyu, I wont forget you!" You wave goodbye as you run to Hobak.

"I wont forget you too." He mumbles under his breath before heading to his designated place.

<previous chapter

>next chapter

hi everyone!! heres the 2nd chapter <3 hope you enjoyed!

for kdrama lovers, if ya know empress ki, you know who im referencing beomgyu to (general taltal) i love him teehe

welcome beomgyu ‼️