#i appreciate her kindness despite all she's going through tho.

[xylatox]

The Slow Surrender 😞😞 I am so excited it's absolutely unreal

Before I even began reading the note?? may this story tear you apart, and somehow, when it’s over, stitch you back together piece by piece. Raya I will sob and throw up.

I'm already tearing up at the wedding scene, like, Raya, you were able to captivate the emotions so well that I in return too felt sad and absolutely anxious for what is to come; I felt so soft seeing Soobin there tho :((( like my heart I will start crying.

I love that we see how close Soobin and reader are during the reception, they are the cutest siblings your honor:(

And then there’s you. The second child. Since young, you were conditioned, moulded—not to lead, not to build, but to belong to someone else. To be a wife. One whose marriage would serve a purpose, a bargaining chip in a deal that you have no voice to protest. – I'm so close to full on sobbing so early in the fic because I can't even imagine a life where you're just moulded entirely to become someone's wife and it hurts me to my core to even imagine these circumstances. Worst yet, that the love seems so one-sided break me like :(( Raya girl you're making me cry and to make matters worse their first interaction as kids has even more tears forming in my eyes :(

I absolutely feel for reader, she's so sweet and honestly just too kind, the fact that she made soup for Gyu and got him medicine despite his girlfriend not caring shows how different they are and how much more reader cares for him. Reader definitely seems to wear her heart on her sleeve and it makes me so sad thinking that such a sweet person isn't guarding herself.

I absolutely dislike Ji-won taking the credit, like I know Gyu wouldn't have known it was reader anyways since she wouldn't leave a note but it still makes me so angry that Ji-won tries to portray this super caring girlfriend when she doesn't care :( And seeing reader go lengths for those 4 years in University for him just increases the pain I feel.

It's also crazy to me that despite the on and off relationship Gyu had with Ji-won they were still together even after they graduated and it justakes me so angry. I will say arranged marriages always suck but this one hurts even more, that fact that reader had to do all the wedding things on her own, when you're meant to enjoy it with your future spouse just shows the severity of the situation.

Beomgyu, the boy who returned you safely to your brother that night, the one who left a permanent mark so indelible it stayed for years. The same mark that now hurts you, refusing to fade no matter how many years passed. — Raya, this is just plain cruel, like girl, how much more are you going to break my already broken heart.

Seeing their marriage life, I am glad Beomgyu was not cruel to her but I do agree that the indifference hurts on another level. “Because if being an invisible wife isn’t enough, your children will see you.” — oh my god Raya I feel sick.

Beomgyu's Perspective!! I am so excited oh my god😞😞 we are finally about to get his thoughts when this wretched woman interrupts again. My empathic ass feels bad for her now omg😞😞 like I genuinely want to hate her fully, but I can't help and feel a bit bad for her.

THE KISS (in the most gut wrenching pain) — I am absolutely going through it right now. The way his touch made you feel seen. And when morning came, like always, he would retreat—pulling away, storms behind his eye, leaving you to wrestle with the hollow ache in your chest. — my chest is also hollow rn what the fuck Raya, tears are falling, I am not okay😭

Not me crying, I wanna protect reader so bad, like she let's Gyu have so much of her :(( RAYA WHAT THE FCUKNSJSJS?¿?!!!! I didn't even realize it was a dream Raya what the fuck, that transition was amazing??¿? also it was her birthday :((((((( my poor baby I'm in so much tears. I love and appreciate Ryujin for being the much needed friend oh my god.

I managed to frown more than I possibly could, like, what do you mean Gyu talked about Ji-won days after they got married, on their honeymoon and in front of his family???? Like I get it you didn't want to marry her, but at least give her so much more respect than that. Reader is absolutely amazing to just take all of that. I love that she was able to at least stand up for herself at least a little bit

Soobin is such a sweet older brother, like him not getting married because it feels like a betrayal to pursue his own happiness when reader has to endure her pain?? Raya you phrased that so beautifully. I also love how Yeonjun is here too to comfort reader :(( Ji-won is pretty insane to speak to reader and habe the audacity to say that she and Gyu had unfinished business, that's actually...wow.

What.The.Fuck. Like I know an accident was coming but I genuinely did not expect that Raya, are you trying to kill me😞 and to add to my pain Yeonjun is so in love with her :( Between the accident and losing the baby, I am beyond repair, my heart is in a million pieces

Sunghoon being best boy and letting Beomgyu know it was reader all along looking out for him :((( Thus, all this time he really loved her :((( despite thinking it was Ji-won. I take back any empathy I had for Ji-won, actually.

Burying a child isn't easy; to others its a sibling they never got to know fully, but it never gets easy. It only becomes manageable overtime. The scene with reader and Soobin unexpectedly hits home a bit harder than I wanted or anticipated and makes me think back to that time only to be reminded of a pain that is honestly indescribable. Raya, I genuinely appreciate you also showing this side because it isn't seen often, but it is one of the biggest parts when losing a child/someone who means the world to you.

It hurts to see reader hasn't seen Gyu in 7 months but it is expected considering everything she went through. At this point i am crying, my heart breaks to see how everything unravels, from the divorce papers, to Gyu begging her not to leave and finally where we also see that Gyu also mourned the loss of this child. I couldn't put my feelings into words as I read the last 2 sections this, not just because everything as amazing but also because my heart and tears wouldn't allow me to.

As this is the end, I am reminded of the note Raya had at the start of the fic; this story was able to tear me apart but was also able to stitch me back together. I am overall at a lost for words. Raya, you always amaze me with your writing and I always feel blessed than I'm able to read your work. Again, this was amazing and I have felt such a pain I haven't felt in a long time. I will always enjoy your work♡

THE SLOW SURRENDER

Pairing: chaebol husband choi beomgyu x wife chaebol fem!reader

summary: The fear that you’re losing something you never truly had. Your own ring, now too heavy in your palm. A ring that should have meant forever.

Your deepest fear. Your husband.

warnings: reader discretion is advised. infidelity, arranged marriage, slow-burn, angst, toxic dynamics, emotional attachment, miscarriage!, misunderstandings, lovelorn, alcohol!consumption, guilt, repentance, rectification, accident, DUI(pls don't), anxiety!, panic-attack, implication of postpartum!depression, used different idols as ocs. if any of the warnings above might be triggering for you, please step back. let me know if I missed anything.

smut-warnings: MDNI, dubcon, explicit!descriptions, different smut-scenes. guilt-ridden!smut,beomgyu begging and crying while doing"it".

wc: 24k — playlist here.

notes: may this story tear you apart, and somehow, when it’s over, stitch you back together piece by piece.

a big thank you to @killa-1009 for beta reading. ilysm.

How is it that your own wedding makes you want to flee?

"To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

His voice is strangely distant—the words belong to someone else, rehearsed and repeated.

The ring slips onto your finger, its cold touch startling against your skin. You can’t tell if it’s the chill of the metal that makes you shiver—or the way his voice carries an indifference that seems to sit deep in your chest, pulling your breath with it.

The wedding dress—tailored from the finest silk, adorned with labyrinthine details—feels like something borrowed. Isn’t this supposed to be every girl’s dream? The happiest day of your life? The moment where everything begins—the start of your own family, your own story?

None of it feels like it. Not when he hasn’t said a single word to you since you arrived. It plagues your mind. And all you want to do is kick off the heels that bite into your feet, rip off the tiara that feels like a crown of lead, and run.

You let out a shaky exhale, the breath trembling in your chest when the ring settles on your finger. Your hands slip from his grasp, falling limply to your sides. The vows are done, the words spoken, but all you feel is an overwhelming urge to escape.

Your head turns, seeking the one person who feels safe. Your unsteady gaze finds Soobin, his worried eyes already fixed on you. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, the kind only he would know how to give. All you want is to fall apart—to let the tears come, to crumble into the silent comfort of his eyes, whispering it’s okay.

The pastor’s voice pulls you back, and your soon-to-be husband cups your face with a tenderness that feels reluctance, almost calculated. Hands warm but the eyes that meet yours, cold.

He leans in, and you close your eyes. His lips brush yours, soft, landing just shy of your bottom lip.

“And now, I pronounce you husband and wife,” the pastor declares, the words echoing hollowly in your ears.

Everyone claps.

It's official.

He is now your husband.

"Can you at least smile?" your mother’s sharp voice cuts, gaze fixed on you with her usual expectation. Her lips press together in disapproval. "I don’t want you embarrassing us, honey," she adds, eyes narrowing.

You force a small, strained smile as another guest offers their congratulations. The words feel hollow, and meaningless.

"Mother." Soobin’s voice interrupts, his equally sharp gaze lands on her, and without waiting for her permission, he steps closer, hand brushing your elbow. "We have friends over there. I’ll take Y/N for a bit."

Your mother opens her mouth, distaste printed on her face. "I could go with her—"

"It’s just our friends, Mother," Soobin interjects, his words clipped but polite enough to stop her in her tracks. "Nothing that requires your attention. Besides, I believe Miss Park was trying to get your attention earlier."

Before she can argue further, Soobin’s hand slips into yours, and he gently tugs you away. The grip is reassuring, steady—something to anchor you in this mess.

The crowd seems endless. More congratulations, more empty smiles. Your eyes wander, scanning the room, searching for the one person who should be at your side. But he isn’t there. He isn't… here.

Your husband is nowhere to be found. He vanished as soon as the ceremony ended.

Soobin doesn’t say anything as he leads you into a quiet, empty room. Once inside, he shuts the door firmly behind you, sealing out the noise of the party.

The second the door clicks, his hands are on your face, cradling you like you might break. And you do.

"Soobin," you choke out, your voice trembling. Hot tears stream down your face, and he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"Shh," he murmurs, his voice shaky, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. "It’s okay. Let it out."

The tears come in waves, carrying with them all the weight you’ve been holding in—every forced smile, every empty thank yous, every aching reminder of your husband. That today isn’t what it should be.

"It hurts me," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "It hurts me that my dearest, sister had to go through with this." His words tremble, just like his hands that hold you tightly.

You can’t bring yourself to reply. Instead, you cling to him, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his jacket—making his heart clench. "Where the fuck is he anyway?" his voice betrays his frustration.

"I don’t—I don’t know," you whisper through your sobs. "How am I supposed to do this, Soobin? He wouldn’t even look at me." And beneath it all, the deeper truth haunts you. It isn’t just his absence or his coldness that hurts.

It’s the undeniable, unspoken reality that settles into your bones and refuses to leave: Choi Beomgyu doesn’t love you—not the way you love him.

The echoes of your wedding vows dance in your ears. For better or worse, you hear. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health.

Until death do us part.

Three families—known as the Choi Enterprises—dominate the landscape of your country.

Names synonymous with power, wealth, and control. Together, they form an empire that touches nearly every facet of life, businesses towering over the economy like unshakable pillars.

Untouchable.

The first family commands the skies. They own the nation’s largest airline, a fleet that spans lands, with Choi Yeonjun, the celebrated heir, poised to inherit it all.

The second family shapes the skyline with their sprawling malls, and colossal structures that symbolize luxury and excess. Choi Beomgyu, their only son, is the face of it.

And then there’s your family, the architects of indulgence. You own the most prestigious hotels in the country, five-star havens that host the rich, the famous, and the powerful. Your brother, Choi Soobin—the prodigy, the golden child who has been groomed for this role his entire life.

And then there’s you. The second child. Since young, you were conditioned, moulded—not to lead, not to build, but to belong to someone else. To be a wife. One whose marriage would serve a purpose, a bargaining chip in a deal that you have no voice to protest.

Every day since you came of age felt like walking on thin ice, never knowing when it would crack beneath you. You lived with the constant dread that your father could announce your engagement at any last moment. If you were lucky, perhaps it would be someone whose face you recognized, or someone whose name didn’t sound foreign on your lips.

The three families have stood side by side for decades, their ties intertwined by history and convenience. With the heirs of each family so close in age, it was inevitable that you all ended up in the same place: a ridiculously expensive university your families could buy their way into.

It was no surprise that you had known Choi Beomgyu since you were children. And that you've loved him since.

Though you could never quite pinpoint when it began.

Your nine-year-old eyes scanned the room, overwhelmed by the sea of adults towering over you. Too many big, tall people, too many unfamiliar faces. It was the first time your dad had brought you along, always choosing your older brother instead. Never you.

“Would you like something to eat, Y/N?” your nanny asked. You shook your head, distracted. You were trying to find your brother, the one you’d begged to follow today, only to lose him. You had thought this place would be exciting, but now, you would have preferred serving tea to your dolls.

This place wasn’t fun at all.

When your nanny got busy with a conversation, you seized the chance to slip away. You weaved through the crowd, ducking under tables when the adults became too dense. You spotted Soobin ahead, standing with his friend—Yeonja? No, Yeonjun. The one who teased you mercilessly whenever he visited your house. They were too far away.

Giggling with excitement, you ran towards them, eager to finally reach your brother. But your foot caught on the edge of a rug, and you fell hard. “Ow.” You whimpered, face smacking the floor. A sharp, stinging pain in your mouth made your eyes well up. You wiped at your lips and froze when your fingers brushed against something small and hard.

Your front tooth had come out. “No. Soobin, Daddy!” you wailed, embarrassment creeping in as people started to stare. You were about to shout again when a boy appeared, no taller than you, holding out a handkerchief.

“Use this,” he said.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I said I don’t want it.”

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Do you want everyone to think you’re ugly?” His words made you pause, his brown eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something else—something protective. The way he stood, it was as if he was shielding you from the judgmental eyes around you. “If you keep crying like that, everyone will think you are.”

The bluntness startled you, and it worked. Your mommy doesn't like it whenever you're crying anyway. She says it's unsightly. You grabbed the handkerchief, sniffling as you dabbed at your mouth. He watched you stand wobbly, one brow raised in quiet observation.

“Soobin?” he asked, recognizing your brother’s name.

You nodded, surprised that he knew.

He nodded back, taking your pinkie in his small hand and leading you across the yard, toward your brother safely.

That day was the day you first met your husband.

"Hey, have you heard? Choi Beomgyu and Park Ji-won broke up for the fourth time this semester," Jake, one of your batchmates, announces with a grin, his voice cutting through the chatter of your little group. The names make you freeze mid-conversation. "It’s hilarious, bro. Ji-won was literally stomping her feet like a kid."

"You little scandalmonger," Ryu-jin quips from beside you, rolling her eyes. "Why are you so invested in them? They’re a batch ahead of us. We don’t even cross paths with them."

You won’t encounter Choi Beomgyu often. The last time you had a proper, civil conversation—one forced by your parents—was when you were fifteen, and even then, your brother had been there too. That was five years ago.

During your first year, Choi Beomgyu was in the second. He got a girlfriend, Park Ji-won, the queen bee of their batch. Beomgyu was already famous, and their relationship quickly gained a reputation of its own, known for its ups and downs, the drama playing out like a spectacle for everyone to watch.

“Uh, h-hi, Y/N.” A boy stammers nervously in front of you. You look up, surprised to see him holding out a small box of chocolates. “I… I made these for you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you reach out to take it. “Thank you, Hanbin.”

The way his name rolls so easily off your tongue catches him off guard. His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep shade of red. He stammers out something that might be “you’re welcome” before ducking his head in a quick bow and practically fleeing the scene.

As he disappears into the crowd, Ryu-jin lets out a low whistle, her grin mischievous. “Oh-ho, my ever-charming and impossibly kind Y/N,” she teases, pinching your cheek in a way that makes you laugh and bat her hand away.

You hold the box of chocolates out to her, and without missing a beat, she takes it with a delighted, “Don’t mind if I do!”

“Why do you always know everyone’s names?” Jake asks, leaning over to snag a piece of chocolate before Ryu-jin can stop him. He pops it into his mouth, then gives you a mock incredulous look. “There are way too many people trying to win you over. If I were you, I wouldn’t even bother keeping track.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t really try to memorize their names, Jake,” you explain, your voice softening. “But when someone puts themselves out there like that—when they go out of their way to do something kind for me—even if I don’t feel the same, the least I can do is acknowledge it. Knowing their name… it’s just part of respecting the effort they made.”

Jake leans back, arms crossed, pretending to look unimpressed. “You’re way too nice for your own good, you know that?”

The rest of the conversation became a blur. The details didn’t matter—they never really did. Choi Beomgyu had gotten back together with her again. That’s how it always went, didn’t it? Still, your mind dawdled on him, as it often did, bonded to a memory from so long ago: the boy with sceptic eyes and a hand who had guided you safely to your brother.

You couldn’t explain it fully, this quiet pull you felt toward him.

Maybe it was the way he kept to himself at gatherings, speaking only when necessary. His words always carried a weight your mother would later describe as "intelligent," her tone laced with rare approval. It could’ve been his eyes, dark and warm, matching the soft chaos of his hair. Or perhaps it was his low voice, that left a faint shiver dancing along your spine without warning.

Life had always been laid out for you, each piece polished and placed neatly on a silver platter. Nothing ever seemed truly exciting, not when you could have anything you wanted with minimal effort. You’d never been particularly interested in dating, either. Why chase something when the pursuit itself felt dull?

Choi Beomgyu was… different. He wasn’t even someone you could simply talk to. Maybe that’s why he fascinated you so much.

He's impossible to ignore.

"He's sick again… ugh."

The words grated on your nerves, cutting through the hallway like nails on a chalkboard. You were at your locker, minding your own business, stacking books into your bag. Ji-won’s loud voice, drew the attention of everyone within earshot.

You were ready to walk away from the nauseating cheap fog of their perfume, when her next words stopped you cold.

"Beomgyu's sick," she continued, tossing her hair back like it was some grand inconvenience to her. "We went shopping yesterday, and he lent me his umbrella when it rained. Now he's sick. Honestly, such an idiot move."

How could she talk about him like that? Here, in front of all these people, where anyone could hear?

"And I told him not to play basketball today," Ji-won added with a careless shrug. "I mean, it's not like some game is more important than my plans."

Some game? The basketball match wasn’t just some game—it was one of the biggest events of the year, something their team had poured weeks of practice into. And she expected him to ditch it for her whims?

The sharp clang of your locker shutting ripped through the air, louder than you intended when you closed it. The hallway fell silent. Ji-won flinched, startled by the sound, then turned, ready to snap at whoever dared interrupt her. But when her eyes met yours, the words died in her throat.

Your stare pinned her in place, unwavering. The entire hallway seemed to hold its breath, watching, waiting. Everyone knew better than to cross you—Choi trinity’s princess.

After a few long seconds, you broke eye contact, turned on your heel and walked away, each step of your Valentino sandals echoing with you.

As much as you wanted to speak, as much as the words burned at the back of your throat, you couldn’t. Because no matter how much Ji-won infuriated you, no matter how carelessly she spoke about him, this wasn’t your battle to fight.

You had no right to.

Beomgyu wasn’t yours to defend.

You body moved without thinking, pulling your phone out to call your driver. Medicine. Ingredients for a recovery soup. You listed everything quickly, your voice brisk to mask the slight shake in it.

Cooking had always been something you loved. There was a comfort in its simplicity—a recipe was just steps to follow, a methodical course that brought things to life. You liked how it could make someone happy, how it could bring warmth, even when words couldn’t.

When the ingredients arrived, you made your way to the university’s cooking room. It was meant for culinary students, but a single request to the club president had granted you access.

You tied your hair back, rolled up your sleeves and got to work. The familiar motions of chopping, stirring, and seasoning steadied you. The savoury aroma filled the room, spilling over into your senses. When the soup was done, you ladled it into a glass container, the warmth radiating through your hands. Perfect for the chilly wind outside.

It's no surprise that he got sick.

You packed it carefully, along with the medicine, into a small bag, and made your way toward his classroom. Sunghoon had told you where Beomgyu’s seat was, promising to keep it quiet. No one could know about this.

Not even Beomgyu himself.

The classroom was empty when you arrived, just as you’d hoped. Rows of desks stretched before you, soaked in the soft, dim light of late afternoon. Your steps faltered when you unexpectedly spotted him. You were about to turn around when you noticed he was asleep.

There he was, slumped over his desk, his head resting on folded arms. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, his face flushed with fever.

You swallowed hard, the sight tugging at something deep inside you. His eyelashes, dark and delicate, brushed against his cheeks, and for a moment, he looked so unguarded, so unlike the version of him you were used to seeing.

Slowly, you approached, placing the bag on the desk beside him with the utmost care, as if any sound might disturb him. But as much as you tried to stay quiet, the pounding of your heart seemed impossibly loud in the silence.

You stood there longer than you should have, your gaze lingering on the soft lines of his face. His fever-reddened cheeks, his slightly parted lips—he looked so vulnerable, so human in a way that made your chest ache.

Your breath caught as you turned to leave. It was hard to breathe in this room, hard to ignore the charm he had on you, even now. With one last glance at his sleeping form, you turned and walked out.

It felt like you were leaving your heart with him.

Beomgyu stirs awake, his body aching and cold, as if the chill had seeped into his skin. His head feels heavy, but a faint warmth near him pulls him in. He blinks sluggishly, there's—a container of soup resting on his desk. Soup?

Confused but drawn to it, he sits up slowly, the movement making his head spin. His fingers tremble slightly as he uncaps the container, and the smell that greets him is like a hug he didn’t know he needed. His stomach rumbles in response.

His gaze drops to the items beside it: medicine, utensils, carefully placed. Whoever left this thought of everything.

He picks up the spoon, dipping it into the golden broth. Bringing it to his lips, he tastes it. His eyes widen, a soft sound escaping him—surprised. It’s incredible.

It reminds him of his mother’s cooking, back when she still had time to make him meals. A strange fullness settles in his chest as he takes another spoonful, the warmth spreading, chasing away the numbness. He can’t stop eating—it’s too good.

“Babe?”

The sound of Ji-won’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up as she walks in, holding two water bottles. Her eyes land on the container in his hands, her expression flickering with something unreadable.

“Oh,” she says casually, stepping closer.

Beomgyu smiles, his lips curving softly, his voice lighter than it’s been all day. “Did you make this?” he asks, hope threading through his tone. “It’s amazing. Seriously, it’s… it’s so good. Fucking delicious.”

Ji-won blinks, startled by his enthusiasm. He was grumpy and on edge all day because of his fever. Who left this? she wonders, panic flickering beneath her composed exterior, her gaze darts to the container again, then back to Beomgyu, who’s looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, yeah—yeah!” she blurts, forcing a bright smile. “Of course, I made it.”

Beomgyu tilts his head, surprised. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Anything for my boyfriend,” Ji-won replies, stepping closer as she places the water bottles on his desk. Her smile feels tight, but she pushes through. “That’s how much I love you.”

He chuckles softly, eating a spoonful again. “Well, I love it. Thank you for this. It made me feel so much better.”

That wasn’t the last time.

You told yourself it would be. Swore it, even. No more going out of your way for him. No more small, secret gestures. But every time you thought it was over, you found yourself pulled back in, like some invisible thread tying you to him.

It started with the soup. The day after you left it, you saw him. His face, pale and tired the day before, was flushed with warmth again, life returning to his features. Sunghoon mentioned, almost offhandedly, how Beomgyu wouldn’t stop bragging about the meal, how he raved about it like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

And something about that stuck with you.

From then on, it became quite a bad habit. Throughout college, whenever you heard he was sick, you found yourself leaving small comforts behind. A bottle of tea on his desk, sweets slipped into his lockers during a lecture. And it didn’t stop there.

One time, Beomgyu forgot something important—a book, a charger, you don’t even remember now. You lent yours to Sunghoon, pretending you didn’t care, pretending it wasn’t just another way to help Beomgyu without him knowing.

Because you didn't want anything back.

When rumors spread about him sneaking around with his girlfriend, you stepped in before it escalated. His father will be angry about it, so you talked to that person who caught him, not for his sake but for your own, because the thought of his world unraveling in front of him was something you couldn’t bear to witness.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It wasn’t for him. It couldn’t be.

It was for you.

The way your eyes scanned every room at social gatherings, always searching for his familiar face in the crowd. The way you couldn’t relax until you caught sight of him or the way your heart jumped whenever you spotted him, even if he didn’t notice you.

It was an addiction. One you couldn’t seem to break, no matter how many times you promised yourself you’d let go.

Were you in love with him for those four years? Or was it more than that?

"As you already know, this is Y/N, son," Beomgyu's mother announces, her perfectly manicured hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Beomgyu’s gaze meets yours. His hair is longer now, sitting at the edges of his sharp jawline, almost to his shoulders—much different to how you remember him last, on his graduation day. A whole year has passed since then. And you've graduated now too.

His suit—a dark blue so deep it could pass for black—fits him perfectly, exuding quiet sophistication. In contrast, your white Balmain dress feels almost too bright, too bold, clinging to you in a way that leaves no room for subtlety. You feel exposed under his probing eyes.

This morning, your mother had insisted—no, demanded—that you wear an elegant dress. You hadn’t understood why, but now the reason stands clear.

Beside you, your brother Soobin sits rigid, yet observing. He’s always been offensive, and tonight is no exception.

The two Choi family heads are deep in conversation, their voices low but purposeful, like they’re planning something big. It’s just the two families here tonight, seated at an impossibly long table in an equally expensive restaurant. The grandeur of the setting only amplifies it—the entire floor of this lavish place reserved just for this dinner, the emptiness around you making it feel more like a stage than a private meal.

“Your marriage will take place at the end of the year,” Beomgyu’s father declares. The words snap you out of your daze, and your head jerks toward him in shock. A soft gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“What?” Beomgyu’s voice is sharp. His jaw tightens when he leans forward, composure beginning to crack. “You made me end things with Ji-won last week, and now you’re telling me I’m engaged?” He practically spits the words, hands curl into fists on the table. “To someone I don’t even know?”

Ji-won. You flinch involuntarily, hands dropping to your lap. You start picking at your nailbeds. The air feels thick—too thick to breathe.

“Who is that?” Beomgyu’s father demands, his tone filled with disdain. “I told you not to mention that whore again.” His words are venomous, and you barely have time to register the insult before the sound of Beomgyu’s chair scraping against the polished floor reverberates through the room.

Everyone flinches as he rises, his movements full of suppressed fury. Your heart pounds. He stands there seething, glaring at his father, everyone staring, daring for him to do something before he turns on his heel.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to hold yourself together. The sting in your chest is undeniable. Disappointment wells up, as Beomgyu's actions fill the silence you can’t bear to break, your gaze fixed anywhere but the head table. Soobin’s hand suddenly moves into your line of sight, prying yours apart gently—stopping you from further tormenting your hands. His fingers curl around yours, tight.

Beomgyu's retreating footsteps echo, each one louder than the last, leaving a charged silence in their wake.

The next time you see him is on your wedding day.

You didn’t think it would happen like this. You truly didn’t. You’d clung to the faint hope that he’d at least show up before the ceremony��just once. You went to the fittings alone, picked out the rings by yourself, and stood in bakeries surrounded by couples, as you chose the cake flavour on your own. A conversation, even a brief one, might have eased the unease that had settled in your chest like a stone.

Maybe, when the time comes, you’ll work up the courage to ask him if he can at least try to be casual with you.

But every assurance came from his parents—empty promises that fell on ears too tired to process anymore. Your parents clung to those words, desperate for this union. A necessary marriage, they said. A solution.

None of it reassured you. How could it, when the groom himself was nowhere to be found? You never saw him. It was as though you were preparing to marry a ghost.

When he finally sees you, it’s as you walk down the aisle, dressed in a gown that feels heavier than it should. His gaze lands on you, a one-second glance that’s gone before you can even register it. He doesn’t look at you again. Not during the vows, not during the ceremony, not even as you both stand side by side, bound by words you barely believe.

And now, instead of his arms around you, you find yourself sobbing into your brother’s shoulder. Soobin holds you tightly. The irony was funny—it was Soobin, the whole reason to why Beomgyu was introduced to you all those years ago.

Beomgyu, the boy who returned you safely to your brother that night, the one who left a permanent mark so indelible it stayed for years. The same mark that now hurts you, refusing to fade no matter how many years passed.

It's cruel.

Happy 26th birthday baby girl! xoxo

You smiled faintly at Ryujin's text as you stirred the pancake batter you'd made from scratch. The comforting smell of vanilla and butter filled the kitchen—your kitchen.

As much as you endured your parents' endless whims, you had to admit, you loved the simplicity of domesticity. There was something grounding about it. It made you feel useful, capable—like you could create something perfect, even in a life that often felt far from it.

"Y/N." The sound of your name broke your focus. You looked up, catching Beomgyu standing at the doorway. He was already dressed in his usual impeccably tailored suit, his fingers fiddling with the knot of his tie. "I'm heading to the office early today,"

"Again?" Your voice was softer than you'd intended. "At least have breakfast before you go. I can finish this quickly."

"Thank you," he dismissed, gaze shifting away. Avoiding yours. Reminding you the line that's stretched between you cannot ever cross. "But I'll eat at the office. I don't want to be late. I might be back for dinner later. Maybe."

He adjusted his tie one last time, nodded in your direction, and walked out without another word. The soft click of it closing behind him felt louder than it should have.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. It was fine. You were used to this. Not because he left early again, but because it was an important day for you. A day you’d spend, once again, without him. Another day spent in the quiet of this too-big penthouse, with no one but yourself for company.

Two years into your marriage, you had learned to temper your expectations. Love was never meant to be part of the deal, and you had told yourself, over and over, that you didn’t need it. But no amount of reason could stop your heart from aching, from yearning—for Beomgyu to see you. Not as a piece of some agreement or a cog in the machinery of alliances, but as a person. As you.

Maybe even as a friend.

He wasn’t unkind. Not once had he raised his voice or shown you disrespect. But in some ways, his indifference stung more. He was here, yet not here—like a shadow that lived in the same space but never touched yours.

And sometimes, you wished that he would be mean to you, he would shout at you or he would hurt you—at least then, there would be something to feel. You hate that you gave him power over yourself.

You told your mother about it—you never saw your parents love each other, not in a way that felt real, not in front of you. She offered one thing that made sense to you.

Someday, you'll have children, and your child will give you a new purpose. You wanted to push back, to argue, but the next words stopped you cold—“Because if being an invisible wife isn’t enough, your children will see you.” You didn’t want to bring a child into this—into a life painted in shades of grey. An innocent child shouldn’t have to bear it. A child born not out of love? The thought made your chest tighten.

And yet, in the darkest, most desperate corners of your mind, another voice whispered something wicked. A voice that insisted maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You sighed, finding the courage to pick up the spoon to eat, imagining a child sitting across from you, soft brown eyes mirroring his.

Alone, but somehow, it felt a little less lonely.

"Boss, there's a party later. It's Mr. Yoon's farewell dinner."

Beomgyu glanced up from his laptop, his secretary’s voice pulling him from the post-meeting haze. Mr. Yoon—one of his father’s most loyal employees, someone who had been with the company for years. Letting this occasion go unnoticed wasn’t an option, not for someone like him.

Later that evening, Beomgyu arrived at the resto-bar, the space already alive with the hum of laughter and conversation. As soon as he stepped inside, heads turned. Employees greeted him with a mix of respect and warmth, but his smile, though polite, didn’t reach his eyes. It was business, like always. When someone announced that the night’s tab was on him, a wave of cheers erupted, but Beomgyu barely reacted. He offered only a nod before grabbing a beer and retreating into his thoughts. Are you asleep—

"Omg, Beomgyu?"

The familiar voice jolted him. He turned his head sharply, and there she was—Ji-won. Her platinum blonde bleached hair gleamed under the bar lights, her lips curved into a playful smile. She looked almost the same, except more polished. She hadn’t changed much, down to the way her manicured fingers grazed her cheek as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

"It's you! I haven't seen you in what, two years? Almost?" she said, her tone bright, her lashes fluttering in the way she knew he once liked.

"Yeah," Beomgyu replied curtly, his voice neutral. "Nice to see you here." He grabbed his beer and took a long sip. Her laugh rang out, light and infectious, the same laugh that used to feel like heaven to him. She knew exactly what to do, exactly how to pull him in.

Beomgyu raised his beer and took a long sip again, letting the alcohol burn its way down. He probably should go now. Her friends surrounded them, teasing and nudging, playful comments flying back and forth. He stayed composed, answering in clipped sentences, trying to keep his distance. He just needs to find the time to excuse himself.

But at some point, her friends drifted away, leaving her behind—drunk and alone, leaning heavily against the table. Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. He could have left her there. Maybe he should have. But instead, he found himself walking over.

"Come on," he said quietly, offering his hand. "Let me take you home."

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy but soft, and smiled. It was a smile that used to mean so much more.

Her warm hands envelop his.

The drive to her address was heavy with silence. Ji-won kept glancing at him, her eyes longing, but Beomgyu stayed focused on the road. Her address glowed faintly from his phone’s GPS. When they arrived, he got out, rounding the car to help her. She wobbled slightly, her drunken state evident, but he steadied her without a word and walked her to her door. She didn’t let go of his arm.

As they reached her doorstep, she turned to him, her voice trembling, raw. “Did you forget all about me already?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly. “Because… because I haven’t. It's still you, Beomgyu. I still love you.”

The words stopped him cold. He looked at her then—really looked at her. The faint blush on her cheeks, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders, and that familiar scent of her perfume. Memories flashed. The way she’d cried when he said goodbye. The way she’d begged him to stay, her arms wrapped around him like she could keep him forever. He remembered the way he had talked to his father—looking for any chance. Only to be met with a no. A hard, unrelenting no.

It was too much. She's too familiar. He's too close.

And then, she leaned in.

Her lips touched his, soft just like they used to be. He shouldn’t. But when the small of her hands gripped the lapels of his suit, pulling him closer, he kissed her back.

It wasn’t gentle—it was desperate, messy, like trying to reclaim something lost. Her body pressed against his, and the sound of her soft moan made him grip her arms. He presses her against the door. Her hands tried to open the front door for them to go inside. It felt like a reunion, a fleeting taste of something they weren’t supposed to have.

But then she whispered against his lips, “Do you think we’d be married now if your father hadn’t stopped us?”

The word married—hit him, made him open his eyes, freezing in place.

He pulled away, his breath ragged, staring at her. His lips still burned with the sin of hers. What the hell was he doing?

Ji-won stared at him, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Beomgyu—” she started, but he shook his head, taking another step back.

“I… I can’t,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away, his steps hurried and uneven. She reached for him—called his name, voice crying, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

All he could see was your face.

At home. Waiting for him. Leaning to the countertop with your stupidly sweet unnecessary smile. The crinkle by your eyes. It flashes over and over, drowning out everyone, and everything else.

Beomgyu gets into his car, his hands trembling as he fumbles with the keys. The engine roars to life with an urgency that matches his racing thoughts.

His grip tightens on the wheel as the image of Ji-won flashes in his mind. Her words. Her touch. The kiss. His stomach churns. What the hell was he thinking? Did he still love her?

The elevator ride to your floor feels agonizingly slow, every second stretching endlessly. He can barely hear his own breathing over the pounding of his heart. When the doors open, he steps out hesitantly, his footsteps dragging as he approaches the front door.

He pauses in the entryway, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you.

He sees you.

You're curled up on the couch, your head resting on a pillow, a blanket draped loosely over your legs. His eyes dart on the kitchen, there sits a plate of untouched food, now cold. Dinner.

His chest tightens. You waited for him. Despite everything—despite the fact that he’d made no promises, despite the countless nights like this—you still waited.

How? he thinks, his mind reeling. How could you wait for him, when he hadn't given you anything to hold on to?

He glances at the clock on the wall. 6 a.m. His jaw clenches. He hadn’t even noticed the time had passed. He’d been so caught up at the party, so lost in the haze of old memories and poor decisions, that he’d forgotten about you entirely.

He steps closer, his gaze softening as it falls on your face. You look peaceful, your breathing even, your features illuminated by the dim light filtering in from the window. There’s something unfamiliar stirring in his chest.

The urge to reach out, to touch you, is overwhelming. But as his eyes fall to your lips, a shameful reminder washes over him—he knows that his lips had been with someone else only minutes ago.

It would be cruel to let it stain the divine of your skin.

“Come here,” Beomgyu spoke, which made you look at him through the mirror for a couple of seconds before seeing him beckon you over. You walked towards him, about to sit on the edge of the bed, when he grabbed your arm and sat you between his thighs.

“What is it?” you asked softly. You felt his arms tighten slightly around you, his fingers brushing the fabric of your robe. He hadn’t spoken to you all day, hadn’t so much as looked at you too. You just got out of your shower when you saw him sitting in your bed. And now, here he was—unexpected, yet demanding this closeness.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his lips pressed against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his breath, warm against your skin. His hand slid slowly from your waist to your side, tracing the outline of your frame. You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. You knew what this was. What he wanted. What he was about to do.

This was the pattern you had grown to recognise. The times he came to you like this, seeking the comfort your body could offer. The way his touch made you feel seen. And when morning came, like always, he would retreat—pulling away, storms behind his eye, leaving you to wrestle with the hollow ache in your chest.

Nights like this made it hurt more.

“Nothing.” He says. You felt his hand caress your thigh as he kisses your shoulder. He turns you around. He licked his lips before letting it explore the inside of your mouth, making you moan. He grunts in your mouth as his hand snakes to the inside of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh.

He pushes his clothed crotch to your heat. He removes the top part of your robe, his lips easily finding themselves on your nipple, kissing around it before hungrily latching his mouth on it. The feeling of his wet tongue circling your bead and the growing tent on his pants rubbing on you made your body heat up.

You should push him away.

But then he looked up into your eyes, almost begging. It's soft, glassy which makes you wonder if you're ever going to see it other than like this. At that moment, the truth hit you: this was all he could offer. This collision, the press of his skin against yours—this was all you’d ever have of him. The pain intensified. He goes up and captures your lips again.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmured against your kisses. Fine, you thought. Just this once more—one last time. You placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back gently, turned around and got on all fours. You arched your back, pressing your head onto the mattress. Your ass was in the air, and you were exposed to him. Hearing him move behind you made you close your eyes.

Beomgyu was shocked. For you to offer yourself like this, so quickly, caught him off guard. He blinked, taking in the curve of your back, and the way you presented yourself.

You felt his tip rub against your folds and swollen clit, making you whine. He pulled your legs farther apart before plunging two fingers to make sure you were ready to take him.

You moaned, feeling his long fingers massage your walls. Your wetness trickled on his hand, and it only made him harder. He sucked his fingers when he pulled out. You felt every inch, his cock reaching places that made your body arch instinctively beneath.

It burns, and it burns so good.

“You're always fucking tight.” He kneads your ass cheeks, thrusting slowly at first before gradually increasing in speed. You felt so full as he pushed into you. He reached for your clit as you buried your face into the pillow. “Y/N…” His hard cock reaches the deepest parts of you. Beomgyu flipped your body without warning, and your arm immediately flew to your face. You turned your face away from him, not knowing that he’s been observing you.

You’ve been hiding your face the whole time as much as you can. Seeing his eyes felt unbearable. Because meeting his eyes will make you want him. To want him more than this. Something he will never be able to give.

“Y/N…I want to see your face.” He grabbed your hand to move them away, and Beomgyu felt a pang in his chest when he saw your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You were sobbing underneath him.

“Please…” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Just make me cum. Okay?”

You were breaking your own heart, chasing his own. And as he stared down at you, his indifference, the wall he’d built so carefully around himself, was killing you.

“What's wrong?” He urges you. His thrusts are unceasing as tears continue to fall down from your eyes. “Y/N…” Your orgasm hits you hard. Your toes curled as you cried out his name. Your walls were squeezing his cock. He grunts at how tight you feel around him. His hands were gripping the back of your knees as his hips stuttered, about to reach his own climax.

Even as he continued to move, his pace sloppy and desperate, your quiet sobs filled the room, uncontrollable. Beomgyu stilled above you, his heart twisting painfully at the sound. He hated himself—hated the way he’d reduced you to this.

You feel his hot cum inside you. When he finally pulled away, he collapsed beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. His unsure eyes drifted to you, curled up in the blankets, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle your cries. You moved your whole body under the sheets, clung to the fabric like it was the only thing holding you together.

Hiding. Hiding from the one who was supposed to be your other half.

The sight of you like this made his throat tighten, his chest heavy with something he couldn’t put into words. He had never wanted to hurt you, yet here you were.

That night, Beomgyu lay unable to find sleep, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling of your bedroom walls. You were an angel, one he had broken with his own hands.

You wake up, heart racing.

Your hands instinctively move to your face. It’s that dream again. The same one that’s haunted you night after night. The memory of him. That night. The last time Beomgyu touched you. It’s been just over four weeks.

Even in sleep, he doesn’t let you go.

You blinked, your surroundings blurry in the faint light of your room. How did you get here? You were sure you’d fallen asleep on the couch. The question barely settles before an uneasy twist in your stomach pulls you back to the present. A wave of nausea rushes through you, sharp and sudden.

Your hand flies to your mouth as you scramble out of bed, your legs barely keeping up as you dart to the bathroom. You made it just in time, collapsing onto your knees as your body seized itself forward. The bitter taste burned your throat, each heave leaving you weaker than the last. You sat there, gripping the cool edge of the toilet, tears slipping silently down your cheeks.

You pushed yourself up, legs still shaky, and made your way to the sink. The cold water was a welcome distraction, splashing against your skin and dripping down in rivulets. You scrubbed at your face harder than you needed to, as if the water could somehow rinse away more than just the sweat clinging to your skin.

Grabbing a towel, you patted your face dry, letting your gaze drift to the untouched box of tampons sitting quietly on the shelf.

“Y/N?” The knock on your door startled you. Tossing the towel aside, you stepped out of the small bathroom and crossed the room to open the door.

There he stood, his dark eyes locking onto yours the second the door opened. He scanned your face. “Are… are you okay? I heard a loud thump.” His voice was uneven, like he wasn’t sure he should even be asking.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. You moved to step past him, but the moment you did, he took a cautious step back, his body shifting as though he couldn’t bear to be too close.

It stung, but you didn’t let it show. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he replies, eyes darting to the vases on the table. “You got flowers?” Beomgyu’s stares on your face. The way your face softens at the mention of them—he notices it instantly. He doesn’t like it—not one bit.

“They were given to me.”

“Two dozen?” he presses, “By who?”

“Soobin,”

“And?” he asks again, though there’s no need. He already knows who.

“Yeonjun,” The name lands heavy between you.

His jaw tightens. “He dropped them off here yesterday? Why did—” His words tumble out quickly, too quickly.

Because it's your birthday.

“He was with Soobin, Beomgyu,” you interrupt, brushing past him toward the refrigerator. Your steps feel heavier than they should Blinking, you try to push the swelling emotions back down. Normally, you’d brush this off. So why does it feel so different today? Why are you getting emotional? You pull out a bottle of water, taking a long sip to steady yourself before asking, “What time did you come home yesterday?”

Silence.

You drink slowly, giving him time to answer, but he doesn’t. The room feels stifling in the stillness, the hum of the refrigerator suddenly too loud. You set your empty glass on the table with a dull thud, your eyes drifting back to him.

He’s standing there in his usual morning look—white shirt hanging loose, black pyjama pants slightly wrinkled. His hair is a mess from sleep, and his skin looks paler in the soft light. There’s something about how vulnerable he looks in the mornings that always catches you off guard.

He's painfully beautiful.

“Around the morning,” He's hesitant. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t meet your eyes, and the tightness in your chest only grows. There’s an ugly nagging feeling at the edges of your thoughts.

“I’ll go get ready for work,” he says, shutting the conversation before it even has a chance to go further.

It doesn't surprise you anymore.

You step into the opulent glow of the five-star Skyline Restaurant, the clink of fine china and hushed laughter swirled around. Fingers gripping your white Dior purse, you scan the room, heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Your eyes sweep over faces until a familiar one stops you in your tracks.

“Pretty girl.” Ryujin’s voice called out, smooth and warm. She raises a hand in a poised wave, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. You mirror her expression, weaving your way toward her. Heads turn as you pass, your perfume—delicate yet potent.

“How are you?” she asks as you reach her, gaze soft yet probing.

“I’m okay,” you reply, sinking into the plush couch across from her. The tension in your shoulders eases, if only slightly. “Thank you for the gifts, by the way. And I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up with you yesterday, like you wanted.”

“I understand.” Her reply is casual, but her eyes betray her. They flicker to the dark crescents under yours, the ones you’ve tried to conceal but can never quite hide. “It’s always him, isn’t it? At the end of the day.”

Your fingers wrap around the porcelain cup in front of you. The tea is hot against your palms, and you take a tentative sip. It tasted faintly of jasmine, soothing and bittersweet. The silence between you stretches.

“Y/N.” Her voice pulls you back, insistent. Your eyes meet hers, and for a moment, you can’t look away. “He’s the reason you’re like this. It doesn't have to be, but he made it this way. You see that, don’t you?”

"I know."

Ryujin’s eyes flickered with hesitation, the way someone falters before delivering a blow. Eyes darting between you and the untouched tea in front of her. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she began, her voice soft but unsteady. “But I… I heard something.”

Her words made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“I mean, I’m not completely sure, but it came from someone I trust and—”

“Ryujin,” you snapped, sharper than you intended. Your chest tightened as dread crept in. “Tell me.”

She hesitated, her lips parting slightly before closing again. “Did he spend the night with you yesterday?”

You felt the world shift under your feet. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your silence was enough.

He wasn't.

Ryujin’s expression softened, pity creeping into her features, “I—there was a party,” she said, her voice quieter now, hesitant. “One with Beomgyu and Ji-won.”

The name made your stomach drop.

“They were together all night,” she said, her words rushed, like she wanted to get them out before she lost her nerve. “And someone… someone saw them. Beomgyu practically carried her into his car. They left together.”

Your vision blurred for a second, the edges of the room fading as her words registered. You forced yourself to blink, to breathe. “Oh,” you whispered.

Ryujin stood abruptly and moved to sit beside you, taking your trembling hands into hers. “Confront him,” she urged. “Find out if it’s true.” She squeezed your hands. “I’m so tired of seeing you like this. Always giving and giving while he takes whatever’s left of you.” Her voice cracked. “Loving him silently. Loving him so hard isn’t going to make him love you back.”

You didn’t even realise you were crying until the tears started dripping onto your lap, soaking into the fabric of your dress. Ryujin hated it. She remembered you in college—how you laughed so freely, how your eyes sparkled. But now, that light she admired so much was dimming, as if someone had reached inside you and quietly stolen it piece by piece.

Ryujin swallowed hard, blinking back her own tears as she watched yours fall. How hurt must you be to cry like this—without a sound, without even a gasp? Just the quiet, stream of tears slipping down your face, carving paths of pain?

She hated seeing you like this—hated how one person had managed to turn the full-bloomed, radiant version of you into a shadow of yourself, a bud closed off to the world. That someone can easily break you, when you spent years building yourself.

You're waiting.

It's 10 p.m. The hours have crawled by since you drove back here. You look around. This space, where you are supposed to build a family, where love is supposed to be—is nothing but a cold place to you.

You're sitting on the couch, the same couch you’ve spent countless nights on, staring at the clock, waiting for him. Your hands rest in your lap, trembling slightly, though you don’t realise it. With nothing but fear, the fear that you’re losing something you never truly had.

Your phone buzzes again. Two names alternate, calling over and over. You don’t pick up. You don’t even look. You can’t.

Because the truth is, you don’t know if you’ll make it through the night without hearing from him. Your husband.

The elevator dings softly, and Beomgyu steps into the penthouse. His tie hangs loose around his neck, his hair tousled and far from his usual pristine self. He looks tired, distracted—like he’s been anywhere but here. His eyes met yours.

"Why are you still awake—"

"Do you think I don’t know what you’ve done?" Your voice cuts, trembling. You see his eyes widen, just a fraction. It’s so small you almost missed it.

"Ji-won." Her name burns as it leaves your mouth, bitter. His eyes flicker toward you for just a second—a split second, just long enough to know that he heard—but there is nothing in them. Nothing.

He moves with calculated slowness, setting his bag down on the table, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Time ticked. He doesn’t even try to explain. Doesn’t even look at you long enough for you to find a trace of the man you once thought you knew. His thumb brushes over his ring like it’s something he’s forgotten. A ring that should have meant forever.

"I can handle it all, Choi Beomgyu," you say, your voice firmer now, though your hands tremble at your sides. "I’ve handled it all, haven’t I? I didn’t say anything when you kept talking about her—days after we got married—on our honeymoon, or right in front of your family."

His back stiffens, his hands gripping the edge of the countertop. Beomgyu swallows the lump in his throat.

"Not once in these two years did I tell you how small you made me feel, how you made me feel like I didn’t belong in your world. Like I was a stranger in my own marriage." Your voice cracks, but you keep going. "I stayed silent, And after all of that—after everything—I stayed. I stayed because I thought… maybe it was enough. And yet, you still chose to cheat on me?"

You’re shaking now, and your voice rises despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "If you had just come to me and said you didn’t want this anymore, I would’ve let you go. I would’ve walked away, Beomgyu. Because everything I’ve done—every single thing—has been for you. For this marriage. For our families."

His head finally lifts, and his eyes meet yours. You hate how you feel small under his gaze, how his silence feels like a condemnation of your own vulnerability.

Beomgyu swallows hard, his jaw tightening. "That’s not what happened, Y/N."

"That you didn’t go home with her? That you weren’t with her on my fucking birthday?"

Your words hit him like a punch, and his eyes widen, the crack in his composure visible now.

"What?"

"You heard me." The burden festering inside you for so long is finally out. It feels small, inadequate even, but you don’t care anymore. You can’t. You can feel his eyes on you, and it's your turn to refuse to meet them. You’re done searching his face for answers that will never come.

You rise from the couch, your movements sharp, fueled by hurt and exhaustion. Steps are quick, your breaths are shallow as you reach your room. The door slams shut behind you with a force that echoes behind. Your hands tremble as you swipe on your phone. Tears blur your vision, falling onto the screen as you scroll, fingers fumbling to find the number you need.

You don’t think. You can’t. The tears are hot and relentless, burning tracks down your cheeks as you press the call button.

The line clicks immediately.

Outside your room, Beomgyu stands in the hallway, pacing back and forth. His footsteps are uneven, restless. The truth is, he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Every time he tries to form the words in his head, they fall apart before they can leave his lips.

How can he explain it? How can he make you understand? He never thought it would come to this—never thought he’d have to say it out loud. He’d always believed he could keep it buried, that you’d never find out.

He presses a hand to his forehead, exhaling sharply. He hasn’t spoken to Ji-won since that night. Not once. She tried to reach out—texts, calls, even showing up unannounced—but he shut it all down. He shut her out.

The irony isn’t lost on him. He, who once was hopelessly in love with her had turned his back on her entirely. What surprised him the most was how easy it was. All it took was thinking of you.

And the sight of your tears now terrifies him.

Beomgyu has always been a confident man. He was raised to be one. It’s who he was taught to be—the man who could command a room, close deals, deliver speeches without a stutter. But none of that matters now. Standing here, in front of your door, he feels small. Helpless. Negotiating with the world is one thing; facing the pain in your eyes is another.

He sighs, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration. His chest feels tight, his mind racing. He should knock. He knows he should try—should say something, anything.

He lifts his hand to knock, but the door swings open before he can. Your eyes meet his—red, swollen, glassy with unshed tears—and it feels like the air is knocked out of him. Beomgyu's chest tightens painfully, and then his gaze falls to the suitcase in your hand,"Where are you going?"

You don’t answer. Instead, you step past him, avoiding even the smallest brush against him. The sound of your suitcase wheels echoes in the hall. His heart stutters, his feet frozen in place.

"Y/N," he pleads, reaching for your wrist. His eyes flicker down to your hand, and the absence of your ring feels like a blow he wasn’t ready for.

"Beomgyu," you say quietly, pulling your hand away from his grasp."I’m going to stay with my brother for a while."

You don’t wait for his response. You can’t. If you stop now—if you meet his eyes again—you might change your mind. You walk toward the elevator, heart pounding, and breaking, but you don’t look back. When he doesn’t follow, when he doesn’t try to stop you, it cracks a little more.

The elevator doors begin to close, you think that’s it.This is the end. But then, his hand darts between the doors, forcing them open. You glance up in surprise. You've never seen him this unsure, or nervous before.

"At least let me see you out," he says softly. "Please,"

He stares at you. You nod, stepping aside to make room for him. Neither of you speaks, and the distance between you feels impossibly wide, even in the small space.

"Call me if you ever want to talk again," he finally breaks the silence, eyes fixed on the ground, "I’ll wait for you," You don’t respond, your throat tightening as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself not to cry.

Perhaps, it is his turn to wait for you.

It’s the longest elevator ride of your life.

In the parking lot, your brother is the first thing you see—tall and imposing, his glasses doing nothing to soften the sharp frown etched across his face. His eyes sweep over you, landing on the suitcase in your hand before darting behind you. The worry darkens instantly into anger when he sees Beomgyu trailing a few steps behind.

"You fucker," Soobin spits, brushing past you to square off with him. His voice is cold and furious. Beomgyu doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, even as your brother towers over him.

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt," Soobin growls. "I thought, at the very least, you’d treat my sister with the respect she deserves. But you—"

"Soobin, stop!" You step forward, your hands desperately reaching out to hold your brother’s fists clenched at his sides. "Please, let’s just go."

He hesitates, jaw tightening as he swallows his anger. With a final, scathing glare at Beomgyu, Soobin turns away. He reached for your suitcase, grabbed it without a word and shoved it into the trunk of his car. Then he opens the passenger door, his expression softening ever so slightly as he looks at you. "Get inside."

You slide into the car, your hands trembling as you clutch them in your lap. Soobin slams the door shut behind you, the sound shouting in the empty parking lot like a final warning.

Beomgyu stands there eyes never leaving your form, unmoving, as the car engine roars to life. His chest feels like it’s caving in as he watches Soobin pull away, the tyres screeching against the pavement. It’s almost insulting, the way the sound seems to echo his own turmoil.

His eyes follow the car until it vanishes from sight, leaving nothing but silence and the crushing weight of knowing you’re gone.

Beomgyu steps back, dragging his feet to somehow delay the reality settling in around him. Every few steps, he glances over his shoulder, the faintest flicker of hope burning in his chest. Maybe you’d be there. Maybe you’d come back.

Maybe this was just a nightmare he hadn’t woken up from yet.

But you didn't.

The elevator doors slide open, and he strides inside, his mind blank and racing all at once. He walks, heading straight to the kitchen for water—something to soothe the dryness in his throat, the tightness in his chest. But as he passes the living room, his eyes catch on the portrait hanging above the mantel.

The wedding photo.

It hangs on there, just as it always has, but tonight it feels unbearable. His eyes lock on your face, and he falters. How could he have missed it? The slight redness in your eyes, the way your smile looks stretched too thin. How can a bride look so unhappy? How did it take him this long to realise how beautiful you looked that day—despite everything? How could he have failed to tell you?

How could he have been so blind?

He wasn’t the only one hurting that day. You had to stand there, dressed in white, while he grieved for someone else. On the day that was supposed to be yours, his mind had been somewhere else, tangled in memories of a woman who wasn’t you. And he never talked to you about it—not once. He never told you what you needed to hear. That it wasn’t your fault. That none of it was your fault.

He blinks hard, his vision blurring. The cracks were always there, weren’t they? Small at first, almost invisible, but they spread, creeping through everything until you were barely holding on. And he didn’t see it. He didn’t see you. Now, he stares at the picture like it might give him some kind of answer, some kind of clue to undo it all, but all it does is make the ache in his chest grow sharper.

He wished he had known. He wished he had known that the hurt consuming him would fade. He wished he could’ve said it all sooner, when the chance was still there. To tell you the truth. That he indeed had kissed her. That it was a mistake. He should have fallen to his knees and begged you to forgive him.

Would it have made a difference? Could one moment of honesty, one action, one choice have been enough to hold you here, to make you stay?

"Fuck," His voice was unsteady, tears stinging his eyes—tears he didn’t even know he was capable of. He can’t remember the last time he cried. Maybe he never has. He never cried. His hand moves on instinct, reaching for the cabinet, but instead of a glass, his fingers close around the neck of the whisky bottle. Water won’t cut it tonight. He twists the cap off, letting it fall to the counter with a hollow clink, and takes a long, burning sip.

It doesn't dull anything. Not yet. So he drinks.

It’s only been an hour—barely even that—since you left, but it feels like his world is already collapsing.

You wake up groggy, your head spinning and eyes feeling heavy. You can’t remember when you fell asleep or even how. You shift on the bed—Soobin must have carried you here.

Right. You’re at his place now.

"Y/N, you awake?" your brother’s voice carries down the hall, accompanied by the mouthwatering smell of bacon. Your stomach growls unexpectedly. You drag yourself out of bed, splash water on your face in the bathroom, and head out of the room.

“Good morning,” you mumble, stepping into the kitchen. The sight of Soobin setting down a plate of pancakes and Yeonjun grinning at you makes your chest feel warm.

Yeonjun stands and strides over, wrapping you in a tight hug. His hugs are always the warmest. He’s your brother’s best friend, someone who’s been in your life long enough to feel like family. He's known you since you were children, and you see him as your own brother.

He rests his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the table as the corners of your lips tug into a soft smile you can’t seem to hold back. You sit down, and Soobin begins piling food onto your plate.

"Do you have any plans today?" Soobin asks casually, his focus still on divvying up breakfast.

“None, really,” you reply, your attention entirely on the bacon in front of you. Your stomach practically growls in anticipation, and without waiting, you dig in.

A little too eagerly, apparently. You choke, coughing as you try to swallow too quickly.

Yeonjun’s reaction is immediate—he’s already filling a glass of water before you even finish coughing. He places it in front of you and grabs a few napkins, sliding them your way with a concerned look. “Slow down, Y/N,” he says, his tone gentle but firm.

“Sorry,” you croak out, taking a sip of water to soothe your throat.

Last night, when you arrived, your brother didn’t ask for explanations. He didn’t push, didn’t pry. Instead, he pulled you into a hug, letting you collapse into him, tears soaking into his shirt as you broke down.

You heard him curse, his voice tight with restrained anger, but he didn’t say anything else. He just let you cry. His hands rested firmly on your back.

He didn’t ask because he knew. He knew that words wouldn’t help—not now. And maybe, he was afraid that asking would only deepen the pain already spreading through you.

It’s the reason Soobin hasn’t married yet. He’s had plenty of offers—proposals that would benefit his business, alliances that would make sense on paper. But none of it feels right. Not when he knows what you’ve endured.

He can't forget the look on your face on the day of your wedding. He keeps his distance, telling himself he has no right to fall in love or build a life of his own. How could he, knowing the choice was never yours? How could he allow himself to stand in the light of his own happiness, knowing it would only cast a longer shadow over you?

It would be unfair. Unfair to chase his own happiness.

He’s afraid. Afraid that loving someone, finding joy in his own marriage, would feel like betrayal or it would mean abandoning you to face your burdens alone.

"How are you?" Yeonjun asks, his gaze lingering on the dark circles under your eyes. His frown deepens.

"I'm… better," you say, the words catching in your throat as you force them out. It’s a lie, and you both know it. You’re far from better. Not when the image of Beomgyu standing in the parking lot, staring at you as you left, keeps haunting you. He looked… You shake your head, forcing the thought away.

You can’t go there—not now.

“There’s a party this weekend,” Yeonjun says, trying to sound lighthearted as he takes a bite of his food. “Some kind of school reunion. I think it’s three batches combined. You should come with us.”

"Yeah," you mumble, poking at your plate. "Ryu-jin’s been bugging me about it. Since Jakey won’t be able to make it—he’s overseas right now."

But the words falter on your lips as the thought you’ve been trying to avoid pushes its way forward. You don’t have to say it out loud; it’s already there, written on your face. Beomgyu. He might be there.

"He won’t be," Soobin says firmly, it's almost as if he read your thoughts. "I made sure of it. And if, by some chance, he shows up, I’ll stick by your side all night."

Your eyes flick over to Yeonjun, and he gives you a slight nod, his expression softening. "I’ll be there too,"

The days pass in a haze, each one blurring into the next, but this time, you’re not navigating them by yourself. You lean on your brother more than you ever thought you would, and somehow, he never seems to mind.

Soobin, who skips work without a second thought, pulling you out of the house when he sees you sinking too deep into yourself. He drags you to museums, to quiet cafés, or even just for drives with no destination.

And then there’s Yeonjun. No matter how busy his life is, he keeps... showing up. When Soobin’s tied up, Yeonjun is there, knocking on your door with his humor pulling reluctant smiles from you when you least expect it.

It’s not perfect—it’s still hard. Some days, you still lock your doors and don't come out no matter how many times they knock. There are days you don't even utter a single word. But they’re there, both of them, holding you up when you can’t do it yourself.

For the first time in two years, you don't feel alone.

“He’s not on the list, don’t worry,” Ryu-jin’s voice crackles through the speaker of your phone. You grip the steering wheel a little tighter, your eyes fixed on the road ahead. Soobin’s car leads in the lane in front of you.

"It's fine," you say, "It's not like I'm going for him, anyway."

"Okay. See you there," Ryu-jin replies before hanging up. You swallow hard, trying to push down yet another nausea rising in your throat. You focus on the road.

When you arrive, you walk alongside Soobin toward the entrance. Heads turn, whispers ripple through the crowd. The two of you—the university’s so-called power siblings—command attention without even trying. People smile, greet you, and their eyes linger on your Dior dress, but you barely notice.

“You’re finally here,” Yeonjun’s familiar voice calls out as he approaches, his warm smile cutting the tension in your chest. He grabs your arm gently, pulling you closer. “I’m glad you came,” he says softly, his eyes holding yours before focusing on Soobin.

"You're early." Soobin exchanges a quick greeting with him, heading off briefly to grab drinks for the three of you.

“Y/N!” Ryu-jin throws her arms around you, grinning as her eyes sweep over you. “Why do you always have to look this good?” she teases playfully. You laugh softly, a flicker of warmth in an otherwise heavy evening. The four of you settle at a table, waiting for the event to begin.

The night feels… okay. Not great, not life-changing, but okay. A simple glimpse of normalcy.

The week leading up to tonight lingers in your mind. Beomgyu’s messages. The flowers left at Soobin’s door. The missed calls that filled your screen, each one a reminder of everything you’ve been trying to forget.

You ignored them all. You had to.

Even now, standing here among friends, the memories creep in when you least expect them. Every time you close your eyes, you see them. You see her. And you see him.

And all the things that could’ve happened between them.

No matter how hard you try, the ghosts cling to you, refusing to let go.

You scrub your hands under the cold stream of water, the scent of soap mingling with the sterile air. The sound of the bathroom door creaking open doesn’t register at first—not until you hear her voice.

“Hi, Y/N.” You freeze, your stomach twisting before you even turn around. Through the mirror, her face appears behind you—Ji-won. The last person you wanted to see.

“What do you want?” Your reflection betrays the tension in your jaw. Your stomach twists violently. You don’t want to do this. Not here. Not now.

“Look, I just… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About what happened between you and Beomgyu.” Her words falter, her tone weak, as if that soft voice could somehow soften the blow. “I—I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she continues, “It just… it just happened. We didn’t mean it.”

You know what hurts more than being cheated on? It’s the sickening realization that the person they chose is better than you in every way. Prettier. Maybe even smarter. More… everything.

Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to speak, “Stop, Ji-won.” You glance at her through the mirror, your chest tightening painfully. “I get it. I can see why.”

She looks startled, her brows drawing together. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. I know you know we had… unfinished business—”

“Unfinished business?” You spin around to face her, and the words tumble out before you can stop them, “With someone else’s husband?”

“That’s why I came to apologize,”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head as your chest burns with a mixture of anger and pain. “Well, I don’t need it. Did you expect me to hug you?” You let out another laugh, this one harsher.

“Congratulations, I guess.” You step closer, each word laced with venom. “But don’t you ever come near me again. If you do, I’ll press charges. It will be really ugly. Do you understand?”

Ji-won nods stiffly, her expression crumbling under the weight of your stare. Without another glance, you turn on your heel and walk out of the bathroom, your steps hurried, the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

By the time you’re in the hallway, your breath is coming in short gasps. Your chest feels tight, constricted, like you’re drowning in your own emotions. You press a hand to your chest, forcing yourself to keep walking, but your vision blurs with unshed tears.

You can’t breathe.

The alcohol should’ve been enough. You thought it would drown everything out—the ache, the gnawing in your gut, the weight pressing down on your shoulders. But the pain is relentless, carving its way through you, burning and cold.

It starts in your chest, spreading like wildfire, suffocating your lungs, and crawling up your spine until it feels like you’re being pulled apart from the inside. It’s sharp, chaotic, like a bullet ricocheting through your body, tearing apart every fragile piece it touches.

You hear Ryu-jin’s voice calling your name, faint and distant, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. No. The crowd around you feels stifling, every laugh and every cheer scraping against your raw nerves. You’re barely holding it together, and you know that if you stay even a second longer, you’ll shatter in front of everyone.

You just need to go. To get away. Anywhere but here. Because right now, in the middle of this party, you feel like an open wound, with no place to hide.

“Where the hell did she go?” Ryu-jin muttered under her breath, panic creeping into her voice as she scanned the hallway outside the bathroom. She had only stepped away for a minute, grabbed what she needed, and when she came back—you were gone.

She storms back to the table, her heart racing. “Soobin, did you see Y/N?”

Soobin looked up immediately, concern flashing across his face. “She was with you, wasn’t she?”

“I lost her,” Ryu-jin admits, held up her phone, frustrated. “I’ve been trying to call, but her phone’s not connecting.” The worry on Soobin’s face mirrors her own, and for a moment, neither of them speaks.

“I’ll check outside,” Soobin says, already rising to his feet, his determination written all over his face. Yeonjun appears at the table just as Soobin leaves. “I’ll go with him.”

“Ryu-jin? Hey, long time no see.”

She turned to see Jay standing there, his familiar easygoing smile not quite registering in the chaos of her mind. “Jay,” she said, forcing a tight smile. “Hey. Yeah. Long time.”

Jay tilted his head. “Surprising. Where’s Choi’s golden girl? Isn’t she usually glued to your side?”

Ryu-jin hesitated, her smile faltering. “They… stepped out for a bit,” she lied, tone distracted.

Her gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when she saw her. Ji-won. Sitting with her group of friends, laughing, carefree, as if she hadn’t done enough damage already. The sight of her felt like a slap to the face. “The audacity…” Ryu-jin muttered under her breath.

Jay follows her line of sight, his eyebrows raising when he spots her. “That’s Ji-won, right?” he asks, his tone laced with something between curiosity and disdain. “The one who’s always been weirdly obsessed with Y/N?”

Ryu-jin’s head snapped toward him. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” Jay continues, shrugging, “back in college, she had this… thing. Like, she couldn’t stand it whenever someone said Y/N was pretty, which was often. It was kind of insane, honestly. Everyone knew Y/N was the prettiest girl back then, and Ji-won hated it. Like, visibly hated it.”

Ryu-jin chokes on her drink, coughing as she shakes her head in disbelief. Her fingers twitch with the urge to march over to Ji-won and give her a piece of her mind, but before she can act on the intrusive thought, Soobin reappears. His face is pale.

“She’s been in an accident,”

You got into an accident.

Beomgyu was sitting in his office when the call came. Everything around him blurred, the world spinning out of focus. It felt as if time had stopped for him, while the Earth kept spinning mercilessly. His body froze, but his mind was spiralling.

Y/N. Accident. The words replayed on a loop in his head, loud and cruel. He couldn't process them, couldn't let them sink in, because doing so would mean accepting that something terrible had happened to you.

You got into a car accident. Something terrible happened.

His throat tightened as he gripped the phone with trembling hands. "Wh-where… which hospital?" he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might shatter.

The answer came, muffled like it was coming from underwater. The call ended before he could fully react. The phone slipped from his hand onto the desk as he staggered to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him.

Somehow, he made it to his car, though he couldn’t remember how. His chest heaved. With shaking fingers, he dialled another number, desperate for more answers.

“Don’t bother coming here, Choi Beomgyu.” Soobin’s voice was sharp and breathless when he answered. It sounded strained, furious even, and it only made Beomgyu’s heart sink further.

“Is she okay?” Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely audible. The question felt like it would break him. His chest felt like it was caving in, the pain clawing at him as he braced himself for the answer. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, his free hand digging into his hair as he fought to stay grounded.

“She’s…” Soobin’s voice faltered, and that hesitation was enough to send Beomgyu spiraling further. “They’re trying. The doctors are doing everything they can.”

It wasn’t enough. Those words, those pitiful attempts at reassurance, did nothing to quiet the storm raging inside him. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as panic surged through him. If Soobin couldn’t say you were okay, it meant you weren’t.

Beomgyu floored the gas pedal.

His mind raced as fast as the car, every thought more horrifying than the last. What if he was too late? What if he never got to see you again? His breath hitched at the thought. His hands gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles pale.

He had to see you. Alive. Breathing.

Anything less would destroy him.

Beomgyu bursts into the hospital, his heart pounding so loudly it drowns out the sterile beeping and muffled voices around him. He barely registers the nurse’s directions to your room. All he knows is that he has to see you. His feet carry him faster than his thoughts, and when he spots the door, he doesn’t expect the two familiar figures standing outside.

Ryu-jin sits on a chair, her face buried in her hands as her shoulders shake with sobs. Yeonjun is pacing, his expression tight with worry, his hands clenched into fists.

The moment Yeonjun sees Beomgyu, he stops dead in his tracks. His gaze hardens, sharp and unyielding, as he steps forward and blocks the door with his arm.

“She wouldn’t want to see you,” Yeonjun snaps, his voice low and venomous. “Get the fuck out of here, you piece of shit.”

Beomgyu freezes for half a second before anger flares in his chest, red-hot and uncontrollable. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he shouts, shoving Yeonjun hard enough to make him stumble back a step. “I’m going to see my wife!”

Yeonjun doesn’t back down. If anything, he looks even angrier.

“Stop it! Both of you!” Ryu-jin’s voice cracks as she looks up, mascara streaked down her tear-stained cheeks. She doesn’t bother wiping it away. Her hands tremble as she points at the door. “Visitors aren’t allowed until tomorrow. She’s in surgery, Beomgyu. And it’s not… it’s not a minor one.”

Those words hit him like a freight train. The fight drains out of him, leaving only fear in its place. He stumbles back a step, his hands running through his hair as he struggles to breathe. “Surgery?” he whispers, his voice breaking. “What kind of surgery?”

Yeonjun glares at him, unmoving. “And now you come running,” he spits, his tone bitter. “After all this time? Now you care?”

Beomgyu clenches his jaw, meeting Yeonjun’s fiery gaze but saying nothing. Because he knows Yeonjun’s right.

Yeonjun’s shoulders sag, and his voice softens, “You don’t even know,” he says, eyes on the floor. “You don’t know what a fucking queen your wife is.”

The unexpected shift in tone stops Beomgyu in his tracks. He stares at Yeonjun. His words—they're spoken with such devastation that it leaves him frozen. He sees the sullen look on Yeonjun's face. After all, Yeonjun has always been soft when it comes to you.

So soft that it terrifies Beomgyu.

"Beomgyu." Soobin's voice cuts through the heavy silence, pulling Beomgyu out of his spiralling thoughts. He turns toward him, barely able to focus. "Let's talk here."

Beomgyu nods silently and walks over, his legs feeling heavier with every step. He follows without a word, leaving Yeonjun and Ryu-jin standing alone near the door.

Ryu-jin watches Yeonjun out of the corner of her eye. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a single word since his last bitter remark to Beomgyu. He stands there, staring at the floor. His hands clasped together.

The silence stretches uncomfortably, and she can’t help herself. “Yeonjun…” she starts hesitantly. “You’re not… in love with her or something, are you?”

Her words made Yeonjun’s head snap up. His eyes meet hers, and for the first time, Ryu-jin sees it—really sees it. The glassy sheen in his eyes, the way his lips part but no words come out. The heartbreak painted so clearly on his face that it makes her chest ache. “You idiot,” she whispers, her voice soft with pity.

Yeonjun lets out a shaky breath, his gaze dropping again as if he can’t bear the weight of her sympathy. “She’s… my best friend’s little sister,” he murmurs, his voice raw and quiet. “I didn’t think it was possible. Not for me. Not for her.” He doesn’t answer directly. He doesn’t need to. It’s all over his face.

Yeonjun was in love with you, ever since he first saw you.

Beomgyu sat across from Soobin, his hands clenched tightly in his lap as he listened. Soobin’s voice was calm but firm as he explained what the doctors had said—stress was the last thing you could handle right now. “I’ll let you know if it’s okay for you to see her."

The words didn’t settle easily. Beomgyu didn’t understand why no one would tell him anything about your condition, why every detail was kept from him. But knowing you were stable, even for the moment, was enough. He swallowed his frustration and nodded, agreeing to Soobin’s terms.

Still, he couldn’t help himself. As Soobin turned to leave, Beomgyu’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Please,” he begged, “Let me see her. Just once… before I go.”

Beomgyu felt like his heart was clawing its way out of his chest, beating so erratically it left him breathless. It begged to escape, just as he begged silently to be allowed into the ICU. His hands trembled, numb and unsteady. He flexed his fingers, forcing a crack to echo through his knuckles, before gripping the cold metal of the doorknob.

On the other side of this door was you—the woman he hurt.

The thought made him pause, the ache in his chest spreading to his throat, tightening it like a noose. He wasn’t sure he could face you—not like this. But he couldn’t stay away, not anymore.

The door creaked softly as it opened, and his heart stuttered at the sight of you. Your face was pale but peaceful, your eyes closed, your breaths slow and steady. The sound of the machines around you was the only thing keeping him grounded.

He stepped closer, each movement hesitant, his guilt weighing heavier with every inch he bridged between you. When he finally reached your bedside, he froze, staring down at your hand—fragile and adorned with IV needles. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. They were soft. Warm. And just that small, simple touch made him breathe again—really breathe—for the first time in days.

“Baby,” he whispered, the word breaking in his throat.

He sank to his knees beside you, clutching your hand to his face. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over before he could stop them. They fell onto your skin, warm and unrelenting, a silent apology for every mistake he had made. He pressed his lips to your hand, shoulders shook as he cried.

The past few days without you had been unbearable. If he ever had doubts, or worries, if he ever hesitated—those thoughts were gone now. It's you. He’d thought about every little thing you did that he had taken for granted. All of it. And he realized, how much it all mattered.

How much you mattered to him.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, whispers to your skin as he continue to kiss your palm. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the words pouring out of him. “You mean everything to me. I didn’t see it before, but I see it now. I love you. God, I love you so much.”

He squeezed your hand, hoping—praying—that somehow you could feel him. That even in this fragile, unconscious state, you could hear the desperate beating of his heart, could feel the truth in his touch. “I’ll do better,” he whispered, “I’ll be better. If you’ll just… if you’ll just give me another chance. Please.”

He didn’t know if you could hear him. He didn’t know if you’d ever forgive him. And he hates himself how it took him this long to figure it out.

Beomgyu’s heart was in his hands now, fully exposed and vulnerable, waiting—you could somehow feel it. He rested his forehead against your hand, tears pooling on the stark white sheets. If you gave him the chance, he’d spend the rest of his life proving that his love is real. He was finally here, standing in the world where you had once stood so heartbreakingly alone. And that his heart was yours, completely yours.

He would spend forever making up for what he had done. Even if it kills him.

“Where were you?” you asked, reaching over to grab the strawberry from the basket on the kitchen table. Beomgyu’s chuckle filled the room. “I went drinking with Taehyun. Just a light drink,” he said casually, his hand brushing your shoulder as he passed behind you to grab a plate.

“Why? Did you miss your husband?” he teased, carefully plating the food before setting it down in front of you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You wish.”

He chuckled, handing you a spoon and fork before moving around the kitchen. A tall glass appeared on the table next to your plate and he poured you water.

“Did he miss me too?” Beomgyu’s voice was soft, almost tentative, drawing your gaze upward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were caught in the tenderness there. It made your heart ache in that way only he could.

“He?” You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you swallowed. “What makes you so sure it's a boy?” Your hand instinctively brushed over your stomach as a quiet smile softened your face. The thought of your little one—boy or girl—filled you with a warmth you couldn’t quite put into words.

“I just feel it,” A small smile flickered across his lips, “What if we get twins?”

You looked down, your thoughts wandering to tiny clothes, little shoes scattered across the floor, and pastel-painted walls filled with light and laughter. “That would be… amazing,” you murmured.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Beomgyu pulling out the chair beside you. He sat down at first, but then, almost as if drawn closer by some unseen force, he shifted. You felt his gaze before you saw him—soft, unwavering, and filled with a kind of awe that made your chest tighten.

“That sounds nice, two little you running around.” he breathed, his voice almost a whisper. His hand reached out slowly, brushing against your stomach. You set down your utensils, giving him a soft nod as you shifted slightly, allowing him more access.

Beomgyu lowered himself onto his knees in front of you, his large hands resting gently on either side of your growing belly. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment before he let out a long, steady breath. Then, with a tenderness that made your throat tighten, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against your stomach.

“Mommy and Daddy love you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. He sounded so vulnerable, so small—like all the pain he had been carrying had finally spilled over. His lips pressed softly against your stomach. And then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face against you.

Your hand moved instinctively, threading through his soft hair with slow, soothing strokes. He pulled you closer, as though being near you could quiet the storm in his heart. Your fingers trailed down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down his back.

And then—it shifted.

In your dream, you were cradling a baby to your chest, its tiny body safe in your arms. Beomgyu leaned down, smiling widely as you do.

You woke up, panting.

You were dreaming. It shattered as reality came rushing back. Pain coursed through you, sharp and unrelenting, pulling a small, involuntary sound from your lips.

The memory hit next, as vivid as the moment it happened. Driving through the night with tears blurring your vision, your hands trembling on the wheel. The sound of your ragged breathing, the pounding of your heart. You were speeding, desperate to outrun the ache inside. Then the impact—another car colliding into yours, the violent spin before your vision went black.

“Hnn,” you whimpered, barely able to get the sound out. Your throat was dry, parched, and every part of you ached. You needed water.

"Y/N," a voice broke through the haze of your awakening. You turned your head to see your brother, Soobin. His face paled as he dropped whatever he was holding and rushed to your side. “I—I—”

“Water. Please,” you rasped, your throat dry and raw.

Soobin nodded quickly, his hands trembling as he reached for the water bottle on the nearby table. He uncapped it, holding it to your lips as you drank. Relief was fleeting; the ache in your chest outweighed the dryness in your throat.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice a little stronger now, though your hands still shook.

“You got into an accident,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. His voice was low, almost fragile. “A surgery was performed. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

You nodded, trying to process his words, but his silence that followed unsettled you. ou looked at him, noticing the way his eyes darted away from yours, how his lips pressed together like he was holding back something he didn’t know how to say.

“What is it?” you pressed, your chest tightening with dread.

Soobin hesitated, his hands fidgeting in his lap before he reached out to take yours. “Let me call the nurse first, okay?” You nodded, though the fear in his voice made it hard to breathe.

You nodded, your anxiety growing as he stepped out. Moments later, the nurse arrived, and then the doctor, their voices calm and professional as they began explaining the details of your condition. But their words blurred together—a haze of medical jargon that barely registered—until one sentence shattered everything.

“You were in your first trimester when the accident occurred. The baby didn’t survive. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Your world tilted. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, it felt like your heart had stopped.

“A baby?” you whispered, the word foreign and fragile on your lips.

The nurse and doctor offered their condolences before quietly excusing themselves, leaving you alone with Soobin. Your hands trembled as they instinctively moved to your stomach. “I was pregnant?” Your voice cracked, disbelief and anguish bleeding into every word. "Soobin?"

“Y/N…” Soobin’s voice was choked with emotion.

“I mean… they’re saying I was…” You stopped, the reality sinking in with a force so cruel. “Oh.”

“I didn’t even know,” Tears blurred your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You lost a baby. A life you didn’t even know you were carrying. A piece of you that was gone before you ever had the chance to feel it, to know it, to love it.

Did you have to lose your child too?

The sobs came hard and fast, wracking your body until you could barely breathe. Your hands covered your mouth, trying to hold in the grief that spilled over anyway. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant.” you choked out, your voice breaking. “And now… they’re gone.” Your hands clutched at your stomach as if trying to hold on to something that was no longer there. "It's all my fault."

Soobin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as your cries tore the room. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice shaking. He held you tightly. The only thing that kept you from falling out.

Your cries grew louder, as the loss consumed you. The one you saw in your dream, so warm in your arms. You had held them, hadn’t you? You could still feel the weight of their tiny body in your arms.

Your baby.

All you could do was mourn for the life that had slipped away before you even knew it existed.

It’s been a week since Soobin made his last call to Beomgyu. A week since you opened your eyes in the hospital. And yet, Beomgyu has heard nothing.

Every day, he drags himself to the hospital. But every time, the answer is the same: no. On the fourth day, he arrived—you’d been discharged. You were gone.

Still, every morning, Beomgyu wakes up with that same aching hope that refuses to let go no matter how much it hurts. He gets through the day somehow, clutching at the thought of seeing your face again. But by night, when the world quiets, he’s left with nothing but his tears, falling asleep with the weight of your absence pressing down on his heart.

He’s distracted, eyes fixed on the same line of text glowing on his computer screen. It’s been minutes, maybe longer, and he still hasn’t moved past the first sentence. His mind is elsewhere—adrift—when a knock on the office door pulls him back.

His secretary peeks in, face filled with cautious expression. “Sir, I’ve been calling your phone. Someone’s here to see you—Park Sunghoon.”

Beomgyu blinked, confused. Sunghoon? His old batchmate, someone he’d shared classes with years ago. They hadn’t talked in forever. He nodded slowly, signalling her to let him in.

The door opens fully, and Sunghoon strides in. His pale complexion contrasts starkly with the black polo shirt he’s wearing, and Beomgyu notices the glasses perched on his nose—something he didn't have before. Sunghoon doesn’t look quite the same as Beomgyu remembers.

“Beomgyu,” Sunghoon said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How’ve you been, man?”

“Sunghoon,” Beomgyu responds, sitting up straighter in his chair. “What brings you here?” He gestures toward the seat across the desk, and Sunghoon takes it. The frown etched into his brow didn’t escape Beomgyu’s notice. “Is everything okay?”

Sunghoon exhales, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on his knees. “You know I’m close with Jay, right?”

Beomgyu narrows his eyes, unsure where this is heading, but he nods. “Yeah. And?”

“Well…” Sunghoon hesitates, the words seemingly heavy in his throat before he finally speaks. “I heard about Y/N. That she got into an accident recently.” The sound of your name halts Beomgyu.

“I couldn’t ignore it anymore,” Sunghoon continues, voice quieter. “I made promises to her, you know? But lately… I don’t know. It’s been eating me alive.”

Beomgyu runs his hand to his hair, "Sunghoon…”

"I didn’t think it was my place to say this," Sunghoon begins, "When I heard you two got married, I thought maybe she’d tell you. Maybe you already know. But I came here personally, just in case. Because you deserve to know. And if I don’t tell you now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life."

He exhales deeply before continuing. “Do you remember how you used to talk about Ji-won? How you’d brag about her cooking for you, leaving little things for you—sweets, medicine, hot packs. Or the cold water she’d always leave at your bench during those grueling practices under the sun? Do you remember how she saved your ass that time you forgot your assignment, staying up late just to finish it for you? You told us all those things, over and over, like she a gem.” Beomgyu feels his chest tighten as Sunghoon meets his nervous gaze.

“All of that, Beomgyu… it wasn’t Ji-won,” Sunghoon says carefully, “It was Y/N. Every single one of those things. I know because… she asked me to help her sometimes. She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t do it for recognition or because she wanted anything back. She just cared about you. I even told her once—maybe she should tell you how she felt, and even if you didn’t feel the same, at least it’d help her move on. But she wouldn’t. She told me… her love for you wasn’t about getting something back. It wasn’t about her. It wasn’t selfish.”

Beomgyu’s hand trembles under the table, his knuckles white as he clenches his fists. His throat feels tight, each word hitting his ears.

“At first, I couldn’t understand her decision—I even judged her for it, thinking she was only making... things harder on herself,” Sunghoon admits, voice softening. “But over time, I realized—none of us have the right to judge someone else’s pain. You can’t measure someone else’s actions by your own standards. What might seem small or insignificant to one person could be earth-shattering to someone else.”

Beomgyu had been in love with the idea of Ji-won all along.

Those moments—the little gestures, the care, the comfort—they had become the foundation of his attachment to her. How he remembered her. They were the memories he clung to, the ones burned so deeply into his mind that letting her go had felt impossible. She was, in his mind, someone who cared for him. Someone who truly knew him.

But it wasn’t her. It was you. It had been you all along.

He thinks about Ji-won, the girl he once believed was willing to stand by him no matter what. She made him think about defying his parents, about running away from everything—his responsibilities, his future, his entire life. Ji-won was the one who fueled his anger, who stood beside him as he cursed the world and everyone in it.

And then there was you.

You, who never let him go too far. You didn’t encourage his anger—you challenged it. Even when it meant standing against him, because you wanted him to understand—not everything could be run from. It was you who reminded him that his obligations weren’t a prison but a part of him, something he couldn’t just abandon. It was you who helped him rebuild the bridge to his parents when he didn’t even realise it had been burned.

It’s suffocating now, the truth. To realise that the very actions that made him fall for Ji-won—the moments he thought defined her love for him—were never hers. They were yours.

Ji-won had been nothing but a mirror to his rebellion. This truth, made him want to see you more.

“Pour me another,” Beomgyu muttered to the bartender he leaned heavily on his forearm. The man hesitated, his concern written all over his face. Beomgyu noticed but didn’t care. “I said, pour me another one.”

With a reluctant nod, the bartender slid another drink in front of him. Beomgyu downed it in one go, the burn in his throat doing nothing to drown out the ache in his chest. He fumbled for his phone, the screen glaring back at him as he typed out messages he knew you’d never read.

I miss you, baby. Can I see you? Let’s talk, please. Are you not going to see me? Forever? Ok. I understand. I don’t deserve forgiveness. No. Please. Give me a chance. Just one chance to see you. To talk to you, please. I can’t go on another day without you. Please Y/N.

The messages sat there, unanswered.

Stumbling out of the bar, his legs unsteady and his vision blurred, he barely noticed the bartender calling his driver. He collapsed onto the pavement outside, his head in his hands, phone still clutched in his trembling fingers.

As he opened it again, ready to type another desperate plea, his screen lit up with an incoming call. His heart skipped, hope flickering briefly before seeing another unfamiliar number.

“When are you going to stop calling me, Ji-won?” he shouted into the phone, his voice hoarse with frustration and alcohol. “I’ve said it more than once—we don’t need to talk. Not ever again.”

“I just wanted to know how you’re—”

“Please!” he cut her off, his voice breaking as tears streamed freely down his face. He was shaking now, his words spilling out in a desperate sob. “Please, Ji-won… I know everything. I know what you did. You ruined the only good thing I ever had. You… you destroyed it.”

He pressed his palm against his mouth, trying to muffle the sound of his own cries. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible through his tears. “Just let me be.”

The line ends.

Ji-won freezes, her fingers trembling as the line goes dead. You ruined the only good thing I ever had. You… you destroyed it.

She exhales shakily, forcing air into her lungs that suddenly feel too tight. Her phone slips from her hand, landing softly on the bedspread. Hot tears well in her eyes, blurring the room around her. She had let herself believe—naively, foolishly—that Choi Beomgyu could still be hers.

Even after everything, she had convinced herself that there was still a piece of him that belonged to her. But now, hearing his words, she knew. She had already lost him.

The tears came harder as her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to the moment it all began. The moment her hatred for you took root.

“Beomgyu,” she had chirped, plopping down beside him on the couch. He had been immersed in a book, his brow furrowed in concentration, but she didn’t care. She wanted his attention, his reassurance. She always did. “There’s this talk going around about… Y/N,” she said, the name leaving a sour taste on her tongue. “People are saying she’s the prettiest girl on campus.” Her voice dropped, tinged with an edge of insecurity.

“But that’s not true, right? She’s not that… pretty.” She trailed off, squeezing his hand, her smile faltering as she waited for the words she longed to hear. She wanted him to say, there was no competition—that she was the most beautiful girl in his eyes.

Beomgyu was half hearing her words because he was engrossed in the book he was reading. So instead, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a hint of confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked simply, his tone matter-of-fact. “It's true. I think she’s beautiful.”

It was on that day Ji-won began to hate you with every fiber of her being.

The kind of hatred that wasn’t born overnight, but nurtured by her insecurities, fed by the way you walked through the world without a care—dragging every boy’s eyes in your wake as if it were effortless. And the worst part? You didn’t even seem to notice. You didn’t have to notice.

Jealousy festered in her chest, growing heavier each time she caught a glimpse of you. It didn’t help that you and Beomgyu—her Beomgyu—shared a world she could never truly enter. The Chois. The big families. A legacy. Something she wasn’t, something she could never be.

The announcement of your engagement felt like the final blow. She couldn’t understand how the universe could be so evil. You, the girl she couldn’t stand, were being handed the one thing she clung to the hardest. It wasn’t fair. And as jealousy morphed into bitterness, she let herself simmer in the injustice of it all, until it burned hot enough to ignite a plan.

Ji-won thought of everything. She knew Beomgyu would be there at the party, and she knew what she had to do. She chose the kind of dress he used to love. She styled her hair the way he used to run his fingers through, practised the words he used to adore hearing spill from her lips. She even reached for the used perfume he once said he liked.

It wasn’t an accident. None of it was. Ji-won walked into that room not as a guest, but as someone determined to remind him of what they once had. It didn’t matter that he was married.

You ruined the only good thing I ever had. You destroyed it. Please, just let me be.

She swallows hard, the lump in her throat refusing to go away. The realization settles over her like a heavy fog, a fog that turns clear—she is nothing more than a wall. A futile obstacle standing in the way of two souls who are meant to be together.

She opens her phone, booking a flight—any flight—to anywhere but here.

“It’s here,” Soobin says softly, his hand resting gently on your back as he guides you forward. His finger points to the glass grave in front of you.

Gone, but forever in our hearts. Moon.

Your Moon. The name you gave your baby—a name as delicate and luminous as the child who never got to see the world. You thought long and hard about it. It had to be beautiful, just like him. A name worthy of all the love you poured into his short, fleeting existence.

You pull out your handkerchief, wiping at the thin layer of dust that has settled on the outside of the glass. Your fingers tremble as you do, as though clearing the smudges could make it hurt less. But it doesn’t. It never does. Your brow furrows as you fight the ache swelling in your chest. He’s in there—inside that small, delicate bottle. And this is all you can do for him now.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper, your voice cracking as the words leave your lips. Soobin stands beside you, his smile soft but heavy with sadness. “Do you think I would’ve been a good uncle?” he asks, his voice barely louder than the wind.

You glance at him, your heart aching at the question. He kneels to place the small flowers you’d brought together, arranging them with the utmost care. There's an unfamiliar flower resting beside it. Someone must have wrongly placed it.

“Yes,” you manage to say, your throat tight with emotion. “I think the two of you would’ve been close.” You force a smile, though it wavers, your words choking you as they come out.

He reaches up and smooths your hair, a comforting gesture that almost makes you break. “He’s up there,” Soobin murmurs, his eyes lifting to the sky. “With no pain. Watching over you.”

You nod, swallowing hard, willing your tears to stay back. You can’t cry. Not here. Not now. If you cry, your baby might worry. You’ve convinced yourself of that, even if it doesn’t make sense.

The week after your discharge was unbearable.

You clung to Soobin like a lifeline, your hands gripping his. Your parents moved you back into their house without question, simply knowing you needed them.

Your mother—the strongest woman you’d ever known, the one who never faltered—cried with you when you broke the news. She held you in her arms like you were a child again, her tears falling silently against your hair as you sobbed into her chest. Your father walked with you every day, leading you to the garden where you could sit in the sunlight, as if the warmth could somehow seep into the cracks inside you. They cooked your meals, cleaned your space, and did everything you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

Tonight, you find yourself staring blankly at the walls of your old room.

The quiet feels suffocating, pressing against your chest. Sleep won’t come, and before you even realise it, tears are slipping down your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying until the dampness touches your skin. You sit up abruptly, your chest heaving as if the air refuses to fill your lungs. The stillness of the bed feels unbearable, so you push yourself off it, your feet meeting the cool floor.

Pacing back and forth, you feel the tears come harder now, unchecked and unexplainable. You don’t even know why you’re crying. It’s just there—this ache, this heaviness. You were about to go out, to get Soobin or your parents.

But then your eyes caught the window.

It glows. The moon.

It’s full tonight, impossibly bright, casting a soft, silvery glow across the room. It feels like it’s staring back at you. You stand there, frozen, the phone slipping from your hand. The moon’s reflection shimmers faintly in your tear-filled eyes, and for a moment, you forget the heaviness pressing against your chest. It’s as if the moon is speaking to you, telling you to breathe, to let go, to just be.

Your breathing steadies. You stand there, bathed in its light, feeling the faintest glimmer of peace. And the storm inside you begins to calm.

It’s been six months since you woke up.

Six months since you returned to your parents’ house, where the familiar walls offered some sense of safety. Ryu-jin and Yeonjun visit almost every weekend, their presence a small comfort. Soobin stays, too, refusing to leave your side.

It’s been almost seven months since you last saw Choi Beomgyu.

Seven months since everything fell apart.

Choi Beomgyu, who, for six months now, has spent every single day driving two hours to your parents’ house. He shows up like clockwork, no matter the weather, no matter the time. After work, he makes the trip, arriving at the big gated doors with a bouquet of white roses in his hands. Every single day.

He doesn’t make a scene or beg to be let in. He just waits, bouquet in hand, a fragile hope flickering in his eyes. White roses. Always white roses. They used to be your favourite.

His parents send gifts, too. Packages and handwritten letters arrive, carefully chosen and delicately worded, but you can’t bring yourself to open them.

And every day, you hear the knock at the gate. Every day, you peek from the upstairs window, watching him wait, white roses clutched in his hands like a lifeline. And every day, you stay hidden behind the curtains, your feet stay rooted to the floor, your heart too bruised to carry you to him.

But today is different. Today, it has to be.

The papers are in your hands. Unsigned divorce papers. You tell yourself it’s just paper, just ink, but the trembling in your hands betrays the truth.

You walk to the building you once called home, each step echoing in your chest. The elevator hums softly as you press the button, your reflection in the mirrored doors a stranger to you. When it finally dings open, you step out into the hallway that once smelled of comfort and familiarity. Now it feels like a mausoleum.

Your hand hovers over the doorbell of your home—no, his home. The space you used to share feels distant. The ring in your other hand feels impossibly heavy, its cool metal biting into your palm.

You’ve tried to get rid of it before. Once, you even threw it in the trash, convincing yourself it was the right thing to do. But then came the panic. You tore through the garbage, hands shaking, the stench clinging to you as you clawed through. It didn’t matter that you ruined your clothes or that your mom’s voice cracked as she begged you to stop.

You just couldn’t let it go. Maybe, you should return it properly.

You take a breath and press the button. And then you wait.

When the door swung open, Beomgyu’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything froze. His eyes widened in shock, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came out. You felt your chest tighten painfully, the sight of him unravelling something inside you. He looked… so different. His hair, longer now, fell to his shoulders in messy waves, unkempt like he hadn’t bothered to comb it. His skin was pale, almost sickly, and his eyes were rimmed with red, like he’d been crying—or hadn’t slept in days.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand gripped the edge of the door like he needed something to steady him, his heart hammering so loudly he swore you could hear it. Was this real? Were you really standing there? He let his gaze trail over you, taking in your thinner frame, the hollow tiredness etched into your face. He wanted to say something, to invite you in, but the words caught in his throat.

You didn’t say a word. Instead, you stepped past him, the sharp click of your heels against the floor filling the suffocating silence. Each step echoed like a countdown, louder in his ears than it should have been. Beomgyu turned to watch you, his hand hovering uselessly at his side, aching to reach out but too afraid to try.

He closed the door softly behind you.

Your eyes scan the room, and it hits you all at once—everything’s a mess. Clothes are strewn carelessly over the couch, an empty chip bag crumpled on the kitchen counter, dishes piling up in the sink. The air feels heavy, stagnant, like the windows haven’t been opened in weeks.

And then your gaze shifts—to the open door on the right. Your room.

Your breath catches as you take it in. The bed is unmade, the sheets tangled in a way that’s unmistakable.

He’s been sleeping there. Beomgyu. In your room. In your bed.

"Uh," Beomgyu starts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, it's… kind of a mess."

You nod stiffly, not meeting his eyes. "It's okay."

The sound of your voice makes him freeze. It’s been so long since he’s heard it—too long. His chest tightens, but before he can savor it, your next words come like a knife to his heart. "I'm not going to be here for long anyway."

His brows furrow, panic flashing across his face. "Wh-why?" he stammers, his voice breaking. "I mean—"

You cut him off, extending the envelope toward him with trembling hands. "Let’s…" You swallow hard, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. "Let’s get a divorce."

Beomgyu stares at you, his mind reeling. The hope that had bloomed in his chest when he saw you standing at his door clashes violently with the reality of your words. His lips part, but no sound comes at first. Finally, he whispers, "Why?"

He can’t stop himself. The panic is overwhelming. "I went to your house every day," he says, his voice breaking. "Every single day, Y/N. I wanted to make this work. I—I sent you messages, I tried everything. Do you…" He swallows hard, his throat tight. "Do you not love me anymore?" He knows he sounds pathetic, but he doesn’t care. The speeches he’d rehearsed in his head dissolve into nothing, overtaken by the fright clawing at him.

Your breath hitches, and when you speak, your voice is cold, trembling with barely contained emotion. "I don’t care if I love you, Beomgyu. I don’t care if it feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest, or if it feels like I’m dying inside." You take a shaky breath, your grip tightening on the envelope. "I want a divorce. And when it’s done, you’ll never see me again."

Beomgyu flinches like you’ve struck him, his knees nearly buckling. He shifts uncomfortably, his hands shaking at his sides. "Is this still about Ji-won?" he asks hesitantly, and the way you flinch answers him before your words can.

He swallows hard, his voice growing more frantic. "It’s true, Y/N. It’s true, that I cheated. I kissed her, but as soon as it happened, I pushed her away." He presses a trembling hand to his chest. "It didn’t mean anything—it was a mistake, a horrible mistake, and I hate myself for it every single day. But please…" His voice cracks, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Please, give me a chance."

You shake your head, a sob breaking free despite how hard you’re trying to hold it together. "It’s too late, Beomgyu," you whisper, your voice trembling as your hands shake. You open your hands, and try to give the ring back. "Too much has happened. We can’t go back."

Beomgyu doesn’t take it. He just stands there, staring at the ring in your palm, tears streaming down his face. He knows. If he takes it, it’s over. If he takes it, you’ll be gone for good, out of his life forever.

"I can’t," he whispers, his voice broken. "I can’t take it."

He won’t take the ring, so he takes your hand and pulled you to him, kissing your lips fervently and enduring the slam of your fists against his body and chest. It was all him; it was all his fault. He is an emotional wreck who doesn’t know what to do and how to contain his feelings.

“Beomgyu—” you gasped, your voice breaking as you pushed at his chest. He didn’t let go, his hands cupping your face, fingers brushing against your jaw like you were something fragile and sacred. His touch was shaky, his breathing uneven as his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

His movements were hurried, frantic, as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. In one swift motion, he lifted you, his steps unsteady as he carried you to the bedroom. Your bedroom. The air felt heavy as he laid you down on the mattress—his mattress now, the one that carried his scent.

“Wait—,” you said weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt, your voice trembling as much as your resolve. But even as you pushed against him, your lips didn’t stop moving from kissing him back. His hands moved to your shoulders, then slid down to your waist, pulling you to him. You never knew that lips could talk without uttering a word until he declared his love for you through kisses. You let yourself melt under his touch.

Your hands, which had been pushing him away moments before, now found his shoulders for balance as he pressed you back into the bed. The mattress creaked beneath you, and you hated how your body still remembered him—how it responded to him like no time had passed at all.

His breaths were ragged, syncing with your every moan as his tongue tangled with yours, hungry and desperate. You had missed him—every part of him. That truth burned inside you as your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer, urging him on. His body pressed against yours, grinding to yours, while his hands roamed over your skin, igniting every nerve he touched. His lips trailed downward, leaving soft kisses that melted into your flesh, a path leading straight to your core.

He stripped you of every barrier, leaving you bare under his gaze. His eyes shimmered with something between adoration and hunger as they traced your body. You hadn’t realized how powerless you were against him until your legs parted, welcoming him. He looked at you like you were sacred, like you were his entire world.

“Don’t leave me…” he whispered between kisses, his voice breaking in a way that made your heart ache. Tears pricked your eyes because you wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him. His hands explored further, his fingers reaching for your clit, pinching softly then roughly, coaxing sounds from your lips that you didn’t know you were capable of. You trembled beneath him, gasping and crying out as he whispered confessions into your skin.

His mouth was poetry, speaking without syllables. His kisses, his touch—every movement of his lips and tongue—proclaimed what he hadn’t said out loud. Your body gave in, melting under the weight of his devotion, your mind consumed by him.

“Don’t leave me again, please,” he murmured as he positioned himself, slowly sliding into you. A low, guttural sound escaped him as he felt you, tight and warm, pulling him deeper. He missed you so much that he's sure he'll come right there and then. His face buried itself in the curve of your neck, and his words spilled out—apologies, regrets.

"Please," His touch was gentle, even as his thrusts inside you grew more desperate. He cradled your head, kissed away your tears, and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m in love with you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’s always been you.”

“I love you…” he murmured, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss as you both unravelled together, bodies trembling in unison. Your thighs clenched tightly around his waist, and he repeated the words softly into your ear, like a prayer he needed you to hear.

"Beomgyu," You whispered his name and it made tears well up in his eyes. His hand gently pushed the damp strands of hair from your face, and he pressed tender kisses along your cheeks, your temple, and your jaw. When he noticed your tears, he wiped them away without hesitation, his touch careful and soothing.

“Shh, angel,” he whispered, pulling you against his chest, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away. His lips brushed the crown of your head, and his hand moved in calming strokes up and down your back. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

You had come here to end it. To finally say the words that would close this chapter for good. You’d rehearsed it in your mind, telling yourself you’d leave with your head held high.

But all of that clarity blurred with every kiss he gave you, every whisper of your name that fell from his lips. Every I love you, over and over again, spoken like a spell meant to undo you. And it did. The walls you had worked so hard to build these past seven months—brick by painstaking brick—began to crack and crumble.

And when he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you like he couldn’t bear to let go, you felt yourself falter completely. Because no matter how much resolve you thought you had, it was never enough when it came to him.

Two fractured bodies came together, love-making to each other to chase away all the scars and time passed.

The papers meant to sever—to declare the ending—lay discarded on the floor, forgotten.

The brightness of the room stings your eyes as they flutter open. You blink, disoriented, your chest tightening with a familiar weight. Panic creeps up, sharp and unforgiving. He must have left. He must have slipped out of bed again, leaving you to wake up alone.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Beomgyu’s voice is soft, tinged with concern as he gently cradles your face in his hands. He had woken up before you, the morning light spilling across the room, but leaving the bed felt impossible. Not when you were curled so closely against him, your bodies still tangled under the warmth of the sheets.

He stayed, wrapping himself around you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms holding you. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent that now feels like home. It was quiet—so quiet—until he felt the faint tremble on your body. His grip tightened instinctively, his voice barely above a whisper as he called out to you again. “Y/N,"

You blinked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. Turning your head, your eyes met his—heavy-lidded and soft with sleep. His arms tightened around your waist. A shaky breath escaped your lips, your chest tight as tears welled in your eyes. You tried to hold them back, but they came anyway.

Beomgyu’s thumb brushed against your cheek, catching the first tear as it slipped down. He didn’t miss a thing. His gaze traced every flicker of emotion on your face. He opened his mouth, ready to ask what was wrong again, but you spoke first,

“You finally stayed.”

Your words made him froze. Guilt settled heavy in his chest, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His forehead pressed against yours, lips hovered so close to yours.

“I won’t ever leave. Every day, you’ll wake up, and I’ll be here. Right by your side.”

Beomgyu was different—so different it made your heart ache in the best way.

He was there, every single step, helping you out of bed like it was second nature. You had to practically fight for the simple dignity of showering alone, and even then, he lingered just outside the door, making sure you were okay.

And when it was his turn to ask for something, “Please cook for me again,” he’d said, his voice begging.

So you did. You made the soup—the very first one you’d ever cooked for him back in college. As the soup simmered, Beomgyu started to talk. He told you about Ji-won, about his unexpected interaction with Sunghoon, and how he’d rejected Ji-won long before he even knew the full truth. He spoke with an honesty that left no room for doubt, his words meant only for you.

When your mind wandered, when your eyes drifted away, Beomgyu noticed. He always noticed. His fingers would gently close around yours, pulling you back to him. He’d press soft kisses to your palms, his touch saying more than words ever could: Stay with me. I’m here.

“This is too good,” Beomgyu groaned after his first sip of the soup, you know see his face lighting up like what Sunghoon told you about. His hands cradled the bowl, and you couldn’t help but notice the glint of his ring—the one he refused to take off. It made you looked down at your own hand, there it was—your ring, the one Beomgyu fought for last night.

You took a small sip, letting the warmth spread through you. But it did little to settle the weight in your stomach. There was still something left unsaid, something you hadn’t found the courage to tell him yet. “Beomgyu,”

He squeezes your hand—the one he hasn’t let go of, even while eating. His arm stretches across the table to hold yours, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Hmm?” he hums.

“Back in the hospital…” you begin, your voice trembling with of what you’re about to say. You feel his gaze shift to you, “I had a… I had a miscarriage.” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to continue. “I lost our child.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your eyes fixed on the half-eaten soup in front of you. The warmth in his hand disappears, and your heart sinks. When you hear the sound of his chair scraping against the floor, dread floods your chest. He’s walking away.

But then he’s there—beside you. He pulls out the chair next to yours and sits down. When he leans forward to pull you into his arms, it’s like the air returns to your lungs. He guides your face to rest against his shoulder. His arms come around you, holding you close.

“I know,” he whispers, “Soobin told me.”

Your breath catches, and your chest feels both heavy and light at the same time. “I went to him every day, you know,” he continues, his hand running soothing circles on your back. “It’s hard not to. I couldn’t stay away. He… he got me.”

You exhale shakily, your body relaxing into his. The faint memory of flowers on your baby's grave—ones you couldn’t remember bringing yourself—floats to the surface. It all makes sense now. Beomgyu had been there, mourning as you did.

Your hand never leaves Beomgyu’s as he drives.

The road feels both too short and too long, leading you to the place you’ve come to know too well. It’s green here—peaceful and impossibly beautiful in a way that feels both comforting and heartbreaking. He parks the car, steps out, and circles around to open your door. His hand finds yours again as you step out, and together, you walk the path you’ve walked before.

In your other hand, you hold the small bouquet—a gift for the little one who rests here now, your little angel. You kneel gently, placing the flowers at the grave. Beomgyu crouches beside you, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the stone.

Beomgyu’s voice breaks the silence, trembling as he whispers, “Daddy’s here with Mommy now, just like I promised you.” His words catch in his throat, and he pauses, his head bowing slightly as he tries to gather himself. “I told you I could do it,” he continues, his voice shaking, raw with emotion. “Daddy’s so sorry for everything. I promise I’ll take care of your Mommy. I’ll take care of her, I swear. You just play up there, okay? Don’t worry about us. Mommy and Daddy love you more than anything.”

Your heart aches at his words, and you press closer to his side. His arm finds its way around your shoulders, holding you tight. You cling to him just as fiercely, your bodies leaning into one another, trying not to fall apart in front of the greatest what-if of your lives.

I can’t wait to see you, wife. Almost there. I love you.

The corners of your lips tugged into a smile as you read your husband’s text. It had been a week since you decided to reconcile. And in those seven days, he had kept every promise, showing you with quiet consistency that he meant every word.

Reaching for your perfume, you lightly spritzed it onto your pulse points. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric of your dress, a small flutter of nerves in your chest.

The past still lingered—it wasn’t something that could just disappear. There were nights you woke up gasping, caught in the grip of nightmares. But the smoke always seemed to lift the moment you heard his voice, the way he whispered comfort like he could chase away the darkness with nothing but his presence. It was a start.

You spent the weekend at your parents’ house. When you told them you were giving your marriage another chance, their eyes had softened, and they gave you their support. And now, here you were, waiting for him—your husband—who was on his way to take you on your first date.

Married for almost three years, and are going out for your first date. The date he’d practically begged for, pouting for hours until you finally agreed, because he said he wanted it.

A beginning.

You make your way down the stairs. When you reach the bottom, your eyes land on Yeonjun, lounging on the couch, his fingers absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t notice you at first, but the moment he does, he sets it down without hesitation.

Walking over to him, you don’t give him a chance to say anything. Your hands gently cup his face, and before he can react, you press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Yeonjun,” you say softly, standing in front of him now, your gaze grateful. “Thank you. For everything.”

Your words seem to light him up. A smile spreads across his face, and he attempts one of his signature winks—a clumsy one at that. It’s so bad it makes you both break into laughter, the sound echoing warmly in the room. “Anything for you, Y/N,” he replies, he stands up and asks for another hug from you.

"Take care, always, okay?" You nod to his shoulders. Grateful to this man who did things for you, without asking anything back.

After saying your goodbyes to Yeonjun, you step outside, your eyes sweeping across the open space in front of the large doors.

Beomgyu leans casually against his sleek black velvet car, the deep color almost absorbing the light, while Soobin stands beside him, mid-conversation. There’s a quiet ease between them, the kind that makes you pause. When they notice you approaching, Soobin pats Beomgyu’s back, their exchange winding down as they mutter their farewells.

They look like... brothers.

The sight tugs at your heart. When you told Soobin about Beomgyu’s promises, you weren’t sure how he’d react, but it felt like he already knew. “He’s the only one who doesn’t realise how much he loves you,” Soobin had said, his voice certain. “I saw it—starting back at the hospital. It was all over his face.”

Now, as you reach him, you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug that speaks more than words ever could. “I love you, Soobin.” you say, the words soft but full of conviction.

Soobin holds you for a beat longer than usual, his hand resting lightly on your back. He feels nothing but peace in his chest.

Maybe now, he can start chasing his own happiness too.

Beomgyu watches silently as you pull away from Soobin, his gaze never leaving you. When your eyes meet his and a soft smile spreads across your lips, his chest tightens. You’re beautiful. So achingly beautiful that it feels like his heart might splinter under your stare.

When you reach him, he leans down without a word, brushing a quick kiss against your lips. He knows he needs this. He knows he needs you.

Because without you, there’s no him.

The day felt like stepping back in time, a snapshot of a younger, simpler you.

It started with the movies, where Beomgyu would lean in for quick, stolen kisses during the darker scenes, his grin impossible to resist. Then came the arcade—a chaotic mix of flashing lights and laughter. He was relentless in his mission to win you a comically oversized teddy bear, to the point of nearly bribing the poor guy running the booth. When he finally succeeded, he held it up like a trophy, his smile as wide as the bear itself. For a moment, it felt like you were back in college, like this could’ve been one of your carefree dates from those days.

Now, you’re crammed into a photo booth together, squishing shoulder to shoulder as the timer counts down. Two grown, married adults pulling silly faces at the camera like teenagers. The faint hum of the machine is drowned out by your shared giggles, and you can feel the curious stares of actual teenagers nearby. They’re probably imagining your life is perfect, the kind of love they dream about. If only they knew how far from perfect it’s been—how much work it’s taken to get here.

When the photo strip finally slides out, Beomgyu grabs it first, holding it up with a burst of laughter. “Look at you, sweetheart,” he says, pointing to one particularly goofy expression you made. His laughter is infectious, and soon you’re both doubled over, bumping to each other as you cackle uncontrollably.

Beomgyu—who always seems so composed, so maddeningly serious—looks nothing like that version of himself when he laughs. He’s wide-eyed and carefree, his joy as pure as a child’s, and it’s beautiful. It heals you. Every day with him feels like this—a discovery, a new layer to peel back, something new to fall in love with.

“God, I love you,” he says suddenly, making your heart flutter.

“I love you too,” you whisper, the smile on your face softening as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. The squeals from the teenagers outside are instant, and you roll your eyes, laughing as you glance at them—your accidental audience, swooning over the two of you like you’re straight out of a rom-com, like they’ve just witnessed something magical.

And maybe they have.

It doesn’t matter if it’s slow, or if it took longer than it should have. Life isn’t perfect, and neither are people. Everyone deserves a second chance—just like the one you gave your marriage. Just like the one it deserved. It may have started off messy in ways you couldn’t imagine fixing, but that didn’t mean it had to end the same way.

The road ahead still feels long, but you’re learning to let go. Of the doubt that whispered you’d never make it. Of the pain. Of the mistakes and the past that clings to you. Even the scars—the ones you thought would never fade. Letting them go is the only way forward, the only way to move on. Only then can you begin again.

You glance at Beomgyu, his fingers laced with yours, his grip gentle as he leads you out of this place. His head tilts slightly as he looks back at you, and there it is—that boyish, cheeky smile that has the power to make your heart skip. All you have to do is surrender.

This surrender—is not in defeat, but in trust. Trust in him. Trust with his promises. Trust in the hope of something better. Trust in yourself.

You’ll be okay.

THE END.

taglist: I love you @beombunni @lovingbeomgyudayone @virtaideen @hyukascampfire @fancypeacepersona @bamgeutori @lilbrorufr @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @soobinbunnie5 @pagelets @yoseicour @baekberrie @blossommi @younbeanz @soohashits @brrytears @shycreationdreamland @notevenheretbh1

[sparklykat-hideoutenthusiast]

I just binge watched TADC....

I cried during episode 3 😭😭😭

I love it sm actually. I might make fanart! :D

Kinda spoilers and my opinions on each character in the tags:

[slut4sugu]

𝐎𝐇 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇? — ejirou kirishima x black!fem reader

me and your mama + childish gambino

𐙚˚ including: kinda pleasure!dom kiri? , edging, somewhat car sex, oral (female receiving), choking, squirting, dirty talk, slight spanking, spitting, lowkey nasty sex, kinda long fic 𐙚˚ description: after an annoying situation reader discovers how much she likes her boyfriend being a little rough.. 𐙚˚ authors note: didn’t really proof read much, took me a while to finish this, I hope y’all like it! 😭🤍

MDNI!!

It was honestly a fun experience dating kirishima but sometimes it would be a little challenging having to deal with all the girls that would come and try their luck with him when you went attached to his buff arm. But kiri was such a sweetheart about it, being able to tell when a girl was coming up to shoot her shot and would quickly shoot her down. Politely, but firmly.

However you weren’t really used to guys hitting on you, despite what kiri would say about how breath taking you are you never really got cat called or anything. So when kiri had gone off for 2 minutes to say hi to denki, you weren’t expecting a guy to come up to you while you were looking for some heels.

“Wow you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Looking up you saw a slightly shorter guy than your boyfriend talking to you, immediately you felt uncomfortable. Regretting the tube top you wore that day that displayed your chest, “I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend.” You tried to go back to looking for your heels, ignoring the stranger before hearing close footsteps come to your left side. “Oh really? Then where is he, yknow girls like you are kind of the hottest type always play hard to get.” He came around the shoe rack and attempted to back you into a corner, your eyes widened in fear as you noticed how close he was getting. Though regained whatever composure you had and raised your voice, “Look I already told yo stupid ass I had a boyfriend, now leave me the hell alone.” The guy apparently not appreciating that looked as tho he was about to say something before you felt a familiar strong chest behind you. “Are you deaf or stupid, she said leave her alone asshole.”

you knew it was kiri but you had never heard him like this before, serious and stern yet keeping that calm voice about him. You hated to admit but dispute the fear you had a second ago you were kind of turned on, watching the creep grit his teeth before scurrying away in fear was satisfying to say the least. Turning around you faced your boyfriend who’s face immediately softened and quickly wrapped you up in his arms, “did he touch you? are you okay baby?” You returned the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing it softly. “He didn’t touch me, I’m fine eji I promise.” Pulling back from the hug your hands slid down his chest as you pressed a comforting kiss to his cheek, that sweet smile came back on his handsome face once again. Making your heart swell, “you wanna keep looking for those shoes or…?” You never said no faster in your life.

As you both made your way out of the mall hand in hand you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to back when kiri confronted the creep, the bass in voice his complete personality switch..it was hot. Would he ever talk to you like that? Would he ever..punish you? So many thoughts raced through your head not even realizing you were already your boyfriend’s act until his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “whatcha thinking about baby?” That handsome grin once again his face taking a glance at you before retiring his gaze back to the wheel, as he slid his hand onto your upper thigh you began to say, “Well uhm just about how you were talking to the guy at the store..I’ve never seen or heard you like that before.” You said in a slightly hushed tone, your eyes flickering from his face to your lap.

Thinking it scared you, kiri began to rub circles with his thumb into your plush thigh, “Baby I’m sorry if I scared you, it’s just.. it pissed me off to see that asshole mess with you like that.” You smiled softly, you were lucky to find someone so kind and protective you felt almost dirty; Thinking about how close his thumb was circling on your inner thigh to your core. “I know eji but it didn’t scare me..actually.”

You confess, bitting your lip in slight regret. Your eyes now on the passenger window. Kiri knew you far too well to not know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours at this moment, “What are you trying to say then honey?” He asked now with a slight smirk on his face, as his big calloused hand traveled up further now going slightly under your small green earthy skirt.

you stifled your slight gasp and instead tried to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “W-well uhm. The way you were talking to him was a little-!” Letting out a soft moan you felt this time at the feeling of kiris fingers now playing with your clit under your skirt. You felt kiri an eyes on you as his fingers circled your sensitive cunt. You whimpered and shifted in your seat. Gripping kiris forearm, your acrylics digging into his skin slightly as you subconsciously spread your legs wider, “a little what? Use your words f’me honey.” Your sweet boyfriend’s voice now a little stern yet still flirty you felt your clothes cunt dampen at his words. His side profile wasn’t helping either.

His hair was down and a bit grown out, pretty and fluffy contrast to his slightly intimidating appearance. Silvers rings adorning his fingers, as his left hand gripped the steering wheel with a certain intensity. His eyes now covered over in a film or lust and amusement as his gaze met yours. Gazing over your thick thighs that he can’t wait to mark up when he gets you home, your pretty eyes looking up at ejirou with that ‘fuck me look’.. If you weren’t careful you were about to get railed in the car at this rate.

“it turned me on, hearing you t-talk to that creep like that and i was kinda curious if you would ever talk to me like that..” You confessed shyly, letting out an airy laugh the Ejirou looked at you with pure curiosity and lust as he pulled up at a red light. “..Are you saying you want me to be more rougher honey?” The sight almost made you loose it right there. The light of the setting sun casting an unfairly beautiful glow on his toned skin, kiri’s low yet flirty and curious eyes never leaving yours, the smell of his cologne overstimulating your senses even more, It was all too much.

You nodded shyly, before he corrected you pinching your clit as a warning, “Words princess, say what you want.” You whined in pleasure, squeezing your thighs together as you avoids his gaze. Fighting with yourself mentally for a moment. As embarrassing as it was to admit it you wouldn’t help but leak at for what’s to come when you both get home, so in a hushed embarrassed tone you confessed. “I want you to be more rougher with me eji.”

𐙚˚

“I love you so much, but I’m about to fuck you like a slut okay?”

Those were the words your sweet boyfriend whispered to you before forcing you face down ass up on your shared bed, your puffy clothed cunt exposed to him after he ripped off your soak panties. “God you smell so good, this pussy is leaking f’me.” He spanked your cunt a few times causing you to moan and jolt, “p-please baby.” You were so desperate as you practically wiggled your ass in front of your boyfriend, but your attempts only got you a slap on the rear. “Ah ah ah, you know better than that if you’re gonna beg do it right slut.” Kiri’s voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as you whined.

“Please..daddy. I want your tongue please.” You pleaded with your boyfriend, you wanted his dick so badly it hurt but at this moment anything would suffice. “Mmm you sound so pretty when you beg angel , alright I’ll eat out this slutty little pussy. But if you try to run I’ll stop got it?” You nodded before receiving two slaps on your ass, “Got it?” You were quick to correct yourself “Y-yes daddy.”

“That’s my girl. Now spread your legs a little wider f’me.” You did as told, exposing more of your dripping cunt to the red head. Kiri then got on his knees pulled you a bit closer to his face before devouring your cunt. You moaned out in pleasure and relief as your hands gripped the black silk sheets. It was pure bliss, after craving any sexual release all day this was heaven. Feeling ejirou a tongue lick inside your wet hole was euphoric.

As if you weren’t turned on enough, he'd whisper little things in between desperate licks. "such a pretty pussy fuck.." The lewd sounds of moans and the squelches of your cunt echoed throughout the bedroom, your knuckles soon starting to turn white as that familiar knot in your stomach began to unravel. The sounds of kiri slurping your cunt, his sweet moans and whimpers as he rutted his hips into the mattress. It was all too much, too good.

Ejirou felt his body heat up as the image of you cumming all over his face flickered in his mind. He knew he was supposed to be more rougher with you tonight but the way you moaned out his name and pleaded for more was so hot. You weren’t making it easy to not want to meet your every plea. “Ba-daddy m’finna cum please more.” You begged. You could feel your climax approaching a few more licks and..

You felt his tongue leave your cunt, the loss of it made you whine, “Not yet pretty girl, not yet.” You were almost mad at him, you were so close to cumming. “Eji please, why’d you stoppp I need more-!” You felt another slap on the ass and suddenly a hand coming around to grip your throat as you felt ejirous chest press into your back. “I said not yet, slut. I’m calling the shots here okay?” His voice made your clit throb, you almost moaned at the feeling of his big hand around your tiny throat. Eji had never choked you before, but god did it feel amazing. You hummed in response, “M’sorry yes daddy.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before standing up to take off his pants and boxers, “now that she’s all loosened up..you ready to take it pretty girl?” You frantically nodded, “yes daddy I am, p-please fuck me.”

𐙚˚

you knew that you wouldn't be able to last long if he kept pounding deep you like this, your back arched to perfection as he hit that sweet gummy spot inside of you. Kiri’s voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as he felt your slick begin to spread all over his thighs. your eyes lost focus, as your mind practically went blank as you began to fuck yourself back onto his dick. Ejirou couldn't help a devilish smirk from growing on his features, your fucked out moans and whimpers almost making him ease up on you, but almost wasn't enough...

“You’re so beautiful when you look fucked out like this, fuck a pretty little slut drunk on dick.” Kiri’s dirty talk was driving you up the wall, hearing him say such naughty things while looking down at you with those lust driven eyes was unfair. His hand went for your throat again gripping it firmly as he spoke, “Open your mouth for me princess.”

You do as your told as kiri spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. It felt so nasty and sexy, you never knew sex with kiri could be this much fun, you swallowed his spit sticking out your tongue to show proof which made the redheads cock twitch inside of you, “Shit your so fucking hot, I can’t hmm go slow anymore baby I gotta fuck you.”

Stopping ejirou takes a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. Placing the pillow under your lower back as he shoves your knees to your shoulders. The new position now folding you in half, the pussy drunk look on kiri’s face was pornographic. “Take it f’me baby, I want you to cum so fucking hard you see stars.”

Your eyes roll back as the new position helps drive kiri’s cock deeper into your spongy cunt. His girthy and pretty dick slammed into you with faster strokes. You swear he’s in your stomach. The way he grips your hips as his thrust into you, the sound of skin slapping and kiris pretty moans were all too much. So when the head of his cock pushed against that sweet gummy spot inside you, it resulted in squirt gushing from your cunny onto the both of you.

"That’s it pretty girl make mess f’me, gimme that cum-”Ejirou babbles, watching you frantically nod your head. Your pussy spasms around him, his moans growing louder as you feel his cock twitch with need. Your pussy began to grip him like a vice, seemingly wanting each drop of his cum to be pumped into your puffy pretty pussy. He whimpered as he came, burying his cock into your cunt in doing so. Filling your pretty hole up to the brim, collapsing ontop of you after.

After catching his breath kiri came down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you did so good for me princess, you okay?” You smiled sleepily as you looked up at your now sweet boyfriend, humming in response. “I’m okay eji, can we stay like this for a while tho?”

Returning your smile he littered your face with kisses, “of course sweetheart. As long as you want.”

[hughiecampbelle]

Sunder (Shiv Roy Oneshot)

Word Count: 1,566

Character/s: Shiv

A/N: This is a draft I tweaked a little. Still not 100%, but I wanted to post writing anyways, so here is it! Feedback is always appreciated!!💜💜💜

Succession Masterlist / REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You loved one another, despite it all. You loved one another through and through. You loved one another and the worst part of it? It still wasn’t enough. 

You’re doing it again. You don’t ask what. You already know. You had a habit of staring at her. More than that though. Searching her features for her feelings, her thoughts, everything she wasn’t saying. Couldn’t say. She passed you her cigarette and you took it, a peace offering, a poison to pick. The smoke never tasted so good. She wears her blue dress. New and tight in all the right places. You resist the urge to take your fingers and untie the back, the straps sliding off her shoulders, letting the top fall, eventually the whole thing crashing to the floor as you pull the zipper down. You resist the urge to move closer, fill the gap between you, to breathe in her smoke and mess up her lipstick. You resist the urge to touch her one last time. Instead you exhale, the smell intoxicating and familiar and homey, thanking her and passed it back to her. Your fingers don’t touch. She is too careful, too regimented, and you can do nothing but oblige. You know your mom is a total bitch. She nods. Of course she knows. Of course you know she knows. The things she said, about you, about her daughter. They were awful. They were angry. They were cowardly. No mother should ever speak to her child like that. She didn’t- but she stops. Didn’t what? The love of your life. Serious, and cold, and tough, and yet, none of these things. She is soft and sweet and not everyone can appreciate that about her. The duality. But you did. Or, rather, you appreciated it at one point not too long ago. The rest of her sentence drops, clatters on the hard stone and shatters into a million little pieces. You watch it dissipate before looking back at her, watching her, wondering what kind of excuse she could have come up with. They believed her uncaring, but god, were they wrong. She was spiky, sure, but it wasn’t meant to offend, it was meant to defend. Far more years than you’d like she spent picking herself up, kissing her own wounds, looking out for herself. Of course they thought she was cruel, she was acting how they thought she would, not how she was. Underestimated for merely existing. That would make anyone a little jaded. 

We should go back inside. You’re not sure who says this, only that you’re both surprised. Not yet, the other says, trying not to sound desperate. Okay. No fight. No insistence.You’re both relieved. What now? You know you’ve come to the end. After this, it would be over. There were papers waiting to be signed. Magically, they appeared on the kitchen island. Identical twins, a copy for each of you, your lawyers. Your families had an entire team on retainer, though you both preferred to hire outsiders. It was quieter this way. Supposedly, it was easier. Both parties agreed to make things amicable. It was, even now, sharing a cigarette, it was split 50/50. Neither of you made the first move. You checked every night, every morning, as you were coming and going, but the lines at the bottom remained unscathed. Free of ink and decision. You loved her signature. It was delicate, it was sharp, it sliced you open every time you saw it. Her full name. You never called her Shiv. A name as beautiful as hers deserved to be said in full. She didn’t seem to mind, she never corrected you. There was no need. Her father only used it in anger. You could never be angry at her, not now, not ever. She knew that. You hoped she still did. 

Her mother’s wedding wasn’t something either of you had been planning on attending. In the end, she needed someone, and you were still that person. You would have given anything to get out of that apartment, away from those papers, the emails and memos and missed calls. Your lawyer wanted to go over your assets. That could wait. You couldn’t leave her side, not now, not to face her mother alone. You weren’t in denial. You weren’t stupid. You lived in this reality, you understood the consequences to your actions. Still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t put off your responsibilities til you got back. She didn’t bring up, the deflecting, the aversion, the avoidance. Neither did you. You were in agreement: this divorce was better if neither of you made a decision. It was easier. This marriage wasn’t broken. It wasn’t fractured, there were no cracks in the foundation, there were no faults. There were no secret affairs or lying or cheating. This was not a gruesome death. There was no blood, no gore. You imagined it as quick and painless. Someone dying in their sleep. Warm, and safe, and final. Peaceful. There would be an open casket. There would be mourners. There will be a burial under a tree, you’d like to think, a weeping willow. Things faded. It wasn’t the fault of one of you. You tried to make it work. You did the best you could. That would always be how you told this story: you did your best, you and her, and when you realized it wasn’t enough, you went your separate ways. 

 You never wanted it to play out like this, though you were realistic in your expectations. Neither of you had grown up in homes that placed love on a pedestal. There were no happily ever afters. Marriage was, like all things in life, a business transaction. A deal, a commitment, between two people. Not a promise or a vow, something more surgical. Sterile. Sometimes it was used to procreate. Sometimes it was for appearances. Sometimes, though you knew none of the people involved would ever admit to it, it was a shield against loneliness. Your parents, her parents, none of their marriages ended well. You understood there was a cycle you could either break or repeat. There were no gray areas. You would have preferred not to repeat, but you couldn’t tie yourself to her, all dead weight. You couldn’t trap her into something neither of you were particularly fond of keeping alive. You still loved her. And she still loved you. But sometimes love wasn’t enough. It’s not how the fairytales go. It’s not how the movies play out. Where’s the fun in that? The happy couple walks down the aisle. They slip on the rings. They kiss. And then, the credits role. 

Viewers don’t realize there’s more to it than that. There is effort, and disagreements, and hurt, and mundanity. There are bills to be paid and careers that need tending and complicated family relationships. You and Siobhan were still considered newlyweds. If it wasn’t so hypocritical, your mother would have called it a moral and spiritual failure. You’re not making it to your first anniversary. Your marriage was in it’s infancy and already you were calling it quits. Her mother would have a lot to say once it’s finalized and you break the new,s separately, to everyone. By then, you won’t be around to protect her. You’ll go your separate ways, though you have a feeling you’ll cross paths again. You’ll be in one another’s lives. 

Do you want custody of Roman? She offers you a small smile. You know it is sincere. Still, it’s too early to joke about. Too new. Too fresh. You still wear your rings. She looks just as she did at your wedding. How could it possibly be over? It’s a thought that crosses your mind every time you look at her, every time you catch yourself saying her name. How could it not? This voice is quieter, it is defeated, but equally respected. You know they are both right. You sit in your silence, comfortable, serene, and you wait. Wait for her brothers to come looking for her, for her mother to whine to her, for someone to interrupt you two. There should be more of a fight. There should be more life. But there isn’t. You are not throwing in the towel, you are coming to terms with a great loss. That looks different for everyone. For some, there is thrown furniture and words that can’t be taken back. For others, there is a great hostility, a removing of oneself, hissing and spitting and alienation. It’s not like that for you. She will always be a part of you. She will always have a place at the table. You’ve made that clear. The feeling has been reciprocated. There is no explosive ending. It will be quiet, but not hushed. You will announce it on your own terms. You will carry on without her, at least for a little while. People will ask their questions and make their assumptions, but only you and her will ever know what really happened. In the end, it will be devastating. It will take their air from your lungs. It will be the worst thing that has ever happened to you, losing her, losing your Siobhan.

The grief will come all at once. For now though, you will sit with her and take her in and wait to be interrupted.

[opultea]

Genshin Character Interactions I'd Love to See

(AKA some headcanons)

Kazuha & Razor:

Seems like a random combo but hear me out:

They both have a connection to nature and especially smells

Imagine Razor meeting Kazuha for the first time

"Smell like... cool breeze,"

"Thank you, my friend, you carry the scent of rock warmed in afternoon sunlight"

Instant besties

Razor's eyes light up, and whenever he's with Kazuha he likes to point out smells even more then usual because he feels like they're bonding

Although Kazuha uses a lot of words and phrases that Razor doesn’t understand, the poet is very patient, and is always willing to teach his fellow nature affiliate something new

Razor feels like he's gained a new teacher, and observes the way Kazuha seems so connected to nature but is still very much human, which helps the wolf-boy explore that balance in himself

Kazuha admires the simplicity and honesty with which Razor carries himself, never needing more than what the world provides him

Also Kazuha always understands what Razor's trying to say or do no matter how few words he uses

Kaveh & Bennett

Bad luck babies

They find out their mutual bad luck when Kaveh off-handedly complains about his debt, and Bennett immediately goes to comfort him, saying how he’s sure it’ll get better eventually, and hey! Everyone has avalanches chase them sometimes, and the occasional lightning strike to the skull!

Kaveh sighs: “Thanks, but I don’t think any metaphor will equate to my problems,”

“What do you mean metaphors?”

…

“You were using metaphors, right? Right, Bennett?”

He was not

But I imagine that once they get talking about their luck and especially their attitudes towards it, they really find a lot of interest in each other

Kaveh would hugely admire how Bennett always bounces back, always smiling and never afraid to keep going and keep feeling despite all the terrible occurrences he goes through each day

Bennett finds such solidarity in knowing an adult who’s plagued with bad luck, who is still incredibly successful. Bennett admires how Kaveh is renowned and famed throughout Sumeru for his work, and is a kind soul in his daily life, even with the troubles he has. Even though Bennett doesn’t think he needs to be famous, it’s nice to have real proof that even if he’s unlucky, he could still lead a great life

Klee & Xiao

Xiao would obviously be a bit standoffish at first

Klee views him as another one of those weird adults that doesn’t smile or talk, but she still trusts him innately

I like to think Klee is genuinely a good judge of character, and even if she finds someone weird, she feels that it doesn’t mean they can’t be a great person

Klee once asks Xiao to hold Dodoco for her while she tries to catch a frog in some mud, since Albedo’s always telling her to be careful with things she cares a lot about

Xiao is slightly stunted by the request and the bright smile that comes with it, but nods dutifully and carefully takes the little plush in his hands

Klee runs off to play, and when she gets back she’s more than pleased to see that Xiao is holding Dodoco to his chest, cupping him carefully and keeping him upright

Some adults just don’t respect Dodoco like Xiao does (Klee has had the terrible experience of people tucking Dodoco under their arm like a book! Not a good holder; one star review)

Upon returning to reclaim her friend, Klee gives Xiao as big a hug as her tiny arms can muster, and though Xiao’s eyes widen and his shoulder stiffen, he lets the small girl embrace him

Klee appreciates the respect Xiao shows her, even though she's small and young

Xiao is careful of how his karmic debt might affect this innocent child but lets himself relax at how Klee unabashedly loves the world. It inspires him to try loving more openly

Venti & Kaveh

So what if I’ve already put Kaveh on this list this is my post I do what I want

Sadge alcoholics with ✨dramatic tendencies ✨

You know they have the best stories tho

When these two come together, every room they enter is a party or every room they enter is a crying support room filled with regrets

Either way the room is filled with wine

Their energy is contagious and they can lead crowds of people to begin partying on a random Tuesday afternoon

But when they're in their feels, they look at each other with the understanding and empathy that they each wish they could gain from others in their lives

When Venti's soft voice carries out a melancholy ballad, Kaveh is the first to start crying

When Kaveh begins drunk rambling about his life, Venti's the one to pat his back, smiling softly despite the deep and old emotion his eyes hold

They hold a mutual and quiet understanding of the simultaneous pain and wonderment that living can bring that I think would be really interesting to see play out

Jean & Kokomi

I feel like if they met initially it would be all business

Discussions on foreign trade, sharing experiences from issues that have arisen in the past

All very professional

That is until either of them slips just a tiny bit about how freaking tired they are, and the other perks up and starts trying to subtly find out more

“Hm, it is a great honour to serve the people of Watatsumi Island, although I wish I had the energy to do more in a day,”

*cue Jean realising she may have just found an overworked buddy*

“Yes, I feel the same about the Knights of Favonius, there is always more to accomplish, though Lisa is always telling me to take more time to myself, although I don’t know how I could.”

“Exactly!” *cough* “I mean, yes, I understand how worrisome that must be.”

They silently sip their tea simultaneously, carefully fixing their posture

And then suddenly begin ranting and confiding in each other about how much they always have on their plate

🎶You’re just like me, I’m just like you~

Overall very cute relationship, they start off distanced by duty, and then become besties once they realise their common ground

Imagine them each making sure the other isn’t working too hard!

And they always listen to each other even if they don’t listen to others who tell them to take breaks because they know the other understands completely just how much they have to do

[couhawla]

I have played a couple hours so far and have a few thoughts:

(POTENTIAL SPOILERS!!!)

the character creator took a bit to get the hang of it and I think it could’ve been executed better, though it still is better than inquisition’s imo

the changes you make in the cc are so minimal at times, I had to go from one extreme to another to even see what I was changing lol

The hair is amazing and beautiful, though a lot of them do still have that big old forehead that makes your character look like they’re balding, but that can be overlooked overall

I was able to make my inquisitor actually look asian, which I struggled a lot with it inquisition, so congrats to asian ppl on that one

I personally don’t dislike the art style and I think many people will come to tolerate/like it once they’ve given it some playtime. It really isn’t that jarring

I do think that if veilguard was set in ferelden, most would even like the art style. The change in setting and style can be a bit much and make the game not feel truly dragon age, as we’ve spent so much time in ferelden

I’m not sure if I like the way Harding is written and voice acted. She doesn’t have much screen time in inquisition, but I always read her as a headstrong and solid woman. In veilguard (so far) she kind of comes across as unsure and too dependent. There were moments were the old Harding shines through, but I’m not convinced by her yet. I’m keeping my mind open though.

Honestly, despite being the first companion you recruit, idk how to feel about Neve yet. She is a baddie tho

Idk how to feel about Bellara’s American accent and the way she says elven words. She’s cute and I can see her being a character I like, but she doesn’t have a mild case of “millennial” writing

Varric hasn’t been around much as of yet, so 🤷🏾‍♀️

As a solas disliked ( and lowkey hater), I’m glad that he’s been delegated to the fade and that he hasn’t yapped my ears off. I still want to smack his bald head

The writing and dialogue are good (the voice acting is okay) so far and not as bad as that one YouTuber made it out to be, but I haven’t gotten that far into the game yet

The combat is fast and fluid. It plays exactly the way I played the previous games (I don’t like DA’s tactical gameplay, so I’ve always been the hack and slash kinda gal anyways). I really appreciate the dodge mechanic as I’m playing a mage

Overall, I’m enjoying myself but have some criticisms here and there, but I have criticisms of all dragon age games somewhere. As long as the game stays like it is rn, I’ll be happy :)

[echantedtoon]

Dragon's Treasure Ch2 Remake Of Chapter One

Y/n L/n just wanted a quiet life for herself raising pokemon in her wooded cottage and running her secret shiny haven. But there was one problem. Dragon Boy wouldn't leave you alone. Ever since your first meeting in Hammerlocke he hasn't been able to get you out of his mind. What's a dragon to do but go after the best treasure?

Impressions were important. He of all people should know that. Especially first impressions. He's always prided himself on giving the best first impressions himself. He's always liked to think of himself that way and it seemed to pay off in the end. Most of his fans interviews would describe him in many ways.  Approachable. Kind. Fun. And a few other things. Amazing and hot being the most two he's heard of. Mostly from female fans but he wouldn't deny them that or say it was wrong per say. His good reputation in the end saved him when they investigated him. He was under heavy suspicion being the gym leader who's gym was attached to the powerplant where the Chairman revived Eternatus. Honestly he had no idea what went on in there. Despite being a gym leader literally right next to the place he was never allowed inside and had no idea what was going on behind the scenes, which also helped in his testimony when proving him innocent. He won't lie he felt guilty for a long time and some people looked at him differently for a while but it seemed things were quickly returned to mostly normal. It's ok. He could deal with it. He was used to everyone's different reactions to him. Adoration. Haters. People indifferent or neutral to him. Etc. And he took it. Even if it was negative he could take it. With someone of his job and having such an important role he's learnt early on to just roll with the punches but...There was ONE time. One place. One...PERSON that gave him a reaction so different that it sent him through a loop.

He then turned to you as you paused. "Anyways. I don't think I got your name Miss??"

"Y/n." you stated flatly, "And thank you for the compliments-"

"Ah thank nothing of it." He flashed a fanged grin at you, "I know how it can be sometime meeting me n' all that but it really is no big deal-"

"Oh you're right about that." He paused stopping, blinking wide eyed at your deadpanned face mouth agape in a smile as he processed what you had bluntly but politely stated. "You do seem REALLY nice and I really appreciate all the nice things you said to me and Gloria, but I'll have to stop you right there with the flirting, Mr. Raihan. No offense to you of course, and I don't mean anything by it." You turned giving the frozen gym leader one last look before you left. "You just aren't my type. I'm sure you'll find a nice person soon tho with your looks and charms. Have a nice day."

And you left, leaving the wide eyed Dragon Type Gym Leader standing there jaw dropped and the secretary at the desk who also looked shell shocked at what she had just witnessed. ....Raihan's rotom gave a loud pokemon sound of alarm when Raihan dropped his phone with a thud onto the floor.

He had NEVER EVER met someone so..so...Different? Blunt? No no. So upfront about their feelings? Nah. He's had people literally propose to him in public ring and all. Couldn't get more upfront than that. So what was it that shocked him into staring off into space thinking about it for so long. He just couldn't get it out of him head. During that week Piers had even visited him and noticing his friend staring off. So Raihan was honest with him...to which Piers had busted out in rare laughter which really threw him off for a good moment before asking his friend what was so funny. The pale rockstar had wiped away tears chuckling for a solid few minutes before smiling at his friend.

"Dont'cha get it? Hehehe."

"Get what? Look, Man. If you know something I don't it'd sure be really helpful."

To which Piers laughed some more. "Rejection, Mate."

And a record scratch went off in the man's head. "....Rejection?"

Piers nodded. "Lemme ask ya somethin'. How many people have ya rejected in yer life?"

To which he inhaled through his fangs giving a hiss sound. "How many? Ooh. Boy. You talking 'bout online or in person? Because I lost count after my first year being gym leader."

"M'kay. Now put that question in reverse. How many people 'ave rejected your advances?"

And that was when everything clicked in his head. Ah...THAT was the word he couldn't put his finger on. Rejection. THAT'S IT! He's never been rejected like that before. It was a rare thing when he had genuinely flirted with someone and showed genuine interest. Sure. It was no secret that he play flirted with some fans and it was a part of his personality but most everyone eats it up and never outright rejected him point blank. He could count on one hand how many time it had happened. First time ever was Sonia which was one and he understood finding it worked better for them to remain friends. Then Nessa when he had a semi-crush on her back in the early gym leader days but she rejected him wanting to pursue her career of modeling without worrying about a relationship. Again valid. And the third had been....You. He hadn't even been flirting seriously yet you had rejected him bluntly and faster than anyone else combined. It was...certainly a new feeling that's for sure. Something that caught his interest and made him all the more curious about you. But overtime he shrugged it off not ever expecting to see you again and soon it was completely forgotten about and pushed towards the back of his mind. He had other things to worry about such as the gym challengers and his roles as gym leader. He had a few beat him including Piers's little sister. It was like only yesterday she was a little tyke having tea parties with her morpeko. Then you showed back up a couple months later. During that time he had to leave Hammerlocke for a meeting with Leon. And by meeting he meant Leon called him lost again and he had to take flygon to go save him from falling off a waterfall. Sigh. Classic Leon. He got back and decided to stop by that sweet cafe for some food and treats for his team. What he wasn't expecting however was to see you again. He was surprised truly at first, as everything that had happened before played through his mind, before he had smiled and decided to do what he did best. Playfully mess with people. Why not? He wouldn't deny you peeked his interest and he was curious to see what you would do next. Boy that conversation was one he'd never forget.

You flung the five dollar bill onto the table for the tip and went to stuff the money back into your pocket- "ACK!" A glass bumped into your cheek and you frowned over at Silver who innocently chirped and tried handing you the glass again. With a sigh you finally took it from his teeny pink hand. "Sil. You couldn't have waited for me to finish?" You didn't notice the guy sit down in the chair next to you. Head in one hand. "We need to leave." You looked back up and placed the cup down, in view now of the man. "Cuz I'm not gonna-".....You paused mouth slightly open making Raihan chuckle right next to you. You nearly JUMPED out of your chair bristled like a cat as you snapped over to the guy. "GAH!?" Instead you leaned away fast arms up. "WHAT THE HE-...YOU!?"

He ended up chuckling a deep rumble that sounded like a deep purr. Now any other woman, and some men, would've swooned or blushed at the sound of such a chuckle..But instead you frowned. It only reminded you of a sound a cat would rumble out before chasing a mouse. He gazed at you with half lidded eyes and waved his other hand at you. "I thought I recongized you from somewhere."

....You frowned and lowered your arms but didn't stop leaning back. "Oh joy."

Despite you not hiding your annoyance he simply chuckled again a lazed smirk pointed at you. "Y'know...I actually didn't think it was you at first." he shrugged. "Honestly didn't expect to see you at all again either. But the chances of another woman with f/c hair and f/c eyes running around with a shiny water type are pretty slim to none." His smiled widened to show his fangs. "But I'm not complaining.~"

"Bro. What the heck?," you deadpanned at him and crossed your arms, "I thought I told you, very politely might I add, last time that I wasn't interested."

He hummed and nodded. '' You did. You did. I'm not denying that fact for a bit."

....You rose a brow. "Ok. Then what do you want then?"

"That's just the thing." He sighed looking you over as you narrowed your eyes. Silver chirped in question peeking over your leg curiously to why you were angry. "...You see...I usually don't get the kind of reaction you gave me all those weeks ago. Not so fast. Not so blunt." He chuckled and rose a brow. "And definitely not with the kind of sass you delivered. I haven't been able to forget about it."

"Not my problem, Dude. Not interested."

"Oh come on. That's a little unfair since you don't know much about me. I'd like to get to know a girl like you more! Why don't I buy you dinner and we can chat?"

"I already ate thanks." You pointed to the dishes. "And I have some people waiting for me so...Polite pass."

He smiled brightly an idea flashing from behind those eyes and you cringed. Oh no. He pointed at you. "Hey! That's right you were with that gym challenger right?" You didn't like where this was going. "That could only mean she's passing through or here to battle me right?"

"The latter," you answered truthfully.

His smile got wider. "Then how about this? If I win against her I get to take you out for dinner!"

You have a huff staring at the wild suggestion he even made. "You honestly believe I'm going to agree to THAT!? You don't know when to stop huh?"

His hand was placed on his chest. "You got me. But yes. I'm known for being pretty determined for the goals I strive." He winked at you. Oh brother. "But I promise I don't bite.~.....Much.~"

You were already darting your eye around on edge trying to figure out a way out of this mess you had accidentally and unintentially put yourself in. UGH!! WHY COULDN'T THINGS JUST BE EASY FOR YOU FOR ONE DAY!? Your f/c eyes gazed over him and eventually locked onto his hood....then to the white straps on his jacket. A light bulb switching in your brain as an idea finally came into your head. And it made you cringe. Oh. You DIDN'T like it. Faaaaar from it....But it would certainly be a fast ticket out. You just had to suck it up and go for it!......May Arceous have mercy on your dying pride for what you were about to do.

Forcing yourself to relax, you inhaled a deep breath before exhaling your tense body relaxing. Before leaninf forward towards Raihan and smiled. Eyes half lidded. "Yeah?~ Well Dragon Boy. Maybe I ought to kidnap YOU and see how you like it.~" Raihan paused. Seeming to blink taken aback for a moment. His blue eyes looked over you at the confusion of the sudden flirty (GAG-) tone you were forcing yourself to do. But you didn't give his brain any time to process it before standing up in the blink of an eye and leaning over him. "Maybe I ought to badger your handsome face and see how cute you look.~" You cringed inwardly SO SO SO HARD and reached your hand up and over his still processing face to grab his hood. Gently pulling it over and placing it softly on his head. "And how sweet you look in his hoodie of yours.~ You know what else is a good look for ya?~"

.....Raihan relaxed, a flirty smirk printed on his fanged face as he delivered another rumbling purr-laugh. God you wanted to hide and RUN!! "No.~ Why don't you tell me?~"

You chuckled and stared at him. ".....THIS!!"

In a flash your hands grabbed onto those white straps and YANKED!! In an instant, with a ZIP noise raihan's hood shrank in around his head and he suddenly gave a loud yelp of surprise at the suddenly hoodie attack you gave. You didn't even blink. Not waiting for him to respond, you quickly whipped around, snatched Silver into your arms with a loud chirp from him, and RAN!!

"SAY HI TO PIERS FOR ME!!"

Needless to say the next time he saw Piers the rockstar broke out laughing even more at this lady's actions. From then she earnt the nickname Ms. Sassy or just sassy from him since that seemed to suit her just fine. Needless to say he wasn't expecting her to suddenly yank his hood over his head but at that moment something happened. He couldn't quite put his hand on it but if he had to guess then he'd have to say it felt almost like a...spark. Yeah. A spark. Sparking a challenge within him. Not only once but twice you had rejected him and in ways he never saw before. It was....Fun. And your next conversation was just as fun and thrill-seeking for him as well. You didn't even accept his second invite to dinner the very next day he saw you. In fact your demeanor and face seemed really..annoyed and angry. Oops. Well he guessed that was his own fault. Huh...Well he didn't want anyone hating him for any reason and he definitely didn't want any bad blood with anyone Leon considered a friend so it'd probably be best if he apologized. And by pure coincidence he happened to see you at the cafe again when getting food for his team.

You opted to sick at a table near the register with a few magazines you could look through on it placing Silver in the chair next to you and he splayed his arms out on the table placing his head on it. Obviously bored but you let it slide as he was tired. You grabbed the first magazine closest to you and opened it to a flurry of pokemon fashions and make up products for sell. Makes sense sense since it was a fashion magazine. With Silver practically almost falling asleep and you half way just flipping through the magazine neither of you noticed Raihan walking in, but just like yesterday he noticed you almost right off the bat. And smiled at you. Only you didn't look up until Silver hand tugged on your hand and gave a curious noise, pointing a pink hand over to the counter.

"Hungry again? Well I guess you would be hungry after all you went through," you hummed putting down the magazine. "Y'know we're supposed to wait for Gloria...But I can get you a bunch of water." He chirped lifting his head up from the table. "You used a lot of water so it's only fair you get some more-" You froze as the chair on your other side was pulled out as someone sat there....and you turned your head. .....And frowned. "Again? Really Dude?"

Raihan chuckled in his chair as he held his head in one hand and smiled that fanged grin at your deadpanned totally not interested please leave me alone frown channeling your inner bored drizzle face. "Yeah. Well you were sitting here by yourself-"

"Silver. Stand by with water gun."

Raihan's face dawned the same small eyed and open mouth frozen smile look when Silver immediately stood on the chair and narrowed his eyes at Raihan, giving an intimidating warning chirp. He immediately held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa there, Champ! I come in peace!" You crossed your arms eyes narrowed. "No! Really I do! Peace! Peace!"

"Give me one good reason not to have my baby soak you to the bone?"

"Because.....You don't want to make a scene in a nice place like this and get kicked out?," Raihan asked nervously.

And you paused for a moment...and nodded deciding he had a point. "Ok. Silver stand down. But keep on stand by just in case." Silver looked to you..then to Raihan with narrow eyes before slowly sitting back down. "Ok. You have one minute and don't get any ideas. Silver's pretty protective of me and can spot things before me."

Raihan chuckled nervously looking between yours and Silver's glares before clearing his throat and speaking normally. "I just w-wanted to say Hi!"

"Uh huh." You really believed him. "Aren't you supposed to be taking care of your pokemon after the battle?....What even happened out there anyways?"

"Oh. Camilla's doing that."

"Camilla?"

"One of my personal trainers. She helps take care of the pokemon I have when I don't have them with me. Oh you must mean with your friend's corviknight right?" You nodded. Yeah. What even happened out there? "Oh. She accidentally slipped on the field and got in the pathway of the rockfall. I think her giant friend took initiative of what happened and stepped in to make sure she wouldn't get hurt."

"Oh." Thinking back on it now, that would explain why she was all covered in sand and was clutching onto her bird pokemon when the dust settled. "Well that explains that." And you pointed with a suspicious look to you. "But then why are you here now?"

"I always stop by this cafe when I'm here," he said casually with a shrug, "They make my favorite cakes and cappuccinos! Besides, they're the only ones in town who makes pokemon friendly donuts. My team loves 'em. After a rough battle like that they deserve a small reward for a good job don't they?" You didn't answer at first thinking it over. ...Well it's not like Raihan could've read your mind and known you were here, and you doubted he followed you. So you guessed he was telling the truth. "Hey. Why don't I buy you lunch while I'm here?" ....AAAAnd you were back to your deep scowl and narrowed eyes at him. "As a peace offering!" He clarified as Silver stood up seeing your scowl. "As a peace offering and an apology to show there's no hard feelings."

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food. And Silver WAS hungry after all.....And free food was tempting. Plus it meant you wouldn't have to pay any money for your own meal. BBuuutt- "You DO realize if I agree to let you buy me food...It does NOT. NOOOTTT!! N. O. T. " You stressed pointing at his blinking face. "It does NOT mean I'm going 'out to lunch' with you! It doesn't mean I'm accepting any dates. I will accept it as a peace offering and nothing else. Not a date or anything of the like. And I wouldn't owe you anything since you're the one who offered to buy it."

"I fully realize that," he casually said smiling normally instead of that flirty or smug way. "I really meant it when I said I wanted to apologize." He held out his hand. "So...How about we start over? Hi. I'm Raihan, and I'd like to pay for your meal!" He smiled wider. "What's your name?"

You rose a brow a moment ....but you decided to be the bigger person and attempt to bury the hatchet. If not just for your sake, but for Gloria and Hop's. After all just like with Piers and Mr. Rose, you didn't want any bad blood between the officials and challengers. So after a silent moment you reached over to shake his hand. "Hello Mr. Raihan." You greeted professional as if you were in a job interview. "My name is Y/n L/n. And I hope you're ready to pay for two meals."

He blinked. "Two?"

You answered by pointing to Silver still eyeing him down. "He'll be less likely to hose you down if he's fed and watered."

"Ah." he nodded. "I see." Smiling he turned and waved a hand to the store owner. "Hey. I have two more things to add to my order!"

The owner blinked but smiled and nodded. "Sure! You want them to go too like the the other three?"

"Three?," you asked raising a brow and he nodded.

"Yeah. For the triplets. Gotta keep the kids under my care fed." At this your eyes widened in surprise. He chuckled at your response and rose a brow. "Surprised?"

"...Yyyeah. Kinda." You blinked pointing at him. "I didn't know you were a...Dad?" That certainly wasn't in game or any other media you knew. Was it because this was a different world than yours? Did you just forgot and not remember?! To your surprise raihan laughed. Not like Piers smooth laughs, his was more boisterous and loud like that of a dragon. But it didn't seem bad.

"Nah! I'm not their dad," he clarified looking back to you chuckling, "But I guess you can call me that." He shook his head. "Nah...The triplets just happened to be some kids who were down on their luck and let's be honest. I'll need someone to take over the gym when I decide to retire one day in the distant future."

"Are their parents alright with it?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know really."

"Why?"

"They were arrested for stealing shiny pokemon from a nature reserve a long time ago," he said casually chuckling at your shocked expression. "Hey. You did ask. Besides, I didn't like the thought of any of my hometown's kids being sent to the orphanage." He went oddly quiet for a moment looking at his hand...before smiling again and shrugging. "But hey. It works out for all of us in the end then. What did you want to eat, Ms. Sassy?"

You stared at him for a long moment and only really snapped back to reality when Silver smacked your arm making you flinch. "Huh?! OH! R-Right? .....You know what? How about just an instant noodle curry for me and a Sweet Boiled egg one for Silver?..And some water for him too."

He smiled and pointed at you. "Sure thing, Sassy!~ Hey! About those orders!"

He'd never have someone threaten to sick a pokemon on him before. Gotta say that was a new one. Never the less it did get his heart pumping from the thrill of it all...and ..something else there. He wasn't stupid. He knew there was another reason he was interested in your interactions with him but you weren't heartless towards him either. You apologized for threatening him with Silver which he accepted. Hey. No biggy. That one was on him after all. But amends all around were fine. But still that feeling racked his chest and he still wasn't sure what it was. He had to wait until the end of the year before he had another chance to see you again. The Semifinals and Champion Cup. Heh. You ended up sicking your drizzlie on him and having him literally jump over a sofa just to put some distance between the two of you. Which made Piers laugh again. Heck. You even got him a cute little duraludon keychain for Christmas. Heck he still used it for his house keys. 

Then it happened. 

The entire Eternatus incident. The incident that shook himself and all of Galar to the core. He couldn't remember how fast he had taken off back to Hammerlocke leaving his trainers in Opal's care where he arrived just in time to stop two of the three children who snuck in there, and then you had arrived there again panting and stressed beyond belief. Took him for a loop. Something like guilt striking through his chest. He couldn't stop you anyways when you marched into the powerplant and ran on through the danger to save your friends. He was surprised when he saw the powerplant for the first time along with all that fancy high tech equipment just beneath his gym's feet. And then there was the Chairman...Oh Mr. Rose. He didn't escape your wrath and he felt that same fluttery feeling slam into his chest when he saw you dish some justice that he couldn't top even if he tried. And then as quickly as you came you left leaving him to secure Mr. Rose himself. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the man responsible for this didn't get away after all...

But-....

He should've been there. 

HE SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE!! Maybe if he had been there he could've done something to help and keep everyone safe from being hurt!! This was HIS gym stadium Arceus darn it! Why didn't he suspect anything!? Why didn't he do anything!? He could've done something to prevent this. Because when the elevator from the rooftop opened-...When two young children were crying over someone's unconscious body-.... Leon all scraped and bruised up came hobbling out cradling someone's limp body in his arms-...His stomach did summersaults like he never imagined before. He never expected to see you of all people hanging limp in Leon's arms wrapped up in his cape as the hurt champion struggled to take you to safety. Even Mr. Rose standing next to him seemed absolutely speechless at the sight of you. Leon, looking more panicked than Raihan had ever seen him before, looked desperately at Raihan eyes widened and full of fear. Yelled three words at Raihan.

"GET AN AMBULANCE!!"

[otakween]

One Pound Gospel - Volume 1

Yay, new series! (This one was next on MAL after 0 Man). Happy to be reading something by another icon (Rumiko Takahashi). I've never heard anyone talk about this one at all, so I don't know what general opinions are nor do I know anything about the plot. Let's go!

Ch. 1

So we got a boxer in love with a nun...I saw a commenter comparing this premise to Nacho Libre and now I can't unsee it.

(I might need to include a rewatch of that movie, for the meme).

Anyways, our leads are Kosaku and Sister Angela. Kosaku seems like a head empty jock who thinks with his heart and stomach. Sister Angela seems like she can whip him into shape (emotionally lol).

Despite having watched most of Ranma 1/2, I don't think I've ever read a Rumiko Takahashi manga? Craziness! This isn't her first work but it's one of the earlier ones from the 1980s, so I'm expecting some newbie scuff (or maybe she was just a legend from the start?)

Christianity in anime/manga isn't that uncommon, but to have it be one of the main focuses is intriguing. I wonder if we'll find out how Kosaku and Angela came to the religion as Japanese people?

I don't care about boxing at all IRL, but I don't mind reading about it and learning the lingo. Maybe I'll gain an appreciation I didn't have before lol.

Didn't like Kosaku forcing a kiss on Angela (her being a nun makes it extra scuzzy). Oh the 80s...

Ch. 2

See? I'm already learning stuff. Apparently boxers aren't supposed to drink water during a fight (just rinse) and they're not supposed to have sex prior to the fight (I already knew about that one, but this reminded me). That second one's more of a superstition though.

I wasn't sure if Sister Angela wearing her habit all the time was realistic, but I googled it and apparently in some cases that is enforced. Also, I've seen nuns in public wearing habits, so I guess it's legit.

Sister Angela getting plastered was kind of funny but her breaking her wine bottle was a bit extreme. She's kinda unhinged in general, she shows up at Kosaku's match and tells him she'll never forgive him if he loses? (Seems toxic but okay)

The strategies Kosaku's coach has him using to make weight are kinda fucked up (borderline disordered). Starving himself, laxatives and sweating the weight off. I'm sure that happens plenty IRL though. Pretty sad that athletes feel the need to put their bodies through that.

Ch. 3

People in Japan...they can't actually down like 5 bowls of ramen right, that's just an anime thing? I eat one bowl and I need to lie down lol.

I look forward to seeing the food in the adaptations of the manga. Particularly in the live action.

The crucifix falling over when Angela prays for Kosaku was a funny gag.

At this point in the story the focus is definitely more on Kosaku's boxing career than on romance. I wonder if it will kind of go back and forth between the two or if the romance will always just be on the sidelines?

Ch. 4

I can't tell if Kosaku has a food addiction or if they're literally starving him. They never show him eating healthy/low calorie food that's approved by his coach so it kind of feels like he's just not allowed to eat at all. Anyone would obsessively seek out food if that's the case! He did mention "diet" earlier, so I'll hope it's not...

If I was let loose in Tokyo I'd struggle with food temptation too lol. So much street food... (Wait, is this set in Tokyo?)

Ch. 5

Kosaku stumbles into a win after throwing up in the ring again. Apparently you're allowed to win by yeeting your opponent outside the ring? Seems wrong, but what do I know

All this starvation-binge stuff is making me a little nauseous. There's gotta be a better way!

Ch. 6

You know how straight dudes in the 1980s dressed in a way that seems gay-coded by today's standards? That's kinda what Kosaku's giving. He's really cute. (Not much of a personality tho)

Takahashi sure likes her repetitive gags doesn't she? A lot of "comedy" anime do this and it's frankly kind of frustrating. I'm not gonna laugh when you do the same joke for the millionth time...

They seriously just should have put him in a heavier weight class sooner, but it feels like I'm missing something here. Why does it matter which weight class you're in and why are some more sought after than others? -shrug-

I also don't get the "4 rounds" vs. "6 rounds" thing. Is it like baseball vs. softball or something? At least Sister Angela is just as clueless as me!

Ch. 7

Okay so apparently you pick your weight class based on your bone structure, I get it I don't really get it

Ch. 8

Okay, I immediately hate Onimaru for begging his pregnant wife to have a son and not a daughter 😒 I hope Kosaku kicks his ass

It almost seems like a conflict of interest to have your friend do your confession, no?

This series is reminding me of Spy x Family. Like you know how in that show Yor's plotline is mostly sidelined compared to Loid's? That's kinda how the Kosaku/Angela balance feels here.

Ch. 9

I really don't know anything about boxing, so I don't know what makes a good or bad fight, but this one seemed really pathetic lol. I'm glad at least Onimaru wasn't a sore loser, he probably needed to be humbled anyways.

The manga seems to be implying that Kosaku is fat which...huh? He doesn't look fat at all? Sure, he eats like a fat person but...I think 1980s "fat" meant something different lol.

IDK why Angela is so set on Kosaku being in the lower weight class. I guess it's good to be disciplined, so she sees that as the morally right thing to do?

So so far this seems like a very low stakes manga. It's leaning more towards the sports genre than the romcom, which isn't really what I expected. Well, after 0-Man I could definitely use an easy-breezy read like this. Onto the next volume!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yves also reminds me of balalaika from black lagoon. I could imagine that some of his body scars and previous face scars would look a lot like hers. Also the vague mafia vibe that Yves has sometimes reminds me of her too. (The video “Balalaika’s revenge” on YouTube captures this perfectly). The way they have that very lithe feminine flirtatious vibe but also the way they can become so cold and ruthless also makes me see parallels too.

Roberta from the same show also reminds me of him in some ways due to the extreme before and after in terms of their lives. Now sweet person utterly dedicated to their loved one but also carries a horrendous past that they wish to keep from their loved one. Like UGH could you imagine Yves darling somehow, by literally divine unluckiness, despite all that he has done, somehow gets sucked into the more dangerous aspects of his life/work through a series of unfortunate events? I can see him going through a similar kind of turmoil Roberta went during Roberta’s blood trail. I mean like the anger, the rage, how apologetic he’d be towards the reader, the tears, all that trauma finally boiling up to the surface that once more. It would be really bad DAMN!!

Holy fuckin shit anon yeag omg i watched balalaika's revenge and MY GOD does she have that essence, like DAMN i was like looking thru her wiki n shit

Roberta too, but like yves just isn't like full of trauma about to explode, he managed to convert it into something else that powers him and he controls it all

Thamz u 4 ur thots tho , i appreciate it anon ❤️

[tendebill]

[oc]

every now and then i get an idea for something in my uni and i have to marinate on it but man...

(rant underneath, cw for on-graphic discussion of amputation)

for a while now ive been seeing some cool robotic porcelain-esque arm designs on pinterest and theyve made me think. essentially i saw an opportunity for angst and now i cant unsee it. to cut to the point: what if one of my characters, the MAIN ones, lost their arm/both their arms? it would satisfy my need to finally use the different pretty robotic arms ive been seeing as inspiration PLUS its additional angst and a win is a win. it could be fun to design. NOT TO MENTION the story potential of something so big happening.

COUPLE OF PROBLEMS WITH THAT THO. losing both arms? kind of a big deal. i dont wanna do it for a background/side character, i want it to actually be a big deal and to have impact. but again, its a huge thing and i would have to write a whole lotta scenes and stuff for it, so it doesnt just happen and never get mentioned again. besides i am not sure on WHO it would even BE.

Seph and Ellie feel off-limits, considering all the other shit they have going on already and them not having arms for ANY period of time would be a problem, when a huge part of the plot relies on them DOING THINGS AND GOING PLACES. im not including Huen, David, Angelica or Maffi on the list either, as they have pretty solid arcs and dont need any more content for their stories.

HOWEVER. there are James, Cyan, Dots and Lucy, plus Angele if i wanted to be REALLY horrible. Angele could be an interesting candidate, but again, i feel like she has enough content already.

James' arc is mostly about him finding that hes not useless and gaining confidence, despite his magic being the weakest of the main group (he has Angelica Emperor to thank for some of it, cuz yk, she doesnt have any magic at all but shes still formidable and she helps him out a lot). he doesnt need that much dark stuff in his story.

Cyan? they were my first choice i think, but then i rememebered they already have a big thing with turning back time, which leaves them with wounds all over their body and makes them unable to use their magic for a good long while. them losing their arms ON TOP OF THAT would be overkill and would be decommissioning a very useful and fun character for basically no reason.

Dots... could be interesting. since shes a healer and feels like her team depends on her being able to help them and keep a cool head, having her UNABLE to help and hurt to that extent would be crushing for her usual composure. having her see her team pull through for her with helping her recover would let her see how much they appreciate her and that shes not alone. PLUS her girlfriend, Lucy, is a scientist. the idea of Lucy making new arms for her could be fun to explore.

speaking of Lucy, she's my prime candidate i think. also, for some reason whenever i had the idea to premanently kill off one of the main characters for dramatic effect, it had always been her. rest assured, i no longer want to kill her for dramatic effect. but i have considered it. multiple times. it wouldnt bring anything into the story tho, which is why i scrapped it. having Dots help Lucy design the arms for her and then having to find someone capable enough to construct them? could be a fun sidequest for my favourite lesbians (ommitting the missing arms thing of course). plus having prosthetic arms that she designed herself would be a fun aesthetic to explore PLUS since she deals with chemicals a lot, having artificial hands would make it so that shes less at risk for chemical burns and stuff. IT KINDA WORKS AND THATS WHAT SCARES ME.

another thing is that, like i mentioned, if it was Lucy (or even Dots if i played my cards right) i have a whole new side character i could bring into the story. and while, sure, i have a lot of ocs already, but i wouldnt be making a COMPLETELY NEW ONE. instead i have two unused ocs, one SUPER old and one that ive been toying with for a while on how to bring them into the story. if i made them ONE character and gave them a purpose in this story, its another win-win.

but then again, do i have the balls to actually cut of someones arms. technically i could compromise and make it so that the oc of choice loses only one hand, but it feels kinda... overdone in a way? i feel like characters losing both arms is less common. besides, go big or go home. either no arms are lost, or both are. but also it could be a bit too dark? idk ive done some horrible shit to my ocs and given them trauma beyond reason but this somehow feels too evil :|

[cielsosinfel]

here are my thoughts on all BG3 companions up through the end of Act 1 and very beginning of Act 2:

Astarion: light of my life, I am actually spoiled for probably 95% of his story, he is such a disgusting and rancid poor little meow meow and I want to see him grievously mutilated and tortured and then gently put back together again (repeat). As a faggy bi man he is the best #representation I have seen yet from mainstream media lmao. If i speak too much about him this whole post will be about him, sorry. Guro noncon yandere kink fanfic material out the wazoo, tho (Also of course I have many many thoughts on his character's narrative around trauma and healing or the lack thereof, but, too many words)

Shadowheart: I LOOOOVE HER I love her. I kind of wish they'd kept her as initially hostile and cruel as in EA after viewing video of it, but I also enjoy how she seems low-key and almost normal, though an asshole, and then BAM suddenly she's waxing poetic about committing terrifying emotional and physical torture in the name of her beloved mommy goddess. She is such an asshole and I feel like she gets soft on the PC weirdly fast, but I also do enjoy how playing Dark Urge informs the relationship dynamic as her backstory and personality unfolds, how the fact she becomes Best Friends with them despite the whole blackout-frenzied-murder and urges to eat corpses plays into her own issues and desire for understanding and connection (the memory loss and disconnect from her previous life and sense of self, the god devotion, wanting to make herself an even worse person in the name of her god, how completely committed she is in the art of torture and causing suffering, how she's simultaneously disgusted by and intrigued by Dark Urge's whole murder cannibalism urges.) Anyway yes she's great, I love her turmoil about not living up to her potential as a Shar-loving religious zealot and expert torturer.

Wyll: Wylllllllllll I feel like he was done so dirty by the writers between Early Release and Release. They should have continued to let him be an asshole warring with living up to heroic ideals, who just made a deal with a demon out of desperation for respect and appreciation. But he's fun in release too, just too low-key for me? With Dark Urge it's interesting because he is truly the most morally Good-Aligned party-member, probably, and I think about how he must grapple his morals with aiding and growing close to a murderous gore-loving freak. He's constantly having to compromise his own deeply-held ideals in the name of getting the tadpole out of his head, and I wonder about that constantly. At the same time, he's so focused on doing good and the cause of justice but is REALLY REALLY DOWN FOR GOBLIN MASS-MURDER... Like OK Wyll!! They kept that from Early Access at least lmao. His relationship with Mizora and the angst and regret he feels at signing a contract with her, for making this one major ill-thought decision while in a high-stress "do or die" situation, gets me, the way he's like, so resigned to it... How he's so resigned to being transformed into the very thing he'd dedicated his life to culling existence of (demons.) (The constant metaphors to being a pampered pet on a leash get to me.) Though you know, it still gets me he's lamenting how ugly he looks with horns, claws and fangs, in the middle of a party full of Tiefling who just faced a lot of life-threatening discrimination for looking like demons... lmao... especially when he's venting these things to a Tiefling Durge lmao... oh wyll...... Anyway I think he's sweet, and I have even more thoughts on him and Astarion being foils who need to fuck. I want to learn more about his daddy issues so I can give him a proper daddy kink. Wow, how is this the longest part of this post.

OK THIS GOT TOO LONG AND ITS ONLY THREE CHARACTERS!!!! I am going to an indie comics and arts festival today, I will come back to do the rest of the characters later.

[empressawesomecoolness]

Doctor Who: The Ultimate Speedrun Marathon - Series 3 (2007)

The semester’s keeping me busy but trust me I’m still trying to keep this speedrun going and get caught up on everything before May, so I’m glad to say I finally finished Series 3 yaaaaayyy! It was a lot of fun, especially in how it carried over from Series 2 into 10’s adventures with a new companion after Rose. Aight let’s get into it…

General Thoughts

Right off the bat, I loved Martha as a companion. Similar to Sylvester McCoy, I was familiar with Freema Agyeman from her stellar work on Sense8, so I was already a fan of her’s as soon as she popped up on screen. She’s got her own brand of intelligence and spunk that bounces off of 10 really well. Don’t get me wrong, I love that Rose was carried over from Eccleston’s tenure into Tennant’s, but I believe that Martha meeting 10 as he is for the first time in this series was beneficial to them building a better chemistry. Also, it’s great and refreshing to see the Doctor get his first black female companion in the show’s history. Overall, probably one of my fav companions so far, if not my favorite.

Not much to add in regards to David Tennant’s performance as the 10th Doctor, but I’ll heap praise anyways. He’s just as charismatic as he was last season, never phoning it in for even a second. All of 10’s big emotional and personality quirks can really be chalked up to Tennant’s clear love of the material, which was also apparent in the previous two Doctor actors I’ve covered thus far.

Besides the Doctor and Martha, Series 3 also had a really big moment that I was pleasantly surprised to see be built up so well: the return of The Master. Last time I saw that character in this speedrun watch-through, he was ‘90s Eric Roberts doing his best impression of an effeminate man. I was wondering how he’d inevitably return after his fate in the TV movie, so I genuinely felt the rug pulled out from under me when he was revealed to have been hiding right under my nose as Professor Yana in Utopia. Derek Jacobi played both the unassuming professor and the menacing Master really well, so props to him. As for his almost immediate successor, John Simm as the 7th Master, I must admit…. not really my thing. I will admit he had some great moments that made me truly hate him (which in turn made me like him more cuz well y’know he’s the villain duhh), but the over the top flamboyance just gave me major BBC Sherlock Moriarty vibes. idk, again I still haven’t seen the classic series in its entirety yet, so maybe that’s just how the Master is, but I’m inclined to believe Stephen Moffat is the common denominator in this specific characterization. Despite my criticisms tho, Simm’s chemistry with Tennant was really fun. Much more dynamic than the complete diva Paul McGann had to act off of.

Favorite Episodes

• Blink

• The Shakespeare Code

• The Lazarus Experiment

• Human Nature

• The Family of Blood

• Daleks in Manhattan

• Evolution of the Daleks

• Utopia

Favorite Moments

• The entirety of Blink was a really clever well done treat for me. It felt a lot like an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and it just played with Doctor Who’s version of time travel so well and to such great effect. The Weeping Angels are now some of the Doctor’s most iconic foes, which is well deserved because they are super memorable and scary as fuck. Also it was funny to see baby Carey Mulligan here lol

• The moment Professor Yana reveals himself to be The Master was so crazy cool. Like just a few seconds earlier when he started acting weird and jaded I was thinking “holy shit is he the Master he’s gotta be the Master” and I was right 😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

• I appreciate that Martha mentions how William Shakespeare doesn’t look exactly like he does in the famous portraits we have of him. It’s still kind of a topic of speculation as to what exactly he looked like in his youth, so I liked that she’d pick up on that.

• “Come on. We can all have a good flirt later!” “Is that a promise, Doctor?” “Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” I love this show

• They should induct Blink into the National Film Registry for preservation just for the introduction of the phrase “wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff” alone

• Captain Jack Harkness (great to see him back btw) is THE FACE OF BOE????????????????? not sure how to feel about that. points for creativity tho

• tryna just chill and watch The Lazarus Experiment then BOOM!!!!! MARK GATIS JUMPSCARE AHHHHHHHHH

• The sound of a militaristic drumbeat constantly playing in the Master’s head is a great motif. One of the things I did like about Simm’s portrayal was how well he got across the maddening effect of the drumbeat’s sound in his head.

• The series finale was soooo crazy. I loved how the consequences of the Master’s plan were shown to have been so hard to crack that it took a whole year for them to even get close to him. It really built up the Master as a new kind of villain for this revamped version of the show. Also, fucking good on Martha for busting her ass to travel the globe and gather the support of millions. She’s such a badass

• “Good old J.K.!” *thousand yard stare*

Alright, that about wraps it up for Series 3! I had a great time with this series, even if it took me a bit to get through. Time to crack on, though. Gotta keep this speedrun train going. Onto Series 4, which (for the most part) marks David Tennant’s final tenure as the 10th Doctor.

[ria-writes-stories]

Title: When I see your smile

Ship: Thuzi

Genre: Romance, wholesome(fluff), a *th*ad of glass(angst)(the h is silent bc french )

(No one's pov)

Life on copper 9 was ruthless. You had to hide or die, you couldn't have freedom without death, and you couldn't have a life without being locked behind walls. Wasn't it so infuriating? Living behind doors. Living behind these empty hollow walls?

That's why she wanted to become the most dangerous drone there was.

That's why he wanted to become the strongest drone there was.

Avenge those fallen and take revenge on those responsible for what has happened in the past that determined this present, and that is doomed to represent their future.

To protect those unable to protect themselves, to protect the future of the colony and all the innocent lives in it, like a guardian, like a knight, like a true hero.

Then it came to her, a perfect idea. A railgun. She could do it with such ease. With her intelligence and skills, before you knew it in just under a month she has made the most dangerous weapon known to this world they live on.

Then it came to him, the perfect idea. To train so hard, and to be the bravest that there was. With his patients and determination, before you knew it he was the most popular jock in school, and the most appreciated person in all of the colony, everyone knew him, and just few special knew of his dream...

Maybe she hated her old man, but she had to admit somewhere in herself that if he didn't have such programming for engineering, she wouldn't have had it as well, but that didn't matter, well, it did, it mattered so much, despite all that she feels in her. Despite what she feels like late at night trying to figure out where she is going wrong, she wants to make him proud, at least this once, at least once, once at least...

Maybe he wasn't always around the best company, but he had to admit somewhere in himself that if he was always around good people, he wouldn't have this fire flowing through his veins to become even better, because when all is sunshine, you tend to become docile and forget your ideas.

Two lovely drones with nothing in common, isn't that right now, hm? Well what if I told you, that there was more then meets the eye? What if I told you that the outcast and the most popular drone were brought closer by fate in a way that you couldn't even imagine in this life?

Two broken mirrors hanging on a wall each shattered by the inner demons. In on a girl looked at herself with despair, in another the boy looked at himself with hatred.

'Freak' 'Outcast' 'You freak us out' 'Ew it didn't kill her' but the final blow, what really got her down, the look in her father's eyes. Looking at her as if searching for something as if she was a fragment of the past he so desperately missed, and she couldn't live up to it, no matter what, so, she decided to be better than it.

I didn't stand a chance. That disassembly drone moped the floor with me!' 'Weak!' 'Hahahahaha! Come on Thad! Be more realistic!' 'Pffft sure, you can't spell your ABC's but you want to be a WDF? HAH!' Ever since he can remember, he has learned one thing, if you tell anyone about your dreams they will give you their opinions on them, and not all are kind, but what drove him the most was for the hatred he had for himself. He had to get better. He had to...

That is what they think, that is what they tell themselves, that they do it to be something, to be worth something, to be someone. Heh. Petty little liars these two, don't cha think? Because they already knew why they were doing all of this, but they forgot, but not their heart, never their heart.

"Hey!!! Leave her alone!"A boy's voice shouted as a couple others laughed. "Is that your boyfriend?" a girl teased. "Let's get outta here!" Another panicked one said as she ran off with her friends.

Uzi had bitter tears running down her cheeks as she was sitting on the ground, one leg laid and another standing up. She scrapped her knee when one of those girls pushed her. 'Freak!' 'Weirdo!' 'Creepy!' all said with a smile, such cruelty.

"Uzi! Are you ok?" Thad asked as he knelt down. They were maybe four or five that day. Thad had a chipped tooth, so, sometimes, just sometimes, some words he said sounded weird. "Y-yeah." The girl said looking away. "You're injured!" "I'm fine Thad..." Thad used his jacket and used it as a bandage for her wound, it quickly dirtied in her oil. "?!" "There! Is this better?" He asked with a beaming smile as he looked at her with hopeful bright eyes. "Yeah, but, you're jacket..." Uzi said quietly. "Who cares about that? Come on." Thad said getting up and giving her a hand. His green emerald eyes, his warm charming smile and his perfect sun kissed hair as if it was made out of sun rays. Uzi blushed lightly and got up on her own. "I'm not a baby!" "I didn't say you are one..." Thad said confused rubbing the back of his neck as Uzi huffed as she continued to have a small blush on her visor. "Are you ok?" "Stop asking! I'm fine!" She said huffing. Thad just chuckled, even now he remembers how they met.

"Hahahaha! You can't even spell your ABC's and you want to be in the WDF?!" "L-leave me a-a-alone!" Thad had a slight problem with his voice box, which caused him to stutter. A boy pushed him, then another, and another... "HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU MEANIES!" A girl's voice rang. "Oh look, the purple freak! What are you gonna-" The boy didn't finish his sentence for Uzi punched him in the face without hesitation, the other two boys got afraid and ran eating the dust as soon their 'fallen' friend joined them, crying for his mommy. "Are you ok?" "Y-yea-A-h." Thad said looking at the strange girl with a small blush. "Did they damage your vocie box?" "Oh- n-no tha-aAT-h's how i-i-iT iS-sSs." When he as nervous it would get worse. He looked away embarrassed. "Oh... I think it's cool! It's different, so that's nice." Uzi said bluntly. "R-really?" Uzi nodded as Thad blushed a bit more.

The two kids began to play together after that, every single day.

"I'll be the next WDF leader!" Thad announced proudly while walking with Uzi to the nursery. "Ugh, really? Well, please do, dad's never around...What even is so great about it?" Uzi said mumbling the dad part between her teeth as she looked at the ground sadly before looking back at Thad puzzled. "Cuz! I will be fighting murder drones, and I'll keep everyone safe and- and no one will hurt you!" Thad exclaimed with pure joy. He looked so proud of himself, as a soft gentle green blush rested on his visor as Uzi looked at him in disbelief as her own cheeks got a tad purple. "Well, I won't need protection!" Uzi said crossing her arms as she began to walk in front as Thad's face dropped, turning puzzled as he looked at her so lost. "How so?" He asked as he rushed to catch up with her. "Because I will destroy the murder drones! I will be an awesome solo and amazing fighter!" "Sooo, a hero?" "Not a hero! A...a...I don't know what but not that! I refuse to go by the social norms of this society!" Uzi said so sure of herself as if she came from another world, as if she wasn't from this colony and from somewhere where worker drones eat murder drones for breakfast. "Well... why?" Thad asked so confused. "Cuz you can't look after me if you can't even look after yourself." Uzi said in the heat of the moment but then realised her words. "I- I didn't mean it like that I meant- I meant I am tired of you looking out for me, so, I'll spin the ship around and lead!" "Why a ship?" Thad seemed completely oblivious to Uzi's earlier comments. "Cuz... on ships there is a captain...and a captain is the one who leads on a ship...?" Uzi didn't know what she was saying either. "Checks out." Thad said simply as he shrugged.

Thad looked up at Uzi's father. Founder of WDF. Little did he know back then what a father he, better said, wasn't... as for Uzi, she looked up at Thad's bravery. She always acted on impulses, he acted on courage, and that inspired her.

She wanted to be the most powerful, but it was so hard...she lacked the courage he had. He on the other hand appreciated her as his best friend, but, he lacked that fire that she had, and he was never able to tell her what he felt. Oh to be young and clueless...

The years went by, they drifted apart, and yet...every time Uzi went to the nurse's office, Thad was close behind, it just became an instinct, he just...knew when she was there, and even if they didn't talk everyday, even if they didn't see each other all of the time... they still talked as if they did every single day, neither realised it, but both felt a comforting feeling deep in their core when they got to talk with each other.

God how they drifted, Gow how they knew everything of each other and now they knew nothing and yet...

Outside of the colony, late at night, after a lovely little walk outside, Thad's idea, to catch up with Uzi, check on her, as he has become more concerned for her well being, Uzi tried to ran off, constantly checking the hour as if the sunrise meant she'd die, but it was far from sunrise, it was midnght for goodness sake!

'What if I snap? What if I hurt him? What if- Oh Robo-Jesus what if I- No, no, no. I can't control myself, this was a bad idea, why am I so stupid? Stupid! Stupid!' Uzi thought to herself as she ran off, as the snow helplessly crushed under her feet.

'Did I say something? Did I do something? No, wait, please. I am sorry. Come back. I didn't mean to drift apart from you, I just- I became so focused on all of these sports to be stronger- please.' Thad thought as he reached his hand out. No. These weren't his dreams and when he'd wake up nothing would have happened.

"UZI!" He screamed on top of his lungs as he bolted from his spot, running after her. Uzi froze in her place, confused, as her eyes widen in shock while she turned around. Before she knew it Thad was right in front of her, as if he was as fast as a disassembly drone. How did he...?

He was desperate. 'Run. Run you fool, you will loose her! RUN!' His mind screamed at her as his heart cried out for her. But the closer he got, the more unsure he became, what to do? What can he do? Embrace her? No, that would be so sudden... ki- no, no, that's not even in the equation that would be so weird, so then what, what could he possibly do, say, to make this less awkward, to... to make her feel better...? To make her feel better around him?

Uzi's eyes widen even more if possible as she looked at him in utter shock, unable to respond to what she saw before her, unable to move. The way he moved, like an animal pushing it's limits for the last chase of their life, as if it was this or nothing, as if...as if what he was chasing was always there but he didn't see it until it was almost too late...almost.

The moon shined upon the two drones, here, in the middle of nowhere in this God forsaken winter wasteland, nothing more, nothing less other then the two of them and the cold of the night. The moon light shinning against their metal surface, as if putting in the spotlight, two snowflakes, or better said ninja star's since they were snow-flake shaped sort of, made out of iron.

Thad's body acted without him knowing, acted without him thinking, acted before he could because his senses knew that he wouldn't be able to think it through in time. He found himself kneeling before her, taking her hands into his. His hands so beaten up. Basketball, box, dodgeball, boxing, so many sports that he signed up for hoping to toughen him up. Her hands, so precise and gentle to be able to engineer such fascinating things, yet such dangerous deadly weapons that took away more than one life.

"Please, I love you." he said breathlessly without skipping a beat as his green eyes, like the fresh lively grass that appears in spring looked into her purple galaxy eyes. She didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do, as he stood there, knelt before her.

As if he was making an oath, a knight to it's princess. "Please." he said again.

Before Uzi's eyes flashed the image of a boy that once upon a long time ago she defended from some 'meanies', the same look of fear, confusion and innocence in his perfect green eyes. A boy she always followed with the edge of her visor, to ensure at least he was doing fine, like a queen looking out for her loyal knight.

Before Thad's eyes flashed the image of a girl that once upon a long time ago, he stood by her side for so long yet lost himself in the training he took upon himself to be strong enough to protect her, like a loyal knight fighting life day and night to become enough to protect the queen that has made him what he is.

Uzi didn't have words. What words could you possibly have in such a moment? Neither did he have any, but those were the only things he was able to split out, and he had no clue what he'd say if she spoke, he'd make something up, find something in this hurricane of feelings, anything just to not leave her hanging. But words...plenty meaningless words are the poverty of one, aren't they?

So, they did what the most primal animal knows how to do when showing joy, and she took the first, just like she did so, so, so many times. She smiled. That perfect smile of hers. The smile he hasn't seen since they were young kids. That smile when she said so proudly that she won't need his protection, before quickly and nervously trying to explain that she won't need it because she will look out for him, and what else could he do? He smiled like the fool her was. His true genuine smile that was only ever given to her, followed by a few tears in his green perfect eyes.

"Heh..." He said breathlessly as he got up warping his hands around him as she hesitantly warped her hands around him as well. Two fools smiling without even knowing what they are smiling for and yet...this made them the happiest they have been since the last time they were together.

The end

[noblechaton]

so. the ml movie huh. hm (big ol post with spoilers under this cut btw)

so after almost 10 years of being on this bug and cat train they finally get a big ol expensive movie and I think it was. fine? maybe? there's a lot going on here and while I don't think I can call it good and mean it I don't think it was the worst thing ever. a 6? out of 10 feels kinda right for me. got a lot to say here fwiw so buckle in if ya wanna read it all lol

main issue I feel is obviously them trying to adapt 5 seasons, each of which was dozens of hours at least, and a near decade of storytelling into a movie that doesn't even hit two hours. no idea why - I imagine the money ran out tbh - but running through the entire thrust of the series in ~1h40m movie just. was never gonna work man. feel like there had to be better options out there, like just adapting Origins with some episodes from S1 thrown in between them getting their miraculous and Hawkmoth revealing himself or something. idk. I ain't a writer

but then also I felt despite the short runtime that it sorta dragged on at times? like it got stuck spinning wheels here and there. Marinette constantly needing her confidence boosted even after being Ladybug for so long was weird. it's so strange bc they flashed through a dozen akuma - some of which looked kinda cool btw, be neat if they made the jump to the show - and yet it felt like there'd been no progress made? like the flow of time in the movie just. didn't work. a lot of stuff just sort of happens at you and you gotta hang onto whatever ya like and hope it doesn't just vanish in the river of events

voice acting in English was like. pretty solid honestly. maybe the best performances I'd heard from that side of the dub tho I have no idea what they were thinking with the singing voice for Marinette at least. couldn't really tell if Adrien's was still Bryce (I don't think it was but it wasn't as jarring) and I know Keith sang for Gabe's songs but whoever they got for Marinette just. wasn't even close to Marinette's normal speaking voice and it's super distracting. really weird choice. no shade on the singer tho she was solid imo just like. no connection to Marinette's normal voice really took me out of it

also the songs were kind of nonsensical most of the time and there's way too many of them. some are kinda good - Gabe's, Chat's and tbh I kinda liked the one over the credits to name a few - but like. they were not good enough for there to be what felt like 6-7 different songs in a movie that doesn't even crack 2 hours lmao

they made a ton of changes in terms of the story and general world and I actually kind of liked some of them - Ladybug learning to swing through the yoyo (which had a neat redesign) and doing so using that Ladybug vision was cool, I appreciate that we get a reveal and how it's done even if the end card was brutal, the miraculous seeking them out felt more like nice compared to just having the weight of the world dropped on them by some ancient man lol - but then there's others I didn't. Ladybug just never uses the cure until the end? I guess? she also doesn't purify the first akuma I don't think and like. nothing happens? Adrien's just sorta out and about? going to the school already? he gets a really understated intro imo. Gabriel sort of doesn't get an ending. I'd assume he's in jail? we get almost none of Adrien's perspective on getting the ring which is really weird

and that sorta extends into my feeling that somehow we did not get enough Gabriel in this. really weird saying that after having enough of that bum for the last 4 years of my life but his motives are carried hard by my knowledge of the show, and even then they're not really shown enough - he's not shown enough, and I don't feel Adrien is either. neither is the school setting or side characters, heck I'd say Adrinette gets kinda shafted overall since most of the development they get is in a montage sequence. there's a lot chopped out of this for the sake of a brevity that doesn't feel all that brief?

there's some good stuff in here for sure. the animation is undeniably pretty and slick even if some models are kinda wack. most of the action was fun and cool, the final sequence with Chat running up the tower and such was neat. I loved the Ladynoir something fierce honestly, the bantering and the sparring and the getting closer and closer. missed them being like that a lot tbh, someone on staff clearly did too. couple of jokes got me too like the opener with Chloe getting a single drop of coffee on her shirt lmao

but then there's a lot of stuff that really didn't work for me. Plagg being reduced to a fucking fart joke kind of made me mad lmao. them being super inconsistent with their powers was so weird. no lucky charm?? WHAT?? did I miss something?? no side character getting any focus beyond Alya was disappointing too and even Alya just dips out of the story after a while. breaking out into song once every like 15 minutes got old kinda quick too regardless of song quality (tho it was funny that Marinette seemed aware of the fact that she'd just participated in a musical number at one point lol)

Fu opens the movie with some really weird monologue and basically dips after the first akuma and they just. never find him again? he plays zero role beyond that point? Adrinette's first meeting is kinda cute in an understated sort of way but it's also sort of nothing and doesn't feel like a lingering thing for long afterwards - it ain't no umbrella scene dude. also Chat Noir seemingly drops the "my mom died btw" thing on Ladybug like she'd know that and she just sort of goes "Ah. Sorry, Chat." and that was. super fucking weird lmao

like I said. there's a lot going on - tho I gotta say for sure the writing was not consistently good. there were moments, flashes, Ladynoir is the strongest thing in the movie imo but there's so many fucking craters in terms of quality that it makes me so happy we get what we do in the show

on the whole I felt the movie was somehow way too condensed and yet too long at the same time. it felt like it was made by someone who really likes the surface details of the series but not the whole thing and like that's fine but I wouldn't say it was a good representation of the show. like the things I like about the movie are kind of all things I've liked about the show, and I like them more so because of that but also like I can't say the movie was good just bc I like the show lol

shallow is a good word for it I think. a flashy, expensive hour or so with little more beneath the surface which I feel sorta betrays the show it's based on where it's cutesy on the surface but has more going on under it. which like this feels very much made for the younger demographic and those that aren't into the show, like sort of an ad for someone's ideal version series even if it sorta strays really far from the show itself. as if someone perhaps in charge of this movie was clinging to what elements of their flagship series that they thought were keeping their company afloat and foolishly believed they could do it better than the creator or any other actual writer. wonder who that could be. anyway

as an adaptation of the show I don't think it was good overall and as a movie on its own it was like. fine. imo. wouldn't sway people into picking the series up but definitely not the worst movie ever made. super safe and super shallow, really messy with a few bright spots thrown in. a cluttered Ladynoir reveal fic where the Ladynoir bits are good and the rest is not. etc.

I like it but mostly bc I love the show - I would not introduce someone to the series with this and might not even urge casual fans to watch it either tbh. real mixed bag imo

also what happened to the "Awakening" subtitle? I kinda liked it and it's just gone. weird

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi! I would really love to ask for a romantic match up for my oc If that's okay? I just love all the characters so much, I'm struggling to decide who to put her with. She has been my oc for a while, but I wanted to spice things up by putting her in a different universe for fun, and where better than mystic messenger!

Here is her information:

Name: Yume Nijikawa

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her, but she doesn't mind They/Them

Sexuality: Bisexual

Appearance:

- Hair: long, fluffy and wavy pastel purple hair with lighter purple and blue highlights. It's hard to describe but it's very pretty!

- Eyes: they're a purplish blue that fades to pastel yellow. The shape is doe like, but droopy.

- Build: short, and despite her delicate nature, Yume is actually kinda ripped bc she's in a figure skating club at her university and she also weight lifts as a hobby!

- Clothing style: She likes to wear soft clothing, mainly in the color white with some pastel accents or accessories. She will buy anything if it has teddy bear, bunny or ocean/fish designs though.

Occupation: She's a university student, and she studies music! (I haven't gotten this far, but in the future she will probably be a singer or in the entertainment industry in some way.)

Personality:

Yume is soft, sleepy, gentle and kind. She's outgoing and enjoys meeting new friends and people, as well as having lots of adventures. Though she is considered an ambivert, so she also enjoys a good amount of alone time. However, she can be dangerous when angry, and tends to be very overprotective of those she cares about. She can get a little crazy when her loved ones are hurt or threatened, so messing around with her is a terrible idea. (So don't let that soft appearance fool you! She's fiesty!)

She's playful and has a good sense of humor! She's also good with communicating her emotions and feelings, and encourages others to do so. I would call her a mom friend but she's more like a grandma friend, always baking sweets for everyone and spoiling people. Tho she will hound her loved ones to take care of themselves and even take matters into her own hands if they won't.

- Positive traits: Loving/Caring, Reliable, Intelligent, Patient, Humble and Respectful.

- Negative traits: Impulsive, overprotective, unforgiving (she holds grudges for life unless they're her loved ones), emotional, gives up pretty easily if it's something for herself. Selfless, majorly.

- Hobbies: DIY crafts (mainly to gift to others), baking and cooking, figure skating, singing and dancing (ballet, ballroom...she can do hip hop and other styles though), weight lifting. She also likes to write, and paint. But her paintings look...quite terrible. She enjoys them regardless.

- Likes: S'mores, tea, marine life/the ocean, bonfires, being around people/people watching, naps, bunnies, and plushies.

- Dislikes: Fighting, people neglecting themselves, checking emails, bullies, heavy perfumes.

Background:

- her backstory is actually a pretty dark, so I'm going to take out a good chunk of things that could be triggering. Just know I'm scrapping the surface with the summary. Bro has been through some stuff lol.

- summed up though, Yume lived in a very rich but distant family. They provided for her, and they treated her well enough. But they never truly cared for her, or hung out with her or did anything special with her. Not even for holidays or her birthday besides the basic card or cake- which she appreciated of course, but she wanted more of their time, and she felt selfish for this. She was also homeschooled until high school, so she had almost no friends in early childhood. Besides a couple playmates her parents arranged to keep her busy.

- So when she was old enough, she began people watching. She took notes on others, how they interacted and what they did as they passed by. Eventually, she took these notes and started to throw herself out into the world. At first she was awkward, and not a lot of people wanted to speak to her. But even so, she did her best. And when she joined a private high school, she managed to make many good friends, and even more so now that she is in college!

There's a lot more but this is the most important part that shaped her.

Additional Information:

Her voice is airy and soft spoken most of the time as well.

And she has a lot of tattoos, her favorite being a blue jellyfish on her arm. She also has a dolphin, and sting rays and seahorses.  She wants a full sleeve of marine animal tattoos, and also...she has such a high pain tolerance she is unphased when she gets tattoos. Can just hold cheerful conversations like nothing is happening or she has even taken short naps before during them on accident.

She'd probably like dates either with a lot of adventure, or just napping outside where there is a lot of peaceful nature. She would enjoy camping!

Her love languages are gift giving, quality time, and words of affirmation. I couldn't decide on just one for her.

I match you with...

Jumin!

There is something about your soft and unwavering nature that would speak to him on a level that is hard to explain if you don't know him as well as he allows his inner circle to do so. You know how to meet him in the middle which is saying something because not many people can do that. It is your confidence when it comes to making sure that somebody knows how to say something that needs to be said.

Jumin is well-spoken and read. He knows how to navigate a room! But, when it comes to his emotions, it's a different story. It can be hard for him to say the things that are on his mind because his brain is flowing with a million things a minute.

There is just something about you that lets him slow down and think about what he wants to say. He doesn't have to put up a pretense or wear a mask around you. He can be his most genuine self. He can talk about the things he enjoys more than anything without assuming somebody's going to look at him like a chicken with its head cut off. You don't know how long he has yearned for somebody who enjoys talking to him about everything and anything.

You're the kind of person that would get him out of his assumed comfort zone. He will do many things without second-guessing himself, but you're the one that gets to pull out that wild side of him that's just underneath the surface. He will wind up doing things that nobody ever expected him to try with you. There's Something Beautiful about that. It's about trust and understanding. You give him that. He can only pray that he gives you that in return.

[nerdsandqueens]

Thank you taking the time to explain the difference. I hadn't finished Veilguard yet myself when I saw all the "Mythal abused Solas" posts, so it was hard not to view everything she did through the lens of manipulation, especially considering how Flemeth treated Morrigan and how that affected her.

Ex: Morrigan waiting until a moment of desperation for the HOF to tell them about the dark ritual. Love her, but she was kind of wrong for that and I wouldn't be surprised if she'd learned that kind of behavior from Flemeth.

But honestly thinking more on the situation and Solas's character, it makes complete sense to me that he would make similar decisions regardless of Mythal's influence because he's not one to stand by and let suffering play out saying, "Well, I'm not involved so it's not my fault." (Though he takes blame for stuff that isn't his fault regardless.) He's always going to be the one to take action to try to change things.

I feel like part of him saying he's "minimizing the damage" to Varric is him justifying tearing down the veil now and making change now as opposed to waiting a few more centuries for more blights to come and the last Evanuris to fall and the veil falling anyway. (Maybe this was also in the game, but I honestly rushed through it bc I was renting someone else's computer so I missed stuff for sure-)

Anyways, sorry for rambling. I just appreciate your explanation and I love the egg wolf.

Flemeth's treatment of Morrigan was horrendous. That's one thing I remember about Origins. And it seems the writers did retcon that for the new lore. I remember reading that they said now that Flemeth never intended to possess Morrigan, despite that being the vibe back in Origins. I do like Flemythal/Mythal tho so I like the lighter characterization, but it is a tad of whiplash.

I mean no offense with this bit, but it is a touchy subject for me. I'm not sure what you mean about Morrigan being in the wrong about the god baby situation. The entire situation is such grim dark squick. I can't imagine being in her position, especially having to have sex with a man she doesn't even like if it's Alistair. That is such a skin crawling situation for a woman to be in. And it's always a plot line I hated. There was a lot of sexual victimization of women in Origins that I will never ignore about that game. City elf origin will always be an unpleasant memory. Now that I know that Dragon Age Origins took some inspiration in tone from A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones, I'm not surprised. But I wish I knew ahead of time because these stories stay in my system for a very long time. And puts me in an unpleasant headspace.

As for Solas. It seems like he was intended to not even come off as sympathetic as he does - judging by the recent ama on reddit. But at this point I prefer to rely on his characterization in Inquisition where he did seem to believe he was doing right. It reminds me of Xemnas' characterization in KH2 only for the final game to pose him as doing everything he's done just because he's evil. I prefer the philosopher interpretation for him. Even though he's supposed to be utterly irredeemable.

Thanks for the ask!