#i want to check if that was an isolated event or if it's common

[goldenliartrash]

guys has any of you ever bought something via aliexpress? is it trustworthy?

[starillusion13]

Stay with me

request: "can you do a yungi x y/n one where they're in college together kinda like a childhood bsf to lovers but poly?"

Pairing: Yunho x reader x Mingi

Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers, College Au

Warnings: they are caring bestfriends to you, mention of insult/body shaming in public by your family, reader feeling insecure, isolation, hints of skipping meals, childhood love and mention school bully and violence (just few words). Just a cute friendship to love.

W.C: 4.5k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. My first Yungi fic😁.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Now let's take a moment to appreciate my dear friend @dreamsoffanfics Thanks for helping me out and being my proofreader. A dear friend indeed <3.

"She isn't coming again today..." Yunho said and sat beside his friend. The other glanced at him and looked over at your place beside him where you usually sit.

It's been weeks that you were skipping university classes without any proper reason, just texting them that you are not feeling well or you have some important stuff to do. But not clearly explaining anything — that even you are texting them the next day. They are sick and worried for you as it's normal for your childhood best-friends to be like this.

Whenever they ask you to go to your place, you quickly respond with a negative message that you have somewhere to go or someone to meet.

Nobody knows what's the actual matter with you.

"Do you think we should go over to her place and check on her?" Mingi asked while tapping the pen on the desk.

Yunho nodded before pulling out his phone to check for your message but nothing was there to his disappointment. "I am really worried about her. She has never been like this. I don't know why but after returning from her hometown, she is acting weird."

"Did her parents tell her anything again?" Mingi rested his elbow on the table and leaned to his side.

Yunho made an unsure expression to his question and dropped his shoulders. He shook his head when he remembered the last interaction with you when he met you at the convenience store.

…..

"Y/n, why don't you say no to your parents directly? I'm sure that they won't be denying it."

You sighed and turned towards him before picking up the nearest packet of chips in the basket,"And you think that? You are so wrong, Yuyu. They don't care about my opinions."

"But you can try explaining them. I'm sure they will understand." Yunho placed a milk package in the basket to which you glared at him and he sent you his puppy eyes, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That's a baby milk product."

"But you are still a baby." He said and held back his laugh.

This was his common teasing with you in every place and anytime you are having any serious conversation with him and whatever, however and whenever you are with him. You would feel relying on him the most. The bestest friend indeed. There’s a continuous warmth radiating from him for which you feel loved and secured. His big frame whenever he engulfs you in a hug, there’s a silent promise to you — that no matter what he would be there for you.

…..

He sighed when he imagined your face – irritated but laughing with him for the last time that day. After that day, you went to your hometown as it was the end of exam season and you didn’t meet your family for a long time. Last break, you were sick and had so many pending projects for several events that you opted for staying back on campus and completing them before it was too late.

It was late afternoon when they both finally had their last class and packed up their bags to leave the university. Anyways, they were not actually planning to stay there though. Mingi texted you a lot of times during the classes but some you ignored and to some, you replied with one word or just some common usual replies.

They both checked the timing and went towards the parking lot. Yunho took out the keys from his jacket’s pocket and Mingi was quick to enter the passenger seat. Both of them were in a hurry. They were eager to meet you. Before starting the engine, Yunho sighed deeply. A look of worry was visible on his face.

“I hope she is fine.”

Mingi nodded and patted his shoulder, “I’m sure, she is.”

…….

“Yah! Min…did you just eat my snacks yesterday?” stomping your feet, you reached the living room and stood in front of said man and glared at him.

He was so into the video game that he didn’t see your anger but just waved his hand and tried to push you aside. You hit his hand and the controller fell from his hold and sulkily he looked at your face.

“I was about to win the game.” He whined and leaned back into the couch.

“And I am about to eat you if you don't give me my snacks back.”

“Which one?” He furrowed his brows and crunched up his nose. “I’m gonna tell Yunho to buy them for you on his way back home.”

“No. Why’ll he buy it? You ate them and it’s your responsibility to buy them. And you know very well which snacks I’m talking about.” You pulled him up and dragged him towards the door, he was whining on his way but you ignored him and gestured to him to hurry up. “Don’t give me faces.” You folded your hands.

“But that store is far away.”

“And you know how to drive.”

……

While driving to your place, they stopped by some places to buy flowers, chocolates, ice cream and your favorite foods. When Yunho took a box of chocolates, he smiled at the thought of your smiling and excited face after receiving it. He puffed his cheeks and grabbed some other things as well.

Similarly, Mingi was smiling all the way when he bought your favorite ice-cream. He knew how you would jump on your feet after seeing it. He couldn't content his own happiness while buying it.

Apart from all these, they still called you to check on you. Yeah, after ignoring a few calls, you finally decided to pick up. The line was silent at first but then they heard shuffle sounds from the other side, Yunho was quick to speak into the call.

“What are you doing, y/n?” His voice was soft yet demanding.

They heard your deep sigh before your voice, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?”

“If I was really doing something then I could have told you. I was just laying on my bed and …..thinking.”

Actually, that was the main thing, they wanted to know whether you were at your apartment or not. If they would have asked you directly, then you could have got the hint of them wanting to come over to your place and you would have quickly made up a reason to avoid them.

Why actually were you avoiding them in the first place?

“Okay, then keep laying down and think.”

Yunho glared at Mingi at his weird reply but the latter just blinked at the phone in his hold and at him. They heard your chuckle and a little smile appeared on their faces. Atleast, you laughed— maybe a little.

“Why did you call me? Where are you both?”

“We are–”

Yunho cut Mingi’s answer, “hanging out.”

“Oh…okay. Have fun!” you tried to sound more enthusiastic but they could feel the sadness.

They didn’t drag the conversation because they knew that in a few minutes, they would be at your place and then you couldn’t ignore them or their questions. And this time, they would be surely erasing all your worries and sadness.

.

.

.

Almost after fifteen minutes, you heard your doorbell ring. You groaned at the thought of someone coming to your place at this time and you glared at your bedroom door. You got up from the bed and yawned before stepping in front of the mirror. You made a disgusted face at your reflection and combed your hair with just your fingers.

The bell rang again and you scoffed before mumbling under your breath while making your way towards the main door.

“Let me see whether I look like a human or not or it won't be my fault if you get scared.”

You peeked through the peephole and you were surprised to see your bestfriends standing at your doorstep on the other side. You quickly opened the door and your round eyes were staring at them.

“You both? Here…now?” you asked but slowly moved aside to welcome them inside. Mingi gave you the flowers they bought for you and smiling, you took them. You noticed paper bags in their hand and after closing the door, you followed them to the kitchen when they placed the bags on the kitchen counter. You stood beside Mingi who gave you a bright smile and started taking out the items from the bag. Your eyes were recognizing each little thing was your favorite as if they bought things for a child who was whining for all their favorites.

He grabbed the ice-cream bucket and turned towards you, “This was the last box and I quickly bought it for you. I hope you won't be angry with me again if I ever eat your snacks.” he took the flowers from your hand and tugged them in the vase on the counter top.

“Mingi..” You groaned but quickly took the tub from his hand. You wasted no time and opened the lid. You watched Yunho place some things inside your refrigerator but he approached you with a red box in his hand. You furrowed your brows when he placed it in your free hand.

“Chocolates for my cutie.”

When you noticed the ribbon on top of the box, your eyes went wide, “Don't tell me you went to that store to buy this. This is so expensive.”

“But you are more expensive.” He said and raised a brow at you, challenging.

You laughed at his antics and shook your head, “You both are spoiling me too much.”

“Of course. We love to spoil you.” Mingi said with a smug look.

Your couch had a lot of clothes and books so you asked them to follow you to your bedroom. They both were quick to trail behind like lost puppies but they exchanged looks because they both were hesitant to ask you about the time after returning from your hometown.

Entering your bedroom, they found out that it looked like as if some disaster happened over there. You were never that messy and disorganized. You rolled your eyes at the mess but offered them the free space around the bed.

You scooted towards the headboard and they placed themselves close to you. You offered some chocolates to both of them and you scooped a spoon full of ice cream and put it in your mouth.

“This will always be my favorite.” You offered two separate spoons to them and extended your hand so that they could eat the ice cream. They took small bites.

“So why are you here suddenly? You didn’t even inform me before coming.”

“Because you wouldn’t have allowed us to come here like other days.” Mingi muttered and kept staring at you. Hearing those words from him, you avoided his eyes at any cost and looked down at your lap. You were guilty but also the reasons for which you were avoiding them were running across your mind.

You bit your lip and wanted to disappear from their gazes. But Yunho scooted closer to you. You felt his knees touching yours and his warm hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, Y/n. What’s the matter?”

You avoided his gaze but only to make eye contact with Mingi. You closed your eyes and cursed yourself for behaving like this. But no matter how you feel like running away from them, you still want to stay close. You want to hear their soothing voices talking to you. Spend time with them.

“Y/n…” Mingi pronounced your name softly.

You took a deep breath before looking at him and then to Yunho. Your eyes wandered around his face. A perfect, sweet, soft and confident person in front of you. Excellent in every aspect. Good looking, handsome and tall just like Mingi but who is more intimidating than him.

Yunho’s eyes wandered around your face, he was searching for your discomfort, your sadness and what was the reason you were ignoring him and his friend.

“Am I really not good?” You asked him in a hushed voice. Your shaky pupils and lips between your teeth was making him hesitant.

Why was he feeling that? Is he worried or angry? Angry with you? Because you ignored him all these last days?

“Who said that? You are the best.” Mingi rubbed your back and your body shivered under his touch. Yunho cupped your face in his palms and stared at you, urging you to speak more, “Tell us please. Why were you avoiding us?”

“I didn’t avoid you. I was thinking…”

“You think a lot. What were you even thinking?” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, slightly brushing your lips. Your tears were lining your eyes. You didn’t mind crying in front of them, you have cried before since middle school until now, you have cried to both of them but they never judged you.

But his heart was aching to see you like that, so vulnerable in his hold. You held his wrists tightly when he gave you a small smile.

“I’m feeling insecure lately. Don’t feel like doing anything.”

“Why?”

“This break, I went to a family function with my parents and all my other cousins were present there too.”

Both of them nodded and let you continue. You bit your lower lip and stuck it between your lips.

“They pointed out to me how I have gained weight and also I’m just an average student in my university unlike others there. They were all too pretty and all had boyfriends so they called me the ugly one. Maybe, I am really how they see me.”

“No Y/n, you are not. Don’t take those words to heart. Ignore them.”

“But I can’t, Mingi. Those words are hitting me as if I can still hear them telling me those things repeatedly. You know what's worse about this. My mom laughed with them, she was supporting their accusations.”

“I never liked your mom.”

You turned to Yunho when he said that and you raised your brows, “She didn’t like you either. She always thought that you were a bad influence on me. But she just let me be friends with you only because you are rich.” Then again you turned towards Mingi, “About you, she thought you were some sort of rebellious kid like a gangster because she always saw teachers complaining to your parents regarding your fights.”

“It’s your fault. You are the one who threatened me not to tell your mom that those students were disturbing you so when they didn't stop. I knew I had to beat them.” Mingi smiled after recalling those beautiful memories.

He added, “And that’s how we became friends. Remember?” You nodded while remembering those happy days. Yunho was holding your hands in his and Mingi patted your head, “We missed you these days. You were not talking with us.”

“I was searching for a boyfriend.”

“Really?” He asked you and hesitantly looked between Mingi and you, you felt him squeezing your hands. You nodded but sighed again, “Kidding. I was…isolating myself.”

“Why am I like this?” You asked with a whisper.

“But who would ever love to have an ugly girl like me as their girlfriend?”

“Like what sweetie?” Yunho questioned. ”And don’t even question yourself. You are perfect.”

You took a few seconds, collecting your thoughts. Yunho and Mingi wait patiently, Yunho running a soft hand through your hair and with his other one entangling his fingers with you. You inhaled softly and lifted your head up to make eye contact with both of them. Your mind was hazy with lots of thoughts.

“I feel so pathetic. I feel like I can’t ever do anything correctly. Why do I feel like this? I get overwhelmed by little work and this college stuff. I can’t handle the gossip about me and I feel like I fail at everything. It’s just… too much.” A tear slid down your cheeks and Yunho looked at you with eyes that held so many emotions.

He would do absolutely anything for you, if only it meant it would guarantee your happiness. Mingi was the same, he would again beat anyone for you. He would go to any extreme end just to ensure your well being and that you are smiling.

After all, Mingi first fell for you on the day when he first beat a boy who was making fun of you in front of the whole class. You were crying and he had enough, so he punched the guy across his cheek but the way you stared at him after that, even when he was getting scolded from the teacher, that's when he couldn’t help but smile at you and you gave your bright and wide smile.

That smile did something to him.

He fell in love with you. But you both were just kids.

So, you both became best friends.

Yunho was a transfer student who was a shy and quiet one in the beginning. And somehow they both were placed at the same bench, they quickly became friends. He joined the dance club after exactly one year of friendship with Mingi. Yunho was quick to become a social butterfly. He knew everyone around the school, mostly because of his dance club membership.

But there was this one thing. Even though he got compliments from others, he always wanted to hear your comments on his dance moves and if you ever said just a word like ‘good’, he would smile foolishly as if he achieved something. After every performance, he would search for you in the audience and could find you clapping excitedly at him with Mingi beside you.

You didn't know but whenever you were not around both of them their main topic was about you. They used to talk about you with admiration and love towards you. This was the main reason for them to become friends. And they followed you to the same university.

And they still think about you like that everyday.

“Oh Y/n, you’re not pathetic. Not at all. Everyone has different capabilities, and that’s completely fine. You have so many talents, so many amazing people around you who appreciate you. And you are so beautiful. You’re our girl aren’t you? The only one for us.” Yunho looked at you expectantly with an adoration in his eyes.

There was a look of worry on their faces similar to whenever you felt sick and he would rush to your place to take care of you and soon after Mingi comes with medicines and food.

You looked away, not meeting his eyes but Mingi caught your eyes and raised a brow. You quickly replied, “Yes, yes I am.”

His breath hitched when you said those words while staring at him. Both of their hearts felt warm but there was something more, they wanted to say. Something that they think of now is the right time. Maybe…there's also uncertainty in the air.

He beamed with delight. “That’s right baby, you’re our girl, and always will be.” Mingi added to his friend's words, ”We’re here to take care of you. I know things are hard, but I will do whatever I can to make it easier for you.” Your heart aches from the care you’re being shown. You love your bestfriends so much.

You hold so much love and respect for them that you’re not sure how to even contain it. You just feel like exploding with affection. When you again felt like crying on the thought, Mingi pushed a spoon full of ice cream in your mouth, “The ice cream is melting like you.”

“Mingi…” you whined with teary eyes. They both laughed at you when you snatched the tub from him and placed it on your lap.

“Y/n, can I ask you something? Please don’t hate me or him after this. But I really want to tell you this. Can I?” He asked.

“Of course, Yuyu. you can tell me anything.” Mingi wiped your tears and you smiled towards him before turning your whole attention on Yunho. Your eyes eagerly waited for him to say whatever he wanted and he glanced at Mingi who nodded and looked back at you. Yunho again held your hands, squeezed them a little and brought them to his lips. These sweet gestures were common to you from him but you felt so nervous this time. Your heart beat increased with every second.

Is he going to end your friendship after this? Are they tired of your dramatic breakdowns?

“Will you be our girl, Y/n?”

You blinked at him and looked at them confused, “Am I not already?”

Mingi chuckled, “Not that silly. Will you be our girl? Our girlfriend?......Please.” he whispered the last part.

For a moment, you thought that they were joking but when you found them staring at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

“Are you joking?”

“No…”

You quickly turned around and hugged Mingi, “Please tell me. This is not a joke.”

“It’s not.”

“Then, am I dreaming?”

“No silly, you are not.”

You raised your head from his shoulder, he was still moving his hands up and down your back, “Yunho calls me sweetie and you call me silly. This is not fair.”

And here you go.

Mingi cupped your face in his hand and pressed a soft kiss in the middle of your forehead and smiled dearly at you, “You are my silly girl. My silly…only mine.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “Don't gatekeeper her to yourself. We agreed to mutual this between us. I said ‘our’ specifically but you are saying only yours.”

You looked between both of them and licked your lips before muttering slowly, “Are you pitying me?”

“Y/n…” Yunho called your name with love and held your hands before shaking his head, “we all are different in our own ways. And you are perfect for us. We have seen the imperfect you…the real you. We have seen the ugly versions of you and also the pretty versions of you. But we loved the unfiltered version. The version which felt like you were mine. You are mine.”

“Why do I feel like you are calling me ugly but in a sweet way?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Yuyu…” You hit his arm and continued, “I will ask Mingi to beat you.”

He scoffed, “He can't because he is too weak.”

The latter laughed when you stuck out a tongue at his friend.

“But……isn’t it wrong for both of you to love me? What will others think?”

“I don’t care about others. Are you uncomfortable with this? Say it, Y/n. Are you?”

You shook your head when Mingi turned your face to him, “We want to hear you. Say it please.”

“No. I’m not. I’m happy……I like both of you.” You muttered under your breath.

“What? I can’t hear you. Did you hear something, Yunho?” Mingi creased his forehead and asked his friend who pulled you on his lap and leaned your back on his chest and held both of your hands in front and rocked you in his hold. “No, Mingi I didn’t hear anything.”

“Yeah. because I didn't say anything.”

They both started laughing loudly when they saw you shyly looking down and Yunho rested his chin on top of your head, “But I love my sweet girl the most.” he placed a kiss and softly confessed, “I love you, Y/n.”

You held his hand and played with his fingers. You felt him nuzzling into your hair when you closed your eyes and smiled, “I love you too, Yunho.”

Mingi scooted closer, sitting in front of you he cupped your face and you quickly looked at his face expectantly when he confessed, “I love my silly girl. I love you so much, Y/n.”

“And I hate my snacks thief. I love you toooooo, Mingi.”

He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and nose, filled with overwhelming love and care.

“Now come on, Y/n. I know you aren’t eating properly these days. So let’s eat the food we bought for you earlier.”

“ I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry.” You smiled brightly and looked at them with a fake pout.“But thank you for all the love and care. I’m so full with it.”

“Uh uh, don’t give me that look. You’re eating, and that’s the end of this conversation.” He said in a stern voice before standing up. You crawled away from him when Mingi caught you in his arms and stood up holding you bridal style and heading to the kitchen, trailing behind Yunho who was singing your favorite song.

Mingi placed you at the table, letting you watch the other one prepare plates. You were swinging your legs back and forth, already feeling so much better and humming the song with him. Mingi went back into the bedroom and came back with the ice cream tub to put into the fridge and sat next to you. He joked and sometimes said some nonsense to make you laugh and you giggled uncontrollably.

He could see the little you laughing with him in the classroom.

“You are finally mine, Y/n. The girl I adored and loved for all these years. The girl whose smile I love the most is smiling at me and sitting with me not as a friend but as my girlfriend.” He held your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“I’m so happy that my bestfriend is my boyfriend and you are the one who can only annoy me and steal my snacks. Oh wait! You have to buy me more snacks now or I am breaking up with you.” You faked a shocked expression.

“Not sorry to disturb you but she is our girlfriend. My best supporter. Here comes the food.” Yunho swirled on his feet and placed the food dramatically on the table, having the silliest look on his face.

You screeched with laughter. “Yunho, my jealous baby.” He sat across from you and pushed the plates towards you both.

“Oh? Now I’m your baby. Last time I checked it was you who bought baby milk products. ” He grabbed his fork and pointed at you with squinted eyes as if he’s in deep thought. You let out a scoff at his antics and he raises an eyebrow at you, “I didn't. You were annoying me.”

“Oh…okay..now let’s talk less and eat more..”

You excitedly nodded and dug into the food. Their eyes followed your actions and they shared looks between them with little smiles appearing on their faces. They nodded towards each other and started eating the food with you.

And they promised to themselves that no matter what the situation is, they will always stay by your side. They still kept the friendship letter from you which you gave them for the first time during Christmas and they would always fulfill your wish.

‘Stay with me……always.’

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[bamgyw]

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the third night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"i gave myself to satan, i should be a wrinkly old witch by now. my hair a tangle of venomous serpents, my skin green like a toad, black flames coursing through my veins." - belladonna of sadness.

cw: +18 so. blowjob (main event). long ass aftercare. hm. pet names. i suck at adding the tags. anyway. themes of misogyny and parental abuse. catholic guilt (expected). i always end up becoming desensitized from reading and checking it so many times, so it’s probably much filthier to the common of mortals than to me. and what else. no i think that's it. a/n: i am so sorry for shamelessly lying to you, i'm never promising a fixed update time every again. i can't help it, i do be a perfectionist. anyway. this part is long as fuck, sorry about that too. hope u like it. hehe. kisses. this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here

desire is sin, and sin is death. that was the grim truth that had sunk into your mind. a persistent, gnawing thought ever since beomgyu closed the door behind him. it was your only rule, how could you had forgotten? how could you have been so stupid?

shame and mud had taken root in your body, their claws perforating their way through your soul and clutching every rosy thought, choking them all into submission. slut, nympho, mary magdalene, whore.

you were haunted by the memory of his touch, the warmth of his breath against your skin, the whisper of his words in your ear and the pain of knowing it was all wrong, sinful and forbidden. it was a sweet torture, a reminder of what you had lost and what you could never have again. not if you wanted this shame to go away.

if he had stayed, perhaps his warmth could have filled the void within you, congesting your body with butterflies and hydrangea blooms before the self-condemnation had a chance to seep in, oozing out your mouth, your ears, your cunt like a gooey toxin.

but he left, and you were alone. in that icy isolation, you came to realise that you would always be alone. letting him in had been as mindless as it had been short-lived.

he was your foolish indulgence, a desire fragile like a stained glass window that your daddy would shatter the moment he found out. just like he had with soobin.

so the morning after, you woke with tear-streaked cheeks, the dried remnants of your sorrow clinging to your skin.

your eyes opened faintly and with trouble with the first sun ray. they were swollen, your vision blurry from the hours of crying. your body ached from the tension, muscles stiff and sore from the night spent curled up in a pathetic ball.

you sighed deeply, the exhale carrying with it a fraction of your guilt and mortification, but not nearly enough to ease the tightness in your chest. you were physically clean, but you felt stained to your core.

like lady macbeth, desperate to wash the non-existent blood from her hands, you felt that anyone could detect the evidences of your crime. your missing rosary beads, the slightly reddened neck, the scent of him on you. if daddy barely even looked you in the eye, you were certain he would know.

the scant sleep you managed to get was haunted by nightmares—daddy's cheshire grin glowing phosphorescent in the darkness, while you cried out in beastly moans against beomgyu's neck.

it felt like an omen, a premonition that if this continued, you would inevitably be discovered. desire is sin, and sin is death.

the sensation of your bare cunt against the sheets did nothing to alleviate the flesh-eating sadism of your shame. you lay there, feeling exposed and vulnerable, the absence of your underwear only amplifying your discomfort.

a chill ran through you, mingling with the dampness that clung to your groin. the moisture on your body had felt nurturing the night before, a sign that your were alive, that you had the capability to love. but now it felt foreign and intrusive.

you reached down to touch your cunt, feeling the sticky residue from the previous night. disgust gnawed at you.

you had cried yourself to sleep without cleaning yourself up and now your soggy, sickening cum clung to you like a noxious reminder of your sin. like you were rotten inside, leaking with venom. you buried your face in the pillow and cried again, your sobs muffled.

without his voice, that sticky liquid was just snot; without him there, the memory of his touch disfigured into that of a nameless hand of the devil fucking into you, and yourself feasting on it like a wild beast.

you rushed to the bathroom, driven by urgency. you felt like you were going to throw up, but you only gagged, your stomach empty. "it's all in your head," your body seemed to say. "we're fine, you're fine." but you couldn't comprehend the language. for all your life, you had only ever listened to your mind.

your reflection distorted in the mirror, a stranger in your own eyes. you were always poised, you were always composed. but the blood injected in your eyes, strained from the crying made you look like a madwoman. breath came in gasps as you stared at yourself, eyes wide with desperation.

your hands trembled as you turned on the faucet, the cold metal biting into your skin. water rushed out violently, crashing over you. each drop felt sharp, like tiny knives against your flesh.

with a desperate breathing, heavy like the room was devoid of oxygen, you attacked your skin, nails digging deep as you scrubbed. the water turned red. desire is sin, and sin is death. desire is sin, and sin is death.

desire is sin and sin is death, but like baptism washed away the original sin, water could purify you again, sterilise your body. clean his being off of you. with each scrub, you fought to erase his touch, leaving raw skin in your wake.

when you were done washing up, you hid it all the best way you knew; under layers of clothes, thick and opaque, not a visible centimetre of skin outside your face.

you walked through your house, eyes glued to the floor, as if you had stumbled into a cathedral bare naked. the saints and apostles on their holy cards stared down at you, their gazes heavy with sorrow. they had watched you grow up from a good little girl into a tainted whore.

even saint sebastian, the christian apollo, offered no mercy. the blood-stained arrows pierced his flesh, and his blood-thirsty eyes pierced you whole. a faint smell of incense lingered in the air, the ghostly reminder of daddy's morning prayers.

but there was one last saint to face, the most hurting martyr of them all. as you reached the bottom of the staircase, soobin stood in the hall, leaning against the front door.

he wore that same charcoal grey sweater he always wore to college, forever unchanged, like a character from an animated sitcom. and, as always, he was there waiting to drive you to school. but that morning, you wondered if he could smell your fear.

“you slept in?” soobin asked, his tone flat.

“y-yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “but i can skip breakfast. let’s just go.”

“you should eat something,” he insisted with a slight shrug. “you must be tired.”

your breath hitched, and a cold sweat formed at the back of your neck. “why do you say that?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“you never sleep in. you must’ve had a tough night,” he observed, his eyes searching yours for a moment before looking away.

“kind of, yeah.” you moved towards the kitchen, your steps hesitant. "i had nightmares. all night long."

he walked after you into the kitchen, silent and stealthy like a shadow. you grabbed a plain bagel from the counter, spreading a thin layer of cream cheese on it. your hands shook slightly, the knife slipping once, smearing the cream cheese unevenly.

he leaned against the opposite counter, watching you as you faced away from him, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. there was an unsettling calm about him, a relaxed stillness that would have been reassuring if it were anyone else, but not soobin. "beomgyu has trouble sleeping too," he said, his voice almost too soft, too casual.

you chewed your lip before turning to face him, trying to maintain a facade of calm. "and you do too. must be this house," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

you took a swift turn and walked out of the kitchen, your head held high. but your heart pounded against your chest like a drum. he knows. he knows. he knows. or maybe he doesn’t.

desire is sin, and sin is death. and now you had to wait, trapped in the uncertainty of not knowing whether your brother, cain, would betray you and get you killed. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

there was always a puddle of muddy dirt at the entrance of the school. even if it didn't rain, the ground was perpetually wet. a slick, treacherous mess that swallowed feet and soiled shoes.

you couldn't trust that ground. you couldn't trust the school. a slip-up and the back of your neck would lie cracked and open on the soil, thick blood mingling with dirt.

you stepped carefully, feeling the mud clinging to your soles. that was the revolting start to each day.

there was a sign on the entrance gate, rusty and weathered, that looked like it could give you tetanus just by looking at it. it had always made your skin crawl.

the words "sacred heart catholic university" were printed in bold letters and they seemed to be smirking. they knew they were lying. there was nothing sacred about that school, not one thing.

if you looked into the eyes of almost any professor, you would see something rotten staring back at you. it was not as wicked as it was pathetic. not grand enough for a flaming crown of hell, but rather petty and small like a worm or bloodsucking lice.

you walked through them every day; rheumy gazes and moist smirks. old men leering at bodies they couldn't touch. or they could. they had. no one was stopping them, anyway. not the dean, not the bishop, not god.

every morning began with a mandatory service, the only time when the girls' and boys' sections were allowed to gather together. you arrived in mass to the chapel, and once inside, the path divided: the male wing at the right hand of the father, the female wing to the less prestigious left. you and soobin always separated there, each heading to your respective sides.

but morning services had one small perk: mandatory as they were, there was no attendance list.

so when soobin disappeared from view, you'd slip out of the chapel. alone, you might have not dared, but you had partner in mischief, a friend. the person who had walked you hand in hand through an uncanny semblance of girlhood. yeh shuhua.

shuhua wasn’t exactly an intellectual, but she had a sharp street-smart intelligence. a keen sense of the world. she had thought a backup plan for getting caught skipping church.

"here's what we'll do," she'd say, dropping to her knees, hands clasped in prayer. "oh, dear professor," she mimicked in a whiny tone. "how can a shy girl like me pray with so many people around? my thoughts are only for god, and i must speak to him privately for comfort." she cried out, then flashed a bright grin. "the nuttier we sound, the more likely they'll believe it. remember when that girl said she could talk to the virgin mary and they brought in a vatican official to check? we just have to play innocent..."

like a faint summer breeze, shuhua was fresh and witty, and she never let that dammned school, nor its metaphysical threats, nor all the ordained priests walking around earth to turn her cold. 

she was pretty, too, a boy-candy type of beauty. with long black hair tinged with red highlights, cherry gloss-coated lips and porcelain-white skin. not a trace of catholicism tainting her youthful features.

shuhua made the world feel a little bit bigger. she always had news about celebrities you didn't know, their affairs and gossip, the pomp and glamour god rejected.

it was fun talking to her. she wasn't a remarkable friend, or what they call a soulmate. but she was there. 

until she met a boy.

lee heeseung, from the male section. only one year older than shuhua and you, but with the distorted notion of being older than the world itself and knowing more than anyone. 

it started with a few stolen glances during chapel services, innocent and demure, and escalated to shuhua going down on him in the non-functioning professor bathrooms during the easter vigil mass.

all proud and excited, shuhua had recounted every detail to you like she had just blowed jesus himself.

“you feel like choking… more so if he likes it rough. and they all do.” she said. you had never seen her act that sheepish, but there was a slutty glint of enjoyment in her eye that made it feel less out of character. “he pushed down on my head a lot, so i kept gagging,” she said. “it’s not like i loved it, but he liked it so much, my darling boy.”

you remained quiet, like you often did. it wasn’t the violence of the act what disturbed you, but the devotion in her eyes as she recounted her pain. maybe boys really were dangerous after all, slithery and deceiving.

they could get you to enjoy pleasing them even if it hurt in the flesh. they were gods, demanding piety, and fathers, exacting control.

heeseung and shuhua started using their time skipping service to be together. it wasn´t shuhua and you anymore. it was heeseung and shuhua, and the malleable puppet of your physical body. 

they had asked you to stay with them as a sort of chaperone to mitigate the risk of getting caught. but at some point, heeseung began to pity you—or perhaps he found it too awkward to grope shuhua with you just standing there. so, he started bringing a friend to keep you entertained. you would have preferred he hadn’t.

choi yeonjun had beautiful flowy hair, and a charming smile, and he lived in a big vast playground he owned, called the world. his confidence bordered on tyranny, and that made him untouchable.

a disgustingly rich boy he was; the kind of rich that gets you into heaven. his father was a man who owned lands and homes, therefore owning other men. another dictator, just another man playing god.

"he's into you, you know?" shuhua's voice rang out as you both strolled through the tall grass toward your usual meeting spot. "you should cut the prude act and give him a chance." she said.

the blades brushed against your ankles, tickling your skin as they swayed gently in the breeze. the further away from school, the freer. even the landscape knew that.

"he's not worth a chance," you replied, stone-cold.

shuhua shot you a disapproving look and said, "you're beyond help, honestly." pausing to apply a fresh layer of gloss to her lips, the shimmer catching the light. "it's choi yeonjun. they don't make 'em better than that."

"he's cruel. and he acts like god’s favourite," you retorted, your voice definitive. "i don't like that."

the grass crunched underfoot, the rhythm of your steps a steady thrum against the silence. ahead, two human shapes, tall and slender took form—the two boys, blurred smudges sharpening into clarity as you drew closer. 

the moment shuhua’s eyes landed on heeseung, she couldn't contain herself and broke into a sprint, her skirt flying up recklessly as her legs blurred in a skipping motion towards her darling boy. her arms clutched at his neck, desperate and clinging, while heeseung’s bold hand slipped beneath the fabric of her skirt to grasp flesh, squishing her ass like an anxiety toy.

even before dating heeseung, shuhua had always favored a smuttiness to her clothes. however, the style had transformed into a sort of charicature of a schoolgirl since they started seeing each other. there was some freudian notion to the flimsy short skirts paired with the nunnish argyle cardigans that drove heeseung insane. 

the black cotton of your tapered slacks felt suddenly itchy against your legs. hot, suffocating.

"ice princess," yeonjun's voice broke through your thoughts, sharp, clear, uninvited. he stood slightly apart from the others, his eyes fixed on you with the usual blend of mocking and blatantly checking you out. "let me carry your bag." 

"it's not heavy," you answered curtly. heeseung and shuhua remained oblivious to the exchange, lost in their own world where the lines between love and possession blurred.

“oh, come on,” yeonjun's grin widened with a mischievous glint like sunlight flickering across the shards of broken glass, alluring yet sharp enough to cut. "let me take care of my pretty girl." 

“i’m not your girl.” you clutched the strap of your bag tighter to your side. "and we’re not in high-school. i can carry my own stuff." you said before continuing to walk.

he snorted out a laugh, then followed after.

the usual hangout spot was just a collection of rocks aligned almost like a table, their jagged edges softened by the creeping moss that clung to them like a blanket. the air was cleaner there, untainted by the scent of trampled grass and stale corridors.

shuhua perched on those stony pews, her legs folding beneath her with ease. in her lap, heeseung found a cradle for his head, his hair spilling over her thighs like dark silk being tenderly spun by her fingertips.

you sat nearby, your knees drawn up tight to your chest, arms wrapped around them as if they could shield you from the cursed memory of the night you had spent with beomgyu from slipping out of you.

yeonjun hovered close, too close, as he usually did, his body heat radiating onto your skin in waves. at times, he'd lean back, propping himself on an arm just inches from you, his weight shifting the balance of your shared rock. 

his hand would reach —a bird of prey circling before the dive—to toy with a lock of your hair. you felt the sweep of his fingertips, not quite touching the scalp, a ghostly sensation that prickled your neck.

and most times, you just let him do it. it was a twisted ritual of near-touches, the most explicit thing you would ever allow him to do to you.

sometimes he would lean into your ear and whisper “you're a cockteasing slut, you know?”, with words meant to burn. they tingled in your ears down to your pussy. then came in a nervous gaze you tried to hide, the redenning cheeks, and yeonjun’s stupid smirk when he noticed it all.

the attention you got from yeonjun was addictive and tingly like crystal meth. his warmth was a tepid thing, a sun struggling through winter clouds. it wasn't real, it wasn't love. barely even affection. just an obsession-driven lust. but it was enough for you not to die of hypothermia, frozen by your own frigidity.

or at least it had been enough, before beomgyu.

there was no room for yeonjun in yourself, not anymore. he didn't feel warm. he didn't feel like anything. not when every cell in your body thrummed with the echo of beomgyu's name.

that day, you kept batting yeonjun’s hand away from your hair, denying the only bit of you that had belonged to him. but he always reached out again, insistent, stubborn as weeds in cracked pavement. 

"stop it," you told him under your breath, the whisper harsh against the backdrop of wet kissing sounds from the happy couple.

"what?" he asked with a shrug and a cocky pout. his feigned innocence was as thin as paper. "you have open ends…" he trailed off, fingers splitting an open-ended hair into two.

"i like them like that," you snapped, the words sharp. "just get away."

"playing hard to get?" he prodded, his grin all teeth and no humor.

"playing 'leave me alone,'" you shot back, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself.

a laugh bubbled up from shuhua's throat, rich and unbothered. she lounged like a cat in sunlight, her eyes half-lidded. "woah, feeling extra-prudish today, no?"

heeseung's gaze flickered with something akin to mischief. "she's probably scared because of the kim minjeong thing," he smirked.

"the kim minjeong thing?" you echoed. "what happened?"

heeseung stirred like a cat on shuhua’s lap with a shit-eating grin. 

"her daddy found out she had a boyfriend. got real mad." he explained. "the man dragged her to the dean's office gripped by her hair. she kept ugly crying, it was freaky." his eyes didn't waver; they held the morbid fascination of one watching a car crash. "the dad kept going on and on about the school not being able to keep girls in line, shouting like a madman. they ran a virginity test on her to settle it.”

a gasp caught in your throat, strangled, "w-what's a virginity test?"

heeseung's grin sliced through, cruel and sharp as a kitchen knife. "they stick cloth up your pussy, and if it comes out with blood, you're safe. if not, well, the executioner will choose the punishment, i guess.”

you felt your face flush, heat creeping into your cheeks. this type of intrusion, a cruel infringement disguised as safeguarding, was the kind of love that fathers, kings, and gods like to exert.

"it's a twisted thing," came in shuhua, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with a delicate flick of her wrist. "don't you get even more puritanical because of it, sweetie. it has no scientific avail. if we were underage or something like that… that would be one thing, but– i don’t know. it's just barbaric..."

heeseung replied in a mock stern tone, making the lazy impression of a war general, "age doesn't change anything.” he said. “no sex before marriage."

your hands were sweating against the fabric of your pants as you stammered out, "c-couldn't they tell if you...like, touch yourself?"

yeonjun's predatory smirk widened as he leaned in closer. his response was a simple question; "why, babygirl, would that worry you?" he kept his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your armour to break.

"of course not," you muttered, forcing out the lie through your dry throat. "just curious." you continued, trying to sound nonchalant, "i mean, it could get someone in trouble for virtually nothing."

"virtually indeed.” heeseung snorted with a laugh. he picked at the grass beneath him. “it all depends on how you define virginity," he said with a casual shrug. "for the salivating creeps who take those tests seriously, fucking only means sticking something inside of something else. so i guess that if you've only fucked yourself by… you know…” he made a crude gesture with a shit-eating grin. “then you’re still pure as virgin mary.” 

“that doesn’t feel pure, either.” you said. you thought back to the previous night when beomgyu's fingers had teased your clit, and you couldn't help but feel a familiar twitch. you pushed the memory out of your mind, shaking your head as if trying to scare away a pesky bug.

“non-penetration sex is not pure, but it’s not patriarchal, either. so it doesn’t count.” shuhua said. 

yeonjun’s next comment different in political aspiration. he leaned into your ear, "don't you ever go needy like that, baby" he said, his eyes fixed on you with a confidence you wished you could scrape off with your fingernails. “if it aches down there i can kiss it better.” he said. heeseung chuckled complicitly with a hollowed laugh.

"zip it, the both of you." shuhua's voice sliced through their banter, sharp and clear. such fierceness for a girl drowning in a pastel pink sweater. "honey, that test is total bullshit. it just checks if your hymen is torn or not. it’s this little membrane up your pussy which men have historically used to shame girls. it can tear riding a bike or with a tampon or whatever. it's stupid."

you nodded, but you weren’t convinced. you didn't think daddy would believe it. if they ran that test on you and you didn't bleed, what would you tell him? that you rode a bike too hard? he would never buy that.

heeseung snorted out a grating laugh. "she says it’s stupid now, but i survived the first month we were together off of blowjobs. she was scared stiff of anything going up there because of that damn test."

shuhua leaned in close, hed breath a warm whisper against heeseung’s ear, "like you can complain, you love it when i go down on you." her hand trailed along the sharp line of his jaw, fingertips barely grazing his skin before coming to rest at the dip of his throat. 

heeseung's cocky smirk grew wider as he leaned back on his hands, the rocky ground beneath him serving as his makeshift throne. "you know," he drawled out, "there's something so fucking heavenly about having a girl on her knees for you. i dunno... you feel like a king."

a flicker of your lip gave away your true thoughts, an unintentional twitch. heeseung's language was coarse, but there was an odd poetry in the way he spoke this time.

you thought of beomgyu. beomgyu your king, beomgyu the only one you would ever want to crown like that. your lips around his dick, his low voice praising you. calling you his baby, his little angel.

slut, nympho, mary magdalene, whore. said shame.

a flush of heat crept up your cheeks, betraying the sudden surge of nerves that coursed through your body. "i...should get going," you blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush. "service will be over soon," you added quickly, hoping to cut off any potential objections and make your escape before things became too awkward. 

grabbing your bag, you hurried away from the group, taking quick and hurried steps. but it wasn't long before yeonjun caught up with you.

"wait!" his voice shattered the tense silence, causing you to stop mid-stride and turn to face him. 

"what do you want?" you asked, tone curt.

"what do i have to do for you to stop giving me the cold shoulder?" he asked, his grin widening as he continued to close the distance between you.

your voice sliced through his hopes with practiced precision, a sharp edge honed by too many similar conversations. "nothing, really," you replied firmly. "but what you can do is stop deluding yourself into thinking that anything will ever happen between us.”

yeonjun's grin didn't falter, but something flickered in his gaze—a brief shadow of disappointment he quickly masked. he trailed behind you like a persistent breeze, impossible to shake off.

"don’t you think you overdid it today? the whole nun act?” he asked, the corners of his lips curling slightly. there was always malice behind his playfulness. "you can’t fool me, you know? girls who act all cold like you are always the filthiest.”

your muscles tensed. “is calling me a slut the best you've got?”

“come on, i know you're needy," yeonjun said confidently, taking a step closer to you. he reached for your hand, but you flinched it away before he could touch you. "you have to be… pretty girl like you, restraining yourself... i could make you feel so good. put that mouth of yours to good use.”

"seriously, will you ever cut it?" you spat out. "i don't want you. i don't care about you. just forget about me."

you saw his lips press, his nostrils flare. sick of him, you turned to walk away, but his voice cut through the air like a sharp blade.

"is there someone else?" he suddenly asked, and you could hear the hint of desperation in his voice.

you froze in your place. "w-what?"

"you always get all flushed and bothered when i say nasty shit to you." he said. "but you keep acting up today, like you don't need me anymore. are you seeing someone?"

"leave me alone, i never needed you." you said, shoving him hard in the chest. he stumbled back, surprise flickering in his eyes before it hardened into something darker.

"touchy, aren't we?" he regained his balance, his grin resembling shards of broken glass. "i liked you with the good little girl image, but it gets me so fucking hard when you say no to me like this, too."

you hissed, taking a step back. all you wanted was space, air, anything to cleanse yourself from the filth of his words. you turned around and left with quick, heavy steps.

yeonjun watched you go, satisfaction gleaming in his predatory gaze. "even if you don't tell me, i’ll find out!" he called after you, his voice carrying on the breeze, "and you're smart enough to know that secrets are only safe if everyone keeps their mouths shut."

you didn't look back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

helios ploughed the sky with his chariot and night fell everywhere in the house of god except in your room.

it was a deliberate postponement the night-time. a way of protecting the sanctity of your holy prison cell. your safe, warm, constraining prison cell.

you had stood under the shower for a second time that day before climbing into bed, letting the scalding water clatter softly against your face for what felt like hours. you lingered there, breathing in the steam, until your were sure you had washed away any residual trace of lust

you dried your hair with rough, almost angry strokes until it was dehydrated and feathery, and brushed it until the strands, dampened into thick locks, turned soft enough that you wouldn't dare allow anyone to tangle it again.

anyone. the devil. him.

the nightdress you had worn the night before, the one he had touched, lay discarded on the floor. a fleeting thought of burning it crossed your mind. maybe you would do it the next day. integral purification. eradicate the slightest trace of him.

you changed into a cotton short set, one childish enough to be laughable. cute little lilies over a pinkish backcloth. and to further on that naive illusion of shelter, you wrapped yourself into a black hoodie that had once belonged to soobin, its oversized warmth swallowing you whole as you sought to disappear within it.

the scent of almond soap and sanctifying shampoo lingered in the air as you sat on the bed with the lights still on. daddy went to sleep, soobin inserted himself inside his bed for yet another night of staring at the ceiling. the house of god fell silent. 

you hugged your legs, repeating to yourself that desire is sin, and sin is death as a nightly prayer. but when you finally turned off the light, the darkness only amplified the pounding of your heart. he would come. and you would have to ignore him.

maybe he had forgotten, even. maybe he had gotten bored of the toy and would just stand you up. that's what yeonjun would do if you ever gave him a chance. if the thread of unfulfilled yearning didn't tie him to you. or maybe it was that beomgyu hadn't really tried out the toy yet. barely even unwrapped it.

no. you had the gut-wrenching feeling that, for some god-awful reason, beomgyu cared about you. he had said he did, treated you like he did. if only he were more like yeonjun—more of a jerk, less needful and unhappy—maybe he would spare you the pain of sending him away. you weren't even sure you could.

in a desperate attempt to assert control over yourself, you had wedged a chair under the doorknob—a feeble barricade to separate you from your sin.

your door didn't lock from the inside, only from the outside. daddy had designed it that way, like a guardroom only he held the key to. the birdcage. the cushiony, secured birdcage you never should have corrupted.

that's how beomgyu had entered the previous night. the door had been open, a poetic invitation from fate. tonight, however, you closed it sealed and tight—poetically, physically, painfully.

but then he arrived. and he owned the magical key that was himself.

the first knock was faint as if the door could hurt. you remained still, every muscle tensed. a second knock followed, carrying a little more intent, a little more anxiety. panic coursed through your frozen veins. you wanted to hide in soobin's hoodie like a scared tortoise and never come out.

you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that if you pressed your eyelids hard enough, you wouldn't want beomgyu so desperately. a hopeless wish to never had felt how your lips blazed against his, to erase him from your life entirely.

the doorknob rattled, the bolt clanking with an excruciating metallic sound and the safeguarding chair being the only thing keeping the door shut.

"please, leave," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. and maybe he heard. maybe a divine intervention carried your plea. he stopped.

silence stretched for agonizing minutes. your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out all other sounds. done. it wasn't that difficult. five minutes of agonising anxiety in exchange for a life of virtue. or so you thought.

you didn't even have time to cry his absence when his voice, haunting and mournful, pierced the quiet.

"remember, most gracious virgin mary," he began. he was praying. "that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercession, was left unaided."

you perched on the bed's edge, hypnotized. he was asking for asylum in your prison cell. for you to let him lock himself with you in your birdcage. like the previous night, and for all nights to come.

he went on. "inspired by this confidence, i fly unto you, virgin of virgins, my mother. to you do i come, before you i stand, sinful and sorrowful." he said.

with each word, you took a frightful step toward the door. he was loud enough for everyone on the floor to hear him. but what was the harm, right? just the prodigal son praying to the virgin.

"mother of the word incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy, hear and answer me." he said. "amen."

your body trembled. every fiber of your being wanted to resist, but you had to let him in; you were to be full of grace—the mother of mothers, praying for the sinners at the hour of death. your hand moved to the chair, quietly setting it aside. you opened the door, opened the gates of the promised land.

beomgyu sunk there, small, slumped against the door. he startled by its sudden opening. his eyes, rich brown like fertile earth, looked up at you—pleading and desperate. his youthful cheeks, soft like a girl's, and his blessed lips had shown you more love in one night than anyone ever had. you never saw the trident, the wicked grin, the feathered black wings of satan.

he turned and knelt, clumsily, like a mistreated convict begging for food, clutching the rosary beads you had given him in one shivering hand. "i thought—" he stammered out. "i thought you didn't want me anymore."

with a pained expression etched on your face, you motioned for him to be silent. beomgyu could see the lamentable dye that stained your features, but he couldn't decipher if you were inviting him in or pushing him away. a part of him didn't want to find out.

when he began to crawl towards you, you recoiled as if he was a disease. and that's how he felt at his core –like a pest that you couldn't get rid of. your heart ached at the thought. just last night, he held you close and whispered honey into your ears. but now you blamed him for your own sins and treated him like the devil.

you extended your hand and helped him up. in a subtle motion you closed the door behind him, trying not to make any noise. relief flooded his features as he leaned closer to your ear. "do you want me to leave?"

you kissed his cheek softly, like only you knew how, the touch of a feather. he shivered. "stay," you breathed against his skin.

you had fallen again. he had prayed himself into heaven.

the first step he took inside was bashful, but you should have guessed from the red-hot gleam in his pupils that a hurricane-stricken soul kiss was coming. no build-up, no easing you into it. just crimson cannibalism.

he took two heavy breaths. one. i missed her. two. i want her. and the third one he took against your skin after lunging at your mouth, breathing in the soaps and the shampoos and all your foolish efforts to plasticize yourself against him.

he pushed you against the wall with a force that made a loud thud, but he didn't care about the noise. he needed to close every gap, to melt your body into his. "i missed you so much," he gasped between kisses, his voice laced with desperation. "i've been thinking about you all day, about what i wanted to do to you... i couldn't take it anymore."

he devoured your lips, his hands roaming over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. "you're so good for me," he murmured against your skin, his words muffled by the heat of his breath. "so fucking good around me."

beomgyu's hands were like molten lava, burning trails on your skin as he pulled you closer, and you wanted nothing more than to let him do. to have him burn you down to cinders, to give your neck to him as an offering and let him blood-suck you dry.

but you remembered. desire is sin, and sin is death. it echoed annoyingly this time. like a nagging school teacher, an irksome jiminy cricket that spoke in your own voice.

you tried to push him away, gasping for air like a diver drowning under the weight of the ocean. "wait," you panted desperately, trying to catch your breath. "beomgyu, please– wait." you said. you poured a bucket of iced water over the volcano.

the lava solidified under the ice. "why? what is it?" his eyes grew wide, concerned.

"i don't want to feel like a whore again." your eyes dropped, avoiding his gaze. "like i'm– cattle.”

lava rock turned pathetically mushy. "did i... make you feel that way?"

you shook your head quickly, feeling guilty for even thinking it. "no, no. you were so good to me." you reassured, hands gripping onto his shirt. "but we– we barely know each other. why would you want me other than..."

"just for sex?” he finished your sentence with a battered expression. “is that what you think?” 

"what else, then?"

"no." he shook his head anxiously. "no, no. absolutely not. you're... you're like me. you understand. you get it. you feel good– in my soul. this is corny, i'm not good at– i... i just... this is the only way i know how to show it."

cute. you gently ran your fingers through his dark, tousled hair. he was fawn like everything nurturing, he was hazel all over. lush like freshly brewed coffee, mellow like a shot of baleys.

you let your hand trace from his hair to his chin, holding him closer. your noses met first, plumy. then the lips, just barely. they made a slight, dainty wet sound when they parted. "all the decisions i keep making because of you are so stupid. it’s embarrassing." you said. "i'm never like this."

"i'm..." the lava rock was now cotton, it was watercolour, it was baby powder. "sorry."

"where did you learn that prayer?" you asked, playing with his hair. he held you by your arms, trying his best to pretend that your lips didn't exist.

"i've been hanging around church," he confessed in a raspy whisper. "i never go inside, thoug. that would feel intrusive, i guess. i just hang around and listen to the services from the outside. i try to memorise the useful prayers," he said, "only that one stuck."

you raised an eyebrow, "the useful ones?"

"the ones that will get me what i want. isn’t that how praying works? and besides," he said with a sugary grin, holding the rosary beads up. he was sweet, so endearingly earnest. "you gave me this. i thought i should learn how to pray it properly."

"you weren't saying it correctly, though." you corrected him gently. "the first bead is supposed to be 'our father,' you were saying a memorare."

"who cares?" he shrugged, a teasing glint shining through. "it worked for me. it got me in here."

with a trembling hand, you reached out and grabbed the rosary hanging around his neck. your fingers closed around the cold metal, pulling it towards you. "take it off."

he clutched it tighter, his hand over yours, as if afraid to let go of it. "why?" 

"i don't like you with it," you said. "i like you out of god. you're the only thing i have that's not corrupted by it."

"but i'm trying to be a little better for you. purer, or whatever the hell you call it. so that you'll feel less guilty when we're together." he said. then his brows furrowed with ache. "you regret me, don't you? that's why you weren't letting me in." 

"it really hurt when you left," you admitted quietly. "all night long, i felt filthy and repulsive. like some..." you hesitated, embarrassed at your own words. "some wild animal in heat. but it goes away when you're here. it... it’s still there. but i forget about it. just a little."

a defiant look crossed his face. "then i'll never leave again."

"but you have to," you countered, letting go of his arms and turning way from him to walk toward the window. "or daddy will find out."

you heard beomgyu's footsteps approaching after you slowly, and you knew he was standing behind you now.

in haze and silk his hand found yours, which had been limp at your side. "but you like being close to me," he said softly, his arm wrapping around your waist, pressing your body against his. "and i like being close to you," he added, his nose tracing patterns along your neck. "you're warm."

"aren't you concerned at all? how can you not care about anything else?" you asked.

"because i'm crazy about you, you're my angel." he muttered as if it was obvious, his lips grazing your skin as he spoke. he buried his face deeper into your neck, breathing in your scent. "you smell so good."

"i just showered," you whispered, feeling yourself shivering under his touch. "it’s all i’ve done today, try to wash up."

"see?" he purred against your neck, with an amused smile that bordered on wicked. "you're a clean little angel. you have nothing to be ashamed of." he held you tight, arms forming a velvety belt around your waist. "i'm gonna be good for you tonight, take things slow. does that sound good?"

your nodded slightly, turning around to give him a soft kiss. though eager, there was uneasiness in your gaze, a loving intensity so hopeless it hurt.

he could take the hurt away, he was convinced. leave only the longing, the summery warmth and the tingling of the flesh. cupping your face with both hands he took your soft kiss and inflamed it into a fleshy bite, a mouthful of you. mine, mine, mine.

the room sweltered, wrapping you in a cloying embrace that thickened with the friction of the lips. with a deft movement he pulled away for a fleeting second, shrugging off his overshirt, the fabric fluttering to the ground like a lifeless body.

he saw your eyes widen, your muscles tense. the breath catching in your chest at the lost promise to take things slow. he lifted his palms like having been caught in the middle of a crime. "it’s– it’s hot in here," he murmured, trying to hush you. "just that."

you nodded. "yeah, yeah." you breathed out. stupid, wimpy, childish, prude, you thought to yourself. "i…" you started to unzip the hoodie, stripping away from your protective armor. "i probably don't look as good as yesterday," you said. "i'm sorry."

beomgyu exhaled a breathy chuckle, a laden smile tinged with affection. "what are you talking about?" he asked, shaking his head. "i look fucking gross in soobin’s old, borrowed clothes. these fit me like an elephant's skin, and you – you're… shit, you're so pretty – and you still apologize?"

he grasped your hand, tugged you towards him. he cherished and adored, and coated with his kisses and artisan lips the face of his angel. his little good girl who would sigh hummingbird whimpers against his lips as a warming, wordless praise.

he liked how you explored on him, too. how you seemed to prefer his upper lip and worked on it daintily, how you would pout when he pulled away, something he did just to indulge himself in the pleasure of staring at your lips get swollen and intumesced. how your eyes saddened, too, puppy-round and disquieted, silently asking if you had done something wrong.

gentle lips turned voracious, he couldn't help it. you were so tasty, so foamed textured, a favourite food.

letting his arm cradle you under your ass, he picked you up, weightless plush bear, your legs falling at both sides of his torso. you escaped a half-chuckled hum against his lips, a teenaged sound of cheeriness.

securely held like that, he walked you to the bed, where he let you fall softly, himself dropping after you. the weight of his body pressed you down against the plush duvet, but the suffocation felt good, the drowning in his oaky scent with no escape.

he focused on the fragility of your neck, silken, lovely swan’s arch. he pressed his unworthy mouth against it, nibbled at it, let his teeth sink in the skin, pushing the feeble line of pain and pleasure.

you shifted, rolling over together in a smooth, almost effortless motion. now, your were resting against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. you could hear his heartbeat, steady and deep.

he watched you hovering above him. your hair fell around your face, a dark frame for your flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. fucking beautiful. he lifted his head slightly and gave your a quick, animalistic kiss, almost like a snake bite.

his teeth caught your lower lip, holding it for a heartbeat longer, before letting it slip free. your back spasmed, punctuated by an acute shiver.

you let out a low, throaty whimper that resonated against his mouth. your lips pressed back against his with increased urgency, your fingers digging into his hair as you deepened the kiss.

"needy baby," he murmured softly, his voice a husky breath against your lips. "you still want me to take things slow?"

your hips began to move on their own, rubbing against him, driven by an instinctive rhythm. his nails bit into the tender flesh of your thighs as though trying to rip off the peel of a tangerine, to skin you out and envelop you himself instead.

but you both moved together, and his shirt lifted slightly, revealing a dark bruise on his stomach. at first, it was just a shadow, barely noticeable in the dim light. but as your movements shifted and the fabric of his shirt rose higher, the bruise came into full view.

your breath caught in your throat—a deep, ugly purplish hue marring his skin. the color at the center of the bruise was nearly black, a grisly shade that made the surrounding skin look almost rotten. the edges of the bruise were tinged with a sickly yellow-green, the mark of an injury struggling to heal.

"beomgyu..." you paused, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of the bruise, feeling the heat radiating from the inflamed skin. it was tender to the touch, and you could almost feel the pain he must have endured when he received it. "how did this happen?" you whispered, your voice a mix of worry and disbelief.

his eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. he seemed reluctant to answer, but the concern in your gaze softened his resolve.

"it’s nothing," he murmured, trying to dismiss it, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.

"nothing?" you echoed, your fingers still gently exploring the bruise. he winced at the touch. "your dad hurt you before you came here, didn't he? that's why you left home."

his hands moved to cover yours, stopping your gentle probing. "it’s just... it’s not as bad as it looks."

"does it still hurt?" you asked, searching for his eyes, but he was steadfastly avoiding your gaze.

"no," he said through gritted teeth. "stop looking at it." he pulled down his shirt to cover the bruise with a violent tug.

you tilted your head, scrutinizing his lie and his sudden flare of irritability. it was uncharacteristic, a side of him you had heard of but never had seen yourself.

slowly, you reached out and pressed your fingers against the fabric of his shirt, right over the hidden bruise. your touch went from gentle to stinging as you pushed down, observing his reaction.

he bit his lip, a futile attempt to conceal his pain with a stubbornness bordering on childlike. when it really began to hurt him he finally winced, a sharp breath escaping him. "well, of course it fucking hurts if you press it," he snapped.

"sorry," you whispered softly.

you stayed in silence for a few seconds. you didn't know what to do, what to say, how to tell him that he shouldn't be embarrassed that his father was a sadistic brute. so in a movement as smooth as melting butter, you eased yourself onto his lap, your limbs wrapping around him with the languid grace of entwining vines.

you said nothing at first, just peppered his face with kisses, each one a delicate brush of your lips, grazing the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth, and that upper lip you adored so much.

"what was that for?" he asked, still trying to perform crankiness with a tiny pout, but with a flustered red coloring his cheeks.

he yielded, his hands finding a natural place on your hips. with a tender smile, you murmured, “you've been going on and on about taking care of me, but look at you. you need care, too.”

“no, i don’t,” he retorted, his tone edging on petulant. “i can handle myself and take care of you while at it.”

“sure,” you reassured him with a soft giggle, your breath warm against his lips. “but let me take care of you for once.”

the kiss you gave him was a smiled out version of the wettened bites he liked to take out of your lips. a somehow tender ferocity, adoring. a violent hunger, soft like rose petals.

he liked lingering touches, gentle and exploratory. those that made him quivery and trembling. the kind that traced but not prodded, only brushed. and so you gave him that.

he liked wet kisses, deep and honeyed. kisses that felt like sinking your teeth into a ripe peach and letting its amber juice drip down your chin. and so you gave him that.

"i... still remember how good you made me feel yesterday." you whispered against his lips. he watched you in silence, pupils dilating at how bashful you were, how much adoration your eyes carried for his foul self. "i really tried to, but i couldn't stop thinking about it all day. about... you. i... i wouldn’t even know how to–" you stopped, words piling up in your throat. "how to give back."

your voice washed over him like holy water. a shiver run through him, the stirring whip of a stingray, from the nape of his neck down to his hardening dick. his eyes lit up with something animalistic, dark, even. there was a subtle change in the tilt of his head, an eager forward lean.

his hands were two starved beasts, roaming freely and gripping your body. you guided his touch, enjoying the tension changes in his muscles when he grasped the parts he liked best.

his fingers tightened firmly on your thigh, a strong ache of lust pulsing through his veiny forearms. he hesitated, eager for permission before moving his hands up to your ass. when you allowed it with a mild nod, his grip clenched tightly like iron.

he let his hands trail up, crawling under the shorts, beneath the underwear. the skin was tender, sweet marshmallow flesh. he kissed you violently, just for the sake of groaning into your mouth, to tell you how bad he liked you without the need for words.

pulling you closer, he grabbed firmly, causing your straddling legs to spread wider against him. then you felt it. him growing harder against you, his bulge pressing insistently between your legs, "b-beomgyu you're,"

"of course i am," he growled through gritted teeth, "shit– how could i not be?" his greedy lips traveled down from your neck, your throat, tour clavicles, leaving a trail of spit on your skin, icy against the air. 

"you were like this yesterday, too." you pressed your fingers against his tense jawline, feeling the strain in his muscles. “let me help you out, please, teach me how."

he hesitated. his baby princess was too pure to stain herself with his dirty self. he was just a ravenous dog, hungry, flushed and beastly turned on, but you were his little dove, his angel, you–

you took your shy hand down to his crotch.

you did so while looking him in the eye, firm but awfully nervous. trembling, experimental. you brushed against the throbbing bulge with your palm.

he drew his head back. holy mary mother of god, pray for us sinners. chewed on his lip. now and at the hour of our death. he was all in.

he put his hand over yours with the intention of teaching you, like you had asked for, but you stopped him. with a timid voice and a slight stutter, you requested, "m-mouth."

a hitched breath. then a heavy one. "you shouldn’t," he whispered huskily, “with those pretty angel lips…” 

you stirred on his lap, making him shudder with the slight brush of your covered pussy against his desperately hard self. "i have this friend from school," you began. "he’s not all that poetic, but today he said something… " you said, voice whispery. "said that having a girl on her knees for him made him feel like a king. i want to make you feel like that, too.” 

beomgyu's silence was charged, his gazy stormy. the heavenly image flashed before his eyes. his baby angel down on her knees for him. the blushing tint on her sinless cheeks. virginal hibiscus lips wrapped around his cock. all sweet, all fucking gorgeous.

he then said, "open your mouth for me,”

you did as he commanded. you parted your lips for a shy communion, reception of the body of christ. your tongue rested plump and glistening on your lower lip. pretty, pretty, pretty.

with one hand he held your chin. the other one he raised with his index and middle fingers extended, thumb holding the ring and little fingers down. he slid them inside your mouth, their sinewy length slipping past your lips, taste of salt, skin and wine.

he grunted when your plump lips closed around his fingers. gulped down his libido, his adam’s apple prominently bobbing up and down. soon enough —he told himself— be gentle.

guiding your head with a steady rhythm, he began to move his fingers in and out, the wetness of your tongue sloppy against them. "no teeth," he commanded. 

he entered a third finger in, stuffing your cheeks. the thrust got more forceful, his hand reaching deeper. you began to salivate, making a mess on his wet skin, unable to swallow.

you gagged when he pushed against your throat. then looked up at him, a glint of fear in your eyes.

“that choking feeling. it's gonna be like that.” he said in a sweet tone. “you think you can take it?”

you nodded eagerly, your voice coming out muffled in a throaty moan against his hand. it was a new feeling, but so sinfully delicious. a deep hot sweetness that got you helplessly soaked with its glowing tingle.

"use your tongue," he growled, his voice thick. you obeyed, letting it swirl around his skin. “such a good girl.” he said. your body quivered all over.

when he finally withdrew his hand, a glistening saliva trail draped down, connecting his fingers to your tongue. lewdy spiderweb of silver. without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to each gleaming digit.

then, as light as a floating bubble, you slid off the bed and guided him to sit at the edge. but instead of sitting, he stood up, looming over you. he was so tall, and for the first time, his height didn't feel protective but imposing, towering over you like a temple.

you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, silently for a kiss. he granted it to you. he could have been a giant, a monster, beastly like a wild bear, and he still would have brushed your hair behind your ear with all the softness in the world and leaned down to kiss you.

kneeling before him made you feel small, exposed, shrinking under his devouring gaze. but there was something thrilling in being so vulnerable to him.

your hands were shaking as you reached for the waistband of his pants. a ritualistic undressing of him, an unveiling of sacred flesh that you were terrified to ruin by being clumsy and uncoordinated.

his hand wrapped around your wrist. "are you sure about this?" he asked for the last time with a tender stroke at your head.

"yes," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the thunderous beating of your heart. there was a shyness that coiled tightly around your spine, eating you alive, but there was also eagerness—the want to make him feel good.

you pulled down his pants, the big bulge in his underwear imposing, daunting. you pressed your lips tentatively against the taut fabric, the only thing you were certain you would do well, a slight whisper of a kiss that left behind a cold, wet spots.

the dampness seeped through the cotton, a chaste baptism of his aching cock. "pretty," he murmured above you, hand tracing your cheek.

a little more bolstered by his praise, your hands reached out and hooked into the elastic band, pulling it down with reverence. his cock was thick and pulsing, begging for your touch. rosy, gold-dusted. you gulped. this was him, purely in the flesh.

you leaned in, trailing soft kisses along its length and leaving small burning marks on his skin. his hand gripped your hair tight as he groaned. "you're gonna feel so good, shit."

with a hesitant exhale, you parted your lips, allowing the tip of his cock to brush against them. he tasted of musk and urgency. you struggled, trying to fit him all the way into your mouth. he was so big, so overwhelming for virgin stupid you. 

as soon as he felt your lips around him he winced and his hand gripped your hair, tugging sharply and sending a jolt of electric sensation down your spine. you felt a protectiveness in his touch, there was no force, only unreleased tension.

"you're so fucking beautiful like that,” beomgyu rasped, his voice thick. you leaked heplessly at his words. "be careful, alright, angel? stop whenever you need to." he said.

you pulled out for a second, just to answer to him. your lips closing at his tip, pouty. spit glistened all over his lenght like the glinting mix of melted ice and saliva on fruit flavored ice-cream. "don't hold back." you simply said.

beomgyu let out a grumbled groan as he watched take him in your mouth again, the plush walls of your cheeks hugging so beautifully around his cock.

slow and timid, you began the back and forth motion. the flow you managed was awkward at first, clumsy and arrhythmic. but with just a little silent steadying of his hand in your hair, you found the right pace.

“j-just like that, shit,” beomgyu groaned, his voice a low thrum that resonated through your ribcage.

the wetter you got, the more shame swirled like eddies in the depths. you knew she was waiting for you with her sinister glare, ready to and ambush and churn at your insides when beomgyu was gone.

but shame was titillating when your lower belly burned and your needy clit throbbed helplessly. shame leaked out in the form of arousal, pouring syroupy glitter. 

whenever you dared look up at him, you'd see the godlike vision of a strained, sweating beomgyu. his head was drawn back in pleasure and his adam’s apple bobbing up and down, escaping a profane mess of heavy breaths and lewd sounds.

his voice was so beautiful, too, you kept thinking. low and mellow, incese and wood. he sounded so good, with his raspy “ahs,” and roaring moans. you did everything in your power to keep him panting like that.

with every flick of your tongue and suckle of your lips, you could feel him twitch and tense. as you took him further into your mouth, his thick and veiny shaft hit the back of your throat. 

a surprining rush of excitement surged through you when i you gagged, tightening your core. that lewd retched sound of the choking turned into a cried out moan of pleasure.

you salivated against his cock, the mixture of his salty precum, your spit, and the tears that came out of your eyes from the asphyxiation making a mess that kept dripping down your chin. 

you took him deeper, revelling in your own gagged-out sputters. "y-you're taking me in so good," he praised between clenched teeth. “my baby, you sound so fucking perfect choking on me.” 

but then you noticed. the way he remained still, fighting every instinct to move. the exaggerated tension in his body from doing so. he was holding back. lacerating self-control.

you pulled out, finding no resistence from him. he immediately leaned down, loving concern in his eyes, but his breathing still heavy and messy, and asked "are you alright?" he asked, gently gripping your jaw.

and though he was trying just so hard to focus on your well-being, he mouthed out a strained “shit, baby angel...” in pure awe upon seeing you all covered in the mouth-watering mixture of glinting fluids.

"b-beomgyu," you gulped, voice broken. "don´t hold back. i... like the choking."

he bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood. "i don’t wanna hurt you," he said. a gentlemanly formality.

"i know.” you smiled faintly. “but i like the pain, i promise."

eyes round and doe-like, lips soaked in delightful filth, swollen and gleaming. a wet dream of a girl, you were. sweet dainty angel who just kept saying gut-wrenchingly hot words.

he traced one finger along your jawline, just one, all feathery. "you have no idea how perfect you are." he whispered. but his caress turned a firm grip on your jaw. big strong hand, poking fingers. he said, "you want it rough? then i’m gonna fuck your cute little mouth raw.”

he tightened his hadn't around your hair in a way that immediately let you know he wasn't grabbing you for guidance, no massages, no caresses. he wasn't playing anymore.

the first thrust back in was paced, but painfully deep. you let out a delighted whine around him, having craved the sensation of being filled by him again. then he lived up to his promise.

he pumped his cock into your mouth, thrusts steady and violent. that you liked the pain he took it religiously, believed it in heart and soul. and you revelled on it. sacrificial angel, dirty slut with needs.

but it was all you wanted from him, really. to pound his love into you, ruthlessly. to wreck you with his own hands and pick up the pieces after, kissing the scars. to carve in your skin a yearning so big and monstrous it could only be spiritualised in pain, only could be satisfied in flesh and blood.

his grip in your hair tightened into a makeshift ponytail as he urged you deeper, pushing you to the brink of what you could withstand. your eyes were so glassy you almost couldn’t see, holy lack of air that got your cunt trembling with want. 

a violent dance of pushing and pulling, giving and taking. with each thrust, you were the victim of his self-control slipping like sand through desperate fingers. his words became abstract, senseless, angel, and baby, and beautiful melted into one until all he could do was cry out.

never in a million years would you have been able to rationalise how you could've have gotten such harrowing pleasure, such a tear-jerking sense of utter love, from such a forceful act. but you felt it, everywhere in your body. in your whitening knuckles, in your sore scalp, in the ruthless thrusts that got you trembling, leaking, terminally ill in lust.

beomgyu got beautifully lightheaded. his every molecule trembled, his every nerve ending felt numb and petty compared the scorching beautiful fire there where your mouth brazed his cock, soon to explode.

"s-so fucking close." his body trembled with the strain, severing the bond of flesh and hunger. "h-hand– fuck, y-your hand." he struggled out.

he desperately fumbled for your hand, and when he found it, he guided it to the stem of his length, showing you how to stroke him, pushing him over his peak. you knew, you felt him tense up, get breathier, more desperate.

but he pulled out of your mouth. he grabbed onto your hair and pulled your head back roughly. neck strained, you let out a confused whimper. good little puppy.

that did it for him. he gave you one last awestruck look, and jerked himself off with your hand getting himself to cum all over your face with a shaky groan. 

warm liquid dripped down from his still-throbbing cock, landing on your quivering lips and streaming down to your cheeks.

he urged you to keep stroking him through his most sensitive, his whole body twitching and contracting under your touch. "ah, f-fuck. keep going like that, just a little more," he said.

he pushed through, your hand only a tool confined between his own hand and his cock. you were barely a puppet here, the symbolic means of lewdness, a kink.

you got to watch him attentively. his gorgeous hair shaking with him, his teeth almost peeling the skin on his bottom lip, the strained muscles of his neck. lusty frown, wax light skin, pearly sweat. your beautiful boy.

the oversensitivity caused his body to helplessly quiver and spasm all over, increasingly until it became too much and he doubled, finally letting go, his body folding in two. he let himself fall to his knees.

his eyes were glassy and rimmed with redness, his breath gradually steadying. he looked at you and whispered "fuck, look at that...", his eyebrows furrowed, as he reached up to wipe some of the cum off your cheek with his thumb.

the world went silent. tinnitus in your ears. breathe in. breathe out. breath not. shame arrived and choked you.

your bottom lip quivered. a round tear formed at the corner of your eye. shame gnawed at you with her ghostly voice of ice. slut, nympho, mary magdalene, whore.

beomgyu immediately helped you up, perching on the bed and sitting you on his lap. "what is it, baby?" he muttered against the shell of your ear, cradling you. "are you feeling guilty?" he asked.

your words tumbled out between sobs, raw and revealing. "it's the filthiest thing i've ever done." your gaze refused to meet his. "but i liked it so much, i'm so wet."

he reached out to cup your cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb. "it's okay, you were such a perfect fucking girl, my baby. you did nothing wrong." he reassured you in a soothing tone. "let's get you cleaned up, alright?" 

you nodded softly. you still avoided his gaze, but your shame felt finite. he was there. you would be fine. 

he got up to get dressed, but he quickly returned to your side, not wanting to leave you alone even for a second. so invested in the caretaker roll he was, he insisted on carrying you to the bathroom himself.

“what are you doing? i’m fine.” you chuckled softly when he tried to pick you up, wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes, feeling their warmth against your fingertips. 

"i wanted to carry you," he replied with a pout.

he was determined, but you managed to convince him that it was better if you led the way. you were good at roaming around the house in the dark, a silent nightjar that could only get a semblance of freedom when everyone else was asleep. 

and so you exited your room in hushed silence, tiptoeing through the gloom, beomgyu’s hand securely wrapped in yours.

the coming light from your bedroom door cast eerie elongated shadows on the walls of the corridor. hazy and enthralled as you were with one another, you had forgotten to close the door, only leaving it ajar. big mistake. 

the bathroom was virginal with the scent of soap and piety—the place where absolution and sin mingled in the steam that rised from the heart of the house of god. 

beomgyu's eyes narrowed at the sight of the framed stamp of a female saint, perched on the sink. with a creeped out grimace, he plucked it from its spot and flipped it over, as if silencing an unwanted voice. the house was full of hidden eyes and he couldn't stand the feeling of constant surveillance.

you both settled onto the narrow edge of the porcelain tub, the coolness of the ceramic sending shivers down your back when it touched the fevered bare flesh of the back of your thighs. 

beomgyu fumbled for a towel, and with reverent hands, he turned on the faucet and laid it under the warm water flow until it soaked.

the water was a baptismal font, powerful enough to wash away almost any sin. but beomgyu wasn’t one to care about the religious symbolism. he just wanted to take care of you, gently wiping your face with each stroke, cleansing away the remnants of his cum.

"beomgyu," you whispered. the towel was warm against your face. it felt nice, hushed. 

“yeah?” he murmured, his voice barely audible as he focused on his task.

"…was i any good?" you tentatively asked, nervously looking down at your fingers.

with a mellow smile, he leaned in to give you a soft kiss before answering, "my baby angel. you did so well… so, so well" he said. "i’m sorry if i was too rough."

you shook your head slightly, unable to hide the smile that formed on your lips at his concern. "it's okay," you told him, your mouth curving into a bashful v shape.

as he pressed the towel against your neck, it felt like a wrung-out sponge. a few droplets of water managed to make their way into your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine. the dampness slowly crept through the fabric of your pajama shirt, the chilly embrace from a ghost hand.

"should we take this off?" he asked, not a trace of suggestion in his eyes, only care. “so you can wash well.” he added.

you hugged yourself self-consciously. "no... i-" you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. “no.”

his gaze melted into yours, as if trying to ease your discomfort. "you shouldn't be uncomfortable with me," he insisted. "every little thing you do is pretty to me. you know that, right?"

he gave you a kiss that was simple and easy. not the blooming, lush cascades of perfumed lust you were used to, but steady and reassuring like soft moss. a tender formality of intimacy. a kind kiss, a kiss to trust him.

you slowly released your arms from their protective embrace, letting them hang limply at your sides, surrendering control to him.

"stand up for me," he demanded. and as you obeyed, he crouched down, his knees meeting the cold, unforgiving tiles. he reached out with steady hands to support you. "let me see just how soaked you are." 

a crimson blush spread across your cheeks. your fingers shyly reached out for the the elastic of your shorts, beomgyu’s hands intercepting them to gently pull down together.

your cotton shorts gone, all that was left to cover your pussy was an embarrassingly dampened pair of pinkish panties. the type that puritanical moms buy for their daughters at haberdashery stores - cheap, thin lace trimming the edges and a small embroidered rose at the center. 

the fabric felt cold against your exposed skin as the air grazed the darkened wet stain. embarrassing.but beomgyu's breath nearly caught in his throat as he laid eyes on the dainty cloth, delicate like wax flower, all soaked for him. 

"god, this is so fucking pretty," he breathed against your belly, his fingers trailing over the damp patch. he planted a soft kiss against your trembling sex, sending shivers down your spine. a twitchy chill ran through you.

he reached for the hem of it, eager to expose you further, but you stopped him. “not yet,” you breathed out. “please.”

his eyes widened like a puppy's and he looked up at you pleadingly. "to clean you up?" he asked.

but you shook your head. he stood up again, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you close. "i won't look," he promised. "won't see a thing. just like yesterday." he said.

“fine.” you said, giving in to his gentle touch.

he expertly slipped off your underwear with one hand, holding onto you with the other. you knew you were soaked, but hadn't become fully aware of how much until you were exposed to the cold and what had been warm arousal turned iced water.

you were nervous, but his hot breath and balmy kisses on your forehead eased some of your tension.

“now this,” he tugged at your pajama top, his fingers like curious spiders crawling over the soft fabric.

you flinched, jabbed his hand away. beomgyu's eyes showed worry and a hint of hurt from your lack of trust in him. still, he had a plan.

no words were exchanged; he guided you to step into the bathtub with him, closing any existing distance. firm yet gentle, he pressed you against the wall, the cool tiles imprinting their pattern on the naked skin of your ass.

as he twisted the handle, a sudden rush of water burst from the showerhead like a geyser. "we wash together, alright?"

the droplets rained down on you, pelting against your bodies. he threw his head back with a soft, painfully cute chuckle, watching the water fall like it was the first winter snow. 

his drenched clothes clunged to his body, but he payed no mind. he kept smiling like a little kid, kissing you with satisfied nibbles and smooches, cheerful like you had never seen him.

but the fun ended quickly. a shadow crossed his expression, filling you with immediate concern. he drew in a deep, somber breath, fingers hesitating at the hem of his shirt. with a tug, he pulled it over his head, baring his skin before letting it fall. you instinctively brought a hand to your mouth, suppressing a horrified gasp.

swollen bruises, bloated and purplish-black, oozed cruelty as they sprawled across his abdomen, his ribcage, his chest. once elegant and pretty collarbones hid marred under stains like dark, spreading ink blots.

his father had completely shattered him and then discarded his body like rancid fruit left to rot in the sun.

he pressed his lips together, avoiding your eyes. there was embarrassment all over his face, hidden under a bitter defiance. "don't look at me like that," he muttered.

"like what?" you asked, not sure how to respond.

"like you feel sorry for me," he said, clenching his teeth. "i'd rather you were just grossed out."

"i'm not pitying you, i..." your hand reached out, gently lifting his chin to meet your gaze. he resisted a bit, looking sullen. "this shouldn't have happened to you, this–" you began to say softly, brushing your fingertips over the bruised skin with a light touch. "you can't be ashamed of this. you have to be mad. outraged. you– promise me you won't go back to him."

"i've got nowhere else to go," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible.

and you didn't know what to say, either. stay here was a stupid answer, unrealistic. you have me was even more stupid, as you didn't even have yourself. your existence together hanged on a fine thread. there was no better option, only prison cells and bloodthirsty gods.

"i–" you began to say, trying to arrange some, any, words in your head, but he stopped you.

"i don't want to think about it now, please," he said. "i'm happy when i'm with you because i forget about everything else. i like it that way."

he meant every word. he wasn't one to dwell on the future, he couldn't stand to throw away the counted minutes he had with you worrying. unlike soobin, he took pride in that.

he pressed a soothing kiss to your temple. "i'm going to clean you up now, okay?" he said softly. "and you'll go to bed feeling light and clean, no shame and burning in the flames of hell bullshit. you're gonna sleep so well and so peacefully without any of the wicked nonsense they've tried to brainwash you with."

a gentle smile from him, a thanking peck from you. the water cascaded on.

however, when beomgyu's hands reached for the top button of your pajama shirt, you couldn't help but flinch. a first fleeting thought told you it was uncalled for, but then it settled on you that letting him see your body was a stupidly obvious next step.

he had already shown you the body he was ashamed of, and now he was asking you to share in that vulnerability. "please," he said. "i showed you how shitty i look. i… really wanna see you.”

it was the desperation in his frown and the ominous presence of his bruises. with shaking hands, you undid the next button on your own.

the rest of the buttons you undid in gradual little steps, not daring to look him in the eye. he limited himself to watch with narrowed eyes and his heart in clenched in his fist.

the shirt fluttered opened, a central strip of your body in full view. collarbone, linea alba, belly button –all delicate and liturgical in the semi-darkness. but he didn't glance any lower. he promised he wouldn't.

he brought his hand to your waist, letting his thumb caress your ribcage. as he did, he drew the shirt away from your tit, displaying it for him. he shook his head, exhaled, "you're so fucking adorable."

with a delicate movement he gently flicked the other side of the shirt, your chest all to him. peaches and cream, lovely cottony candy. sweet, sweet, so sweet.

there was something so disarming about seeing you naked, too. a vulnerability in your eyes he couldn't resist.

your hands, trembling emissaries of modesty, moved instinctively to shield your breasts from his view. but beomgyu's touch halted their ascent; his fingers wrapped around your wrists, "don't hide from me," he whispered.

all he did next was to reverently lower himself and leave a kiss on the tender skin. the water was falling, and the effect he loved so much, that of his spit against your smooth waxen skin, was lost in the shower rain.

he left it there, diplomatically. he would come back tomorrow night. he would be back to touch you with all the calm of the universe, to experiment on your skin and discover the cause and effect of all the things he could dream of doing to you.

the next kiss returned to your lips. a voracious mouth-feeding on your flesh. sharp jaws strained and tensed for the pleasure of the plump hedonistic lips.

then came the washing, the cleansing, the radical eradication of your shame. he hugged your waist tight and loving, as if to save his own life, and took the almond soap without letting go of you for a moment.

it was the third time in that same day that the viscous liquid touched your skin. but this time it came from his hands, not yours. this time it was lukewarm, not icy and lonesome.

he scrubbed every corner of your body, and in every single place that was left cleansed he planted a chaste kiss. the rubbing of his hand against your groin might have been lascivious, it might have made angels and saints look away in shame and offense. but it felt not lewd, but kind. fatherly.

last came the rinsing of the soap, a removal of every last trace of foreign liquids –be it an industrial hygiene product, be it the worldly product of the body.– off came the guilt, too. the repentance and the shame, the homicidal shame.

under the water your soul was feathers, under the water the angel, the dove, the butterfly was light and untied.

once clean he hugged you in a towel like a baby, arms around your body, and caressed the damp hair that clung to your face. a light kiss on your hairline, a light kiss on your brow, a light kiss on your lashes.

"beomgyu," you talked under your breath, "i don't want you to leave."

a light kiss to your temple. “i really don’t wanna leave, either.” he said in helpless sincerity. then his eyes glinted playful. “but soobin misses me if i don't cuddle him to sleep. he’d get jealous." he smiled.

"he gets to sleep with you every night," you sulked in a pout that curled up at the corners of your mouth, "it’s not fair."

beomgyu chuckled against your skin, "i can wait for you to fall asleep, then i’ll go."

and the plan was perfect, and the world felt pink and glittery and like it existed for you and him and no one else. it wasn't your fault when you didn't notice. you were hazy fools in love, your minds too misty and cosy.

when he laid you on the bed in plumes and cottons and the sheets felt like clouds against your clean skin, neither him nor you noticed.

when you got in bed, him lying next to you and being physically unable to stop showering you with little kisses, neither him nor you noticed.

when he caressed your hair, your cheeks and the outline of your arm as he felt your breathing relax into deep sleep, your little heartbeat easing finally after a lifetime of guilt and agony, neither him nor you noticed.

not even when beomgyu reluctantly separated from you, planting one last kiss on your sleeping eyelids, "goodbye, my baby angel," and left the room without making a sound, not even then did he notice.

a fatal mistake.

not noticing that the door you had left ajar after leaving to the bathroom was wide open when you got back. that the overshirt beomgyu had tossed to the ground was nowhere to be seen. that someone else had been there.

a phosphorescent chesire grin. a stern boy in a charcoal gray sweater. or work of the holy spirit.

it was a faceless someone. but someone knew.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i took so long to update i am so sorry. ALSO. I INSERTED THE ETHEL CAIN LYRIC it fit so perfectly, i had to. there's a bts borrowed line, too. joon lyrical king. anyway. yeah.

[bbcphile]

CPTSD and Mysterious Lotus Casebook Part II: Di Feisheng, Violence, and Emotional Regulation

In last week’s meta, I wrote about complex CPTSD, its stereotypes, and how DFS and LLH each show different aspects of CPTSD symptoms.

This week’s post focuses on DFS and self regulation, including emotional regulation. As I mentioned before, it’s common for tv shows and films to have characters who have survived child abuse or traumatic combat situations be affected by out of control, violent outbursts. What I find fascinating about DFS, however, is that, while the jianghu and even Li Lianhua initially see him as someone who resorts to violence at the slightest provocation, that’s not at all who he is according to what we see on screen. While he does lash out with violence, he is more in control of his actions, expression of emotions, and violent impulses than just about anyone in the show.

Emotional Regulation

Emotional regulation is a challenge with complex PTSD for a number of reasons, including: 

Traditional flashbacks (re-experiencing the traumatic memories as though it is happening again)

Emotional flashbacks (experiencing all the emotions from the trauma as intensely as if it were happening again, including grief, rage, betrayal, fear, etc.)

Body memories (experiencing the physical sensations of the trauma like it’s happening again)

Hypervigilance (being constantly on the lookout for threats to defend against them and keep yourself safe) and its resultant irritability and overstimulation

Intrusive thoughts (seeing images or thinking thoughts related to the trauma that you can’t block out)

Nightmares (of the trauma), or insomnia from avoiding nightmares and the resulting exhaustion and irritability from sleep deprivation 

As a result, anything that reminds someone of the trauma can be a trigger that could set off any or all of these reactions. That means, for DFS, that being betrayed by someone he trusted, or being poisoned and made powerless, or being attacked by someone with more power than him, or confronting his abuser is never about experiencing just that event in isolation: it almost always brings up the feelings of the earlier, even more traumatic times similar things have happened. Also, it’s not just events or people’s actions that can be triggers: smells, colors, textures, sounds, tastes, shapes, terrain, enclosed spaces, decor style—anything can trigger this sort of re-experiencing. As you might imagine, responding appropriately to people and situations can be difficult when your brain is constantly telling you that you are in danger or actively being harmed!

How do people deal with being bombarded by emotions, memories, and sensations of the worst times of their lives? The version media shows most often is a traditional “fight” response, where people lash out at others, either preemptively to avoid being hurt or in retaliation for a real or perceived hurt, although lots of survivors of CPTSD turn this fight response inwards in what I’ve started calling “lashing in,” where, like Li Lianhua, they direct the anger and hatred that should go toward the perpetrators of abuse toward themselves instead.  (There’s also the “flight” response—avoiding and running away from things that remind you of the trauma or throwing yourself into distractions by being a workaholic—or the “freeze” response of dissociation, or the “fawn” response of trying to appease and placate someone harming you, but more on those another day.)

DFS, Violence, and Emotional Regulation

I want to emphasize that I’m not saying DFS isn’t violent: Di Feisheng does lash out, verbally and physically! (And for a great image set of the number of people he chokes, check out this post by @difeisheng.) What I find fascinating about DFS is the way he is such an interesting twist on the idea of lashing out;  he’s not hurting others during a flashback or nightmare, or harming others as an outlet for his anger, or killing first and asking questions later to stay safe. He’s using violence but in a deliberate, controlled way, and as a last resort. And this is even more impressive given all the potential things that might trigger him.

Leaving Seclusion

His first appearance as an adult in the show’s present highlights this beautifully: his first act when he breaks free from seclusion is to tell Jiao Liqiao and Yao Mo not to kill the people who have intruded on his hideout, which is the reason FDB and LLH live past episode 5. This is wild to me, because it would be easy for someone who has been on the run from the Di Fortress his entire life and clearly fears being recaptured to say they deserve death for trespassing or because they could be Di Fortress spies. Or, since he spent a decade recovering from injuries liable to make him feel helpless, he could have used it as a chance to fight them as a way of proving to himself that he is still strong and capable and unlikely to be recaptured. Instead, he tells JLQ and Xue Gong to stand down and uses his qinggong to leave the scene, not even interrogating them to find out more. So, even though being unexpectedly interrupted while he’s still weaker than he used to be would activate his hypervigilance and increase the likelihood of him lashing out, he doesn’t. Anything he’s feeling stays internal and not on his face, such that he looks and acts unaffected. And since it’s one of his earliest appearances, it’s proof that this pattern is present from the start. It’s not just Li Lianhua’s influence or DFS’ time without memories as a-Fei soothing his bad temper or rage or uncontrolled violence: he was never out of control to begin with.  

Asura Grass

DFS’ restraint comes into play again when he finds out that Li Lianhua blocked his meridians with Asura grass, interfering with his ability to access his qi. I am feral about this moment. DFS has spent his entire life trying to be as strong as possible so he would never be helpless again and regularly has nightmares/flashbacks of his childhood in the Di Fortress in which he didn’t have the strength, training, or skills to defend himself properly, and to times he was helpless and couldn’t control his own body because of the mind control bug that had been put into him against his will. His nightmares show that he remembers the pain it caused when the Di Fortress head rang the bell, and that the bug writhed in his neck while triggering that pain. In poisoning him with the Asura grass, something that literally moves and grows inside him to make him weaker and unable to fully defend himself, LLH could have unknowingly reenacted that trauma from Di Fortress. The fact that it happens immediately after two positive things–he had regained the strength he’d lost so he’d be feeling safer and freer than he had for the last decade, and the fact that he’d just found LXY alive after mourning him and losing interest in martial arts beyond wanting the security his skills provide–would have made this betrayal hurt even more: it’s the sort of thing that crushes hope and makes you think you’ll always be trapped. That it came from someone he cared for (as a rival, as an aspirational figure, as his equal, as a romantic prospect, etc.) and still mostly trusted could have itself been a trigger because of the early days at Di Fortress when he learned the hard way that his options were kill or be killed, and trust and kindness didn’t fit into that world.  Despite the fact that LLH’s using Asura grass on him would be an incredibly painful combination of triggers and terrible timing, DFS stays mind-boggling in control of his external reactions. When he realizes his meridians are blocked, his face falls and his fingers twitch slightly (they are usually either held completely still in a studied, neutral rounded position or in a fist if he’s really mad about something and doesn’t mind showing it externally), and he starts to take a step towards LLH. But before he’s moved much at all, LLH tells him to stay where he is and not come closer. 

And he stops. 

He’s having Big Feelings about it (and who wouldn’t? Especially since part of his trauma is being immobilized when trying to get back at the person who harmed him!), as the Throat Bob of Feeling (his biggest emotional tell) shows, but he stops and hears LLH out. 

He escalates things later by putting his sword to LLH’s throat and telling him he’ll torture him to get the cure, but it’s more a warning than an actual threat; the fabric of LLH’s robes is between the blade and his skin so not even the flesh will be nicked. And once he learns that LLH is doing this not to harm him but because he wants his help–before he even knows what LLH wants his help with–he removes his dao from LLH’s neck and asks for more details. (There’s so much to say about how he wields words in this conversation, too, but it’s already getting too long!) This interaction shows that, for him, physical violence is to counter an active threat, even if he’s mad and hurting, and that his default even during times of extreme stress is to stay calm, despite how incredibly hard that would be for anyone.

DFS and FDB

This could be an entire meta on its own, but since it’s more obvious than some of the other points, all I’ll say here is that Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng argue and fight all the time, but Di Feisheng almost never instigates it: DFS usually tries to ignore FDB and walk away to avoid the conflict entirely, and once FDB throws the first punch, DFS’s goal is to get out of the fight, not to hurt him. Look at how FDB is actually trying to choke DFS when they’re wrestling and DFS is more bracing against his shoulder, as @difeisheng has said, or even at the rest of the fight choreography where each of DFS’ strikes is to force FDB to let go of him and to leave the room. 

(Note: FDB tries to strangle DFS first, whereas DFS is mainly trying to brace himself against his arms and keep him at arm’s length.

Even in the ep 13 fight, when Di Feisheng eventually poisons Fang Duobing with gang qi, he gives him several verbal warnings to draw his sword first, because he doesn’t want to fight someone who is unarmed. He’s also not trying to kill FDB; he’s trying to hurt him just enough that LLH is forced to ask for his help and agree to live. (More on this in the yin leaves meta I will eventually write.) So, again, it’s controlled violence in service of a larger goal, not vengeful, uncontrolled lashing out. 

DFS and the Limits of Emotional Regulation

There are 3 main times when DFS’ control over his anger/hurt/violence is shaken or in jeopardy: 1. when he finds out Li Lianhua was poisoned and is dying; 2. when he wakes up in pain and with no memories in the corpse seller’s place; and 3. when he wakes up from a nightmare/flashback–still without memories–in a bed with LLH hovering over him. For each, I’ll explain possible reasons the event could be so triggering to clarify why he struggled with emotional regulation. (Also, keep in mind that being triggered can happen even if the person in question doesn’t consciously know what triggered them or why, so while he might be aware of some or all of the connections between the present event and his past experiences, he wouldn’t need to be consciously aware of any of them for them to affect him emotionally and make it harder for him to control his response.)

Fight over Bicha

The scene where DFS learns that LXY was poisoned for their donghai battle and thought it was on DFS’ order is fascinating, because it is the most angry and volatile we see DFS at any point in the show as an adult: he yells, repeatedly, his voice shaking with emotion, and he chokes Li Lianhua twice. Given how tightly controlled he is the rest of the time—including when he confronts his abusers and any of the times he is captured or tortured (I’ll talk about the latter two in a dissociation meta later)—that means that whatever he is feeling must be overpowering to shake his iron control. So before we get into analyzing the way that he is still showing restraint, even here, we need to address why this realization would be such a trigger for him.

Although DFS claims he’s angry and upset about the realization because he wants to be the best in a fair fight and his previous fake victory made him seem like a joke, it seems highly likely he’s not telling the full story, since that’s not really a thing he does. (For a full listing of things he lies about or deliberately omits/withholds, check out this post.) In fact, it seems very likely his reaction happened because of just how many triggers this scenario managed to hit. For example, at Di Fortress, he was forced into fights he didn’t want to participate in, where the odds were stacked against him because he was a child forced to fight people older and more experienced than he was, so as an adult, he wants to fight people who are at his level, and not people weaker than he is, because he doesn’t want to continue the cycle. This is why he isn’t interested in fighting other people on the martial arts list, why he barely expends any power at all on fighting the Sigu sect members, etc. He knows what it feels like to be on the other side of that, and in the same way that he wants to free the children in the Di Fortress so they don’t have to suffer as he did, so he wants to never be the cause of someone suffering under an imbalance of power. Also, since every escape attempt from Di Fortress and every attack against his abusive master was rigged against him—because the mind control bug could stop him in his tracks—he likewise doesn’t want to deprive someone of their agency like that. We also know that Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi signed a peace treaty for five years, where they promised not to attack each other; that promise not to attack each other was exactly what he kept trying to form with the other prisoners in Di Fortress, but he couldn’t find anyone to agree and just got stabbed for his efforts.

Li Xiangyi breaking the peace treaty would have shattered that dream (and probably his heart a bit, too), but even that wouldn’t hurt as much as finding out, all at the same time, that: 

1. He had thought he was the best in the world at martial arts which to him meant safety and security from Di Fortress, and he just found out it was based on a lie; 

2. His now second-in-command, JLQ, had poisoned LXY (which violated the peace treaty), a betrayal that would reactivate his already very prevalent trust issues; 

3. He had fought and almost killed someone in a rigged fight when he tries to be deliberate about his kills and violence so as not to perpetuate the abuse he suffered from; 

4. JLQ had essentially tried to turn him into the butcher the head of Di Fortress wanted him to be, and he hadn’t known it for a decade; 

5. LXY had spent a decade thinking DFS endorsed the sort of abuses he abhorred;

6. LXY is now dying and mostly powerless because of what was done in his name and because he didn’t notice the poisoning kicking in, and LXY refuses to fight for his life or to give DFS a chance to save him and essentially undo the harm that has been done. To DFS, LXY is making him complicit in his death yet again, which would mean being again responsible for the death of someone he wants to live, just like he was as a child. 

Oh, and he’s facing all this with his meridians blocked and without access to his qi, which means he’s most likely feeling perpetually hypervigilant and helpless, which would mean everything is likely to feel like even more of a threat and emotional regulation is even harder.

In short, it is a clusterfuck of epic proportions. And this is all assuming that he mainly thought of LXY as purely a rival he respected: if you read DFS as already loving LXY (whether he realizes it consciously or not), you can see why it would be even worse.

And of course, all of Li Lianhua’s suggestions that DFS pretend he didn’t hear or move on and fight someone else are not addressing the main issues, because he doesn’t know them. But if DFS wasn’t about to tell LXY that someone was framing the Jinyuan alliance for the murder of SGD a decade ago, he’s certainly not about to tell him his deepest secret–that due to a mind control bug, one ring of a bell can render him absolutely helpless, which is why fair fights and being strong enough to defeat any enemy are incredibly important to him–so of course, to LLH, it’s just about DFS wanting to prove he’s the best as part of an ego trip, even though that’s not it at all. And of course LLH’s dismissiveness is going to make everything worse for DFS.

With all that in mind, let’s look at his body language and actions to see how he handles things when he is incredibly close to losing it. Although he does lash out, his first choice, as always, isn’t violence: he gathers info via eavesdropping–rather than bursting in during a fit of rage as soon as he learns the truth–and when he confronts LLH, he yells at him first, telling him what he overheard. It’s only when LLH tries to avoid the subject by snarking at him about eavesdropping instead of telling him the truth that DFS grabs LLH by the neck and shoves him against a pillar. 

The moment in the entire show he is at his angriest is when he yells “It matters!” after LLH says it doesn’t matter who won or lost.

This is what DFS looks like when he’s losing control: his arm shakes for an instant before he locks the muscles to keep in place, and he puts a tad more pressure than he meant to on LLH’s neck before he realizes it and pulls back again. He’s been incredibly truthful here, in a way: the fact that he didn’t win because Li Lianhua was poisoned matters tremendously to him. He’s just not saying why and letting LLH believe the worst of him, which is another of his common strategies.

In case there’s any doubt that DFS’s choking of LLH is more designed to warn than to harm and is overall incredibly controlled apart from that moment, just look at his grip: Li Lianhua can talk and breathe normally and even turn his head the first time, so this move designed to show that DFS is mad, hurt, and serious about the conversation rather than actually trying to hurt or punish LLH or cut off his air. He also lets go completely while trying to convince LLH to let him cure him. He only grips Li Lianhua’s neck again when LLH refuses to accept help and only applies any real force when Li Lianhua essentially calls his bluff about killing people from Baichuan Court (or rather, tells his own bluff–a lie that he doesn’t care what happens to them). 

Even there, since he’s making threats he doesn’t mean, he’s very much trying to play into the villain role LLH saw/sees him as (the person who murdered SGD, broke a peace treaty, and poisoned him), but he’s not doing it to harm LLH or “just” force him to have a second duel: he’s doing it to try to convince him to live, to give him something to fight (him) for: the safety of other people DFS thinks LLH cares about most. 

After all, most of the conversation isn’t about a second duel at all: it’s about DFS trying to convince LLH to let him find a cure. No wonder he has the Throat Bob of Feeling twice when LLH explains that he’s dying and doesn’t have much time left.

With that in mind, the fact that DFS uses the traditional Di family choking move again when LLH refuses to agree to let DFS try to cure him is a fascinating metaphor for how DFS approaches violence when it comes to LXY: he’s using a move designed to cause harm, but with the intent to convince LLH to accept help. In other words, he’s using a technique designed to kill to try to force Li Lianhua to live.

a-Fei and Hypervigilance

Even when DFS wakes up with amnesia, only remembering “kill or be killed” and some of his worst trauma memories, and would be most likely to act on pure instinct, he still exercises restraint. When he finds himself first at the corpse seller’s and later at Lotus Tower, not knowing how he got to either place, it would be the work of a moment to snap the neck of the man trying to sell him to be married to a dead woman without his consent, or to stab the hair stick (or knife? I can’t tell which) from the nightstand through Li Lianhua’s throat. But even then, when he’d have every reason to assume his life is in jeopardy and he needs to kill first, he doesn’t. In both cases, he pauses, gathers information, and listens, and lets go. (And yes, he collapses in the first of these two instances instead of actively making the choice to let go, but he’s already loosened his grip to listen to Li Lianhua, and when he sees the corpse seller the next day, he doesn’t try to harm him, or even exhibit any animosity at all toward him, showing again that once the threat is passed, so too has his desire for violence.) Even when he’s under threat or having a flashback and all he knows is killing, he doesn’t kill. 

DFS and Violence against Abusers

Even when he does intend to harm–particularly with his two abusers, the head of Di Fortress and Jiao Liqiao (who he kills, even though it goes against his policy of not killing women)–his emotions and actions are tightly controlled: while he does choke them and destroy their meridians, and tell them why he’s getting revenge, his voice, strength, and facial expressions are almost superhumanly regulated. 

Confronting an abuser is incredibly difficult, because it usually triggers the feelings of fear and helplessness that were experienced during the abuse. It might be hard to imagine DFS feeling fear or helplessness because he doesn’t explicitly show it as an adult much, but the fact that he still has nightmares/flashbacks of being immobilized and hurt by the head of Di Fortress means that even though he’s an adult who is at the top of the jianghu, he’s still regularly re-experiencing the terror of being helpless and at his mercy for decades, and his fear of helplessness has motivated almost every action of his since. That means that he would be struggling during that confrontation, fighting off literal and emotional flashbacks and/or dissociation, and trying to convince his brain that he’s no longer a helpless child about to be punished or killed. And, generally speaking, once you’ve confronted one abuser, future confrontations with different abusers trigger all the feelings from the confrontation with the earlier abuser, especially if the aftermath of the confrontation was traumatic (which, given that it’s when JLQ incapacitated, captured, and tortured him, it definitely was). So, when confronting JLQ, he’s probably reexperiencing that fear and helplessness on top of everything else.  And, given how often we see him show nothing, even while being tortured, the cracks in his facade here speak to just how deeply the confrontations are affecting him. 

He doesn’t even raise his voice, and the only hints of the toll the confrontations are taking on him are tiny, almost invisible facial movements, which you can see in the gifs below:

When the head of Di Fortress offers to make him the new master and in charge of abusing others, the muscles of one cheek and under the opposite eye start twitching.

(and zoomed in if you need a close up!)

2. When JLQ taunts him after he broke free from her prison by saying “Do you want to escape?” his jaw works from side to side as he forces himself to not react.

3. When he chokes JLQ after she says she’ll kill LLH for being the reason DFS doesn’t love her, it takes him two tries to speak before his voice works (look at his lips forming the opening word twice before working the third time.)

So, clearly, the lapses in his control aren’t violent outbursts; they speak to something far more nuanced than that, namely, the emotional turmoil confronting an abuser brings up.

[Also, compare this to LLH’s reaction when he finds out SGD tricked their shifu into sacrificing himself for him. He’s flooded by his emotions, which affects his fighting style, and it triggers a Bicha flare. Note: I’m NOT criticizing LLH here. His reaction makes perfect sense and I’m not saying DFS’ approach is better. I am saying that it’s unusual to have the hero be the one who lashes out and has less emotional control and to have the person the jianghu sees as the temper-tantrum prone villain be the one who keeps his emotions in a chokehold.]

So many shows have confrontation scenes with an abuser be either profoundly triumphant events or violent revenge fantasies where the character almost loses control beating up the person who harmed them. These scenes are fascinating not just because DFS doesn’t rejoice or lose control, but because of the way DFS’ microexpressions show how hard the confrontations are for him. These are not the actions of someone who is controlled by rage or violent impulses. They’re the actions of someone who has spent so much of his life with his body controlled by the non-existent mercy of others that he refuses to let anything, including his emotions and memories, wrestle his hard-won control of his body away from him. Of someone who knows what it’s like to suffer, powerless, at the violent hands of others, and tries to make sure that the violence he commits with his own hands is well-reasoned and justified. Of someone who is hypervigilant not only to external threats but to the threat he himself could be.

In other words, the extreme amount of control he exercises over himself and the way he is hypervigilant to the threat that he could pose and the way he goes out of his way to not abuse power over others the way he was abused is itself a manifestation of his complex CPTSD.

The portrayal of his cPTSD is particularly interesting when you realize that the out of control, hyperviolent danger to society villain stereotype is exactly who the jianghu thinks Di Feisheng is for most of the show. But the reality is that Di Feisheng has more self-control than the rest of the lotus trio (certainly more than Fang Duobing does), even when he’s being violent. And, just as the jianghu’s legends have very little basis in reality and do damage to the characters, so does the caricature of a hyperviolent traumatized villain have almost nothing in common with the real experiences and symptoms of cPTSD and actively harm survivors. And I’m thrilled that this show is giving us new narratives about trauma to challenge that stereotype. 

As for how he holds on to that type of control over himself, given that struggles with emotional regulation are part of having complex ptsd? The short answer is a combination of compartmentalization, dissociation, habit, and grounding techniques (including meditation). 

Stay tuned for a post on these coping mechanisms and the evidence from the show that he uses them.

[gatheredfates]

In the wake of there not being much to update the Compendium with, I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to promote the project broadly again. ✨

Hi! My name is Sea, and I have an unhealthy obsession with taking on large community projects! This is my Final Fantasy XIV Community Compendium, focusing on linking as many XIV writing/roleplaying discords, forums, events, free companies and resources as I can get my hands on. While the inspired by and predominately tailored for role-players, it should have something for anyone looking to engage creatively with the game in some capacity.

If you'd like to simply check out what the Compendium is all about and miss my waffling below, any of the links on this post will take you there — but this is a handy one! A reblog also goes a huge way to increase my reach and find communities/resources. You're also welcome to share this post with people not on Tumblr who might be looking for communities/resources, or have something to add.

What is the Compendium?

In my opinion, the way people engage with fandom and communities has changed. It was once extremely common for people to hop onto the XIV Roleplaying Forum or find people looking for contact on Tumblr, but most of these resources have shifted to Discord. While Discord is great for keeping a community when you have it, the isolation of these communities into hidden, secular spaces doesn’t do a lot to help people find them in the first place and creates an air of loneliness/disconnect for new players or people looking to find specific communities.

I don’t believe that a person should necessarily be a part of x amount of servers to find the one that suits them, nor that all communities should necessarily be on Discord — or just plain hard to find.

However, while this is currently the standard, I’d like to try and help these communities be fostered and seen in a place accessible to basically anyone with an internet connection. If one community has benefited from this document, then I have done my part.

What's on the Compendium?

Large-scale community discords such as the XIV Reddit Discord, Hunts, GPOSE promotions and broad-space roleplay servers that harbour a large number of people and are publicly available to all. These may not have an RP focus but will assist in other aspects of the game.

Free Company & community-focused servers. E.G. an Ishgardian Roleplay server whose mission is to foster a community for Ishgardian characters; an EU server created to help players struggling with timezones. This also includes event discords such as fight clubs, markets, cafes, etc.

Friend/casual servers that have a roleplay element but may be just a group of people looking to find others to hang out and do content with.

Miscellaneous. Likely to be less community servers and more resources such as lore compilations, how-to guides, gposing techniques, boosting blogs, etc. These may get their own dedicated section later.

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here, send me an ask with the relevant information contained on the Compendium, or join my Discord at SEAFLOOR (21+ only)!

Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. Again, all accessible on the document! 🪸

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads.

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include in-character tabloid blogs used to generate RP.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

FAQ.

I want to put my community on the compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community on the compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it.

What resources/communities can I add if I'm not the owner of them?

Mutual consent is extremely important to me, so anything that isn't a large-scale community OR a publicly accessible resource must be endorsed by the owner/admin/moderators in order to be added to the compendium. I operate under the assumption that a resource posted to a public space (tumblr, googledocs, youtube, etc) is open to all. A large-scale community is one with a significant member count or openly advertises itself as being accessible to everyone for whatever purpose it serves. If in doubt, please get in touch with me. I'm happy to contact your community owners for you!

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, absolutely contact me about that.

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

[s-dei]

I wonder, how in your opinion did Illidan's and Khadgar's relationship started?

Hi anon!!! Thank you for askin, it will be fun to dive into my mind of 5 years ago and recall all the stuff :'D (It can go out of control…)

(IT DID went out of control, so I'm throwin it under the cut 😂) There may be typos or mistakes, haven't checked and lazy.

I think I should start with character's reasons to be interested in eachother. Like, beside from "we happened to be in the same place doing the same thing (fighting Legion)", a more specific moments from the both sides.

Khadgar's side: 1) He was glad to get one more ally who is really passionate to fight Legion. Of course, Legion was everyone's business at a moment, and there were a lot of powerful allies. And Illidan is well - pretty controversial person. But at this moment Khadgar was really exhausted, and still was questioning a lot his Guardian role (even if it was only nominal), and Illidan was realy personal with Legion. So he was mostly glad someone else wanted to take the main role (while there also were moments of regret xD)

2) That's a curious magic nerd Khadgar. And an ancient demon-elf. Of course he wants to ask something, even if he knows even more ancient creatures. While not using it himself, he would enjoy to listen about dark ways of magic or something.

3) Illidari. He was unsure at first, but in the end enjoyed 'babysitting' them. Even when Illidan is back, he still cares about them and asks if they need something, or just comes to chit-chat. He is also curious to know especially about the bond of Illidari and their Master, from the both sides.

Illidan's side: 1) That's a magic nerd Illidan (in other ways, but still here we are). And a human mage wielding a great power AND having mark of Sargeras left on his aura. Of course Illidan is curious about it. And he wants it - in a greedy demonic way he holds back, so he is just going with decent conversation.

2) Khadgar is an ally you better to team up with. Of course Illidan Stormrage is mighty and powerful, but he still lives in society 😂 Azeroth changed a lot since he went to Outland, the ruling power is different now. Illidan came back to life, but he's still a war criminal, and many ppl want him dead or in prison again. Of cooourse they need him to fight Legion, but if the war is over succesfully, who will speak for him and Illidari? Oh, maybe it will be Khadgar, who is suddenly non-hostile (while he have all the rights to be after Outland?) Let's keep it as an option. Illidari say too that he's really cool ally.

3) Some really far-fetched stuff, but Illidan pays attention to details. Back in the WotA he was trained by Rhonin and fought along Kur'talos Ravencrest, and so he makes a remark about Khadgar and his raven form. Even if Illidan chooses his way himself (tm), sometimes he still thinks about the promised Fate of his, and wonders if it is in a things repeating. (That's just me bringin all the lore bits to one pile, I love it. Khadgar also was in a Black Temple. Mind it)

Both sides: sharing the feeling of a "missed time". One literally spent hella majority of his life in isolation, and the other turned into oldman in his 17 (or 19? damn i always confuse those numbers). I think it works kinda equal for them, and they went "oooh, you understand?"

Events

Sooo in my vision, Khadgar already had some opinion about Illidan and things to ask him, and Illidan was fine with speaking to him aside from Illidari to know more about events happened in the world. I think before Brokenshore campaign started, they had a few personal and group meetings, and found out that they share something in common while having different tempers.

When the campaign began, things went… complicated xD They started to find out their differences, and always were loud discussing it and their disagreement. Sometimes they started with disagreement and finished with agreement, keeping it with a passive agression :Д Were they mad? They had fun! Mostly. I think both enjoyed a 'look i'm having a dispute with this important dude'

But besides from discussing strategy and other serious stuff, they still had a moments of discussions of magic and past events (unless they were too personal). Khadgar shared stuff with him, from food and drinks to artifacts and books, and enjoyed watching how Illidan interacts with it. Sometimes amazed. And often endeared. There was actions from Illidan's side as well, but he mostly did it via Illidari (not like he was ashamed, just really busy). And they mostly said "yeeeeah this is from Lord Illidan!"

Eventually Khadgar fell in love and WAS TERRIFIED. He spent a lot of time figuring out what he really feels. When he came to conclusion, he thought a lot if he should confess, coz it's fkin Illidan Stormrage. It felt so crazy, but Khadgar decided that his life is going crazy for a while, and he decided to try. I can see Khadgar as a person who isn't going love crazy right away. He feels something buzzing, a certain kind of interest, but it's not a "omg this is the one and only person in my life" untill they go mutual. He, of course, will be sad if Illidan rejects him, and it will take some time to recover, but he isn't going to keep it forever.

And so he decided to confess. He purposely have chosen a short peacefull moment before some big battle in case if the things go awkward or even bad, so they both have an excuse to leave.

Now coming back to Illidan and what he felt. Ngl he's a complicated char if you want to go thoughtful with him. But I think during this time he became a little sympathetic with Khadgar. Found him special in one ways and annoying in others, but def considered him and ally and maybe even a friend, while he wasn't going to admit it outloud.

Still, the confession made him baffled (even if he suspected it a bit). If it was someone else, he would just say "lol no" and leaved. But he was really curious about Khadgar's reasons and what the actual fuck. He couldn't say he felt something even similar to love, but also didn't went with just a "no". He said that Khadgar is probably mistaken, or just don't realize that he isn't the type to build a 'true lovestory' with and live happily ever after. He is a demon and his passion is already going on hating Legion, so don't you expect a romantic fairytale. Khadgar said that he pretty aware of all of this, he isn't going to fix Illidan, or cure his scars, or bring him into typical lovey-dovey routine. "How about we just find our own way?"

You see, Illidan says "yes" in any case, but I can see it going in different ways: - First is a direct "yes", but not in a "i want to be with you" way. It's a "You know what, I will be with you, and I'm curious how you gonna handle it". Being baffled at first, he is now going into offence and declares "If you want a challenge, I'm giving it to you". Not love - a challenge. The challenge isn't about Illidan being a demon/ancient/edgy person. It's about the fact Illidan knows zero shit about romance and he's goin to explore it and experiment af (of course he didn't said it literally, but he implied). He is going to be unbearable. And he enjoys how Khadgar reacts - confused and happy and non-believing and terrified. He's goin to love it. - Second is Illidan taking a time to think, and they talk once more after the battle was over. This conversation is more calm, more intimate and Illidan lets Khadgar close to try and see how he feels about it. They speak about some personal stuff, and while Illidan didn't said it directly, he implied he don't mind to try (yet warns that it still won't be a lovey-dovey stuff). (ngl, their moment of confession is so hard, I tried to write it 5 times with different words, so I will never come to a single solution)

Illidan promised no lovey-dovey, but he found out he enjoys it actually 😌👌

I think I have some more stuff to say, but this post already went WILD. IDK, feel free to ask more direct questions or somethin :)

[covid-safer-hotties]

COVID isolation continues four years later for some residents at higher risk - Published Aug 30, 2024

Sara Anne Willette has spent more than 1,620 days in isolation since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic.

The New Jersey resident took health precautions in public before the pandemic because of her common variable immunodeficiency, which means she doesn't make enough antibodies to fight infections.

Simple tasks like going for a walk down the street or taking a trip to the grocery store are laden with safety hurdles and anxiety for Willette.

Stressful tasks, like moving from Iowa to New Jersey during the pandemic for her husband's new job, are now even more taxing. The two drove overnight to avoid crowds at gas stations and rest stops, and she's prepared to do it again. The substantial health precautions in her day-to-day life are forcing her and her family to pack up their life once more and look for a new home in the countryside.

"I'm angry that society is largely inaccessible and I have to risk my life for the bare minimum, like medical care," Willette told ABC News in a phone call. "Why live in civilization if all of it is completely inaccessible?"

More than four years after the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, Willette is among the immunocompromised and disabled Americans who've complete changed their way of living to survive.

Her anger was tinged with disappointment as she talked about how the rest of the world has gone back to normal despite the hundreds of people across the country dying from COVID-19 each week amid a summer surge of the virus.

COVID-19 has also been a debilitating event for tens of millions of people who have or are currently experiencing long COVID, which in some cases has been defined as a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act. With some lawmakers beginning to propose mask bans in hopes of reducing crime, it's no longer an option for some to live life normally among the rest of society.

Willette was among the people ABC News checked back in with after previously talking to them about isolating two years after the pandemic began.

Finding a new normal There are simple joys that Willette misses: having a garden, running, walking, letting her dogs run without a leash and drinking coffee on a porch.

She's planning on moving to the mountains -- somewhere between New Hampshire and Virginia -- and gaining enough acreage to allow her and her family to embrace the activities they lost during the pandemic. However, being alone out in the countryside isn't the goal for Willette.

Rather, she intends to build a pathogen-aware community. That means buying enough land so other disabled, immunocompromised or health-conscious able-bodied people who don't want to get COVID-19 can join them and create a home of their own.

"We want something that feels like normal but is set up in a way that we decrease harm for everyone in the community," Willette said. "We can't do that in an urban area or even in a suburban area. There are too many risks."

Her mother and mother-in-law intend to move and join Willette, her husband and her son on the property as well.

For Charis Hill, a California resident who has a systemic inflammatory disease and takes immunosuppressive medications, it's been hard to access an in-person doctor's appointment since many safety precautions for COVID-19 are no longer being taken in medical care facilities.

As someone with "high-level medical needs," the lack of COVID precautions has even made seeking routine care a challenge.

"Just the fact that a medical environment that is supposed to know what a virus can do, most medical environments no longer require masking, and that's what makes it unsafe for people like me to go, for anybody to go," Hill told ABC over the phone.

"The impact of the delayed care, where people can't go get routine care, that's going to affect the whole health care system. Emergencies happen because of delayed care."

Despite the stress and forced isolation, they find moments of joy growing their own food in their garden, and stay busy by working to reduce the local feral cat population through Trap-Neuter-Return practices.

They break their isolation monthly to meet at a park with a close-knit circle of friends who take similar safety precautions -- they're all masked, socially distanced and have tested beforehand.

"That's really the only way for me to meet strangers and also to make new friends," Hill said.

Mask bans would further bar immunocompromised people from public life, according to Hill.

Such bans "make it unsafe for us to exist," Hill noted, because people may feel pressure not to wear masks when they're sick or if immunocompromised people are worried about backlash for doing so.

With more people testing positive for COVID this summer, and with the fall and winter virus season ahead, Hill says society's "new normal" should involve free testing, vaccines, access to at-home antiviral therapy paxlovid and flexible hybrid working options to mitigate the spread of illnesses.

"We need a new normal, and a new normal that is equitable for everyone, and that not only prioritizes high risk people, but that also reduces infection overall," Hill said.

COVID concerns for the immunocompromised population Immunocompromised people -- about 3% of the adult population in the U.S., according to the National Institutes of Health -- continue to face potentially serious medical complications or death when it comes to COVID-19. Even for those who were not previously at risk now have seen life-changing heath impacts.

"Long COVID can happen to anyone, and I have certainly seen young, healthy, vigorous athletes have prolonged, debilitating symptoms from long COVID," Dr. Jeannina Smith, the medical director of University of Wisconsin's Transplant Infectious Disease Program, told ABC over the phone.

However, society has largely appeared to have moved on. The CDC stopped recording some COVID-19 related data and some politicians have proposed mask bans as a potential solution to crime.

"It takes us a step back for public health," Hill said. "We have other pandemics that are coming, and it's going to make it harder to reenact mask mandates if we need them in the future."

For the immunocompromised, regular society could seem like a minefield, according to Dr. Cassandra M. Pierre, the medical director of Public Health Programs and the associate hospital epidemiologist at Boston Medical Center.

She noted that people at higher risk for complications "are still, unfortunately, in our hospitals today. We see that they have this forced risk of going on to develop critical COVID or potentially even die. This is still occurring. COVID is still happening."

This is all happening despite a better understanding of disease transmission and the information needed to be better equipped to empower communities to protect their health, Pierre added.

Patients have been harassed or mocked for wearing masks in public, Dr. Jeannina Smith noted, despite international and national medical organizations emphasizing the importance of mask wearing as a mitigation tactic for illnesses. Hill has experienced this first hand.

"You can't look at someone and know that they're receiving immunosuppression for an organ transplant or an autoimmune condition, and they remain at risk," Smith said.

"Even if you don't have individual risk, any person can still spread COVID to someone who has higher risk," she said. "In fact, much of the spread continues to be from asymptomatic person. The very idea that we would criminalize wanting to protect our fellow citizens is pretty horrific."

The federal government has recently changed its tune amid the summer COVID spike and is preparing for the upcoming fall and winter season by approving and granting emergency use authorization for updated COVID-19 vaccines and restarting its free at-home COVID tests program.

[flowerandblood]

My Best Friend (3)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: fluff, mention of  stalking, swearing]

[description: Aemond has his own club and often does business at the home of one of his business associates. There he often meets his younger sister, with whom he develops a deeper relationship through shared secrets. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist  

_____

"What was that?" Klaus's voice expressed surprise and uncertainty. Y/N turned to her window and sighed. They were on their way home in a taxi.

"Nothing. Aemond just told me something sad." She said finally, and though it was true, she knew, it didn't sound convincing. Her brother came to the same conclusion.

"That's why you stuck to him and cried?" He asked disapprovingly. Y/N just made a sound of tiredness and resignation.

"Please, have mercy on me today."

Once they got home, Y/N went straight upstairs to her bedroom. She changed into her pajamas, threw herself on the bed, her face down on the pillow, and thought. 

What Aemond had told her kept running through her mind. She understood now, why he was angry with her. He took it personally. If she knew about his past, she would never tell him about Albert, so he wouldn't have to go through it all again. But it was too late.

She knew, he was involved now. That from now on, every conversation with her would remind him, of what that woman had done to him. Just thinking about it made her chest tighten. 

She tried to close her eyes and fall asleep, but she kept seeing an 18-year-old with a 40-year-old woman in her mind. Her heart was pounding. Resigned, she picked up her phone to check the time. It was almost three in the morning.

She was tempted to write to him. Text him, that if she could, she'd strangle her too. But she knew, he wouldn't like it. From what she could see, Aemond didn't like being bothered or texted, unless it was nothing important. 

When they left the club, he seemed tired and resigned. She felt, that he regretted having told her all this. In addition, she was afraid, that Klaus would start to isolate her from him, thinking, that they had something completely different in common.

She jumped as her phone lit up and she heard it vibrate. She saw, that she had one new message. She thought it was Albert again, but when she unlocked the keypad, she saw, it was Aemond. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, she felt shivers. She opened the message.

A: "Are you sleeping?"

She replied quickly.

Y: "No. Something happened?"

She held the phone waiting, but instead of a message, she saw an incoming call. Aemond. 

She stared at the screen, her heart pounding wildly. She didn't have the strength for another confrontation with him, but since he was calling her of his own free will, he apparently couldn't sleep himself. 

She picked it up and pressed the phone to her ear, lowering the volume of the speaker with her finger, so that no one couldn't accidentally hear, what he might have said.

"Hi" She said softly, almost a whisper. 

There was silence on the other end. She heard his sigh, so she knew, he was there. She could feel his embarrassment even over the phone. She guessed, that he was furious with himself, and if he could, he'd erase the memory of his confession from her mind. But it was too late. After a long pause, she decided to take pity on him.

"I won't tell anyone. I promise. I know you regret telling me that." She said softly. For some reason, her throat was constricted." Don't think about it and try to rest."

She heard another sigh, longer this time.

"Good night." He said softly and hung up.

***

Aemond woke with a lump in his throat. He couldn't forgive himself for the sudden hole in his mind, that made him tell Y/N about this embarrassing event in his life. He didn't want her to look at him with pity now, like his mother who had never forgiven herself, for letting this woman into their house. 

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, his mind blank. He laughed at his own desperation, at the fact, that he had called her and couldn't get a word out. He was just pathetic in his eyes.

He remembered, that Klaus was having a birthday party at their house in two days. He'd invited everyone a few months ago, probably including Albert. The last thing he wanted was to be there, but the thought of Y/N and Albert being alone with so many people, chilled his blood.

On the day of the party, Aemond decided to drive straight from his club to them. When he arrived at their house, there were already plenty of cars parked in the driveway. From their garden came the sounds of music, barbecues and people talking. It was a pleasant, sunny and summer evening.

Aemond walked around the house, going straight to the garden. The party was impressive. Several tables were set up, so that the most important customers and business partners sat together, and friends and family together. Colorful ribbons were hung, loudspeakers stood around, a hired crew added food from catering to platters on special tables. 

Off the beaten track stood a tiny bar, also manned by a man, and crowded around it. Aemond saw Klaus in the crowd. He was talking to a man, who looked like his father. He didn't look pleased. Aemond wondered, if Klaus was talking to him about Albert.

"Aemond!" He heard a happy, and at the same time, confused voice from behind him. 

He turned to see, that Y/N was standing in front of him, smiling warmly. She was wearing a simple, short floral dress in blue and white, highlighting her eyes and dark hair. The front strands of her hair were pinned back, as his own, apparently to keep them out of her way. 

It was obvious, that she was hot, holding a platter in her hand. Apparently, she was watching over the whole event. 

"How nice, that you came." She spoke softly, and he knew, that she meant it. 

“Do you want me to make you a drink? The bar is crowded, but we still have plenty of supplies in the kitchen." She said, the corner of her mouth twitching, as if she wanted to laugh.

“No, thank you.” He replied politely, not wanting to add more work to her.

"Come.” She nodded at him and he just followed her. He wondered, if he should return to the topic, that they had brought up at the club, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, who am I seeing! I knew coming here was a good idea." A mature woman in an elegant black dress approached him with big smile. Her hair was tied up in an unruly bun. 

Aemond freezed, and Y/N with him, looking at the woman in surprise. Aemond had the feeling, that he was about to sink into the ground.

"Kate." He said calmly, in surprise. "Hi."

The woman laughed as he paused.

"And that's it? Are you ashamed of me in front of your little friend?" She asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows, her voice amused.

Y/N blushed in embarrassment, which didn't escape his notice. She wanted to say, that she'd go away and won't bother them, but Aemond spoke first.

"I am not ashamed. I just have nothing to say to you." He said dryly and coldly, infuriated by her remark. 

“Come on” He said to Y/N, without looking at her and they walked ahead. Y/N followed him, but didn't miss Kate's hurt expression.

They walked through the crowd in silence. Y/N set the platter she was carrying back in its place. They both stood silently for a moment, the music pounding around them, making Aemond feel, like his head would explode. 

He looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, but somewhere to the side, lost in thought. For a moment, he thought of apologizing to her, but he knew, that would make her want to ask questions. He didn't want that. He decided to change the subject. 

"I guess I need that drink after all." He admitted resignedly.

Y/N finally looked at him, a slight smile of amusement betraying, that she understood the allusion. She looked at him sympathetically and they both headed towards her house. 

They climbed the stairs from the terrace, crossed the hall, and reached the kitchen. The warm, orange light of the setting sun streamed in through the windows. They were alone.

"What will you drink?" She asked, opening the bar. He had to admit, that the arsenal of alcoholes they had was impressive. He knelt beside her, sorting through the bottles, finally selecting one of the whiskeys. 

Y/N also made herself something to drink, vodka mixed with mango juice and ice. They took a sip from their glasses, the music still pounding in the background. 

He could see from her expression, that she was barely biting her tongue to keep from asking about the woman, that they had encountered. He appreciated her fight with herself. Most of the women he met didn't care, if he wanted to answer their questions.

His face hardened, as he saw Albert appear in the kitchen. He smiled at the sight of them, but it was a smile, that did not reach his eyes. 

He was a tall, handsome man. His blond hair was neatly styled and combed. His jacket and shirt were perfectly ironed. Y/N pressed herself tighter against the kitchen cupboards, as if that would protect her from him in any way.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, partly amused, partly ironically.

Aemond stared at him silently.

"Get the fuck out." He said finally. Y/N looked at him in horror. Albert laughed and shook his head, as if he had misheard.

"Excuse me?"

"Get the fuck out. It's a private conversation." He said coldly, his gaze dark and intense. 

Y/N felt, that Aemond could really do something to Albert. She was so shocked, that she couldn't utter a word. Albert probably did not expect such a turn of events. He laughed under his breath, but his look did not express any amusement.

"So I'm interrupting. I see. I thought, that you liked much older women."

Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. She stared at Aemond with wide eyes, terrified, afraid of his reaction. For some reason, she was having a hard time catching her breath.

"I heard, that you like to send pictures of your dick to girls, who don't want to look at it." He evaporated through clenched teeth. 

The atmosphere in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Y/N breathed heavily as Criston entered the room.

"Hi! Why are you all hiding here?" He asked, looking at everyone in turn. Seeing their expressions, he was confused. "Everything's all right?"

Albert started to reply, but Aemond was faster.

"Yes. Albert was just telling us about his new investments.” His voice was ironic and cold. He took a sip of his whiskey, keeping his eye on Albert. Albert snorted and laugh, walked over to Aemond. He patted him on the shoulder.

"You're a good friend. Have fun today.” He said, glanced briefly at Y/N and left.

Criston was asking questions about some light subjects, but even though Aemond and Y/N were answering them, it felt like their minds were somewhere else. 

Y/N knew, that Aemond had declared open war to Albert, and she knew, he wasn't going to let it go. Her whole body was tense like a string. Even though it was very warm, her body was shivering cold. 

Someone outside called Criston. Aemond assured him, that they would join him soon. Once they were alone, they looked at each other. There was nothing to say. Y/N's face showed desperation. Aemond was furious.

Y/N sucked in a breath as he grabbed her arm rather roughly and pulled her towards him, so that she bumped into him. Instinctively, she set her drink down on the counter beside them and snuggled up to him, hugging him tight, burying her face into his chest, as if she wanted to melt into him. 

Surprisingly, he hugged her just as tightly. She could feel his heart literally pounding like crazy. His grip was steel. The pleasant smell of his perfume filled her nostrils and somehow soothed her. She felt both of them breathing heavily and with difficulty.

"Don't leave me alone with him." She said softly, her eyes wide open, her breath ragged.

"You will sit next to me. All evening. Do you understand?" He asked, his tone brooking no objection.

She nodded her head, swallowing.

"Thank God, you're here." She whispered and closed her eyes.

Her confession made him feel a stab in his chest. Moved by some unfamiliar, intense feeling, he kissed the top of her head and buried his nose in her hair. Y/N froze. 

When he realized, what he had done, he released her immediately and reached for his drink. They looked at each other, her cheeks red. The scent of her hair still echoed in his nose. He swallowed and was silent for a moment.

"Let's go." He said finally.

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen,

I hope this finds you well. I’m sixteen and I’m seeking advice. I am mostly feminine, but in the last year I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with that, which has given me a sense of whiplash. I’ll be perfectly fine wearing a skirt and revealing top one moment, and then feel like I want to jump out of my skin the next. I know it’s normal to not have all the answers at my age, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

I live in a progressive city and was raised in a relatively accepting home, but I still struggle with my identity and have a hard time feeling comfortable with the word “gay.” I’m out to a few friends (some straight and some LGBT), but I still feel so alone. This, of course, makes me feel awful, because I recognize what a privileged situation I am in compared to a lot of lesbians, and I feel as though I “should” be more accepting of myself, i.e. I end up feeling guilty because I feel bad. Plus I’m all jumbled up about masculinity vs feminity… the point is, I could really use some advice from an older lesbian. I don’t know any of those in real life (actually, now that I think about it, I’m not sure that I know *any* lesbians at all in my personal life, which is pretty sad), and that makes it hard to envision any type of future for myself.

Thank you for your thoughts <3

It always makes me sad to read that young lesbians don't know any older ones in real life because I remember how isolating that felt. It was definitely one of the reasons I struggled so hard to be even just neutral about my sexuality and why I misunderstood being butch for so many years.

The butch/femme and masc/feminine discourse has gotten a bit out of control in large part due to the internet and social media. If you don't have real life intergenerational connections it can feel like ALL lesbians are on one side or the other of a very black and white line and that is just not the reality of real life.

I would say the majority of lesbians are "garden variety" or in the "comfy" zone of neither butch nor femme or neither masc or feminine. Just women who are lesbians and exist on the human level of having characteristics that are both stereotypical and non stereotypical as far as what culture assigns to us based on sex. Even butches and femmes do no necessarily check all the “boxes” the world thinks we should. 

My lesbians friends who are not butch or femme are comfortable in a wide range of clothing and hair cuts and it just depends on what suits them at the moment. Once we get a little experience under our belts out in the world we seem to learn to wear what is both comfortable and utilitarian without worrying about the perception of the outside world. When it comes to dressing up for an occasion like a date or an event I wear what makes ME feel best and while still balancing that with what I think women might find me attractive in.  I think it is a normal, common thought process shared with most other humans. We can choose what makes us feel good and still want to look good for others, especially other women. 

 I can assure you that, all jokes aside, no one can take your lesbian card for clothing choices, hair cuts or any other aesthetics. Your sexual orientation is what makes you a lesbian. Everything else is just being human.  Don’t mistake the community or experiences you might share (or not share) with other lesbians as a requirement of your lesbianism. Those are perks but not necessary. 

If you were sitting in your lawn chair by a fire pit with a variety of other lesbians you would hear many stories about how we struggled with being okay with our sexual orientation and it is not necessarily dependent on any support or lack thereof that we received. While an aggressively negative or anti homosexual home life, family or religious background can certainly make accepting ourselves much harder, even those of us whose family and friends were neutral or supportive had internal obstacles to overcome. 

Few humans are free from the affects of the outside world, even before social media. In my youth, movies, tv, magazine and my peer group all had some backwards ideas about what being a lesbian is and applied incorrect moral ideals to it.   I had to put in the work myself for many years to come to terms with being same sex attracted in a world that attached negativity to such relationships. Once I had lesbian friends, especially older ones I saw hope in my future. 

You are okay just as you are. Your personality, aesthetic choices and hobbies do not have any affect on your sexual attraction and orientation so be you, enjoy what you like and be honest with yourself about what kind of woman you want to love and be loved by. 

I hope you find some lesbian friends of many ages. In the meantime my tiktok might help you see that lesbian life can be full of happiness, friendships and variety. 

[happyk44]

Initially I wrote this because someone wrote that HPD can't be covert and I was like "no" but then I forgot about lol. Anyway, sure, HPD can be a predominantly overt disorder, but I doubt that means everyone with HPD is incapable of masking their symptoms.

In the few resources I've come across, there appears to be a bigger focus on the appearance/sexually provocative aspects of the criteria, so I wanted to think about other ways that people may attention seek or use to be the center of attention. Especially since coming up with the idea of HPD!Piper. She wouldn't behave in a flirtatious, provocative manner, so, other than her stealing, what else is there?

Since HPD is frequently comorbid some of it may overlap with other PDs but the intention behind the actions are to pull focus and be the center of attention rather than whatever the core(s) of the other PDs may be (e.g. constantly wanting to spend time together as a way to be in focus versus as a method to avoid abandonment in BPD).

If anyone reading this has HPD, please lemme know what you think. And feel free to add your own, if you want.

Anyway, the list:

Frequently gossips, lies, and/or starts drama

Enjoys being the source of information

Plays both sides of a situation depending on the people around them; does not develop their own opinion or thoughts on the situation; frequently plays Devil's advocate

Codependent

Lack of boundaries, both for themselves and towards others

Relies primarily on close friends and family for attention

Focuses on appearing conventionally attractive, rather than standing out/over the top

Adopts the interests and personality of those around them

Prioritizes shared/common interests; may become frustrated if someone wants to engage in an interest that is not shared between them or something they do not enjoy

Always offers to help or get involved, even if not needed or they have other things going on

Constantly helpless/clueless; frequently asks for help/assistance, even with basic tasks they know how or have been previously shown how to do

Constantly wants to hang out/go out; does not like or appears to dislike being alone or doing solitary activities

Indecisive and/or unwilling to present their own ideas, preferring to rely on others before making a choice; may intentionally choose against the common opinion to spark conversation/focus on them

Trolls people online/intentionally engages in discourse

Complains frequently, even over positive situations

Compliments others frequently to seek both approval and their own compliments in turn

"No one loves/likes me" behaviour

Over-exaggerates failings in order to seek consolation and/or reassurance

Downplays successes in order to seek more praise/appear humble

Broad interests with little devotion (e.g. being knowledgeable about makeup without using it because people around them like makeup; talks frequently about hiking or exercise but does not enjoy or engage in either without social motivation; etc)

Hops from trend to trend

Prefers to plan all group activities

Isolates frequently

Excessive people-pleasing behaviours

Excessively assertive, even to the detriment of others

Low self-esteem

Frequently impulsive

Threatens or engages in self-harming behaviours

Dresses against the norm/situation (e.g. wearing white to a wedding, dressing on the casual side to a black tie event, wearing a fancy gown to a sporting event, etc)

Breaks the law in an obvious manner and/or brags about it if successful

Frequently feigns illness or intentionally makes self sick

Irresponsible (e.g. spends money recklessly)

Overly generous (e.g. frequently picks up the check)

Lack of self-motivation/requires other people for direction, motivation, or to set goals for self

Overly trusting

Excessively overshares, even to strangers, or intentionally behaves to prompt questioning from others (e.g. people who huff and puff around so someone will ask them if they're okay - would be more covert than blurting out everything that's wrong without prompting)

[hel-phoenyx]

Nicomaque and Andreas belong to @soupedepates, Hei, Wren, Ocean, Sora, Maria Suzanna and Augusta to @noa-de-cajou and Natsuki and Fyodor to @corneille-but-not-the-author

____

I'm already beginning to feel tired. But Livia is too happy about that little outing, and Hope started smiling for the first time in months when I mentioned the idea of that general children-of-former-Ultimates playdate.

To be fair, it wasn't my idea. It's just that we, by pure coincidence, have a tendency to put our children in the same school and daycare, and today it's one of the events of said school. The school fair. And since I am trying very hard to be a good parent, and to give a safe space for children that don't have that luxury, I had to invite several people I didn't want to see.

It's for the children, mine as much as theirs. And because it was my idea, I have to assume the consequences.

So I swallow both my pride and honor, and sit down on the bench next to the only parent no one wants to approach but everyone needs to keep in check. Always for me the ingrate tasks.

"Don't make such a face, dear," Nicomaque laughs while putting out another cig. "I'm starting to think I am unwanted here."

"You are. Andreas isn't."

Said Andreas is currently running around the playground with Hei, Livia behind them holding one of those fake swords they sell at the fair. I'm sure Sachiko bought it for her because Thibault would find it too sharp, too violent, too dangerous for our little eight-years-old nightmare. She almost caught up to Andreas, who seems to have even less endurance than Hope. It may be the paleness of his skin, or the faint dark circles under his eyes, but it makes me wonder if he's taken care of properly.

Thinking about it, probably not. The one that knew how to left some time ago.

The father of that child chuckles, eyes locked on the playground.

"That is very rude, Blondie. Do you like me only for my child ? Didn't take you for THAT sort of people."

"I know what word you had in mind, and trust me, I didn't go from afraid of children to fucking pedo, thanks. I just want to make sure Andreas is supervised at least for a moment."

And I'm not the only one. Thus, explaining Augusta's presence, that is throwing daggers through her eyes at us since the beginning of the playdate. Maria-Suzanna is currently building a twig and pebble fort, probably to help defend against the assaults of my terrible daughter. I am not idiot enough to think the glaring of her mother is only for my current bench buddy.

She never got exactly why I stayed. I'm sure she had a lot of opinions in her mind, cowardice, weakness, evilness being the most common words, especially after what he did to Elvira and Fyodor. I don't intend to tell her I don't know.

Nicomaque is still smiling, even though contrary to me, he avoids this part of the playground like the plague. I am not in the right mood to turn the knife in the wound, especially with children present, so I don't make any comments.

A sigh escapes his lips.

"Come now, I am perfectly able to watch over my child."

"Me when I lie. What time did he go back to your house yesterday ?"

"That's just having freedom."

"Freedom at that age is the occasional allowance and the ability to go out alone with the certitude you're gonna be safe and someone is backing you up. Not being up doing you-know-what and hang out with you-know-who."

"I don't want to hear anything from the sheltered child."

"Maquo, sweetie, we were both raised in isolation and control. The only difference between us is that you were a product of emotionnal incest and I ended up tossed aside when proved useless."

That remark makes him shut up. About time. Livia is running towards me, with her cousins and Hope behind her. Andreas is following, albeit shyer. I think he's not used to so many children with temperaments such as the van Heels'.

"Papa, papa, can we get bubble waffle ? There is a stand held by Sora nearby, and I've been DYING to eat some !"

Hope is signing with her only arm something that looks like "me too" in arab sign language. Apparently she's not the only one interested, because the words "bubble waffle" is making my niblings vibrating with excitement, other children such as Wren, Ocean and Natsuki are joining the crew, and far away Maria Suzanna is looking at us with expectant eyes.

I guess Augusta told her to stay away. Fair.

Turning away from the deadbeat next to me, I smile.

"Do you intend for me to pay for all your little crowd ?"

"Well auntie Mareva said it's your turn to open your bank account, whataver that means. Can we, can we, can we ?"

Andreas looks towards me with glimmer in his eyes. He doesn't even spare a look towards his father, probably because he knew he already has his permission.

Nicomaque is not even affected by that lack of acknowledgement.

My heart can't help but tighten. In what world will that child grow up ?

I get up, with victory shouts of all the crowd.

'Alright, you little cockroaches. Let's get you something to eat, and me too for that matter. You want something, Nicomaque ?"

"Never gonna pass an occasion to eat the Ultimate Chef's food, especially if you're paying. Bring me a beer, while you're at it."

"Sure," I say, with absolutely no intention to comply. "Let's go, children, time for snack!"

[madeitlate37]

Midwest Angelica by Team AQ

Onto our second series, now, Midwest Angelica is significantly more recent than Gemini Home Entertainment, but has a lot of backing within the analog horror community. If one was to check out the main subreddit and peek at a few of the many tier-lists that came out around a certain point, Midwest Angelica tends to rank fairly high.

I will be honest and say that this didn’t end up being one of my favorites for reasons I’ll elaborate on in the more in-depth analysis, but I do see the appeal of it, and the hook at the beginning really caught my attention.

As before, some spoiler free qualities:

• Cosmic threats that aren’t just straight alien invasions.

• End of the world scenarios with a lot of fighting to prevent it.

• A threat that is way too smart for its own good.

• Hive-mind-threats.

• Rural settings, if isolation is your jam, Midwest Angelica has it covered.

• On-screen payoff, though this does come at the cost of having a cinematic shot in the middle of security recreations.

• Twisted security, not to the extent of Gemini necessarily but Midwest doesn’t just present footage as a way to convey important information/events.

• Not safe at home, this is done in regular horror a lot, but analog horror tends to make home invasion scenarios much mire real and scary, Midwest Angelica nails that in Act 1.

•Religious symbolism/literal representation, not necessarily a demon, which is rare to see with this kind of horror.

Now here’s the more in-depth look, again, more prone to spoilers:

Midwest Angelica, as I mentioned before, got my attention because it had an amazing dramatic hook, if you go to the YouTube channel, it’s right in the description. To be as spoiler-free as possible, if you enjoyed The Thing by John Carpenter, you’re likely to enjoy this one, too.

This series is good at developing the threat and making you recognize it as a threat despite showing it in the first episode. It overwhelms you with a chaotic situation and pulls you in to want to know what’s actually happening. Throughout this as well, the actual footage is broken up by digital simulations of events. The first episode alone is an excellent example of careful setup and payoff.

It also does a good job at demonstrating the spread of the threat, first it’s being observed by a space program, then it unexpectedly crashes and a team of researchers is sent after it, and when that doesn’t go well, we immediately see a family being attacked by it at their remote home. It’s a common setup for threats of this kind, but the analog format paired with how Team AQ actually handles it made it a lot more visceral and engaging.

The reason I didn’t end up liking it was because I’m personally less of a religious horror person, and because I felt disappointed at how the actual threat differed from what I imagined based on the hook. So it’s nothing the series itself did wrong and is just a preference issue on my end. I did end up being slightly broken from emersion because, as stated above, there was a well-done but out of place cinematic shot which included complete focus on a 3D model with not enough effects to cover the flaws in it. Again, it’s a preference thing for me, and the 3D is used to good effect in other areas of the series.

All of this being said, lots of people still love this series, so I will still recommend it. It has a large audience, updates frequently, and seems to know exactly where the narrative is going. And as we’ll see with other series’, the effects may be bad, but they might be able to be ignored if the concept is good and executed well enough.

Plus, this series is much shorter and less daunting to watch than Gemini.

So, if any of this seems interesting to you, it’s on YouTube as well.

As for next week…

[aceontheline]

Romance is Timeless: Prologue (Chapter 4)

C//W: Physical, Mental, Financial Abuse, S.A

Amy had agreed to date her newly close friend, Leon. Oh, how quickly she realizes the colossal mistake she's made.

((I've inserted a text cut. Only proceed with this chapter if you're okay enough to do so))

I don't understand what it is about my so-called "luck" when it comes to dating. Men or women, they've ended up being huge pieces of trash. Leon was no exception. In fact, I'd say that he was the worst of them all. Giovanni cheating on me with those girls felt like a walk in the park. Jessica forcing me to lose weight? Fucked up, sure. But not as bad as me being someone's personal punching bag/walking, talking sex doll.

Leon was a total sweetheart in the beginning. Always checking in on me, making me food when I forgot to eat. Super sweet, cuddly, funny & smart... The list went on and on. I know exactly where things went wrong. One of the boys from the friend group went off the handle after breaking things off with his girlfriend at the time. Leon witnessed his close friend, Kyle, slowly break down.

Kyle became this person who was obsessed with money, cars & women. But not the kind of "woman" that I was, for example. Kyle wanted a woman who didn't have body hair, no cellulite or stretch marks, had a "body count" down to 0 or less than 2, short and small... Basically, a child. I had called Kyle out on that and he stopped being friends with me after that. OH– Speaking of friends... I'm just going to list the ways that I was put through the worst type of crap.

Starting off with mental abuse. I was suddenly always coming home "too late" from work. Or hanging out with friends. During this time, I actually reconnected with Blitz and Husker. I would hang out with them separately on occasion. When the breaks in my work schedule would allow me. Blitz kept up his goofy and friendly energy toward me... Husker was getting a little flirty. But after not receiving love or compliments from Leon sometimes, it felt nice to hear Husker say the nice things he did. After about 7 months of dating, Leon though, he demanded that I lose all my guy friends. "I don't trust you around them when I'm not around. I don't hang with the girls anymore, so it's only fair you do this for me." To my knowledge, this was true. I slowly started ghosting Blitz and Husker, which made me feel sad to do. Eventually, it turned into: "You only leave the apartment for work & going shopping, the latter is done with me there too." So... Isolation.

Leon putting his hands on me was also common. If I didn't clean the apartment to his standards, he'd get me pretty good for it. Planned to hang out with friends? Without him? He'd go apeshit. Then, he claimed he was merely "teaching me a lesson" or "correcting my behavior." Leon would also just use me as a punching bag if he had a bad day at work. First, venting his frustrations. Then when I'd tell him I was too tired from work & clean-up to listen, he'd say, "Oh? You think YOU'RE tired? Let me give you a real reason to be 'tired' then."

The repeated counts of SA... Every time I told him I wasn't in the mood, Leon would guilt me into it. "You're my girlfriend. It's one of your duties to please me. If you don't, I could always look elsewhere," "I'm showing my attraction for you by doing this. I thought you'd want that," "Fine. No action from you? You can cuddle the long pillow you got because you don't deserve cuddles from me if you're not putting out..." If I started to cry, he'd just threaten the typical, "Oh, I'll give you a reason to cry."

These reasons were the main factors in me wanting to get the hell out. Problem is... There weren't that many gigs open for me at the time to continue my event planning gig. And Leon would make me pay him rent, as I was staying with him in his apartment, so that I could be in an at least somewhat safer part of Pentagram City. I knew I wasn't supposed to do this, but I asked Leon if I could just go out for a walk by myself, as I needed to make an important phone call. It was in regard to my "women's health." Leon grumbled a bit, agreeing to it.

I was doing no such thing. Instead, I called Husker once I was out of earshot. His pleasant voice made me feel better as soon as I heard him talk.

"Well well... Here's a name I haven't heard in a while. How're you doin', Amy? You wanna plan a hangout tonight? Or did you just miss hearing my voice?" Husker says all this in a teasing, somewhat happy tone. Poor Husker. Blissfully unaware of everything I was about to tell him.

After clarifying as to why I was calling, going into detail about Leon's abuse... I could hear Husker growling on the other end. He went on a rant of his own, saying how bad it was that I ended up in a situation like this. He thinks for a moment, then says the following in a rather stern tone of voice:

"I am getting you out of this. NOW. You are getting out of there & a restraining order on him while you're at it. Pack all your things & break things off with him. I'm sending some muscle & transportation to your place. You want them to take you straight to the station? Or to me?"

"... Husker, I can't thank you enough for this. Really. I mean it... I-I'll just go straight to you. I need a friendly presence in my life right now..." I reply, my voice a bit shaky. "Maybe I can see about staying with Blitz again until I find a place of my own" I finish.

"Ah yeah, I'd look into that. I'd offer you to stay with me, but you know him more, right?" Husker asks.

I also reiterate that it's because Blitz isn't as overtly flirty with me, to which Husker laughs. "Knowing you don't get it from Leon, though... Isn't it nice to feel loved & wanted, hm? Besides, he's an idiot. You deserve all the love, doll," he replies. Now I'm blushing a little, heading back up the stairs. I tell Husker to let me know when transportation is getting closer to me, so that I can run from Leon if needed. Husker sighs heavily after hearing that, agreeing to it.

Leon gets home from work and sees my suitcases briefly. I see the involuntary, somewhat scary twitch in his eye as he demands an explanation. At first, I told him that I planned a work related trip and that I needed to leave for a little while so I could be closer to the gig. Leon seemed to buy this, then asked me for what's dinner tonight. I sigh in relief, remembering that I was actually cooking it at one point. "Filet Mignon with Garlic Butter Potatoes. One of your favorites," I reply in a weak, somewhat happy tone. Leon nods in approval, going to kiss my cheek. He leaves & goes to the kitchen, grabbing himself a plate. I silently cried, as that kiss on the cheek was the first random act of love I've gotten from him in 2 months...

Just then, I get a text from Husker. "Transports on its way for you." At first, I hesitate, out of pure nerves and adrenaline pumping through me. But then, Leon "corrects" me for making his steak wrong. There's now a new black eye & bruises. Luckily for me, I was smart in figuring stuff out like this... Leon had cameras in his apartment, in case anyone came in & stole stuff or something. I set it up so the footage would make it to my phone as well. So, when I'd take this evidence to the cops later, they'd believe me. Along with everyone else in our friend group. When I got that text from Husker, I got up in Leon's face. My confidence returning.

"Listen... I have been nothing but nice to you. Patient, loving, understanding... Yet what have you given me time & time again? ABUSE. It's over, Leon. I'm leaving you." As I say this, I hold my butterfly knife in hand, making him tremble a little bit. "If you try to stop me, I KNOW how to use this!" I finish, holding the knife up to his throat.

"What? You think I'm scared of some small girl with a knife?" Leon jokes. "Also, 'leaving me?' Real funny, Baby. I've got my hooks on you. You ain't going nowhere–"

Just then, Leon and I hear some banging on the door. I confidently walk up & see three tall & large bodyguards. One of them goes to the room & gets my suitcases. Another one wedges himself in between Leon and I, while the last one of them takes me down to the car outside. "It's over, Leon. Don't call or text me," I say, following the bodyguard down the stairs. As the one with the suitcases leaves, so does the bodyguard who was shielding me from Leon.

When I arrived to Husker's Casino, I saw another familiar face sitting with him. Blitz. Tears in my eyes, I hugged Blitz as tightly as I could. When I tried to tell him, he clarified that Husker had already filled him in on everything. "As much as I wanna kill the bastard myself for doing this to ya... I know you probably wouldn't want me to" Blitz said, his voice shaking with anger. I nodded in agreement, knowing full well that killing Leon would probably pin Blitz and I & get us into deep trouble. And that it wouldn't really solve anything in the long run.

"I know, I know. No need to get the cops on my back. I'm kinda already in legal webs for I.M.P, but I got someone fighting in my corner for that. As for you, Amy? You're more than welcome to stay, until you're back on your feet. Same deal as before. Cleaning & occasional cooking. I just want you to see you happy & away from these jerks..." Blitz said, sympathetic hands on my shoulders.

"Thank you so much. Both of you, really. Blitz, for letting me stay again. And Husker... For doing all of that for me. The guards & the way out–"

"No need to thank me, doll. Was just doing what I knew was right. Now, c'mere," Husker replies, his arms for a hug. "I know how much you like hugs, ya Cutie," he finishes his thought.

I walk up to Husker, giving him a hug with the energy I could muster. Just then, him and Blitz take a look at my face. Husker turns off the club's multicolored lighting, shifting it to normal. He and Blitz are horrified to see the fresh bruises & black eye on me before I remind them that I have the footage of it to show to police. They collectively sigh in relief, as Husker goes to get me some ice for the eye. The guards recieved instructions to take my suitcases to Blitz' apartment then come back to the Casino, so I see them walk through the doors. Blitz asks me what I plan on doing now... To which I shrug my shoulders. As soon as Husker comes back in, I look to him curiously.

"I heard ya, doll. You're coming with me to get that fucker put in Jail. Or get a restraining order. Whichever comes first" Husker stated.

"If I may, Sir... Amy should get the order first so that Leon can not come within a reasonable distance of her. Press charges as well, of course. But while courts are processing this, Amy should either get the order or have Blitz or one of us protecting her" one of the bodyguards pipes up. Husker smirks.

"Good idea. Amy, you go home with Blitz, alright? Get some good rest & some time to think this all over, okay? Once you know what you wanna do, call me, okay?" Husker demands, to which I agree.

Blitz and I head back to his apartment. My suitcases are in the living room, delicately put down. Once he and I got situated... He hugged me close. "I'm so proud. Getting out of that must've been so scary. But you did it" he said reassuringly. I silently wept into Blitz' shoulder. I knew he was right... I just didn't care to hear how "brave" I was, over and over again. Because in truth... I felt like a coward. For never leaving Leon, even when a small part of me knew I should have.

I was a victim of abuse, through & through. I had seen the "Good days" Leon had and stuck with the belief that those would come back... Eventually. But when they didn't, and that belief bit me on the ass, I knew I needed an out.

Part 3: ( Here )

Masterpost: ( Here )

[yeehawbvby]

Am I ~seducing~ you? | Ch. 1*

(Piers x OC Maxine)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: "Piers stopped in his tracks as he watched his friend smile at him while propping herself onto her elbows, and then drop that smile and widen her eyes as they raked up and down his body. 

Oh, does it look bad? he worried to himself.

Then, he noticed Max’s face grow pink. Her ears and what little of her neck he could see followed as her cheeks turned a deep red he wasn’t sure he’d seen on them before.

…That must be a good thing then, yeah? Probably?"

Author's Note: Wowee, what a surprise, another romantically and sexually tense MinMaxShip fic!! (said no one ever)

I had way too much fun writing this. I’ve been dealing with tons of health issues lately, which has made writing kinda hard, but it’s fun being able to whip up silly one-shots here and there when I can.

Hope y’all enjoy x

Check it out on ao3!

Next

With battling being so ingrained into Galar’s culture, it was common for the region’s gym leaders to keep their stadiums open on holidays. Why would passionate trainers sit at home with their friends and families on, let’s say Christmas Eve for example, when they could go take on gym leaders as a group activity instead? 

Piers, preferring to do his own thing, would pick and choose which holidays to keep the Dark venue open. He’d take it year-by-year, seeing how he was faring the week of the occasion, and would advertise a celebratory event only if he felt like it’d be worth it. Oftentimes he’d forgo battling entirely, putting on a show instead; but regardless of what he decided on, he never failed to sell the venue out.

The amount of people who showed up proved to be far too overwhelming for Max, so she simply didn’t work holidays. She’d had one incident in her early days as a gym trainer where she tried to push past her immense discomfort and be there for a New Year’s event, only to have to hide away backstage due to a panic attack. It was for the best that she just stayed home. 

She didn’t mind it, despite how isolating it could be. If anything, she found comfort in how quiet their apartment building would become with so many people at one gym or another. 

This day in particular was Halloween, and Piers was readying himself for a concert. He’d always encouraged everyone — his staff included — to show up in costume. The practice kept employee morale higher, attracted more attention from fans and trainers alike, and honestly, Piers just found it fun. The idea of being able to dress any way he wanted to once a year excited him. It made him feel less self conscious when he wanted to experiment with wearing dresses, or different types of makeup, or whatever, because if he was met with criticism he could just blame it on the holiday.

Piers had his fair share of silly costumes, such as pokemon kigurumis or maid outfits. He’d never been the type to use Halloween as an excuse to look sexy like so many people do.

For some reason, he felt bold enough to change that this year.

He was a little self conscious as he inspected his incubus getup in the mirror. His high ponytail was complemented by a headband with two black horns, which held his fringe away from his face; he swapped his black eyeshadow for a deep burgundy, creating a smokey look in unison with his smudged black eyeliner; and he toyed with some faux fangs, ultimately deciding to wear them at least until he got on stage.

His usual pendant adorned his neck, and below it, his torso was practically bare. He had on a black, long-sleeved, mock-neck shirt, but the fabric ended in an upside-down v-shape just above his chest. 

Raihan, being a master of the craft of Looking Slutty, suggested Piers spice it up with some fake tattoos somewhere on his lower torso. He reluctantly did just that, drawing a small black wing with some eyeliner between each hip bone, slightly below his navel. He thought it would be too much but wound up liking it, especially preferring it over sporting a set of wearing fake wings.

He wore tight, black, leather pants, and would slip on some high-heeled leather boots on his way out, as usual. Today, though, he added a whale tail with a burgundy thong beneath it all — a little accent to complement his eyeshadow — and a black leather garter on his upper left thigh.

It wasn’t out of character for Piers to be completely shirtless at some points during his shows just due to sweat, but something about today felt so much more scandalous than usual. Maybe it was the attention he drew to his hips, or maybe it was the fact that he was arriving at the venue already practically topless. Who could say?

He wanted a second opinion on the outfit. Most of Piers’ buddies were gym leaders and busy prepping for their own celebrations, though, so Piers didn’t want to bother any of them.

That only left… Max and Marnie, he supposed. And there was no way in hell he was showing his little sister this outfit.

He sighed, dragging his feet on the short walk between rooms. The star felt a bit nervous presenting himself to Max so scantily clad. She’d seen him topless, but like he’d been thinking, this felt different.  

He stood outside Max’s room and asked, “Oi, you decent?” through the door.

“Yup.”

She was hanging out on her bed. She laid belly-down, her head towards the foot of the mattress and her arms slightly dangling off, with her DS in hand. Not having Halloween plans herself, but wanting to do something, she opted to just wear a fuzzy white cat ear headband with her otherwise unfestive black hoodie and light pink joggers. 

She was in the middle of something, so when Piers entered, she hadn’t looked up. She did greet him, though. 

“What’s up?”

“Need your opinion on my costume.”

“‘Kay, ooone sec,” she murmured. 

Piers admired how Max’s brows furrowed when she was feeling determined. He grinned when he noticed her headband, too. Cute.

He huffed out a near-silent laugh in tandem when Max’s misdreavus made itself visible and floated over to Piers, greeting him with its own set of cat ears equipped. 

He patted its head between the accessory. “Hey, missy.”

It chirped happily before leaving the room to hang out somewhere else in the apartment. Probably the couch, he assumed. That fella really loved a good sofa… or any sofa for that matter. Theirs was pretty beaten up.

Piers shut the door behind the creature. Curious as to what Max was doing while he waited, he was about to make his way towards her with the intention to watch over her shoulder; but right when he took his first step, Max closed the device with a triumphant huff and looked towards him.

Piers stopped in his tracks as he watched his friend smile at him while propping herself onto her elbows, and then drop that smile and widen her eyes as they raked up and down his body. 

Oh, does it look bad? he worried to himself.

Then, he noticed Max’s face grow pink. Her ears and what little of her neck he could see followed as her cheeks turned a deep red he wasn’t sure he’d seen on them before.

…That must be a good thing then, yeah? Probably?

“Erm.” She cleared her throat, fixing the heightened pitch of her voice — which was already pretty high-pitched, normally — before averting her eyes. After a beat she shyly met Piers’. Her gaze started to lower, as if on its own volition, but she rapidly snapped it back up to his face.

…Definitely, Piers concluded.

He flustered her.

This wasn’t one of those common instances where someone did something sweet or embarrassing to her, or where she did something sweet or embarrassing.

He put her in this state purely by looking the way he did.

And that felt fucking incredible to him.

Initially the realization had made him giddy. Then, as he registered that it could be absurdly fun to tease her about this — to tease her right now — his smile widened into something more mischievous. 

Max’s following compliment came out strained. She was fighting for her life to make herself look unaffected. 

(She was failing.)

“Looks good!”

Piers’ brows raised slightly as he flashed his fangs. “Y’think so?” 

“Ye— oooh,” she cut herself off with a whisper, noticing the prosthetics. She could practically feel herself short-circuiting as she tried to figure out what to say. Please stop staring at his teeth, please be normal about this, she begged herself before settling on, “Can you sing in those?”

“Eh…”

Piers looked up a little, tilting his head to either side while he weighed out whether it would be doable or not. While doing so, he began fidgeting the tip of his tongue against one of his pointed teeth. The simple movements of his mouth made Max gulp.

“Probably, but I might take ‘em out anyway.” 

“Hm.” Max slowly nodded, diverting her attention to the floorboards. She crossed her outstretched legs behind her, too. Something about shutting her thighs eased the tension growing between them.

Her overall reaction was all he needed to be way more confident in his attire. Cocky, even, just because it was Max. He cared more about her opinions of him than most other people’s. So, while she seemed to zone out, Piers quietly approached her bed, leaning his palms down onto the corner of it.

He wanted her attention. Wanted to see how many of her buttons he could push like this. He’d accepted his infatuation towards her by now, and to take advantage of the moment to see what kinds of reactions he could pull from her fueled his desires even further.

It made him feel a bit perverted, in a way. 

Was it perverted?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. It’s not like he was hurting her by having a little fun. He knew she’d speak up if he made her uncomfortable at any point. There was very little risk in messing around, and a high reward to be had.

Timidly, Max side-eyed Piers’ exposed form, bringing the collar of her hoodie to her chin — a makeshift hiding spot — before letting her head fully turn. Her heart stuttered at the intense look in Piers’ eyes. He was amused, clearly, given the faint smile that played on his lips while he gnawed the lower one, only one of his fangs visible; but more than that, he watched over her like a predator would its prey. 

He asked lowly, “You like it, then?”

God, yes— “Mhm,” Max nodded.

Piers noted the slight quiver in her breath, and swelling with pride, he continued, “How much?”

As the words came out, he gravitated to the foot of Max’s bed, slowly sinking onto his knees to meet her at eye level, no more than a foot away.

“Oh, um…”

Max looked down in an attempt to escape eye contact, only to realize she was openly staring at his torso. She honed in on his decorated hips for a short moment before blinking a few times, as if to wipe away her racing thoughts. She plastered her view onto his right arm.

“I… I don’t know.” She dropped her hold on her hoodie, then answered, “It’s a good look on you,” pulling a small section of hair over her shoulder to fidget with. As she twirled the brown and pink strands between her fingers, Piers noticed that her feet were kicking in place the slightest little bit.

“You sure? Seems like ya can’t even look at me while you say it,” he teased, lifting Max’s chin with his pointer and middle finger. 

She wanted to fucking die. To vanish from thin air and not have to deal with how pretty he was. How sexy he was. 

But there was no escape.

She could tell from his constant ghost of a smirk that he knew exactly what he was doing. Whether he simply enjoyed toying with her, or he knew he was absolutely melting her, she had no clue — whichever it was, though, it turned her on more than she could possibly begin to comprehend. 

Piers egged her on, her eyes widening a little as he leaned in closer, “I mean, I can tell you with full confidence that you make an adorable kitten.” He gestured his head towards her ears. 

Arc’s sake, please shut up, Max wanted to scold him, her heart threatening to beat its way out of her body. She wanted to close what little of a gap there was between them. To pounce on him. For him to do the same. Anything.  

“Well… I do mean it,” she answered once she was able to compose herself. “I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” Max admitted, with a breathy, nervous waver lingering in her voice.

Piers leaned forward again. “Why’s that?”

Max’s eyes flickered between Piers’ darkened eyes and his lips. “Don’t— erm, don’t you have to leave?”

He shook his head slightly. “I have plenty of time to grill ya if I want to.” His mouth formed into a toothy, meowth-like smile.

“Damn it,” she quietly laughed, looking down, now that Piers’ hold on her had slackened.

He promptly stole her back, tugging her view to his once more while he laughed with her. He thought she had such a pretty smile — especially when her face was so rosy. 

“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better…” he began to speculate as he nearly closed their gap. Their noses were just a few centimeters apart. Max seemed to be in a trance, her eyes following his mouth’s every move while it drew nearer. “I’d say it looks like you want me to kiss you or somethin’.”

Max’s eyes shot up to his while she nervously chewed the inside of her lip between her canines. She looked hopeful. Pleading. Desperate.  

Confident facade aside, Piers felt similarly. 

“…Do you want me to kiss you, Max?” Piers whispered. Despite the softness in its volume, his voice had an almost dangerous tone to it. 

It made Max gasp. She was putty in his hands.

Piers felt himself twitch in his pants at her barely-audible reaction. He wondered when else she’d ever make faces like these, when else she’d sigh such wistful little breaths. Simultaneously, she’d been wondering if this is the sort of demeanor he’d have in bed.

Unable to resist but feeling shy, she nodded the slightest bit. The motion would’ve been unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it.

Piers was on her before she could even register that he’d obliged, eagerly holding her face and smashing his lips against hers. Her surprise manifested in a whimper and filled her with embarrassment while it drove Piers mad with lust.

Max rested a hand atop one of his while she struggled to pull herself up into a kneel. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her as she maneuvered herself to be sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling on either side of Piers as she draped her arms around his neck. She rested one palm against the back of his head while the other gripped the fabric covering his opposite shoulder. 

Max wondered, as their lips and tongues ebbed and flowed, how such a simple costume could have made her so goddamn needy… and why did it seem to have the same effect on him? 

While Max was lost in thought and inebriated by Piers’ kisses, the man stood up, leaned his right palm onto the bed, and weaved his left fingers beneath Max’s loose mane to cup her nape. 

He encouraged her to lay back with nothing but the force of his lips, letting her decide whether or not to invite him closer. She subconsciously tightened her thighs against his hips as she complied, her body willing his to meet hers on its own volition; enticing his core towards hers as he hovered above her, his ponytail tickling her cheek and his breaths fanning her face each time their mouths unclasped. 

Max, knowing Piers could recreate his ponytail in an instant if he wanted to, tangled her fingers through the taught hair. She gripped onto it for dear life and leaned upward as if it would allow her to taste more of him, sighing into his mouth as he used his lips to pin her back down. 

Piers smiled against her, noting that she seemed to really like when he took control. It reminded him of a move he busted out during their first kiss, so he decided to recreate it. A little commemoration of sorts. He drifted his thumb to Max’s chin and — without warning, unlike last time — pulled her mouth open and held it there, leaving her powerless in terms of how long their tongues would be knotted together. 

Just like the first time, Max accidentally whined into his mouth. Just like the first time, Piers breathed out a laugh through his nose. He didn’t halt their connection this time, though, favoring twirling his tongue around hers over the prospect of teasing her. He did hum to express his satisfaction though.

If he heard correctly, Max whimpered again at his reaction, albeit near silently.

And he did hear correctly, but not for the reason he’d thought. Max definitely responded positively to his humming, but she was more so focused on the way he just took the reins and seemed to really enjoy it. She did too. Being teased, being bossed around a bit. Being at his will. All of it made her feel restless.

Max arched her back a little to be closer to Piers.

Piers gripped the curve of her hip and squeezed, firmly pressing his pelvis between her opened legs in tandem.

Max desperately tugged at Piers’ hair with one hand to pull him closer, and gently caressed his cheek with the other.

Piers bit Max’s lip, forgetting he had fangs equipped, and drew a little blood—

Oh. 

He pulled away and brought his hand to her cheek while he made sure she was okay.

She nodded. She kinda liked the pain. She didn’t tell him, but something about the hungry glint in her eye gave it away.

…Oooh!

Piers, with a smirk that met his eyes more than his lips, licked the blood away before stealing another open-mouthed kiss, and it was literally the hottest thing that had ever happened to Max.

This only lasted a few moments longer, both of them mourning the loss of each other’s lips the second they were apart. Still hovering over Max, Piers pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. 

Their chests heaved as they stared at the rotom. They both knew he needed to leave, but Piers heavily considered canceling the show in favor of spending the night snogging Max’s face off. 

Fuck it… I can be late.

Piers gently tossed the device aside, letting it float down on its own, and dove back down. Max happily went along with it for a short while before feeling guilty. 

Damn it.  

“Mm–” she hummed against him, cupping his cheeks to gently nudge him away. “You’ve gotta go, no?”

Piers, while staring at Max’s swollen lips as if they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen, sighed. “Don’t wanna.” He immediately dipped back down, a goofy grin curling his lips upward.

“What?” Max laughed, her nose scrunching up a bit as she stopped him from kissing her again. “I thought you loved Halloween shows specifically.” 

I love you more— “This is more fun.”

The sincerity in Piers’ voice, even if it was lighthearted and silly, had Max wanting him to cancel the show too. 

This was the perfect opportunity to poke fun at him, though. “Taking this whole incubus thing a bit seriously, no?” It wasn’t a complaint, but it had piqued her curiosity.

“Ha!” 

Max basked in Piers’ bright smile, feeling proud that she made him laugh, even if it wasn’t all that funny. Even if she always made him laugh.

Whatever. His laugh was cute and made her happy. That’s all that mattered.

Still grinning, Piers squinted at Max, readying an absolutely lethal blow. He nudged her nose with his, then let his lips ghost hers as he purred, “Why? Is it working?” 

Max, hypnotized, let her eyes drop to where their lips were nearly connected. She tilted her head up a tiny bit, but Piers pulled back, his smile widening. 

“Answer the question, love,” he taunted her before repeating the motions. “Am I seducing you?” He added a subtle nudge of his hips against her mid-sentence for emphasis. Max’s lip quivered as she swallowed back a moan before it could come out.

Max didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to lie, but there was no way in hell she was about to tell him how badly she yearned for him. 

Her silence spoke volumes. Piers, wanting to hit Max with one last razzle dazzle, kissed her again, letting his tongue lead the way after successfully propping her mouth open. It was sloppy, it was deep, it was so hot, and it snatched Max’s fucking soul out of her body — very in-character! — but it also ended way too soon for her liking.

Piers concluded darkly after a moment of silence, “Very good to know,” before standing upright. 

Half of him hoped his bulge wasn’t too noticeable.

Only half.

Max definitely saw something, but knew that if she lingered on it for too long, she’d be begging him to stay home, and to give up all restraint and rules and whatever, and to just fuck her senseless instead — so, she did her best to act like it wasn’t there.

“B-but I didn’t even answer you,” she weakly pointed out as Piers pulled out his messy ponytail, promptly fixing it back up into something tidier. 

“But you didn’t deny it,” he winked at her, “and that’s all the confirmation I need.” 

Satisfied with the havoc he’d wreaked, Piers grabbed his phone and made his way towards the door. 

“Huh?” Max squeaked.

Piers met her eyes over his shoulder. “Byeee,” he sang… And he decided on a whim to snipe her one last time. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

Max was speechless at the implications there as Piers shut the door behind himself. The man was now grinning like a doofus, knowing that he affected Max so immensely, even if it was just this once — at least to his knowledge.

He went into her room initially expecting an honest opinion, then to either hang out a little, or to work on improving his look. Maybe both, if she wanted to help. 

Instead, he was handed some confidence on a silver platter in the form of Max blushing and whimpering for him. Fidgeting because of him. Visibly yearning for him. 

He felt like a million bucks — like he was unstoppable. He was about to put on the best show of his career. He could just feel it.

Max, on the other hand, was stuck staring at the door, completely dumbfounded.

…What the fuck just happened?

[gatheredfates]

Hi! My name is Sea, and I have an unhealthy obsession with taking on large community projects! This is my Final Fantasy XIV Community Compendium, focusing on linking as many XIV writing/roleplaying discords, forums, events, free companies and resources as I can get my hands on. While the inspired by and predominately tailored for roleplayers, it should have something for anyone looking to engage creatively with the game in some capacity. ⭐

If you'd like to simply check out what the Compendium is all about and miss my waffling below, any of the links on this post will take you there — but this is a handy one! A reblog also goes a huge way to increase my reach and find communities/resources; you're also welcome to share this post with people not on Tumblr who might be looking for communities/resources or have something to add.

Why a compendium, Sea?

In my opinion, the way people engage with fandom and communities has changed. It was once extremely common for people to hop onto the XIV Roleplaying Forum or find people looking for contact on Tumblr, but most of these resources have shifted to Discord. While Discord is great for keeping a community when you have it, the isolation of these communities into hidden, secular spaces doesn’t do a lot to help people find them in the first place and creates an air of loneliness/disconnect for new players or people looking to find specific communities. I don’t believe that a person should necessarily be a part of x amount of servers to find the one that suits them, nor that all communities should necessarily be on Discord — or just plain hard to find. However, while this is currently the standard, I’d like to try and help these communities be fostered and seen in a place accessible to basically anyone with an internet connection. If one community has benefited from this document, then I have done my part.

This is my monthly drive to showcase the Compendium but find new things to add! A lot of the below is already on the document, but I split communities/resources into four distinct spaces:

Large-scale community discords such as the XIV Reddit Discord, Hunts, GPOSE promotions and broad-space roleplay servers that harbour a large number of people and are publicly available to all. These may not have an RP focus but will assist in other aspects of the game.

Free Company & community-focused servers. E.G. an Ishgardian Roleplay server whose mission is to foster a community for Ishgardian characters; an EU server created to help players struggling with timezones. This also includes event discords such as fight clubs, markets, cafes, etc.

Friend/casual servers that have a roleplay element but may be just a group of people looking to find others to hang out and do content with.

Miscellaneous. Likely to be less community servers and more resources such as lore compilations, how-to guides, gposing techniques, boosting blogs, etc. These may get their own dedicated section later.

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here, send me an ask with the relevant information contained on the Compendium, or join my Discord at SEAFLOOR (21+ only)!

Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. Again, all accessible on the document! 🪸

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads.

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include IC tabloid blogs used to generate RP.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

FAQ.

I want to put my community on the compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community on the compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it.

What resources/communities can I add if I'm not the owner of them?

Mutual consent is extremely important to me, so anything that isn't a large-scale community OR a publicly accessible resource must be endorsed by the owner/admin/moderators in order to be added to the compendium. I operate under the assumption that a resource posted to a public space (tumblr, googledocs, youtube, etc) is open to all. A large-scale community is one with a significant member count or openly advertises itself as being accessible to everyone for whatever purpose it serves. If in doubt, please get in touch with me. I'm happy to contact your community owners for you!

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, absolutely contact me about that.

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

[johannestevans]

Lots of new work, some comedy, and an upcoming pub quiz for Galway Pride!

Good evening!

You can get these updates direct to your email inbox here.

So much to cover this week. I have a bunch of event announcements and several media recs - just scroll down to the bottom if you just want my round-up of new works published.

First things first - I've started playing with some buttons on Zazzle, trialling some badge designs for when I'm selling books at conventions next year.

These, and a few other designs, are available on my Zazzle store now! They're obviously quite expensive for individual badges because it's a print-on-demand store, but I'm planning to experiment with some designs over the next year or so, with the hope of selling these sorts of pin badges (as well as stickers and so on) for cheaper later on.

Secondly, I did a comedy set at Ireland's Smallest Comedy Club last week, and I'm going to do another set at Basement Jokes, also here in Galway City, on the 17th of May. If you're up this end of Ireland, come along at 8pm! Basement Jokes is a free entry comedy club, and it's in the basement of The Cellar Bar. Here's the show info.

Thirdly, if you're not in Galway next week but you can make it down the week after, I'll be hosting a pub quiz to help fundraise for Galway Pride this year. There'll be a big quiz with a bunch of rounds, and there'll also be a raffle with prizes from local businesses - there'll be a few signed copies of Heart of Stone in with the other prizes. Quiz entry is €5 per person, and you can find the info here on EventBrite.

A few people have recently approached me about doing book clubs and so on, so I just wanted to state explicitly here that I'm more than happy to answer questions and chat on stream at queer or fantasy book clubs via Zoom or similar! If you're going to have Heart of Stone or any of my other work as your book club pick in Ireland, the North of England, or Bristol, depending on where you are, I might be able to come along in person and sign books and so on! You can reach out with that sort of enquiry at contact@johannestevans.com.

Media Recommendations

Maintenance Phase - Maintenance Phase is a great podcast that Lewis got me into, and I've been catching up on a bunch of their old episodes of recent - Maintenance Phase is put together by Aubrey Gordon and Michael Hobbes, and it's a podcast where they unpack common myths and outright lies told in the wellness and diet industries, especially common fatphobic rhetoric, bad science, and conartistry by fitspo and health "experts". They get so catty with unpacking this stuff and it's so cathartic to listen to, but it's all backed up with good, robust tear-downs of the shitty science behind a lot of what they're tearing apart. If you want to listen to just one episode to see how you feel, I would recommend, Is Being Fat Bad For You?, from 16/11/2021.

Yellowjackets (2021--) - Presumably everyone and their mother has been telling you already to check out Yellowjackets - let me just add to the cacophony of voices and say, absolutely, do it. It's got cannibalism, it's got lesbianism, it's got toxic codependency, it's got mental health issues out the wazoo, it's got all the trauma, it's got a breakdown of the effects of misogyny on young sports women in the 90s, it's got cults, it's got the wildest gore, it's got bears, it's got a classic plane, it's got everything! It's fucked up and it's pretty fucking harrowing, especially in the second series, but I'm very much enjoying it.

Lawn Dogs (1997, dir. John Duigan) - This is such a fun flick, and one that I think I related to a lot in regards to the childhood emotions depicted - this is about a young girl growing up in an isolated gated community and her friendship with a guy who mows lawns and is an outsider to that community. I really fucking dug it, I loved the fairy tale aesthetics contrasted with the miserable reality, loved the unpacking of class and gender feels, loved the trauma, love the particularly scathing depiction of emotional neglect. I did review it, and I also watched the same director's 1994 film, Sirens, which stars Hugh Grant. I was planning to go through Duigan's back catalogue and watch some more of his work, but I just want to forewarn that Thandiwe Newton has accused him of sexual abuse - this has obviously put me off going back through it and has tempered my feelings about the art to say the least. Obviously I believe Newton, and if you are going to watch Duigan's work, make sure to do it in a way that won't give him further payment or aplomb where you can.

For new releases, I watched The Pope's Exorcist (2023, dir. Julius Avery) and Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves (2023, dir. John Francis Daley & Jonatham M. Goldstein). These are obviously very different films, one a supernatural horror about an Italian exorcist on a silly little mopend and the other a fucking A++ adventurous romp of a DnD party on a disastrous and delightful campaign - I recommend them, glowingly and with love, in the same breath because both of them feel so completely sincere and earnest in their shameless love of their subject. There's no ironic self-effacement, there's no sarcasm about the plot from within the plot iself, there's no attempts to imply that the characters or the plot are above or superior to others in their genre. Everyone in these movies goes fucking ham, they camp it up, and it's absolutely glorious. I am so tired of Joss Whedon-esque quips about how shitty the tropes are while we're doing the trope - this sort of return to open sincerity is where it's at. I also watched Renfield (2023, dir. Chris McKay), which unfortunately is not nearly as good - I mention it because it's Nicholas Hoult and Nicholas Cage hamming it up as vampires, and there's some fun aesthetics even though the broader execution is unfortunately pretty shit.

I was in a mood for classic musicals this week, and so I went back and watched Fiddler on the Roof (1971, dir. Norman Jewison) which is obviously one of the best film musicals ever made, and also Guys and Dolls (1955, dir. Joseph L. Mankiewicz) and Hello, Dolly! (1969, dir. Gene Kelly). They're fun, silly films, and I'm planning to dive deeper and watch a few more old musicals if I can stay on this kick. If you're in the mood for classic movie M/F/M threesomes, there's obviously Cabaret (1972, dir. Bob Fosse) and Singin' in the Rain (1952, dir. Stephen Donen & Gene Kelly).

I've also been replaying Xenoblade Chronicles (2010) this week, and I really recommend it if you've never played it before! It's a gorgeous game with a beautiful soundtrack and some really fucked up themes around body horror, cannibalism, and war alongside the central fantastical plot, and I love it a lot. It's on a few platforms, but I'm playing the original on the Wii.

New Works Published

Firstly, for some Tumblr stuff, I had:

Some notes about casual sex and hook-ups as a disabled person, for which I would love if people do have resources to contribute!

I gave some advice about approaching the introduction of new characters, especially when coming from a background in fanfic.

And if you're doing Monstrous May, I put together some header images for use on your social medias!

Movie Review: Lawn Dogs (1997, dir. John Duigan)

I talked about this movie a bit in my media recs section, but this review is a more extensive dive into the film's themes, especially class, childhood neglect and isolation, queerness and going stealth, and the social dynamics at play in the film.

On Medium / / On Letterboxd

Erotic Short: Hypnotised

Monstrous May Day #3: Hypnotised - An assistant bartender is drawn in by a vampire.

1k, M/M, rated M. Some sexy hypnosis for the purposes of public blood drinking — no sex. An entry for Day #3 of #MonstrousMay.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Erotic Short: The Tentacle Beast

Monstrous May Challenge Day #5: The Tentacle Beast - A priest makes a pledge to his chapter's master. 

Cis M/tentacle beast. Just 600w, short and sweet! For the Monstrous May Challenge 2023.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Fantasy Short: The Many Deaths of Baldr the Undying

One of Odin’s record-keepers interviews the god Loki.

Here’s a big one! 13.6k, rated M for violence, featuring some Loki and Baldr, some Odin scheming off-screen. Lots of delving into and playing with the stories, but with an angel thrown in for flavour.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Fantasy Short: The Injured King

A king seeks out the healing services of a local witch.

Just a little 800w piece.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Fantasy/Romance Short: Paper Houses

A train conductor begins a relationship with a regular passenger.

7k, rated M, M/M. Some sweet autistic 4 autistic love and affection with a build to the relationship and some fantastical elements on the side. Adapted from a TweetFic.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Fantasy Short: Luca's Monster

Cute fiction short! A boy talks to the monster that keeps coming out from under his bed.

1.2k, rated G. Sweet fantasy piece. Adapted from a TweetFic.

On Medium / / On Patreon