#im so hyperfixated for this man is so stupid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enihk-writes · 1 year ago

Text

[dancing in the dark, in the pale moonlight]

pairing: baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader

summary: fuck that stupid ass job that almost cost you your relationship, am i right?

word count: 5.54k

[01] ║ [02]

content warning: an attempt at the reader's life // reader's injuries are gory (kinda) // mentions of someone (not the reader) being buried alive // misogyny as per the product of the era // reader talks a little on religion and the afterlife

author's note: i started writing this the moment i posted the other part because my brain was still working in high gear and all... i'll have to postpone my other baek cheon fic for a while,,, i wrote topics in that one that are a bit toooo heavy for me rn. i researched on fashion through the dynasties in china for like,, one short segment on the story. so anyways... if my guess is correct hwasan timeline is most likely inspired by the sui or tang dynasty during the 581-907 AD which means that the spirit here is going to be from the qin or han dynasty around 220 AD and most martial artists uniforms come from this era iirc. i feel like i might not actually use this research too closely,, but i had to put this in to tell yall about what i found lol...

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

═══════════════

by the time you arrived at the deserted manor, the clock had struck midnight. and in a few moments, the spirit or spirits behind all the bride murders would be making their appearance.

chief...

the vice-captain starts, uncharacteristically. they've always been on the quieter side, never really talking unless they were spoken to. you raise your eyebrows, curious about what got them to speak up.

chief, please be careful.

you smile softly, tussling the vice-captain's hair.

i will.

you look around for a moment. hm, looks like you'd have to put in your best effort tonight, as the oldest since these kids relied on you. with a flick of your hand, everyone on site dispersed to their assigned positions, waiting for their next orders.

you stood all alone outside of the bedroom, waiting patiently for the critters to grow quiet. animals, after all, are said to have a keen sense for things outside of the human realm.

finally, the long-awaited silence fell onto the empty courtyard and you slide open the doors to the room — stepping in carefully. your padded feet barely making a sound as you walk into the carpeted room. from where you stood, you could see the shadows cast by the sparse furniture under the dim moonlight. you hadn't decorated the place, not really seeing any need to.

click.

the doors to the bedroom had been slid shut. you fold your arms behind your back. the spirit should be here soon.

hehehe...

a tinkling laugh swept past behind you in the dark bedroom.

you grip the short blade hidden under your sleeves, honing your senses to pin down the other presence with you at that moment. it was harder than anything you've done before, were you dealing with something far bigger than what you were capable of?

no. you had to snap out of that thought. if not you, then who would get rid of this vicious entity? those kids were still too inexperienced, you shouldn't grow disheartened now.

sighing, you walk around the room, stopping by the open window, looking up at the moon hanging in the cloudless sky.

how peculiar, it seemed the longer you were staring at it, the heavier your eyelids felt. it was almost bewitching, looking at the moon, you wonder if it was a trick of your hearing or was the moon calling you to move closer towards it? and also —

wasn't the room growing awfully cold?

your body reacted faster than your mind did, the blade whistling as it cut through the air to slice at the shadow forming behind you.

an ear-piercing hiss came from the shapeless being, slowly backing away as its features took form in the body of a girl no older than sixteen. she clutched her neck, and though the cut was shallow, she certainly looked like she felt the pain from it.

how dare you cut me!

she yells and lunged at you, catching your neck in her hands as she pins you to the ground, the furniture around you clattering away from the impact. you were sure you could've heard a bone crack in you.

keugh...!

you felt the air leave your body, you tried to breathe but it was hard, with the way her hands pressed down on your throat. how was a dead spirit this strong? your fingers grip the blade tighter, cautiously getting it ready so she wouldn't see.

with a swift action, you stabbed into the girl's side and she retreated to the furthest corner of the room with an almost animalistic growl, all while glaring at you.

you throw the ripped veil off your head, the flowers falling off and your hair coming undone. you stood up, wincing at the dull throbbing in your head, your vision going blurry for a moment — curse your anaemia for acting up now of all times.

you crazy hag! i can't believe you fucking stabbed me!

okay, now that was just straight-up disrespectful.

hag?

oh, so the insane bride-killing ghost that died at sixteen years ago, even before you were born, wasn't the hag — but you were? you were the hag? where the hell was the justice in that, huh?

you roll your eyes and sigh. no, you shouldn't be swayed by your short temper, you shouldn't let the spirit find an opening to attack you. remember — you had to finish the job before the night ended and the spirit got away.

you walk towards the girl in large strides, arms raised above your head, ready to strike her down with the purification sword. you didn't want to think about how much worse it could get if a spirit that didn't know how strong it was found out about its strength. not leaving a trace of their presence after such a gruesome act? you shudder from the thought.

the girl begins to cry.

you tell yourself that this was all an act, but it was hard to convince yourself. especially when the spirit had curled herself into a ball, shaking in fear, her eyes peeking out from her arms to look at you like a scared little girl.

your movements falter.

that was a mistake.

a hazy, clawed hand unfurls from behind her and reached out to slash at your chest, right where your heart lay. you stagger backwards, the cut had been deep enough to have you cough up blood. as your open wounds stained your already red dress darker, the shadow lingered at your feet, seemingly trying to collect your blood.

you tried to move back but you weren't fast enough.

the girl lunges at you again, but this time, her spirit went straight for your core, in a final attempt to possess your body and finish you off, probably.

as you fought to stay conscious amidst the myriad of voices assaulting your mind, you think back to something your master told you in passing when you were still in training.

something about spirits and their last will?

silly girl, every spirit has a last will. and not everyone knows what to do with that will. their grief takes the form of vengeance and i can only hope you know what to do when you ever come across a restless soul like that.

═══════════════

you wake up facing a young village girl.

gasping, you stumble backwards and hit a hard surface. but, it was weird. well more accurately, it felt weird. you were sure you were in a wooden house, so the walls would be rougher, so why did it feel fuzzy?

wait. the girl didn't seem to see you.

you walk cautiously around her, looking at her features carefully. her skin was tan from the time she spent under the sun, it was a little uneven and spotty in some areas. she was just a teenager, and that was kind of expected. you follow her gaze and see that she had been looking at herself in the mirror.

you wave your hand in front of her eyes to get a reaction out of her. she didn't seem to notice.

you blew air to see if she would hear it, but not even a single strand of her hair budged.

defeated, you try to swing your arm and slap her back — only for your whole arm to phase through her body.

ah?

your mouth hung open in shock. your whole arm went through a person, have you truly died and become a spirit?

no. that wasn't it. you reason with yourself.

this was the ghost's doing, and she wasn't here with you right now. this scene unfolding before your eyes, could they be a clue on her, or were they a distraction to fool you?

a horse whinnies on the road outside the girl's window. a barrow wheel squeaks as it turns, the horse's feet clipping noisily on the pavement. you peek past the wooden panes, eyeing the passing residents. their clothes were all plain and coloured in dull or muted tones. the texture looked rough. this wasn't a well-off part of town.

you look at the village girl. her hair was slicked back and tied into a low bun. her clothes were a little worn and a little dirty at the hems. her hands and feet calloused from the years of hard labour.

小燕！

the voice of an older woman calls from another part of the house, wiping her hands on her apron, the girl fixed her appearance one last time before she scurries towards the direction of the voice, while you stayed behind in the room

xiao-yan? as in little sparrow?

my name is actually 春燕 (chūn yàn). my mother just likes to call me xiao-yan at home.

the ghost had been standing next to you, her voice still edged on hostility but was softer now, nonetheless.

your mother?

the person calling to me.

the ghost walks out of the room as you trailed behind, looking past to see the old woman sitting on a chair by the doorway. needle and thread in hand, patching at tattered clothes. her crows' feet settling deeply on her features.

my xiao-yan ah... please be careful on your way out... come home before dark okay? don't make me worry okay?

you worry too much ma.

the village girl, or rather, the human incarnation of the spirit next you chirped as she made her way out the door. you wondered what the spirit was trying to show you, was this her life story before she crossed the bridge into death?

you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to ask more questions. the spirit continued to narrate.

i forgot everything about my time alive, except for this one day.

a sigh.

everything went wrong all in this one day.

═══════════════

you blink your eyes slowly, now walking alongside the village girl and the spirit. to your left you could see the sprawling acres of farmland and the town bustling with life below. looking ahead and past the hanging branches stood a towering gate.

no one had to tell you that this was where the lord's family lived.

the girl was led to the main hall where the lord and lady of the house resided. you and the spirit followed closely behind, passing through the countless maids and attendants working around the compound, it was fascinating seeing how no one could see or sense either of you. two beings who were not a product of this era, your bloody clothes and the ghost's tattered ones, you both stood out like sore thumbs.

it was silent. muted, almost, in the main hall. the lord and lady sat side by side as their son stood by his mother, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.

do you know why we have called you here today?

the lord asks, gravely.

no, my lord.

the village girl shakes her head, confusion swirling in her eyes, as she sat on the ground, kneeling before the family.

the lady grows agitated, she leans forward in her chair, opening her mouth to spew a tirade of grievances when the young master of the house gently pushes his mother to lean back in her chair.

let me, dear mother.

the village girl feels her heart race from his smooth and velvety voice. she'd only ever heard about the young master through rumours and quick glimpses through the crowd, so to be this close to him, the other girls from the village would be shaking in envy. she quietly notes that he was much more stunning up close — she must be really lucky today.

perhaps she had been staring for too long because the young man had cleared his throat awkwardly.

miss, i assume you must have heard about my older brother?

she nods, remembering the procession from earlier that year.

yes, may the first young master rest in peace.

the room grows silent to pay their respects to the deceased.

the young man spoke up again.

we are worried for my brother in the afterlife. he died without ever getting wed. we don't really want him to be made fun of by other spirits in the afterlife you know?

the village girl grows confused. she wasn't sure what he was getting at. what has the marital status of a dead man have to do with her?

the fortune teller we consulted has calculated that you are the best marriage candidate for my oldest son. so we want you to get married to him as soon as possible. by tonight if time permits.

with her voice shrill from agitation, the lady of the house sits up, fist shaking in the village girl's face, unable to contain her anger at the young girl's supposed stupidity.

the village girl on the other hand, felt her jaw go slack, she tried not to let it hang open from the shock of her lady's words.

marriage? to a dead man?

she's heard of horror stories of young brides being buried together with their deceased husbands whom they had married before his life expired. but those were supposed to be just stories! not an actual practice... right?

miss, i don't know what you might be thinking. but i assure you that this marriage will not be as morbid as it sounds. take it as any other marriage ceremony, except without the groom. you just have to sign papers and be my brother's bride on official documents! after that, you and your family will be rewarded handsomely for the trouble. this won't take over a day!

sensing the village girl's worrying silence, the young master interjects quickly, wringing his hands trying to close this deal as soon as he can. the faster their family gets this done and over with, the faster his life can continue from this standstill. his thinking was truly like a businessman's.

hearing that her little contribution would be compensated generously, she didn't think twice before agreeing to the suspicious deal. if it was like that then, when she goes home with the money, her mother wouldn't have to work anymore.

well, if that's the case, let's start the preparations now. the faster we get this done, the faster we can all go on with our lives.

the lord finally spoke up and with a clap of his hands, the room was filled with attendants, most of them surrounding the confused village girl. helping her to her feet in hushed tones, taking her away to presumably prepare for the ceremony that night.

the spirit follows the crowd and you hesitate following behind. the whole exchange felt off to you. surely, if you stayed here the family might let something slip, something that would prove your suspicions.

though you didn't have much choice in this matter. the features of the people in the room began to melt and drip, the scene morphing rapidly to the next part of the spirit's memory.

that's right, you had forgotten again. everything you saw was from the spirit's perspective. anything else beyond that was all up to one's imagination. was there really nothing you could do?

you hated this feeling.

this feeling of knowing something is going to go wrong, yet being so powerless to stop it from happening.

═══════════════

imagine having to sit in a tight space with a spirit, and a memory fragment who doesn't know you and the spirit exists. there was only that much space in the palanquin, and your knees touched the spirit's even when you were hugging them to your chest.

sorry about the space...

you try to start a conversation. but the other just wasn't interested, opting to stare at the image of herself — the village girl sitting across the both of you in this tiny palanquin. you look around the boxed space, noting the shoddy workmanship. looks like those nobles were really in a rush to get this done and over with.

the wind picks up and the curtains flutter upwards.

the night scenery was beautiful but—

this isn't the way to the lord's house?

the village girl mutters. and you had begun to think the same. sitting up with your senses heightened, you try to make out where the attendants were taking the girl. the spirit continued to remain unfazed.

something bad was about to happen. wasn't it?

the movements stopped abruptly, and you felt the palanquin being set down on the ground. the curtain slides open, a slender hand reaches out to guide the village girl sitting inside.

don't take his hand...

you try to tell the girl, you didn't like the heavy smell of incense and dirt surrounding the area. but of course, you were nothing more than a spectator to this whole ordeal.

you watch on helplessly next to the spirit as two footmen threw the village girl into the freshly dug-up pit. the fortune teller circles the pit, tossing water into the hole as she chants mantras of matrimony. all while the village girl calls for help, begging tearfully for mercy and her life. the overwhelming feelings of her fear washing over you again and again, knocking the air out of your lungs at each crashing wave, your heart squeezing tightly in your chest.

it seemed as though this just wouldn't end, as you watched the dirt fill up the hole and the poor girl's voice grow tired and hoarse, the pain grew from your heart to the tips of your fingers and dropped down to your stomach, swinging up and down like a pendulum continuously, making you even more nauseous than you already were.

but finally.

finally, the ordeal stopped. the sensations you felt lifting and leaving your body in a heated mass. everyone stayed silent at that moment, letting the sins of what had occurred sink into them. no one spoke, no one dared breathe a sound under the moonlight, lest the spirit of the village girl heard them.

there was shuffling and low greetings of reverence left the people's lips as they all stepped aside for a hunched-over man in heavy white robes to make his way to the edge of the covered-up pit. you could tell from where you were knelt over in pain that he was an exorcist similar to you.

he mummers prayers and covers the ground in talismans written in red ink, bells shaking with each step he took. binding chains reaching up from the scattered talismans to wrap around the spirit taking shape above them. poor girl, even in death, she wasn't allowed to rest in peace.

═══════════════

you blink, wincing at the bright sun shining into your eyes.

the spirit stands next to you, chains holding her down on the ground. you didn't have to look to see that you were both above her grave.

i was so stupid, believing all those lies. my mother collapsed when she heard about what happened to me. she couldn't pay for the house and she eventually died in an alley without anyone finding her corpse until days later when rats had already gotten to her. maybe if they had given her that money they promised to me, i wouldn't have been as angry about dying like this.

the spirit clenched her fists, teeth gnashing together in rage.

as if burying me alive wasn't enough, they called a fucking exorcist to cleanse this area, all because they were scared i would come and bite back at them for doing this to me.

the spirit's voice grows more irritated.

it's not fair! it's not fair! why do they get to die and move on to the afterlife? why did they get to continue to live their lives like my blood isn't on their hands? why did they get to have a happy marriage, a healthy baby watch their children and their children's children grow up to have their own families like my life was just... was just...

the spirit, no — chun-yan, began to cry, her back heaving as her sorrowful wails pierced your heart. she was just a girl. she was just a little girl barely on the cusp of adulthood. how could anyone be this cruel to her? how could the heavens let this happen?

you reach out to hold her in your arms, letting her cry her dead little heart out.

you wished things could be better for her. you truly did, however, what about all the innocent lives she had taken in vengeance? she still has to atone for that action.

it was abit of a shot in the dark, she didn't tell you nor did her memories reveal anything to you. but to free her spirit, you had to fulfil a wish of hers, this was the one and only shot that you had with this. if you got it wrong, you might have to go through a harsher method of exorcism. you hoped it wouldn't go to that stage.

yan-ah.

the girl sniffles.

chun-yan.

hm?

she asks you her eyes watery and tired.

is this the wish you had while you were dying?

you ask, throwing over the red veil slightly tattered at the edges, somehow still in your possession. you smooth the crinkles over the girl's head like an older sister would on her younger sister's big day.

═══════════════

the memory was collapsing.

you look around the dark space around you, taking a while to register that you were back in the bedroom where this whole thing first began. you lean back with a sigh, your head was starting to spin, you were sure that by tomorrow, you would be down with a fever.

chun-yan stood up, making her way to the vanity with a mirror at the other end of the room. she looks at herself for a long time in the mirror. a strong gust of wind blows through the open windows, toppling the remaining standing furniture. the curtains billowed in the currents, hiding chun-yan behind them.

your worries subsided when the winds died down and brought down the curtains with them, revealing chun-yan now dressed in proper wedding attire. a clean and crisp red veil, a long and thick wedding dress made of red silk with golden decorations embroidered into the fabric. the girl's hair was done up in two half buns with fresh peonies and flower buds woven into the thick tresses.

you bite back from making any noise. your heart swelled with a bittersweet feeling. you wished chun-yan's mother, the little old lady who you've only caught a glimpse of, could see her beloved daughter like this too. you rub your nose, sniffling.

...it suits you well.

chun-yan looks longingly at the moon, and then turns her gaze towards you. fidgeting, she asks quietly.

am i going to hell now?

yeah. you are.

your shoulders drop and you look at her sadly. you wished you could give her good news. you wished the world to be more fair, but you weren't god. you were merely someone who built bridges for spirits to cross over to the afterlife, in the end.

because i killed all those people... right?

you nod.

is it going to be scary?

probably.

chun-yan fiddles with her thumbs, picking on her nails.

mother always told me that bad people go to hell. and i became a bad person that's why i'm going there... right?

chun-yan... listen.

you ponder for a moment, you didn't really want to send her off with this heavy feeling.

sometimes, good people also go to hell. and it's because these good people made a mistake... and then another... and then another without stopping or thinking about stopping. and when they realise that they have been doing all these terrible things, they feel bad and if they are willing to atone, i think they should be allowed that chance to change...

you pause.

chun-yan... remember that you are going to hell to repent for the lives you have taken wrongfully. it's not because you were always meant to go there... i think. i hope that's not the case.

what did you want to say, what were you trying to say?

you weren't sure but, you wanted to ease the girl's burden a little.

hm.

chun-yan hummed. taking in your words. it seemed like she had understood something you hadn't. but whatever it was, it must have comforted her.

she stood still, flames growing at her feet. she didn't move or wince from them, letting it grow bigger and engulf her in it. as she disappeared along with the hellfire, she gave you a nod, perhaps as thanks for keeping her memories in your heart. you bow your head in reply, keeping it down until the crackle of the blaze grew quiet.

═══════════════

chief!

good god, who was it yelling so loudly in the morning?

chiiiieeeeffff!

heavens, were they crying? why are they crying like you were dead?

chief... don't die...

even your calm and collected vice-captain? now what was going on?

you try to sit up. emphasis on try, because for some reason you had been swaddled in layers upon layers of bandages. the smell of herbs crushed and rubbed onto your wounds and bruises was overpowering. to put it lightly.

ugh. what's going on.

chief!

the chief is awake!

you're still alive... huhuhuuuuuuu...

a chorus of ecstatic shouting and sobs was heard across the crowd gathered around you. judging by the voices, your best guess was that everyone there was the kids in your unit. seeing how happy they were, you must have passed out after the events of last night. truthfully, you barely remembered stumbling past the doors of the bedroom and into the vice-captain's arms.

all's well, ends well.

now, if the emperor would be so kind to give you a month—

no. a year, off work... you think you would be his biggest supporter. hell, you might even work for free.

but that aside, you think there might just be something you were forgetting right now.

═══════════════

baek cheon had volunteered to keep watch for that night. he barely slept since he came across you in that wedding attire. he was trying not to cry, but he's sure the junior brother sleeping across him must have heard him tossing and turning and borderline sobbing.

it was a little embarrassing to face everyone in the morning with his eyes puffy and face swollen. thank god chung myung wasn't with them this time, or baek cheon would have never heard the end of it.

he sits on a rock further away from where everyone else had set up camp. they were next to a stream, the sloshing of the water and the cackle of the firewood breaking apart soothed his senses. he thinks back to the times he had spent with you when the moon hung high in the sky just like this.

he sighs, leaning back against a tree with arms crossed — his fingers gripping his sleeves as he thinks again about the encounter with you the other night. you looked so pretty in a wedding dress, was he being too delusional when he dreamt about a future where you were wearing that for your marriage to him?

he sulks by himself, feeling jealous of the person he made up in his head, the person that he was sure you were going off to get married to.

he thinks the guy would be a little closer to your height, so that it made sharing kisses easier. the guy might have nicer hair, fluffier and maybe a little matted so you'd have a reason to run your fingers through it. your husband-to-be might have a more childish personality, much like yours so that the both of you would be on the same wavelength. he thinks the guy might also be mature enough, like you were so that you and him would ground each other. the other guy might have nicer skin that was soft and smooth and unblemished. his eyes would be fierce but gentle all at once, the shape of his eyebrows would be thick in a single stroke...

he realised the image of the guy was looking a little too much like chung myung.

tsk. that's no good, he was starting to get even more pissed off and upset.

cheon-ah!

this was no good. he was starting to hear things because of how much he missed you.

cheon-ah!

how was it that he could replicate the sound of your voice in his mind? truly, the yearning of a man in love was so fascinating.

cheon-ah!

baek cheon wonders if he was going crazy for thinking the voice was growing closer to him. poor guy didn't even get the chance to look over before he felt the full weight of somebody colliding with him. his arms instinctively wrapped around the other's waist, his body recognising that it was you faster than his mind would.

you're here?

he asks, bewildered.

baek cheon couldn't wrap his head around how you got to him so quickly. did you really abandon your husband-to-be at the altar like that? for him?

listen to me baek cheon.

the man nods mindlessly, revelling in the warmth of your being so close to his — he was barely listening, let alone registering what you were saying right now.

maybe he should steal in a kiss.

his hand find its way to the back of your head, pushing you down to have your lips meet his. whatever you had been rattling on about died in your throat, muffled sounds of shock morphed into soft sighs. you pull away, moving to sit more comfortably on his lap, legs swinging on either side, straddling him.

holding back a laugh, your arms circle around him, pulling him closer. he hadn't heard a thing you said from having his head up in his own clouds. what were you going to do with this man?

cheon-ah... did you hear what i was saying?

you ask, peppering kisses on his cheek, brushing his hair out of his eyes. baek cheon shakes his head, still very much starstruck.

tsk, tsk...

you tut disapprovingly, pinching his nose, breaking him out of whatever fantasy he was deep into. he looks at you, wide-eyed and a little offended by your gesture. he sulks when he meets your unimpressed stare.

i'm sorry... i'll listen well this time...

he whines quietly. not wanting to lose you to some other man again.

the other night, when you saw me in the wedding dress... it was for an assignment... you ran off before i could tell you about it... my poor baek cheon, tell me you didn't lose sleep over that?

his eyes widen.

an assignment? so... you weren't getting married for real?

the melancholy settling in his bones lifted instantly, his gloomy expression brightened, and his eyes started to sparkle. he didn't care about acting borderline pathetic these past few hours, you weren't getting married to someone else! and that was all that mattered to him right now.

what's going on in that pretty head of yours?

nothing... i... i'm just so happy that i still have a chance...

he mutters the last part of the sentence, hoping that you wouldn't hear it. but you did, of course you did. he can't have let the nature of your occupation slip from his mind now, has he? your squeal of excitement reached his ears, barely registering the flurry of kisses you were raining down all over his face.

cheon-ah! you like me enough to want to marry me? ah! my lovely baek cheon, hehehehe...

you were acting a little strange, he noted. were you ever this affectionate? what's going on?

he catches a whiff of the herbs slathered under your bandages, your forehead brushing past his cheek felt hot in the feverish sense. one closer look at you and he could see your eyes glossing over along with the sniffling you had been trying to hide.

no way... was the great inspector... sick?

you whine, throwing your head back as baek cheon desperately tries to catch you from falling head-first on the rocks. your temperature was rising and your head had begun to spin. no wonder it did, after all, you did run out of the room you were to carry out your bedrest in — without any food in your stomach or any breaks from what happened with the exorcism last night.

you just knew you had to clear things up with baek cheon, the feeling of leaving the misunderstandings in the air, weighing at the back of your mind consistently.

ugh. it was embarrassing to have him see you in this out-of-character state. maybe when you got better, you will have to meet up with him again to talk about your relationship more seriously.

for now though, you just needed him to know how much you liked him back. and that you weren't going to get married to someone else anytime soon.

baek cheon though?

he's going to have to worry about how to explain why you were here to his martial brothers, and also bring you back to your unit somehow. but that was none of your concern, was it? you were already knocked out from the fever catching up to your body.

#enihkwrites #return of the mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #return of mount hua #baek cheon #baek chun #rotbb #rotmhs #baek cheon x reader #baek chun x reader #return of the blossoming blade x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #3rd ish last fic #im clearing out the hwasan ones i have because i drafted 2 for another webtoon lol.... my hyperfixations move fast #i saw an artist call baek cheon the neighborhood idiot #havent stopped thinking about it since #my beloved #my ideal man is a stupid himbo with nothing going on up there just vibes and prayers and yearning #ugh the end is so sappy i had to take breaks to throw up

29 notes · View notes

kkatastrophic · 3 months ago

Text

hyperfixations from 2022 - 24 go brrr

#Its always “Stop caring what others think” “stop judging people” Until you hear what they say or until you have nerdy interests #People #I had all those stickers and figures etc in my wardrobe for a full year because I was ashamed #But I'm trying not to judge myself or feel ashamed at my interests #And it's hard but this is the first step? Idk man #Anyways what im trying to say is who cares if your interests are cringe or silly or nerdy #People who judge that are stupid #And you should follow your passion #The only reason I'm still drawing is because I want to make danganronpa fanart (not even joking)#So yeah #Layer your sketchbooks with stickers #Hyperfixate on silly things :3 #nerd cat rambles

2 notes · View notes

abstractpenny · 3 months ago

Text

guys, guys, guys, don't you love shaking around your little guy in your head so hard all day you probably got brain damage, but at least now you have a thousand new plots for them to follow

#uh so #kai #kai ninjago #the little lego boy #yeah #i typed almost ten thousand word in a haze today #its the rough draft #of a oneshot #and its not even halfway done yet #this man #he has my whole brain right now #i will go feral over him #correction:#i have in fact already gone feral over him #like #gimme your pathetic man who ends up being an amazing father figure and mentor to multiple children #gimme him #and his stupid mental illnesses #and maybe probably alcoholism #(not to glamourize alcoholism at all. like. i know multiple people that i care about that are deeply alcoholic)#(its a copic mechanism okay)#(also. he was absolutely drinking after season 3. dont lie. we all know it.)#uh yeah. kai ninjago the lego boy has overtaken my brain.#fictional characters #hyperfixation #im hyperfixating again #lego ninjago #writing problems #fanfic writing #writing things

5 notes · View notes

hydrxnessa · 4 months ago

Text

i was just simply drawing trojan in the room and a relative saw and wandered up to me, saying waaooww ur so talented

and proceeded to give me 1000 pesos (~£15) i cannot be making this up

#im so embarrassedd #i canNOT have my relatives know i've been hyperfixating on this stupid man for over a year #drawing in the philippines feels like playing fnaf tbh #sharp teef talks

6 notes · View notes

phagodyke · 1 year ago

Text

i keep getting irrationally miffed at ppl 😐😐

#'impressed by how much u can talk abt this considering youve not played either game'#fuck off. as if im not just trying to show interest bc u + another friend are both into them + constantly talk abt them in our gc!!#i mean since u guys talk abt them all the time + theyre huge on tumblr like. it would be hard for me to not know anything abt them at all #literally what else can i talk to u guys abt anyway. i dont think there are any interests i personally have that they both gaf abt #if anything they actively dislike most of the things im hyperfixated on. or at least she does so like i cant bring that up can i.#all i did was share a post i saw on tumblr that i thought was funny. its not like i had some negative/controversial opinion #i just saw it and thought hey that makes me think of my friends bc they like those things maybe theyll find it funny too!!#dog sitting outside the door with rly big sad eyes offering them a stick i found in a puddle #i like listening to them talk and i will eventually play some of the games theyre into myself cuz they make them sound rly cool #and even if theyre not my kind of thing i like sharing interests with other ppl and sometimes thats enough for me to be able to enjoy it #i literally own some of them already but im just not in the mental space to start smth new right now. which i have SAID!!!!#why do u even care girl. as if u dont already have a ton of friends playing it that ur talking to abt it???? i wont have anything to add #and thats not gonna stop u from being able to talk to me abt it anyway????? like 2/3 of our conversations atm are abt bg3 #man. i know its not that deep but it makes me kinda sad for some reason. im just trying. i guess next time ill just let u guys talk-#to each other or at me and not comment or say anything so u can pretend im not here or whatever it is u want #ughh. she probably didnt even mean it like that and ill feel stupid for getting annoyed and delete this later but whatever.#might work out early today and then i can like draw or play a game or smth the rest of the day. alright lets go #.vent #listening to my silly little jfunk/jazz/soul playlist and i already feel over it. healing

3 notes · View notes

the-mpreg-guy · 3 months ago

Text

i know we made fun of star trek aos for the lens flares and shit but im rewatching 2009 and tbh its so refreshing to watch a movie that isnt so dark i cant see a single fucking thing, but reverse problem: its so fucking bright you cant see anything

#i love these movies so much oh my god #im feeling the star trek hyperfixation hit again #so what if i want a stupid blonde man carnally shut up

0 notes

motherforthefamicom · 2 years ago

Note

Also WELCOME BACK!!!!!!!! So nice to have you back bro how’ve you been?? :3

thank you =D uh ive been fine i guess? schools been kicking my ass but otherwise nothing too crazys been going on lately

#was really hyperfixated on minecraft for a good while i cant remembrr if i really mentioned that before #its kinda faded rn but like i was playing so much my hands were hurting constantly and then i wold just switch to playijg on console with #my sister after a while. which would just make my hands hurt more.#also weve been rewatching h2o just add water together no real reason we just thought itd be funny (were literally watching it rn actually #i hadnt watched it in Forever and barely remembered anything in it so its been fun poking fun at it n stuff #also ive been drawing just for myself a lot mor lately! it feels really refreshing #and also just drawing stupid silly shit. not so much in the ‘haha funny meme redraw’ way its more like.. stupid little scenerios and #just drawing characters hanging out and whatever. its nice i missed doing that kinda stuff #okay im rambling uhhh yeah 👍 hope youre doing good man =)#ask #sillyfunny

0 notes

crappyyuki · 1 month ago

Text

LEGO NINJAGO LES GOOOOOOO :DDDDD

Dragons Rising is so GOOD. MY FIRE BOI FINALLY HAS THE SPOTLIGHT HE DESERVES! WOOOHOOOOO!!!

I love this fiery lego man so much. For being out to the side after season 7, which is probs like 7 years or smth don't quote me on that, he finally gets to shine :,)

Kai Smith as main character is my Roman Empire omg.

Like I'm more of a blue type of person (looks at 2012!Leo, Knb!Kasamatsu, Nightwing, possibly Sonic) but this fire man captured my heart when I was like 9 or smth. HE IS SUCH A BIG BROTHER I LOVE HIM.

(Can you tell that's my favorite trope?)

Spoilers? Maybe? Just in case.

Anyway. Go watch it. Its on Netflix. Idk if its just me but I'm pretty sure I haven't watched S1P2 because Netflix doesn't have it but ITS OKAY CUZ I HAVE CLIPS WITH KAI AND WYLDFYRE I SAW EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW I LOVE THEM SO MUCH DAD KAI DAD KAI DAD KAI—

If you wanna see Kai content, Dragons Rising delivers like mwah, chefs kiss.

FIRE BREATHING DRAGONS OMGOMGOMG HE IS SUCH A DRAGON THATS WHY HE GETS CLOSE TO DRAGONS IMMEDIATELY HE LEARNED RISING DRAGON FIRST IM SO PROUD I FEEL LIKE A PARENT HOLY CHALUPA.

JUSTICE FOR FIRE MAN!

I fucking hope he'll still be relevant in S3. If he isn't, I'm killing everyone. Kai deserves his own season dammit!

I'm such a starved Kai fan lmao.

Love the other characters too. But. Kai. I have been stuck in the Sahara Desert Nether Space desolate of Kai content for YEARS let me HAVE THIS!

Go watch. Please. PLEASE OH MY GOD GO WATCH I NEED SOMEONE WITH ME TO HYPERFIXATE ON THIS STUPID LEGO MAN.

HE IS SO BADASS BUT SO DUMB AND WARM AND PATIENT AND SOFT AND FIRE AND COLD AND ANGY AND TOUGH OMG—

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago kai #ninjago kai smith #ninjago kai jiang #?#ninjago kai jiang smith #yes #fire man #red ninja #my fav red fire man #go watch #justiceforfireman #love him so much #love him so bad #i am starved for kai content #im so proud of him #big brother for life

150 notes · View notes

howlsofbloodhounds · 1 month ago

Note

Can you talk more about the fandom's ableism with Ink and Killer??im quite curious!/gen (reference to your reblog tags)

I can try, but know im not an expert and also bigger knowledgeable inks fans are welcome to chime in.

So we all know how Ink is soulless, yes? It is because of this that people take it as an excuse to demonize them and make them evil, fake, manipulative, abusive, a bad parent, a rapist—everything under the sun simply because he’s soulless, lacks empathy.

Some people claim he doesn’t feel emotions because of his soullessness all the time and the paint vials he takes are just “fake emotions,” but in actuality Ink needs those paints to function (because without them Ink becomes an unmoving husk and this makes him extremely vulnerable to being used and taken advantage of), and to feel. It’s basically medication that he needs.

Not to mention; Ink is clearly a neurodivergent character, having hyperfixations and everything. This breeds depictions of “Ink is so stupid,” “Ink is a child,” “Ink needs to be leashed and treated like an animal,” “everyone is tired of and hates ink because ink is annoying.”

You see this type of thing with Killer a lot too in his fanon depictions, and this is because it’s a pretty agreed upon headcanon that Killer has ADHD; it’s just that most people clearly don’t do any research into how Ink and Killer’s ADHD/Autism are disorders, how they actually impact them as characters and their lives rather then how they annoy and inconvenience everyone else around them, infantilize and dehumanize them by treating them like hyperactive idiotic children or animals that need to be kept on a leash—is stereotypical depictions of ADHD with the typical “hyperactive talking a lot so annoying oh my god can you just shut up?” and “can’t ever stop moving or talking” and just generally have other characters be ableist and abusive as fuck towards them both and play it off as if it’s supposed to be funny to be talked to like that just because something they have no control over was a little annoying today.

there’s no discussions or depictions how this stuff effects either of them. Killer already has a dissociative disorder and CPTSD and can’t trust his own memory, and Ink has short term memory loss so bad he needs to write things down on their scarf just to keep track of it, and yet Killer’s memory issues are completely ignored because he has to be the silly haha comedy relief that all the characters use as their punching bag and Ink’s is only ever brought up in any serious capacity to paint them as a bad parent who would forget that his children even exists.

Killer and Ink are both characters with little to no empathy for others; and this is used to demonize them, or is completely ignored by giving Ink a soul or and forcing Killer into Stage 1 as their quick fixes.

Their lack of empathy and emotionlessness is only ever brought up to use them as villains in another character’s story; which is extra fucked up when people refuse to acknowledge that Killer is a canonical victim of literal conditioning, abuse, torture, kidnapping, and literal fucking trafficking.

People are demonizing someone who is literally trapped in a trafficking ring and being sent out as weapon of terrorism by Nightmare under threat of torture, death, and replacement all because, oh. He’s emotionless. He’s sadistic. He doesn’t act like a perfect victim curling up in a ball crying from guilt every single day and why doesn’t he just say no?

Killer isn’t perfect but people like to pretend he has more control and power than he does and like he actually wants this when the man doesn’t even know what he wants because he became who he needed to be to survive. People seem dumbfounded by the concept that victims will mirror their abusers to survive and that obviously won’t make them good people, but killer doesn’t consider himself people.

It’s never brought up how Ink’s memory loss and his lack of paints making him a husk would make him very easily to abuse and use and lie to and manipulate and take advantage. It’s never brought up how Ink thinks and feels about upsetting or losing friends because he forgot their names, or their birthdays, or when they were meeting up and where, and no matter how hard he tries things just keep slipping from his mind.

It’s never brought up how Stage 2’s indifference and overwhelming apathy and dehumanizing view of himself (and others, just like Ink, who sees others as characters in a story whereas Killer sees people more like codes programmed to follow specific scripts and roles in a long series of games and tests and just not real), means he is a lot more likely to be used and abused and taken advantage of—and yes, raped, because for some reason people really really love making Killer a sexual predator as if he’s not the one most likely to be abused in that manner—means he’d likely just accept whatever someone does to him (especially if he believes they’re stronger than him) because why should he care? Nothing matters anyway. There’s no point in resisting, why bother. This is how it was always supposed to end, and nothing is real anyway. This doesn’t affect me, i don’t have emotions, im not real. I’m not a person.

The only form of control Killer would have is playing along. Acting, pretending he enjoys it and is having fun—but ultimately, he doesn’t know if he does or not. Where does he begin and the act end. He doesn’t know, but if everyone around him is telling him one thing, then it must be true.

Stage 2 wouldn’t see himself as a victim or anything that happened to him as anything particularly significant. Nightmare asks him to do something and he does it because why not is what he thinks—it’s just how it works, Nightmares stronger. He ignores what would happen if he drug his feet or attempted to refuse because to him it’s just logical that he’d be punished for that, and he likes pain anyway, so enjoying means he must’ve wanted it.

(Does this justify the people he hurts when commanded to, triggered to, provoked, or when his dehumanization of others and conditioning leads him to do pretty awful abusive shit to them out of sadism or curiosity or just needing to feel in control? No, of course not. Any of his victims are allowed to hate him or feel however they want about him.

Doesn’t mean we have to ignore that he’s also a victim and has even less control than he allows others to see or know about, and that he himself likely refuses to acknowledge or look at too deeply.)

Which is another thing a lot of people use to justify Nightmare’s abuse of Killer. That he’s masochistic and sometimes pushes and provokes Nightmare into hurting him—the idea that it’s not actually abuse because he “wanted it” and “liked it” or that he’s somehow as bad as Nightmare because “he provoked him.”

He cannot access the emotions and trauma and fear and moral concerns and safety concerns of his other Stages because that is the entire point of his dissociative disorder and his conditioning. This makes him easy to control and this how he’s survived and remained even somewhat functioning.

Not to mention. The idea that Ink and Killer need to “learn empathy” or “learn emotions” to be better or good people, and not because being in touch with emotions is an important thing everyone should learn especially victims of abuse and those with trauma and that having little to no empathy is not some moral failing on their end or says something about the type of people they are. It just means they struggle to relate to others, understand their emotions, or feel others emotions as if it were their own.

There’s also the matter of some people trying to say that because Ink is soulless he is AroAce. That is not true, is both aro/aphobic and ableist. Ink is both soulless and AroAce and these are two completely separate things—they’d still be AroAce even if they had a soul.

There’s probably a whole lot more that can be said about this, but I’ll end it right here. Others can add on or correct me.

104 notes · View notes

venomhound · 3 months ago

Text

Hazbin Hotel - Handkerchief Headcanons

The rat in my brain was overclocking on its wheel about the Hazbin guys and their potential handkerchiefs after watching some historical romance. Then I had the existential realization that I am probably the singular cancerous overlap between Hazbin Hotel and actual historical fiction. So I have to do these myself I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(also huge thanks to @heart-of-the-morningstar for beta reading the Lucifer section; I love you boo-boo, MWUAH)

Hyperfixated rant pretending to be a history lesson and headcanons below the cut -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

*gently taps pointer on desk then smashes it against whiteboard*

HERE IS A HISTORY LESSON FOR YOU NERDS ABOUT HANDKERCHIEFS AND HANDKERCHIEF FLIRTING.

First off, I need to say I AM NOT talking about the Handkerchief Code. This is a form of LGBTQ+ signaling that many falsely say started in the 1970s (thats just when it first became 'mainstream', its much MUCH older then that).

Handkerchiefs have been used for flirting for literal centuries. There is so much history to them that I cannot possibly hope to cover. The Victorians even had an entire body language system dedicated to them. These are basically just historical highlights or things specifically related to this post.

Alright. So before the 1960s (when handkerchiefs finally went out of style) EVERYONE had one. Disposable tissues weren't even invented until 1924!

Needless to say, pre 1920s, open flirting (especially by a woman) was frowned upon. So handkerchiefs became a main method of doing so.

Im sure yall have seen the infamous 'lady dropping her handkerchief in front of a guy she likes' move in movies or tv. This is because a woman used to not be allowed to talk to a man she was not introduced to first. So by dropping her handkerchief in front of a guy she wants to talk to, this gives the guy an opening to pick up the handkerchief, give it back to her, and introduce himself. Thereby making them acquainted.

Because everyone had a goddamn handkerchief, if a woman is crying, as a man, you would only offer her your own handkerchief if your courting her, her lover, or actually related to her. Otherwise you would just say 'dry your tears' because she got her own stupid handkerchief. If you were none of those things and still gave a woman your handkerchief, WOOF, that was forward of you. You just did the Victorian equivalent of an unsolicited dick pic.

Lovers would often exchange handkerchiefs as tokens. Usually with their names or initials embroidered on the handkerchief. Men would openly wear these, usually tucked into a pocket or hat brim, with the initials showing as a way of bragging about their lady.

Although there are stories of womanizers who would have entire hat brims stuffed with a rainbow of handkerchiefs as a way of bragging about their conquests (and all the broken hearts they left behind).

Friends would also sometimes exchange handkerchiefs but this was really only in specific circumstances and I don't want to get into the weeds on that. Just keep in mind that it CAN be a friendship thing too.

Also for long distance couples (or just general weirdos) it was common for them to send their lovers a handkerchief scented with their perfume/cologne.

Im only telling you this fact because there is a really funny story about Elizabeth the first. She attended a tennis match between two men who were attempting to court her (pun not intended). In the middle of the match, one of the men walked over to Elizabeth, asked for her handkerchief, and used it to wipe the sweat from his face (scenting it). The other man was so offended by this action that he fucking jumped the first guy and a fistfight ensued. When the second guy was asked why he attacked the first, he said the handkerchief wipe was 'too saucy'. I cackle every time I think about this.

ALRIGHT. Now the history lesson is over and you have a general idea of handkerchief flirting. In my unprofessional opinion, the Hazbin guys who carry around handkerchiefs are; Alastor, Sir Pentious, Vox, and Lucifer (technically)

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

I say technically Lucifer because he has a really bad habit of just forgetting about it or leaving it in random places. Guy will reach in his pocket for it, realize its not there, and be like 'oh no NOT AGAIN'.

He has a stash of them in his room and workshop. He also will carry around like two or three of them when he goes out because he KNOWS he is gonna lose at least one of them.

Lucifer's handkerchief is super fancy. Its made out of pure red silk (he likes the texture), with fancy white lace edges. A giant Morningstar family crest is embroidered in the center in golden thread.

I headcanon that Lucifer has always been a shut in and rarely, if ever, goes out. But when he does, this guy is super gracious with his handkerchiefs (he does carry around several after all!). Like, to the point its an actual problem.

Lucifer will see a girl crying and offer her his handkerchief without a second thought. Goes right over his head that its a little weird to give your handkerchief to a stranger and extremely flirty to give it to someone at all.

Has 100% started fights or accidentally made people fall for him because he didn't realize the message he was sending. I also just generally headcanon that shit like this (Lucifer being a social dumbass) is a big reason he hates Sinners.

An example: from Lucifer's POV, a guy just randomly started attacking him for comforting a lady; when from the guy's POV, Lucifer, the King of Hell, just came onto his guy's wife when she was emotionally vulnerable. But Lucifer being an idiot is another post >.<

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Although he was at the tail end of the handkerchief times; Vox still has one personally and sees it as a sign of being a proper gentleman. Or at least he says thats why he has one...

Vox normally keeps it hidden on the inside of his suit jacket though because he doesn't want to deal with random people asking about it or trying to get it. The other two Vees aren't exactly pleasant about it either.

Valentino constantly tries to steal it as a joke, he will 100% start waving it at Vox like a maiden sending their beloved off to war while playing keep away with it (Valentino says stupid shit while doing this too; like "Oh my beloved Vox! You've come to save me from this wretched boredom that has befallen me!"). Of course this is when Valentino isn't using it as a towel to clean up messes of various bodily fluids and nebulous origin that is. (Vox has opted to burn multiple handkerchiefs due to this)

Velvette just thinks its the funniest thing and makes fun of Vox so hard when she sees it. Who carries around handkerchiefs anymore? Isnt that unsanitary? What does a computer need a handkerchief for anyway? Does he sniff it or something? She will not let up.

So yeah, hidden in the pocket it goes. Honestly, Vox will only take it out if you two have become good friends or he has a major crush on you. Otherwise he will just throw a tissuebox at you.

But no matter if you two are platonic or romantic, if you accept his handkerchief and keep it, Vox is guaranteed to stutter and glitch a bit. The fact that you didn't make fun of him and actually want to keep a personalized item from his time just gives him butterflies.

For how flashy the Vees tend to be, your surprised Vox has such a pleasingly monochrome handkerchief. Its a beautiful azure blue with his Voxtech symbol embroidered in the corner in a dark cobalt. Made of pure cotton for optimal handkerchief efficiency because of course it is.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Sir Pentious ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Highkey one of the first germaphobes. Due to, you know, being alive in the time of plague and all.

Like Lucifer, he has a million handkerchiefs. But in Sir Pentious' case, its because he can't help but be polite and give one to his friends when they are sick or crying... and then burn/destroy them right after if they give it back.

Sir Pentious actually has two sets of handkerchiefs. The main ones are simple handkerchiefs made out of patterned cotton-blend fabric. That way they can be mass produced by the Egg Bois and still look nice. These are the ones he carries several sets of and gives out freely.

Be warned: sometimes the Egg Bois like to put their own names on them for fun. So you may end up with a relatively nice red and black plaid handkerchief with a very poorly embroidered 'STANLY' on it in neon green.

The other handkerchief type is his actual personal one. Its black and yellow striped with Sir Pentious' full name embordered along the bottom in a light gray. With how nice the embroidery is, you figure he must have done it himself.

Like I implied before, Sir Pentious is very protective of his handkerchief and doesn't give it to anyone. He normally just gives them his throwaway ones because he is afraid of germs and getting sick.

One of the first ways Sir Pentious tried to show Cherri Bomb his interest was offering his actual handkerchief to her. It was a super big deal to him. Cherri, not understanding the significance/meaning of the gesture, proceeded to blow her nose in it and give it right back.

Needless to say, the Egg Bois were quick to set fire to it

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Alastor has a handkerchief. But he wont offer it to you. Nope. Not ever. Not as a flirting gesture, not even as a friend. Your not getting it.

There is a reason for this though; its because Alastor technically doesn't carry his own handkerchief. He actually carries around the handkerchief belonging to his late mother.

The handkerchief is practically ancient at this point. The just sheer amount of washing and general use it has gone through has worn nearly all color away from it. Most people falsely believe it to be a classic, white handkerchief. But when the light hits it right you can see hints of the vibrant color it once had.

Alastor's mother's initials are also hand embroidered in the corner. Since Rosie is the only one privy to the actual origin of the handkerchief; usually people falsely assume it to be a token from a lover and a sign that Alastor is already taken.

Alastor actually loves this because it helps ward off unwanted advances. He will totally pull it out and fake wipe his face with it as a subtle way to tell a lady to back off him.

He is super protective of it and delicately hand washes it himself. Alastor wont even let Niffty touch the thing. You get the feeling that it serves as some kind of weird security blanket for the stag.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

AN: This took wayyy longer to release then I meant it to because its the first writing thing Ive put on here and Im anxious about it aaahhh. Ive reread it like 12 times and I still guarantee I missed things OH WELL

52 notes · View notes