#its giving kim people are dying

[its-tortle]

i commented on an ig reel of someone trying to do a bad blood (hey stop version) during one o the gilette shows and literally what kind of weird fucking argument response did i just get

[taino-ti]

like what really gets my goat ab some of u bitches is u make everything a federal fuckin issue. someone buys a fursuit and suddenly everyone and their moms is like “um i just dont trust someone with THAT much expendable income to blow on something so trivial” or whatever. like do u know what that furry probably did to afford that? draw other furries on the internet. if other people having hobbies bothers u so much maybe you should just get one yourself. grow up.

[briebysabs]

I’ve been deliberating for a couple days now and have decided to discuss in-depth about Kim Dokja and the tendencies of putting his life on the line. For most of the novel, I was split on whether I should view KDJ as a self-sacrificial bastard or a suicidal character. And by the end, I’ve reached the conclusion that he is both.

Before I elaborate further, it should be noted that while we all meme about KDJ’s dying count, he actually isn’t that careless with his life. What I mean is he sacrifices himself usually as a last resort, plans A to F didn’t work and it’s the only option left to hope for kimcom’s safety-ditch effort. Usually. We’ll circle back to that when we bring up OD. But his sacrifices are always done as granting his companions salvation, utterly blind to how they feel about it. But to understand his constant need to do this you have to first start with where he learned how to love. Lee Sookyoung’s love was sacrificial, she’d take the brunt of her husband’s rage to shield KDJ, she’d take on blame for his death and be incarcerated for years so Kim Dokja won’t discover the truth. All of this, in my opinion, unbeknownst to KDJ, imprinted onto him this interpretation of love. As nobody else until the scenarios began had loved him (Yes HSY technically but he doesn’t know that). Which gives the irony that multiple characters KDJ resent in the story such as Kim Namwoon, his mother, the constellations are ultimately revealed to be reflections of himself.

Another component to his self-sacrificing is “Kim Dokja the reader”. I’m not going to dive deep into how orv interweaves dissociation and escapism into its narrative, I’ll do that some other day. But KDJ views himself as the reader, an outsider, the sole member in the audience watching the story unfold before him. Yes he grants commentary, the players notice and acknowledge his existence, but he isn’t part of the play. So if he decides to step out of the auditorium for a while, if he decides to leave a bookmark where he left off and close the book, nothing should change. The story will continue in his absence, the characters cannot possibly miss him because Kim Dokja was not a character. He was not part of their world so even if he’s gone, the ending will still happen. And that is something I want to stress here.

KDJ says “he wants to see a certain story’s epilogue”. Specific choice of words, “see”. He doesn’t say he’ll be part of it,that he’ll be with them, or any close variation of those phrases.

This is where I want to diverge to talk about KDJ's suicidality. You can say “Ok then, KDJ has a clear goal in mind to reach the ending he desires. Yes he may feel the need to step out of the story every now and then, but he does so reluctantly. So obviously, he doesn’t want to die.” And you wouldn’t be wrong really but that simplifies it to an overwhelming degree. That’s how I initially thought of it until I realized how complicated it actually is. Because most people who deal with suicidal thoughts aren’t searching for death but rather feel there’s no other choice. It often isn’t as clear cut as 1863 YJH who, anyone that read this arc will say with certainty that he was suicidal. Yes KDJ isn’t chanting in his mind over and over that he wants to die but why does he want to live? To see the proper ending of a web novel that stopped him from attempting again to begin with. Over the course of orv he finds people he loves and who love him back deeply. People he longs to live for but despite that because of the disconnect between them, his self-loathing, accompanied with what I said before, believing he has no other way out of these threatening situations. Yeah it’s to save his companions but in the end Kim Dokja still feels the need to die. Even if you do not see KDJ as a suicidal character, it is undeniable that so much revolving him, the impact it has on those who care for him, and the visceral descriptions used to convey their thoughts, is a direct metaphor for that.

Or in a few cases, straight up what’s going on and now we arrive at what I think was the final straw for Kim Dokja. Meeting the Oldest Dream. For me, this is THE scene of orv. The biggest twist and what finally irreparably broke KDJ. Prior to this, Kim Dokja had become the “Enemy of the story” but it was unlike his previous dances with death. This time he truly had no intention of dying, he wants to be a part of the ending with his companions, he understands now that his sacrifices do hurt them. That according to him “I, someone of no redeeming quality, could be loved by the others.” That he is a character and that just maybe, he does deserve to live happily ever after with them. And then Kim Dokja meets a 15-year old boy with the same face as his, doodling in a notebook his ideas for Ways of Survival and a notification tells him to ‘Please end the Oldest Dream’. All of that progress is shattered in an instant.

KDJ tries to excuse himself by recalling his promise to SP to kill OD but we all know if that was any other kid, he would not have tried to kill them. He would’ve hesitated much more, he’d look for a loophole, he would’ve tried talking which is his biggest strength for every corner he gets into. Killing them would not be the first option but now it is. Because this isn’t an instance of sacrifice anymore, KDJ is sick of himself. OD is a presence that confirms KDJ’s worst fears. That he’s meant to be weak and pitiful and alone, that he was always an outsider, that he unintentionally causes pain and misfortune to people he loves, that everyone would be perfectly fine and better even without him. And Kim Dokja is the physical manifestation of them: a monster. And there’s only one way to get rid of this monster.

The chain of events from him swinging his sword at OD, trying to stab himself with the blade only for YJH to stop it desperately with his hand, everyone restraining and begging him to stop, KDJ crying and screaming for SP + the other Outer Gods to kill OD. Everyone else is forgiving him and KDJ is only thinking of getting a blade.

This is Kim Dokja’s relapse. It’s real, it’s harrowing, and he never recovers from it. He reaches the conclusion that he has to be alone, it’s his atonement, it's what he deserves. So he splits himself 49-51. I interpreted this when I first read it as presenting 49% of what you believe people want to see. More real than a facade but it’s not the true you. The true, fucked up version of who you are is trapped in a prison of your making, trapped in a darkness you feel you don’t deserve to escape. Which is why it’s so powerful that KimCom went after that 51%. They didn’t want just their version of KDJ, they wanted everything KDJ is including the larger side of him that he wishes didn’t exist. But the plan fails, they managed to turn that full stop into a comma but they couldn’t save KDJ. Because you can’t drag someone out of that train, out of that mentality, you can’t force someone to love themself. All you can do is reach out to any corner, every worldline you can and let them know you’ll always love them. That you’ll always love every aspect of their story and hope that perhaps one day, they’ll accept your hand and believe it.

[ID: Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint art by Blackbox: first of Kim DOkja smiling, seen through a space in a bookshelf, and second of astronaut Yoo Joonghyuk floating upside down as letters float around him. End ID]

[babiesdreams]

Hii! Its knighty here! Can i request something? Just a small imagine with doyoung where they're having a playful argument but it turns into smut and cany/nchokehimitsokayifyoudont

Rough but fluff💞

Love you, cutie!

I have been dying to give some powerplay to y'all.

Kim Doyoung: I'll make you listen +18

Warnings: Breath play, degradation, cum control and discipline.

"What the hell are u doing here?" Doyoung says with a deep voice, his brow raised, reflecting his confusion towards your actions. "I thought you were mad at me" His eyes fix on yours, staring into you deeply. "I am mad" you reply, with an agitated tone, not looking into his eyes at all.

"Then what are you doing here?" He ask, now tilting his head to the side a little, looking at you curiously, his voice had an edge to it, as if he was ready to argue with you.

"I forgot..." You start explaining but stop mid sentence, the truth is you came back because you couldn't bear the pain of leaving things like this. "This is my house too you know?" You simply state. "I do not need to explain what I am doing at my house"

He rolls his eyes at your explanation, not bothering to argue with you as he simply walks past you to find something to drink. "Whatever" He mutters, clearly annoyed by your presence.

"Don't whatever me" You reply annoyed. "After what you did you have no right to do so" He slams the fridge's door closed. "Just shut up" He snaps, he doesn't even bother looking at you.

"What the fuck has happened to us?" You ask, with a hint of dissapointment. "This is not who we are" He pauses, the question surprising him a little, and he sighs. He leans against the fridge, not facing you, looking at the ground now. "...Yeah.." He agrees eventually.

"Look I understand, people express themselves in different ways and I understand that love is a big word and that you don't say it to almost anyone. I do understand that you don't reply my every I love you with an I love you too. I... Understand. But it feels like you hate me" Tears start coming from your eyes. "We've been dating for a year and your reply has always been a kiss or a hug and... I can understand that but today... why did you say okay and ignored me like I asked you to do the groceries?"

The anger he felt before immediately vanished, and he just sighs, before closing his eyes, and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You misunderstood everything..." He says calmly, walking closer to you, eyes now fixed on you.

"Then explain it to me" I shout at him. "Talk to me" His hand punches the wall behind you, trapping you between his body and the cold concrete. "I feel like you deserve better than me" He whispers. "Then be better" Your words are shaky and light, precaucious even.

"Do you love me?" You whisper while your eyes fall from his to his lips, as if you didn't really care about the answer. His lips trap yours in a messy kiss that you manage to pull away from. "Do you love me?" You raise your voice slightly, keeping his body apart from yours.

"I lo..." He mutters. "I love your morning kisses. I love holding your hand, feeling like I'm safe and protected, I love to see you smile..." You sigh, looking to the floor, too dissapointed to face him. "So you don't love me"

His hand lifts your face, forcing you to look at him. "No" He whispers. "I adore you" His words surprise you, making you freeze for a moment. "I... adore" He starts whispering again but you shut him with your lips.

The kiss starts being sweet, but soonly gets replaced with a lustful flavour. He lays his body weight on you, grinding against your body that hits the wall roughly. His hand playfully caress your thigh, moving the fabric of your skirt out of the way.

Your mind is full of unanswered questions, but his hands motions don't let you think clearly. You push his body away from yours. "Why didn't you..." Your heavy breaths force you to stop talking. All your eyes can look at are his lips. "Why didn't you say it earlier" You manage to let out.

He walks back towards you. His hand lays on your cheek, pulling your face closer. "I was afraid" He whispers. "That I would lose you" You look deeply into him, understanding how his past could have conditioned his actions.

"You won't lose me" You reassure him with a whisper. His hands move towards your neck, slowly applying pressure onto it. You gasp desperate for air, while his lips trap yours again. His free hand moves slowly up your legs, caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

A goosebump drives through your skin taking a soft moan out of your lips. The sound gets suckd by his mouth. He grunts as well, his grip on your leg gets tighter, pulling you closer to his body. You feel his bulge against your belly. The feeling makes you thrust your body closer to his.

He pulls out of the kiss, breathless. His eyes fix on yours, while he rests his forehead on yours. His hand moves from your neck to the back of your head. An evil grin grows on his lips and a small chuckle follows. After he recovers his breath, he positions both of his hands on the back of your thighs. He grunts while he lifts you in the air.

Your legs surround his neck, in an attempt to get more stability than what his arms can offer you. He passes his tongue over the light fabric of your underwear, burying his head beneath your skirt. You start moaning almost instantly, the feeling you had uncounciously been craving for the whole morning suddenly invades you in an uncontrollable wave of pleasure. He starts walking towards the bedroom, which forces you to bend to prevent your head to hit the doorframe.

Once in the bedroom, he throws your body on the bed, takes your panties off and keep eating you out. He teases your high, changing his pace everytime your moans get too loud. After a while he lifts his head, looking at your heavily blushed face with a smirk. His fingers keep on doing circles over your clit, while he climbs over you and kisses you passionately.

You trap his face with your hands, making sure he doesn't get away this time. His fingers enter you now, causing a series of loud moans to leave your lips following a messy rythm. You manage to somehow get on top of him by turning around. He looks surprised by your sudden actions, although not entirely mad at it.

He pulls his fingers off you. When his hand moves closer to your face you lick his fingers clean, tasting the flavour of your horniness. With his fingers still on your mouth, you start to undoing his belt and pulling his pants and underwear off. Your hand guides his erection inside of you.

You start riding him, keeping your hands on his chest for support. Your eyes don't look away from his face for a second, since you want to enjoy the view of his enjoyment. Something about his blush, his messy breaths and the low moans he lets out makes you feel somewhat empowered. Without thinking too much, your hand gets dragged up his chest. When it reaches his neck you apply the slightest pressure to it.

His expression shifts instantly. He moves so that he's on top of you again. "What are you doing?" He grunts with a slight grin. You're shocked at the speed of his reaction. "I just..." You try to explain yourself. He's still inside of you, but he's not moving an inch. "Do I need to discipline you?" He asks with a raised brow.

"W-what?" You ask while blush invades your cheeks at the thought of him being mad over such a silly thing. "I said" He starts, putting his hand on your sides to support himself. "Do" He roughly thrusts you. "I" He thrusts you again. "Need" Again. "To" Again. "Discipline" This time it goes all the way in, making his tip reach your cervix. "You" The last one is rougher, somehow.

You remain silent, shocked by how much this whole situation is turning you on. "I see I really need to" He whispers, before starting again. His thrusts are wild, really rough, deep and fast. It makes you lose control easily, turning into a horny mess.

"Why are you being so loud now?" He asks with a hint of degradation. "Are you close?" His question makes you realize you're actually on edge, so you nod. He stops so suddenly that it makes you gasp. His hand grabs your face and he gets closer. "If you can moan, you can talk" He whispers against your lips. A wave of heat runs through your body. "Are you close?" He asks slowly.

"Yes" you whisper, making him chuckle. His hand fixes your hair with a softness that makes a huge contrast with his previous actions. "Why are you so quiet now? Are you embarrassed?" He asks with a smile. "A little bit" You whisper with a soft smile. "Do you want me to stop then?" He asks with a smirk.

"No" Your voice suddenly raises. When you hear yourself you get embarrassed again. Being aware of how desperate you were was a first for you. "Oh no, but you are embarrassed I should stop" He says pulling away from you slowly. It drives you crazy how obvious it is that he's enjoying this just by looking at his grin. "No. Please" You say pulling his body closer, though his strength makes you fail at it.

"I don't know you don't seem convinced..." You roll your eyes, which seem to motivate him further. "Oh now your rolling your eyes at me?" He asks raising his brow. "Doyoung. Please" You say softly. "Please what?" He asks "What do you want?"

You breathe trying to get some patience back. "I want you to move" His grin grows. "Out of the way?" He teases. "No. I want to cum" You shout. By the look on his face, he seems satisfied. "That's a shame" He whispers. "I don't think you deserve it" You look at him with a desperate look, trying to guess if he's serious about it.

He thrusts slowly, trapping your face in between his hands. "You cannot cum" He whispers. "Understood?" You nod, just relieved that he's moving again. "Not until I do" His thrusts start getting rougher by every passing second. The speed makes you lose control of your moans easily.

His hand traps your neck, applying pressure to it. "Control yourself" He whispers. You start breathing slowly trying to prevent your high from taking over. His grunts hint that he must be close as well, so you keep on preventing your climax by controlling your breaths. When you feel the hot cum painting your walls you let go, although the fact that he inmediately pulls out of you stops it from happening.

You look at him, probably looking like an abandoned puppy. He doesn't seem bothered at all by it. His fingers go inside of you, but they don't move much, just enough to collect his cum. "Open your mouth" He orders and you obey, letting his fingers enter easily. The dripping fluid washes over your tongue.

"How do I taste?" He asks, caressing your inner thigh with his other hand. "So good" You say in a desperate tone that is completely new to you. His hand moves from your mouth to your thigh. Both of his hands open your legs while he licks you slowly. "How do I taste?" You ask back, trying to regain some power.

"Desperate" He groans before licking again. "Are you gonna cum on my mouth?" He asks teasingly. "If you're good enough..." You say trying to keep your cool although it's quite hard in your position. His lips trap your clit, sucking it in. A loud moan escapes your lips. "It doesn't seem hard at all" He comments and before you can answer he does it again. His tongue moves in circles over your clit and your high seems closer by every move he does.

When he sucks your clit tighter it makes you crumble. Your legs start shaking under his hands, your back arches and your breaths get messy. His tongue moves along your folds tasting every single drop of your desperation.

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

Masterlist

[mytragedyperson]

So I've been thinking and I'm pretty sure, if cale does become a god and there's not already a god of hope (I'm still far behind so idk if there is one) Cale will become the god of hope. Because what does Cale represent if not hope?

First, in the first book, the god he's against is the god of Despair and Cale (hope) wins, not easily but he does win in the end.

And then there's Kim Rok Soo, the man he was before coming to this world. If he became the leader and after that, whenever he was at a battle none of his team members die, would that not give the team members hope? Kim Rok Soo's here, we might actually survive it. Its not enough to make them arrogant but it is enough that they don't simply give up

Then there's Choi Han. He's lost everything, and then he meets Cale. He's lost his family, his home, everyone he knew and cared about, and then there's Cale, offering him a safe place to stay, a family, friends, and helping him get revenge for those he lost. He inspires hope in him

Ron gets infected by dead mana, he's dying, he and Beacrox both believe he will due, but he doesn't, because Cale finds a way to save him, restores their hope that they too can get back what they lost.

Originally, all of Lock's family were killed, or at least believed to be killed, but this time Cale sent Choi Han so it can be assumed, everything happened just that little bit quicker, so Choi Han and Rosalyn got there a little bit earlier and we're able to help them, save them, and then Cale helped him through his first time turning berserk and gave them a new home.

This is just a few of the people he's given hope, there's many more, Raon, On, Hong, Alberu. He's given all of them some kind of hope

He was Original Cale Henituse's last hope.

Ugh, just Cale inspiring hope in so many people and defeating the god of despair only to become the god, the embodiment, of hope.

[txtmetonight]

Recordings of the Clock ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ The wallows of slipping time are hidden behind a camera that Kim Seungmin wishes to stop.

pairing *. * Kim Seungmin x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Angst, fluff

warnings *. Mentions of dying, mentions of a disease, bad grammar

call duration⋆ ★ 5.6k

a/n*. * something short I conjured up during finals season, forgive me for not being active uhuhuhuh i think i'm gonna fail my math final...oh well. ermmm i also got a bit lazy at the end but whatevs we ball.

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

25th of March 

The camcorder starts to whir alive for the first time, much to Seungmin’s delight. It’s quite big and sturdy and he struggles to hold it a bit from its awkward grip adjusting his fingers from time to time, yet he is very proud of his purchase–you could see it on his face. The lens of the device sits in front of a cake which is right behind it is you, gleaming in excitement at the curiously situated camera.  

You both don’t know it yet for Seungmin is still figuring out how to control the camcorder but it’s recording with the lens still unfocused.  

“Minnie... are you sure you actually know how to use that. You look like you’re struggling.”  

Seungmin scoffs at your comment but doesn’t say anything. The pads of his fingers play around with the various buttons and his brows furrow to your amusement and impatience. The candles are starting to drip onto the light-blue icing. 

“We could do it later y’kno–” 

“Oh, I got it!” Your husband cheers and suddenly the camera is pointed at you, running quite well in its glory. You smile cheeses at the lens and your husband tries to zoom in and out of your face, softly chuckling when you stick your tongue out at him.

He would say more, but you told him to play nice today since it was your first anniversary with each other and that he wouldn’t have married you if not for this day. He decides to comply with a small grumble.  

“Can I blow out the candles now?” You ask but before he can say yes, you do it anyway, laughing loudly at his expression, which is contorted into a faux annoyance.  

“Why would you ask, just to do it anyway?” He zooms into the cake with a little smile. He got the cake along with the camera just hours before as a surprise for you.  

You shrug, your voice becoming a little muffled through the audio. “Aren’t you gonna sing us a happy anniversary song?”  

“No.” 

But his actions defy his words as he carefully sets the camcorder down in a position where it could still capture the both of you as he rounds the table towards you. He takes a small swipe at the cake to smear your nose when he sits down next to you, but you do nothing in retaliation.

You just grin and lean a bit closer and that’s when he finally sings to you, and you start to fluster underneath his gaze. It’s loving and deep when his hands trail to your jaw and cup your face. He kisses your cheeks.  

“Happy anniversary lovely.”  

11th of April 

“Seungmin, look over here!”  

The passing wind whips your husband’s hair into his face as he tries to face you with a broad smile. You laugh at his misery as the camera subtly shakes in your hold, trembling at the skittering steps you take to meet a huffing Seungmin.  

The sun glares at the ground as people ranging from young to old scattered the small park on its threshold. The camcorder picks up the jovial energy through the recording and you’re satisfied with the clarity of it all. But your partner isn’t too ideal with your whole attention on this mere device. 

“Just marry the camera at this point. You look like you’re about to kiss it.” 

“Oh hush.”  

You roll your eyes and switch the camera over to face it towards you both. You’re squinting into the lens, but Seungmin looks down at you, pressing a softening smooch to your hair, just before he grabs the camcorder out of your hands. 

“Wait–give it back!”  

The sky is a bright blue, and it practically blinds the glass especially at the way that Seungmin points the camera up.  

“No way! We’re on a date! Your eyes should be on me. On your husband.”  

You snort but ultimately give up your fruitless attempts, knowing him very well enough that he wasn’t going to succumb to your requests with the mind that he was indeed right in his reasoning. You instead punch him in the gut, which he hunches over for in pain before you sit down on the picnic blanket laid out on the ground.

He follows soon after and the grass folds underneath the camera’s weight–just a bit out of reach from your fingertips, pushing it away just slightly when you make a lunge for it.  

Seungmin smiles smugly at your expense.  

“You’re so mean to me,” You whine pulling your hand away from his sneaky fingers, but his reflexes are faster (or rather you were just slower of purpose), but he catches your arm and intertwines your pinkie with his. It catches you warm and tingly inside at his affection, yet you refuse to show him that in the amidst of your (fake) vexation.  

Seungmin knows truly that you’re acting inside and so he lets himself open the small picnic basket he prepared for both of you and serves himself a sandwich...a sandwich that was supposed to be for you.  

“Wow, this looks so good right now. Maybe I’ll eat this one today.” Seungmin brings the food up to his lips, just hovering over his teeth with a smile that grows even bigger when you don’t even spare him a glance. You instead choose to stare at his own meal that he packed for himself. When you see him take a small nibble from the corner of your eye, you let a disheartened sigh leave your lips.  

You don’t see it immediately, but the man clicks his tongue and nudges himself a little closer to you, holding the sandwich up to your mouth now. You bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from giggling at his antics. He’s cute–really and every moment you spend with him, you’re reminded why you decided to marry him. Your fingers seem to clutch your hands a little tighter, overwhelmed with the amount of love that thrives through your veins.  

“C’mon, I was just joking. Take a bite, I worked so hard on this!”  

“Hmmm fine. If only you buy me ice cream later.” 

He rolls his eyes but nonetheless agrees with your deal and with that, you take a bite out of the bread, taking it out of his hands with a meek chuckle. You find his beam that follows gorgeous.  

The silence that consumes the area is peaceful and serene, yet you're soaking in the pure warmth that your lover radiates. The trees that provide the shade sway back and forth and the distinct laughter of children from a nearby pair of swings entrances your attention.  

You’re stunning like this–Seungmin knows, has known for the first time he’d ever met you. But he’s still taken aback every single time, with a great surprise. The ring on your finger glimmers in his eyes. 

“We need to start packing to go to your parent’s house on Sunday.” Seungmin groans taking the empty plastic plate away from you and replacing it with a small bowl of strawberries. You gratefully take them but your face cocks to the side with confusion. 

“We’re going...to my parent’s house?”  

Seungmin snorts, “Yeah stupid. It was your idea remember.” He pauses for a second and then continues, “Or actually my idea because I’m such a great son-in-law.” 

“Yeah right. You argued with my dad over which baseball team was better. You really hurt his feelings that night.” You snort, slapping his arm.  

“Because it was a serious matter!” 

“Of course. I could never doubt you, Minnie.”  

He manages to shove the red fruit down your mouth to shut you up. 

29th of April 

“Say hi.” 

You roll your eyes and focus once more on the stack of papers on your desk. But you certainly don’t ignore his chuckles, a soft grin blooming on your face when he suddenly slams his hands on the documents. 

“Minnie don’t disturb me. I need to submit this by tomorrow.” 

“Why what happened?” He questions, looking closely at the random words that litter the page before he deems it too incomprehensible for his understanding. When you grumble, he innocently smiles at you.  

“I accidentally arrived at the meeting a little too late...and mixed up some of the forms, and you know how Mr. Cheong is.” You ruffle your hair in your hands in exasperation. “He got pissed and decided to punish me for my ‘unresponsible behavior!’. Can you believe that?!”  

Seungmin nods solemnly before he takes what he’s sure is the third cup of coffee that night. “Well, he’s an asshole...but I’ll leave you to it, I guess. Have fun!”  

You groan. “Seungminnn!”  

1st of June 

The loud humming of a commercial is loud in the background, but Seungmin pays no mind to it, not when his loud chuckling overpowers it with you standing in front of him in a grimace. You’re sporting an apron that’s covered in a multitude of stains that you reject to get rid of simply because it is one of Seungmin’s first gifts to you after he found out about your dear fondness to cook.  

Yet that sentiment to the pots and pans has brought you down for the first time in a while and you’re severely disappointed, to say the least. At least Seungmin’s having his fun and he’s talking to the camera as he’s at it, showing the lens the failed stew. 

“You don’t have to be recording this...” You say, glaring at the bowl in front of him. He shrugs his shoulders and says, “It’s one in a chance lifetime moment.” 

You’re not sure if you are offended or moved by his comment. 

“Seriously, I don’t know what I did wrong! I swear I did exactly what I usually do!’ You stress, going back to where all the spices lay near the stove, checking every single one of them. Seungmin who usually expressed his delight for your food, scrunched his nose right as the spoon touched his tongue, pushing you into a mess. 

“Lovely, which container did you use for salt?” He asks, looking over your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek to calm you down a bit. It helps a little, and you answer his question by picking up a fairly large pink container that was filled with salt. Or so you thought. 

“That’s...the sugar box. That’s why it was so sweet.” He takes the container out from your hands as you furrow your eyebrows, sighing deeply at your idiotic mistake. 

“Has it always been that box?” You weakly ask. You feel his nod and your lips tremble before you awkwardly squirm out of his grasp. As of recently, work has been cutting off your sleep and you find yourself more muddled than ever. You plan to call off work for the next two days and get your well-deserved rest. 

But right now, you need to find the spoons and taste the stew yourself–except you forgot where they’ve gone! 

“Where did we put the utensils again?!” You cry, frustration ripping you apart.  

“Hey, hey, calm down a little. It’s gonna be okay.” Grabbing your hand, he bends down and kisses you softly against the counter, slowly wiping away the tears that roll down your face. You can’t help but feel horrible though. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I–I just messed up dinner and–” 

Seungmin kisses you again and softly hugs you against his chest where you melt. His fingers thread through your hair and you can’t help releasing another choked sob. Everything has been so stressful recently and it feels nice in his arms. 

“And it’s not the end of the world, is it? We can still order something nice. How does pizza sound for tonight?”   

15th of June 

“Where are we at Mrs. Kim?” Seungmin queries, zooming into your face as you swat your hand at him. Your cheeks redden when a couple of onlookers shoot their gazes your way, but you sigh and stare up at your husband.  

“In the parking lot. Of a hospital.”  

“Because why?”  

You give him a look. “Because I haven’t been taking care of myself and got sick.” 

He nods and pinches your cheek. He supposes that you both look odd with a big camera in his hands, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. He rather would watch these old videos with his future family with you, laughing at all the stupidity.  

“Minnie I’m not even that sick though–really! Maybe you’re overreacting a little.”  

“I’m not going to listen to a physically ill person.” He sings.  

You cross your arms and look away in annoyance. Sometimes your fingers itched to wrap around his throat to strangle him, and that tingle was very apparent now as his arms brushed alongside yours. 

“And that physically ill person is also your wife, who knows her body better than you do. You know this will just be another unnecessary bill added to our insurance.” 

“Yep. And I don’t care.... 'cause we’re already here. Say bye to our baby.” He lets you take the camera for now as you raise eyebrows at his claims, softly chuckling to yourself about his ridiculousness.  

“Our baby? Really?”  

He nods. “Yeah of course. Now say bye, and we’ll see him later after the appointment.”  

“Wait. Why is it a bo–” 

The damned camera now focuses on a small bird in her nest before it flips back to Seungmin’s face. 

“Alright, we’re back baby. Do you wanna tell our daughter how the meeting with the doctor went.” Seungmin coos at you to rile you up. And it works well because you’re especially snappy today when you twist the skin of his waist, making him yelp in pain. 

“Horrible. They took my blood. And Kim Seungmin, if you make me anymore angry than I am right now, I swear to fucking god, I will snap your head in half.”  

“Yikes we can’t have that now, can we?” He shakes his head and before he can get another word out, you (softly) slam the camcorder shut. 

19th of June 

“Hellooo! We are playing Uno and our dear Seungmin is biting the curb. He fucking sucks at the game!” Felix exclaims into the camera, his endearing freckles up close and personal to the camera. He pulls out his own cards and shows them secretly to Lens–his deck consisting of three two-pluses and two other random cards of blue and yellow.

He has the least number of cards out of the whole group playing and it’s evidently shown when he turns his hands around. And just as he said, Seungmin truly is horrible because he now holds what looks like half of the deck in his hands.  

Right next to him is you though who thought that it would be better not to play as you started to mess up whatever the hell you were doing with your cards. You blamed it on the influx of alcohol in your system as to why you were acting so dozy.  

“I’m so sorry Seungmin. But this is the only card I have!” Jisung apologizes (though you could all tell he definitely wasn’t feeling sorry) and proceeds to place a four plus in the growing stack of discard. It’s funny to see the man rage. 

“Fuck you.” He seethes but nevertheless succumbs to his defeat grabbing another four cards to add to between his fingers which causes a robust found of laughter from your group, Chan practically turning red at the face from the amusement. Minho laughs softly then turns towards you and offers another drink that you refuse with shaking hands and a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to your husband’s shoulder when he releases another fit of anger. His friends were certainly not playing nicely tonight. But it’s all fun and loud.  

“Hey guys...say cheese!” Felix shrieks when he finally places his last card down–a yellow six and Changbin gets berated by Jeongin after he promised him that Felix doesn’t have any yellow cards.   

20th of June 

You’re sitting alone on the couch curiously watching your husband busy himself making tea. It’s “teatime” he had told you after randomly watching a rather boring movie on TV that was for some reason making a delectable scene of tea making. You both decided to turn off that awful show and converse yourself into a debate about how to properly eat Bungeo-pang while drinking a nice cup of warm infusion.  

He’s fairly quick with his brewery skills and is out by you in no time, handing your mug to you (but not before he took a small sip out of it) and crouches down right in front of the camcorder. 

“What’s the proper way to eat Bungeo-pang–from the tail or from the head? Start!” He claps his hands loudly and you in turn laugh at his dorkiness but settle yourself comfortably to absolutely destroy your husband with your reasoning. Who in the world eats fish bread from the tail anyway? 

“Obviously the right way to eat Bungeo-ppang from the head. It’s just morally correct!” You argue, taking a sip of the drink in your hands. Your husband who couldn’t disagree more scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“How is eating the head more ‘morally’ correct than eating from the tail. That just seems cruel!”  

“Because if you eat the head first, then the fish would already be dead and wouldn’t experience the pain of being eaten alive! If you start from the tail, then it’ll slowly die out!” 

“It’s not even alive, lovely. Eating from the tail is just more satisfying! It’s less messy too.”  

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow. “But what if it was alive? Then what would you do then? Also, how is it ‘less’ messy than starting from the head, Minnie?” 

“Because–” He groans before the phone cuts him off. It’s shrill and it catches you off guard for a second as you jump in your place on the couch. You both let the phone ring for a second only to have Seungmin get up to his feet and take the call after a recent event where you were hit with severe disorientation after taking a random call from a wrong number. You just remember rambling to the phone...even though the call had been cut. It was awkwardly weird. 

“I’ll be back. And then I’ll show you exactly why eating from the tail is better.” 

You shrug your shoulders and shoo him off (he didn’t exactly like that because he stuck his tongue out) but you hear his footsteps stumble at a loose floorboard. You huff at his clumsiness and turn to stare at the window, formulating more quarrels to use against your lover in a light-hearted discussion.  

Yet you forget them all when Seungmin comes back with a sour look on his face and his mood tense. He doesn’t say anything as he stalks over to you slowly, but his eyes climb through your features with such desperation that you have a sudden pain of ache in your heart and your fingers quiver on your thighs.  

“Who...who was that on the phone?” You poke, taking his sweet hands into yours. 

“Ah, it was the doctor. They got your tests back.” He sighs looking down at his cup on the table. 

“I see. What did Doctor Jung say?”   

Seungmin stiffly clears his throat and plays with your fingers–a habit that he enforces when he finds himself under stress. “Er–he said that you had some inflammation in your blood tests that were causing your...symptoms.” He winces right after though.  

You go quiet at his words. "Is the inflammation serious?”  

“I’m dunno.  Something about your immune system attacking your own tissues–I think.” Seungmin moves in a little closer and kisses the corner of your lips. “He said that you should go ahead and see a neurologist, lovely.” His pout deepens with the passing moment.  

Exhaling deeply, you take your husband off guard when you punch his chest hard. The way he was acting, you thought that you were going to die! But you would be lying that his solemness for your health didn’t make you feel a little warm inside.  

“I thought it was something much more serious!” 

“But it is serious!” He defends, hiding in the crook of your neck. “I suppose, but I promise you I’ll be fine!” You hold at your pinky for him to take, squirming at the way that he nuzzles his nose. 

Looking at your finger, he glances at you once more before he pretends to bite pinky off. But then he seals the promise off while grumbling about how you two weren't babies anymore. 

22nd of January 

“Lovely, here’s your medicine for today,” Seungmin says and you mourn miserably and take down the sickly-flavored treatment. Your husband brushes his fingers over your cheeks as the heavy weight of the camera settles into a familiar grip now that he points it in your direction.

Whereas he used to film with it every day, this is the first time in months since he picked it up after having to take care of you after you got diagnosed with Autoimmune Encephalitis which severely affected your brain. Worst of his fears–honestly when you both found out.   

Going to cognitive therapy back home then to a hospital and then back home again on repeat has unquestionably taken up both of your time. 

“Minnie, I hate this so much,” You whine before you look up at the camera and tap it lightly on the lens. “Where did you get this from?” 

He hums and brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, “Hmm a while ago.” 

“Oh. Why’d you bring it out now?”  

“Because I want to try something really quick” Seungmin painfully chuckles, pressing his lips on yours for a second before he grabs the remote next to you and changes the channel. 

“Hey! I was watching that!”  

“Sorry lovely.” He places another kiss that you chase after when he pulls apart. “But don’t you want to dance to our wedding song?” 

“Our...wedding song?” You quietly whisper, hesitantly taking his hand. The doubt in your voice breaks his heart, a sound that has slowly become habitual in his ears. It’s saddening but he can’t stop hurting himself for you.  

“I don’t know if I remember the steps.” 

He grabs your waist pulls you into him and softly sways the both of you. It’s tender and sweet with a note of bittersweetness as you stare at him, carefully watching his pupils tremble and his lips pressing together when he looks down at you. “That’s okay. Just follow me.”  

He clicks play on the remote and throws the device down onto the table, letting the faint melody play out from the speakers. You’re not sure if it’s familiar–you haven’t felt anything so intimate anymore as you dwindle into a tunnel of lost memories. But with your husband right near you, your body sinks into his. Horribly astray from the path of your past, you wonder how to stop your lover from hurting as his eyes brim with unspoken tears that you kiss away. 

The audio is faint through the camera even as the TV picks up its volume and leads into a stunning piece that you wobble and spin to with unsteady feet filled with calluses that you couldn’t recognize.

You want to imagine yourself in that white dress with heels that dig into your skin, with a veil that rocks to the wind as you both recite loving vows. You really do–but it’s opaque in your head even as hard you try to paint an image with colors. Any image that would fill that gap in your brain.  

It’s antagonizing as the camcorder records the melancholy of the dance, of what was supposed to be happy now turned depressing as Seungmin recites his promises of that fateful night and the tears he shed over in a beautiful you while he picks you and twirls you around.  

7th of Feburary 

The night sky is seemingly apparent filled with stars and the sounds of croaking frogs and chirping crickets are loud and echoing. It’s tranquil yet the moon cries. The camera shows its pearly tears that are luminescent with the glowing sky.  

“I love you,” Seungmin mumbles.  

“I love you too, Minnie...” 

15th of March 

The doorbell rings and from where you sit at the dining table, you perk up at it as you try to mouth some of the memory exercises that your therapist had given you to practice. Seungmin who was right next to you, helping you along with a small smile, immediately gets up to go answer the door. 

“Hey lovely, there’s someone here to meet you.”  

It takes you a second to register his words, but you curiously look up to find a nervous-looking man standing in the middle of your entryway, staring at you with wide eyes. Seungmin who stands next to him, pushes him along, chastising him for being so bizarre like he’s seeing you for the first time. But the man cannot stop ogling at you with a nostalgic look. 

You wave at him and accidentally nudge the device that was by your arms, which breaks him at of his daze.  

“It’s been a while huh?” Minho trails off and his stomach turns at the way that you glance over at your husband in a feverish glance. He doesn’t think you remember him, remember one of your best friends from high school and it casts a shadow over his eyes that you seem to notice and sigh throbbingly.  

“Uhhh um, I’m so–sorry. I don’t really...I suppose you’re...one of my friends?”  

Minho chuckles and puts down one of your favorite desserts (double chocolate chip cookies) in front of you. “Yeah. I am.” 

“You feel fam–familiar to me? Sorry, I don’t know your name?” You breathe, swallowing deeply when the man looks away at you. You hear his chest stutter, and you feel bad, but you try to listen closely to him when he utters his name. Your husband watches wistfully as you parrot it back to him carefully.

You’re not sure if it’s foreign on your tongue but it brings you great sadness that stabs into your heart with an ever-growing puncture.  

Minho chokes on his stammer at the way that your eyes pool with tears and the wails that you cry in misery.  

22nd of March 

“Do you wanna tell the camera what we’re dressed up as today?” Seungmin asks, rubbing your hair and cheeks with his thumbs. He’s gentle as he does it and waits patiently for you to answer. You’re blinking up at him slowly as you nod your head and ruffle that animal onesie that you both match in.  

“Uhhh a d–dog?” You say, sweetly grinning up at him when he places a tender kiss on your forehead, staying there and soaking in the moment of it all. His warmth is radiating, and you wrap your hands around him. Your husband then presses his lips to your ring finger where your ring lays, the same ring that you watch glinting in the sunlight as it shimmers at the love that he has for you.  

Your heart seems to beat faster, and you feel yourself dust in a sheet of red that Seungmin makes fun of you of, and he falls back into those mindless squabbles that you both used to share. The ones that he reminiscences of, late at night and beer in hand, flipping through a scrapbook that you made for him for his birthday a long time ago.  

And when you laugh at him, his heart swells at the way that your entertainment hasn’t changed one bit. That you still let your eyes crinkle even though your body was slowly killing you–the truth of it all. And that you’re still yourself, the same person that Seungmin fell in love with all of those years ago when you bumped into him at a small get-together. You’re still his lovely.  

He still loves you with the same amount that he’d always had. In sickness and in health. 

24th of May 

“Hey, Minnie. Should...should I change out of this?” You’re still in your sweatpants and black top after coming back from the hospital while holding the camcorder in your hand, following your husband’s frantic movement all over the kitchen with a giggle. He emits excitement and happiness, that oozes from the tips of his fingers, akin to a little child. But you can’t exactly blame him for the same feeling of frenzy that runs through your back, making you shiver. 

“Nope! It’s fine! Just hold on a second–oh there it is!”  His hands held a metal knife while half of the cutlery drawer was out on the counter from his search.  

His voice is giddy and strains his throat a little but truly his happiness seems to explode inside of him. A wish that he’d been praying for has finally come true, after being watered with desperate tears and sounds of silent sobs, your body was able to take in the medication without rejecting it.  

It’s a special day as you both elate inside with hope, so much of it that he had an impulse drive to the nearest bakery to buy a big, large cake and to cut it at home with you to celebrate. You both noticed that you were slightly getting better over the past few months and specialists were able to confirm that indeed you were slowly recovering.  

“I’m so proud of you.” He litters your face with butterfly kisses that murmur all what he wanted to say to you and more. It’s needed you realize, and it’s at the way that your skin burns with a mushy feel that melts your guts. And it’s all so much, so warm that you cry into his chest as he holds the trembling knife in your hands, half-way through the cake. 

“Thank you...I love you so much.”  

Your husband doesn’t say anything but move apart just a little and grab a piece of cake, a small piece to shove into your mouth. He then swipes the blue frosting and rubs it on your cheeks, cooling down the red that covers them, flushed at how heavy you blubber nonsensically. You’re so grateful to him and you hope that he knows that.  

“Yeah? Well guess what? I love you more.”   

18th of August 

The dull lights of the hospital are blurring and depressing as soft murmurs of voices from outside cascade past the room. Seungmin doesn’t know how it’s been since he’s been stuck in this same position, but he doesn’t dare to get up. Earlier your parents were here, and he was in a spot to comfort them over their dear daughter, but he now wonders who is here for him now. He closes his eyes in torturous agony. 

It used to be you who would sit next to him and hold your husband next to your heart, but he supposes that he doesn’t have you anymore. His arms try to cover for yours, but they could never compare to your comfort. What he considered a daydream is now a reality as he watches your chest rise and go down, figure linked up to a bunch of machines monitoring your vitals. You were doing so fine until your body decided to give up again and you both find yourself at step one–all over again. Perhaps even worse.  

Seungmin doesn’t know why he’s recording your sleep and maybe it’s a little creepy, but he just wishes that he could stop time. Just for a second.  

You look peaceful and so, so stunning that it physically rips him apart. The eyebags that crease your eyes are nothing in his eyes and the way that you appear is painless and he knows that this is better for you. An endless sleep. He figures that’s what you deserve. 

He scooches himself a little closer to plant what seems to be one final kiss, right on the corner of your lips. You’re so beautiful. And all fate wanted was to tear you away from his arms. Even though you promised that you would be fine.

Seungmin thinks that he might have run out of tears as he packs away the last of your stuff in boxes. His fingertips brush over the old recordings in nostalgia and he wishes that he took more videos of you. He feels cold as the last one plays out fully in a loop, and he cannot find it in himself to detach himself away from you. Yet his hand gusts over another tape he doesn’t remember about. He curiously pulls it out to check what it is.  

Love notes to my Husband <3333 

Soft whispering is in the background before you move into frame, your eyes squint as you stare at the device with a big smile.

“Oh, is this on? Hi Minnie!” You laugh and twinkle your fingers at the camera with eagerness before you cinch your eyebrows together. “Wait if you’re not my husband then don’t watch this...but if you actually are then um...I love you?” Hands tapping on your thighs, you look up at the ceiling to gather your thoughts before you gaze into the camera's lens with a sigh. 

“So actually. I just want to say that I love you Minnie so so so much and that I’m so happy that you actually married me. To be honest, I think that we were soulmates in our past lives and hopefully, we will meet again in our next ones. I am so thankful for you and all you have done for me, Minnie. I really love youuuuuu” You stretch the last syllable out and walk back to the camera, now just crouching in front of it.  

“And remember to keep on smiling!”  

You kiss the side of the camcorder before turning it off.  

[slowd1ving]

Hi! If you're not taking reqs then feel free to ignore this but could you write Kim dokja angst? Maybe we're switching the roles and the reader is dying instead of dokja for once lmao

HOUSE OF CARDS ゜・KIM DOKJA

"A house made of cards, like the fools we are." In which a gambler finally pays the price for his bet. never actually written angst so I hope this is good enough anon art creds to kim28_dokja on twt! pairings: kim dokja + gn reader warnings: blood, injury, death, references to child abuse/dokja's past wc: 2.4k

ORV MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Dokja is shit at games. 

It’s clear to the dealer. Even on the best day, those omnipotent palms that allocate fate will grow clammy (which they never do) and that ever-present smile slowly turns into a profound grimace. They know. They feel it instinctually, on a cellular level: that hand was terrible. 

It’s clear to the people around him. The salaryman stumbles into the building as though he’s just learned to walk: in never-polished shoes, slacks that perpetually crease further with each nervous wipe of his hands, and the clinging scent of smoke that preludes his entrance. He’s not got his life together, they observe, behind stony poker faces he can never quite master. That’s why he’s here.

Most of all, it’s clear to Kim Dokja himself. Every irregular heartbeat pulses in his throat as he gazes at his cards—two seven offsuit. In his sweat-streaked fingers is the short straw urging him to enlist. On the table before him are all his chess pieces, lined up neatly: spectators to the constant check, his inevitable downfall. 

Despite his atrocious luck, the thin red string binding him to this world never quite severs. A fire befalls the casino. A bullet embeds itself in the shell of his helmet and not a hair further. The chess game is postponed by a phone call and the poignant sound of shattering glass—and Dokja is left to shoulder the limbo of an unfinished game.

He’s shit at games, but never truly loses. 

Is it simply up to chance? A coin is tossed into the air: another foolish plan devised, another chip placed that equates to one of his lives. Crisis after crisis—Dokja, that harbinger of misfortune—yet each time, he resurrects. He bets on it, in fact: quite literally gambling away everything. 

It is just how things are. He cuts corners. He smooth-talks the fates into letting his transgressions slide just a little longer. For once, he’s winning, and the grand prize is something beyond his wildest dreams—an ending, to mark the indefinite uncertainty of chapters that seem to grow like nebulae. 

“Dokja.” It’s a sigh each time when he defies the end. Anyone else would interpret it as exasperation, but he likes to think he knows you better than that; it’s relief you greet him with, no matter how many times he sacrifices himself. “You idiot.”

It’s nice to know his long-time friend cares about him. 

No matter how many times he places his bets, the value of his life never seems to deprecate for you. Sacrifice is something you’d rather avoid (so does he, but it cannot always be helped, right?). If Dokja’s life can be used to save more of the people he cares about, all the better. 

In fact, he’d rather keep you away from any front line. 

There’s a story of its own between the two of you: years of scraped knees and violence, of gazing up at your shoulders while you bruise your knuckles with whoever bruised his eye, of friendship pacts forged with spat-on palms and corded bracelets. 

Your very soul is entwined with his scrawny one from years past, and it’s always been the case that yours has fought the battles in his stead. ‘Why?’ he’d once asked, and he still vividly remembers the cool response you attempted to give, only to end up fumbling the words. 

Because I can. Because I want to. Because you deserve it. 

It’s his turn to repay his debts. These fights are no longer about a bloodied mouth and spitting red onto the asphalt. They don’t end with bruised ribs and broken noses. 

You sit out. This one, he thinks grimly, is his fight—one that will guarantee both you and him turning the page on ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼◼. Every factor has been considered. Each risk is carefully mitigated at the expense of himself. None of the contingencies fail to prioritise his oldest friend. 

These are chips he cannot afford to bet on. 

Naturally, he keeps them close to his chest. 

゜゜・

Dokja is shit at games. 

His friends know it all too well. Those disbelieving laughs they let out, their fists clenching and unclenching as they debate whether to hit him across the head—Dokja, the herald of despair, he is—and finally the rush of words leaving their mouths like air deflating from a balloon: “Never do that again.”

All in, his chips go—each and every time. There is no other way about it: not unless you shackled Dokja to you in vain to make him listen—to stop the endless deaths he goes through. Over and over, until you feel his mind wear into recklessness, until you see the emptiness that taints his eyes as he slips into quiet contemplation.

How will Dokja die this time?

You’d rather erode into nothingness than clip his wings, though. That book he gushed about to you (syllables rushing over themselves in his excitement each update) gave him back his life—if you ruin his painstaking ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼, you don’t think you could forgive yourself.

Even if he’s ratcheting to Icarian heights. Those feathers of his are beginning to streak wax-hot down man-made frames, made of pages upon pages of a book obsolete to all but one dedicated reader. 

You think he can see the pain in your eyes, before he turns away with lips pressed together tightly. You’ll be safe, he reassured you. You’ve got me. I’ll create an epilogue for you to witness. 

Dokja’s changed. 

Those scrawny shoulders have become something that the very sky settles on: ones that no longer shake behind your own arms. The world has bruised you, and Dokja shall bruise it back. Every favour, repaid tenfold. 

Dokja’s changed. 

He’s still got the same facade of the boy you’ve called your oldest friend. If it weren’t for that, you’d think the man who coldly settles his death were a stranger. Someone you never shook hands with, childishly grimacing at the remains of a spat-upon pact rubbing into small palms. 

Dokja’s changed. 

He thinks he no longer causes misfortune with each risk he takes—as if his life were a mere trifle, as if each shred of news about him doesn’t shatter your heart over and over. 

When will it end? 

You haven’t seen him for months. 

Is it finally time to grieve?

゜゜・

Dokja is shit at games. 

It seems you are too. He turns the page of his book, and beside him the house of cards is carefully stacked on the glass table. It’s a precarious matter: high stakes against yourself, an unsafe tightrope that threatens to give way any moment now. 

Your eyes meet his. 

Like magic, the house collapses. 

゜゜・

You are shit at games. 

You take a deep breath, and begin organising what could be the final legacy of Dokja. It’s something he treasured even over his life, evidently: the ending, which you allow into your soul in the Kim Dokja-shaped hole left behind. 

It’s the first time you take a gamble: carefully picking up the shards of his ideas while rivulets of blood run down your fingers. It’s your turn. 

The battlefield in the scenarios is a sanctuary: white noise washing out Dokja’s ever-persistent voice in your head. There’s a perpetual, acrid smell of ash and smoke—a reek that is far better than the dust of buildings Dokja leaves you behind in. 

It’s hard. 

Gambling is not for you; in the sense that it sickens you, rather than just invoking disaster like it does for Dokja. The only good thing about it is that Dokja’s dream is finally being realised—a tribute to your oldest, dearest friend. Like funerary wine, metallic iron fills your mouth (a once-familiar taste) with each battle, every step closer to the story Dokja wove for you. A fabric so salient you couldn’t help but be entangled in it. 

I can do it. That is your gamble. 

You do it. 

You cut down monsters the size of buildings. You cling to life with bleeding fingernails, scraped raw with tenacity. Tentatively, you begin fleshing in the husk of yourself: talking with the friends you made in the apocalypse once more.

And like Dokja, you begin defying death. 

It starts off small—an arrow that you saw coming but didn’t feel like dodging. Jung Heewon almost blew a gasket when she took a glimpse, but then her eyes met yours—filled with the same distance that Dokja’s were, as though you too were peering through an impersonal screen—and she looked away for a brief moment. 

“Idiot,” she whispers. “Don’t treat yourself like Dokja.”

Your chips pile up. 

Except, you don’t quite have the same privilege that your dearest friend has. 

You will incur the cost, rather than somebody else. There is a reason Dokja is called a harbinger of ill fortune to others, and you are not. In the end, your downfall will be at your own hand. 

“Fool,” Yoo Joonghyuk grimaces as he cuts down a wolf you let claw your arm. The coppery stench is thick in the air, but there seems to be a manic grin on your face as you slice and chop and stab: a madness that slowly spreads like illness through your body. “There is nothing more worthless than sacrifice without cause.”

The debt accrues. 

Kim Dokja dreams of your knuckles, bloodied once more as you stand to face the world. But, it’s just a dream. 

He bets on it. 

゜゜・

You are shit at games. 

Bitter, arterial blood congeals on your hands as you try in vain to staunch the flow. There is nothing quite as caustic as the realisation that you fucked up, because now all the signs of your hamartia are clear. 

The house has long collapsed—it’s that final card that still hasn’t hit that glass table yet. 

Is this what Dokja feels? The thought runs wonderingly through your sluggish mind. Is it what he felt, you mean to say, but your throat grows thick whenever you speak about him in the past tense. You can’t quite accept the reality that he’s gone. The shock anaesthetises your mind: cradling your neurons with such gentleness that it’s hard to conceptualise you’re about to follow him to wherever he’s gone. 

Will I see him again?

Everything reeks of iron: from the massive corpse on the ground, to the claw impaled through your abdomen. It was inevitable. You’ve grown tired of the endless fight, and it’s cost you dearly. 

Your chest heaves desperately. 

Dokja. 

“Dokja,” you croak, collapsing onto the rubble freshly decimated. Despite the rough surface, your blood-slicked hands scrabble for purchase on the concrete—something that doesn’t quite feel like you’re the one puppeteering your strings. 

Deliriously, you watch as the same hand urgently attempts to apply pressure to your wound; it goes against rationality, but then again you’re not really yourself anymore. 

“Dokja?” you try again. Perhaps if you speak loudly enough—syllables soaked with sanguine that dribbles from your lips—you’ll be able to reach your dead best friend. 

There is a pressure behind your eyes. 

It may be tears; it may be an unwelcome guest in your head. 

It’s too late, you think. He’s dead, and soon I will be too. 

“Dokja,” you whisper, and there is salt on your tongue as you feel your limbs grow colder. Everything hurts—your pounding head, the thrum of your pulse as you marr the asphalt with crimson, and finally that stupid bleeding heart of yours that swears you can hear the spirit of your oldest friend. 

You can’t die, you think he says—a quiet scream drowned out by the static of your mind. 

“I’ll see you soon, though,” you slur, and the weight in your mind lifts—blurring and coalescing into a mirage you could recognise blind. 

Frigid fingers pass through the hologram, and you smile, bittersweet. 

“Dokja,” you breathe. “It’s been almost a year since I last saw you.”

His hands grasp your shoulders desperately, though his frantic mouth goes unheard upon your ears. You… can’t… die, his lips read—but that’s silly, you think. Doesn’t he want you to meet him again?

Horns curve out of his head, while his wings fluff out—shoulders shaking, with an expression you’ve only seen once on his face before. Utmost grief, when he came soaked in congealed blood and a haunted look in his eyes: murmuring she killed him, over and over. 

He’s your best friend. He was your best friend. 

Kim Dokja has lost his final gamble, and the bullet in the chamber has finally been spun into place for you too. 

“I can see you soon, right?” you murmur—there are cold fingers brushing against your forehead, and you think death is unexpectedly gentle. 

His lips wobble. 

Incorporeal fingers trace the tear tracks on your face—ones that mirror the slow stream of salt from his own eyes. You didn’t even notice—too caught up in the gradual greyness that spreads through each vessel, weaving through sinew and bone and brain. 

“I did a good job, right?” Your sword rests across the ground, heavy after almost a year of fighting. “Maybe it’ll help with the ending that you wanted.”

Dokja’s face crumples, and you can feel your own throat growing thick. Dokja, I’m scared, you want to admit. For the first time in your life, there’s a choking fear that grips you as the red surrounding you blooms into a field. 

Your own wings are rapidly coming apart. 

“Dokja, I don’t want to die,” you mumble. Struggling, you curl and uncurl your hands into fists, but you can no longer feel them. 

“Dokja,” you try again. You can no longer see him, but whether it’s from the salt clouding your vision, or the haze of limbo, you cannot tell. 

There is a phantom pressure that lingers on your face. 

“Dokja,” you gurgle, mouth iron-hot with arterial blood. “Don’t leave me alone—please.”

No response is given, but that sepulchral presence seems to remain—this time, those hands brush and cradle your face. 

You cannot tell if it’s him or death itself, but you don’t think death would kiss you like that. 

As if he could possibly breathe life back into you, his ghostly lips move against yours. Desperately, so urgently you half-wonder at his panic. 

Dokja, you want to ask. You’re already dead, right?

Right? 

With the final scraps of your vision, you watch as he pulls back—his tears pattering across your face—watch as his mouth moves for a final time.

I can’t live without you.

But by then, it is too late.

The words go unheard, and Dokja is alone once again.

[sweatyracoon]

Loser, Boy - k.sm. L.K

A/n: I love the whole, nerd! Seungmin so here is my version. Its been on my mind for a while.

Warnings: oral, mxm, language, suggestive

MDNI

Summary: Lee know was the cool kid, and Seungmin was the nerd. Two different worlds. What happens when they come together?

High school for Seungmin was simple. Or at least, that was the plan.

He would focus all his time into studying, getting good grades to accomplish all that he wanted.

It was important to him to stay focused an maintain a routine.

Simple enough.

But the bullying started. It wasn't his first time dealing with this stuff, but college kids were much more menacing than grade schoolers.

They packed more of a punch.

Not that they ever hit him. A few shoves here and there, as well as a few other pranks or comments. It was enough to exhaust him.

He didn't really have friends. He saw them as a distraction. An obstacle. But there was one guy that he spoke to on occasion for feedback.

Bangchan was someone that forced himself into Seungmins life, proving to be persistently annoying.

"Could you help me with this?" He would ask, not even trying.

"Is this all you use me for?" Seungmin scoffed, pushing his paper towards the older boy, cheating.

"Maybe," He grinned, his dimples showing.

They both shared a light laugh, continuing the work.

One day, a group project was assigned, and, normally, the professor would let you choose the team, but now, he decided to pick.

"Get out of your comfort zone, meet new people, someone from another clique," He explained, causing Seungmin to inhale a bit too quick.

Bangchan noticed immediately, placing his hand onto Seungmins thigh, giving it a squeeze.

"Don't worry, it'll be okay. We can still work together, you know?"

Seungmin nodded, waiting for the reveal. Seungmin wasn't good with people, nor were people good to him. He was nervous.

Bangchan was the third person to be paired, sharing a team with a boy named Han. Han shared the features of a hamster, his large cheeks and big eyes, making him look soft. But his body told Seungmin that he could pull his weight.

Han walked over to Seungmins and Bangchans desk, smiling.

"Hey, Chan! You ready?"

"Always," Chan grinned. Seungmin felt out of place.

"Hey, man. What's your name?" Han asked, looking directly at him, making him freeze.

"Oh! This is my good friend, Seungmin. He's really smart," Bangchan said, giving him a light pat on the back.

Han giggled, his gaze moving up and down Seungmins body. Seungmin still sat still.

"He's adorable," Han whispered to Chan.

"Kim Seungmin, and Lee Minho," The professor yelled, making Seungmins head snap that direction.

Lee know wasn't necessarily his bully, but he hung out with those that did. He would glare at him in the halls or roll his eyes when Seungmin tripped.

He felt his gaze on the back of his neck, making him turn to meet his eyes.

His newly dyed purple hair sat still above his brow, his hooded eyes focused on Seungmin, making him shudder. His taught white button up shirt hugged him tightly, displaying a handsome body.

He slowly raised his right hand, making a beckoning motion, commanding Seungmin to go to him.

He couldn't help but listen. Grabbing his things, he slowly made his way to the older boy, fixing the position of his glasses.

"Seungmin? That's your name, right?" He asked, scooting over to make room.

"Y-yes," Seungmin cursed himself for stuttering, not noticing the grin that appeared on the others face.

"So," Minho shrugged. "What's the plan, Seungmin?"

After half an hour of brief discussion, they both decided to meet at Seungmin dorm later that night to start working.

Lee know was very busy, being a part of the dance team and vocal club treasurer, but this was one of his free nights.

Seungmin sat alone in his room, not needing to clean since he did that as he went by. He was very tidy and liked a germ free environment.

He grabbed a few bowls of heat and eat ramen, just in case Lee know got hungry.

He still was uncomfortable around him, but didn't dislike him as he did his friends. Despite his cold appearance, his eyes were soft and watchful, making Seungmin shrink at the thought of being stared at by those beautiful eyes.

How his nose twitched when he smiled, or how his thin lips displayed his cute bunny teeth when he was annoyed.

How the veins in his neck pop out when he yells, or how his Adams apple twitches when he speaks.

How his chest looked soft yet firm at the same time. And don't get Seungmin started on those thighs! How he-wait what?

Seungmin stopped his thoughts before they could go any further, his face turning red at the sudden reaction he had to someone he had spoken to for the first time.

He went to go splash water on his face, but before he made it to the sink, a knock sounded from the door.

"One second!" Seungmin yelled, splashing cold water on his flaming face.

He hoped the red went away.

Opening the door, he saw Lee know standing, his phone in one hand, and a grocery bag in the other.

"I got some drinks. You like coffee?" He asked, looking up from his phone. His face was stoic, but when he caught sight of Seungmins face, he slowly started to grin.

"Oh...Did I interrupt something?" He teased, wiggling his brows, his teeth flashing Seungmin.

Seungmins eyes widened, "What? No! No. You didn't, please just, come in," once again, he scolded himself internally.

Giggling, Lee know walked in, shoving his phone in his pocket, and placing the two canned coffees on the counter.

"Take your pick,"

"Thank you,"

About an hour later, they were both sitting on the floor, books open and notebooks filled, trying their best.

But Seungmin was distracted.

He kept on having dirty thoughts about Lee know, despite his best efforts.

Ugh! Why did Lee know have to show up in his leg hugging jeans! And his damn white tee with a jean jacket.

It's almost like he did it on purpose.

"Seungmin? Did you hear me?"

What? When did he say something? Seungmin blinked a few times before clearing his throat.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Lee know raised a brow, "Are you feeling okay? You've barely written anything, and your beet red," he explained.

"Again?" He muttered to himself, not meaning to say it out loud. "Uh, no. I'm not sick, I'm okay. Just hard to focus," Seungmin replied, brushing off his worry.

"Ah, I see. I did interrupt you, then," Lee know winked, making Seungmin freeze yet again.

"No, no you didn't, I swear!" Seungmin could never do such a thing. It never crossed his mind, even. He had never felt this way.

"uh huh," Lee know smirked at the boy, giving him a cat like grin that made Seungmins heart flutter.

A few moments of silence passed before Seungmin decided to show his random spurr of confidence, saying, "I've never done that before anyway."

This made Lee know jolt up from his book, looking at Seungmin confused.

"What?"

"I've never done it,"

Lee know tilted his head, a blank expression on his face.

"Masturbate?"

The word itself shook Seungmin. He wasn't one to talk about things like this.

He nodded.

"Why?" Lee know asked, slowly closing his book, but kept it in his lap.

Seungmin pondered the question before answering.

"No one has ever made me want to," His face must be a tomato by now. He was so embarrassed.

"But now?" Lee know asked, his tone cutely quizzical, making Seungmins heart heart.

"Uhh," He paused, unsure of what to say. He honestly didn't even know.

Noticing the hesitation, Lee know let his eyes drift downward, and noticed a slight bulge in the boys pants.

"Who's that for, Seungmin?" A hint of jealousy could be heard from him, but Seungmin didn't notice it.

"Well...This has never happened to me before," He was trying his best to avoid it.

"Seungmin. Who's on your mind?" Lee know asked softly, putting his hand on the boys knee, rubbing it gently.

Minho would be lying if he said this whole interaction didn't turn him on. The poor boy was a virgin, after all, and he had no idea what to do.

"Just you, honestly," And that answer nearly knocked the wind out of Minho. The brutal honesty.

Seungmin shifted and fidgeted, trying to understand these feelings.

All Lee Know could do was stare, which was the one thing Seungmin didn't want. He felt like some experiment under his gaze.

He turned his head, avoiding eye contact.

Lee know shoved his book to the side, leaning forward onto his knees to capture Seungmins face with his hand, forcing him to look at him.

Seungmin still didn't look at him, so Lee know decided to play his way.

He slowly leaned it, locking his lips with Seungmins. He moved slowly, giving him time to pull away, but he didn't. He didn't kiss back either.

Lee know was his first kiss.

"Just follow my lead," Lee know whispered when he pulled back, seeing Seungmin nod lightly, his eyes glossed over.

He looked like a puppy, Minho thought.

Leaning back in again, this time, the kiss went somewhere. Now that Seungmin was learning, it was quickly turning heated, tongues now clashing together in the mix.

He heard a low moan escape from him, making his head spin.

Pulling away, Seungmin saw a thin strand of saliva connecting them both, and he was surprised at how arousing it looked.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this, puppy?" Minho asked, lowering his hands to Seungmins shoulders.

"Wh-what?" His breath was shaky, and his pants were insanely tight.

Minho laughed. "Can I touch you?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.

Seungmin just stared at the sight in front of him.

Lee know was on his knees leaning towards Seungmin, a small smile on his lips, bruised, because of him. His eyes slightly watery, and his hair. Ruffled and messy, purple strands stuck out in every direction. It was so hot.

"Yes," Seungmin whispered.

Lee knows hands at started downwards, slowly. He wasn't trying to go too fast. He didn't want to rush him.

Seungmin leaned back against his bed, relishing in the worship Minho was giving him. He sighed as Lee know gently squeezed his sides.

As the palms of his hands reached the hem of his sweats, they shared a look.

"Yes," Seungmin repeated, this time a little stronger.

Lee know focused on freeing Seungmins cock, watching as it shot up, already leaking and curved.

Seungmin covered his face as the cold air hit his most sensitive area, not wanting Lee know to see his embarrassment.

"You okay, puppy?" He heard from behind his hands.

He whimpered at the pet name, his cock twitching. Lee know chuckled.

"Please-" Seungmin whined, his hips bucking upwards into nothing.

"I'll take care of you, okay?" Lee know said, lowering himself to Seungmins hips.

He grabbed Seungmin in his hand, wrapping his whole hand around it, making Seungmin gasp. He pumped him slowly, using his pre cum as a lubricant.

Gasps and whines were all that Lee know could hear, egging him to go further.

From the bottom to the top, Lee know licked a stripe up his shaft, hearing the strangled moan. He smiled.

He then took his tip in his mouth, wrapping his lips around it softly. Then, without warning, he bottomed all the way, taking in all of Seungmins length.

Seungmins head snapped back, his hands no longer in front of his mouth. He let out a desperate moan, his mouth open, panting.

Lee know had to hold down his hips to prevent him from rutting into his throat.

Lee know started to move his mouth, wet sounds echoing throughout the room. It turned Seungmin on even more.

He wrapped his arms around himself as he was getting blown, unsure of what to do in this situation with his hands.

As if Lee know read his mind, he grabbed one of Seungmins arms, moving his hand to the back of his head.

He stopped what he was doing, making Seungmin whine, but then he said, "Use me."

Seungmin looked at him in confusion.

"Fuck my throat, puppy," he said before placing his mouth back onto him, eliciting a moan in return.

But he didn't move.

He wanted Seungmin to learn. Eventually, Seungmin got the memo, using his hand to push Minho down on his cock, finding the pace that works for him.

He grabbed onto his hair, making Minho moan. The vibrations from the sound made Seungmin snap, releasing into the older boys throat, holding him down to take it all.

With one last groan, he released the death grip on Minhos hair, and fell limp.

"You taste so good, puppy," Lee know giggled, using his thumb to wipe his mouth.

Seungmin shivered, loving the sight in front of him.

"You okay, Seung?" Minho asked, bringing his hand to his face.

"M' okay," Seungmin whispered, making Minho smile.

"Maybe you should get some rest, yeah?" After cleaning up, he picked up Seungmin, quite easily, and placed his down on his bed.

"Will you stay?" Seungmin asked before Lee know could make it to the door. He froze.

"You really want me to stay?" He asked, turning to see the boy in the bed.

"Yeah,"

"Okay,"

Turning of the lights and getting comfortable, he layed next to him, holding his side.

"What is this, Lee know?" Seungmin whispered, his eyes closed.

"What do you want?"

"Just don't leave me alone,"

"I promise,"

[kivedreams]

I have 7k+ on a fic that was supposed to be 4k max, I am letting my delusions go wild, a spoiler:

here's the final product :p

idol namjoon x f. reader, f is latina and poc (and this is completely unedited i mean it )

Just a the moment you thought the party was dying down they arrived, is not like you hated the idea of having a party, but this week has been hard on you, nothing went exactly as you planned, having your thesis send back two times in a row, draw you down, that thesis was the last thing between you and your PHD, you knew it was going to be hard, but god it really was testing you, of course you were happy for NamJoon today was a big day for him, he was finally releasing the book that he always wanted to publish a full guide on Joseon era artwork focused on its influece of todays art, Namjoon was really proud of korean artists, so being able to pay homage to them was a big thing for him and for you, because namjoon happiness was part of your own. 

The tight red dress that you were wearing might have been a bit too much, but it was namjoon’s gift, it might have been tighter because you had put on some weight due to the stress of this months, going to the gym or doing any type of exercise was the last thing on you mind. You would be lying if you did not admit that, it was one of the things that were making you feel insecure tonight, your relationship was already hard, nobody believed that namjoon the first born child of a korean family, the leader of the most successful kpop group and now namjoon the writer would settle for you, a latin woman of color, that did not appeal to a single one of the korean standards, you weren't insecure by namjoon’s feelings, but you were insecure on how everyone else feelings and prejudices might influence his decisions, is not like you were desperate for the ring, you really didn't need it, nor were you prepared for marriage, but sometimes it feel like the only thing that could silenced all the voices in your head, all the social media talk, and of course everyone around you. 

“Y/N?” he called for you, you were still in the balcony of the apartment, seated in the light brown handmade chair, you purchase for the space, with a glass of wine enjoying the seoul night, a slight breeze, and of course the beauty, of the balcony, namjoon and you have crafted together, a lot of plants were everywhere accompany by artworks and souvenirs that both of you have collected through the years, some on your travels together some alone.

“Yes, darling” you responded looking at him, namjoon was a handsome man, you loved that haircut in him, and his choice of clothing today was a masterpiece, that beige suit with a purple bottom up was a perfect mix. He looked at you with confusion in his eyes, he quickly brushed that look a way and say,

“My parents are here, they're asking for you” are they? was the only thing in your mind

You walked to him with a smile taking his hands, to greet them, a most of the guest that have arrived since you little rendezvous to the balcony, you were begging that nobody would notice your weight, your thighs were clearly giving a show in that dress, god I hope the concealer is strong enough to cover the sleep bags in my eyes, do I still have lipstick on?.

“Y/N! His father greeted you “You look beautiful tonight! How is your thesis going? Are you close to the finish line? "His father always looked happy to see you, but was he?

“Mr. Kim! Thank you! And yes I'm close to the finish line, if everything goes as planned, I will be able to present it in a few weeks” You responded with a smile giving him a hug and doing the same with his mother. She always looked at you, at your hair with curiosity  of course 4B coils were not the norm in Korea, but Korean beauty standards weren't going to pressure you into hating your beautiful hair.

After polite talks  and greetings  for a whole night with people that were close to both of you, in professional and personal level, the night was over, Namjoon and you finished saying good bye to the last guest and his agent, the night was a success, as you knew it would be, Namjoon never fails to amaze you, you saw him the whole night , moving around and enchanting everyone, you get it, you too were enchanted by him.

Finally being able to get rid of the uncomfortable shoes and the red lace around your waist that made the dress even tighter, letting namjoon in the living room, talking with the service that was in charge of getting everything clean up and tidy again, walking straight to your room, dreaming of the comfort of your bed, you forgot all the things that were placed on top of it, because you didn't trust any of the frail art pieces to be in the open while everybody drank and mingle, with not other option, you moved to the balcony, walking down to the kitchen first taking a glass of wine with you and politely smiling to the service, namjoon was out of your sight.

Sitting on the cold floor of the balcony letting your hair free from the detailed bun that it was made into, enjoying the silence and peace of the night. You felt empty, maybe too much stress plus the insecurities in your relationship were passing you the bills, in a few months you would be 30, and if you get your PHD granted, working as a full time curator in the national art museum of seoul, just what you wanted, but was namjoon on your side for it? you didn't know.

[garessta8]

A lore sieve/Disco Elysium fanfiction fact checker (in progress)

Disco Elysium is a huge game, with lots of lore not just about its world, but about its characters... And what puts it apart from other similar large cRPGs is that this lore is split under a bazillion of different conversations which are hard to navigate and easy to miss.

As a result, there are a lot of small from the game perspective, and potentially huge from the fanfic perspective, facts that many people just unaware of and make up their own stuff instead. While others are aware of it and create some vague fandom-spreading fanons and headcanons... The inconsistency irks me a little.

There's an entire lore atlas (endless love to the author), and although it has at least some of those facts, it mostly focuses on geography.

So I'm just gonna drop off some not-always-known facts that I have personally checked through game dialogues on FAYDE. Please, share your own if you remember something like that... I will add more later by editing this post if I stumble on them and then maybe reupload it all.

And yeah, SPOILER WARNING.

Jean Vicquemare's full name is Jean-Heron Vicquemare. It's literally only mentioned in one line of dialogue below. Esprit de Corps - With an agitated gait Satellite-Officer Jean-Heron Vicquemare paces the jetty, 22 kilometres East -- in Martinaise: "What could he *possibly* be doing there for so long," he says.

Jean was (is) an equestrian cop, as in, horse-mounted. However, I found no confirmation that he particularly liked horses as a hobby-thing. Also, from this quote, I assume that Harry's Coupris 40 was *the only* car in Precinct 41. On second thought, I think "we" in this line meant for "the pair of us", as police partners. Jean Vicquemare - "For the record, you pressured us into getting it. 'It'll be cool Jean, we'll have wheels, rapid response...' I was fine being an equestrian cop. I hope you're fine driving a *bicycle*."

The actual name of Kim's dead partner, who was nicknamed "Eyes", was probably Dom or something that starts with Dom. At least this is name put on two cases in Kim's paperwork, which you can peek into if you come to Kim's room after the Tribunal without Kim. I assume that meant to happen if Kim was shot, but I theoretize that you could do that by going to sleep and then just going into the room, since Kim magically disappears after you dismiss him for the night and won't be in his room unless you knock on the outside door. Half-Finished Paperwork - This year, you can see references to: THE CHILD, DOM'S UNFINISHED; DOM'S UNFINISHED 2, MOTORCYCLE EMPTINESS, and THE MAN WITH THE HOLE IN HIS HEAD.

Homosexuality was legalized by communards in '04, which is 8 years before Kim was born. But we all known that society needs much longer to adapt to the thought. The exact details are hard to say. Encyclopedia at least says that there's no actual cults involved. The Deserter - "Lax sexual morals are a bourgeois ploy," he gargles a spit ball. "As to pederasty, the Party legalized it in '04. My Party, not your liberal masters." He spits it out on the dying coals. Encyclopedia - Just pointing it out, we're not talking about some kind of a cult with *members* here, you made it up.

Murder in Martinaise happened at March 4th, '51. Give or take a day. This, so far, is the least important piece of trivia I decided to add. You - "8. Date of death:" Kim Kitsuragi - "We're still going with March 4th, '51."

Motor carriages are controlled by two steering levers, not by a steering wheel. Not only you can see that if you close-up on Kim's Kineema, there are direct quotes about it. Abandoned Lorry - The glass on the side windows is tinted and covered with dust. You can barely make out the shape of a seat and two steering levers. Coupris Kineema - In the cabin you see a set of steering levers, a radio on a hook, a pull-out toolbox and the soft glow of the fuel pre-heater gauge.

I found where from people took "Volta do Mar" as Kim's personal skill. It's something printed on Kim's jacket you can buy as official DE merch. Admittedly, I'm unsure how to interpret this in context of my other post. I still stand by its message, but I can see why even people behind the game might be not. At least not the ones who designed the sellable jacket. Thankfully, this is an issue on which more than one opinion can peacefully coexist. Even within one head.

At some point in his career, for unknown reasons, Kim worked in Processing for a year. They are as bad as he describes them. Kim Kitsuragi - He shakes his head. "I worked as one of these *Processing guys* for a year. They are butchers and clowns. I once saw twenty CODs go misidentified in one week. Chances are slim to none that they'll find anything useful in processing."

The mystery of Kim's glasses. There's one line that says they are "diamond-shaped" despite his portrait. I've seen a comment suggesting it refers to "diamat", as in, dialectic materialism. I think this is false and explains nothing. It feels more like a typo, but why would anyone think Kim's glasses are diamond-shaped when they were round from his earliest (and only) concept art? Kim Kitsuragi - The lieutenant says nothing. You see the machine's glowing frame reflected back from his diamond-shaped glasses. You're free to proceed. Truly a mystery. The case of DIAMOND-ROUND-SHAPED GLASSES will stay unsolved forever.

Kim *isn't* a moralist. Present tense. He *was* a moralist once, but since then, he changed his mind. Now he believes in RCM. He embodies the political stance of "all ideologies suck in their own ways, let's just live our lives here and try do to a good job" (which is *heartily* approve). Kim Kitsuragi - "Yes. I *did* -- when I was younger. In my twenties I considered myself a moralist. *A blue forget-me-not, a piece of the sky*," he quotes. "They're not all that bad." Kim Kitsuragi - "But the years have changed that. I don't know *what* I believe in now...." He thinks, then changes his mind. "No. I believe in the RCM. That's enough for me."

I can't remember any more from the top of my head, but again - please, share what *you* can. Love, peace <3

[shou-jpeg]

Trick or treat! 🎃

Treat!

****

Chay pauses, empty chip packet in hand and bin lid open. He stands there, gazing down into its depths.

There is a black shirt in the bin.

It looks like one of Kim's t-shirts. Why is it in the bin?

He reaches down and pulls it out. It's clean still, the bin almost empty save for one empty yogurt container - Kim's favourite kind of breakfast.

He examines the shirt, looking for why Kim might have put it in the bin, but he finds nothing: other than a small cut in the bottom hem, the shirt looks almost new.

"Babe?" He calls, "Why is there one of your shirts in the bin?"

Kim rolls his chair back so he can look through the open home studio door. "I accidentally cut it this morning when I was cleaning my knives." He says. As if that clears up anything at all.

Chay tells him as much, holding up the shirt between them. "What? This?" He points at the little cut. "Phi why are you throwing out a shirt because of one little cut?"

Kim gives him a bewildered look. "Why would I want to wear a damaged shirt? It brings down the whole look and people would judge me."

"Judge you? P'Khun maybe, but Phi no one would even notice this little cut normally. And if it bothers you, you could just sew it up? It's so wasteful to throw away a whole shirt because of one imperfection."

Kim looks at him as if he had just suggested Kim walk about Bangkok in his underwear. "I can just buy a new one, Chay."

"You can't just drop 100 bhat on a new shirt every time you pull a thread or cut a hem, Phi."

"That shirt cost 1400 bhat."

"Fourteen hundred bhat!?" Chay yelps. That is far too much money to spend on a shirt.

"It's designer." Kim says, as if that makes the situation less insane.

"P'Kim, it doesn't even have a brand name on it."

"It's on the tag inside."

"But you can't even see the tag. Why not just buy a normal tshirt?"

"Polyester itches my skin. And I have the money, why buy cheap clothes?"

"Polyester isn't -" Chay stops himself mid sentence, taking a moment to breathe.

Kim comes from money, he reminds himself. This is hardly the first time they've clashed over something like this. If they keep going, they're not going to get anywhere, and Chay would rather not fight with his boyfriend.

"Phi," he starts, "throwing something away because of a small damage is really wasteful. There are people in the world who can't afford even a 100 bhat shirt. If you don't want it anymore, you should at least donate it to charity."

Kim looks away from him then, and Chay hates it. He hates it when Kim gets that ashamed look on his face, like there's something about himself he realises he doesn't like. He doesn't want Kim to hate himself for something he didn't even know to consider.

"How about… how about I fix it for you, Phi? I've been following these pages about visible mending and I've been dying to try some of the stitches. I could make it look really nice for you. And if you don't want to wear it out, it can be for home or when you visit me. I love seeing you wearing the stuff I make for you."

Kim still has that look on his face that Chay hates, but he also looks thoughtful and almost a little eager. He rarely says it aloud, but Chay knows that Kim really likes receiving handmade gifts from him.

"...Okay." Kim relents eventually, rolling himself back behind the wall into his studio. Chay follows after him, pressing a kiss into his hair and mumbling something sweet.

He backs off then, giving Kim some space to ruminate.

He has a project now, and he's getting a little excited the more he thinks about it. Maybe he will sew in a little leaf or two, or a flower or a little cloud. He really has been dying for an excuse to try some of these ideas. If this is going to be a thing for Kim - not wanting to wear clothes that look even slightly damaged - then Chay might have just found his canvas, as well as a way to put his mark on yet another part of Kim.

[volivolition]

Your tags in my notes give me life every time 🙏🙏thank you so much!

I would love to hear your thoughts on what might happen to Esprit post-RCM!! And yeah poor electrochem... I think it was meant for the little daily dopamine highs of life, the good food and new experiences and cute cats, but it's been hijacked by addiction into something best ignored :((

!! YESS omg of course, you make such good art AND writing i have gotta pay my respects!! hgkjh delighted to see your DE fanworks always :3 <33

!! HELL YES I WOULD LOVE TO SHARE, and its so cool to have that echem mention because it's a really good parallel: YES!! Electrochemistry is made to take care of general mesolimbic system reports and for lil everyday happy dopamine moments, little treats and smiles from kim hkjhg but it gets fucked up by addiction because HOLY SHIT life is AWFUL and DEPRESSING and surely drugs and alcohol will save us!! :')

AND SIMILARLY!! i think Esprit De Corps (literally Group Spirit or team spirit) is originally meant to be a skill of Community and Belonging, but gets fucked up by the RCM!! more under cut because this is LONG hgkjh

in my headcanons, Esprit is the youngest skill to form, but it wasn't as late as the RCM. Originally, I think that Esprit was made for the kinship Harry felt for the The Fifteenth Indotribe. Harry and seven other kids, running together as a group of friends causing trouble, this was Harry's first sense of belonging somewhere. Pretty low level and not as psychically linked, just happy to feel connected to people. When the indotribe eventually fell apart, Esprit was left fractured and dormant for a while as Harry drifted from having a sense of community. Esprit for real, at this point in time, Esprit is a ghost of a fury, low level and barely tangible.

(The thing holding them together was their attachment to the other skills, because at least they're still part of a group that way, even if Harry wasn't. Friends with Empathy, a part of the psyches, one of the 24 skills. If Esprit lacked those bonds with the other furies, its likely they would have faded entirely.)

Then Harry became a gym teacher, and Esprit returns as Esprit L'école (School Spirit :3) which helps him communicate with school staff, faculty and students. And Harry cares about this new community dearly. Deeply tender at heart, Harry loves the kids in his classes and finds camaraderie with his coworkers and wants the best for this school. Not just the best gym teacher, he's one of the best teachers in general. He puts his everything into this school, and Esprit L'école thrives in this new environment for several years.

Then they meet Dora, and shit gets fucked!! Dora convinces Harry to join the RCM, and Esprit fractures further. Unlike the Fifteenth Indotribe or the Grand Couron High School, this isn't something he finds community in. I mean, they think they do at first. The RCM is meant to help the community, right? Surely working here will bolster Esprit? But y'know how it goes, RCM culture is harsh and immoral and corrupted at its heart, for the scarce good they can do, there is so, so much bad for the community and god Esprit is hurting.

...but this is for Dora, and trying to put a bandage on a dying relationship, so Esprit De Corps forces it. Forces themselves to lean hard into the kinship with cops and to fit into police culture and conform to RCM standards, forces himself to be The Cop Skill. All of the skills at this point are going into overdrive as well, Volition tries to focus on hard work in hopes that it will pay off in the long run, Empathy tries to make himself smaller so he's not in the way, Echem is RUNNING OUT OF DOPAMINE and oh hey, this speed shit makes us a better cop, I'll take it!! dear god, the RCM is fucking over ALL THE SKILLS, everyone is struggling at this point.

And Dora leaves. Harry suffers, and so do the skills, and trying to distract from it, they just launch themselves HARDER into the RCM shit. nothing else to live for, to do, throw all reluctance to the wind, work yourself to the brink of death. 18 total years of service, 216 cases, above 90% of officers in the entire RCM, a Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor. Renowned and accomplished; this is not the community Esprit De Corps loves, but it is the one he's entrenched in, and nothing, not even amnesia, can detach him from this.

Until they quit.

honestly ive seen like! a few fics where harry quits the RCM, and always thought, "oh hey nice acab :] ...HEY WAIT WHAT'S ESPRIT DOING." so i made a fic, because a LOT of my fics are focused on the skills side of things. the humans are no longer my priority, i am a skills lover and my fucking god i gotta make my own food around here [gestures at several in-progress pasta bakes and cake batters and salad ingredients because EVERYTHING IS WIPS]

there was a first concept that was just like "DOES ESPRIT JUST DISAPPEAR???" which would have been TRAGIC and i could've made a whole cool thing about it but im alrEADY WORKING ON SEVERAL MULTI-CHAPTERS HKJHG and that's not how skills work in my canon <3

so my fic is a oneshot called "Who Are You, If Not..." because when you've made your whole life one thing and that thing gets taken away from you, who do you become? and its not very plot heavy, it's just a late-night conversation between the psyche skills.

here's a snippet from while i was working on the coding hkgjh

(since i write a lot of skills, i have this style where i put all skill actions in the [check] color and leave dialogue in white, which is a little restrictive to work with but i like how it turns out <33)

to lose a group you attached yourself to, even if they were bad for you, even if everything about it sucked. but you keep checking in, you keep instinctively going back because at least it was something. ough... i think it's scary for them, yknow? he's losing touch with what he based his existence around, and he knows its for the better, but it's... complicated hkjgh

ANYWAY THOSE ARE MY ESPRIT THOUGHTS HKJHG <33 thank you for reading if you did!! i LOVE the concept of esprit being more than just the cop skill, he's the skill of community to me!! hkjhg yay :]

[delcakoo]

i’m sure most ppl expected this so i’m not gonna make a big deal out of it but!! yes i am going on hiatus for an unspecified amount of time.

it’s honestly quite simple, i’ve just been losing interest in most aspects of kpop aside from the music, which makes writing for it a lot harder than before. i also dealt with a lot of burn out for months and still forced myself to write which only made it worse. lastly, i’m an executive of two clubs at my school this year on top of all my classes, so finding time to write would be even worse than it was before :’) !

YEAh that’s kinda it! for now my works will stay up, moots can dm me for my disc/spotify!! even if we’ve barely spoken pspsps i wanna stalk ur music cmere 🤲 a special shout out to my emoji anons too, you’re all amazing people ilysm, especially those that have been stuck with me for so long <3 (u know who u are!!)

i’ll try and check in here every so often to chat, esp if a new comeback for enha/txt happens!! love u guys and stay safe <3 you may send an ask if u have any questions!

extra stuff i wanna say to moots below! (it’s all word vomits i’m sorry)

RAVEN. MY WIFEY. my BELOVED blr wont let me tag u but you already know i adore u sm playing roblox with u is so fun even if that one banana game was kinda ass!! 💖 thank u for being so so sweet when putting up with me all the time and raising our fav corgi daughter with sm love <3 i hope u get more confidence in ur writing because your fics are always so creative and well written, and in yourself too bc a certain mf thats name starts with J and ends with N is MISSING OUT. 🙄🙄 ok im still gna be annoying u all the time so. bye ig….. smooches

@seongclb katto u deserve an award for putting up with me in dms ilysm 😞 watching the promised neverland together brought me so much joy and i still have a ss of you calling gilda a tractor ok i love u!!!! i would read your fics all day any day u are so talented and ur photography skills are amazing, i hope we get to keep in touch WE SHOULD FIND ANOTHER SHOW TO WATCH TGTHER !!!!! i need to fix your lack of anime knowledge ‼️ PLS KEEP WRITING AS WELL ENHABLR NEEDS U!!!!

@soov reirei my gf i aspire to be as confident and funny as you, you’re literal sunshine and always make my day better even with just one interaction <3 thank u for being so welcoming my first days in walmart enha and raising sushiwon with me!! as well as entertaining me by dying in genshin every 3 seconds <3 (WE NEED TO PLAY AGAIN) oh and KEEP WRITING BB. i will rise from THE DEAD WHEN IT COMES OUT OK U CAN DO THIS ML!!

@haknom kangaroo karaoke keys we may have had only a few convos but they were all so fun like PLAYING BRAWL STARS WAS HILARIOUS we ate the house down in duo showdown idc. and beta reading ur fics was such a treat esp while watching u plan new smaus every other day 🫶 also your music taste is MUWAH gimme some more recs pspsps !!! KEEP WRITING OKKK?!

@kynrki kimmy kimmy kim one of my first ever moots <3 your writing is always such a joy to read and your energy is amazing, thank you for giving me a chance when i was too shy to ask anyone else to be moots LMAO 🫶 plsplss keep writing you’re so gifted and deserve the whole world LOVEE UU

@bitehee cavvy my big sibling :((( i love u sm kshsdknd its been a while but i really hope everything has been well since you moved and you’re still being as cool as ever <3 im gonna replay a pokemon game in ur honor perhaps mystery dungeon 👁️ ? anyway i look up to u and think u are so cool, one of my fav hee stans ever ever!!! remember u have my disc if u ever wanna chat 🫂 !!!

@sunoksunny sunny <3 my other gf. i remember our first vc u had this goofy pfp i cant remember what it was but like u are so easy to talk to and funny?! and PRETTY??? your fits are always stunning and your singing is beautiful ugh the whole package fr… and. we need. to play. genshin!!! I REDOWNLOADED IT FOR U OK WE WILL DISCUSS THIS SOON!! ILY

@slytherinshua ZANNY. u are so easy to talk to we match each others energy so perfectly?!? I HOPE U AND TUALHA CONTINUE BEING THE COOLEST EVER and ur writing is top tier so pls keep going‼️ thank u for being so sweet to me as another one of my very first moots i appreciate u sm <3333

@flwrshee riri !!! we haven’t even been moots for long but i had to add u in here because u need to know that ILYSM. you’re like an adorable energetic little sister that always makes me smile T-T thank you for taking time out of your day to reblog my fics with so much sweet feedback and i wish u the absolute best always!! if u ever need anything pls dm me on disc i would love to chat with u more, and make sure to keep writing bc u have SO much talent!!!!

@wonieleles sia SIA i genuinely miss talking to u sm i NEED to come back to walmart enha :(( we don’t talk much besides our little interactions in the server but each time you make me smile. you’re so so smart and admirable, i hope you keep up the hard work bc i know you’ll go so far and HAVE MORE CONFIDENCE!! you’re so beautiful okay ily 😞🫶

@sultrybaby kel 😭😭😭💖💖 you’ve literally been a day one THANK YOU for always checking in on me even during your ridiculous NONSTOP EXAMS. 💀 another one of my big siblings on here fr you are such a real one and i care for u sm!!! i hope everything has been well for u?! pls feel free to message me for anything okay <3 I LOVE U SM thank u for sticking with me all this time 🫂🫂

i have so many moots so i can’t write smthn for everyone but i love u all okay <3 AGAIN if u wanna keep in touch thru spotify or discord dm me muwah

[rainbowdaisy13]

Just watched Miss Americana for the first time after learning the lore around the 2019 coming out plans and it’s so much more heartbreaking with that in mind. At the beginning where she says she didn’t have anyone to celebrate the success of 1989 with, like ‘shouldn’t there be someone standing next to me?’ I can’t help but think the reveal was meant to be that that person was always standing in the shadows because she couldn’t be up there with her. And the old diaries and her saying that she always just wanted to be a good girl and will take whatever amount of success until society won’t tolerate her being successful anymore… she seemed so scared there. At the end when she’s asked what it feels like to not be silent anymore, she’s just so elated when she says ‘fucking awesome’. To think she thought she’d be out when people see this 😭😭😭

And all those cute home videos where you never see the other person… it feels so heavily edited it makes me so sad :( Motion capture paint me in a bad light indeed… I need her next film to be more truthful!

Yeah Miss Americana was such a mindfuck as someone who was in the Kaylor/Gaylor space prior to its release. I was convinced (maybe naively) that this was the Coming Out. The whole documentary turns out to be a big nothing burger—like when we really think about it, a rich famous white woman making an entire documentary about how she finally felt brave enough to make a IG post saying she’s democrat…..it very much gives “people are dying Kim”

I’m still of the belief that Miss Americana was always meant to be a two parter—with “The Heartbreak Prince” being Part 2. When in life has Taylor ever used half of a song title without there being a specific reason?

We may never know for sure if the whole doc was 180-ed to be about “politics” instead of her coming out, but what was released definitely felt off and not genuine like we were told it was gonna be

[mytragedyperson]

Thoughts I had while reading TCF chapter 10

The idea of little 5 year old Raon Miru being so desperate to escape his tormentors that he cuts into his own life force still makes me so incredibly sad. The idea that in canon there’s a world where Raon Miru not only died, but was killed by Choi Han. Can you imagine if Choi Han found out that this could’ve happened. I don’t think he’d ever forgive himself even if Raon 100% would. God this book has some sad moments, but even the novel within the novel is so sad. I know that’s a doomed world but this is actually insane. I also feel like this book does a really good job of exploring the butterfly effect or something similar. Literally one person changed, was transmigrated into the world, but because this Cale was different he made different choices, and each small choice he made, caused another change, some smaller than others, but all ultimately leading to their victory. Let’s talk about how him saving Raon changed a lot. For one thing, I don’t think, without him, he would’ve known Alberu was a dark elf. He might’ve been told or found out, but it would’ve taken longer, and he might’ve reacted differently. Because he had Raon, he knew Alberu was using magic to change his appearance, and had an aura or something that was different to the rest of his family. Then, in the forbidden forest, Raon recognised the dead mana or something, so when he next met Choi Han, he told Cale or something. Sorry, I’ve not gotten to that point in my reread yet so I might be misremembering but that was the gist. But his lack of a bad reaction to Dark Elves, allowed him to meet and form some sort of alliance and bond with them, while also improving the bond he had with Alberu. And there are so many other times where Raon or one of the kids were helpful, and The Birth of A Hero world didn’t have them. In fact, that could’ve been the start of the world being doomed, those kids, and Taylor, and Paseton dying. Just by bringing Kim Rok Soo to this world, things changed, but he had no real way of knowing, when he saved these people, the impact it would have, the knowledge it would give them. He just didn’t want to see kids, or anyone else, suffer. And just by refusing to let people suffer or die if he could help them, he gained allies, and resources, and information that they didn’t have in The Birth of a Hero, or if they did, they learned it too late. The fact that having one person change, the fate of the world changed. Each small choice, each small change, each time he does the thing he decides to do, it leads to a much bigger change and a much bigger impact later on, even if just because now all these people he’s helped have a common ally that they trust and respect. God I could and probably will go into more detail about this later on, but yeah. Moving on for now.

Also Choi Han was right that the dragon’s eyes being full of pain and sorrow but its mouth still smiling is sad. This is his first time being outside the cave he was kept on, he’s seeing the world for the first time, but he’s lost his rationality. He’s happy to be free but he hurt and lost himself in the process. And then you imagine Raon Miru (that means happy dragon, right?) the same adorable little dragon that threatens to kill everyone and destroy everything if anything happens to Cale. It’s heartbreaking, that’s heart breaking. Cale needs to hug Raon extra tight for me because he deserves all the love and affection, plus extra for the version of him that never got any.

I’m so happy Cale went out of his way to save Raon. Like, he didn’t have to do that, he chose to and it was the right thing to do, but so many other people would’ve probably not cared. This is another example of Cale being a good person and refusing to admit it. Let’s keep note of that, misunderstandings, every time someone just doesn’t question something, honestly everything, let’s just keep a note of everything. It’s not even like he can say this is selfish because he doesn’t plan to keep him, he literally gains nothing from this if everything goes according to plan, and he doesn’t care, he does it anyway. Also him saying that he can use the kids to justify adopting them will never not be funny, adorable and kinda sad, because he can’t admit, even to himself, that he just wants to keep them around.

I forgot this was still the interview scene. Damn, a lot of shit is mentioned in this scene, like from the scene with Hans before the interview to the end, we get a lot of information.

Also, the interview being about whether Choi Han can protect people and then the job actually not requiring him to. Beautiful. That thing I said yesterday about the interview scene being good for Choi Han because it gives him someone who believes in him and respects him still stands. But his first job more or less being an escort mission of find and bring these two people to me, with the two people being capable of protecting themselves? It takes the pressure off Choi Han to have to protect them and builds his confidence and belief in himself, while also providing him with a support system of some sort. And Cale doesn’t intend for this but it happens. And the fact that Choi Han, not only succeeds in the job, but also helps save the other wolf children? That probably did wonders for his confidence, for his belief in himself. Ugh, it’s so good.

Also, Cale claiming in his thoughts, to himself that he’s just gonna let Choi Han, Lock, and Rosalyn deal with the terror incident, only to make a whole plan to stop the attack. He’s so good at scamming people he even scams himself. That’s beautiful.

And then he makes it a secret between just them. He’s essentially telling Choi Han he trusts him with this more than anyone else. No wonder he can never get rid of Choi Han after this. And the best part is he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, he doesn’t know the impact it has on Choi Han.

Also Choi Han is just kinda precious in a way I can’t explain. Like he seems like he needs a hug, but specifically a hug from Cale and his kids and Rosalyn and Lock. Tbf the entire Calefam kinda needs a hug.

Also for some reason I just got the image of early days!Hans hearing from Deruth he has to give Cale more money and just cursing in his head the entire time he goes because what is he even doing with all this money? He’s not spending it all on alcohol, he’s not drunk enough for that? He hasn’t been back to Billos’ shop and then remembering hearing from someone that Beacrox saw him buying a fuckton of bread and medicinal herbs and going into the slums and being like did he really spaen that much money on bread? How much bread did he buy to be spending that much money? Also why does Deruth give him his allowance in gold coins and cheques exclusively? No wonder he doesn’t wait for change and just says keep it, that would be a bitch to figure out for everyone involved. Also I’ll be honest I don’t get how cheques work in general but, like, he goes to three different bakeries for bread, and I know he paid for that with coins, was that first gold coin for the rest of the week? It was, right? Because otherwise my question was gonna be how does using a cheque at 3 different places work but the answer to that is it doesn’t, right?

God I love Ron just tormenting Cale with lemon things. And then he gets Beacrox and I believe later recruits Hans to help keep it going even when he’s not there? Or maybe Choi Han? I can’t remember who but I know he told someone to do it while he was looking for information on Arm. Maybe one of the kids? That would explain why he didn’t just say he doesn’t like lemon things. I don’t know. I’ll revisit this when I rearead that bit and remember who it was. Ron’s already admitted he knows something’s up. I feel like this is an attempt to figure out why he’s changed at first and then it just becomes their thing.

Also his plan to foist everyone off on Choi Han has already failed because Choi Han already knows he’s not leaving Cale, not if he can help it. So, sucks for Cale but, sorry, you’re already stuck with the troublesome people. But in all seriousness that’s probably for the best because they all need each other.

I’ve finally finished this chapter. I’ll be back with my thoughts with my thoughts during chapter 11, if I have any.

[herarcadewasteland]

Curious, Darling?

A/: Many many hugs and boops to the lovely @kookslastbutton for their page title and giving me the go-ahead to write a Taehyung fic inspired by it and dedicated to it! ♥

-office!au, enemies to lovers (ish...)

-Slightly Yandere!Kim Taehyung x Reader

It's decidley a little messy and fast but its 2am and my brain was working too fast.

JK Ver. Yoongi Ver.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stalking through the halls, you seethed. His carefree laughter echoed through your head as you turned corners with the result of Taehyung's latest prank cradled in your trembling arms. You had been going back and forth with Taehyung since highschool, the pranks gaining him popularity and causing you to lose friends. It had taken a large turn when you had both graduated college and got accepted into one of the biggest companies with him standing at your side, smug smirk in place as it always was when he regarded you. The pranks you exchanged slowly ramped up until you dyed and cut his hair when he was out cold after a night of drinking. He had gone way too far this time though, the prank exceeding the worst you had pulled on him, which was the hair thing although he managed to make it look sexy just as he did everything else. 

Walking into your office this morning, you were sipping your favourite drink and wearing your best shirt for the presentation when your eyes landed on the colour-coded pile of that same presentation in rips all around the room, the spray painted ‘V’ on your office window causing you to drop your cup in shock. The two of you had done many many things to each other in the form of pranks, but ruining work projects that had taken a year to perfect and create… it was the last prank you would accept. So here you were, storming past concerned co-workers with your project in your arms as you set out for the man himself. 

His laugh guided you straight to him as you shouldered through the meeting room door,

“KIM TAEHYUNG.”

Conversation stopped as did his laughter as your anger cut through it all, heads turning to observe your red face and furrowed brows as you glared at Taehyung with the heat of hell in your eyes. You made eye contact with everyone but him, each person taking the hint and shuffling out of the conference room until you were left with the culprit. An angry huff left you as you dropped your armful of your ripped project on the table in front of him as he sat with his ankle resting on his knee, hand rubbing his lips as he watched you carefully. 

“What the fuck is this?! This was for today! You knew it was for today and so did everyone else! So pray tell, why the fuck is my project in shreds with your fucking penname sprayed on my windows! There is no one, and I mean no-one else that would’ve done this.”

His huffed laugh broke you from your angry arrangement of the pieces sitting before you, your head snapped up to face him as he leaned back further into his wheeled chair. Was he infuriatingly hot and causing conflicting emotions as he stared you down through hooded eyes? Abso-fucking-lutely. That didn’t stop you from rounding the table in anger, his chair turning with you as you approached. 

“Something wrong?”

You scowled as you took the last steps towards him, his head tilting up slightly to watch your face for emotion as he licked his lips slowly. Your anger won over any arousal you were feeling because of him and his stupidly perfect face, your hands pushing roughly into his solid chest. The scrape of the chair wheels making you smirk as he rolled back into the wall from the force of your shove. His eyebrows raised in surprise as you approached him again, his hands resting on the arms as he pushed himself from the chair. He was taller than you, that was for sure, but being stronger than people gave you credit for allowing you the element of surprise. So you took that last step, staring into his hypnotizing chocolate eyes as you shoved him back a step.

“Say you did it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, he smirks. 

He fucking smirked at you when his penname was in orange paint on your windows. Your face heated with rage as he tilted his head at you, his fluffy hair gently framing his darkened eyes as you landed a hard punch to his chest. Taehyung huffed as the air left him, your eyes widening as he barely reacted before a hand grasped your own. You gasped as he tugged you around him and into the chair he was previously occupying, your hands finding the armrests as he leaned over you, his large hands caging your own on the chairs arms. 

“You know exactly what you did, Kim Taehyung. You’ve gone too far.”

“Oh no, have I gone too far? Let me rectify my wrongs against poor little you immediately.”

His tone was clear and enraged you further. He had the gall to mock you when you no longer had a presentation for a promotion you had been waiting for for years now. You wrestled your hand from under his, a sharp clap echoing around you as Taehyung's head snapped to the side. The shock he showed allowed you a window to push him away and escape the room with your precious shards of presentation. He would get it now. You just had to figure out how you would go about it.

—-------

Taehyung's misdeed was over a week ago now. He had gotten the promotion because you had no presentation. Now, he had power over you. A larger, secured office and even a secretary that rumours had started round saying he fucked her in the mens washroom one lunch break. Now it was much harder for you to enact your plan. Distracting Elizabeth was easy enough, all you had to do was tell her that Park was waiting for her in conference room 38 and off she went. Taehyung was supposed to be in a big meeting so all you had to do was look for a spare key and then lock the door behind you to cover your tracks. Easy enough. The key was in an unlocked drawer in Elizabeth’s desk, hidden away under the schedule folder you had gathered your copy of Taehyung’s from. Opening the door to his office with a relieved sigh, you shut the heavy door as quietly as you could, your eyes scanning the office as soon as the door was locked behind you. 

Files scattered over his desk, his laptop open and running, his windows curtained and opened slightly to let in the breeze you could only get on the 77th floor. Rushing over to his clearly organized mess, you leafed through the many documents, your eyes darting from the papers to the door as your hands trembled. All you needed was his budget request. Then you could fuck him over like he fucked you over. It was simple. Find the page, search his laptop for the unfilled form and replace his numbers with lower ones. While it could jeopardize your job, he would be at fault for submitting low numbers for his request. 

“Yes! Finally!”, you pulled the sheet from its spot frantically.

Stepping over to his laptop, you searched the systems for the sheet when you had an even better idea. Turning back to the files, you failed to hear the door opening and closing, his light steps approaching you as you made a mess of his desk. He sat and watched you search through the papers with a smirk as he leaned against the wall across from you, your gaze laser focused on the things in-front of you. Finding the new page, you smirked, unknowing of the danger you had put yourself in. 

“Curious, darling?”, his deep voice made your heart stop as his hand ghosted over your shoulder. He had managed to make it across the entire office to stand behind you and you hadn’t even noticed. That was a kind of embarrassing you never thought you’d feel. But here you were, feeling it and Taehyung’s hand as it crawled across your collarbone smoothly to wrap around your neck. 

“Taehyu-”, you gasped before his hand tightened around your neck, cutting off your words. 

“We’ve been at this for years. Years, Y/N. Isn’t it about time to accept that you’ll never best me at our pranks?”

You shook your head, hand wrapping around his as you turned in your spot to face him. His fluffy brown hair fell into his sharp eyes as he watched you take in the position. Your back against his desk, his hand around your neck, basically holding your own hand at the same time. He corralled you further into his desk, his free hand drawing distracting circles on your side as you watched him carefully.

“I’ll beat you this time. You won’t win.”

His laugh washed across your face, mint greeting your sense as he chewed on nothing with a confident smirk. You were sure you would beat him. You had to. It was one of your last motivations to not hand in your resignation and join Jeon Industries instead of staying under Min Corporations. 

“You’ve already lost. So when will you notice how much I love you, darling?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, his hand leaving your neck to trace your cheekbone and run lightly over your parted lips. 

“Wha-”, you cleared your throat of the shock blocking it, “What do you mean, Taehyung? You don’t love me. You’ve shown me so many times you hate me. You ripped up my presentation!”

He nodded casually, hand playing with a stray bundle of hair that had fallen from your messy ponytail during your search for revenge. 

“I did. But we’ve been doing this for years. Do you not remember the times I would leave you notes in your locker in high school, telling you how I felt?”

“Those were anonymous, how was I supposed to know that was you?! I thought that was Hoseok! Or maybe even Seokjin… I- why?”

“What do you mean why? You’re perfect for me. I’m perfect for you. I read your diary when I was in your office that week. I know what you think of me.”, his breath tickled your ear as he leaned in to whisper his last secret to you.

“Why would you… That's supposed to be private!”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone how much my voice turns you on… or how much you daydream about fucking me seven days a week and telling me you love me.”

Your face heated with a blush as he chuckled in your ear, his voice deepened further as he pushed his body against yours further. His hands guided you into comfort as he whispered random compliments into your ear, your eyes closing as you thought about it all. 

“At least let me take you on a date. Just one for now, if you like it, leave your number on my desk the day after. If not, just tell me to fuck off and I’ll leave you alone until you accept your feelings towards me. Sounds fair?”

You nodded slowly, his hands circling you in a gentle hug as he hummed in content. It couldn’t be the worst thing in the world, a little harrowing at times you were sure, but overall it could be worth losing your revenge. So you melted into the hug with a sigh as he laughed about something in his head.

You’d see in the week after the incident that it really wasn’t that bad as he fed you sushi from his plate while you traded for pieces you liked and he didn’t. Sipping on boba while the sun set on the horizon over the clear blue waters of the beach afterwards. Maybe you didn’t get the promotion that would change your life, but marrying Kim Taehyung in the following years was definitely more than enough to make up for it all.