#maybe I’ll do something higher concept later

[hhayfever]

I’m stupid, because drawing a pup hood (at least from this angle) was incredibly easy. So I was worried for nothing.

[throwaway-yandere]

𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒐𝒗𝒐 (Yandere!Dainsleif/Reader)

a/n: I love Dainsleif with every fiber of my being, do you guys know that? Anyways, just like all Dain-fics, this one has illustrations (I hope they give Fairytale book vibes). I’d like to thank @meimeimeirin cuz this was an idea we were laughing abt at 4am and somehow I made something out of it HAHA.

Unreliable Synopsis: “Fairytale worlds follow fairytale laws. There’s always a protagonist burdened with impossible tasks who will experience the rule of three, witness transformations, find talking animals, and learn the power of kept promises. So, before you embark on your journey, "princess" (Y/n), have you heard of the Ugly Duckling’s tale?” 

CW: light yandere themes, fairytale!au just for the hell of it. HURT/NO COMFORT. Late/Advanced happy birthday, Dainsleif.

"The destined knight is late," the great dragon clicked his tongue. One would expect that an inferior creature such as an ugly duckling would quake and shrink while perched on the Dragon King's hand. But their expression was nothing short of serene. There is a veneer of calm that the great Dragon Ongri did not overlook. 

The "duckling" had the eyes of an old gentleman with worldly disinterests. 

He was longing for death.

𝕺nce upon a time, there was an ugly duckling who was abandoned by both their siblings and mother. Oftentimes, he was pecked by his peers, sneered into thinking his big head and scarred face. were both a reason for his survival and misery all the same. The ugly duckling thought himself unloveable no matter where he went. The small waters he was born in had no room for miscreation, and when he traveled to an elderly's house elsewhere, the chickens thought him useless and undesirable. Normally, the story would've been a happier bedtime story if he had gone to meet the Royal birds and begged for them to end his life. Maybe then, he would've realized that he had not been a duck but a swan all along. But alas, our poor ugly "duckling" found his feet at the hands of the great Dragon King- Ongri's mercy.

"Will you kill me?" The ugly duckling asked calmly. "You need to release your anger, and I can be but one of many casualties."

"I am not a creature of impulse."

The divine dragon scowled. "After Bars' and Fein' deaths, the concept that this realm dubs as Time and Moments is now under my jurisdiction. I've no use for wasted breaths."

As it happens, the dragon was in a troubling situation. There is an immediate need for a substitute. Sensing the urgency of fate's call, Ongri unleashed an ancient incantation. Feathers singed into flesh, wings clipped into arms, and in a burst of radiant light, the "ugly duckling" was reborn as a human knight. His body had scar-like spots from the Divine Dragon infusing him with magic, albeit the metamorphosis was far from flawless. Even as a human, he was imperfect. Mysterious dark blue "burn lines" traced his neck and arms. With the new human's eyes still closed, the dragon spoke to him, the last for a long time: "Forget your past and this whole affair." He commanded. "Go, find and protect your princess."

It mattered not if this was the last breath Ongri would tell him, besides…

When a god applies a curse, it takes effect at a higher level of reality than the person themselves.

“(Y/n)…��

“It’s me, Dainsleif… Can you… still remember my voice?”

“…”

“I… understand that once a person reaches this stage of the curse, their senses get muted. The remnants of those who once dwelled here must have been the catalyst of your ailments worsening..”

“… I’m sorry. I am incredibly sorry that I found you at such a later time. It did not occur to me that you would be here in the Chasm.”

“In our next fairy tale, I’ll—”

“No… I cannot subject you to any more empty promises… But know this:”

“I will keep you safe from now on.”

“So, do not leave my side ever again.”

And the new knight opened his eyes.

Memories of the dragon vanished from his mind. He was now a being of larger flesh and bones without recollections of his past. Should another human take his shoes, they would know that it was a fresh awakening. His first breath tasted like rich champagnes. Golden. Even the sun shone in such resplendent light that made the world seemingly revolve around him.

His legs wobbled. Sliding onto the grassy area, he caught a sight of his hair. Blonde. Like hay— they were golden threads silkily strewn about. He soon noticed that the rest of his complexion was a light pinkish-hued color, as did the hands that prevented his head from taking a serious fall.

The reborn “ugly duckling” may have forgotten why, but he felt alienated from his own body. And he has the Divine Dragon to thank for his new vessel and plain armor.

“Help! Someone, HELP!!!”

His ears perked up. It was a scream with a fervor of a “damsel in distress”. Vent clamor as she may with her whole throat, nothing would come out of it.

But fate will not allow this untimely demise. Quick on his new feet, the new knight dashed towards the sound. No cavalry— just a single determined mind. After running for some time, the unnamed knight did not come across any souls. 

That is, until he found the young maiden he was “fated” to save. She was on the ground, clinging into her wrist as though she burned her hand. In the ground laid an iron sword, begging to be drawn.

At the sight of the wild animal bearing down on her with frightening speed, the “knight” took her weapon and charged towards the scene, raising it in front of the menacing beast. He gazed at the bear that towered over him, displaying its slobbery maw and long, pointed claws. The untamed creature snarled and dropped to strike. 

Perhaps the Divine Dragon saw his noble pursuits, perhaps he was naturally gifted in combat, but the bear was unable to rake the man’s body. Miraculous it was that not a single nasty laceration was left on his person. He lacked the strength to take it down in one fell swoop, but the speed he had made up for it. Like swans that swerved through the wind and flow of water, he dodged all its attacks. With a few strikes from his blade, the bear falls...

He breathed out, shaking in his boots though he tried not to show it. Straightening his body, he met the maiden’s gaze. His blue eyes met hers in a piercing gaze, nearly taunting her as his new opponent. The young lady exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

“T-Thank… you…”

Subconsciously, he circled the shoulder that recklessly swung the sword around. The new “knight” tilted his head. For what? He wished to ask, but words did not come out.

“For saving me, of course.”

The maiden gracefully stood. Her garments had lost some of their value due to the soil and dirt, but she herself was not affected in the same way. She exuded a fierceness that suggested anyone who ventured to hurt her would be receiving more than they bargained for. Instead of tucking her hair to the back, she pulled them forward, hiding her ears.

“Do allow me to introduce myself, kind knight.” She cleared her throat softly. “You may call me Princess (F/n), daughter of King Regan and current crown princess— heir to the throne upon the late Prince Pierre’s demise. May I know your name?”

…

… Silence…

The princess tilted her head. 

"... Does my savior have a name?"

"... Name?"

The young man paused.

He couldn't remember his name. In actuality, he had absolutely no memory of anything. His mind was a bottomless pit with little to no air. With wide eyes, his hand moved slowly to around his neck. The act of conjuring up his supposed name left him terrified for reasons unbeknownst to him.

Does he… not have a name?

“... You must be joking.” The princess deadpanned. “How can one not have a name? Were you not baptized under the Divine Dragon’s light?”

She sounded incredibly upset by this fact. Whatever she ranted on about, it must be a human tradition. 

“Do you not know how important names are—” The princess sighed, “Never mind. I shall assume you are one of those orphaned folks. Besides, if what you say is true, bestowing you a new name is a power much more potent.”

“I… want a name.” The man spoke up rather shyly, voice almost inaudbile.

"I know, I know… Huh, I usually take names rather than gifting them," the princess chuckled. She seemed wholly aware of his dilemma. "Hmm… Let me see…"

She examined his features closely. He was dressed in the traditional knightly fashion, albeit slightly altered. The holy kingdom's knights, of course, never donned masks—especially not half of one. He was strange, but there was an innocent genuineness about him. The blonde man doesn't have a polished appearance. He looked like a lost duckling.

It was rude to stare at the peculiar blue wounds on his face far too long so the princess’ eyes trailed above his hair.

"Leaf…" She pointed upward. "Leaf."

The knight blinked.

What a peculiar sounding name.

"Understood." He nodded and bowed politely. "I shall now be referred to as Leaf."

"No, I meant—" The princess cut herself off and chuckled. "Oh, well. I meant the leaf on one's head. But certainly the name Leaf does suit you fine."

“Do place your iron sword away, Leaf.” She added, cringing. “It is unbecoming of a knight to point a sword to their princess.”

“May… May I ask as to why you were attacked by a bear?”

“Quite bold of you to inquire a royal about a recent assassination attempt,” she humored him with a smile. He safely assumed she would not enact punishment for his assertiveness. “If you must satiate your curiosity, it is exactly that. An assassination attempt. They believed since my brother had fallen so easily, I myself must be an easy game since I adore wandering around the forest.”

“And they seem to be right,” Leaf muttered, wittily referring to the incident prior that arranged this fated meeting.

“Oh?” She scoffed, her polite smile remaining intact. “You’ve quite the tongue. Are you from the valleys?”

“I do not know.”

She squinted.

“Hmm, I see.” The princess exhaled and shook her head disapprovingly. “Then I am to presume that I should also use my wits to cleverly weave a background for you much like your name, Leaf?”

“You wish for me to serve you, that I can tell, and for that to happen I would need your equal assistance,” Leaf spoke solemnly. “I do not recall anything of my past, but you can always make one for me.”

Leaf knelt in front of her. Silence ensued.

“You are deadly calm for a man who wished his history be erased…” The princess muttered.

Leaf was a strange man indeed. He was perceptive, yet he spoke like fate’s pawn. That is to say, the princess noticed he only ever says the truth. His countenance conveyed little desire to adopt rebellious ideologies. To be honest, there was nothing in those contrivedly starry eyes. It was bare. A false sky. 

It almost made the princess worry for his lack of self-preservation had she not been the same. Lies were always at her hands’ disposal, and she greatly hoped it was not what her heart would contain in her last pages. She didn’t wish for a life of deceit. The princess's survival solely comes from her ability to “doublespeak”.

“I see your promise. You are made of self-mettle. Although your blunt tongue may mar your fortunes sooner before you could gaze upon His Majesty, I wish to prescribe you with new duties.”

She took a deep breath.

“This directive shall not be withdrawn in the name of the Divine Dragon. Leaf, a young knight from the Valley of Gaciea who will shortly be appointed retainer to the Royal Highness, Princess (F/n), kneels before me. Until the end of time, he shall be my sword, and I will be his master. Will you keep your word and uphold the oath— the promise?”

“I will.”

Not a moment did he hesitate. Not for a second did he think there was more to life than this. It was nearly bitter. His life sounded so simple to her tongue.

But it was a contract nonetheless. 

A promise that must be fulfilled.

“I find myself stirred in restless days without you my by side. You haunted me so diligently this past 500 or so years.”

“Humor me, won’t you… my b-beloved?”

“Why have you hid away from me? Why did I have to find you in this state? Furred and mute. Didn’t you take a breath to think about how much your pain would mean a greater weight for me? Have you not a second thought about how much it pains me to see you like this— bearing the fangs of the abyss and the claws of the cursed…?”

“The only sigh of relief I can release is that at least in this new sky, Ongri— no, he calls himself Zhongli these days— would get between us no more.”

“This new fairy tale… For how long do you expect me to keep this promise, (Y/n)? How many more stories must we get through for us to reach a happy ending?”

“Please… I’m begging you… Say something!!!”

“…”

“… Speak… Please… Anything…”

“Tell me about our past rendezvous. Seduce me with your musings. Anything… can't you try, just for this special day?”

“Please… don’t turn your mask away from me…”

“Do you find time to flow as quick as the waters by the stream? I am inclined to believe this sentiment. I find it astonishing that we’ve spent eleven or so moonshines joined at a hip. Time ages us but we are none the wiser.”

Leaf grunted, heaving Princess (F/n)’s inventory as she spoke. He didn’t seem distressed by the weight and his princess appeared not at all troubled as well. At least, that what it seemed on the surface. Royals must make their superiority known. Leaf knew (F/n) wanted to also carry some of the bags, but he refused.

There were several notions Leaf refused that noon. When (F/n) entertained the thought of going out as herself and by herself, he disapproved with haste. Leaf had to know where she’s going, who she was going with, what she’s going to wear— just about everything. His voice alone overwhelmed the princess enough that you’d mistake him for the king. The knight practically ordered what she would wear and what route she’d have to take if she wished to see the ongoing festival. 

Being herself was a safety hazard and being alone by herself was a death wish.

To his eyes, at least. He had always been a twinge too overprotective.

It was a hectic morning with a picture-perfect, almost cliche scene of bustling streets and frolicking kids on a medieval setting. While children would swerve around adults' legs to avoid getting tagged, adults walked slowly to hear each gossip. One kid had nearly hit the princess herself, but Leaf would not allow it.

Leaf pulled (F/n) away by putting an arm over her waist. The smell of her sweet perfume surprised him. Her smell reminded him of the forest. For the knight who professed to guard her innocence, her warm body lightly pressed against his was a fleeting but almost immoral moment. He set her down slowly, gasping quietly. The princess chose not to draw attention to the troubled expression on her most reliable retainer.

It was better not to acknowledge his growing romantic interests.

To her, he is only a sword.

Even if he is a friend, at the end of the day, he’s only a weapon to be used.

The princess quickly pulled the cape down further to hide her face— mostly her ears. For reasons unknown to him, she seemed to find that part of herself worthy of great insecurity.

He cleared his throat, face dusted in a pink hue.

“You say that time affects you, but you haven’t aged a day.”

The princess laughed.

“Finally, a compliment from a man as stoic as you? Oh, what a day to rejoice!”

Leaf shook his head with a small smile.

“I had given you one on several occasions.”

“That may be true, but random bouts of flattery from you are scarce.” The princess hummed. “I vaguely recall how getting anything out of you was like trying to get a frozen little duckling to quack. Who am I? Your mother duck?”

The smirk on his face was quick, but (F/n) definitely saw it.

Several staff once questioned Leaf’s ability to speak. Many, including (F/n)’s father, were convinced he was mute. Everyone in the castle knew of the princess’s peculiar tastes and thought Leaf’s recruitment was a mere byproduct. His masked appearance and strange scars added more fuel to those rumors. When Leaf defended (F/n) from another assassination attempt in front of the king and inquired about her condition, King Regan nearly toppled from where he stood. 

After being bombarded with questions, Leaf merely said he refrained from speaking since he saw no use if he wasn't talking to the princess herself. (F/n) still finds it absurd that she has to give orders for him to talk to other people.

For Leaf, it was simple: he just didn’t see the point of forming other interpersonal relationships.

(F/n) was the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Only her.

Only she is worthy to serve and protect.

“You truly are like a little duckling following his mother’s tail,” Princess (F/n) sighed. “But you have vastly improved in our time together. That, I can commend.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Leaf laughed softly, mocking her tone in his signature subtle way. “Oh, what a day to rejoice.”

She playfully gave him an elbow nudge. “Do not copy me, Leaf.”

“My apologies.”

Princess (F/n) was meandering around because the harvest festival was drawing closer. With her own eyes, the princess intended to see how her people were faring. Rarely did she change into a more "common" outfit and styled her hair with simplicity. Though, if you were to ask Leaf, seeing her in her most simple clothes made her far more youthful than the garbs and crown that wrinkles her smile to a frown.

“Madame, would you be interested in buying your lover here a brooch?”

Both of them stilled as a merchant called out. The undercover royal pointed to herself.

“Yes, yes, of course I’m talking to you, gorgeous!” The merchant grinned. He had silver hair that slightly covered one of his blue eyes. “Do you want matching rings instead? We’re selling for fifty percent off!”

Leaf’s gaze was stern. Despite his reservations, he knew the merchant as Alfstan, another young knight who hailed from a family of vendors. Two moonshines ago, Leaf was (forcefully) placed on training duty and had the fortune of mentoring this aspiring knight. 

Mind you— nothing was particularly dubious of his wares. Leaf just simply despised having another man brazenly take your attention away. He did not find their previous exchanges pleasant. Not when Alfstan often joked about replacing his position one day.

What hubris.

While he busied himself glaring at the poor man, the princess awkwardly laughed and dismissively waved a hand. “Oh, no, he and I— we are not—”

“Haha, I know, I was just pulling your leg, Your Highness.” Alfstan grinned, giving Leaf a quick nod. “Morning, Sir Leaf! Were you showing the princess around?”

“Shhh! Be quiet!” (F/n)'s eyes widened.

He protectively wrapped an arm around (F/n) again, this time far more confidently. 

“Yes.” Leaf spoke, voice as solid as his resolve.

“Mind if I tag along?”

His stare sharpened. “I would very much mind, now return to your stall.”

The princess shook her head, poorly judging her retainer’s possessive words as acts of protection. Instead, she dwelled on their attire. “Drats, was our disguise that fragile?”

Alfstan assessed her from top to bottom, which made Leaf even more tense. “Eh, you’re really gorgeous that no cloak can hide your beauty, Your Highness.”

“I have to agree,” Leaf said stiffly, clearing his throat. “Perhaps I should hide her in a hay sack. WIthout your prying eyes.”

(F/n) raised an eyebrow. “And what? And be suspected of kidnapping me instead?” 

Leaf shrugged. “Does that sound like an offense I would commit?”

Alfstan rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. Besides, the only way you wouldn’t get caught is if you hid her in something as small as a teapot.”

And he would be right. But it will take eons to prove those suspicions as truth.

“Going back to your wares, Sir Alfstan,” (F/n) digressed. “These iron-framed tassels, are they made by your hand?”

Alfstan's respect for the princess grew.

“Yes, how did you come up with that conclusion? Most passersby believed I had ‘em commissioned from the East.”

(F/n) smiled crookedly. Leaf caught a glimpse of discomfort, but it was gone in a bat of an eye.

“I… I admire your skill with molding iron.” To the untrained ear, (F/n) sounded flustered and embarrassed. To Leaf, he was certain that she was unsure of herself. “It is commendable, how you smith your very own weapons, that is. I know many of our soldiers come to you when their blades are chipped.”

“You’ve heard of my skills?!” Alfstan beamed proudly. “Really?!”

The princess nodded. “Y-Yes…”

It was odd. Despite her high praise, her wariness remained. She looked at the blonde man. “He had also made your new Ulfberht sword too, right? It certainly pierces much better than his old one.”

Leaf didn’t bother with a reply, Alfstan made it for him.

“Yes, Your Highness. I thought it would make for a thoughtful birthday present!”

“Speaking of presents…” The princess gazed down, analyzing the items he sold once more. “What do you recommend as a gift for someone important?”

If Alfstan was elated by her earlier compliments, he could practically jump over the moon at her newest proposition.

“Oh? OH?!?”

Leaf gave (F/n) a strict yet gentle glare.

“Your Highness…”

“I still won’t let it slide!” (F/n) huffed. “I couldn’t possibly be satisfied with just new sets of armor. Alfstan, by my order, suggest a pleasant gift for the stubborn knight beside me.”

“On it!”

Without delay, the two bent down to select the ideal accessory for the man who vehemently refused. Alfstan was the only one touching the gems and (F/n) refrained from doing so. Tiny flecks of gold and iron infused the tassels, but she feared she would handle the stones carelessly.

Leaf palmed his face with one hand as the two chattered. Still, despite Leaf’s disapproving looks, he finds (F/n)’s enthusiasm to make him happy a wonderful notion in itself. To think that (F/n) would continue to insist on a present for a birthday that had since passed… She was more stubborn than he was.

“So troublesome…” He muttered with a soft smile. “I see no point in this, Princess (F/n). Serving you is a miracle enough itself—”

“Halt! Speak no more, Sir Leaf!” (F/n) exclaimed. “There! That one, Alfstan— that gem resembles his eyes, does it not?!”

“You have great tastes, Princess (F/n)!” Alfstan nodded eagerly like a motivated student. “That does look like his shade of blue— and so quick to find it among the pile, too! Are you sure you’re not some sort of custodian of natural treasures?”

Princess (F/n)’s awkward and stifled laughter can be heard again.

“What? Haha, what nonsense.” She shook her head. “Everyone calls me Princess (F/n), any other name would surely sound terrifying and mismatched.”

A nonanswer, but that made the conversation more humorous.

“Here you go!”

Alfstan reached his hand out with the tassel. (F/n) stared at him, silent and unsure. He blinked and snapped his fingers.

“Oh, right, you need a box— my deepest apologies, I was too caught up in the moment!”

The princess sighed in relief.

Leaf crossed his arms. “You’re doing well for your first time setting up a stall, Alfstan.”

“This isn’t my first and you know it, Sir!”

(F/n) laughed.

The merchant wrapped the gift she brought with care. The hush looms large around them as the merchant boastfully goes about his business, his tone comforting to her ears. The Princess walks over to the gift box once the merchant has finished. She can't help but smile because she can feel the tassel inside.

“Not exactly a surprise since Sir Leaf is here, but the packaging adds some charm, right?” Alfstan asked.

The princess couldn’t hold back a smile as she looked at the knight behind her.

“I think most of the charm comes from the person who’ll receive it,” (F/n) chuckled.

“Don’t you think so, Leaf?”

She wouldn’t know. And she’d never know a lot of things.

She never got the chance to ask her most precious knight if he liked that gift.

And she never will. No matter how many days, months, years, centuries— eons Leaf would wait, he would never hear the princess ask that same question again after this.

It would not matter if he was a judge, a prince, a knight, or a mere animal— it did not matter how many sweet new styles he would take. In the end, his arms will always be empty. Everything was pre-ordained. Dying in his arms, whether it’s slow and painful or mercilessly quick— will remain as the last line. He will always hold on to your corpse, warmth draining. 

This was your fate, (F/n)— no, (Y/n) (L/n).

This was just the first of many branches of the Irminsul. The first of its many reiterations, possibilities, or better yet, alternate tales or "universal resets". 

Princess "(F/n)" coughed, wetting the side of her lips.

"I haven't been able to p-personally attach that tassel on your s-sword, b-but… but I can spare you enough seconds to fly away…"

"Don't make haste!" Leaf gritted his teeth as he applied some pressure down her stomach. "This is not your decision to make!"

She didn't reply to his desperation, but she silently disagreed.

In her palm was the tassel, out of its box. The blue threads darkened with the taints of her blood. The metallic scent was nauseating. It weaved in a disorganized fashion around her fingers. 

What a beautiful and tragic loom of fate, to love someone you were bound to hold with ruin. 

It would’ve hurt less if it weren’t in his colors too.

"This marks the worst day of my life," the “princess” smiled, tucking the stray hair behind Leaf's face. "And even if given the opportunity, I wouldn't dare c-change not even a minute detail about it."

As if she— as if you— have the power to change destiny.

You're not a descender.

You're just a pawn.

That's when Leaf realized how fragile life ultimately was. With the curse undoing itself, he recalled and reflected on his animal days. He understood the Divine Dragon's intense frustration over a lowly duckling's will to perish. The curse of becoming human meant knowing the greed men had, but also the beauty of their kindness. 

His small bird heart was not meant for this much sorrow. His life was meant to be simple. To learn that he was not a duck, but a swan. 

How was he supposed to cope that the woman he had sworn to protect was not human, but a fae?

Everyone in the kingdom knew that the king would sooner disclaim his paternity than allow the crown princess (F/n) to truly lead— but they never had any real reason to support the king for this. The princess’s words were always more kind and ponderous than that of her supposed father’s. They thought him mad. They thought him deplorable. They thought him old and senile.

But he would not be king if he were not sharp.

Why, oh why, would the princess make great efforts to constantly hide her ears? Why would the princess utter roundabout ways in speaking her “own” name? Most of all, why would the princess fear the touch of iron?

There was a simple answer: she was not the princess, but a liar.

And yet, Leaf was the sole person who did not care, for he thought himself as the worst sinner or “quack” in comparison.

The kingdom won't learn the full truth for some time after this, but the fae made a bargain with the real princess. The real princess would elope with a farm boy and, in return, the fae would take her name. The trade was not malevolent. The two women were secret friends since childhood and neither wished the other harm.

But the townsfolks had little patience. They would sooner throw pebbles and stones than kneel for a false princess.

The moral of the story, like most Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales, was simple: virtue will be rewarded, iniquity will be punished. The storytellers do not care beyond that, no matter how dark it sounds to the children who will hear it. The fae lied, therefore the kingdom shall rightfully punish her.

They better thank the dragon they oh-so admire that the court fae did not think themselves evil. They better sleep soundly, knowing that they have slaughtered a well-intentioned guardian.

For he will not and never will.

Not even with a change of title, name, and universe. Whether the land he walked on was called Gaciea, Fodlan, Belobog, the Continental, or Teyvat— what the world steals from him, he promised to take back.

There the two were, back to where it started. The same forest and patch of land where the bear had attacked her. Fate had a funny way of telling tales. Leaf can only scoff at how unimaginative it could be, sometimes. 

Why couldn’t fate think of more comfortable deathbeds for the one he loved?

"You cannot allow this! I cannot allow this!" The knight gritted his teeth. "You will not die— you cannot die. You and I have a promise… You cannot break that one promise!!!”

“(F/n)” grinned.

The look in her eyes disturbed him.

She knew. It is finished. She knew that it was the last page of the book. Just living in these immortalized pages for the fae was well worth the want she had wanted.

“Consummatum est.”

Consummatum est…. 

Leaf gasped shakily.

“Did my life… even have meaning to you as well?”

Her expression was enough to tell him the words “who knows?” She surely did not. Her mind was buzzing and her thoughts were fizzling out. No one knows anymore. Maybe the Divine Dragon would but he would not accept any offering or prayers for these two heretics.

This is fine… He’ll forget his tears soon, surely…

He’s only a sword at her side… She never asked him to be anything more…

He should be okay, once she’s gone…

She grinned, lifelessly tracing her thumb across his cheeks. The curse is undone. The loom of fate was slowly disintegrating. Soon enough, he shall return to his original form. That of an animal. That of an ugly duckling. That of a swan who will forget his human memories. 

It is finished.

On the book’s final page, there is only ever a fae’s corpse and an elegant bird watching over them. With its wings clipped back, curiously watching the light leave their eyes, he will return to the nearby riverbanks and forget what had happened. As retribution for stealing another’s identity, there will be no one left to remember who she truly was.

And that was all there was to it.

With the fae banished, the Kingdom of Gaciea lived happily ever after. THE END.

Dainsleif closed the book and lovingly looked at the “person” beside him in bed. He stroked the “person”’s light brown hair— its color reminiscent of the bear he had slain in his first life.  It’s a shame he had to reunite with you in this condition. But it’s not like he would stop loving you. He doesn’t care if you’re a fae, a sinner—

Or a hilichurl.

He scooted closer beside you.

"So, does the story ring any bells, my beloved?"

Zhongli, upon recalling what happened and the curse he had inflicted on both of you to fulfill some children’s fairy tale, sought the “ugly duckling” and the “false princess”. Retired as he is, he cannot undo the fate you must play nor terminate his contract with Celestia. For consolation, he merely offered the Khaenri’ahn a teapot. Unlike the Chasm, the teapot was forever peaceful and serene. The brightness of lumenstone ores was not as comforting as the adeptal light that peeks through the drapes. This is your current place of residence. Whether you liked it or not.

"To think Nicole would entail the story of our past life." He laughed softly. "And these names... Hah... Are those the best she could conjure up to bypass possible erasure…? I suppose I should still thank her for her best efforts. I can see how challenging it would be to document our story, given how we lived through so many resets."

There’s a slice of cake paired with wooden utensils on the nightstand. If your mind had not deteriorated, you might’ve assumed they were gifts from the aforementioned Nicole and the Geo Archon. Unfortunately, forming a coherent thought required a mental fortitude akin to iron. You currently do not have such willpower. 

“Alfstan— no… Halfdan was right. There will come a time that he’d protect you from harm and not I…” Dainsleif mumbled defeatedly, his eyes burning with tears he couldn’t let out. Far too tired to dwell on it. “He must’ve forgotten his old jests in his previous life because as far as he’s concerned, he’s simply doing his duty as a Black Serpent Knight…”

He pecked your forehead, closing his eyes.

"Did you remember, my beloved? Vacation may not have any business being in my vocabulary but it is my birthday today…" Dainsleif leaned his forehead against the cold stone that covered your face. "I know you— do not feel guilty over your lack of gifts. It is not as if I bothered to count my age since the cataclysm. I didn't want to celebrate this occasion for the past five centuries. Not when you weren't at my side..."

The blonde man turned his gaze to the floor.

How many times will he have to “reincarnate” just to see a happy ending for the both of you?

"Happy birthday… to me…" He sang weakly. "Happy birthday to me…"

The man— the former sentimental judge— the former tyrant prince— the former "ugly duckling"— and now the current bough keeper, observer of fate in this new fairy tale, trembled…

“Happy birthday, happy birthday…”

… And sobbed.

You, in your ungreedy husk of a body, tilted your head in innocence. Pain coursed through every nerve now that the Abyss Order’s cleansing equipment broke. The man before you was no different from the shadows you fought and hid from that would terrorize the dark and cold places in the Chasm you’ve instinctively called home. But somewhere deep down, you carried a complex weight that hilichurls wouldn’t normally have. 

That weight was a human emotion dubbed as "pity."

You pitied the shadow that loomed and embraced you.

And your lone reluctant arm that wrapped around him was enough to make him fully break down.

His throat constricted as he cried into your inhuman shoulders. Your scent was like that of a wet duckling, and he preferred that over the blood that disgraced your form several "fairy tales" ago. Dainsleif caressed the golden band on his finger. It was the most important ring between the two that Pari Zurvan found him clutching whilst unconscious in the wilderness.

At the very least, you were safe.

And you being alive today was a good enough present for him.

You tilted your head down, feeling his warmth one last time while Dainsleif took a deep breath, singing with more air than a proper tune.

Though it was barely discernible, he could just about make out the words you muttered a phrase from the old language of Khaenri'ah. Or at least, he deluded himself that that was the case. In his catatonic mind, you spoke the words:

Happy birthday, my beloved.

"H-Happy birthday to me…"

Taglist: @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen @dxprived4-starboys

[mahouplanetofficial]

Basic Concept Guide 💫

Hi everyone! Welcome to a (long due) concept guide! I hope you guys are excited– I LOVE creating concept guides!

Before we begin:

Tomorrow is Mahou Planets 3rd anniversary! Tomorrow, we plan on hosting a fun gamenight to celebrate three years of Mahou Planet! I recommend joining the server if you’d like to participate!

So sorry about the general inactivity! AP exams are coming up and I’ve been cramming for my AP exams I take soon. To those taking AP exams, good luck! I’ll be taking the AP US History and the AP Precalc exams. May the spirits who miraculously gave me a 5 on my AP Government exam be with us :) 

Now, to the guide!

🩷 WHAT IS A CONCEPT?

 A concept is a general idea of what kind of magical hero you want to be. This could vary from canon media, such as Precure or Madoka Magica, to a completely original idea– or maybe both to some extent. Concepts build the foundation of what kind of magical hero you want to be. A concept can be as detailed or as vague as you want. Concepts are typically linear: you’re a specific type of magical hero with a specific aesthetic and goal. 

There are different types of magical heroes that can get incredibly specific and in-detail. Luckily for you guys, I’m willing to hold back on my worldbuilding skills until some later time.

There is no right or wrong way to create a concept. I’m sort of expecting those who are already interested in creating original characters or create stories to have an easier time with this than those who have zero experience with character creation. I’d like to keep concept creation simple as this is a relatively new account with beginner level guides. So, I’ll do as such in this tutorial.

🧡 HOW DO I GET STARTED WITH MAKING A CONCEPT?

Again, there is no right or wrong way to make a concept. I can’t exactly tell you what works and what doesn’t, because what works for me may not work for you. Here are a couple of methods I used in creating my magical hero concept, as well as some methods I have seen in the past:

One way I created my concept is by narrowing down exactly what I want as a magical hero. Start by asking yourself questions. These can be as vague or as specific as you’d like. These will begin narrowing down what kind of magical hero you would like to be, what you’ll be fighting, what you’ll look like, etc. A couple of questions to consider are:

Would I like to take on a pre-existing concept, something completely original, or maybe a mix of both? 

What will I be fighting for? What important societal or spiritual values will I uphold as a magical hero? Because of this, what do I fight?

If I’m not going to be physically fighting evil, how will I combat the forces stopping said value from existing?

Do I want teammates, or do I want to work by myself?

How do I receive my magical abilities? Am I born with them? Are they granted to me by a familiar? Is there a higher power in my concept that gives me them? Or is there just no explanation?

Speaking of, will I have a familiar/mascot in my concept? Or will I just figure out things on my own?

What aesthetic am I trying to harbor as a magical hero? Does this aesthetic fit in with my civilian self, or is it something out of the ordinary?

What do I want to look like when I transform?

What weapon or weapons will I be using? What kind of powers am I going to possess? Will these be effective in upholding my values?

What role will I play in helping other magical heroes in the future? Will I be a fighter, support, or maybe both? Am I a frontliner or a backliner?

Just by asking these questions, you can already get pretty specific details about your concept. Continue asking these questions about as many prompts as you want (secondary forms, transformation device, etc.) If you need any help or more detailed questions to ask about your magical hero self, you can send a ask or join our Discord and ping Georgia (me) or any other members with the okay with pings role for help!

Another way to create concepts is to create a DO and DO NOT list. We’ve likely done these in school, creating diagrams or comparison charts. This is the same thing, and can be applied to even the smallest details in your concept.

I recommend either making this list in a word processor (Docs, Notion, Microsoft Word) or writing things down physically. Basically, you make a two-row column. Title a section DOs and the other DO NOTs. Then, write down what you want and don’t want as a magical hero. If you’re not sure what you want, then start with what you don’t want and vise versa.

For example, if I’m starting with the DO NOT side of the list, I’d probably write something like “I don’t want my concept to be dark.” That already wipes out a lot of dark magical hero shows, themes found in dark concepts, etc. I could also write something like “I do want my weapon to be a wand.” That already decides your weapon. You can be as detailed or vague as you want for this list. 

Eventually, you’ll look at each side of the list and compare. Write down what you’ve learned, for example: I have a fun and lighthearted concept, and my weapon is a wand. Just from this statement alone, I can already envision a lot of concept ideas!

A more common method I’ve seen is by taking inspiration from different media. Let’s say you really like the outfits used in Madoka Magica for the Holy Quintent, and want to use them for your team. Then, you get the idea of having a Precure styled backstory: a kingdom gets overrun by evil rulers and it’s your teams job to restore it. You basically repeat the process with more medias that interest you, and BAM! A concept!

It’s an easier method, and it’s also a nice method if you’d like to incorporate your interests into your concept. If you have any hyperfixations or special interests, I’d recommend adding those into your concept to ensure you stay interested in your concept. 

Some more ideas to create a concept:

Search for some inspiration for your concept on YouTube, Pinterest, tumblr, etc.

Ask your friends what may fit you the most as a magical hero (if they’re unaware of magical heroes, you can ask them more unsuspecting questions like “What powers do you think I would have?”)

Get a reading on what your concept could be! A couple of Mahou Planet members are able to provide free readings, myself included!

Join someone else’s existing concept, could be a friend or an existing magical hero show

The most important takeaway from this is to have fun! Like I said before, there’s no right or wrong way to make a concept. What matters is that it’s something you enjoy, something you’re willing to fight for, and something you love! 💞

Thanks so much for reading all of this– I probably rambled for longer than I should’ve. I’m gonna go back to binging Heimler’s History. Hope you guys have a good rest of your week!! MP out!

(idols: iz*one ot12, iz*one ot12, wonyoung - ive, twice ot9, red velvet ot5)

[yoonieper]

Pecattiphilia— Part 6 | PJM

Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin.

✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, fluff, smut (yep, we’re here now!), this is a slow burn (kinda?)! 

✽ Rated: M for Mine

✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and gore (nothing extreme, Jimin and the boys fight monsters sometimes), and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)

✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: jealous Mimi, Mimi’s going through a bit of a crisis, drama!, smutty elements– making out, grinding, etc~ green flag chapter!

✽ Word Count: 12.5k

✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden, it's sin. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?

✽ Now Playing…: We Go Down Together by Dove Cameron & Khalid, The Girl is Mine by Michael Jackson (with Paul McCartney), ALL MINE by Brent Faiyaz— visit the masterlist for the full playlist!

✽ Author’s Note: Eeee already, the two parts I hoped to get done this year! Now I also hope to post part 7 this year! It’s already started and I have it all planned out and should be a shorter chapter than these last two~ I’ll let you know more info later on in the year, but hopefully it comes out soon because I hate to have a big gap from where this leaves off 😭 Hope to be back soon guys AND hopefully I’ll finally make the Spotify Playlist before the next part comes out! Also if you see any mistakes this was a tiny bit rushed so I will be coming back and fixing whatever I missed! Anyway, enjoy~ 

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

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Human vs Angel.

It was a battle that relentlessly raged on with an alarming ferocity in his mind. The damage at this point was catastrophic, no clear winner, only bloodshed and more to come on the horizon.

Human or Angel? Who was he?

It’s not like Jimin or any P2 angel could remember what their experience was like as a human, yet they still weren’t seen as entirely angels either. 

That’s because they weren’t.

They still had wants, desires, cravings, needs, and they even maintained the vessel that once contained their souls. Their souls were long gone, now replaced with the angelic light that gave them the power to fight against sin, but that still wasn’t enough. Something that forever confused Jimin was why they still bleed— all higher up angels didn’t bleed, why did they need to? It was messy, unnecessary, red, too human for exalted beings like them. 

From the very moment they opened their eyes there was this immediate barrier preventing them from being like the other higher up angels. They sometimes certainly didn’t see them as such— they were impure, sinful, depraved, degenerative creatures who would be better off joining the cycle then working with them.

It was a bit of a shock at first hearing this when their team was first allowed to wander through the winding halls of H.E.A.V.E.N. Celine and Atara had tried to warn them of the higher up angels, yet during their lessons it was hard not to admire them. 

Their capabilities were beyond anything they could ever do and they had every right to have the very air they flew through worshiped. Maybe that was why Jimin and the rest of his team were a little too optimistic when Celine and Atara gave them the tour and some would pass by.

They heard the comments— Taehyung had even tried to go up to one in his excitement and was immediately met with the repercussions he deserved. 

This first encounter was all it took for their team to want to put as much distance as they could from their human past— a past they couldn’t remember, but resented because they truly took the higher ups' words to heart. 

And that proved to be successful. 

Their numbers topped many of the leaderboards, the less human they were the better they did— the more they truly helped the goal of maintaining the balance of the universe.

However no matter how well they did they would never be truly an angel. To be so pure and in control to the point where weapons weren’t necessary, a single glance at a sinful creature was enough to vanquish the being from existence.

Namjoon was rare in the sense he was one of the few P2 angels that had gotten the chance to experience something similar. However he still needed the bandages wrapped tightly around his hands to prevent him accidentally blasting a hole through spacetime, doing far more damage than just demon blood on his hands. 

He was respected a little more than the rest, but there was always this wall that even he could never cross. 

Not entirely human yet they certainly weren’t people. No one could remember what it was like to have a soul anymore.

They were too “human” to be an angel but too powerful and glacial to have that same passion that humans live with. 

It was confusing and while Jimin never truly felt like a real angel the gap felt even wider when he was around you. The reason was simple, Jimin would never be able to feel as much as a human could. He was and forever would be detached from the human experience.

That much was just a fact. 

He would be called emotionless in comparison, a husk of the vibrant soul that once inhabited this vessel, built solely for the purpose of vanquishing sin from this world. All emotions besides the blissful sensation of purifying his enemies was practically reduced to nothing. 

That was how it was supposed to be at least.

With each day you’ve been in his life, it was like a distant memory was returning to him. Never clear enough to fully remember, but the warmth that bathed him whenever he was in your presence was oddly familiar. You’ve given him the opportunity to feel more than he thought he was capable of anymore. 

It was a little confusing to navigate through, but you were there to ground him and despite his growing concerns at least he was here with you. 

With you this beautiful orchestra of emotions would sing anytime he’d just gaze upon your beauty. You were honestly beyond words, your enchanting presence was enough to rival the angels he worked with. It was mind boggling that you were human. 

But as much as Jimin just wanted to ignore the obvious, that more sensible half made sure he never forgot. 

He couldn’t even if he wanted to, but that created this strange fire that burned brighter, hotter, and more violent with each and every one of your meetings.

The emotion that seemed to dominate his mind anytime he was with you these days was this searing, unexplainable antipathy— or better put— the closest thing he could experience to it.

Jimin hated you with every fiber of his being and you were completely unaware. 

It was obvious as the weeks passed by he needed to talk to you. He honestly had no right to hate you, the issues being completely unestablished to you and there was no way you could have known, but that didn’t matter. Jimin still found this confusing flame growing hotter and hotter and it just got worse each time you’d meet in your dreams.

You didn’t do anything wrong, you still thought he didn’t even exist so of course you would never think anything of it. 

You were more so caught in the crossfire of his frustration with himself. He thought he was stronger, but time and time again you proved to be the one human who could bring a superior being like himself down to his knees. It was always so easy for you, you weren’t even aware you were doing it.

Jimin’s tried so hard to make this work.

He saw you every night and he’d always try to plan these elaborate dates to distract his troubled mind. They worked most of the time and proved to be fun just having you by his side. But that didn't completely stop the days you’d stay and relax underneath the big tree you first met under, which was oftentime a request made by you to just talk and admire the clouds passing overhead, but Jimin tried his best to avoid dates that were so casual because they usually never ended well anymore…

Were things different now because you were together? He didn’t know what changed but instead of the tranquil moments where you’d gaze upon the setting sun, Jimin practically had his tongue down your throat every time he’d see you. 

One minute you were discussing the most obscene thing ever, mole science it happened to be that time. You had sat up so you could be closer to his face while you examined every dot across his skin and attached this arbitrary symbolic meaning behind their placements. It honestly didn’t make any sense to him, but you were so pretty and cute as you gently poked the dots and explained what each and every one meant. 

You must have noticed he was confused because suddenly after you explained what the one on his cheek meant, you leaned down and kissed it. He was left giggling like a schoolgirl when you pulled away, the tingles, butterflies, he just felt so whole in that moment. The cute instance was short lived because the next one you went for just so happened to be on his neck (something that may or may not was on purpose), in a spot he quickly learned was so fucking sensitive the minute your lips met his skin.

He couldn’t even describe what came over him. It was this rush that flowed through his body to pull you close because how were you real and how were you his? You both had been laying on the picnic blanket but suddenly you were on your back staring up at him with those eyes he couldn’t help but get lost in.

All he wanted to do was kiss you, he felt like he had to in the moment, but once your lips were on his the harder it became to pull away. How could he? 

The way you made him feel was so complicated, he honestly didn't have words but this fuzzy feeling mixed with just this innate, carnal desire he knew was a vestigial emotion from when he was still human. It was overwhelming almost, the need to have you, to claim you.

It proved to be one of the most revolving yet exhilarating experiences everytime that rush would hit. Your touch, your lips, your body, he just couldn’t get enough.

And each time it was getting harder to stop, to remember it was sin and that promise he made to his team that he absolutely couldn't, under any circumstances, break.

It was so pathetic, he was horrified every time he’d come out of your mind and back to the reality he faces.

What was he doing?

This road was a path filled with sin and he was still choosing to go down it? 

What was wrong with him?!

Jimin wanted to have more faith in himself, that this was just the ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship and things would settle down eventually, but as the weeks passed it was just getting harder and harder to stop himself. 

As much as he loved to pull you close anytime you were near, it was impossible to deny he wanted you closer. He wanted to feel you, touch you, love you in a way he knew how to. 

You’d manage to stir awake a beast that had laid dormant for eons and Jimin didn’t know what to do.

The more logical side was saying as much as he loved being with you, this wasn’t healthy and he should stop now before things get any worse. Yet every night, he was back with you.

He couldn’t leave and he didn’t want to either. 

Every time you’d fall asleep and that smile on your face when you’d finally notice him, he never wanted to stop seeing that.

It was almost hard to forget the times you’d gaze right through him, never once being aware of his presence. How could he go back to being nothing to you?

You were his and he was yours. He’d find a way to overcome this, if it’s the last thing he does. 

That doesn’t mean it hasn’t been hard.

You made things hard. 

You and your filthy mind. 

You’d think about him all day, it would catch him off guard every time when he would watch over you at your job and you’d be so innocently sitting at your desk, like you weren’t thinking about the night before, in a scenario where you never woke up.

Your thoughts, painfully loud as you shifted in your seat. That date where you both rode on the backs of unicorns, you pictured his physique as you clung onto him that night as you and the herd rode into the sunset. It would just get worse, so much worse as you thought about when you both ended the ride, how he held you in his arms.

You wanted him to take you right then and there. It played so vividly in your mind, just like the countless other sinful fantasies that bounced around in your head all day. And he knew exactly how hot they would make you feel, the special bond you have making it all so clear what you wanted.

It was torture.

Jimin was forced to sit there and he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d even considered on a couple of occasions, merging down to the normal plane just to beg you to take pity on him. 

Jimin hated you for it, it was pathetic. 

You never realized it was Jimin’s doing, you always would curse to yourself whenever things got too hot and then you woke up in your apartment once more. You simply thought you got yourself too excited and would wake up as a result every single time. 

In actuality it was the most speedy way to stop himself from going any further than he has.

He’s tried so hard not to go beyond kissing, so hard, and it was so pathetic that he wanted more every time. Every single time.

One day you had asked Jimin to take you back to the diner because you were craving their breakfast. The date had gone similar to the first time he took you, Laura served you a mountainous amount of food as you chatted about anything that came to mind. You were a little braver this time in getting up to explore the diner, wanting to see the extent your mind came up with the smallest details.

You went over to the jukebox they had sitting in the corner and bet that nothing would play because none of the songs were ones you recognized. Low and behold the random song you picked ended up overcoming the murmur of the other customers at the diner. 

You were stunned but that officially meant you lost the bet. Jimin knew you would, but his wish was simple. He just wanted you to dance with him. 

He laughed at your defeat but didn’t hesitate in pulling you close as you both began to sway to the soft strums of the guitar and drum of “My Girl,” one of his favorites from when he visited the time period. The moment had been a chance to have you in his arms, the others in the diner disappearing as you both just enjoyed the moment. 

It was perfect, you were perfect. A warm feeling spread in his chest as he held you, that Jimin used his hand to make you look up at him so he could just kiss you.

It should have been a perfect, sweet moment— it was all up until your filthy mind was back and he knew you wanted more. The warm, sweet feeling turned into something darker almost instantaneously.

At this point he had it. 

Jimin knew you were confused when suddenly you were pinned up against the counter a couple had been eating ice cream at only moments prior. 

If things had gone your way he would have taken you right then and there. He would have had your dress bunched around your waist and fucked you so maybe then you would learn to behave.

And he nearly did, he nearly took you right against that counter. His hand on your waist had been shaking because just a thin piece of fabric was in the way of having you like he wanted. And your mind… you just made things worse.

That’s how every meeting would go between you these days. It was horrible and it was all because of you. 

If you hadn’t done this to him he wouldn’t be in this position.

If you just listened to me you wouldn’t be in this position.

If he wasn’t so weak he wouldn’t be in this position. 

But at the end of the day, he made his choice, and he continued to make the same one every night when he visited you. 

No one was forcing him to continue this. You still thought he was just a dream, you would eventually forget about him and things could go back to the way they should be.

You were innocent in all of this, yet this fiery heated emotion was constantly directed towards you. He hated it, he hated all of these new emotions. As beautiful as the orchestra was, all of them felt strange, unnatural, dangerous even. 

Jimin shouldn’t be feeling anything. He should be the soldier he was trained to be, obedient and with only one thing in mind— maintaining the balance and continuing the cycle of life in the universe.

A new emotion manifested all on its own as a result.

A gray cloud of gloom would storm, thunder, and pour continuously over his head when he watched over you throughout the day. Jimin couldn’t control it, and that just made things more confusing. 

Was it sadness, depression, maybe some watered down version of it? What if it was something else entirely?

As happy as he was to be with you, it wasn’t right, nothing was right anymore. 

Jimin had disobeyed the commands of his leader and now he was struggling to keep the one promise that his team had made with each other and had maintained for eons. 

Jimin wanted the solution to just be that he had to stay in line, but that line kept being moved and manipulated. He just knew things would only get worse.

Was this what happiness was meant to feel like? All the humans he looked after, was it always this confusing for them? This pain that just didn’t make any sense— no end, no beginning, no wound, no blood, he could never place it… it just hurt all over. 

Was this what he wanted when he decided to be with you? 

He was happy, he was sad too, he was angry, he hated you, he hated himself more. It was all too much and Jimin felt like a hurricane was whishing and whirling around in his head— his mind was a horrible, tumultuous storm and maybe if he was human he would understand how to navigate this. 

If he was human the problems he faced wouldn’t exist, he could be with you no consequences whatsoever. But at least if he was human he would be used to these strange feelings. 

Maybe the answer would be clearer.

But every night Jimin came back to you and he never wanted to stop, because through the storm you were his beacon, his lighthouse, his safety, his refuge.  

You were the only thing that made sense anymore and he just wanted to be with you, even if it was from far away it was still something.

Jimin hoped it would have stayed that way, he wasn’t entirely content but he respected the boundaries your relationship needed to have. 

It was fine, and everything would have continued to be fine if he didn’t exist.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You were enjoying your lunch break that day by yourself. Your friend Mina had been at home sick so you were eating your tteokbokki alone and mindlessly scrolling through your phone to occupy your time. 

You weren’t truly alone though, you never were.

The cafeteria was minimalistic— the white, sleek, modern walls and tables, contrasted nicely with the bright chairs and accents throughout the room. It was a style something your office loved as they were a fan of bright colors, that being evident even in the office space. 

Jimin sat with you at the table in the blue chair and you were in the red one right across from him. 

You were completely unaware of his existence or all the rain that flooded the cafeteria as the cloud above his head continued to storm. Jimin was soaked but he’s grown used to it at this point.

He felt numb, but sitting here with you was nice. 

Maybe in some other world you both might have been coworkers, a secret romance that blossomed between you two that eventually you couldn’t keep a secret any longer. The storm wasn’t overhead instead you both were sharing a meal together as everyone around you sighed at how single they were.

They were jealous and you would always laugh because you both really were lucky. 

He couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, if you met while he was human would you have liked him? What if the only reason why you said yes was because you thought he was a figment of your imagination, your desires making you look past the glaring fact you didn’t find him dateworthy if it were real life?

Would Jimin have been a nice human? One your eyes would have been instantly drawn too? Would he have been charismatic, would he have you laughing with each and every joke he told?

He was human once, surely out of all the lives he lived at some point there was one that would make you fall for him. 

But here right now? The Jimin you would have met, would you like him? 

Jimin’s thoughts were interrupted when he noticed you turn toward the sound of the clicking of shoes against the tiled floor— ultimately looking at the guy who was walking over to your table. 

Name: Pyeon Jin-Sang

Age: 28

Occupation: Lead Financial Officer at Divine Pharmaceuticals

He was a fellow coworker and you both had spoken on a couple of occasions. It was mainly about work, you both didn’t see each other much working in different departments.

It was why you were a little shocked to see him coming over to you. 

Jimin instantly felt his blood run cold because he knew what he wanted. 

“Hey Y/n…!” He was a little awkward, maybe nervous, but he was still cheerful as he took a seat at the green chair in between you two. 

Jimin didn’t like him.

“Hi!” You smiled back as pleasantly as you could considering your mouth was full of tteokbokki.

“How have you been?”

“Ummm….” You were definitely confused, you normally didn’t have these casual conversations like this. 

“I’ve been ok I guess, things have been a little busy in marketing, but I’m making it.” You were wondering if this was about work or something along those lines. 

“I heard things were busy over there. You’re doing ok, right?” Jin-Sang seemed genuinely concerned.

You nodded. “I’m fine, but I think it was a little too much for Mina— she got a pretty high fever after staying late the other day.” 

“Is that why she’s not here today?” Jin-Sang asked, looking around. 

You nodded once again, taking another bite of your tteokbokki.

“Mmm well, you take care of yourself, alright? Seeing you around the office always puts a smile on my face.” He cheesed, cheeks dusting pink in the process. 

You only halfway picked up on the flirting attempt— noticing it, but choosing to ignore it because no way was Jin-Sang trying to flirt with you.

Your face flushed nonetheless. 

The conversation grew more natural with the uncomfortable icebreaker out the way.

You both talked a little more about seemingly anything and everything that came to mind, a little work, but you mainly focused on the personal details that you both just never seemed to discuss before. 

He was a nice guy and a lot more interesting than you would have guessed from your brief interactions in the past. You laughed as he told you about the time he and his friends went kayaking down the rapids in Australia and how they nearly went down a waterfall after they made a wrong turn. 

Jin-Sang was exciting, nice, and really funny.

The more you talked the more you picked up on his shy attempt at flirting with you. It was cute, he was cute.

He wore a suit that nicely fitted his frame, his sharp eyes would crinkle up anytime he’d smile at you, his dark hair neatly styled with a sharp undercut on display, but his cute round glasses and soft pink cheeks just made him look like a teddy bear. 

There was no denying it, he was handsome. 

You both talked for pretty much your entire lunch break and it was just as you were about to leave when he finally asked you the question.

“Uh… Y/n.” Jin-Sang called out to you as you started getting up. His voice wavered slightly and he quickly started playing with hands. 

“You probably already know I didn’t just come over here to talk about my Australia trip or the logistics of blue cheese…” 

It had been a strange conversation looking back on it now.

Jin-Sang paused and looked around like he was trying to find the right words. 

“Alright, fuck it. I meant what I said in the fact I look forward to seeing you everyday, and even though we only talk on rare occasions, I really want to get to know you more.” Jin-Sang paused once again to gauge your reaction and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face growing even wider when he noticed yours.

“Uhhh…” He giggled as he scratched his head.

“Sorry you’re really pretty…” He tried to laugh it off, but you heard it and you couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt at the compliment.

“I really came over to ask if you wouldn’t mind hanging out with me outside of work.” He smiled at you.

Oh that smile could kill someone. 

“Like a date?” You asked, a giddy feeling spreading in your chest.

“Yeah, a date.” You noticed his smile grow wider at your mention of it.

This should have been easy. Obviously there was enough chemistry here that trying things out would be worth it in your opinion. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask him for the time and place and tell him you’d be there. 

Maybe things would make a little sense if the only reason for your hesitation was your concern of pursuing a workplace relationship. Those can get messy and there should be a little caution before being ready to take that short of risk. But that’s not why you hesitated. 

As much as you enjoyed Jin-Sang’s company, a certain angel that made his way into your head every night was what ultimately stopped you in your tracks. What you actually were about to say, was that while he was a nice guy, you had a boyfriend already. 

But that just served as a reminder that Jimin was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. As much fun as you were having with Jimin, at the end of the day, he was just someone who lived in your head.

And maybe this was a sign. You thought you had sworn off relationships for a while, but Jin-Sang was nice and a date or two wouldn’t do any harm. If things worked out then that’s great, but if they didn’t then so be it.

Jin-Sang noticed the way your smile started to drop as the proposition lingered in the air. 

“Uh— you don’t have to respond right away! This was pretty sudden so I can give you some time to think!” He panicked and you instantly felt bad. This wasn’t fair.

“Oh yeah… um— can I have your number so we can talk?” You asked and he was quick to give you the digits before you could even open up your contacts list.

It was cute.

He gave you a slightly awkward goodbye as he made his way back over to his table of friends who had been eying you both intently since he walked over here. 

As soon as he was gone, the guilt you felt nearly overflowed. To make matters worse you didn’t know who you felt more bad for, the fact you didn’t give Jin-Sang an immediate answer because of a figment of your imagination or… did you feel bad for what you might be about to do to Jimin?

It was crazy right?

Maybe you might have been, but you didn’t know that the Jimin that had stopped you, wasn’t in your head but sitting across from you.

From where he sat the storm that had poured over his head had filled the entire room, lightning flashed, and thunder crashed, as the wind blew everything around. 

Jimin could hardly see you anymore, the rage he felt burning from within making a hollow gaze settle onto his blue eyes. 

He didn’t scream, he didn’t yell, none of that would have done anything anyway. 

Instead he let the embers burn, catching ablaze faster and faster and faster. It was a new emotion— it wasn’t rage, hatred, or anything in between but he knew it came from a place he didn’t like. 

His confusion didn’t help but the storm raged on anyway and by the seconds grew even more powerful somehow. He couldn’t think straight, only one thought seemed to pierce through the storm.

You were his.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jin-Sang texted you by the time you made it home for you to tell Mina he hoped she felt better soon and also invited you out for coffee or ‘your preferred drink of choice’ on Saturday. Apparently this new cafe had opened up and everyone was talking about it. You wanted to text him back and tell him you were down and you were excited for Saturday, but it was like this little nagging voice in your head anytime you tried to type anything out would stop you.

Jimin. 

It was stupid, incredibly stupid.

You knew Jimin only existed in your head, but sometimes it was so easy to forget that. Jimin was unlike any other person who’s made their way into your dreams, especially as someone you never met before, he felt very… real.

Maybe it was because of how vivid they always were, but Jimin felt like a real person. He had likes and dislikes that didn’t match your own, he had stories to tell you that you don’t remember, and something about the way he’d look into your eyes. 

It felt real, too real that you often wondered if you had actually lost your mind. 

Maybe you had and Jin-Sang was a sign you needed to wake up.

You had been lying on the couch trying to come up with an excuse why it wouldn’t be a good idea to go out with Jin-Sang besides your make-believe boyfriend, but apparently your mind was tired from the day, too much had happened. It also didn’t help that you had ASMR playing in the background, you were out before you even realized it.

You don’t know how long you were asleep for, but eventually you opened your eyes to find yourself looking out to the familiar field you found yourself at every night.

But things were immediately off. 

You were propped up against the tree like you had been sleeping under it, and from this view you could see… well, you couldn’t see. 

A thick gray fog covered the field so you could hardly see in front of you, thunder rumbled in the distance, and a light rain steadily started to sprinkle across your skin.  

It was pouring though, you could tell in the heavy pitter patter sounds of the rain hitting the tall grass of the meadow, but you figured the large tree overhead was what was giving you a little coverage. 

What was going on? The weather was usually so nice when you came here. 

You looked around a little confused, things weren’t normally like this. But just as you were about to start calling out to him you were shocked when you finally noticed Jimin sitting around the tree. 

He had his knees to his chest and his head was buried down in between. 

“I’m sorry… the clouds just seem to follow me these days.” Jimin sighed.

And he was off too. Jimin was usually so happy to see you, always greeting you with a hug knowing how much you love them. It was clear something was bothering him.

You scooted closer so you were sitting right next to him. 

“Are you ok?” Your voice was soft as you rested your hand on his shoulder.

You didn’t get an answer right away, instead the rain filled the growing silence once more. Part of you thought he might not have heard you so you were about to ask him again, but slowly Jimin lifted his head to look out to the foggy meadow.

You could see his eyes now, the vibrant blue looked like a violent storm at sea, the waves reached astounding heights and the rain poured overhead— the chaos of nature itself. Yet it was a quiet storm, one not a soul on land was aware of.

“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about it.” Jimin sounded like all the life had been sucked out of him, his cheery smile gone and instead this plain, dead expression on his face.

For a second you had no idea what he was talking about, but the moment was truly small because of course the Jimin in your head would know about your dilemma with a certain coworker.

“Jimin—“

“You told me you were mine, that we were going to try…” If you didn’t know any better you thought he sounded like he was on the verge of tears, but your angel couldn’t cry, instead a heavy emotion with no way of release was filling his head.

In the distance the rumbling thunder grew a little louder. 

You sighed and scooted even closer so you could put your arm around him. 

“Please tell me you aren’t going.” Jimin tried again, this time finally turning to face you. For some reason he seemed slightly agitated, his gaze dark but filled with a pain that made your heart ache.

“Jimin… I’ve enjoyed our time together. Shit, you have no idea how much I wish you were real— actually, you probably do, you know everything I think—“ 

You took a deep breath.

“But you’re not. None of this is real. I can’t go out and introduce you to people. We can’t walk down the street and hold hands. Jimin you don’t exist, you’re just a figment of my imagination.” Your words were a little harsh but he had to understand.

You finally turned to him and you hated the look on his face, you could tell he was hurt. If that wasn’t a sign enough rain suddenly started pouring down from the sky.

It was violent, the cover of the tree wasn’t enough to shield you from the droplets that continuously hit your skin. You were soaked in seconds.

“Jimin!” You exclaimed, just a little annoyed he was reacting this way, but you felt bad as well.

“I’m sorry…” He grumbled the apology yet he didn’t feel bad at all. 

He hated you.

He hated you because you were right in a way. He was real but he couldn’t do any of those things with you. To you he might as well be a part of your imagination, this is the farthest your relationship could go. 

You could tell he was upset so you scooted closer and wrapped your arm around his shoulders. 

“I wish so fucking much you were real and we could do all those things. The fact that I’m even contemplating this date over someone who doesn’t exist should tell you that much.” The pain in your voice, the sobs, you hoped he could feel how much you wanted him. Your tears ran down your cheeks, but you were thankful for the rain to cover it up some.

This was the perfect opportunity.

Everyone was right.

Jimin couldn’t even look at you, the grass that was being flooded by the rain held his attention. He watched as the water would try to soak into the ground, but too quickly there was more to take its place.

The grass was drowning.

This was one of those moments Jimin wished he could cry, something, because the reality of the situation was too much to handle.

He didn’t want to say goodbye, he didn’t want to let you go.

But it made sense. 

His other half was right, this was the perfect opportunity.

Jimin knew Jin-Sang wasn’t a bad guy. His intentions were pure and he knew the date you would have would go well. You shared a lot of interest you’ve yet to discover and he would treat you well. He worked a well paying job, he would love you— he almost did already. 

Jin-Sang could be the one. 

Maybe things would be easier if he was sure, if he was like the higher up angels and he could know what stopping you from going on that date would do. He could be stopping you from your chance of happiness, something that he could never give you.

But he only knew the now and now hurts so much.

He didn’t want to let you go.

“Jimin… say something.” You cried seeing he was just playing with the grass underneath him.

The rain just got harder and harder. You were almost in a hurricane.

Now was the perfect opportunity.

He could say goodbye to you right now. He was only a dream to you. You would forget about him eventually. He could right the wrongs of this situation and go back to his position as it should. He was meant to be your guardian, nothing more.

Things would fall back to line eventually. Maybe with Jin-Sang there you would move on more easily. You would be happy and he would just be forced to watch it happen.

He wasn’t meant to be part of your life.

He didn’t belong here.

It might be hard now, but he would have had to say goodbye to you eventually. This was his opportunity. 

It might hurt for a while, maybe even forever, but you would eventually fade into all the other souls he watched over and guided into the beyond. 

Things could go back to normal, he could make his team happy, he could finally follow his leader’s orders. 

This was it.

Jimin just needed to say goodbye.

But…

The clouds that raged around you almost dissipated instantly, the dark gloomy overcast replaced with the shining sun you were used to.

You looked around confused before turning back to Jimin wondering what was happening. 

His head was still buried in his knees, but slowly but surely he lifted his head to finally meet your eyes again. 

You certainly weren’t expecting to meet his dark gaze. His light blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean were replaced with something dark, black, a void almost. It’s like the storm itself had condensed small enough to rest behind his sad gaze.

It was scary only for a second.

“You’re right… I just… I don’t want to say goodbye.” He sounded like he was about to break. It’s like you were looking at a dam seconds away from exploding. Even though you knew he couldn’t cry it almost sounded like he was but the tears never flowed.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, it hurts and I don’t— don’t know how I— how to—“ He didn’t know what to say, how to articulate these feelings. All he knew was that it hurt somewhere deep inside to look at you right now.

You quickly pulled him into a hug.

“I get it… it hurts too.” Your voice was shaky as the tears streamed down your cheeks.

Jimin didn’t like the way this felt, you shaking in his arms, the ache he just couldn’t pinpoint in his body. It felt worse than a darkened blade piercing his skin. He wanted to scream but instead he just stared off into the endless meadow you meet every night.

When you pulled away, your tear streaked face made it hurt even more.

He didn’t know what to do, but seeing you like this, he would do anything to take the pain away.

Jimin cupped your cheek lightly and pulled you close. He was so gentle as his thumb lightly wiped away the tears. 

You stared into his dark orbs and you could just see the pain on his soft features. It was so hard to remember that look was nothing but your imagination being cruel to you. It hurt worse knowing you were the one who caused this.

More tears slipped past your eyes and Jimin wiped every one away. 

He was so sweet and you nearly melted away when he finally closed the gap between you two. His lips were so soft and kissing him felt like touching a live wire at the way your body tingled.

How could you let this go? You didn’t want to—

Suddenly your eyes shot open and you were staring up at your living room ceiling. It took a second to process where you were, to calm your heavy breathing, and to realize the fact you were soaking wet.

You hurriedly looked around and noticed the glass of water you had sitting on the coffee table was knocked over, but you were soaked. Just as soaked as you felt in your dream with all the rain pouring over you. 

You looked around confused, but decided not to think about it too much as you steadily got up to grab a towel. 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“What do you think about Pyeon Jin-Sang?” You ask absentmindedly to your friend who was sitting right in front of you.

You and Mina had gone out to this cute cafe for your lunch break instead of staying in like you usually did.

Mina had been sipping on her strawberry latte, something she claimed was the cure to getting rid of her sickness entirely. You doubted it, knowing your friend, you knew she just wanted something sweet.

“You mean that guy from finance?” You knew it took a second for her to remember who you were talking about. 

You nodded, picking up your galaxy lemonade. It had been a new addition to the menu and seeing the pretty colors, you just had to try it.

“Ummm… I guess he’s nice, pretty good looking, I don’t know we haven’t really spoken much. Why?” She was genuinely confused, you couldn’t blame her though, this was coming pretty out of nowhere.

“The other day while you were out sick he asked me out.” You watched her face intently and you see the shock on her features almost double at the news.

“What?!” She nearly screamed, making you quickly need to shush her.

“What?” Mina tried again, this time only a little quieter, emphasis on little.

You nodded. 

“And you’re just now telling me?!” She almost sounded a little hurt at this.

“I would have said something sooner, but…” You started but trailed off.

“Are you thinking of not going?” Mina’s attention turned to the little tea cakes you both were sharing. 

“That’s the thing, we talked that day and he was really sweet, funny, and I think I’d be willing to try out the date…” 

“I’m sensing a but coming.” Mina knew you too well.

You had to think about how to phrase this without sounding absolutely crazy. 

“Well there was this guy that I really, really like who I was already kinda dating—“

“WHAT?!” Mina definitely screamed this time as she firmly slammed her hands on the table. “And you didn’t tell me??!! Who is he? Do I know him? Why didn’t you tell me you liked him, let alone dating?!!” 

“Let me finish first!” You tried to calm her down.

She had to take a deep breath before finally letting you continue. You didn’t blame her though, maybe this wasn’t the best way to go about this.

“Well he lives far away and as much as I like him the relationship just can’t work.” Your heart pained at the thought of Jimin so far away you can’t reach him. You miss him so much, you didn’t see each other yesterday.

“Oh…” You knew she had more questions but she was letting you finish first.

“Jin-Sang is nice and I want to go on that date with him, but as stupid as it may be, I—“

“Keep thinking about this mysterious man from far away?” Mina finished it for you and you nodded at her words.

Mina took a minute looking out the window, trying to find the right words.

“And you can’t do long distance?” She asked but you quickly shook your head.

If only it was as simple as a few hundred, you would even take thousands of miles in between you and Jimin. Unfortunately he wasn’t of this realm, only accessible through your mind.

Mina had more questions about that but she stopped herself again.

“We broke up when I told him about Jin-Sang.” You threw that in but did you and Jimin truly break up? It just felt like your relationship just started. The words still hurt.

“Oh…” 

“Like it was fun while it lasted, but Jin-Sang is here. It’s not worth continuing something that can’t go anywhere.” You doubled down, but your hands were shaking in your lap. You didn’t mean anything you said.

“Well then I don’t know what’s so complicated, go on the date and have fun. One date never hurt anyone and if things have ended between you two it shouldn’t be a big issue. Like you said, you had fun, but if things aren’t going anywhere why waste your time.” Mina made it seem so easy.

Maybe it really was that easy.

It should be that easy.

“I get maybe you’re struggling because you still have feelings for this mystery guy, but they’ll eventually fade and going on that date might be a great start to putting that all in the past.” She smiled at you, taking another sip of her strawberry latte.

You didn’t want to move on. You didn’t want to let him go.

Your mind had been filled with his eyes right before you woke up from your dream, the pain and hurt in his dark orbs. You actually felt like you betrayed him.

But she was right.

You could be missing out on a really good guy for someone that wasn’t real. It was ridiculous.

“But this is the step in the right direction. I’m honestly a little shocked after I thought you said you swore off dating.” Mina recounted with a chuckle. 

She had been by your side after your last relationship and had been that shoulder you cried on while you were going through the breakup. She knew how bad things were and the pain you felt that made you swear off from dating entirely.

“I’m proud.” And this was the nail in the coffin for you as she reached her hand over the table and rested it on yours that was playing with the edge of the napkin your drink sat on top of. 

Mina was right. 

You really have come a long way.

The fact you were even considering going out again was a step in the right direction.

Jimin… you knew he was there because no matter what you said about dating being a thing of your past, you still craved the touch of another human being. You had shut out everyone after your last relationship and after your time with Jimin you truly felt like you could try and let someone back in.

Slowly, you knew the relationship would have to move slowly. You weren’t there entirely yet and especially after Jimin— moving on would still be hard. But you were willing to try. 

It just sucks you can’t thank the person who’s gotten you this far.

“It was him.” You tried to smile but your heart still hurt. 

“Even though we were separated. He was truly there for me. It just sucks it didn’t work out, but I think you’re right. I should give Jin-Sang a try.” As much as it hurt now you didn’t regret your decision. 

This felt right. 

You and Mina clinked your drinks together in celebration and on your way back to work she helped you draft up your message to Jin-Sang after you told her how awkward things got after he asked you out. 

By the time you were back, you and Jin-Sang were on for Saturday.

Jin-Sang [1:46pm]: can’t wait :3

And as much as you couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin, you honestly couldn’t either.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You couldn’t see him but Jimin was right by your side every step of the way. He was there with you and Mina sitting at the empty table beside you both. 

For some strange reason he’d hoped your talk with Mina would deter you from going through with this, that for some reason she would say to choose him despite it being impossible. Even in the vague way you explained your situation, she still chose Jin-Sang. 

Jin-Sang was the correct choice after all. 

Jimin had taken a small break yesterday from watching over you in order to get his head back in the game. That weird pain he felt deep down just got worse anytime he’d look at you.

He’d tried his best to convince himself that this was the right choice, that saying goodbye was what you should be doing. It was easier to accept when he was far away from you, in the refuge of that forest he found himself at whenever things got too hard.

It was easier to look at things objectively and accept that he had his fun with you, but now it was time to say goodbye for good and for things to go back to normal between you too.

Jimin only saw you briefly yesterday, anytime there was a sin that he would detect he was back next to you in a flash and taking all his frustration out on the monstrosity. 

Today he thought things would be different, he thought the day yesterday was enough to get past the worst of it and for you both to begin your path to normalcy again.

But hearing you and Mina talk… when you said that you and this ‘mysterious guy you couldn’t be with’ had broken up he nearly lost it entirely. 

A violent tornado formed around him in an instant and he just screamed out into the void that he lived in. Hearing those words made the realization hit him so much on how you would go back to staring right through him.

You were so close yet so far.

He would be nothing to you.

He remembered the pain he felt only months ago watching you live your life and he couldn’t be a part of it no matter how much he wanted to. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

He knew you texted Jin-Sang about the date but he was gone to the forest all over again. His head was swimming with all these unfamiliar emotions and he didn’t know what to do. 

He had no one to talk to, he couldn’t tell his teammates— they all thought he was done with you already and certainly if he revealed it now he wouldn’t be granted with the advice he craved for. 

Instead in his rage he nearly turned to the most drastic measures. 

Alone in the forest, he felt cursed. He detested the life he lived, if he was normal, if he was human there would be no reason you both couldn’t be together.

His handle had turned into a small blade, his shirt had been discarded somewhere in the brush. The words that painted his skin all were blackened out and he still had healing scars from all the repenting he had to do. 

At first this was only meant to be a reminder of the reason he needed to leave you, to see the damage you had caused him. But he wanted it to hurt, to hurt more than this burn he felt more from the inside because even then he still wanted to be with you.

Jimin had unfolded his wings and had them resting in his lap with the blade only centimeters away. He’d gotten as far as the knife had managed to graze the delicate feathers and it sent him screaming. 

His knife had managed to put a slight tear in one of the feathers and that alone made him pass out.

He’d wanted them off entirely but his wings were too sensitive to try and do it willingly. Apparently his body rejected the idea.

Or really he didn’t want them off, he just wanted to be normal so you both could have your life together.

When he woke up merely seconds later Jimin felt different. 

It was strange.

Beforehand, despite all the pain, he was going to try to leave you alone. He was going to try to say goodbye, no matter how much it hurt.

But now… His other half was silent and for once he felt like he could think for himself. Suddenly it all made sense now and what he wanted became so clear.

Why couldn’t he be selfish for once?

You were his after all.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

It was the big day, Saturday.

Jimin had been watching you as you started getting ready. Your date wasn’t till four but since it’s been a while since you’ve gone on a first date, you were feeling nervous with an extra need to make yourself look presentable so you started the process early so you didn’t have to rush. 

Jimin hated the way he felt, he hated the way you felt even more. 

You were giddy, eager for tonight— for a man that wasn’t him. 

Jimin had no right to be upset. 

But he was.

This flame just grew as he watched you get ready steadily. And you looked so good too…

You always did…

The situation just felt unfair.

Why did Jin-Sang get to have you?

The whole argument centered around the fact you thought he wasn’t real, but he existed just like anyone else in the world? Why did he have to give in for the sake of some human?

He would be better to you, he knew he would. So why did he need to be the one to let you go?

It just pissed him off even more. Were you so easily forgetting who you belong to?

You were his and he was yours. Why did he need to suffer and watch you live on? It was unfair, this shit was so unfair.

He’s sacrificed so much for you already and now he was the one who had to give up? 

Jimin didn’t like the nasty emotion that just kept growing as he watched you.

Anytime you’d text Jin-Sang about later he felt like he wanted to slam himself into a building. He felt an even greater urge to fly over to his apartment and set things straight. He didn’t know what came over him. 

This was meant to be the right choice yet it didn’t feel like it. 

And then…

Though he was here with you, he knew at the moment Jin-Sang was on the phone with his friend about whether it was weird to bring condoms on the first date or not. Jin-Sang was saying “what if she thinks that’s the only thing I want?” but his friend was saying to bring them “just in case, you never know how this date might go.”

Jimin wanted to go over and slap him for even thinking about it, but again he had no right. It just made him think back to what things were like with your last boyfriend. It was hard then to manage, but now… now…

Anger cursed through his body the closer the time got because it wasn’t fucking fair.

You were his. He was your boyfriend, you were his girlfriend.

He should be the one you’re so giddy to see later, he should be the one you’re so tentatively getting ready for a date for. It should be him, it should be him, this wasn’t fair.

Because it truly wasn’t.

If things were different— no fuck that. 

Jimin should have left, given himself another day, maybe to cool off. Maybe even a more official break would have been the best thing to do to give himself time to reset. He shouldn’t have stayed but it was that same strange, nasty emotion he hated that brought him into a whole new problem. 

It was only a few hours to your date and you were chilling on your bed, a silk robe the only thing covering your body. You’d already showered and done all the pampering you needed to. You even had your dress laid out on the bed beside you after you spent nearly two hours on the phone with Mina about what to wear. 

You both decided on something casual enough since you were just going out to coffee, but still was sophisticated in its slight pretty elements. It was a simple, black, short sleeve dress that had cute heart shaped buttons going down about halfway, its white collar and the way it gently hugged your curves gave it that level of spice that Mina said it would be perfect for the date. You also had this tiny white purse and fun, cute shoes that also had hearts on it to match.

It was very different to how you dress at work but that was exactly the point.

All you needed to do now was get your clothes on, do your hair and makeup and then you were out the door. It might seem like a lot, but you knew you wanted to give yourself some time to make sure everything was perfect.

Laying here though after all the hectiness of trying to get ready, it was only for a split second did you feel sleepy. You didn’t think too much of it though, you were about to get up soon anyway, but it’s like this wave suddenly overtook you and before you had time to react you were out cold. 

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until suddenly your eyes shot open and you were back underneath the tree you used to find yourself every night under. It had been a few days since you’d last seen Jimin, nearly a week at this point since that emotional fiasco happened last time. 

Even though you’d tried to end things with Jimin, you were honestly glad to find yourself back. Last time just didn’t feel like the right place to leave on. 

You looked around a second wondering where he was until suddenly you heard footsteps on the other side of the tree. You moved around and low and behold there was Jimin leaning against the tree with his arms crossed.

“Jimin?” You tested already sensing something was off. 

“So you’re really doing this…” His voice was low and you sensed the attitude behind his words. 

“We talked about this already, as much as I want to be with you, you know that can’t happen.” You sighed, slightly annoyed you needed to repeat yourself but understood this was hard. But why was your consciousness doing this to you?

Jimin finally looked over to you and he was staring at you with that same dark gaze that you saw last time. You could still see the raging storm in his eyes, you could see the pain and hurt you’d caused.

Jimin started walking closer to you.

“And after everything we've been through, you still think I’m not real?” The question seemed to ring in your head as the words settled in the air.

Jimin kept moving closer and you were just stunned because you didn’t know what to say. Of course this wasn’t real… it couldn’t be real.

You never stopped him as he came close enough so your back was against the tree, his arms coming up by your head, effectively caging you in. 

“You really still think that…” He looked shattered as he stared into your eyes.

“Jimin…” His name fell from your lips unintentionally, it was almost a sob seeing that look in his eyes. He backed up slightly, disappointment written all over his features. He paced around for a few seconds.

“Or is that what you want that to be the case?” Jimin suddenly turned back to you, he was angry, malice laced in his words. 

“What?” Your eyes were teary but you were confused. Where was this coming from? 

“Jimin you know—“

“Do I?” He laughed.

“You just keep telling yourself that I’m not real so you don’t feel guilty about doing shit like this.” The accusation was insane and entirely unfair, but Jimin wanted it to hurt as much as you hurt him. 

You had been sympathetic at first, but that quickly was wearing thin the more he talked, because this made no sense. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? For someone who’s always in my head, this one time you’re choosing to ignore any it and make these stupid fucking claims?” Now you were angry, more than that actually because why was Jimin making this so hard for you?

“Hard for you?! Do you even know—“ Jimin had to stop himself real quick, the pain was overwhelming at this point. Why did this hurt so much? He didn’t know how to handle this at all. 

“You promised we’d try…” You don’t know how much those words meant to him back then. To hear that you’d be willing to put up with his incompetence when it came to this type of relationship, it meant the world to him. He’d been so scared of messing things up, he’d already had but you’d so easily forgiven his mistakes and he thought things were going good so far. 

“I did! But… Jimin we tried, and we tried as far as we could. I love the time we spent together and I wish, Jimin please hear me, I wish we could try more— into the real world. I wish I could go out and introduce you to people as my boyfriend, but I can’t! Look around, we’re in my head! This isn’t real, none of this is real and as much as I’ve enjoyed my time with you Jimin this is just a sign I need to move—“

The pain just got worse and worse.

“That would make things so much easier.” His attention wasn’t on you anymore, he couldn’t look at you, instead he stared down at his bare feet in the lush green grass.

“What are you sayi—“ Before you could finish he took a step closer to you once again.

“It wouldn’t hurt as much seeing you go off with him.” He’d gotten real quiet, but you could hear the quiver in his voice.

He took another step closer so he was standing directly in front of you. His hand came up steadily to intertwine his fingers with your own, so soft and gentle.

“I’m sorry… it just hurts so much and I don’t know what to do.” He steadily lifted your hand so it was resting on his shoulder. He finally raised his head to look up at you and you could have broken down right there seeing how dark his eyes had grown. 

“Jimin…”

“I’ve never felt like this before and it just hurts so fucking much. I’m sorry.” He truly did feel bad about what he said. It wasn’t right to take this out on you. But he was still mad, this was all so unfair. 

“I wish— I wish things were different.” You looked up at him with sad eyes, hoping he could sense your own pain in this. 

“Why couldn’t you be someone I knew— a coworker, a highschool classmate I forgot about, a stranger I pass by everyday on the way to work— anything.” You sighed, frustrated honestly. 

Even if the real life Jimin wasn’t anything like the one who’s made his way into your dreams every night, it still would be a relief to know he was there, that you could actually reach out and touch him, that you haven’t gone absolutely crazy over a person who didn’t exist.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Jimin cried once again in your head when he shouldn’t be. 

“Because it’s the truth—“ 

“I wish this wasn’t real! If I didn’t exist then I wouldn’t have to live like this— watch you run off with some other guy because I can’t be with you. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much…” It really would be better.

Every time you’d leave the dream he wouldn’t know what was happening, he would cease to exist until your mind conjured him up once again. Things would be so simple, wouldn’t it? He wished that was the case. Did you seriously not know?

He already knew that answer.

“Jimin… you seriously can’t tell me you think this is real?” Your eyes were sympathetic as you lightly ran your finger over his shoulder, before moving up to rub his neck. 

Your words flipped a switch inside, you saw it happen with your own eyes, his sad gaze turning dark all in a second. 

Suddenly Jimin started leaning in close, he was only centimeters from your lips.

“Is that what you want?” His voice was low, dangerous, like that was a challenge. 

“Huh…” You were out of it, you couldn’t concentrate with him so close.

“Is that what you want— you wanna run off with him?” He was pissed again and back with the outrageous claims. 

“Jimin—“

Suddenly you felt your other hand being lifted to rest on his shoulder as well, to which you finally wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“This isn’t real?” He looked you right in the eyes.

“You’re trying to tell me what I feel for you isn’t real?” You hurt him again and you didn’t know what to say. Of course to him this was his reality but for you—

“Stop doing that!” He exclaimed, his gaze staring right through your soul. 

You didn’t know what to say and Jimin didn’t want you to anymore, instead he finally closed the gap that was between you. His soft, plump lips melted against yours as you felt that fiery explosion of butterflies you did every time you and Jimin kissed. 

You tried to pull him as close as you could, you wanted him to feel how no matter what, you truly did wish you could be with him. 

But then he pulled away enough to separate the kiss, making a whine escape your lips. 

“You’re mine.” He breathed out as his hands traveled down to rest on your hips. 

“Jimin—“ Before you could finish you were silenced by his lips on yours again. 

“Shut up— please, please shut the fuck up.” He sighed in between kissing you. 

And this time you listened. For all you knew this might be the last time you’re seeing each other and there was no point going back and forth like this. Instead you wanted to leave this off on a positive note.

“You’re mine.” Jimin reiterated again because apparently you weren’t understanding. 

This just made you kiss him harder. It quickly grew hot, heavy, and needy because you just wanted him close and this just wasn’t cutting it.

“Fuck—“ You moaned as he hurriedly pulled on his sweater. 

“Do you understand? You’re mine.”  He needed you to understand. He was tired of playing the act that he was fine with letting you go— no you were his. It was just that simple.

Jimin had your back pressed hard into the bark in the tree, one hand on your waist the other sliding up your arm to finally cup your cheek to angle you just as he needed you. 

His body was on fire faster than he could handle and he didn’t know why. This strange rage just made him want you even more than he could process. It almost hurt— he needed to slow down—

“Jimin, please— fuck, please!” You cried needing more. You didn’t have to ask again before suddenly you were falling once again and your back was against the soft grass with Jimin hovering right on top of you. 

Your breathing was heavy as you stared at each other, his dark eyes staring right into your own, a pained expression on his features. 

But the moment apart was short lived as Jimin dove straight down to your neck, hastily planting kisses across your hot skin. 

“You’re mine.” The grit in his voice, it was almost if he growled right in your ear and you nearly lost it all together. 

Your legs hurriedly came up to wrap around his waist to pull him closer. 

It was then when Jimin panicked a bit— you were so close— sin, so much sin, he needed to stop he should stop but—

Jimin’s lips were back on yours in a hurry, you moaned lightly as you felt him start to rock into your heat. So good, it felt so good. 

Your hands, your hands coming up to quickly tangle in his hair, this— then your lips were on his neck, kissing, sucking, marking him up like he hoped it would.

Jimin let out a pained moan because the words on his body were burning so much it hurt but you felt so good. This strange mix of pleasure and pain had his body confused and he bucked faster into you because fuck—

He should have stopped, he needed to stop but it just never felt like it was enough. He needed you to know who you belonged to.

By now he would have stopped because the longer you kissed the more excited he knew he was getting. He never wanted things to get that far, scared he might reach a point of no return, but something about today was different, he wanted you to feel just how much he wanted you.

And it didn’t take very long for that to happen…

It was too much. Every touch, every kiss he gave to you, he could feel it all. The connection you shared allowed him to feel for the both of you and it quickly got overwhelming.

He couldn’t control it and it just made that fire burn uncontrollably as your fervent hands ran down up and down his back and through his hair.

He loved kissing you, he loved touching you and he loved how it felt when you did it back. And to think this was sin— it was, it had to be in the way you practically bewitched him.

“Jimin…” You moaned softly because you could feel it now. 

Jimin broke away from you slightly to grab your hand and trailed it down over the fabric of his toned chest, down to his waistband of his sweatpants, and then you could feel the outline. 

Jimin groaned as he lightly rubbed himself along your hand. 

“Does this not feel real to you?” He could hardly get it out, his mind was fuzzy and he was screaming at himself not to push this any further but he just couldn’t stop.

Your eyes stared right into his with pain because as much as you wanted to—

“Stop doing that!” He whined, your hand was right there.  

He couldn’t think straight anymore, he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to understand how much he wanted you, he wanted you to realize it.

Jimin quickly pulled your hand away and was kissing you once again with even more ferocity. He had to make you understand, he couldn’t lose you. 

He pushed into you, faster, harder, so fucking desperate.

You weren’t quite understanding the situation, you honestly thought that this was just going to be a heated goodbye. You thought this was your consciousness giving you one last hooray with Jimin before you needed to come back down to reality.

You just knew if you both weren’t naked in the next thirty seconds you were going to lose your mind. But Jimin thwarted any attempts you made at pulling down his sweatpants, even taking off his sweater proved to be an impossible task and you might have been more confused if Jimin didn’t make sure your attention stayed on him nonetheless. 

You had never felt this turned on yet sexually frustrated simultaneously, but you enjoyed the grind, the hurried pace he set and you just wanted him too—

Suddenly a pain whined left his lips and you felt his hips falter slightly. 

Oh? Was he close?

You pulled him closer, needing him as close as he could get.

If only—

You were so distracted by Jimin you hardly noticed things started to change around you. The beautiful meadow in your mind slowly started to drift away but all you could focus on was Jimin’s moans and his lips on yours.

It didn’t dawn onto you until it steadily started to realize you didn’t feel the grass against your back. The thought was brief compared to the feeling of Jimin hastily pulling off of you. 

You finally opened your eyes and you were shocked to see you were staring up at what you quickly recognized as your bedroom’s ceiling.

You blinked a couple of times before you finally turned beside you where all the commotion was coming from.  

Someone was beside you. 

It almost sounded like they were in pain at their low groans and how they almost seemed curled up beside you. And it almost sounded like—

You hesitantly sat up and low and behold you saw Jimin’s pained face as he was clutching onto one of your pillows.

It was Jimin but he looked slightly different, gone was his blue hair, matching sweater and sweatpants— instead he was wearing a white, short sleeve shirt, with matching white flowy pants, he was also blonde again.

What was going on?

“Jimin?’ You finally said something.

The longer you sat here the more you realized something was off. That haziness, dreamy, whimsical feeling you always felt when you were with Jimin wasn’t here. 

You looked down and you weren’t wearing your pretty white dress, instead your silky olive green robe you had thrown over the lingerie you had put on.

You looked around more and in fact this was your room, it looked exactly like your room eerily similar. Even the clothes you had set out for your date crumbled up underneath Jimin’s feet.

This seemed real… too real.

You felt awake.

“Jimin…?” You tried again, this time lightly placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren’t seeing things, you could feel him, and at your touch he finally looked at you for a split second.

Light brown eyes looked back over you. 

You could touch him, he was warm, and his pained whines…

Suddenly your whole conversation came back to you.

“And after everything we've been through, you still think I’m not real?”

You sat there waiting for you to wake up for real but the more you stared at Jimin the more you felt like that wouldn’t happen.

“Are—are you happy now?” His voice was muffled beside you by the pillow. 

“I told you, you were mine…”

Suddenly it slapped you in the face.

You weren’t dreaming… were you?

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[spookitordukeit]

Bro, I love your stories, you don't understand, I love them so much! Might I have an infodump on dykwyk?

[Edit: I jump topics a bit so I’ve added a • marker to any time I seem to shift focus]

Hi! Hello! You 🫵 Yes you, the raccoon shaped fellow in the back 👁️👁️ we are having a spring wedding.

I’m soooooo deranged and unhinged you have no idea, absolutely no idea the series of events you have just launched into motion. Bear witness to the uber instincts of my uber autism:

I’m not sure if you had anything in mind with this ask so I’m just gonna spew a bunch of random things and whatever comes to mind—

• Uhhhhh Nexus! I’m in absolute love with Nexus, and I honestly consider it one of my best concepts— there’s so many parts to it that even I struggle to comprehend it in its entirety…. And I created the thing!!

• It’s… well, kinda on the level of a cosmic being??? Nobody knows if it’s alive or has thoughts, if it knows what it’s doing or is just driven by instinct, or something close to it. Like one of those island turtles in mythology.

I explain it a Little in chapter two, but it is quite literally in the center of all known universes. If you’ve ever heard of the cosmic web, it’s basically that. Nexus is the center of that web, acting as both the anchor, and the spider itself as it grows and captures more AU’s.

Why is it doing this?? No fucking idea. It’s cosmic, otherworldly, lovecraftian— it’s beyond any living creatures comprehension.

• The Nexus AU itself is shaped almost identically to earth, except it’s around six times the size. A few things might very, but most of the major land masses and landmarks are there. I don’t think I have any place in specific in mind for where our particular story takes place, but seeing as I live in the US, and have never even been outside my state— it’ll probably end up americanized in someway. Apologies for that.

•The history is also vastly changed as well, I’m not sure which wars would’ve even happened with the interference of Monsters around tbh— I feel like a lot of them wouldn’t have happened, or if they had, they would’ve been vastly different. Especially depending on what kind of Verse was in power at the time… a Fell verse in power would’ve been a lot different from a Swap verse in power during something like the World Wars—

Idk, maybe I’ll think more on that later buts it’s not really relevant to the plot as of now.

• As for the time period? Probably the same as our current one, but with the help of higher technology and magic. I mean— they have alternate reality traveling machines— just out there! For people to use! Harper has a permanent portal, a rip in the void for her cat installed, for stars sake.

It’s all very fantastical, and I’m definitely looking forward to exploring it more :3

• Other then that, there’s also a sort of class system… unfortunately.

Harper’s family is considered one of the more higher classes in society. They are wealthy, they have connections, and most importantly: they come from directly from one of the first Monster rulers.

Family lineage, title, and generational wealth mean everything in this world. Who you come from matters infinitely more then who you are. That’s not to say that it isn’t important to make a name for yourself— no, no. You will constantly be under scrutiny, anything and everything you do will either harm and bluster the weight behind your family name. Any minor infraction will be remembered long past your lifetime, you must always be exemplary.

• Thankfully, not much is expected of Harper. All she has to do is obey her parents and look pretty in public. She won’t be inheriting her parents fortune or responsibilities, so some of that weight is taken off her shoulders.

…in theory.

In reality, the standard that Harper is held up to is infinitely higher then the one Kristen is held to.

Harper must alway be perfect, must always be calm and pleasant, must always say and do the right thing and must always look presentable.

She has a title to uphold, her sisters future title. She mustn’t do anything to tarnish it.

The poor girls trauma has trauma— she is very mentally unwell, but fuck it we ball amiright?

At least she has her kitty and Grandmas house :D even if Kristen decided to move in without even asking— not like it can get any worse. Right?

*various bone noises in the distance that seem to only grow closer*

Huh. I’m sure that’ll end well…

• More on Harper’s family, her beloved grandma Edith was also a bit of an outcast. She was kind and gentle, and cared about silly things like preserving nature and helping those below her. But unfortunately for Edith’s parents, she was an only child, and this the only one who could inherit their wealth and family line.

• Edith, was also autistic. Something both her and Harper had in common. Unfortunately, it’s regarded as a blight on the family name.

• It was quiet the scandal, but Edith left just about everything to Harper in her will. Her wealth, her properties, her land rights, staff, family heirlooms— everything.

Harper’s family couldn’t do much about it, and Harper has been in too much grief to even look at anything. If anything, it’s just another reason for her family to resent her. As well as another reason to keep her around, if they want to be able to access anything of the things left to her.

Rapid fire facts, go!

• Have I mentioned that I’m insane about enemies to friends/lovers??? Because I am. Very much so. Especially enemies to friends to enemies to friends to lovers. It will happen in this story. And I’m so looking forward to it.

• Briefly mentioned in chapter two, but outertale and other space AU’s exist in this au. They are on the moon and other planets. ALIEN ON THE MOON 👽

• Auriga is the product of an outertale grillby and a classic muffet. She is very pretty and I love her a lot. Very grandma coded. She’s named after the spider nebula (IC 417) located within the Auriga constellation.

• Sulfur is a horror-grillby. He no longer looks like a fire elemental, and looks more like a lava creature. Think Te Kā from Moana. He played the role of ‘sans’ in his universe.

• There will be no mention of Ink, Error, Death, Nightmare, Dream, or any of the other big shots in this fic. They exist, but the scope of their being is far too massive to make any sense within the, comparatively, narrow lenses that my story focuses on. I love them, but Harper has no business dealing with gods /silly

• little description of Harper’s physical appearance (if your interested). She’s average height, maybe a little taller, and she’s on the thinner side. (For now, we’ll fix her unhealthy eating habits later dw) She’s got black hair that goes just past her shoulders, with loose waves and a side part.

She’s got them Harry Potter big circle glasses because of her bad vision and heavy dislike of contacts. They’re metal and a silver color that works well with the rest of her jewelry. Whenever she decides to wear any. She’s a silver girly, Kristen is more fond of gold.

Her eyes are bright blue, because I haven’t had a character with blue eyes yet and I might as well. Also because I have that Blue Eyed Stare and I want some representation dammit.

She doesn’t have any freckles, but she does have a slight case of rosacea. (She just like me fr)

She’s conventionally  attracted, with a stereotypical CEO look or something like that. Her and Kristen look like they could be twins, even though Kristen is older and they have a four year gap.

I haven’t had the time to sketch them out, but I always make picrews of my MC’s so I have a reference:

Makòwa’s picrews are my fav, definitely check ‘em out if you ever need to get out a rough look out your characters!

They are both very pretty and I’m in love.

• Kristen has a title that is whispered amongst the higher social circles, something that is relevant to the plot and a hint to her abilities. The Seybold siren.

On the topic of titles— Kristen has a particularly nasty one for Harper: harpy.

Augghhhhh. I’ve been at this for a couple hours and I can’t think of anything else off the top of my head, so I’ll leave off here for now.

Thank you so much for the ask!! And I’m thrilled to hear that you’re enjoying my little stories :3

Always feel free to ask away! For clarification, or for something random, I’m always ready to yap 🫡

[mimicdragon]

I didn’t put it in the tags, but I promised myself I’d try working through my list of identities, try to get them up-to-date and more importantly just think about them and what they all mean to me. If things have changed, stay the same, or what more I have learnt.

(This was meant to happen yesterday on dragon appreciation day but life doesn’t like to listen XD)

Looking at the list I have in my pin and I already can see how much I used to mask parts of my identity even to the community itself that is meant to be for being more open about it. I mean I literally wrote I’m going to keep vague on one directly in the post. Which also meant I left a lot of details out surrounding it.

Also it just feels so, oddly done. I don’t really know a good way to list out my identities in a way that feels like it really captures them in an easy to understand way. It’s why I thought typing out my thoughts as I worked on them would probably be very helpful for me and maybe for others who read this.

I’m one of those people whom for a good amount of my types I also identify with the aspects of them a lot too. Not always, but.. most of the time. Enough to make my real list seem so much bigger than its primary parts. Which might be the best way for me to dive into what my identity is and how it all weaves together.

If I remove every “paratype” (in the strictest definition possible) identity from my list (including things  that I didn’t list) I’d have this:

(the identity I kept vague) — base personhood as an aseity alter

Alternate Pokémon Universe Creature — fiction kintype

dragon phantom — fictotheriotype

Terios the hedgehog — fictotype

leafeon — heartype

glaceon — heartype

Celesteela — vaguetype

John Constantine — lintype

I think to some that’s already a decent list, but ironically the literal theriotype I themed this blog around isn’t included. At the strictest definition of paratype, even that identity that literally awoken me to alterhumanity as a concept is just only because of something else. Almost everything else I identify with I feel is because of one of the above. Mostly just because of who I am at base.

Paratype is honestly such an amazing word and I’m very glad I was told about it. Through the framing of paratype it really showed me how my identities are mostly all branches splitting off of my base experiences that I didn’t remember at the time or couldn’t cope well with.

There was a post I remember seeing someone showed before, of a graphic showing how a lot of their identities had bubbles of overlap and how ‘high’ and ‘low’ kin in some ways made sense to them because of that feeling. Some are ‘higher’ in part because they had more connected attributes or were in a sense the reason for others. At least… that’s how my brain is remembering the post so long later. I can’t even remember who posted it. In some sense that’s exactly what I’m experiencing.

Part of me is terrified to admit it, but dammit the constant hiding and feeling like I need to move around it, isn’t doing me any favours. So fuck it. I’ll try to stop hiding being the real Mary Sue as they probably say lol.

At my at most base my identity is as a Dean Winchester. I can’t really say I can even recognise the show version of myself. It’s not like I had anything to do with it in my existence. Why I exist, other than it was by aseity isn’t really to do with me (and that’s telling on another mate’s shit so I won’t), but I’m a dark as fuck skinned Dean with curly blonde hair who was born nonhuman, due to a third parent the other two didn’t know about, and was raised human and then John found out and oh fuck did things not go well for me. Easiest simplest bit of it all.

My species as Dean I ended up choosing to call Risen Devil as it best fit. I was angel and devil, not fallen but instead considered holy as shit almost if because of the devil so it felt right. I when younger had vampiric attributes where I drank energy from demons, like a psychic vampire, but after some shit happened it turned into drinking grace from angels. Thus I started calling myself a celestial vampire. More of my life was spent existing with a draw towards grace than towards demon energy, so I never really gained an identity or connection to that aspect of my history but it’s hard not to still bond to general vampire things, especially when grace was basically angel blood for the ones I mostly dealt with.

( as a small aside obviously I was also born a witch, it’s in the family history and I hear even in canon and for us that is a biological species like thing? So I’m like extra attuned to magic with that gene?? I still got genes from my human parents obviously.)

Very quickly even from just that it’s really fast to see where the identities all start to pile on; especially when I never got to identify as the things I actual were in my own home and history. It’s hard not to feel like I want to cling and identify and be proud of what I could never there.

A lot of this I think people wouldn’t have considered paratypes. These would just be the base identities I have. Which I agree! That’s why the quotes around paratype before. But it felt useful to myself to even dissect it to that degree. Because these are aspects of what ‘Dean’ means to me, that no one else would see if I just wrote I’m Dean. So I just.. felt worth a base run down because it felt useful and important to me?

But then you got the genuine, to me, first level of paratypes. The identities I feel like I only have because of my lack of safety in my base history. The most obvious being the Non-Canon Detective Comics character.

I didn’t remember all of this stuff at first. Working through a lot of my exotrauma is what really started to open and make things make sense and things have been more consistent and constant since stabilising and remembering more of myself. But before I remembered I had weird neomatta and memories of a world I didn’t know of. That was the start of the DC fictotype.

I was sharing all these things to my friends about characters I didn’t know, about journeys and long story short it matched a lot of DC things. I was predicting the Gotham Knights game in aspects. Shit ya know. 

It ended up feeling solidified as a being known as the Golden Revival, born of Lucifer and The Voice, but unknown to have been born by either. A sheep/goat hybrid creature with one form representing mostly the goat, the devil, young-ness, masculine, and the artist, stuck with the colours of purple, violet, and blue; and another form representing mostly the sheep, the voiced, adult-ness, feminine, and the warrior, with the remaining colours of red, yellow, orange, and green.

The being at point -something- happened that ended up making the Voice punish him by locking away half of his memories (and the similar memories from the world) and the sheep side of himself. Locking him in a mostly basic and close to primal state. Mostly only feeling the primal emotions and scared of becoming known by society. He only ever interacted with his girlfriend and boyfriend who both knew him before it happened. The only real hint of the old memories was the girlfriend often accidentally called him the Golden Revival, instead of just Revival with neither knowing where it came from or why, but there must be a reason.

I can only say that this identity that formed was my subconscious trying to remind me of what I forgot. Even in this base sum up of details, so many things parallel and even more I don’t mention. From one of the parents erasing the memories and identity of Revival, there’s just so much there. It was like this identity was subconsciously using DC comics universe as a way to work through and remember what I couldn’t. It was letting me process and work through my issues.

Similar things I think is why Deep Sea Dragon Mimic is a thing. It also is an identity I feel I gained because of internalised unprocessed trauma and shit and hell it still is a safe identity to stay within. Instead of being such an on-the-nose aggressive neon sign of what I went through it’s like this was my subconscious’s way of letting me safely explore bits without the morals. A pure primal beast, but still with the same aspects of myself. A mimic, hiding in plan site. I pretending to be human to be safe, it instead twisting it into defence to being how it gets food. Turning a passive danger into a show of strength and skill. Living deep in the most uninhabitable spaces allowing me to run away from the hell of living with John and the stress of humans where none may enter. Having the innocent I never got. And I was born the year of the dragon, that’s all the reason to me it was a dragon being not some eel or something. It was the birth of me. Born in the year of the fire dragon but able to survive in the deepest waters. A strength I never felt I had.

The subconscious is a fucking powerful thing okay.

I still have so much more I could talk and go through but I think this is enough for one day. The tears are already flowing hard enough as it is. But it felt nice to actually get this out instead of leaving it in my head.

I should make a site of my own. I don’t want to loose this.

[trudemaethien]

Can I hear about defect, perfect?

Defect -

noun.

1. An imperfection or lack that causes inadequacy or failure; a shortcoming or deficiency.

2. Want or lack of anything; especially, the lack of something which is essential to perfection or completeness; a fault; a blemish; an imperfection

intransitive verb.

1. To disown allegiance to one's country and take up residence in another.

2. To abandon a position or association, often to join an opposing group.

Perfect -

adjective.

1. being entirely without fault or defect, flawless

2. satisfying all requirements, accurate

3. corresponding to an ideal standard or abstract concept

4. faithfully reproducing the original, specifically

5. legally valid

6. expert, proficient

7. pure, total

8. lacking in no essential detail, complete

9. absolute, unequivocal

10. of an extreme kind, unmitigated

11. certain, sure

12. contented, satisfied

transitive verb.

1. to bring to final form

2. to make perfect, improve, refine

They’d always known one or the other of them would end up in this position, the two most politically strategic clone commanders in the entire army.

They were the ones to organize and assign the sectors of responsibility below them, and had done their best to put the best combinations of clones together, following reams of training recommendations.

Their own training recommendations sit innocently before them. Scores, equal. Prowess, matched. Citations, neck and neck.

Neither of them want the Capital Guard, but neither do they want to inflict it upon the other.

They have gone over every line item and found neither of them has an edge, no justification to swing the decision one way or the other. They agree that they cannot agree.

“Let’s flip for it,” Fox finally says.

Cody stares at him, anguish and stubbornness in his eyes, before he picks up a circular token, the sort they’ve been using to weigh down flimsi and denote units. The top is engraved.

Without a word, he takes a deep breath and flips it into the air, high, higher. As it spins, glittering, Fox thinks, I should have done it.

“Call it,” Cody orders, hand clamped over the piece on his wrist. “Call this one for yourself, and the next flip will be for the unit.”

“Tails,” Fox says right away.

Cody lifts his hand. “Tails,” he repeats, showing it to Fox. “Call again.”

He starts to flick it up a second time, and Fox steps toward him, saying, “Let me—”

“No, you cardsharp, call it,” Cody snaps, the piece still in midair.

“Heads for Trip Zip,” Fox says, and tries to be the one to catch it. Both tosses shouldn’t be on one man’s conscience. But Cody shoulders him out of the way and snatches it out of the air, slapping it onto his gloved hand with more spite than is necessary.

He stares at Fox, not lifting his hand. “Maybe we should redo this one,” he offers chidingly, “and you keep your hands to yourself this time.”

“Just show it,” Fox snaps, frustrated. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Cody steels himself and lifts his hand away, seeming torn between looking and not, as though the token might take after Schrödinger’s Tooka.

Fox has no such compunction. He takes in the smooth circular surface, and then looks up at his brother’s unreadable face. “Congratulations, Cody, Commander of the Coruscant Guard.”

“Congratulations, Fox, Marshal Commander of the GAR,” Cody echoes softly.

“Are you okay?” Fox asks. “I swear I didn’t cheat. Do you want to redo it? We can.”

“No,” Cody says, “no, I’m fine. I know you didn’t. It’s—it’ll be alright.”

“Do you want—”

“We’re done,” Cody says levelly, setting down the token and nudging the last of the flimsi and datapads into order. Fox gets a flash of him, older, doing that somewhere in a little office on a dreary city-planet. “I’m going off duty, and I’ll see you later.”

He inputs the final two personnel allocations, sets the holotable’s tamper lock, and looks Fox in the eyes, warning clear. Then he about faces and leaves the war room.

😌(🥺)

[coderfortourette]

California Analysis

California is an interesting character. Because he’s supposed to be hypocritical. It’s not bad writing or Ben forgetting who Cali is when he writes the sketches. It’s on purpose. California is hypocritical.

And I think he’s also an unreliable narrator character. He does things to make himself look better/make other people look worse. 

His reactions to other states having “good ideas” is pretty evident of it. Like- he’s trying to convince people that Kentucky or New Mexico or Kansas having a good idea is a rare and unheard of thing. That these states just aren’t “as good” as him. 

I think it’s really interesting how he does this with his friendships. 

Because he does have friends. He states it himself in a sketch (”My gay friend Michael” which I’ll also cover his group vs individual interactions because I think that’s interesting. And plays more into my hypocritical point above)

And- if California did not have friends, nobody would have shown up to his Halloween party. And this isn’t just me saying that- it’s shown in that sketch itself when Washington and Oregon purposefully ignore California calling/inviting them. 

Kentucky was kind to him and offered to go somewhere with California in one sketch. But California heard that it was to “Hillbilly” thing and turned it down because of his own biases.

I think part of why some states aren’t as nice to him is because he’s not as nice to them. Whether they started it and California is just returning it. Or it’s like the Kentucky situation or the way he reacts to things like mentioned above. At this point I think he’s got himself stuck in an endless loop of behavior with the others. And they’d actually need to work to break out of the non-stop nastiness to each other. Because California isn’t as innocent as he likes to act. But the others aren’t as awful as California thinks either

I have a theory that every time he complains that he doesn’t have friends- it’s during an instance when one of his friends did something that he didn’t approve of or that made him upset. And it doesn’t have to be like- they insulted him and that made him upset. It could be like when Austin corrected California (something Cali does to other people a lot- another for the hypocritical side) and California acted like Austin was attacking him. The “I have no friends” is an attempt to guilt people around him. An unreliable narrator type of thing. Victim complex scenario? (Whatever words best describe that. I’ve been leaning a bit toward victim complex because of his reaction in the Austin situation and stuff)

Speaking of Austin and stuff- his actions towards a group versus and individual. Or rather- an idea/concept versus an individual

Because yes, we do seem him being on the pro-LGBT+ side. But also, as we can see in his actions in the Gays Join the Table sketch, he’s still like- a Straight Cis Ally (tm) when it comes to interacting with Dan 1-on-1. Or how he talks about Michael as though he’s Cali’s Token Gay Friend. (He also has a tendency to try and center himself in the conversation. Make it about what he does right.)

He speaks of promoting services to help people. With housing, etc. But Texas has that snow storm the first time. And California’s reaction is “Let him freeze”. Because it’s Texas. A Red state. A “Bad” state. (And I could get into Texas also being a hypocritical character, though he goes about it differently so maybe my next analysis will be him) (Also an analysis on Gov. I think he’s a character that goes through a cycle, and I’ll have to explain that later)

The second time Texas freezes- California is just like creepily obsessed with Austin. And when Utah says “hey, we’re facing a similar issue” California shuts him down. Because California views Austin in a higher light than Utah. In a weird possessive/obsessive way. (Truly- I don’t think he likes Austin for Austin. I think he likes him because he appears to be the “anti-Texas” and California can’t separate his perception from reality. As we can see with again- his reactions to other states doing things he doesn’t expect from them)

The walk in sketch- there’s a few characters I would have thrown things at in that one. And California is at the top of the list. He lacks an understanding of consent in that situation. It’s implied that the person changing is saying that they want him to leave, and he’s ignoring them because “it’s ok, you don’t have to be uncomfortable with your body” which is also kinda missing the point of the whole thing. And this next part will be interpretation- but I feel like if it was a conversation at the table as a hypothetical, in that situation California would be more so on the side of “they said no so listen to them”. (This is more of a hypothetical based on his past behavior around things)

(Also in that Walk in sketch I would probably throw something at Rhode Island for his reaction. Florida for not leaving. Delaware, probably New York. And definitely Utah)

I dunno. Just some thoughts on California. A little analysis on what we see in sketches

 I might try to explore the “Unreliable Narrator” aspect of him in some fics. Maybe conflict it against how some other characters fill the role at times. I’ll add it to my WIP list

[quillyfied]

Hellaverse Theories: Hazbin Hotel S1E1

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse and probably get a lot wrong because I am still a brand-new fan and don’t have a lot of past context outside of the shows themselves! Tbh I'm not sure that I'm too interested in getting bogged down in a lot of information that isn't useful to analyzing the shows as they are now, but a few of you lovelies said you'd like to hear my thoughts, so let's get started! (I attempted to have this in a bulleted list but I think Tumblr counts a bulleted list as a single text block and...wow they do not like it when you exceed that text block character limit and buddies I EXCEEDED IT.)

Okay, starting with Hazbin Hotel s1e1:

The first thing that immediately strikes me is Charlie’s story: it’s an immediate tip-off that the background information we’re receiving is not the entire story, but a watered-down child’s story version putting Charlie right at the center (no moral judgement, she’s the main character and allowed to be the main character about it). There are many hints later on from Lucifer and Sera that Charlie (and Emily, but I’ll talk more about her when I get to her episode) doesn’t know the whole story, but right from the get-go we the audience should know that this isn’t all the information. It’s all the RELEVANT information, told from a certain point of view, and it’s valuable worldbuilding and background-setting, but it isn’t all the lore. Why would it be? We can’t handle the lore. This is the first two minutes at most.

Forty-seven seconds in, we’re set up with a simple and familiar dichotomy: there is a Heaven, and it worships Good and shuns Evil. Cool. Familiar narrative territory, what with pervasive cultural Christianity. My first theory that I’d bet real money on: that’s Roo, the dark shadowy figure representing evil. She’s never mentioned by name in Hazbin Hotel (though she has been in Helluva Boss, once during the first episode in a blink-and-you-miss-it exchange where Martha is waxing eloquent about sacrificing IMP to Satan and hoping her offering will continue to grow the Root of Evil).

I came across her name in passing on a tumblr post, and when I looked her up, I was delighted to learn that we know next to nothing about her whatsoever. Since Hazbin Hotel is the show with the large cosmic stakes, she’s probably going to pop up in HH first, if she ever does in HB. And assuming HH and HB are still allowed to be part of the same universe, what with copyright law being what it is and my complete lack of knowledge about what happens when an indie studio makes one show on their own and partners with a major streaming service for the other.

The appearance of the two figures representing Good and Evil, whoever they are (if anyone), is also super important for setting up the basic dichotomy to be challenged: if there is a Root of Evil, there must be a powerful force of Good to oppose it. And it clearly isn’t the angels. They’re introduced as subservient to it, but not embodying it. It’s fascinating too that God is never mentioned in either show except as an expletive; if God is Good, then maybe the figure representing Good is also God, but that’s more an errant thought, since in familiar Christian mythology, Satan is supposed to be the ultimate evil, and that is clearly not his position in the Hellaverse. Same goes for Lucifer.

These embodied higher concepts might even be eldritch in the sense that they are too big and unknowable for the rest of the cast, though if this is Roo we’re seeing, she has some very interesting visual similarities to Eve.

(Just want to point out too that Good has its eyes closed, while Evil has its eyes open; now it just makes me wonder if Good is something more fragile and childlike, something to be protected, and I think a later episode will support this hypothesis, but more when I get there.)

Also Hell being Lucifer’s attempt at creating his own universe and it’s a CIRCUS. IT IS A CIRCUS. HE MADE A CIRCUS. A *CIRCUS*. The recurring circus motifs in the Hellaverse are fascinating, but I am wondering if there’s a deeper metaphor in there or if Viv just really likes the aesthetics.

Also I just realized that it’s an instrumental version of “More Than Anything” that’s playing during Lucifer and Lilith finding each other and then giving Eve the apple and I want to curl up in a ball.

Okay, here: Evil finding its way into Earth uses a very specific sort of motif. Almost…tree-like. Or perhaps even…root-like??? And I am so desperate to know the mechanics of this: how was Roo kept out from the angels’ pet project universe? If God isn’t here or at least isn’t important, who put the Tree of Knowledge there? Evil finding a door in through Knowledge—and thus Free Will—is one thing, but Evil’s introduction to Heaven’s perfect universe and THAT being what creates Hell feels…incomplete. We don’t have all the information, for a variety of very frustrating Watsonian and Doylist reasons that infuriate me.

We don’t know where the Sins came from, because Hell as it exists in HH and as it exists in HB are two very different Hells, despite being possibly the same. HH Hell is finite, cramped, and small, meant more to be as one side of a two-sided cosmic conflict. HB Hell is vast, colorful, and complex, a stage on which to play out character arcs and explore the environment. HH Hell isn’t the Pride Ring; it’s just Hell. There’s no need to mention any mechanic about sinners being unable to leave Pride, because it’s such basic knowledge that even acknowledging the rest of Hell doesn’t make sense, since sinners can’t visit it anyway. It’s as out of reach to them as Earth and Heaven.

But the seven-ring structure of Hell still shows up in the background of Hazbin Hotel, although whether that’s an easter egg for devoted Hellaverse fans or a real element of the world remains to be seen. And the Doylist reason for this outside of copyright whosiwhatsit is very simple: Charlie’s categorically insane plan to redeem sinners makes less sense when the option to figure out how to let sinners expand into the rest of a sprawling Hell is just as impossible but probably more sensible, since it doesn’t require provoking a proven genocidal tormentor (Heaven).

(Okay not to say that the other denizens of Hell would be any more welcoming and less genocidal but there’s a possibility of maybe working it out easier…though the first beings on the chopping block to make room if sinners start flooding other rings are imps and hellhounds, who are already on the bottom rungs of Hellish society and truly cannot survive outside of Hell or have a shot at redemption to relocate to Heaven, since they presumably don’t have souls that can undergo such a change. Though. Y’know. Soul as a mechanic versus soul as a metaphor are two very different things.)

(Also, y’know how Lucifer is called the King of Hell in HH but because of term differences across the Hellaverse shows, we really have no idea if he’s the King of All of Hell or just the King of Pride? Though either way, it’s my fervent belief that Lucifer himself can’t leave Pride either. Being forced to watch the sinners destroy themselves is his eternal punishment. He’s powerful, but I’m not sure it’s just crippling depression keeping him locked in his ducky room.)

Anyway it’s been thirty minutes of typing and I’m still less than two minutes into the first episode. Let’s crack on.

Okay, here: Lucifer has clearly been a broken person since the start of Hell and its apparent purpose. Hell was called the pit that he and Lilith created—but did they create it, or did their actions allow it to manifest? There’s a difference. But the cracks in their partnership are already starting to show from Lucifer’s despondency and Lilith stepping up and thriving in this new environment. And again, will talk more about this later, but the nature of Lilith and Adam’s afterlives are incredibly unique for what we know about the mechanics of Heaven and Hell in HH, and I for one am incredibly desperate to get more details on them, if we ever will.

Another detail we don’t know: when the Exterminations began to happen. Again, Charlie is our only source of information on any of this background knowledge; in a later episode, she says they just had a meeting and Lucifer agreed to them.

Later in this first episode, Lute makes sure Charlie knows that the Hellborn are spared from Exterminations only by Lucifer’s will (the implication being that if the Exorcists had their way, they’d be killing everything in sight, but that bit of clemency is significant; was Charlie born by the time the Exterminations began? Were Lucifer and Lilith trying for kids? Does Lilith count as Hellborn? Because thanks to Helluva Boss, we know that there are both imp and Ars Goetia presences in Pride, but they’re native species which Lucifer would likely have no reason to care about, if he’s even truly aware of them outside of his own bubble of self-loathing and simultaneous dislike of sinners).

Lilith is supposedly this influential and powerful Queen of Hell whose songs and powers are single-handedly making Hell a force to be reckoned with; where was she during these talks? If she’s so involved with Hell, why does no one mention her? Charlie is the only one who ever talks about her, and then only with Vaggie. Alastor was gone for seven years and his return caused ripples (because he purposely causes them, not because his presence is so powerful on its own); how long has Lilith been pulling away from Hell for people to know Charlie by name and refer to her as Lucifer’s daughter, but never as Lilith’s (except by Adam)?

If Lilith and Lucifer split up because Lucifer gave up and was unable to care about anything outside of his family, why is it still Lucifer who’s mentioned attending meetings with Heaven, or throwing the responsibility to Charlie? Where the unholy hell is Lilith and the evidence of her influence outside of some background fliers of her concerts and Charlie’s own memories, is what I’m saying.

What I’m also saying: Heaven’s fear of a Hellish uprising may not have been as unfounded as Charlie might think, because she sweeps over that little detail constantly and in a later episode it becomes a significant talking point for a certain character and I’ll get more into it later. But the bones of it now: YEAH Lilith was absolutely planning an uprising against Heaven and that’s why she wasn’t allowed to the Extermination meetings. Lucifer allowing them was him cleaning up her mess (in a kinda cowardly way, but he protects his own and then gets out of dodge. He doesn’t care about sinners or Hell. He cares about Charlie and Lilith. If they’re safe, he’s done his job. And to be fair, Heaven has shown itself more than ready and willing to destroy Hell entirely, though why they haven’t yet may be just as obvious as why Hell hasn’t truly risen up to overthrow Heaven: the toll on both sides would be too great. Carmilla Carmine being a fallen angel isn’t a theory I subscribe to but I do have to admit, her insight into the nature of violence and war and the devastation it wreaks does make me lean towards it a little).

I do note the sadness that this story version of Sera shows at allowing the Exterminations; it holds up with what we see of her later, her stated hesitance over the idea and how she clearly doesn’t like it but still sees it as necessary and therefore won’t be swayed into stopping it. What an interesting and complex character.

Other reasons Lilith wasn’t mentioned at the Extermination meeting and thus why I have decided she maybe wasn’t there: I can’t imagine her not going absolutely feral at Adam leading the Exterminations and thus trying to claw his eyes and balls out. There is textual evidence to disprove this, at least somewhat. But this here is a headcanon and I’ll stick to it because it makes me giggle.

So very interesting to study the colors of this little story, too. Lilith as Queen is fully red. Lucifer is most often shown in paler colors (the exception being when he and Lilith are cast down to Hell, though interestingly, he’s dripping as they fall, and Lilith isn’t). When Charlie finally shows up in the story, she is shown a lot like Evil and Eve, a dark silhouette with something bright and red illuminating her—but then turns bright white.

Even without his influence much in her upbringing, somehow or another, Charlie is Lucifer’s daughter, more like him than like Lilith. (We know Charlie sugarcoats like crazy and is an optimist to the point of destruction. Charlie loves her mother. Charlie knows her mother cared about Hell, fights for sinners to not be slaughtered yearly because she was taught by her mother that Hell was worth caring about. And yet. Look where Lilith is this entire time. For seven years. Food for thought.)

I really wish it was easier to tell Hellborn from sinners before they bleed. I had some theories about sinners not having horns, or at least not commonly having horns, but. Y’know. Background characters constantly making my life difficult.

Okay another thing that I want clarified in-text so badly: do sinners regenerate? There’s evidence to support it, but it’s never said in the show whether or not angelic steel is the ONLY thing that can kill sinners for good, just that it does. I’m aware of fanon regarding people who die in Hell being Voided (though according to the wiki, Viv has said that Hellborn who die become part of the fabric of Hell, which is why it looks weirdly organic, so the existence of a Void or even as Angel says in the pilot a double-Hell (turbo-hell lolol I only want it to exist for the memes) seems…unlikely), but what with Sir Pentious being redeemed…idk that I buy that sinners who double-die just cease to exist. It feels dissatisfying, or like there’s a piece missing somewhere.

Additional question: what happens to angels who die in Hell?? Do they become part of the scenery like Hellborn, do they cease to exist like sinners might, do they regenerate up in Heaven? WHAT HAPPENS?

It only took me an hour and a half to get to just watch the episode as normal after the opening. This is fine.

I like the idea of Heaven being structured similarly to Hell; Adam referring to a “Virtue” chick and the existence of C.H.E.R.U.B. and Cherub Towne in HB lends itself more to this duality of Heaven and Hell in a way that tingles my symmetry brain. Though. As HH states quite clearly. That duality is a lie. Nothing is ever that neat and tidy.

I cannot BELIEVE Angel called Vaggie by her full name and I neither really caught it nor truly believed it the first time around.

Ooh here we go, laying the groundwork for my many Alastor and Overlord mechanic theories. In the pilot, which might no longer be canon but is still an important piece of background, Alastor is called a deal-maker. It’s shown more in the show that he isn’t the only one who does that—in fact, it seems to become an Overlord, you have to be in possession of many soul contracts, enough that a group of them in a room together owns millions—but Alastor is pretty much the only one shown MAKING deals. Deals are discussed often and seem like a pretty reliable mechanic for “make a thing happen or make it more complicated,” but the only deals we ever see being made are done by Alastor. From my understanding, Overlords don’t own just souls, but territory; Alastor seems to be an exception.

It seems to me that it would be in-character for him to go for quality over quantity, and for his territory to be radio itself—and thus the hearing range of anybody within the sound of his voice. He displays talents that seem unique to him, not to Overlords in general, and I have some theories, but as the pieces come, I’ll put them together. The first piece is this: Alastor likes making deals. He makes deals for seemingly inconsequential things, favors for favors (though HB fans reading that in Stolas’ voice can giggle with me over imagining Alastor’s reaction to it). It's almost like he doesn’t know how to interact with people if it isn’t an exchange or a power move of some kind. That makes for a fascinating character to watch in action, because regardless of if cannibal serial killer is still part of his fabric now, it does make his gray morality compelling as he seems to grow fond of the group in some ways.

His villain heel-turn is inevitable, but I’m excited for it rather than dreading it.

Does Vaggie even have a soul to leverage? Her knowing Spanish seems to indicate she was human at one point, but it’s unclear if the Exorcists are Heavenborn with a rigid uniform (because Lute and Vaggie have a lot of physical similarities outside of the literal uniform) or. Like. Recruited from existing winner populations. With an obvious bias because Adam is a pig but you can’t argue with the results of a badass female army.

Okay, Lute’s wording is so interesting though—Daddy gave you and your Hellborn kind a pardon from an Exorcist’s blade. A pardon? A PARDON? Lucifer GAVE Hellborn demons a PARDON?? Because I find it hard to believe that that wouldn’t be something Lucifer would have to argue for if Heaven truly found Hell a threat. And it makes me wonder what he traded in exchange for that protection. But that wording. As if Lucifer granted the exception on a whim like a merciful lord. As if the Extermination was his idea and he could just make exceptions for people like it was his right…

OH SHIT WAS THE EXTERMINATION HIS IDEA??

Could it be possible that Lucifer and Lilith’s partnership fell apart because Lucifer betrayed Hell to Heaven?

Listen that seems far-fetched but I’m losing my mind a little bit right now because I can SEE IT. I can see it being a last-ditch effort to try and protect his family from the perceived threat of the sinners and the looming threat of Heaven, only for it to blow up in his face and it to not just end his marriage but crush Lilith’s spirit along with it.

Though if the Exterminations have only been going on for a few decades…if we take past backstory as canon for a moment and Charlie is around 200 years old, and her parents split when she was young (maybe pre-teen? I can’t remember if some of the family portraits I’ve seen online were in the background of the show and I just missed them or if they’re fanart)…I dunno, the timeline feels wonky to me. I WISH we knew how long the Exterminations have been going on, it is MADDENING that we don’t know that.

Also interesting to know that Adam has basically been functioning with little to no supervision. I wonder if Sera even knows an Exorcist died, or that they can be killed, before the attack on the Hotel?

The Exterminations can’t have been happening for so long that no other demon ever killed an angel. Carmilla Carmine seems like she’s been running her own show for a while, and while angelic steel isn’t common (and she’s right, demons who can afford it wouldn’t exactly be itching to try it out against Exorcists when they could be well-hidden and out of harm’s way instead), but demons are also audacious little upstarts (see Alastor). Given a long enough time frame, SOMEONE would have had to try it out. The Exterminations happening for just a few decades seems more and more likely the longer I think on it, but until we get a definitive timeline…ugh. Gonna have to wait.

And that was just episode 1! Oh no!! On to episode 2, which is probably going to get into more Alastor theories but WAY more about the mechanics of Overlords and also Charlie as the perfect picture of the Princess of Pride, bc hoo boy girlie you are working off of some ASSUMPTIONS.

[pctcrparker]

“I would keep denying it, obviously,” he answered his wife, raising an eyebrow at her. There was no way that Matt would ever believe that he was more high maintenance than Kara. Yeah, sure. Maybe he had higher standards for things that most other people wouldn’t, but Kara was on a whole other level all on her own. So if their daughter inherited that characteristic, it would one hundred percent be from her. When Kara talked about how difficult it was to see their daughter cry, Matt nodded his head along gently, agreeing with her. Even he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t the type of parent to let their daughter cry until she put herself to sleep. Yes, he had read the parenting books and the parenting articles and many talked about letting the child cry so they could learn how to soothe themselves into falling asleep, but the times they’ve tried that, Matt had found himself feeling anxiety over it. Which was odd. Usually any anxiety he felt was when something was out of place or not clean enough for him, but hearing Sam cry, his immediate response is to check on her and try to soothe her himself. He felt better when he did. Snuggling up closer to Kara as she continued to tangle her fingers into his hair, he felt his eyelids become even heavier at the gesture. “Mmm,” he muttered lazily, almost in protest to her demanding that he sleep and not wake up. Not that he’d have any say in whether  or not he would stay asleep through Sam crying. But he knew that even if he did wake, Kara would immediately put him back to sleep. “Again?” he then responded when she asked if he could stop by her office tomorrow. Or later that day technically, whatever. Time was a foreign concept now as a parent. Which, again, was also troublesome for someone like Matt who was very on the dot. “What do you do to that bathroom?” He moved his head so that he was pressed against her body, inhaling as he took in Kara’s familiar and comforting scent. “But yeah, sure. I’ll stop by after work.”

pctcrparker​:

“High maintenance?” He questioned with a dumbfounded expression. He knew that his wife was saying this to pull his chain, but it was rather amusing coming from her. Matt had never met someone any more high maintenance than Kara. She had not only expensive taste all around, but she had the tendency to center herself in all of their lives. There is no escaping how high maintenance his wife was. “Because of me? You’re blaming me for our child being high maintenance. I hope you see the irony in that.” He shook his head as if he were disapproving before he broke out into a grin. After placing Kara down and the two of them got comfortable back in bed, he signed contently as she began to stroke his hair, a gesture that Matt could never get tired of. It was something she’d always done since the beginning of their relationship and it was always something that never failed to calm him down, back when he had a much bigger issue with his anger problems. “Well, I’m glad you’re admitting you’re the problem here, he teased her, tilting his head to place a kiss over her stomach so she knew he was just joking. When she glanced down at him, he glanced up at her and without hesitation, he answered. “She’d win.” It was no contest. Sam had both her parents wrapped around her little finger. Kara liked to tease Matt and say it was him who was whipped by his own baby, but she failed to realize how quick she was to tend to Sam herself. “She’ll win not because she’s stubborn. She’ll win because we’re weak.” He adjusted his head so that he was laying down against her stomach again, eyes shutting because he knew that it wouldn’t be long until Sam was crying and closing his eyes felt a lot better than keeping them open. “Which is why we should get plenty of sleep now before she decides she wants our attention.”

Kara laughed at the offended look on Matt’s face when she insinuated that he was the high maintenance one. Matt would never admit it, but he could get just as high maintenance as her. Sure, his way of being high maintenance was not materialistic as her, but he was high maintenance, especially when it came to what he put into his body. “And if I continue to insist it is you that she’s high maintenance?” she asked in at teasing manner, but in all seriousness, they knew if anything, it was definitely because of her. Smiling down at her husband as he tenderly kissed her stomach, Kara sighed in contentment as she continued to stroke his hair. Never did she think that this would become her life. When she first started dating Matt, he had made it clear where he wanted his life to go and what he wanted for his life. Never did it include having children and hell, it didn’t even include getting married. When he proposed to her, Kara honestly thought that it was as good as it was going to get and she was more than happy with it. She already had Luke and that was enough for her, but he had changed his mind and she knew he only changed his mind because there was a part of her that wanted kids with him. Kara knew she was lucky to have Matt. She was lucky that he loved her enough to set aside not wanting kids for her and even making so many sacrifices so they could have kids. Nodding her head in agreement, Kara sighed. “That’s very true. We are weak for her. Which is bad because if we hold her too much when she cries, she’ll never learn how to soothe herself, though we don’t seem to care. I don’t want to care. It hurts me physically when I see her crying,” Kara explained. Sitting up so she can kiss the top of Matt’s head, she tangled her fingers with his hair and smiled. “Get some sleep. You’re going to need it my love. You have work tomorrow and don’t you dare wake up if Sam cries. I’ll deal with her. I can sleep while at work in between patients, you cannot,” she warned her husband. Though he technically could since he was the boss. The wonderful perks of owning your own gym. “But, speaking of, could you take a look at my office tomorrow after work? There’s a leaky faucet in the bathroom.”

[melon-wing]

Flavour Soulmate AU [Gridoc]

Warning: This is a discontinued and mostly unedited story.  If you still wanna read - just for fun - go ahead, but be aware that there most likely won’t be more. I’m just dumping all the WIP I’ll never finish for those interested. [Click here for my non-abandoned stories] ~*~

Grian hated this whole soulmate concept. It felt like somebody else decided over what you got to do with your life. He wanted to choose who he fell in love with, not some higher power or whatever being that was.

So he rebelled. He kept tasting things he hadn’t eaten and decided to ignore it. On bad days he felt petty enough and just looked for the nastiest thing he could put into his mouth. His soulmate probably hated him. But Grian didn’t care. He didn’t want to be forced into this ‘arranged marriage’.

And so he started dating someone that was most certainly not his soulmate. The first time he kissed Taurtis he wondered if their soulmates would know. If they could taste what both of them were just doing. He had pushed the thought away. He liked Taurtis even if they weren’t soulmates and Taurtis liked him. So they went on with their relationship.

That’s until one day a new member joined their server: Pearl. Grian loved her dearly. She was a good friend and an amazing builder. She was sweet and always so supportive. And then one day she popped a sweet candy into her mouth and Taurtis had looked at her like the sun had just risen. Grian would never forget that moment.

They kept on dating for another week. Taurtis kept looking at Pearl, handing her little sweet treats, probably to test out his theory and Grian could see the way those two interacted. After that week he broke up with Taurtis. He wanted to be the one in control. He wouldn’t let those damn soulbonds decide who he was supposed to see and who not. It had been his own decision to break things off.

The day Pearl announced that she had started dating Taurtis, Grian had pretended to be happy and smiled along with them, biting his tongue so hard to keep himself from saying anything he’d regret that blood filled his mouth.

A few seconds passed and suddenly a sweet taste filled his mouth. A taste he recognised: A Healing Potion. It wasn’t as potent as when he drank one himself, but at least the bleeding stopped and only a dull ache remained.

And for a second the thought crossed his mind that maybe having a soulmate wasn’t all to bad. He buried that thought as fast as he could and went on with his business. That was until everything changed.

The day the watchers took him, they gave him the ability to block off his soulbond. He gladly took the opportunity, feeling the bond close and finally being free of the reminder that he hadn’t been able to rebel against fate.

~

Doc awoke one night in cold sweat, not really sure, what had his heart racing like it did. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Nothing had changed around his base and there was nothing around here that endangered him. Why did he feel so off?

And then he tasted it… Void air, dragon breath and potions. The flavour wasn’t that strong any more. So his soulmate must have been fighting the dragon while he had been asleep.

With a sigh he went over to his food-chest, looking around it in thoughts. It had taken him some time and recording all replies, but by now he had it pretty much down, which food his soulmate liked… or at least didn’t dislike.

He remembered that one time he had eaten a Pumpkin Pie and his soulmate had retaliated by drinking swamp water. His friends made fun off him for having such a high maintenance soulmate, but Doc liked the attitude. He was looking forward to the day they would meet. Living in a world as closed off as Xisuma’s did sometimes have its disadvantages.

He had tried sending messages with the things he ate, but his soulmate either didn’t get those messages or had chosen to ignore them. But Doc believed in the power of a soul bond. Their paths would cross for sure.

Four days later, Doc was on edge.

It had been seven whole days and he hadn’t tasted anything his soulmate had eaten. The first few days he tried to reassure himself. One didn’t need to eat every day. And maybe Doc had missed it while he had been sleeping. But for a week? A person would need to eat.

His soulmate not having to eat… That could only mean one thing.

Doc thought back to the night where his soulmate had fought the dragon and the strange feelings in his gut.

His soulmate was dead.

~~~

Grian looked at the portal, excitement shining in his eyes. He had been stuck in the Watcher’s domain for far too long. Sure, learning about magic and stuff had been interesting, but he yearned to be just building again. He had begged and pleaded with the Watchers to let him have a world of his own to watch over and finally they agreed.

He was to be sent to a world called Hermitcraft to disguise as a regular player and report back to the Watchers what was happening. He was grateful for the opportunity and he would make the best out of it.

“I’ll see you soon”, he said, smiling at his mentor, giving a little wave and then stepping through the portal.

When he stepped out of the portal he was on a little island and there were multiple people around, staring at him in confusion. Grian waved at them with an uncertain smile on his lips, his wings fluttering a little behind him.

“Hello there… I think my portrait malfunctioned. I was supposed to land in a world without people.”, he told them the little lie they had planned ahead

~*~ A/N: This was based on a lot of asks my friend @ gridoc   was getting about tasting the same things your soulmate does. I wrote this a while back. in 2020. This was supposed to be about Grian being sent by the watchers to hermitcraft to observe and guide them and him falling in love with Doc. Both of them don’t realise they’re soulmates due to Grian blocking the bond. Doc even tells him his soulmate is dead. They fall for one another and something happens that reopens that bond making them realise they’re one another’s soulmate.

[silversatoru]

i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed​ (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer. 

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer. 

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

[jellieland]

Ok, so I know it's been a little while since the whole king's court thing. But I was looking through my drafts and found this, and I still think Cleo, Scar and Cub as rulers of hermitcraft is a fascinating concept.

---

Kingslayers

It had started as something- not innocent. Obviously not. But not malicious, exactly.

Mischievous.

“Just one arrow is all it would take.” Cub had grinned, leaning over Scar’s shoulder, in that half-serious way he sometimes did when he was looking for plausible deniability.

“It’s right there, look at him.” Scar had mused, bow drawn. He looked along his nocked arrow and down the length of the throne room at Ren, who had Bdubs by his side. They were looking down at Iskall from their thrones.

He relaxed the bowstring. Shots were more effective if you didn’t hold it taut first.

“He’s right there.” Cleo agreed from his right, glaring at Ren before turning back to face them. “And he just talks down to you as well. Like he’s better than you?”

“Oh man, yeah.” Cub frowned sympathetically.

“He complained that I was talking too much.” The ire in her eyes seemed to rise slightly just talking about it.

“We could call it an accident, Scar.” Cub leaned in a little further. “I mean, just think about it. We could call it an accident.”

Cleo nodded conspiratorially. “And then we could take the tiny crown.”

Cub nodded back. “That’s very true.”

“That is true.” Scar said thoughtfully. He pulled back the bowstring again.

“We could share it.” Cleo stepped slightly closer.

And at this point, things got a bit more serious.

Looking back on it, none of them were quite sure of exactly how it happened.

Perhaps Cub knocked into Scar’s shoulder from where he was leaning over. Perhaps Cleo had nudged his elbow. Perhaps Scar’s hand had let go of the bowstring with no outside influence needed. It might’ve been an accident. It might’ve been a half-formed idea suddenly made very real.

Looking back, it was hard to tell.

But that was embarrassing, so all three of them immediately decided to pretend that they had done it on purpose.

Whatever the reason, quite suddenly, Ren was dead, and the crown clattered down to rest on the empty throne.

Bdubs slowly turned to look at them, eyes even wider than usual behind his diamond glasses.

Cleo’s sword appeared in their hand, and he was instantly scrambling for firework rockets. By the time they had raised it, he was already out of the window.

Iskall slowly spun around to look at the three of them, eyebrows raised.

“That was rude.” He said. “I was halfway through a sentence.”

Scar lowered the bow, and grinned. He stepped forward into the throne room.

“Hey Iskall,” He asked, “How would you like to join our court?”

The man in question shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Excellent!” Cleo said, slightly too brightly. “Our first decree is that today, you get the day off!”

Iskall blinked. “Oh, really? Wow, this court is great!”

He headed over to the window, and then paused. “Do I get to keep the shield?”

“Sure thing, man!” Cub’s voice was very slightly higher pitched than usual.

Iskall nodded to himself, pleased. “Great success! I’ll see you tomorrow, friends.”

And with that he was gone, a halfhearted chorus of goodbyes ringing out after him.

There was a short silence.

“Is Joe still on his way?” Asked Cub.

“I’ll tell him the meeting’s been rescheduled.” Cleo pulled out their communicator and started typing.

He frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe we want him on our side.”

“I don’t know.” Said Scar. “He’s really fun to hunt down and torment, but there was that time in season six when he asked if he could rip our wings off and use them like an elytra. You remember that, Cub?”

“I mean, I think-”

“Joe is a problem to deal with later.” Cleo said firmly, hitting send. “Now we have to worry about whether or not Ren set his spawn somewhere in the Crastle.”

Scar shrugged. “What’s he gonna do? There’s more of us.”

She frowned. “We should still start as we mean to go on.”

There was another short silence, none of them willing to admit that they didn’t really know how they meant to go on. They all looked over at the throne, and the crown that rested on it.

“One of us should probably pick that up, huh?” Mused Cub.

None of them moved.

They looked at the netherite throne, and the two distinctly smaller chairs on either side of it.

“This is fine!” Cleo’s voice was slightly strained. “Like I said, we can share it! We can take turns.”

“Yeah, ok!” All at once Scar sprung into motion. “I’ll go first.” He strode across the room, picked up the crown, and sat down. “It is pretty small, but it's better than nothing.” He said, putting it on.

It sat at a jaunty angle.

“…Yeah, alright.” Cub strolled over to the chair on Scar’s right, sat, and leaned back in a way that could only be described as lounging.

Cleo narrowed her eyes at the pair of them. “We are going to have a talk about how this is going to work. But that can wait for once we’ve dealt with Ren.” And she strode across the room to the last chair, and sat.

“Oh, of course, of course!” Scar grinned at her, his classic conman’s smile, and she raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He pulled a face. “Ok, ok, we can talk about it later.”

A few moments passed. Cub knocked a couple of times on the wooden arm of his chair. “Y’know, I can probably get these ones some netherite too. Much more respectable.”

Cleo frowned, considering, and then nodded. “That would be a good start.”

“Makes sense.” He said. “Makes sense if we’re going for a more, uh. Flat team structure.”

There are a few more seconds of silence.

“Be funny if he’d actually set his spawn miles away, wouldn’t it?” Cub said.

Moments later, Ren hurtled around the corner, diamond encrusted robes somewhat disheveled, and stumbled to a stop at the sight of the three of them, sat on the thrones.

“Almost like it was meant to be, isn’t it?” Cleo looking down at him, eyes half-shadowed and almost glowing.

He spluttered slightly. “What- what doth be the meaningeth of this?!”

Cleo closed her eyes for a moment, and reminded herself that killing him again wouldn’t actually accomplish anything.

“You can take your stuff back if you’d like?” Scar said helpfully. “Here!” He grabbed Ren’s elytra from the scattered pile of his things around the throne, and tossed it to him.

He caught it on what appeared to be autopilot. “I- uh.”

“Go on, grab your stuff!” Scar continued cheerfully. “It’s cluttering up my throne room!”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, he took a step forward, up the first of the stairs leading to the throne. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cleo cut in.

“You’ll have to make it quick.” Her eyes bored into him. “You shouldn’t really be allowed up here. But in our generosity, we will give you this.”

He didn’t hurry. Slowly, he gathered his things from where they lay, and then he stood, for a moment, directly before the throne.

He looked at the crown very intently. He looked at Cub, and then at Cleo, and back at Scar.

“Hast thou lost thine minds, my dudes?”

“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully.

“Then what-”

“Y’know what, Ren.” Cub interjected abruptly. “We don’t actually have to tell anyone about this, you know.”

Scar looked a little nonplussed. Cleo leaned forward and gave Cub a look. He grinned.

Ren took a step back, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well.” He shrugged, casual as could be. “No one really needs to know you’re not king anymore, do they?”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “Are thou asking me to be a puppet king? I have integrity, dude!”

The three new reining monarchs of the server exchanged glances.

“Ehhh.” Cub looked doubtful.

“Do you, though?” Asked Cleo.

“Wha- of course I do! All I've been doing is improving the shopping district for everyone, and this is the thanks I get! It’s disgraceful!”

“Well,” Said Scar brightly, “If you do what we tell you to, I’ll make sure to say thank you!”

“I really don’t think I-”

“And if you don’t, I can just kill you again!”

“…Right. Yeah. I, uh, I almost forgot about that.” He shifted nervously. “So, um, what do you want me to do, actually?”

Cub glanced over at Scar for a moment before answering. “Oh, you can just keep doing what you’re doing, man. Don’t sweat it. Quests? Go for it. Royal Emeralds? Sure.”

And then, without warning, his eyes sharpened. From an outside perspective, it was a little like taking a bite of cake and suddenly finding a needle in your mouth. “Just make sure the diamonds come through us first.”

Cleo’s frown disappeared, replaced by understanding, and Ren at once found himself pinned in place by two impenetrable stares. “And if we find out you’re keeping any for yourself, well…” She didn’t smile, or smirk. Her face was an unreadable as stone. “We will be displeased.”

Scar grinned, something… hungry… in his gaze. “After all, a good king would never keep all the money to himself, now, would he?”

A strange expression crossed Ren’s face at that, as though he had tasted something sour, then something that looked like confusion, before it gave way to nervousness. “I guess not.” He took another step back, and found himself stumbling down the top step before the throne. “But everyone’ll still think I’m king, yeah?”

“Of course.” Said Cleo, calm and level. “Now. I’m getting bored of listening to you talk. Make your choice and then get out of my throne room.”

He stood there for a moment, eyes narrowed.

“Well you heard them!” Said Scar. His hand moved ever so slightly towards his bow.

“…Fine! Ok. Fine. I’ll do it. But you better not tell anyone.”

Cleo’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.”

“Come on, Ren!” Scar cut in smoothly. “I’m sure we can work this out in a way that works for everyone! Why don’t you come back tomorrow and we can talk about it some more, work out the details?”

Ren squinted at him suspiciously for a moment before nodding slowly. “…Ok.”

“And as long as you do what we say, we won’t tell anyone that you’re not king anymore! After all, we wouldn’t want them to think that you can’t even deal with your own court, now would we?” He grinned. “Especially not Bdubs. He’d be so disappointed!”

“Ok, ok, I get it! You can do your dumb…” He waved his hands around aimlessly, “…scheme, thing, whatever it is you’re doing.” He pulled a face. “Jeez, there’s no winning on this server.”

And with that he turned and practically trotted out of the throne room, looking unnervingly unburdened for a man who had just been suddenly and violently dethroned.

“Enjoyeth your crown!” He called over his shoulder as he went.

As the echo of his footsteps faded, Cleo frowned. “That was weird, right?” They asked. “Right? That was weird.”

Cub made a noise of vague agreement. “It was a little strange.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine, there’s no need to worry about it!” Scar leaned back in the throne, looking exceptionally pleased with himself.

“I mean, I guess we should be long gone by the time it’s relevant.” Cub shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, we can run the whole system into the ground, take off with the profits, and have him deal with the fallout. Unless either of you have any objections?”

Cleo nodded approvingly. “I’ve seen those claims around the shopping district. And the ‘Royal Emeralds’.” The term was said with great disdain. “Really, the crown is incredibly popular right now. I have no problem with making him deal with it.”

Scar made a noncommittal noise. “Well, we’ll have to see how it goes, right? We can’t just commit to something like that if we might be able to get more out of it, right?” The light in his eyes shone. “I’ve even got a trophy from when I killed Impulse! I was going to give it to Ren, but now I get to keep it!” Scar grinned, eyes as green as the emerald on the crown he wore, and held up Impulse’s severed head. It looked, perhaps, a little more gruesome than these things usually did.

It might have been a trick of the light, but he seemed to be very slightly paler.

“Neat.” Said Cub.

“Ooh. Can I have one?” Asked Cleo.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Yandere!Todoroki Shouto x reader

someone requested this!!!! but i deleted it cuz im stupiddddd im so sorry!!!

basically they wanted a reader who kinda treats living with shouto as a job. like clock in and out kinda thing. I thought the concept was pretty cool! 

Day Shift 

(Yandere, implied kidnapping, dubcon touching) 

7:00 am. He always woke up first. 

You’d stir when you feel hands, one warm one cool, drift down your back, up your arms, placing themselves on your shoulders. A finger would trail to your chin. 

“Too early,” You moaned, shuffling back into the warmth. 

Shouto smiles. He nudges you again. 

“We have to eat breakfast,” His voice is low in the mornings. It sends pleasant tingles down your spine. 

“Later,” You whisper. 

Warm lips press against your neck. There’s a hint of a smile on your nape. You nearly scream when a cold hand brushes against your bare waist. 

“Okay! Okay!” You squeal, “I’m up!” 

The hand retracts and Shouto’s laughing. Your eyes crack open, hoping you’re glaring as hard as you can at him. 

“Jerk,” You mutter. 

He doesn’t respond, pressing his mouth to yours. You tilt your head, letting him explore. Morning breath sucks and you’re pretty sure you’re lips are still swollen from last night, but you don’t bother voicing your complaints. 

It’s not like you could say no, anyway. 

He pulls away, sliding out of bed with you lazily trailing behind him. You stretch your arms, arching your back as you try to shake away your drowsiness. 

“What do you want to eat?” You ask, padding into the kitchen. 

You hear him shift in the living room, probably catching up on work. 

“I’m fine with anything,” He says back. 

You give hum of acknowledgement. He says ‘anything’ but you’ve had enough punishments to know better. You decide to make something simple, but fresh. A favorite of his. 

“Apparently a building was attacked, last night.” 

“Really?” You say, “Do they know who it was?” 

“No,” He sighs, “My guess is a rookie villain trying to score some points. I’ll probably have to check it out later.” 

“Was anyone hurt?” You ask, “I don’t really keep up with the news anymore.” You can’t. Shouto doesn’t allow TVs in the house. 

And then you’re flinching because you know you’ve said something wrong. Quietly, you wait for him to come into the kitchen, for a sharp reprimand because what you said was wrong. 

There’s a pause that makes you hold your breath. 

“No, no one was hurt,” He’s finally saying, “It was just property damage.” 

You’re sighing in relief, and you hope he takes it as you being glad of the lack of casualties. 

“That’s good,” You’re smiling pleasantly, “And that’s less paperwork for you, right?” 

He hums when you bring out two plates. You nestle beside him, pushing his laptop away and hand him a dish. 

“What time are you going in?” You ask. 

Shouto’s glancing at his watch, before looking at his computer. 

“So much happened while I was off-duty,” He says, “I will probably have to start in an hour.” 

You’re nodding, leaning into him. Throughout the years you’ve known him, Shouto doesn’t initiate touch that much, but he’s extremely accepting of it. It puts him in a better mood. And it hurts less when Shouto is in a better mood. 

“Gotta’ get ready soon then, hm?” You murmur. 

“Maybe,” He’s musing. You’re suddenly very aware of the hand trailing up your leg. 

“Or maybe not.” 

You’re whining, trying to look annoyed rather than fearful, “It’s too early,” You’re saying, “And you’ll be late.” 

“We’ll be quick,” He’s softly saying into your neck, placing butterfly kisses on your throat. You want to argue more, but his grip on your thigh makes you stop. A warning. You watch his hand trail higher and higher and higher- 

The ring of his phone makes him pause. He’s stopping his movements, grabbing his device to read the message. 

Then, he’s sighing. 

“Not in an hour,” He says, “Right now.” 

He leaves a kiss on your neck, and you giggle, watching him slip off into the bedroom. He comes back out in his hero outfit, to see you cleaning the dirty plates. 

“Ready to go?” You ask. 

He’s nodding, pulling you forward to leave a hot kiss on your lips. He reluctantly breaks it first, frowning. 

“Don’t be like that,” You smile, “Have a fun day at work!” 

Shouto pulls away to the door. He glances back at you. 

“Love you.” He says. 

“Love you, too.” You wave. 

The door clicks shut. Your smile drops. You glance at the clock. 

8:32. 

Shouto wouldn’t come back until the evening. You were off for 7 hours. 

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but his touches are still too sharp. The desire to scald yourself with hot water, scrubbing until there’s only irritated skin left, is overwhelming, but you don’t pursue it. It isn’t worth it.  

Instead, you take a deep breath. 

At 3:45, you’d have to do it all over again. 

[primofate]

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. “No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

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[mercy-burning]

Wine Drunk - BLURB

@subspencer / @wheelsup and I briefly discussed this concept Thursday night and I... I just had to. I’m obsessed. I was going to post it later tonight, but I got impatient, so enjoy 😂😘

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: SPICY FLUFF Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy making out, second base Word Count: 1.3k

MASTERLIST

Spencer rarely drank, so you were actually quite surprised to see him take you up on your offer to 'watch movies and get drunk'.

Work that week had been rather headache-inducing, more so than usual, so you'd only said it as a joke to emphasize how draining the week had been. And surprisingly, Spencer agreed. In all honesty you had been prepared for him to just laugh and offer lots of snacks instead, movie nights actually pretty common for the both of you after a long work week. But his long sigh followed by agreement and how he could actually really use a drink or two made you happy.

It gave you an excuse to break out the new bottle of blackberry merlot you'd been dying to try since getting it as a Christmas gift from your sister a few months back. It was currently sitting in the fridge, waiting to be cracked open and enjoyed, and honestly you couldn't think of a better time to use it.

You went into the bedroom to change as Spencer made his way to your bathroom, using clothes from his go-bag to change as well. By the time you walked out in green and black plaid pajama bottoms and a loose grey tee shirt, hair thrown up in a ponytail, he was already on the couch, adorning a similar look— minus the ponytail. You laughed at the thought, reminiscing over when his hair was way longer, when you'd ask constantly to braid his hair.

You grabbed the wine from the fridge and two wine glasses from the cupboard before meeting him in the living room as he turned the TV on and scrolled through the channels until he found the Old Western movie channel.

"Why Westerns?" you asked, popping the wine open and starting to pour the first glass.

"Eh, it's something different. Besides, I think our focus will stray more towards getting drunk than actually paying attention, so..."

You laughed, handing him the first glass and pouring another for yourself. "Good assumption." Then you set the bottle back on the coffee table, leaned back, and held up your glass. "To... John Wayne."

Spencer smirked, amused, raising his glass all the same. "I don't think John Wayne is in this movie..."

"I don't care."

The two of you clinked glasses and took the first sips, settling back to your respective sides of the couch. It wasn't a long couch, so even though you were on opposite sides you could greatly feel body warmth radiating from one another. It was something you both became hyper-aware of the more you drank, which led to more drinking— something to do to keep your hands and mouths busy in an attempt to prevent any confessions or accidental touches.

The obvious sexual attraction you and Spencer felt towards one another only ever came out in the rare occasions where you were alone like that, close enough to touch and uninterrupted by any outside forces. But you'd repressed all of it, nervous for one thing due to your close friendship and fear of dismantling what you'd built from it. And for another, the both of you were so extremely bad at verbalizing romantic feelings in general that you didn't want to take any chances.

As the movie droned on, your wine glasses kept emptying, then re-filling until the entire bottle was gone, and every time you reached over to put it back on the table, you came back closer to Spencer. And now, your relaxed, wine-drunk brain was swimming as you leaned your body into his, curling up at his side and slowly resting your head on his shoulder.

You couldn't help but notice how good he smelled. You couldn't place what it was, some type of cologne maybe, or just his laundry soap, but it smelled so incredibly like him that you found yourself breathing him in, taking deep breaths and trying to inhale as much of it as possible.

But the more your nose searched for his smell, the closer it got to his skin, until it gently nudged the underside of his jaw, and you could slightly feel his throat as he swallowed. The movement didn't deter you, however, from dreaming about what it would be like to kiss the source of movement... To feel his Adams apple move as you traced it with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of his skin and feeling the vibrations as he moaned.

In your wine-drunk state, that thought is what spurred you forward, softly dragging your nose up his jawline as your eyes flicked up to catch him staring down at you. God, he was pretty...

But he seemed to be just as intrigued with the idea of tasting you as you were with him, because the moment your eyes locked, his flicked down to your lips before lingering there. You both moved closer and closer until your eyes were both inevitably closed, patiently waiting for something that was sure to feel like a dream.

The second Spencer's lips grazed yours, you sighed, letting him take as much of you as he wanted. The kiss was sweet, sure, but it wasn't until his lips parted and came back a little stronger, giving you more to taste, that you realized it wasn't actually a dream. He tasted of wine, and you knew you did, too. It was sweet and wet and bitter all at the same time, and it only got stronger the longer you reciprocated his actions.

The first time your tongues glided over each other, you both slumped forward, letting the feeling take over. Your kisses became long and drawn out, and a little uncoordinated due to your drunken haze, but that made it all the better— You didn't have the time to think or care about the imperfections of your first kiss. Rather, you lost yourself in the moment, glad to be this close to someone you loved and longed for all these years.

And that's why you didn't care that you were getting sloppy. If anything, the wetness of your kisses only added to the intensity of it all. You gave each other everything you had, offering yourselves to one another through kisses like you'd never been able to with words.

When his hand came up to cradle your face, butterflies swarmed your belly and up through your chest. You both adjusted a little, giving him the clearance to tilt his head and allow you access to deeper kisses. This in turn, of course, made you feral for more, a long sigh escaping as you pushed yourself into him and longed to get closer.

Spencer opened his mouth to you, and the opportunity couldn't have been more clear. So you took his tongue between your lips and sucked on it, eliciting a loud, throaty groan from him that sent another wave of heat through your body. You let his tongue go with a soft pop and smiled against his lips, pecking him a few times before resting your hands on his chest. "You liked that, huh?"

"Mhm," he offered in return, right before kissing you again.

You didn't want to stop.

And for hours, you didn't. After twenty more minutes of just making out, his thumb found its way into your mouth, and you whimpered around it as you looked him in the eyes and sucked on it for another two minutes.

And then eventually, his hand found its way up your shirt. He breathily explained that he didn't want to take advantage of you, and you laughed, taking his wrist and sliding his hand higher until it cupped your breast, telling him through slurred syllables, "It's okay. You can touch me... I want you to..."

You cycled through another movie and a half, his hands kneading your breasts gently while yours tugged at his hair, before you finally tired, your kisses slowing significantly until, finally, you rested with your foreheads pressed together.

Still a little hazy from the wine, though, you smiled, hearing him whisper, "I love you," before dozing off, John Wayne in a shootout on the screen in front of you.

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