#purgatory really did things to him

[sweetie-peaches]

I feel like in his current arc BadBoyHalo should be studied for science. This poor guy, what is happening to him.

[royalarchivist]

Etoiles: Oh, if you kill me- ok, no. Ok, ok. I'm focused.

Tubbo: Bro, what do you mean, "if I kill you"?

Etoiles: DUDE– stop- stop thinking I'm unkillable, dude! Stop thinking this! I'm not a superhero- I'm not Thanos! I'm a fcking diabetic!

Tubbo: [Laughs] That's crazy.

Etoiles: Stop thinking I'm Thanos, please. Like, it's annoying in this server!

Bad: You can take him, Tubbo.

[okaioh]

good morning - I love how yesterday, everyone was fighting or talking with the possessed fed workers, doing lore and what not - and then phil was just playing around with his kids thousands of blocks away from everyone

bagi literally screamed in the chat: "PHIL THEY'RE HERE" and this guy's honest reaction was just, "ok!"

[phantomrose96]

So my mom's birthday was this week and I flew down with Patches to visit her for a few days. Patches, while a verified hater of the airport, really loves my mom's place because there are so many more closets to explore and birds to watch and cobwebs to dust with her stupid little face.

My mom also goes to bed earlier than anyone I know, so for the evenings it was on me to monitor Patches' activity. And she's very good. She's 99% good. She's 1% "could use improvement" good and the 1%, which I'd forgotten about, is tomatoes.

Patches will leave most things alone. (And by "alone" I mean she'll absolutely bitch slap them onto the floor, but they will leave the ordeal with just as many or few surface punctures as they had before the encounter started.) Not tomatoes. Patches has it the fuck out for tomatoes.

So when I noticed her batting something around on the ground I realized that my mom had left a sole, roma tomato in the fruit basket on the counter and it was now experiencing the life cycle of a pingpong ball between Patches' paws.

I take it away from her, like a fucking evil woman, and now I'm like "okay actually, where do I hide this." See at home I have an anti-Patches cabinet, which is for things that have no business living in a cabinet but which WILL have business dying at Patches' hands if left accessible. And this is WEIRD to have such a cabinet but it's my own home.

I'm scanning my mother's cabinets going "is this weird here? can the tomato go in my mother's dish cabinet?" And I briefly consider sticking it in the fridge, as a normal location, but the audacity of altering this tomato's ripening process is an audacity I do not possess. So I go with cabinet. I go with the first eye-level cabinet, which is the coffee mug cabinet, which is perfect because the tomato will not be lost to cabinet purgatory there, since my mom opens it every morning for her coffee. I will simply tell her in the morning that the tomato is there.

Next morning. Seeing as my mother goes to bed at the butt-crack of dusk she ALSO gets up at the ass-crack of dawn. This means I trail down like 2 hours after her with my work laptop and Patches. This is also now her birthday. I'm sharing the sofa with her for a good 15 minutes when I think to myself I'd like some coffee, and I remember I put a tomato in the cabinet. I tell my mom as much. I put the tomato in her coffee mug cabinet.

And the look I get is one I can't really figure out on spot. But she says "Chrissy this is the best birthday present you could have given me" which is a very weird response to the already weird statement "Oh you probably saw, but I hid the tomato in the coffee mug cabinet because Patches has it out for tomatoes."

So I do not at all know how this makes for a good birthday gift. My mom tells me how a week or two ago, she came home unloading groceries. At the end of putting everything away she could not for the life of her find her phone. Absolutely nowhere. She pinged it from her iPad and it started singing. From the fridge. She opened her fridge. Her phone was in the fridge.

A couple days later she lost Ash's collar. Spent three days looking for it. Couldn't remember where she'd taken it off or what she did with it. Showed up in the grass when she remembered she took it off to let him play fetch in the lake.

And then this morning, her birthday morning, she came into the kitchen, made her pot of coffee, opened the cabinet to fetch her coffee mug, and found... tomato. Singular. Tomato in the cabinet. Tomato she had no memory of placing in a cabinet. Tomato she could not possibly fathom having a reason for being in the cabinet.

She was like Chrissy I cried. She was like this is it, time to send her to pasture. She's a harebrained old lady now and there is no coming back from this. She's the lady who accidentally puts tomatoes in the cabinet. Awake before God, standing in the kitchen, signing her life away over this tiny roma tomato. (Roma tomato with little cat vampire teeth marks in it).

I was like oh. No. I put it there. Because Patches was going to commit war crimes against it. I put it there because I did not stop to consider "Will finding a single tomato in the coffee mug cabinet somehow be the very specific thing that undoes my mother this morning?" I put it there out of careful consideration for the life of this tomato, and with no consideration for the extremely esoteric way that a tomato in the cabinet could be received like a horse head in the bed, Godfather style.

We made a salad with the tomato. Happy birthday Mom.

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 did we marry him? | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; yes, you did. what happens when amphoreus men meet your younger self :)?

love mail — lalaaaa quick prompt!! slow buildup till i can write back to normal again ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ

anaxagoras can't help but find your younger self the cutest little thing. you watch as he squishes and pulls at mini-you's face, hearing him chuckle at how they whine and squirm. "so you've always hated it, noted."

even if mini-you tries to hide it, they're relishing in the attention. it wasn't often that they were treated in a way that was so.. full of care, even if it was teasing. all of a sudden, they turned their attention to you. "hey, did we ever end up marrying him?"

"...who?" the question made you confused, there weren't many candidates for a crush during your youth.

"the kind boy we met in the town!" oh, wait.

your actual husbands interest is piqued. "can you describe him to us, dove?"

his smile turns just a little bit wider at the sound of you groaning behind him. "he has green hair! the most prettiest eyes and— hey, you and him are kind of alike, mister!"

"oh, really?" the most tender kiss is pressed on your mini-me's forehead. "then i'm honored to tell you that you sure did."

mydei's been having the best day of his life. currently, he's been carrying mini-you on his shoulders and ran around a field. all while while you watched nearby, smiling at the sight. when your fiancé returns, the reason for all of your embarrassing childhood memories runs up to you excitedly. "i've been wanting to ask, did we end up marrying him?"

the man you were quite literally about to be wed to, raises a brow at the question. "who could it be, sweetpea?"

"the boy i saw walk out of the river! he was kind of scary looking.. but he was super cool! there were these cool red lines all over him, kind of like this guy!"

the irony of pointing right at mydei is a little funny. and your husband can't help himself from the biggest smile you've ever seen from him. "oh, really? just like me? tell me what else you think abo— ouch!"

the elbow to his stomach was not unwarranted, but you smile at your younger self and pat their head. "yeah, we unfortunately will. but if i were you, run the other way when he starts approach—"

mydei's strong arms were then wrapped around you, lifting you into the air, then followed by a peal of laughter. "hey, don't start trying to get away from me now! you're all mine, even from day one!"

phainon is just in awe. mini-you seemed so shy, hiding behind you as they hold your hand, peeking at him with a nervous look. "i can barely believe it! you, were a shy kid?" he laughs, crouching down to their level as you sigh. "more or less. crowds were overwhelming, and aeon's forbid you throw a kid in a classroom of despair and agony." "you describe kindergarden like it's purgatory..."

though while your boyfriend is sent on a mission (buy icecream), your attention is brought to mini-you. "phainon's gone now. just can't believe it's him, hm?"

the reason for their shyness wasn't entirely because there was a 'stranger' infront of them, rather it was because the boy from the other class was now taller and much—much more handsome. "wow.. and you and him get together? that's so cool! but.. did we ever end up marrying him? like i hoped?"

and when phainon comes back with the biggest smile on his face, totally failing to hide probably one of the biggest cups of icecream behind him, you only laugh at the question. "soon. he just has to ask, and i'd say yes in a heartbeat."

that thought is further solidified, as phainon tries his best to seem friendly to your little self. just as he was when you two were kids, winning your heart all over again.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[zephyrchama]

It was late evening when your DDD started ringing. An unusual time for someone to call unless they were either drunk or in mortal peril. This occasion happened to be the latter.

Karasu's caller ID flashed a photo of Luke across the screen after the first ring. The angel was always early to bed and early to rise and never called without good reason, so you scrambled to answer, moving so fast that your finger slipped and you initially missed the right button.

"Hello?" you said. It took a moment for the call to connect.

"Hi... Sorry, umm, is now a good time?"

Luke sounded close to tears. He was trying to keep himself composed for your sake, but the distressed warble in his voice betrayed him. By the sound of things, he wasn't in his bedroom. He wasn't even in the living room or kitchen of Purgatory Hall. It was somewhere small, where his voice echoed off the walls.

"Luke, are you okay? Where are you?"

You recognized the sound of splashing water when he sniffled just before responding, "I'm in the bath."

It was an odd answer, but at least he was somewhere safe. So, why was he crying?

"Did Solomon feed you anything weird?"

"No, that's not it." Luke took a deep breath and winced. The sounds of agitated water accompanied his explanation. "You see... Simeon got a new shampoo that smells like cloudberries, and I really wanted to try some. Just a little bit, honest! But it came out of the bottle really fast, and it fell into my eyes." The crying began in earnest. "It really hurts and now I can't get it out of my eyes and Simeon's going to find out I used his shampoo without asking."

You felt slightly thankful that Solomon wasn't using the little angel as his food taster, but his small sobs over such a small matter made your heart ache.

"I'm going blind as punishment for stealing Simeon's shampoo," he confessed.

"Hey! Hey, no you're not! It's going to be okay!" you assured him. "You're not going to go blind. Listen. Turn on the faucet and try to splash some clean water in your eyes. Also, keep crying."

The sound of a running faucet could be heard through the phone. "Why? Will my tears prove that I'm repenting and weaken the punishment?"

"It'll... uh, yeah? Yeah, sure. It will also rinse the shampoo out of your eye so they stop stinging, but it'll do that, too."

There was a soft thud as Luke set his DDD down, followed by several minutes of loud splashing noises and weeping. He was having a tough time. You tried to be encouraging, unsure if he could hear you or not, by chiming in with the occasional "you're doing great!" and "hang in there!"

The tears came to a stop and Luke turned the faucet off. There was a beat of silence, followed by him exclaiming from afar, "it worked!"

He picked the phone back up. "It worked! I can see again! It doesn't hurt as much! Thank you! I'm so glad I called." The boy sounded like he was crying again, this time in relief. He had his usual cheery demeanor back.

"Everything OK now?"

"Yeah! I really owe you. I have to go tell Simeon what I did now, but I'll properly thank you tomorrow at school."

You wondered what sort of treats he would present. A drain popped open and you heard the water swirling away. Your muscles were still tense from concern, but the emergency had been swiftly dealt with.

"Glad I could help. Be sure to get lots of sleep, okay? You need to rest your eyes."

You could tell Luke was nodding even if you couldn't see him. "Got it!"

"Good night, Luke."

"Good night!"

[binmeister]

Morally Grey - Headcanon / notes

Saja Boys x Demon Assistant! Reader (Fem)

Thinking about a demon assistant!reader instead of a demon manager!reader because you’re not actually managing their activities, you’re not scheduling events or doing all the things expected of someone to manage them. You’re there to assist their plan.

More headcanon-y than the normal stuff, just wanted to get the ideas jotted down and not that invested in writing a full story. Primarily still follows most of the movie plot. Title means nothing it just sounded cool in my head.

CW: potential angst, unformatted and not proofread, fan HC heavy, may contain mature / dark themes, these are just my loose HCs and notes

Premise

There’s demons that feast on human souls and take pride in it, but there’s also demons that still have remnants of their humanity in tact - that fight back against Gwi-Ma as their little ‘fuck you’ to him. What if you were like that?

He had no hold over you, you were disinterested in the memories he tries to control you with - your loved ones had been dead for centuries it doesn’t matter what you do now, what’s done is done and you accepted that already. Gwi-Ma wanted control and he’ll get it one way or another.

So you’re forced to assist with Jinu’s plan, despite your obvious disinterest. Despite your clear distain at the idea of hurting people. But you go along with it because Abs wanted to spend time with you, because Mystery asked you sweetly and because Jinu looked at you like he was on the verge of breaking apart.

Curse your remaining empathy.

You didn’t really care for whatever plots or schemes Gwi-Ma demanded of you, at this day and age if you remember right you’re maybe at 450 years of existence give or take - not accounting for the 20 or so years you were actually human

The first 50 years of him tormenting you with the memories of your family or loved ones had stopped meaning anything, at this rate you’ve spent more time as a demon than you ever did alive with them so what do these memories even mean anymore? He could conjure up a dragon and say that it was your father and you’d believe him at this point - because it stopped meaning anything to you

You’ve spat that at him, told him that directly to his dying flame - he was furious and burned you with your markings for hours before getting bored and tossing you aside: you’re just one of millions of demons, why does it matter anyway?

You weren’t alone in this, knew other demons who also functioned similarly where none of you could care less - what’s he gonna do anyway, eat you? Kill you? Not much of a threat if it means you’re free of purgatory from him

At this rate he keeps you and the other like-minded individuals like you alive to torture you but you’ve grown bored

Tired

He doesn’t stop any demons from sneaking to the surface when they’re able, he wants them to succeed in whatever scheme they want after all so it’s not anyone’s business what you do

And what do you do?

You sneak up in your once human form, clad in whatever time appropriate clothes matched the living and breathing humans around you and you walked amongst them, observed them, quietly adored them from afar

You just people watched.

Your not-so-secret little hobby as you watched people, watch their happy moments, their sad moments, their worst and best moments, you even had the privilege to watch a few souls from the time they were able to crawl to the time they were being laid to rest surrounded by people who loved and remembered them

That thought was what occasionally made you sad.. that no one remembered you, but realistically you didn’t remember you

You have a habit of keeping your human illusion on in hell, not always, just enough so you wouldn’t forget what you use to look like - a little scared that if you forget then there’s no evidence that you existed before, Gwi-Ma tried to use that against you and you didn’t fight back just let it happen and then he got bored because you weren’t screaming or fearful

Aside from demons with similar mindsets you’re close with the demons that eventually become the Saja Boys, not because you sought them out but because it just lined up - all relatively tossed into hell at similar time periods

Baby shares what he remembers of his life with you, his face is so young and when he talks about the desperation he faced you feel bad for him but admit that you don’t.. know how to comfort him.. that you’ve forgotten

But he doesn’t stop you whenever you seem to think he feels down, doesn’t stop you when you pull him into your arms and softly hum some tune that you’ve memorised from one of your human retreats

You teach him how to read, when he admitted that he wasn’t sure what that was - each era that goes by you bring him a piece of literature that you’ve smuggled in from the surface and you sit down and teach him what things mean - what words are what, what the current trend of slang is

Mystery had lashed out at you on your first meeting, unable to fathom what he had become and he was feral - but you didn’t look at him in anger or disgust, just sadness

And it made him hate you for a while. Every time he encountered you, he’d growl and swipe at you but you never fought back, just let him do what he wanted as he cuts at your arm for the umpteenth time and occasionally you’d smuggle something delicious for him and offer it as a peace offering

Eventually he’d been at peace with you, opened up a little about himself and when he feels like he’s losing who he becomes.. you tell him what he told you, remembering the pieces of himself that he had started to forget and it’s enough to keep him satiated for a while as you two often just sit in silence together the times where you aren’t able to escape

Abs had admitted to you one day when he had tagged along with you on your people watching escapade that he didn’t remember anything from his previous life

He’d been wiped clean, the only thing that torments him is just an overwhelming sense of guilt or rage that gets ramped up when Gwi-Ma isn’t happy with him but other than that it’s.. empty up there.. which seemed worse in your opinion

When you first met him he didn’t emote much, expression neutral most of the time and then you and Jinu teach him how to feel again, feel things other than the guilt and rage and he learns to laugh even though he doesn’t remember why it’s important, on his second century he figures out why it’s fun to laugh again but he manages to suppress Gwi-Ma’s influence over that

Romance is scared of you. You notice immediately when Abs and Jinu introduce him when they come across him when he first lands in hell, he’s terrified of you in particular 

He’s not scared of Abs’ or Jinu’s height or frames, he’s scared of you - because you’re a woman, or at least once were a woman 

He notices that you stop getting in his space, that whenever he shows up and sits on the ground you’ll shift over so you’re not touching him - he realises that you know he’s scared of you but you’re not disgusted or annoyed by it, you’re still talking to him and engaging in conversation with him when he joins in and over time he steadily becomes more comfortable and initiates conversation with you

At some point he’s stopped flinching if your knees accidentally bump against each other, instead he gives you a smile and his eyes sparkle with warmth - something so foreign to all of you

Jinu is.. someone that you have a mutual respect with is how to word it

He’s the most affected by his memories and it often leads to arguments and walking on eggshells, the entirety of the centuries you knew him there’d be days he was alright - bantering with everyone, engaging in conversations

Then there’s other days where the memories are loud and he snaps at you in particular, because he admits that he hates the fact that you’re not suffering like he was and you admit to him that you envy him. Envy the fact that he still remembers what they meant to him. When he asks you to elaborate you point out that you’ve spent more time with Abs and Baby in the last year of knowing them in comparison to the 2 decades you had with your supposed family, you honestly didn’t even know if they were your family in the first place because sometimes there were inconsistencies in the torment - the faces blurred

“I envy the fact that they mean anything to you.” “What?” “They stopped meaning anything to me after he dangled the memories over my head for half a century.. I’ve known all of you longer than 5 of my human life spans could fathom. And you expect me to cling onto people that I don’t remember anymore?”

Most of your interactions are neutral, sometimes even good, then Gwi-Ma yanks on the leash he has on Jinu and he pulls away again

I have a HC that Jinu is the most active for this plan and the others had just followed his lead bc there wasnt much else to do honestly and it sounded kinda fun to do, they’ve got so much time on their hands and had just existed for years without really doing much aside from occasionally going up and sapping a soul or two - and with Gwi-Ma weakening they had 0 issues being on stand by but they see how Jinu is falling apart by the day and want to help him because they did learn to care

When Jinu discloses his plan, you were originally going to skip the congregation and just go people watch like you always did but Abs had grabbed your hand before you could sneak away and begged you to be there - just be a bystander because it’d for them

What you don’t expect is for Gwi-Ma to accept the proposal. For his twisted and sick fiery head to lift you up out of the crowd and force you up the stairs and slam you onto the stone flooring as you grunt out in pain, telling you on the spot that you’ll be responsible for assisting Jinu in his little scheme - when you deny him and fight back he amps up the torture, forces the others to watch as he burns you and watches you writhe in pain until you crack and agree in front of the crowd - in front of the guys

The moment you are released you’re silent, your body feeling like it was made of molten lava as you nod blankly because the pain is too much to bare for once and he laughs at your suffering - you hear the distant laughter of other demons as they follow his lead albeit hesitantly

Getting dismissed after Gwi-Ma and Jinu have their moment you don’t speak to any of them, not when Abs asks if you’re okay, not when Mystery tries to reach out to you or when Romance or Baby try to catch your eye, Jinu even tries to catch you but you refuse to look at any of them as you try to process what’s due to happen

Jinu isn’t talking to you like before, instead primarily speaking of the plan and you all collectively ignore the elephant in the room that is what little there is left of your morals being tested for this plan - to break the honmoon and let Gwi-Ma reign supreme

Your tasks as the ‘assistant’ isn’t that much, primarily sharing what you know about the current world, because you have the most experience with the modern times and when they show you their human forms you cringe at their ugly outfits - Abs  is the least offensive as he’s gone with you before on your people watching excursions but the others’.. are rough

you tell them that you’ll be the one to co-ordinate their outfits, things that will compliment them and make them look good and they’re all sceptical - even Abs

you grumble as a puff of pink smoke engulfs you briefly, now changed into one of your well-dressed outfits alongside your human form and they all pause - it’s not the usual hoodies you’d wear to blend in, it’s something nice that compliments your figure and suits your skin tone

you’ve even done your hair so it’s styled nicely with a cute matching hair pin and they begrudgingly agree to being dressed by you

you had broken down current music trends, explained what could make stand out in the current scope of tough bad boy music and girl crush music - something light and refreshing would break the market (prior to this plan you had shared this information as part of your usual info snippets when they asked about whats going on above, not knowing jinu was using this information for the plan)

when you’re tasked to help them secure a venue, Jinu already knows you have a place in mind and tasks the other guys with getting that information out of you

He knows youre not invested, knows youre trying to hide information but he knows as well that you cant help but offer up info to people when they ask with earnest

Mystery asks you, takes the time to take you aside and quietly asks you where you think a good place to go would be and youre hesitant but instead of describing it.. you take him with you so he can see himself

You warn him that it will be loud, it will be busy, you know he comes up the least aside from Jinu so you tell him if its overwhelming to let you know 

When you lead him to the public square he’s a little tripped out, looking blankly at all the shiny buildings and wow that ones made of almost all glass- but he follows your direction as you point out where you think would be a good spot to try for, then he asks about what else is in the area

And you tell him with this little sparkle in your eye what you know, about the little food stalls, about how on Mondays theres a little farmer that comes in with his truck and fresh crops he sells at a low rate bc hes so proud of himself, about how theres usually a lot more teens on a Friday as theyre running around hanging out and prolonging the inevitable of having to go home to do more homework

The sound of the crowd is drowned out to him as he focusses on your voice alone, doesnt even notice when a person or two bumps into him on their way by and apologises about it bc hes so wrapped up on whatever youre describing - the little snippets of genuine joy as you share small unimportant observations 

When you return back later he thanks you for taking him and he sees the smile on your face turn cold, but you still muster up the energy to say “you’re welcome” as your patterns surface

The first performance, the guilt is already steadily building up as you see people so excited about the Saja Boys debut

You’re watching them perform off to the side, looking at all the people so excited about the impromptu performance and cheering

Your heart feels full watching how happy everyone is for a moment you forget about the plan, a smile on your face as you get to witness their fleeting moments of joy

You don’t notice the hunters, and the hunters dont notice you, as you slip away from the crowd once the performance is done and you dont meet up with the boys again

Instead you wander aimlessly, appreciating the warmth of the afternoon sun and the bustling of the crowd

The peace

Abs appears abruptly, bringing an arm to wrap it around your shoulders in a playful manner but before he can, the words asking about how their performance was to you die on his tongue as he just observes your serene expression as you continued to look at the people around you

He doesnt interrupt you, letting his arm drop and just watching with a calm expression on his face and waits for you to notice him before he asks you how you thought they did

“I liked it.. you guys are good.” At your small praise, the way your lips curl into a genuine smile, it makes him feel something and it feels good

“..i wonder if it will be okay..” you murmured softly but he heard it, heard the hesitation and guilt leaking in but he doesnt engage - instead just follows you around as you continue to look around and enjoy your little hobby - the pretence of being human

After the game show that night, after their scuffle with the hunters - they come looking for you because they know you wouldnt go back right away, Jinu had split from them when he had his moment with Rumi

They catch you observing from a ways away, staring at something down by the street and they follow your line of sight to where theres a few teenagers recording themselves doing the Soda Pop dance, laughing and making fun of each other as they redo the take

You look sad as you watch them, they watch you hug yourself and the way you scratch at your arms slightly  like you need to self soothe - hear you whisper “they’re so young..”

No one says anything but Baby does go up and drops his head on your shoulder and you jolt, not expecting the contact and you almost turned to punch him had he not wrapped a familiar arm around your waist and quietly mumbled in his low voice that “you’re normally happier when you watch them (humans)”

He doesnt hear you reply but he feels you tense up under his arm, then youre all groaning as Gwi-Ma starts murmuring in your heads before youre all pulled down and into the crowd of awaiting demons

You dispel your human form first, breaking contact with Baby as everyones cheering and gushing over the boys - you slink into the crowd and out of the spotlight

Then someone screams about the soul dropping from the sky and you feel your stomach drop as you watch the light come down

The boys had dispelled their appearances by now, looking exhausted at the act they’d put on all day and you don’t stay long enough to see Jinu appearing by Gwi-Ma as you rush to get away

Jinu’s first secret meeting with Rumi you had caught him, before she had appeared, you talked to him and asked him what he was planning and he shrugged and said its just a casual talk

But you know better, you know he can be cunning so you give him shit for it

“She’s a human girl, Jinu. Her heart is fragile.” “She’ll get over it.” “She won’t.”

You’re frustrated at him, at his dismissive nature as he shrugs you off and tells you to piss off, before you leave you say over your shoulder that you “..hope you’re not playing around with her for fun. Thought you were at least above that.”

After he’s done messing with Rumi he seeks you out, not really knowing he’s actively doing it when he comes across you overlooking the city at some lookout area and just quietly observing it - the city lights frame you as you lean against the railing and it makes him misstep and almost fumble over himself

Your head turns to look at him flailing to look cool and you don’t laugh, just raise an eyebrow at him and you dont even smile because youre still pissed off at him

He gives you an awkward smile as he comes up to lean against the railing as well and neither of you say anything until you say something before he can

“You know what she is now, don’t you?”

Hes surprised, questions you on how you know and you shrug at him saying plainly that youve been around long enough to spot her when she’s having a meltdown in a not so private area here and there when she thinks no ones around to hear her cry

“..Jinu don’t play with her heart.” You say it like a plea and he scoffs a little, running a hand through his hair as he’s adamant that she’ll get over it and its not that big of a deal and you finally cut him down with

“You’ve had 400 years, to get over yourself. And you expect her to get over this in her time alive? You’re playing with her heart.” He freezes for a moment before his anger flares up in return “Stay out of my business.”

“I never wanted to be part of your business, you brought me into it.” You’re both furious, patterns on full display over your human skin as you glare at eachother

You knew why Gwi-Ma forced you to assist, yeah, you knew. Jinu was the one to call your name up because when you replay the memory of that moment in your head you see the regret and guilt on Jinu’s face as he watches you suffer for his benefit

The plan is succeeding, explosively at that - everywhere you went is their song playing, their human facades plastered everywhere and you feel conflicted

on one hand you should feel happy that their plan is succeeding, that things are going good

But then you feel sick at the fact that all these people are so happy and enjoying themselves without knowing they’re being used, someone’s late night snack could mean they become a demon’s late night snack

You’ve watched unsuspecting victims as demons lurk behind them and suck out their souls, there’s an instance where you attack a demon that’s about to feed off a young child and when they ask ‘Unnie what’re you doing?’ you smile at them and say that there was a big scary bee and you were trying to keep them safe as they squeal and hide behind you at that, that demon still remembers you and grumbles about it when he next sees you

There’s a moment where you’re down below, watching all the souls fall from the sky with the other Saja Boy members as you sit over a cliff to watch it all and you can’t stomach it knowing that it couldve been any of the faces that you’ve seen yourself - people who were oblivious because they were just trying to find some semblance of joy in their short life time

Romance catches you as you’re leaving, hand on your shoulder to stop you for a moment, then he sees the conflicted emotions in your eyes and he doesn’t stop you when you disappear from his grasp - just lets you go

So it leads you to the look out again, chest heavy as you look at the peace of the city knowing that your fellow demons are wrecking havoc and indulging in their hunger and greed

You can’t take it as the shame and guilt eats you alive, your patterns burn and you can hear Gwi-Ma cackling in your head as he mocks you and reminds you that it’s your fault for helping, your fault for assisting, has always been your fault for caring

In your past life time and now he reminds you that it was always your fault because all you did was care too much that you were blinded by it and would help anyone.. including the people who could turn on you at any point and then the blurred faces he used to torment you with are clear, faces of family friends you thought you could trust when you’d been ‘blessed’ by Gwi-Ma, the same faces that gleefully stole from you and abused you after you had helped them, the same that pointed and framed you for things you didn’t do which lead to your death as you were bludgeoned and thrown carelessly into the river 

Everything caves in and you’ve collapsed to your knees, heaving air into your lungs as the tears don’t stop and Gwi-Ma continues to laugh in your head as he distorts those old voices, the ones you thought you had forgotten as they all laugh at you for being a fool 

You don’t hear when footsteps approach you, you don’t hear the sound of a blade cutting through the air until you feel the relief of a cold blade pressed against your neck

“You.. you’re always around the Saja Boys.” You hear Mira’s voice as she speaks, her weapon gripped tightly in her hand as she holds it against your neck and you finally turn - eyes wide and expression frazzled as you realise the three hunters were surrounding you, weapons drawn and ready to end you if you move wrong

But they don’t expect you to lean into the sharp weapon, to press it deeper into your neck until it makes a cut and there’s blood leaking out as your hand tries and press it even deeper

“Wait- you can’t-” You hear Rumi’s voice and then you vaguely remember seeing a puff of smoke as familiar hands grab you and you’re taken away, to some secluded park and you vaguely remember hearing the sound of Romance’s voice as he calls out “Sorry, we’ll be taking our assistant home now.”

You’re quiet as you feel Abs arms hold you tight before he lets you down on the grass, lets you reorient yourself as you realise the four demons you’ve grown accustomed to had followed you up - watched you break down into your most vulnerable state and refused to let you go

No one says anything, no one reprimands you for being stupid and trying to get yourself killed, you feel Baby’s hand on the cut on your neck and he complains as he pulls it back and licks your blood off his hand before he leans down to make sure that your body is regenerating - even if you didn’t want it to it’s already done

You don’t look at them, your head is lowered as they watch your patterns shift and seemingly consume what little skin there is that isn’t already covered in markings and they don’t force you to go back down with them - just quietly stay in the vicinity of you because they’d be disingenuous if they said they knew what you were feeling

Mystery drops a jacket on you and though their bodies are facing you, they keep their gaze away to give you some semblance of privacy as they let you continue to cry your eyes out until you’re throat is hoarse and you ask if they can take you back home

After Jinu has his moment with Rumi and Gwi-Ma drags him back down to mock him in front of everyone, he’s a little listless as he wanders about and gets himself sorted for their last performance - the one that will make a difference for everything

he doesn’t know  that you’ve encountered the hunters, doesn’t know that Rumi had hesitated on having you killed because she never mentioned you

As he’s getting dressed and prepared to look the role - the group and you in their dressing room as the last pieces of their plan comes together, you finally break and ask Jinu in front of the others “Don’t you feel selfish?” he pauses as he finishes buttoning up his shirt and he calmly responds that “No, the memories will be gone and I’ll be free”

“What about the people here?” You ask and point out that he’s lived for centuries and most of them will be lucky if they make it to a fraction of that with their memories and joy still in tact, clearly even less now with the approaching doomsday - you hear Abs try to interject and say that things are going smoothly but you and Jinu keep going at eachother

“Just because you lost your humanity doesn’t mean these people have to suffer for it.” Your voice was quiet, softer than normal but the words were loud and cut deep.

“I don’t want to suffer anymore.” Jinu responds - tone flat because he doesn’t want to hesitate anymore.

“So they should?” You snap at him.

“What would you know! Huh?” He whirls around finally, expression crazed as his voice rumbles.

“What do you know about me, Jinu? Tell me. What do you know about me. It’s always about your memories, always about how you feel, everyone walks on eggshells around you so tell me. What. Do. You. Know. About. Me. About anyone, about any of the guys.” You’re jabbing at his chest now, with each pointed word you’ve emphasised it with a pointed finger jabbing into his chest.

“I don’t-” 

“Did you know that Baby is illiterate?” Baby freezes, eyes downcast when Jinu looks at him in shock.

“What-” 

“That Mystery keeps to himself because he’s scared he’ll lash out at you guys and hurt you.” Mystery shrinks in on himself, self conscious as he instinctively starts playing with his hands.

“...” 

“That Abby doesn’t recall a damn thing from his past life and is still tormented.” Abs doesn’t pipe up, just stays leant against the wall with his arms crossed as he listens to everything happen.

“Wait I..-” 

“That Romance is actually terrified of women. Do you? Do you know anything about any of us?” Romance doesn’t say anything either, when Jinu meets his eye he just breaks the eye contact and fixes up his shirt.

“We’ve known you for centuries and you push us aside, now you’re using an innocent girl to get what you want.” 

“And how does that affect you? You’re a demon, like me.” Jinu is hurt, his throat tightening up and he feels like he’s about to burst into tears as he sees yours brimming before spilling down your face as you try to keep your voice steady.

“Because I believed that you were still human. And I was clearly wrong for that.” You left them after that, not storming out but steps confident as you excuse yourself and leave. As you trail further and further away from the room you hear Gwi-Ma roar in your head about how joyous that was to witness and soon you find yourself in front of him again.

Your human form is crumbling, the demonic part of you no longer trying to hide as you stare at the ground below your feet as Gwi-Ma giggles gleefully

“Ah.. how I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long.” He comments as he absolutely revels in your suffering, then he continues on “Though.. would’ve preferred if you didn’t meddle with the others, they were doing so well without you making them feel free enough to think about anything but their suffering.”

You don’t scream when he attacks you, you don’t fight back as he ups the anti, you’ve already lost whatever war you’d been fighting against Gwi-Ma as he finally consumes you now that you’re pitiful and broken 

The final steps of the plan are succeeding, Huntrix has publicly broken up now and Jinu and the boys deliver the message on the last special performance - keeping up the pretty faces for the announcement before they allow themselves to get ready to perform in their true forms

They don’t know you’ve been consumed by Gwi-Ma, he’s gotten some low level demon to borrow your appearance and apologise to the boys - to trick them into thinking you were alive and well and on  board with the plan

They’re confused, don’t believe it’s you but they don’t have time to explore that as they need to get on stage now - ‘you’ wave at them and as the song starts they catch the demonic grin that slips onto ‘your’ face and they realise that sensation they had earlier like something important had been cut from the sliver of a soul they had left was the real you - that you were gone now

[bubbles-is-hardcore]

You know, Sam Winchester gets a lot of flack for the fact that all of his girlfriends die but at least it’s always a random thing. Dean on the other hand?? So much worse!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a Dean stan till I die but it is undeniably crazy.

My man had three boyfriends and all of them died. The big difference is the fact that they all died the exact same way. Dean (though however unintentional) convinced three supernatural beings to LITERALLY KILL THEMSELVES FOR HIM!!

He had all of them so deeply in love with him, he didn’t even have to really ask.

First we have Benny

He fell hard for Dean in Purgatory and was kinda dependent on him outside of it. It hurt Benny a ton when Dean had to cut contact because of Sam. Even then, he still willingly died and went back to the place he had tried for so long to escape. All for Dean and to make sure he was happy.

Then we have the King himself, Crowley.

Dude stabbed himself in the chest to give Dean time to escape. No illusion or trick, just a straight up suicide bomb to distract Lucifer. He clearly caught serious feelings for Dean over the years, especially after he got the mark and turned into a demon. Even though Dean straight up rejected him, he still was too deep in love. He committed suicide to keep him safe.

Then there’s the one and only, Castiel.

He died for Dean multiple times and had been in love with him for so long but this last one was really it. He confessed how much he loved Dean to his face! He said I love you! Knowing he would die if he did! All to save Dean! All to give him a chance! FUCK IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE THIS ONE HURTS!

Basically, Dean had men falling over each other to sacrifice themselves because they were so in love with him and he still had the gall to think he was unlovable.

In conclusion, Dean Winchester is the most oblivious man in the universe.

[eeriesilkworm]

The painting and Rink-O-Mania situation from Mike’s perspective is actually crazy

I mean think about it:

You just realised you don’t like girls and that you have feelings for your best friend the day he leaves for California. (Worst timing ever??)

You unexpectedly get back together with your girlfriend on that day too, but how the hell are you supposed to tell her that kissing her was your gay awakening when she just said, “I love you” to you?

So fucking awkward.

So now you’re stewing in purgatory hell, entering your freshman year of high school (which is already hard enough) and pining for your friend who never picks up the phone and won’t even call you back for eight months.

Plus, distance makes the heart grow fonder, so you’re definitely experiencing some angsty teen gay limerence. But you're holding out hope, because it seemed like he was sending you some signals last year... right?

Then you get a letter from El that Will has been painting a lot, acting weird, and that there’s probably someone he likes. Oh, and that someone might be a girl. LOL ok. FML. He’s not been calling you, so it must be someone else. Cool. Real fucking cool.

Then when you get to the airport and finally meet him, you’re so nervous you can’t even make eye contact or hug him properly. But he doesn’t even seem nervous at all. Also when the fuck did he get lowkey buff?

But he’s holding a painting! OMG yay! Maybe the painting was for you the whole time. There isn’t someone else, thank god. So, you ask about it. Like, immediately.

And he just completely rebuffs you? He brought it to the airport to pick you up and it’s not even for you? First, that was embarrassing. Second, what the fuck?

You just keep playing it cool and smile through the pain. Then El mentions a place called Rink-O-Mania. OH. Will is bringing the painting to Rink-O-Mania. He wants to give it to someone there.

Ok, time to put on your investigative goggles. Who’s going? Any of El’s friends? You glance Will’s way to see if he reacts. Will asks, “What friends?” He also wants to know who’s coming. Then, “Angela?” Will seems out of sorts. This Angela girl must make him nervous. Fuck. Since when did Will like girls anyway?

Then you get to Rink-O-Mania and there’s no Angela in sight. Will is mopey. He won’t even laugh at your jokes. He keeps rolling his eyes. He really doesn’t even want to be here. It’s like he doesn’t even care that you just got here!

This Angela chick finally shows up, but you get a little distracted by her friend. He’s kind of cute. He has nice hair. It kind of looks like… oh god he kind of looks like Will. Never mind. Get yourself together. Angela doesn’t seem to even notice Will – maybe it’s one-sided. Good.

You’re so distracted that you don’t even notice El is not comfortable with these people. Will is super concerned. What’s his problem? Jealous? Hah! Not so nice, is it?

And then oh, ok. El is being bullied. El is being bullied and has been for a while, and no one thought to tell you so now you look like a complete asshole. Great. Also, since when did Will know more about El than you? What are you now – the third wheel? Why is no one telling you anything?

And then Will has the gall to be angry at you. You who has been a SAINT. Piously waiting and pining on him. Trying to do the right thing, trying to be a good boyfriend. Trying to find the right time and the right words to tell her the truth even though it’s fucking scary. But honestly, what’s even the point? The guy you’re in love with doesn’t even like you back and thinks you're an asshole.

Plus, he complains that you only called a few times, when you tried to call a lot more. The phone was always busy. He was the one who barely called back! What is this? Some sick cosmic joke? Then your girlfriend loses her shit and schmacks Angela in the face in front of so many people… this is officially the worst day ever. Jesus Christ.

[scrivenger-grimgar]

svsss x tgcf crossover where shen yuan is so dedicated to making sure his blorbos get everything they deserve.

shen yuan dies cursing out pidw as normal but he ends up in tgcf.

the book was his meimei's favorite and they both read each others favorites so they could yell about them together. he did not expect to end up loving this danmei so much, and shi qingxuan was his queer reality check. did he figure out that he was aroace-spec from relating to xie lian? yes. does he want to talk about it? no.

when he dies cursing out pidw he SHOULD have ended up there, but there was a glitch in the system and he ended up in a little village in tgcf. he knows all the plot points and character names, but he doesn't know where or when he is in the plot and he really wants to give his blorbos everything they deserve but he is a toddler.

so he just,,, lives. he knows he wont be able to cultivate, his family can't afford to send him to a sect, and his village doesn't have much outside of the basics. so when his family caught him teaching other kids abd realized that shen yuan could read? AND write?? AND do math!!?? well...

"meng po said i didnt need any soup." becomes the first lie he tells. he is so glad he retained his resting bitch face.

they think he might ascend as some legendary civil god. shen yuan knows he wont. and he doesnt.

his days are spent teaching other children, learning from the village craftsmen, listening to the brothel jiejies play music, panicking about his blorbos, and planning.

in his teens he becomes the village's official teacher, and officially apprentices under a cloth weaver and learns to make paper and ink.

part of him tells himself that he's learning these things ti help his family, another part says its to keep his mind off the plot.

his second death is uneventful, mostly because nobody actually realizes that he's dead. his parents were old, and his elder sister already married out, so he lived alone for 5 years already. dead at 27 due to a house fire, yet his soul is already strong enough to be wrath.

he comes to the very fair assumption that its simply due to his status not as a reincarnator, but as a millenial. the sheer amount of depression and existential dread he faced as a physically disabled terminally ill millenial in the corporate hell that is the post capitalist corporate purgatory primed his being as one that simply cultivated resentment like a finely aged wine.

but he so geniunely enjoyed teaching and learning that he just. never told anyone that he was dead. it completely slipped his mind as unimportant because he knows that ghosts in this world are just humans a bit to the left, and since he is still the same person as before, is just as much of a ghost as he was before, knows that he can still teach and learn the same as before. it doesn't change anything for him.

he just picks up his ashes, apprentices himself to the village potter, makes himself a new tea set, and weaves a beatiful tapestry dedicated to the only god who can truly do no wrong, yushi huang.

he continues teaching and learning, and genuinely caring for his village, carefully, carfully making sure he does not hurt his people, making sure he does not scare them.

the way his people discover he is a ghost is not pretty, but neither is it ugly.

a nobleman was in town to rest the night with his entourage of guards. one young lady working the local brothel is harrassed by the guards, so nervous she trips and spills wine on the young master.

the nobleman, covered in wine, tipsy and enraged, grabs her and throws her to the ground, yelling at her to grovel and apologise; he does not notice the hateful gaze of shen yuan, once playing a delicate tune only moments before.

shen yuan wants to stop this, but that would definitely reveal him as more than human. the choice is taken from him as this stranger has the gall to step on one of his own students, he feels his patience snap in the stunned silence of the entertainment hall.

faster than possible for any mortal, he stands by them, holding the nobleman by the front of his stupid fancy robes, panicked babbling about that bitch having her man-whore friend doom himself to suffer both their fates. one of the guards stabs shen yuan through the chest.

there is screaming as the village's beloved teacher is run through, even as he ignores the wound and drags the nobleman from the building, the guards running after them. shen yuan takes the entire group out to the forest with only the nobleman as bait, and uses the silence if the night as a backdrop for the unrelenting slaughter of 15 people.

when he returns, he is covered in blood, carrying everything they had on them. the word has spread. their teacher is something else. but that wasn't nesicarily bad. the nobleman's rescources are stripped of identity and spread amongst the villagers. shen yuan has not harmed them, only stepping in when one of them was in harm's way. they have known him for 30 years, they know he is nothing if not kind.

so he protects them. because they have always been his family. so for centuries he does. he watches his peers as they grow old and die, caring after their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. he is their teacher. he is their uncle. he is their ---.

there was a period of time where the town thought shen yuan took on a heveanly tribulation only to reject godhood and return to the village. shen yuan tried to tell people that wasn't true, that he never became a god or refused godhood, that he was simply trapped in a mountain for a decade, stewing in a pot of resentment and accidentally becoming a ghost king.

he doesnt even know how he did that, just that apparently yoyos are similar enough to meteorhammers that he could apply the same concepts, and also that he had enough condenced rage and nerdiness to actually figure out anime moves with qi. so what if half of the ghosts in the kiln thought he was some kind of spider demon, he has cool threads that he can use to kill you.

and actually fuck you, spiders are pretty damn cool!

it starts not long after that. the prayers. his people are praying to him, as if he's some kind of god.

thats when he realizes. he can pray to the gods. he can pray to the gods, and they will only ever know the temple it came from. and really he's spent so long worrying over not just his blorbos but also his whole village, and really what is he if not an anonymous millenial internet troll.

and so it begins.

(remember to check reblogs for more!)

[pawinoia]

A Different Kind Of Therapy

Relationship(s): Chance x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Nails dug deep into their back, red streaks painting hot skin. The way you can feel every inch pulsing deep inside of you, tip kissing your cervix far more rough than how he's actually kissing you.

"You're so fucking tight," Chance mutters between each thrust, eyes trained on his cock disappearing into your cunt perfectly. Their thrusts seem so calculated, hips snapping quick enough to keep you a babbling mess of overstimulation and tears, but smooth enough so his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, and by god his moans, a perfect mix of whimpers and groans when you squeeze around him.

You're so thankful for having the luxury of separated cabins, moans reverberating so loudly you're certain anyone walking by could hear the well needed sex you and Chance were having.

Things have been hectic lately, with the addition of a new killer everyone's been raving about with paranoia. Granted, having been a liscenced therapist before being sent to this.. purgatory, if you will, You do your best to help around with keeping everyone mentally stable enough to keep pushing on.

With surivors like Two Time, your job is a little harder dealing with someone actually brainwashed. 007n7 has been taking the addition of Noli especially hard. From what you've learned from your therapy sessions with him, the two were inseparable. Naturally, this new character would only cause 007n7 to spiral once more.

While you do love your role here, it does take its own toll on your mental state too.

Overcome with empathy and worry for your team members, you've been putting aside your own feelings to help them a little more. Longer sessions, Further in-depth questioning, more engaging exercises.

Chance was very quick to notice the slow drop in your mental health. They would bring it up often, asking if there was anything he could do to help you; be it cleaning the cabin anytime you were away so you always came back to an organized space, having Elliot help him make your favorite dishes, or even giving you the space to just be you.

And though it did help, the weight of everyone else's problems applied more pressure on your mind than anything.

So, when you asked Chance for a favor, he'd drop whatever he was doing to help. Especially now.

 

"C-close," you barely manage to get the word past your lips, quickly drowned in your moans again. One of your hands on their back tangles in their hair, tugging rough enough to make Chance hiss softly, a light moan slipping past his lips.

"I got you sweetheart," He pants, knuckles turned white from how hard his hand had been gripping the headboard. Their other hand slips down your body to rub quick, heavy circles on your clit, their rhythm changed so they could angle their hips just right to hit the sweetest spot in your body.

Pulling them closer, they're quick to busy himself with sucking hickeys into your skin, sharp teeth leaving bites on your collar bones and shoulders, almost enough to break skin and make you bleed.

"You gonna make a mess fa'me, huh?" They laugh, making sure to keep a consistent pace - especially when your legs cage them in tightly.

Your moans begin to grow lighter, and Chance watches the adorable expression on your face as your head drops back into the pillows, sobbing as yet another orgasm wracks through your body, adding to the foamy white ring around Chance's cock.

He coos sweet praises into your ear, carrying you through your orgasm. "Don't stop," you murmur, repeating yourself over and over. Chance is surprised, honestly, yet obeys your wishes, readjusting himself.

"Are you sure?" He asks, just wanting to make sure that this is really what you want, slowly moving his hips.

"Yes, please," You cry, hips stuttering occasionally from the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Jus' don't stop, need you,"

Chance raises his eyebrows, listening to you beg, even if you already have him. They place a sweet kiss to your forehead, gently running a hand through your hair.

"Need you so bad."

Chance watches your desperate actions as you rock your hips just to feel him inside you again, as though he wasn't already there.

They think they're even harder than they were just a second ago.

[lizaintheduster]

Oh my god, the idea that God keeps bringing Cas back because he thinks Dean moping around the bunker is boring is so funny. Like the first two times God brings him back, he does it right away cause he's like, "This freaky lil Angel is pretty interesting to have around. Let's throw him back into the mix." But then when he betrays Dean and dies in season 6/7, at first Chuck is just sipping Mojitos and luxuriating in the man pain, but then the man pain just. doesn't. stop. And fuck that's boring, Dean just won't stop moping.

So fuck it, let's give Cas amnesia and some weird wife, he won't have to be plot relevant anyway cause obviously he'll take on Sam's hell trauma, boom two birds, one stone. Now we can get back to the brothers brothering. Except fuck, somehow Cas has wound up going to purgatory with Dean, ugh lame. Well, let's just give Cas a few nightmares that really play into his self-loathing, that should be enough to get him to stay behind, the self-deprecating sad sack. But shit, didn't think this through, Dean's out and he's already looking pretty mopy.

No worries, just gotta push Naomi in the right direction, just a little nudge, there we go. Cas is back, but with a tasty little twist of Heaven mind control to keep him out of the narrative. Excellent. Screw it. Maybe Naomi could even get him to turn on Dean? Dean could kill him, that would be awesome. Wait, why the hell isn't Dean fighting back? Get off your knees! Cas can't kill Dean, that's lame, I'll have to think of some way to bring him back... wait, wait what? Did he just snap out of Angel programmed mind control? Oh for fuck sake, this is gonna be such a pain in the ass.

Blah blah, several more seasons of trying to keep Dean and Cas apart including having Gadreel fall near the hospital, retconing how Reapers work so one can try to take out Cas, pointing that weird pink Goo Angel in a Cas shaped direction, having it so that stolen grace is a thing that drains away, but nothing is God Damn Taking. The Angel is still up and kicking, and for some reason, Dean seems hung up on the broken little thing.

Right, time for mental warfare. If just the right digs are made at just the right times, maybe, maybe the Angels self esteem will drop low enough to... that's it. There it is. Say yes to Lucifer. Another betrayal, right, Dean? Right, Dean? Dean? Oh for crying out loud he's not even dead! Dean get over it, he said yes to Lucifer, he sucks Dean, why do you care? Ugh fine, let's say Amara's juice blasts Lucifer out of Cas, happy now? Fuck he's so boring when he's worried about what? A defective Angel?

Whatever, let's just throw some random side quests at them for a while. Surely, Dean will just lose interest eventually. Oh! Idea! Trap Dean and Sam in a government facility and then sabotage every attempt the Angel makes to save them. Again, two birds, one stone. Cas will feel useless and pathetic for failing to save Dean, and Dean will surely realise what a useless waste of celestial intent Cas is.

Okay, at this point, I should have seen this coming. Oh, thank me, Lucifer kebabed him. Light show, big burnt out wings for dramatic effect. This time, let's just wait it out. Dean can't stay single minded, drunk and hung up on Cas forever. Eventually, he'll realise he needs to step up to the plate and start parenting the Angel kid, I have some amazing Abraham and Issac stuff lined up, so we need to get moving with the bonding. Any minute now. Any minute now. Come on Dean, he's not even that strong anymore, why do you care? Jesus Christ Dean, you know your mom is also dead, right?

Screw it. Let's say Jack's powers can reach the empty. Shit does this mean I need to figure out how the empty works? I never got round to writing any of that. Okay, wow that was a choice, maybe I'll retcon the accent later... let's just focus on getting Cas back to earth, so Dean... aaaaand Dean has it wearing a fucking cowboy hat. How, out of all my universes did this glitch wind up infecting the original. Should have let the Angel just stay dead that first time, would have made my life so much easier.

Well, it's the final hour, might as well get one last hit in. Let's kill off the alternate universe people first, that should be just the right push to... perfect, yep, Dean blames death, and of course, Cas will follow. Hook line and sinker. I'll just let Death kill Cas, and then I'll have Death's weird poison thing wipe her out at the last second so Dean's still around for the end game. Oh? Oh, no way? You have got to be kidding me. This is priceless. He's actually saying it? That's the money shot right there. Wow. I need a margarita. Oh, but wait. Idea! Wouldn't it be perfect, just perfect, if Dean's childhood selective mutism were to make the briefest reappearance. Just for a second. Ahhh. You have outdone yourself, Chuck. No more revivals, Dean. I'm already bored.

[edenesth]

The Paradox of Us

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Relationships are rarely as simple as they seem. It becomes heartbreakingly complicated when two souls, bound by a love that still burns bright, come to realise that sometimes, love alone may not be enough to keep them together.

A/N: Seonghwa's 踊り子 (odoriko) cover has been on repeat since the moment it came out. I couldn't get it out of my mind and just knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't write anything inspired by it.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"I don't love you."

Strangely, those words would have been easier to bear. But instead, you heard the ones that shattered you in ways you never thought possible: "I love you so much... but we can't go on like this anymore."

The ache was unbearable, as if your heart was tearing itself apart with every replay of his broken voice in your mind. You would have preferred if he had said his love had faded, that the spark was gone. At least then, you could grieve, accept, and move forward. But no—he still loved you. Deeply. And that cruel truth left you stuck in a purgatory of emotions, unable to let go.

Yet, you understood him. You always did. And perhaps that was the most painful part of all—knowing he was right. You had felt it too, this growing divide neither of you could bridge. But you hadn't been brave enough to say it aloud, to admit that love wasn't enough to hold together two people who simply weren't meant to be.

So, he said it for you. And now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been, and the love that would never quite fade.

"It'll be alright, sweetie. Time heals everything," your mother murmured, her hand gently rubbing your back as you blinked away tears and refused to meet her gaze. Her tone was soft, even comforting, but you couldn't stand it—not when she sat there pretending she hadn't played a pivotal role in this heartbreak. You could almost feel her satisfaction simmering beneath the surface, hidden behind her facade of concern. After all, hadn't she always believed he would never measure up? That he was never good enough for you?

You hated it—hated her.

Hated how she had turned your relationship with him into a battlefield, her disapproval so loud, so ever-present, that it became impossible for him to feel at home in your life. How dare she sit beside you now, feigning sorrow, when her constant criticisms had planted the seed of doubt that grew into the conclusion you dreaded? How dare she, of all people, offer comfort when she had made you believe that love—your greatest love—wasn't enough?

Her words echoed in your mind, the ones she'd repeated time and time again: "Love and compatibility aren't the same. Love is powerful, yes, but relationships are more than just feelings—they require shared values, aligned goals, and practical compatibility." She had said it so often that it became a mantra, one you tried to ignore until it became impossible.

And then there was him.

You hated him too—hated him for giving in, for not fighting harder, for agreeing with everyone else. For being too selfless, too considerate, too good. He'd always told you, "Family comes first. Everything else—including me—comes second." You hated that he meant it. Hated that he let you go because he believed it was the right thing to do, the thing that would hurt the least.

But most of all, you hated yourself.

Hated yourself for knowing, deep down, that they were all right. That maybe love really wasn't enough. You hated yourself for being too afraid to defy them, too afraid to risk it all for him. While he was brave enough to let you go, and your mother was relentless in her convictions, you had been the coward. You let everyone else make the choice for you because you couldn't bear to make it yourself.

And now, you were left with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of what-ifs and the haunting ache of knowing you had lost not because you didn't love enough, but because you hadn't been brave enough to fight for that love.

"The right person will come along," she said softly. You pressed your eyes shut, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. Without another word, you pushed yourself up from the dining chair, leaving your barely touched meal behind, and headed to your room.

Before you could step through the door, her voice followed you, cutting through the air like a knife. "You'll thank me one day when you meet a man who can give you all the things that boy never could."

Your fists clenched as you slammed the door shut behind you. Sliding down to the floor with your back against the wood, you let her words fester. Maybe she was right. You weren't getting any younger. Around you, friends and cousins were all settling down with partners your mother would call 'suitable.' And you hated it—hated that, in her eyes, Seonghwa could never be that person for you.

But then, the thought struck: you were your mother's daughter. How much of this was truly her fault? At some point, hadn't you begun to believe her? Slowly, insidiously, her words had taken root in your mind. You did this. To him, to yourself.

You remembered watching others build their perfect, storybook lives with partners who ticked every box society demanded. And you wondered—quietly at first, then louder—if you and Seonghwa could ever achieve the same. Could he be that for you? Could you be that for him?

It wasn't fair. Not to him, not to you. You hated yourself for the way doubt crept in, for how your mother's voice echoed in your head, pointing out the cracks and differences you had tried so hard to ignore. You hated yourself for wishing things could be different, for swallowing those thoughts because you loved him too much to ask him to change. He was who he was—his own person.

How could you ask him to mould himself into someone your mother would approve of? Someone society deemed 'right' for you? And if he did, would he even be the man you fell in love with?

It was those questions, those doubts, that began to live rent-free in your mind. Bit by bit, they widened the gap between you. And Seonghwa wasn't blind. He saw it. He felt it.

"You deserve someone better—someone who can give you so much more," he had said that final night, his voice breaking under the weight of goodbye.

It was your fault—your doubts, your actions, your silence. They had pushed him to that conclusion. And now, as the door behind you trembled with your suppressed sobs, you wondered: How dare you blame your mother for what you had done to him? To yourself?

How dare you?

"Gaming at San's place next, you coming?" Wooyoung asked, tossing a napkin onto the table as everyone scrambled to leave. The ridiculous game they'd invented—where the last one to leave had to pay the bill—had everyone laughing and darting for the exit.

Seonghwa's smile barely touched his lips as he shook his head and reached for his wallet. "Go on with them. I'll cover it."

The younger man hesitated, glancing at him before blurting out, "Dude, you can't always give in like this. Your poor financial planning skills are exactly why she left you."

The table fell silent, the air suddenly heavy. Wooyoung's grin faltered as he realised what he'd said, too late to take it back. Seonghwa didn't flinch outwardly, but the words sliced deep because they were true. Partly, at least.

It wasn't like he made much, not compared to the rest of his friends with their steady corporate jobs. And yet, he wasn't careful with what little he had. You had always been the one saving, planning, building a future he could barely contribute to. People his age were buying cars, investing in property, making strides toward a stable life. But he wasn't like them. He had chased his passion as a figurine crafter—a dream that didn't come with a steady paycheck—and he'd known the risks. Your mother was right: you deserved someone who could offer you the stability he never could.

"Hey, man," Wooyoung said quickly, guilt colouring his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I got the bill already, so don't worry about it. Just come with us tonight, yeah? Relax a little."

But the eldest only gave a faint shake of his head. The apology didn't soften the truth of the remark. He was the reason things fell apart. Not because he didn't love you enough—he loved you too much—but because love wasn't enough.

He'd failed you. Failed to provide the kind of life you deserved. He couldn't believe you'd even agreed to be with him in the first place, so different were your worlds. Your family background, your education, your values, your ambitions—they all set you apart. He had nothing to offer someone like you. And yet, he had been selfish enough to hold on, to want you despite knowing he could never measure up.

He should have worked harder. Should have tried to step up and be the man you needed. But he hadn't, because deep down, he knew he couldn't. Perhaps he had always known it wouldn't last. That one day, you'd wake up and realise the same.

You didn't leave right away. You stayed longer than he deserved. And when you finally began pulling away, when the signs became impossible to ignore, he had to let go. It wasn't courage that made him end it—it was inevitability.

"Come with us, hyung," Wooyoung tried again, his voice gentler this time.

But Seonghwa shook his head once more. "You guys go ahead without me. I... I have somewhere to be."

It was a lie, and they all knew it. He had nowhere to be. Nowhere that mattered, at least. Just his empty apartment, where the echoes of your absence would greet him like old, familiar ghosts.

He didn't care if they saw through the lie. What mattered was that he deserved this—the loneliness, the self-pity, the regret. He had almost broken you apart from your family because he was selfish enough to believe his love was enough. He had almost stolen your future because he couldn't face the truth.

But now, it was over. You had given him the courage to do what was right in the end. He was grateful for that. Grateful you'd started pulling away. Grateful you'd given him the signs. Grateful you'd broken his heart with the words he couldn't bear to say himself.

It's time.

Time to stop pretending.

Time to let you go.

Time to let the misery end.

Yes, let it all go. Let the misery end.

He repeated the words in his head like a chant as he drove, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each mile. The familiar streets blurred past him, their lights shimmering in his tear-filled eyes. He swiped at his face with his sleeve, but the tears kept coming, warm and unrelenting. He hated himself for it. Hated that, even now, he could almost see you sitting beside him, your laughter echoing faintly in his memory.

These night drives had been your sanctuary. Just you and him, wrapped in the quiet of the world, as if nothing else mattered. Not the expectations, not the disapproving glances, not the relentless whispers about how you two didn't belong together. It had always been just you and him against everything.

But now, it was just him.

He didn't dare glance at the passenger seat. He couldn't bear the sight of its emptiness, couldn't face the truth of your absence. His mind played cruel tricks on him, filling the silence with phantom conversations, fleeting glimpses of your smile.

Everything around him reminded him of you. The way the streetlights hit the pavement, the faint smell of your favourite perfume lingering in his car, the songs on the radio you'd sing along to when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He wanted to escape it, but he knew going home would only make it worse.

Home.

The word felt hollow now. How could it be home when you weren't there? Every corner of that apartment held traces of you—the books you'd stacked neatly on the shelf, the coffee mug you always left on the counter, the sheets that still carried the faintest scent of your shampoo. He knew he should let those remnants go, pack them away, make it easier to move on. But the thought of erasing you felt like losing you all over again.

As the weight of it all pressed down on him, he slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. His hands trembled as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, the cool leather grounding him for just a moment.

Is this hurting you too?

He wondered if you were struggling as much as he was. Part of him selfishly hoped you were, that you missed him the way he missed you. But another part—the part that loved you more than he loved himself—hoped you were finding peace. Hoped you were happier without him, that his decision to let you go had given you the chance to find the stability, the life, you deserved.

Clutching a hand to his chest, he finally let the tears fall freely. The ache in his heart felt unbearable, like a piece of him had been ripped away and might never grow back. Would he ever be okay again? Would he ever know happiness without you?

He didn't know.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. But he told himself, over and over, that this was the right thing to do. It didn't matter if he was happy. It didn't matter if he felt whole again. All that mattered was you. And as he sat there, broken and lost, he prayed you were finding the happiness he couldn't give you, even if it meant he would never find it again.

It's okay... she'll find the right person now.

The right person. Who even decided what that meant? Who had the authority to label someone as right or wrong for you?

Maybe it was the lingering ache for Park Seonghwa, the way his name still carried the weight of memories you hadn't yet learned to let go. Or maybe it was the frustration bubbling inside you, resentment toward your parents for tricking you into meeting this man—the son of your father's business partner—the one they couldn't stop praising.

Jung Yunho, the perfect man, as they called him. He was everything they'd ever wanted for you, a textbook example of stability, charm, and success. But the problem wasn't him. It was you. You weren't ready, not yet. Maybe not ever. Years had passed since the breakup, but the ghost of what you had with Seonghwa still clung to you, a shadow that even time couldn't chase away.

"Hey," Yunho's voice pulled you back from your spiralling thoughts. His gaze, warm and sincere, met yours as he leaned in slightly. "You feeling alright?"

Caught off guard, you glanced down at your untouched plate of steak and managed a small nod. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

But he didn't look convinced. Instead, his lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile—the kind that could probably disarm anyone, just not you. "How could I not, when such a pretty lady is sulking before me?" he teased gently. Before you could reply, he reached across the table, taking your plate without hesitation. "Here, let me help you."

With careful precision, he began cutting the steak into neat, bite-sized pieces. The gesture was so thoughtful, so kind, and yet it left you feeling hollow. It wasn't the act itself—it was the way it lacked the weight of familiarity.

Seonghwa used to do the same thing, but it had always been different with him. He'd grumble playfully about how you'd never learn to do it yourself, though he never minded doing it for you. His hands were smaller, more delicate, and you'd always find yourself staring at the faint scars from his crafts. Yunho's hands, while steady and practised, didn't hold the same history.

"All done," Yunho said cheerfully, sliding the plate back to you. "Now you have no excuse not to eat."

You forced a polite smile, murmuring a quiet "thank you" as you picked up your fork. Yunho didn't seem to notice the distant look in your eyes, or perhaps he was kind enough not to point it out.

He was wonderful. Thoughtful, patient, and sincere. By all accounts, he was the right person. But as you sat there, forcing yourself to chew, you couldn't help but wonder:

What if the right person wasn't the one who checked all the boxes? What if they were the one who didn't, but still felt like home?

The rest of the night crawled by like a snail, every passing second stretching unbearably long. You shifted in your seat, wishing you were anywhere but here. Yunho was a great guy—attentive, charming, and genuinely kind. But that only made it worse. He deserved someone who could meet his enthusiasm with equal fervour, someone who didn't have her mind wandering to someone else entirely.

You sighed quietly, pushing your barely touched drink to the side. What the hell was wrong with you? This was what you'd agreed to, wasn't it? This was what you'd sacrificed so much for. Years ago, you walked away from the love of your life because it felt like the right thing to do, to pursue the kind of stability and compatibility everyone insisted was more important than love alone. And now here it was, right in front of you.

The right person.

Yet, as you glanced at Jung Yunho's radiant smile, so effortlessly warm, the thought of spending the rest of your life with him felt less like the happy ending you'd envisioned and more like a cage. A beautiful, gilded cage that offered everything a woman could ever ask for—security, stability, admiration. Everything except the one thing your heart still longed for.

All you could ever find inside yourself was the same man you'd tried so hard to let go of.

Park Seonghwa.

Your chest tightened at the thought of him, your mind betraying you with memories you'd worked so hard to bury. You wondered how he was doing, though it wasn't as if you hadn't heard. Mutual friends kept you updated more than you cared to admit, their words painting glimpses of a life that no longer included you.

You'd heard he was finally making progress with his work, his passion—the very thing you'd once defended but later doubted. He'd opened a small store, modest but filled with so much of himself. It sold various collectable art pieces: action figures, miniatures for tabletop games, and custom character figurines crafted with meticulous care. Fans of Star Wars and Animal Crossing flocked to him, drawn to the detail and love that radiated from every piece he touched.

And you were proud of him. God, you were so proud of him.

He'd stayed true to himself, despite all the judgement, all the whispers about how he'd never make it, how he'd never be good enough. He'd proved them wrong. He'd built something meaningful, something entirely his own. You were happy for him, truly, but beneath that happiness lay an ache you couldn't ignore. You regretted not being there to witness it, to cheer for him when he finally achieved what he'd always dreamed of.

But maybe that wasn't what he wanted. For all you knew, he'd moved on, found someone who stayed by his side through all the highs and lows. Someone who loved him openly and without reservation, who didn't make him feel like he'd never measure up.

Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd sworn off love entirely after the way things ended between you two.

Either way, you couldn't blame him. You wouldn't blame him. Not after the pain you'd both endured.

Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Is... everything okay? You've been quiet tonight." His concern was genuine, his eyes soft with worry, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

But deep down, you knew you weren't fine. And you didn't know if you ever would be.

"How much for that one?"

The tiny voice drew Seonghwa's attention, and he glanced down at the little girl standing on tiptoes, her small finger pointing eagerly at the figurine encased behind the counter. It was the only one displayed under glass, like a prized treasure—and in a way, it was.

He hummed, his eyes softening as he turned to look at the figure in question. The Kuromi figurine sat proudly on the top shelf, right next to the LED sign that glowed softly with his store's name: Star Mars. The design was intricate, every detail was carefully crafted with love and precision.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said gently, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. "That one's not for sale. It's reserved for someone very special."

The little girl pouted, her lips forming a perfect curve of disappointment, and his heart melted a little. But no amount of adorable pouting—or even persuasive whining—could ever convince him to sell it.

That Kuromi figurine wasn't just a piece of art; it was a promise, a memory frozen in time. It was one of the first figurines he'd perfected, the culmination of years of practice and the relentless pursuit of his passion. He'd made it as a gift for you—his favourite girl.

It still is yours, if only you wanted it.

The child's father stepped forward, lifting her into his arms as he gave Seonghwa an apologetic bow. "Don't worry about her, Mr Park. I'll convince her to go with the Isabelle one instead."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, standing upright as he waved off the father's concern. "No problem at all. Isabelle's a great choice," he said, though his eyes lingered briefly on the Kuromi figurine.

As the father and daughter moved on to browse the other displays, Seonghwa found himself lost in thought. He didn't display that piece out of pride or for show—it was there because it reminded him of you. Of the nights you'd spend sitting cross-legged on the floor of his studio, playfully teasing him about his obsession with getting every detail just right.

"She looks like you," he'd said when he showed it to you for the first time. You'd laughed, brushing it off, but the glint of affection in your eyes told him you secretly loved the comparison.

He'd planned to give it to you on your birthday, but the timing never felt right. And then, before he knew it, you were gone.

The bell above the door jingled, the familiar sound slicing through the haze of his thoughts and yanking him back to the present. He straightened up, plastering on the polite smile he reserved for customers, though the weight in his chest never eased.

"Good evening! Welcome to…" His voice faltered mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat as his entire world screeched to a halt.

There you were.

It had been years, but time seemed to melt away the moment his eyes landed on you. You stood there in the soft glow of his store lights, more beautiful than he remembered—if that were even possible. Your silk dress shimmered gently with each subtle movement, an elegant coat draped effortlessly over your shoulders. The once long hair he used to run his fingers through was now cropped to your shoulders, framing your face in a way that made you look older, wiser—but still you.

Even after all this time, his heart betrayed him. It thundered in his chest, each beat screaming your name. He clenched his fist tightly at his side, willing himself to stay rooted where he stood. Every fibre of his being ached to run to you, to close the distance, but he couldn't. He shouldn't.

Slowly, shakily, he mustered a smile, though it felt like his heart might burst from the sheer force of its racing. Then, to his astonishment—and heartbreak—you returned it. A soft, familiar curve of your lips that nearly undid him.

But then, it fell apart.

The moment shattered as a tall, striking man stepped in behind you. He moved with easy confidence, his presence commanding attention as if the universe itself had tilted slightly to make room for him. Without hesitation, his hand found its way to your shoulder, resting there with an ease that spoke of familiarity.

"See anything you like?" the man asked, his deep voice carrying the warmth of intimacy as he looked down at you.

You blinked, startled, as if shaken from a dream. "Oh… I was just…" Your voice trailed off as your gaze flicked back to your ex-boyfriend, lingering for a moment longer than it should have.

Seonghwa's smile faltered, but he quickly schooled his expression, burying the ache that clawed at his chest. He nodded politely, forcing himself to focus on the customer standing in front of him—the both of you.

The Kuromi figurine sat silently on its shelf, bathed in soft light, waiting for a moment that might never come. The air inside the store suddenly felt stifling. Seonghwa stood behind the counter, his hands gripping its edge like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Welcome to Star Mars," he said, his voice steady but his smile trembling under the weight of emotions. He forced it wider, hoping it would mask the whirlwind within. "It's been a while. How have you been?" His heart clenched as the words left his mouth. He wanted to sound casual, as though you were just another customer, but he couldn't. You weren't just anyone. You never had been.

You gave him a hesitant smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I've been good. How about you?"

Before he could answer, the man beside you—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding warmth—stepped forward, his curiosity evident. "Oh, you two know each other? What a small world!" His voice was friendly, his smile sincere, and Seonghwa's chest tightened further.

He should feel relief. This man, presumably your boyfriend—or worse, your fiancé—seemed perfect for you. He was everything Seonghwa had wanted for you when he stepped away, believing he could never give you the life you deserved. And yet, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him.

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, this is Seonghwa. He's... an old friend of mine."

Old friend. The words landed like a punch to his stomach, but he kept his composure.

The man extended a hand toward him, his smile unwavering. "I'm Yunho. It's nice to meet you! Next time my nieces and nephews need new toys, I'll know who to come to."

Seonghwa took his hand, shaking it firmly while managing a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too." His gaze flickered back to you, catching the way you avoided meeting his eyes.

As if on cue, Yunho's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he excused himself, stepping outside to take the call. For the first time since you'd entered, the air felt heavy with unspoken words.

You turned back to your ex, your eyes meeting his briefly before dropping to the counter. "Congratulations... Seonghwa," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a fragile memory. "It's good to see how far you've come."

He nodded slowly, his smile softer now, though the ache in his eyes remained. "Thank you. And... congratulations to you as well," he said, glancing toward the window where Yunho stood. "He seems amazing."

The kindness in his tone made it hurt even more.

"No," you blurted, shaking your head. "He's not... we're just... friends. I don't..." Your words faltered, your voice trembling. "I'm not with anyone."

His brows lifted in surprise, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. You wished he'd say something, anything, but the way his eyes softened, brimming with a mix of emotions��relief, hesitation, and something deeper—was answer enough.

Your breath hitched when your gaze landed on the figurine behind him. Kuromi. Encased in glass, displayed on the highest shelf. You remembered the countless hours he'd spent perfecting it, the way he'd proudly shown you the finished piece.

He still kept it.

Before you could find the courage to ask why, Yunho reappeared, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade. "Hey, sorry to cut your little catch-up session short, but something urgent came up at work, and I—"

Seonghwa straightened, his polite smile snapping back into place. "Of course, don't let me keep you."

Your heart sank as he turned to you, bowing slightly. "It was nice seeing you again."

You forced a smile, though your chest ached with everything left unsaid. "It was nice seeing you too."

As you followed Yunho out, you couldn't resist glancing back one last time. Your eyes met Seonghwa's, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as though a thousand words passed between you.

Regret. Longing. Love.

The bell above the door jingled again as you stepped out, your heart heavy with the weight of the encounter. Yunho was quiet as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. The silence between you felt thick, almost suffocating, but you didn't know what to say. How could you explain the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you without sounding selfish or ungrateful?

"It's him, isn't it?" Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, soft but resolute.

Your head snapped toward him, your heart pounding in panic. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered, the guilt already clawing its way to the surface.

He sighed, pulling the car to a gentle stop in front of your home. Turning to face you, he gave you a small, knowing smile. "The man from the store. Park Seonghwa, right? He's the one you've been thinking about all night. Tell me if I'm wrong."

Your breath caught, your hands fumbling with the seatbelt as you tried to come up with a response. But the look in his eyes told you that lying wasn't an option. "I…" You paused, finally managing to unfasten the seatbelt, but your words seemed caught in your throat. "I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't mean for this to happen."

He leaned back with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You don't have to apologise. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I knew from the beginning that you weren't exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but I still went along with it, hoping… I don't know, that maybe something would change."

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "You deserve better than this," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Hey." He reached out, his hand covering yours with a comforting warmth. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you turned back to him, your vision blurred with unshed tears.

"You don't owe me anything," he said gently. "This… whatever this was supposed to be, it wouldn't have worked if both of us weren't fully in it. And that's okay. You know why?"

You shook your head, your voice barely audible. "Why?"

"Because this decision—choosing who you want to be with—it's for you, not for your parents, not for me, and certainly not for anyone else. It should never be about what people think or what they want. It's your life. Live it for yourself."

His words struck you like a bolt of lightning, unravelling years of self-doubt and regret. He was right. How had you allowed yourself to be swept up in everyone else's expectations, losing sight of what truly mattered to you?

You sat back in your seat, letting his words sink in, feeling a strange mix of guilt and liberation. After a long moment, you nodded, your voice steadier now. "Thank you, Yunho. For everything."

He smiled, his eyes kind and understanding. "Go on," he said, tilting his head toward your house. "And don't let fear hold you back this time."

As you stepped out of the car, his words echoed in your mind, igniting a spark of courage you hadn't felt in years.

You turned back, watching as Yunho drove away, his figure disappearing into the night. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sliver of clarity.

It wasn't too late. You still had a choice to make. And this time, you'd make it for yourself.

The shop was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of paper as Seonghwa meticulously wrapped the Isabelle and Grogu figurines the pair of father and daughter finally agreed on getting. His movements were precise, his focus seemingly sharp, but his mind was elsewhere—stuck on the brief yet piercing encounter that had just walked out of his life again.

"That Kuromi one… it's for the pretty lady earlier, isn't it?"

The father's voice broke through Seonghwa's haze, and his hands froze briefly before resuming their task. He didn't look up, focusing instead on folding the edges of the wrapping paper with unnecessary care. "You might be right," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than intended. "But it doesn't matter if it is."

The man tilted his head, a subtle frown forming as he cradled his daughter closer. "And why's that? It clearly still means a lot to you both."

Seonghwa finally glanced up, forcing a polite smile, though it faltered almost immediately. "You saw it yourself... she's with someone else. Someone better." The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, laced with a resignation he didn't quite believe in.

The man sighed, shifting the little girl in his arms so she could hold her new Grogu figurine. He regarded your ex with a look that felt far too knowing. "I also saw how she looked at you," he said softly. "And she didn't look like someone who's better off."

Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard, but the customer wasn't finished. His gaze drifted toward the cute purple figurine that was not for sale, and for a moment, his expression softened into something fragile—something etched with pain.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "my wife used to love Sanrio too. She had this little Cinnamoroll keychain she carried everywhere." He chuckled faintly, the sound bittersweet. "I always thought I'd have more time to make her smile, to give her the little things that made her happy. But time doesn't wait for anyone. One day, it was just… gone."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Seonghwa felt something tighten in his chest.

The man glanced at him then, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through Seonghwa's carefully built walls. "I don't know what's between you and her, Mr Park. But I do know this: regret is a heavy thing to carry. Don't let it weigh you down, not if you can still do something about it."

He gave Seonghwa a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of lessons learned too late, before taking the bag of purchased items. "Sometimes, all it takes is one step in the right direction. Don't let the chance slip away."

And then he was gone, the bell above the door jingling faintly as father and daughter disappeared into the night.

Seonghwa stood motionless behind the counter, his gaze drifting back to the Kuromi figurine in its glass case. The light reflected off it, casting faint shadows on the shelf behind it. It was meant for you. It had always been for you.

The father's words replayed in his mind, unrelenting in their simplicity and truth. He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on the figurine made just for you, but his thoughts were elsewhere—back to you, back to all the moments that had led to this one.

Back then, he'd convinced himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could find the happiness he didn't think he could give you. He thought he was being selfless, noble even, sacrificing his own heart so you could find someone better—someone who deserved you. But now, the cracks in that logic were glaringly obvious. What had any of this accomplished? Neither of you had found happiness in the way he'd hoped.

The truth was harsh: he hadn't even tried. He hadn't fought to be better for you, to grow into someone worthy of your love. Instead, he'd accepted the version of himself the world seemed to see—a man with dreams too small and ambitions too impractical. He'd let himself believe that you deserved someone like Yunho, someone who fit the mould of what your parents and society thought was 'right.'

But things were different now. He wasn't that man anymore. He'd worked hard, not for anyone else but for himself. Every step he'd taken to build his store, every figurine he'd crafted with his own hands, every small milestone he'd achieved—it was proof that he could create something meaningful. And if he could do that, maybe he could create a life with you.

His heart clenched at the thought of you with Yunho, not because he doubted the man's worth, but because he knew Yunho could never hold your heart the way he still did. Yunho was everything society said you should want—stable, charming, perfect on paper. But love wasn't about paper. Love was about the way you used to light up whenever he showed you his newest creation, about the quiet nights you'd spent talking about everything and nothing, about the way your hand had always felt right in his.

Suddenly, the idea of the 'right person' seemed so absurd. There was no such thing. The right person wasn't someone who ticked all the boxes. The right person was the one you chose to love, again and again, flaws and all.

And you had chosen him once.

The real question now was whether you still would.

He straightened, his resolve hardening like molten metal cooling into steel. What kind of love was it if he could stand by and watch you settle for less than what you deserved? Not less in status or wealth, but less in the kind of happiness that made life worth living. What kind of love let you spend the rest of your days with someone who could never truly make your heart race?

Seonghwa wouldn't let that happen—not if he could help it.

His gaze lingered on the Kuromi figurine one last time before he moved toward the back room. He needed to think, to plan, to figure out how to tell you everything he should have said years ago.

If there was even the slightest chance that you still felt the same way, he would take it. Because this time, he wasn't letting fear or pride or anyone else's expectations get in the way.

This time, he was going to fight for you.

"Well...? Aren't you going to ask me how it went?" you asked, your voice sharp, as you stepped into the house. Your mother flinched, bowing her head slightly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. She hesitated for a moment before coming up to you slowly, her eyes brimming with guilt.

"Yunho called," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said he wishes not to force you."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humour. "Of course, it took an outsider's words for you to finally see how exhausting this has been for me," you said, your tone cutting. "All this talk about marriage, about finding the right man... who is it really for? Who am I doing this for, hm? Is it for my own happiness? Or... oh, right." You smiled grimly. "It never was about my happiness, was it? It was about keeping up appearances, about pleasing everyone but me."

Your mother's face crumpled as her gaze fell to the floor. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken truths.

Your father, who had been sitting silently at the dining table, let out a long, weary sigh. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as though trying to steady himself. "We thought we were doing what was best for you," he said, his voice low, burdened with regret. "We thought... if we guided you toward someone like Yunho, we were ensuring a future where you'd be safe, secure."

"Safe?" you repeated, your voice breaking. "From what? From being myself? From choosing the person who actually makes me happy? You never trusted me to make my own decisions. You never thought I was capable of knowing what I want, what I need."

Your mother reached for your hand, her touch tentative. "It wasn't like that," she said, though her voice wavered. "We were scared. Scared that you'd make a mistake, scared that you'd regret it later, scared that—"

"You mean you were scared," you interrupted, pulling your hand back. "Scared of what people would say. Scared of what the neighbours, the relatives, society would think. But you never stopped to ask me what I thought. What I felt."

Tears glistened in her eyes now, spilling over as she shook her head. "You're right," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're absolutely right. We were selfish. We thought we knew better, but we didn't. We never meant to hurt you, but we see now that we did. We hurt you by not listening, by not trusting you."

Your father stood, his movements deliberate, his face sombre. "If he's the one you want, if he's the one who makes you happy, then we'll support you. No more pushing, no more trying to control your life. It's your choice. It always should've been your choice."

For a moment, the room fell silent. The tension that had loomed for so long finally began to dissipate, leaving behind a tentative sense of relief.

You inhaled shakily, the weight in your chest lifting just a little. It wasn't a perfect resolution—there was still so much to work through—but this was a start. A start you'd been longing for. "Thank you," you said softly, the words fragile but sincere. "Thank you for finally understanding."

And as your mother pulled you into a trembling embrace, you allowed yourself to hope that things could finally change. She smiled softly, brushing a hand against your cheek as if to assure you it was okay now. Your father stood behind her, his expression a mixture of pride and something deeper—perhaps the weight of finally letting go.

They exchanged a glance before your father nodded toward the door. "Go," he said quietly, his voice firm but warm. "Go where your heart tells you to. We'll always be here."

You blinked, stunned by their words, and for a moment, you couldn't move. But then, the weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an urgency that made your pulse race. Without another word, you turned and rushed out, barely remembering to grab your keys on the way.

Your car roared to life as you sped through the streets, your destination clear as day in your mind. Star Mars. The silly name you'd suggested in passing all those years ago, never imagining he'd actually use it. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Would he still want you after all this time? Did it matter? Even if he didn't, you needed him to know. You needed to tell him how you felt—how you still felt.

Parking haphazardly in front of his store, you didn't waste a second before bolting toward it. But as you reached the doors, your heart sank. The store was dark, the lights off, the doors locked. "Closed" hung starkly on the door, though the shops around it buzzed with life.

You froze, staring through the glass, confusion and dread pooling in your stomach. It's not even closing time yet... Had seeing you earlier bothered him that much? Had you pushed him away again, without even realising it?

Slumping against the door, you bit back tears, the overwhelming sense of missed chances clawing at your chest. Sure, you could come back another day. But you'd already lost so much time, wasted so many years pretending you didn't want this, pretending you didn't love him. You didn't want to waste another second.

Your gaze drifted inside the store, scanning the shelves. Your breath caught when you noticed something was missing. The Kuromi figurine—the one you'd lingered on earlier—was gone. You frowned, stepping closer to the glass. It had been there before. Where had it gone?

"Looking for this?"

The familiar voice made you spin around so fast you nearly stumbled. There he was, standing just a few feet away, the Kuromi figurine clutched in his hand, still encased in its protective plastic.

Your breath hitched as tears filled your eyes. "You took her off the shelf?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you took a tentative step toward him. "Where were you planning to take her?"

He smiled softly, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own. "I was going to take her to her rightful owner," he murmured, his voice steady but tender.

Your heart stopped at his words, and you whispered shakily, "Was? So you're not taking her anymore?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Why not?"

He hesitated, the weight of years of longing and regret pressing against his chest. But then, the words of the customer from earlier echoed in his mind. Don't wait until it's too late. He looked at you—really looked at you—and knew, without a doubt, that this moment was the answer he'd been waiting for.

Taking a careful step forward, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing softly against yours. His breath hitched when your fingers instinctively curled around his, holding on as though letting go would shatter everything.

"Because you're already here," he murmured, his voice trembling with unspoken emotion.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, your heart felt whole again. The ache of countless nights spent longing for him, convinced you'd never feel his love again, melted away. Here he was—right in front of you—just like all those years ago. Yet, it felt different now. It felt... right. Because this time, neither of you would let fear or doubt stand in the way. This time, you were both ready to fight for it, to grow, to compromise, and to hold on.

"Hwa, I... I need to tell you something," you began, your voice shaking, each word heavy with the weight of years spent in silence. Your eyes searched his, desperate to convey everything your heart had been screaming in his absence. But before you could say more, he smiled—a small, trembling curve of his lips that held every ounce of love and pain he'd been holding back.

His eyes glistened as he leaned in, his forehead gently meeting yours, grounding you, binding you in a way that no words ever could. The moment felt infinite, a pause in time where your souls met in unspoken understanding.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, raw and honest. Before you could process the words, his lips found yours, soft and warm, carrying all the unspoken promises, all the years of longing, all the love you thought you'd lost.

The world blurred and softened around you—the hum of the street and the glow of the city lights dissolving into nothingness. All that remained was him, the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady warmth of his hands cradling your face, the way his heart seemed to beat in perfect rhythm with yours.

In that kiss, you felt everything: the heartbreak, the yearning, the hope, and, most of all, the love that had endured time, separation, and pain. It was as if every broken piece of your heart was mending, every crack filled with the warmth of his love.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet night. His thumb brushed away a tear you hadn't realised had fallen, his touch tender and sure.

"This time," he murmured, his voice steady but full of emotion, "I'm not letting you go."

And you knew—you both knew—that this time, nothing would keep you apart.

Istg, this wasn't meant to be so long. I wasn't even sure I wanted to give it a happy ending at first, but then I just kept getting carried away and voila. I swear I am working on Yunho's chapter of By Order of the Black Pirates bit by bit hehe just had to get this out of my system first.

As always, thank you for reading and hope y'all liked this one! Do let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

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@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[royalarchivist]

Tubbo just did a Q&A for his newly announced Realm SMP!

Here are some key takeaways and highlights from it:

Tubbo emphasized that the "team" behind Realm is just himself and Tangofrags. It's a chill server so friends have a sandbox to tell stories, do lore, and have fun.

Tubbo: "I just wanna have fun with my friends, dude. I'm not trying to be the big 'bringing communities together guy'. I just wanna play with my friends. That's a lot of pressure." (57m 12s into stream)

These are the initial 25 players, but he plans to add more people in the future, and he already has 5 people in mind to add for the next event.

There is NO mod pack! Realm SMP is vanilla, it's just custom texture packs and plugins.

There are no set DND classes, but people can use their skill points to unlock certain things on skill trees and build their own classes. Realm SMP won't be 100% accurate to DND.

Tubbo hopes to have an event every week, but he reminds people to "manage their expectations" because he's only one guy – he can't do events like Purgatory because he doesn't have a massive team like Quackity had for that.

[ Continued ↓ ]

—

He has a 6 month timeframe in mind, but if the server fizzles out in a month, then it fizzles out in a month. Realm SMP will last as long as people play it!

There's no plans for an in-game translator because it's expensive and also Tubbo "doesn't want to step on Quackity's toes" :(

Lore is dependent on what the people on the server do, he likes more freestyle flowing RP.

There IS a life system! Players have 3 lives, but it's only "semi-hardcore" because other players can craft an item to bring people back at 1 life. When a player dies, their stats are set to 0 and they go into spectator-mode. When they're revived, they are brought back at 1 life with all their stats back.

The Nether IS enabled, but the End isn't enabled yet because Tubbo wants to make a cool custom boss fight.

There's no big team behind the server, it's just Tubbo and Tango helping him with some things he might not understand (however, he has a team he wants to use for the New Year Event he has in mind). He may look into getting some admins to help enforce rules.

Tubbo says he's happy to do anything himself, but if people really want to be an admin, it'd be voluntary like a Twitch mod kind of deal. (He already has a team of people he goes to for admin stuff, it wouldn't be random people being admins). However, he says if his merch does well, maybe he can get 1 or 2 people to help.

Tubbo says he's been overwhelmed by the amount of support it's received so far, but he's a bit nervous too.

He says the Realm SMP concept came to him in a dream.

Realm SMP will have proximity chat.

Events won’t be all PVP-based because he wants people to enjoy the events even if they aren’t a huge Minecraft player.

The only two banned items are mending books and elytra, which will be tied to future events (elytra can be won in one event).

An hour before the server launches on December 5, he'll be showing off more features.

Please note that many details will likely change / be clarified / updated by Tubbo at a later date!

Check out this post for the rest of his Q&A and more details.

[virelia]

YOU'RE MARRIED WITH WHO!?

ੈ✩ pairing: Solomon x Female!reader

ੈ✩ summary: Even though you were married to Solomon it was a big secret. But what secret is kept to the grave?

ੈ✩ wc: 628

ੈ✩ warning(s): pet names {darling}

Being married to Solomon was... something. You two were married even before the exchange program, but because of Solomon's many "enemies," you both agreed to keep it a secret. The only thing that connected you was your hearts and a pair of matching rings. They weren’t anything big or elegant, but they were special because Solomon made them himself, so they were very unique. You never thought something as little as that would expose you, but one day, something happened...

"M/C, you should let me paint your nails!! I just got a new nail polish, so I want to test it out," said Asmo while clinging to your waist from behind. You just wanted to get some snacks from the kitchen after a tiring day, but here you were with a clingy Asmo, and you didn’t want to be rude.

"Sure, but you have to make it quick, alright?"

Upon hearing this, without saying anything, Asmo let go of you and grabbed your hand to guide both of you to his room. As you sat on his bed, you remembered to take off your ring so Asmo could work a little more comfortably. But before you could take it off, Asmo appeared out of nowhere and grabbed your hand.

"Oh! What a cool ring you have," he smirked, before smiling for a moment. "Eh? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this somewhere." After inspecting the ring for a while, his face lit up. "I know where I saw this! Solomon has the exact same one!!"

Your eyes widened, and you started to sweat. "But it’s probably a coincidence," you said quickly, but Asmo let go of your hand to look at your face. The moment he saw your expression, he smirked.

"Oh? Do you guys have something going on, hm?" he started to tease.

"Oh, uhm... no?" After your awkward response, you mentally face-palmed yourself.

"So, uh, can I see the nail polish?" you tried to change the subject, but it only made him smirk more.

"I see, I see. So, you guys are dating then?" he continued. "What a shame, I wanted t—"

He was cut off by your fast response. "We are married, actually."

His eyes widened. "WHAT!? I mean, it was pretty suspicious that you guys knew each other even before you came Devildom and were always together, but MARRIED?! HOW DID I NOT NOTICE EARLIER?!!"

You awkwardly tried to calm the beautiful man down. "Asmo, calm down, everyone is going to hear yo—"

"M/C AND SOLOMON ARE WHAT?!"

When you and the Avatar of Lust turned your heads and looked through the door, you saw wide-eyed Mammon and Levi.

"I- uhmm—"

While Mammon was staring at you, Levi took out his D.D.D. and started typing something.

"M/C and Solomon have been married all along LOLOLOLOL," he typed, pressing 'send.'

All you could do was stare at Levi with wide eyes. "Levi, you didn’t really send it, right? RIGHT!?"

Before Levi could respond, your D.D.D. started to buzz with lots of calls/messages from the other brothers, and you got your answer. It was going to be a long night for you, huh?

At midnight in the Purgatory Hall...

"Solomooonn," you said with a crying voice, hugging Solomon from behind. He startled because of the sudden contact but quickly returned to normal.

"What happened, darling?" he said in a calm voice, turning to face you.

You explained what happened, and for a split second, his eyes widened before returning to normal (he hadn’t heard anything because he was "cooking" all day). He chuckled.

"Don’t worry. It was bound to happen anyway," he said, kissing the top of your head. "Now now, I can finally show everyone how good a wife you are."

God, he loved you so much.

@virelia

[oscconfessions]

the ii-confessionlings

I've been observing this growing population of ii related confession blogs, and it is truly fascinating. I love it. Here are all the ones I am aware of at the moment.

The Lovers:

@iiposblog - Positive confessions blog! YOU STARTED THIS

@ii-peak-confessions - Proton of the atom trio. Very positive.

@ii-joyous-confessions - Joy!!!!

The Haters:

@ii-evil-confessions - Electron of the atom trio. Very evil.

‎

The Neutrals:

@ii-neutral-confessions - Neutron of the atom trio. Very neutral.

@ii-neu-confessions - Another neutral confession blog. /neu

@ii-neutral-poster - Not really a confession blog, but still makes the list. This is really getting out of hand /neu

@ii-nothing-confessions -

The Religious:

@ii-holy-confessions - Confessions of the holy variety.

@ii-satanic-confessions - Confessions that do not make that holy mark.

@ii-purgatory-confessions - We're not quite holy yet!

The NSFW:

@ii-freaky-confessions - NSFW. Not a joke blog.

@ii-downright-devious-confessions - NSFW. Joke blog.

The Character Specific:

@ii-apple-confessions - appel

@ii-nick-le-confessions - nick le???????????

@ii-zoetrope-spinning-confessions - every confession spins his head more.

@ii-mephone3gs-confessions - it's so good to see you!

@ii-meeple-confessions - all meeple stuff!

@ii-fan-confessions - fan

@ii-box-confessions - box

@cheesy-confessions - cheese

@ii-stevecobs-confesssions - i fucking hate this corn

@ii-trophy-confessions - tropy

@ii-tissues-confessions - tisue

@ii-mephonex-confessions - did you hear that?

@ii-mic-confessions - michael phone

@ii-lightbulb-confessions - log by bulb

@iipepperconfessions - pepre

Wait, This Isn't II:

@osc-plurals-confessions - General OSC confession blog related to plurality!

@ii-confessio-wait-wrong-show - bfdi.

@obscure-object-show-confessions - Obscure object shows!

@obscure-osc-confessions - If you want to send an ask to one of these blogs I want you to send it to both of them. it would be a really funny prank.

All About Emotions:

@iisadconfessions - i miss mepad. i miss him a lot

@ii-hungry-confessions - for when youre hungry and an ii fan!

@ii-confusing-confessions - In case you're perplexed, which i bet you are.

@ii-jolly-confessions - Christmas may be over but that hasn't stopped anyone before!

The Animals:

@ii-meow-confessions - who let a cat loose in the ii tag!!!!!!

@ii-woof-confessions - who let a dog loose in the ii tag!!!!!!

@ii-fish-confessions - blub blub

The Fandom Related:

@ii-ship-confessions - Ships! I know you guys have LOT to say on those. Maybe even too much!

@ii-crossover-confessions - tired of just ii? start mixing other stuff in with it!

@ii-darkfic-confessions - for confessions about the dark, gorey fics about characters getting murdered and the likes!

@ii-oc-and-fanfic-confessions - what if ii was your own thing? Get transformative!

@ii-headcanon-confessions - For the little bits we like to add on in our heads.

And all the others:

@iii-confessions - confessions about ii's most controversial season!

@ii-queer-confessions - gay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@ii-gay-confessions - payjay more like payGAY. more like GAYGAY. gayjay

@ii-therapy-confessions - please

@ii-brainrot-confessions - lord almighty...

@ii-confession-confessions - confessions about the confession blogs. we're gonna need it after all this

@ii-silly-confessions - Get silly!

@ii-stupid-confessions - Get stupid!

@ii-dementia-confessions - ??????

the ii fandom is having a really normal time after that finale, huh.

Please tell me if I'm missing anyone! -🫒 (@knightobreath)