#romance is DEAD but god do i hope for it to exist

[allthepandasintheworld]

good omens reference and also, halsin is HUGE ok, in game, rene literally only comes up to his shoulder

im assuming body type 2 for drow are around 6ft but i dont think(?) they are(?) HOWEVER. elves are canonically on average 6ft tall, and halsin is considered abnormally tall for an elf, which can only mean he's 7ft at least, in this essay i--

[radgeorgie]

just another night of crying my loneliness into physical existence

[bvidzsoo]

Cosmically divine

☆ Synopsis: Olympus, the place where Gods play pretend and do as they wish. Dion, the place where mere mortals suffer and do as the Gods wish. One might wonder, is life ever fair? ★ 

☆ Author: bvidzsoo ★ 

☆ Pairing: Ateez members x female reader ★ 

☆ Rating: nsfw, 18+ ★ 

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, dark romance, violence, smut, gore

☆ Status: on-going ★ 

☆ 1. Choi San x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Underwater ◖Ares x Naiad Nymph!au◗ 

Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ 2. Kang Yeosang x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Marionette ◖Aphrodite!au◗ 

Summary: Doomed from the beginning, your mother, Hera, only saw a weapon in you. If you had once thought she loved you, she proved you wrong the second she cast you away once you failed to kill her enemy's son. Yeosang, Aphrodite's dearest and most prized offspring.

☆ 3. Kim Hongjoong x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Color of love ◖Hermes x Iris!au◗ 

Summary: If there was a God everyone feared, perhaps it was Zeus. After the continuous abuse he's put you through, you never thought you'd get to live your eternal life peacefully. That is, until the messenger God shows up and whisks you away before Zeus can see and stop him.

☆ 4. Jung Wooyoung x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Kingdom come ◖Oread Nymph x Dryad Nymph!au◗ 

Summary: Nymphs were nothing but deities that preserved nature and allowed the Gods to love them in return for their blessings. And when Zeus lurks around, you are labelled as his, never to be touched by anyone in the whole cosmos. But can you help yourself when the man he claims is Wooyoung himself? The gorgeous and warm-hearted Oread that coincidentally returns your forbidden feelings for him?

☆ 5. Song Mingi x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Dead man running ◖Hades!au◗ 

Summary: You were cursed, at least that's what your family thought about you. After a while, you started believing it too, the shadows that whispered to you convincing you that you were either crazy or just...different. And maybe you were, after all, the God of death himself, wouldn't have just called you his little shadow without a reason, right?

☆ 6. Choi Jongho x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Nightmare ◖Phobos!au◗ 

Summary: Coming from a family that thrived under pressure and mayhem, it was only a matter of time until your father allowed you to join him on the battlefield. But perhaps what set you apart from other warrior families was the fact that each one of you worshiped a God of war. You just happened to make the mistake of offering yourself up to one in exchange for your dear sibling's life.

☆ 7. Jeong Yunho x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　One Kiss ◖Atë!au◗ 

Summary: Cast out of Olympus because Zeus has had enough of the mayhem and craze you created amongst men, living and meddling with mortals changed nothing. You thrived off of stupid men falling to their knees and begging you for attention, promising things no mortal could offer. But when a pure, untouched, and unassuming boy might just fall into your trap, you can't help yourself and entice him just to the point of madness.

☆ 8. Park Seonghwa x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Moonlight Melody ◖Poseidon!au◗ 

Summary: You always thought the man of your dreams never existed, would never come and whisk you away from this terrible terrible life that you lived. And perhaps when he starts showing up in your dreams, with promises that he'd soon come and see you, you find yourself hoping for a love that only the stars would bear witness to.

☆ A/N: Hello, my lovelies, I am here with a new story, can you believe it?! Because I can't lol, this wasn't supposed to exist but I thought...why not? Updates won't be too frequent, probably, as I have got quite a few others things to write, but I can't wait for you all to see what I have planned here! ^^ These stories won't be too dark, but I felt it necessary to mention dark romance as we're still dealing with some ambiguous topics. Taglist, as usual, is open and you are all very welcomed to comment on this post if you'd like to be added! Thank you for showing love, support, and interest in my works on here, they mean the world to me! <3 divider ★ 

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[rise-deepseamonster]

I don't think any season will affect me as deeply as Bridgerton S2.

Ever experience that Anthony and Kate have with their family is a direct reflection of an older sibling's struggles to keep everyone together with only one parent half present, taking on the major part of the responsibility as the head of the house.

Starting with the scene where Edmund dies in Anthony and Violet's arms. It's a clear start of the divide between Anthony and his siblings in terms of being classified as "children". Violet tells him to keep the "other children" from not witnessing what he just witnessed, him having to take charge while he watches his only remaining parent fall apart in despair and anguish. Him begging her to get more involved with the rest of his siblings because he is so scared he is going to mess things up, so scared because he is not his mother and he is not his father. I wonder how many dinners he sat with the rest of his siblings after his mother refused to eat with them and made small talk with his siblings or sat in awkward silence. I wonder how long it took for him to master the small talk and eventually learn everything his siblings were up to so that he can talk to them about it and work in the shadows to make things better (like he thought he was doing with Benedict and the art school). All while trying to encourage his mother, listening to her wish that the baby had done her the kindness of killing her so that she could be with her husband. Watching his expression during that scene was particularly brutal:

Clearly trying to hang on by a thread as he listens to his mother's suicidal wishes and hope he will have a parent that lives to the next day so he wouldn't have to witness death and wouldn't have to be the only parent left for his siblings, because god help him, I knew he thought he was failing them by just existing and not being his father.

Then the birth of Hyacinth.

When he is asked of an impossible choice between his new family, his to-be sibling and his own mother, his parent, the only person left who is supposed to take care of him. He is not ready to see another parent die in front of him. But he sees his mother begging for her husband, begging for a choice in the matter, driven by pain and grief and sees the doctor calmly ignoring it and asking him. What does he know? He is a child, as his mother says. He wants his father too. He should also be in one of the rooms with his siblings, maybe soothing them and listening to Daphne sing instead of being demanded a choice of lives. He wants his mother to live another day because he cannot fathom the responsibility and the loss he will have to handle otherwise. He wants to demand that they save the mother, you can see it in his eyes but as he sees her begging for the choice, he makes the only one that he hopes his father would approve of.

And thus begins his lifetime of choices that he hopes would be in the interest of everyone else, that he hopes his father would approve of. All while secretly believing that his family hates him for the mistakes he makes as a young, inexperienced man taking all the responsibilities prematurely. And make mistakes he does! Because he lives by a set of rules he hopes the mirage of his dead father might follow, he cannot see that his other siblings are capable and allowed to make their own choices as well (yes yes regency era meant no choices for women but whatever) and constantly made terrible choices for Daphne's personal life in the interest of "protecting" her.

Similar mistakes from Kate. (god what is it about older siblings wanting to do whatever it takes to give what THEY perceive as the best to their siblings?)

She lies and hides and manages Edwina's entire interaction with everyone in the hopes that her sister will be encouraged only into the most wonderful perfect whirlwind of a romance to the best man alive, only to completely neglect and pretty much gaslight her views onto her sister.

This sentiment? Let me just break it down (from my perspective, there can be many different views and any and/or all may be true including that this is just the way Edwina's personality is): Kate wants Edwina to pursue love, to pursue the match of her wants by choosing the best, the brightest, the smartest, the most charming, etc. Because Kate always tells her that thats what she deserves, and its true, she does deserve the best (well, the best for her that is). You see, when you narrow people down to "selecting the best, being the best" etc, you end up making people think that because they are considered the best by the general population (the season's diamond and most eligible bachelor) that they are destined to be together, to make a stunning, powerful match. Edwina is never given a chance to even understand what best truly means for her and what she deserves (and obviously Anthony never thinks about it lol) and is enamored by getting the best of the best. Why? Is it some sort of ego that's fed to her by Kate? The opposite really. It is her own version of trying to show her family that she can excel at things and make them proud. Which is why when she inevitably fails, she somehow thinks she could've done better to please him and treats the whole thing as a test to her as a person, the person her sister had (in Edwina's mind) worked so hard to cultivate and educate to be the best of the best. And in a society where her worth is determined by her husband, if she didn't get the best of the best man, was she really living up to the work that was put into her?

"You have choices"

Ngl, that line is probably something she deep down wishes she had in some recess of her subconscious mind or smtg. It is only because Kate is actually there for Edwina emotionally that Edwina doesn't become a complete people pleaser (though lets be clear, she is definitely one, literally changes like a chameleon to fit everyone's likes. Ain't no one that well liked and Daphne clocked that early on).

I am not saying I hate older siblings and that they are the worst controlling beings on the planet. I am myself an older sibling. Actually I think because I'm an older sibling, it makes me even more horrified when I watch the season because I can clearly see the mistakes they are committing even as I know I would do the same in their case. I understand the pain and desperation that drives them, the self-loathing, the mindset that we must deny ourselves any sort of happiness and pleasure because concentrating on ourselves mean that we are neglecting everyone else. The armor we put on to seem the strongest, the meanest, the one who would throw the first punch after an insult flung at their family, the last one to step down from a fight all for our family, all in the name of family.

These two? They would lay down their lives for their siblings. If asked, they would sacrifice themselves with dark magic so that their siblings would never know the pain of a pin prick. Because they know pain and they never want their siblings to feel it. And so they control and manage and make sure everything goes the way they need it to, the way, the only way that their family can be safe and happy. All while they deny themselves the same painless happiness.

Anthony literally refused to fall in love so that he would never have to put his siblings through the kind of pain he went through as he saw his mother sit numbly for months after his father's death, barely existing through everyday. Kate barely viewed herself as Lady Sharma's daughter because she put both her and Edwina on such a high pedestal and stood guard at the bottom of it.

Both of them, oldest siblings resigning and steeling themselves and reassuring themselves that this is what they deserve, this is the price to be paid for the happiness of their family. Then resigning themselves to a life of loneliness, all while their family looks on at them with the greatest pity because they cannot understand for the life of them why their protectors, their loved ones, their older brother/sister would put themselves through things that obviously made them miserable.

And as it does, their pity will turn to frustration and if unchecked, to resentment or bitterness. Secrets and lies and controlling behaviors always come with a cost, no matter the intention. But not only that; What most oldest siblings forget is that everyone needs a role model to look up to and usually people find it in their siblings, their parents or someone else in the family that they know well. With the walls you've erected, they barely know you at all. And what you do display is only misery and burden. I cannot stress how much it pains them to see that in the people they love and how much it affects them.

So anyway, to older siblings out there. Prioritize yourselves. It is literally better for your siblings if you do. Love them, protect them but also teach them through example to make their own choices in life and be stable and happy yourself.

Also do you think he wanted to scream during this scene? Because personally I would've told her "OFC. OFC lilacs were his favorite. Because I was there when he died picking lilac/violet flowers for his wife named Violet, YEAH I fucking KNEW."

His mother telling him that she knew what he wanted and that he wanted love was probably the final testament to how little his family knew him. He was probably incredulous at the thought of his family wanting him to find love. Why tf would they think he wants that??

Why would he want love when it was the very same thing that ruined his mother after his father's death? The same thing that had left her so broken and numb that he had to be awake and pick up the pieces of his family as he could not afford to do the same.

The pain that parents inflict through their own grief/rage etc are things that really leave a lasting impact on the kids huh?

Also yes, I did cry when Lady Sharma told Kate that she always viewed her as a daughter and she was never an outsider to the family because she WAS family, man that shit had me bawling. Nothing ever prepares me for the loneliness of dealing with the consequences of "doing what you think is best" when it comes to other's lives.

Sorry for how all over the place this rant is. Tell me if I missed anything and what all older sibling behavior yall do and how called out this shit made u feel.

[cuubism]

I’m BEGGING for more “retired!Dream opens up a weird magic fey bookshop” au. Its so intriguing!

you are in luck. i wrote more

--

"So," Hob says, leaning in the doorway of Dream's study-of-sorts, "much as I love the recommendations, do you mind if I browse?"

He's taken, recently, to meeting Dream on the upper floor of the shop, bringing coffee and watching Dream label and sort his new books in incomprehensible categories. He usually gets some interesting book facts out of it, too, or strange little stories -- "this book washed up on the Sardinian shore some years ago", "this was signed by a long-dead author, I've been curious to see how long it will take for a collector to find it," "an old man bestowed this upon me on the eve of his death, it's the only copy in existence" and so on -- not to mention the pleasure of Dream's company. He is so odd, and so engaging.

Dream looks up at him now with a tiny smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes. "Of course. Find whatever you wish."

Hob has been wondering if Dream's serendipitous knack with books will extend to browsing, to random finds. Only one way to know.

He leaves Dream to his labeling and goes to wander the shop.

This time, he does get swallowed in Oneiromancy, where he finds Sleeping Worlds, a book about dream travel. Then he wanders deeper into the shop, passes categories like, "Cat Training," CLOCKS, "Mathematics: Easy -> Impossible", and, "♾". Of course he goes into Infinity, and picks up The Birth of Numbers, a book whose text starts in the center of the page and spirals outwards, font growing larger as the book goes on, and in another section called "Romance: DIFFICULT LEVEL" -- whatever the hell difficult means -- he picks up a tiny book that's just one line, one syllable on each page.

I

on

ly

want

ed

you

to

see.

God, Dream's shop is weird.

Dream finds him there some time later, deep in Sleeping Worlds. "I see you've had a productive day."

"Yeah, sorry, lost track of time."

Dream keeps looking at him with a little smirk.

Worry darts through Hob's stomach. "Wait, what time is it?"

"Midnight," says Dream, with satisfaction. "I've absorbed you."

Yeah, no kidding. Hob scrambles to his feet. "Jesus, Dream, sorry. I'll get out of your hair."

"No matter. This is what The Library is for."

Hob goes to hand him the books, and he waves a hand. "Keep them, I will get them back eventually."

Ominous. Great.

"Gonna break into my house and retrieve them?" Hob asks. He probably wouldn't even mind, to be honest.

"Nothing so alarming." He gestures Hob forward, and Hob follows, lets Dream walk him out.

It is, indeed, pitch dark outside on their shared street. Hob's supposed to open the cafe at 6. Whoops.

"Thanks for the books, Dream," he says. "And for. Ten hours of distraction, apparently."

Dream leans in the narrow doorway of his shop. "Of course. Come browse... anytime."

And he melts back into the shadows as Hob steps down onto the street.

--

Hob wonders if he's an idiot for wanting to ask Dream out. Dream is clearly some kind of other thing, and hanging around him did kind of get Hob cursed. But the way he bites his lip when he's making notes in books is so cute. His unerring ability to make perfect book selections is both strange and endearing -- even the books Hob had picked up on his own had been exactly what he hadn't known he was looking for. Hob's heart picks up every time he steps into the cafe.

But if he's to ask out Dream, his own personal weird bookshop creature, he has to do it right.

And he knows how.

The next time Dream comes in for coffee, Hob sits down across from him and hands him a book. Dream looks at it in surprise, and Hob has the sudden thought that as the all-powerful selector of tomes, he probably isn't gifted books himself.

The book is called, Broken Hands. Hob had pulled it off his own shelf. Dream doesn't ask him what it is, instead he flips open the cover and reads, as Hob had hoped he would.

The first page of Broken Hands has the following paragraph:

Kissing her hand, he came to know himself. Kissing her mouth, he came to know them both. When they went onward, for now only in his mind, he kissed more of her, and more, and more, and then, he knew her. He wanted to know her.

Dream reads it, and looks back up at him. Offers a tiny smile. Yes, Hob knew he would get it.

"You have something you would like to ask me, Hob Gadling?" he says softly.

"You have something you want to answer?"

Dream takes a long sip of his coffee, but looks at Hob over the rim of the mug, a smile in his eyes. Then he swipes away the milk foam from his upper lip with his tongue and says, "I'd say that you are very foolish, to still wish to associate with someone who did, in a sense, get you cursed. But that I find myself grateful for this foolishness. People do often come back to the library, once they find it-- but they don't often come back for me."

It makes Hob sad to imagine--Dream the perennial custodian of The Library, shepherd of its patrons, gifting small touches of coincidence and magic, but always in the background, a bridge and not a destination. Meanwhile, Hob likes the strange books, but it's Dream he keeps wanting to hover around, to lure back into his own space.

He dares to take Dream's hand and squeezes. "...So?"

"I'd say that I'd like to get coffee with you, if you know a place."

Cheeky thing. "Yeah, there's a Starbucks a couple blocks down," Hob says, gesturing, and Dream chuckles. Hob's still holding his hand, and brings it to his lips for a light kiss, and gets to watch as Dream's cheeks tint pink. His heart lifts in his chest. So easy and light.

"You're gorgeous," he says, and that blush deepens. "I'd suffer even Starbucks for you."

"You would suffer much, then," says Dream.

"We'll get our Starbucks and wander around WHSmith and have a fabulous date," Hob says, and Dream's face goes through the most exquisite journey of horror.

"You demand too much," he says, faint. "You enjoy my suffering."

"Little bit, yeah." Hob's certainly enjoying the reaction.

Then Dream looks at him in challenge. "Very well," he declares. "You've set the date. Now you must follow through."

Hob can't even spare a thought to the distasteful activities he's now gotten himself into--he has a date with Dream. "So that's a yes?"

Dream smiles again, a tiny, pleased thing. "It is a yes, Hob Gadling."

--

They do go to Starbucks. Hob is treated to the glorious sight of Dream sipping a pink drink out of a long straw, which is so worth dealing with the coffee. Then he indeed drags Dream to WHSmith, where Dream stands in the middle of the brightly-lit store, spins in a circle staring at carefully lined book displays with wide eyes, says, "Hell would be more merciful," and bolts away. Hob follows him, laughing.

Outside, he finds Dream leaning in the shade of a tree, looking vaguely shell-shocked. Hob really shouldn't keep laughing at him, but he can't help it. "Were you traumatized permanently by the big chain store?"

"Yes," says Dream, but, despite the perilous adventure, smiles. "You are a cruel man, Hob Gadling."

"Nah. Just harnessed the fluorescent lighting to chase you back into the safety of my arms."

"Oh?" Dream pushes off the tree and steps closer, until he's standing just before Hob, close enough to touch. "Was that the goal?"

Hob takes the leap that's offered and touches Dream's cheek with a light hand. "Did it work?"

This close, in the midday light, Dream's eyes are almost grey. The shade of the tree dapples his skin. It's still odd to see him out of the contained space of his bookshop, of Hob's cafe, but it does make this feel more real. A part of the world beyond the spun-sugar story of their orbiting binary stars.

Dream rests a feather light hand on Hob's chest. Studies Hob from under his eyelashes. And instead of answering, he leans up and, with that same light touch, presses his lips to Hob's.

Hob revels in the mere touch of him for a moment, but doesn't let it stand at light for long. He takes Dream's face between his hands and deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Dream's mouth, swallowing Dream's hum of pleasure. If only he could put into the kiss what he had felt when Dream had handed him Nightingales. A sudden finding of something long lost that was always meant to be rooted in his heart.

When they part, he makes good on a promise and does pull Dream into his arms. It feels like a great indulgence. It also feels right.

"Make me a solemn promise, Hob Gadling," Dream says against Hob's cheek, arms wrapped around his back.

"Anything."

"Never take me here ever again."

Hob laughs into his hair, squeezing him tight. "What could one possibly want from here when The Library exists?"

This seems to greatly gratify Dream, who preens in Hob's arms. Hob kisses the shell of his ear, then his cheek, then they part again, and he takes Dream's hand. "I'm glad you expanded your horizons with me for a day."

"And now I will shrink them again," says Dream. "Except for one." To which he runs his thumb along Hob's lower lip, a touch Hob sways forward to follow almost drunkenly as Dream smirks. "Come."

He starts leading Hob back in the direction of their quiet street, and far far away from any fluorescent lighting, and Hob follows, touching his lips fondly. And lets himself be cautiously, tentatively hopeful that this will continue spiraling up into something real, because he wants it so bad. Curses and all.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 25 Perpetuity

(Spoilers for the end of Endwalker's Myths of the Realm)

Aeryn stood in Omphalos and watched the engine work. Its motions were hypnotic as it circled around itself, drawing in hopes and prayers, and dispersing that energy back into the world to aid humanity. A device of akasha and aether, elegant and lovely.

A familiar step sounded on the stone behind her, accompanied by the equally familiar pitter-patter of smaller feet, making her smile and hold out a hand to let the tiny opo-opo leap up and scramble up her arm to give her a friendly nuzzle.

“No treats, no matter how the little fellow begs,” Deryk said lightly. “He’s coming off a bout of upset stomach.”

“Poor baby,” Aeryn cooed, leaning her head against the creature, who chirred against her neck.

The wanderer stopped next to her, also looking up at the instrument of blessing. The collaborative work of ages, she was never sure he was aware of the slight smile and melancholic light in his eyes when he gazed upon it.

“So,” he said. “We meet here yet again. And again I ask: come to a conclusion yet?”

“No,” Aeryn replied, as shaking her head would dislodge the opo-opo, who was now playing with her hair. “When you first brought us here, and revealed the Twelve and their heavens, I’d hoped to find some answer. But it seemed more of the same. Divinity is just a construct of man, formed in desperation and empowered by prayer.”

Deryk nodded. “I can say there is a world of difference between what I was, and who I am now.”

“That’s a matter of power scale, which can be overcome.”

“In part, certainly,” he agreed. “But it’s more than that.” He looked aside, his gaze falling on the gate to the Heaven of Wind. “Sometimes the memories seem more like dreams, and too much for my fragile mortal mind. The time is incomprehensible—and that’s even before taking into account the man whose soul inspired Oschon’s existence.” He turned to Aeryn again. “Am I still not real, merely a construct?”

“Of course you’re real. And so was Oschon. Just born of humanity, like anyone else.”

“Hydaelyn created the Twelve,” he reminded her.

“From the energies of Her comrades. To perform roles and duties for which mankind worshiped them for, and in so doing, altered irrevocably.” She sighed. “And my feelings on Hydaelyn—on Venat—are likewise still complicated.”

“I understand that,” Deryk agreed. “I did not feel so before, but now? It’s a strange thing indeed. I’m not the man who aided in Hydaelyn’s creation; he is long dead, his aether given to form Hers, a fragment of his remnant soul used to create that which men called Oschon. Me, with an omnipresent view and ability to stride across this world we so loved as either the concept of wind, or in this form.” He gestured to his body. “I sometimes wonder if we took on avatars because some part of us yet remembered and yearned to be mortal again.”

“I’m certain I met Nymeia and Althyk’s original selves in Elpis,” Aeryn said, scratching under the opo-opo’s chin. “I helped with creations they were evaluating, and described the rite of flowers for the departed when some creatures were lost in an accident with others. There was familiarity in their divine personas, but they didn’t remember. Not really.”

“Yet they never lost sight of who they were to one another,” Deryk said, that sad smile on his face again. “They never struggled with it, unlike Menphina and myself.”

Aeryn raised a questioning brow.

“Of course I loved her—who didn’t?” he laughed. “In our first life, she was a brilliant young woman, and it was no wonder her divine self became who she was, and set to the tasks Hydaelyn chose. And we cared for one another, as we Twelve were family in our way. But was any romance our own, or determined by the prayers of man?” he shrugged. “Divinity is malleable.”

“That’s one of the things I struggle with,” Aeryn said. “Should it be, or shouldn’t gods be set, in order to form and order the world, and guide their creations and humanity? Shouldn’t they be...something beyond man? Not just in power, but in origin as well?”

“The more we discuss this, what it feels like you most resent is the loss of unknowing,” Deryk replied. “That you feel faith must include the question of origin.”

Aeryn mulled that over for a moment. “That would be part of taking it on faith, wouldn’t it? Of deciding to give trust based on a hope there’s something more to guide the way.” She looked up at the instrument of blessing again. “But I know so much of the origins of our world, of the divinities, and how and why they came to be. I know what can be manifested with enough aether, but warped by those requests.” The opo-opo chirred as her shoulders slumped.

“And you know too well what has been lost—in most cases, by your own hand.”

She winced at that. “On request.”

“Who else could be trusted? Not just in power, but on...faith.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“It goes both ways, you know,” he said mildly. “Even if I know your origins—born of man, with dragon’s blood running in your veins, raised outside this land where we held the most sway, but rising in it to become the one who could learn the truth, see it clearly, and grant us our greatest desire.” He gestured to the engine swirling above them. “And now we have laid down our burdens, while ensuring our duty is secured forevermore. Because we believed in you—as She did.”

Aeryn frowned. “That’s not the same as faith in divinity.”

“Isn’t it?”

[michiviv]

comfortember, prompt: leaves changing, books

pairing: timeskip! akaashi keiji x gn! reader

sypnosis: akaashi falls in love with the owner of the bookstore along the season.

warning: akaashi calls reader pretty, idk if anything else

notes: slow burn is a joke

word count: 1148

When you officially take over the story the leaves were still green. They framed the shop so perfectly it seemed quaint, homey even. The leaves were still green when you met him for the first time.

By him, I mean the man you'd be silently admiring for months, exchanging few words here and there. He was just so pretty… although he always wore a slightly-exasperated expression as he skimmed through the rows of books. He always made an effort to go through the entire store (it wasn’t much, but he still did), however he always remained near the manga section. Skimming through manga, mostly shonen.

Was he a shonen fan? Did he only read shonen or did he branch out?

Sometimes, when you were tending the counter, he would buy himself a volume and order himself some coffee before sitting on one of the tables facing the counter. The steam from the coffee often fogging up his glasses, which made you giggle as he wiped them. It was a slightly endearing sight. If it wasn't manga, it was a sports magazine, however you would only catch him reading the MSBY section.

You honestly felt like a creep, picking up on his habits. He only came once a week yet somehow you knew all of his reading habits but not his name.

Akaashi was the same too however. He knew your habits, always greeting him with a smile. You always drew animals as your latte art, you drew him a swan once. On your breaks you read romance novels, he saw you pick up a manga once but he didn’t know what you were reading.

Did you read obscure mangas? Like maybe Kiss of the Rose Princess? He didn’t catch anything he personally edited so he assumed you didn’t read much shonen. He had attempted to talk to you, maybe suggest one he had edited but every time he had tried someone wanted coffee. It was his curse.

slowly, overtime the leaves started to grow yellow and the weather slightly chiller. You stared off, outside the window. Thinking of anything you possibly could’ve. Books, rent, taxes, the pretty boy…

“What stage is your favorite?” A voice spoke, it was calm and kind of monotonous. You turned to look at the source and there he was- the man you were just thinking about. maybe you summoned him into exists, “of the leaves, i mean.”

“hm, i don’t think i have one.” you murmured, turning to look at the leaves. you imagined the shift from green to yellow to red to brown. “do you have one…” you trailed off, hoping he’d give you his name.

“akaashi, akaashi keiji.” he introduced himself with a small nod, “i think i like them when they’re green. it’s normal but it’s nice… it’s just right.”

finally you knew his name and it was just perfect. such a pretty name for a pretty boy, you made sure you would **never** forget it. you began to write down notes on his cup, silly little words of encouragement and drawings. one day it’s a cat and the next it’s a pig, he’d never know.

some nights when he came near closing, you’d stay hours just talking with him and learning about each other.

“what were you like in high school?l” you asked him, scrubbing the expresso machine.

“me?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly in surprise before he smiled a little bit to himself. gods, you’d kill for that smile. “i was vice and eventually captain of the volleyball team.”

you gasped a little, listening to his revelation. he didn’t seem like the type to be one of those jock volleyball players, “really? you’re joking.”

akaashi chuckled and shook his head, “dead serious. we competed in the tokyo nationals and my best friend is now a member of the black jackals.”

“that’s amazing, akaashi! show me, who is it?” you asked him, eager to know about his past.

akaashi sought out a sports magazine and brought up a team picture of the team, and started pointing out all of the players he knew and/or played with. in total he had previously met 4 people, bokuto, atsumu, hinata and sakusa. when he pointed out that bokuto was his best friend i could help but let out a ‘damn!’ that guy was ripped!

“you’re telling me— the buff guy is your best friend?” you asked him, sort of in disbelief.

“yes,” he replied, amused, “what? don’t believe me?”

“no, yes… i mean- you two are quite distinct. i can’t imagine you two talking in high school.”

“he was something..” he said with a dramatic sigh, causing both of you to laugh.

as the leaves continued to change, he began coming more often, and maybe his comments became flirtier. you two held contact for a while, began walking around the block together ‘accidentally’ brushing hands. neither of you backed off, yet neither of you took action. which was starting to piss you off.

why couldn’t you just do it. why couldn’t you just hold his hand or ask him out on a date. not that you haven’t tried, the words just get stuck on your throat and you end up asking him to have a walk with you or you offer him a cup of coffee for the cooling weather.

as you berates yourself while decompressing the coffee machine, akaashi walked in. he sauntered over with his hands behind his back. you looked up at him and smiled, “hey, akaashi. how was work?”

akaashi hummed as he pondered a response, “it was alright. work is work.” he started, pausing. he took enough time pondering his response that you had stopped what you were doing and completely turned to look at him; giving him your undivided attention.

“listen, i…” he took another deep breath before looking at you seriously. although his face was serious you could see the uncertainty and nervousness shift in his eyes, “i’ve been interested in you for a while. you’re pretty, you’re smart, you make me feel so happy and alive— basically, what i want to say is that I want to take you out on a date.” he finally confessed, pulling his hand from his back and revealing a bouquet of flowers.

your face had flushed red long before he finished his confession, slowly you took the bouquet of flowers, the grin that slowly grew on your face practically cementing itself there. “akaashi, i-“

“only if you’ll have me.”

“right,” you chuckled, “well, i would love to. these flowers are beautiful.”

“how about tomorrow night… at 7?” he asked, you could see the tips of his ears turning pink as he fidgeted with his fingers, “i’ll pick you up.”

“that sounds perfect.” you reassured him, leaning over the counter to plant a kiss on his cheek.

finally, the leaves had turned red… and they were your favorite.

[daitranscripts]

Solas Cutscene: What Pride Had Wrought

Forgive My Melancholy

Solas Masterpost Related Quest: What Pride Had Wrought

The PC speaks to Solas in the rotunda.

Choice dependent dialogue:

PC drank (romanced/high/neutral approval) [1]

PC drank (low approval) [2]

Morrigan drank [3]

1 - PC drank (romanced/high approval)

PC drank, Solas was at the Temple: Solas (romance): I begged you not to drink from the Well. Why could you not have listened? Solas: Why did you do it? I warned you not to. PC: Solas… [4]

PC drank, Solas was not at the Temple: Solas (romance): Why did you not bring me to the Temple of Mythal? I could have warned you. Solas: I wish I had been with you at the Temple of Mythal. I could have warned you. PC: Warned me? [4]

4 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Meaning? [5] +Solas slightly approves

General: I’m still myself. [6] -Solas slightly disapproves

General: Why does this bother you? [7] +Solas slightly approves

General: It’s done. [8] -Solas slightly disapproves

5 - Investigate: Meaning? PC: What does that mean, exactly? Solas: You are Mythal’s creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her. You have given up a part of yourself. [back to 4]

6 - General: I’m still myself. PC: I have not become Mythal’s slave. Solas: Not yet, but if you remove the layer of nostalgia from stories of the elven gods, you might see the danger. They were arrogant and fickle. They warred amongst themselves. They had feuds, vendettas. And you are bound to one of them now. I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus, which leads to the next logical question… [12]

7 - General: Why does this bother you? PC: You don’t even believe in the ancient elven gods! Solas: I don’t believe they were gods, no, but I believe that they existed! Something existed to start the legends! If not gods, then mages, or spirits, or something we’ve never seen. And you are bound to one of them now. I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus, which leads to the next logical question… [12]

8 - General: It’s done. PC: I had to do it, and I can’t very well take it back now. Solas: I know. I only hope it is worth whatever price you pay. I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus, which leads to the next logical question… [12]

2 - PC drank (low approval)

Solas: How does it feel to have the power of an ancient elven goddess flowing through you? Is it everything you hoped?

General: I had to do it. [9]

General: It was the witch or me. [10]

General: I’m fine. [11]

9 - General: I had to do it. PC: I didn’t ask for this, Solas. Solas: You drank. That is all that matters. I look forward to seeing how this works out for you. [12]

10 - General: It was the witch or me. PC: Would you rather I give Morrigan that power? Does that sound like a good idea? Solas: You see power as little more than a larger weapon. I look forward to seeing the price you pay. Until then… [12]

11 - General: I’m fine. PC: I don’t feel any different. Solas: I will try to suppress my surprise. Nevertheless, the power is yours… until Mythal chooses otherwise. [12]

3 - Morrigan drank

Solas (was at temple): The Temple of Mythal was extraordinary. In all my journeys, I never dreamed of finding anything like it. [12] Solas (was not at temple): The Temple of Mythal sounds truly astounding. I would have liked to have seen it. [12]

12 - Scene continues.

Solas: What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

Dialogue options:

General: I’ll restore what was. [13] +Solas approves

General: I’ll make the world better. [14] +Solas slightly approves

General: I’ll rely on those I trust. [15] -Solas slightly disapproves

General: One thing at a time. [16] -Solas disapproves

13 - General: I’ll restore what was. PC: I’ll use whatever power I have to undo the chaos that Corypheus and his allies have caused. Solas: You would put things back the way they were before? PC: Yes. I mean, not exactly… Solas: I know what you mean. Thank you. PC: For what?

Solas (neutral/high approval): You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor. You have… impressed me. You honor the past and work to recover what was lost, even if the cost is high. I respect that, and I am indebted to you for the reminder. [25] Solas (low approval): I do not agree with everything you have done, Inquisitor. Your actions have been shortsighted. You have made mistakes. But you understand the importance of recovering what was lost, even if the cost is high. I respect that, and I am indebted to you for the reminder. [25]

14 - General: I’ll make the world better. PC: This war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. Solas: You would risk everything you have in the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was?

Dialogue options:

General: I’ll keep trying. [17]

General: That won’t happen. [18]

General: That doesn’t matter. [19]

17 - General: I’ll keep trying. PC: I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again. Solas: Just like that? PC: If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right. Solas: You’re right. Thank you. PC: For what? [20] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 18 - General: That won’t happen. PC: We’ve done all right so far. We’ll have problems, yes, but we can handle them, Solas: Such confidence. PC: What’s the alternative? Do nothing? We have to keep trying. Solas: You’re right. Thank you. PC: For what? [20] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 19 - General: That doesn’t matter. PC: If that happens, it happens. We’re doing the best we can. That’s all we can do. Solas: You’re right. Thank you. PC: For what? [20] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 20 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Solas (neutral/high approval): You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor. You have… impressed me. You have offered hope that if one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better. [25] Solas (low approval): I do not agree with everything you have done, Inquisitor. Your actions have been shortsighted. You have made mistakes. But you never give up. You never stop trying, even when the consequences are grave. For your determination, I offer thanks. [25]

15 - General: I’ll rely on those I trust. PC: I’m not arrogant enough to think it’s my decision alone. Whatever happens, we’ll do it together. Solas: You think to share your power, to avoid the temptation to misuse it. A noble sentiment… but, ultimately, a mistake. PC: Why? Solas: Because while one selfless [person] may walk away from the lure of power’s corruption… no group has ever done so.

Dialogue options:

General: We will. [21] -Solas slightly disapproves

General: What, never? [22]

General: I will still lead. [23] +Solas slightly approves

21 - General: We will. PC: I trust my friends. Solas: I know that mistake well enough to carve the angles of her face from memory. PC: Why is this so important to you? [24] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 22 - General: What, never? PC: There’s a first time for everything. Solas: Perhaps… but it will not be this time. I believe even you know that. PC: Why is this so important to you? [24] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 23 - General: I will still lead. PC: If other members of the Inquisition overstep their bounds, I’ll be there to stop them. Solas: Ah, then I misunderstood. You will be first among equals. Good. PC: Good? [24] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 24 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Solas (neutral/high approval): You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor. You have… impressed me. You must not let false modesty allow you to pass your power to someone else. There are few regrets sharper than watching fools squander what you sacrificed to achieve. [25] Solas (low approval): I do not agree with everything you have done, Inquisitor. Your actions have been shortsighted. You have made mistakes. But they are your mistakes. You cannot correct them unless you claim them. Honor your mistakes. In the end, they may be all you have. [25]

16 - General: One thing at a time. PC: I won’t know the answer until Corypheus is defeated. Solas: Yet they are already asking you to answer. Restore the Chantry? Destroy the Chantry? If you do nothing, someone else will answer in your stead. Whatever you do, choose wisely. [25]

25 - Scene continues.

Solas: Forgive my melancholy. Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries, and its stolen power… that, at least, we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive.

Dialogue options:

General: Thank you for everything. [26]

General: Sounds like you’re leaving. [27]

General: Enough. Let’s finish this. [28]

General (romance): We’ll do it together. [29]

General (romance): So… good luck kiss? [30]

General (romance): Hey, stop worrying. [31]

26 - General: Thank you for everything. PC: Thank you, Solas. We couldn’t have done this without you. Solas: You are welcome. Scene ends.

27 - General: Sounds like you’re leaving. PC: You planning to leave before we take down the bad guy? Solas: No, but there may not be a later. It seemed wise to say my goodbyes now. Scene ends.

28 - General: Enough. Let’s finish this. PC: We can talk more once Corypheus is dead. Solas: I hope so. Scene ends.

29 - General: We’ll do it together. PC: Whatever comes, I will have you by my side. Solas: Come with me, vhenan. Scene ends.

30 - General: So… good luck kiss? PC: You’re being grim and fatalistic in the hope of getting me into bed, aren’t you? Solas: I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit. Come with me, vhenan. Scene ends.

31 - General: Hey, stop worrying. PC: You’re talking like you’re going to die. Stop. We’re going to get through this. Solas: I hope you’re right. Come with me, vhenan. Scene ends.

[heartof-lion]

Hades 2, and while I'll forever be on my 'you actually can do a retelling of the Hades/Persephone myth without treating Demeter like a helicopter parent AND giving her her justified rage, yes I'm looking at you Lore Olympus' bullshit.

Spoilers I guess as I got to the part of the game that isn't developed yet. I'll put them under Read More

Pro's:

This is a very well polished Early Access. I've yet to encounter a bug, and I can live with the fact that some image tiles don't exist yet, and some are just plain drawings.

All the minor deities/Mythological folk are done well. I'm never forgiving them for the lack of Ariadne (include her you cowards, you can include a Dead God, give me my girl). I do in fact keep wanting to punt Narcissus and I cannot wait for his image tile. He better be the twinkiest twink to ever exist. Echo, my poor girl, I just want to hug her.

Heracles, my beloved, they did your very justified rage right. You keep trying to tell Mel, And honestly I'm with you my guy. It is bullshit she gets all these Boons and you have to literally fight for it. Every time I get a Hera Boon I just want you to shake Mel and be like 'RUN GIRL'

Moros, don't make me love you, I'm trying here.

I'm loving how we're getting to see the effects of their dark side too.

Chronus. Death to Chronus but lord he terrifying. Eris is exactly the kind of maniacal shit stirrer she ought to be and I'm tossing your apple away the first chance I get. Icarus is obviously Bae (or was at one point) and oh honey.

Hecate and her Witches (Medea! Circe!) are exactly the kind of terrifying powerhouses they ought to be and while I won't forgive them for the six pack (WHY) she's just so Good. Caring, strict, and truly a believer in Mel and her task. Solid Mom A+

Cons:

Obviously it's not finished yet but for 30$ it's solid. I don't appreciate having to pay to be a Game Tester (pay people for that), but for a game I've looked forward to, for an independent studio? Sure, yeah I did it for Nightingale and that's literally just sticks and hopes. This is far more polished.

The story and its infinite replayability seems obvious in that literal Time will just rewind to where you don't defeat him, but I really hope you can pull the family out of their prison.

You have to fight the Goodest Boy. You maniacs, he's just sad, let me just pet him :(

Odysseus is great. But if he doesn't come off like the worst Crypto Bro that will not only have you believe in Crypto, but will also make you a fortune for you to realize he's ran off with 90% of it, but you have an infinite invitation to the castle he bought with your gains, he feels off. He's too nice. Also it feels wrong to romance him.

But this is funny

'Believe you got on his bad side' YOU ABSOLUTE NERD.

More when it's more finished I guess.

[profoundlyfaded]

[HC] The Orb and Karsite Weave

(Or: How Mystra is Only Out For Herself)

This primarily comes from my head canon that I use in all cases about the The Orb, and well specifically the book from where The Orb was contained.

I think the book in which the Orb was contained arrived back on the Material Plane at the same time The Crown was heisted out of Mephistopheles’s vault, stored by the Archdevil because he knew it contained this nascent divine power and perhaps he was considering whether a time would come when he would use it.

The Book, and by extension The Orb, were accidental passengers in Durge and Gortash’s return from Cania, perhaps that one could not be without the other - however, they completely overlook this book. But the Book and Crown are a pair and had our two villains realised this, they’d have had something more powerful than even they originally conceived!

So, it lands in the world and it’s like a flashing beacon; ancient, almost primordial. At first, Mystra’s Chosen picks up on it because it’s his work, seeking out and destroying magic that would threaten The Weave. However, his assessment of it is that of the old Weave, Mystral’s Weave, before she unravelled to end Karsus. Restoring this would be a great boon to Mystra, and to him, increasing her opinion of him in her eyes as well.

Gale has no idea it’s Karasite Weave; he tells us this in Act III and there is absolutely no subterfuge on his part when it comes to his titbit of information. And this isn’t a ridiculous notion - all magic was destroyed that day, and the Karasite Weave probably only existed for seconds. It should have been wiped out as something too small to shatter.

The only person who knows what it is, is Mystra. And I have trouble believing she wasn’t aware of what her Chosen had found until it was too late. Mystra could have stopped Gale, saved him before he needed saving but she let him open the book.

I suspect her reasons stem from a ruthless decision that she was willing to let any number of people die to destroy this piece of magic. It’s a threat to her - something that has utterly destroyed her Weave in the past (Gale tells us this in the none-romanced version of this discussion). It’s important to note from the Audience between Mystra and Gale is she says herself that it was his focus on saving himself that caused her to shun him. So, in essence, Mystra has two things to fear - the Crown itself as well as her Chosen now being imbued with this terrifyingly powerful nascent divine power. She knows if Gale combines the two, he’ll probably outstrip her as a God in a very short space of time.

(As an aside here, I think Dekarios the Divine does eventually usurp Ao if you pursue Godhood - that’s my interpretation of Raphael’s ‘warning’.)

Mystra shuts herself off from Gale, hoping, maybe even going as far as praying that he’ll run out of artefacts and explode, destroying the Karsite Weave with him. Again, she doesn’t really care about the casualties, to her any number of dead justifies the destruction of the Orb.

But he doesn’t run out. Instead Gale crosses paths with the Mindflayers, their Netherse imbued tadpoles and in orbit of The Crown.

Mystra sees the opportunity - she knows Gale has no idea what he���s really dealing with. She can be rid of The Crown and Orb in one fell swoop, and Gale is the Chosen who fell in service to his Goddess. I get the feeling the Mystra thought Gale might be grateful and much more willing to do this than he actually is, and feels her path is assured. She doesn’t count on the leader of the pack (or in the case of a Gale Origin run, Gale himself) deciding not to kill the Elder Brain at that moment.

It’s the easy route, isn’t it - what is a little sacrifice to save the world? Why would these heroes opt for the harder path?

So she dispatch’s Elminster to deliver the news and provide Gale with the much needed relief to let the Orb feed off the Weave. Remember this is not a cure, it’s a temporary respite that she could take away again.

(Aside here - the Human!Gale Orb ending is actually, in my opinion a really double edged sword because he’s not cured).

I do actually believe that Mystra couldn’t cure the Orb before now. The quest information for The Wizard of Waterdeep tells us, regardless of Gale’s decision, that if he seizes the Crown, the Orb will answer to him. I think Mystra can’t outright cure the Orb until she gets the crown because other Weaves don’t answer to her - look at the Shadow Curse, her power is deeply limited within Shar’s domain.

Once she has the Crown, it becomes in her best interest to extract the Orb from Gale. She takes it for herself, and we don’t really know what she does with it - perhaps she locks it away in one of her Pleasure Domes; perhaps she ponders using it against a fellow God such as Shar - but she needs both the Crown and Orb together. She cures Gale because it suits her and she’s not outright malicious enough to kill him in the process. I do think she held on to lingering affection for him but she also views him as what he can do for her.

[bonefall]

Are you going to do anything with the group of cats in the Sun-Drown Twolegplace from Sunset? I always hoped they’d come up again in a super edition or something, and as far as I’m aware they didn’t. I think they’re neat

You mean the group from Sunrise? The group of cats who previously followed Sol, but had since learned their lesson?

Jingo (leader)

Hussar

Speckle

Pod

Fritz

Jet

Pepper (Jet's littermate, killed by dogs)

Chirp

Merry

Frisk (Speckle's child along with 3 unnamed siblings)

These ones?

Unfortunately it's very likely they're going to get elbowed out of BB because of the Sol reduxes I've done. He isn't JUST some cat anymore; Sol is a god and its vessel is Harry. So there wouldn't be a scene where they go and meet these random cats.

In general I tend to avoid the various "random" cats outside of the Clans. Imo, I find it somewhat frustrating that canon has such a HUGE cast of various Clan cats, but every 3 books we get a ton of one-off outsiders who are never relevant ever again.

Like Cody for example, in TNP. Yes Cody is cute, but they couldn't have Leafpaw grow close to like, a WindClan elder escaping the poisoning? Or just, Ferncloud, who's going through a lot right now? Show us some more details about Ashfur who's about to be a major romance option for Squilf? You don't have any arc for a side characters you could use this time for?

You couldn't pick a character with some kind of legitimate emotional connection to their ANCESTRAL HOME BEING BULLDOZED?

Idk, it often annoys me. It's an extension of how some of these books feel packed with filler and dead-ends.

BUT, I do try to build outsider groups when possible, so Clan cats aren't totally alone in the world.

If I could figure out a good reason for them to exist without it being distracting (for example I would get frustrated if I had to set these characters up during the Salt Patrol episode instead of building up the massive apprentice generation) I wouldn't be opposed to them being here.

I could also repurpose them elsewhere, if I do end up making a Hengest Culture. I can bookmark them for that. Jessie is going to eventually return to Hengest after cat-divorcing Bramblestar, they could show up then.

TL;DR Unlikely I'll need them, but I'll keep them in mind.

[jacqcrisis]

Can I talk about the boat scene with Gale? I'm gunna talk about the boat scene with Gale and my boy, Alfonso "The Face-Breaker" Tombstone.

Cause here's the thing. Alfonso Tombstone isn't a religious person. It's not that he doesn't believe in the gods (in fact I dont think you can in this universe), but he disregards them mostly. Given his upbringing and his poor background, the gods are not a direct force to Al. They can be to other, more special people; people of influence and power and interest, but to little old Al, he's just another ant on the ground, living his life with as much of a thought about divinity as the divine probably have of him.

Given his status pre-tadpole, Alfonso fully knows that his life is more determined by the world and the people around him than any gods. And that's fine, that's preferable as divinity is not a replacement for the life that surrounds you, but it's also never going to get him into a tabernacle praying for a change in his circumstance because the gods don't care about lowly old him and, frankly, he doesn't need them to. If he wants a change, than either he will make that change, a person in his life will make that change, or some random chance will make that change.

And then he randomly gets scooped up by a mindflayer ship and everything goes topsy-turvy. He's miles from home. Surrounded by weirdos. Having an adventure.

Yet he still takes that core belief about deities with him. Its one of the things he and Gale bond over as the academic and divinely troubled wizard finds this uneducated athletic performer of an orc to hold surprisingly nuanced opinions about the very thing that vexes him. They debate about, argue, spend long hours into the evening discussing this chasm between their opinions on the role of the gods that do or do not affect their lives.

They never come to a consensus or an agreement, but it opens the door for their budding romance. The divine stops being argued. Conversations move on, relationships deepen, time passes. Shockingly, Alfonso still believes the gods have little interest in him even as he's suplexing the avatar of one deep in the bowels of a mindflayer nest.

And he's in love. Al doesn't want to admit it, doesn't want to plan for a speculative future, doesn't want to give himself that hope because outside of this adventure, outside of the tieflings and the children calling him a hero, he's still the same old Al. No amount of praise or good deeds done in the world could make him believe that if they survive all this and if life goes back to normal, that Gale won't finally see how goddamn uninteresting Alfonso is and immediately forget about him in favor of anyone more worth his time.

But maybe he does start to think about life after. Maybe he does daydream about simple times and simple days. No mindflayers or tadpoles or cults or dead gods or living gods and maybe Gale is there when Al is at his weakest of daydreams that they could have something in the after this. Maybe a home life or another adventure, but something together where Al can and does measure up to all the things in Gale's life that came before him.

And now Alfonso is sitting in a boat among the stars being asked by this person he finally started admitting he loves if they can ascend to the very thing that will make them leave Al behind. Because Alfonso wouldn't ascend with Gale; that's never going to be something he, the most salt of the earth kind of person to ever exist, would want. He isn't divine material, isn't capable of wrapping his head around the minutiae of that, is interested in that at all. If Gale ascends, he would be doing it alone and who would Al be to him but an ant staring at the sky, grieving the person he loved.

I like to think in that whole conversation, Al told Gale all that. That was his rebuttal to the 'tell me you want what i want' line, along with the whole 'I love you for who you are and not the god you'd pretend to be'. Which leads to the rest of the boat scene and I've got too many FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

[lacreni]

💕 WIP Romance Week, prompt 1 is to tell about a pairing in as much or as little detail as I want 💕

So let’s talk about Kai and the great loves of his life: his wife Liana, his long term girlfriend Bree, and his on-again-off-again boyfriend Camrys.

I sometimes like to describe this as the ‘worlds worst polycule’, but Kai’s three great loves very rarely interact with each other. In fact, Bree and Liana have never even met! Cam has met both the girls, though, and he’s NOT happy about sharing.

Kaios of the Lanra is the Champion of Jenu. He’s known throughout the world of Myris for spreading his goddess’s gifts of Inspiration and Hope through his music (and to his chagrin, often being forced to employ violence against the dark forces of the Skal who prey upon despair and desperation). Despite his reputation for being carefree and licentious, the old man has managed to catch absolutely debilitating feelings for three people in his life.

Liana, Matriarch of the Lanra is from a long and prestigious royal line. This was an arranged marriage, and at first Liana and Kaios got along about well as you might expect a ten year old boy to get along with a sixteen year old girl, which is to say: REAL BAD. In the slowest of burns that took five kids and almost two decades to complete, tolerating each other turned into friendship turned into a deep and lifelong devotion.

When Kaios felt the call to spread Jenu’s gifts throughout the world, he asked Liana’s permission first. While it broke her heart to do so, she let him go on the very strict condition that he always come home. He always has, at least once a year and more often if he can manage it. As a regent who is permanently moored to her homeland, Liana very much enjoys the stories, songs, and gifts Kaios brings her every time he comes back. Liana keeps 1-2 consorts on hand to cover for Kaios's duties while is out and about, but they know to make themselves scarce when her prince returns. <3

Bonus fact: The People of the Evening Sky are a bat-winged people a little over a foot shorter than humans and tend to be build much more lithely for flying. At just under five feet tall, most places Kaios goes he is an itty-bitty funny little man but compared to Liana he’s a giant hunky beefcake. She really likes that she can tuck her head under his chin and snuggle up against his chest while their kids/grandkids climb up him like a jungle gym. This sight is so sickeningly sweet it almost killed Camrys dead.

Bree Glazier is about as far from Liana as girl can get. Born and raised in the slums of the desert city of Rin, Bree makes her way in the oldest profession. It’s a hard way to make a life, and full of dangers, so when she happened upon happy, carefree Kaios spreading his little songs of hope and joy immediately after she lost several close friends she was, er… angry, actually. Very, very angry. Fortunately, Kaios doesn’t take being stabbed personally and he was able to talk her down with a little bit of that Jenu miracle. Kaios has done that sort of thing a lot over the years, but Bree was the first time he looked in someone’s eyes and really saw and understood the kind of darkness that existed out in the world. She became the push that took him from being merely Blessed by Jenu to being a Champion.

Kai and Bree have repeatedly helped each other out over the years as their personal situations have changed, and they know they can always find comfort and security (and great sex) in the other person no matter how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.

Camrys Reol is a very prim and proper gentleman scholar. Intelligent, cultured, and ambitious, Camrys joined the church of Fanir, god of history and knowledge, with a game plan. As a novitiate priest he quickly made himself an indispensable assistant to the holy city’s Primearch, angling to take the title himself once the old man kicked the bucket. Amongst his many very important duties was accepting, cataloguing, and forever entombing any profane artifacts brought to the vault by the Champions of the other members of the pantheon. Enter one extremely slutty short king and his stories of thrilling heroics, and Camrys immediately started to reconsider his life choices. Despite his best attempts to repress it, his one wild night with Kaios followed him all the way to his ordination, where instead of taking his vows and becoming a priest he found himself grabbing Fanir’s reliquary and hoofing it across the continent to go find his ‘soulmate’ so they could fight evil together. He was absolutely crushed and befuddled to find out that Kaios was both deeply disinterested in monogamy and happily married.

As the only divine Champion with both critical thinking AND leadership skills, Camrys appoints himself as general of the Divine Host during the Skal Insurrection. He takes his position and their mission to fight the forces of evil very seriously and is less than pleased that the man he’s obsessed with remains so irrevocably flippant and hedonistic even as the war between the Eltrin and the Skal takes up in earnest. During the Insurrection Camrys and Kaios became known for two things: getting in not-so-quiet arguments with each other and sneaking off to go fuck nasty when Camrys thought no one was paying attention.

[wedreamedlove]

The Depth of his Feelings - Evan Character Study

I am going to open this essay with a shocking sentence: Evan is an unreliable narrator.

One of the most magnetic traits Even has as a character is his resolve about his goals, even if it conflicts with his personal desires. This trait has led some people to misunderstand him and think he doesn't love the heroine until Chapter 17 and that he was just using her this entire time. Surprise! These two facts are not mutually exclusive, you can love and use someone at the same time.

(P.S. Every time I think about Evan's romance with his heroine, I think of Margaret Atwood's poem "A truth should exist, it should not be used like this. If I love you—is that a fact or a weapon?").

So, here I am going to tell you that Evan has been falling for the heroine ever since they first met and that it's just his ability to be stunningly ruthless (to his enemies and to himself) that created the "tragedy" of Chapter 16.

First though, I will prove that Evan is an unreliable narrator.

[SSR Illusionary Light - 11 Years Ago Late Autumn TRAJECTORY]

Evan: Every time I come to see you, it always seems to be raining. Evan: I heard it was also a thunderstorm the night I was born. Evan: That Guang Qi City had never experienced such a large storm for many, many years. Evan: At the time, you were alone in the hospital. You must have been very scared. Evan: Later, I often wonder whether or not this counts as a sign from God, that in fact I shouldn't have been born. Evan: That way we would have all been a little freer, and I wouldn't owe you anything. Evan: You wouldn't have had to suffer in silence and you could have left this household unencumbered, returning to who you were before. Evan: Your life would surely have been much better than now. Evan: I saw your past photos and many of them had smiles. Evan: It's a shame I never saw you smile. Evan: I know, you actually never loved me much, most of it was out of responsibility. Evan: I could see it. Evan: But you were the person who treated me best in that household. Evan: ... Mama, even now you must still hate me, right? Evan: All these years and you've never once come into my dreams. Evan: If that day I didn't insist on playing in the back courtyard, would this incident not have happened? Evan: I knew the path was icy, that it was very slippery and unsafe. Evan: Why does fate love to play with people? A person who doesn't want to live can always avoid death, while a person who wants to live ends up dead. Evan: It would have been best for everyone if the person who had drowned was me, right? I'm really not afraid.

At 15 years old, we see that Evan has been under the impression that his mother never loved him. This belief continues to the present and you can see it whenever he talks about his past or thinks about the concept of love. However, in Chapter 14, we are given another perspective.

[CHAPTER 14-5]

Letter: "Little Lang, I'm very sorry for how many creases this letter has." Letter: "My son has been very interested in origami recently and every paper in the house has suffered his ravage." Letter: "He's especially skilled at folding animals, so I asked him to fold a robin to be sent with this letter." Letter: "He knows I like to stay in my room and set the finished paper bird on the windowsill outside before leaving. Before I knew it, he's already grown this tall." Letter: "These are all irrelevant words. Thank you for your concern in the last letter, I'm living very well and I hope that you and my son will always be healthy and safe." The date was earlier than Evan's letter just now and the letter was signed by Robin. This was a past reply! Maybe too much time had passed, because I could no longer feel the emotions attached to it. But a gentle smile still appeared before my eyes, along with a woman who couldn't help but write these words as she watched her child do handcrafts below her windowsill. Did Evan not see that there was this reply? I stopped walking.

In truth, his mother did love him... it's just that things are complicated, such as how her relationship with Evan's dad deteriorated and how she forced a young Evan to practice the cello until his fingers bled or that she cared more about helping the innocent children caught up in the Eclipse Project over protecting her own son from the Blood Clan.

So, now that we know Evan can be an unreliable narrator, it makes his perspective on things untrustworthy.

[CHAPTER 16-13]

You knew it didn't belong to you, so you couldn't lose it. Relationships in this world were supposed to be like this. It was just that, when he took great pains to create a wound to keep her or perhaps even earlier, starting the day he tested her, the relationship between them had changed. Their so-called tacit understanding, coincidences, tears, forgiveness, concern, and trust... all of these were exchanged with lies. Evan turned around and directly pressed the button for the elevator. Just earlier, he nearly lost this weapon. He knew very well that if he didn't do this then she definitely wouldn't stay. Evan couldn't help but sigh emotionally at his superb acting. In that moment of hugging, persuasion to stay, comfort, heartache, jealousy, and interrogation, his body reacted before his brain as if he had really entered that scene. He even felt a faint pain in his chest. She had clearly been deceived, but she only cried and took a light revenge on him. Why didn't she hate him? Why did she still want to help him when she was tricked? Evan thought blankly. She ought to hate him. After being hurt so many times, she ought to know how to guard against him or ask him what he wanted. However, when she opened her bright eyes and took the initiative to say honestly that there was no reason, she just wanted to help him, Evan was at a loss. He even wanted to reach out and cover her eyes with his hand. He felt panicked for no reason, like his darkness and malice had been exposed bare without anywhere to hide.

Honestly, I think this scene in and of itself shows how much he is deceiving himself about his feelings. However, he has to harden his heart so that he can carry out his plan to use the heroine as a weapon to destroy the family head.

[CHAPTER 16 - EPISODE 2 IMPRESSIONS Scales of the Heart]

【1】 There was no moon tonight. Lu Castle stood quietly in the darkness, like a proud and silent shadow. Evan rejected Zhou Yan's offer to follow and walked into the castle alone. He didn't bother to maintain his gentleness of the past and ignored the bowing servants on both sides. His only goal was that man who had disappeared behind the truth. The dusty door to the study had not been opened for a long time and fine dust floated in the air. In the dim light, Evan was momentarily seized with terror but he soon reacted and turned his wrist slightly. The heavy thud of the closed door blocked all of the prying gazes behind him. Behind the large, black walnut desk was a heavy bookshelf that spanned the entire wall and was filled with all kinds of books accumulated over the years, many of which contained the history and secrets of the Blood Clan. Evan inspected this study. Without pausing for long, he walked over and took out the first book with a blank cover. He only had a short time to find what he wanted. Because, after two weeks, he had to present the most suitable vessel. 【2】 In the cold and silent study, only the sound of pages turning could be heard. "It's not this either..." Evan set down the file in his hand again. On it was his father's handwriting, which he was all too familiar with. A long time had passed and reason told him that those people may have noticed his actions, but he still relentlessly searched for evidence—was she a "god"? Evan lowered his eyes, concealing a hint of fatigue. His confrontation with Lu Ting had turned intense and the matter he had looked forward to had a new opportunity. His brain clearly knew what he should do, but a trace of hesitation appeared in his heart. He had forgotten this sort of emotion after his first trial. He searched for that evidence almost unconsciously, but he was uncertain if he truly wanted to obtain that answer. He just kept on repeating this futile action. His longstanding goal, the end of his longing; he had searched and planned for this for a long time and he had anticipated everything he needed to abandon on this road a long time ago. However, when this moment finally came, he found himself hesitating. 【3】 In the past, Evan had imagined it countless times. What was the deepest seabed like? It was lonely and dark, without a ray of light, and there was no way to convey sound, like a prison with no structure. And what was the end of the Blood Clan like? Perhaps it was the opposite of that, a void of nothingness. This bloody and sinful race would greet an eternal sleep in the void. They would have no reincarnation, no future, they would not be recorded in history, and they would be completely forgotten at the end. Recalling the savage and imbecilic arrogance of the Blood Clan controlled by desires, Evan let out a soft sneer from his throat. He knew that there were many eyes watching him, Lu Ting, his grandfather, and the clan. They were expecting him to succeed or perhaps they were expecting him to make a mistake. But he was no longer the child he was back then, and his plan could finally be started. It was just that the girl needed to be used as the most important chip. The scales of fate treated every person who experienced time fairly; to seize something meant losing something at the same time. 【4】 "If she really is a god..." The light in the study flickered for a moment and was caught by Evan's eyes, but the depths of his eyes were still a patch of darkness. He couldn't help but consider this possibility, and many of his guesses were confirmed. Or perhaps the day he tested her with a phantasmagoria, his subconscious had already made a judgment. "What do they think I'm going to do?" That he would do his best to prove the girl did not have the power of a god and could not be used as a vessel for the family head, thus exposing that his relationship with her was close, so much so that he would disregard the highest interests of his race? It was a shame they guessed wrong. If she was a god, then his plan would only become smoother. He would teach her how to use that power—this was also what he wanted to find in the archives—make her become his sharpest blade, and then give her to the family head as a "bomb" that would detonate in desperation. However, when he made this decision, his original thought still lingered—it would be great if he really couldn't find that evidence, he could lie to himself and he could still... send her home as usual. 【5】 Finally, Evan found a secret file in a corner of the bookshelf. He flipped it open. The paper was already yellow and it revealed to him the secret that had been concealed for many years—gods were once experiments of the Blood Clan and his father wrote many coded words about the power of the gods. The scales of his heart swung violently because of this secret. On one side of the scale was his longstanding obsession, on the other side was his already wavering feelings. He knew this opportunity was the chance of a lifetime and, if he missed it, it might be difficult to wait until the next time. He couldn't allow nor accept such a failure. The folder fell on the table and papers scattered in a mess. Evan took off the glasses set on the bridge of his nose and walked to the window. There was no moon in the sky outside, only twinkling stars that watched everything under the sky. To them, the obsessions and various turns and chapters of the world were nothing but insignificant moments. At this inopportune time, he wondered what the girl was doing right now. Was she worrying about the heavy work these days, or was she celebrating her success at this stage? Evan hesitated for a moment and then was silent for a long time. Finally, the scale still crashed to one side. His pale and stern face was reflected on the dark window and he withdrew his eyes, his expression turning cold. There had always been only one path he walked: by all means, without fear of sacrifice. Therefore, at least in this moment, and maybe only in this moment, he wanted to make this sort of choice.

First, I have to gush about this passage because it is one of my favorite impressions. It almost breaks the 4th wall, because among the eyes that are watching Evan's actions are ours, the readers, and we think we know the answer because this is an otome game and he is a male lead, except Evan takes this to the brink of no return. The repercussions of his actions, depicted later in the game, only cement the weight of the decision he makes here. He is so ruthless!

However, if there are still doubts about his feelings (despite how obvious his inner conflict has been depicted) then his actions later should thoroughly convince everyone of his feelings because:

After giving the heroine to the family head as a bomb, Evan was 0.1cm away from achieving his lifelong goal, except he turns back to save the heroine, thus exposing himself to all his enemies;

Evan, who could have killed the family head and Lu Ting, missed his opportunity because Lu Ting distracted him with the heroine's safety and now Lu Ting is stronger than ever after consuming the family head's soul; and

Warson is experiencing a financial crisis, thanks to Lu Ting manipulating the stocks, but Evan takes the risk in allowing the heroine to keep her fashion project under the brand Pristine instead of moving it to a more reliable brand for profit, an action that goes against what the chairman of Warson should do to maximize profits.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that Evan is not horribly in love with the heroine, because he is making things endlessly hard on himself by making all these mistakes and concessions for her. This man is absolutely wrecked by love.

Shifting gears, but it's intriguing that Evan and the heroine share a commonality in how they were very close to their maternal grandmothers, one of the few people that showed them unconditional love. In Chapter 16, Zhou Yan comments on how the heroine reminds him of a younger Evan, because they both have a gentle exterior but they are opinionated and, once they set their eyes on a goal, they will achieve it no matter what. Evan believes they are similar because they both became tools.

However, my opinion is that both Evan and the heroine are too soft for their own good. Evan chides the heroine many times in his mind about how she's better off without him, but honestly the same can be said for him because he never considers his own safety when it comes to her either.

[CHAPTER 17-5]

Matters had come to this point, but why did she still not hate him? She should hate him after being tormented like this. Evan: Have you never thought about yourself? Evan: You should wish for something to happen to me, not worry about my safety. Evan: You're not eating properly or sleeping properly. You're disobedient, and you never learn.

[SSR Enticing Feast DATE]

Everything had been arranged to let her see his true self. That vile, contemptible, hypocritical, and brutal self. It was best for her to hate him. The farther away she was, the safer. So, when he saw her rejecting him with natural fear and dread on her face, he only felt happy.

But Evan and the heroine are helplessly drawn to each other and I once wrote an essay about how their relationship can be summarized "Like Moths to Flames". I'm actually going to revisit this topic again because the Light and Night writers have added a lot more onto this imagery.

In my opinion, while it isn't a golden rule in stories with traditional gothic vampires, a lot of creators like to explore the aspect of how these creatures—so closely linked to death but are immortal—long for some kind of oblivion. The ultimate romance for them is something that ends in their own ruin and death.

Now, look at these exhibits below, and see how Evan's feelings for the heroine also flirts with death.

[Serene Forest Night EVENT]

Did four-legged animals use less energy when they walked? My thoughts flew to the skies and I pestered Evan, asking him, if you can turn into an animal, what will you choose? Evan looked around and a moth happened to pass in front of us. He pointed at it casually and said, I'll be a moth then. Honestly, he must be joking.

[SSR Illusionary Light - 14 Years Ago Summer TRAJECTORY]

The second thing I lost was a mechanical pocket watch. I couldn't sleep the night after I threw it into the fireplace. The wind whistled outside and I felt my temples throb again and again, much like the tempo of that watch. That night I felt that I was about to become a pocket watch, a heinous one that would lead people astray and had to suffer abuse. I wanted to be it, I wanted to be it so badly. From the moment it broke free from my hand and threw itself eagerly into the face of the raging flames, I saw a kind of inspiration that put me to shame.

[CHAPTER 16-13]

Suddenly, a small figure appeared in front of my eyes. It was a skinny boy and he knelt in front of a fireplace that burned vividly like a fiery sunset. A few wooden blocks hit him all of a sudden and the boy picked them up without a word, throwing them into the fire silently. The flames leapt, just like the light in a pupil. The scene ended. I couldn't see the boy's face, but somehow I felt that it was familiar.

[CHAPTER 16-15]

These days I couldn't help but think of the scene I saw when I touched it that day. That must have been Evan's past. I didn't know why he threw those wooden blocks into the fireplace. Later, I tried to touch it again but I still couldn't see the cause, I could only see his hands gripping the hem of his clothes tightly. I even had the misconception that he wanted to throw himself into those raging flames.

[CHAPTER 16-15]

He suddenly thought sorrowfully that, if she were to open her eyes in this moment, would she find that he was this unfamiliar to begin with? The person that you admired, that you cared about, that you forgave, was actually not him. Meanwhile, because he acted as that person, he lost himself in the act. He was too close. The girl's breath hit his face and it was very hot. It made him recall the firelight of the fireplace which had also once thrown itself onto his face like this many years ago. Time stood still in this inopportune moment and he was startled by the sudden surge of desire in his body. Evan straightened up and made himself cool down quickly. Desire turned to disappointment and stuffed his chest full. Don't get any closer, he told himself. Don't get any closer.

[CHAPTER 17-5]

Evan closed his eyes. He had carried out countless plans but this was the only time where he didn't know whether it was a success or a failure. Originally, he had only wanted to hide her that day and confess everything to her after the crisis was dealt with. It didn't matter even if she hated him, as long as she didn't leave again. He would rather be entangled to the bitter end than be strangers who owed nothing to each other. This wasn't right, but he wanted to do this and so he did. He had never been as loyal to his heart as he was then, truly and genuinely fighting for something for once. However, matters developed to this point and escaped his control a long time ago. In that case, she should just... hate him to the end then. It was better than being strangers.

In conclusion, I honestly think it's impossible to say that Evan was simply using the heroine until he caught feelings for her Chapter 16 and onwards. He's been attracted to someone who can so easily be his ruin since the very beginning and every step he's taken since has been him struggling with his goal and personal desires.

(P.S. Did you catch how I named this essay the depth of his feelings because of the homonym between "depth" and "death"? Haha, I'm sorry for the terrible joke.)

Lastly, I will end this essay with this scene about how hard Evan wishes to tie himself to the heroine, even after death.

[SR Butterfly Kiss On Top]

[MC]: Evan, if there was a day I left this world, will I also become a butterfly? Evan was slightly startled and the fingers that held my palm gradually closed in. Evan: What kind of butterfly do you wish to become? [MC]: Hmm... I've thought about it and, never mind, I don't really want to be a butterfly. I pulled Evan to jog a few steps forward and the light that spilled through the tree branches fluctuated. [MC]: I'll become sunlight! Then I can shine on the person I want to shine on. [MC]: When I land on him, he'll be able to feel my remaining warmth. I swung Evan's hand and sheepishly stuck out my tongue. [MC]: Does it sound a little weird? But Evan lowered his eyes, which contained a smile. Evan: Not at all. [MC]: What about you then? What do you want to become? He thought for a while, looking over my shoulder at the ray of light on the low wall. Evan: Dust, I suppose. [MC]: Oh? Why do you want to become dust? I stopped involuntarily and Evan raised his hand, combing my hair that had been tangled by the breeze. Evan: Dust is often difficult for people to detect, only when it's in the sunlight can you see its floating motes. Evan: I don't care whether or not I can be seen by others— Evan: Because it's only when you perceive me that my existence has meaning.

[tadpolebrains]

Heyy it's me again! Can I ask for another headcanon? I love your writing SOOO MUCH

So, in my Astarion romance play through the possible answer "maybe you need a friend rather than a lover" hit me and I was wondering, what about Astarion with a Tav who slowly becomes his best friend, making him realize that friendship exists? I dunno how to explain it better, just Astarion and Tav being BFF!

Thank you in advance, hope you're doing ok and drinking enough water <3

Hello again! :D

TYSM dhdhdh <33. And this did just make me go grab water so yup drinking well. That line you’re talking about- I really wish there was some way to choose it in game and then maybe after defeating Cazador get together once he’s in a more stable mindset. But welp, we take what we can get

Anywho, let’s do this

Tav & Astarion Besties

• Tav starts doing little things on the road for him, and it drives Astarion crazy at first as he tries to repay each and every little deed so he never falls in their debt

• They make sure he has some dead animal to feed on at night if they aren’t comfortable with offering their neck themself. They offer to fix his hair since he can’t see himself in the mirror. They just… want to hang out with him. And that confuses him to no end, because surely they’re expecting something in return

• So he tries flirting. Seducing. But they just chuckle at his advances or jokingly flirt back in a way that makes him question if they’re being serious or not

• Suffice to say, he’s baffled in the beginning

• After a bit of his advances clearly falling short, Astarion is at a loss. Because he doesn’t know what he can offer them if not for his body. Doesn’t understand what they want from him

• Then the Araj encounter happens, and they back him up. Support his autonomy. And… Astarion starts to realize that maybe they don’t want something from him

• Maybe, after all these years, he’s found someone good. And he can’t tell if he hates that or is relieved

• Still, he clarifies with them, and when they say that he truly just needs a friend, and they want to be that friend… he needs time to adjust

• He still reverts to teasing or lightly flirting, but over time chuckles with them at a corny line or bad pun he’s made. He finds it liberating, to joke about something he’d relied on for so long. To be allowed to find it cheesy

• They help him get used it saying ‘no.’ Start by just asking absurd things of him to get him to scoff and incredulously turn them down. The word feels less foreign on his tongue after a while

• Astarion would get in the habit of saying ‘no’ before doing something anyway. He likes how the words sounds. Tav asks him to pick up something they dropped? “No, darling, get it yourself” as he proceeds to grab it for them regardless.

• Friendly insults and banter. Astarion would enjoy having someone to fire back and forth insults with without it meaning anything.

• Gossip. You just know that once they’re close enough, Astarion would enjoy leaning over to whisper little gossipy comments into someone’s ear. “Oh, gods. The man two seats to our right has the hair of a straw broom. We best stay away, lest he shed on us.”

• Inside jokes. Astarion has always relished in causing a bit of havoc and confusion, so making Tav randomly burst out laughing by making a comment in the middle of camp that no one else understands is highly entertaining for him. Especially if they couldn’t possibly explain why it’s so damn funny

• Just… having a person to sit in silence with sometimes. Especially at night, if he’s had a nightmare. He doesn’t want pity. He just needs to lay eyes on another living being for a while. Tav has woken up multiple times to him watching them sleep.

• Eventually, getting used to small points of physical contact. High fives. Fist bumps. Astarion doesn’t understand the point of such gestures, but still has to stifle a smile whenever Tav bugs him into giving them a high five.

• Talking him out of ascension. Tav being living proof that there’s more to people than wanting to use him for his body or affections. Proof that he can have a life surrounded by close friends, and that he can be a good friend

• They’d still visit his grave together. It’s something he needs another person there for, since he doesn’t even know how he’ll react to seeing it after so long.

• Astarion sewing up patches in Tav’s clothing. Or fussing over their hair. Using the excuse of “we’ll be seen in public together, and I cannot be seen with someone who looks like they’ve crawled out of a sewer. Your appearance is part of my public image.”

• Tav running after him when the sun begins to burn him again. Sitting with him until the sun goes down, knowing him well enough not to mutter any reassurances that may be taken as pitying. Sitting there in silent solidarity and offering a hand for him to hold should he want it.

• If they don’t end up near each other, writing letters and visiting often. Always bringing random little trinkets that he’d complain about taking up space or being a pain to carry around, but keeps protectively

• Joining him to search for a cure to his vampirism later down the line.