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pennyellee · 2 days ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 - 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐁 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 title: champagne confetti - side B pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: tba beta read by @chaoticpuff17 release date: january 2025

Prompt 1: “you give me brand new emotion, you got me drinking that potion” Prompt 2: The lines did blur, in his mind for sure. Will you be tamed or will your passion for fashion falter for greater good - a life without Jeon Jungkook. When everything you’ve worked for hangs in the balance, his twisted love comes as both a gift and a curse.

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | physical violence, hint of incapable police department, jk is the boy saviour here and everybody bends backwards for his famous ass, dubious consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation, references to medication that affects mental and physical responses as "drugs" or "pills" or "medication", power imbalance, themes of isolation and confinement, gaslighting, mentions of mafia and criminal underworld, forced intimacy, oral sex (m!receiving), numbness, reader's difficulties getting wet, use of lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding/cow girl, orgasm difficulties, creampie, and so on (if i'll forgot smth, im so soorrryy!)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

this is a sequel, read part one of 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 main masterlist

author's note: so, where to start right? this was a long ass ride, mainly because i was fighting with myself to not burn out on this fic coz i loved it so much, and i still love it, but i won't lie that i got lil overwhelmed with how much love this fic received. I am so so so grateful for each and one of you! ♥ and thank you for your patience too. Life's not easy, please understand that, i always try my best. Thank you all. OH! I hope you will, have, or had very lovely and holy, merry christmas fairies ♥

You looked down at your mug, swirling the mulled wine as you gathered your thoughts. “I... I think I’m ready to go back to work,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The change in Jungkook’s demeanor was immediate. The warmth in his eyes flickered out, replaced by something harder, colder. He set his mug down on the counter with a soft clink, his posture stiffening.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm, but you could hear the edge beneath it. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you, the tension between you palpable. He took a step closer, his presence imposing.

“You have,” he admitted, his voice low and measured. “But that doesn’t mean you’re ready to go back out there.”

You felt a pang of frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I need to feel normal again, Jungkook. I need to get out of here, to do something meaningful.”

His jaw tightened, and he reached out, gently but firmly taking the mug from your hands and setting it aside. His fingers lingered on your wrist for a moment, his touch both comforting and possessive. “This is meaningful,” he said, his voice softening just a fraction as he looked into your eyes. “Us, here, together. This is your life now, Y/N.”

“But..but you promised.” Jungkook's expression flickered, a brief moment of conflict passing through his eyes before his gaze hardened again. He took a deep breath, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he processed your words.

“I promised to keep you safe,” he said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite identify—fear, perhaps, or desperation. "And letting you go back to work... it's not safe for you now, Y/N.”

You pulled your wrist free, taking a step back to create some distance. “I can’t stay cooped up in here forever, Jungkook,” you said, your voice trembling but determined. “I need to feel like myself again. I need to be around people, to do something other than just exist in this penthouse.”

He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his touch gentle but his eyes intense. “You are my life now,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “And I can’t lose you. Not to anything or anyone.” You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch despite the turmoil inside you. Jungkook’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Freedom comes with risks, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of love and possessiveness. “And I’m not sure I can handle those risks.”

“I promise I am not plotting, Gguk—” you began, but Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly.

“Are you not?” he cut in, his voice low and dangerous. The hint of desperation from before was now replaced with a cold, steely resolve.

“Just give me a chance to prove—” His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

“I don’t know if I can trust that, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with an unsettling mix of love and possessiveness. He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tight with tension. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his grip on your face softening.

“We have a family dinner coming up. It’s important, and everyone will be there. If you can behave, show that you can handle yourself around my family, then maybe... just maybe, we can talk about you going back to work.”

The implication of his words settled over you like a weight. This wasn’t just about proving yourself to him; it was about proving yourself to his entire family. The thought was daunting, but you knew this might be your only chance. To get away from his grasp.

“I'll do my best,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of determination and anxiety. “I promise.”

A small, almost tender smile tugged at the corners of Jungkook’s lips. “Good,” he said softly.

You swallowed hard, the pressure of the upcoming dinner weighing heavily on you. “Who will be there?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Everyone,” he said simply. “My parents, all of my Hyungs... among whom someone can offer you a position if you make a good impression.”

This was your chance, and you had to take it.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” you promised, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

You stood there in Jungkook’s arms, the Christmas lights twinkling softly around you, you resolved to do whatever it took to reclaim a part of your life.

“Now, show me how good you can warm my cock this Christmas.”

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy (was unable to tag) - @mylyus-blog (was unable to tag) - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngrl-blog - @mizuumii (was unable to tag) @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters - @junecat - @mayvalentine33 - @ttanniett - @elle0604 - @mageprincess7 - @laylasbunbunny - @ashthetic7 - @00frenchfries00 - @weareatthebadlands (was unable to tag) - @annafarrr -

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

see ya soon, love, p.

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yukioos · 2 days ago

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APOCALYPSE

SUMMARY: jayce talis x reader // after dealing with much criticism from heimerdinger and complaints from viktor about hextech, he finally walks home and ends his day peacefully lying on your chest.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys! i’m working on a viktor x vampire reader fic so that’ll probably come out this or next week. happy holidays, have a good day! this is 1.6k words

WARNINGS: not proofread, angst, jayce is going through a lot, depression, stress, anxiety, reader n jayce are married, pet names, reader is referred to as ‘mrs.’ and ‘wife’

jayce had to sit in a room and listen to heimerdinger criticize and critique his work for three hours. three whole hours were spent listening to him complain about hextech, and the professor wouldn’t let the scientist utter a single word. eventually, he just tuned out the sounds and words from the elder, and instead tried to think about you, his wife.

most of his days were spent thinking about you anyway. but sometimes your relationship would go through rough patches because of how little time jayce was at home. you understood he couldn’t be home all the time, he was a scientist, after all. the city of piltover heavily depended on him, and you knew this put major stress on the man.

sometimes he would become distant, and you would become worried for him and his health. days without hearing a word from your husband were common, you became accustomed to it. because of this, you cherished your days with him, and continue to do so whenever you encounter him.

jayce didn’t know how much of an impact he had on you by not being in your life as often as he wanted to. you were everything to him. you were the reason he did everything for piltover, it was all to protect you.

but he didn’t know how unhealthy it was for him to skip meals and hardly get any sleep just to keep the city safe. he knew the city wouldn’t be as developed without him, but he always felt the need to do better. when heimerdinger critiqued his work constantly, he began to feel overwhelmed and anxious with every step he took, in fear of not pleasing someone.

he once snapped at viktor for incorrectly solving a formula used for the hextech. unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed how agitated he had become because he was too focused. he began to hate himself more and more with every mistake he made and overworked himself past his limits.

as the days passed, you hardly heard from jayce. worry clouded your mind, and your heart raced quickly once your phone rang. you picked it up and glanced around your bedroom.

“um, hello?” you stuttered, seeing professor heimerdinger’s contact on the screen. you tilted your head and thought to yourself why the professor would be calling you at this time, at eleven at night.

“ah, mrs. talis! i wish we could speak on better terms, it is nice to speak to you again. however, eh, your husband has… collapsed. i was wondering if you could bring him back to your residence once we wake him up?” his chirpy voice seemed duller than usual, with a hint of dissatisfaction. he glanced at viktor, who gave him a halfhearted smile as he continued pacing around the room.

“wh— huh? i’ll pick him up but why has he passed out? i’m confused, professor, is he—”you began to ramble, overthinking all the scenarios that could have happened to your loved one. he hasn’t come home in days, you should’ve been at the academy with him. you should’ve been by his side, maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you were.

“please, mrs. talis, do not worry. i believe he hasn’t slept for a healthy amount of time, so he just passed out. no biggie, do not feel frightened for him. he is okay, he may just be… taking a power nap.” another voice is heard on the other end of the line, and the professor pauses, “ah, i apologize. i must leave now, as i have more work to do. please head over to the academy and pick him up. thank you, goodbye!” he replies, speeding up his words near the end of the call. he hangs up, leaving you with unanswered questions.

you slowly take the phone away from your ear and stare at the frame on your nightstand. it’s a photo of you and jayce getting married, and he looked as handsome as ever. tears were visible on both of your faces, mascara ran down your cheeks. it was the happiest day of both of your lives.

you really hoped he was okay.

when you arrived at the academy, you walked up to the professor’s lab, as you had studied there years ago. your heels clacked against the tiled floor, having to use a flashlight to see through the dark hallways. you gently knocked on the professor’s door and were met face-to-face with jayce’s lab partner, viktor.

“hello, mrs. talis. it is nice to meet you. as the professor also said, i wish it were under different circumstances.” he smiled and turned his head toward jayce, who ashamedly looked down at the ground. heimerdinger was gently speaking to him, but it seemed as if jayce wasn’t listening, like he was in his own headspace.

he had dark eyebags and had lost weight, his skin became more pale and ghostly. it was clear he wasn’t taking care of himself.

your eyebrows turned upwards, and you slowly approached your husband with worried eyes. heimerdinger cleared the path to him and nodded, permitting you to speak to him.

“jayce, sweetheart,” you mumbled, looking up at his form as he sat on the stool, you bent down so his eyes would look at yours. you brought your manicured hand up to his face and rubbed his cheek.

“we’re gonna go home, okay? you gotta take a break,” you persuaded, continuing to comfortingly rub his pale cheek. it was always one of the things that made him feel warm and cared for.

he nodded and mumbled an, “okay,” before slowly standing up and waiting for you to lead him outside. you gently placed your hand in his, and he weakly curled his larger hand around yours. you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to viktor and heimerdinger, then walked the path toward your shared house.

once the two of you arrived, jayce slipped his shoes off, and you did as well. you lead him up to your bedroom, where you suggested he’d properly sleep for at least eight hours.

the both of you slipped off your clothes and changed into comfortable ones, but what bothered you was that jayce hadn’t said a word since you brought him to the house. so when you dimmed the lights and laid on your side of the bed, you were surprised to see jayce hadn’t curled up into your side yet. he was normally a cuddle bug, but maybe he’s changed.

his eyes looked sullen as he stared at the ceiling. he sighed and turned his head towards you without a smile or word, staring deep into your soul, as if he was trying to tell you something.

you could guess what he was thinking, so you opened your arms up to him. he slowly moved to your side of the bed, and laid his body on yours. he let out a large sigh and perfectly laid his head on your chest. his breathing suddenly became more relaxed once you began to scratch his scalp, a gesture he loved ever since you two settled into a romantic relationship.

you began to feel cold drops of liquid on your chest, ones that you could only guess were tears. when you glanced down, you saw him biting his trembling lip. his body was shaking and holding onto you for dear life, and your heart broke at the sight. you would never want your husband to feel whatever he must’ve been feeling at that moment.

“jayce, baby, what’s wrong? i’m getting worried about you,” you mumbled, tilting his head up with your free hand. he began to let out sobs and whimpers, trying to hold them back but failing miserably. his walls broke down just at the caring words from his wife.

“‘m sorry ‘m not good enough,” he gasped, trying to take in more air. you and his mother always told him he was perfect, that he didn’t need fixing. hell, he even started telling others that, but he never would’ve believed he would’ve stopped thinking he was good enough for himself. his world came crashing down, all the stress plummeted to his heart, and in his lover’s arms.

“jayce, you’re perfect. you’re good enough for me, you’re good enough for the city, you should be good enough for yourself. you’re amazing, do you even know how much you’ve done for this city? you should be proud of yourself, honey!” you praised, causing his whimpers and sobs to become quieter, as he felt loved by your words.

“do you have an idea on how to not… dive into the headspace you’re in again?” you asked, wanting him to have control over the situation. maybe he would feel a bit better that way.

“can you make that decision for me?” he mumbled, not wanting to think too much. he just wanted to rest on your plush chest, with your warm arms trapping him in your hold.

you giggled, “mhm. how does a couple of days or a week off work sound? i’m sure the professor would let you have a break, baby. you need it.” you felt a smile and nod against your chest, and glanced down to see his almost asleep figure. his grip on your body became loose, even as his hand lingered on your thigh.

you were glad he was back home and safe. hopefully he would feel better and take it easy by the time he got back to working on the hextech.

even though he was almost asleep, you murmured soft praises to the man, including quiet ‘i love you’s,’ hoping it eased his mind. he fell asleep happy and peacefully in your arms, knowing he was loved and perfect in your eyes.

#yukioos #x reader #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane #jayce #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce league of legends #jayce lol #league of legends #league of legends jayce #lol #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce arcane x reader #jayce arcane

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arrowheadedbitch · 2 days ago

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Spoiler for Ithaca saga

"Used to say I'd make the storm clouds cry for you

Used to say I'd capture wind and sky for you

Have you in my arms prepared to die for you

Oh how time has flown"

Has me SCREAMING because he said that when he saw baby Telemachus and then HE ACTUALLY DID IT

Poseidon, the wind bag, the war and the whole journey, HE REALLY DID ALL THE THINGS HE SWORE HED BE WILLING TO DO FOR HIS SON RAAAA

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nightfurylover31 · 2 days ago

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It’s amazing with how little screentime Walters got, Sonic Movie 3 made me rethink his entire character! With new perspectives of his history, it changes everything.

Before, we just saw him as Olive Garden Guy. Just a standard government official meowing with our heroes. But after the third movie, he’s so much more.

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

As we speculated before, Walters was there during Shadow’s time. But he was not like the other officers. When he met Maria, he treated her kindly. You could get the vibe he was more of a rookie. Even though later on Maria and Shadow got into all kinds of shenanigans, there wasn’t any indication that this bothered him. He was one of the more down-to-earth members of the facility. Then came the day of the accident. When everything went wrong. When the military tried to take Shadow by any means. But Walters wasn’t one of them. He was against it. And one thing he said, made me rethink everything I thought about him.

“Those are children!”

That line. He says “children.” Plural. The only ones there were Gerald, Maria and Shadow. He wasn’t just referring to Maria. Despite what he was, despite being an alien, despite the experiments, Walters saw Shadow as a kid. Which makes what happens next even more tragic. He tried to stop the soldiers from hurting them, but his interference caused the explosion that killed Maria. Can you imagine how he must have felt? And that’s what led to Shadow’s imprisonment. Walter himself made the decision, with Shadow being too powerful to be left alone or be destroyed. It’s not an easy choice.

Walters takes no satisfaction in sealing Shadow away. He doesn’t want to do this. But with the power Shadow has, and what others could do to him, it’s the only thing he can do. This had weighed on his mind for 50 years. The death of a child, and a cruel incarceration of another. It’s like a double betrayal for Shadow.

Because of what happened to Shadow, that’s why he treated Sonic the way he did. He had to be as distant and unattached as possible with anything relating to the blue hedgehog to prevent what happened before from happening again. But with Shadow’s release, Walters had to confront past and tell Team Sonic the truth. The way he speaks is completely different. Not the normal military commander, but a man telling a tragic story. He even starts off with saying “Shadow’s story began a lot like yours, Sonic.” He noticed the similarities, that’s why he told the team.

And in his final moments, he gives Sonic the cannon key. In a way, he trusted Sonic and his friends with this more than G.U.N. Perhaps that was his way of making amends. He hoped that they could reach out to Shadow before G.U.N. found him. Maybe that’s a stretch, but I think, in the end, Walters made the right choice in trusting them.

#sonic movie 3 #sonic movie 3 spoilers #sonic movie spoilers #commander walters #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog

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ghoulangerlee · 2 days ago

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Merry Christmas everyone, please have this unedited dewther heat smut 😁

A few things: aether's in heat but dew isn't in a rut and as such, there isn't knotting in the literal sense, but dew does have funky anatomy that emulates a knot outside of his ruts! (As always he's ribbed for aether's pleasure)

aether can be read as trans here though his genitalia are referred to by masculine terms!

Technical double penetration in one hole for a scene but this is all wholly consensual!

But whew this is 4k, and fought me the entire time I wrote it so please enjoy!

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There’s a warmth settled across his hips, burning heat in his belly that feels more outward than anything, calling to him, pulling him out of his deep and restless sleep—groggy, he groans and opens his eyes slowly.

“Hey there Starshine,” Dew murmurs with a private little smile, reaching out to cup his warm hand against Aether’s cheek. “What a sight for sore eyes you are,” he continues, knees digging into the bed as he shifts forward, bowing over so he can press a soft kiss to Aether’s lips.

Aether signs into it, gives into the weight of Dew sitting over him, the line of heat he can feel even through the t-shirt he’s wearing.

There is still the low simmer of his own heat, burning just under the surface of his skin, but he ignores it in favor of wrapping his arms around the fire ghoul on top of him, rolling them over into his nest until Dew’s under him and he can press his face into the hollow of his throat, inhaling deeply.

Dew’s scent is there but barely recognizable, covered by the thick and sterile scent of travel and other people and Aether doesn’t realize that he’s growling until Dew’s shushing him.

“Promised I’d wake you with a kiss, didn’t I?” he asks, fingers sinking into Aether’s hair to tug at the strands, using his grip to draw Aether’s attention back to him and not his scent, “The shower would have woken you up and you’d be all pouty about it because you didn’t get a kiss first,” he murmurs, and his tone is only a little condescending, but mostly fond, a teasing sort of glint in his eyes as he speaks to him.

Aether narrows his eyes at him, torn between wanting to bare his teeth at Dew and wanting to admit he’s right, of course he is. He’s always right about Aether’s little quirks, even if he’s a bit mean sometimes.

Instead, he huffs and rolls off of Dew and onto his back—he doesn’t really feel much like talking and Dew seems to get that if the huff of laughter he lets out is anything to go by.

“You’re so cute,” Dew says, seriously and full of love as he sits up and works open the buttons on his shirt, “I’m going to shower and then we’ll see about getting some food in you,” he turns on the bed and leans over, pressing a sweet kiss to Aether’s cheek, “You doing okay right now, though, right big guy?” he murmurs the words against his skin, watching Aether’s eyes flutter closed.

He hums softly, turning his head enough to brush his lips over the corner of Dew’s mouth, he doesn’t speak, but a low sort of purr rumbles in his chest as he pulls away from the kiss and instead nuzzles at Dew’s jaw.

“Like a big ol kitty cat,” Dew mumbles with a little laugh, petting through Aether’s hair for a moment, “I’ll be back,” he promises, finally putting some space between them, watching as Aether settles back into the nest, head lolling back against the pillow with a pleased sort of smile on his face.

He stands from the bed and strips out of his shirt, losing his pants on the way to the bathroom, knowing he’s on borrowed time now, the clock ticking before Aether’s heat settles in for good.

At some point, he returns, though Aether’s not quite sure when or how long he’d spent in the shower, focusing instead, on the warmth of Dew climbing into the nest, shuffling Aether into his arms and pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Rain’s going to bring some food by,” Dew murmurs, pressing a warm palm against his back, “Should be here in about an hour, should have time to nap if you’re tired, big guy.”

Aether hums softly and nuzzles his way up to the hinge of Dew’s jaw, inhales the scent of heat and something entirely too enticing, too Dew for him to ignore—he exhales loudly and drags his tongue over Dew’s skin, shuddering in his arms as the scent of his mate settles something inside him.

Dew tilts his head back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as he sinks his fingers into Aether’s hair, petting at his scalp, “You’ve been working too hard, baby,” he murmurs after a few moments, his voice gentle and concerned, “Me and Copia leaving you behind really pulled you into an early heat, didn’t it?” he asks, rhetorical, the hand in his hair slipping down to cup the back of Aether’s neck and squeeze.

Aether groans, melts more into Dew’s arms, snuffling at his throat, and, if he thinks about it, pushes aside Dew’s scent and the heat in his belly, then yeah, all of this started shortly after Copia and Dew had left, after Dew had kissed him and bedded him down for the last time for a while—it hadn’t been anything different from their usual couplings, but Aether remembers feeling despondent when Dew had kissed him one last time, a smile on his lips as he murmured his love into Aether’s mouth and Aether had clung to him just a little bit tighter than normal.

“Cu could smell it,” Dew continues to speak, squeezing the back of his neck again and leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “Could smell that you were spiraling; it’s so hard for you to be away from your mate when you’re going into your heat, right?” he asks, there’s a kindness there that Aether grabs at, and he makes a noise, in agreement he thinks, and Dew laughs a little, fond and happy, “Poor thing,” he coos, nuzzling his temple, “I didn’t think—” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you were going into heat, baby, otherwise I’d stayed with you, brought you here the right way,” he slides his palm up Aether’s back, slow and gentle, “Instead of letting you get yourself worked up like this.”

Aether shakes his head, lifts his head so he can kiss Dew instead, hopes that the but you’re here now comes across even without him actually saying it and when they break apart, Dew’s smiling up at him.

“Okay, okay,” he says softly, scratching his nails against Aether’s scalp again—something Aether loves only when he’s in heat but loathes most times when he’s not, letting Aether tuck his head into his throat again, “Think you can rest for me, big guy? Nap a bit while we wait for food?”

And well, Aether does feel tired, among other things, the low simmer of heat beneath his skin, the empty feeling in his stomach—beyond all of that, there is a tiredness in his bones, one that has his eyes feeling heavy, he snuffles against Dew’s skin, settles all of his weight in a way that would surely squish anyone else, but Dew revels in.

“That’s it, big guy,” Dew mumbles, slides his other hand under Aether’s shirt, palm settling warm against his lower back, “I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat,” he promises, draws a little heart into cool skin with a warm fingertip, smiling when Aether snuffles again, goes still, resting.

Dew sighs quietly, tipping his head back against the pillow and allowing his own eyes to flutter closed, surrounded by the scent of his mate and their nest.

Aether wakes first—to the scent of food and to the fading scent of wetness, pack and a voice in the back of his mind whispering predatorpredatorpredator, when he cracks his eyes open and lifts his head, there’s no one else in the room, but the scent of something makes him whine a little, press his face into Dew’s throat again to block it all out.

Dew’s hands, which had stopped moving sometime when he’d fallen asleep, jolt as Aether moves, nails dig briefly into the sensitive skin of his lower back, drawing a hiss from him before Dew’s moving, shifting under him and grumbling a bit at being woken up.

“Everything alright, big guy?” Dew mumbles, voice low and laced with tiredness as he pats at Aether’s skin, soothing over the ache and it takes him a minute, to wake up, to wheeze out a breath as Aether settles all of his weight on him, as if trying to settle inside him.

“Someone was here,” Aether manages, the words a little rough from disuse, his voice cracking at the end—he doesn’t sound weak, no, but there’s something vulnerable there that he can’t hide. “I know it was probably just Rain, but—” he stops speaking then, feeling somewhat like a fool for thinking ill of his own packmate.

Dew’s hand slips from under his shirt so he can cup the sides of his head instead, drawing him up and out of his throat so he can stare into Aether’s eyes—they're a little droopy, somewhat sad, tired—the weight of a once in a lifetime heat settling heavily in his demeanor. “Hey, Aeth,” he murmurs, gentle and careful, “It’s okay, I should have told Rain to leave the food at the door,” he tips Aether’s head to the side, leans up as much as he can so he can scent the quintessence ghoul, rubbing a cheek against the underside of his jaw. “S’okay, he didn’t come in the nest, he would never,” he promises softly, tips his head and presses a sweet kiss to his skin.

Aether exhales loudly and after a moment, settles down against Dew again, tension seeping from his body as he lets Dew tip his head to the side so he can mouth along his jaw, “Sorry you gotta deal with this whenever my heat comes around,” he mumbles, feeling only a little bit sorry about the way his emotions seem to spark in a way that makes something dark twist in his belly.

Dew smiles against his skin, sinks both his hands in Aether’s fluffy hair before drawing him into a proper kiss, “None of that,” he murmurs fondly, “I love how you are when you’re in heat, baby.” he kisses him again, longer and slower this time, until he feels Aether pawing at his sides, “So sweet for me, aren’t you darling?”

He hums something, low and infernal, tongue too heavy in his mouth to form proper words as he tries to chase Dew’s mouth, the thought of Rain’s scent in the room fading to the back of his mind, pinpoint focus solely on his mate under him now.

“Sweet thing,” Dew coos, kissing Aether on the mouth again, “I want to feed you now, alright? Something easy—” he pauses, glances over at the tray left by the bed, “Looks like there’s some fruit, do you think you could eat that for me?” he asks, cupping the side of Aether’s face, nudging their noses together.

Aether makes a noise, something half agreement, he could eat—there's an emptiness in his stomach that isn’t from his heat, and he tries to think back to when he last ate something substantial, scattered thoughts coming up with nothing after several long moments.

He’s rewarded with another kiss, chaste and sweet against his mouth, the taste of Dew clinging to his lips even as the fire ghoul pulls away from him.

“I’ll need to get the food, darling,” Dew murmurs, slipping an arm around Aether and rolling them onto their sides until Aether’s sprawled in the nest, half under him. “Stay right there,” he says, nudges Aether’s wandering hands away before he slips off of him, most likely to grab the tray.

Of course, Aether knows this, but that doesn’t stop the disgruntled sound that leaves his mouth, arms flopping uselessly to the bed—he may crave to keep Dew close when the heat itches at his skin, but listening to Dew and staying where he’s told to tend to overpower that need, the want to be good for his mate making him lay moodily in the bed while Dew slips out of it to grab food.

“I can feel your ire from here, babe,” Dew says with a little laugh, fond and full of love, “I’m just grabbing some fruit,” he turns away from the bed and that’s when Aether notices that he’s naked still.

Dew’s pale on the best of days, something left over from being born into the world a water ghoul, but he’s got some color to his skin now in his half-shifted state—lines of scales clustered in his lower back and along the length of his shoulders that should have scabbed over once the transformation had completed instead shifted with his temperament, now an iridescent burgundy color that seemed to sparkle in the low light of Aether’s bedroom.

His shoulders not broad, but wide and comforting, telling of the hidden strength beneath his skin, muscle coiled tightly, rippling with his movement as he reaches out to grab a few of the bowls from the tray.

Something happy settles deep in Aether’s belly at the sight of his mate, of the subtle power beneath his skin, his firm touch, the way he knows exactly what Aether needs before he even has to say it.

When Dew turns back around, his eyebrow is raised—there's another cluster of scales above his left eye, fading up into his temple and hairline and Aether’s gaze is drawn there for a moment—not that it matters, because Dew knows him, could probably guess what he was thinking about just now.

It brings a flush of color to his cheeks and as much as he wants to bring his hands in and cover his face, he doesn’t because there’s nothing more satisfying that having Dew’s dark gaze on him, taking in his body—the way his shirt’s rucked itself half up his chest and his underwear sit now just below the heft of his stomach, it’d taken him a bit to get used to it, get used to the honest gaze from the fire ghoul, the way it made him feel desired in every single way possible.

“Good boy,” Dew says, voice a little rough as he steps back closer to the bed, cradling two bowls against his chest, but Aether’s gaze is drawn downwards, where his cock is starting to chub up now. “Hey,” the fire ghoul says, a bit sharp, drawing Aether’s gaze back up to his face immediately, “None of that yet, food first.”

There’s a voice in the back of his mind, dark and demanding that whispers you are my food, the words wanting to slip out, but he bites his tongue and nods, shifts his weight back up against the pillows he’d been left on.

He rolls over onto his belly, buries his face into the pillow to breathe in Dew’s scent—somewhere behind him he hears the fire ghoul laugh and the bed dip as he climbs back up onto it.

“C’mon big guy,” Dew says, resting a warm hand on the small of Aether’s back, “Let me see your pretty face, feed you some fruit, yeah?”

Aether huffs and rolls onto his side, shifting until he can rest his cheek on Dew’s bare thigh, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of warm skin against his own slightly cooler skin, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when he curls a hand around Dew’s ankle.

Dew smiles down at him and places the bowls down by his thigh, “There you are,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Aether’s hair, scratching his nails gently against his scalp, “Just like a big cat,” he coos, feeling Aether lean into the touch, “Are you going to be a good boy and eat for me now?”

It’s an innocent question but oh, it makes the heat stir in Aether’s belly, makes him press his legs together tightly, eyes fluttering back open to stare up at Dew. He licks his lips and nods, turns his head to press a barely there kiss against his bare thigh before he tips his chin up and opens his mouth, tongue lolling out, patient and waiting.

Dew’s fingers clench in Aether’s hair, just for a moment, before he composes himself again, his cock chubbing up more where it’s resting against his inner thigh, “Good boy,” he says, voice a little rough as he gently places a cut strawberry on Aether’s tongue.

He makes eye contact with Dew as he pulls it into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it—when he opens his mouth again, his tongue is a bit pinker than before.

“Seven hells, Aeth,” Dew mutters, mostly to himself, feeding him another bite of strawberry, “Such a good boy for me.”

Aether makes a happy sound in his throat, graciously accepts the fruit that Dew continues to offer him, until he’s polished off the strawberries and eaten half of the pineapple chunks, his lips sticky and tacky with fruit juice, heat burning bright as his mate continues to care for him.

Dew’s mostly hard now, his determination to make sure Aether’s fed and well cared for waning away now that there’s less fruit in the bowl—Aether's scent growing sweeter the more content he gets.

Aether squeezes Dew’s ankle, turns his head away when Dew goes to offer him another bite of fruit and instead, mouths at Dew’s thigh, panting wetly against warm skin.

“Alright darling,” Dew murmurs, moving the bowls off of the bed, stretching his body as much as he can to get them placed somewhere stable—on the table or the floor, he’s not really focused, loses the last bit of pineapple in the bowl to the floor as he feels Aether tug at his leg. “I’ve got you,” he promises as he clamps a hand around the back of Aether’s neck, squeezes tight. “Let me take care of you, Aeth.”

A noise looses its way from Aether’s throat as he goes limp over his lap, the firm hand on the back of his neck keeping him in place. He wants to beg, plead for something, but Dew’s words, his promise to take care of him keep the words inside him.

“Good boy,” Dew murmurs again, presses his thumb against the side of Aether’s neck, where he can feel his pulse hammering away, “You’re so good, doing so well for me,” he continues, hissing a little as he gets a hand around himself. “Tongue out, big guy.”

Aether’s eager, tongue lolling out once more, the silver of his eyes swallowed up by the constellation of his iris as he tries to get closer—impatient, but Dew shushes him, squeezes the back of his neck in warning and Aether backs off, waits, patient and good.

“Good boy,” Dew repeats again, angles his cock to press against the flat of Aether’s tongue, cool and wet against his heated skin, “Shit, you’re such a good boy,” he murmurs with a moan, eyes fluttering closed.

He whines, the noise lodged low in his throat as Dew’s cock slides over his tongue, as one of Dew’s hands comes to gently cup his cheek, he doesn’t move—he waits, just like he’s supposed to, the salty, musky taste of precome heavy in his senses.

“Good boy,” Dew whispers in awe, looking down at the constellation flush across Aether’s dark cheeks, the way his lashes seem extra-long as they fan across the apples of his cheeks, eyes closed and content as he waits for Dew to tell him what to do next.

“You can suck,” Dew mumbles, traces the pad of his thumb over the corner of Aether’s mouth as the quintessence ghoul hollows his cheeks and sucks, moaning around his mouthful, already so far down. “Shit,” he whispers, cradles his cheek with a shaky hand as Aether drags his tongue against the ridge along the underside of his cock.

The heat in his veins burns brightly, urging him to take more, the promise of Dew’s come spilling inside him has him hungry for more, for keeping his mouth here, around Dew as long as he can, until the fire ghoul can’t take it anymore—he drifts, doubling his efforts as the hand on his cheek guides him to take more, to bob his head along the length in his mouth, until the lines blur together, until he’s no longer sure where Dew begins and he ends.

Aether’s scent blossoms into something sweet, swelling inside the room as he all but chokes himself on Dew’s cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucks him off enthusiastically and Dew feels a pull to it—he’s not rutting, but Satan Below, if anything could pull him head first into a rut, it would be Aether’s scent, cloying his senses until he can taste it.

“Babe, baby, babe,” Dew says, breathless, voice rough as he squeezes the back of Aether’s neck, uses his grip to ease him off of his cock after what feels like hours, shushes the quintessence ghoul when he whines for it. “Hey, hey, big guy, it’s alright, you’re stinkin’ up the place with need and I wanna make you feel good too,” he murmurs, placating, thumb brushing over Aether’s thundering pulse, “Lay on your back for me, sweetheart, let me get my mouth on you, my fingers in you.”

Aether makes a wild noise then, surges up despite Dew’s grip and tackles him to the bed, settling all of his weight over the fire ghoul, underwear sticky and wet as he grinds down against the curve of Dew’s cock—it pulls pleasantly, sates something animalistic and dirty he can’t quite name as he dips down and kisses Dew, his mate, firmly on the mouth.

Dew’s hands grapple at Aether’s waist, gripping his hips tight enough to leave indents behind as he guides his hips, making wounded little noises into the kiss, moaning as Aether bullies his mouth open, sucks on his tongue like he’s sucking cock all the while he’s getting wetter and wetter until he’s dripping through his underwear, slicking up Dew’s cock, getting his pubes saturated and wet—something that makes Aether purr, the animal inside him pleased at how he’s making his mate smell like him, how their scents are so intertwined it’s hard to tell whose is who’s.

Dew sucks in a sharp breath when Aether finally pulls away from the kiss, dives down and instead mouths along his neck and throat, tasting his skin and sweat and Dew feels an impatience bubble up in him, a need to provide that feels almost like rut but isn’t quite there.

His nails are sharp before he can think about it too long, easily slicing through the thin material of Aether’s underwear—he doesn’t dare move the ghoul on top of him as he pulls away shredded, soaked cotton until Aether’s blissfully bare.

His scent stronger now, no longer muted by cloth and Dew wastes no time slipping his hand between their bodies, nails dull and human as he sinks two fingers into Aether’s wet, clutching heat.

Aether moans wetly against Dew’s throat, shifts his knees further apart and sinks back onto his fingers, burning from the inside out—he can’t find the words, can’t help the way he all but rides Dew’s hand, wanting, needing everything that the fire ghoul is willing to give.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Dew manages to murmurs, curls his fingers and presses against the spot inside him that has his toes curling, “Just need to get you ready, baby, babe, just gotta make sure it’s good for you.”

He tolerates it for a bit, sucks a bruise into Dew’s clavicle, grinding down on the fingers inside him, mindless with pleasure, but the heat builds, grows exponentially until it feels like an inferno, he thinks he makes a noise, something pained, but he fights his own body’s faculties to get a hand down between his legs, to get it around Dew’s cock, babbling something as he guides the head of it where he’s already split open around Dew’s fingers.

A whine catches in his throat, and Dew doesn’t stop fingering him, even as the head of his cock pops inside, stretching him to nearly beyond what he can handle.

Dew shushes him, cards fingers through his hair as the fingers inside him press insistently against the spot inside him that has him shaking, “You can take it, baby, you just need it so much you can’t wait, I know, but I’ve still got to stretch you, even if you’ve already got me inside.”

Aether makes a pitiful sound, grinds against the fingers and cock inside him until Dew slips into him a bit more, fingers buried knuckle deep, the ridge on his cock pressing teasingly against his hole, almost inside him.

He sobs then, when Dew’s fingers crook up and he gets a thumb against his dick, rubbing circles against the sensitive head where he’s sticky and hard—his body clenching up right around fingers and cock alike as he comes, a gushing flood of slick covering them, a pitchy moan leaving his mouth when the fingers slip out of Dew’s cock slides into him fully.

He's being shifted around, thighs wide over Dew’s hips, shaky knees digging into the bed as he sits fully on Dew’s cock, clenching rhythmically around it—the hard ridge satiates a dirty desire in him to be knotted full—Dew’s cock pressing up inside him in all the right places, keeping him full and happy.

He grinds his hips down, small little circles and Dew hisses, digs heady bruises into his skin as he holds him, guides him—he’s babbling, calling him a good boy all the while the slick mess between them grows.

"Good boy, good boy, good boy,” Dew whispers through clenched teeth as Aether milks his cock, coaxing him closer and closer to his orgasm, he gets his hand on Aether’s cock again, circling slick fingers around it and rubbing, rubbing oh so carefully as he guides Aether into another orgasm, the quintessence ghoul shouting as he undulates on top of him, in his lap.

Dew guides him down into a kiss, hand on the back of his neck as he fucks up into him, Aether’s body sated and limp, happy—he feels Aether’s teeth, sharp, on his bottom lip and that’s all it really takes for him to drive up into Aether a few more times, coming with a harsh cry into the kiss, nails digging into the back of Aether’s neck.

He whines, pulls away from the kiss and shoves his face into Dew’s throat, shaking a little as he settles, as the flood of come inside him stops that voice in the back of his mind, the begging, begging, begging that’d been itching beneath his skin for days.

Finally quiet.

Dew’s arm slides around Aether’s lower back, settles there, warm and steady as he rolls them, until Aether’s on his back and Dew’s laying between his splayed legs, still hard enough to stay inside, to keep him plugged and full—there’s an itch of oversensitivity in the back of his mind but he pushes it out of his mind as Aether’s content purr rumbles beneath him, vibrates his chest, his own answering sound coming from somewhere deep within.

They��ll have to move, at some point, when Aether’s a little more aware, when the ache in his legs and thighs call for a change in position, when he’s able to form a coherent word once more, but for now, Dew is content to pepper kisses against Aether’s forehead and listen to him purr as the first round of heat settles.

#dewther #heat smut #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost fic #my wrtitng

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herrscherofinsanity · 1 day ago

Text

A Christmas Promise

Karina plans to spend the holidays with her girlfriend... until everything comes apart.

A bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Karina (Yu Jimin) x fem!reader

Word count: 2.9k

My Christmas gift to you guys; happy holidays!

____________________

Los Angeles

y/n stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over the call button. The message from her manager still lingered on the screen, glaring at her like a cruel reminder:

"The Christmas charity concert is non-negotiable, y/n. It’s the biggest event of the season. You’re the headliner."

It wasn’t just about the concert—it was about her image, her fans, and the responsibility she carried as a so called “household name”. But this wasn’t just any Christmas; it was supposed to be her first real holiday with Jimin. A private, intimate celebration after months of stolen moments, late-night phone calls, and whispered "I love yous."

With a deep breath, she pressed the call button. The phone rang twice before Jimin’s familiar, warm voice answered.

“Hey, sunshine,” Jimin said, her tone instantly brightening y/n’s mood.

“Hi, babe,” y/n replied softly, though her usual spark was missing. She heard Jimin pause, as if sensing the shift in her tone.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, her voice laced with concern.

The younger girl closed her eyes, wishing she could say anything else. “I... I can’t come to Seoul for Christmas.”

The silence that followed was deafening. y/n could imagine Jimin gripping her phone tightly, her lips pressed into a thin line as she processed the words.

“You promised…” Jimin finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” y/n replied, her voice trembling. “I tried to push back, but it’s the charity concert. I have to be there.”

Jimin’s silence stretched again, but when she spoke, she forced her voice to remain steady. “I get it. Your fans need you, and this is important. It’s fine.”

But it wasn��t fine, and they both knew it.

“Jimin—” y/n started, but the older girl cut her off gently.

“It’s okay, sunshine. Really,” Jimin said, though there was a tightness in her voice. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe next year…”

y/n felt her heart crack. “I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

“I know you will,” Jimin replied softly, before adding, “I should go. The girls are waiting for me.”

“Okay,” y/n said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

As the call ended, y/n stared at her screen, guilt gnawing at her. She had never hated her career more than in that moment.

-----

Meanwhile in Seoul…

Jimin sat on the dorm couch, staring blankly at the Christmas lights twinkling on the small tree the group had decorated earlier that week. The room was filled with the smell of gingerbread and hot chocolate, the warmth of the season radiating from every corner, but to her, it all felt hollow.

She barely noticed Aeri plopping down beside her, a mug of hot chocolate in hand. “Hey, what’s with the long face? I thought you’d be buzzing with holiday spirit.”

Jimin tried to muster a smile, but it fell flat. “y/n can’t come home. She’s stuck doing a charity concert.”

Aeri frowned, setting her mug down. “That sucks. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing her.”

Aeri doesn’t point out the fact that Seoul has never been home to y/n. She understands Jimin is referring to herself.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, her voice barely audible.

From across the room, Minjeong looked up from the gingerbread house she was decorating—or rather, destroying. “Wait, she canceled on Christmas? That’s rough, unnie.”

Yizhuo, ever the nice one, chimed in. “Let me guess, you’re pretending you’re okay but secretly dying inside?”

“Yizhuo!” Aeri scolded, but Jimin let out a weak laugh.

“She’s not wrong,” Jimin admitted, running a hand through her hair. “I just... I really wanted this. Just one Christmas together.”

Minjeong walked over and plopped down on the other side of Jimin, looping an arm around her shoulder. “She’ll make it up to you. y/n adores you, you know that.”

“Yeah, but it still hurts,” Jimin confessed, her voice cracking.

The three girls exchanged glances. Aeri reached out and squeezed Jimin’s hand. “We’ll get you through this, okay? No moping around. We’ve got cookies to bake, movies to watch, and—”

“Hot chocolate to spill on each other,” Yizhuo added, smirking.

“Hey!” Minjeong shot back, glaring at the youngest.

Despite herself, Jimin smiled faintly at their antics. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

-----

y/n stood backstage at the sprawling venue, the air buzzing with energy as staff members rushed around with last-minute preparations. The massive Christmas charity concert was only hours away, and she was the headliner. It was everything she’d worked for—but tonight, her heart wasn’t in it.

Her manager walked up to her, clipboard in hand. “y/n, the soundcheck’s in five minutes. You good?”

She forced a tight smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t fine. She could barely focus, her mind wandering back to Seoul. She pictured Jimin sitting by the tree, sipping hot chocolate, her smile dimmed by disappointment.

Her chest tightened as she adjusted the microphone in her hand. This was supposed to be their first real holiday together, and she had ruined it. She glanced at the bouquet of lilies resting on her dressing room table, originally meant for Jimin. It felt like a cruel reminder of what she was missing.

As the soundcheck began, y/n pushed through the motions, her usual passion absent. When her manager finally gave her a break, she retreated to her dressing room and pulled out her phone.

Her thumb hovered over Jimin’s contact. She wanted to call her, to hear her voice and apologize again. But she hesitated, unsure if she deserved to interrupt Jimin’s night with yet another reminder of her absence. Instead, she typed a quick message:

“I miss you, more than words can say. Merry Christmas, my love.”

She stared at the screen, debating whether to send it. Before she could second-guess herself, she pressed send.

-----

Jimin lay sprawled on the dorm couch, her phone resting on her chest. The girls had tried their best to cheer her up with a night of baking, board games, and Christmas karaoke, but the void in her heart remained.

She stared at the twinkling lights of the tree, the colors blurring together as tears threatened to fall. Her phone buzzed, and her heart leapt. She grabbed it, hoping it was y/n.

It was.

“I miss you, more than words can say. Merry Christmas, my love.”

Her lips trembled as she reread the message, the pain of missing her girlfriend mixing with the warmth of knowing she was thinking of her.

“Who is it?” Yizhuo asked, peeking over Jimin’s shoulder.

“No one,” Jimin said quickly, clutching the phone to her chest.

The youngest rolled her eyes. “It’s your wife, isn’t it?”

“Leave her alone, Yizhuo,” Aeri called from the kitchen. “Let her pine in peace.”

“I’m not pining,” Jimin protested weakly, earning a chorus of laughter from her members.

She sighed and sent a reply:

“I miss you too. I hope tonight goes well. Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

As soon as she hit send, she placed the phone face down and stared at the ceiling. She wanted to be happy for y/n’s success, to support her as a good partner should, but the ache in her chest made it hard to focus on anything else.

-----

y/n’s phone vibrated, and she grabbed it immediately, her heart racing.

“I miss you too. I hope tonight goes well. Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

She smiled faintly, though the sadness lingered. She wanted to believe those words were enough, but deep down, she knew Jimin was hurting as much as she was.

Her manager’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “y/n, you’re up in five.”

“Right,” she said, slipping her phone into her bag. She adjusted her outfit in the mirror, plastered on a smile, and stepped out onto the stage.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, the energy electric. She waved, smiled, and began her set, her voice flawless as always. But as she sang her holiday ballad, the lyrics hit a little too close to home.

"Your love is the only gift I need..."

The crowd cheered, but her heart ached.

-----

Jimin stayed on the couch long after her phone’s screen dimmed. The dorm was quieter now; Yizhuo had finally stopped singing carols at the top of her lungs, and Aeri had retreated to her room with a mug of mulled wine. Only Minjeong remained, silently scrolling through her phone across the room.

Jimin traced the outline of her phone case absentmindedly. Every fiber of her being wanted to call her girlfriend, to hear her voice and feel close to her in some small way. But she resisted. y/n had a packed schedule, and she didn’t want to add to her stress.

“Jimin-ah,” Minjeong called softly. “Are you okay?”

Jimin blinked and sat up, attempting a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Minjeong said, setting her phone aside. “You’ve been moping all night. It’s Christmas, unnie. You should be happy.”

“I know,” Jimin replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… I was really looking forward to seeing her, you know?”

Minjeong nodded, her expression sympathetic. “I get it. But you’ll see her soon, right? It’s not like she’s gone forever.”

Jimin chuckled dryly. “It feels like it sometimes.”

Minjeong hesitated before offering a suggestion. “Why don’t we go out? There’s still time to catch the lights in Myeongdong. It might help take your mind off things.”

Before Jimin could respond, Aeri poked her head out of her room. “Lights in Myeongdong? I’m in.”

“And I’ll drag Yizhuo if I have to,” Minjeong added with a grin.

Jimin hesitated. The idea of stepping outside into the bustling city streets felt overwhelming, but the thought of sitting in the dorm, wallowing, wasn’t any better.

“Fine,” she said at last, earning a cheer from her members.

The streets of Myeongdong were alive with holiday cheer, the air filled with laughter, chatter, and the scent of roasted chestnuts. Festive lights adorned every building, casting a warm glow over the bustling crowd.

Jimin trailed behind her members, her hands stuffed in her coat pockets. She couldn’t help but compare the scene to the quiet, intimate Christmas she’d imagined spending with y/n.

Aeri suddenly linked arms with her. “You’re not allowed to look sad tonight, okay? We’re going to have fun whether you like it or not.”

Jimin managed a small smile. “I’ll try.”

“Try harder,” Yizhuo teased, tugging on Jimin’s scarf. “You’re killing the vibe.”

They stopped at a vendor selling hotteok, the warm, sugary treats bringing a brief smile to Jimin’s face. As she bit into the crispy pastry, she felt a pang of nostalgia. y/n would’ve loved this.

“Let me guess,” Minjeong said, watching her closely. “You’re thinking about her again.”

Jimin sighed. “I can’t help it. Everything reminds me of her.”

Aeri patted her shoulder. “That’s love for you. But hey, at least you’ve got us tonight. We’re not y/n, but we’re pretty great company.”

“You guys are the best,” Jimin admitted, her smile finally reaching her eyes.

As the night wore on, Jimin started to feel lighter. She even laughed when Yizhuo tripped over a snowbank, scattering her snacks across the pavement. But as they walked back to the dorm, the weight of y/n’s absence settled over her once more.

She stared up at the sky, the stars twinkling like the city lights. “Merry Christmas, my heart,” she whispered, hoping y/n could somehow feel her words.

-----

The dorm was quiet when the girls finally returned from Myeongdong. Aeri and Minjeong were sprawled on the couch, arguing over a Christmas movie to watch, while Yizhuo was humming in the kitchen as she attempted to make hot cocoa.

Jimin kicked off her boots and sank into the armchair, pulling a blanket over herself. Her heart still ached, but the night out with her members had helped dull the sting.

“Unnie, you want hot cocoa?” Yizhuo called from the kitchen.

“No, thanks,” Jimin replied, her voice soft.

“Suit yourself!” Yizhuo sang, returning to her humming.

Jimin closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the warmth of the blanket and the faint chatter of her members lull her into a calm state.

The peace was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Which one of you ordered delivery on Christmas?” Aeri wondered aloud.

“Maybe it’s a fan gift,” Minjeong said as she got up to answer it.

When she opened the door, she froze, her eyes wide.

“Who is it?” Yizhuo called, peeking out of the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping.

Jimin cracked an eye open, curious about the commotion. “What’s going on?”

Minjeong stepped aside, and there, standing in the doorway, was y/n.

Dressed in a chic winter coat and scarf, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, y/n looked slightly winded, as though she’d come straight from the airport, but her smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling as they found Jimin.

“Hi, gorgeous,” y/n said, her voice warm and soft.

Jimin sat up, her blanket falling to the floor. “y/n?”

The room fell silent as the members watched the scene unfold.

y/n stepped inside, setting her bag down. “I couldn’t stay away. I told you I’d move heaven and earth to be here, and I meant it.”

For a moment, Jimin didn’t move. She simply stared, as if she couldn’t believe her girlfriend was really there, she was supposed to be in LA. Then, in an instant, she was on her feet, crossing the room and throwing her arms around y/n with enough force to lift the younger girl.

“You’re here,” Jimin whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re really here.”

y/n hugged her tightly, burying her face in Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

The other members exchanged knowing smiles before quietly slipping out of the room to give them privacy.

They sat together on the couch, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights surrounding them. y/n held Jimin’s hand, her thumb gently brushing over her knuckles.

“How did you manage this?” Jimin asked, still in awe.

y/n chuckled. “It wasn’t easy. I had to rearrange a lot of things and promise a lot of favors. But I couldn’t imagine spending Christmas without you.”

Jimin’s heart swelled, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I missed you so much.”

The younger girl leaned closer, her forehead resting against Jimin’s. “I missed you too… more than words can say.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, lost in each other’s presence. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of their connection.

“Merry Christmas, angel” y/n whispered, her lips brushing against Jimin’s in a tender kiss.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine” Jimin replied, her voice filled with love.

-----

The following morning, the dorm was filled with the smell of pancakes and the sound of laughter. y/n, still in her cozy sweater and pajama pants, was seated at the dining table, watching as Yizhuo and Minjeong bickered over who got to flip the pancakes next. Aeri was perched on the couch, sipping her coffee, smirking at the chaos.

Jimin emerged from her room, her hair tousled and her face glowing with happiness. y/n couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” y/n greeted softly.

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink as she crossed the room, pressing a kiss to y/n’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

The moment was interrupted by Yizhuo’s exasperated voice. “Unnie, tell Minjeong that she’s burning the pancakes!”

Minjeong whirled around, spatula in hand. “I am not! They’re perfectly golden!”

“They’re crispy,” Yizhuo argued, pointing at the edges.

y/n and Jimin laughed as the bickering continued. Aeri rolled her eyes playfully, setting her coffee down, “Some of us want to eat breakfast.”

“Okay, enough,” Jimin said, stepping into the kitchen. “y/n and I will handle breakfast. You two can set the table.”

Minjeong pouted. “But I wanted to—”

“Table. Now,” Jimin said firmly, though her tone was light.

y/n joined her at the stove, the two of them working in perfect harmony as they flipped pancakes and prepared the rest of the meal. Every so often, y/n would steal a glance at Jimin, her heart full of gratitude.

When breakfast was finally ready, they all gathered around the table, their plates piled high with pancakes, fruit, and syrup. The sound of laughter and clinking forks filled the air as they enjoyed the meal together.

At one point, Yizhuo raised her glass of orange juice. “To y/n, for making our Christmas extra special and stopping Jimin-unnie from rotting on the couch!”

The others joined in, raising their glasses. “To y/n!”

y/n blushed, glancing at Jimin, who gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” y/n said softly. “But really, I’m just glad to be here with all of you.”

The rest of the day was spent exchanging gifts, watching holiday movies, and playing games. y/n fit right in, her laughter blending seamlessly with the others’. Jimin couldn’t stop smiling, her heart swelling with happiness at having y/n by her side.

As the day turned to evening, y/n and Jimin found themselves alone on the balcony, wrapped in blankets as they watched the snow fall.

“This is perfect,” Jimin murmured, leaning her head on y/n’s shoulder.

y/n kissed the top of her head. “It really is. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

Jimin looked up at her, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you for coming. For everything.”

y/n cupped her face, her thumb brushing against Jimin’s cheek. “I’d do it all over again, a thousand times, just to be here with you.”

Their lips met in a kiss, sweet and full of promise. As the snow continued to fall, the world felt warm, their hearts beating as one.

____________________

A/N: Happy holidays!

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yuurei20 · 2 days ago

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"Vil has possibly never acknowledged having friends, or even school friends." I'm confused. Are you talking in that one event or in general? If it's the latter...what? Vil has said that Jack is his childhood best friend, and seems to be friendly with Rook, possibly seeing him as one. That statement contradicts the canon.

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 👑🐺

I have not been able to find a line of Vil calling Jack his childhood best friend ("best friend" itself seems to be a word that has only been used four times in the whole game!), but if you happen to have a chapter or screenshot it would be very much appreciated! Always happy to update with the most accurate information m(_ _)m

The closest I was able to find is Vil's ceremonial robes vignette where he refers to himself and Jack as "同郷のよしみ," but in this case the word "friend" might be oversimplifying the nuance of what he is actually saying: Vil is acknowledging that they have something in common--their hometown--without referring to Jack as his friend! He is acknowledging their pre-existing connection without implying friendship or an emotional bond.

EN chose to go with "old friend" for this particular line, but it is not uncommon for EN to introduce the word "friend" into dialogue where it does not exist, which is why this series is based on content from the original game rather than the adaptation :> English adaptations will often simplify nuances for accessibility!

EN uses the word "countryman" earlier in this conversation, which I think is a perfect interpretation ♪

The realization of how very rarely anyone actually says "friend" (and Yana's interview where she says that the theme of the game is making problem children get along with one another) was the inspiration for this series!

Malleus, for example, has never referred to the prefect as his friend, but the word was not only added to his EN dialogue but the word "human" was replaced with "acquaintance"!

Between Halloween Year 1 and Halloween Year 3 Malleus promotes the prefect from "acquaintance" to "friend" in relationship development that hasn't actually happened in canon! Which I find fascinating ^^ The EN game really is its own unique experience!

Returning to Vil: he does seem to be friendly with Rook, but he has never actually said out loud that they are friends!

This does not mean that they are not actually friends, but refusing to acknowledge friendship aloud is also a theme:

Ace seems to be friendly with the prefect, for example, going to Ramshackle alone late at night so that they can watch horror movies together, but when others comment on how they are friends he will deny it 📝

Ace: "We're just in the same class. You don't have to read anything into it!"

It has been very interesting to track which characters seem adverse to the concept of friendship and which are not--are things building up to a climactic moment where characters like Malleus, Vil and Ace actually do admit that they have friends?

(In a mirror image of Ace we have Deuce, who is one of the only four people who have ever said "best friend" 👀📝)

I am certain to check new content as it releases for examples of anyone saying "friend" aloud and am updating this information as the characters evolve ^^

Am very excited to see if there will be character development and/or plot points in the future where the characters finally do refer to one another as friends!

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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syoddeye · 21 hours ago

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the warren, part nine - misunderstanding

price x f!reader | 3k words | series page | ao3 tags: implied/reference suicide attempt, implied/referenced abduction/captivity, gaslighting, stalking, taxidermy mention, pov multiple, italics flashback a/n: you know what you saw. ...right? 🔪

The suit fiddles with the gift, his disgust evident.

Price will be happy, he thinks, cheeks smarting from all his grinning. He's a dog with two tails.

The stranger disappears into the motel, and he puts his nose to the ground. There are only so many places she could be. He twirls the keys, perfectly at ease. Rabbits are on their own during hunts, whereas he's got his fellow dogs. All it takes are a few cheerful inquiries for him to end up at the library.

Brave thing. Smart thing.

He knew it. Pride warms him as he lopes through the doors, taking in the place. It's grand. Temple to knowledge and all that. He hasn't set foot inside in years. It was one of the first solo errands he ran for Price, way back when–

He staggers, pressing a hand to his temple as pain splits through his skull. It's sudden, the strike of an icepick, and his whole body reacts—muscles seizing, limbs tightening as though he's been thrown into freezing water. But then, just as swiftly, it dissolves, leaving behind a light fog.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Sir.

The address cleaves through the mist.

Been ages since anyone's called him that. He rubs the ridge of his scar and beams, taking in the peculiar woman and her many bracelets. "No, I dinnae think ye can. Just browsing."

He drops the smile once she totters off, tilting his nose a little to catch the scent of John's doe. Syringa and prickly rose, same as her soap. If he licked her teeth, he knows he'd taste the mild mint from her toothbrush, too. Instead, he pretends to browse, nostrils flaring as he filters out the tang of glue and lignin decay, tracing her steps to a secluded corner.

Through the stacks, he watches her lean over some oversized machine. John's doe is clever. He called it. All those books and writings and not investigating all that terrible racket he made. Clever, clever.

He tongues his canines in thought. Interrupting would be awkward. She'd ask questions, and he's on strict orders to keep it simple. There's no sense trying to coax her out now. He retreats, content to loiter outside. It's a long walk back.

"Soap?"

He turns, the sound of his name like fingers threading through his hair. He arranges his face into surprise and delight, but his attention shifts, quickly and completely, to her. There's a twitchiness, a strain in the line between her eyebrows.

"Bonnie! Fancy seeing ye here."

"What are you doing here?"

"Could ask ye the same thing. I was just retrieving supplies for Simon. Predicting an uptick in business with the big game season open."

"That makes sense." She smiles tight again, and nods. "Well. I ought to head back–"

"Where's John? He not with ye?"

He reckons that if she had the right ears, they'd flatten to her head. Friendly fella like himself, but she still shrinks to a degree. Polite, even when she's stiff. Knows better than to let her guard down. Like he told them. Smart.

"Uh, no," She shrugs like it's nothing. "I walked here. From Grouse."

He whistles. "No…you didn't!" He already knew that. "Hell of a jaunt, bonnie. Aren't you sore? Tired?"

"A little," She admits, her expression finally softening. "I used to have to walk into town where I lived before, too, but I like walking."

"Clearly," Hopefully, she remains smart. She's not like he was. She knows what's good for her. "C'mon. I'm taking you back."

It doesn't take much to convince her when he harps on the distance, the weather. She follows him into the truck, the volume of the tape deck making her jump when the engine roars to life. He dangles an arm out the window, feeding off the glaring tourists on the street. He takes the longer route out of town to roll past the Patridge, then nearly slams on the brakes.

Ahead of them, it's him. The suit. That handsome bastard, face pointed at his phone. The novelty of their little welcome gift must've already worn off. His fingers drum impatiently on the wheel, and he steals a glance at his passenger. She's watching the stranger, too.

When the man reaches the other side, he looks back, double-takes, and stares. His gaze shifts between them, brows knitting behind his aviators. Beside him, she opens her mouth to speak, so he lays his foot on the gas, stares straight ahead, and peels out of town.

~~~~

The truck reeks. Cigarette smoke and wet dog clings to the sun-bleached fabric seats, and through the rear window, sharp bursts of acetone and the sour tang of formaldehyde drift in. The seats are pockmarked with cigarette burns and patch jobs. The floor caked in cracked mud, ground-in dirt, and pine needles. A heap of worn cassettes in the center console.

You slowly turn down the volume, shooting him a nervous smile. You're still reeling from what you saw at the library. For all his oddities, Soap feels like a tether—an outsider like you, or at least someone who once stood where you stand now, and far more approachable than Nikolai or Simon. You'll ask John, too, but something about Soap just feels more…open.

"So…Soap. We haven't spoken since the Fourth. How have you been?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "Really? I'm fine. Workin' hard, playin' harder." His eyes flick to you, a fleeting look before he shifts focus back to the road. "And you? Heard rumors you might stick around after the season's over. True?"

You wonder how many ears John has whispered his hopes into. "No comment," you say, then quickly add, "How long have you lived here again?"

He shrugs. "Years, I reckon. I'm bad with time."

"John mentioned you worked at the store, too." You watch him closely. "He said your stint was short-lived."

"Aye, I did and it was. Not cut out for workin' with so many people."

You force a soft laugh. "I find that hard to believe. He said you were a bit of a flirt, though, that Simon swept you off your feet. True?"

Soap's smile falters, and he looks out his window. The silence hangs long enough to feel pointed. Then he glances back, sidelong, expression almost stern. "You a reporter now, bonnie? Askin' a lot of questions."

You're dancing around it, the photo, the snag you feel yourself unraveling around, and although you're trying to keep things light, it's obvious Soap's caught on. "I just want to get to know you better. I spend all my time with John, which is fine, but you're his friend, right? And if there's a chance I'll stick around through the winter, I ought to get to know everyone better."

He raises a brow. "Even Simon?"

Right. They're a package deal. "Even Simon."

"Then it's only fair that I get to ask questions too, right?"

"Oh, um, yeah. Of course."

"Then what's eating you? You looked ill when I caught you outside the library. Like you'd seen a ghost."

Your mouth opens, the words pushing to the front and failing to organize themselves. A small stampede. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about something. It's going to sound insane." You hesitate, but he doesn't interrupt, so you open the gates. "I was curious. About local history, the mines and stuff. My hus—I used to be familiar with the business. So, I was looking through old newspapers at the library, just to see what I could find, and there was this photo, from decades ago, of a group of miners who survived a huge fire. One of them looked exactly like Alex. I think it was Alex."

"Alex." Soap repeats. "Ye dinnae say?"

"Yes. Do you know him? Works at The Echo? I'm positive it was him."

"I know him." He grins, bemused. "I think you're seeing things. Not close with the man, but he's not that old." He chuckles softly. "Could be his grandad or something."

You try to laugh along, but it catches. "I…I know what I saw, Soap. It wasn't a lookalike. It was him —exactly him. I know that sounds crazy. That would make him, like eighty? Ninety?"

Soap checks the rearview, then guides the truck to the shoulder. He faces you, his broad frame pressing against the worn seat. "Aye, maybe," he speaks slower than before. Careful. "But ye ken, sometimes our minds play tricks. Price...He might've mentioned you've been sleeping poorly."

You blink, thrown. Sure, small towns gossip. Let every clucking hen share theories about your circumstances—but John? You had no idea he even knew about your worsening sleep. You hadn't told him about the nightmares, or woke him.

Soap continues. "Bad dreams, tossing and turning…early mornings. When did ye wake up today, bonnie? When did ye hit the road?"

You begin to answer, then stop. It's as if now that he's pointed that out, exhaustion creeps in, and alongside it, doubt. Could it really be a coincidence? Your tired brain misfiring?

"I'm not tired." You say more to yourself than to him, blinking. "I know what I saw."

There's a flash of pity. "Alright, bonnie. If you say so." He pulls the truck back onto the road. "But I think John's working you too hard."

He doesn't believe you. Disappointing, but not surprising. What you're implying is absurd. So you bite your tongue and feign agreement. "Maybe you're right."

The conversation peters off, leaving the sound of the tires on the road. You'll have to ask John now, otherwise, Soap will beat you to it.

You stare at the passing trees, and it feels as if your mind is slipping, one treacherous inch at a time. You want to believe it's the creep of exhaustion, the stress of being on the run, because for all your comforts, that is what you are doing here. Yet, even as the excuses form, they dissolve, because you know what you saw.

The photograph is not something you can forget. You think of the man in Ponderosa, behind the counter at the diner, smiling ear to ear, asking about the cats at the cabin. And then the exact same man, covered in dust and dirt, happy to be alive. It doesn't make sense, and the pit forming in your stomach deepens.

Soap's words circle back. I think you're seeing things. You're sleeping poorly. It's true, isn't it? You haven't slept well for weeks. Months, really, not since you left your husband. Not since you started driving north, stopping in towns where no one knew your name. Sleeping as little as possible, waking up before dawn, like you're always outrunning something. The way the woods press in at night, the noises, the dark—a perfect storm for the kind of thoughts that keep you awake. The scratching. The eyes. It's easier to believe you're imagining it all.

Your thoughts split in two. You know what you saw. Except, maybe you don't.

That's what scares you. If you believe it, you know how it will sound. How it will look.

You glance at Soap out of the corner of your eye. One hand on the wheel, cradling and rubbing his head with the other. Now, he probably thinks you're just a jittery, paranoid woman who's been through too much. Maybe you are. If you're wrong about this and really are losing your grip, what else have you been wrong about?

"Soap," your voice cracks slightly. "What if…" You trail off, not even sure how to finish the question. What if you're not crazy? What if you are? The doubt is a splinter, buried deep and bound to fester. You already know that no matter how much you try to convince yourself it's nothing, you can't.

"Nevermind."

~~~~

Her head must be spinning. He knows what that's like.

She doesn't get out of the car right away when they stop. Her smile's bent in a brittle shape, and she places a tentative hand on his arm.

"Thanks for listening to my ramblings. You're a good friend."

Oh, how he wants to correct her.

There was once a man with his face, his body, a name—but that isn't him. Not anymore. John and Simon saved him from that, or they tried to. Fixed him when he didn't deserve fixing. He'd been so selfish.

Some days, he tastes the metal on the back of his tongue. Hears the gunshot, sees the flash. His favorite memories are those months spent in the mounting room, stretched out, recovering on the cot. All the fussing, the tenderness Simon showed him, even though it came from a place he hasn't been able to reach since. No. The weeks that followed, when he could move, fastened to the hutch, reminded of his place again. He wished those memories had vanished instead. His head's a minefield. Gaps, holes. Pits, great and small, with nonexistent or false bottoms

But he has a modicum of sense left, so he swallows the lump in his throat. "Like ye said. I'm your friend."

He returns her wave when she pauses at the shop door.

Am I?

He rides the accelerator all the way home.

"Simon! Simon!"

Slaughter and the Dogs drowns him out, but he barrels through the workshop anyway, feet pounding the floor. The door to the mounting room is ajar, so he jams his hand inside to turn the volume down, stepping in just as Simon looks up. In the lowlight and shadows, Simon's shoulders look like a snow-capped ridge, scars tracing the curve of his muscles like weathered timberlines. The air holds a scent of sweat and hide paste. An acquired taste. Intoxicating. Normally, he'd grovel, fall to his knees to nose between the thighs wedged under the steel table, but there's no room for hesitation. No time to indulge the usual knots twisting in his chest.

"I dinnae ken how, but I think she's onto Alex. She saw some picture at the library. I–I think I talked her down, but..."

The news hangs, then Simon exhales sharply, the paper mask fluttering over his mouth and nose. He stands, abandoning his work with the bolting buck's pinnae, its slate eyes wide, frozen mid-flight, and peels off his stained leather apron.

"You tell Price?"

His tongue fattens with every step his man takes. Has to force it out. "No. I only just delivered her to him, I didn't have a chance–"

"Mm," Simon grunts disapprovingly, reaching past him for the towel on the hook. He wipes his brow, pausing to press it to his mask and inhale. "Thought you liked her."

"I-I do! She's nice to me."

Simon snorts and tugs his hair with his free hand. "Well, you've shortened her lifespan. If she asks 'im, which she will, no tellin' 'ow 'e'll react. Remember the last girl?"

His head throbs. The scent of blood on gravel, salt and metal, reaching forward in time. He gawks, horrified.

The hand pulling his hair flattens, cups his skull. Strokes. "She'll be alright," Simon mutters. Soothing, but not quite. "Price thinks she's the one. It'll take more than a few questions to make 'im do somethin' stupid."

He wants to believe him, always, but the last girl—well, Price thought she was the one, too.

And they all paid for that mistake.

~~~~

The stranger arrived after a long, unsuccessful week away. Just at the right time. A balm for John's bruised pride.

He loathes the days he leaves his range. He hates the cities to the south and the backwater latrines up north. He loathes that his needs require travel and discretion these days, for him to prowl territory where no one knows him and his authority's nonexistent. He relies on the weight of his influence, his power. The decades of blood, of dirty and thankless work, of blessings and curses, of folklore and superstition. The rabble who grew up at their parent's and grandparent's feet listening to stories about the men eaten and spat back out by the mountain.

He likes the wary. The watchful.

More than that, he likes the overlooked and the desperate. People starved for attention in any form. People with nowhere else to go. Both groups careless with where they go looking for belonging.

Most times that place is the dingiest bar in a shithole town. A truck stop. The edge of the highway.

Sometimes that place is his general store.

John weeds out the characters that don't fit the bill. No families. No groups. He's tried couples, when one or the other's to his liking, but their residencies stir up too many questions. Individuals? Now, much better. Individuals like the man in his shop. Scuffed, secondhand gear and a ratty pack. An overgrown haircut and beard. Wild, sleep-worn eyes heavy with bags. He's seen dogs with mange look better than the specimen stalking his shelves.

"This it?" He stares at the man's selection: a single beer, a pack of pencils, and a cheap razor.

"Aye. That's it."

The brogue, thick and unmistakable, wraps around the words and John decides then and there. He holds the man's eyes, a shock of blue, more striking than his own. "You're a long way from home."

"Could say the same to ye," The man laughs, fishing out a wad of crumpled bills and some coin. The billfold looks as worn as his clothes, edges fraying, stuffed with two other currencies.

"Looks like you've been around," John sorts the coin by feel. "What brings you here?" He leans on that word, here. It's a habit now, sizing people up. Most tourists are easy to place—locals from a few towns or the next state over. But every so often, someone like this turns up, someone from further afield. It's usually a sign. Fish nibbling at bait on one of the hooks he's cast.

"Just going where my thumb takes me. I'm spending the next three, four months in America. Left tracks all over already, but someone told me the camping's good up this way. Figure I'll make my way to Seattle, then through to the Yukon."

"Somebody waiting for you up there?"

The stranger's smile is wide and reckless. Toothy, sharp. "Nah, that's the beauty of it. Free as a bird. No strings, nowhere."

John returns the smile, feeling that rotten thing in his chest stir, stretching awake, licking its chops. It's always hungry, always ready for a reason. The man's candor is laughable, he's tying the snare around his own neck. John looks him over again, considering. It's probably a bit of both, he decides. Starved for attention and just dumb enough to show it. Typical rabbit.

However, there's the matter of the shit he's stolen.

John chuckles along with the stranger, but his hand moves without hesitation, wrapping around the sagging strap of the backpack and giving it a tug. He stares down his nose. The man's smile vanishes, fast as a light switching off.

"Son, I'm gonna need you to empty your bag."

Outside, as if on cue, Simon rolls into the lot, and John watches the man's posture stiffen at the sight of the hulking mass climbing off the dirt bike.

"You don't want him to empty it." John warns.

It's almost dizzying how quickly he complies, dumping the contents onto the counter: mostly food, a folding knife, and a bar of soap. The door chimes behind him, and John picks up the soap, turning it over in his hand, his eyebrows raised in silent accusation.

"Am I interruptin'?"

Simon stands in the doorway, helmet under one arm, already fixed on the man. His chest rises and falls like bellows, his gnarled lip curling in that way John knows too well. Interest. Blood in the water.

The stranger isn't small, not by any measure. Solid, broad through the shoulders and arms, though he's hunching slightly, an instinct to look bigger. A meal trying to pass for something harder to swallow, and isn't that the way with those lower on the food chain?

But he's not stupid. He sees the man for what he is now that his right hand's here. He's just Simon's type. All he needs is a shave.

"Not at all. I'm clearing up a misunderstandin' with…"

The man clears his throat, eyes still locked on Simon. His voice steady, but barely. "John. John MacTavish."

Simon's chuffs. John cracks the bar of soap.

Another decision made, then.

~~~~

Kyle can spot trouble a mile away. He sees the ills of the world and the way violence threads through things and stitches them together. Why people do what they do, the multitude of factors and reasons—it's all straightforward in his head. In the real world, though, nothing is. Cases don't wrap up neatly, they unravel. Leads dry up. Witnesses clam up. Evidence falls short or gets thrown out, and he has to move on, whether he likes it or not.

He tells himself it's necessary. That there's too much evil in the world to fixate on just one piece of it. But moving on doesn't mean letting go. The frustration festers. The urge to kick in doors, to pull people out of the mess they're in, to handle those responsible the way no court ever will—it simmers under his skin, a wire fraying at the edges.

But there are rules. Policies. A whole bloody process he's meant to respect and follow. So when he spots some wild-eyed man ferrying around a woman who looks like the unnamed witness he's searching for, he memorizes the plates, sends them in, and waits.

His stomach rumbles. His choices are slim on that front, too.

In the corner of the café, Kyle scrolls through the scanned posters on his phone. Missing persons, runaways, and other BOLOs from the local precincts. Shepherd had theatrically dropped the files on his desk, handing over Graves's case like it was a poisoned chalice.

Shepherd warned him nothing was digitized, leaving him to do it all. The batch of missing persons spanning decades hadn't been touched in years, he added, like it was some kind of badge of honor for the region. Called the area a breeding ground for bad shit, nearly spitting the words out. A place no one actually wanted anything solved, not in what he described as an inland Bermuda Triangle carved into the panhandle.

The old man expounded about the violent, standoffish types who called Grouse Bay, Ponderosa, and the surrounding area home. The kind of people who'd rather shoot you than admit what they ate for breakfast. Then, with a final slap of the files, Shepherd wished him luck—luck with the missing, the answers he'd likely never find, and the colleague who'd managed to disappear right along with them.

It's clear to him that he's not actually expected to solve a thing. He's supposed to find whatever mess Graves had gotten into, yank him out, and clean him up.

To do that, he had to find him, and that smarmy bastard seems intent on staying lost.

#the warren #price x reader #john price x reader #price x f!reader #john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x f!reader

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1think1twasvodk4 · 3 days ago

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I REALIZED SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY INSANE ABOUT THE SHOW ‘PANTHEON’ (THE AMC ONE)

And it hit me as I was re-listening to EPIC: The Musical.

When I was watching Pantheon I found the Caspian/Maddie relationship kinda weird but now I get it:

THEY REPRESENT ODYSSEUS AND PENELOPE.

CASPIAN WAS GONE FOR 20 YEARS. 20! RING A BELL?

THEIR SON DAVE GREW UP WITHOUT HIM, HE ONLY HEARD STORIES ABOUT HIM, JUST LIKE TELEMACHUS.

MADDIE WAITED FOR HIM, DEEP DOWN.

WHEN CASPIAN GOT BACK, IT WAS NO LONGER HIM. (epic reference 😼)

AND CASPIAN IS VERY SIMILAR TO ODYSSEUS. LIKE FOR EXAMPLE HE’S ALSO A WARRIOR OF THE MIND. 😼

And the whole point of the show title ‘Pantheon’ is to make us question whether we are really capable of becoming gods.

There are so many references to gods in the show.

In the opening and also final scene, when Maddie is sitting in a classroom, as the final line the teacher say this,

“-Family Feud escalates into violent power struggle between a Pantheon of supreme beings and their offspring. A new world is created in the aftermath.”

which references to what happened in the show and compares human history with the stories of gods.

At first, Maddie and Caspian were just ‘mortals’ in the story. Just like Ody and Penelope. (unless Caspian had to become the monster👹😼)

So what I’m saying is that the Odyssey reference in Pantheon is actually quite realistic since there were many other mythology references in the show.

Now I beg you editors please edit Pantheon with EPIC songs.

Not to mention the song “Man or a monster” by Sam Tinnesz was playing in a Capsian scene in season 1.

Thank you for your attention and MERRY CHRISTMAS.

#epic the musical #epic odysseus #epic ithaca saga #epic the vengeance saga #odysseus #the odyssey #pantheon amc #pantheon show #pantheon spoilers #greek pantheon #caspian keyes #maddie kim #like woah #ok bye #merry christmas

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steamberrystudio · 11 hours ago

Text

2024 wrap-up and 2025 plans

It's been a really weird year for me and the last few months have been particularly challenging - so much so that I can't really remember much of the start of the year. There's been a lot that has happened and yet it feels like almost nothing has happened.

With a personal move in the works at the moment, and lots of lists and packing and cleaning, the last couple of weeks have felt like a blur of limbo as well.

But rather than just complaining let's jump into the wrap up and plans for 2025.

2024 Progress Wrap up

When looking back over a year of visual novel development, it can be really easy to forget progress and victories because it all smears together into an indistinct timeline.

You know stuff happened but you lose sight of the details of that stuff.

Even while writing this last night, I forgot that A Faerie's Tale was something completed and released this year. I remembered it just now while doing a final proofread of this post.

Development is such a long and repetitive process that you forget all the individual steps it took to get where you are. When I look back over 2024, I admit I feel like I somehow didn't do that much...that time slipped away while I did very little actual work.

And of course, that isn't true. (Or is it?? Self-doubt assures me that I didn't do anything noteworthy this year.)

When Stars Collide

At the start of 2024, When Stars Collide sat at 485,000 words. I was finishing up editing Asher's route but had portions of the other routes to draft. The UI was still the old design, most of the backgrounds were incomplete and none of the additional features like the flowcharts and affinity meters were set up.

I wanted to release an updated demo and the more new people told me they were playing the demo, the more I died inside because it was not at all reflective of the project any more. But I was missing critical backgrounds that I actually got only a few weeks before Episode 1 went to beta.

The point is that back at the start of 2024 the game was still very unfinished but I had big plans. My goal was originally to start releasing episodes in June of 2024 but editing and coding just took so much longer than expected that it just wasn't possible.

From a writing perspective, I learned that drafting and editing a game in this overlapping route style was hard. It was just genuinely so much more difficult than the separate route structure I'm used to. It really requires different processes and styles of planning than what I've done in the past. The burden of meticulously matching a timeline of events across 6 routes simultaneously is really tricky with the way I write and form the choices in my games.

You kind of have to either never refer back to anything that happens within a choice scenario or you have to remember and track a lot of variables and conversations and events. Additionally, writing one plot line from multiple relationship perspectives is actually quite tricky. Things have to align in very specific ways but you also kind of want to make sure that each play through is interesting. You don't want the conversations within the LI-specific content to be identical but they have to be similar enough you can manage the difference with a few key variables.

I honestly found it a really exhausting way to write. There's so much less complexity and so much more freedom when you are writing separate routes. And for that reason, the writing took a lot longer than I am used to.

One day I want to write up all my thoughts on route structure in visual novels but I haven't had time yet.

Ultimately I drafted about 172,000 words this year. The total word count of the game before I coded it was around 657,000 words - plus an additional 8-10k or so of bonus content. Of course, that shrinks when I code it but that was the total uncoded word count. So that is quite a jump from the 485,000 words I started with this year.

I always say that working on VNs really skews your view of what "a lot" of words is. To me, as weird as it is to say, 180k doesn't feel like that much writing, which is silly because it's like writing two YA novels.

But between the end of the Kickstarter for Gilded Shadows and the end of that year, I think I wrote about 250,000 words. That's 70,000 more words but in less time. I think it just shows how much more difficult writing WSC has been due to the structure of the routes.

I remember having a conversation with someone once where she told me that writing a game like Gilded Shadows is *definitely* harder and more work than writing a game like When Stars Collide. GS has multiple plots and a lot more words. In WSC, the routes share a plot, they share scenes and content, there's only one plot line and there are far fewer words.

I think it really underestimates the simplicity buff and the freedom buff that you get from having a single separate route in its own space time where you don't have to care as heavily about continuity across routes or a shared timeline of events or all of this other stuff that was such a burden to me when writing overlapping routes.

I maintain that I'm really glad I wrote When Stars Collide the way I did. I learned so much about game structure and choices and all this mechanical stuff about how visual novels work that I'd never really had to think about for. It was really, really enlightening.

But I will never do this game structure again. Lemme just say that.

Drafting aside, I had to also edit all that writing which was its own special layer of hell.

And then the art. The art has been enjoyable. I really love this game's aesthetic and the character designs. And the characters. I really enjoy them all so much. They are the most adorable crew of nerdy gremlins out there.

But the art has had is own challenges. I've done about 20 CGs for the game so far and a lot of them are easy enough but the colour slider MC is definitely a bit of a challenge for the CGs. With GS where I recoloured by hand, there were times that I had to slightly tweak Morgan's default colours to look good in CGs. For instance, one of her skin tones looked quite odd next to Magnus, who is very pink. And I had to just slightly tweak that skin tone in his CGs so they looked okay together side by side. It was easy to test that sort of thing before the CG even got into the game.

But I colour Wil in greyscale and I don't see them in colour until I test. And each colour available on the slider is represented by a number. And there are essentially 100 of them. So testing all of those isn't really viable. I do test multiple skin tones from my saves. But in some ways it's more cumbersome to make sure all of that looks good.

Wil also has 8 hairstyles…in two colours (which are recoloured manually because a couple of the hairstyles just don't really looks as good recoloured automatically (it's my art, not the dynamic colour slider tool).

It's a lot of work. Hair 5 usually puts my hand out of commission for the rest of the day (so I save it for last. Ha ha). I don't regret it and again, it's something I wanted to to do as an experiment. I knew that 5 hairstyles was probably manageable and 8 was definitely pushing and I was right so no hard lessons really learned there. It's sometimes valuable experience to push yourself right to that line and really see where the division between "feasible" and "too much" really is. Because then it's no longer hypothetical. You know where the line is.

A lot of how WSC is set up was me testing if the line was where I thought it was.

Beyond the art, I also got all the other new features set up and experimented with a few things I hadn't been planning on. Many of those features had the core elements set up and coded by wonderful programmer friends and colleagues (Feniks and Windchimes and Jeneara) but I still had to implement all those things in the code to make them function as part of the game.

Which, for things like the flowcharts - is time consuming. Flowcharts are like that.

The flowcharts in WSC use a different method than the ones in GS. It's a brand new tool and I'm still learning how to use it but there are also some kinks that rear their heads (not those kind, you guys! The annoying kind that break the game!)

I think the feature most people are most excited about would be the save screen. It's quite popular. Ha ha.

With all of that stuff done, I was able to finally….*finally* release the official version of Episode 1 to Patreon and on Itch.

And I released Episode 2 (minus two CGs that have been delayed by an abrupt move to a new place and me just not having time to draw right now) to Patrons in early access. (and the Itch version should go out mid-January. I hope).

So the point is…that is actually a fair amount of work that has taken place this year. And a lot of challenges that have been met and overcome.

A Faerie's Tale

Another thing I did this year was finish and release A Faerie's Tale as part of Amare Fest and with a team of friends to help out.

AFT is a concept I've had since about 2020 (prior to WSC actually). It was based on a dream I had as was always meant to be a cute little side project. But it kind of fell by the wayside in favour of my larger projects.

Being able to get it released was definitely fun. Jen and I definitely want to go back to it and release Lachan's route though - it was something we didn't have time for previously and it would be nice to get it truly complete.

Thornewood

And while I haven't specifically mentioned it anywhere outside of my server and Patreon...

The truth is...

I've secretly been planning my next project. But not really all that secretly since I have mentioned it a few times.

I've been torn, for a while, on two projects I'd like to tackle. One is called The Crown Wheel and the other is called (tentatively) Thornewood. I still go back and forth over which one I really want to do next.

Crown Wheel is the one I *really* want to get out there. It's another story that's close to my heart with some ancient characters of mine that I really love and would love to throw out there for other people to enjoy. But…

Thornewood is a bit more solid a project when it comes to planning and plot. Crown Wheel is a little more nebulous in terms of where the story would go. I'm getting side tracked…I'll get into this more in my 2025 plans.

I have not been working on any other project regularly or in any truly significant way. I've really been working on outlines and character profiles more than anything and I typically do it late at night when I can't sleep but can't draw any more because I'm resting for the day and while I just don't want to be working on WSC because I worked on it all day.

I think I have about 13000 words of outline. I did a rough summary of each route and have been trying to expand those and detail them out a little bit more. So technically that is work I've done this year too.

2024 still somehow feels like a weird year for development. I can't articulate why but it definitely was an odd year for sure.

So What are my 2025 Plans?

That's really the big question at this point. What is in store for Steamberry Studio?

First and foremost, the plan is to get When Stars Collide fully released. This isn't as straightforward as it seems though. With the writing complete, I'm focused on the coding and art, but...

Coding expressions is currently a bit tedious because there have been a ton of group scenes in this game so far. This is because it is somewhat of a 'closed set' so when you are not 1x1 with a love interest…you tend to be with a group. This will diminish in upcoming chapters as the plot kicks off more and you also get longer scenes with the love interests. But unfortunately it does come back in the last few chapters.

But for now I'm looking forward to heading into parts of the game that are more 1x1 or at least smaller groups at a time.

Additionally the CG situation has been somewhat up in the air for me. I was originally planning to do CGs in every chapter but I wasn't sure if that would a) be sustainable for me and b) make sense.

I suspected that there would be chapters coming up where there just weren't necessarily any good CG moments. So the "CGs in every chapter" thing was always going to be a bit squishy.

I know, for instance, that chapter 6 probably won't have any because there aren't any good moments for it to be honest?

Anyway. I am thinking that I may take a less formulaic approach to CGs and focus on making sure there are CGs in every episode if not every chapter. Maybe chapters 5, 8, 10...and then...Idk. One or two of the ending chapters.

Even if it's just four of the remaining chapters, that's still 24 more illustrations for the game. Which I feel like is a very reasonable amount considering there are already about 20.

Another thing I'm really going back and forth on is the nature of episodes moving forward.

Do I want to continue with 2 chapters per episode or do I want to drop to 1 chapter per episode? I battle myself on this all the time. It's such a hard call for me.

One challenge with moving into single chapter episodes is that I just feel the episodes would be less satisfying with only one chapter. Realistically the chapters aren't that small - even the short ones are more than 30,000 words each. That's...half a YA novel.

But, again, *realistically* when we reduce that to a play time, it's not that much.

People consume unvoiced visual novels at a rate of about 250 words per minute. That means 15,000 words per hour.

So 30k is just two hours of content. When you start dividing this up between "main plot" and "LI route content", you start whittling away at how much content *per character* there is. If there are 20,000 words of "LI content" - yeah, that's more than half the chapter. But that gets divided by 6 characters. And that means 13 minutes of playable content *including all the choices* for each character which isn't a lot. And most people are not going to play through every choice option.

Which means people could be getting through the unique content for their favourite character in less than 10 minutes.

By combining chapters, that means we get episodes that are 70,000 words or 90,000 words. It boosts the amount of content per character by a significant amount and that is really what I'm looking at when I consider episode layout.

I try to think about what is going to make for the most satisfying episode for players. The drawback of 2 chapters per episode is that it's…a lot. It's a lot of expressions. It's a lot of flowchart work.

It just takes more time.

Regardless of whether it's just 1 chapter at a time or whether it's 2 chapters at a time, I really want to move forward with steady releases and get the game fully released to players in 2025. That is obviously my primary focus going forward.

The story is finished. It's burning a hole in my laptop. (Not really). But I want to get it released.

Having the story already written but delivering it in smaller bites to players is doing a lot to save my drawing hand from inevitable doom but it's so hard for me mentally. I know the things coming up in future episodes and I'm so keen to release it and see reactions and talk to people about it. And it's just so difficult to not be able to do that as fast as I want.

I'm trying to be patient and I hope all of you are willing to be patient with me.

In other work…

I will likely continue to plan out my next game on the side, though I don't intend to start working on it or writing it until WSC completes. It's too hard to manage two projects like that - at least for me - most of the time.

When it comes to Thornewood (the most likely contender for 'next project'), it is a 'dark fantasy' in that the setting is gritty and grimy fantasy with an underlying darkness in the world. It's not really a dark romance though.

I always view dark fantasy as including settings where the darkness comes from outside the main character interactions. The setting is dark and the stories have danger and darkness....

But dark romance is when the relationships themselves are also dark. And I feel like I don't really write dark romance. I don't write perfect relationships either but I wouldn't describe them as 'dark' by any stretch.

Either way I'm looking forward to working on something more overtly fantasy again.

I've been dabbling in science fiction for a long time now (since 2019 - that's when I started Gilded Shadows!!) and I've been wanting to move back into fantasy settings for a while now.

Even just working on the profiles and outlines and world building for fantasy projects, it feels like the Fae and the magic are calling me back home. So I'm really eager to wrap up WSC and bury myself in a more fantasy themed setting again.

But I have a long journey to get to that point.

There's a lot to do in 2025 and I still have a lot of stories to tell.

I hope you will all be here with me for the journey.

#whenstarscollide #game development #indie otome game #amare game

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hiwelcometothemonstersancturary · 2 days ago

Note

What is the first Christmas outside of the factory like for the toys? Do they celebrate it?

Normalcy and other weird things you never heard about

Hiiii! Decided to write something short for this one. I'll be working on all the other Christmas stuff possibly tomorrow! Thanks for the ask, Anon!

As always: 2nd person POV because Angel refers to themself as "you" instead of "me". Also not as always, but this isn't proofread!

"This is weird".

Bunzo holds the comically large Santa Claus hat, wriggling it around. You carefully grab a few extra chocolate boxes to put on your already full cart. "Why?", you ask the bunny as he almost hits his head against another person's legs. "Eyes on front, not the floor!"

"Why would anyone believe a single guy can give presents to all the kids in the world?"

"Parents tell their kids that so they can have more fun during Christmas time", you respond, stopping the cart to now realize you forgot the milk. Again. "To have some magic, I guess".

"Kids are dumb", Bunzo then tries the hat on, ignoring the price tag clashing against his head.

"You are a kid".

You chuckle at his indignant expression before being surprised by a pair of comically long yellow arms. Ollie emerges from the other corridor, milk on hand and a tired expression on his face. "You forgot that again".

"Thanks, Owl".

The long legs then stares at Bunzo and rolls his eyes. "You look like a dumb kid".

"Hey!"

"Please don't fight at the grocery store again", you sigh. "Where's Dogday?"

"Here!"

The pup appears, wheelchair adorned with Christmas decoration and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. He's holding a few items on his lap, while Delight walks next to him with a very proud expression on her face and a cart full of things. "We completed our list!", she announces. "Did you finish yours, Angel?"

"Ollie just grabbed our last items".

Bunzo climbs your back. You dont even react. "But I helped!"

"Heck yeah, you did", a well-deserved head scratch for him. Bunzo stims in satisfaction, much to Ollie's disdain. "Alright, kiddos, guess this is everything on our part. Any news on Marie's group?"

"Last time I saw her, she and Poppy were debating on which pears were looking the best...", Dogday's voice tone is enough to tell you everything you needed to know: The perfectionists are doing their thing. "... They all looked the same to me..."

Still, you chuckle a bit. "Looks like they want everything to go well for our first Christmas together, eh?"

And indeed, they were.

Grabbing the girls away from their perfection crisis was sure a moment, but in the end, you are all able to leave the grocery store after challenging the final boss (read: The waiting line). The van becomes full of bags, and for a moment you're a bit scared y'all wouldn't fit, but years of playing Tetris have sure done a good job to you.

Together with the kids, you head back home. Miguel and Amy, wonderful babysitters as ever, are out in the backyard with the mini toys as Catnap looks over them. Your brother smiles when he sees you, and you feel very, very happy that he and Amy didn't have to deal with the kids trying to burn the house down again.

Bobby watches from her chair as you, Marie, Delight and Kissy put the groceries away. "Is that... All for Christmas?", she asks, confused.

"Heck yeah", you nod. "Christmas is for eating a ton of stuff, Bobs. Gotta go all out now that we have 87 of you!"

"But...", she bites her bead necklace. "... All of that for one day?"

"To be fair, we normally can't eat it all in one day. We cook a ton and it can last for a few days! And then after that, it's New Year's eve, and off we go to eat a ton of stuff again".

"Woah...", her eyes are shining. "A-and the cookies?"

"You're going to be the one helping me bake them".

"Yaay!"

You stare at the pile of gifts you got the kids. It's... A lot, and you're not even counting the stuff people donated to them. You're lucky Miguel and your parents accepted giving up their garages to fit it all in. A surprise is still a surprise, even if the kids don't believe in Santa.

Your mom is excitedly chatting with Dogday, teaching him how to crochet a scarf. Crafty listens closely, excited. When the three of you eventually have to leave that house, the kids completely oblivious to the gift plan. "Y... Y-your mom is really nice, Angel", the unicorn mutters, staring at the ground. "Really nice..."

"Don't be weirded out, Crafty. She loves all of you, like a grandma would".

"But she's not our grandma..."

"Well, f'course not, she's my mom and YOUR grandma".

"That's not what I meant...", but she's smiling, so the joke worked. "Uh...?"

"Excuse me!"

The three of you stop when a man pops up. He's probably in his mid 30s, if not maybe late 30s. You cross your arms, noticing a notebook he's carrying around. "Yes?"

"Are you the Angel from the PlayCo. Case?"

You eye the kids, annoyed, and they eye you back, also annoyed. "Yes".

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear! You see, I'm a-"

"Reporter?"

"Oh?", he seems surprised. "Yes, yes! I have been meaning to talk to you, miss, about what you plan to do with them for this holiday season. You see..."

"Nah", you walk past him. "Not interested in exposing them more during their first normal Christmas of their lives. Goodbye".

Christmas eve is chaotic.

Huggy wakes you up at 5 in the morning, too agitated to go back to bed. You end up being used as a plushie by him as the others sleep, the house being too crammed with living toys for you to have the luxury of proceeding with your day. When most of them awaken, you tell them about the plan.

You have to use the van a few times, but by the end of things, you're able to bring all the kids to your parents' house. After some time, they all organize in small teams in order to "help" with the very important jobs they were given. Huggy, Kissy, PJ, Boxy and Bunzo, being the youngest of them, are tasked with taking care of the snow (read: playing outside), while most of the minis don't need to be coerced into having fun.

Poppy and you get stuck in the kitchen. Your father is helping Marie with making some of the many dishes, and Bobby, Crafty and many minis are having the time of their lives with baking cookies. Catnap sits outside, "guarding" you all. Dogday goes to check on him from time to time as he tries helping you with making some good Christmas soup.

Piggy ends up helping Marie the moment she comes back from sulking outside. She's shy, but Marie's grumpiness with only having one harm is enough for her to try to help. Not that she can do much without her hands, but Delight makes a "hook" with some textiles laying around so Piggy can at least hold a spoon by herself. The three girls and your dad talk nonstop, and you and Poppy try your best to not laugh at them.

Bubba seems grumpy for not being able to do much. Despite how well the toys heal from their wounds, Bubba is a special case. A very special one. So he watches, and ask questions, while Dogday runs from place to place trying to organize the house and the extra decorations the kids insisted on buying.

Hoppy and Kickin are having their third argument of the day as they try to make pastéis. Never have you ever ate a pastel for Christmas, but the kids loved them and you didn't want to force them to follow any traditions. Ollie is merely going from place to place, helping everyone a little bit and pretending he isn't excited about it all. Eventually, your aunts and uncles pop up, and the chaos bubble pops.

They overflow you with questions, of course, but they also dote on the kids a lot, so you accept answering some things. Nando pops up right behind you, and you jump before rolling your eyes. "Fuck off, you idiot, I'm cooking", you growl.

"Parent of 87 kids and still using the same foul language", your cousin rolls his eyes at you. "Nice to see you too, dipshit".

Poppy, who's busy cutting things for you, seems curious. "Hello, sir!", she nods at him. "I'm Poppy. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Thought you were bigger", he jokes, and you hit him with your elbow. "Hi, Poppy. Name's Nando. I'm your dad's cousin, nice to meet you. Good to know at least someone has manners..."

"Cut it off, Nando", Miguel FINALLY pops up, snow on his hair. "Leave them alone".

"Them who?"

"My kids", you reply, smiling. "You're bothering them".

"I'm not doing anything to them!"

Another elbow hit. Poppy chuckles, understanding the situation.

More and more questions arise for the kids. You avoid some, the kids avoid others, and some of them have answers. The 87 toys become the theme for the Christmas eve, and when night arrives, you help everyone dress up for the occasion, sweaters and silly hats for all of them, no exceptions.

Miguel's oldest kid helps you so, so much through all of this. She's pampering her new friends, of course, while her baby sister is catching everyone's attention, including Catnap, who cannot stop staring at her. She tries grabbing his ears, and, strangely, he allows it.

Your mom takes pictures of everyone. Literally everyone, no exceptions, including one of the whole family, which had to be taken outside. When you all finally sit down to eat, many of the toys try to show off how they can finally sort of use forks and knives now. Kickin and Hoppy annoy each other to the point you have to tell them to cut it off, and Amy giggles, saying they remind her of Miguel and you.

"Really?", Kickin asks, smiling. "Didn't know that guy over there was like that".

"I'm not", you reply.

"You are", your parents, Miguel AND Amy cut you off. You shake your head. Humiliated by your own family, it seems.

Gift giving is equally chaotic. First, the human part of the fam opens their gifts. Then you open the garage's doors, and the kids all seem so, so surprised. It's... Cute, almost, to see the way they all react, and how much they help each other grab and open their gift wrappings. Dogday, especially.

Of course, not all the presents are opened here. Instead, during the following day, you put everything back at your own house before going back to your parents' to grab the kiddos.

They're happy. Surprised, yes, but extremely happy, and this is what matters most to you.

... Despite all the plushies they obtained, however, they still insist on using you as one when they have to go to sleep again.

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adult-kinda · 24 hours ago

Text

My Baby Alone

Warnings: mentions of death, hospitalization, comas, and disordered eating, chat this one’s angsty with a happy ending

In which Sunoo can’t leave yet…

300 days. For the past 300 days you had been visiting him. Every single day you made time to set aside your anxiety, enter that sterile building, and sit with him. You knew he wouldn’t respond. Everything in you said to let him go. The guys told you there was no hope and disbandment was in the works.

But you couldn’t. You weren’t going to give up so easily. Even if it was the tiniest voice in your soul begging you to stay.

“You would have loved to see the fans get well soon trucks today! They used your Not For Sale photos this time.” You said with a smile.

You knew he would be disappointed in you. You had lost a lot of weight and the sparkle in your eyes was gone. He would never have allowed this.

“Oh! And your photo cards are reselling for big prices too! Like thousands of dollars. The other members would be jealous.” You explained.

Once again nothing. Just the quiet beep from machinery.

“I’ve been putting in more hours. The company put out a statement announcing our relationship. I knew it’s what you would’ve wanted by now. So far not as much hate, but I try to distract myself. I’m working overtime most evenings.” You say referring to your job at the animal shelter.

The nurse stepped in the room and sighed.

“Y/N, darling, should we consider-“Don’t! Don’t even think about it.” You interrupted.

The nurse nodded and glanced at the body in the bed. Typically she wouldn’t push but it was nearing a year now. It was time.

“I know you don’t want to think about this, but it’s time. He’s not progressing.” She said.

You refused to answer her and waited for her to leave. Once she was finally gone and the door was shut you broke down. You had done so well with not crying while you were here but the possibility of losing him, it was too much.

“Why! Why would you leave me? You can’t do that!” You shouted.

Your pleas fell into the abyss of the fluorescent lights. But they weren’t unheard.

Sunoo heard you. He desperately wanted to get to you, to respond. But he was locked in and could not make his way out. He was banging on doors through an endless hallway praying someone would open.

“I thought you loved me!” You cried.

I do, princess! I do!

“Why do you insist on leaving?”

I’m trying to come back! I’m gonna find you!

“I love you so much!”

I love you too! Hold on just a little more!

When he was met with silence he assumed you’d left. But then you entered one more time. This time two other voices were with you as well as more on a mobile device.

“It’s time to let him go.” You said sorrowfully.

No! No! No!

“Are you sure? We can give you more time to say goodbye.” A male voice said.

“It’s alright, father. I think this is what he would have wanted.” A digital voice confirmed.

No! No this is not at all what I want!

Finally. After all these days of running and searching a door opened. Sunoo was running through that door and toward an image. An image of you holding his hand.

“I love you so much.”

I love you too! I’m almost there!

Pressure. Before the doctor could proceed with anything you felt pressure.

“Stop!” You shouted.

Everyone paused. You had felt phantom touches before but this, this was certainly different.

“Miss Y/N-“No! He’s here! He squeezed my hand!”

The doctor sighed. “Y/N we’ve been over this. It could be in your he-“No! Look! Grab his other hand.”

The doctor humored you and grabbed his other hand.

“Sunoo! If you can hear me squeeze your left hand!”

To the doctor’s surprise he squeezed. Hard. That was unmistakable.

“Oh my word.” He muttered.

You smiled with tears of joy streaming down.

“We’ll be there in the next hour.” Jungwon said over the phone before cutting the line.

I’m almost there, baby!

Just as Sunoo was going to step into the image he felt a tug on his arm. It was an… angel? It was so human but had wings… it was him. Sunoo was faced with a reflection of himself in the purest of whites with majestic wings.

“Come with me, it’s time. You have so many people waiting to meet you up here! And there’s kpop idols too that you would get along with.” The reflection said.

Sunoo looked at him intrigued, but you were down there.

“Come, Sunoo. You have family on the other side. Moonbin is on the other side. Jonghyun is on the other side. Your pets are on the other side. Heaven is waiting on the other side.” He said trying his hardest to convince him.

Sunoo missed these things. He had always wished he could go back and experience these people, these memories one last time.

But you were not on the other side.

“No. I’m not leaving my baby.” He said before stepping into the image.

“Doc we have signs of brain activity!” The nurse exclaimed.

Everything went so fast. Nurses were working to make sure everything was prepped. The doctor halted all end of life protocols. The priest stood outside to pray over the room. You… well you sat patiently waiting for your boy to come back to you.

Apparently you were very patient because you remained there the entire night. The rest of the Enhypen members waited outside in the waiting area, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Good morning, Sunoo.” You greeted groggily.

You smiled when you felt a squeeze in your hand.

“I probably look a mess right now. I’m glad that you’re coming back. I’ve been missing you like crazy.”

Another three squeezes.

“Have you been missing me? I think about you seven days a week. I’ve never given up on you.”

You nodded in response to his pressure again.

“I’m excited to take care of you! You’ll stay in my apartment while you finish healing. I’ll make you all your favorite soups, hell I’ll even stock up on mint chocolate chip ice cream! I’ve been eating it since you’ve been gone, it reminds me of you.” You said with a giggle.

“I’ll be diligent. I’ll make sure you take all your medications and eat all your meals. I’ll do it all because I love you, Sunoo. I just need you to wake up for me.”

You ended your plea with a kiss on his lips. But this one was different. This time you could feel him kissing… back? There was no way! You pulled away in shock.

“My love.” Sunoo mumbled as his eyes slowly opened.

You gasped as you watched him come back to you. His eyes were opened, his voice was hoarse after not using it for so long. But none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was that he was alive.

“Sunoo!” You cried.

Sunoo saw you and gave his signature smile (albeit a little tired). “Hello my love.”

Your embrace was warm. Sunoo could get used to this again. You were so warm and loving, he knew he couldn’t afford for anyone else to hold you.

“You’re alive! You’re here and… oh Sunoo!” You sobbed into his chest.

Sunoo smiled and held you just as tightly. He had found you and was not going to let go.

He’d take your embrace over the wandering, the running through the hallway. And in the same breath he would do it all again if it meant he could spend lifetimes with you.

Heaven can wait.

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spineless-lobster · 2 days ago

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ALRIGHT LADS MERRY CHRISTMAS ITHACA SAGA’S OUT HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS

(Spoilers under cut of course)

1. The Challenge

PENELOPEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! RAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

NOT HER SEEING THE STORM ODY RELEASED AAAAAAAAAAAAA

I’LL BE HERE BUYING YOU TIME‼️🔥💪

OUGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ANNA ATE THE VOCALS SHE SOUNDS GORGEOUS!!!!!!!!!!!

I KNEW IT!!!!! I KNEW SHE’D BE SINGING “WAITINGGGGG” I KNEW IT IN MY HEART AND SOUL!!!!!!!!!!!

2. Hold Them Down

WHERE IS HE INDEED!!!!!!!!

Oughhhhhhhh ayron’s voice is making me FEEL things rn he makes it so hard to hate antinous 😭 (this sentiment will not be held for long)

“Hold him down ‘til the boy stops shaking” “only the ocean and I will know” okay idk if I’m insane or ovulating or something but like antinous is kind of a freak for telemachus like he’s a little too sensual about killing him idkkkkkkk

Okay okay now it is SUPER easy to hate antinous FUCK when he’s describing what he’ll do to penelope I got chills bro thank god he’s dead 😭

Again I HAVE to reiterate how AMAZING ayron’s vocals are in this song HE GIVES SUCH A GREAT PERFORMANCE!!!!!!!

3. Odysseus

Ohohohohooooo daddy’s home

The electric guitar that’s how you know you’re fucked

“I come back and find my palace desecrated, sacked like Troy” THE GASP I LET OUT AT THE NAME DROP!!!!! SICKENING!!!!!!

When he called telemachus “my boy” what if I started crying

“I. Have had. Enough.” CHILLS!!! CHILLS MOTHERFUCKER CHILLS!!!!!! ASKFJKSJFSKHFKSHDKFH WE HAVE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS!!!!!!!!

THE ENSEMBLE SINGING “ODYSSEUS” IN POLYPHEMUS’ TUNE!!!!! HE’S THE BOSS NOW BITCHES!!!!!!!

“He’s aiming for the torches!” JUST LIKE SCYLLA!!!!! ODY IS PULLING A SCYLLA!!!!!!!!!

“You don’t think I know my own palace? I built it.” STILL ONE OF THE HARDEST FUCKING LINES IN THE MUSICAL BRO THAT SHIT MAKES ME INSANE!!!!!! INSANEEEEE!!!!!!!!

OPEN ARMS MENTION!!!!!!! We are NOT greeting the world with opens arms lads it’s fucking over. I love the way odysseus says “no” without ANY hesitation, he’s so tired of this song and dance HE’S HAD IT!!!!

TELEMACHUS!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYYAY!!!!!!!

I wasn’t expecting him to relish in the bloodshed like he does in the odyssey because that’s just not how he is in the musical but it’s nice that he at least tried to stop them! You go little wolf!

“Where is he?” Being used to refer to both odysseus and telemachus is killing me slowly

“My mercy has long since drowned. It died to bring me home.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

FUCK DUDE!!!!! THAT WHOLE SECTION IS A FUCKING BANGER JAY’S DELIVERY IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE I CAN FEEL THE RAGE IN MY BONES MAN THIS SHIT IS SO FUCKING AWESOME!!!!!!!!

The use of “drowned” is SO CLEARLY a reference to poseidon I’m going to throw up

The screaming. All I hear are screams…

Fuck dude… just… fuuuuckkkkkk

4. I Can’t Help But Wonder

I’ve daydreamed so much about the father-son reunion I’m gonna cry

Ough poor telemachus finally meets his father and he can only worry about if he’s worthy enough to live up to ody’s legacy. And THE FIRST thing ody does is tell him how strong he is FUCK ME DUDE 😭😭😭

“Used to say I’d make the storm clouds cry for you” obvious reference to his whole shebang with poseidon

“Used to say I’d capture the wind and sky for you” WINDBAG MENTION!!!!!!!!

“Held you in my arms prepared to die for you” something something I see you draw your final breath, something something get in the water, something something…

“My son, I’m finally home!” THE WAY YOU CAN TELL THEY’RE HUGGING HERE BECAUSE OF THE SWELL OF MUSIC ARE YOU KIDDING ME ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW????? OUGHOGOUOGOGOHOHGHHHHHH

THEY’RE HARMONIZING IM GOING TO SOB IM GOING TO COMMIT CRIMES!!!!!!!!!

ATHENA!!!!!!!!!

My god odysseus learning ruthlessness and athena learning empathy and then uniting and realizing that, while empathy should always come first, unfortunately the world we live in sometimes we have to use ruthlessness in order to survive. And the best we can do is foster future generations that hopefully will not have to go through the same terrible things we have. Ough…

“There’s this girl I have to see” I’m like 80% this is referencing that cut song where ody asks athena to help him court penelope… I hope I’m right because I’ll cry if I am

5. Would You Fall In Love With Me Again

I’m tweaking our rn btw in case you were wondering

The instrumentals are so beautiful I literally CANNOT

The door opening sound effect is so simple but so effective alisjfkshfkshdidjjd

Once again I need to express how much I truly believe the odyssey is a metaphor for ptsd and how it changes a person and the relationships they have

ODYSSEUS SINGING “WAITING” YOU HAVE TO STOP I CAN ONLY TAKE SO MUCH 😭

Fuck the chorus is so beautiful I don’t even know what to say about it I’m so overwhelmed with emotions. Ough. Just… odysseus on his knees begging to be loved the way he was, and penelope knowing her answer only if she can really trust the man in front of her. Fuck… what the hell…

The olive bed… THE OLIVE BED!!!!!!!!!!

Once again I need to emphasize how ETHEREAL anna’s voice is!!!!!!!

THE JUST A MAN INSTRUMENTALS JORGE YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!!!! ITS NOT ALLOWED!!!! YOU CANT FUCKING DO THAT!!!!!!

They’re harmonizing… they’re singing “I love you” and they’re harmonizing… I. I need a moment… I just.. give me a second… please can I have some time to myself? I just really need to… die, I think…

The final words of epic being “I love you” I am literally going to end my own life ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

This song makes me want to rip out my still-beating heart and eat it bloody and raw. In like a good way!!!

shoutout to the only straight couple ever. I love you odypen…

And thus, our journessey comes to an end. It’s over but it’s not over and I think that’s the only comfort I have right now

Now do you’ll excuse me I’m going to go lay face down in a creek forever

#what. the. fuck.#LADS ARE YOU SEEING THIS?????#THEY JUST… DID THAT?????#STRAIGHT UP????#I literally can’t believe this musical exists were truly blessed to experience something like this I am being so serious #this shit is so crazy man #in like a good way #I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore my brain is mush #fuck #I’m going to collapse into a pile of dust #epic the musical #epic the ithaca saga #epic the musical spoilers #epic the ithaca saga spoilers

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quibbs126 · 12 hours ago

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So I also ended up making this this afternoon

So basically the story behind this is that I decided “eh screw it, I said I’d try making that megop kid idea, might as well try making some helm designs to start out with”. And I made a bit of one for TF One, though specifically inspired by their cogless designs since I’ve drawn them a fair bit

But then it dawned on me that outside of TF One, I haven’t actually drawn that many Megatron and Optimus designs. Like I drew Animated Optimus like a couple times when I was starting out, but that’s it. And also the idea itself doesn’t really work with TF One, since as it stands the war hasn’t technically even broke out yet. It works far more in a series where it’s actually been happening

So I figured, I should start at the basics and get myself some practice on g1 Megatron and Optimus, since you know, they’re the classic designs

Also side note on g1 that isn’t really related but I wanted to add in anyways, today I got the complete set of the g1 cartoon (minus the movie but that’s okay). It was a Christmas present that was supposed to come earlier but finally came in today. And I learned my PS4 can play Blu-Rays (which really shouldn’t be a surprise, I’m aware that’s what made the PS2 sell so well, but I didn’t realize they kept doing it), so that means I am now able to watch g1 on an actual TV, legally, with presumably higher quality, and possibly even subtitles

So you know, I’m doing pretty good right now. I’m glad my dad is supporting my Transformers fixation and the fact that I’m insisting on using a DVD player (for the movies at the library, but still), which means actual DVDs

Anyways, side tangent aside, back to the drawings

I think they turned out fairly decent, they don’t really bother me. I do kind of wish I added shading/lighting so the drawings weren’t so flat, but regardless

Admittedly I think I do need to work on actually doing poses and things with these designs, I’m doing a whole lot of nothing with them right now. I need to pose those cubes

Also there’s some colors shared between the two. I don’t know if this is something actually done in the show, and maybe it makes the colors look inaccurate, but I think it’s neat to use the same colors elsewhere

Now on to random things about the characters’ designs I just wanted to mention

First off, this isn’t really a character design thing, but these were the pictures I used for references, outside of some concept art I have for full body basic anatomy (getting screenshots from the show is my preferred form of reference), and I gotta say, it took a fair bit longer to find a picture online with a proper look at Optimus’ head than Megatron’s

Like it didn’t take that long, like 1-2 minutes, but I just noticed how a lot of screenshots don’t really focus on his face, unlike Megatron. I assume because in g1, he doesn’t really have much of one, given his mask covers half of it

Also while Megatron’s helm itself is relatively basic looking and doesn’t really have a lot going on, the rest of his face has got a fair amount of details

Like he’s got defined cheek bone lines (I think), but he’s also one of the few (again I think) characters to have the shadow around his eyes that becomes more common later on

Then there’s also that whatever he’s got going on above his eyes. I’d say it’s eyebrows but I don’t think that’s what it’s supposed to be, given these characters don’t really have those yet

I saw someone, aka the person who makes Transformers Until One, granatu888 (idk if I should tag them here or not), turn the thing into a battle mask that drops down onto his face, and frankly I think that’s really cool, and that’s what I now choose to believe it is. Hasbro, make that what it is

Anyways, moving on. I don’t really have a lot to say on Optimus other than his helm being a lot more simplistic in its shapes than I’m used to, as well as very triangular. Like compared to TF One Optimus, who’s got a lot of details going on, his is super simple. I also didn’t make his antenna full triangles going down because I thought it looked weird, now they’re more like TFA Optimus

Also one last thing, but I swear the way I drew him looks just like that how one artist does, the one who draws Sparkplug (sorry, unlike the last mention I don’t actually remember the artist’s name, probably because I don’t follow them. Which tbh I should probably rectify, I like their Sparkplug stuff). Sorry it was just something I noticed afterwards and can’t unsee it. This also applies specifically to the face, they draw the actual rest character much better than me

Anyways, back to Megatron. Random thing, but he’s got a whole control panel on his torso. I’ve known he has it, because he has it in TF One, but why does he have it?

This kind of goes hand in hand, but random other thought I had today that connects, his design in general is a bit off compared to other characters because in g1, he doesn’t transform into a vehicle, he turns into a gun. Like that’s not to say he looks out of place (I mean I still think his helmet looks weird), but like, he doesn’t have a lot of kibble because of it. Like he’s one of the characters with no glass on his body because guns don’t have glass

Also does he have two guns? One on his shoulder, another on his back? I don’t know, I’m only now realizing that. They probably combine together when he transforms. Also I think his fusion cannon is just supposed to be his scope in gun mode, which ironically I’m pretty sure aren’t actually involved with the damage part of shooting. I don’t know, random observation

And uh, I think that’s it. It was mostly just random design details, and honestly not as many as I was expecting. I didn’t really have much to say on the art itself, mostly since it was just me trying to draw the g1 designs

But yeah, it was neat, I think I have a better understanding of their general designs, at least here. Now to actually use them in any way

#don’t know if I will be using these for the original purpose I outlined #but you know it was good practice anyways #transformers #transformers g1 #my art #megatron #optimus prime

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