#using some leds and some model magic

[malledhrim]

now i'm thinking about how i badly i wish i could go back and not end up completely burnt out in college

[ckret2]

Chapter 76 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.

####

Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"

"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."

"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.

They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."

Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."

Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."

Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"

Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"

Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."

Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"

Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"

"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."

"What?"

"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."

"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.

"Can you uncurse it, though?"

"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.

Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"

Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"

"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."

"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."

"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.

Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."

That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.

But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.

Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"

"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."

To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.

It was something a person would do.

Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.

####

Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.

Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it. 

He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.

"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.

To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.

"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.

After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.

"Thank you."

It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?

Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.

He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.

As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.

"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.

When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.

"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."

As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"

The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"

Ford stopped the tape. Huh.

Huh.

####

As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"

Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"

"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."

Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"

"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"

"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."

"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.

Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.

Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.

####

Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"

"Yep. Just going to bed?"

Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."

"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"

"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."

"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.

And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.

Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.

"Bill."

"Hm?"

He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."

Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"

Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"

Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."

Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)

But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.

"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."

Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"

"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not. 

Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"

"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."

"Is this your emergency stash?"

"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.

"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."

"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.

Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."

"That much?"

"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."

All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.

As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"

Ford glanced back. "Yes?"

"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."

He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."

"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.

####

Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"

She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"

She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"

"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."

"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.

Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"

"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.

"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.

"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."

Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."

"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"

"Nobody. Everyone hates him."

She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"

"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.

"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"

Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"

"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."

####

"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"

"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."

"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."

Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"

"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!" 

"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"

"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."

"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"

Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.

####

"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"

"Okay, but why you?"

She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."

"They really don't."

"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."

"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"

"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."

What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."

She was quiet a moment. "I know." 

"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.

####

After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.

The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.

The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."

He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.

All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.

Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."

 The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"

"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"

The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"

"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"

While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"

"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"

"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"

"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"

"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"

A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.

"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"

The book immediately fell still.

Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.

He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."

"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.

"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"

"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."

"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."

As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.

He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.

But how did it know?

Could it have warned him about Bill?

Ford would never find out now.

The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."

The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—

That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.

After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.

####

In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.

Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.

On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.

The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.

And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.

Journal 2's pages rustled.

####

(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎

Thaaat's right. 😎😎

An unrelated flashback chapter!!!

Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)

[kimikitti]

In honor of the new Book 7 part I present to you all the right and honorable Lord Calibearn the Pretender. Briar Valley's premier overworked government employee.

Former court jester turned Royal Advisor, he's wrangled almost three generations of Draconia royalty in vastly different ways. He's twisted from the forest animals in sleeping beauty taking over the Prince's coat. Yes, he is made up of a bunch of animals in a fancy stuffed outfit. There's a lore dump below the cut

Unique magic: "Flock Together"- Allows user to control and manipulate groups of small animals. Advanced application allows conscious transfer of the soul

Background:

Calibearn came from a relatively poor background in Briar Valley. He used to sing and play the lute for some extra coin on the streets. When the Royal Court held a competition for a new jester, Calibearn decided to try out. He was successful on account for the unique harmonies he could conjure with forest animals and was appointed as a companion to a young princess Malenoar. It was through this that Calibearn met Raverne and Lilia.

War: (I'm not too set on his lore yet) During the invasion of the Silver Owl, Calibearn was taken hostage trying to evacuate civilians. He was never supposed to be near the front lines, due to his weak nature. While in captivity, Calibearn was forced to give up his original form and escape using his unique magic "Flock Together".

He never found his original body.

Upon his return, Calibearn took on a more ruthless political role under the senate. His sharp tongue and wit led to a meteoric rise in political circles (plus a shit ton of blackmail).

During the seige of Malenoar's castle, Calibearn was faced with a terrible choice. Send more troups to defend Malenoar or move the supplies to secure civilians. He made a choice he'll never forgive himself for.

Relationships:

Malenoar: On account of a shared childhood, they were quite close. Malenoar would frequently tease Cali about his shyness when they were young. Calibearn also entertained the princess with the sordid affairs that happen amongst the nobles in her court. Calibearn was also involved in a lot of the mischief Maleanoar would pull on potential suitors.

Lilia: Calibearn developed a minor crush on Lilia growing up. He holds Lilia in very high regard. After the war, Calibearn and Lilia's relationship deteriorates. Lilia, though still believing in Calibearn as a friend, cannot forgive him for abandoning Maleanoar. Calibearn doesn't believe that Lilia is wrong about that, but also refuses to explain himself. While Lilia is banished, Calibearn constantly petitions the Senate for a repeal of his punishment. He continues to support Lilia indirectly and would often send gifts for Silver through Malleus.

After nearly centuries of healing, Lilia wants to finally have an open conversation of Calibearn about the past. Calibearn runs away from this constantly. Much to the chagrin of literally everyone involved.

Malleus: Due to the fact that the Senate sucks and Lilia was not often allowed to see Malleus, Calibearn self appointed himself to be a tutor and mentor to the young prince. He would often help Malleus sneak out to see Lilia. He wanted the prince to at least have some semblance of a childhood.

Calibearn was not always the best role model at times. He taught Malleus how to curse like a sailor once and got his ass kicked by Lilia. Though he is fond of Malleus, Calibearn felt himself to be a temporary figure in prince's life. The guilt he carried made Calibearn feel that his love for the prince paled in comparison to the love Lilia could give. As such, he kept some amount of distance between him and Malleus.

Malleus on the other hand, grew to respect Calibearn as a mentor. Though that doesn't stop the prince from teasing Calibearn at every opportunity. (Btw the I love DILF mug is from Malleus, Cali has no idea what DILF means no one tell him.) Also, Malleus is constantly trying to get is divorced dads back together. Silver gets enlisted into this fight on account for him being the youngest and cutest.

[shytastemakerthing]

Ooooo I think I’ve noticed this being being a thing across some other fics & HCs and stuff, but would you be willing to do headcanons for Vil with a yuu (where he somehow found out about their feelings) who wouldn’t confess to him about their feelings & tried to get over him because they were worried he’d brush them off as typical paparazzi/fan behavior because he’s so used to it?

Hello and thank you so much for your request! I am sorry that this took so long to get out, school and work have been rather crazy right now XD, I hope you enjoy!

Tw: None

A/N: Reader is stated to be Yuu

It was safe to say that you were not the first person to ever have a crush on the Vil Schoenheit, but you were certainly one who was in his presence more than some of the others

It was only a matter of time before such feelings would develop, especially with how often you two crossed paths, and how often you found yourself in his dorm

But there was absolutely no way that you could tell him such a fact

After all.... who were you compared to him?

He was a world famous celebrity, top-class model, a highly skilled actor

You were just.....nobody

A magic-less nobody from another world who didn't even belong to this world, especially the one that he lived in

If you told him, the chances were high that he would simply see this as some joke, or the typical fan behavior that he is quite used too, and there was no way that you would ruin the friendship that the both of you had just because of how you felt

Perhaps that is why you started to put a distance between the both of you

Last minute cancellations of study plans, doing your skincare at Ramshackle, stops at his club becoming less and less frequent, the works. Anything that would work a gradual decline in your time around him

In hopes that these feelings would soon diminish, no matter how it hurt

Oh, but a fool you were to not think that Vil would certainly take notice

At first, he didn't think much of it. He knew that Crowley, the worthless and lazy headmaster that he was, kept you rather busy. Not to mention that gremlin cat of yours followed by your first-year friends

But then more suspicions arose... as if you were actually actively avoiding him

Now he really didn't know how to feel about that

It wasn't until several key points were stated by Rook (stalker), when Vil began to piece it all together

Especially noticing how empty his heart had been feeling, how lonely, he felt when you weren't at his side

Why wouldn't you have just come to him about such feelings? How could he turn you down? Did you think so little of yourself? Perhaps you did, and he would certainly need to correct that

Which is probably what led him to the steps of Ramshackle, actually compiling each and every ounce of strength that he had to actually come to the rundown dorm to see you, standing straight and knocking on the door.... honestly hoping that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt

"You should never hide your feelings from me, Leibling. Especially if you do not know if they are reciprocated or not. Hm? Well, it would seem that this is my confession to you. Will you accept?"

Have a wonderful day/night!

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

💖 APHRODITE: Goddess of Love and Beauty 🕊

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you arrive at camp, you’re already got eyes following you. There’s something about you that draws people’s eyes to you. It could be your face, your hair, your eyes, your hands when they move, how you walk, how you move. So when you get claimed by Aphrodite, your fanfare is totally expected by others and unexpected when you get a magical makeover by your godly mother’s blessing. You’re dressed to the nines, your look done up perfectly like you're a movie star walking on the red carpet. People stare at you with awe and you can feel it.

The moment you are shown the Cabin, all you can think of is “Oh god it’s a god dang barbie mansion”; this may either fulfill your deepest childhood dream or your worst nightmare.

There’s gossip everywhere in the cabin. You’re hearing about people’s love lives, social interactions, and everything about the people in camp. Even if you’re not as romantically inclined yourself, you’re practically spoiled for choice for hearing about drama. There may be no TV or shows for you to watch, but this is the next best thing. It’s like the Kardashians, House Wives, and Golden Girls all the same.  

Shipping. So much shipping. Shipping between campers in your cabin and outside the cabin. Shipping between movie stars to literal characters. Heck, even self-shipping is encouraged! It’s a shipper's galore. 

The Aphrodite cabin likes to have fashion runs. A lot of the Aphrodite demigods become models and do a catwalk. But if you’re not that interested in being a model, there are still ways to participate. 

If you like to design and make your own clothes, the Aphrodite cabin has your back. You have access to all types of fabrics, patterns, and materials you could need. You have no shortage of models for you to work with. If you’re interested in doing make-up, cosmetic or movie makeup,  you have plenty of people to practise on. Even if children of Aphrodite have the ability to have permanent makeup and whatnot, it doesn’t mean you still can’t use your skills to be on fleek. 

You know the meme where you see a woman putting eyeliner with the sword to make sure it's sharp? You see that way too often.

You're swiftly proven that functionality being sacrificed for fashion is a myth. It can be done and it has been done, but it's just some outweigh functionality with AESTHETICS

Stans. Stans everywhere. People don’t usually see the Aphrodite kids fight and break character unless it comes to their stan. If you haven’t seen them fight before, you do now. You’re still reeling from the BTS stans.

K-dramas. K-pop. Enough said. 

You look at yourself as best as you could, it was both familiar yet foreign.  It was like looking at the mirror, seeing yourself and all the positives of your body. Even if you had a negative view of yourself, it was gone and changed.  

A girl stepped up, her black hair swaying, and you looked at her in awe as she smiled at you. “Hi! My name is Silena Beauregard, welcome to Cabin 10!” 

“Oh hi” you said lamely, but before you could say anything further, you saw a large amount of pink in your vision. “Oh my god” you couldn’t help uttering as soon as your eyes laid on the Aphrodite cabin. It was pink in glory, and all you can think was that it was a true to god barbie house. 

“Ah yeah,” said Selina, “Welcome to the Barbie house.”

“Wait it’s really called that?” 

“Well, we really shouldn’t be calling it a Barbie house, but ... .I do admit it is pretty much a barbie house” Selina whispered in the last part. 

You couldn’t help snicker and Selina gave you a knowing smile and wink, before she led you to the door.

“You ready?” she asked. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be” you replied after taking a deep breath. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for every step of the way” she reassured and you smiled back. As soon the door opened, there was a waft of perfume. It wasn’t particularly strong or particularly bad, in fact it made you happy, but you could smell it anyways. There was a twinge of emotion that stirred up in you; it reminded you of smelling a perfume that reminded you of home and love…for some reason, you had a flash of a woman holding you to her chest and you burying your nose into her, your eyes closing with warmth.

“Hey everyone, let me introduce you to our new half-sibling!” introduced Selina, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. You raised your hand and waved, introducing yourself. That was all it took before the flood work came. Immediately, all the inhabitants in the cabin begun to interview you from where you were from, your favourite colour, your favourite colour, band, and etc-

Your head was absolutely swimming but as you all talked to each other, sharing your likes and dislikes, you had a feeling you were going to be alright.

[spuirrelwiththeletterp]

cutely slides in the yap post about their Sans AU that was previously accidently posted and jumps out of a window 😊

I've posted some art of my kid, but haven't given their name(I did) or any other info. I will eventually make a proper info post on them, but for now...

this booger right here is Error Print Sans, or just Print Error (or Error Print)

an absolute feck ton of words under the cut that's me just throwing up my thoughts ⇓

they originally started out as a passing thought that was just Error!Sans but CMYK colors, which evolved into a whole different character who didn't even have anything CMYK going on and I forgot about them for around two or three years until I re-entered my Undertale/UTMV phase recently. seriously disliked the character and the direction I took them in so I decided to start from scratch, took the original CMYK concept, and Print Error was born

am still working out their lore. I have ideas for some events that led to their current state, though how they got into the Anti-Void or why their attire changed after becoming an error is still beyond me

I called them Print Error because inkjet printers use CMYK ink and they're an error (very creative ik) they also feel weird being called just Print but they don't know why

even though I made its design with the CMYK color model in mind, its more CMY than CMYK due to actually not having any black, the way its body works just makes it look like it has black↴

Print Error's being is composed of 3 overlapping color layers (cyan, magenta, yellow) that each depict how much of that magic they have. less saturated colors means less magic left, and running out of all three colors will leave Print Error in a mindless "no color" or "all white" state where they can't use any magic unless they absorb color through physical contact

the alignment of Print Error's layers reflect their mental state. more misaligned layers means more mentally unstable or intense Print Error's emotions. more aligned layers means Print Error is more "there" in their own chaotically fragmented way, but layers rarely ever align too closely...

Their body is not affected by lighting, which means they stick out like a sore thumb with their bright colors and vantablack bones (it's already hard enough to just make the effect, shading them would just be an absolute nightmare 😭)

Print Error's strings are much thicker than a typical error's and come from both its eyes and mouth. Print Error can additionally absorb CMY colors from objects/beings with its strings

Print Error's attacks (bones, gaster/printing error blaster blasts) come in cyan, magenta, and yellow, which all have their own properties, but Print Error can't control what color their attack will be half of the time

Print Error is cold to the touch but has thermoanesthesia, so it doesn't know its a walking ice cube. its confused why others react so weird when coming in physical contact with it

Print Error does not understand social cues and personal space. they're often in a chaotically playful mood, though not always

Print Error is morally grey and can't tell the difference between good and bad, everything is neutral to it... apart from mistakes

Print Error's thoughts are inconsistent, usually jumping from one topic to another, having multiple thoughts at once, or not having any thoughts at all. it usually "lives in the moment", often going with the flow

Print Error's fragmented mind kind of leaves them absent minded most of the time, getting easily distracted and forgetting things like it's nobody's business. though they can often hold their focus if they're intrigued by something

even with a horrible memory, Print Error can remember things at random, though often it's something that it was previously intrigued by, or just something completely random. either way its gonna forget not even 2 seconds later

Print Error deeply believes that any mistake, no matter how small, can be catastrophic, causing them to have a sort of perfectionist mindset. they try to avoid making any mistakes, and punish themself over any mistakes they do make (leaving out details)

if Print Error witnesses someone else make a mistake, there's a chance their mind might not register it, but more often than not, will get seriously exasperated at the person for making a mistake and might even crash out of frustration. not because of the mistake itself, but more so out of fear for the person, though Print Error doesn't recognize the feeling nor reason behind it

though they do heal quicker than usual, it's a double-edged sword as it subconsciously encourages Print Error's more self-destructive behavior

I originally had Print Error have excellent depth perception, until I thought of Print Error seeing everything in the same layered effect others see them in. definitely gonna explore that idea!

there are many more ideas I have for Print Error but I don't know how to "coherently" include them so those are gonna be revealed over time 😉

If anyone wants to ask anything about Print Error, feel free to ask! I would love to answer any questions about them and I got nothing but time!

been stressing over this post for like two weeks and I just set a deadline so I wouldn't tweak things till the heat death of the universe

was heavily inspired by @ossiethegreat's Static Hue/Error!Color post to make my own rant on my own kid, so there might be some similarities cuz I am oh so ✨️creative✨️. link to the post because I absolutely loved reading its ideas and I love Hue

I AM SO SORRY OZ IF YOU DID GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THE UNFINISHED VERSION OF THIS POST THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN I AM SO FRICKING SORRY 😭😭😭

I really tried to explain my thoughts and I feel like I failed in certain areas 😭 I struggle with explaining my ideas and especially the more in-depth ones, so some things might change if I find better ways to explain them

I definitely plan to share more of this gremlin, and especially if more than one person is interested in them!

also found some older drawings of Print Error I made previously but didn't share, so I'm sharing now because I don't think I would have shared these at any point in the future

also a lil lore one 👀 which I like but also don't like

[mrs-gauche]

Let's talk about the Red Lyrium Idol

(…Because it's not like this thing has been discussed to death over the past ten years, right? 😂 *drops my two cents in the Scrooge McDuck money bin*)

Ah yes… The red lyrium idol. The one thing that's given me a headache since 2018, as I'm still trying to figure out how this damn thing could possibly fit into my bazillion tinfoil theories.

Whether it's the first official DA4 teaser in 2018, the Blue Wraith comic series or the entirety of the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, a lot of the supplementary media and promotional stuff setting up the course for DA4 seems to be centered around the idol. Quite literally, in some cases, like this mural from the first 2018 teaser:

It certainly led us to think that the idol won't just be another McGuffin (or so I hope lol), but other than that, it's still heavely shrouded in mystery…

Which is why I will now make an attempt to unravel this and gather every single bit of information we have on it (so far) and maybe that'll get us closer to some sort of answer in the end (actually, it won't, because this got SO long that I had to split this post in two parts lol No one's going to read all of this anyway 💀)!

Look, I just needed to get this behemoth of a post out before we might get an actual substantial trailer tomorrow and none of this will probably matter anymore. 😂💀

(Note: This whole thing was initially intended to be solely for myself to keep track of any information we've gotten about the idol since DA2. But since it's gotten SO long over the years, I figured why not just rewrite it into a somewhat coherent text and post it on here? :D ......Seriously, it's really, REALLY effing long.)

The Idol's Journey so far

To me, the idol always seemed to be something like "The One Ring" in LOTR. A forged ancient artifact with creepy unknown powers that is said to feel "alive", almost as if it possesses a will of its own, seeing as it has somehow found its way from countless random people, back to (presumably) its former owner. It also appears to be somewhat cursed, given that almost everyone who held it at one point seems to have died or gone mad by now (Yeah, I'm very worried about Varric and Hawke 👀).

Let us start with a quick summary of the journey the idol has made in the span of about 12-13 years (not counting the unknown timespan in which the last chapter of Tevinter Nights takes place):

First discovered by Hawke and Varric in an ancient Thaig in the Deep Roads.

Stolen by Bartrand, who then made a quick trip to Rivain.

Sold to Meredith, who turned it into a sword.

Taken out of Meredith's petrified corpse by Carta dwarves.

Sold again to a Tevinter mage, who brought it to House Qintara in Ventus.

Handed to a secret agent of Fen'Harel named Gaius (who was impersonating Magister Qintara).

Traded away to Tractus Danarius.

Handed to Magister Nenealeus at Castellum Tenebris to be used as part of a ritual.

Picked up by Cedric Marquette after the fortress fell, while trying to escape.

Handed back to Tractus Danarius, who then probably (not confirmed) went to Nevarra to perform another blood magic ritual.

Picked up by a Mortalitasi who (maybe) took it to Tevinter.

(Supposedly!) ended up in a vault under an auction house in Llomerryn in Rivain, where it was (supposedly!) retrieved by Solas.

That's quite the journey… that you wouldn't even know half about if you didn't read the comics or Tevinter Nights. But whereas the book and comics were all published after the first teaser trailer in 2018, after which the idol became the center of the fandom's attention and speculation, it should be noted that a connection to the idol was in fact already made way back in 2014, when people noticed that the image of Solas holding Flemeth's lifeless body at the end of Inquisition was very reminiscent of something else.

...Which brings us to the point of what the idol is even depicting to begin with.

Description

Before I'll start to give my own description based on the models in-game, the teaser and concept art, I'd like to quote the people who've actually seen it in person.

In the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, we are being told three tales by three different people, who all describe the same idol differently.

The Carta Assassin: "A couple hugging, too thin to be dwarves - but it's sitting there, glowing softly like a ruby lit by the grace of the Maker himself. […] It's heavier than you'd think - lyrium's heavier than you'd think, too, but this was heavy even for that. When I hefted it in my hand, it was like it wanted to keep moving, like it was liquid inside."

The Mortalitasi: "An idol crafted from red lyrium, which seemed to show two lovers, or a god mourning her sacrifice. It whispered in our minds when we saw it […]."

The Orlesian Bard/Solas: "He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other."

The one thing that all of these seem to have in common though is two figures who embrace each other in some way.

Which is interesting, because in all the depictions of the idol we've seen so far, it clearly shows three people instead of two. Granted, the third figure is a bit cramped up in the back of the crowned figure, but what's strange is that not even Solas himself mentions this third figure.

Most notable though is the crowned female looking figure in the center, which is holding onto the two other figures on each side of the ring shaped object (or it's the two figures holding onto the female?). The figures themselves look rather goulish, deadly or skeletal, with their bone structure clearly visible and all their expressions captured in a mix of horror or torment. The small carved-in lines coming from the middle figure's eye sockets also resemble black tears, much like we've seen on "The Mother" in Awakening.

There's also no sign of clothing, which is all the more apparent on the concept art of the idol, in which the breast of the middle figure is.. much more prominent. lol (We don't make fun of saggy boobs in this house, it's just nature and gravity after all, but for the sake of observation, I will note that they do remind me of Broodmother boobs, too 😂), aside from a hint of what could be a veil on the middle figure's head.

At the bottom of the idol, the lower bodies of the figures seem to fully submerge within its name-giving red lyrium and this "claw" type thing, which is coming off in the shape of crystalline red lyrium spikes at the tail end, though in the concept art and the DA2 model, these spikes were clearly more like red lyrium roots. But either way, the bottom makes it kinda look like it's been broken/ripped off?

We can also see tentacle like features, that remind me of the figures we've seen in the mural in the 2020 teaser and the depiction in the 25th anniversary book that revealed to us what the Archdemons were initially supposed to look like. 👀

I'd also like to point out that in the original concept art of the idol, the ears of the crowned figure look much more pointy to me than in later versions. 👀

There's also this "ring", that I've seen many people connect to how the Veil is often portrayed in Solas' murals.

But if this ring is supposed to depict the Veil, then what could it mean for the crowned figure reaching across to hold that ominous third figure on the "other side"?

And yes, I recognize that this ominous third figure also seems to be missing a left arm, just like another certain main character. 👀

The one thing that stands out the most though, is probably the crown itself. Most people might first associate it with Andraste, when the same shape can be traced as far back as ancient statues of Mythal.

Yeah, there's definitely a pattern here. 😂

That being said…

Connection to Mythal & Solas

Okay, we all know about the theory that Andraste might have been Mythal's previous host, right? We all know about the parallels between Mythal's story, Andraste, Flemeth, etc. And after comparing the idol to Flemeth and Meredith in their moment of death, considering all of the above/following and how old this thing potentially is, I will now make a wild guess here and argue that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death.

"He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other. But I could not make out the words, for I fear they were elven."

Not only does Solas seem to hold sentimental value for whoever the crowned figure is supposed to be, while also talking to it in elven, but the way he describes to "caress" the idol in Tevinter Nights does also seem to mirror how Flemythal was comforting him at the end of DAI.

However, I always thought it was a bit odd how Solas describes the idol as "a figure comforting another", when… tbh, "comforting" would probably be last thing that comes to my mind when I look at this...

"Agony" would be more fitting here, maybe? lol Kinda begs the question of how Mythal was murdered, too, with this being her expression in her moment of death? 👀

Without getting too much into it here, if there's one thing we can take from everything we've learned so far about their past, Solas' relationship with Mythal must've been a rather complicated one, to say the least.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

Solas calls Mythal "the best of the elven gods", calling her "the mother, protective and fierce", and Solas is even described in the designer's notes as "Mythal's oldest friend" who is all about free will, yet if the spirit origin theory is true and Cole's cryptic comments in Trespasser are in fact about them, it was Mythal who gave Solas a body against his will, potentially bound/enslaved him with her vallaslin, and maybe even forced him to act against his original purpose?

"You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight."

Cole: "You didn't do it to be right. You did it to save them." Inquisitor: "Solas, what is Cole talking about?" Solas: "A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything."

How much of what happened was Solas acting out Mythal's will, or rather, acting out of vengeance and pain in reaction to Mythal's death? How much of it was him acting downright impulsive?

Solas: “Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.” Varric: “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.” Solas: “You don’t. A spirit can.”

Or was it Mythal's death itself that "wounded him and perverted him from his purpose", just like he described what happened to Cole?

And what does that say about Mythal then, when she clearly hasn't forgiven her murderers and still strives for vengeance after all this time? What if Solas' own perception of Mythal and all the circumstances surrounding her murder is warped because he was once bound to her? 👀

Anyway. To get back to topic.

So if we assume that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death, then that brings us to the next question of why the idol is even made of red lyrium? Or rather, what is Mythal's connection to red lyrium?

We know that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan. Mythal was the first to kill a Titan and mine their blood for things we won't get into in this post. So, how did the idol end up in the Deep Roads, anyway? How long had it been there? One thing that's kinda strange to me, is how the DA wiki page about the idol says that it was forged by the dwarves, solely based on the fact that it was initially found in the Deep Roads, when we have no actual evidence for that. We've seen statues of both Mythal and the Dread Wolf in the Deep Road section in Trespasser where the mining of lyrium was undergone, but we don't know if the dwarves even had any part in building them as well.

Would the dwarves forge an idol of the elven deity who conquered them and killed their Titan, if they were somehow forced to do so? We also have to remember that dwarves were and still are the only ones able to actually mine raw lyrium safely, but even the Carta dwarves in Tevinter Nights had to take several precautions in order to recover the red lyrium idol from Meredith's corpse. And even then, many of them still fell shaking or went mad in its presence like Bartrand.

So if it only takes that little exposure to have that much of an effect on someone's sanity, how were the ancient dwarves or anyone even able to create it in the first place? What if the idol was initially made of blue lyrium but was then somehow corrupted?

And if we take one moment to really think about what an idol actually is.

"An object representing extreme devotion and religious worship to a god."

While Solas doesn't think of any of the Evanuris as actual gods, he still seems to hold Mythal at such a high regard that he wouldn't even speak of her at a sacred place like the Temple of Mythal (whether or not that was because he just wanted to withhold any secret ancient knowledge). He's able to fully recite the invocation to Mythal if you bring him with you to her altar. He also looks exactly like the sentinels in Mythal's temple.

I could go on, but generally speaking, there are so many little hints pointing to Solas being a former slave/servant of Mythal that, again, we won't get into here, but it's important to mention when trying to figure out why the idol (presumably) even belongs to Solas.

"The idol's journey is now complete, and it has found its master."

In Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf claims that the red lyrium idol belongs to him. He also made sure to punish those who tried to misuse it, going so far as to march in with an entire army of spirits and snapping a guy's neck with his jaw. (Yup, you're better off not to touch the Dread Wolf's stuff for dirty blood rituals, kids.)

"You use my idol carelessly, and in doing so, you threaten all creation."

Additionally, in the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, Charter and other spies conclude that Solas must need the idol for whatever ritual he's planning, while Solas in Bard disguise claims that he's already in possession of the idol now and therefore, I quote, "cannot be stopped". (Though I personally still don't actually buy a single thing about his vivid tale at that auction house, but we'll get back to this later. lol)

And if the idol belongs to Solas, was he the one who created it, or did he order the dwarves or someone else to make it for him? But why would he intentionally make an idol out of red lyrium, anyway? He is fully aware of the dangers and corruption that comes with being exposed to red lyrium and its use. Especially considering that red lyrium is blighted and how he repeatedly expresses great concern over the Blights and gets furious over the Grey Wardens' attempts to preempt them by killing the Archdemons (because he obviously knows more than us).

So, does he know a way to use it without getting corrupted like everyone else? The Seekers of Truth are so far the only ones we've seen to be immune to red lyrium thanks to having their minds touched by a spirit of Faith during their vigil. Could Solas' connection to spirits/his hypothetical spirit origin allow him to use the idol without it effecting him?

But if any of this is true, then l'm again asking myself what even was the purpose of the idol to begin with? Why or when was it created? How does it differ from any other red lyrium, and what could Solas have used it for in the ancient past?

Powers & Effects

So, let's talk about what this thing can actually do (as far as we know).

(Btw, this is the part where I will shamelessly copy a lot straight from the DA wiki, because truth be told, I'm just a German struggling with limited vocabulary and I figured there's simply no way to summarize this any better than the wiki already has. 💀)

Just like any other red lyrium, we know that being exposed to the idol for too long will make you mad/paranoid/possessive/violent, while also grant you special powers, until overuse causes your body to be completely overtaken by red lyrium. It seems to thin the Veil wherever it is currently kept, allowing spirits or demons to interact with the physical world.

It also emanates a song that is slowly turning people who hear it insane.

The Song

"It sings… sick music." "It eats you inside until you're nothing." "It creeps into your thoughts, humming." "They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done." "Songs screaming far away. It wants to wake up but can't remember how."

(- Cole's comments about red lyrium/red templars)

After Bartrand took the idol and left Varric and Hawke to die in the primeval Thaig, he started hearing voices, claiming the idol was "singing" to him. Even after selling it, Bartrand could still hear the idol and was eventually driven mad by its red lyrium.

Three years later, it is discovered that Bartrand had chipped a piece of the idol off and left it in his estate, which causes the house to behave like it was haunted and the Veil was torn.

Then during the "Haunted" quest, Varric himself remarks several times to hear music while walking through the estate, much like the Carta assassin in Tevinter Nights recalled to have heard "music in the wind, like some old song I heard as a kid but can't quite remember" when obtaining the idol from Meredith's corpse.

Important to mention here is that Varric seems to also be the only one in the party able to hear this song.

Varric: "Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?" Hawke: "In don't hear anything." Varric: "Where is that singing coming from? You hear it, right, Hawke?" Varric: "Where is that voice coming from?" Hawke: "What voice?" Varric: "I can barely hear it… I wish I could make out the words."

Varric also told us that, after Bartrand went mad, he tortured his non-dwarven servants by cutting pieces off them to help them "hear the song".

(And remember, the idol was found in an ancient primeval Thaig in the Deep Roads, sitting on something like an altar, indicating that it was being worshiped by the ancient dwarves as well. Presumably because they too were being influenced by the idol's/red lyrium's song?)

Haunted

During the "Haunted" quest, we learn that the mere presence of a shard of the idol in the estate causes:

"Voices whispering in the walls"

Random objects moving on their own

Apparitions/screaming spirits appear running across the floors

When Varric picks up the piece of the idol, he starts to exhibit the same symptoms of madness Bartrand showed, at which point Hawke can either let Varric keep the piece, or can take it from him with the intent of having Sandal destroy it.

If Hawke asks Anders to diagnose Bartrand in Act 2, he suspects a demon at work, however Bartrand is a dwarf. Instead, he determines that "his mind has been poisoned by something powerful".

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin recalls that, in the attempt to retrieve the idol from Meredith's corpse, most of his colleagues fell shaking and whispering the closer they got to it.

Meredith

After Bartrand sold the idol to Meredith, she reshapes it into her sword Certainty, which does eventually drive her insane as well. It also gives her unnatural powers, such as the ability to animate the statues in the Gallows, and even limited flight capabilities.

(My question is though, were the things happening in that final fight directly caused by the idol or was this just the result of the Veil being already weakened that much by the many terrible things that happened at that place/Kirkwall in general?)

Anyhow, during the final battle at the Gallows, Meredith overuses the lyrium sword, causing it to burst into dust and petrify her into a statue.

Though as we all know now, some part of Meredith seems to have survived somehow, as her… mind(?) or something was shown to now still "live" within the red lyrium somewhere in Kirkwall at the end of Absolution. She (or "it") also seems to have somewhat control over the red templars now, too.

So, how is this possible? What exactly is she now, if it even is herself and not just a manifestation/echo of her memories or something? Could it have something to do with the idol? No one really knows (and we might never find out, if Netflix won't give us a second season, anyway lol), but I do think it's curious how the idol is likely depicting Mythal's death, who didn't actually die either and lived on through the ages as a type of lingering "wisp" clinging to various hosts. 👀

I also want to point out how Solas did suspiciously include Meredith's petrified corpse in his mural in the 2020 teaser as well, placing her right under that ominous upside down figure with the tentacles.

Furthermore, just like Meredith, the idol also seems to be somewhat indestructable. lol After Meredith's sword burst into dust, it regrew inside her petrified corpse (which Solas was apparently also aware of). What's interesting is that it regenerated in Meredith's chest of all places. You know, like, where the heart is supposed to be? 👀

Then there's also this curious line from Anders, when talking about Varric acting strange after obtaining a shard of the idol:

"This thing's magic seems only more potent when broken."

I've mentioned it before, but with the spikes (or roots in DA2) at the bottom part of the idol making it look like it was ripped or broken off of something, you have to wonder if its current state is somewhat broken, even after regenerating.

"Hot-Blooded"

During the Haunted quest, Fenris will remark this:

"Whatever is here is angry."

In DAI, Cole repeatedly comments on how red lyrium feels "very angry" and how it is "less angry when it's cold". We know for a fact that red lyrium emanates a noticeable heat. A corrupted Bartrand is especially weak to cold/ice magic.

While anger is generally associated with heat, I find this aspect particularly interesting, given that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan.

And building on that, while still searching for further connections between red lyrium, the idol and Mythal… Remember how the ancient sarcophagus in the Blue Wraith and Dark Fortress comic was used in a ritual, in which lyrium combined with fire of a Great dragon carved lyrium infused markings into Fenris' and Shirallas' skin, granting them special powers.

Not only was this ancient sarcophagus specifically built only for elves, and its design resembling that of Mythal's statues…

…but here we have a case in which lyrium is purposefully "set on fire" by a Great dragon to create "elven super soldiers". Mythal is always depicted as a dragon. And she mined lyrium in humongous amounts.

Again, red lyrium emanates heat. If this was common practice in ancient times, then I feel like it's not surprising that a Titan would eventually be pretty damn angry in reaction to its blood being continuously burned for centuries [insert boiling blood joke here].

So, aside from the red lyrium being blighted, could there be a connection in Mythal burning the Titans' blood? As far as we know, it did take a couple of aeons in which Mythal (presumably) continued to mine (and burn?) the Titans' blood, before the ancient elves sealed the Deep Roads for good, because they discovered something… bad. As Solas himself declares in the vision described at the mural depicting a Titan's death:

"Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger." "The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic." "Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast."

And there it is again. That anger we're talking about. What's so interesting to me, is how this does sort of come full circle with Mythal and the idol after all, since the motivation behind Mythal's actions, even after thousands of years, remains her unwavering desire for vengeance upon the people who betrayed and murdered her, which, in a way, does mirror the same anger/heat that the Titan is emanating from its tainted blood.

And speaking of blood……

A Ritual Blade

In Tevinter Nights, we learned that the idol is able to produce a blade, which is then used as part of a blood magic ritual.

"The Tevinter mage was killing his slaves. […] He had cut the throat of one of them, and then another, catching the blood of his victims on the idol as he made his way around the circle. […] The Tevinter mage raised the idol before him, and I saw a spike of lyrium spring from the base of the idol, so that all at once, it was not merely an idol, but a ritual blade. He slashed his own hand, and a wave of power pulsed through the cavern. It was as though we were the blood, and the cavern was the body through which it flowed, and we fell, all of us, to the ground, our minds pulled into the raw chaos of the Fade by the power of his ritual."

In the end of the Dark Fortress comic, the idol produced another red lyrium sword, that could be fully detached and was then placed onto the before-mentioned sarcophagus, turning Shirallas into a raving beserker that was pretty much invincible as long as he was in possession of that same sword.

While the blue lyrium infused sword that was used in Fenris' ritual simply dissolved in the process, the sword produced by the idol could "regenerate" and was especially resistant to Great dragon fire.

"Unlike the lyrium-infused swords of the so-called Arcane warriors, this sword should survive the ritual."

In the final fight against him, Marquette comments on how Shirallas "feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins" and how in turn "the sword heals his wounds".

So in both the comic and Tevinter Nights, the idol/the weapon produced from the idol seems to draw power specifically from the blood of its wielder. It makes me wonder if it was initially intended to be used this way, since we have to remember that it still presumably belongs to Solas, who claims to not practice blood magic, because it seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade.

Which is ironic, given what the mage in Tevinter Nights did to disrupt the Fade, but also how the Magisters Sidereal used a massive blood ritual to enter the Fade physically.

And oddly enough, in your first conversation with Solas about blood magic, he makes this curious analogy with daggers as an example…

Inquisitor: Every time I've seen blood magic used, it has been for some evil purpose. Solas: I once saw a woman being stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. She died slowly, in angony. It was repulsive. If the Chantry outlawed daggers, would that stop the people from using it? Of course not. […]" Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

So… Could Solas be referencing Mythal's death here? Or what if the dagger here is referring to the idol in its blade form? What the heck does he mean by "I suppose it depends upon the dagger"? Was a slave's life sacrificed to create the idol maybe?

But if blood magic wasn't the sole purpose for why it was made, then what else could the idol as a ritual blade be used for?

Which brings us to…

Dalish mythology

According to Dalish legends, Fen'Harel told the Creators and the Forgotten Ones that the Avvar had forged a "terrible weapon", a blade that would end the war between both clans of gods. He told the Creators that it was forged in the heavens, while the Forgotten Ones were told that it was hidden in the Abyss. And when the gods went seeking it, Fen'Harel sealed them both in their realms forever.

Okay. So, let's just assume for a second that the blade in this legend was actually the idol in its blade form. Because hell, what are the odds of having two "super powerful ancient blades that belong to Solas"? lol

If they are in fact the same weapon and the part about Solas tricking the gods is true, why were the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones so eager to get this thing, to the point that they would fell into a trap?

And with this, I'd also like to point out the level design in the scene in which Flemeth takes Kieran's Old God soul in the Fade. I can't help but feel like the statue of Dirthamen being stabbed in the back with a sword, crying a stream of blood, resulting in a huge pool of blood, as well as a bloody ouroboros symbol on the ground, is a very deliberate design choice. Especially considering the context of this scene with the revelation about Flemeth and Mythal, I'd argue this is all in reference to how Mythal was betrayed and murdered.

Again, the idol could depict Mythal in her moment of death. In the final fresco in the rotunda, the one Solas never finished before leaving the Inquisition, we see a wolf looming over a dragon slain by a blade.

In the last visual of the 2022 cinematic that, going by Varric's narration, could potentially depict the destruction of the Veil, Solas appears to hold something that resembles a blade with a very destinct handle. Additionally, we've since discovered an icon hidden on the Steam page of DA4, that shows a dagger with an identical shape and the same glowy purple as the Dreadwolf title.

So we have the idol in its blade form, the blade Mythal was potentially slain with, the blade Solas is holding in the 2022 cinematic, Solas mentioning a dagger in relation to blood magic and Fen'Harel's blade in Dalish legends.

That's a lot of blades... and a lot of blood. lol

The Hunt of the Fell Wolf

"The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" is the title of a poem that can be found in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC. It tells a story of former Inquisitor Ameridan, his friend Haron and their fight against a demon wolf.

Along with numerous odd things in this tale that could be interpreted as some kind of metaphor (or just the devs messing with us, if you want to know more, please check out this post), it also mentions an "idol of fade-touched stone" in connection to the demon wolf.

The wounded knight in darkness Found within the cavern’s gloom An idol of fade-touched stone, Which could prove the monster’s doom.

In the poem, after a grim fight, the wolf takes Ameridan's friend Haron to its lair, a "labyrinth of winding cave" (which many believe is referring to the Deep Roads, just like the ancient Thaig in DA2 where Hawke and Varric found the red lyrium idol originally) where Haron, oddly enough, also happens to find an idol. What's intruiging though, is that this idol seems to be connected to the wolf in such a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

With burning blade, Ameridan And monster met again Whilst elsewhere did Haron valiantly With demon-wards contend.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

"Beast and spirit—both felled at once"

Two entities that are connected across two different places… as in the physical body and the spirit maybe?

As in the waking world and the Fade?

So, let's reiterate.

The red lyrium idol belongs to the Dread Wolf. Cole remarks how he can feel that Solas is "in both places". The word "Dread Wolf" itself is an anagram for "World" and "Fade". We've talked about the popular spirit origin theory before, Solas taking a physical form against his will because of Mythal. The whole matter of Solas' "true name" before he called himself Pride. Solas' entire personal quest, which may or may not mirror his own past, a spirit of Wisdom being denied its original purpose, turning into a pride demon ("He wants to give wisdom not orders"). His strange remarks at the end of Cole's personal quest ("We cannot change our nature by wishing"). The fact that Solas makes Cole forget about his true identity, just like spirit!Cole does. The visual portrayal of Solas "consuming" Flemeth's powers at the end of DAI. The way in which Solas doesn't recognize anyone in the waking world as "people", but will vehemently debate you on why spirits should be considered people.

"But the People… They need me." (- Solas to Flemeth at the end of DAI) "Never again." (- Solas after burning the mages who were responsible for Wisdom's corruption) "From this moment, should you ever bind a spirit, your life is mine." (- the Dread Wolf's final warning to the mages in Tevinter Nights)

All of this considered, what could the poem in JOH imply for the connection between Solas and the Dread Wolf/the Dread Wolf and the idol?

"They made bodies from the Earth, and the Earth was afraid. It fought back, but they made it forget."

One theory assumes that the creation of the Veil lead to the separation of the ancient elves' bodies and their souls/spirits, assuming that before the creation of the Veil, the Evanuris somehow made bodies from the Titans/lyrium for spirits to manifest and then enslaved/bound them to their will by marking those bodies with their vallaslin.

But if that's true, then what happened to Solas when he created the Veil?

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap."

In all the murals, tarot cards and illustrations, the Dread Wolf and Solas are always depicted separately.

What really IS the Dread Wolf? And what is he to Solas?

"It was a beast unlike any I had ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons."

From what little we know of the Dread Wolf himself, he only seems to exist within the Fade (that is to say, before the Veil, Solas was already depicted as a wolf, presumably even before his rebellion and before the Evanuris "bestowed" him with the title "Fen'Harel"). In the Mortalitasi's tale in Tevinter Nights, his army of spirits follows the mages back to the waking world, yet the Dread Wolf himself remains in the Fade. In one of the frescoes in the rotunda, Solas portrays the Black City surrounded by the six burning red eyes that resemble those of the Dread Wolf, almost like he's keeping watch over the eternal prison of those he banished. In the Tower tarot card, the Dread Wolf is ominously looming over Solas, almost like it's about to consume him, while in one of the Trespasser murals, it looks more like the Dread Wolf follows his lead. And then there's the DA4 2018 teaser mural, in which they're opposing each other, only seperated by the red lyrium idol in the center of the Veil.

If the red lyrium idol is connected to Solas like the idol in the poem is connected to the wolf, could this be part of the reason Solas is so desperate to find it? Does it possess some kind of spirit? Can the Dread Wolf only be defeated if the idol is destroyed at the same time, just like in the poem?

Where is it now?

So where's the damn thing now?

Well, in my opinion, there are two options.

Option 1) The bard's tale in Tevinter Nights was complete bullshit. lol

Despite Solas trying to convince us that he already obtained the idol in a vault some time ago under an auction house in Llomerryn, it's possible that, much like his whole charade in that chapter, this tale was also entirely fabricated. lol

To make it short, here is a list of arguments for why the "bard's tale" could've been a complete lie:

Solas attended this spy meeting specifically for information on the idol's whereabouts (because he doesn't actually know where it is currently?).

Everything until the last two pages was an act.

Both the Mortalitasi and the Carta Assassin point out several contradictions within his tale.

Upon hearing the other spies assuming that he needs the idol, it would just make sense that he would want them/Charter to believe that he’s now in possession of the idol and “cannot be stopped”, so that they would drop all effort to find it before him.

On the very last page of the book, there's a lists of bullet points of information when Charter is about to write down her report, and it does not explicitly say “He has the idol” but rather just what it looks like, which suggests that Charter didn’t buy his story either.

So if this was all lies, the last known location of the idol would therefore be the unknown person who took it when escaping from the Dread Wolf's spirit army in the Grand Necropolis in the tale of the Mortalitasi.

Meaning that Solas would therefore still be searching for it now. (Which would actually be kind of hilarious, considering how there's likely gonna be a ten year timeskip since DAI, so he would've been searching for the flippin thing for the better part of a decade now. 😂 We know from the end of the Blue Wraith comics that he had followed the idol's path via eluvian, but maybe he just lost track of it at some point? In fact, the last we heard from him, Solas was apparently busy pursuing some Venatori people to get another ancient artifact called the Crucious Stone in the The Missing comic, much like he prevented the Tevinter mage in Nevarra from using his idol. Solas after ten years of searching for the idol was probably like "Oh fuck it, I give up, on to McGuffin Nr 2 then". lmao)

In an interview with the comic writers Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir, they talked about how in their initial draft of Dark Fortress, Solas actually *got* the idol(!!) from two of his agents by using the eluvian located at Nenealeus' place before BioWare stepped in and requested a change. 👀 That version would've explained how Solas was able to track the idol through the eluvian we see at the end. Their own interpretation was that Solas can only overlook a certain radius within the area of where another eluvian is located. Which would actually support the assumption that Solas might've lost track of the idol at some point after Nenealeus left the place… but that's just their interpretation and not official BioWare canon (yet), sooo…. Hm.

Option 2) Solas has the idol now.

So let's assume that the part about him obtaining the idol in Tevinter Nights was actually true and it's now in his possession.

Aside from this, the only thing that could speak for Solas already having the idol in the beginning of DA4, is once again the final visual in the 2022 cinematic.

If this cinematic is in fact playing at the beginning of the game as a general re-introduction to the lore and the last visual is depicting Solas in the middle of destroying the Veil using the idol, then.. well yeah, there it is, in his hand…. at least, for now. Making Solas succeed in the first 10 minutes, I guess? lol

……Unless!

See, a few years ago, I speculated about how the idol might actually be the perfect plot device/motivation for our new protagonist to get involved in the whole Solas deal without even knowing who he is.

Let's say the last visual in the 2022 cinematic is actually showing us a hypothetical scenario, and not something that has already happened/is currently happening. Like, Varric gives this expository narration explaining who Solas is and what might happen if we don't succeed in getting the idol. (Notice how Varric says "And we're the only ones who can stop him" at the end… Like there's still a chance to stop him before this actually happens.) We know from Tevinter Nights that Charter knows that Solas needs the idol for whatever ritual he's planning. And Charter obviously informed the Inquisition/Varric about this as well. So the next logical step for the Inquisition now would be to obtain the idol (whether or not the bard's tale in TN was true) to prevent this ritual at any cost, right?

The comic The Missing re-emphasized that Varric is now in charge of getting people that Solas doesn't know. And this might be where the new protagonist gets recruited by Varric (who is still a spymaster after all) and gets assigned the alias "Rook" for a heist mission to obtain the idol. (And after a very thorough observation of the DA4 reddit leaks from 2023… it looks like Rook might've actually succeeded in this potential quest?)

While we don't know when the stuff in the leaks actually takes place within DA4's storyline, I think it's safe to say that Rook will obtain the idol at some point in the story and that it will play a pivotal role, if the blurb on the Steam page for DA4 is to be believed. lol

As well as what could likely end up being the game's icon, found on the Steam page.

And again, remember how in the Hunt of the Fell Wolf poem, it seemed like Ameridan struck the wolf’s body in the waking world, while his friend Haron killed the spirit (inside the idol?) in the Fade. What could this imply for DA4 then, if we are applying the role of Ameridan, Haron and the wolf in this tale to the Inquisitor, Rook and Solas?? 👀 Is this how we can stop him? The Inquisitor confronts Solas in the waking world, while Rook has to destroy the idol/fight the Dread Wolf in the Fade?

Or could it just be a metaphor for the Inquisitor in DA4 keeping Solas occupied to distract him from Rook, while they can figure out another secret way to deal with him/how to get/destroy the idol?

See, the thing is, we have to remember that this is after all, a video game. lol Meaning that, if our protagonist gets to carry around a powerful ancient artifact/weapon, I would assume that this has to be somehow implemented in the gameplay as well. What we can take from the short footage of the 2023 reddit leak, is that Rook might carry the idol (if it really IS the same thing) while still fighting with their own main weapon in combat. So, what if the idol serves as more of a special power tool outside of combat, for example, like the anchor did in DAI, where it can only be used for special occasions? Let's say, the idol in its blade form can't be used in battle but is able to "split" the Veil or reality, like the anchor was able to open and close rifts? Or, if we assume that the idol is something like an ancient phylactery (which btw is my favorite theory and I will talk about in my second post), maybe it can be used as some kind of "tracking device"? Actually, I'm super curious to learn how Rook is even able to carry it like this in the first place, since we know what kind of effect it usually has on people. lol

~~~~~

Anyway, I'll make a hard cut here now and save the rest of this behemoth of a post for a second separate post (because I also just realized that tumblr doesn't let me add any more images 😂💀), so if any of you actually made it this far... thank you for being just as crazy as me about this and I will post the second part shortly after. lol ❤

[honeyhae-svt]

🎮01 | Schedule🎭

Part-Time Lover | JxW - masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: strong language (profanity), petty arguments, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor. (thats about it in this chapt) smut warnings: n/a (yet) wc: 4600

01

It was a normal Monday—or, well, as normal as it could be after two weeks of working as a make-up artist at the top beauty company in the industry. Two weeks in, and instead of painting glamorous looks on celebrities and idols, you were running out of the office, battling public transit, just to fetch your CEO his daily coffee from a café so exclusive it required two bus transfers and possibly your sanity.

You weren't a secretary. You weren't an errand girl. You were a licensed, certified make-up artist for crying out loud! Yet somehow, in this strange hierarchy of tasks, you'd managed to become both his personal coffee runner and his private, exclusive make-up artist. Every morning, bright and early, you trekked to his ridiculously luxurious penthouse to "work your magic"—a process that usually involved two dabs of foundation, some lip balm, and you expertly applying his skincare routine.

Why did he need skincare at 6 a.m.? He didn't. He was the type of guy whose flawless complexion could sell serums just by existing. But apparently, making your life harder was his morning cardio.

This morning was no different. The croissant you grabbed was warm when you bought it. The coffee—a very specific order of Jeonghan's signature honey macchiato, no sugar, extra foam—was piping hot when handed to you. By the time you plopped it onto his pristine desk, though, it was "too cold" for his tastes. Of course, he wouldn't ask you to reheat it, because "it's not freshly made anymore," as he oh-so-smugly liked to remind you. But that smug little smile he flashed before you left his office? Oh, that was the cherry on top.

Jerk.

By the time you returned to the studio, the models were already lined up, waiting for their faces to be transformed. A much better use of your talent, if you said so yourself. As you worked, your co-workers showered you with praise during the break. 'You're doing amazing for someone so new!' they gushed. And sure, maybe part of you wondered if they were being extra nice because they knew you were being run ragged by the boss. But still, you let yourself bask in the compliments. You deserved it.

Flashback to two weeks ago, your interview day.

It was supposed to be the start of something great. A fresh chapter, a dream job. And yet, from the moment your toe slammed into the edge of your side table that morning, you knew the universe had other plans. By the time you boarded the bus, traffic had already declared war on your schedule. And if that wasn't bad enough, when you finally made it to the company's towering glass headquarters, you collided with some guy in the lobby—face-first, right into his shoulder.

He didn't even flinch. You, on the other hand, hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Your skirt askew, your blouse wrinkled, and your pride in shambles, you scrambled to your feet and mumbled a hasty apology before bolting toward the interview room.

The interview itself went well—at least, you thought so—until someone pointed out the blood trickling down your knee. Apparently, you'd scraped it in the fall but had been so focused on making it on time, you didn't even notice. Typical you. Priorities, right?

Back in the present, you can't help but think: maybe your boss's smugness, the ridiculous coffee runs, and his insistence on morning skincare aren't random. Maybe this job is some kind of cosmic test. Either way, you're determined to ace it—even if it means surviving another 6 a.m. call time at his penthouse tomorrow.

After slipping into your gaming chair, you took a deep breath, brushing back stray strands of hair as you adjusted your bunny-ear headphones. The LED lights of your room, set to a soft pink glow, reflected faintly on the camera feed. Your overlay—a minimalistic design featuring your username in sleek gold letters—flashed as the stream began. The familiar ding of chat messages filling up the screen brought a faint, almost imperceptible smile to your face.

"Evening, chat," you said, voice calm, almost bored, as your hand moved the mouse effortlessly to launch the game. "Let's make this quick. I have a meeting at seven tomorrow."

The chat exploded, as expected:

- "LOOKING SO CUTE IN OFFICE CLOTHES?!" - "MISS BOSS LADY ATE THIS LOOK." - "Wait, you have a job?!" - "Noooo don't stop streaming full-time T_T."

You scrolled through, giving a few nods to the flood of comments, before spotting the one you dreaded seeing. "You're boring," it read, the username unmistakably @everyone-woo.

You rolled your eyes and muttered, "Wouldn't be here if I was." That was enough to set your chat into a frenzy.

Wonwoo. That guy was a walking headache wrapped in a smooth voice and annoyingly skilled gameplay. Ever since Seungkwan introduced you two at that gaming expo, he'd made it his life's mission to be a thorn in your side—whether in streams, ranked matches, or random Discord voice chats. But, if you were honest, your win record against him was one of your greatest flexes.

The game lobby loaded, and your fingers moved automatically to adjust the settings. You glanced at chat once more before you dove in. "You're loud today. Let's see if you'll keep that energy when we hit Master rank tonight," you said, raising an eyebrow. That earned a fresh wave of excitement from your fans.

- "She said MASTER RANK tonight." - "SHE'S TOO CONFIDENT???" - "wonwoo crying rn"

But just as you were about to start, a Discord notification pinged in your headset. Of course, it was him.

@everyone_woo: "Play duo with me, coward." You sighed. Why was he always like this? Ignoring him wasn't an option because you knew he'd just spam you until you caved. So, begrudgingly, you invited him to the match.

The loading screen transitioned into the game's map, a vibrant cityscape filled with sniper points, tight alleyways, and glowing neon signs. You were on a high-stakes mission to extract rare data cores while eliminating rival players. The game began, and your hands flew over the keyboard, your voice sharp and commanding.

"Cover the left, and don't get caught out again," you barked over comms as you eliminated two enemies in rapid succession. "You act like I don't know how to play,"Wonwoo replied, his tone smooth. "Just focus on not dying this time." "I don't die. I win," you shot back, smirking as you caught him lagging behind and threw a smoke grenade his way, effectively trapping him while you took out another enemy solo. The chat went wild:

- "WONWOO CARRIED IN SMOKE RN LMFAOO." - "MISS OFFICE LADY DOESN'T PLAY." - "IMAGINE LOSING TO HER AGAIN."

By the end of the match, you'd racked up MVP with an impressive kill streak, while Wonwoo was a distant second. Your fans cheered in chat, throwing praise and laughing at Wonwoo's apparent frustration.

"GG, everyone," you said, leaning back in your chair as you took a sip of water. "GG?" Wonwoo scoffed. "You call bullying your teammate GG?" "You deserved it," you replied, not missing a beat.

He chuckled, and for a moment, the teasing dropped, his voice softer. "You're getting better, you know. If you keep this up, I might have to actually try."

You paused, caught off guard by the rare, genuine compliment. But before you could reply, he added, "Or maybe I'll just start taking all the credit for training you."

"And there it is," you muttered, shaking your head. The chat roared with laughter as you ended the match and turned back to engage with your fans, leaving Wonwoo behind to stew in his defeat.

As the stream wound down and the camera focused on your face, you finally smiled—a small, tired one that barely reached your eyes. "Thanks for watching, guys. See you next time."

You clicked the stream off and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The adrenaline was fading, and reality crept back in. Work tomorrow. Rent due next week. Your mom's treatments. It was a lot, but you'd manage.

You always did.

The next day, you were already too irritated to function properly. It was too early for this. You groggily squinted at your phone. 3:37 a.m. in. the. fucking. morning., and it wouldn't stop ringing. Seriously, who calls at this ungodly hour?

You glanced at the caller ID and groaned. Jeonghan. Of course. The man really didn't believe in boundaries.

With a heavy sigh, you swiped to answer, your voice equal parts sleepy and annoyed. "Hello?"

For a moment, there was no response. Just silence on the other end. What kind of sick joke was this? You were about two seconds away from hanging up when his voice finally came through.

"I have a meeting early today. Come get me set."

And just like that, the call ended.

You stared at your phone in disbelief, blinking slowly as if processing what had just happened. "What the actual fuck?" you muttered to no one in particular.

Was this even legal? Well... yeah. It was in the contract. You knew it when you signed up for this job, but that didn't make it any less irritating. Begrudgingly, you dragged yourself out of bed and began to get ready.

By the time you arrived at Jeonghan's penthouse, the clock read 4:15 a.m., and your irritation was teetering dangerously close to snapping. The building's elevator ride to the top floor was silent save for the quiet hum of your thoughts: Why is this my life? You'd slept a grand total of three hours, and now you were about to do the minimalist, yet somehow necessary morning routine of your boss—a man whose face looked like it had been Photoshopped into reality.

You'd been here enough times that you were starting to get used to the spaciousness of the place, even though it screamed, I have more money than you'll ever see in your lifetime.

Knocking softly on the door to his bedroom, you waited for his reply before stepping in with your makeup kit in hand. Jeonghan was already in his usual spot, sitting gracefully in that ridiculously luxurious chair of his, looking like he'd just rolled out of a photoshoot.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think about how unfairly pretty he was. Sure, he was a man, but why did he look prettier than most women and still manage to be ruggedly handsome at the same time? It was like the universe had decided to give him every aesthetic advantage possible. And it wasn't just his looks. He had the personality to match—charming, charismatic, and annoyingly easygoing in a way that made everyone at work either idolize him or fall in love with him.

The man was running a beauty company, and somehow, just one look at him was enough to convince people to buy into the brand. Honestly? You got it.

Still, that didn't mean you were happy to be here at this ungodly hour.

"Morning," you muttered, setting down your kit and trying to sound professional despite wanting to scream into the void.

Jeonghan smirked, the kind of smirk that made you want to both slap him and admit he had the face of a god. "You look tired."

You froze, hands hovering over the foundation. "Gee, I wonder why."

His laughter was soft but infuriatingly smug. "It's in the contract, isn't it?"

You didn't bother to respond and got to work, dabbing foundation onto his already flawless skin. Why he even needed you for this routine was beyond you. His skin was perfect, like he bathed in unicorn tears or something. Honestly, you felt like this was less about necessity and more about his weird desire to mess with you.

"Stop glaring," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I'm not glaring," you shot back, pressing the sponge into his cheek just a little harder than necessary. "Just thinking about how ridiculous this is."

"You say that every morning, but you still show up," he pointed out, tilting his head slightly to let you apply concealer.

"Because it's my job, Jeonghan," you snapped, finishing up the final touches with a flourish.

He hummed thoughtfully, clearly enjoying your irritation. "You're very good at it, though. I'm starting to think I hired you for the wrong department."

You rolled your eyes and started packing up your kit. "You mean the department where I'm supposed to work on models and celebrities instead of you? Yeah, me too."

His laugh was annoyingly melodic, and you hated that it made you momentarily forget why you were pissed.

"Well," he said, standing and stretching—his shirt slipping off one shoulder in a way that felt way too intentional. "I do appreciate your dedication. Let's go."

"Go where?" you asked, blinking at him in confusion.

"To the meeting," he said casually, grabbing his blazer.

"Wait. You're dragging me along?"

"Of course," he said with a wink, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're my secret weapon."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. What the hell did that even mean? Whatever it was, you had a sinking feeling that your day was about to get a whole lot worse.

The meeting was held at a ridiculously upscale hotel that made you feel like you didn't belong the second you stepped into the marble-floored lobby. Jeonghan, of course, walked in like he owned the place—which, for all you knew, he might as well have.

You followed a step behind him, clutching your bag and trying to ignore how many people were staring at the two of you. Well, mostly him, you corrected silently. Jeonghan had that effect on people, making heads turn wherever he went. It was like his beauty made him untouchable, and yet here you were—running on fumes and three hours of sleep—dragged along like a reluctant sidekick.

The meeting room was filled with men in sharp suits and women in designer dresses. Everyone exuded confidence, their laughter and chatter echoing off the high ceilings. As Jeonghan sauntered in, the room seemed to quiet just a little, all eyes flicking toward him.

"CEO Yoon," one of the executives greeted with an overly polished smile. "Always a pleasure."

Jeonghan returned the greeting with a smile of his own—charming, disarming, and entirely fake. You could tell because you'd seen his real smiles, rare as they were, and they didn't have that calculated gleam.

You stood awkwardly near the back of the room, unsure of what to do. You weren't supposed to be here, really. The makeup part of your job was done, so why had he insisted on dragging you along? You were still wondering when Jeonghan turned to you, gesturing for you to come closer.

"Stay by my side," he said under his breath, his tone low enough that only you could hear.

Your eyebrows shot up. "Why? I don't even know what's going on."

"You don't need to." He flashed that infuriating smirk again before turning back to his associates.

The meeting began, and you quickly realized just how out of your depth you were. They were talking about brand expansions, marketing strategies, and other high-level corporate stuff that flew right over your head. Yet, every so often, Jeonghan would glance your way, as if silently checking to make sure you were still there.

It wasn't until about halfway through the presentation that you started to piece it together. The execs were pitching ideas for a new ad campaign, and every suggestion seemed to revolve around using make-up artists to market the brand.

Ah, you thought, your irritation bubbling back to the surface. So that's why I'm here.

Jeonghan leaned over, his voice barely above a whisper. "See? I told you you'd be useful."

You shot him a glare, barely resisting the urge to kick him under the table. "You could've just asked," you hissed back.

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied, his smirk widening.

The meeting dragged on for what felt like an eternity, with Jeonghan occasionally throwing you under the bus by mentioning your professional make-up abilities and asking for your "input." It was infuriating, especially since you weren't prepared, but somehow, you managed to string together a few coherent answers.

By the time it was over, you were seething. The second you were out of earshot of the execs, you rounded on Jeonghan.

"You used me," you said, jabbing a finger into his chest.

He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely unbothered. "I utilized your strengths. There's a difference."

"You dragged me out of bed at 3 a.m. for this. You didn't even warn me."

"You handled it well," he said simply, shrugging as if that was supposed to make everything better.

"You're a nightmare," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

"And yet," he said, his voice dropping to that annoyingly soft tone he used when he wanted to mess with you, "you keep showing up."

You opened your mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He was right, and you hated that.

"Let's get breakfast," he said casually, already heading toward the exit as if the argument never happened.

You stood there for a moment, torn between wanting to strangle him and being too exhausted to argue further. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you followed.

This job is going to kill me, you thought as you trailed after him, wondering why, despite everything, you couldn't bring yourself to quit.

The day had been long, but Jeonghan letting you off early felt like a rare, unexpected win. Maybe he wasn't entirely the devil in disguise. You got home earlier than usual, but exhaustion weighed down your every step.

Dropping onto your bed, you stared at the ceiling. You were too tired to do anything—too tired to even exist at this point—but the thought of skipping a stream wasn't an option. The donations from your loyal fanbase added up to a decent amount, enough to make a real difference for your mother's treatment.

For every two-hour stream, you usually pulled in somewhere around ₩200,000 to ₩500,000 (about 140 - 360 in USD) in donations, and that was on top of ad revenue and sponsorships. Not streaming meant losing that cash. You couldn't afford that luxury.

Dragging yourself up, you splashed cold water on your face, applied makeup to hide the evidence of your exhaustion, and slipped into your favorite hoodie and sweatpants—ultimate comfort mode. At least, this way, you could collapse straight into bed after the stream.

Once you were set up, you logged into League of Legends and hit the "Go Live" button. The familiar ding of viewers joining flooded your screen, and the chat started scrolling faster than you could read.

- "oh wow she's streaming early!!" - "How are you this pretty AND good at games?? life's unfair" - "no way this girl just got back from WORK and still streams for us 😭"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yeah, long day," you muttered, scrolling through the chat. "Let's just say it involved too much coffee and a certain boss who doesn't know boundaries."

The chat exploded with questions, but you quickly brushed them off. "Alright, enough about that. Let's play."

You loaded into Summoner's Rift and invited Mingyu and Hoshi to your party. Their voices came through your headset loud and clear.

"Finally," Mingyu said with a dramatic groan. "You took forever."

"Busy life," you replied flatly, your fingers already moving across the keyboard.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's see if you're still sharp after that 'busy life,'" Hoshi teased, laughter in his voice.

The three of you dove into the first match, the synergy between your champions clicking effortlessly. You picked Ahri, your favorite mid-laner, while Mingyu locked in Jhin as ADC and Hoshi went full chaos with Nautilus support.

The game started off smooth. You roamed bot to help Mingyu secure a double kill early, and Hoshi's crowd control locked down enemies like a pro. "Easy," you muttered, watching Ahri's Orb of Deception slice through their mid-laner.

The chat loved it, spamming:

- "SHE'S ON FIRE TODAY 🔥🔥🔥" - "carry them!"

But then, things took a turn.

A new match started, and suddenly, a mysterious player joined the enemy team. Their username was obnoxiously simple—W1NN3R—but their gameplay was anything but basic.

From the first five minutes, it was clear: this player was insanely good. They picked Zed and dominated mid-lane, completely shutting down your Ahri.

"What the fuck?" you muttered, narrowing your eyes as Zed solo-killed you under your turret. The chat immediately lit up.

- "REPORT THAT GUY OMG" - "hes gotta be scripting. no way."

Mingyu laughed through the comms. "You good over there? Or do I need to come babysit?"

"Shut up and focus on your own lane," you snapped, though your tone wasn't harsh.

Hoshi chimed in. "Seriously though, this guy's movement is nuts. Think he's cheating?"

"Doesn't matter," you muttered. "We'll handle it."

But "handling it" proved impossible. Zed didn't just dominate mid; he roamed with brutal efficiency, turning bot lane into a slaughterhouse and even outplaying Hoshi's Nautilus hooks.

The chat was losing its mind.

- "WHO IS THIS GUY?!" - "he's playing like Faker, wtf." - "Shes gonna snap, I feel it"

By the time the enemy Nexus was destroyed, you were glaring at your screen, jaw clenched.

"Rematch," you said flatly.

Mingyu snickered. "You sure? You look like you're about to throw your keyboard."

"Shut up and queue," you shot back.

The next match started, and, of course, W1NN3R was there again, picking Lee Sin this time. It felt personal now.

The early game was brutal. Lee Sin invaded your jungle, stealing buffs and setting your team back. By mid-game, he was everywhere—dragon pit, Baron lane, even popping out of bushes just to taunt you with an emote before disappearing.

"Okay, now I'm pissed," you muttered, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Join the club," Mingyu grumbled, watching his Jhin get obliterated in a 1v1.

But then something clicked. You and your team started coordinating like never before. You baited out Lee Sin's Flash with a well-timed Charm, Mingyu's ultimate picked off their ADC, and Hoshi's Nautilus hook finally nailed Lee Sin.

The chat erupted:

- "LET'S GOOOOOO!!!" - "comeback incoming??? 👀👀👀"

Your heart pounded as the match entered its final moments. With Lee Sin down, you and Mingyu pushed mid, taking out two inhibitors while Hoshi distracted the enemy team at Baron.

It was chaos, pure and simple, but in the end, you stood victorious as the enemy Nexus exploded.

"Fuck yeah!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in triumph. Mingyu and Hoshi whooped through the comms, and even Seungkwan—who had joined as a spectator—cheered.

The chat was in full celebration mode:

- "SHE DID IT OMGGGG" - "THAT WAS INSANE!!1" - "better than the LCK finals tbh"

But just as you were about to log off, a private message popped up on your screen from W1NN3R.

"Not bad, rookie."

Your jaw dropped. "The hell does that mean?"

"Looks like you've got a rival now," Mingyu teased, laughing.

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, though your lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, the faint glow of his monitor illuminating his face. His lips curved into a knowing smirk as he scrolled through @kitsunya's stream highlights on a private browser tab. The username was one he'd first come across by accident—or so he told himself. In truth, it was impossible not to hear about you.

For months, your name had been everywhere. His friends—Mingyu, Seungkwan, and even the perpetually chill Vernon—couldn't stop raving about you. "You have to see this girl play," Seungkwan had said during a casual hangout. "She's insane, like, not just good—insanely good." Mingyu had chimed in, grinning ear to ear, "Plus, she's got this vibe, man. You know, that 'I don't give a shit' attitude? People eat that up."

At first, Jeonghan had been indifferent. Streamers came and went, and he wasn't particularly interested in gaming content anymore. But the buzz around @kitsunya became impossible to ignore. Curiosity eventually got the better of him, and one night, he pulled up one of your streams on a whim.

You were playing League of Legends, your Ahri effortlessly decimating the enemy team. But it wasn't just your skill that struck him. It was your demeanor—calm, focused, and entirely unbothered by the chaos in the chat. The way you'd glance at the comments, roll your eyes at the ridiculous ones, and occasionally smirk when someone said something clever made you... different. You weren't trying to please anyone, yet people couldn't help but adore you.

And Jeonghan? He found himself watching more streams than he cared to admit.

The moment you walked into his office for the job interview months later, he recognized you instantly. You were dressed professionally, hair neatly styled, no hint of the gamer persona he'd seen on screen. But the moment you sat down, with that same composed, no-nonsense attitude, Jeonghan's suspicions were confirmed.

"Kitsunya," he had thought, barely able to keep the smirk off his face.

It was surreal. The person the internet simped over, the one who had his friends screaming in Discord chats, was sitting across from him, asking for a position at his company. You had no idea he knew. He decided then and there that he wouldn't tell you.

You were professional, articulate, and undeniably qualified for the role. He almost didn't hire you—not because you weren't good, but because he wondered if it was too much of a coincidence. What were the odds? But curiosity won. He wanted to see you up close, to figure out if the composed, almost unapproachable aura you projected was real—or just another layer of your persona.

And maybe, deep down, he wanted to test you. Not out of cruelty or envy—no, Jeonghan wasn't that petty. It was because he found you... interesting. There was something fascinating about the way you carried yourself, like you'd built walls so high no one could touch you. He wanted to see what was behind them.

Now, as he queued up for another match on League, the familiar sound of the loading screen filled his penthouse. He glanced at the username on his anonymous account: W1NN3R. It was a name he used only on this account—a throwaway he'd created for casual games. No one knew it was his alter account, not even his friends.

The match started, and as expected, your Ahri was mid-lane. Jeonghan leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand as his Zed effortlessly weaved through your skill shots. He wasn't going easy on you—not that you'd want him to. That much, he was certain of.

He smirked as he landed a flawless combo, taking you down under turret.

"The fuck?" Your voice filtered through the stream. Jeonghan chuckled.

He could hear Mingyu and Hoshi on comms, their playful banter trying to lighten the mood. But you weren't laughing. Your frustration was palpable, and the chat was eating it up.

- "WHO IS THIS GUY?!" - "he's toying with her 😭" - "Someone better REPORT."

Jeonghan's smirk widened. He wasn't trying to piss you off—not really. But he couldn't deny how entertaining it was to see you so riled up. The composed, unbothered streamer he'd admired was slipping, just a little, and he found it... captivating.

By the time the match ended, Jeonghan had secured victory, but not without effort. You and your team had pushed him to his limits in the late game, and for a brief moment, he thought he might lose.

As he typed a message in the game's chat—"Not bad, rookie."—he imagined your reaction. Would you roll your eyes? Scoff? Curse under your breath?

He didn't stick around to see. Exiting the game, he leaned back in his chair and stretched, glancing at the time. It was late, but he wasn't tired. Not yet.

Scrolling through his email, he saw one from you—a quick report about the latest product launch. Always efficient, always thorough. He smirked again, shaking his head. The stark contrast between the professional you at work and the fiery, competitive gamer on stream was something else entirely.

Maybe one day, he'd tell you he knew. But for now? He liked having this secret to himself. Watching you navigate both worlds, unaware that he was observing from both sides, was just too... fun.

Jeonghan closed his laptop, his thoughts lingering on you longer than he'd care to admit.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself, a small smile playing on his lips.

And maybe—just maybe—he'd queue up as W1NN3R again tomorrow.

a/n: posting chapter 2 asap. wait for it, tomorrow 9pm sharp ;)) #iamnowuploadingdailytogetthislazyassofmineworking AND I AM CURRENTLY MAKING A JEONGHAN FANFIC REQUESTED BY SOMEONE (i'll be posting it next week)

i have a taglist so if you want to be updated, reblog / comment on this post / teaser / part-time lover masterlist and you'll automatically be tagged on every chapter ! im a (wo)man of my word LOL

___okay looking back now, i made a few changes cause wtf. the plot isnt plotting. i suck at writing, sorry.

taglist: @asyre @choppedballoondetective @kpoppiesofinternet @syluslittlecrow (thankyou for reblogging !)

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧ WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE THEY?   ઉ   PAC

Hello, angels! I hope you're well. I'm bringing in another nosy type of reading. We'll look into who this person really is and if any advice comes up. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com via paypal! xo ♡

›    none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. ›    personal readings are closed as of march 2024 ›    navigation ♡ masterlist ♡ payhip (extended readings)

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is this person, deep down? two of cups ✧ the hermit ✧ judgement

This is someone who values meaningful, deep, soulful relationships. They do not crave the buzz of parties or endless chatting with strangers. They don't like small talk. Others may describe this person as an old soul, someone introspective and wise. Their friends turn to them for honest and sensible advice; they may be an older sibling, or someone who's seen as a role model in some type of way.

Unfortunately, this wisdom came at a cost. They have endured a thousand inner deaths in life. This person had to start over many, many times, but they always got back up. As strong as they are also loyal, they're mature and still believe in the magic of being surrounded by good people. Strong Virgo and Scorpio energy, given the cards you got.

It's likely they came from poverty or are enduring a financial loss at this moment in time. Since this person is hardworking and independent, I don't think you have anything to worry about - sadly or not, they're more than used to the weight of their shoulders.

Although they're not expressive with their emotions or thoughts, you can count on this person to be sincere. They seem heavily protected by something greater, something bigger. For most of you, this person is spiritual, but not religious. They're very private and you may have a hard time understanding them or figuring them out.

channeled words & songs: black and white, heavy as led, test of time, a drop of water, night of the soul, life path 7, seek solitude, "i'm always okay", read my mind by the killers, runaway horses, small towns.

quotes that remind me of this person

Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: The world or its people's hearts? — Darshana Suresh.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses. — Friedrich Nietzsche.

Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me. — Sigmund Freud.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is this person, deep down? five of swords ✧ the world ✧ the moon

Accomplished, but lonely. It's how this person feels as I shuffled. They have seen and known so much, but it came at the cost of their morals. This person holds many secrets - even from themselves. Nothing dark, but they do regret their ways at times. With how competitive and aggressive they can be, it's difficult for them to hold onto anything but their success.

They may be famous or well-known in some way. Renowned. A lawyer, a judge. Someone with a fair share of experience and authority in a certain field. But my God, how their words can hurt. Have you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword? Yeah, that's this person.

Even when they bask in the glory of being so accomplished, no one really knows this person. Not even themselves, as I said. They're scared of vulnerability, emotions and intimacy. They're scared of the things the Moon tries to show them: their deepest fears, the nightmares and past traumas they've tried to bury deep down.

Interestingly, despite the cards, I get heavy Aries energy. This person may be an Aries Moon, quite a complex placement to have. They're good at being logical and practical, good at the doing, at the speaking, but they don't have the time for people, for emotions... for friendship or family. Given their history, it's likely they shut themselves off from connections out of fear.

I don't think they're happy. They look happy, they look so beautiful, so otherworldly, but inside of them there's this urge for something else. Something more meaningful.

channeled words & songs: ambitchous, aries, sagittarius, "i want it i got it", "let my money talk", chest pains, life path 8 or 9, neon pink, overprotective, oh no! by marina, terrible love by the national, bank account.

quotes that remind me of this person

I live to succeed, not to please you or anyone else. — Marilyn Monroe.

My worst fear - that's anyone's worst fear - is to lose myself and become an empty person. And that happens a lot when you're very ambitious. — Marina Diamandis.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is this person, deep down? two of pentacles ✧ the sun ✧ four of pentacles

What an interesting contradiction, it seems. The person on your mind is generous, extroverted and.. quite the busy bee. Their outer persona remind me of J-Hope from BTS, very caring and extroverted - someone who's got an infectious laugh, but despite his bubbly appearance, he's actually very caring and protective.

Although they may seen foolish, this person is anything but. They're quite careful and at times, intense. However, I don't think many people get to see this more serious and protective side of them. They seem guarded for the right reasons, because they know their heart is quite precious and too much of a good thing to be given away so easily.

It's possible they come off as brain-scattered or high maintenance to you, but they're genuine and one of their main purposes in life - whether they know it or not - is to bring joy to others. They're so good at it. It's not a party without this person, with or without alcohol, they know how to lighten up the mood and are an amazing team player.

It feels cheeky too. I think they like the dad jokes, the lighthearted atmosphere, but they know when to be serious. If I am to be honest, this person is an amazing partner (in case you're asking about a romantic interest) and an even more amazing friend. Someone who'll cheer you up and stick by your side through thick and thin. A very dear friend.

channeled words & songs: heart-shaped, light up a joint, weed, recreational drugs, easy breezy, life of the party by shawn mendes, 9 to 5, bisexual, lgbt+, rainbow, friend-shaped, dogs, cats, energetic, rap.

quotes that remind me of this person

The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.— Bob Marley.

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it. — Robin Williams.

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always. — Unknown.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is this person, deep down? ace of cups ✧ ten of swords ✧ seven of cups ✧ the lovers

I feel like whoever you're asking about is in a brand new mode. They seem to be someone who was previously overburdened by their past. This person is in a major transformative phase, both physically and internally. They have endured so much, it's heartbreaking just thinking about it. I don't think they're very open about it though, at least, they weren't before.

Honestly, this person may have suffered from addiction, major losses or betrayal. They're getting back up after a period of darkness. Spirit's referencing their current phase more so than they actually are, because I believe they haven't yet fully come to really be who they are. They're shedding the person they had become, in order to be who they were meant to be.

They seek a new beginning, new friendships, good, better choices. It seems this path they're on has just begun, so they're a bit.. amazed at the options being offered. Still, this person wants to choose well for themselves and the people they love. They've regained a great love for the world. I feel filled with wonder, with enthusiasm for what's to come. Like anything and everything is possible.

Although they may seem immature, they've seen a lot. They've had to fight to survive through their worst and now, they're learning to let joy and love in. They've come to realize their power, the magic in who they are and learning to accept that this too shall pass. However, this person feels peaceful yet determined, broken yet healing, quite balanced in their aspects. A thinker and a feeler.

channeled words & songs: ego, healing, therapy, six of cups, innocence, yet to come by bts, mbti types, dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen, "a do-over", "maybe", shufflemancy, spiritual, 777, 333, psychedelics, hippie, hologram, offline, nature.

quotes that remind me of this person

I go to seek a Great Perhaps. That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps. — John Green.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. — Steve Jobs.

I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love, you won’t be able to see beyond it. — Warsan Shire.

୨୧ PILE FIVE

who is this person, deep down? two of wands ✧ six of wands ✧ page of cups

A courageous, successful individual. This person has a lot of wanderlust. They are in love with life, in love with themselves, in love with the world. They like to be on the move, to party and be around other people they also admire.

However, they have an impulsive, non-committal side to them that is expressed mainly in the way they approach relationships, especially romantic wise. They have a fear of settling, so they're always on the go, on the search for the next best thing in every way. They may move a lot or have a different crush everyday. Although it isn't inherently bad, I think this person may come off as hard to pin down.

In reality, they're enthusiastic and ready to take on the world. They like the spotlight, they have big dreams too. It gives me Leo energy, in the way they love to be praised, to be adored. Depending on who you're asking, this may be polyamorous or they just enjoy being single and free. Many people describe this person as free-spirited and bold.

At times, their words and behaviors get the best of them. They're not good at keeping secrets and may have quite a temper when angered. They mean well, but there's a diva-like side to this person that can be egocentric or immature, since they've got a bit of a one track mind when it comes to their dreams. They're also very beautiful and they know it. It's also quite the ego boost to be around them - they love to give out compliments and flirt.

channeled words & songs: bisexual, "himbo", bucketlist, pinterest, clean girl era, "i want everything", poetry, interlude: shadow by bts, parallel universe, edm, party girl, wild, erratic, center of attention, instagram, social media influencer, blogger, barbie movie, hungry heart by bruce springsteen, rumors by ross lynch (this song started playing after i finished the section above! very relevant).

quotes that remind me of this person

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days. — Sylvia Plath.

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles. — Audrey Hepburn.

amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

[snekkythegreat]

Hear me out

Frosty the Snowman is part of the Web if we assume the original song is the only canon Frosty the Snowman material.

Proofs:

He is an otherwise inanimate object that is only brought to life by an old silk hat. This suggests that Frosty himself is not alive, but is a sort of puppet controlled by the silk hat. The material of the hat is important too, as spiders make silk. Is it likely that the old silk hat is made of spider silk? No, seeing as the original song was released in 1950 and assuming the hat is at least twenty years old, and spider silk clothing was and still is extremely difficult to produce. But it is possible, as spider silk clothing has been around since the early 1700s, and the hat is stated to contain “magic” which could imply that it is more likely to be made of rare materials.

Assuming this hat is a Web aligned artifact, it is possible that it initially intended to possess one of the children, but instead decided on the snowman because of the greater influence a figure such as Frosty could exert, seeing as Frosty functioned as both a role model and a peer.

Frosty has a Pied Piper-like effect on the children he interacts with. He plays with them, letting them feel more comfortable around him, and has the children chase him around town. The stanza, “He led them down the streets of town / Right to the traffic cop / And he only paused a moment when / He heard him holler, “Stop!”” Implies that Frosty was leading these children across a street, one on which he did not have the right of way. He led these children into oncoming traffic, where, as the children are never mentioned again in the song, they most likely die or are severely injured.

The first two lines of the next stanza, “Oh, Frosty the Snowman / Had to hurry on his way” imply that Frosty had to flee town before he, or rather the silk hat that was using him as a host, was destroyed by the angry townspeople who just witnessed their children being killed brutally. Frosty’s parting words, “Don’t you cry, I’ll be back again someday!” both imply that people are crying, most likely due to seeing their children hit by oncoming traffic, and serve as an almost condescending warning about his return, most likely the following year.

The song itself is immensely popular. I was helping my dad move some stuff around campus yesterday and three out of the four times we turned on the car radio to the Christmas station it was playing Frosty the Snowman, a different cover/version each time. The pervasiveness of this song could certainly be connected the Web’s influence, and the song (as well as the movie) have given most people an overall positive view of Frosty, essentially removing from cultural memory the annual murders committed by the snowman, and brainwashing the public into believing the lie that Frosty the Snowman was a good being. The song states that he “was a jolly, happy soul” but not that he was good. One can take pleasure in horrendous crimes.

What interest would the Web have in killing several children each year from what is most likely a small or medium-sized town? Perhaps it is to feed on the fear the children’s parents would experience from seeing their children laughing and running straight into oncoming traffic as if in a trance. Perhaps it is the fear that they or their children will be next. Who knows.

I rest my case.

[songofthesibyl]

Coming out of hiding because I keep seeing people say how sexy it was when Lucien comforted Feyre after her “nightmare” and it’s just probably the most disturbing scene of the book for me. Just like I did not, in any way, shape, or form find Rhysand sexy when he was terrorizing and humiliating Feyre, Tamlin, and Lucien in the first book, and it’s probably why I’m turned off of sexualizing anything from these books in general. Particularly with the fandom the way it is, I can’t be lighthearted about anything—but also reading these scenes by myself before entering the fandom I still felt the same way. 

It’s also difficult not getting annoyed by the “toxic Tamlin narcissistic jealousy” thing, because I see little to no evidence of this in the books prior to this scene in ACOWAR. The first time it is mentioned is in that same section of the book, what Feyre is provoking. She mentions the “back off” conversation from the first book, saying Tamlin was afraid it would get in the way of all of his plans. Out of anger she is ignoring the context of that scene, sure—but there is still no way that makes sense. Lucien was “jealous” of Isaac too—because neither he nor Tamlin wanted Andras’ death to be in vain, when this was probably their last chance. It is too unbelievable that it would be out of some petty immature jealousy. Fear, yes. But not out of lust and desire.

But to that point—apart from Lucien, who simply hasn’t been given a chance to be toxic as a partner yet—which male lead hasn’t been jealous? Rhysand admits to jealousy UTM and when he terrorized her at the manor; he was jealous of Tarquin when she was purposely instructed to seduce him. Cassian roared across the Sidra about his jealousy. Azriel was jealous and resentful of everyone in his bonus chapter. The former yelled and/or were violent. Azriel intimated willingness to violence (however serious he was about it). For Rhysand and Cassian the excuse would be “because mates,” but since Tamlin is not given the excuse of magic, I’m not giving it to them either. Any of the other instances I mentioned would be considered irredeemable red flags for Tamlin, yet for Cassian and Rhysand they are harmless, benign miscommunication trope scenarios.

If people weren’t weird about Tamlin all of this would be chalked up to soapy melodrama, but if people are going to treat him a certain way as a character, then the rest get treated that way too. ACOMAF was supposed to model a healthy partnership in Feysand, not a Vampire Diaries/Buffy-esque dark romance. 

So then, who was Tamlin jealous of that we could see? Bron and Hart? It’s difficult to count Rhysand considering what Tamlin saw him do to her. So, who? This is all based on a half-remembered conversation? 

The bottom line is Tamlin was mentally unwell, and so the thing was to provoke any emotion, because anything could set him off. Confuse him, distract him, unnerve him, out of a desire for revenge. And to use his only friend, who had recently been sexually assaulted by Ianthe, to do it. And so yes, when Tamlin saw the woman he thought was touch-averse due to what she led him to believe happened to her constantly getting touched by Lucien, or seemed to be touched by him, he was confused.

I don’t find any of this sexy.

[seokminfilm]

but he's an angel | yoon jeonghan

🪄 pairing, yoon jeonghan x reader

🪄 warning, model!jeonghan, jeonghan can speak french, romance & fluff, meet cute, reader is in love with this guy (they literally just met), feminine jeonghan, lyr uses feminine features & adjectives when describing jeonghan, teasing (mainly from jeonghan), jeonghan is kind of a nuisance at times (reader is too blinded by love at first sight to notice or care), cute + wholesome

🪄 summary, it's another boring day at the coffee shop you work at─that is, until a pretty korean who can speak shockingly good french asks you for a coffee you don't know how to make.

🪄 author's note, i wrote this because i'm going through jeonghan withdraws again :( it's a bit rushed and not my best work, but i did it for jeonghan and that's all that matters to me tbh!! took a break from writing for dokyeom but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled kyeom tomorrow!! hope you all had a merry christmas lyrnation :>

🪄 now playing, banana shake, hus

The bell jingles cutely as another customer leaves satisfied with a cup of hot, steaming coffee, and you slump against the countertop, social battery already drained from dealing with elderly ladies who couldn't read the menu signs well.

It was yet another boring day at Crème des Anges, the French coffee shop you happened to work at. Your favorite coworker, Joshua, was out sick with the cold, so you had to bear it all on your own, working with one of the older, grumpier ladies of the task force. It left you drained of all life and happiness, having to try not to wince at the lady's bored voice when she answered customers.

The jazz music was sweet when you entered in earlier this morning, but you swore the tracks were on a looping playlist, never stopping. You couldn't tell where one song stopped and other started, and to be honest, you were over trying to figure it out.

After giving a buisness woman extra creamer, you disappeared to the back to try to get a break from the boring, stuffy atmosphere.

Even though the back of the coffee shop was warm and inviting in color and decoration, you felt like you wanted to cry and drool all over the pretty couches and soft, plush chairs. The very cliche slogan of Crème des Anges stood in bold calligraphy, and you sighed, just grimacing at reading it

The cream of the angels is served here!

If the cream of the angels were served in a shockingly opressive coffee house with the same ten jazz tracks and sickening smell of caramel lingering in every nook and cranny of it, you'd pass.

A jingle of the bell begrudgingly led you out to the main counter again, and you dusted yourself off, pasting on your best smile as you recited one of the five default greetings you had to every new customer.

"Welcome to Crème des Anges, where everything is made from the cream of─"

Words fall short of the sight you see in front of you when you blink, but you could afford to try to describe it, right?

The customer has this soft, lazy glow to them─as if it was a haze of some kind. They smelled of vanilla and warmth, and the silky top they were wearing only added to the softness of their disposition. Their hair, as dark and smooth as bitter chocolate, and skin as glassy and clear as a brand-new mirror.

Their eyes were unlike anything you had ever seen─deep and brown with pointed lashes, soft and curling. Their lips were covered in a swipe of glittery, pink lip gloss, shimmering under the coffee shop's lights as they smiled at you sweetly, lips parting to reveal a perfect straight set of pearl-white teeth.

"─Cream of the angels." Their voice is unlike anything you had ever heard─it was a mixture of masculine and feminine, plesant and warm to listen to with a lilt of their special way of talking. They were soft, illuminating your world and the whole coffee shop with their words.

"Yeah, um─Cream...cream of the angels," Your face is burning red, and you clear your thraot, obviously still fazed by the arrival of this magical person. You couldn't even tell whether they were a male or a female, but you found that even more alluring.

The laugh that slipped from their lips was nothing short of melodic, sweet and tangy like tiramisu cake as they stared at you with a playfulness in your eyes. "Even though you were stuttering over your words for a bit there, you got it," The person smiled at you again, and you blushed, laughing autonomously as you tried to get a hold of yourself again.

"Okay, so, uh─um, what would you like today? I could give you recommendations if you want?" You try to resume your assigned lines as normal, but with the pretty stranger's eyes on you, your brain was slower than usual.

They laughed at your slow expression, obviously catching on to what you were thinking. "I'll make it easy on you. You're so flushed; you like like a very cute tomato."

And now the stranger was calling you cute? (A tomato too, but that was besides the point.) You could just die from your now amazing luck.

"What about..." The person trails off, leaving you awaiting for their cream-like voice. "What about an Café au lait?"

Café au lait? You had never heard of a drink like that before. Even though you were in Paris, all they really served is just normal American coffees. You weren't even sure the aformentioned grumpy lady even knew how to make an Café au lait, and you weren't going to ask her either.

Plus, you had to prove your worthiness to this pretty stranger somehow.

"Of course," You comply, putting his order into the system as you slip into third person for a second. Your situation has finally hit you in the face: a pretty stranger has appraoched your coffee shop, and now you're giving it a drink that's not even on the menu?

How down bad are you for this dream of a person?

"What will the name be on that order?" You add just seconds later, and the person adjusts the pricey-looking watch on their wrist as the anwer with a smirk. "Yoon Jeonghan."

No wonder you felt like you were the virgin Mary being visited by the angel Gabriel. The person─the man─you were talking to now was none other than Yoon Jeonghan, the male model popular for his continuous breaking of gender norms and star-studded photoshoots. You weren't one for fashion or makeup, but even you had heard of him, and that was his forte. He was perfect in almost everyway, and here you were, taking his order.

"Yoon Jeonghan, then." You say again, and Jeonghan laughs deviously, eyelashes brushing against his light cheeks as he stares up at you through them.

"It sounds like you just like the sound of my name in your mouth." Jeonghan's voice is cheeky, daring, and you clear your throat, glancing down at your shaking hands as you give an awkward laugh.

Blushing (and unable to deny him), you finish ringing up his order, taking his credit card and finishing the payment as he smiles, thakning you. "I'm really excited to try that Café au lait you're gonna make me. I believe in you."

Oh, no, you think to yourself, giving Jeonghan an awkward smile as you reply with an even awkwarder tone, "You're gonna love it."

Now, there was three things wrong with this situation. One, is the fact that you are now scrambling all over a customer, completely ignoring the rules set up by your boss.

Two, there is no such thing on Café au lait on your menu─you're sure Jeonghan knows it too, and is just waiting to see how you're going to make it happen.

And Three, well, you'd have to learn how to make a Café au lait and how to make a Café au lait fast, because that angel of a boy who's just entered your hellscape of a coffee shop has you in his delicate grip.

A delicate grip you're thrilled to be in, all because he's an angel.

[sgiandubh]

The lonesome fitness girl - really?

This is a story about a nameless female fitness influencer somewhere in the world. She gives the impression of a lonely „ fighter“ in her business and in her life overall.

That is nonsense - she sells her "destiny" very skilfully. I am convinced she is not a lonely woman behind her influencer profile. But that is exactly the impression she wants to convey and she does so publicly with some success.  This is her unique selling point right now and whoever manages or advises her has recognised this very well. In other words, a narrative is created very carefully and very purposefully.  Sounds somehow familiar? 

There are thousands and thousands of fitness influencers, so it is important for everyone in this business to find the niche that generates followers, clicks and in the end it means an income. Simply performing an exercise is not enough. Every click or like on a post or a story generates a few dollars, euros or pounds in revenue.

And an increase in the number of followers by approx. 80,000-100,000 due to a connection to a famous person will raise the income as well. For the record: people like her are so called macro influencer and are a brand. That is a fact - you can find a lot more information about this in various publications by experts in business administration and marketing.

You have to attract attention, something that our nameless fitness girl has done in different ways over the years. Firstly with her partner at the time, later she created the image of a single fitness mum. And at the moment she is promoting the image of a woman who is finding her way back after an illness with a great deal of commitment and determination. 

But fitness girl was legitimately afraid of loosing her income if she was not able to work. And her body is her work. This led probably her and her team to the conclusion that she needed "visible support" at this point in order to continue operating her business model during the recovery.  And her job is being fitness model. No more and no less.

And right on time, a famous actor with a closeness to fitness programmes or probably rather his team came in. Now she seems to get into contact with his presumably more influential and well-connected fitness circles. And, purely by chance, she is building up an online fitness course. All on her own and while she looks after the rest of her business(es?) - and cares for her family. Hopefully she gets enough sleep? Probably not, which is hardly surprising considering her workload with all her duties and work obligations towards her partners. Fortunately, just like in fairy tales, there is a wonderful magic wand for this - Instagram filter.

The story really is getting better and better...

Add some well-planned (sometimes "almost") encounters at various competition venues between the two main characters.

The fitness girl, her business and her story truly seem impressive? Only if you believe in fairy tales.

Too many coincidences at once, it looks like a well established business deal, too scripted? No - just keep it simple to feed the narrative of the "lonely fitness girl"! Or is she "The girl who never sleeps"? Nobody knows for sure.

But she is most likely not the woman she pretends to be...

Dear Lonesome Fitness Girl Anon,

In an ocean of infantile, mendacious, shite-stirring Anons, your submission is absolutely STELLAR!

Whoever you are, I can tell by the ease of your logical deductions that you mean serious business and you are not easy to fool, either. Just what we happen to love, in this particular corner of this fandom.

I am totally thrilled to share with all of us this rare gem, Anon. Especially today.

You are more than welcome to hit this page anytime. It takes a pro to know a pro. Consider me a friend, Anon: you have instantly become one to me, and I bet not only to me.

Everyone, a round of applause for our unexpected guest!

[masked-tornado]

All about Allen Alagona

Overview:

Basics

Allen's backstory

Allen's personality

Allen's relationships

Allen's relationship with Deuce

Allen & blot

Allen's previous life

Allen's magic

Fun facts

OFFICIAL ALLEN X DEUCE POSTS:

1 // 2 // 3

1. Basics

Allen is a Ramshackle freshman who comes from another world (¾ Italian, ¼ Japanese) and "has no magic".

He's an aspiring illustrator and musician who doesn't seem to have success no matter how hard he tries. Whenever he attempted to gain attention on the internet before, all he ever received was ignorance and hate. Nowadays, he's too scared to try again.

2. Allen's backstory

Allen is an intersex boy and was born with lower testosterone levels as well as a mostly "female" outward anatomy.

Having suffered from a genetic anxiety disorder since his childhood, Allen was never really able to enjoy things. Once he got into school, he was mostly used for his good grades and ignored otherwise.

However, things got much worse when puberty started: Allen's body was feminine and muscular at the same time, and he towered over his classmates. His resting bitch face didn't help with people finding him intimidating and scary... and soon, he was not only ignored, but actively avoided and made fun of. He got pushed around, insulted, and told that "a freak like him" could never be loved. Nobody invited him to hang out, people pretended to have crushes on him in order to fool him, and all the "friends" he ever had badmouthed him behind his back.

Allen couldn't tell anyone about how hurt he was — boys weren't supposed to cry and act all whiny, and he would prove that he was indeed a boy by being all tough.

Trying to escape from the bullying at school, Allen put all of his feelings into art instead — a thing he was told he was "gifted" at — and started sharing it on social media. However, as he watched other artists blow up and build entire fanbases, absolutely nothing happened to him; he was either ignored or insulted for his art, seemingly never being good enough to earn compliments. Combined with the fact that Allen compared himself with other artists a lot, he slowly started losing confidence in the one thing he enjoyed and thought he was skilled at.

That wasn't the only thing Allen "wasn't good enough" for. As he got older, the topics at school progressively got harder, and the model student started struggling with them a little. His grades dropped from As to As and Bs, and that was somehow already enough for his teachers to blame him. "What's wrong?", "I expected better from you" and "stop slacking" were just some of the things Allen had to hear from them. He began studying even more in an attempt to satisfy them and prove his worth to himself, but nothing seemed to work out, and instead, it all led to Allen having a burnout.

At this point, Allen started believing that he was possessed. How could one single person have so much bad luck and be hated this much solely for trying to live his life...?

...and why was he even trying when he was never good enough for anyone anyway?

It was then that Allen decided to give up on everything. His grades never satisfied his teachers no matter how well he did, so why should he work for them at all? His gentle personality was never appreciated, so why should he be kind? Fights hurt him, so why shouldn't he fight back?

Allen slowly became a delinquent. He started skipping class almost every day, finally dared to cuss, and got into lots of verbal fights with the people who formerly bullied him. Those who already feared Allen before were now absolutely terrified of him, and soon, rumors about an actual possession started spreading.

The headmaster couldn't stand watching the process of one of her most valuable honor students turning into a delinquent and eventually kicked Allen out of school for his shenanigans.

Allen knew he wouldn't attend a school ever again due to what it had done to his health, but at the same time, he was in desperate need of that graduation if he ever wanted to have a proper job. He tried to blackmail the headmaster into giving him his graduation by threatening to expose the school for how they covered bullying and even allowed teachers to be bullies, but ultimately, Allen got nothing out of it.

He had nothing but his parents now. He had no friends, no confidence, no future. He was likely possessed, doomed by the universe.

Allen lost the sparkle in his eye; he wanted nothing more than to disappear. But the thought of his parents' grief forced him to stay alive. Every day was torture and reminded Allen of how much of a failure he was, and he progressively grew angrier...

...until he started imagining himself in music videos every time he listened to songs.

That was when Allen had an idea. He couldn't be violent, so why not channel all of his hatred and wrath into lyrics and make his own music? This time, he wouldn't post anything online in a long time, instead taking things slow.

Things slowly got a little better — Allen was able to start a hormone therapy, dyed his hair, changed his overall appearance, disassociated himself from his old self, and learned to control his anger through writing and other methods he figured out for himself. However, the emptiness, anxiety and hopelessness remained, and Allen was stuck with depression.

Just the day when Allen wanted to finally buy a software to produce music with, he woke up in a coffin in a strange world...

3. Allen's personality

Allen is widely known to be friendly, lowkey, mature, calm and helpful. People admire him for his good looks and determination, and some even consider him to be perfect due to the fact that he is additionally "good at everything". He also avoids fights and more heated discussions and instead serves as a mediator most of the time, earning him a fair amount of respect at NRC.

Allen has an easy time getting along with people and, while he rarely engages in deep conversations, generally enjoys talking and spending time with others, even if he's not close to them.

The truth: this is a mask.

Allen is an extremely flawed person but skilled at hiding it. He doesn't do anything he's bad at in public, only voices reasonable opinions, uses white lies in order to not accidentally hurt people, and hides all of his mental struggles as much as possible.

Not only does the real Allen envy everyone who is in some way more successful or "better" at something than him, but he has also developed a superiority complex to cope with his insecurities. He even feels this way towards some of his friends, yet doesn't dare to speak up on it out of fear of ending up all alone again.

The real Allen writes aggressive songs, has violent thoughts, and hates himself with a burning passion. His trauma and insecurities always get the better of him, and Allen still believes that he's ugly, worthless and not deserving of love despite being one of the most popular people at NRC.

The real Allen also doesn't care about the problems of people and gets impatient extremely quickly (Deuce is an exception — Allen cares about him a lot and is patient with him — as well as other people who have genuinely earned Allen's trust). His primary motivation for helping with bigger issues around the school is to draw attention to himself and finally receive praise.

Allen's biggest fear is to be lonely, abandoned and ignored, which is why he does his best to hide all of his flaws and true opinions on people — he doesn't want to risk being disliked now that he's finally appreciated somewhere.

The only person who knows the real Allen (and who he is 100% honest to) is Deuce, who doesn't judge him at all and instead understands him.

4. Allen's relationships

5. Allen's relationship with Deuce

Ever since day one, they've been best friends who always know what the other is thinking/feeling and do almost everything together.

Having the same experiences in a mirrored way, Allen and Deuce are able to understand each other better than anyone else could and naturally help each other because of it. Allen is able to assist Deuce with studying while making sure that he doesn't overwork himself and provides him with healthy outlets for his delinquent tendencies, which helps Deuce mature and grow calmer. Instead of trying to change Deuce, Allen helps him see the good in his flaws and use them to Deuce's advantage while fully supporting his goals and making sure that Deuce doesn't lose himself. Deuce, on the other hand, simply loves and admires Allen the way he is, which helps Allen slowly accept himself more. Being around someone who's so similar to himself and genuinely supports, understands and adores him also manages to fill the void in Allen's heart at least a bit.

Due to Allen's tough vibes, determined personality, intelligence and pretty appearance, Deuce fell for him extremely quickly (it was basically love at first sight for him). Allen fell for Deuce during book 4 when he realized just how much he missed the boy. After hesitating with a confession for a long time due to how it could possibly affect their friendship, Allen and Deuce eventually start dating some time after book 7.

Before I go on an eternal ramble about these two, here are some posts from my Deuce x Allen blog explaining their relationship further:

How they help each other

Why I ship them

Relationship timeline

Facts about them

6. Allen & blot

Allen feels his body get weaker and is somewhat out of touch with it in Twisted Wonderland. At first, he isn't aware of what the reason might be, but things resolve themselves... in the worst way possible.

During every breakdown occuring after these symptoms, a part of Allen's body changes. At first, he merely cries black tears, but then his hair turns another color, followed by another body part every time... until Allen is fully convinced that his demon is slowly taking over.

These occurrences are, in fact, mini overblots building up to Allen's first proper overblot, in which he assumes the form of a demon prince with fire-based magic and massive claws.

Due to his overall physical and mental weakness as well as the fact that he's not from Twisted Wonderland, blot affects Allen extremely easily and in a different way than with mages.

But why can he accumulate blot if he's not a mage himself? Well...

7. Allen's previous life

Unbeknownst to everyone, Allen is the reincarnation of Asterope, an infamous mage from Twisted Wonderland.

Asterope was an exceptional mage said to have been blessed who had weather-based powers but couldn't fully control them due to his impulsive personality. As a result, he accidentally slaughtered a village through a tornado in a fit of rage caused by being excluded and bullied, and became a wanted criminal as a result. He ran away, assumed the identity of "Alan" and joined the Silver Owls, only to be caught when he found out about his sole friend's death and accidentally caused another tornado. Asterope then got executed, and to this day, he's known as nothing but a villain.

Nobody is aware that Allen is Asterope's reincarnation and supposed to fix his legacy until Allen dies after being stabbed during a friend's overblot. A storm is raging outside the school during the entirety of Allen being in a critical state and eventually dying. While his body is already dead, Allen's mind intensely relives the moments from both his current life and the one he had as Asterope. Ironically, his strong blot accumulation and Asterope's desire for wanting his legacy to be fixed through his "successor" eventually bring Allen back to life, leaving him with mere permanent tattoos... and the ability to use magic.

Shortly before Allen awakens, Asterope speaks through him, talking about his legacy. Later on, Allen and his friends do their best to figure out what exactly happened.

8. Allen's magic

Allen has fairly little control over his everyday magic due to both his mood swings and the fact that he's entirely new to this kind of thing. However, he is eager to learn and improve so he can hopefully reach an average skill level.

On the other hand, Allen's Unique Magic is incredibly powerful and can only be countered by the strongest of mages when they're concentrated. "The Calm Before the Storm" traps a being in a tornado that drains them of all their physical and mental energy, often causing the person in question to pass out. It can be used on living creatures from all worlds.

Fun fact: Allen discovers his Unique Magic before he can use normal magic at all.

9. Fun facts

Allen is three days older than Ace.

Allen is good with animals and children.

Allen's natural hair color is black.

Allen is considered to be one of the prettiest people at NRC, but isn't aware of this.

Allen collects plushies and Deuce gifts them to him regularly.

Allen loves Shiba Inus.

Allen likes motorcycles and blastcycles.

Allen is an only child.

Allen loves his parents but is distant from the rest of his family.

Allen has photographic memory.

Allen eats instant noodles a lot.

Allen can't cook, but is willing to learn how to cook egg dishes for Deuce.

Allen doesn't have a lot of stamina.

Allen has problems falling asleep.

Allen is generally bad at sports, but can run fastly and dance very well. He does, however, suck at ballroom dance.

Allen is often called a twink, and he's very curvy for a skinny guy.

Allen has long eyelashes.

Allen received chest surgery during book 5 and now has scars.

Allen prefers coffee over tea.

Allen dislikes pastries.

[shirefantasies]

Hello friend ! 🤍 I see your requests are temporarily open and I hope that is still the case. Your writing is so cute and wholesome and I rly enjoy it 😊

I am not sure if you have me on your taglist- If not, could you tag my tolkien blog @wordbunch so that I don't miss anything!

Could I ask either for hobbits with elf crush (yes we have human crush but what about elf crush!), or how the members of the fellowship (the ones that were there for the final battle against sauron, when aragorn made the famous speech lol) - how you support/motivate/comfort each other before that event

Sorry for the suuuuper big message 😇

Nah you're totally fine! I've gotten waaaaaay longer and more complicated asks 😂 I have @wordbunch on my taglist rn so I'll keep tagging you in all my posts 🥰 it's still crazy to me that the blog that I loved and was inspired to make this blog from IS ON MY TAGLIST WHATTTTTTTT insane. It's like I'm a musician and like Freddy Mercury or the Beatles or if you’re me Danny Elfman is following me lmaos nuts man. All that to say I so appreciate your support and here are some hobbits to start 😉

The Hobbits Falling For Elf!Reader

Frodo

His Elvish skills serve him greatly here; as if by instinct he greets you in your own language, bringing a smile to your lips. “Where did you learn the words of the Sindar?” “From my uncle, actually. Ever since his visit here years ago he has never forgotten your history and your hospitality.” Realization widens your eyes and parts your lips. “Your uncle is Bilbo Baggins?” “Yes,” the hobbit smiles and gives a little bow, “I am Frodo Baggins, Bilbo’s nephew.” Your hand clutches your heart and you look upon Frodo’s rising form with new exhilaration. “I was there when Bilbo and his company came. Quite a…well, a boisterous gathering, but your uncle was dear, curious and polite. A model guest indeed. It is an honor to know another member of your lovely family.” At that, you take your turn to give Frodo a small bow, one hand sweeping outward. The intensity of his eyes, the great joy and wonder, brings heat to your cheeks that matches the red tinting his.

Sam

Sam’s awe for the elves comes to his aid here for it gives him a bit of courage to talk to you, but also disguises his attraction to you as that wonder-filled curiosity. He tells himself-nay, all but commands himself- that curiosity it shall remain. You are very pretty after all, but what would an elf want with a- “Are you, then, the gardener I heard about from Frodo?” Half jumping out of his skin, Sam focuses again on your eyes, his own quite wide. “Oh, yes indeed! Indeed I am. What did he tell you about me?” “Only that you tend every growing thing with the utmost care, and if anyone knew a thing about the Shire-plants, it was you, Master Gamgee.” “Begging your pardon, but you can just call me Sam if it suits you.” “It does indeed, Sam. If I ask it of you, would you answer a few questions? Look at a few sketches? My task, no, my passion, is my book of botany, and I believe you would be a great help.” “You could use my help? Of course! Lead the way.” Standing up as straight and tall as he could, Sam remained at attention, grinning up at you. His smiled warmed you as you led him between the great trees of Lothlórien to your study.

Merry

“You’re an elf!” “Yes,” you giggle, “And you are a hobbit, are you not?” “That’s right, a hobbit of the Shire! …Are we really going to Rivendell?” Merry’s smile is infectious. “Yes,” you answer with a nod, “Your friend is safe there and so shall you be.” “Is it true what they say about it?” “That would depend.” “That it’s the most beautiful place in Middle Earth, positively glowing with magic?” The flutter of joy in your heart that always comes with thoughts of home returns in full warmth. “It is to me,” you answered, glancing back down into the hobbit’s dark blue eyes. “I think it will stay second to Hobbiton for me,” Merry confessed with a wide smile, “Although if you’re there, Rivendell may win out yet.”

Pippin

“You’re all very good at that, you know.” Turning on your heels, you see a hobbit standing leaned against a pillar on the far side of your practice area. Crossing it to retrieve your arrow from its embedment in your target, you watch your visitor with curious amusement. A smirk spreads across your face. “Archery? Far from it. My brother alone proves that.” “Not a good shot?” The hobbit replies. “Accidentally caught one of Lord Elrond’s banners once. Tore the whole thing down.” “I’d likely do the same,” the hobbit admits with a sheepish smile. “You know not until you take up a bow yourself. Come…” “Pippin.” “Pippin,” you smile, reaching a hand down to urge him forward by the shoulder and seeing Pippin smile at the contact, “Stand here.” Remaining there as he did, Pippin bobbed and bounced on his heels as you retrieved a child’s training bow. As soon as he accepted it you stood behind the hobbit, wrapping your arms over his and sliding his hands into the proper grip. “How is that?” “Excellent,” he said. “Good. Now, my dear Pippin, let us take a shot!”

Bilbo

Nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him upon entry to the Valley of Imladris. Not the cascading waterfalls or white columns, not the great libraries, no. You. Far taller than him and much fairer, you stun the hobbit like nothing else. How can he address you? What could he possibly find to discuss with someone in the council of Lord Elrond himself? …Literature. He can do that! As it turns out, his stroke of luck is greater than he might have anticipated: you are a writer, painstakingly translating old Quenya texts. “I-I’ve studied a fair bit of the Sindar’s language, but this? This is quite unfamiliar to me.” Scooting your chair closer, you smile down at the hobbit. “Here, allow me to show you.” Bilbo leans closer- he must, for you invite him to sit at your side and peer over your shoulder, eyes scanning between unfamiliar characters and your lovely profile.

Rosie

Her gut reaction becomes her voiced reaction: “I never thought I would see an elf in real life.” Sheepishness overtakes her as soon as the words leave her mouth, though. Chuckling gently, you admit this was quite a journey for you, too. Another initial reaction and joke from Rosie is that you’ve never tasted real ale, then- hobbits’ ale. You’re quickly being poured a glass. Over drinks she asks you questions, like what plants grow in your region and what your favorites are. What you eat, what you drink. All the questions you might expect from a hobbit, but with such a glowing, endearing smile the whole time.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @kpopgirlbtssvt @rivendell-poet | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[jinnie-ret]

ep 7: the final weddings

ratings: fluffy, teeny angst

warnings: slight suggestive comment (from Minho lol)

running time: 2.5k words

summary: two traditions and two similar lifestyles come together. will they both be a match made in heaven?

SKZ MAFS MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍

They were matched because they've got similar lifestyles, Octavia is a headstrong driven woman who will make sure Seungmin knows she's here to stay for real. With his past relationship it could have caused trust issues, so despite his sometimes blunt demeanour we can tell this is someonewho truly thinks deeply and may need a taste of his own medicine to keep him out of his own head.

A gorgeous orchard with midnight blue flowers wound round trellises cocooned the seats lined up and ready for the wedding to take place. This scenic courtyard had bellows of periwinkle fabric hung above, along with some starry fairy lights creating a magical scene. Both Seungmin and Octavia's family were already sat and waiting for the marriage to be sealed. It may not have been the sunniest of days, the cloudy weather making the anticipated mood seem quite overcast. Fortunately, the almost bubble of a venue and the atmosphere that was about to erupt would make for a much brighter time.

Seungmin was first to walk down the aisle, arms hanging by his sides nervously, something that was out of character for him. His friends and family had noticed right away. In fact, by the time he had reached the top, all he could muster up was a small and short bow to both families. It wasn't like him, he had been in plenty of meetings before, ones with high pressure, but now here he was fiddling with the hem of his black tuxedo. Even with the calming aura of his surroundings, his mind was suddenly working at 100 miles per hour. Had he noticed the way that Octavia's family were whispering amongst themselves, it would have made him felt even more anxious.

Octavia happily strutted down the aisle, a bundle of nerves and excitement decorated by a sleek, silky wedding dress, that showed off her figure she was so used to modelling in her line of work. The warmth in the blush on her cheeks and the nude pink shade of her lips contrasted wonderfully with her chocolatey hair cascading down in elegant curls. With her father by her side to give her away, she felt that something was up in the air as soon as he left her side and Seungmin turned to face her.

“Hi, how are you?” Octavia smiled brightly and opened her arms to Seungmin in a short hug.

“Yeah, good,” Seungmin barely wrapped his arms around her before pulling away and looking down.

Octavia exchanged nervous glances with her family, but they tried as best as they could to reassure her with their own looks.

M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍

These are two animal lovers who, oddly enough, even though their reasons for joining the experiment may sound different at first, there is actually a lot of crossover between the two. Minho clearly wants that feeling of being in a relationship again, and Ishani is looking for someone she can trust. With Minho's open heart, he will be more than welcoming to Ishani, and together they can help each other grow as people.

A round circular path, with the grand presentation of a water fountain in the middle of it, led to an old traditional hall. The sandy tones of the building encompassed an interior with beautiful, chromatic tones, ornate in their history and attractive in stature. A vibrant red carpet created the aisle, surrounded by dark oak, wooden pews, currently being filled by guests. As they entered, you could already see how two cultures were being brought together, people of all ages from South Korea and India now sat waiting.

Minho of course walked down the aisle first, admiring the candles lit that created a glowing atmosphere and warmth he was excited to walk into. As he walked across the soft carpet, he wore a nervous grin on his face, bowing politely to both sides of the guests. His friends were especially excited to see him, as they initially couldn’t believe that this was real. Both of his parents were also there, his mum cutely holding onto a keyring of three cats, Soonie, Doongie and Dori. The whole setting seemed to match Minho’s elegant suit, the black suit he adorned having small details such as golden cat cufflinks, along with thin maroon lapels and a handkerchief that was the same colour, neatly tucked into his pocket. This was it, the day he got married.

The silence in the room only lasted moments long, before Ishani walked around the corner, hand intertwined with her father’s. She was a gorgeous sight to behold, ruby red lehenga with a gota patti embroidery style in gold, creating a beautiful blend of hues on her skirt. Of course, it was paired with a matching top and scarf. Another aspect of Ishani’s wedding ensemble was the henna that decorated her hands and feet. Despite the nature of the show, Ishani got the approval from her parents she needed to begin this adventure in her life, yet they had requested that she still pay homage to her roots and present traditionally. She had happily agreed, meaning that in a celebration of wishing her good health and prosperity, or, Mendhi, that was when the ink became apparent. Her mother had even cheekily made it darker, showing that she wished for a strong sense of love between her daughter and husband to be - in reality this strong bond would already be apparent. The stronger the henna, the more in love the couple is said to be.

Minho’s eyes twinkled with amazement and fondness as soon as his eyes connected with Ishani’s and she felt her heart nearly beating out of her chest as her father walked her further up the aisle, hoping that she’d get his approval to be with the handsome man in front of her.

“Hi, I’m Ishani,” she smiled radiantly at Minho, seeming like she wanted to do something more, give him a hug, at least.

“I’m Minho, it’s lovely to meet you. You look truly amazing,” Minho charmingly spoke, truth in every ounce of his words. He too wanted to hold his wife-to-be in his arms, yet he felt a bit awkward in doing so when her father was still standing right there.

“Ishani, take my hand,” her father spoke, before looking at Minho to do the same. He tutted as first when his left hand was presented, but quickly connected the younger two’s right hands together, visibly indicating his approval for the marriage in an act of Kanyadaan. After that, he smiled, patted Minho on the shoulder and took his seat next to his own wife.

“He approves,” Ishani reassured Minho with joy evident, quickly taking away his worry and mainly confusion.

In response, Minho sighed in relief, “thank goodness for that,” and then gently brought Ishani into a hug. Once they both pulled away, bashfully, mind you, the priest approached and officially began the ceremony.

S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍

“Octavia, would you like to go first?” the priest asked, the girl nodding in response.

“I feel like I’ve always been looking for the right person, so I’m hoping you’re the one who will stop my endless searching,” Octavia began with a slight out of character apprehension, but soon found her feet. “I hope that we can constantly build each other up and always have each others’ backs, because I know I’ve already got yours. I promise to make you laugh, hold you when you cry and eventually tell you how much I care for you. In sickness and in health, as the saying goes.”

Next, it was Seungmin’s turn.

“Loyalty and faithfulness are both incredibly important to me, so know that I will always stick by you whilst having a laugh too. I may come across as a closed book at first, but once you get to know me I hope you will appreciate and learn all the different sides to me, just as I promise I will do for you as well. This is a crazy thing we’re both doing, but I’m excited for the adventure we are about to begin,” he sighed in relief and gave a small smile once again to Octavia. She seemed more relaxed now after hearing his vows and getting an insight into his personality.

M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍

“To my wife, I don’t know you yet but I want you to know that I am willing to put my best efforts into this marriage so that it works. I will be there by your side to cherish all the little moments we have, and to celebrate the milestones we make in our relationship to come. I am very passionate about my job and what I do in life, so I promise to uplift you, encourage you and simply be there for you in whatever you do,” Minho calm and collectively recited his vows.

“My husband, this is certainly not a conventional way to find the love of my life but I hope that is what you will be to me. Trust is incredibly important to me, so I hope that this is something we can have between the two of us as we get to know each other more and more. I promise to stay by your side, and grow as a person with you as we explore this marriage together. Also, you better be a cat person,” Ishani threw in jokingly at the end.

“I love cats!” Minho exclaimed with relief, eyes widening in a newfound fondness already.

“Really?!”

“Yes, I have three!”

Their small, excited murmurs were interrupted by the priest reminding them to place their rings on each other's hands.

S.O 🤍 M.I 🤍 S.O 🤍 M.I 🤍 S.O 🤍 M.I 🤍

When Seungmin and Octavia shared their first kiss, it was short but sweet. There was a tentative approach yet soon they would be able to relax in their shared presence. Minho and Ishani’s kiss lasted a bit longer, and it was the clearing of the throat from her father, soon drowned out by the cheering of Minho’s friends, that jolted them out of their bubble.

S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍

It was now time for their first dinner together, where everyone was gathered around tables and getting to know each other. The newly married couple sat at the head of the stunning buffet, fortunately getting along quite well, exchanging stories of their travels.

“So, what do you do for work?” Seungmin enquired curiously.

“I’m a model. I do travel quite a lot for work so I hope that won’t be an issue for us?” Octavia crossed her fingers underneath the table, Seungmin spotting this.

“Haha, you don’t have to do that, it won’t be an issue for me at all. Actually, my work has me travelling a lot too,” he admitted with a nod.

“Really? What do you do?” Octavia shifted her body to face him more, taking a sip from her champagne flute.

“Ah, it’s a talent company for actors, singers, models too, actually,” Seungmin tried to discreetly describe what he does without naming the company.

“Wow, that's amazing!” Octavia nodded feeling impressed, something at the back of her mind feeling satisfied that they would be financially stable as a couple in the outside world.

“It is, I do love my job. Where’s your favourite place you’ve travelled to?” Seungmin asked.

“The one that comes to my mind first… I’d probably say Amsterdam. It’s just something about the atmosphere of that city that feels like you’re in another world; the culture, the art, the canals…” Octavia trailed off fondly.

“Sounds like a five star review. I’ve never been,” Seungmin acknowledged.

“No way! It’s amazing, really. I hope our honeymoon is there,” Octavia remarked in a wishful tone.

M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍

“So, you said you have three cats? What are their names?” Ishani asked the question she had wanted to ask ever since their mini discussion had been cut off earlier.

“Soonie, Doongie and Dori. They’re my babies,” Mihno cutely smiled, the expression reaching his eyes.

“Oh they sound so cute! I’m a vet and I love it when cats get brought into work,” Ishani commented, using her knife and fork to cut through her food.

“You’re a vet? Hey, one of the cats at this cat cafe I work at-”

“You work at a cat cafe? You’re an absolute dream,” Ishani couldn’t stop herself from interrupting, her heart fluttering.

“Yeah, it’s, umm, it's really fun,” Minho stuttered ever so slightly, not expecting the sudden compliment, “but, umm, yeah, one of the cats from the cat cafe keeps escaping the kennel area at night, and starts running around the cafe area and knocking things down. Is there something we should be doing?”

“You sure they aren’t drinking the coffee from behind the counter?” Ishani teased.

“No, no, no,” Minho chuckled and waved her question off.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It sounds like they’ve just got the zoomies and are trying to burn off some energy before getting some sleep,” Ishani thoughtfully considered.

“Burn off energy? It’s like they’re trying to burn years off of my life expectancy,” Minho whined jokingly, making his wife burst out into laughter.

S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍 S.O 🤍

“Something about walking around, just the two of us, feels so much better,” Octavia mused, her hand intertwined with Seungmins as they wandered the grand hall their wedding had taken place in.

“I agree. Feels more… calm. I definitely feel more relaxed now,” Seungmin declared quietly, almost like he felt a bit sensitive in doing so.

“I did notice that during the day you seemed to relax more,” Octavia nodded in agreement.

“Oh you did? You must have thought ‘what have I gotten myself into?’ when we were at the ceremony,” Seungmin expressed in an exaggerated tone

“Yeah, I did,” Octavia sighed.

“Wait… really?” Seungmin paused in his tracks, causing his wife to stop too.

“No! I’m kidding, chill,” Octavia rolled her eyes with a smirk, pulling him forwards with her.

“Aish,” Seungmin blinked in amazement at being fooled. There seemed to be a void in his heart that was already being filled, little by little.

M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍 M.I 🤍

After the dinner with their loved ones, Minho and Ishani had sat down on the edge of the water fountain outside, admiring the greenery and fairy lights around them, as well as the starry night sky. The conversation between them flowed so naturally, before Minho’s intrusive thoughts got in the way.

“What if I pushed you in?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Not in these clothes!” Ishani whacked him on the shoulder lightly, both physically and in intention.

“Right, they’re far too gorgeous to ruin,” Minho let his eyes scan her outfit once more.

“Hey! What about… I don’t know, me?!” Ishani folded her arms.

“What… are you too gorgeous to ruin?” Minho seductively lowered his voice, before reminding himself this was the first day they had met, they hadn’t even known each other for 24 hours yet and Ishani’s eyes had immediately widened upon his question. “Omo, forget about that…”

“Ok, ok,” Ishani nodded, turning away and trying to hide her smile, seeing that Minho was trying to dig himself out of the hole he had just made.

“You do look lovely though,” Minho affirmed, always the gentleman.

“Thanks,” Ishani patted him on the knee. Their wedding day couldn’t have gotten any better. Now, they were both just excited for their honeymoon so that they could learn even more things about each other.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

viewers: @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse @jyu-037 @keen-li @strawberry31 @5starlee @shua-f4lmings @amararosesblog @noyurcapri @babybreadddd @theo4eve @gimmeurtummy @zee-143 @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @katzline @haodore @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @milf-ivy