#vari myste

[gigifujijifu]

I enjoyed spending time with the voidsent again for All Saints' Wake this year ♥

Main post is on bsky.

[wordswhisperinthedark]

📢 GET THE WINBRE KIDS STRONG SOLID FAMILIAL (ADULT) SUPPORTS

[maeum-your]

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

synopsis: life with all its unexpected twists and turns decides it hates you big time. your best friend ends up taking you on a trip to italy to help you escape the cruelties of your existence for at least a couple of days.

when a handsome stranger saves you from some intimate time with the airport floor and you later happen to bump into him again at your hotel, you decide to spend more time together. is it wise to open up your heart to him?

starring: enhypen jay & sunghoon, ningning (aespa), soobin (txt)

genre: one-shot, fluff, angst, slightly humorous (to some) (perhaps)

warnings: no smut but there definitely is talk about the omegaverse (idk how that happened either), harmless making out, quite a bit of cursing, dysfunctional families, my restrained need to talk about my hero academia so mc mentions todoroki quite a bit lmaoo my bad

word count: 14.1k

a/n: happy comeback day 🎉🎉🎉

my first fic in two years woooo! i started writing this two summers ago but never ended up getting past the first draft. it took a lot of editing and revising to get it to where it is now and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

the location where this is taking place holds a very special place in my heart 💞

“and above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.” - roald dahl

you had your palms pressed against the cool glass, mouth hanging wide open in wonder as you gazed through the window. wings broke through the cotton candy field of clouds, your final destination becoming visible at long last.

stiff limbs from flying for so long were quickly forgotten as you took in the scenery from above. a breathtaking tapestry of vineyards and olive groves stretched across the landscape, the late afternoon sun illuminating the waters of the serpentine river slithering through the city below.

everything just looked so very different from what you were used to. the skyscrapers and gray monotony of your own life disappeared to the far back of your mind.

“i knew you’d love it, but you literally have heart eyes right now. you better close your mouth before you start catching flies.“

the redhead next to you nudged you in the ribs, giggling at the wonderstruck expression on your face. “mission accomplished. just what i was hoping for.“

you rolled your eyes at ningning’s teasing smirk but couldn‘t stop your mouth from stretching into a big smile, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“oh, shut it, you.“

soon, you‘d made your way through security and headed to pick up your luggage. you hadn‘t really brought much—a single suitcase sufficed for the short stay ningning had planned. yet, you already found yourself wishing for more time in this special little corner of the world.

completely exhausted after a full day of flying and five layovers, yet brimming with anticipation, you stood waiting at the baggage carousel. it seemed to take forever, though you didn‘t mind, not much, whistling a jolly tune while tapping your feet, watching bags and suitcases of all sizes, shapes and colors get picked up by people just as varied as their belongings.

as you finally laid eyes on your rosé gold suitcase and moved to retrieve it, a collision sent you staggering. if not for a stranger with superhuman reflexes who had reached out and pulled you back by the waist after someone’s shoulder had slammed into yours with unexpected force, you might have ended up greeting the grimy verona airport floor with your face.

a silver-haired young man at a distance waved apologetically. “my bad!“ he yelled and then, addressing the mysterious stranger who still had his arm wrapped snugly around your waist, “come on, dude. our cab‘s waitin‘.“

your savior was donning a pair of gray joggers and a zip hoodie, the hood drawn up, sunglasses hiding his eyes as he bent his head to look at you. concern lined the features that weren‘t being concealed, lending him a mysterious air amidst the casual attire.

“is your shoulder okay? sorry about my friend; we‘re in a little bit of a rush and he’s a little… well, let’s just call him a high energy individual.“ with a quick bow, he darted off after the silver-haired man, leaving before you could utter a word in response. the kind stranger had gone before you could get a proper look at his face.

lucky for you, ningning had maintained her composure amidst the chaos and had swiftly retrieved both your suitcases from the carousel in the meantime. it was exactly what you expected from the hyper-focused and detail-oriented woman. you wouldn‘t be surprised if she could read an academic paper and understand all its concepts without struggling even in the middle of attending a death metal concert or riding a rollercoaster. she had always been nothing short of amazing.

with her hand on her waist, the redhead sighed as she glanced after the two men responsible for the commotion.

“that was one hell of a main character moment, huh?���

you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, still feeling the lingering touch of the stranger and the faint scent of his cologne in the air.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

after picking up the keys for the rental car you had pre-booked through the company's website, you set off from verona airport. inside the shark blue volkswagen golf, the windows remained down to combat the stifling, humid air. normally, you would have minded—the hair sticking to your forehead and the beads of sweat forming—but here in verona, one of italy’s most historically and culturally significant cities, it felt liberating. it felt like freedom.

the breeze that flowed through the open windows swept away all the pent-up frustrations and stresses of the past weeks, carrying them far into the distance. in its wake, it left a sense of tranquility that you weren’t sure you had ever experienced.

ningning had a white scarf draped elegantly around her head and neck, its thin fabric fluttering in the wind. She wore stylish louis vuitton sunglasses perched on her nose and sported bright red lips that shimmered in the sunlight. ningning was the embodiment of the phrase "to go in fashion," effortlessly turning heads wherever she went.

you closed your eyes and let the crisp air tickle your skin.

passing through several charming villages, you eventually arrived at lago di garda. mesmerized by the lake of shining waters, you decided to take a leisurely drive around its perimeter.

a few windsurfers skillfully glided across the water, harnessing the wind's power, while most people were beginning to depart as the sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over everything. high-pitched calls echoed as seagulls swooped and scavenged. you couldn't help but burst into laughter as you watched one bold seagull snatch a sandwich right out of a tourist's hand, prompting a comical chase that ended in a flurry of french profanities.

by the time you completed your circuit around the lake, darkness had nearly enveloped the landscape. the sun had slipped behind the mountains, cooling the air. above, the moon shone brightly, casting a silvery glow that danced across the lake's surface.

the way up the winding road of the mountain might not have taken long but it sure wasn‘t relaxing either. your knuckles turned white from gripping the sides of your seat so hard as your best friend navigated the curves and twists of the road in the near dark. the hillside wasn’t secured at all and, if you were being completely honest, you didn‘t necessarily trust your best friend’s driving skills.

her reckless mode of driving stemmed less from any daredevil traits the redhead didn‘t possess and more from an earnest lack of skill. not that the overachiever didn‘t try to make up for it with rigorous practice.

a car came racing down the road at full speed, blinding you with its headlights. you squeezed your eyes shut. so this is how it would end? you were still so young and there was so much you still wanted to do… oh, no—would your mother throw away your psychologically large manga collection? you didn‘t want todoroki living inside a trash can.

through some miraculous maneuvering, ningning steered the car close enough to the edge that the speeding vehicle narrowly missed you. perhaps you needed to give her driving skills more credit after all. with a heavy sigh, you slumped back into your seat. todoroki was safe.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“soobin, my man. how nice to see you! how's the family?”

checking in at the hotel took a little longer than it might have usually. ningning was happily chatting away with the blue-haired receptionist, whom she‘d known ever since he‘d started working there five years ago. her family had been coming up there for the past ten summers or so, enjoying a few quiet weeks together in the mountains. it was quite strange, actually, that you‘d never come there with them, but then again, your own parents had always liked to keep you where they could see you. you'd spent your high school summers with your nose in a textbook, as they forced you to attend summer school and other extra study sessions because anything less than a perfect grade was unacceptable.

with heavy eyelids and throbbing heads, the two of you headed straight to bed without having dinner at the hotel restaurant. you had bought a sandwich each at the airport to snack on during the ride, so you weren‘t really all that hungry. besides, there were still a couple of days ahead of you to enjoy all the delicious mediterranean specialties italy had to offer.

the mattress of the king-size bed was soft and bouncy as you flopped down on it. you sprawled out your tired limbs, feeling as if you were lying on top of a cloud.

ningning had immediately refused the idea of getting separate rooms or even separate beds. she had always been the clingy one, hanging onto your arm or cuddling up to you while watching tv. you didn’t mind; you enjoyed the feeling of someone actually wanting to be in your presence.

being apart even for just the night would probably not have been the smartest idea anyway. attached at the hip since the ripe age of five, ningning knew you as well as the back of her hand. if left alone for even a moment too long, she feared you might fall apart. and girls who fly together, cry together! or at least that’s what she‘d said. no solitary weeping for you.

sharing beds had been as much a regular occurrence throughout your friendship as drunkenly reading juicy omegaverse stories out loud at 3 a.m.

from the time she befriended you on your first day of kindergarten, when she'd scared off a boy who‘d been chasing after you with a worm, until now, you‘d been having weekly sleepovers.

as teens, there had occasionally been the unscheduled visit too, whenever having to deal with your controlling parents had gotten too difficult.

it just so happened that skillfully climbing out of your window and sneaking over to cuddle close under her soft duvets was the only way to calm the anguish tearing you apart like a feral beast. ningning would let you cry in her arms while you told her, in between broken sobs, all about what you had apparently done this time to garner your parents‘ disapproval. the arguments usually revolved around you not wearing the right clothes, not reading the right books, not getting the right grades, not having the right friends—you get the gist. nothing you ever did was right.

even so, within the next hour, you’d usually end up giggling uncontrollably as ningning made you watch an episode of how i met your mother or funny cat videos she‘d saved just for occasions like that. she was like a witch who could spirit away your worries with a wave of her hand.

what had happened this time, however, could not be solved by some simple quality time and extensive skinship. it had forced you to escape together, to run off to another country, even if just temporarily, taking a holiday in the comune of tenno situated near the foothills of the italian alps.

it was as if the majestic peaks of the surrounding mountains had put their protective arms around you, and the soothing breeze, carrying the earthy scent of nearby forests, lulled you to sleep. for once, you slept soundly, with no nightmares coming to plague you at night, nothing to disturb your peaceful slumber.

soft rays of sunlight danced along your skin, gently rousing you from sleep the next morning. as consciousness returned, you fluttered your eyes open.

beside you, the redhead stirred, grumbling something unintelligible before burying her face in the gigantic pillow. she was sprawled out across her mattress, clinging to the covers more than they clung to her. her tousled hair, evidence of a night filled with tossing and turning, revealed her to be an unexpectedly messy sleeper.

you patted her head with a fond smile before slipping away to take a shower. the cold water jolted you awake, breathing new life into your senses. today promised to be a good day—you could feel it in your bones.

squeaky clean and feeling refreshed, you opened the bathroom door, expecting to breathe in the calm morning air drifting through the open window. instead, you were greeted with a horrendous stench that made your eyes water.

ningning was holding up a spray bottle and waved it frantically, filling the room with a cloud of mosquito repellant that made you cough violently. you buried your nose in your shirt, shooting daggers at her with your eyes. your friend pointed to the dozen bites covering her legs and arms with a grimace. holy cow.

how had you not noticed them earlier? but then again, you‘d felt a little groggy and disoriented right after waking up, vision still blurry and that lightbulb up there not fully functioning yet.

throats all irritated and scratchy, you both struggled to catch your breaths between bouts of coughing. it was clear ningning had used way too much.

you gestured urgently toward the door, but ningning was preoccupied battling a tiny mosquito buzzing around her head. insects always turned your usually rational friend into a bit of a hysterical mess.

without hesitation, you grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

before you could breathe in the fresh, fume-free air, however, your body collided with something hard. the girl who had been just inches behind you crashed into you, knocking you over.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. why did your intuition about the trajectory of today have to be so far off?

your fall was cushioned by something soft and very much alive. holding your spinning head, you tried to push ningning off your back while simultaneously struggling to get up from whoever you had just taken down with you.

the frantic apology you were preparing got stuck in your throat as you looked down at the gorgeous adonis underneath you.

silky black strands of hair framed his sunkissed face, and his eyes were sharp and narrow. in theory, their design should‘ve made him look angry and serious, especially after being tackled to the ground so forcefully.

instead, he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise. “wait, aren‘t you the girl from the airport? i remember you. yeah, you were wearing a blue babydoll top, weren‘t you? you almost got knocked over.“

your eyes fell to the heart-shaped birthmark on his neck. realization dawned on you. you remembered catching a glimpse of that peculiar spot on his neck under the gray hood he‘d been wearing just a day prior.

“you‘re the one who saved me from falling.“

“i guess you came to take revenge on us.“ much to your surprise, he appeared completely indifferent to finding himself intimately acquainted with the floor. his laugh was rich and infectious, his eyes twinkling merrily. god, he was cute.

he promptly got up off the floor and extended a chivalrous hand to you, helping you up in one swift motion, the muscles in his arms flexing deliciously.

the strong grip on your hand and the gentle pull willed your face to stop mere inches away from his. you could feel his warmth radiating and caught a faint scent of his cologne. your eyes locked for a moment, and it was hard to keep a neutral facade—to act like this hadn’t just completely derailed your train of thought.

his surprise at the sudden proximity faded into something softer, the twinkling of his eyes reminiscent of the glimmering water of lago di garda underneath the evening sun.

this man had you writing poetry about him, and you didn‘t even know his name.

a cough interrupted the moment, drawing your attention. "i hate to interrupt, but technically, i’m on the floor because of you. so, can someone lend a hand before you two carry on with the romancing?“

heat seared across your face. you hurried to assist ningning, who had just borne witness to you drooling over some handsome stranger after you'd pushed her so callously to the ground. this man was undeniably good-looking, though, so you hoped she’d understand.

forget bros before hoes. as far as ningning was concerned, the more hoes for y/n, the better. you really were that bitchless. it wasn’t like you hadn‘t had your fair share of what you affectionately referred to as your gentleman callers, but unfortunately the only men you were attracted to were either fictional and/or two dimensional (literally). so you ogling at a living, breathing specimen of the opposite sex truly called for celebration.

another hand beat you to helping ningning up, belonging to a man slightly taller than the stranger you’d collided with. he possessed slender limbs, an elegant face with a mole beneath his right eye, and a rosy blush tinting his cheeks against silver hair.

he pointed to himself with a cheeky grin. “and i‘m the culprit of the hit and run. glad my man jay here,“ he draped an arm around the other man, “took such good care of you.“

although his words were aimed at you, his gaze remained fixed on ningning as if she were a rare gem on display. the object of his attention couldn’t help but laugh incredulously at the absurdity of the situation.

his friend, jay, freed himself from his grasp. “that’s not really something to brag about,“ he chided his friend with an exasperated sigh. “well, this is sunghoon, my idiotic best friend but i swear he‘s alright?“ the last bit came out more like a question.

was he really alright, like mentally, jay wondered as he watched his friend unabashedly checking out ningning from head to toe, the grin on his face growing impossibly wider, giving off an air of mischief jay had grown accustomed to over the years.

“and who might you be?“ sunghoon incquired in a sultry tone, eyes lingering a tad too long on the pink pajama shorts your best friend was still wearing.

“if i tell you, will you promise to finally stop doing that,“ she gestured to his face with a frown, “weird eyebrow thing you have going on?“

sunghoon, who had indeed been wiggling his eyebrows while squinting and puckering his lips, attempted to defend himself. "i was aiming for 'man of your dreams' but i'll take the feedback," he grumbled, straightening up and relaxing his features. when he wasn‘t contorting his face, he didn‘t look half bad—he was almost as handsome as his companion, though you were clearly biased in that regard.

ningning breathed a sigh of relief, as if finally cured of a long period of intense suffering. “much, much better. and, as promised, i‘m ningning. and,“ shifting the attention to you as she nodded in your direction affectionately, “this is y/n.“

“sorry, for earlier,“ sunghoon apologized impishly, rubbing the back of his neck after receiving a warning glare from ningning.

“no harm done.“

“a lovely name for a lovely lady,“ jay remarked with a charming smile. if he was indeed flirting, you were relieved that his approach was far more refined compared to his friend’s antics. a true gentleman caller indeed.

wait—he was flirting with you? the tingling sensation that swept through your body embarrassed you enough to avert your eyes at record speed. who would’ve thought that not only would you one day find a man you actually found sorta attractive, but that he’d also be trying to woo you with his irresistible charms?

lovely, lovely ningning, the incarnation of cupid herself, someone who knew you inside out, backwards and forwards, immediately picked up on the vibes. a cunning smile tugged at her lips.

“so,“ she clapped her hands together, “would you guys,“ stare lingering on jay specifically, “like to join us for breakfast? we,“ glancing at you, “would be glad for some company.“

you weren‘t quite sure whether to strangle ningning or kiss her. if she wanted to play matchmaker, right now wasn‘t really an appropriate time. a summer fling, or, god forbid, a summer romance wasn't really what you were looking for. you thought about the reason that had necessitated your escape in the first place and shuddered. 2d men would be a much safer option.

the redhead, noticing this, gave you an encouraging smile as she touched your arm. it‘s going to be alright, she seemed to say. the tension in your body relaxed slightly.

sunghoon, completely oblivious to the very obvious scheme ningning was planning, swung his arm around jay‘s shoulder, squeezing him way too tight. he stared him down with huge, unsettling orbs and an over-the-top smile. “we would love to. right, jay?“

not a single person in this hallway was being very subtle about their intentions. it all felt a little too bizarre to be real.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression. his gaze lingered, unwavering and deep, as if trying to read you.

finally, his face relaxed into a pleasant smile. “right, sunghoon.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“i like women with opinions. so hot.“

ningning glanced at you discreetly, her face a silent cry for help.

sunghoon had his head resting on his arms, looking dreamily at the redhead sitting in front of him. it wasn‘t that your best friend wasn‘t accustomed to attention from both boys and girls, but no one had ever been so weird about it. his excessive fluttering eyelashes and exaggerated sighs made it difficult to take him seriously, as if he were a man who'd just experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life and was now asking for another round.

even jay seemed lost for words, shooting sunghoon some serious side-eyes, unable to flatten his facial expression into anything other than a mix of mortified amusement and concern for his friend‘s mental state.

“has anyone told you that you‘re a bit peculiar?“ ningning asked, taking a sip from her orange juice, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized sunghoon.

“oh yeah, all the time, but it sounds so much sexier when you say it,“ sunghoon replied with a playful grin.

“okay, time to switch the subject.“ jay needed to cut off sunghoon before he‘d start spouting even more unhinged nonsense. “we‘ve established ningning is a pre-law student who can kick ass. so, y/n, how do you go about insulting stupid people?“

“oh, i might not say it to your face but i will use you for inspiration as a villain in one of my stories and make you suffer. like, a lot.“ you shrugged nonchalantly, as if that was a completely normal thing to say.

“creative, i like that,“ jay chuckled. “so i take it you‘re a writer then?“

wildly embarrassed all of a sudden, you played with the fresh strawberries on your plate. “not exactly. i‘m an english major and, well, i do enjoy writing in my spare time. but it‘s nothing to write home about, really.“

in truth, you had a few short stories published online and plenty of my hero academia fanfics on ao3, but revealing that would literally shatter your dignity into a million tiny, irreparable pieces.

“what about you?“ you quickly asked jay, shifting the spotlight away from yourself. you were accustomed to avoiding attention, fearing that someone (usually your parents) might uncover and critique your flaws. “let me guess. you’re obviously very knowledgeable when it comes to fashion, so… fashion design, perhaps!“

jay was impeccably dressed and styled. at the airport, he had sported a more relaxed and comfortable look, but today he was wearing a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts, and wristwatch that caught the sunlight. the golden earrings added a touch of chic to his ensemble.

what had really given you the notion in the first place, however, was the fact that he started meticulously analyzing the outfit of every single person in the room the moment you entered, providing a long-winded commentary about the latest fashion trends from all across the globe. you could only hope that the white shirt dress you had on was jay-approved.

“sooo close,“ he chuckled ironically. “it‘s actually business administration and management.“

this revelation made you tilt your head curiously. jay did exude a hint of businesslike demeanor at first glance, but his personality was far from aloof. you had expected something different, something more tailored to his personality, that‘s all.

it was nice to get to know what the two strangers at the table were like, and you listened fondly to the stories ningning was telling, even though you‘d already heard them hundreds of times. you starred in most of them anyway.

the only issue was that jay seemed very interested in you. why would this be an issue, a sane person might ask. a hot, fashionable man with good manners showing interest in you. boo hoo. go jump off a cliff.

you internally scolded yourself for being so tense, but it wasn‘t easy to just let go and relax. just how much of yourself could you give away without going from a hot mess to just straight-up professional problem collector? if only you had the superpower to come up with half-truths on the spot that could make you sound way cooler than you were, but you weren‘t ningning. you were creative, yes, as illustrated by your artistic pursuits, but that creativity needed to simmer and only came loose when it wanted to. you couldn‘t summon it in an instant. you probably came across like a proper snooze-fest with the way all of your answers were as specific as a fortune cookie.

if jay was deterred by this, it didn‘t show. he was like a gold digger searching for the treasure. in this case, something you could talk about without restraint. he sensed an active inner world and was convinced he just needed to show enough genuine interest to coax it out of you. if only he knew the right things to say—

“don‘t ignore me.“ sunghoon crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a kicked puppy. “if i don‘t get attention, i‘ll die.“

“much better,“ he said solemnly, when everyone turned to him, swiftly ignoring the raised eyebrows.

“ningning. i need one of your sexy opinions. hotdogs? are they a sandwich?“

the redhead blinked blankly, momentarily forgetting to chew on her food. “excuse me, what?“

“is a hotdog a sandwich,“ he repeated as if it were the most normal question in the world.

“no? yes. no! what?“ you‘d never seen your best friend so lost for words. she opened and closed her mouth, spluttering in confusion.

“shouldn‘t it be though? there‘s bread on two opposite sides.“

“but a hotdog is just a hotdog, and a sandwich is just a sandwich,“ she contemplated, treating the question with more seriousness than the situation required.

“look,“ she said, pointing the fork at him, “one has two separate pieces of bread, and the other is a sliced bun.“

“yeah, they don‘t have the same shape either,“ you chimed in. “and a hot dog has the bread on the sides, but a sandwich has it on the top and bottom.“

“would you then agree that a hot dog is a taco?“

say what now?

he shrugged. “they‘re the same shape, so according to your logic, a hotdog would be a taco.“

ningning thought about this. “i guess it would be more of a taco than a sandwich.“

“that wasn‘t the point i was trying to make.“ sunghoon muttered displeased.

“actually,“ jay had pulled out his phone, “according to merriam-webster, a sandwich is defined as having two or more slices of bread or a split roll with a filling in between. this would mean that a hotdog is, in fact, a sandwich. however—“

“ha, i told you so. guess i know more than you after all, mon chéri,“ sunghoon taunted ningning, relishing in riling her up. did he know whom he was messing with? arguing with the redhead was as safe as juggling chainsaws.

ningning folded her arms. “that‘s literally complete bullshit. have they literally never seen a sandwich before?“

“if you would let me finish,“ jay raised his voice, lips pressed into a tight line, unamused by their bickering, “the washington post argues that classification can be done by applying the cube rule, which categorizes food by the placement of starch. and hot dogs are defined by starch on the bottom and on two opposing sides.“

“so basically, what you‘re trying to say is—actually, i have no idea what you just said. i guess we just have to agree to disagree, sweetheart.“ sunghoon winked at ningning. she looked like she was about to jump at him and stab him with her fork.

ningning didn‘t lose. that was a fact. as a middle schooler, she‘d had a reputation for obliterating even the most raunchy, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, everything-phobic boys into submission. then, during high school, she‘d been known as the undefeated wrecking ball at every debate tournament, serving up verbal beatdowns like they were free samples at costco.

winning pointless discussions was what she did best.

the back-and-forth continued, phones were pulled out, receipts shown.

“yeah, i don‘t think i‘m as invested in this as they are.“ you said to jay, accompanied by a wry sigh.

“me neither.“

he was secretly glad it gave him the chance to return to the earlier conversation. what should he focus on? what moved you? you‘d been so humble about your writing; he was sure there must be more.

“you said you liked to write? any plans on becoming a published author then?“

a bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. you scrambled to cover it up by putting on a totally-not-forced smile. definitely not the best choice of topic.

you were the only daughter of an affluent family and expected successor to a big hotel chain. your parents had nearly combusted when you‘d chosen to study english at a smallish public university instead of sticking to the meticulously mapped-out 200-step life plan for you.

step one: no room for defiance.

step two: exceed perfection.

the arts were only ever desirable when they were being consumed, not pursued. they didn‘t understand that someone had to create that art in the first place for others to appreciate it.

writing fiction was akin to attending a formal dinner party butt-nacked, as far as your parents were concerned anyway. they judged your devotion to made-up stories as disgraceful.

despite all of your attempts to escape your so-called destiny, your parents never gave up trying to mold you into someone you weren‘t—an impossible version of yourself they expected you to eventually accept. your true personality was dismissed as “just a phase.“

desperately clinging onto your dreams, you knew that what had transpired right before your escape had the power to alter the trajectory of your entire life.

the room was quieter than a mime convention as you contemplated your life choices, wondering why there couldn’t have been an instruction manual for when shit like this happens.

jay furrowed his eyebrows. “parental issues, i assume?“

good thing your jaw was securely attached to your skull because— “how on earth? are you some kind of psychic or what?”

he gave an unperturbed shrug. “isn‘t it always parental issues, though?“

“true.“ you sipped on your water, eyeing him suspiciously. you couldn‘t believe you were that easy to read, more transparent than a freshly cleaned windowpane. mastering the art of hiding your true thoughts and feelings was the one superpower you had to learn in order to avoid nuclear-level arguments with your parents.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression before his lips curled into a gentle smile, making you almost forget that you were supposed to be in full-on panic mode.

“so i guess you‘re here to forget all about that? tenno really is a beautiful place. it‘s so easy to put aside all of your worries once you‘re up here.“

“i think so too,“ you nodded enthusiastically, relieved that he wasn‘t going to press on about the whole parental issues thing. “it was all ningning‘s idea to come. she said she knew just the right spot, so here we are. i gather you‘ve been here before?“

“hundreds of times,“ he said. you noticed he had a tendency to trail off into laughter the end of his sentences.

“actually, i’ve been wondering—have you made any plans yet? sunghoon and i were going to walk to the art colony not far from here. not only is the route is lovely, but i think it might speak to your artistic side. what do you say?“

hell yes, you thought, but then remembered it was probably embarrassing to be so excited about spending time with someone you literally didn‘t even know.

“ningning?“ you tapped your friend on the elbow, prompting her to abrubtly cease arguing with sunghoon, leaving the silver-haired man to sulk.

“do you want to go with them today? they‘re visiting an art colony. we haven‘t planned anything, right?“

you tried to keep the pleading puppy eyes in check, hoping she hadn‘t secretly arranged any plans yet. looking at art? sounds perfect. looking at art with a hot guy? fucking amazing.

“as long as he admits that i am right,“ ningning rolled her eyes at sunghoon who regarded her with a scoff.

“you wish, mon chér—ouch.“

you had enough tact to pretend not to have noticed jay kicking sunghoon under the table.

“fine. you win this round, sweetheart.“

ningning stuck out her tongue at him and did a little victory dance. seemed like you weren‘t the only one in a good mood.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the art colony was a medieval village named canale di tenno. as you strolled through its cobblestone streets, you immediately noticed the unusually tall stone houses, some four or even five stories high, every wall slanted and crooked. you admired their rustic facades and flower-adorned balconies.

you moved under archways and through narrow alleys, all leading to the piazzetta, the village square, where a few cozy restaurants were located. especially for someone from a big city, this small and rural village with its forty residents and handful of art galleries and shops felt like a 180 degree switch to the skyscrapers and anonymous crowds of seoul. vibrant artwork was displayed on most of the windowsills and you were welcomed with genuine enthusiasm everywhere you entered.

jay grew more and more attractive with each passing minute, acting as a tour guide and sharing his extensive knowledge about the village and its people with you.

he was now leading you through the historic house museum, known as the casa degli artisti, dedicated to the renowned italian artist giacomo vittone. the museum not only paid homage to his contribution to the arts, but the collection also featured works by other artists who‘d been inspired by the region.

the owner greeted jay like an old friend, patting him on his back as he gave him a hug followed by a kiss on each cheek. jay conversed in fluent italian, gushing over the new pieces of art that had been added since his last visit. your handsome stranger seemed to know a lot about many of the individual artworks and personally guided you through the exhibitions.

meanwhile, ningning and sunghoon seemed to be in their own little bubble, bickering for the majority of the time, but you could tell it was all in good fun. if you weren’t mistaken, and you rarely were when it came to your best friend, ningning had taken a liking to the silver-haired man. she did like being challenged, though not as much as she liked to win, and she was definitely more than capable of dealing with all the teasing and pestering he made use of to secure her attention.

you weren’t really focused on the pair, if you were being honest. you’d always been a fan of the arts, fascinated by the way literature and art intersected in many places.

you eagerly bombarded jay with question after question about the pieces, any traces of shyness had vanished, replaced by a thirst for knowledge. he smiled to himself and did his best to answer, happily delving into discussions about the color palettes and artistic forms with you, delighted to see you coming out of your shell.

after having gone through each piece in extensive length, you went into a tiny store selling art goods.

the moment you stepped in, your eyes darted from one corner to the other, heart swelling with joy, unsure where to look first. if you could have, you would have bought everything they were selling. each and every piece had been crafted by hand, none of that factory-produced stuff. all the goods were unique to the village, to that store. how you wished you could’ve properly supported the local community and all its artists.

fleeing home in a hurry meant you hadn‘t been able to exchange your korean wons to euros, and most places here didn’t have card readers.

besides, you were sick and tired of being reliant on mommy‘s and daddy‘s money. all you‘d ever wanted was to support yourself by writing novels. being dependent on your parents was one thing, but the thought of being dependent on… well, him. you shook your head to rid yourself of that painful feeling. real life could wait.

everyone ventured off on their own, taking their time to absorb the treasures inside the room for as long or as little as they liked.

at a table just behind the corner stood an army of little frog figurines made of clay, painted a muddy green. the whimsical creatures with their silly little faces warmed your heart. it was a bit strange; they were only frogs after all, yet you couldn’t help but feel an immediate attachment to them.

“they‘re beautiful, aren‘t they?“ jay appeared soundlessly by your side.

you nodded. he gently lifted one to his eyes and inspected it closely, focusing on a peculiar spot under its eye. “this one kinda looks a bit like sunghoon.“

“oh, i see it.“

you picked up another one. “and this one‘s you.“ the paint had chipped off a little at the neck in exactly the shape of a heart.

jay pointed to another one and said it looked like you.

you tilted your head to the side, staring at the frog with a puzzled expression. “how come?“

“it‘s cute.“

heat rushed to your cheeks. he looked straight at you, face completely serious.

you quickly averted your eyes. the intensity in which he studied you was too much. it made you feel a little self-conscious.

ignoring your erratic heartbeat, you continued going through the frogs, the perfect excuse not to look back up at jay. rather coincidentally, since you weren‘t really focusing on the task at hand, you found the remaining missing member of your little frog community. a tiny amphibian with lovely wide eyes bore a striking resemblance to your best friend. give her a wig and voilá—amphibian ningning.

not only did jay end up buying the four frogs, but he also insisted on getting lunch for all of you. ningning and you tried to protest, but sunghoon, already used to his friend‘s generous spending sprees, ordered an obscene amount of food as if it were the last time he would eat ever. ningning and you still felt bad about leeching off jay when both of your families were rolling in dough, but there was no point arguing with the man.

by the time everyone had finished, you felt like you were about to burst any minute. despite having to soothe your aching tummies, it was worth it. the polenta e funghi you‘d had… fucking hell.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the way back to the hotel felt much more tedious than when you‘d walked to canale di tenno. the blisters on your feet screamed for mercy, unwilling to continue trotting under the glistening sun. your full bellies dragged you down, inviting you to lie down on the grass and close your eyes for a moment.

“how come you knew the owner of the museum so well?“ you inquired, curious to learn more about jay. you walked side by side, with ningning and sunghoon a little ahead.

“oh, i thought i mentioned it. he’s actually a distant relative of mine. i‘m not quite sure. i think he is my great aunt‘s husband‘s sister‘s husband or something like that? yeah, sounds about right.“ he rubbed the back of his neck. “he and his wife rejected the luxury of our family name and she moved here to live with him, where they'd first met and fallen in love. we haven‘t been here since they got married; i'm barely even allowed to mention him to my parents. we‘re not known for being very tolerant.“

he clenched his teeth. he hated how his family had acted. was acting. he liked his great-great-uncle, admired him even.

“i wish i had the courage to be more like him, to bravely go against expectation.“

you nodded thoughtfully. “sometimes our hearts don‘t want what others have picked out for us.“

he gave you a meaningful look, but you couldn‘t decipher it.

you were walking uphill now, labored breaths escaping you with every step. ningning and sunghoon appeared to be immersed in some conversation that required a lot of gestures, judging by their constant arm movements, but they were too far ahead, fueled by their competitive energy, for you to hear.

you watched their backs as you listened to the birdsong accompanying your journey. you closed your eyes for just a second, enjoying the lovely melody, but that was all it took. you misstepped.

jay‘s reflexes kicked in just a tick too late, and there you were, crouching on the ground, face contorted in pain, clutching your ankle. you tried to stand, but the sharp pain that shot up your foot forced you back down with a yelp. the pair ahead of you quickly rushed back to you upon hearing your agonized howl.

“let me take a look,” jay said gently.

reluctantly, you allowed him to examine your ankle, wincing as the prodded it with a gentle touch. “it hurts like a bitch.”

“it‘s swollen; i think you sprained it. you shouldn‘t walk on it, or it‘ll get worse.“

“oh, my sweet little darling! i’ll get you back safely, don’t worry. hop on.“ ningning stood with a slight forward lean, ready to receive the weight.

sunghoon affectionately tapped her head and chuckled. "it’s nice that you’re so concerned, but don’t you think it would be much easier if either jay or i carried her? not to brag or anything, but i'm pretty strong."

sunghoon‘s enthusiasm faded into mortification as he caught the warning in jay's eyes.

"or… jay can carry y/n since he is much, much stronger than i am. yes, big biceps and all that good stuff. loads of muscle. umm, if you know, you know.“

you probably had no choice but to continue the journey on jay’s back. putting pressure on your foot hurt so bad and bruises already started to form a purplish-red hue.

before you could even think about protesting, he effortlessly scooped you up and adjusted you onto his back. hands secured around his neck and shoulders, you could feel his strong muscles at work as he resumed walking.

despite the situation, you couldn‘t help but feel a little flustered being so close to him. ningning winking at you from the side probably didn‘t help much either.

jay didn't complain even once about the extra weight. on the contrary, he continued talking so effortlessly, as if he weren’t carrying an entire person on his back.

“you know, this reminds me of a hike i did in the rockies last year,“ he began, voice calm and steady. “except it was sunghoon who twisted his ankle, and i had to carry him.“

you laughed softly. “it‘s insane that you‘re not even breaking a sweat, especially, in this heat,“ you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

you felt him shrug. “years of hiking and a bit of gym time,“ he replied nonchalantly. “plus, i think carrying a beautiful girl might be giving me an extra burst of energy.“

it sure was a good thing that he couldn't see your face at that moment. your cheeks burned hot as he continued making light conversation.

jay‘s relaxed demeanor helped you forget the throbbing pain in your ankle for the most part, allowing you to genuinely enjoy the rest of the walk. with no need to focus on where you were stepping anymore, you could fully take in the view, catching glimpses of a lake glimmering through the trees.

when you reached the hotel, you experienced a confusing mix of relief and disappointment as jay gently set you down. “there you go, safe and sound.“

jay went to find some ice for your ankle, and ningning retrieved painkillers from her suitcase.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

for dinner, you indulged in strangolapreti—spinach and ricotta dumplings served with a sage and butter sauce—and some pollo alla cacciatora, hunter‘s chicken cooked in a tomato and herb sauce. jay used his perfect italian to inquire about the restaurant’s finest wines, settling on a bottle of teroldego rotaliano, made from grapes native to the trentino region. because of your stupid ankle and reliance on painkillers, however, you didn't have more than just a sip or two.

after a second bottle, some gelato and more ibuprofen for your ankle, the group decided to spend the rest of the evening playing card games, which led to some rather… let‘s say interesting bets.

"i’ll let you bleach my eyebrows and dye them pink if i lose."

"if i win, i‘m going to draw dicks on your faces."

“you have to do a hundred push-ups wearing a maid costume.“

none of the bets— or so you thought— ended up being actualized since you were far too gone far too soon. the moment your head hit the pillow, you drifted off to dreamland, the sharpie shlong on your chin moving with every soft snore.

stupid, fucking ankle. why won’t you work the way you’re supposed to?!

you felt bad beyond measure. the last thing you wanted was to spoil your friends’ fun just because your ankle decided to act like a major bitch right now.

during lunch the day before, ningning had suggested a drive down to lago di garda to explore the towns there, and you wished they would just go do exactly that today.

ignoring your pleading looks, they insisted on staying at the hotel with you but what kind of shitty friend would you be if you were to allow that.

“please just go and don‘t worry about me. i‘ll be fine here on my own. there’s plenty to enjoy—good food and maybe i’ll go chill by the pool or whatever.“

ningning, whose cheeks were stuffed with strawberries, making her look like a cute little chipmunk, shook her head vehemently. “how could we just leave you here? girl, i didn’t drag you all across the globe just to abandon you. nope, i‘m staying.” she motioned vaguely toward the guys. “these two can go, but i’m not leaving you, especially not when you‘re in such a vulnerable position right now. i really don't—“

you shot her a sharp look, halting her mid-sentence. you didn’t want to be rude, but your current predicament really was none of their business.

“yo, we‘re not heartless (well, not completely)… if you‘re stayin’, we‘re stayin‘.“ what sunghoon meant by that was that he was going to follow wherever ningning would go. probably.

you nervously looked between the three of them. “but ningning, i know you‘ve been wanting to visit sirmione. you‘ve been talking about finding that restaurant your grandma used to take you to as a kid, right?“

ningning pouted. it was true. in recent years, her grandma’s illness had prevented her from making the trip with the rest of the family and her passing still weighed heavily on ningning, who had cherished her dearly. the old lady had been your best friend‘s favorite person in the whole world. next to you, goes without saying.

“and sunghoon,“ you turned to him, “you were so excited when we made these plans yesterday. it’s your first time here so you haven‘t had the chance to explore the region either.“

jay hummed thoughtfully. “what about this: ningning and sunghoon take the drive down to the lake. i’ll stay with you. i‘ve been here countless times and have seen everything there is to see.“

now, see, you wanted to protest, you really did, but he did have a valid point. you were less concerned about him missing out than you were with sunghoon and ningning, and let's face it, the selfish desire to have him all to yourself was enough to make you waver. not only was he the most handsome man you‘d ever laid eyes on, including your 2d crushes—okay, maybe not as good-looking as todoroki—, but there was also something else simmering beneath the surface that you just couldn‘t wrap your mind around. you wanted to know what it was.

ningning caught your eye and smirked knowingly. yes, this was perfect. now she could leave you in good conscience. there was no way she‘d let you refuse now.

“have fun, you two,“ she hollered over her shoulder as she practically dragged a bewildered sunghoon away.

“poor ningning. i kinda feel bad for leaving her alone with sunghoon. again.“

you waved off his concern. “you should be worried for sunghoon‘s sake. trust me when i say ningning can handle herself.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“guess you‘re stuck here with me now.”

you were both lying on sun loungers by the pool, enjoying the gentle breeze that swirled around you. you had brought a book with you, anne of green gables to be exact (one of your favorites), expecting jay to swim a couple of laps, but instead, he stayed glued to your side.

“poor me,” he said with a teasing smile, placing his hand on his chest in fake agony. “spending my time with a beautiful girl. life really gives the toughest battles to its strongest soldiers.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from grinning. “whatever.”

“what about this? we have some lunch and then—do you remember the lake you saw through the trees yesterday?—we can walk down there. it only takes five to ten minutes, so carrying you won‘t be a problem.”

“please don‘t! if you want to go, don't mind me. i‘ll be fine here.”

he wouldn‘t hear of it. “ah, ah, ah, no way! i‘m the one who really wants to show you the lake, so don‘t feel bad. besides, i’m a hundred percent confident you‘ve never seen anything that beautiful.“

“not even lago di garda?”

“not even close.”

he spoke with such confidence and self-assurance you felt it would be an insult to refuse.

the path to lago di tenno was a winding descent, flanked by dense greenery and the distant murmur of water. despite the uneven terrain and the extra weight he was bearing, jay‘s pace was unhurried and smooth.

as you approached the lake, the path leveled out and the view opened up to the sparkling water, an almost surreal shade of turquoise glistening under the midday sun. the lake‘s surface was remarkably still, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a fish darting below. surrounded by the unbelievably clear water was a small landmass featuring lush greenery, known as isola di tenno.

standing there and taking it all in, you felt peace settle within you. the fir and pine trees of the surrounding forests climbing the steep hillsides lent an earthy aroma to the crisp air.

it was as if time had slowed down, the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves adding to the harmonious symphony of nature.

jay‘s lips curved into a smile at the sight of your awestruck face. “i‘m glad i was right.“

you stayed at the shore and watched him wade into the lake. the cool water rose slowly up his legs, glistening as it clung to his sunkissed skin. you had to force yourself to look away, feeling like some kind of creepy stalker.

you let him enjoy the tranquility of the lake as you sat on the blanket you had brought with you. opening your trusty sketchbook, you scanned the landscape, wondering how you could capture its divine beauty on paper. your hand started moving on its own, inspiration from all around filling your heart and soul.

a sudden voice made you jump. “i didn‘t know you could draw so well. but i guess i shouldn’t be so surprised. you really did seem to be into all the art stuff yesterday.“

jay was bending down next to you, water dripping from his hair onto the blanket, looking at the page. “this is really good.“

“you think so?“ you asked. he hummed as he dried his hair with a towel.

“i‘ve always enjoyed drawing and painting. when i was younger, i used to write short stories about my childhood dog, a bearded collie named conan—yes, i named him after watching detective conan. such a good show, by the way. have you ever watched it? i don‘t know if i‘m allowed to say this as an english major, but it‘s sooo much better than the original sherlock holmes stories. i mean, there are very different, but i guess what i‘m trying to say is that they really don‘t hit the same, you know. they‘re kinda boring, actually. all the media inspired by the original sherlock holmes is so much better. bbc‘s sherlock—“

you only realized you were rambling big time when you ran out of breath. the amused smile on jay‘s face made you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“anyways, what i was going to say was that as i tried to bring conan alive on the pages, i thought it would be much better if you could see this silly little furball at the same time. so i started incorporating little illustrations of him every now and then.“

“i’ve never read the sherlock holmes books so i can’t really say much about them, but i did use to watch detective conan a lot as a kid (though i used to be kind of scared). conan always looked so cool fighting crime. i think it‘s an awesome name for a dog! do you,“ the eagerness in his voice surprised you, ”do you have anything you can show me?“

your hands were shaking. this felt a little too intimate, if you were being honest. still, he‘d been showing genuine interest—and hadn’t minded your ramblings—and you were in the mood to rave about your adorable dog.

“those are so cute. aww, look at his little scarf.“ he was swiping through your phone‘s gallery (a precarious situation considering the many bakudeku fanarts you had saved in your gallery) giving enthusiastic oohs and aahs when appropriate. there were so many drawings of conan. conan with his dotted red scarf. conan wearing yellow boots. conan chasing his tail. a leaf landing on conan‘s broad snout.

“i really think these are awesome. they seem to capture this little rascal‘s personality very well, and, oh my god, he is just so damn adorable. i wanna squish his fluffy butt cheeks.“

seeing this grown man get so excited about your doodles made you happier than you could‘ve ever imagined. this was exactly the feeling you wanted to evoke with your work. sure, most of your stories were primarily aimed at kids, but you believed that good children‘s books should be just as valuable to an adult, and illustrations played a big underrated role in that.

the fond, childlike look on his face as he studied your drawings started to overwhelm you. you didn‘t know how to react to praise, especially coming from someone who didn‘t know you very well so they had no reason to lie to make you happy.

you had to change the topic or you were legit going to cry. how embarrassing would that be, just straight up bawling because someone liked your drawings.

“what about you?“ you asked to push the attention away from you. “you said you were studying business administration. how‘s that?“

the mood shifted so quickly, it was like someone had flipped a switch. jay didn‘t look up from your phone, now looking at conan in a superhero costume with a serious, almost dejected expression.

giving the phone back, he blinked a couple of times as if trying to blink away unwanted thoughts.

“i mean, there are interesting concepts to learn about.“ he ran a hand through his still damp strands of hair and paused for a moment. “it’s okay, but that’s it, really. but i think you guessed that already.“ he smiled, but it didn‘t quite reach his eyes.

his gaze fixed on something far off into the distance. “there are quite a few jobs i can think of that i‘d rather do. fashion design, professional chef, hip-hop dancer... but unlike you or my great-great-uncle, i‘m not brave. if i‘d really wanted to, i could‘ve defied my parents and chosen a different path. i‘m a coward, y/n.“

you put a hand on his arm. “i don‘t know your circumstances in detail, but i understand that standing up for yourself can be more difficult than it seems. i‘m not sure what gave you the impression that i'm brave because i'm really not. despite everything, i‘m still nothing more than my parents‘ marionette.“

his sigh betrayed an uncharacteristically sorrowful heaviness.

“yet you still decided to pursue writing and drawing even though i can tell that decision must’ve not been an easy one. i know they mean well, my parents. they certainly think their plans will make me happy. i don’t think they understand. i’m not sure if i‘ve tried hard enough to make them… after all, how could they—“ his voice rose as he looked up at you with a furious expression, but he cut himself off, a horrified look on his face. he quickly collected himself again. “you know what? it doesn‘t matter. i don‘t want to think about it.“

you didn‘t press on. while you did want to comfort the inner child hurting so obviously inside him, to hug him and tell him he wasn‘t a coward and that he could be strong too, you felt like it wasn‘t your place to do so. he had set boundaries and you, practically only a stranger, weren‘t going to cross them.

it was interesting to see that your seemingly perfect stranger was not leading such a perfect life after all. you felt a little guilty, but it was reassuring in a way.

the silence that followed wasn‘t particularly uncomfortable though, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

the natural beauty and quietude all around you elicited a dreamy sigh from you.

"oh, why didn‘t i think of bringing a canvas and some paint down here with me? i guess i wasn't expecting to fall in love with this place so much. i just want to capture this moment for eternity, you know?"

"you mean like a picture?" he teased. you playfully glared at him. he held up both his hands. "kidding, just kidding. let me go grab one for you!"

as he began to rise, you placed a hand on his arm to prevent him from standing. his skin was cold under your fingers and the unexpected contact sent shivers down your spine.

"oh no, stay! please, i don't want you to have to walk all the way up there. we can just bring it tomorrow."

jay quirked an eyebrow. it took you a few seconds to understand that you had just insinuated he would have to carry you down here again the next day.

"ah, no, i‘m sorry. i kind of already forgot about my little handicap. you should definitely go do something nice instead.“

"but this is nice,“ he insisted. “something about the water and watching you draw so peacefully makes me feel at ease. life is going to be stressful enough when i have to return home. and simply said, i like sitting here and looking at the view." he winked at you and you suddenly felt a little braver.

"what was that? are you flirting with me, park?" you held your head high as you said this.

"and what if i am?"

your cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. even though you‘d responded to his wooing, you now had your tail between your legs and pretended to immerse yourself in your drawing again, doing your best to ignore the foreign feeling bubbling up inside your chest.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

late that evening, you lay in bed talking to ningning about your day.

she animatedly recounted the story of how they‘d found the restaurant she used to visit with her grandmother so many years ago. the owner had still recognized her, despite so much time having passed, and had prepared the most delicious lunch for them. sunghoon waited patiently—and surprisingly quietly—as the two ladies shared stories about ningning‘s grandmother. he even tried to cheer her up afterward by making a fool of himself in public (“he looked like he was doing a rendition of the ‘there‘s squirrels in my pants’ dance“) when she‘d started crying, suddenly overwhelmed by grief.

“he can be really nice when he wants to be. i think he‘s just a little,“ she drew out the last word, “bonkers, but our energies kind of match, if you know what i mean? he attacks, i strike back. he talks shit, i tell him why he's wrong. it’s like a game. there’s definitely never a boring moment when he’s around, i’ll give him that. oh, stop looking at me like that!“ she dismissed the smirk on your face. “it‘s really not like that. man, i saw him picking his nose, that shit turns you off. and when he came back from the bathroom, his fly was open. nothing romantic‘s going on here, i promise! but i do think we could be friends.“

she clapped her hands together, super excited all of a sudden. “enough about me. how‘s it going with your handsome stranger?“ she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

your handsome stranger. right. because that‘s what he was. no matter that your heart went into overdrive whenever he‘d look at you, and no matter how much he’d made you feel seen and appreciated, you had to remind yourself that you couldn‘t really know someone after only two days. sharing only carefully selected pieces of your stories with each other didn‘t make you close.

"i mean he is really cute," you admitted with a shrug, “but you know i can‘t. i am ‘promised‘ to someone after all.“ there. you finally said it. the issue you‘d been trying so hard to forget.

"so what? it’s not like you’re dating that dude. heck, you don’t even know him yet. i wouldn’t call it cheating if you were to have something going on with jay.“

"i know but it just seems… so pointless. you know i don't do flings but it's not like i can go on dates with him either."

when you‘d come back home, you‘d likely be getting married to someone you didn‘t know and there was not much you could do about it. you wanted to say no, heck you‘d said no plenty of times already, but it was more complicated than that.

“y/n, you can always just refuse.“

“you know it‘s not that easy…“ you clenched your fists. if only you‘d been born into a different family. or maybe if you‘d actually adhered to their life plan, you wouldn‘t be in this mess right now at all.

ningning placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "i’m sorry, i do know. i promise we’ll find a way for you to take advantage of his fucked-up situation but can‘t you still have a little fun before shit goes down? a kiss or two won't be the end of the world."

bearing that in mind, you came to sit by the lake the next day, trying to steal sneaky glances at jay while you worked on your canvas.

he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clung to his toned frame, revealing muscular arms and broad shoulders. he had swept his hair back from his forehead, which highlighted his devilishly chiseled jawline and the intensity of his sharp eyes. every sane person would ogle at him, y/n, you told yourself. he was literally the dictionary definition of handsome and sexy, so of course you‘d stare. it was only natural. haha.

the majority of your afternoon was spent transferring your previous day‘s sketch onto the canvas and then painting over the delicate lines. jay kept you entertained, reading to you from his book, and discussing it with you.

while this might not have been a date it definitely felt like one. you read a lot of jane austen, for fuck‘s sake—you realized when something was romantic as hell. painting, reading, yapping, and all that with a hot guy. what a cruel joke. the universe seemed to have its fun taunting you, like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

do not be mistaken, you knew this wasn‘t love. something as silly as love at first sight did simply not exist, no matter what many of your favorite fanfics seemed to say. even suggesting you had a crush would be a crude exaggeration. but it was mutual attraction, that you were sure of, and it might have grown into something more, if not for the less-than-ideal circumstances.

what was strange was that after yesterday, jay seemed more restrained. after your little heart-to-heart, if you could even call it that, you‘d started noticing things. if you didn’t look away when his intense gaze fixed on you, you found something else there, lingering in the depths of his dark eyes. hesitancy. sadness. something that felt like… guilt?

you didn‘t know what it was, but this should‘ve been a relief. not that he was potentially struggling with something, of course, but if he‘d been flirting with you without restraint, you might have caved eventually, even though you knew it was wrong.

it was possible you might have just been misreading the signs. you had a more than vivid imagination, after all, which activated mostly in situations where more thinking wasn’t necessarily productive.

he might have just not liked the idea of getting too attached to someone he wasn‘t going to see again. with each stroke of your brush capturing the lake‘s incredible turquoise hue, you pondered whether to give him your phone number or not. the promise of a reunion might soften the unease in jay‘s eyes, you thought, but then again, would you even be able to keep it?

day four of your trip followed a similar pattern to the previous two. ningning and sunghoon ventured off on their own, though still lively “arguing“ with each other (they weren't fooling you), while you and jay walked down to the lake. talking and painting seemed to become your version of wining and dining.

that day, you had packed a second canvas, determined to teach jay the basics of painting.

“theory is important, but practice is where you bring it to life.“

you guided his shaky hands as he made his first stroke.

“start with broad strokes,“ you explained, demonstrating a sweeping motion. “don‘t worry about adding details yet.“

you kneeled behind him, arm draped around his shoulder for support as you leaned forward to place your hand over his.

he tried his best, but despite your brilliant guidance, his inexperience showed. years of looking into the theoretical aspects of art weren’t nearly enough to effectively apply all his knowledge in practice. he gained a newfound appreciation for painting after experiencing firsthand how challenging it could be. though he had to admit that you holding his hand so delicately was certainly distracting him as well.

if you hadn’t been so focused on keeping your racing heart under control, you might have picked up on the way he swallowed nervously.

on the fifth day, you managed to convince the group that your ankle was already much better.

you weren‘t exactly lying, but you weren’t being completely honest either. with rest, ice, and compression, the pain had improved significantly, but walking still wasn‘t as easy as you would‘ve liked.

the thing was, you just couldn‘t trust yourself around jay anymore. the urge to kiss him had completely spiraled out of control. it felt like what you imagined an omega would experience during their heat (not that you had any experience in that regard).

it was hard to keep up the facade of a calm, collected intellectual that was definitely not going insane over a man you’d met not even a week ago. to be fair, that facade had already started crumbling the moment you had outed yourself as a massive nerd, but still. this was worse.

showing him your drawings had been intimate enough, but then painting together—literally your own idea—the day before had been overwhelmingly, unbearably so. being so close to him, it had taken all your willpower not to seize him by his collar, pull him near, and passionately make out with him. but consent and having functioning brain cells were definitely more important, so you held yourself back—just barely.

his ridiculously charming smile, this sunkissed skin, his kind words—they had haunted you in your dreams that night. like okay, we get it. you want him. rein it in, cowboy.

so, for jay‘s own safety and also your sanity, you chose to endure the ache in your ankle as the group explored several towns surrounding lago di garda together.

for lunch, you grabbed fries from a booth and enjoyed them by the lakeside. that was until a seagull came swooping down with a squawk, startling you and causing you to drop your fries. ningning and you left the boys behind on the bench and hurried back to the stall for fresh, dirt-free fries.

"you still haven't kissed her?" sunghoon asked incredulously.

jay shook his head grimly. "i've already told you, i really shouldn't."

“but you want to?“ sunghoon pressed.

jay’s face contorted as if he were in pain. “yeah.“

"we‘re leaving in two days. if you want to kiss the girl, then kiss the girl, my dude. don‘t overthink it. it‘s not like you‘re pretending to be in love with her just to get your dick wet.“

"i didn‘t want to come here in the first place,“ jay said, choosing not to comment on sunghoon‘s blunt choice of words. “i wish i could take her out properly. buy her flowers. a kiss on the third date, if everything goes well and she likes me enough. not… whatever this is."

sunghoon seemed about to say more but quickly closed his mouth when he saw you and ningning approaching.

you stayed by ningning‘s side for most of the day, like a child hiding behind its mother, avoiding interacting with jay as much as possible. you could feel his eyes boring into your back as you walked ahead of him at a safe distance.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the sky that evening was a canvas painted with the most breathtaking array of colors, transitioning from deep oranges and fiery reds near the horizon to softer pinks and purples higher up. you had dinner back at the hotel and were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking wine.

“oh, just imagine what the lake must look like right now,“ you mused dreamily, resting your head on your hands.

"why don‘t you go and see for yourself?" asked ningning, busy playing sudoku on her phone.

"i don't want to walk back alone in the dark. unless," you draped an arm around her shoulder, "you want to come with me."

ningning chuckled as she removed your arm. "do you know how many blisters i have from all the walking i've been doing?“

"i could come with you," came the suggestion from jay. all heads turned to him. sunghoon smirked at his friend. had he finally grown some balls?

you hesitated. was this really a good idea? you‘d been avoiding him all day for a very good reason.

but the sunset was so exceptionally beautiful; it might not be like this again before you left! oh, you‘d be fine.

so the two of you began the descent down to the lake once more—though you maintained a respectful distance to your companion. the scene was more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined. the tranquil water of the lake mirrored the spectacular explosion of color in the sky. each ripple on the surface created by the evening breeze seemed to capture a fragment of the sunset, turning the water into a shimmering expanse of gold, pink, and lavender.

you were so entranced by the magical sunset that you momentarily forgot you were supposed to go absolutely feral for the man by your side.

it wasn‘t until the first stars began to twinkle faintly in the night sky, that you stopped walking along the shore taking pictures. the pebbles were cold against your skin as you settled down. siting there, you scrolled through the pictures you‘d taken, fireflies dancing around your heads as you admired what had just been lost to the horizon.

"back home, there is nothing nearly as pretty as this," you said softly.

"back home there is no one as pretty as you either."

you turned your head in surprise. now way you‘d heard him correctly. jay wore a serious expression, his gaze unwavering as he reached to cup your face, brushing a loose strand of hair to the side with his thumb. his eyes dropped to your lips.

“i know this is soon, but i’ll go insane if i don’t ask. can i kiss you?“

you blinked at him, your mind momentarily blank. there were things to be considered here but your brain did not seem to want to produce any thoughts, distracted by the sight of his plump lips and his soft touch. his thumb gently grazed your cheek.

"i only want to do this if you do too. i was trying to resist, but whenever i look at you, my heart starts pounding like crazy, and i keep on wondering if you taste just as sweet as you are."

"okay," you whispered against his lips, almost touching but not quite.

"i need a definite yes," he insisted.

"yes," you breathed out. "kiss me. please,” the last word came out almost pleadingly.

with that, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours. his movements were gentle, almost shy at first. jay moved his other hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately.

he let his forehead rest against yours, noses brushing against each other.

"wow," he breathed. you hummed in response, eyes still closed, trying to savor the moment.

you kissed him again, this time tangling your hands in jay's soft black strands while he let his wander down to respectfully rest on your waist. he responded to your kiss almost immediately, deepening it with much enthusiasm. lips parted and met with more vigor than before. the sounds that escaped your lips were all sorts of desperate as he caressed the soft curves of your body.

“finally, my omega is getting what it wants.“

you hadn‘t even realized you‘d said it until he pulled away, confusion in his eyes.

“what?“ he asked, still dazed from the kiss.

“oh, uh… have you ever heard of the omegaverse? a/b/o fics? well, how do i put it? humans are divided into alphas, betas, and omegas. and like omegas have these heat cycles, and when they go into heat, they need a lot of… um, GDDing or they‘ll go insane. good deep dicking? no? so, when they go into heat, they release all those pheromones which the alphas can smell and like they‘ll lose their minds if they don‘t do the GDDing immediately. and then there‘s knotting. that‘s when the alpha‘s penis swells and becomes engorged and then—“

“y/n,“ jay interrupted gently, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, “i love your ramblings, i really do, and i promise you can tell me all about it later if you’d like. but right now, there‘s something else we could be doing instead?“

you swallowed nervously. “right.“

your own inner omega in heat activated again as soon as he started nibbling on your lower lip. you clung to him desperately, afraid he might let go, eagerly chasing his lips the moment he pulled away even just a little. he tugged you closer, positioning you to straddle him, allowing for a more comfortable angle to kiss. your head was quiet for once, allowing you to simply enjoy the sensation of being touched.

with his mouth on yours and his hands clawing at your waist, you never wanted this moment to end. the heat between you intensified, the world fading into a distant background. every touch, every desperate caress fueled a fire within you, igniting a longing that was almost scary, so intense and foreign was it.

eventually, though, you had to part to catch your breaths. jay rubbed soothing circles on your back with one hand, holding your face in his other as he stared into your eyes, whispering sweet nothings.

there were so many things you wanted to say, but didn't. thoughts of your fiancé back home flooded your mind.

jay continued to whisper sweet nothings as he held you in his arms, but there was so much that was left unspoken between you.

you needed to tell him. maybe he‘d know what to do, how to make this work. not now though; it‘d only ruin this sweet moment. you‘d do it tomorrow.

when each other's bodies were no longer enough to keep you warm, you decided to return to the hotel. he held your hand as you walked up the winding path, each squeeze communicating unspoken words, a silent exchange of emotions.

he bid you goodnight, his lips grazing your forehead. you were left a blushing mess as you went to sleep. ningning's light snores accompanied you as you were gradually transported to dreamland.

"what do you mean they're gone? how can they just be gone? they weren‘t supposed to leave until tomorrow." ningning said, her voice tinged with disbelief. soobin gulped nervously.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know the details. it seemed like an emergency,“ he replied, conveying what little information he had.

gone. they had left without a word. you felt your chest tighten as the reality of their sudden disappearance set in. the abruptness of his departure felt like a slap, leaving a raw, aching void where his presence had been.

“jay did ask me to give you these, though.“ soobin handed you the little frog figurines jay had bought on the first day. a small note was stuck to the underside of the one that resembled you.

i am sorry, please do not hate me. thank you for everything. you truly are special.

ningning and you had no choice but to spend the remainder of your last day alone. sulking by the pool, you lamented the short time spent together. one more day wouldn‘t have been much, but they hadn‘t even left their numbers or any other way to contact them. it was like a punch to the gut, not only to you but to ningning as well.

you wondered if there really had been an emergency. maybe you‘d managed to scare him away with your omagaverse talk. “you truly are special,“ you muttered to yourself bitterly. he probably meant special as in a fucking lunatic. god, who talked about knotting in the middle of making out? at least you hadn‘t gotten to mpreg yet or he'd have bolted immediately.

the next day you boarded an early flight back to seoul. you held onto a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, your mother would at least be relieved you returned safely. any normal parent would be concerned when their child disappeared for a couple of days without a word. only you didn’t have normal parents.

instead of relief, you were greeted with cold fury as your mother watched you enter through the front door. she barely spoke a word, grinding her teeth as she commanded you to go to your room, treating you as if you weren‘t a grown adult.

your room was your sanctuary, your safe space amidst the chaos that was your family. four large shelves divided into regular novels and manga held your literary treasures alongside funko pops of your favorite fictional characters (lots of todoroki and sailor moon). there had been instances where your mother had tried to throw everything out, hell, she’d even torn up some of your books, but you refused to let that force you into submission.

in one last desperate attempt to escape your situation, you chopped off most of your hair. if your “fiancé“ was anything like your, and presumably his, parents then he might just straight up refuse to marry you the moment he‘d see you. you thought the short hair suited you, but people could be incredibly shallow in such matters. you hoped this was one of those times.

“what have you done?“ your mother‘s sharp tone was a mixture of disappointment and outrage. she paced back and forth, gesturing to the remnants of hair strewn across the bathroom floor. “you knew how important today was!“

your mother took a step forward, her face flushed with anger. “you never listen, do you?“ she barked, her voice trembling. “you never consider anyone but yourself.“

you squared your shoulders, meeting her gaze defiantly. “maybe i‘m tired of trying to please you, mother.“

"i‘m trying to protect our family‘s interests,” she retorted, “and sometimes that means making sacrifices for the greater good. this merger with their family‘s hotel chain is crucial for our future. can‘t you see that?“

no matter how you pleaded or reasoned, nothing could sway your mother. you understood how important this merger was to your family‘s business empire, and you weren‘t so ignorant that you couldn‘t acknowledge the potential benefits. yet, you didn‘t understand why you were the one who had to sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the family. one that had never cared about you, at that.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the restaurant picked out for this pivotal first meeting with the chosen family exuded opulence and refinement, its interior bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers that reflected off polished wood and marble accents. as you arrived, the other family was already seated at a table near a large window overlooking a serene garden.

the mother of your fiancé greeted yours with a firm handshake, her slender figure clad in a tailored designer suit and exquisite diamonds dangling from her ears. she stood up gracefully upon your entrance, obscuring your view to the man seated behind her.

"park jiyoung, meet y/n, my daughter,” your mother introduced, her tone awfully chippy. “unfortunately, there was an accident at the hairdresser‘s, so please excuse the hair. i‘m sure it will grow out soon.“

under mrs. park’s scrutinizing gaze, which rivaled your own mother’s, discomfort pierced you like a dagger.

"welcome, y/n, to our family. it's nice to finally meet you.“ the fake smile on her lips suggested she hadn’t yet quite approved of you as the most suitable match for her son.

“and this is the pride of our family, park jongseong. i believe you‘ve met."

she stepped to the side, revealing the man sitting behind her. he stood up and reluctantly stepped forward.

he was wearing a dark blue suit that elegantly emphasized his broad shoulders, while his neatly styled black hair gleamed under the soft chandelier lights. his eyes, dark and narrow, were cast downward toward the natural stone flooring. there, discreetly nestled against the skin of his neck, you saw a detail that momentarily froze time for you.

a heart-shaped birthmark.

memories flooded your mind — turquoise waters, steep mountainsides, fireflies swirling around your head, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. standing before you now as park jongseong, the man chosen to be your husband, was unmistakably your jay. the one who had kissed you and told you you were special.

the same jay now seemed less surprised than you felt. he avoided meeting your eyes, looking like a guilty puppy caught in the act, and a suspicion stirred within you that made your stomach churn. you felt sick. impossible, you thought. but looking at the man, no, the stranger in front of you, you weren‘t so sure.

his gaze darted around the room, landing everywhere but on you, as if unable to face the weight of your shared history and the unspoken questions hanging between you. every instinct in you yearned to reach out, to demand answers, to plead with him to acknowledge the bond that had once felt so real. yet, his avoidance spoke louder than words, filling the air with a painful silence that echoed the betrayal you felt.

had it all been just an act?

a/n: omg i love you sm if you made it to the end! reblogs, likes & feedback are always highly appreciated 🫶🏻 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ngl i hope y'all don't hate me for not making this a cute simple love story LMAOO i'm already working on a part 2

here are pictures of lago di tenno btw! i didn’t lie about the color

[never-obsolete]

Myst is designed to use the full capabilities of your computer. It is highly recommended that you do not use other programs (or keep other program windows open) while playing Myst. In addition, the performance of Myst may vary according to the capabilities of your CD-ROM drive (as well as your other hardware).

For Myst to function properly we recommend that Windows have a total of 10,000 KB of free memory.

-Myst readme

[simkaswriting]

What if…Eris had danced with y/n instead?

A/N- Hi hi! This is a one shot from a series I'm currently writing for acotar, if you're interested in reading about other beloved characters like Cas, Az, Mor, Rhys and Lucien and their own 'what if' moments, make sure to check back❤️

Dull. That was the only word coming to mind when Y/N surveyed the large, cavernous room. The inner circle was paying their supposed yearly visit to the Court of Nightmares, according to the little information Mor let slip at the dinner table last night. It was not the lack of decorations, or even the monotonous colours throughout the room, but rather it was the fae that were dull. Music echoed around them all, hundreds of males and females clad in varying shades of grey and black talking quietly amongst themselves as if unaware of the festive holiday they were gathered to celebrate, yet only a handful indulged in the compelling music. Y/N stood quietly on the far end of the unintentional line the inner circle formed around the two thrones, right next to quiet Elain, who in turn was leaning lightly against Feyre’s throne. It wasn’t like she tried to blend into the background the way the Azriel’s shadows allowed him to, or that she stood out like a sore thumb the way Elain did with her exuberant energy and bright eyes. Nor did she entice every male the way her eldest sister did with her fierce glare and head held high. No, Y/N was simply just there. Startling in beauty, ferocious in demeanour, and quite frankly a little disappointed at what the Court of Nightmares regarded as a party. Which is perhaps what piqued the red headed Autumn Court male’s attention. Y/N, just standing off to the side yet not seeming lonely, almost as if placing an invisible barrier between herself and the rest of her new family. He wondered why she stood there instead of dancing with some lowly scum like the eldest sister did, hanging off the brute’s arm, though he was almost certain nobody in this room would dare ask her for a dance. If only out of fear of aggravating the High Lord sitting a few feet away.

An hour goes by with minimal conversation between Y/N and Elain, and even then, the words dry out due to her sisters’ fear of drawing attention to themselves. Mouth dry and legs slightly stiff from her unmoving position next to her sisters, Y/N quietly walks over to the large table coated with an array of refreshments, in search of something stronger than water to help the time flow a little faster. Her eyes narrow in on a bottle of red wine, from the Summer Court if the writing is anything to go by. She reaches for the bottle, fully intending to keep it all to herself, when a cedar and cinnamon smell fills her nostrils.

“If I may, I’d suggest this wine, call it a personal favourite and a matter of good taste.” The voice is deep yet oddly soft, so very out of place in this pit of despair surrounding her. It’s as if the tone caresses her.

Stomach in knots, Y/N looks up at the male next to her, and fights back the gasp that surely would have escaped her if she didn’t know better. A tall male clad in hues of green and brown stands next to her, holding a bottle of white wine which looks comically small in his large hand. His height has her almost subconsciously take a step back, looming over her like a bad omen she’s sure he is. His face is sculpted as if by the Mother herself, though she can tell he isn’t just a pretty face to look at by the red scar barely visible under the collar of his shirt. No fae male in the Court of Nightmares on this festive day is just a pretty face. Yet it’s the male’s fiery red hair, bright as if fire itself courses through it, that has Y/N repressing the urge to marvel at it and reach out to run her hand through the fiery locks.

She schools her expression into one of calm indifference instead, perhaps a second too late, and glances at the bottle in the stranger’s hand. Autumn court wine. Her arm falls back to rest at her side, now fully facing the mysterious male, even if it drives her heartbeat crazy and floods her mind with static.

“Good taste would be finding yourself in better company on this joyous night.” She draws out the latter half of her sentence in mockery. Yes, the winter solstice is a time of mirth and expressing appreciation for your loved ones in Velaris, at least from the rare glimpses she’s managed to steal. However, the holiday loses its meaning in the Court of Nightmares. Surely the red head has better options than spending his time in this joyless pit of despondency, attempting to strike up a conversation with the forgotten Archeron sister?

A haughty chuckle comes from him as he sets the wine down on the banquet table and extends his hand, an inkling of a bow following.

“I was hoping you could be that company. May I have this dance?”

She studies his hand, eyes raking over the large surface of his palm and following the veins as they disappear below his tunic, throat growing a little dry. Unsure of why she should say no, especially since she can already feel the tediousness of the next few hours seeping in, Y/N accepts the strangers offer.

Y/N feels eyes burning holes in her, through her, a sour pit churning in her stomach. With a surprisingly gentle touch, the red head draws their bodies together, chest to chest, his hand coming to rest on her lower back, placing himself between her and the inquiring eyes of the inner circle, much to her relief.

Is it such an issue for Y/N to dance with another male? Was she expected to stand by her sisters and the Illyrian males doubling as bodyguards all night, bored to the stars, and counting down the minutes until they could winnow her back to the House of Wind? Nesta and Cassian were enjoying themselves, Feyre and Rhysand were enamoured with each other, and Azriel and Elain were engaged in quiet conversation. So, what is the problem with Y/N enjoying the harmless company of this mysterious, and not to mention breathtakingly beautiful, fae male?

Placing her hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand, large and calloused from centuries of experience she could probably never even begin to comprehend, Y/N looks up at the male.

“How do you find yourself in this cesspool of ingrates on such a beautiful holiday? Surely the Autumn Court would be more…” She pauses, weighing the words on her tongue before letting them slip on a cloud of playfulness to her surprise.

“…favourable.”

Eris guides the two of them in wide circles, knowing he needs not pay attention to the other fae around. Only fools with a death wish would so much as approach the red head and Archeron sister. As his fingers brush across the exposed skin of lower back, the low-cut fabric of her dress revealing enough to please his eyes and send sparks up his fingers at each contact with her, he wonders if her skin is flush to the touch from this nausea-inducing pit or perhaps his proximity.

He hums in approval. Of what exactly, he isn’t sure, coherent thoughts slowly slipping out of his reach.

“You are correct. Though it seems fate would have it that I come here tonight. And what a lovely stroke of luck that I find myself in your company.” He purrs, voice low enough just for her and only her to hear.

He watches heat creep up her exposed neck and settle on the tips of her newly pointed ears with the hint of a smile playing on his lips. And he can’t help but wonder if that truly is the case. If the reason he turned down the invitation to his families own festive ball had something to do with fate, destiny, perhaps the Mother. If the stars intended for the two of them to end up in each other’s paths, each other’s arms.

Voice soft, fighting to keep her eyes on the male’s face despite feeling like the floor may open up and swallow her whole, she asks “May I at least know the name of my dance partner?”

A mischievous, silently knowing smile tugs at the males’ lips as he glances over his dance partners head with ease. Y/N knows who the teasing look was meant for, her High Lord, Feyre’s mate. But as fleeting as the moment is, his bright eyes find themselves looking into hers again.

“Eris. Eris Vanserra, General of the Autumn Court forces. Future High Lord of the Autumn Court. If you’d like the specifics.” His voice flows over her, teasing tone setting in as he finishes his sentence. His eyes are playful, low, and amused, as if he was in on a joke she wasn’t, as if she was some innocent pawn in a game the male who just declared himself the future High Lord of the Autumn Court was engaged in with Rhysand.

She rakes her brain for that missing piece of information, that last piece of the puzzle to really place this male. But instead of finding it within herself, she follows his gaze, fleeting as it was, only to find a tight-lipped Morrigan with eyes set on Y/N, icy and reticent, Azriel’s hand discreetly hovering behind her. To protect or hold her back, she isn’t sure. The cloudy aura around the blonde, usually strikingly orange in its hue, borders on coal as the two of them exchange a knowing look.

And that last puzzle piece clicks. The male whose hands are sending shivers up her spine at their contact with the exposed skin of her back is the same male Morrigan was betrothed to, if Y/N can trust the little information Nesta let slip during one of her drunken tirades, shut down mercilessly by Cassian before she could reveal more. An easy feeling creeps up to (Y/N)’s chest. She didn’t need to know the full story of what occurred between the two fae to arrive at the conclusion that it wasn’t pleasant. And that accepting his invitation to dance with him, with Eris Vanserra, despite initially not being aware of who this male was, may cost her upon the inner circles return to Velaris.

But his gentle hold on her as he leads them around the room with feet skilled beyond her expectations makes her wonder if there was more to him, more to this interaction, than some ulterior motive. More than thrusting a red-hot iron poker at Morrigan’s trauma and showing Rhys and Feyre that their inner circle was not untouchable, unreachable, unbreachable.

As if sensing her growing discomfort, Eris manoeuvres the two of them across the large, cavernous room, past the dancing fae, away from the prying eyes of the inner circle and towards the music. A risky move, they both know, but despite her newfound hesitation, she can’t help but feel thankful. And not just for removing her from yet another unsettling situation she always seems to find herself in with her sisters’ new family. But for reaching out his hand, for grasping her attention, for making her feel seen and alive for the first time since she emerged from the Cauldron desperate for more.

“I don’t know if you’re brave or just plain foolish, Eris Vanserra.” Y/N quips, eyes set on the liquid-like amber ones looking down at her, unmoving, almost challenging.

He wouldn’t be the first or last to try lay claim on the fourth Archeron sister. To try find footing, a doorway into the inner circle. The elusive Night Court. Sometimes Y/N thinks her sisters got it easy. Mated practically right out of the Cauldron, to three brothers no less. They wouldn’t understand the pressure pulling her down each day, the feeling of being a bargaining chip in Rhysand’s pocket, a way to establish or strengthen alliances in the centuries to come. A precious and valued position to fill in all the High Lord’s eyes.

His eyes remain on hers, unflinching, lips slightly curving at the corner at her tone. Eris had heard the rumours. The three sisters of the High Lady of the Night Court, submerged in the elusive depths of the Cauldron, each gifted, each more beautiful than the other. Three sisters on lockdown in the Night Court, two mated. And he would be lying if he denied any ulterior motives, however his existing alliance with Rhysand was questionable but firm, his eventual succession as High Lord all but guaranteed. He had no real need to court the female in his arms. Though, being betrothed to any member of the High Lord and Lady’s family would be a good union for any male, however, betrothal to a mysteriously gifted sister of the first High Lady of Prythian would result in a more powerful union than any other in history. And despite this thought percolating every other thought in his mind, he can’t help but feel like the Mother was trying to play some cruel joke on him. Like she created this woman turned fae just for him, with the way her body feels pressed against his, each movement of her hair sending her scent directly to his nose and nearly buckling his knees. Her smaller hand in his, fingers intertwined with his like their grooves were made just for him. Her bright eyes on his, and he thinks, for the first time in his life, he wouldn’t mind looking into them until time ceased to matter.

“Why not both, dear?” His question is rhetorical in nature, and with heat creeping up her neck she wonders. Could this male truly be evil incarnate if he looked at her like he was ready to worship the ground she walked on?

Hand in his, she blindly follows his lead, never having favoured ballroom dancing the way her eldest sister did. However, she can’t help but find herself drawn to the stranger who has her on her toes. The music carries the two around the room, spinning, floating across the cold emanating from the chiselled stone of the behemoth mountain, eyes never leaving each other. His grip on her body is firm yet gentle, the fire in her very core growing, and she wonders if it has something to do with the male’s heritage or her own gift. The two glide around the large poor excuse for a ballroom with carelessness, lost in a trance, ending up near Rhysand’s and Feyre’s thrones. They can feel eyes on them, burning with questions, accusations, the latter originating from the Truth Speaker herself. But to them, time seems to be still rather than flowing. Their own little undisturbed bubble.

“I can sense it, smell it.” Rhysand whispers into the crook of Feyre’s neck, just below her ear, eyes on his mate’s sister and the heir to the Autumn Court. It was obvious to him, to his brothers and Mor, a sickening sight, one that only seemed to make sense to the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. Yet he wondered, with the cavern full of monstrous fae, how was the scent so permeating?

Feyre, chest heavy with disappointment but acceptance, nods. She can too. The tether between the two, the bond making itself known. And all she can do is watch as Eris dips her sister low, her hair grazing the ground, and places the ghost of a kiss to her throat.

A shockwave of pleasure washes over Y/N at the gentle pressure of his lips on her neck, the embers in her chest igniting and rising to a flame threatening to consume her whole. A tug in her chest, the fire she thinks, begs her to stay close, pull him back into her embrace and not let go. So, she follows her instinct and draws their bodies back together, closer this time, chests heaving against each other, her lips parted, and his eyes so focused on her he almost misses his own name spoken by Rhysand.

“Composure, Eris, please.” Rhysand purrs, examining his nails as if he hasn’t just witnessed the pairing in front of him all but seal their fate.

(Y/N)’s eyes widen. Not from fear or apprehension at the words of her sister’s mate. But rather from the crushing feeling of need weighing on her chest, need to be closer to this man she didn’t know existed before tonight, need to claw out Azriel’s eyes from the glare he’s throwing Eris, need to shield him with her own body from the threat she knows the inner circle poses.

Feeling the ripple in the air, the unmistakeable tug in his chest despite his unwavering fear of what it spells out for him, Eris gently lets go of her body, instead opting for placing a hand on her lower back, long fingers brushing out soft circles over the fabric of her black backless dress as he walks them the few steps it takes to stop at what he deems is an acceptable, safe, distance from Rhysand.

And before he can consider his words, really take in their weight and implications, they slip past his lips. “What do I need to do for her hand in marriage?”

Of course, Eris suspects the hold Rhysand possesses on all his inner circle members. But judging by the disdain in Y/N’s eyes he observed from the moment they arrived to the moment he approached her, Rhysand wasn’t too interested in this particular Archeron sister. Eris was intelligent, well versed in courtly socialite behaviours. He knew of the hoops he needed to jump through, pleasantries to exchange, even if they did not matter. He only really needed the confirmation from one fae, and it was the one his blood raced for, the fire within him craved.

“The choice is Y/N’s, of course.” Feyre chimes in, sharp eyes focused on her sister as she takes in the scene before her. Y/N’s look bordering on feral, fists clenched at her side, jaw rigid. And in her mind, Rhysand’s chuckle echoes, because she may not yet realise the obvious spark in the air.

The illusion of freedom Rhysand and Feyre paint is laughable, Y/N thinks. She always knew her sister to be cunning, and her mate turning out to be Rhysand was something nobody ever questioned, for all the right reasons. Two peas in a metaphorically corrupt pod. She swallows the hate threatening to spew through her clenched jaw, her heart threatening to break her ribcage if it beat any faster at the words of the male next to her. She knew of the courtly games, had been living their nightmare from the moment the cauldron let her take and take and still gifted her with more, knew his words were really just a necessity. And, with bone chilling horror, realized that the entirety of the Court of Nightmares was gawking at them. But the steady and reassuring hand on her back brings her to reality.

Head held high, knowing if she is to accept Eris’s proposal she will become a significant pawn in Rhysand’s game, she thinks that it would all be worth it if she gets to fall asleep in the arms of the stranger who somehow found the sliver of life left in her and pulled it to the surface. She feels, deep down, that marriage will be just a formality for whatever connection she’s feeling between the two of them. His question isn’t something she has to ponder over.

“Yes.” Her voice echoes around the cavern, loud and clear and heard by all.

She doesn’t miss the slight smirk on Rhysand’s lips, the kind look in Feyre’s eyes, the betrayal laced with defeated understanding on Mor’s face. Y/N knows the fiery haired male is on shaky terms with the inner circle at best, for reasons she hopes to understand, but some innate part of her feels whatever grievances will be aired, she will not be moved from his side.

“Congratulations, lovely Y/N. May this union be blessed by the Mother.” Rhysand hums, voice low, double-edged sword that is his tongue savouring the moment. As his eyes meet the amber of the eldest Vanserra brother, he can’t help but grin, because he knows. Eris knows that that hum in the air is, that fire in his chest. Reigning in his smirk, Rhysand sends a quick prayer to the Mother, thinking that Eris may need it if he is to survive by Y/N’s side.

Y/N lightly bows her head, an inch, just enough to show her gratitude for the sake of the onlookers. And before any other fae has the opportunity to pluck up the courage and approach the newly engaged pair, Eris is already gently leading her to the edge of the grand hall, hand still on her back.

“How would you like to sample some of that Autumn Court wine in your new home, my dear (Y/N)?” Eris purrs, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. And the scent that permeates his nose, one of want and need and anticipation, is the only answer he needs as the shadows grow around the two. As the pair winnows, she thinks that perhaps the festivities will be more joyful next year with Eris by her side.  

[bookmothic-dyke]

I’m just gonna turn my ideal body into a playable people group in my TTRPG. No one can stop me. (Though in a broader sense… they’re just otherkin/therians who manifest physical body aspects)

Fetchlings.

Anomaly 0001 - C

Those born with the souls of other kinds.

They appear as typical humans, until some point in adulthood or adolescence if exposed to the myst. For a Fetchling always becomes a Winnower then. They will undergo a metamorphosis. A molt. An act repeated upon every change in Gnosis. As they reach further in Gnosis their body changes to become progressively, though gradually, less human, in turn with their very souls. Manifesting their alterhuman natures.

Fetchlings vary wildly, resembling any number of cryptids and beasts (and even automata) to which a Fetchling may call kin. Though some shared traits are pointed fangs and ears, twin tongues, digitigrade feet, black sclera, and some amount of insecoid traits (often partially to fully carapaced limbs included).

Other traits such as (but not limited to) limb number, fur and scales, size, wings, tails, eye number, skin composition, and horns do vary. Alongside pigmentation and patterns.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Hi Caro 🥰 would you be willing to do a top five ranking for 1. Top Five best love/sex scene writers for romance and 2. Top five best love/sex scene writers for specifically historical romance?

Hi! Of course I would, my filter is liberal and I love talking about sex scenes so much.

So generally speaking, I think the top 5 for me would be:

Sierra Simone--just the queen; she writes so many different types of sex scenes so well; monogamous, polyamorous, f/f, m/m, m/f, any combination of the above. The scenes feel varied and unique; there is a vast difference between the intense but also kind of funny sex you'll read in The Last Crimes of Peregrine Hind versus the weird, dark-yet-hot orgy scene in A Lesson in Thorns. Even the types of domination and give and take are different. Like, both Lesson and New Camelot feature an m/m/f dynamic, but the way Auden conducts himself as a dom is so different from the way Ash does. And the way Poe and St. Sebatian submit shares so few similarities with Greer and Embry's submission to Ash. She's amazing.

Joanna Shupe/Mila Finelli--there is obviously a big difference between the way she writes sex scenes as Joanna versus Mila (I would say that even the pretty intense sex in Joanna's self-published novellas isn't quite as high octane as what she writes as Mila). But either way, I think she manages to make the sex feel unique to the couples, and she makes it very interesting and at times funny. Like, even when characters are having rough sex, there's an element of humor to it when appropriate; like the scene in Mafia Madman when Enzo has Gia chained to his bed spread eagle and is fingerbanging her while his employees work on renovations in the same room, lol.

Tiffany Reisz--I think a lot of Tiffany's work straddles the line between romance and erotica, and I'm including her because like... she can write a really dark scene that does not express love in the way I imagine a lot of people see it, while still conveying the love. I mean, she wrote a Catholic priest who's an actual sadist and literally cannot get it up without inflicting pain... But I still found him very compelling and completely believe the love he feels for his lovers. Does she go too far sometimes? Yeah. But when she hits, I think she hits very well and Tiffany at her best is provocative while also creating this amazing emotional connection between the characters.

Kresley Cole--writes some of the most insane paranormal sex scenes (blood blowjobs, fucking on an altar in the jungle, heroes literally hulking out during sex) while somehow keeping you in touch with the romantic connection between the leads? Her non-PNR sex scenes are just as good. I just enjoy her creativity and total commitment to the cause. Like, I still think of her kicking IAD off with things like... Nikolai commanding Myst to come while holding her magic chain, and Lachlain chasing Emma through the woods in full beast mode to deflower her, lol.

Adriana Anders--I've only read one of her books thus far (oops) but Possession really blew me away in terms of sex scenes. Not just in terms of the kink involved (I mean, there's a consensual kidnapping) but in terms of the total acceptance of kinks and different means of sexual expression. You can feel the love and respecting for that world in her writing.

Historical-specific:

Joanna Shupe--all the same reasons as before, but I also feel like Joanna does a great job with writing sex scenes that are more inventive for trad historicals. I loved Lockwood being into rough sex, and this being treated as valid and not abusive. It feels like a lot of trad heroes have to apologize away even super light kinks to satisfy readers.

Grace Callaway--Super explicit and creative, with a focus on acts that aren't super common in historicals (butt stuff). I enjoy the kink positivity and normalization of like... the sexually voracious heroine. She writes with humor AND heat.

Elizabeth Hoyt--The icon. I love the individualized distinctions in her sex scenes, her commitment to writing sex in uncomfortable places (like death row) and the general earthiness with which she writes. It's very evocative.

Scarlett Peckham--Scarlett explicitly explores kink in her books, and writes a rarely truly submissive historical romance hero (it's not just "let her ride me" it's "thank you mistress may I have another"). At the same time, she also writes great dominant heroes. Her most recent book allowed the hero and heroine to have a random threesome with a buddy in the middle of the book. I so appreciate that approach.

Cat Sebastian--Cat's sex scenes aren't always as explicit as the above authors' (they kind of vary) but they're interesting and creative. Even when the pairing is m/f, they are not always straightforward heteronormative scenes in terms of their dynamics and preferences. She thinks outside the box.

[miloscat]

[Review] Syberia (PS2)

A graphic adventure, emphasis on the graphics.

Another pick from my monthly retro game club, Syberia is a game I only knew by reputation. While it was developed by Microïds' Canadian division, it was creatively spearheaded by the Belgian comic artist Benoît Sokal who instilled some unique flavours into it. Exploring some similar territory to his earlier game Amerzone, this is a point and click adventure set in a slightly askew version of Europe.

To spare my wrist from pointing and clicking, I opted for the contemporary PS2 port, which has you directly controlling protagonist Kate Walker with the analogue stick, with interactable hotspots getting highlighted as you pass them. Unfortunately the lower resolution does a slight disservice to the visual design of this game, although not as drastically as the DS conversion (which bizarrely, the later ports were based on, I've been told).

The game makes heavy use of prerendered backdrops to depict the melancholic locales, with some clever FMV insets for motion, and 3D models layered on top only for the sparse few characters. It's all in service of building Sokal's imaginative world, a world of faded glory populated by eccentrics, all touched by Hans Voralberg, the object of Walker's quest. Her mundane task of finalising a contract for the sale of a factory transforming into an unexpected steampunk adventure is ripe for drama, although the game doesn't capitalise on it as well as it could have.

Kate's personal journey is supposed to be along the lines of a buttoned-up lawyer being challenged to embrace the passions of life, but this only vaguely bubbles along in the background so she just ends up coming off as rather bland. Occasional phone calls home are meant to flesh out her arc, but they only served to make me annoyed at her shouty boss, shallow friend, overbearing mother, and worst of all her nagging, whiny fiancé. On the other hand, Kate's companion on her trip is the clockwork automaton Oscar, a standout character who mechanically exhibits a soulful blend of fussy and sassy.

But the story really revolves around Hans, the savant syndrome genius inventor. His influence is felt at each of the stops in your journey, where you talk with those whose lives he has touched, and try to tinker with the mechanical marvels he left behind. His intricate clockwork creations have been integrated in the sleepy French village of Valadilene, the majestic Barrockstadt university, the ex-Soviet industrial wasteland of Komkolzgrad, and the Eastern European hotel at Aralbad. Truly the locations are the star of the game, each seemingly stuck in a bubble of the past, the rich detail making them feel real even through an aura of the surreal.

These places do get let down somewhat by often muted colour palettes, although arguably that ties into the theme of decline that permeates each. A bigger issue is the awkwardness of navigating them, with sometimes unclear traversal options, not to mention the pause between each flip screen as the next one loads. Sometimes the direction you're facing is completely inverted as you move between screens, such that your continued move input turns you around and may even move you straight back. I suppose this is a problem unique to joypad controls... Kate also gets around very slowly (even with the run button), and goes through laborious animations to line herself up with interactables, so the pace of gameplay can feel plodding.

Broader pacing issues are present to varying degrees. The first two chapters in particular have quite drawn-out and convoluted sequences of puzzles and fetch quests. It never gets as challenging as Myst or obtuse as Starship Titanic (two other adventure games I've played with a similar sense of style and prerendered graphics), so I never struggled too much but an occasional nudge from a guide was needed when I failed to see eye to eye with the designers. Dialogue scenes also slow things down with overly wordy prose that you have to comb relevant details out of.

So there's some flaws, but my biggest issue was with the scope of the game. It just doesn't tell a complete story, ending rather abruptly as Kate meets Hans in a location you've already been to. It feels like the decision to split the story up into two games left this one without a satisfying conclusion. Hans' (and the game's) mammoth fixation and the driving motivation to get to Syberia are utterly unpaid-off; Oscar doesn't even get to meet his creator before the game ends, despite that being brought up numerous times! It's simply half a game, and from what I've read the sequel has its own problems with failing to make Kate a compelling protagonist after completing what passes for her character arc, among other things.

But you know, no game is perfect. I still think there's a lot to love in Syberia. The atmosphere is thick and there's always striking visual design waiting around the next corner. Every location feels distinct and fascinating, and each has memorable characters and setpieces. It brings up some interesting ideas, even if it doesn't quite grapple with them as much as I wanted it to. If anything it makes me curious about Sokal's comics, although from a quick look I'm not sure any of them have been published in English! Sacre bleu!

[mortuarywriting]

📚 🧚‍♀️ Just one or both if you'd like 👉👈

I can do both!! These were super neat to think on!! the second one is absolutely why this gets a read more. I went off the shits. So sorry about that.

📚 how do you come up with the fics you write

Hmmm sometimes it's seeing the right prompt, sometimes its seeing ideas being tossed around and thinking on it, sometimes its taking the canon and seeing how a seemingly small but significant shift would impact it and how that would domino effect! I love playing with worldbuilding sandboxes so much that sometimes the fics themselves fall to the wayside ">>

🧚‍♀️ favorite characters of all time

OUGH this is such a hard one!! How do you choose a favorite child!! I'll scoop from the top and be read for filth for it I think but. Worth it i think. Anyway you get them alphabetically

Auron - Final Fantasy X

This is it. This is your story. It all begins here.

I. boy I am really not immune to Dark Knights in the FF franchise the more I think about it but! Auron has always been such a good character and I associate him so much with a song I LOVE... Auron is just one of my favorite companions, I love the insight he brings and how he was a Guardian for Yuna's Father as well as her. He's also one of Two Nickels I realize I'd have for Dark Knights in Final Fantasy Game who [REDACTED].

Death - Darksiders 2

All who live know my name, all who oppose me shall know Death.

Caaan't find a decent pic of him and I don't really wanna go and redownload the whole game for screenshot purposes yet. Aywho-

Darksiders 2 is all about Death, the oldest of the Nephilim/Horsemen of the Apocalypse proving the innocence of his brother War (seen lower in the list) for the crime of allegedly starting the Apocalypse early. Between this game and the Abomination Vault book preceding any of the games I really appreciate these two, Death being a ridiculously smart but also an apathetic asshole who only cares for a small handful, plays things close to his chest... He's a neat character and I appreciate just how far ahead he seems to plan and the lengths he'll go to make sure it all goes as he wants it to. Metal as hell.

Because War has his I also have to show Death's horse so this is Despair

And this is his Reaper Form

Fray Myste - Final Fantasy XIV

Bastard of the Brume, Fray was taken in by Ser Ompagne and became trained in becoming a Dark Knight with Sidurgu. By the time we meet them Ompagne is long dead, and Fray has just been defeated in a duel.

We find Fray, pick up the Dark Knight Soul crystal from where it had fallen beside him, and he becomes your mentor upon your waking up. You touched something that would hurt yourself and others along the way and BOY HOWDY does he have excellent threats of violence. Will follow you around on your job quests and heal you while you're being a dumb tank. He writes your quest journal entries and is such a sassy bloodthirsty shit

Fray is the other of the Two Nickels I realize I'd have for Dark Knights in Final Fantasy Game who [REDACTED].

Jarlaxle Baenre - Forgotten Realms

I am Jarlaxle. I have been everywhere.

Lets start with Jarlaxle was born the third son of the Highest House in Menzoberranzan- a city where the houses are constantly trying to kill the house ahead of them for status and do so to not get caught, their goddess Lolth favoring those who get away with no evidence to damn themselves. To that end there's a firm rule enforced by Lolth- every third son is to be sacrificed to her- two male children are expendable and acceptable but any further are sacrificed after birth.

Jarlaxle's mother, ruler of the highest house and having kept that seat for Ages, went to acquiesce with that upon Jarlaxle's birth.

Lolth told her no. Jarlaxle was to live, he was too interesting.

He has since made this an everyone else problem. Man has connections in the underdark and surface, everything he wears is in some form enchanted, he's proficient with just about everything, and he is so fascinated with various things and just wants to see what happens next and how it can help him get ahead. I love him. I wanna study him under a microscope. Every character that's been in a campaign he's turned up in has vibe checked him and decided they want out of the room right now immediately. Most notably my dude who was sometimes part moose said "I'd like to leave, actually"

Urick - Drakengard 2

A masked man who lives a life haunted by the curse of death. Three years ago, after a tragic incident, he made a pact with the Reaper, although the price he paid for this pact is unknown. At first glance he appears to be a carefree, lively character who could never bear a grudge. However, on rare occasions, his jovial facade can't quite conceal the truth...

To preface the significance of this-

A Pact, also known as a Contract (契約 Keiyaku?) in the Japanese version, is a contract system in the world of Drakengard between a human (or other humanoid race) and a beast. By merging their souls together, the human gains supernatural powers, and both participants gain a second chance in life should either or both be close to death. The human must pay some price for the pact, and if one should be fatally injured, it means death for both unless the pact is broken. Beings who have formed a pact with each other are referred to as "pact-partners".

Urik's pact is his mortality. Straight up he does not have a heart in his chest anymore. He's just a generally chill guy and while I haven't gone through Drakengard 2 in years (thanks playstation for 0 drakengard or drakengard 2 rep) I remember him fondly. I forgot how much I loved him and that his wiki trivia describes him as "Urick is good at playing dead." The game quote they chose for him is "Just because you can't make any friends, doesn't mean you should take it out on the rest of us" which is what he says as he's about to save your character's life.

plus lookit this smile

War - Darksiders

You can look me in the eye when I kill you.

Darksiders is a game about oops, the apocalypse started on earth! Heaven and Hell start duking it out in the streets and humanity suffers for it. Humans die out, earth is in ruins, and all of it is conveniently laid at the feet of War - youngest of the Four Horsemen who has gotten in trouble for fighting with humanity before (please see left arm being fuckoff huge gauntlet. That's a prosthetic. Death cut his arm off for that bullshit in the comics).

Now, War is a man of his word and high code of honor- he said he'd leave humans be and he did. He's been framed and the Council- those in charge of keeping the balance and the bosses of the Horsemen- gives him a shot to prove his innocence and find the actual culprits with a Watcher keeping tabs and reporting back.

This is his horse, Ruin

This is his Chaos Form

War is voiced by Liam O'Brian and the Watcher is voiced by Mark Hamill. so that's fun. Samael in game could also get it but that does not a fav make.

Also fun lore fact: all the horsemen's horses are the same species. The horse just reflects the rider once they've bonded. Fun magic shit.

[flojocabron]

02/29/24: I had a most awesome leapday shopping for stuff today! Drove to Yuma Arizona and hit up my usual spots. But before heading that way, i first went to my closet Salvation army store. For $5.00, I found an unopened copy of myst on PC and a kids yokaiwatch. I then drove fifty minutes away to start my main trip. Goodwill was okay. I found some clothes and a hardback marvel #comic. Also some new movies. doompatrol and brucelee dvds! At one pawnshop I found a sealed bluray of Preacher for $4.00 and at another pawnshop, I found xbox games. $16.00 bucks for four of them and since evilwithin was a bit scratched up, I got it for free. I went to the three walmarts in the area. They had quite a bit of clearance videogames, but nothing I haven't seen or bought already. Hopefully it will drop more soon. calistoprotocol was $10 as well as ghosbusters spirits unleashed and sonic origins plus was $20. Most likely its new lower price. And I got a varied selection of gamestop games too. From two stores, those in the pic. With the most expensive being the diofield chronicle for $20. A fun day of exciting finds for me!

[eorzeanflowers]

May the Christmas season go quickly for you. In the meantime do any of your OCs care for Starlight Celebration or any holiday season at all? All Saint's Wake? Moonfire Faire? Little Ladies' Day?

Ty @voidsentprinces!

Pretty much all of my flowers enjoy the Eorzean holidays. To varying degrees of course.

Lily is partial to heavensturn, as it originates from her homeland.

A’tyla and Yasha are both enjoyed of Little Ladies’ day, as the festival started in their home city state. (And they both went thru a little Princess phase, Yasha’s being much later however)

Tatiava and Eulanne adore All Saints Wake, Tati for the spooks, Eulanne for the void sent company. (Eulanne feels less of a monster around true voidsent.) (Jana is very confused why the city states allow voidsent to be about freely, but she hasn’t attacked any since her incident the first time it rolled around.)

Jana, Beat and Mai enjoy the moonfire faire, as the summer breeze and beach fun is a delight. (Beat and Mai use it as an excuse to visit Limsa every year, as technically they are wanted by the Yellowjackets for unlawful piracy years back. Not that it is really enforced anymore, but you know.)

Benoit and Lhei don’t take part in holiday celebrations much, Benoit because of his lamentations (and spoilery things I’m working on for his revamp) and Lhei gets too lost in her work to notice the holidays happening.

A’tyla gets the most into the gift giving of Starlight, whereas Yasha and Tati spend time with their partners enjoying the cheer.

Marisol is neutral to the holidays. She will gladly take part in them, but she is always hunting for new experiences. The L’Rae twins are also neutral, tho Deta does try to celebrate some of the holidays of their shard with Pola. Myste will happily share in the celebrations, but does not actively seek them out. Whereas the Archeologist enjoys every holiday equally, seeing them with fondness of an adult watching their kids grow up. (She’s a bit older than most of the celebrations.

Hatchingtide isn’t beloved or beloathed by any of my characters. It kinda just happens.

[gigifujijifu]

Vari's CMYK PCT glam :D

[thatonedud]

Guardians

A lone soldier finds refuge in the tattered remains of a home. He didn't know the owner - hopefully they wouldn't mind if he hid here. Not that there was anything much left to mind. Through a gaping hole in the south wall, he could see sunlight and blood and carnage, as the battle he just escaped continued without his presence along the countryside. -It happened in an instant - the looming shade consuming what light shone through the twin suns blessing. Guns and swords stopped altogether, except for the periodic quaking of the ground announcing the arrival of something more. The soldier didn't dare peek from his sanctuary, but he wouldn't need to. An impossibly large insectoid leg impacted the land directly in front of the house. It was as wide as the house itself, the impact enough to knock the soldier to his back. Another leg appeared, and another. Finally, he could see it. The giant as tall as the mountains that boxed this place in. A god had decided to cross the battlefield.

Guardians existed long before records were fully kept and were worshipped even longer before that. These kaiju beasts were worshipped by the original residents of Myst, continuing to be the dominant religion past the arrival of the Fallen. There was something holy about these great insect-like wonders. Guardians tend to wander about the planet with goals enigmatic. These giant's care for mortals typically varies based on which one you are dealing with. Most are either uncaring or blind to other life, however, some have been known to be invested in their followers (especially the entities such as Nemelah, Ikeemesh, and Ienthys). The most well known, most mindful, and believed to be the most powerful of the Guardians are known as the Greater Guardians, a pantheon of 7 (now 6). This includes Tritaan, Ka'et, Crish, Nemelah, Creevus, Karsaliak, and the banished Odeshava. There are innumerable more Lesser Guardians.

The majority of Guardians do not intentionally wish harm on smaller lifeforms, but over the years, it has become apparent that it is their fate. It started with some of the Lesser Guardians, a sudden change in instinct or personality. They became erratic and destructive with intention. It was like they woke up to everything. Maybe it was pain. Maybe it was a building anger finally released. Regardless, whenever this happened, other Guardians would put it out of its calamitous misery. It began to be called "Guardian Psychosis" as it continued to happen, slowly, over the course of hundreds of years to other Lesser Guardians. Then the worst came to pass. A Greater Guardian became infected with it - Odeshava. This escalated into what is now known as the War of the Sea or The Great Guardian War, resulting in widespread chaos as the Greater Guardians battled against Odeshava. Eventually, the fallen god was put to rest below the ocean. This event, Guardian Psychosis, and the arrival of the Planars have all contributed to the slow decline in Guardian worship. This has left the Guardians as mere wandering ancients. As relics of a dying period.

[mothshrub]

Someday I want to write an entire essay about the very specific flavor of steampunk that this game has. Because so much of this fucking machinery is steam based, and the way it leans into the extremely sensorial experience of being around so much heavy machinery is absolutely fascinating, both in the viewer's relationship to the environment and to the devices and also when compared and contrasted to the sepia-toned, aesthetic driven relationship that a lot of steampunk otherwise generally has. Like--I'm vaguely reminded of some of the differences some scifi nerds will compare and contrast between Star Wars and Star Trek's handling of technology.

Of course, one important distinction might be that maybe this shouldn't be called steampunk, but instead some other weird category entirely. Both Steampunk and whatever Myst does are images of quaint, strange, and unfamiliar technology seen through the eyes of 20th/21st century fans, but Myst seems to embrace varying times of 20th century industry chique, whereas steampunk as a genre looks further back, even going into previous centuries.

[plebeiangoth]

New controversial opinion: I don't understand gaming on a Macintosh.

This is coming from a long-time Mac devotee, though they've lost me in recent years. The thing about PC gaming that's so great is how customizable it is. Macs are just simply not that. Gaming on one has always felt like it has the limitations of a game console, only it's a console not intended for gaming. Granted in the 90's there were some Mac exclusive games that ranged from quaint/interesting-iconic that I loved, examples being Squirrel Kombat (quaint) and MYST (massively iconic and has since been ported to nearly everything which can play Doom). Mac gaming has never not felt like a novelty in this way. Have you ever tried playing a triple-A release on a Mac? Results vary drastically, and you have no control over which processor or video card is used, and last I checked many models even started soldering the RAM. I frigging hate having to get my hands into Mac guts to fix them because it inevitably means calling customer support, or more likely an aPpLe CeRtIfIeD tEcHnIcIaN (should get me one of them certs).

Not to mention that Apple products are and always have been super expensive! You can whack together a budget gaming PC on your own for like $500-1000 (graphics cards willing) and play WAY more games far more reliably than most Macs can.

Anyway this rant comes from the news that Death Stranding is being ported to Mac and Kojima's creaming his jeans over it. Like… the amount of work that I put into my PC to make DS run without crashing, and they're putting it ln Mac… I'm having flashbacks to trying to run Team Fortress 2 on my dad's Mac about 10 years ago… it ran, but the framerate was almost unplayably unstable and the files were super bloated.

Anyway I'm gonna get coffee. I know I shouldn't rant about things before coffee, but too bad this one was irritating me.

[kitkatt0430]

Do you know where I can find a following for my niche fandom?

Honestly i don't know that I'll be a lot of help on this topic. I don't use much in the way of social media beyond Tumblr. And here you just kind of have to put together what you think the most relevant tags for your fandom are and then check to see if the tag search gets you any hits.

Or use the google search trick of searching the tag + tumblr.com

You also have to keep in mind that character tags are going to see a lot of crossover between fandoms. Even fandom names may have cross contamination between fandoms. "Riven: The Sequel to Myst", for example, is pretty straightforward tag wise. You're really only going to see posts about the game Riven tagged this way. But a lot of people who have played the game don't use the full name. It's just "Riven". And they'll tag it as such. But "Riven" is also the name of a character in another fandom, so searching the "Riven" tag for posts about the game is also going to get posts about the unrelated character. Khione from the Flash also shares her name with characters from other fandoms, so the tag "Khione" has several different characters all grouped together. But not a lot of people who discuss Khione specifically from the Flash remember to use the "Khione (The Flash)" or "Khione [The Flash]" tags

So basically you're going to have to be patient and diligent and check through a lot of tag permutations that may or may not be populated from equally valid uses from other fandoms.

I don't really know much about discord beyond that using it tends to make me really anxious in a way that forums don't, so I honestly don't know how easy it is to find fandom spaces there.

Reddit might actually be useful here, it can serve as a gateway to fandom spaces. But it's very hit or miss.

Older fandoms may still have a presence on LiveJournal though a lot of those have migrated to Dreamwidth or Tumblr over the years. Pillowfort's a good tumblr alternative as well.

Older fandoms are also more likely to have a presence on older fanfic sites. Squidge - including the SquidgeWorld fanfic site - is older than Ao3 and is associated with a number of older fandoms. Fanfiction.net may be slowly falling apart but it has a huge repository of fic still that goes back several decades at this point. adult-fanfiction.org is still hanging around, though that one does cater more heavily towards R/NC-17 rated fics hence the 'adult' specified in the name and it will ask you if you're 18+ or not to view the site. And of course Ao3 itself is constantly absorbing new niche fanfic sites of varying ages in order to preserve the fandom history those sites and their fanfics represent.

But sometimes you just have to see where googling the fandom name + "fandom" will take you. And sometimes you have to be willing to be the first person to post a fic for the fandom on Ao3, or post a fic to a mostly dead fandom, and hope that someone else in the fandom will see it and choose to comment. Or start posting rambly meta commentary on places like tumblr and hope the tags attract the fellow fans you're hoping for. Though that last one might generate enough interest from your mutuals or followers that a few of them might check out the source material and wind up sucked into the fandom with you.