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#Alice and the Wonderland Gang
kirokochi · 2 years
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my last braincell
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wheelercore · 1 year
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Holly in the characteristic white + soft pink outfit while making her white rabbit on front of the mantle/urn... Oh yeah I can make this about rosegate
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I'm dumb as a rock like it took me a whole 3 months and then some to realize Crewel comes from the Queendom of Roses because he's British coded.
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i think alice kane and killer frost should kiss
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origamiyoda · 2 years
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maybe I should just give in and start drawing a webcomic.
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bindeds · 2 months
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⋆。 °⛧ Willy Wonka headcanons ! 🖇️✩ ₊˚
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gif is by @thisgameissonintendo <3
do lmk if you’d like more posts like this!! I’m planning to write a wonka fic soon so stay tuned ;)
requests are open ! mlist. wonka nsfw hcs.
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he’s good at lockpicking & pickpocketing, so he’d make a very good thief but he doesn’t do it because he knows he was taught better by his mother and he doesn’t want to disappoint her
he is only a workaholic when it comes to his chocolate. This man would find the easiest and fastest possible way to do most other tasks
one of the only tasks that are an exemption of the above are clothing. He’s particular in what he wears, not that he has high standards but he wants to dress unapologetically like himself, and that includes deep shades of purple, red and pink for his overcoats, and more mute colors for anything below that
LOVES to read now that he can. He often visits the library and even started a mini book club with Noodle and the rest of the gang (Piper, Larry, Abacus and Lottie) but they assign themselves more than one book per month sometimes because the rest are not as fast to read books as the two of them
He is IN LOVE with Alice in Wonderland, especially the Mad Hatter.
He loves poetry too, and learned how to write his own pretty quickly and always reads it out to Noodle when he writes new poems
his guilty pleasure for books is definitely romance. He likes the thought of devoting yourself to one person, because he knows how it feels like to devote himself to chocolate, and imagining a whole other person to share everything with just fills him with so much hope and light.
this man smells just like vanilla and chocolate, and he wants to keep it that way so he learned to make his own perfume that has the unique smell of his own chocolate (this headcanon partially inspired by this fic! I love the writer sm)
definitely looks up and says ‘sorry mama,’ if he does something questionable, even if he has good intentions
unaware of ‘gender norms’ because he lived by a river with his mother as a child then stayed on sea for seven years with roughly the same group of people, so those things weren’t imposed on him especially since he was mostly raised by only his mother.
following the headcanon above, he knows both the female and male parts of the waltz and other ballroom dances and has no problem wearing skirts or dresses (though prefers pants because he’s used to wearing them and it’s easier to move around in)
and because he was raised with only a small group of people around him almost his whole life, he lives life ‘unfiltered’ which is why he is seen as eccentric and wild, because his mother found it endearing and the boat crew saw how brilliant he was and never told him to ‘tone it down.’
loves shopping with Noodle, and they have an especially good time trying out clothes together
if the Barbie movie came out around the same area and time period, him and Noodle would have definitely dressed in all pink and only Wonka would have bawled his eyes out while Noodle begrudgingly consoles him
definitely goes back out to sea for a whole month once a year, and with the same crew he was first seen with in the beginning of the film. He misses them dearly, and always shares his chocolate with them free of charge
this man has chocolates for everything—chocolates to sleep better, chocolates to enhance focus and even chocolates to calm down (either from panic attacks or intense emotions like anger)
he probably even sells chocolates with vitamins inside, mostly also for children who don’t remember or don’t want to take their vitamins, but he was careful not to make it too good so they won’t take more than the necessary daily amount
he learned to cook after the events of the movie, finding that knowledge in that area would help enhance his skill in chocolate-making. He’s good, but of course he’s not a sous chef
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lynxgriffin · 2 months
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What are your predictions for Deltarune Chapters 3-4 ?
Hmmm, let's see...
I think Susie and Ralsei are going to work out very quickly that Kris was the one to create this fountain. Susie's going to brush it off like "Okay yeah I get why you would, it's okay we'll just have fun and seal the fountain when we're done anyway!" and Ralsei will try and act like it's not a problem, when he clearly is bothered by it, and this will start to build up some tension between Ralsei and Kris.
I am open to Toriel being another side party member, less convinced yet that we'll be seeing another adult like Undyne or Napstablook there as well. I do not think we'll be getting a Snowgrave repeat where Toriel is manipulated into killing Undyne or anything like that. If there's a weird route continuation here, it'll be handled very differently.
I don't think we'll be seeing more of the Dreemurr household in the dark world; it'll just be focused on what's on the TV. We've already got a few possibilities for areas: a cooking show, the weather report, and the monster movie, plus we do keep getting hints that the western show may show up in some capacity.
To that end...hopefully a Susiezilla sequence for the monster movie part!
Unsure of what Mike's role will be in here, but I'm anticipating Tenna as the main big bad for this Dark World.
I don't think anyone has guessed the secret boss for chapter three yet, and I don't think anyone will. Thusfar for secret bosses, there's been no hints of them from other places, and you have to go out of your way to find them. Their function as Darkners made from discarded/forgotten objects makes sense in hindsight, but isn't obvious from the get-go. All we know is that we'll need the shadow mantle for a future secret boss, and that that's missing now.
At the end of chapter three, Asriel is going to call on the landline phone and talk to Toriel briefly, but WE won't get to actually communicate with him and it's going to drive me bonkers.
We know less about chapter four, except for some very basic things...Susie and Kris have a few scenes talking out in the light world, and it's raining some of that time. It could either go the direction of an all-light world chapter, or another dark world they explore the next day.
Assuming it's the latter and there's another dark world (which makes more sense to me), I feel the best location options are the hospital, the church, and Asgore's flower shop. If there's a thread started in chapter three getting into more of the Dreemurr family history and Kris's place in it (which does seem to be the case), Asgore's shop seems the best bet to continue that thread next, so I'm going to predict Asgore's shop for chapter four.
Since that's a flower shop and all, a more Alice In Wonderland sort of theming seems likely, with more of a jungle/wild area that the Fun Gang has to explore compared to the city and sound stage areas of previous chapters.
I am expecting Catti (and potentially also Jockington) to be future Dark World partners, and either chapter four or chapter five seems a good option for that.
I think Catti is necessary as a partner 1) because of her occult history with Kris, 2) her focus on protecting Noelle, who I could see showing up in the Dark World again as early as chapter four or five, and 3) her clearly having beef with Susie.
If we're dealing with Kris's family history through chapters 3 and 4, I can see that then going into more of Susie's backstory and whatever is going on with her family. I get the feeling that Catti knows some secret about Susie that makes her dislike her more than just "she stole Jockington's hat once", and that will need to be resolved in conjunction with learning more on Susie's situation.
Every day in-game that big-headed blue bird monster is going to reveal another shelf in the second floor of the library, which will slowly give more worldbuilding lore, and it's going to be maddening just getting those little crumbs of info one at a time.
We'll be getting more Knight hints, but not a real reveal until chapter five.
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paper-gold-theories · 2 months
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flug in a bunny outfit
There was an official post in the AI Animation's Instagram of Flug as the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland along with the rest of the Villainous gang.🥰🐇🐰
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euphoricfilter · 1 year
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like crazy ~ part one
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☆゚part one of four
pairing(s): namjoon x reader, seokjin x reader, yoongi x reader, hoseok x reader, jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader
genre: fluff || smut || angst || non-idol au || reincarnation au || strangers to lovers || established relationships || regency era au || gang au ||
summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.
word count: 14k
tags/ warnings: duke! taehyung, jimin, fluff, so much love, angst, death(s)/implied murder, mentions of blood, mentioned suicide, mentioned puking, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut in the forms of: implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, this is fiction), oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, talks of pregnancy and babies
notes: this mini series is very loosely inspired by an au idea i wrote a while back about an immortal m/c. i'm going to try and keep updates every other week but i am moving home really soon so if there's any change in the schedule then i'll post about it!! and as always, feedback is always encouraged <3
‘like crazy’ mini series masterlist || my main masterlist
🪐 🌠 ∘₊✧─── *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ───✧₊∘ ✧ ˚  ·    . 💫
“A lot has happened since we last spoke” You look down at the gravestone, moss and mud having found home over unnerving death, “Sorry it took me so long to visit” Maybe it helped that the sun was out, tears that were meant to fall soaked up in golden rays of light that warm your cheeks rather than wet them. 
You place a bouquet of red chrysanthemums before the thick slab of stone, closing your eyes briefly. Not a thought in your mind as you revel in the peace of what was once a roaring home. 
“Now, where should I begin?” 
The day you remembered your first life, it felt as though your world had tilted off its axis. That everything you thought you’d learnt about yourself was nothing more than a singular star in a galaxy that sat in the vast universe. A mere atom in the formula that builds you as a person. 
It was like a never-ending spiral. Little pockets of a past life you were never supposed to know, hidden between rouge pieces of space rock and black holes of a different time. Where one misstep had you slipping down a rabbit hole of the unknown with nothing to grab onto. Spiralling down like you were Alice, except you were far from Wonderland. 
You weren’t even sure if you were in denial, or if it was all a far-fetched dream crafted by a wild imagination. Perhaps it was something more like guilt, because as much as Jimin was most definitely the love of your life; he was simply the love of this life.
Strange, heart-wrenching emotions had weighed on your shoulders as you remembered a past lover, who had held your heart ever so delicately in soft hands. And you’d held his, cradling it to your chest until your hearts had beaten in unison. Where wild fantasies had painted a forever, that was never going to be forever. 
Your skin had crawled as fingertips that no longer exist had danced over your body, and burning lips, kissing you in places that should only be Jimin’s. A touch not that of your lover’s, digging into sacred places, secret places that you had only ever worked up the courage to show Jimin. 
The sudden force of having to re-live grief when you yourself should also be dead had sent you into a frenzy. With too many sleepless nights, and too many harsh words sent Jimin’s way as you tried to navigate so many new stimuli at once. This love for another man was like a phantom hand latching onto your heart and squeezing, pulling, and sinking you further down. Sinking down, down, down until a whirlwind of emotions had flushed over you. Joy. Excitement. Sorrow. Heart-ache. Hatred. Love. Too much love. So much more love. A different sort of love you had never felt. Love love love. 
There were too many secrets. Secrets you didn’t truly understand, a jumble of words that melt into slush and clog your brain, sparking against neurotransmitters and mingling with more information than you knew what to do with. Secrets that go away when Jimin is stood before you, and you’re reminded of who your heart now belongs to. The world finally silent, and hands stop grabbing you, and you can finally breathe again. It was as if Jimin had become a catalyst for your fraying feelings. 
The story of Jimin had bloomed in spring. 
When the sky felt as though it were at the tips of your fingers if you were to reach up high enough. And the world smelt of flowers and herbs that sat on window-sills of rundown houses. Where skin was sun-kissed, tender and pink on the back of your neck. And all the evils of the world were taking a nap for the afternoon with the cats that lounged in the shade under trees. 
“Excuse me”
You perk up, squinting when the sun hits your eyes. 
The memory of your first encounter with Jimin will always be one you find yourself going back to. Vivid enough that when you dream of this day, you’re often tempted to reach out and touch him as if he were really there. 
His name on the tip of your tongue, tickling the back of your throat and mind, though nothing comes out as the scene replays itself for the thousandth time. 
It’s like a well-practised play, where you pose as the main cast while simultaneously being the audience. (Maybe it was more of a tragedy, a shame when you know how this one ended.) A little jarring that you have no control over your own body, lips moulding around words so many times you could recite the first conversation the both of you had over and over again. 
Sickly regret holding you in its palms, because there are so many more things you want to tell Jimin, words that he’ll never get to hear. 
It mustn’t have been very long after midday when you’d met. Sweat tickling the back of your neck and untamed grass pocking at your ankles and between bare toes. 
The air smelt of burning wood, crackling fire nothing but a whisper in the wind as footsteps crunch over gravel, and children thump into the tall grass and crush delicate flowers under the weight of their tiny bodies. 
The dress you were sewing is dropped into your lap in favour of cupping your hands around your eyes to see the face of your visitor. Your cheeks dusting the lightest shade of pink when you finally get a look at his face. 
You knew of Jimin, as did most on your estate. The other seamstresses never knew when to close their mouths, always tittering away about everyone and everything that lived in the area. Mindless gossip that you always found yourself turning away from when their giggles would get too loud, or opinions too crude for your liking. 
Jimin had become somewhat of an enigma since turning into an adult. Names were thrown around like he weren’t ever to hear them; though you know his mother works in the building next door. Sure to have heard what her friends had been saying about her son behind her back. How much of a shame it is that he has such a nice face but no money. That no woman would ever want to settle for a man with nothing to his name, even if their babies were to be beautiful. 
Or how their daughters had wandered into the city and found wealthy bachelors, who bought them dresses lined with thread made of gold, and jewellery that weigh down their necks. Who eat like royals, and prance around well-kept gardens into their husbands’ arms. 
Thoughts ever so shallow you never found yourself stooping to their level when they’d nudge you for your opinion. The bitter remark that their children had abandoned them had always clung to your lips, because surely if they cared they would have lifted their parents out of commoner status and housed them in luxury. 
The rumours of Jimin’s beauty were true, that much you now knew. Whatever child-like innocence you had left inside of you dubbing him as something akin to a garden fairy; just as you imagined them when you were young. 
Not quite dainty, yet not thick muscle, something a little softer around the edges. And with his overgrown hair haloed by the sun as he takes a step to the side, blanketing you in shade, you think he looks like a dream. 
“Yes?” your head tilts, gaze flitting to the scarce bouquet that he holds. Tips of his fingers evidence that he’d dug them up himself, wet soil clinging to his skin and boots; just as rough and old as the rest of his clothes. Though really you find you have no place to judge when you, yourself are dressed no better than him. 
“These are for you” He thrusts the flowers into your face, entirely too eager as dirt falls into your lap, though you find yourself laughing. Uncaring that your mother’s dress bears the brunt of his enthusiasm. 
You clear your throat when he avoids your eyes, “From you?” 
And he nods, watching from the corner of his eye as you take them in gentle hands as not to let any of the smaller flowers fall out of place. You lay them delicately over your lap, feeling around the grass for your thread. 
You snap it with your teeth, tying the stems of the flowers together so you wouldn’t lose any of them. A pot already in mind that you keep beside your mattress in the bedroom. Dust had collected around the rim, and lime scale clung to the insides, though you think the flowers would look lovely beside you as you slept. 
“And–” he rubs his hands over his pants, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, “And this” He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. 
The tips of your fingers brush against one another as you take it from him. Curiosity wins over the heated flush that threatens to dust over your cheeks at the accidental contact. 
‘I think you’re pretty’ 
“Would you like to join me?” you smile, patting the space beside you, Jimin’s own lips curling up at the corners. 
“I’m Jimin” 
And you refrain from telling him you know. Because the Jimin you knew was the one that had been tossed from mouth to mouth, built on flimsy lies and stupid expectations. Entirely built by rotten imaginations and women who had nothing better to do than chatter about other people’s lives when their own was crumbling just as much. 
“Y/n” you giggle, outstretching your hand for him to shake. 
Jimin’s eyes curl into little crescents as he smiles, a laugh bubbling up his throat “Nice to meet you, Y/n” 
“Nice to meet you” You nod, “Oh! And, I think you’re pretty too” 
“Do you think I can take you on a date? Tomorrow?” he turns to you, and you blink up at him. 
“So soon?” 
“Too soon?” he winces. 
The corners of your lips turn upwards, busying yourself with finishing mending your mother’s dress, “No, I quite like how straight to the point you are” 
Jimin’s chest deflates as he sighs, “I thought it might have scared you a little” he admits. 
You hum, “No one’s ever asked me on a date before” you admit. 
A wave of ease falls over the both of you, a unanimous understanding that there weren’t any expectations between the two of you. That as much as love was thrown onto the table, it didn’t have to be what the two of you got out of this. 
Friendship, when you’re alone, is just as precious as a lover. Another human being with very human emotions and morals that match yours is just as special as something a little more than platonic. 
“No way” he laughs, shoulder knocking against yours, you bite back a smile, “A girl as pretty as you?” 
“Mmhmm” 
“Then it’d be an honour to be the first” feeling bold, Jimin’s arm slips across your shoulders, “And hopefully the last”
“Ah is that so?” you drop the dress onto the grass beside you, pushing yourself to sit on your heels as you turn to face Jimin. 
He nods, eyes flicking from your own to your lips, then back up again. Perhaps only mapping out your face into his mind, carving out every little crevice that makes you, and burning it into his brain. Or maybe it’s something a little less innocent. 
You lean forward, a chaste kiss pressed to Jimin’s cheek before you pull back; a shy smile mirroring his, flushed cheeks probably matching his too. Though you find yourself liking the feeling, something ever so foreign yet welcome, you can’t help the airy laugh that spills from your lungs. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
It had been the incessant tapping at your window that had woken you up like a little bird was pecking at the old glass. Understandably, fear had settled in your heart, it wasn’t often you were woken up in the middle of the night like this. 
The floorboards creaked under the weight of your body as you slipped off your mattress, socked feet barely making a sound as you plan an easy escape without your uninvited visitor knowing you were going to find your mother. 
You almost trip over your own feet when the tapping stops, Jimin calling out your name. 
You scuttle over to your window, tugging your curtains open, “What are you doing here so late?” you whisper when you unlatch the window, pushing it open. 
“I forgot to give you this” he raises his arm, a singular sunflower clasped between his fingers. 
“You came all the way here to give me this?” you ask, baffled. 
“Yes, I forgot to pick you a bouquet before our date this afternoon” he nods, “That…and I just missed you” 
“Would you like to come in?” you take a step away from your window. 
You see the unfiltered surprise on his face, “Too soon?” 
He shakes his head, “I just wasn’t expecting it is all” 
You pluck the sunflower from between his fingers, turning to place it in the vase with the other flowers he’d gifted you over the last week. 
You turn back to Jimin as his boots thump against the floor, he kicks them off, shuffling in one spot as you take a seat on your mattress. 
“Come here” you hide your smile, biting your bottom lip. He’s ever so careful as he takes a seat beside you. The both of you fall onto your backs like you often did in the grass at the park. 
Soft silver moonlight spills into the room from the open curtains, cool night air washing over the both of you as you stare at the ceiling. 
“I really like spending time with you” Jimin breaks the silence, though his gaze remains trained on one spot of your roof. 
“I really like spending time with you, too” You tilt your head to look at him, unexplainable happiness filling your body until you felt like bursting. 
He hums, next words barely above a whisper. “I hope we can be together for a long time” 
“I would like that” 
Jimin turns his head to face you, the softest smile on his face, “I’m glad” 
 Love with Jimin was pure. The both of you were young enough that it didn’t matter if it were rough around the edges, imperfect; though you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. It wasn’t hard to fall in love. Not when it was Jimin.
For every date he took you on, he would spend hours in the park picking flowers for you. 
His mother had always adored them and could talk about anything botanical for hours. She knew all their meanings and all their worth. Her love for one of the world’s tiny treasures brushing off on Jimin growing up. Over the years the reason for his love had changed, something special to his mother was now something special to him. 
Because flowers now reminded Jimin of you. Where soft petals between the tips of his fingers felt like your skin under his hands, always reaching out for you, holding any part of you he could. How the world around you smelt of flowers as he braided them into your hair or you made promise rings with wilting stems that needed a little bit of love; a new life, a new purpose. 
And of course, Jimin had heard all about the men in the city who bought acres of land for their lovers. Gardens tended to with warm hands but barely there love. And Jimin’s dream was to spend afternoons in a garden, your knees brushing as he plants flower beds and vegetables. So he could wake you up each morning with a new bouquet and a letter as to why he loves you so much. 
“What’s this one?” you tuck Jimin’s hair behind his ear, pressing a kiss to his nose. 
“A red chrysanthemum” He tilts your face, thumb caressing the skin behind your ear. 
“Yeah?” you breathe, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks as his lips barely brush over your own, and Jimin hums. 
You smile into the kiss, “And what do red chrysanthemums mean?” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders. 
“I love you” 
You pull back, eyes widening a fraction. Three words that felt like they should be whispered, a secret that the two of you shared but never spoke about. You knew you loved Jimin in some capacity, you weren’t stupid. And you knew he liked you back, he’d made that known; and yet those three words had you feeling as though love was the only emotion that mattered. That the only thing you could ever do was love Jimin.
“Too soon?” he smiles, thumb running over your bottom lip. 
You shake your head, “No, not at all” 
“This is for you too then” His free hand slips into his pocket. Piece of paper tucked between two fingers, he drops it into your awaiting palm. 
‘I love you ♡” 
Young love didn’t have to be rushed. You didn’t have to stagger after Jimin as he pulled you along, or him chase after you as you sped ahead. It could be late-night talking about all the seemingly insignificant things in life. How hard growing up was or the insane expectations for success that neither of you had a chance of grasping. 
Marriage didn’t have to be your only reason. Not when Jimin had become many of the reasons you liked waking up in the morning, or making lunch for the both of you to share on scarce breaks at work. 
It could be slow dancing in the moonlight, as Jimin hums and crickets chirp. Or afternoons spent lounging in the sun with pinkies intertwined and breaths in sync. Or, now whispered ‘I love yous’ melting into soft kisses to cheeks and lips and noses. Or pink flushed cheeks and smiles that hurt your face, the good kind of hurt that makes you giggle and want one more gentle press of his lips to your own. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You dip your fingers into the shallow edge of the lake, “It’s pretty cold” 
You peek over your shoulder as Jimin pulls his shirt over his head, lithe muscles flexing under the motions of his movements. Every sharp line and soft ridge of his body was illuminated by the silver light of the moon. 
“Guess we better warm up then” he grins, eyes raking down your body. They then linger on your face, and it’s not often you wonder what Jimin’s thinking. He usually speaks his mind, clingy shyness about his feeling for you never holding him back when it came to his thoughts. 
You laugh, “Perv” your own shirt haphazardly shucked off your body, thrown into a pile with the rest of Jimin’s clothes. 
His arm slips over your waist as you kick your panties off, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms as your boyfriend takes a step into the lake. 
His chest opens as the initial shock of the cold crawls up his spine. Jimin watches you fidget, arms wrapped around your bare breasts, “Come on, baby” he reaches a hand out for you, walking further until he’s waist-deep in the water. 
An easy smile is on his face as he beckons you over, wading closer to you when you work up the courage to slink into the water. Your breath hitches as you take Jimin’s hand, legs wrapping around his waist. He throws your arms around his shoulders, murky water rippling around the both of you as he spins you around. Your bare chest pushes up against Jimin’s as you pull him closer, your body easing a little at the extra heat. 
“You’re pretty” he murmurs, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, hoisting you up a little higher. 
You push his hair from his forehead, lips lingering over warm skin when you lean down to press a kiss over his hairline; your hands cupping his cheeks, eyes flickering across his face. You weren’t sure how to explain how you felt, Jimin had always been better at words than you had been. 
It’s just, Jimin in the moonlight always felt right. Because for once the world fell silent, it felt like it finally belonged to just you and him. He looked ever so pretty dusted in silver, honeyed skin kissed by the wonders of the sky. Blemishes nothing but pretty places to kiss, each moment your lips touch his skin another reason for you to wonder how you even ended up here. 
“I love you” you whisper.
But that never felt like enough. Three frail words that you utter over and over again, that should really lose their meaning over time, are the only words that ever seem to come to mind when it’s Jimin. Nothing fancy. Nothing poetic. Nothing that’s more than an ‘I love you’ because no matter how many times you seemed to say it, the weight of your words is always understood by Jimin.  
And he laughs, “How abrupt of you” 
You bite back a smile, “Sorry, it just came out” 
“I might love you more, you know” His eyes close. 
You press a kiss over his eyelids, “I think that’s impossible”  
He hums, “I don’t” 
He peeks an eye open, smiling when he sees the frown on your face. 
“Every breath I take, and for every beat of my fragile heart, I will love you. Until the day I lay on my deathbed, and we must part ways, my love will be yours.” his eyes meet your own, “Though I know we’ll meet in the sky, and I’ll hand you my heart once more” 
“And I’ll hand you mine” Your eyes search his, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. 
“I’m glad, my love. And I’ll cherish it for as long as you’ll allow me” 
“Forever.” you say, wondering if his eyes really held galaxies or if they simply reflected the sky, “It’ll be yours forever” 
“Then I have something to tell you” 
Your eyebrows crease, and a strange sense of dread and excitement mixes inside of you. And you aren’t sure if you’re jittery from the cold or nerves or fear. 
“What is it?” you urge. 
Jimin swallows, hands travelling over your bare back and down your waist, “I’ve put down two gold coins for that house we had been talking about” 
Your chest deflates, lungs wringing themselves out of all the air you had until you’re laughing. Almost falling backwards into the water if Jimin hadn’t pulled you closer to his body. 
“Have you really?” you breathe, hand tangling into the hair on the back of his head, “Park Jimin, don’t lie to me” 
He smiles, chest shaking with his own breathy laughter, “Never, my love. Truly it is going to be ours” 
You shake your head, “How did you find the money for it” 
“You know I have been working double shifts as of late” he hums, wet hands pushing your hair from your face, eager to see your blooming happiness. 
“Yes, but I thought it was for your mother” 
“She earns enough to feed herself, and I wanted a place of our own. And I know how much we’ve both dreamed of this moment, I had to do it” 
“You’re perfect, you know that?” your lips mould into his, a moan of appreciation swallowed as you tilt your head; tongue poking at the seam of his lips. 
“I do now” he huffs, pulling you in for another kiss by the back of your neck. 
“We’re really going to have a home” 
“Yes” he laughs, “Forever ours” 
“I can’t believe it” you whisper, “Pinch me so I know it is real” 
A moan gets caught in the back of your throat as Jimin’s teeth nip at the tender skin behind your ear, plush lips kissing over your skin, saliva slicked and heated. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You think you can find your and Jimin’s love in the little wonders of the world. Because as much as he wanted to hand you the universe, both of you knew that was impossible. That your love was tucked away, safer when hidden in dreams of a shared future. Tucked away in a home that was now yours forever, because neither of you had plans of going anywhere. 
As selfish as it may seem, you’d stolen spring to be your own. You’d met in the spring and found a place for yourselves as flowers bloomed. You were Jimin’s spring flower and he was the sun and the moon and all the pretty things in between. 
It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine, your lives were like clockwork, never stopping. It had always been that way, except now you’d stay within the precious walls of your home, and Jimin would return to you before the sun slipped behind the horizon and dinner was finished cooking on the fire. 
Most mornings the both of you would wake up before sunrise, and you’d eat near-stale bread on the chairs Jimin had made outside the front door. Where once or twice a butterfly had come to kiss your nose in good morning, and then Jimin would kiss the same place over and over until you’re both giggling like it was the first time you’d kissed. 
And for the days he slipped out of the house before you woke, he would leave little letters around the house for you to find throughout the day. 
‘Last night I saw a star as you slept, and it reminded me of your eyes. Briefly, I thought to wake you but after seeing you so at peace, I decided to join you instead ♡’  
He’d always had a secret liking towards poetry and found himself sitting with a quill and paper as the moon sat in the sky, thinking of poems about you. And only the ones that made him smile, and made his heart jump up and down inside his chest did he ever leave on his pillow for you to wake up to the next morning. 
You’d clean the floors between sewing as Jimin worked as a blacksmith, lithe frame bulking up over the last couple of months. And he would make sure to leave you a note before leaving the house, with every little thing he would find that he loved about you. 
‘Today’s reason is your smile ♡’ 
Evenings were your favourite, as were Jimin’s. Both your bodies ease into one another’s as you sit on worn-down cushions while playing checkers that your father had carved for you as a child. 
Or you’d simply lay your head over Jimin’s thigh as he sings for you under the stars. Bellies almost full and hearts the most content as the universe writes your love in shooting stars, its ink the soft glow of the moon. 
“I have a surprise for you next week, so take the day off” Jimin’s fingers rake through your hair, tucking it ever so delicately behind your ear. 
You peel your eyes open, “And what about your own work?” 
“I have already asked for a day away, no problem” He smiles down at you. 
“What sort of surprise is it?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, carried by the wind to Jimin’s ears, who hums. 
He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “I mustn’t say, it will ruin it” 
“But I’ll be curious” You jab a finger into his stomach, lips curling into a smile when he leans down to capture your lips. 
“Poor thing” he whispers, stealing another kiss. 
‘A clue to your surprise: It reminds me of you ♡’ 
“I still don’t know what it is” You slide Jimin’s most recent note across the table, and he shrugs. 
“Your final clue” He hands you another piece of paper. 
‘Think of when we first met’  
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited” Jimin laughs, arm slung over your shoulders. 
You skip ahead a little, walking backwards as you smile over at Jimin who takes one of your hands, helping you twirl as if you were a princess and he was the prince. You’d spent every night sewing a new dress with leftover fabric from the tavern; a special occasion called for a special outfit.  
And Jimin had smiled and laughed so much he’d almost fallen off the back of his chair as you’d spun for him. He’d called you utterly beautiful and then tugged you over his lap for a kiss, maybe two. 
“Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been eager to know what your surprise is” 
“Happiness looks good on you, my love” Jimin stops walking, pulling you to his chest. 
“Then I must look good all the time, with you around” 
“Where do you learn these things” His hand covers his mouth, a lame attempt at covering his smile. 
“You” 
Jimin raises his eyebrows, astounded, “When have I ever been cheesy?” 
“All the time. I’ll show you when we get home, I have all those letters you’ve left me” 
“You kept all those?” he gapes, footsteps falling in time with your own as you both start wandering back down the gravel path. 
“Of course. I still have the first ever one you gave me, and then all the ones that came after that” 
You bite your bottom lip, willing yourself not to laugh when you catch sight of Jimin’s rose-dusted cheeks. 
“Then you may think I’m extra cheesy today” he announces, fingers interlacing with your own. 
“Is that so?” you hum, shoulder knocking against his arm. 
Jimin turns to you, “Do you trust me?” 
You blink. 
“Of course” 
“Then please close your eyes” 
“Right now?” your head tilts, eyes squinting to gauge how far away the end of the pathway is, “It doesn’t seem like we’re anywhere that a surprise could be” 
“We are” he turns to you, “It won’t be a surprise if you keep looking though” 
You nod, eyes narrowing; sceptical. 
“If this is where you secretly murder me then I swear on my grave I will come back from the dead Park Jimin” 
He laughs, “It would be impossible to live in a world without you, I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you if it weren’t for your own pleasure” 
You bring your hands to cover your eyes, back straightening when Jimin takes hold of your arm, turning you in the direction of the forest. 
“Careful, the path is uneven this way” He pulls you further under the blanket of trees. 
“Are we almost there” you stumble, amused laugh shaking your shoulders as Jimin’s other hand falls onto your waist to keep you steady. 
“Almost” 
The both of you stumble to a stop, your eyes squeezing shut behind your hands as you wander into the sun, out of the shade. 
“Are you ready?” 
And you hear the unease in his voice, a week of pressure building up. Bubbling until it’s now fizzling out of him in nervous rivulets, hands clammy as they run up and down your arms. His feet shuffle against crunchy grass, and this might be the most jittery you’ve ever seen Jimin. 
“Yes,” you tell him, keeping your eyes closed as you take hold of his hands, squeezing his fingers between your own. Jimin swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of it. 
His eyes wander over your face, “May I kiss you?” 
The corner of your lips curl up at that, “Yes” you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheeks. 
The tension in both your shoulders releases as your lips mould together, ever so slowly, neither of you rushing as Jimin’s tongue teases into your mouth. He laps up every little noise that slips off your tongue, sweet like nectar. 
Your eyes slip open, entirely focused on Jimin’s. “I really hope you like it” He keeps your focus on him, foreheads still touching, noses knocking against one another. 
“May I be honest with you?” 
And he hums, “Yes, of course” 
“If it’s from you, then I will always love it” 
“That seems a little extreme” he laughs, though unease still chews away at his mind. 
“I don’t think so. Surely you would like anything I gifted you” 
He nods, “Of course, I would” 
“Then it’s no different for me, so please don’t worry” you whisper, eyes slipping closed once more as you press a featherlight kiss to his plush lips. 
“Keep your eyes closed for a moment” he whispers back, and you hum. 
Jimin’s hands fall away from your body, shadow slipping away from behind your eyelids as he steps away from you. 
“Open them” 
And you do. 
“Oh Jimin” you whisper, a twitch of your lip the first sign of a smile. 
As far as you can see, there are just flowers. The most vibrant you have ever seen, almost glowing under the warm light of the sun. For all the flowers Jimin had given you over the years, you think there must be every colour he’d ever thought to bring you; all swaying in tandem as if it were the most beautiful ocean. 
The field stretches until it meets the sky, land completely hidden by a blanket of wildflowers. 
You don’t know where to look, so many places to look but only two eyes. Your head is pulled in every which direction, mouth falling open in awe. 
“Where did you find this place?” your voice comes out breathless, gaze only briefly meeting Jimin’s before you’re drawn back to acres of untouched land. A whole ecosystem thriving on its own, untampered with by human life. 
“On the way back from a job. It reminded me of you, and I knew I had to bring you here” he steps closer to you, fingers brushing against your own. 
You turn to face Jimin, “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Thank you for sharing it with me” 
You slip your fingers through Jimin’s, “Would you like to dance with me?” 
“Right here?” his eyes widen. 
You nod, tugging him towards the sea of flowers, “Yes” 
“But we have no music” his resistance nothing more than a show as he makes no move to stop you. 
Wild grass tickles both your ankles, delicate petals of smaller flowers caressing your bare legs as you hike your dress up. 
“That doesn’t matter” you laugh, pulling him further and further until overgrown flowers dust over your waist like gentle fingers, and a butterflies’ wings tickle your cheek. 
Jimin watches as you twirl, hands outstretched for him to come closer. Your body knocks into his as he pulls you into his chest. Both of you fall in sync, as curious hands wander over arms and backs, down to waists and hips. 
You flinch when something wet hits your nose, Jimin turning his face to the sky. 
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” he says, and you tilt your head to look, “Perhaps we should go home” 
You shake your head, “But we only just got here” 
“But the rain, my love” he takes your hands, taking a step back, though your feet stay planted in their spot. 
“A little bit of rain never hurt anyone” You pull him back into your body, eyes squeezing shut as a raindrop collides with your lashes. 
The both of you are washed in a gust of shade, the sun hidden behind dark clouds that bleed into the horizon. 
“Won’t you dance with me?” you look up at Jimin, clothes starting to mould into your skin as the sky rains more unshed tears. 
“I suppose” he grins, arm falling around your waist. 
Your hair clings to your foreheads, sodden leaves wetly slapping against your arms and legs. Rouge petals that had plans of rotting on the soil now hanging on to your dress and Jimin’s pants. 
Your dress doesn’t fan out like a royal’s would when Jimin spins you, neither is he really dressed like a prince but the both of you feel as though you could be of that status in that moment. 
Your eyes fall shut, smile never leaving your face. It’s as though your body evaporates, that the world around you fizzles upwards in little bubbles and you follow their lead. Chasing after the light that shines down on you like a beacon. 
Something strange tugs at your heart, sinking you further and further into the darkness as you kick upwards until you’re spinning and the world is spinning with you. And the darkness feels all too familiar, your footsteps practised perfectly as if a routine. 
Hands roam your body. Both yours and his laughter muffled underwater, a whisp of a soul slipping through your fingers when you turn towards the deep timbre of another voice, a voice far deeper than Jimin’s. His laugh vibrates in your chest as phantom hands graze against your naked skin. And he’s calling your name, your mouth opening to call back except nothing but air puffs past your lips; air bubbles caressing your cheeks as they float upwards. 
Your feet move on their own without much thought as you turn in every which direction, only to ever be met by darkness; feet caught in quicksand that has you sinking further away from the light. 
There’s something on the tips of your fingers as you reach out and an awful pressure squeezes at your chest and the echo– the echo of a voice you’ve heard before. Everything is awfully jumbled, words shoved down your throat, acidic in your stomach– poison as it absorbs into your bloodstream. 
You stumble over your feet chasing after where the stranger’s voice had come from and suddenly your eyes are open as you collide with the floor. Brain rattling within the confines of your skull and your whole world shakes a along with you. 
Jimin’s arms cage your head, chest heaving as he holds himself up over your body. 
You feel puddles of water and sodden soil soak into the back of your dress as you sink further into the ground. 
“Sorry” he whispers, droplets of water from his hair falling onto your cheeks. 
“It’s okay, I forgot where I was for a moment” you admit, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. 
“I could tell” he laughs, falling back onto his heels. 
Jimin tugs you up by your arms, pushing your wet hair out of your face. 
“Maybe we should go home” he murmurs, “I’d hate to have another accident” 
You nod,  “I think that’s a good idea”
“Let’s go home, my love” he pushes himself to stand, and you glance down at your hands. 
“Did you hear another man’s voice?” you blink away the rain from your lashes, Jimin’s eyebrows furrowing. 
“No? It’s only the two of us here” he takes your hands, helping you up, “Did you hear someone?” 
You shake your head, “No, it must have been something else” 
“You know” Jimin starts as you trek out of the flowers, “I’ve never met anyone that loves dancing in the rain as much as you” 
“I can’t explain the feeling” You turn to him, the smallest of smiles on your face. 
“Then should we dance every time it rains?” 
“I always dance when it rains” You pull him closer to your side, a futile attempt to steal some of his body heat. 
“Yes, but I always watch. Maybe I’ll join you from now on” 
“I would like that” you hum. 
And that should have been the end of it. A conversation left in the past where its only leeway into your future is Jimin joining you the next time it decides to rain. Except, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 
It was rotten how for those few moments the world hadn’t been yours, and Jimin hadn’t been Jimin, and you hadn’t been you. Or that the other voice that had definitely been in your head, a whisper in your ear, an echo on the other side of the dark plane. A siren’s song pulling you further into your own demise, forbidden land you should have never passed over. 
It shouldn’t have been anything more than how much you truly loved dancing in the rain, where it was just something you had always loved and always done without thinking much about it. 
You turn your head to look at Jimin who lay beside you, finally asleep after the both of you had taken a bath. So at peace with himself and the world, as the weight of emotions, you’re unfamiliar with breathe down the back of your neck and you lay awake. 
It’s when you close your eyes, you start to fall. And the eyes that meet yours when you open them aren’t Jimin’s. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
For every life you lived after this one, the love you had here will cling onto you forever, sticky like you’d dipped your fingers in molasses. And maybe it’s because this had been the first time you’d learnt what love truly was, or maybe Taehyung had carved such a large hole in your heart that only he could ever truly fill. So even in life after him, he continues to burrow inside of you as his soul finally rests. 
Pure love was an addicting feeling. And maybe Taehyung had made you greedy, grabbing onto such a wonderful feeling over and over until it destroyed you. It wasn’t fair to blame him, but surely your greed had stemmed from somewhere.
And love could only ever be as magical as you’d imagined it if it begins with Taehyung. 
And so, the story of your first life, and therefore your first love starts with Kim Taehyung. 
Taehyung and Jimin had been the most similar of your loves. Both of them had always liked the more delicate things in life. 
Taehyung liked to read how whimsical the ocean was, white seafoam as gentle as clouds, and waves that caressed ankles that wandered the shore. Or how the stars always seemed that little bit brighter when you were in love, the universe shining its approval of something so perfect. He liked the idea of faeries that danced under the light of the moon, or reading forbidden love stories and poems that hurt his heart. Only to be mended with stories of truer love and lifetimes dedicated to another being. 
Taehyung’s sole purpose in life was to become a duke and run the estate after his father passed. Except he had never liked to be shoved into a mould, crafted by hands that had no care, rough as they shaped him. He despised the fact his life was gifted to him just so he could be chained to a role he had no purpose of fulfilling. 
His spirit had always been that of a wild bird, curious about things he had no business knowing, and wanting to wander where forbidden. 
He loved the freedom that birds had, how beautiful their feathers were, gliding through the sky without a care in the world. They had something he didn’t, and maybe his admiration had stemmed from some weird sense of jealousy. But, that never stopped the look of pure joy on his face whenever he caught a glimpse of a dove dancing on the waves of the wind. 
One of Taehyung’s hobbies had become complaining about his classes. The both of you giggled under one of the trees outside his window, shoulders knocking against each other’s as he told you stories of how his politics tutor was surely a witch, and there was no doubt in his mind that his literature teacher was a ghoul. 
The world felt as though it were crumbling at his feet on the days the two of you couldn’t meet. And so, he’d send you letters in secret, asking to meet at the front gate of the estate; where he’d hand you flowers through the bars, or kiss the back of your hand, only to beckon you closer when that doesn’t feel like enough. His plush lips warming your cheeks until he finds your lips and the both of you are melting into cold metal bars, the shyest smiles on both your faces when a maid catches the both of you. 
Most days were spent in the garden, or the drawing room where the both of you could talk for hours. You liked flicking through catalogues of dresses for the coming seasons, always asking Taehyung what he thought. Wondering if he’d like a new broach for his jackets, or if a new waistcoat would suit him. How wonderful the both of you would look matching, with a handkerchief you’d embroidered for him sat in his breast pocket– every gentle prick of the needle through fabric and each delicate line of tread, laced with love that lays beside his gently beating heart. 
Taehyung liked to recount all the things he adored about love, reciting poems and lines of novels he’d read before bed, and then telling you everything he adored about you. Because ‘love’ and ‘you’ should always fall in the same sentence in his eyes. Love would never truly be ‘love’ if you weren’t in the picture. Your silhouette was painted within each frame of his life, tucked in corners of the canvas or slipped far within his heart and mind. 
Taehyung and love were perhaps a synonym of one another. 
He was the epitome of love. 
All things romance and passion, and all things special between two people that have you shy and kicking your feet. Every moment feels like the long-awaited kiss after chapters of build-up and tension, where you have to look away from the book for a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and then bite your nails to hide a smile. 
If you had to describe Taehyung in one word, you think you’ll always gravitate towards eccentric. 
“I think the reason I was born, was to love you” he’d told you one evening, the stars like a halo around his head as he’d taken your hands into his own. 
You hadn’t known what to say, the corners of your lips quirking up at the sides because, of course, he’d utter such sweet words while the both of you laze in the gardens. Not quite ready to part ways just yet. Even if your carriage had been sat outside the house for over an hour, and your supper was probably sat on the table at home. 
“What a sorry reason to be born” you’d whispered back. 
“I don’t think so. The opposite, in fact” he tugs you a little across the grass, closer between his legs, “What is the point of life if it isn’t for unconditional love? And a mind that functions with the sole purpose of loving another?” 
Maybe it was that moment that you realised you loved love. That you loved loving Taehyung and you loved that he loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more. 
“Then, you’re my reason for living” It had fallen off your tongue quicker than you had thought to catch it. Though the smile that had stretched onto Taehyung’s face is one that will forever be etched into your mind, it had been innocent, content. 
You’d seen him smile so many times and yet, something had shifted in your mind, any qualms you had about letting go and succumbing to the purest form of adoration had fizzled out in both your hands. 
Because life wasn’t so bad when you had someone to love. 
“Just as you are my reason to live” he says. 
“I hope the both of us live forever so I never forget this feeling” you’d interlaced your fingers, cheeks flushing the lightest pink that’s veiled by the silver moonlight. Though he probably feels how warm you are when he cups your face, pressing a kiss over the tip of your nose. 
“Forever?” he hums, “Even if you were to forget, I would remind you over and over for as long as we’re together, and every life after that” 
“I’ll remind you too then” you promise, though Taehyung laughs, chest vibrating under the weight of his voice. 
“I could never forget, not when it comes to you, my love” 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You don’t remember when you’d met Taehyung, you think he’d always just been there. 
Perhaps the both of you had snuck out of a ball back in the day, two rowdy children giggling on the balcony as you whispered about guests. Which ones you liked, or the ones your mothers’ would mutter about under their breath. The both of you had done it so many times that it would be fitting for your first encounter. A habit the both of you would keep up as you grew older as well. 
Or maybe the both of you had camped out under the tables while your mothers flitted from group to group, and you’d stolen cakes from plates and perfectly cut sandwiches from unattended trays. Where you’d exchange slices of tomato for his pieces of cucumber, and you’d both share squares of cake from one fork. 
Friends from childhood had started bleeding into something a little more as the two of you grew and realized that maybe friendship wasn’t enough for either of you. And maybe that had been the little seedling from where your never-ending greed stemmed from. A constant feral need for constant love that was depicted in careful strokes of paintings and well-thought-out words bled onto a page with dark ink. 
Taehyung had known early on that it was always going to be you he married. There was no doubt in his mind that you were going to wed. It was not often he put his foot down when it came to the choices made for him in life, and making it a point he had no interest in any other woman than you, had always been a point he’d made extremely clear. 
Marriage hadn’t been something you’d put much thought into until Taehyung would bring it up as you drank tea together of an afternoon. And after the little seed of possibility had been planted in your mind, you knew you wanted to marry Taehyung. 
And you’d never second-guessed yourself, because if it was going to be anyone, then it was going to be your best friend. 
“If I were to wear a white dress, would you wear a white suit?” you lay the magazine over your chest. Taehyung pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose when he tilts his head down to look at you; head resting over his thigh. 
“If that is what you want” he hums, “White flowers may be too much, so let’s add colour” 
You run a finger over your bottom lip, “Purple?” 
“Of course” he nods, “I’ll braid them into your hair too” his fingers tickle over your hairline. 
You push yourself to sit up on your elbows, “I think it’s bad luck if the groom sees the bride in her dress on the morning of the wedding” 
Taehyung runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “To hell with tradition” 
“Your mother isn’t going to be very happy” you smile, “All she ever talks about is the perfect wedding” 
Taehyung smiles, “Yes, but it isn’t her wedding. I think I’d be beyond miserable if we weren’t to see each other, I must tell you how beautiful you look before we meet at the end of the alter” 
“It would only be a few hours” you press, eyebrows raising. 
“A few hours too many. Who is supposed to help me with my tie if not you?” 
You fully sit up now, “You’d have a maid or two aiding you” 
Taehyung frowns, whatever paperwork he was reading long forgotten on the couch as he tugs your legs over his thighs, fingers dancing over the bare skin covered by your skirt. 
“But they don’t do it as you do, and I have to look my best the day we tie souls and vow to be lovers for the rest of our time alive. It’s an important day” 
“I suppose you’re right” you hum, brushing his hair from his forehead, “I too, would be lonely if we were to part on such a joyous day” 
It hadn’t been long after the both of you had entered adulthood that Taehyung’s father had died, and only a few months after that the two of you had gotten married. 
You’d worried for Taehyung, knowing that even though his relationship with his father had never been the best, at least a small part of him should have been sad that his soul had left to rest. But no matter how much you lightly prodded, and made sure to ask if he were okay, Taehyung never shed a tear. 
He never truly found a way to articulate his feelings; losing someone he never saw as a father left the smallest hole in his heart. A pinprick, because Taehyung wasn’t heartless and knew the old man had brought him into this world, something he will forever be grateful for– but that was it. 
For the thousands of days you and Taehyung had spent together, the day he had proposed would be your second favourite of them all. He hadn’t made it extravagant, nor did he make it a huge point by proposing at a large gathering. He knew you despised those sorts of events, so he had asked you to be his bride at your favourite spot. 
The pond in Taehyung’s gardens had always been your favourite. It felt as though the world only belonged to the two of you when you spent evenings alone, sat on the bench, where fireflies danced over the water, their reflection like little stars scattered across the pond, the moon so much larger in its reflection than it looked in the sky. 
The day of your wedding, and all the days after that would forever take the top spot.
Taehyung had always loved your soul. He knew you were pretty, of course, you were; you were the most ethereal being he had ever come across. 
The faeries and pretty little wonders he read about, he always pictured you in their place. But it wasn’t always about the way you looked that had Taehyung coming back for more, or his heart thumping ever so hard against the skin of his chest whenever you were around. 
He thought you had the most wonderful soul that he liked to dip his fingers into, gentle like the softest waves, or cradle it to his chest. The most delicate part of you, ever so precious, the rawest form of yourself that he’d hold on to for as long as he was allowed. Because if one day the two of you were to ever part, he’d find the path of your soul, trace his fingers through every dip and curve he’d memorized, and make his way back to your side. 
The night of your wedding, the night the both of you had given yourself to one another fully, was never a moment Taehyung thought he’d be ready for. It’s not that he was second-guessing his choice– sometimes in life the moments we’ve been waiting for feel like a lifetime away. So many hours and even more minutes between now and then, that when the day stumbles before you in all its joyous glory, no amount of falling into your mind in silent preparation had ever truly prepared you for this. 
Taehyung had worshipped your body like you were his only goddess, you were his religion, his reason for life and death and everything he breathed and consumed in his fragile mortal body. Your souls knotting as your lips pressed so gently against one another, their pinkies forever intertwined as they melted like candle wax and hardened as one lifeform. 
Taehyung particularly loved the feeling of your nails digging into the delicate skin of his shoulders. A feeling forever ingrained into his mind, sending a shiver up his spine when his mind wanders to how you looked in candlelight, spread bare for him to defile. 
The both of you felt as though the honeymoon phase was nothing but lies, an easy scare for those who fell too fast, drowning in acidic love that dragged two people away from one another in harsh waves. Because for you and Taehyung, it never ended. 
Every day that you woke up to Taehyung beside you, had you burying your face in your pillow, smile so hard to contain you covered it up with a kiss to Taehyung’s lips as he slowly woke up. 
“I love you” he’d murmur, eyes barely open. 
“I love you more” a hand cupping his cheek, you’d press a kiss to his jaw; sometimes tickled by the stubble that had grown in. 
Something ever so mundane, yet it always seemed to bring you so much happiness. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
For a week during the summer, Taehyung would hand his duties over to his assistant and take you away for a short vacation. 
You liked the little house the both of you owned on the other side of town, secluded from the rest of the world. 
It had been one summer when your love for rain had started. You often found yourself reading by the window when the summer showers would pay you a visit, dousing the garden in muddy puddles and the gentle pitter-patter of the world’s tears hitting the ground easy white noise as you danced across pages of books. Or simply watched Taehyung sits on the piano bench, only so he could sit in your company.
Taehyung had always loved playing the piano, one of his many loves that he’d buried with the immense amount of work that had piled on to him since taking the seat as head of the household. The grand piano that sat in the far room of the house was his secret door of salvation. 
“Will you play me a piece?” you motion towards the piano, doors to the garden hooked open. Sure to slam shut with the wind picking up. The air was a little sweeter that afternoon, a gentle breeze raking through your hair, licking at the tops of the pages of your book. 
“I haven’t played for a while” Taehyung closes his own book, “But if it’s for you, I could never say no” 
You take a seat beside Taehyung as he flexes his fingers, gently running his hand over the ivory keys. 
“Would you like me to get your music book?” you lay your head on his shoulder. 
He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. I doubt I’d remember how to read much of it anyways” 
“Do you remember my favourite piece?” 
Taehyung’s tongue wets his bottom lip, “I should hope so” 
Your eyes close as the first note penetrates the air, your head jostling slightly as Taehyung reaches the other end of the keys, his cheek knocking against the top of your head. The tips of his fingers dance elegantly, gentle with each deep hum of the piano’s song. 
You perk up at the first sound of rain, barely there, almost concealed by Taehyung as his movements become bolder, each thick note more pronounced, each deep hum vibrating through your skin. 
You lift your head from his shoulder, “I didn’t think it would rain today” 
You take one look at Taehyung, the smallest smile teasing at his lips when you stand. You kick your slippers off by the open door, toes curling into the damp grass as you step outside. 
You blink as a raindrop falls on your nose, slipping until it’s wetting your lips. You turn back to look at Taehyung, waving when he lifts his head to look at you; and he winces when he presses the wrong note. 
You wander further into the garden, hiking your skirt up so it won’t drag across the wet soil. 
As the rain gets heavier the sound of the piano is slowly drowned out, the world yours for the moment before you’re turning back to Taehyung. 
“Tae” you call back inside, beckoning him over when he turns towards you, “Come dance with me” 
The piano is left and forgotten as Taehyung pushes himself to stand, shoes piled with your slippers as Taehyung steps into the garden. He slinks towards you, hair starting to cling to his forehead as the rain gets heavier. 
“You’ll catch a cold” he takes your hand, tugging you into his chest. 
“But the world is so beautiful when it rains” 
“Just this once I’ll indulge you” he presses a kiss to your forehead. 
As much as the world looks wonderful in that moment, Taehyung outshined it all. Your clothes stuck to the both of you like a second skin, your hair tickling the side of your face, clinging to you like sticky wet vines down the back of your neck.
Taehyung’s hands wander your body, pulling you closer when you start to drift away– your hips finally falling in sync. All those hours of classes on how to dance are washed away by the rain as the both of you stumble, almost falling over each other’s feet. 
“Look” you point towards the back of the estate, “there’s a rainbow” you laugh. 
Taehyung follows your line of sight, “How pretty” he hums, his hands falling to your waist. 
Your fingers tease over his chest, heart hammering under his skin, mere seconds away from jumping out of his skin. Taehyung’s hands wander further down, a surprised moan catching in the back of your throat when he grabs the meat of your ass; tugging you into his body. And you can feel his growing erection against your stomach.  
“Not in the garden” you whisper, fingers trailing lower until you’re gently tugging at his belt. 
Taehyung leans down, warm breath fanning the side of your neck. He presses a wet kiss to the unblemished skin, “I wouldn’t give the serving staff the pleasure of seeing you fall apart for me” he whispers, sodden hair falling over your shoulder.
You take his hands from where they’re teasing over the top of your thighs, “Let’s go” you take long strides back towards the house. 
“Where to, my love?” he trails after you, the most giddy smile on his face. 
You look at him over your shoulder, “Our bedroom” 
Your feet slap wetly against the tile floors, muddy footprints trailing behind the both of you. Youthful joy thrums throughout your body, giggles hard to keep down as the both of you stagger through the hallway towards the bedroom. 
Taehyung’s overzealous in the way he opens the door, and you both wince when it bangs against the wall. The briefest clarity grazes your mind before lust sets back in, and all you can focus on is the incessant throbbing between your legs, and the man stood before you. 
You kick the door closed, Taehyung pulling his wet shirt over his head when you turn back to him– your dress is soon to follow. 
“Would you mind helping me?” you turn your back to Taehyung, shoulders curling inwards as his fingers trace over the intricate ribbing of your corset. 
He’s gentle as he tugs at the ribbons, and you heave a sigh of relief, muscles finally easing a little. Dull throb sinks out of your ribs as you heave a deep breath. 
You turn around, Taehyung’s eyes trailing to your bare chest, curving down the slope, fingers itching at his sides to sink and dig his nails into the plush flesh. He swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of desire. 
“My beautiful wife” he whispers, hands running up the length of your arms before he’s teasing the edge of your breasts. You trace over his belt, tugging impatiently as he pulls you towards the bed. 
You fall backwards onto the mattress, air momentarily punched from your lungs. Taehyung’s arms cage your head, thigh nudging your legs open for him. 
Your wet hair sticks to your neck, small droplets of water falling over your cheeks from Taehyung’s own hair as his eyes wander over your face. Windows to his soul wide open as sickly sweet love dances within his eyes, adoration you know you’ll never get from another man bared naked, yours for the taking. 
You rut up against his knee, damp cotton panties dragging deliciously against your clit. 
Taehyung’s arms flex as he leans down, plush lips trailing down your jaw, gently plucking soft moans from the back of your throat with every mean nip of his teeth over delicate skin. 
Your thighs clamp around Tae’s leg, arms slithering around his shoulders as you use him for your own pleasure, short bursts of pure arousal wracking up your body with every purposeful tense of his muscles. 
“Good girl” he groans, falling to hold himself up by his elbows as his lips map out the rest of your body– kissing over your neck, the underside of your breasts, down towards your stomach. You whine as he kneels before you, hips bucking upwards to try and chase the slowly fizzling pleasure. 
He kisses your mound over your underwear, tips of his fingers barely brushing over your clit as he trails them down towards your covered folds. Thumb splitting your labia, guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he feels your slick heat.
He can’t seem to stifle the chuckle that slips past his lips either as you whine, the most pitiful pout tugging onto your face as he teases you. 
“How needy” he croons, adding a little more pressure over your entrance, “I’ll make sure to make you feel good” 
You lift your hips, a silent invitation for him to tug your panties off, and he does, dropping them beside him; forgotten as he looks at your slick soaked pussy. 
“Tae” you whisper, impatient as your fingers tangle into his wet hair, careful as you try and tug him closer to where you needed him most without hurting him.
“Hm?” he hums, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he pushes them open a little wider, making it easier for him to slip closer to his favourite place. 
Your toes curl as he bends, placing the lightest kiss over your clit, “Want you” 
“Want you too, my love” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your folds. 
He licks a bold stripe from your entrance to your clit, tongue dipping past your walls before he’s pulling back, wad of spit dribbling over your already sodden cunt.
Your thighs threaten to twitch closed, and when Taehyung notices this he tugs them over his shoulders, dragging you a little further to the edge of the bed. 
His thumb teases over your clit, thrumming at the sensitive little bud as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. The moan you let out is sure to have echoed down the halls, your embarrassment only amplified when you feel another dribble of slick gush past your walls, sure to coat Taehyung’s chin shiny. 
“M’ gonna cum” you hiccup, hips frantically bucking upwards as Taehyung further smothers his face into your pussy. 
He hums, a new wave of arousal coursing through your body at the unexpected vibrations. 
It’s a haphazard flick of your clit that has you tumbling head first into your orgasm, thighs quivering as they clamp around Taehyung’s head, though that doesn’t seem to deter him as he licks into your cunt, swallowing down your release. 
“S’ too much” you sob, hands pushing your lover from between your thighs. He kisses your knee, head flopping across your leg as he looks up at you. 
Your stomach clenches at the dopey smile on his face, thumb running over his bottom lip, still shiny with your arousal. 
“Are you tired, my love?” he asks, fingers curling around your wrists, kissing your palm, then the tips of each finger. 
You shake your head, “I can still go if you’d like” 
“This isn’t about me, it’s about you”
You swallow, unexplainable love swelling inside your chest. 
“Please make love to me” you whisper, pink hue deepening in shade on your cheeks as Taehyung stands at full height, shucking off whatever clothes he still had on. 
You can’t help but wet your lips, watching as he runs a gentle hand over his length, slicking his cock up with pearly beads of precome. 
You push yourself up further on the bed, legs falling open as Taehyung kneels before you. 
He runs a finger through your folds, barely dipping a fingertip inside of you before he’s pulling out, pushing your thighs further apart. 
He guides his cock to your entrance, slicking the head with your cum before he’s gently pushing into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, cunt clenching around Taehyung’s length as he gently rocks into you. 
He groans, barely pulling out before feeding you another inch. His hands roam up the length of your body as he finally bottoms out, hips rutting into you by habit. 
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss which he melts into, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head, tongue teasing over the seam of your lips. 
He licks up into your mouth, concoction of your saliva clinging to his tongue when he pulls back. 
“Ready?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mmhmm” you hum, muscles falling lax as Taehyung pushes your thighs up to your chest. He almost pulls out, the air punched from your lungs as he snaps back into you. 
Unabashed, you moan, Taehyung’s name tumbling from your lips like it were the only word you knew as he thrusts into you. 
It’s wet when Taehyung’s thighs meet your ass, sticky with arousal that clings to both your skin and moans a harmony with one another. 
Your hand snakes down the length of your body, between your thighs, teasing over your clit as Taehyung throws his head back, utterly consumed by unadulterated pleasure. 
“Together” he groans, hips losing their calculated pace. 
His cockhead nudges over your sweet spot, a whine dripping off your lips that Taehyung catches, kiss messy, teeth clashing. 
You pick up the pace on your clit, fizzling pleasure slipping down your spine, slick gushing from your hole, so many feelings, so many emotions– all amplified as endorphins buzz at your brain, a shockwave of dopamine setting you alight.   
You feel Taehyung twitch between your walls, your pussy clenching sporadically around his length as he nears his orgasm. 
Taehyung tips over the edge before you do, creamy white cum painting your walls in thick ropes. Your own orgasm following as you feel another wave of Taehyung’s seed flood your cunt. 
His hips twitch as you continue to clench around him, pushing his release further into you. 
Your chest stutters as you try and catch your breath, fingers splayed over your mound as you fall back into reality. 
Your moan as Taehyung pulls out, a hiccup following as he presses a kiss to your cheek. His fingers gather up the dribble of cum that follows his cock, pushing it back inside of you. And you twitch at that, overstimulated. 
He reaches behind your head for a pillow, your thighs falling to the bed, to which Taehyung tuts. 
“Lift your hips up for me, darling” he soothes, singular hand gathering both your ankles, pulling the lower half of your body from the mattress so he can slip the pillow underneath you. 
“You’d look awfully pretty baring my child” his hand trails down your stomach, over your womb. 
“I hope this time we are lucky” you tell him, finger interlacing with the ones over your stomach. 
“Me too, my love. Our child would be the most precious little thing” 
You smile, eyes slipping shut as you paint the image of what your baby would look like, “I hope they look like you” 
“I’d always wished they’d look like you. Their mother holds all the beauty of this cruel world” 
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, “Then how about they look like the both of us, as their father shares all of that beauty” 
“That would be wonderful” Taehyung pushes himself off the bed, slipping on a robe that had been forgotten on one of the chairs that morning. 
“What if they aren’t a boy?” your hands fall over your chest, watching Taehyung as he gathers the bowl of water and towels. 
He turns to look at you, “What would it matter if they were a girl?” his eyebrows furrow. 
“Wouldn’t you need an heir” 
He wets his bottom lip, “Boy or girl, I’m not bothered, my love. If we were to have a son then I would never subject them to the horrors of becoming heir. And if we have a precious little daughter, I would love her all the same, and if one day she decides she wants to take over the estate then I would let her” 
The corners of your lips tug up into a smile, “Then I am glad” Your hand finds his as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, dipping the towel into water, gently dragging it over your sweat-slicked skin. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Falling in love with Taehyung had made you a lot of things. 
Juvenile had never been on top of that list, though when you think about it, it really should have been. Or that somewhere written in the fine print of your story, neither of you would die, that you’d both freeze in time and continue your lives for the rest of eternity. 
Some days when you’d sit alone, you wish Monet had been around during your life with Taehyung. His paintings as beautiful as the love you shared. Paintings full of purpose, the world through the eyes of a man– impressionist paintings that had so much raw colour, so much more vibrance than the real world. 
You wish he’d have been able to put paint to canvas, where every gentle stroke of his brush was a piece of stupid, young naivety put into breath-taking art. Meaningful, purposeful, and beautiful. Because your ignorance would have made a beautiful collection, a series of a time when the future wasn’t as perfect as his art. Bringing both you and your lover to downfall. 
Your life was not the art of Monet, nor was it as mesmerising as Van Gogh’s Starry Night. You weren’t frozen in time like you were part of history, forever documented on paper and hung for the world to see. 
You were naive enough to think that with Taehyung’s new rise to power, somewhat unexpected in high society, he wouldn’t have one or two enemies. 
The end of your first life hadn’t been what you had wanted it to be. 
As much as you remember the day you had gotten married or all the afternoons you and Taehyung had spent in the garden, dancing in the rain, under rainbows and the sun that peeked through the clouds, there to celebrate your love just as much as the both of you were; what was supposed to be the perfect ending like all the far-fetched stories Taehyung read, this was more of a tragedy. 
Because that’s what it was– farfetched. 
You remember the afternoon that the perfect life you had, had crumbled. Sand slipping through your fingers, falling to the bottom of the hourglass. 
You lay on the couch, your foot tapping against the arm, Taehyung’s quil tinking against the bottle of ink. In recent months you’d found yourself reading Taehyung’s favourite books, all of their spines worn down, loved and read over and over. 
“Do you smell that?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, the book laid over your lap. 
“Smell what, my darling?” he takes off his glasses, hand running over his tired eyes. 
Your eyes meet Tae’s, “Something smells as though it’s burning” 
The both of you sit in silence for a moment before Taehyung pushes his chair back, peering out the window. His fingers try and pull at the latch, finding it stuck, and he turns back to you. 
“Maybe I’m imagining it” you tell him when you see his eyebrows furrow. 
“I can definitely smell something” he turns back to you, “I can’t tell what. Go and call someone to open this window, it’s jammed”
Your book is dropped onto the couch as you push yourself up, you go to open the door to Taehyung’s office, only for the door not to open. You push a little harder, shoulder knocking uncomfortably against the hardwood. 
You press an ear to the door. 
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, stalking towards you. 
“It won’t open” 
Taehyung makes a noise from the back of his throat, and you step out of the way when he takes hold of the door handle. 
He mirrors your earlier action, shoulder knocking against the door. 
“It won’t open” he turns to you. 
“I know, my love” A gentle smile moulds onto your lips. 
You press your ear to the door again, “Do you hear that?” 
Taehyung follows; ear pressed to the door, “Burning?” 
“Burning?” you stand straight. 
You crouch down, fingers feeling over the gap between the floor and door, “Hello?” you call out, hand flinching away as heat licks over your fingers. 
“Is anyone there?” Taehyung shouts, fist banging against the door. 
“Taehyung” you tug at his shirt, trying to pull him away from the door. He relents, taking a step forwards, “Taehyung, it’s a fire” You take his hand. 
“What?” 
“It’s a fire” You show him your fingertips, hands shaking slightly as the reality of what was happening settles in. 
“You’re hurt” he murmurs, “If one of the staff would just answer we could treat your wounds” his lips barely brush over the burn. 
“Taehyung it’s barely an injury, not when we’re locked in here with a fire right outside that door” 
He swallows, “We’ll find a way out” 
“How?” you dare ask, “We can’t go out the window, that’s suicide from this high up” 
His foot taps against the floor, hand running over his jaw in thought. 
Your focus is snatched away from your lover when something creaks, burning flames slithering under the crack under the door, molten snakes with no goal in mind. 
Taehyung pulls you further into his office, the door crackling as the flames start to chew it up, an onslaught of heat spilling into the room. You can smell the gasoline, splintered wood glistening in it as the door creaks off its hinges, flinging the fire further into the office, and you watch as it singes over the carpet. 
The flames dance before you, a mesmerising dance, crawling up the walls, heated footsteps stalking across the rug, heady puffs of carbon monoxide smoking into the air. 
Your hand flies to cover your mouth when a thin wisp of smoke slips down your windpipe, tickling your throat and searing at the inside of your lungs. 
Taehyung pulls you into his chest as you back into the wall furthest away from the fire, “It’s going to be okay” he heaves, his own hand covering his nose and mouth, dry cough spluttering past his lips. 
Your eyes squeeze shut as the fire slinks closer to the both of you, dangerously close, teasing as it flicks at your ankles, its amble arms chewing up the bookcases, rage only amplifying with each novel it consumes. 
You catch sight of a silhouette standing outside the office, body veiled by thick flames that continue to slink into the office. Another splash of gasoline only makes it burn brighter, sweat tickling the back of your neck. 
Your arms slip around Taehyung’s waist, and he helps you both sit on the ground, arms now holding your shoulders. A lame attempt at holding you away from the blazing fire that creeps closer. 
Your lungs can’t seem to get enough oxygen, panic setting into your bones as you heave for a full breath. Your eyes water as you choke on what should have been a rush of oxygen, only your lungs burn with the ash that settles inside of you, clinging to your windpipe– coating the inside of your mouth. 
“Try not to–” Taehyung coughs, hand lifting to clasp around his throat, cheeks flushing a deep red “-breathe it in too much– cyanide” 
A yelp gets caught in your throat as the flames flicker too close to you, singing the hem of your dress. You try and kick it away, hand flapping down to make sure the fire doesn’t chew at any more of your clothing. You try to ignore the prickly burn to your bare skin, eyes squeezing shut as you try and curl in on yourself to make you smaller. 
You tug on Taehyung’s shirt, dry cough lurching your body forward that Taehyung tries to catch only to heave. 
“I love you” you whisper, the both of you cornered. Nowhere to run. 
The figure stood outside the office long gone, fire now out of their control. A wild beast that had no plans of stopping until it had chewed and gnawed at your home, until it had nothing to fuel it anymore, leaving behind piles of ash and broken dreams– charred bodies and guilty minds to the ones who had started this. 
You flinch backwards when Taehyung’s desk folds in on itself, flames spitting out its joy as the planks of wood slowly char under the heat; a warning for your own destiny. 
His fingers lace into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you into him, “And I love you. When the both of us are reborn, I will find you, and we can fall in love all over again” he manages, the flames looking like hellish wings behind his back, slowly licking at his shirt, sizzling the fabric– more chemicals sifting through the air and into your fragile lungs. 
Taehyung curls further into you when the fire licks at his shoes, easily chewing through the leather, deft fingertips tracing up his legs, and over his body.
“Don’t say that” Your fingers loosen their grasp on his shirt as you heave for another breath, mind entirely gone as you spin, the world spinning with you. Your brain felt as though it were being flushed out with helium, pressure so much you think it might explode. 
Your eyes squeeze shut.
And when you open again, Jimin’s there. 
His eyes still wide with shock. 
You feel bile rise up your throat at the sight of him, blood smeared across his perfect face, puncture still oozing red from his neck soaking through his shirt fully. Your floor is in no better shape, though you think there's as much of your own blood as there is his. 
“Jimin?” you whisper, vision momentarily veiled by salty tears that fall down your cheeks like pitiful pearls, mixing with the crimson the drips from a gash in your head, dull ache migrating to behind your eyes. 
“Jimin you have to wake up now. Please” 
He doesn’t move, not when you hear footsteps from the other room– heavy boots that clatter against old wood– not when you call his name. Not when the front door creaks closed and the world is silent once more, or when your chest stutters out another breath and you feel another wave of blood gush out of your stomach, adding to the puddle below the both of you. 
“Jimin” you call again, choking on your own sob, fists balling up, “Jimin, please don’t leave me. I’m scared” 
You look into his eyes. Nothing. All signs of life spilt onto the floor. 
In a sick and twisted way, you’re glad Jimin had gone before you. 
You’d have hated it if he had to watch you dead on the bedroom floor while he slowly follows you. At least now you could be with him a little longer, even if you couldn’t tell him goodbye for the last time. Or tell him how much you love him, or how happy he’d made you, or how grateful you are. 
So many words left unsaid, that you swallow back down with a sob. And they mix with the bile that singes your throat, so close to spilling onto the puddle of red as you make eye contact with your dead lover. 
You drag your body through the blood on the floor, closer until your chest is pressed against Jimin’s and your body falls lax against him, arm slung over his side. 
You press the palm of your hand against your open wound, what little hope you had left inside of you, the smallest voice whispering that maybe you could survive. Though somewhere deeper down you know that your soul will soon follow Taehyung’s, and now Jimin's too. 
You push your head into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, tangy, metallic blood staining your lips as you kiss over the tainted skin. 
He was still warm, skin still very much his as your fingers skim over his back. Ever so gentle as though he would crack if you weren’t careful. And you would have gathered him up in your arms if you’d had the strength. 
And at that final moment when it settles within your mind and your heart that your body can no longer hold onto the slither of life still inside of you– the easing thump of your heart mellowing inside your chest. You remember the little note Jimin left on his pillow for you to wake up to that morning. 
“When you and I hug, our hearts are locked behind our ribcages and touch through our skin. Always beating in sync. And for as long as my heart beats beside yours, it will belong to you. For those moments we part, perhaps it falls out of sync, and when we reunite, my heart may just be reminded who it beats for. And we will be in sync once more ♡’
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☆゚ thank you for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated, and please let me know what you think!!
permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc
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aylasology · 6 months
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Silk Chiffon
New girl!soft!reader, probably even fairy!reader but we'll never know. Also, Max cameo!! Reader is referred to as angel :)
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Robin Buckley is down BAD. Shot through the heart. Completely enamored. Under Aphrodite's love spell. And it's all because of the new girl in town.
The new girl who always wore warm colors, the new girl with highlighters on her cheekbones, the new girl who rambled about movies and fairies as if she was one, the new girl Robin Buckley fell in love with.
In pink sandals, a white maxi skirt, and a pink graphic tee of Alice in Wonderland, she walked in Family Video a few months before. Gaining attention from the other girl so quickly as Max was seen swinging next to her. Max was talking about something, she's never seen the girl this talkative, but the angel who walked next to her listened attentively. Nodding and letting out small "mhm" 's as they walked through the store.
"Hi, how can I help you?" Robin managed to croak out the minute the two girls reached the counter. Max holding a copy of the princess bride. Taking in the angel's features, her cheeks blushed pink. She had to be an angel somehow, right? With her soft features and her soft smile, nothing seemed to rival the kind of beauty this angel possessed.
"Just ring this up for us please," she smiled, and Robin swore she heard angels hum through her ears as the angel's pretty voice sinked in. She felt her cheeks blush pink as the girl smiled. How is it possible that someone could be that cute?
She did as instructed, trying so hard not to acknowledge Steve's obvious teasing in the background. And that was how it worked every week. The pretty angel walking into family video to return and buy a new tape, Max swinging by her side. It was either some rom-com Robin would hear her babble about as she looked for it inside the store, or a horror movie Max wanted the angel to see.
And while Max searched the store for a new tape, the angel would stand by the counter, creating small talk with Robin. The angel would ask about movies, asking what genres she was into and Robin would answer in a heartbeat. The angel spoke in a way that was so comforting, a sense of peace coursing through Robin's veins that didn't cause her to stutter and panic.
She was a nerd, an introverted one but she was never ashamed of her interests. She was into mythology and fantasy, more specifically fairies and there was this sort of glint into her eyes and a sense of happiness when she talked about it.
And as if Max would be any help, everytime they'd meet without the angel, Max would only talk about her more.
"She lives in a trailer park next to me, and I swear she's so cool!" Max would babble, talking about the angel with so much excitement. "She talks about fairies and angels as if she was one!" she would add.
"You know she does seem cool," Steve would reply. "Why don't we invite her the next time you guys wanna hang out?" Steve added, nudging Robin as her ears perked up.
Her brain short-circuited, did she hear that right? They'd spend time with her? She'd be a part of their friend group? DID SHE HEAR THAT RIGHT????
And that was how they spent the next week after that, the whole gang hanging over El's house with movies and popcorn, all in pajamas for a sleepover.
"Gee, thanks for letting me crash your slumber party." She said with a smile as she stood by the front porch. She wore pajamas with little pink hearts all over it, a Tupperware with red velvet cookies inside. "I made these as a thank you," she chirped, her voice welcoming and comforting to Robin's ears.
She fit into the group quite well, smiling and nodding as they talked. She didn't talk much, and Robin felt that maybe all that talking was reserved for her. Who knows? Maybe she was just feeding her own delusions.
And as everyone dozed asleep on the couch, Robin was still awake, Steve's head resting on her shoulder. She looked up at the couch. The angel wide awake as she crouched by the corner. Knees bended as the other kids took up most of the space.
The angel looked at her, lips pursed to a smile as she noticed that she wasn't the only one awake. And before Robin could think, she said.
"You wanna get out of here for awhile?"
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monstershowdowns · 1 year
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WHAT IS THIS? IS THIS THE SOUND OF NIGHTMARES EMERGING?!
Monster enjoyers from all over the world, welcome to the Great Monster Showdown of 2023! 64 monsters, but only ONE can be the winner! Who will win the crown? YOU decide!
Our competitors are organised in 4 teams of 16 monsters each: Team Blood, Team Mystery, Team Flesh, and Team Teeth! As much as I would have enjoyed to make these names actually make sense, they don't! I just threw them in because I color-coded the names for better readability and thought it would look cool.
Also, I didn't use images because this would be way harder to read than it already is.
Below, an image ID of the bracket, along explanations of who came from what and some rules! Ignore that there's two "Slimes" competitors in here, they're from completely different medias. Now:
IMAGE ID:
A 64 character bracket. Below, our competitors:
TEAM BLOOD:
The Beast from Beauty and the Beast vs The Asset from The Shape of Water
Slimes from Slime Rancher vs The Monster from A Monster Calls
Pyramid Head from Silent Hill vs Sniffles from Happy Three Friends
Mothman the cryptid vs Greymon from Digimon
Every single Pokemon vs Medusa from Greek Mythology
Zoe from Monster Prom vs Rem and Ryuk from Death Note
Helen and Michael from TMA vs The Other Mother from Coraline
Slenderman from the internet horror vs Venom from the movie Venom
TEAM MYSTERY:
Mimics from Dragon quest vs Undyne from Undertale
Sirenhead the internet horror vs Galeem from Super Smash Bros Ultimate
Werewolves from folklore vs Dugon from Just Roll With It, Riptide
Clickers from TLoU vs King Crawler from Omori
Preeminent from Ninjago vs Nessie the cryptid
Mitzutsune from Monster Hunter vs Pennywise from It
The Rake from creepypasta vs Bendy from BATIM and BATDR
TEAM FLESH:
Godzilla and Mothra from the movies vs Woodcrawlers from Gemini Home Entertainment
Kraken from folklore and mythology vs Jabberwocky from Alice In Wonderland
The Bear from Anihilation vs SCP-682 from the SCP Foundation
Goliath from Gargoyles vs Barclay from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty
Draculaura and Ghoulia Yelps from Monster High vs King from The Owl House
Damien LaVey from Monster Prom vs Discord from MLP
TEAM TEETH:
Fresno Nightcrawler the cryptid vs The Death Angels from A Quiet Place
Jersey Devil the cryptid vs Slimes from Dragon Quest
Francoeur from A Monster In Paris vs Enderman from Minecraft
Necrodeus from Kirby Mass Attack vs Xenomorph from Alien
Adam Frankenstein from Frankenstein vs Summerween Trickster from Gravity Falls
SCP-999 from the SCP Foundation vs Akanin from Turma da Mônica Jovem/Mônica's Gang Teen
Cthulhu from The Call of Cthulhu vs The Thing from The Thing
END IMAGE ID
Once gain, the team thing means nothing, and it's only there to facilitate navigation and readability. Some things:
Tournamente will begin on the 20th of March, with the polls from Team Blood being released! You will have 3 whole days to vote.
Propaganda is free and should be tagged as #monsterpropaganda. Putting other competitors down to make your own monster look better is not allowed, however.
Happy monster showdown!
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danjaley · 2 months
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Das Leben der Hochgräfin Gritta von Rattenzuhausbeiuns
My favourite book in elementary school (and I still like it today)
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In my last book post I wrote that I first heard of Anne of Green Gables when the girl who bullied me in elementary school presented it as her favourite book. So I thought I might show you the book I held my presentation about.
Das Leben der Hochgräfin Gritta von Rattenzuhausbeiuns (The Life of Gritta, High Countess of Ratsareathomewithus) is a fairy-tale-novel by Gisela von Arnim. It was written in the 1840s but only rediscovered and published in the 20th century. It was adapted as a screenplay and simplified children's book by GDR author Christa Kożik. This was the version I read aged eight and loved to pieces. I also saw the film once, but I didn't love it as much as the book. It has some very good songs, I remember.
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The story is about Gritta, a girl countess who lives with her father, an inventor, at their run-down castle some time in the 18th century. She loves to read and she's friends with the Queen of the rats which populate the castle in abundance. One day a runaway spoiled noblewoman takes refuge with them and Gritta's father falls head over heels in love with her. They marry and Gritta is sent to a horrid convent school. There she discovers a plot: Young girls are sent to the convent. Once they're there, the nuns find ways to grab their inheritance and keep the girls locked away. This was the fate her stepmother ran away from. Together with ten of her friends Gritta escapes from the convent.
Here the two versions take slightly different paths. In the modern one, the girls live at an abandoned farm for one summer until they return to their homes. Gritta proceeds to the capital city, where she finds her family again. They've lost their remaining money and have gone to sell an invention to the king: A catapult throne that will save him in case of revolution. A twist that you rarely meet and I really loved: Poverty and the birth of a son have turned Gritta's spoiled stepmother into quite a responsible and likeable person and she apologizes for her behaviour. Gritta had already met the king's son while she was on the run. He smuggles her into the palace of his naive and gluttonous father. There she reveals to him the doings of the corrupt royal advisor, who is also at the bottom of the convent's plot.
While this was a quick summary of the simplified version, the original runs absolutely wild. After the girls escape the convent, they go on an adventurous journey, which becomes increasingly fantastical. Some episodes seem prototypical of Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz. Finally they get shipwrecked and build up a new life. But their "lonely island" is in fact a valley near the capital. Here the story in which Gritta reunites with her family and saves the kingdom comes back in. In the end the girls set up an alternative convent according to their own rules. Except for Gritta, who in this version actually marries the prince and refurbishes the kingdom, but of course stays their friend.
I think if I'd read this as a child I would have loved that the focus stays on Gritta's girl-gang. They have so many more adventures here. I always thought the modernized story dismissed them too quickly. Not sure what I would have made of the fanciful nature of their adventures. One of my favourite characters today is Wildebeere (Wildberry), one of the girls, who starts out as a botanist, but is later adopted by wood-elves and becomes a sort of forest spirit. And I'd certainly have struggled with the over-the-top 19th century language. Though that makes up the poetry of it.
I've kinda outgrown the modernized version today. As a historian I can't help noticing the GDR mindframe. Indeed the original was written before the 1848 revolution and pokes some acid fun at absolutist monarchy, aristocracy and the church. That's the most likely reason it wasn't published. But the adaptation presents the messages rather bluntly - to children who don't have the foggiest idea what were the problems in 1848.
On a related note, I feel today that the modern book made Gritta a bit too sassy. She's much more gentle in the old one and as so often this clashes in scenes where she's supposed to be insecure. Some scenes actually get funnier with her acting all demure, like the one where she locks the king in a cupboard. Also, I'm all for the concept of becoming an independent spirit through reading. But as a book-historian I can tell that you don't become a cheeky kid by reading a library full of 18th-century books.
What also fascinates me today is the story how Gritta was rediscovered in the archives in the 20th century. The manuscript had been scattered over several bequests and wrongly attributed to Gisela's famous mother Bettine von Arnim. I kinda envy the guy who pieced it together. But I should be content with my lot, because that's exactly the sort of thing I'm doing in my PhD project right now.
Actually this book relates to the McCarrics in two very peculiar ways: For one thing, Gisela von Arnim was the great-granddaughter of Sophie von la Roche, after whom I named Marianne's family.
Then, according to my mother, my first two stories ever were two endless nonsensical serials I always updated her on, aged around three. The first was called The Lady of the Rats' Castle. Sadly I don't remember anything about it and my mother says it didn't have any rememberable plot. Possibly she bought me Gritta because of it.
The other was called The very Elegant Scottish Girl. I remember I started this one because I loved my red tartan skirt and my father had told me that in Scotland everyone is always dressed in tartan, even the men! So I thought this country must be the epicentre of nobility and elegance. I just love that these two titles still reflect my literary activities to the present day.
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mylovelybutler-786 · 1 year
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— ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴜᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀ?
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— “𝐓𝐞𝐚 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦?”
Links ⇝ Masterlist, DDD Special
Requesting:
≛ I write Headcanons, shorts, And scenarios
≛ When requesting I'll take up to five characters for Headcanons and Scenarios! I'll only take up to one character (unless it’s a Polly relationship request) at a time for Shorts!
≛ Please be a bit patient when requesting! I'll usually go in order in writing, so if I have lots of requests yours might take a while
≛ I only do Male and Gender neutral readers (sorry ladies)
≛ Whenever requesting smut with me, please be as detailed as you can, I do have a bit of trouble writing when all I have is " Character x reader smut". It won't be my highest priority when writing/ I’ll skip it if I don’t have any ideas for it
_____________
What I will write
☆ Character x reader, Poly relationship, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Male readers, Gender neutral reader, Trans reader, Afab characters, Female characters, Sub Top reader/ Dom top reader, Sub Bottom reader/ Dom bottom reader, Male character, platonic relationships, killing, Con-non-Con, Con
What I won’t write:
☆ Suicide, Female readers, self-harm, Oc x character, Character x Character, HUGE Age-gaps, Abusive characters x reader
Kinks I will write
☆ Rough/soft sex, Face sitting, Breeding kink, Sex toy use, Praising/ Humaltion, Somophilia, Overstimution, Mutipule rounds, Sir/Master kink (etc.), Dress up (maid dress, Lingerie, cosplay, skirt), Feminization, Deep throating, Cream pie, Under the influence (Only in Con-non-con), Semi-public sex, Free use (Only in Con), Threesome, Size different, Tummy bulge, Marking, and most likely anything else that isn't on the won't write!
Kinks I will not write
☆ Rape/ non-con, Female reader, any smut with characters under the age of 17, Incest (Maybe Step-cest), Pedophile, vore/gore, gang bang, monster fucking, pregnancy kink, menstrual kink, any kinks relating to ejem, scat or necrophilia, Knife/blood kink, vomit/piss kink
_________________
Fandoms!
I'm like in over 90 fandoms but here are my tops! Please feel free to ask if I write for any fandom I haven’t written down here!
★ Blue Lock, Bungo stray dogs, Dr. Stone, Obey Me, Alice in Borderland, Tgcf, Twisted Wonderland, Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayers, Chainsaw Man, Genshin impact, One Piece, Black clover, Hell’s paradise, Blue eyed samurai, Sally face.
— 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧!
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tyrantisterror · 3 months
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Wizard School Mysteries: Book 1 Side Characters
Ok I'm 90% sure I've shared all of these sketches before but for funsies, let's look at some of the minor characters from book 1 of Wizard School Mysteries.
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We'll start with the four elemental experts of the AAAM's teaching staff. While I generally use the four humors theory as, like, a surface level detail for my students, I tried to make the four teachers who specialize in the elements really live up to it, witch each teacher sporting the personality traits associated with the humor that corresponds to their elements. Lymf Splenik is a sadsack melancholic, Sulfrous Bladgal is cantankerous as befitting a choleric, Arturiel Haemoglobe is free-spirited and sanguine, and Mewcosa Glycocet is sweet but extremely emotional, as a phlegmatic should be.
Their names, of course, play on this too. Mewcosa is a play on Mucus, Sulfrous's last name, Bladgal, is a corruption of "Gall bladder," which makes yellow bile, Artery = Arturiel and Hemoglobin = Haemoglobe, and Lymf = lymph nodes while spenik is a corruption of "spleen," which makes black bile.
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Professor Alys Evelina, teacher of Sorcery Studies, ends up serving as a secondary antagonist for books 1 and 2. Given how wild I went with making a lot of these side wizards explicitly monstrous, I decided to make Alys look excessively normal, even attractive, to not play into the "ugly = evil" trope. Don't read too much into the Alice in Wonderland motiff - while Alys and Alice both share a general disdain for things that are don't make sense to them, Alice Liddel is a much more likable character.
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We don't get to see much of Alys's rival, Broomhilda Siegfried, but I still wanted to put some effort into her design anyway. She's meant to visually contrast Alys in the ways that Conjuration contrasts to Sorcery - notably, she's a lot shorter and hides her face, to go with the fact that Conjurers are kind of looked down upon by sorcerers. She's not keen on how her magic is viewed as the "lesser" of the two main ways to be a wizard.
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They might not all get named, but we do see a lot of the non-educator staff in the first two books as well. Astrae Bygonn, the bugbear who runs the AAAM's Lost and Found, plays a pretty important role for how little screen time he gets. Esmer the gargoyle is named, while Quasi and Modo go uncredited in their roles as the two gargoyles working the school dance that starts the climax of Book 1. I think Ralda might only have showed up in book 2, but what the hell let's include her here anyway. And of course the janitorial homunculi are always on the fringers, being gloppy, helpful little guys maintaining all the school's functions.
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Though they don't feature heavily in the story, both Ambrosio Medina (the alchemy professor) and Curdletongue (the prophecy professor) have named cameos in book 1, and they'll have slightly more important roles later on. Ambrosio is specifically meant to resemble Vincent Price, as I wanted him to have that charming yet slimy quality to him that Price so often brought to his roles.
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I wanted the school to feel full, so I had my friends in the writers workshop discord I'm in pitch loose concepts for wizard students so I could have, like, a few dozen to pick from whenever I needed a background extra. Eventually we sorted them all loosely into the minor arcana of Tarot, and then expanded it to include some of the arcana from Minchiate, a card game very similar to Tarot that might be a parody of it? We were having fun making wizard students, what can I say.
Mugre Repellus was pitched by @bugcthulhu while Bartholomew Crawson was pitched by @dragonzzilla, and both of them went the extra mile to do some concept art too, which I adapted into these designs. They were two of the earliest spare wizard students we made, and we grew a bit attached to them - and since they both had claws on their arms, they were unofficially named "the claw gang" despite only having two members. Then, because it was fun, I made Shere Statchell to be their third member, the Jessie to their Team Rocket, and the Claw Gang became a sort of quirky trio who we kept making fun side stories for while working on the rest of the Spare Wizard Kids.
The joke was fun enough to keep going, to the point where I've made them recurring background extras and cameo characters in the series. What can I say, I love the Claw Gang.
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Of course, another reason I needed a big ol' bucket of Spare Wizard students is that this is a mystery series, and mysteries need victims. I warned all my friends sending me pitches not to get too attached, because some of these kids were gonna die.
I'm a firm believer that a character's death should serve a purpose, though. You can kill a random one-off character for a gag, but if a character actually has, like, stuff going on, their death should have some weight to it. And book 2 needed at least one death that we felt - a side character who we liked enough to be sad to see go.
I picked Gabriev because his concept pitch - a wizard who also wants to be a chivalric knight - felt easy to make likable very quickly. Possibly a bit of personal bias - I'm a suck for knights in shining armor - but all you really need to do is make him nice and profess his desire to be a hero who goes out and does good, and suddenly that untimely death he's facing seems tragic.
Buuuut, if you do that too hurriedly, it'll be obvious he's set up to die - akin to having an old character say "I'm two days away from retirement" in a monster movie. Gabriev had to be seeded subtly, so audiences think he might have a future ahead of him.
So I put him in book 1, as a nice but not terribly prominent background extra in one of the main classes the kids attend in it, so readers might remember him and assume he's just a recurring extra like the Claw Gang. Ain't I devious?
Gabriev Zelgad's design and name is another Slayers reference. His armor is based on Gourry Gabriev (who is also obviously the source of his first name), and his last name is just another Slayers character, Zelgadis, without the "is." Like Gourry, he's a beautiful blond young man who's a bit of a ditz, and like Zelgadis, he suffers horribly tragedy.
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Before I started the Spare Wizard Student project, I made a handful of supporting cast wizard students based on alternative names for various Major Arcana cards. Liam O'Sullivan here is based on The Lust, which is what Aleister Crowley renamed The Strength to in his Tarot deck, because of course he would, the horny old bastard. I initially didn't want to use that as a prompt because, like, what the fuck would that character end up being, WSM's take on Mineta? But then one of my friends joked I could just make him another take of the running gag I have in my TTRPG campaigns of introducing side characters who are deeply unflattering caricatures of myself that inexplicably end up in relationships with hot, terrifying goth women, and I smiled wickedly and said, "Oh you dumb bastard, that's canon now."
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...which ended up being a godsend, because it gave me a way to introduce The Queen of Night, a minor character who's nonetheless important to book 1's mystery, as romancing her is the goal of the true antagonist. Sometimes torturing a specific part of your audience accidentally leads to a useful story beat.
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Mr. Mackers is another minor fairy character who I wanted to use to show that Midgaheim does not work on the "Seelies = good fairies and Unseelies = bad fairies" trope, and also that it doesn't follow the "all fairies are explicitly evil eldritch horrors" trope that's becoming increasingly common as a "more true to the myths" approach. The mythic Nuckelavee is explicitly evil, to be fair, but not all fairies are, and I figured taking a fairy that's popular in internet culture for being so damn creepy and monstrous and having it be a relatively nice guy was a good way to subvert the modern expectations of what fairies should be - and try and stay true to the general mythological approach to fairies, which is that fairies are complex, not just good or evil.
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Finally, we have good ol' Lornwig Kayjay, no relation to any children's book authors who decided to be figureheads for hategroups that specifically bully trans people. My rough concept for Lornwig was "that kid you get in at least one college class a semester who deliberately antagonizes the professor and every other student in class," because dear god you always get at least one class with a That Kid in it. The worst I ever endured was my class on Environmental Studies, because we had THREE That Kids in there. My second worst was the graduate class I took on Medieval Literature About Hell, because despite my best efforts, I was the That Kid of that class. It's a weird phenomenon.
As pre-writing chugged along and a certain children's book author became more prominently deranged, I decided Lornwig could get some theming outside of her role as a That Kid. And, you know, she's not the only That Kid I have planned. There's different flavors of That Kid, you know.
While Lornwig's role as a minor antagonist doesn't leave a lot of room for depth, I tried to give her a consistent philosophy behind her douchebaggery. She likes order and categorization, and things fitting into neat and tidy groups that you can sort into "Good" and "Bad" categories. That's a very human mindset - not a good one, but a very human one nonetheless. And she lives in a world of dangerous magical monsters, she does have some reasons to be scared and paranoid.
But mostly, she's That Kid.
Next time: minor characters of book 2!
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lafemmemacabre · 1 year
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I need normies to understand that a lot of subcultures don't derive their names in straightforward ways. Some do, like metalheads and rivetheads -- and even then most of you are... Extremely ignorant on it anyway. The amount of times I've had to explain to people that "emo" comes from "Emocore" which is a shortened version of "Emotional Hardcore Punk" is astounding -- but a lot of the time it's not like that.
Sure goths are labelled goths AND a lot of our subcultural sensitivities are derived from gothic literature and we think gothic architecture fucking rules but also? Neither the literature genre nor the architecture are where we got the name from.
We got the name through an internal joke between artists that are now considered goth, about how Andi Sex Gang from Sex Gang Children was a ridiculous gothy troll too obsessed with the macabre who lived in a building literally called the Visigoth Towers, so if he was a goth, then his fans were goths too.
Even then, the label "goth" was a pejorative when it first spread and most of our iconic bands hated being called that because they associated "goth" with the tackier, less serious contemporary bands that they considered basically low brow campy horror fanservice for losers obsessed with old and bad horror movies (Specimen, Alien Sex Fiend, and so on) while they were Serious Musicians just going through a Tormented Artist phase. There's a reason why Dinah Cancer from 45 Grave (a campy, "low brow", horror fanservice band) embraced the goth label immediately (and still does), while many of her contemporaries from more "serious" bands didn't and to this day won't.
Now, going back to the lolita subculture:
Do Americans realize that American literature classics aren't classics everywhere? Each cultural region and even country has its own literature classics. I wasn't made to read Mark Twain or Hemingway in school because I'm Chilean. I was forced to read Don Quixote, some people were also forced to read El Mio Cid, I had to suffer through fucking Subterra. I had to read María Luisa Bombal, García Márquez, Marcela Paz, and many, many others. AND I'M SOMEONE FROM A CULTURE THAT SHARES AN ALPHABET WITH THE ANGLOPHONE WORLD. Chilean culture is also undeniably more directly impacted by American culture than Japan is.
Lolita, the book, wasn't that old by the time the lolita subculture started, I'm going to assume it wasn't that widely known in Japan since it was relatively new in the US itself, and Japan has its own literature to occupy itself with. Not that there's no translations or that Japanese people don't read Western literature, of course they do, I can also easily find translated copies of The Great Gatsby if I go to any mainstream bookshop in Santiago, but what I'm saying is that books that are ubiquitous in the US cultural landscape aren't necessarily so everywhere else, much less in diametrically opposed geo-cultural areas that are highly culturally isolated, AND there's cultural influences in other countries that ARE ubiquitous in those countries that foreigners have no clue about. If any piece of Western literature has been greatly influential in the lolita fashion subculture it wasn't Nabokov's Lolita, but Alice in Wonderland, in part because lolita fashion's whole point was escaping sexualization.
I think we're all aware that Japanese pop culture, especially in anime, has a lot of issues with the sexualization of children (not like that's a problem unique to Japan but, whatever), BUT I think it's also pretty fucking racist or at least orientalist to perceive any embracing of childish cuteness as inherently sexual and pedophilic or otherwise perverse as soon as it comes from Japan (especially when the fashion itself literally has you covered from head to toe AND WAS DESIGNED PRECISELY TO ESCAPE BEING SEXUALIZED BY MEN, BY YOUNG GIRLS, NOT BY PEDOPHILIC MEN OR GROWN WOMEN WHO WANTED TO APPEAL TO THEM).
Stop talking about shit you don't know anything about with authority, for the love of fuck.
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story-telling · 5 months
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Hi there, I was wondering how you think the main gang of AMR would react to meeting the Disney versions of themselves?
How Alice madness returns characters would react to meeting their Disney versions🎀
Alice
She would be confused and a little concerned that she was hallucinating things once again. She would most likely ask for an explanation in a calm and quiet manner while still holding a stern grip on reality to ensure she doesn’t go mad. Once she has been aquatinted with the Disney Alice they would bond over their strange past and trips to wonderland and compare between each others. To Disney Alice, Madness returns Alice’s wonderland sounded more to be like a ghost story. Whereas the Disney Alice made hers sound like a proper wonderland. However very dramatised by the 7 year old
The Mad Hatter
He would absolutely freak out but most likely offer him tea after getting to know each other and understand more. I feel like the two of them would get on splendidly as they are both as mad as each other. They would sit and share biscuits and overall enjoy each others company meanwhile talking about the two Alice’s and the Disney’s Mad Hatter would teach him the unbirthday song but Madness Returns Hatter would get frustrated and call it off causing a small ruckus.
The Queen of Hearts
There’s no doubt about it those two would not get on in the slightest. They both want to rule over everything and the Disney’s Queen has too bad of a temper over Madness Returns Queen (Lizzie). They would exchange queries and comment on each other’s appearance and age etc but come to a stopping holt when the Disney’s Queen teaches Lizzie how to play croquet. All would be calm for a split moment until madness erupted once more when Lizzie can’t seem to get the hang of it and the Disney’s Queen loses her temper. They decide to go their separate ways
The Cheshire Cat
I feel like this one would be interesting because they are both sly but completely different. I feel like the Disney’s Cheshire would be excited to meet another talking cat and the Madness Returns Cheshire would happily make conversation with the pink and purple furball. There would be a few things Disney’s Cheshire would say that would make him raise an eyebrow once or twice but all in all they would have a very swift conversation. Mostly about their skills and Alice
The caterpillar
The caterpillars wouldn’t be too bothered by each other, I presume they would question who each other was (reference Included😌) and continue lounging about while smoking their hookah. I don’t believe there would be much more to it
The White Rabbit
I like to think that both of the White Rabbits run together shouting out “I’m late” until they reach to a stop and acquaint with one another. Madness Returns Rabbit would ask what the Disney’s White Rabbit does and he would explain that he works for the Queen of Hearts. They would bicker too and forth about the Queen but carry on as they was.
Tweedledum and Tweedledee
Let’s be honest here. Madness Returns Tweedles would most likely try brain drilling on the Disney Tweedles. And they would probably run away in fear 🤣😭 there’s nothing to that
Thank you so so much to whoever requested this!! I had a blast writing it 🩵
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