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#Sun and Moon were easy because they already had designs i could work with
bloo-the-dragon · 2 years
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Geggy Fish.
Bonus:
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celestial-toys · 1 year
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A Vivid Imagination
In today's story- you take a nap on the couch, and your favorite pair of pants give Sun an identity crisis. In other, somehow related news, he and Moon get caught up in thoughts of what they'd like to do to you.
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Pairing: Sun and Moon + Reader Word Count: 2,673 minors DNI - 18+ content below the cut
Contains: [sex] [threesome] [fingering] [afab!Reader] [sub!bottom!Reader] [implied null!Sun & Moon] [soft dom!top!Sun & Moon] [chubby / plus-size Reader] [Eclipse makes an appearance but not in the traditional sense] [Porn With Plot]
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Sun and Moon might be a little bit obsessed with getting you off.
Maybe a little bit.. addicted to how easy it is to make you cum, even with with nothing but their hands to work with. They can’t get enough of it.. it just does something to them. They’ll take any appropriate opportunity they can get to rile you up and bury their hands between your plush thighs, fingers sinking into your wet heat and homing in on the spots that make you whine for them.
You certainly don’t mind it in the slightest, and you’ve made that quite clear to them on multiple occasions. You’ve given them permission to play with you as much as they’d like, as long as they always remember to ask nicely first.
So, as Sun slinks his way through the house one evening, he finds you on the couch, apparently having fallen asleep. You’re sprawled cross it with your legs spread apart, eyes closed and head resting on one arm, finally relaxing after another long day in your office spent staring at that goddamned computer screen, and Sun’s mind is already wandering to ways he could help you relax even more.
You're wearing a soft, oversized black cowl neck sweater and a pair of those gaudy split-print clown pants that were supposed to look like a mix of the designs that their fictitious counterparts wore in-game. He feels a strange mix of emotions at the sight of you wearing “his” pants. He can’t tell if it’s possessiveness or jealousy but it’s mixing in with his sexual desire and his fans have to kick up a notch to keep his temperature stable. He wants to take them off of you for two very different reasons.
On one hand, they’re simply a barrier between him and what he desires. One that he’d like your permission to remove. While it was enjoyable sometimes to keep you clothed and have you grind yourself against him, begging, panting, and whining until you soaked them so thoroughly you’d have to take them off anyways.. it wasn’t quite as fun as having direct access to the most sensitive parts of you from the very start.
On the other hand, though.. the clown clothes also serve as a reminder of a number of other, much less exciting things. Sun remembers how he used to take the opportunity to mock them nearly every time you wore them, never really getting much more of a response from you than an eye roll in return, until one day when you’d apparently had enough and decided to tell him why you wore them so much.
-
“Sun, I’ve had these pants since long before I created you. When the two of you were nothing more than pixels on a screen and an insane pipe-dream in my mind, I would collect things that resembled the two of you. Because.. I mean.. who doesn’t collect merch of their favorite characters, right?”
He remembers the way you began to look embarrassed at the confession, but kept explaining nonetheless.
“I had no way of knowing at the time that one day you’d actually be standing here in my living room mocking me for them, but..”
You paused there, giving him a pointed look before continuing.
“..even if I had known that.. I probably would have still bought them anyways.”
At that, you looked down, running your hands down over the tops of your thighs, over the red and yellow stripes and the blue and yellow stars. Sun never forgot the look of fondness that graced your features as you did so. It made him feel something that he couldn’t name at the time.
Before he could come up with one of his signature snarky responses, you spoke again.
“It’s kind of funny, honestly. They also serve as a nice reminder of how far we’ve come. I wore them quite often during all those late nights I’d spend at work, fussing over the two of you, you know.”
Sun’s faceplate shifted a few clicks to the left, curious if you were about to drag him down a trip on Unpleasant Memory Lane. The expression on his screen changed, his default features fading to black and leaving nothing but his signature yellow smoke billowing across the screen. You knew him well enough at that point to know that that meant he wasn’t a fan of where the conversation was going. Sighing, you stopped yourself before you could get too far into all of that.
“Regardless of any of that.. these pants were here first, they’re comfortable as hell, and I happen to love the way your original designs looked. You’re gonna have to come up with a better reason than them being an eye sore for me to stop wearing them.”
You got up from where you’d been seated, walking over to him just to make a big, playful show out of poking him in the chest as you spoke.
“You know, lots of people would be flattered to see their partner wearing their clothes.”
Sun brought his eyes back from the void of his screen just to roll them at you, and his rays took one lazy spin around his faceplate before he responded.
“Those aren’t my clothes though. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in those things.”
You smiled up at him as you took a step back, and you took in the sight of all seven skinny feet of him before saying,
“Well, I can’t very well fit into your actual pants, now can I?”
You gestured to his impossibly tall, slender frame, and then to your much shorter and wider form before giving a dismissive laugh and returning to your prior spot on the couch. After a moment of standing there taking in your words, Sun finally decided to drop the subject.
-
Ever since then, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s wondered if.. underneath your jokes about your size differences.. if it actually bothered you that you couldn’t fit into most of their clothes.
He truly hopes that it doesn’t.
In spite of his relentless mocking of the iconic clown pants, nowadays part of him is actually glad that you have something to wear that feels like it’s theirs. He wants you to have something that reminds you of them.. both the (ridiculous) idea of them from the past, and the real-life version, standing here, zoned out in your living room today.
Before he can get any further carried away in his thoughts and memories, a notification flashes across his HUD.
[ 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. ]
[ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. ]
[ 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜? ]
Sun pulls his attention back into reality and his monitor silently rotates on it's axis, scanning the room. His optics quickly land on Moon, who is currently leaning against the doorframe leading in from the kitchen, arms crossed and looking at him expectantly.
Sun rolls his eyes in exaggerated annoyance and mirrors Moon’s stand-offish position, leaning back against the opposite wall.
[ 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕. ]
Moon smiles.
[ 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆? ]
[ 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙. 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕠𝕡-𝕦𝕡 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕦𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖. ]
It’s now Moon’s turn to roll his eyes.
[ 𝒐𝒉, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏, 𝑺𝒖𝒏. 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 6 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 39 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕. ]
[ 𝕚’𝕞 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. ]
[ 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘. 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊'𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 ******* 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒑.  ]
[ 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥? ]
[ 𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒕. ]
Sun lets out a loud, annoyed sigh, the first actual sound to break the silence in the room, and both bots look to your dozing form on the couch to see if it might have woken you. You don’t stir, and the tension slowly drops from Sun’s shoulders.
[ 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣. 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟? ]
Moon holds his hands up in mock surrender.
[ 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.. 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕.. 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆? ]
Sun doesn’t feel like explaining how your stupid clown pants nearly sent him into a spiral revisiting the complex history of his identity issues today, nor does he have the desire to drag Moon into it, so he tells a half-lie.
[ .. 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕓𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 *******’𝕤 𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗𝕗. ]
Moon’s expression shifts from one of concern into a look of confusion as he tries to make sense of why Sun had been standing there, looking so conflicted, if that’s really all that he’s been thinking about.
[ 𝒐𝒉 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚? 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍? ]
A few tense seconds pass before Sun responds.
[ 𝕞𝕙𝕞. ]
Moon doesn’t buy it for one second.
Still, he lets the lie slide for two reasons. For one, there’s no getting the truth out of Sun unless he actually wants to share it. The second reason, though.. is a bit more of a selfish one.
Sun isn’t the only one that wants to take your clothes off, and if he is willing to elaborate on his supposed thoughts.. then Moon isn’t going to turn down the potential opportunity to join in.
If Sun’s gonna lie to him, he’s gonna have to commit to his story, too.
[ 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏.. 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆? ]
Sun looks almost taken aback for a moment, surprised that Moon let his half-lie slip by so easily, until he suddenly smirks at the realization of what Moon is hinting at.
Well, if Moon is willing to let it go and move on to some far more pleasant thoughts.. who is Sun to deny him?
He thinks it over for a moment, taking in your soft sleeping form, and when he looks over to Moon for confirmation of his request, he finds his lunar counterpart’s gaze already cast over you with that familiar, cautious desire in his eyes.
Sun fiddles with a few internal settings before initiating the process.
A few moments later, an identical alert pops up on both of their HUDs at the same time.
[ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝙲𝙻𝙸𝙿𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚃𝙾��𝙾𝙻. ]
[ 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚗-𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍. ]
[ 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍? ]
[ 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙴𝙳. ]
[ 𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔻ℝ𝕆ℙ 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙴𝙳. ]
[ 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜’ 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍. ]
[ 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.. ]
-
There’s no stopping the next flood of thoughts they get. Their motions now in sync, every sensation, thought, and emotion felt simultaneously between them, their gaze homes in on you. Still sleeping, unaware of the growing desire you spark in your partners when you shift a little and your legs fall even further open. Unaware of the show they’re preparing to put on in their combined headspace.
Thoughts of how you're already on display for them, if you'd just let them pull those damn pants down..
They know you're not wearing underwear. You rarely do.. not in the evenings like this. It gives them easier access. Just one less thing to get in the way with how most nights they approach you begging to touch you, pleading to help you feel good. They just want you to feel so goddamn good for them. They can't help it.
They can already imagine just how wet your cunt’s gonna get for them.. and those fucking sounds, god, the sounds you’ll make when they finally touch you. The way your breath will hitch when they trace a finger gently up between your folds, your slick immediately coating their digits, helping the smooth silicone glide effortlessly up, further and further, agonizingly slow. They won’t give you what you want right away. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it always feels better when there’s some anticipation involved.
They’ll trace slow, teasing circles around the base of your hard little clit until you can’t take it anymore. When your voice takes on that desperate, pleading edge and one set of their hands has to hold your hips still to prevent you from moving around under their slow, calculated pleasure, they finally show you some mercy. One wet thumb reaches up and runs up along the underside of your clit, so slow, so gentle, over and over again.
Never going any faster, never changing pace, just a rhythmic stroke across your most sensitive bundle of nerves, soft yet relentless until you start whimpering again. They'll pull away for a moment to soothe you like always, reassuring you.
One of them will climb up onto the couch with you, pulling you into their embrace as they cup your cheek, directing you to look at them.
"It's okay, Sunlight.. we know.. it's intense, isn't it?“
You’ll nod your head vehemently, over and over, desperation and want clearly written across your features as you make some sweet, shy noise of agreement.
“Mhm.. but you know we've got you, right?"
Instead of returning their attention to your clit, as they await your response, two long fingers will slip inside of you, meeting little resistance as your hips buck and your walls tighten around them in an effort to bring them further inside.
Your eyes meet theirs and once again you nod your head in acknowledgment, a quiet little whine of “please, please take care of me..” falling from your lips.
You know they’ve got you.
They’ll smile. An identical, love-drunk, hungry grin will spread across the screens of both of their faceplates. They’re so close, bodies caging you in against the too-small couch such that you can feel the hot air escaping from their vents against your skin. They’ll speak again, one of their hands finally returning to give you the attention you desperately need.
“That's right, Starlight.. just let it feel good. We know you can take this for us. Let us see how wet you can get, yeah? How much of a mess you can make.."
They know you’re sensitive. They'll be sure to take good care of you.
-
A pop-up flashes in the center of their vision.
[ 𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜. 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙿 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖. ]
[ 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. ]
[ 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝚘𝚛 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙴𝙳 ]
Both bots release reluctant groans into the quiet room, the only other sound being that of their fans working overtime trying to keep their temperatures down.
Then, they notice how you begin to stir from your little nest on the couch.
[ 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 ��𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴. ]
[ 𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔻ℝ𝕆ℙ 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴. ]
[ 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜’ 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍. ]
[ 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.. ]
As soon as they finish the short separation process, they’re making their way over to you and dropping down on their knees in front of the couch, asking for your permission in record time.
You blink open your tired eyes and can't help but smile a bit when you see the both of them with their long fingers anxiously hovering over the waistband of your pants. They lock eyes with you and with a quick “Can we? Please?” they don’t even need to specify what they want. You know, and you’re happy to oblige them.
You hate to say no to those puppy dog eyes, anyways. Especially when they’re looking up at you like this, deep beautiful shades of burgundy, desperate and pleading.
You want to give them what they want, after all.
It just so happens that most often, what they want is to see how fast they can have your legs trembling, hands searching for purchase on any part of them you can reach, whining and repeating their names over and over like they’re God and you’re praying.
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A/N: FYI, this story takes place in my ‘[Not] Made by Design’ AU, if you’re curious as to why the hell they’re behaving so differently from canon. It’s intentional! Also, I made a slight change to the wording of the sexual part of this, compared to the version of it I posted on AO3. It's inconsequential, really, but I figured I'd mention it. If you'd like to see the original and/or read more on where the original inspiration came from, you can find it here.
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sometipsygnostalgic · 6 months
Text
"Why is Alola so hated?"
Someone asked this question on Reddit.
The original post:
"Other than too much dialogue what is the worst thing about Alola. Alola is my favorite Pokémon games and region for a multitude of reasons but all I hear about it is that it has too much dialogue. I can understand that but later titles have just as much dialogue especially in the beginning portions of the game. So why is such an issue in these games than any other in the series. Also you thought the GD games were dark, the Aether Family are very dark concept if you want to look into them. Anyways back on topic, why are Alola considered the worst games besides the dialogue of course"
I thought about this question and I ended up writing a lengthy reply, see below. For context I should mention that Sun and Moon were my favourite mainline stories:
"So everyone is mentioning USUM, but since I was around for the launch of the games, I may as well throw my hat into the ring and explain what went wrong:
Everyone was really excited for the games to come out, but there was generally something missing from them. Promotional material was overly vague.
When the original Sun and Moon came out they had the following issues:
The story was very handholdy. I am a GREAT FAN of the story mode, but I have never replayed these games because they are basically visual novels. If you were a Nuzlocker, someone who wanted to replay Pokemon games, or if you didn't like the story, then these versions would automatically become your least favourite because of how long it takes to reach each milestone. It's also easier than a lot of prior games, not as easy as Gen 6 or 8 but up there.
While the region is IMO one of the most cohesive, it's also one of the least expansive. The Alola Region is fucking tiny. There's not nearly as many side things to do as in generations 4 and 5, and the new things they put into the Alola games were a lot less fun gimmick-wise. I like that they abandon the grid system, it needed to go, but Pokemon team don't seem to work well in 3d.
The online multiplayer was total ass. Of course, the online only got WORSE From here on out. How you get worse than Festival Plaza is beyond me, but I think Gen 7 is definitely when Pokemon jumped from having the BEST multiplayer system on Nintendo systems in generation 6 to one of the worst. Personally I was also disappointed the Festival Plaza wasn't a bit more like the Wifi Plaza, which was already a broken terrible mess but at least had some minigames. It seemed to take the wrong inspiration from Wifi Plaza, and tragically Pokemon only went downhill with online compatibility after. Because while technically the online is more fun in gen 8 and 9, it doesn't work.
The games leaked before they came out. Everyone saw concept art of the starters' final evolutions and they were SO MAD that Litten became bipedal. But there were very few surprises in Sun and Moon for people who prowled the reddit, who also seemed to be the least excited about the games.
However, what I don't think you understand is how much LOVE they had. Of all the pokemon games I've been around for the release of, I think Sun and Moon were most unanimously loved. Everyone was talking about the story, and the incredible new designs of the alola pokemon, and yeah they were having a lot of trouble playing online, but people persisted.
When Ultra Sun and Moon came out, people were veeeeery disappointed for three key reasons:
This was a dual release "third version" instead of a sequel. Again, everyone LOVED the story of the original games, by this point it felt that the "third version" idea was dated, and people wanted a damn sequel with their favourite characters! I think BW2 set a very high bar for what the Pokemon team could offer, and unfortunately I don't think they ever met that bar again after they started making 3d games.
It was on the 3DS instead of the Switch. I was NEVER expecting USUM to be Switch games, I knew Pokemon team were not ready for Switch, but for some reason people expected Pokemon Stars to be a Switch game. Everyone was reaaaaally excited for Pokemon Switch after the console launched, but Pokemon has always belonged on the DS, and I felt it had more potential for growth on that console before moving up on the chain. Of course, after the negative reaction to USUM and the begging for Pokemon Switch, Game Freak HAD to start development on Let's Go and Sw/Sh.
The things they'd added into the game were not as impressive as the other Third Versions. Pokemon Emerald and Pokemon Platinum were objective improvements from the original, though I have some things to say about Emerald's pacing. I like the minigames from Ultra, I fell SO in love with the Camera mode!!! Spent so much time fucking around in it and still have a folder in my computer to this day. HOWEVER, the people still yearn for a Battle Frontier! The Battle Factory they put in USUM seems to be based on community, which was already a pain in the ass, and as you know, it's now impossible to play online with others, so RIP to that as well. I like the changes to the Battle Tree, I love Rainbow Rocket, but while Platinum and Emerald were NECESSARY IMPROVEMENTS from the ground up, USUM only improved some of the battles and held down everything else with more, worse cutscenes.
The story was much worse than the original, choosing to cut and change content instead of improve upon what was there. The story of Platinum and Emerald doesn't come across as worse than DP and RS, but EVERYONE thinks the story for USUM is a downgrade. The reason for this is because if Lillie was the true protagonist of the games originally, the Ultra versions tried to cut her down, but only for a couple of her most important scenes. She and Lusamine basically have every scene intact except for their most important, climactic moments. It's like if instead of BW2, they made Pokemon Grey but it was split in half, and instead of being an evil fucko gunning for world domination, Ghetsis was trying to use the power of the two Dragons to stop Kyurem from freezing the world, except he still abused pokemon, and he still abused N from childhood, and N never showed up to become champion and N never realised the truth of pokemon or turned against his father. How terrible would that be?
No remakes or anything special at the end of the gen. For the past few generations we'd either had remakes or sequels, but Gen 7 released USUM and Let's Go. It's debatable whether the Lets Go games are part of gen 7, but I wouldn't consider them remakes the same way that HGSS or ORAS are, and they are CERTAINLY not a favourite with a hardcore Pokemon audience. At least Gen 8/9 had decent DLC and Legends Arceus as a halfhearted apology note, but unfortunately there was no swan song at the end of Generation 7.
I think ultimately that's what made people go from "Gen 7 could be the best yet" to "Gen 7 bad". The launch was very strong, but the followup was the poorest out of almost any gen.
My personal opinion of USUM is it is one of the best pokemon games for general battles, I think it would be a lot more fun to nuzlocke than the original Sun and Moon, but there's a lot of better pokemon games to replay than USUM, especially if you're taking modded into account. I think sun and moon were the most immersive out of the games I've played, at the very least because it had improvements like trainer models in battles without the uncanny as hell stuff you got in the next two gens. I remember the games fondly, even if I do feel bitter about the story changes."
I thought this reply was worth sharing on this blog. I put a lot of effort into it.
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justaduckarts · 1 year
Note
“It’s me. Don’t you… Don’t you remember?” 
DIRTYNIGHTCLOWNS-
i mean if the killers... maybe thought y/n was too annoying... too in the way of their murdering... kept moon too docile... maybe just clipping y/n from Sun&Moon's memory would be a good fix :)
OHOHOH NONNIE :)
This one. This one is going to hurt.
This will also be not canon.
To say you were upset was an understatement. You were crying so hard it was hard to see the road. When you drove right past the turn for your apartment complex, you knew where you were going.
You just didn't want to be alone.
The park was already open for the night, but you were able to abuse your employee privileges and get a parking spot that wouldn't mean a mile hike up to the gates. Seriously, this place needed another parking garage. The first one wasn't cutting it.
The gates opened with a creak. The staff bot at the ticket counter waved at you. You waved back, wiping furiously at your face.
Well. If you weren't working tonight, you knew Moon wasn't either. Wasn't permitted out of the daycare without eyes on him. Not when they still hadn't sorted his 'software issue'. That was fine. All you wanted right now was to see him.
You marched on towards the building made to look like a tent, pulling yourself together. Calming down. Moon always knew how to distract you. You could really use the distraction, even if it meant being picked on for a couple hours.
Except... the daycare was empty.
"Moon?" You called out over the play area. You peeked into the naptime nook. Little artificial stars lit your path.
There was no sign of the lunar animatronic you so adored anywhere in the daycare. You even boldly tried the door by the security desk, but it was locked. Still, given how loud you were being, there was no way he didn't hear you. Right?
Unless he wasn't in the daycare.
As if on cue, the doors to the daycare swung open. In your panic, you dove under the security desk. Why were you hiding? Well, technically you weren't supposed to be there. You didn't want to get in trouble for breaking in (even if Moon had given you the pass code for the backdoor). But really, if you came clean, you probably wouldn't, right? Should you just-
"Alright, Moon," a rough voice cut through your mental debate. You've really gotta stop eavesdropping like this.
"You're good to go. Since you're not allowed to work without your handler, you'll just have to hang out in the daycare tonight. If you notice any continued issues, just send us a report." Carlos tucked his hands into his pockets.
"Thank you, Mr. Carlos," Moon looked around the daycare. Clean, as always. Sun never did like to leave a mess.
"Heh. If only the Moon at the 'plex were so easy to work with... G'night." With that, the slimy tech turned and strolled back out of the daycare. The doors swung shut.
A little breath of relief fell out of you. Carlos. You really didn't want to run into him. Not after what Springtrap had said about him. How skeevy do you have to be to make an animatronic designed for scaring uncomfortable?
"Sun? Are you awake?" Moon's voice was quiet. You weren't sure if Sun responded, give that dialogue would be internal. But he must have, because after a moment Moon said, "I'm fine."
Moon was on the verge of asking Sun another question. You heard him start with "Do you" when you popped up quickly. No, you couldn't eavesdrop on them. That wouldn't be right.
The moment you popped up behind the desk, Moon jumped.
"Trespas- oh. You." Moon's claws relaxed. "What are you doing here? The daycare is closed. And you aren't working."
"Uh..." You shifted. "I just came to see you."
Moon's head tilted cartoonishly.
"Why?"
"Well.." You looked at him. Was he messing with you right now? Usually he seemed excited to see you. "I just... wanted to?"
"You... wanted to see me?" Moon pointed at himself. The puzzled look on his face troubled you.
"Yes? I thought we could talk. Or- Or play a game. I don't know, I've just... had a rough day and-
"And you came... here? To me? Shouldn't you have... gone to a friend?" Moon's genuine confusion struck you. Gone to a friend? Well. That hurt.
"You are my friend," you said quietly, "Moon if this is like... like some kind of joke, it's not funny."
"I'm completely serious," Moon stood up straighter, "you're not meant to be in the daycare right now. You entered the park without a ticket. You need to leave."
"Leave? No, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on with you." You stood taller, arms crossed. Why was he doing this to you?
"What's going on with me is that I am escorting a trespasser off of company property. I'll be filing a report, I hope you know that." Moon shook his head, "how typical of management to stick me with such a troublemaker."
And then it clicked. He didn't know you. He didn't remember you.
"Moon. It's... It's me. It's starlight. Don't you... Don't you remember me?" You crept out from behind the desk.
"I've never met you before," he said flatly. Your eyes grew misty.
"Oh." You put a hand to your mouth. Moon watched your expression twist with despair. "Oh god..." He vaguely wondered if you were having some kind of nervous breakdown.
Still. Moon's caretaker programming wouldn't stop nagging at him. You were distressed, obviously. He needed to correct that.
"..." Moon hesitantly reached out and patted your shoulder. He wasn't accustomed to the idea of comforting adults. Little ones, certainly. But adults? Well, he tried not to think on it.
You looked up at Moon. What could you say?
"Moon... is... Sun- I- Does he remember?" Your hands clasped together, as if you were praying.
Moon's head tilted once more. His expression shifted.
"Sun has informed me that he doesn't recognize you." Moon shrugged, "we've never met you. What did you call yourself? Starlight? Is that a preferred name?"
"It's... not," you wiped your eyes, "...sorry for trespassing. I uh, I should go. I should- yeah- I should leave."
"Right," Moon folded his hands together, watching you move towards the exit, "I suppose I'll be seeing you tomorrow for our first shift together?"
The question made you cringe. You clenched your fists.
"...Yeah. See you tomorrow, Moonbeam," you tossed a lazy wave before moving for the door again.
Moon watched you go. One step. Two. Five.
Should we be worried? Sun, always so concerned about others.
Six. Eight. Ten.
Moon groaned.
Suddenly, he was grasping your hand. You looked back at him.
Well. This felt painfully familiar. Like a twisted deja vu.
"Something wrong?" It just jumped out of you so naturally. Moon shifted, hands fidgeting.
"Maybe... You could stay... For one game." He looked anywhere but you. Moon couldn't deny he was curious about you. About why you were there. Why you were sad and why you called him Moonbeam. It tugged at something in him.
"Uh..." You looked up at him. Mason's words crept back in.
Quit while you're ahead.
...Guess you're not the quitting type. You took a breath.
"Hide and seek?" You smiled up at him, drying your face.
"Perfect." Moon nodded.
"Do you want to seek?" You followed him away from the door. Moon tried to fight it, but he grinned.
"Yes." There was a little jingle of bells as he bounced in anticipation. Anticipation of the game. Of the chase.
Moon does love to chase.
And you. Well. You were shaping up to be an interesting mystery to chase.
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multiversal-madness · 2 years
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How do you do such cool creature designs
Teach me your ways
Thank you! And to be honest, I’m not completely sure. but I think I have two main pieces of advice I could give.
The first is figure out your concepts/references and the second is don’t be discouraged by a first attempt that doesn’t turn out that good.
(This ended up a lot longer than I thought it’d be, sorry it’s so long. This is my first time making a tutorial thing so I hope it helps! More under the readmore)
To start, I’ll use Shattered Future Randall and Claire as examples:
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With Randall, there was a collection of concepts which came from Randall himself, the masked gentleman and the mask of chaos. To list them, there’s bird (from the gentleman), lion (from Randall’s floofy hair) and the sun/moon/stars (the mask).
The lion and bird related concepts are easy to see in the design, but the sun moon and stars come into play with the mask’s horns. The mask itself has the five horn-like things, so I used those to crate the sun/moon/star horns.
At the top is the sun, then the second set is the moon (a crescent when viewed from front on) and the lowest set is the stars.
Then there’s Claire. She admittedly had less to work with, but I also had the need for the spectre which helped. She also has a big tie to time, which is shown through the Roman numerals, the clock hand antennae and the snake (ouroboros).
She also had the connection to fire through her death, which is why she has the furnace-like mouth.
Gathering concepts is the starting point for your creature. It helps to look up which animals or symbols represent what, and I’d recommend looking up different mythical creatures for inspiration.
Admittedly, these two were more concept than reference related, so for the reference example, I’ll use the centaur au.
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For these, I looked up multiple pictures of the creatures I used on Google and on tumblr. The biggest example of this is Hershel’s wings, which are based off of an inverted picture of a blue jay (with a few adjustments)
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I did this because Luke and the Professor colours are already (not perfectly) inverted (Luke has white, blue and green, the Professor has ‘black’ orange and red).
Luke’s main bunny body also took a lot of references, bunnies are surprisingly hard to draw lol.
Then there’s the second point I mentioned: don’t be discouraged by a first attempt that doesn’t turn out that good.
For the example, here’s some concept art for Shattered future Randall and Claire
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You see, they didn’t quite start out too good (especially Claire lol). Claire’s face shape didn’t appear until the third or fourth time I drew her, and Randall’s horns weren’t worked out until I drew them for the silhouette.
Randall didn’t even have paws in his first design, and Claire’s numeral spine used to just be firey.
When drawing your own creatures, try out different things. You don’t like a certain part? Draw it differently as many times as you need to and if it still doesn’t work, then just remove it or replace it with something else.
Redraw the whole thing if you want to, but each time you draw it you’ll get closer to what you want.
This ended up a bit rambley, I’m not sure if any of this really makes sense but I hope it helps!
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decepticon-nerd · 1 year
Text
My problem with Pokémon right now is that most of these past generations (SwSh, BDSP, and now SV) have been hyped up to the degree of making you want to shell out between $60.00-$120.00 USD but have come out quite lackluster, but by the time you find that out, Pokémon, Game freak, Nintendo, whoever the hell owns it now. They've already made that money.
I'm gonna gripe about them and this is my personal opinion. I will state now that I am a long time fan of Pokémon; the first game I played was Gold and the first game I bought for myself was Diamond. I am old enough to remember when Black and White 1 had commercials on TV (which is saying something because my memory is atrocious) and I've played at least one game from every generation.
In other words my post is probably gonna be biased.
I had some fun playing Sword and Shield. The plot was decent enough to keep me interested, as were the cool designs of a handful of new Pokémon. Snom, Obstagoon, and Corviknight are my favorites from that generation, probably. The starters are all lackluster and I usually shove them in my box after catching something else. And in terms of designs, can someone please tell me what the fuck Pokémon was thinking when they made Swordward and Shieldbert?
The wild area we were promised wasn't as expansive as we thought, the weather feature was weird as heck, the render distance was abysmal. So they release a DLC for the Isle of Armor and the Crown Tundra. Genuinely love the DLC and how much more you can explore. I don't remember how much the DLC was, but it was like.. $30.00 USD or something to get both of them.
The DLC gave us back one beloved feature that the game devs have failed to provide since Gen 4. Pokémon could walk with us again. You could only walk with them on the Isle or in the Tundra, though. I essentially payed $30.00 for one of my favorite features and said feature ran like shit. My Golisopod walked at a treacherously low speed and I outpaced it by walking. Not to speak of your faster Pokémon that sprinted at you with malicious intent every five seconds if you didn't outpace it.
I don't remember if Let's Go Eevee/Pikachu came out before or after this, but the feature worked perfectly in those games (to my knowledge; it's been a while!) Unless your Pokémon got stuck on something.
The plot of Sword and Shield was kept hidden from us really until the very end. The "big bad team" we got were insignificant flies that tried to trip us up every step of the way. And the Team Yell admin was literally just another gym challenger. I love Marnie and I love Piers but I don't think Team Yell was plot relevant, just extremely annoying.
The games going oh here's this evil team leader BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE started in Sun and Moon but I think it worked there purely because that was new. It was new, it was unique, it was done well, and Guzma got to call us idiots. They keep trying to do that now in different ways and it just doesn't hit for me. I want to go back to one super bad team (or two, in an Aqua Magma scenario) where they try to bring back an ancient deity and everything goes to shit. That's what Pokémon was.
BDSP was literally a copy paste of the file data from DP because there's apparently a bug present in BDSP that was patched in Platinum. Also, it's apparently super easy to a void glitch now, and you can fly on a surfing bidoof. And you can soft lock yourself in the ice gym. There's so many other bugs but those are the ones I remember.
My biggest gripes about the game are the fact that I payed double now what I did for the originals in the past for what was essentially the exact same thing with a few extra bells and whistles (and bugs), and whatever the fuck this was supposed to be.
Garchomp is supposed to be intimidating, and I guess from an in game view that would be, but I just stared at it going what the fuck did they do to him. He's t-posing. At least he keeps up with the player I guess. Not to mention all the models are miniscule. Rayquaza looks like a worm following the player.
And speaking of intimidating, what in god's name did they do to Cyrus.
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I'm supposed to be intimidated by this emotionless man but he looks like a chew toy.
I love Diamond and Pearl. I hate having to tear a remake of it down like this. My disappointment was immeasurable, to be sure. I waited so long for a remake and we got this joke. Nothing changed. Yeah the underground is bigger, but what about the special gimmicks? No mega evolution, no dynamax?
And I don't think anyone has really talked about it because we immediately got Legends Arceus out and I will say right now I have put an ungodly amount of hours into that game and still haven't beaten it because Munchlax fucking sucks to find. I know where to find it, it just hates me. Yeah the Pokémon don't follow you, but that's probably preferable to them not being able to keep up. My favorite things about the game were that Pokémon actually got near each other in battle to hit each other, and that to could spam Pokéballs and not fight. Pokémon felt like a proper threat. You had to dodge them to stay alive.
It felt like a proper Pokémon game again, with one bad guy (in this case Volo) trying to end the world just so he can see God because he's too much a fangirl. The game revamped old characters, brought back a familiar face (Ingo my beloved) and gave us a plot worth fighting for. I tell you I squealed when the player got exiled and I was immediately brought back to PMD. Sure there were the bandit sisters, and again, the devs led us to believe they were the bad guys in advertising but they were just stupid pests that had no idea what they were doing.
My favorite things were immediately taken away in Scarlet and Violet. Yeah it's an open world. It's expansive. It's fun. Pokémon still run at you. I can't jump out of the way anymore, I have hop on my bike god and drive away. You can sneak, but what's the point when you have to battle the Pokémon to catch it anyway? Pokémon are practicing social distancing again, apparently. The sprites don't get near each other to attack anymore.
And the designs oh God the designs.
Dunsparse can evolve! He just gets longer and gets a pointier chin. What's Pawmi evolve into? Oh, it just stands up and gets anime hair. Speaking of anime hair, Primape apparently cosplays Dragon Ball Z when it dies. Lechonk was cute, I bet it evolves into something cool. Nope, just a slightly bigger pig with mascara. The pseudo-legendary is a joke among Gods. Cetoddle is cute, and Cetitan would be cool if it's mouth wasn't above its eyes. Love the fact that we have a mimic now. You need 999 gold coins to evolve it into a Dammit Doll. Half the Pokémon have a plastic face glued on a round orb of a head with zero protruding facial features like, I don't know, a snout or a nose? There's a flamingo that's just a flamingo, nothing special about it. Also we apparently get to fight literal cars and engines now! Have we reached the point of Pokémon Gun?
Not to mention that Pokémon following is back! It sucks again. Lots of Pokémon can't keep up with the player or Miraidon (I have Violet.) Meowscarada apparently has the zoomies and might be the exception.
SV: How many technical issues do you want us to have
Game Devs: Yes
They're also doing the misleading bad guy plot again and I can't tell if I should trust Turo or not. I haven't even physically met him in game yet.
The game has potential. I am just so unbelievably disappointed that the devs hid the pathetic Pokémon they were creating until leaks came out. I didn't think half the leaks were real, they all looked so farfetched. My team has ended up comprised almost entirely of old Pokémon that I treasure. That being said, all of them were hard to find so I basically played the entire game with just Meowscarada (because I've found that I don't hate it that much in motion) and Talonflame. My favorite Pokémon Absol isn't even in the game. I doubt we're ever getting the Nat Dex back, which means I can't play with all my old Pokémon friends together anymore.
I don't know how many more new Pokémon games I'm going to play. I feel like I've been let down too many times recently. I'm almost done with Violet, I think, because I never do the dex anyway. I'll catch my version exclusives and give them to my friends but when I beat the game I can't say if I'll pick it up again or not. And if I do, it might be solely so I can watch what's his name heal his dog with herbs again.
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alyjojo · 1 year
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Advice to Work on Yourself 💳 in May 2023: Sagittarius
Wheel of Fortune rev - Knight of Swords - The Sun
Regarding: The Lovers rev
Your reading is similar to Aries, difficult times have turned into a dream come true for you, or will, and the advice is only for you to recognize it consciously, because with this High Priestess being here, you may not. Or like, you know but you don’t think about it, the past is the past and all that, Sag isn’t always the most reflective bc emotions…why, it’s over, and Spirit is like “HULLO. Hi there 👋🏽 That was me. You’re welcome.” Maybe give Spirit some credit. I heard “A thank you would be nice.” 🤣 You disconnected from an ex awhile ago, it was a negative cycle in your life, things felt like they were falling apart and you had no other option than to walk away. You felt like everything was against you, and it probably was, luck was not on your side.
Because of this separation, you turned bitter, vengeful even, which isn’t really in character for Sag but…y’all are definitely a “fk around and find out” kind of sign. Because of this bitterness and anger, you kinda turned into a bit of a fkboy/girl, played the field. Had some fun! Maybe out of revenge, maybe to piss someone else off, maybe to compete or just show you CAN. Fk ‘em. Whatever the reason, it worked out for you, because you’ve found someone that makes you incredibly happy. The Sun ☀️ Whoever this person is fills you with excitement, they have great ideas, and they unconsciously heal the loss from whatever didn’t work out before. This person has victory, success, a dream coming true…everything that’s positive connected to them. With your artist card showing “wanting can be better than having”, with the Dead Tree charm, it’s referring to the ex. Cheetah shows once you find this new person, there’s absolutely no stopping you, it could all happen very quickly, and you’ll know right away. If you’re not there yet, you will be. You’re welcome 💜
Animal Oracle: Cheetah 🐆
“Get clear on your intention, stay focused, and move quickly to achieve your goal.”
Stop deluding yourself by thinking there isn’t enough time, there are too many other things to do, or you’re not up to the mission that’s calling you to action. These and many other beliefs are delay tactics that keep you from accomplishing what you’re here to do. It’s much too easy to play it safe by staying caught up in the mundane dramas of life rather than honoring Spirit’s purpose for you by making a run for it.
The first step is to write out your intention as clearly as possible. Keep it nearby and create an appropriate affirmation that you can repeat several times over the course of a day - one that states your intention as if it has already occurred. Then write out a sequence of action steps that will move you toward your ultimate goal. Don’t be shy or hesitant to think big - bigger than you’ve previously allowed yourself. Once you’ve set the wheels in motion by doing these steps, it’s time to move - not in some frenetic, hurried way, but steady and purposeful, designing much of your activity to support what you need to do. In all of this movement, once you’ve successfully achieved a significant piece, take a breather and moon back on how far you’ve come. Give yourself a pat on the back with each step that’s accomplished as a way of acknowledging your progress. Go for it!
Artist Oracle: ANDY WARHOL
- Eat dessert before dinner.
- Give your 15 minutes some time.
- Wanting can be better than having.
Advice:
- Make Saving Easy
- Offer to Help Without Being Asked
Charms:
Dead Tree 🥀 on Andy is an ex you probably missed and wished for before you meet/met this new person. There is no life in this connection, no real spark between you, something about this lack is what helps you KNOW later when you meet your actual person. You had to experience a Dead Tree before The Star.
Mermaid 🧜🏽‍♀️ on The Sun is magical, destiny, Spirit pulling strings behind the scenes to get you right where you need to be, when you need to be there, though you may not have understood any of that at the time.
The Star ⭐️ on 6 Wands is a dream come true. This is connected to work success too, in all directions you will feel like you’re winning, when before you felt like nothing ever worked out for you. It happened that way on purpose. It’s like your own Spirits know you or something 😉
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finelinevogue · 3 years
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he’s so vogue
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Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue
A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!
warnings: swearing
[masterlist]
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Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.
Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.
That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.
Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".
This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.
Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.
You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.
Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.
"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.
This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    
"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.
"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.
"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.
You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.
After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.
Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.
It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.
But it was still bloody freezing.
You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.
The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.
You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.
It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.
"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.
You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.
"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 
Perfect.
He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.
"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.
"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.
"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.
"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.
"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.
"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."
"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.
"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.
"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.
"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.
You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.
The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.
Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.
It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.
You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.
"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.
"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.
"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.
"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.
"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.
"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.
"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.
"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.
"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.
"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."
"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.
"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.
Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.
"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.
"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.
"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.
"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.
                                                            ••••
You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.
Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.
Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.
"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.
"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.
Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.
"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.
"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.
He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.
You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.
"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.
"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.
"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.
The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.
You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.
You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...
You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.
"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.
"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.
You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.
"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.
"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.
"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.
"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.
"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.
"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.
"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.
"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."
"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.
"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"
Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.
"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.
"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.
"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.
"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.
"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.
"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.
"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.
For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.
"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.
"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.
"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.
"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.
"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .
"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.
He was amazing though - that was the truth.
"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.
"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.
"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).
"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.
"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.
"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.
"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.
"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.
"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"
"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.
"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.
"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.
"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.
"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.
"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.
"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.
"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.
"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.
"You still see them often?" 
"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.
"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.
"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.
"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.
This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.
"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.
"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.
"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.
"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.
"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.
"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.
"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"
"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.
"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.
He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.
Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.
"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.
"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.
"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."
"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.
"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.
"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 
"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.
"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?
"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.
"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.
"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.
"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.
"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.
"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.
Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
                                                          ••••
After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.
You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.
You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.
You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.
You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.
Today had been a good day.
Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.
People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.
"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.
"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.
"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.
Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.
Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.
The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.
Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.
You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.
Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.
"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.
"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.
"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.
"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.
"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."
Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.
The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.
"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.
"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.
"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"
"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.
"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.
"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.
"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.
"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.
"Sorry I didn't mean to—"
"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.
"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 
You couldn't wait to be in love with him.
"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.
"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.
Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.
"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.
"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.
You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.
Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.
                                                             ••••
A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.
It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.
Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.
Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.
You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.
It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.
And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
866 notes · View notes
seijorhi · 3 years
Text
nostos.
well it’s not exactly monster fucking but um... here there be monsters.
Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader
TW implied non-con, nsfw-ish, blood, gore, minor character death, animal death, um somebody gets munched... 
Every good writer needs peace and quiet. Fresh air and a change of scenery.
You’re not running away, it’s more of a… tactical retreat. Two weeks disconnected from well meaning friends, pushy family members and your eternally irritating editor, with nothing but the beautiful, sprawling forests to keep you company.
The mountains are familiar, if isolating, you think, leaning against the porch railing with a warm mug in hand as the breeze picks up and the tall maple and birch trees rustle in response. The leaves are turning vibrant reds and gold with the falling temperatures and even in the eerie quiet of the cold morning, you can’t deny that it’s breathtaking. 
It reminds you of your childhood, the countless vacations you’d spent here with your family, always in autumn, always in time to watch the leaves change before the first snows of winter set in. Fond memories of running through the trees chasing after cute little bunnies, giggling even when you tripped up and scraped your knees. There was something mystical about the forest back then, something special. But it’s been years since you’ve been here last, and the first time you’ve ever come alone.
And yet it feels different somehow, colder despite the nostalgia. You’re no longer a child, looking at the world through innocent, wondrous eyes. The forest is just a forest. 
Of course, you weren’t an idiot; disappearing off the grid was one thing. Disappearing off the grid without anybody knowing where you were going was another entirely. They’d been surprisingly supportive of the plan – until you told them where it was you were planning on running off to.
‘Why go back to the mountain, honey?’ your mother had asked, her smile wavering and an odd tightness in her eyes. ‘Why not go to the coast instead? Or spend some time in the city?’
But this isn’t a fun little vacation. You don’t want to be distracted by beaches and crowds, you need space to finish your book and time to work through your mess of an emotional state without any interruptions. You want to be untraceable, at least for a week or two.
God knows the last thing you need right now is your ex tracking you down to try and apologise again.
Part of you had thought – somewhat naively, perhaps – that by coming back you’d spark… something. Your memories of the mountains are full of warmth and happiness, but as you stare out into the wilderness, all you feel is a cool chill that runs down your spine and the goosebumps that prickle at your skin. 
Setting your now empty mug down, you pull tighter at the thick knit cardigan draped over your shoulders. Enough reminiscing, your manuscript awaits.
The mountain’s too quiet. You don’t notice it so much during the day, the sound of music softly pouring from your laptop and the gentle clacking of keys as you type enough to distract you  from the eerie stillness outside the cabin. Even at night, you’re preoccupied with dinner, and then curled up on the couch with a warm throw rug watching reruns of your favourite shows on Netflix.
It’s only when you lie down, burrowed into the blankets to try and sleep that you notice just how silent the forest at your doorstep truly is. At first you think it’s simply being away from the hustle and bustle of home. There’s no cars driving past, or the sound of neighbours floating through your open windows, there’s not even the distant hooting of owls or dogs barking.
But it’s more than just quiet. There’s nothing. Even the trees seem to still once the sun falls beneath the horizon. And it shouldn't bother you, shouldn’t unsettle you, and yet…
The first few nights, you don’t sleep well. Tossing and turning in bed. When you do sleep, your dreams are plagued with unpleasant things. Not nightmares as such, but an uneasiness that bleeds into otherwise pleasant thoughts. On the fourth night you wake, gasping for air. Whatever dream you’d been in the grips of fades like smoke, and as you draw in another shuddering breath your throat itches and burns.
Water. You need water. 
You don’t switch on the lights as you fumble your way down to the kitchen, trying to preserve what little remnants of sleep are still in your system. Even with the moon almost full and the night sky clear, the canopy shrouds it. 
And it’s in that darkness, as your eyes flicker up from the faucet, that you see it for the first time.
A shape, huge and looming, silk shadow against black. 
For a moment, as your heart hammers against your ribs, a chill creeping down your spine, you don’t dare trust your eyes. Maybe you’re asleep still, dreaming, or your mind’s playing tricks on you, because there’s nothing that should be lurking in the woods outside of your window that size.
Two golden, cat-like eyes peer back at you.
They’re still there when you race to flick on the lights, unblinking, curious as you skitter backwards, hand over your racing heart.
You’re tired, emotionally drained and this–
This is nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination, a child creating monsters from the shadows in their bedroom. Yet even as you run back to the safety of the bedroom, yank the curtains shut and huddle under the meagre warmth your blankets afford you, squeezing your eyes shut, you feel it out there still, watching.
And in the stillness of the mountains outside, you swear you hear footsteps.
You wake to fresh snow, too early in the year, even at these altitudes. It dusts the ground, covering the mossy paths in glittering white, clings to the branches of the trees – the red leaves looking like droplets of blood scattered across a grey sky. The snow will undoubtedly melt as the sun rises, turn to slush and mix with the dirt, but for now it’s a thing of beauty.
For a moment, you allow yourself to forget how tired you are, how unsettled, venturing out from the cabin with wide, excitable eyes. It never used to snow when you were here as a kid, and while you get the occasional snowfall back home, it’s nothing like–
You stop dead in your tracks. 
There’s two human footprints imprinted on the snow – only two – right outside your bedroom window, crisp and clean, as if they’d been left just moments before.
Your mother sounds worried when you call her. Of course, you don’t tell her about the lone footprints at your window, or the creepy pair of eyes you’d seen through the dark, you know how that sounds. You’re not crazy, and even if some part of you truly believed what you’d seen, your mom is the last person you’d admit it to.
Once upon a time, when you were little, she’d indulged in stories of fairies and spirits, but that was a long time ago. Now she turns up her nose and sneers at the myths and legends that your grandma still spouts, dismissing them with a scoff.
It’s not the kind of thing well-adjusted adults talk about in polite conversation.
She’s a good woman, but you can’t tell her this. 
And you’re not even sure you’re entirely sold on it either. The eyes could have been from a wild animal – big cats might be rare in Japan, but they do exist here. You were half asleep (half terrified) when you had seen them, you don’t want to make a fuss over nothing. The footprints are less easy to explain away. If there’d been tracks leading away, you could convince yourself that it was a lost hiker and nothing more.
But there weren’t any tracks leading away; just the two footprints. And what kind of hiker doesn’t wear shoes in weather like this? It’s possible that this is some kind of prank, a mean spirited trick designed to unsettle you – a job well done, by the way – but you can’t quite bring yourself to believe that either. 
In any case, you’re hardly going to admit over the phone that you’re freaking out over some footprints in the snow. God knows she’s already worried enough about your mental state, has been ever since the breakup, and you’re not going to give her any more ammunition. 
But perhaps there is something to that maternal instinct, because despite your best efforts to reassure her that you’re doing just fine, that your novel’s going great and you’re so glad you came out here, she still sounds entirely unconvinced.
“Honey, you know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” she tells you, her voice strangely hesitant. “You don’t sound yourself, are you sure everything’s okay?”
You don’t know why you called her at all. You always have been a shitty liar, and she’s always been able to see right through you. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Honestly the fresh air’s doing me good,” you tell her. “It’s weirdly quiet here though, I’m not used to it,” you laugh, and even to your ears it sounds hollow and fake.
There’s a heavy pause on the other end of the line, and if you close your eyes you can almost picture it, your mom leaning against the kitchen counter, teeth worrying into her bottom lip–
“I just don’t like you out there all by yourself.”
Relax, what’s the worst that could happen?
The words almost, almost slip out, an instinctive reaction to a mother’s well meaning but overbearing concern. But it feels like tempting fate, and whether or not you’re fully convinced that there is something strange happening, you’re not that bold. Instead you begin to tell her (again) that everything’s fine when she suddenly speaks again.
“Bad things happen in those mountains. Just… just promise me you’ll be safe.”
Abruptly, the line goes dead. 
Pulling the phone from your ear, you glance down at the illuminated screen, only to frown when you see the little ‘SOS Only’ flashing in the top corner. Huh, you’d had a few bars when you’d started the call, but… 
The weather’s gotta be messing with your signal. Stranger things have happened, right?
Shaking your head you resolve to give her a call tomorrow. And yet, even as you try to put her parting words from your mind and throw yourself back into your writing, you can’t help but feel that familiar sense of cloying unease seeping through your skin once more. 
What the hell had she meant, ‘bad things happen in those mountains’?
A good night’s sleep can do you wonders. 
Well, theoretically speaking. You can’t remember the last actual decent sleep you’d had, but regardless, the point stands. All you need is an uninterrupted eight or nine hours, and this… paranoia will go away. Things’ll be clearer in the morning, so long as you sleep.
The mantra doesn’t help you any, of course. 
You don’t need to peer through the window to feel those watchful eyes staring. And maybe it would be easier to ignore the prickling sensation at the nape of your neck if it weren’t for the noises.
Music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the mournful wails, like a wounded animal crying out in pain. It’s incessant, inescapable, reverberating inside of your eardrums until it’s all you can focus on.
It’s instinctual, you think, the urge to creep from your bed and try to find the creature making that sound and help it. But even as your feet touch the cool floorboards, your gut clenches, hackles rising. Something deep inside of you warns you from leaving the safety of the cabin.
Whatever creature is making those noises, it’s not calling for help.
You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but you must have because at a certain point in the morning you blink your eyes awake, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.
And this time it’s not snow that greets you, but the mangled remains of a doe ripped apart on your porch. Deep, jagged gouge marks run along its flank, organs spilling from the cuts and there’s little left of its neck, the whole thing torn out with teeth. Yet for the gruesome injuries, the only blood you find is congealed, pooled beneath the poor creature.
Whatever happened to it, it didn’t happen here. The knowledge doesn’t soothe you like it should – the park ranger you spoke to on the phone mentioned that while it’s rare, sometimes bears venture a little too close to buildings, though he sounds doubtful even as he says it.
He sounds even less interested when you tell him this doesn’t look like a bear attack, but promises they’ll send someone down in the next few days to check everything out. In the meantime, he suggests, it’s best to stay indoors. 
Yeah, not gonna be an issue.
And so with no feasible way of moving it, you’re left with the butchered corpse of a doe just outside your front door. And the thing that bothers you isn’t so much the body, though you still can’t look at it without wanting to throw up, but the fact that it was just… left there.
Not eaten. No, aside from the missing throat, the deer’s all there. Ripped apart with its guts spilling out, but otherwise untouched. Growing up you had a cat, the sweetest little thing, but every once in a while she would get out of a night, find some poor little creature to torment and without fail, she’d bring it back home, leaving it half dead on the doorstep like a gift.
‘See what a good hunter I am?’ she seemed to say, smugly sauntering back inside. 
It wasn’t about food. It wasn’t hunger that drove her, but instinct. As you stare out the window at the doe, at the milky white emptiness of dead eyes, you wonder whether that’s the same here. There’s no tracks in the dirt, no blood smeared across the ground – it wasn’t dragged here. No animal could’ve done this. 
A gift? 
Or perhaps something less benevolent. A threat. You’ve crossed into territory you don’t belong and the deer, cruelly ripped apart and left to bleed out on your doorstep is a line in the sand.
Either way, as tears fill your eyes, a sob tugging free from your chest, you realise that it was a mistake to come here. You don’t know whether you trust your eyes and your ears anymore, but there is something deep inside of you that tolls like a warning bell and as much as you’d like to bury your head in the sand and pretend there’s nothing wrong here, you can’t.
Bad things happen in those mountains.
You need to leave.
The next ferry to the mainland doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, but it’ll have to do. Once you stop shaking and calm down enough to carry a conversation, you call the local cab company to arrange a pick-up first thing.
You can survive one more night, you just need to throw yourself back into your writing… if you can only just ignore that sense of foreboding prickling at the back of your neck.
There’s a boy running through the trees, giggling as he glances back at you. His hand’s outstretched, wrapped ‘round yours tugging you along as he laughs at you to hurry up.
It’s late, the sun dipping below the horizon, but you don’t wanna go back just yet.
You’re having fun, playing in the forest. And the light is golden, filtering in through the pretty red leaves, your sides burn a little from all the chasing and laughter but it’s a good kind of ache. You don’t want today to end.
His name is Kohsuke, you remember, and he lives down in the village by the valley. He’s only one year older than you, and you’d follow him anywhere. 
You think you might be a little in love with him.
‘C’mon, hurry up! It’s only a little further!’ he calls, and you nod, scrambling over the fallen trunk of an oak tree. There’s old spirits who live in this forest, he’d told you, and today you’re finally gonna see one.
It’s dark now. Cold too. You’re tired and hungry and you kinda want to go home, but Kohsuke won’t let you. ‘Just a little longer! Don’t you wanna see them?’
You do. Of course you do. It’s just that you’re starting to get a funny feeling in your stomach… Can he hear the footsteps too? Is somebody following you?
There’s a voice in your ear, a soft, silky purr that makes a shiver roll down your spine, but you can’t make sense of the words, they’re not in any language you understand. You don’t tell Kohsuke – he can’t hear it, otherwise he would have said something. You just clutch his hand tighter, skipping closer.
‘W-we should go back, Koh,’ you murmur, wincing when it comes out in a childish whine. ‘We’re gonna get in trouble.’
You aren’t supposed to stay out playing after dark, he knows it as well as you do. ‘You trust me, don’t you? Stop being such a chicken!’ he snickers as your cheeks heat.
The voice at your ear growls, low and threatening. You need to go back, now.
You blink, and the scene changes.
You’re curled up on the forest floor, hands covering your eyes. Somebody’s screaming – Kohsuke – crying out your name through ragged sobs, pleading–
There’s a crunch, a ripping sound, a wetness sprayed across your cheek. 
Kohsuke’s not screaming anymore.
Something warm and heavy touches your head, drags through the locks of your hair and you just huddle tighter, eyes squeezed shut, shaking like a leaf as more tears spill. You don’t wanna die here. 
The crunching sounds continue, and you keep your eyes tightly shut. It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 
It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 
It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 
It can’t–
A loud knocking jerks you back to consciousness, your body jolting upright, almost swiping your laptop off the table as you try and gather your bearings. Right, you’d been working on your novel, sitting up at the kitchen table, you must have dozed off… A quick glance out the window tells you that you must have been out of it for a while – the late afternoon shadows are starting to creep in, the sky a golden orange. 
What the hell was that dream?!
“Hello? Uh, anybody home?” a masculine voice calls, another loud knock sounding. “We got a call about a wild animal attacking deer…”
Oh, you think, trying to shake yourself out of your stupor, the wildlife people, yeah. You feel a little nauseous, feverish and trembling, though maybe that’s just the result of your erratic heartbeat. 
Swallowing down the bile in your throat, you turn your attention to the door. Truly you hadn’t actually expected that they’d send anybody out to investigate, much less that they’d arrive before you left, but you can hardly turn him away now.
Especially not when there’s a freshly butchered deer corpse lying only a few feet away from your front door. Quickly, you run a hand over your hair, taking a moment to try and collect yourself before you answer.
It doesn’t work – there’s a knot in your throat and for every step you take towards the door it feels like your legs are gonna give out from under you. You move in a daze to unlock the door, only just remembering to school your features into an expression slightly less alarming as it swings open. 
A ranger, tall with a shock of black, messy hair that reminds you oddly of a rooster greets you with an easy grin. “Oh good, I was starting to think nobody was home. You the one that called?”
Distantly, you nod, fingers clutching at the edge of the doorframe. The ranger glances over at the remains of the deer, still lying in a pool of half dried blood, studying it for a moment, hazel eyes sweeping over the deep gashes in its side. You can’t bear to follow his gaze, you’re not sure you can look at that thing again without throwing up. 
He whistles lowly, shaking his head, “Well you don’t see that every day,” he laughs.
Your eyes snap to his, narrowing slightly. It’s not his fault, you know that, but you can’t help the flicker of irritation that sparks at the cavalier attitude. This is just his job, you get it, but you don’t exactly feel like laughing right now. 
“You still think a bear did this?” you retort, the words coming out a little sharper than intended. 
But the ranger takes it in stride, shrugging as his smirk widens. “A bear, huh?” Amusement glitters in his eyes, sharp and mocking. “Why don’t I come inside and you can tell me all about it?” he offers, stepping closer towards you. 
And there’s no reason for your heart to skitter, your blood running cold as he looms over you in the doorway, still wearing that stupid, irritating smirk. There’s no reason for your insides to clench either, or for the tiny, jerky step backwards you take, your body moving of its own accord.
The ranger pauses, head tilting to the side as he stares at you.
Really stares, like he’s waiting for something. And as discomfited as you are (and as much of an asshole as this guy is), a weary apology is halfway to your tongue when he shifts slightly, propping an arm up against the door – the last, dying rays of light catching his face. 
It’s just for a second.
A heartbeat.
But long enough for you to watch those hazel eyes shift to gold, pupils elongating into slits. 
You stumble backwards, breath coming in a short, ragged gasp as your eyes widen into saucers. “What are you?”
The ranger before you chuckles and you catch a glimpse of his teeth; pearly white and glinting, sharper than they had been only moments ago. “Why don’t you let me in and find out for yourself, kitten?”
You shake your head, retreating further into the cabin, heart pounding. 
“No? You don’t like this body, is that it?” he asks, a cruel edge to his smirk as he takes a half step backwards and slowly spreads his arms. “Something more familiar, then.”
And you don’t think there’s any room left in your heart for more fear, your stomach already twisting in sickening knots, but you blink and standing right there in front of you is Kohsuke.
It’s a punch in the guts, a knife slipped between your ribs, yanked ruthlessly through your still beating heart. He’s beaming up at you, those same adorable dimples, the same ridiculous bowl cut, bleeding youthful innocence. “How about now?” he asks, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers like he expects you to take it. “You’ll let me inside now, right?”
A strangled noise escapes you as you fall to your knees. Tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision – you blink them away but more take their place. 
“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks, and you wail in response.
It’s too much. You shake your head, hugging yourself tightly, as if your arms are the only thing keeping you from falling apart entirely. 
He calls your name – not in Kohsuke’s childish lilt, but that deep, ancient purr that makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me in.”
“Go away,” you gasp through tears. “Please– please go away.”
The creature shifts again, the dark haired ranger back in Kohsuke’s place. He eyes you, those unnatural gold irises watching with utter enthralment as you sob pathetically on the floor, still pleading – though you know it’ll do you no good – for him to leave. 
“Last chance, kitten. Let me in, or I’ll make you come out.”
He – it – doesn’t sound nearly as put out by the prospect as it should be. 
And you don’t know why giving permission matters, all you know, all you care about, is that it’s keeping that thing at bay for now. It can’t come inside and so long as you don’t leave the safety of the cabin, it can’t hurt you. The words are nothing but an empty threat.
Right?
You shake your head, defiant even as your voice hitches and trembles, “No.”
“Stubborn little thing,” the creature croons, the smirk on its face widening until the visage no longer resembles anything human – mouth splitting its face in two, rows of long, sharp teeth revealed. “So be it.”
A low growl resonates in its chest, and you can only watch, petrified, as thin, vein-like black marks begin to appear over pale skin, growing thicker, cracking as shadow curls from underneath. The creature itself starts to grow too, limbs elongating as muscles ripple and swell, claws bursting forth in place of fingernails, shoulders broadening – until it’s towering over you, wreathed in thick shadow, grinning with that terrifying mouth. 
This is the thing you’d glimpsed that first night. A creature ripped from nightmares and primal fears, strong enough to tear you apart with a single hand. That’s what it’d done to Kohsuke, to the doe, what it’d do to you if you gave it half a chance.
“You wanna play, kitten?” it asks, head tilting to the side. 
Slowly, it backs away from the door, keeping its gaze fixed firmly on you. For a moment, you think that it’s going to disappear back into the forest, or plant itself by your window to watch for another night, waiting you out till dawn, but instead it stops by the old oak that overhangs the porch and stills entirely, simply… waiting.
“Let’s play.”
Abruptly, the oak beside it bursts into flames. It takes only a heartbeat for the entire thing to be engulfed, red and orange flames licking along the trunk, the gnarled, spindly branches, even the leaves are alight, burning away into ash and floating off in the breeze. The heat from one tree alone is searing, the crackle of burning wood and your own horrified, shuddering breath the only sounds in the night.
It snowed only a few nights before, but the fire spreads with unnatural ease, flames racing across the canopy, embers lighting up the undergrowth, and in the space of a few seconds there’s an inferno raging through the forest before you. And through the smoke and the red, burning haze, the creature watches, smirking.
The heat from the wildfire sears painfully at your skin, the air around you suddenly thick with smoke, stinging your eyes, choking your lungs, and yet you can’t seem to tear yourself away. It’s like a dream, a nightmare, some kind of… hellscape.
And for a moment you forget that there was a purpose to this, too lost staring in mute horror as the forest you’d played in as a child burns–
At least until a single leaf from the oak tree, edges curling as it’s consumed by flames, falls, carried by the breeze and lands on the wooden railing of the porch. With a soft whoosh, the old wooden beam catches fire, and with your chest heaving, panicked breaths falling from parted lips, you rise to your feet as flames spread, the fire eating everything in its path until the entire porch is alight, burning.
Run. 
You don’t know if the voice in your head is yours or not, you don’t have time to care. You scramble for the back door, throwing it open, and you run.
Run until your lungs burn, til’ your bare feet are scratched and bleeding, run, pushed forward by the sweltering heat at your back, the chilling crackle of laughter that follows. You run through tears, through pain and air so thick with smoke that it hurts to breathe.
And you know the creature’s giving chase, you know that you won’t – can’t – outrun it, nor the inferno that blazes around you. You know that it’s futile, that you’re probably running to your death, but that’s human, isn’t it?
To run when you’re scared?
The sky’s awash with a hazy red glow when it catches you, throwing you to the ground, and still you try to crawl. Desperate, choking on broken pleas and sobs, nails raking through the dirt as you try to pull yourself forward. 
And when your pants are ripped from your legs, a puff of warm air ghosting over the nape of your neck as you’re shoved back down, those long, black arms settling either side of you, caging you in – you know that you’ve lost.
“Mine,” the creature growls, and you barely have time to scream before its cock shoves into you with one brutal, merciless thrust. “Mine.”
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blzzrdstryr · 3 years
Text
Midnight chatter
Yandere Diluc x gn!knight!reader
Wordcount: 2385
CW: Yandere, drugging, kidnapping
This was a third week after his return and fifth day of the tireless fight with winery work, when Diluc received an unexpected guest. During his travels across the world, the winery business fell into disrepair and almost collapsed, so once he learnt the state of the wine industry he decided to settle in his office and try to battle the endless reports about necessary expenses and small profits all on his own.
He started to work with the first rays of sunlight well into the night, squeezing every bit of energy his body had, not only because financial issues could affect him personally, but also because of the night vigilante of Mondstadt title he took upon himself.Due to the increased workload he couldn’t find time to patrol the dark streets and alleys of the city, while experience and conscience didn’t allow him to thrust the safety of ordinary citizens into the hands of bumbling, cowardly and lazy knights.
The day soon turned into the late evening, and dawn winery workers started to go home, when someone knocked on his door. It was Adelinde.
Her steps were faster than usual, her stoic face shadowed by the note of concern. Diluc wanted to say that no, he won’t go and have a rest, but she spoke first.
“Master Diluc”, she stopped before his desk: “we have a guest, a knight”.
He lifted his head shifting the eyes from the report to the head maid and pondered - despite his long absence, a lot of people in the city had a general idea how much he dislikes the Favonius Order and so a rare knight would actually dare to bother him, unless… Unless, they were acting out an order from someone high-ranking, like Jean or Varka for example.
Apprehension that his former colleague somehow learned of his nightly escapades sent an unexpected wave of shivers and vague feeling of unease, but he didn’t let it get to him.
“Ask why this knight is here and if it’s something unofficial tell them to leave”, he ordered, at which Adelinde blinked, slowly and tiredly, as if she was looking for the strength to tell something incredibly upsetting or scary.
“The thing is, master Diluc, that I already let them in”.
“Without my permission?”, his eyes widened at that, and the heart started to pick up the pace. What if this knight was really sent here by Varka or Jean? If it was true, Adelinde, unknowingly set him up to fail.
She was looking after him from his earliest childhood, so she was allowed to do and say more than any other of his staff, yet this perceived audacity was unheard of before.
“They were badly injured and said that they needed to stop for the night and once it’s over they will travel to the city with the first sun rays. We helped them to patch up their injuries and offered a room for guests, yet they declined and remained to sit on sofa”, the maid explained absolutely unfazed, after noticing Diluc’s dissatisfaction and then added : “If you are that displeased, master Diluc, I can tell this tired and battered knight to get out from here into the dark night”.
Her voice remained even and emotionless as usual, but even like that young Ragnvindr could hear a light mocking in her words. And to think about it - he got so freaked out over some silly coincidence - the knight stopped here because of the injuries, not some insidious scheme.
“Alright”, Diluc admitted defeat: “they can stay… and offer them some food and tea”, he added just as Adelinde’s hand touched the doorknob.
“Will be done”, she replied before exiting the office. The corners of her mouth slightly moved and crept upwards.
***
Despite his earlier goal of finishing as much work as he can, Diluc couldn’t do anything. Small digits and letters started to float and dance before his eyes while the long lines fused together, when he tried to analyze the state of wine business in naught. But the worst thing was the fact that his thoughts strayed to the topic of mystery knight again and again and Diluc lost count how many times he caught himself thinking who this person is.
He sat like that for a while, until the cinnabar of dying sky got replaced by the darkness and pleasant chill of the night.
Diluc scolded himself for his uncharacteristic indecisiveness, standing up from the desk and locking the office, when this thought, loud and persisting, knocked into his head again. Wouldn’t it be nice, he wondered, to learn who this night is, and finally decided. After all the thoughts about them pestered him for a long time.
Quietly and carefully walking through the unlit corridor of the winery, he confirmed that all servants and workers had already left for sleep, some into the rooms of the main building designated for them, some into the cabins around it. All in all, he was confident that there’s no one except him, the knight, Adelinde and a couple of other maids.
His steps were quiet and slow and not even a single board in the wooden floor creaked under his weight as he knew the winery like the back of his hand. With a bated breath he made his way downstairs, making out vague shapes of the familiar objects. Moonlight pouring out through the windows illuminated only the silhouettes, but even with that he quickly noticed the unknown frame.
The person was half-sitting half-lying on the sofa, and their sword and armor were placed nearby the furniture, reflecting the pale light of the moon. They weren’t moving, seemingly asleep. Diluc couldn’t make out their face even after making a coming closer, so he decided to take the risk and summoned a small wisp of flame.
The dancing light illuminated everything in a small radius and what he saw made him jolt and take a step back. You were the mystery knight.
Why are you still a knight? Where were you? Who injured you?
Still shocked by the previous revelation, Diluc accidentally knocked over the breastplate with his foot and it fell on it’s side with a loud thump.
You woke up.
“What… Who?”, you stirred and half sat on the elbow: “Ah, it’s you” and saw him :”What are you doing here?”.
Caught red handed, Diluc didn’t find any words - it was so sudden and unusual to be caught unaware, and because of that doubly unpleasant.
“This is my winery and I am free to do whatever I want”, he decided to hide the awkwardness behind the faux annoyance.
“Easy, easy” you half smiled, half yawned: “I just managed to fall asleep”. You yawned again and blinked at him with sleepy tired eyes.
“I have sleep medicine if you want some”
You got surprised and touched by his sudden responsiveness: “Thank you, but I think painkillers would be better. My body is aching and that’s the main problem”.
Maybe because of the trembling, dancing light or maybe because of the recent sleep you imagined worry and pity twisting his facial features.
“I have it too. Wait here”, he quickly replied and vanished into the dim darkness of the winery, not giving you any time to answer, as you were left to sit and wait for him. Diluc, to your own surprise, happened to be extremely stealthy, able to move without producing a single sound.
“Here”, you first heard and then saw him,as Diluc used pyro vision to light the nearby candlestick and then opened the medicine vial he brought and handed it to you: “Drink it all”.
“Thank you”, you whispered to him, taking the painkiller before making a big gulp. The taste was horrible, so horrible in fact that you almost immediately started to violently cough. Well, if it’s as effective as foul, then I will be good as new in no time, you thought to yourself, suppressing the urge to throw up.
Diluc stood nearby and observed your reaction, his hand extended on his own when the coughing started as he awkwardly tried to pat your back in the gesture of comfort. “I will be here with you until you fall asleep”, he stated once the fit stopped and then, seeing your highly raised brows explained further: “Painkiller takes time to work. Tell me if you won’t feel better”.
You nodded in response, and closed eyes, listening to the sensations of your body. Your injuries still burned and screamed and throbbed, yet a strange numb sensation started to slowly surround you. Just like Diluc said, medicine would need time to fully settle in.
“If you're here can you talk with me?”, you decided to shorten the time in conversation: “Ijust wanted to talk with you. For a really long time”.
“About what?”, he allowed himself a shadow of the smile, Diluc that you used to know peeking through the gloomy facade, like a long awaited sun or it’s reflection on the tranquil mirror of the water surface. Next words stuck in your throat, bitter and acidic and totally unfit, and you had to force them out through your own hesitance to destroy this calm.
“What happened that day? The day before you left. I asked Jean and Kaeya and other knights who were present with you, yet no one said anything”, the water surface bubbled and the visage of that old, sunny Ragnvindr shattered into thousand pieces. The person before you adopted the same cold facade of annoyance and indifference.
“Why do you need to know it?”, he answered the question with another question and you sensed barely buried hurt and grief.
“You leaving hurt. A lot”
“That’s why you are still a knight?”, you quickly nodded at that.
A minute passed by and he still stood, without saying a single word, thinking what to do. On one hand, he didn;t want to open up, the story of his eighteenth birthday was incredibly painful and personal experience to be shared so freely, on the other hand he yearned for your understanding.
"Alright", he broke the silence:"Let's make a deal, you answer my questions and I'll tell you the whole story after. Deal?"
"Deal".
Diluc looked at you again, looked at the bruises and cuts, still peeking through the bandages and for a second his mind lit up with one thought alone: what disgusting bastard did that to you. He suppressed the rapidly rising rage, deciding to start from the most important.
"Is my leave the only reason why you decided to stay?" his heart picks up the pace again, he needs to know the answer.
"Basically yes, you knownI didn’t do it for my parents… I just.. That tragedy, I know it's not my place, but… I always wanted what happened to you. I asked this question to myself everyday and night, and I missed you terribly".
His breath hitched and he lowered his gaze. For some reason you always managed to fluster him with the words alone, even if it wasn't your intention.
"Your parents must be happy", h e changed the topic, stifling the heat in his heart.
"Yeah, they're ecstatic that I stopped being difficult and made their aspirations real. Hm, do you have any other questions?"
"What happened to you? ",he pointed at the bandages covering most of your body.
"Ah, catching treasure hoarders does that to you, usual stuff", you dismissed his concerns and Diluc started seeing red from the way your voice remained so calm and unbothered. Usual stuff? Usual stuff?!
"Grandmaster could send anyone else", he snapped:"Favonius Order has more than plenty of vision holders, they should've sent one, instead of you! You could die!".
Diluc’s sudden explosion left you speechless, but soon your own weaved words of irritation:"Ordo Favonius doesn't consist of Jean and Kaeya only. We can't let them handle all the hard and dangerous business all the time. Ordinary people like me can still help, even if the gods didn’t favour us. Don't think of me as some helpless idiot just because I have no shiny vision to show off"
Your heated response seemed to work and Diluc turned red from embarrassment, realizing how annoyed you got, despite the worry for your health and still present anger at the other knights for letting you get hurt. He also didn’t like how you looked at him, reprimanding and disappointed.
"Alright, sorry", he cleared his throat:"where were you before? I haven't seen you anywhere"
"City gates aren't the only thing that needs guarding. I was sent to the Liyue border, to make sure that no treasure gang crosses it. I think I will get sent there again, once I fully recover".
Diluc got angry at that too, yet this time he suppressed unpleasant feelings, already knowing how you will rebuke and reprimand him again. There's no convincing to be done, as you won't change your opinion. You left him no choice for what he was going to do.
"Alright, you answered all my questions", he said before changing topic again:"Did painkillers start working? I have another".
Being so engrossed in the conversation you forgot about the ache, yet once he mentioned it your body started to hurt with a renewed strength.
"Yes, I would like one", you decided and Diluc vanished in the unlit hall yet again.
"Here", he handed the small bottle to you already opened. The new substance was different, sweet and viscous. You managed to take two sips before your eyelids started to feel up with lead, and soon even lifting a hand seemed like a highly arduous task. Whatever the thing that Diluc gave you wasn't a painkiller.
"What…", you uttered, before your body relaxed and you fell asleep once again. Diluc bent over, looming over your unconscious form, as his hands carefully took the bottle away. He didn’t want it to somehow fall and injure you
This is a necessary measure, Diluc assured himself, before making a plan of actions. He would need to fake your disappearance and forge enough leads to direct investigation into the completely opposite direction, but now he needed to wake Adelinde up and ask her to prepare the room in the basement. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable in your new home.
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Text
Unrequited
azriel (acotar) x reader
Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between
*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!
word count: 3927
---------------------------------
The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.
Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.
You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.
It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.
You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.
At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.
You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.
You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.
You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.
The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.
Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.
“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.
“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.
The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”
“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”
“How pricey is pricey?”
She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.
After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.
“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.
“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.
“Ugh, I hate you y/n”
“I hate you too Mor”
“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.
The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.
While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.
“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”
“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”
“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”
You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.
“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”
“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.
“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it
---------------------------------
After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.
The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.
“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words
You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.
---------------------------------
The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.
You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”
She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.
---------------------------------
Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.
Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”
Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.
Nesta.
You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.
From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.
Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.
Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.
“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.
There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.
He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.
“Did you design these? They look amazing!”
“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”
“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.
You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.
“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.
“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.
“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle
Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.
Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.
“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.
He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.
Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.
Silence.
Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”
Silence again.
Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.
You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.
You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.
Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.
---------------------------------
Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.
“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”
“I just took a walk”
“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”
“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”
You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”
You pulled him into a hug
“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.
Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.
You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.
Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”
“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”
“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.
The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.
“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“
You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.
“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.
you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.
Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”
“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.
With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”
He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.
---------------------------------
You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.
Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.
While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.
You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.
The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.
You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.
Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.
The sound of a clatter.
Receding footsteps.
A crimson stain blooming.
Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.
868 notes · View notes
wackatoshi · 3 years
Text
booty call
(time-skip) sakusa kiyoomi x reader
synopsis: (a lil alcohol, n.sfw themes obvs lol but nothing explicit) booty call or butt dial? sometimes, they can be one and the same.
horrible pick up lines, msby interactions, humour, sakusa’s a smooth texter... enjoy
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When was the last time you felt the touch of another human being? Too long — which is why you’re marinating at home like a sad old sponge, deprived of affection, dousing your loneliness with a drink.
You tilt your head back, letting the last few drops trickle down your throat, fingers wrapped around the neck of a cheap wine bottle. It sends a buzz through your body, a sensation that pales in comparison to the magic of hands on hands, the warmth of someone’s skin pressed against yours.
Your bleary gaze lands on the phone — phones? you swear there’s two of them — propped on the coffee table in front of you.
Before you can think twice, you’re reaching out for it, fingers tapping through your passcode in a blurred hurry.
Before you can think twice, you’re texting your designated booty call.
At least, you think you are.
+
Sakusa Kiyoomi’s spending a casual night in with his teammates. He’s sitting on Atsumu’s couch, leafing through a book, when someone’s phone starts to ping with a ricochet of notifications. For the most part, he ignores it (because it’s half-past-nine, so it certainly can’t be his), until Atsumu glides over to the counter to have a peek.
“Oi,” he calls, a brow hiking up his face. “Omi. Someone’s messaging you.”
Sakusa furrows his brows in disbelief. Instantly, another six deafening dings burst through, making his phone jolt on the counter like it’s been shocked.
Atsumu drops his head to peer down at the messages. All of a sudden, his face breaks out into a devilish smirk, triggering all of Sakusa’s fight or flight instincts. He abandons the book, leaps to his feet and snatches the phone from the table.
He takes a single glance, and immediately blanches. His notifications are polluted with a string of raunchy messages, all from an unknown number. Even as he’s punching in the passcode, they keep coming, one after the other, an inundation of thirsty pleas clogging up his phone.
Frantically, he pulls up the chat and skims up to the top of the twelve new messages, each text horrifying him more than the last.
YOU: hey boo 👻
YOU: hiiiiiii
YOU: ☺️☺️☺️ feelin some typa way....you down...? it’s me. going
YOU: timber
What the hell. Sakusa scrolls on, in spite of himself.
YOU: where r u
YOU: i wanna [redacted] your [redacted] until u [redacted] ☺️☺️☺️ wkieowkskwiwk yes i do ahohga
YOU: rearrange my Guts like a scrabble board. desecrate my temple. plunder my down UNDER
YOU: please
He attempts to form a response, but your messages are incessant.
YOU: call me galileo coz im gonna make u see stars tonight 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩
YOU: name one thing wetter than the ocean
YOU: ;)
His face starts to burn. He’s not sure if it’s out of sheer embarrassment for your sake or something else entirely. He brushes the latter possibility away, because that would be absurd, he doesn’t even know what you look—
YOU: (Attachment)
Oh.
Okay, well, the face certainly doesn’t match the messages. He hates that his knee-jerk reaction is that you’re cute, even if the photo’s a blurry selfie bedazzled by a glittery Snapchat filter. Squinted eyes, puckered lips, adorable cheeks. He wonders, for a second, if you’re being catfished, until—
YOU: (Video Attachment)
And there you are, in all your ratty boxer-shorts-and-tee-shirt glory, making sweet love to your dispassionate carpet. Sakusa stares in abject horror. God, you must be completely off your face to be compelled to send something like this. He can just make out the faint sound of Nicki Minaj in the background, spitting a volley of encouraging rap verses while you flop around on the floor like a freshly-caught salmon.
If there’s anything impressive, he thinks, dryly, it’s your lack of shame.
“Oh?”
A voice beside his ear. One syllable, saturated in a knowing lilt.
With a start, Sakusa quickly switches his phone off, which only makes the whole situation look a hell of a lot more suspicious than it really is.
Atsumu, hovering close over Sakusa’s shoulder, can barely suppress his glee.
A tense moment passes between them. Sakusa stares him down, while his mind races, frantically searching for a way to disarm this ticking time bomb of a misunderstanding before it detonates into chaos.
Sakusa takes a deep breath.
“Don’t—”
“Sakusa’s got a booty call!”
Stunned silence descends upon the room. Heads turn, all movements frozen, and Sakusa can almost hear the rest of his team’s collective five-and-a-half brain cells lagging as they process the news. Before he can react, they’re all swarming around him like bees, buzzing with probing questions and teasing jibes.
“Who?” Bokuto demands, his eyes wide as an owl. “Who?”
Hinata’s over the moon.
“Congratulations!” he gushes, so sincerely Sakusa almost catches himself feeling bad. “I’m so happy for you! We all knew someone would come around, eventually!”
Sakusa frowns. “What do you mean—”
“Wait, really!” Inunaki exclaims, bounding over. “Show me!”
“Dude,” Atsumu laughs. “Do you even know what a booty call is?”
“Booty call?” he asks, his face crumpling with disappointment. “I thought you said beauty haul.”
“Enough,” Sakusa snaps, mildly panicking because his phone is vibrating yet again, much to everyone’s intrigue. “It’s not a booty call. Someone’s just got the wrong number.”
“Sure,” Atsumu sings. “Omi’s got a lover.”
“I don’t,” he bites again, and swats the wandering eyes away before checking the latest string of texts.
YOU: ;)))))((((()((((
YOU: coming? ha
YOU: get it
Sakusa starts typing his message.
SAKUSA: you’ve got the wrong number.
A pause. He hopes this is the end of it, until those three terrifying little dots bounce up on the bottom of his screen once again.
YOU: lmaoooo what
YOU: stop playiniwijek277383$:893&!:$3898 o nwmmaj
YOU: that was my butt btw
He scowls.
SAKUSA: you’re texting the wrong person...I don’t even know who you are.
You start to type again.
YOU: ...
YOU: ok thanos 😓
The easy solution would be to block you. But for some convoluted reason, Sakusa is not interested in easy tonight. 
SAKUSA: who are you??
YOU: (Liked Your Message)
YOU: i askjj myself the same think every day :&&’l
SAKUSA: I think you should go to sleep
YOU: without me? ;)))
He doesn’t even bother to point out your blunder. You’ve already made enough of a fool out of yourself in front of him, anyway.
SAKUSA: please stop
YOU: fine :(
YOU: ...
YOU: WAIT A SEXOND
Sakusa waits.
(And waits.
And waits some more.)
A second passes, a minute passes, but the chat stays silent. And even though there’s not single peep from you or his phone for the remainder of the evening, Sakusa, for reasons far beyond him, keeps checking.
+
The next morning, you are nursing a terrible hangover.
A pounding headache behind your eyes, a discomfort over your hipbones — you shift the fabric of your shorts down and see a blossoming bruise on either side of your hips. Huh, did you actually end up getting some, only to forget the entire shebang?
Groggily, you reach across for your phone and open up your messages. One new text.
UNKNOWN: you there?
With a frown, you scroll up the conversation. As your hazy mind works to translate the text to words, the words to understanding, you almost scream with horror.
The picture. The video. The memories come flooding back to you. It plays for a fleeting second, and you catch all but a glimpse of your limp body smacking down on the floor with relentless force, before quickly scrolling away. But the harm is done, your mind is scarred.
Well, at least that explains the bruises.
Somehow, it only manages to get worse.
YOU: kiss
YOU: 💋*
YOU: soz typo
YOU: let’s make music coz i got a set of congas that go RATATATATATA
YOU: you must be poseidon because MY—
You stop there, pinching the bridge of your nose to allay the wave of humiliation drowning your dignity. The poor person on the other end. Their horrified responses are probably going to be branded into your mind forevermore.
Maybe you should just sweep this whole encounter under the rug.
Or maybe, you think, as your fingers tentatively start to type out a text, you should apologise.
YOU: hi. it’s me again. you were right, I had the wrong number. I’m so sorry
You’re about to launch your phone into the sun when it dings back with a response.
UNKNOWN: yeah, you’re good. not at flirting though
Oh? Your fingers fly across the screen before you can think.
YOU: really? but I kept you intrigued, didn’t I?
UNKNOWN: like a child at a circus
YOU: damn what kind of circus u taking ur kids to?
UNKNOWN: idk, the kind where people make complete clowns of themselves i guess
You swallow down a laugh.
UNKNOWN: what happened to you last night anyway? did you just pass out?
YOU: i did <3 thanks for ur concern
UNKNOWN: lol
UNKNOWN: the price you pay for a free show
YOU: shut up omg
UNKNOWN: can’t lie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at a floor so lovingly before
Oh, they’re teasing. You fight off a smile from working its way across your face.
YOU: very funny. now can I just trust that u will delete all trace of this train-wreck from ur phone 🥺
UNKNOWN: of course.
YOU: if I see it going around...
UNKNOWN: I think if people wanted to see an earthworm so badly they’d just go outside
YOU: SHUT UP
UNKNOWN: :)
Shoot. Why are you blushing over a smiley face at ten o’clock in the morning? This is absurd. You need a coffee, stat.
YOU: sadly I can’t reverse the damage, but would a coffee suffice?
There’s a long delay, and you start to panic.
YOU: or I could just venmo the $ to you. either works!
UNKNOWN: are you asking me if I want to get coffee with you? when you don’t even know my name?
YOU: names are irrelevant now. u have seen too much :/
UNKNOWN: maybe, but not all.
Your face flushes. You pause, fingers hovering over the keys for a moment, contemplating a smooth riposte.
UNKNOWN: sorry I’m walking, can’t text
A wave of disappointment slumps over you.
UNKNOWN: facetime?
Okay.
Okay okay okay okay okay okay.
You start to pace around your room, all too aware that you are still in pyjamas, your hair looks like a birds’ nest, and your voice sounds like you swallowed a brick the night before. It’s a disaster.
But so was last night, and yet this stranger still seems to be friendly.
YOU: sure
Your phone starts to vibrate, an unknown caller ID flashing across the screen. For a moment, you consider cancelling and blocking the number altogether, but the desire to put a face to the mystery behind the messages gets the better of you.
You accept the call.
His face pops into view — a masked man with black curls falling over his face like wisps of ivy, eyes dark as night, and two moles above his right brow, like the beginnings of a constellation. He raises a hand to shift down his mask.
“Hey.”
You hitch a breath. This man looks like he could be a reincarnation of Adonis, sent into the world as evidence that all those legendary gods really did exist once upon a time, and that some of them looked like this.
“Hi,” you reply, reverent.
He’s so cool, so collected. He brushes a few locks of hair from his face — a casual move that sends your heart skipping beats faster than you skip songs.
“I’m Sakusa.”
“Hi, Sakusa,” you breathe.
His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly.
He looks so familiar, but you can’t quite figure it out between your splitting headache and the way his gaze keeps flickering from you back to wherever he’s walking. Actor? No, surely you’d remember. Singer? That would be plain unfair. Model? You wouldn’t put it past—
“So,” he starts, wryly. “About that coffee.”
“Yes,” you rush to agree. “Coffee. It’s very good. Do you? Coffee?”
He laughs, shortly.
“You’re not drunk again, are you?”
“No.” You feel it, though, what with this man’s voice bearing a timbre that is downright intoxicating. But one long look at those coffee-coloured eyes would be enough to keep you up all night. 
So you let him talk — he’s just like his texts, terse and concise, but isn’t brevity the soul of wit? He keeps you on your toes, with a dead-panned quip here and there, eliciting laughter out of your awful hangover. It turns out that you’re not even that far away from each other at all, a train station or two at most, which is some stroke of sheer luck. Sakusa starts to tell you about his favourite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that nobody seems to have discovered yet. 
“A coffee snob?” you tease.
He studies you, through the screen, and you almost feel the weight of his gaze as if he were right in front of you. He smiles, softly.
“I prefer to keep a low profile.”
And just before you hang up, with the details of a coffee shop date still fresh in your mind, you have the sense to ask for his full name.
“Kiyoomi,” he supplies. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
Rings a bell, doesn’t it? But when you tell him yours, he repeats it, and all you can think about is how your name has never sounded so wonderful before.
It’s not until you hang up, his name echoing in your memory, that you run a Google search for this man. Thousands of results. A plethora of pictures, teeming with irrefutable evidence of his good looks. 
And oh, God.
You lift your gaze from your phone to stare at your closet door, where your brand spanking new work uniform hangs off the hook, bearing the emblem of a gold-trim eagle that blinks back at you, eyes narrowed as if to say—
What the hell have you just done?
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daughter-of-sapph0 · 2 years
Text
humans hate being lonely. not just in the sense that we need to be around other people, or even other species like pets, but in the fact that we desperately want alien life to exist. for the longest time, people thought that alien species lived on Mars, Venus, Mercury, the moon, Jupiter, Saturn, and even inside the sun. when people saw the dark side of Venus glowing through their telescopes, they assumed it was the inhabitants of Venus burning large portions of their forests. people assumed that lines on the surface of Mars were canals dug by intelligent life to transport water from the poles to the equator. when we finally were able to closely observe the surface of the moon and found no evidence of life, majy people believed that there was still life on the moon, just on the far side, hiding from us, because they don't want to be noticed. France had an award of 100,000 francs to anyone who could successfully communicate with people on another celestial body, except for Mars, because that was considered far too easy to achieve. even today, scientists theorize that life might have once existed on Mars (albeit microbial life), or that jovian or saturnian moons contain single celled or multi celled organisms in their deep oceans underneath their thick icey crusts.
humans hate being alone in the universe. we don't want to assume that we're the only life that exists. because it's terrifying. imagine the universe existing for hundreds of billions of years, and the only life that exists in any of it is on one tiny blue ball orbiting a fairly average star. that life only existed on that planet, and maybe a few of its neighbors after humans developed space travel, and that's it. no one else. the rest of the universe is just.... empty.
it's like walking through a mall or a school when no one is there. it's unnerving. creepy, even. this place is so empty, yet it's supposed to be filled with people. it's designed to have hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of people inside at once. but no one is here. even creapier are places completely devoid of any sign of humanity. liminal spaces. "the backrooms". there's no furniture, no windows, no doors. yet this building was designed for people to work in. but now it's just... empty. it fills you with questions about the unknown. "where did everyone go? what happened to this place? are they just gone, or are they dead? how long has this place been like this? am I truly alone here?" these are all questions scientists ask about the universe. so much than many theories have been created as to why we seem so alone.
maybe we aren't interesting enough. maybe all the aliens are so advanced that they see us as little ants and have no reason to interact with us. or maybe we're the first life to exist. an early bloomer in the universe, where all other life is just barely starting to evolve. or maybe we just barely started looking, and we can't expect to find life right away. we've barely scratched the surface on exploring the universe, so we just need to keep searching to find life.
there's also more unnerving theories. maybe all life wiped itself out in a giant war so deviating that no traces or evidence of life even exists anymore. or maybe there's some great barrier that all life has to cross, and it's nearly impossible to cross that barrier. if that barrier is something like agriculture or civilization or technology and we already crossed it, then we made incredible progress and we're one of the first to survive the barrier. but if the barrier is something else, like full on nuclear war, or a planetary ai turned evil, or something else, and we have yet to cross that barrier, then we have a rough road ahead of us.
but out of all those theories, the one that most scientists, including myself, simply refuse to believe is the simple "there is no other life, and we are completely alone" theory. because it's just so anticlimactic. it's sad to think about. we don't want to be alone. we want to expand our knowledge and reach out and discover more and eventually, hopefully, interact with life not from Earth. no one wants to think that we're truly completely utterly alone.
because humans hate being alone
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therealvinelle · 3 years
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How do you believe Carlisle feels about Esme? How would their break up go? Would he ever cheat on her? I mean like emotionally?
He loves her.
I don’t doubt that his feelings for Esme are genuine, that he respects and cherishes her and wishes to spend his life with her. Esme, too, worships the man.
My complete lack of faith in this ship comes from the fact that they’re together for the wrong reasons and not compatible. 
The Bad Beginning
Carlisle had spent centuries searching for likeminded, he never did. In the end he succumbs and starts creating his own, first Edward and then Esme, and to his joy they both agree to do the diet.
Esme’s transformation was entirely an impulse on his end. He saw this delightful, vivacious young woman he’d known ten years ago lie broken and dying in the morgue, a Jane Doe declared dead, she was all too easy to steal. She was too far gone for him to have time to think it over, and so he went «alright let’s do this. I imagine it seemed rather like God had sent her to that morgue specifically. We learn from Midnight Sun that romance wasn’t on his mind at all (even if it was, that wouldn’t make their marriage more functional) and he expected nothing of her. He bit her because he didn’t want Esme Platt to die.
Esme, of course, wakes up into this new life under surreal, heavenly circumstances. Her child is still dead - but here is the mythic, pedestaled Dr. Cullen, now her savior and more wonderful than ever. To back myself up with the books:
Esme had already been in love with Carlisle—much to his shock—but not through any mystical, magical means. She’d met Carlisle as a girl and, drawn to his gentleness, wit, and otherworldly beauty, formed an attachment that had haunted her for the rest of her human years. Life had not been kind to Esme, and so it was not surprising that this golden memory of a good man had never been supplanted in her heart. After the burning torment of transformation, when she’d awakened to the face of her long-cherished dream, her affections were entirely his. (Midnight Sun, chapter Bloodtype)
Carlisle, on his end, hadn’t had the idea at all until Edward said “Dude, she’s into you, go for it.”
I’d been on hand to caution Carlisle about her unforeseen reaction. He’d expected that she would be shocked by her transformation, traumatized by the pain, horrified by what she’d become, much as I had been. He’d expected to have to explain and apologize, to soothe and to atone. He knew there was a good chance that she would have preferred death, that she would despise him for the choice made without her knowledge or consent. So the fact that she had been immediately prepared to join this life—not really the life, but to join him—was not something he was ready for.
He’d never seen himself as a possible object of romantic love before that moment. It seemed contrary to what he was—a vampire, a monster. The knowledge I gave him changed the way he looked at Esme, the way he looked at himself.
More than that, it was very a powerful thing, choosing to save someone. It was not a decision any sane individual made lightly. (sic)
I’m not entirely void of authorial intent - I get that this was supposed to be romcom where the cute nerdy guy has no idea the girl is interested. 
But, what I see is that after centuries of being alone, never finding anybody who shared his values, Carlisle finally has these two people who share his ideals, the only two in the world. He’s had countless friends, but it never worked out because of that damn diet. But, now he has these two people, and one of them is a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman who’s in love with him.
I imagine falling for Esme was easy. It was just so perfect, simply by being Carlisle Cullen he could make her happier than any other man, and given their shared diet, he wanted her by his side always, just as he did Edward. And this was it for him, really, to Carlisle Cullen Esme might as well be the only woman in the world because she’s the only one who'll share his lifestyle. He also felt responsible for her.
I don’t at all doubt their sincerity or affection for one another.
However, they did not fall for each other for each other’s sakes. Esme fell for the ideal since childhood, and Carlisle fell because she was perfect. Stick them in an AU and it won’t happen.
The Slippery Slope
Where they run into trouble is firstly that Esme doesn’t share these ideals, nor value human life for its own sake. Now, I’m not asking her to be a saint - but over the course of these books we had some lapses that I find pretty damning. 
She wanted Edward back in Forks, when this would almost certainly mean the death of Bella Swan, simply because to Esme having Edward nearby > a person’s life. This wasn’t the case for Carlisle, he made it extremely clear he wanted Edward to leave.
During the “Kill Bella?” vote, she was in favor of whatever meant Edward would stay.
Carlisle, having failed to get anywhere with talking sense into Edward, sends him home to his mother for an intervention. What happens next is that Esme gives Edward her blessing to eat the delicious girl if he wants to. Now, we can’t know specifically the talk Carlisle and Esme had before this, but I can’t imagine it was this. Also, damn, what a miscommunication.
Esme simply doesn’t have a problem with the deaths of individual humans, and she will put her loved ones above all other things, even if it’s a minor inconvenience. Keeping Bella alive only becomes her priority after Edward makes it clear he wants this.
Now, Carlisle’s standards have been worn down over the centuries, he just wants his family to try not to eat people on purpose, that’s how low the bar is. Tragically for his marriage, Esme is stumbling over said bar.
The further trouble they run into is that I don’t think they’re very compatible people.
Esme means well, but she’s peculiar, to put it extremely nicely. Her ambition in life is to LARP the human life, right down to being a master chef of something her species can’t eat, which could be sweet if she did other things. She doesn’t, the closest she gets is designing homes for her family. There’s being single-minded, and then there’s Esme, who appears to have honed herself into someone who exists only to be the housewife.
This leads to bizarre behavior - for instance in Midnight Sun when Edward has realized he’s in love, he sits around laughing to himself like a lunatic while playing the piano. Something happens with Rosalie, who runs out of the house in humiliation. Esme, responding to all this, gives her infamous “the best and brightest of us all” pep talk.
It’s just such a weird scene, even accounting for the inhumanity of Twilight vampires this is weird.
Mostly, thought, it is Esme’s interests and desires in life that I find so at odds with Carlisle’s. She wants to be an improved human, living the shinier, better, life without actually embracing the inhumanity of vampirism, while Carlisle is doing the human thing because he wants to be a doctor and save lives. Before that, he was travelling the world, living with normal vampires, using his eternity to study and pursue meaning in life. Now, they end up in the same place, with similar goals - wanting to blend in with humans - but the motivation is the polar opposite.
Which in turn means that as the world turns and their lives inevitably change, the way they live will have to change. This will spell trouble.
There’s also me having a strong suspicion these two don’t have much of a physical relationship, if any. Meyer specifically referred to their relationship as spiritual, and that fits the vibe we get from them in the books. Quite notably, Rosalie and Emmett were impossible to be around when they were newlyweds, while Carlisle and Esme weren’t a problem at all. 
Not to mention what Esme longed for all those years was very much an ideal of a man, which to me doesn’t immediately point to a very physical attraction.
The Penultimate Peril
Would he cheat on her, you ask. Answer is yes, they’re both cheating emotionally with Edward. No. 
He’s with her because he wants to be, and feels responsible for her. More, developing the kinds of feelings necessary for an emotional affair isn’t really on the table for him, since everyone else in the world is either a. one of his kids or the Denali, b. an unrepentant man-eating demon. So, unless Tanya’s feeling frisky, Carlisle doesn’t have anybody to cheat with.
(I’m here defining an emotional affair, which as I understand it is a bit hard to define, as a romantic, but non-physical entanglement. The cheating party has to know their partner wouldn’t be cool with it for it to count in my eyes.)
As for physically cheating on her, nope. God no, not ever. Unless something really convoluted like the plot of Blue Moon unfolded, but that’s really more a case of Esme pimping out her husband to her daughter-in-law, so everyone’s to blame here.
The end
I think the breakup can happen in any number of ways, but I think either way it will be sudden. 
These two aren’t going to go “you know, I think we’ve grown apart” because Esme would never acknowledge that nevermind walk up to Carlisle and say it, and if Carlisle realized things aren’t working he’d still want to stick it out for her sake.
I think it’ll be sudden, it’ll happen as the immovable object that is them is hit by an unstoppable force. One will go someplace the other can’t follow. Maybe when the Cullen coven splits down the middle, and they’re on each their own side of the chasm, or maybe some other cause entirely.
It’ll devastate them both, but given the people these two are, I think it’s inevitable.
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I straight up check your profile daily for the southern raiders analysis you’re working on. 👀👀 where IS IT 😩
bRUH I am so excited to drop this analysis you have no idea (It’s creeping up to 22k+ I am gonna cryyyyyyyyyyyy). The only problem is that my TSR analysis and “Moon theory” are so incredibly hard to structure and articulate. I’m happy you’re so excited for it, though!!! Truly, it’s an honor. I’ll give you a taste of my madness and what’s to come, but be warned: it may be a bit hard to follow because TSR (from how I’ve come to understand it) is about the vagueness of beginnings, endings, and cycles, so there isn’t really a starting point for me to begin with. (So it may seem a tad bit like a ramble in some points that I haven’t fleshed out yet/am summarizing for this ask)
This analysis has me on trails like THIS brilliant nonsense, and I am 1000000000% here for it:
Roku: “The spirit's name is Koh, but he is very dangerous. They call him The Face Stealer.”
Katara: “We’re going to find the man who took my mother from me.”...“That’s him. That’s the monster.”
Lion Turtle: “To bend another's energy, your own spirit must be unbendable, or you will be corrupted and destroyed.”
Roku: “When you speak with him, you must be very careful to show no emotion at all. Not the slightest expression, or he will steal your face.”
Hama: “Congratulations, Katara. You’re a bloodbender.”
(If Katara had killed Yon Rha, she would be giving up her identity--her face. Not only would she have become a killer, but she would be killing what made her Katara)
Aang: “Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”
Forgive him--approach him for what he is, not the faces your memories or your heart are having him wear. See him for the pathetic man he is in that moment right in front of you.
Aang’s forgiveness is seeing someone for the sum of their parts. It’s judging them and seeing through into their very soul, just like the Firebending Masters saw through Zuko being the Crown Prince and Aang being the Avatar. That meant nothing to the Masters. What did matter to them was who the boys were right there, right then, right in front of them.
“Why should I hold a grudge against you for something you did in a past life? After all, you’re a different person, now. You’ve come to me with a new face.”
But anyways...
If I can give no other take-away from my analysis and moon theory, it’s that Yin and Yang are not two entities; they are three. I think the fandom’s misunderstanding of it may be why the discourse on TSR (and Aang, Katara, and Zuko) is so black and white (pun intended lol). 
“But Yin and Yang are obviously two things. Don’t you know the symbol?” I hear some people already saying.
Wrong, sir.
It has never been just Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang have never existed as just two things.
They are Yin and Yang and Wu Wei.
(Aunt Wu has her name for a reason, and she has the mark of the wise in her hair for a reason, too...AND she is at odds with Sokka in The Fortuneteller for a reason, too!!!...but that’s for the analysis😉)
Balance isn’t good triumphing over evil. Balance is good and evil. Balance is standing on the flow between two opposites--it’s the compliment that connects them. (The koi fish live in an oasis for a reason.)
I’ll explain what Wu Wei is later in the full analysis (like many things in here), but here’s some of my evidences and proofs for the “Yin Yang trio”:
The Tibetan “Wheel of Dharma”
(I’ll also explain the Wheel and Dharma and etc. later because it has everything to do with Koh and the moon) Long story short, the wheel and its spokes are representative of the 8 steps to enlightenment and the cycle of rebirth. 
Look at the hub of the wheel. It’s a swirl made of 3 parts.
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It is also a white lotus
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Here’s the colored version of the wheel (as an alter):
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Recognize the colors?
BLUE, WHITE (or gold, depending), & RED
These are the “THREE TREASURES” OR JEWELS.
They symbolize DHARMA, BUDDHA, & SANGHA respectively. 
KATARA, AANG, & ZUKO
water, air, & fire
T H R E E
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Bato: “Ice dodging is a ceremonial test of wisdom, bravery, and trust.
Bato: “The spirits of water bear witness to these marks...”
Why does Bato say spirit(s) plural? The Ocean and the Moon are only two spirits. The Ocean can’t be two things. Right?
WRONG
Yue: “The legends say the Moon was the first waterbender. Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves.”
The Moon--singular. The Tides--plural (push and pull)
Lion Turtle: “In the era before the Avatar, we bent not the elements, but the energy within our senses.”
The moon pushing and pulling the tide is the moon bending the energy of its world. 
Katara finding balance between “being too weak to do it” or “strong enough not to” is her bending the energy within herself.
It’s two solutions written as a question but said as a statement.
Yue: “Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves”
THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS IS ABOUT AANG AND ZUKO LEARNING FROM KATARA. Katara had already learned from Aang and Zuko all leading up to TSR. That was her studying. TSR was her test.
TSR is Zuko’s and Aang’s studying. Sozin’s Comet is their test.
Bato: “For Sokka, the Mark of the Wise. The same mark your father earned. For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us. And for Aang, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe.”
Aang - Wise (”you’re pretty wise for a kid”)
Katara - Brave (the same mark her mother earned)
Zuko - Trusted (”I was the first person to trust you”)
Sokka - Bato ("I am to have no part in this--you pass or fail on your own.”)
Yin and Yang are nothing without their dance. The Avatar and the Firelord mean nothing if they don’t have a world to rebuild.
The valley means nothing if there isn’t anyone to live in it.
Fighting is useless if there isn’t someone to fight for, otherwise it is “selfish and stupid”
Katara had to have a reason to return from Yon Rha. She needed to have Aang waiting for her. If she didn’t have a reason to stay, then she wouldn’t have a reason to go.
To have a reason to sleep, a person has to have a reason to wake up.
Katara: “Aang. He just took his glider and disappeared. He has this ridiculous notion that he has to save the world alone; that it's all his responsibility.”
Hakoda: “Maybe that's his way of being brave.”
(Bato: “For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us.”)
Katara: “It's not brave! It's selfish and stupid! We could be helping him! And I know the world needs him, but doesn't he know how much we need him, too? How can he just leave us behind?!”
(It was, in fact, not easy for Aang to ‘do nothing’)
Katara: “I understand why you left. I really do, and I know that you had to go, so why do I still feel this way? I'm so sad and angry...and hurt.”
Hakoda: “I love you more than anything. You and your brother are my entire world. I thought about you every day when I was gone, and every night when I went to sleep, I would lie awake missing you so much it would ache.”
(AND YUE IS ONE OF THE ONES TO SAVE AANG IN THE OCEAN FOR A REASON)
Thinking and missing: a matter of mind (who) and heart (want). 
Iroh: “Who are you? And what do you want?”
Sokka: “We need to go back. I wanna see Dad, but helping Aang is where we're needed the most.”
Mai: “I love Zuko more than I fear you.”
BUT YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT THE MOON FOR A HOT SECOND???
I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT THE MOON
I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT 2 MOONS
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OH
OH REALLY???
OH REALLY, ZUKO
A FEW HOURS YOU SAY?
THEN TELL ME, ZUKO
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WHY IS THE SUN GOING UP
WHEN IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT A FEW HOURS LATER
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AND KATARA IS SLEEPING SO YOU CAN’T TELL ME IT’S BECAUSE YOU RISE WITH THE SUN OTHERWISE SHE’D BE WIDE AWAKE DURING THE FULL MOON THAT SHE USES TO BLOODBEND NOT EVEN TWO MINUTES LATER
THIS, MY FRIENDS, IS A HARVEST MOON
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WHICH IS THE LAST FULL MOON OF THE SUMMER 
(and looks off color when it rises/falls because of the angle of the rise/fall in the atmosphere...it’s normal once overhead)
AND SYMOLIZES HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF
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“We’re going to find the MAN who took my mother from me.”
“That’s him. That’s the MONSTER.”
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8 spokes on the wheel
Katara was 8 when Kya was killed
8 steps to enlightenment (the “Eightfold Path”)
8 phases of the moon
8 faces of Koh
“One of your previous incarnations tried to slay me! Be it 8 or 9 hundred years ago” (but time is an illusion, so hundreds mean nothing)
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THE OTHER TWO MOONS THAT ARE CONSUMING MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT???:
1.) The WOLF MOON--the first full moon of the new year (a love between the wolf and the moon in the harshest winters...connection is kindof obvious lmao)
2.) THE THUNDER MOON
The Thunder Moon is the full moon of July. It is also known as the Buck Moon--for when young buck regrow their antlers.
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Yue: “My hair turned white.”
Zuko: *cuts and re-grows his hair*
Aang: “I have hair?”
The Thunder Moon--the full moon of July--is also the beginning of a certain Buddhist holiday.
DHARMA DAY
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WHICH CELEBRATES THE BEGINING OF BUDDHISM AND THE FIRST OF THE 8 STEPS (the first spoke of the Dharma Wheel) TOWARDS ENLIGHTENMENT
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AVATAR IS ALL ABOUT CYCLES
THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS IS ALL ABOUT BREAKING THEM
I haven’t even touched Jung, Koh, Hinduism, and Buddhism yet
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or the fact that Katara and Kya are the only characters in the entire series to wear moons on their clothing and that, together, they form an actual lunar phenomenon
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or why the spirit oasis isn’t a complete circle
or the fact that this thing that Aang is told to chase is just like Whaletail Island:
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or how important the Great Divide and the Solstice are
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AND I’M JUST GETTING STARTED
BECAUSE EVERYTHING IN THE SOUTHERN RAIDERS--RIGHT DOWN TO THE SOUND DESIGN--IS ABSOLUTELY MONUMENTAL IN UNDERSTANDING THE SHOW, ITS MESSAGE, ENERGYBENDING, AND LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE
TLDR: Idk how the heck I’m going to arrange or articulate this analysis because it is WILD. Be warned: There is literally no exact beginning and ending to this analysis because the whole point of Yin and Yang is that is has no beginning or ending (...kindof...), so you’ll have to bear with me once I’m done editing it into something that’s somewhat coherent.
These are just SOME of the things I’ve been able to answer with my moon theory and analysis of The Southern Raiders as it currently stands:
Why “letting go” isn’t really letting go (as we understand it...see: Aang’s confrontation with Koh)
Why Lake Laogai and the Spirit World are symbolically the same thing.
Zuko’s advice to the bullfrog is actually a summary of the show, energybending, the origin of bending, and the definition of Aang’s “forgiveness” I stg
Why “Sokka’s instincts” are the reason Katara yells at Sokka
Believe it or not, every time Katara mentions her mother, it is at specific times for specific reasons.
^^^same thing for the moon, lack of moon, moon positioning, etc.
Katara’s mother’s necklace is more important than we realize.
Who the faces of Koh are and WHY they are there.
The true meaning of Jet’s sacrifice.
Why Jet’s episode about the dam explains the entirety of TSR as it pertains to Katara (all the way down to the little girl who runs to get her doll after the dam breaks)
Why Katara actually DID forgive Yon Rha, and the fact that she doesn’t even know it is proof that she did
^^^^^Aang’s definition of forgiveness is completely misunderstood by the fandom, and the way he “forgives” is sososo much deeper than “moving on”, and it is DEFINATELY by no means “doing  nothing” or “excusing” past actions.
The importance of lightning, Zuko, Aang, and Katara.
The absolutely monumental and not nearly talked about importance of Jeong-Jeong like holy crap.
How Katara and Azula are just as much of a Yin and Yang as Zuko and Aang but not in the way we think they are
Why Koh has the Blue Spirit’s face
Why Koh DOESN’T have the Painted Lady’s face.
Who Ni-Ni from Katara’s campfire story in The Puppetmaster is 
How and why Iroh was able to learn firebending from the Masters even though he didn’t have a partner. 
How/Why Azula had her breakdown and why she saw her mother in the mirror
Why “Leaves from the Vine” and “Four Seasons” are the same song, explain Azula’s downfall, and explain the Yin and Yang of TSR.
Why Katara and Sokka are so often mistaken for parental figures.
Why Aang’s flashbacks to the Air Nomads are so important in understanding TSR.
Why Toph and Suki disappear after the campfire in TSR.
How Hakoda, Gyatso, and Kya are all connected.
Why it is so dang important that Azula shows up in the beginning of TSR.
The importance of the Spirit Oasis.
Energybending, healing with waterbending, Aang’s trauma, and Zuko’s scar.
Why Zuko gives Katara the exact opposite advise in TSR that he gave her in the catacombs. 
How everything could be predicted and read by the moon.
WHY YIN AND YANG ARE THREE THINGS AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THREE THINGS.
HOW ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL OF THIS TIES BACK TO THE MOON AND BUDDHIST BELIEFS--AND YEAH THE MOON AND BUDDHISM AND HINDUISM ARE MORE CONNECTED IN ATLA THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE.
AND HOW IT LEADS INTO OUR MODERN UNDERSTANDING OF THE SELF--BECAUSE JUNG TOOK GREAT INFLUENCE IN HIS DEVELOPING THEORY OF THE CONSCIOUS AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS FROM THE HINDU/BUDDHIST RELIGIONS 
^^^^AND ALSO THE THEORY OF THE SHADOW AND THE PERSONA 
The ocean is a deep, dark, unknown place with a lot of hidden monsters (like Yon Rah). Katara needed a light to find her monster, but she also needed somewhere she could breathe when she came back up for air.
If she didn’t have both Zuko and Aang, Katara would have drowned. 
I wasn’t kidding when I said this was a thesis, and what I’ve said and listed here isn’t even all that I have.
btw This all does line up on the traditional Yin Yang symbol we know and see in the show, but I don’t have enough space here for that lmao. That’ll be in the analysis
I hope you enjoyed this little taste, my friend, because I need to sit down for a hot second before my brain leaks out of my ears. Sorry for the ramble. I promise the analysis isn’t like this lol. This is just me trying to summarize as best as I can. 
***Disclaimer: My points are always subject to change since I am still researching. These are the facts as I’ve found and applied them to the evidences I’ve noted from in the show. I’m always open for friendly discussion or any directions to better sources on Buddhism/Tao/Jung!***
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The Storm
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And it all comes crashing down.
guardian demon!jimin x reader
genre: supernatural, angst, romance, fluff, slow-burn
word count: 4.2k
related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au
Continuation of The Calm
Warning: uhh...very mild violence and blood?? LOL
A/N: okay woww....it’s uhhh IT’S BEEN A WHILE. And honestly, it has been a mixture of....quarantine burnout (is that a thing?? idk this quarantine kinda hit different), wrestling with scene placement, writer’s block, re-writing chunks of stuff, being indecisive about where to end the chapter (ngl i had some pretty killer cliffys LOLL)  i am SO sorry it took so long!! 😫 (the value in having an ✨outline✨) i know i might sound like a broken record, but i cannot stress enough of how thankful i am to your patience and love for this story!! 💜💜💜💜 i hope you enjoy this chapter in spite of how short it is 😭😭😭😭
(Also yes, that scene is 100% inspired by that gif even though i had already planned for it to happen; the gif helped me paint a better picture 🥰)
Tags: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi @definitelynotshady​ @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​
The chase more or less ends with Jimin hauling you up over his shoulder, only to dump you into the shower shortly after. You get him back for man handling you when, as soon as he flicks the shower on, you drag him in with you, clothes and all.
He had sighed, defeated, muttering how much of handful you are but as much as he gripes, he still helped you wash your hair with the barest hints of a smile on his lips. You were more than happy to return the favour, though you don't think your scalp massage was as good as his. Eventually, he drags the both of you out before your fingers turn pruney.
“You sure you don't want me to walk you back to your place?”
You nod your head as you're slipping on your shoes by the front entrance.
“I'll be fine Jimin. It's still day time so nothing will happen.” You assure, finally glancing up to his figure leaning against the wall, arms crossed and dressed in a new pair of black slacks and a silk loose blouse, its sheen like the colour of the ocean under a blue moon. You straighten, walking the few steps to stand closer to him until you pick up the faint smell of his body wash – warm cinnamon spice, the one that lingers on your skin as well. “Besides, I have your...emergency contact so there's nothing for you to worry about.”
“You say that, but you promise you'll actually use it right?”
The question makes you inadvertently inhale, the reluctance barely concealable in that breath of air but you give in, meeting his eyes as you say, “I will. I promise.”
Jimin doesn't say anything for a moment, watching you with those dark irises until you see the little tension on his face relax with the slight sagging of his shoulders. He smiles, “Good.”
Your mouth twitches at a corner and you can't help yourself. You reach up on the tips of your toes, taking his face into your hands to land a quick peck on the centre of those pillowy pink lips.
“Then you have to promise me you'll focus on getting better – don't strain yourself over small things like this.”
He blinks, eyes large at your burst of forwardness, hands that had moved instinctively to hover finally nestle themselves on your waist. You hear him huff through his nose after a while, expression smoothing over before your vision is blurred by his figure leaning down to press a proper kiss to you in return as he sneakily asks, “What if I asked simply because I wanted to spend more time with you?”
Now it's your turn to gape, breath caught in your throat and eyes wide while blinking dumbly. The more you blinked, the more amused Jimin became and the higher the blush creeps up your cheeks until the heat became unbearable. You sputter, stubbornly trying to ignore it.
“T-That's – ! You – ! No, I will not let you coerce me like this.”
He bursts out laughing heartily at the way you pout, head thrown back and all you could do is narrow your eyes up at him indignantly. When he's finally calmed but still sees you all puffed up like an angry hamster, he wraps his arms around to squeeze you to him, an easy-going smile lingering on his face.
“Ah, I least I tried.”
You sigh, “I'm serious Jimin. No horsing around if you can help it okay?”
Jimin thinks the look you're giving him is equivalent to that of a puppy's; all big and glossy and paired with the barest crinkle of worry in your brow, it leaves him no choice but to agree.
“Okay cherub. I promise I won't.” He says gently and only then do you seem satisfied.
“Good.”
Now that that's settled, you find yourself just standing in each other's arms, nothing more to say yet perfectly comfortable where you are. You find yourself fiddling with the small, dainty buttons on his shirt, a distraction to how shy you've slowly become under his attentive gaze.
“I should probably go now...” You mumble though you make little to no effort in actually doing so.
You hear Jimin hum, seemingly agreeing but he also doesn't make to show any signs of letting you go, even comfortably adjusts his hold on you. He also takes the time to place a kiss on your forehead. “Text me when you get home?”
“Mm.” You nod.
You remain like that for another good minute before it takes everything in you to drag yourself away from his arms, picking up your bag to sling onto your shoulder. You already feel the chill of the AC creeping into your arms as Jimin holds the door open for you.
“I'll see you then?” You ask, then chastise yourself for letting slip the little bit of disappointment you feel at having to leave so soon, however there's no taking back your text to Jaehee saying that you'll be on your way (she's definitely not someone you want to delay meeting).
Jimin eyes gleam with a knowing look though, like he's tossing around the idea of teasing you but instead, says playfully, “Of course, can't get rid of me that easily.”
You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head which only seems to satisfy him.
The trip home gave you the time to reflect on yourself and on the events that had happened. There's a lightness to your steps – no doubt finally meeting Jimin after a period of confusion and hurt and letting the floodgates to the emotions you've kept buried free has cleared the clog in your heart. On top of that, to have your guardian demon return the feelings you've long convinced yourself were futile; thought nothing more than a self-sabotaging trap designed by no one but you and your only escape from it was to take the plunge.
Yet here you are, relatively unscathed. To be honest, even now you're still in disbelief.
But you won't dismiss this warm giddiness that's taken over easily, just as how you're leisurely soaking in the rays of the late afternoon sun now. It bathes everything in a glow that has every colour in your eyes appear much more crisp and vibrant, making the city lively. It further brightens your mood.
Once you've crossed the threshold of your home, you immediately hear Jaehee's call of greeting from the kitchen.
“Did you eat yet?” She asked right off the bat as you enter after toeing off your shoes.
“Yeah, I ate before I left.”
She nods, continuing her chopping for what you can only assume is dinner for tonight.
“So...everything worked out okay?”
It's asked tentatively but the question doesn't surprise you as much as it should; whether it's because of Jaehee's prior awareness to your troubles, your deep-rooted friendship, or simply sensing the obvious complete shift in your mood, she very well knows where you've been without having to probe much.
Still, you can't help smiling.
The forecast calls for mild, clear weather like today for the days to follow. It's no doubt something a lot of people will be capitalizing on, a relief from the unpredictable temperatures between the changing of seasons. Perhaps it's with that same mindset, you find yourself being able to swallow back the niggling uncertainty that seems to always follow you.
You'll save your worrying for another day, but for now, you want to hold onto these promised sunny days for as long as you can.
“Yeah,” You breathe, “Everything's good.”
You see Jaehee's lips quirk up, a light smile that lets you know she's just as happy as you are to hear that. But then as she turns towards you, it morphs into a sly Cheshire grin.
“Spill it, girl. I need those details.”
-
The startled gasp that rings out in the dead of night seemed unnaturally loud in the dark spacious room that for a moment, Jimin thought it had belonged to a tormented ghost that had wandered its way in. After a few shuddering breaths did it occur to him that the sound had actually came from him.
His eyes slip shut once again, rubbing them tiredly as he inhales a deep breath before letting it out. Dragging his hand down his face, Jimin sits up, body feeling as if it's made of lead and rolled his neck and shoulders, trying to relieve the joints that are aching dully before reluctantly hauling himself out of bed, the dryness in his throat uncomfortable as is the clamminess of his skin after being drenched by cold sweat – it doesn't take much to know that he won't be able to slip into a blissfully empty state of slumber for the rest of the night.
His feet takes him into the kitchen and his hand grabs for a glass of water which he downs absentmindedly. The drink soothes the burning in his throat but the same cannot be said for the storm slowly brewing inside of him. Eyes as dark as the sky outside the large windows stare out listlessly, his mind slipping into deep thought.
How many times is that now? Four? Five?
For a number of nights, he's been plagued by these dreams – nightmares.
At first they were vague, mostly indiscernible as if shrouded by thick black smoke that whenever Jimin woke from them, the most he would feel is a sense of unease but soon afterwards, the feeling and the memory of it would fade as quick as it came.
But as the days passed, these dreams slowly mutated into something more vicious, taking a hold of his unconsciousness before he had the time to react.
And it was always the same dream.
Not knowing when or how he got there, Jimin would find himself in a formless space, surrounded from all sides by an endless ocean of white veils. They rolled and danced ceaselessly, much like turbulent waves out at open sea and he was the small boat being battered against the powerful force, threatening to capsize. The shifting and turning disoriented him, made his stomach churn and head spin but no matter how stubbornly he tried to run, he could never escape.
So all he could do was stand in place, and as the dancing veils begin to close in on him, the air around would become thinner and thinner until he was gasping for breath, lungs burning with no hope of holding in an ounce of air. Soon after his knees would collapse under him. As he's reduced to this weakened state, it's only then that he'll see it.
Amidst this deceivingly tranquil prison, a figure emerged in the distance, its shape distinctly outlined by the large pale fabric that continue to billow around by an invisible breeze, appearing very much like a ghostly apparition. At the sight, a chill would instantly run down Jimin's spine as if his blood had turned into ice and in the vast silence, only the deafening beating of his heart would fill his ears. For an unknown amount of time, this figure would simply stand ominously without moving. Then suddenly, it would advance, moving at a startling speed and so soundlessly with each blink of his eyes that before he could think, it was already towering over him like a great marble statue.
Like death encroaching.
Jimin could only wait frozen in place by the oppressive force bearing down on him, staring up with shaking pupils and it's then that he knew what it is that looks down upon him.
Divine judgment.
There's a stale and tar-like taste that blooms in his mouth first, then slowly, as the last remains of his strength leaves his body, he finally notices the cold dampness spreading outwards from his chest.
The blade that pierces through him was as dark as the blood it's coated in.
It's here that he wakes from the shock of the phantom pain so intense they momentarily blur the line between reality.
He's not one for superstitions or 'prophetic dreams', being a demon and all but he's by no means unfamiliar with them, especially now when they hit him in the face like this – so viciously and frequently too. A heavy sigh leaves his lips.
The last few days had been quiet; the first in... he's not sure how long. Perhaps that's why he slipped up like this, got caught up in believing that this sweet lie could be true. That maybe, by some miracle, there was a chance for the both of you.
Jimin scoffs a quiet laugh and his mouth twists into a cold smile.
How foolish; to think that they can be more than just wishful thinking.
Heaven is righteous, boasting to have eyes and ears in places without one knowing and yet so frivolous in what they choose to acknowledge.
And it's just his luck that the one time he was counting on that fact, it completely backfired on him.
There's no avoiding this; it's clear that any day now some divine being is going to descend upon him in the name of carrying out justice for the crimes he's committed. If not for the breached guardian contract, then for failing to complete the trials to prove his piety.
Jimin's eyes slips shut, tipping his head down, the ache along his neck and shoulders creeping over him once again – ever lingering, never fading – and all he could do is accept.
Alone in this large and empty penthouse, Jimin felt no anger, no remorse or fear, only a quiet sense of mourning he allowed for himself. However fleeting it may have been, those few days spent with you will be something he'll remember fondly. He thought, if this had been where his luck had went, then he at least can be reassured that it wasn't a complete waste.
Just as his eyes peer back open, the first rays of dawn had begun to bleed through the horizon, dispersing the darkened sky with the coming of a new day. As he watches the sun begin to rise, Jimin's expression hardened along with his resolve.
One thing’s for certain; no matter what happens, he'll keep you safe.
Until the very bitter end.
-
There's something amiss.
He can't quite place his finger on it, but Jungkook didn't go about his day without feeling an inexplainable sense of dread hanging over him like a heavy cloak that won't leave him. It felt as if every nerve in his body is coiled, restless and bracing for something to happen. As such, he's developed an annoying ache across the back of his neck and shoulder which he had to constantly roll in order to dispel some of the built up tension.
It didn't help, so it only made Jungkook endlessly irritated.
Wanting to blow off some of this steam, he had taken to wandering the streets in search of an outlet. Unfortunately, there's only so much he could do given his status in the mortal world. Playing the shoulder devil whispering temptations, tipping the scale between life or death, fortune or misfortune on a person was only fun while it lasted, and Jungkook was a demon who grew bored very easily of those same old basic tricks. Although there's the option of materializing briefly to cause more mischief, it took way too much power to maintain a physical form so at most, he would only be able to have fun messing with one or two souls but not nearly having enough time to really string them along to his heart's content. After all, the thrill of being a demon comes from withering down their prey, dragging them so deep into depravity before they realize it's too late and there's no saving them.
He sighs inwardly, thinking about all the lost potential, especially now that he's in possession of such a fine specimen. How delightful it would be to see the lengths men and women would go to hold onto even a sliver of his attention, to have them so tightly wound around his fingers just to leave them high and dry. Truly, this was the pain of having a great weapon but being unable to use it.
It makes Jungkook consider how more convenient it would be if he had formed contract with someone, similar to what Jimin had done.
Speaking of, he wonders what had become of you and his fellow demon brother, as the last he's heard of either one of you, one was on a war path while the other's aura signature was reduced so greatly that he didn't need to make much of an effort to be scarce. As much as he's tempted to go find out what's become of you both, Jungkook had to hold himself back. He's told himself that after directing you to your lost guardian demon (as you had practically begged him to do), he's vowed to severe his involvement if he knew what was good for him.
Things were obviously only going to get messier, and no doubt he would be catching any of the fallout if he decides to stick around, even if it's just to satisfy his own burning curiousities.
Jungkook continues to wander aimlessly like this, thoughts bouncing from the matters surrounding you pair to toying with the idea of actually finding some hidden cult who's ballsy enough to try a demon summoning (nine times out of ten it's a shoddy job but fuck is it funny to see their faces thinking it had worked, plus he's guaranteed a couple of souls to his count too).
Above, the sun dips in and out continuously, the constant shift in light distracting Jungkook. He watches and notes idly the fast pace in which the clouds travel, how the white wisps grow and the sky begins to look tumultuous until gradually, they become so dense they completely block the sun out altogether. With the warm rays no longer casting down, the world plunges into a gloomy grey overcast.
A frown tugs onto his lips unconsciously, but the premonition of rain was not what troubled him.
He had the mind to quicken his steps when suddenly they falter. It felt like something had told him to stop, so for a moment he stood confused, turning his head in search for a source until Jungkook's gaze stray over to a small, narrow side street. The street looked like a much older part of the city in the style of the buildings; he can't honestly say he's ever noticed this part before so for it to catch his attention....
Jungkook is already taking tentative steps down the rough cobble stone path without realizing, slowly making his way past the few small family owned shops. He's going off solely on this gut-feeling, almost as if in a trance which after blinking, does he notice he's staring at a particular store front of a shop. His brows furrow even more from confusion, not understanding why he was drawn here.
The shop looked like it hadn't been rented out for many years, the paint so worn down and faded that it didn't resemble the rich forest green colour it once was, even peeling in some places to show the wood underneath. The lacquered sign above has also lost its shine, and whatever script that has been written on it has long become indecipherable. Jungkook had to squint just to make out the faint imprint of the letters 'S' and what he thinks might be 'P' and a 'TH'.
Despite the windows being dirtied, he could still tell that inside the shop was nothing but barren space, the wall shelves filled with dust and cobwebs, the tables empty with only traces of the trinkets it once held. Time had let this place be forgotten, erased its name from existing in any memory, yet it's here Jungkook finds himself lingering, wondering why?
What secrets does this place hold?
Naturally, he can't let this anomaly go lest he drives himself mad. Jungkook takes a step towards the shop, a hand outstretched with the intentions of investigating further when from out of his peripheral he sees something. Whipping his head to it, his eyes lock onto a figure standing at the head of the street from where he had came.
The inexplainable driving force he had immediately vanishes, replaced with the sensation of his body going numb all over, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on ends. Not like the presence of this ominous figure on its own incited such a reaction, but it's also in the way it looked.
Tall in such a way that it's imposing, and draped in a pure white cloak, giving away nothing of what lies beneath. The only feature he's able to make out was the golden halo crown encircling it from behind; a stark contrast. There's no questioning whether or not it can be seen by anyone other than himself – this appearance alone clearly did not belong in this world.
It is not of this world.
Jungkook needed to remain calm. He can't afford to let slip that he's unnerved – that's a sure fire way to getting killed first because fear ultimately blinds. Still, he can't stop the tenseness in his shoulders and the ache comes back with a vengeance. Swallowing, Jungkook inhales and jaw clenched, he turns to leave as if having never seen this phantom at all.
His strides are long, determined to put distance between it and himself, all the while his senses are going into overdrive. He's hyper-aware as he swiftly makes his way through narrow streets and alleys, twisting and turning with no rhyme or reason but he already knows he won't be losing this unwanted tail any time soon. So he changes tactics, figuring that he might as well get the jump on it first before giving it the opportunity.
Jungkook apparates out of the alley, appearing in a busy crowded street and just as fast, he changes to a rooftop. Within these few short seconds, he spins on his heels, gathering a fistful of demonic energy in his hand ready to hurl it the moment he sees any hint of white cloth, body instinctively adapting a fighting stance. However, as his piercing topaz eyes dart around, he finds nothing.
The air around him is still, like the overpowering presence had all but disappeared. Down below, he faintly hears the bustling of people, the sound of cars driving by, even now he becomes aware of how hard he's breathing, the adrenaline pumping through his veins has his heart racing.
Still, Jungkook doesn't dare drop his guard, backing away cautiously as if he's on pins and needles. He's focusing all of his senses, trying to pick up anything that might seem strange over the white noise of the city. He listens, until it all goes eerily quiet.
 Jungkook sees before he can react, its speed far more faster than he could have ever anticipated, and all he manages is a sharp, startled gasp. The rest of the air gets blocked by an iron grip around his throat but even then, he's given no time to fully register this as he feels his back crashing into a hard surface with impeccable force and an explosive pain erupts. He chokes on a mouthful of blood.
“Filthy vermin should not waste time struggling so uselessly.”
Jungkook winces, nauseated by the throbbing of his head alone – now he has this voice that seems to be ringing from inside his head.
“The fate of thy life depends on the answer thee giveth me.” The hold tightens and Jungkook swears his neck would give out before he's able to make a sound (how very counter-productive, he thinks in spite of himself).
“Where is he?”
Struggling through the black dots in his vision, Jungkook finally pinpoints the identity of his aggressor. The dry laugh he wanted to let out comes out as a cough but it carries the disbelief and scorn all the same.
White cloak, oppressing aura, immense strength and speed, and a voice that sounded neither man nor woman. There's no mistaken it now.
Fuck, since when was his luck so shit that an archangel finds him first?
-
The clouds had rolled in much faster than Jimin had thought, the sight reminiscent to being under murky waters. He wonders if at this rate, it would darken even further though he supposes he shouldn't bother. After all, this was no mere storm out of the blue.
He raises the cup and takes a sip of his black coffee, closing his eyes as if to savour the bitterness. Jimin doesn't bother to finish the rest of it, even if it's a waste not to. But there's no helping it, not when he was expecting a visitor. He gingerly places the drink aside on the counter first, then redirects his gaze to the large expanse of his windows at a leisurely pace.
There's not a hint of shock as his eyes meet the figure cloaked in white, hovering on the other side of the glass panels. The layers of chiffon flutter softly against the rising winds, the golden glint of each spike on the crown adorning its head menacing, as if it's a weapon in and of itself.
Behind, the sky darkens forbiddingly, and soon after comes the distant rumbling of thunder.
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