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alteon77 · 1 year

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The Bizarre Breeding Habits of Anthropomorphic Personifications: Chapter 1

It's a tale as old as time.

Two idiots fall in love. Two idiots fall out of love.

Neither one of them is expecting a baby to come along and derail their unhappily ever after.

AO3 Here, Masterlist Here

May doesn't know what she's expecting really.

It's… not this, though.

Her life, in her humble and not at all objective opinion, has always turned to crap in some form or another, and this is just more proof of that fact. She thinks as she stares down at the little white stick in her hands that she probably should have seen this coming, probably should have spotted the possibility of this catastrophe from a mile away given her often rotten luck. It's not enough that she was dumped, that she was kicked out of her home. Oh no no no. Now, she gets to be a single mother as well, and the realization of this makes her idly wonder when it is that the universe is going to start cutting her any slack or giving her even an ounce of compassion. She's pretty sure from past experience that the answer to that is a gigantic never.

In her small bathroom, she sits on the edge of the tub, scowling down at the obnoxious pink plus sign on the pregnancy test. She's partly horrified and partly angry, worrying over what in the hell she's actually gotten herself into. This is a disaster of the highest order, nothing less than the stupidest thing she's ever done.

Her power, she knows, is going to be nonexistent while she's pregnant. For her kind, it's almost always this way, and she likely has a very limited time left before it completely disappears for a while. Which, in her opinion, sucks. She likes her power, likes being able to create things from thin air, likes to be able to defend herself. That last one especially is really important. As trouble friendly as she tends to be, the idea of being without her magic (and its ability to protect her) is kind of low key terrifying in the worst way.

And it's not like she can expect any help from this baby's father. Her and Morpheus are finished. Done. Dream of the Endless had cast her out of his realm like a week old bag of trash, banished her from the Dreaming so completely that she was left unable to even dream. He'd looked at her like she was nothing as he'd done it, and she'd known in that moment that she was nothing to him. It had hurt more than… more than she had ever thought he could hurt her. She'd hoped, like the idiot that she sometimes is, that he would seek her out, maybe give her a chance to explain. But she hasn't heard from him in over a month, and she doesn't think she ever will again.

Which is fine with her. Really.

Or at least it will be. Any day now. It takes time to mend a broken heart after all.

She contemplates this horrible mess of hers, the newest in an ungodly long string of them, and thinks she might cry. Or throw up. And knowing that she doesn't want to do either of those things again today, she forces herself to calm. Summoning up the last of her pitiful optimism, she tries to think over this as rationally as she can. This isn't completely terrible. Everything could be okay. Mortals deal with these sorts of things all the time, and they come out of it just fine. Lots of people end up pregnant unintentionally. And she doesn't have to make any decision right this minute. It might be best if she can come to terms with this and then figure out what she's supposed to do about it, figure out how to keep herself safe. She just needs to take a little time to process and think everything over. That's all.

Of course the universe, being the salty bitch that it is, isn't going to give her something as simple as time. Not when it's so much more fun to make things worse for her. Honestly, she probably shouldn't have assumed that things could go anywhere but downhill from there.

When Morpheus had banished her, he'd done so completely, thoroughly blocking her from everything to do with his function in an attempt to ensure that they would never see one another again. And this, on top of his casting her from the realm and verbally lashing out at her, meant that he had stripped her of her ability to dream. Since their split, she hasn't had a single night where she was capable of doing it, and so a week after learning of her pregnancy- when she sleeps and finds herself dreaming- she's… well, shocked is a good word for it.

It takes her an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize, though, that this isn't actually her dream she's experiencing.

She's in a tiny kitchen, the cabinets painted an unusual green as a man putters about, humming a tune under his breath while he works. He's making tea, she thinks, and he doesn't seem to be able to see her. The invisibility is cool for all of five minutes until it starts to freak May out a little, and she finds herself trying to get the man's attention by means of clapping and waving her hands in his face. He doesn't stop what he's doing at all as she does any of this, however, doesn't let up in his work until the distinct jingle of keys being twisted in a lock sounds out through the otherwise quiet space.

And then…. then a human sized dragon trots in the apartment wearing a smart business suit, a few shopping bags clutched between two raptor-like claws, claws that are painted a cute, entirely out-of-place pink.

Not that May really knows what color a dragon should paint their claws. It's not something she's ever had to consider truthfully.

The man isn't even fazed by the dragon's appearance. He presses a kiss to its snout, and May realizes that the creature is also wearing lipstick to match the paint on its talons. May stares, wide eyed, while the dragon shrugs out of a deep purple blazer and sets its bags on the table before plopping down heavily into a wooden chair, a long tail peeking out from under its skirt to curl around two reptilian ankles. Or… she guesses those are the ankles? Do dragons even have ankles? Are they called something else?

Focus, she chastises herself, shaking her head slightly. The name for dragon ankles is super not important right now.

She turns her attention back to what's happening in front of her. It's almost…. sweet, really, how happy the man seems to see the dragon. And odd. It's that too. Not that May's judging. Love is love and every pot's got its own lid. It's frankly none of her business if this particular lid has scales and fangs. Each to his own and all that.

May takes a minute to glance around at the stranger's dreamscape when a few framed photos on a nearby wall catch her gaze. She almost laughs at what she sees there. They're wedding photos of the man and the dragon, him in his tux and her comically done up in a massive white bridal gown. The dragon, May gathers, is his wife. Surprisingly, it doesn't get any less strange as she continues to peruse the pictures. The bridesmaids are all giant cats wearing taco costumes, except for the maid of honor who's apparently a burrito, her fluffy feline head popping up over the edge of the tortilla it's wrapped in, bits of lettuce dangling from the bottom like fringe. And the groomsmen? Why, they're just large bottles of hot sauce with comically massive eyes, each donning black bow ties.

May doesn't know who this guy is, but she's kind of dying to meet him when he's not dreaming. He's got to be interesting as hell if this little slice of his unconscious is anything to go by. Though she does wonder what it says about his marriage that he sees his wife as a dragon. Is that a compliment or an insult? May supposes that as far as dragons go, this one is actually pretty, like something a small child might draw. Her scales are a shimmery lavender that seems to shift with the light, and her eyes glitter green, reminding May of large sparkling emeralds. As the man talks, May moves a bit closer to inspect those iridescent wings where they're curled over the back of the chair, marveling at the otherworldly beauty of them. Somewhat transfixed, she almost reaches out to touch one amidst the peaceful lull of the conversation playing out in front of her.

This easy contentment between the couple isn't to last, however. The tone of the dream shifts abruptly when the man notices his dragon spouse staring kind of… provocatively at the toaster, her long lashes fluttering flirtatiously with the same energy of a young twenty-something chick trying to pick up a guy in a bar. May watches this unfold, unsure of what exactly is happening. They start bickering, and though May doesn't understand any of the words they're exchanging, she easily understands pissed off. It's really a language all its own, and one May is completely fluent in at that.

She thinks, as her eyes dart back and forth between the man and the dragon, that they're fighting over the toaster. Or some imagined infidelity? Or maybe some imagined infidelity involving the toaster? It honestly wouldn't surprise her at all with the utter bizarreness of everything going on here.

Either way, May is so enthralled by this little fight (and the prospect of something getting set on fire) that she almost doesn't notice the door when it pops up. Startled at the feeling of some great shadow looming over her, she looks away from the dragon- now raising its fists like it's about to throw hands with the smaller man- and is puzzled by what she sees.

She frowns at the unusual addition to this mundane kitchen. Well, mundane except for the square off that's about to happen between the well-dressed dragon and the poor guy that's trying to be in a committed relationship with it. Ignoring all that, though, this is really just a normal, commonplace space, and this tall, ornate thing doesn't belong. She walks over to study it, her eyes narrowing while she looks it over. There are designs carved along the frame, strange images worked into the wood of the actual door, and a dark black handle that's practically begging for her to reach out and twist it open.

And like the idiot she can sometimes be, May stretches a hand out to do just that.

It's a bad idea. A bad, bad idea.

When the liquid gushes out from the open door and into the dream she's in, flooding it quickly, May thinks that maybe she shouldn't have done that. By which she means she definitely shouldn't have done that.

The sudden rush is immense, briny water completely filling the space in less than a minute. Instinctively, she holds her breath as it covers her face, as she floats in the little kitchen for a few more seconds. The man and the dragon bob near her, seemingly unbothered while they continue their argument concerning the dragon's affair with the household's small appliances, bubbles escaping their mouths as they go right on yelling at one another.

Ludicrously, May's kind of bummed that there isn't going to be a fire now and that she isn't going to see how this ends. She's reasonably sure that she's team toaster in this whole kerfuffle. Unless the toaster is sentient, of course, in which case it knew what it was getting into by having an affair with a married… er, dragon. But... is it even capable of movement? Can it run away? The toaster, that is. If the dragon's husband decides to enact revenge, will legs or wings sprout from its shiny surface to carry it to safety?

This absurdity, this disorientation of her thoughts, allows May to realize that holding her breath might just be fucking with her actual brain, starving it of oxygen so that she's feeling a bit... well, out of it.

But that... makes no sense. This is a dreamscape, not something that should actually affect her in any real way.

Nonetheless, she resolves to leave this place, a growing anxiety urging her to get the hell away from here. Given that the entire apartment is submerged in water, though, she truthfully doesn't have a lot of options. There's really nowhere else for her to go but through the door, which she does. And once on the other side of it, she's greeted by the sight of light filtering down from above, piercing through the murky depths surrounding her. She's ridiculously relieved to see it, to have that beacon of hope to guide her. After all, it's basic common sense to make for the surface, to get to the air there so she might breathe again.

Despite that this is just a dream, the sensations around her are stunningly realistic. The water is cold, icy against her skin, and she has that unique, weightless buoyancy about her that one experiences while swimming. As she kicks her legs, they ache with the effort she's making. Her lungs, deprived of oxygen, burn with their need for it, and she briefly entertains the thought that maybe she's suffocating back home in her bed.

The way she feels panic here is pretty damn realistic too. When she comes to the weary realization that she's not getting any closer to the top of the water, she kind of freaks out a little. Okay. That's a bit of a lie. She actually freaks out a lot. A lot a lot. Her panic is multiplied by a mere eleven billion when something grabs her from behind, holding tight around her waist where it starts pulling her, seemingly undeterred by her attempts to get free of its grasp. May imagines some prehistoric creature, something with sharp teeth and tentacles, something made of nightmares that might toy with her before swallowing her whole. Try as she might, she can't actually turn to see what it looks like, given that it's strong enough to keep her exactly where it seems to want her. She scratches at where it's got a hold on her anyway, digging her nails in hard enough to draw blood, but it doesn't even waver as it drags her up and up and up.

All too soon, it's yanked her head above the line of the water. Despite the fact that she's probably about to be eaten by some weird, terrifying monster, she's still grateful for the sweet, sweet gulps of fresh air that she manages to draw into her starved lungs. When her chest isn't aching with the need to breathe, she tries again to twist away from the thing that has her, clawing at it in the attempt even though it hadn't helped her when the whatever had snatched her in the first place.

"Stop struggling," a voice hisses in her ear, and May finds herself freezing, going rigid in nervous shock.

That voice. That voice. Her stomach lurches alarmingly. It's been forty-six days since she's heard it. Not that she's counting or anything.

Because that would be pathetic and embarrassing, so she's… uh, definitely not doing that. Totally. Yeah.

"Morpheus?" she rasps out, her voice hoarse while he continues pulling her to a lone pier nestled in the vast expanse of the water surrounding them. As he gets closer, the ocean or sea (she's not sure which) rumbles loudly, energy shaking the very molecules in May's body. It burns a bit, making her grit her teeth against the force of it as the power all around seems to swell, growing heavier and heavier, more suffocating.

"Hold your breath," her orders tersely, and she doesn't have a second to question him before his grip on her goes impossibly tight and they're being sucked down into the watery depths anew.

It's not for long, though. Thankfully. The power bursts at last, water sloshing side to side, parting to form stairs leading up to the edge of the winding wood structure plopped in the middle of the sea.

Morpheus carries her to the base of them, releasing her with a mere moment more of support as she shakily gets her feet under her. Toes squishing in the mud, she manages to stand straight, flicking a hesitant glance upwards. Nothing for it, she supposes. She wants to be away from this creation forsaken water, and this seems to be the only way out. Determined, she begins climbing the steps, not expecting them to be so seriously slippery. Halfway, she loses her footing, but she doesn't actually fall, however. To her stunned amazement, there's a hand on her elbow- Morpheus' hand- bracing her before she can tumble down. It's a rough gesture, one that she thinks he does more instinctively than anything else. He's radiating rage and wrath, but she knows that he used to be oddly gallant, prone to such gentlemanly behaviors when they were in love.

The way that he's glaring at her now, though, is anything but gallant or gentlemanly or loving. May looks him over, noting worriedly that he seems thinner than usual. Paler too, she thinks, but that could just be an effect of the blue and white light made by the many glittering stars swirling above them. She stretches her fingers to the inside of her opposite arm and pinches herself. Hard. It especially hurts given how cold she is, and May thinks in a fuzzy, disoriented way that she's not in a dream anymore, that she's actually in the Dreaming. Her stomach churns violently at the reality of that, enough so that she's worried she might throw up.

If she does that, she's for sure going to die of actual humiliation. Can somebody even die of humiliation? Is that a real thing? If it's not yet, and she pukes all over him, then it's definitely going to be. Because she's going to be the first to do it. A pioneer in the worst way.

"How are you here?" he demands, his hands clenched into fists at his side. His eyes are pitch black with fury, and May almost shrinks back from them.

"I… I was dreaming. I thought…" She glances down, unable to bear the expression of loathing on his face for even a second longer. What had she honestly thought? That he had undone her banishment? That he had removed the block between her and the realm? That he had changed his mind? Surely, she should have known better. Bad tempered and stubborn aren't two qualities that lend much to the possibility of forgiveness, and Morpheus is nothing if not bad tempered and stubborn. "I don't know."

Only, she realizes that's not exactly true. She might not know for certain, but she's maybe got an idea of how she'd gotten here given that she has a little being currently growing inside of her and all, one that's half Dream itself.

"You are banished. You should not have been able to enter any dream. You most assuredly should not have been able to travel through one into this realm."

She reminds herself to stay cool. He's probably just waiting to catch her in a lie. "I don't know why I'm here. What is it you want me to say?" It's not technically her deceiving him. She doesn't know for sure. She's really just guessing that it's the baby letting her walk through dreams and into the Dreaming.

"Is this magic of some sort? What could you possibly have been meddling in to-"

"No magic. I don't know. Okay?"

His eyes, those dark wells of the abyss that they are, blaze at her. "Whatever it is you've done to accomplish this, do not think to repeat it. Your banishment stands. You are no longer welcome in my realm."

His realm. It's his realm again. Only his. Mere months ago, he had wanted to marry her, had wanted the Dreaming to be theirs. He had told her that it would be her home for the rest of eternity. To hear him call it only his is like knife between her ribs. "Message received. I won't repeat whatever it is that I didn't even do in the first place. Is that what you need to hear? Does it make you happy for me to take the blame for something that isn't my fault?"

"Nothing concerning you," he growls, his voice low and harsh, "elicits happiness in me."

Ouch. Her heart feels like it's breaking all over again, her chest getting tighter and tighter until she worries that she might start crying. She hopes against hope that she doesn't look as fucking broken as she feels at his words. The many sorrowful emotions churning in her stomach, she decides, she'll blame on the hormones. Her eyes burn, and she's struck with the overwhelming urge to run away, though she realizes that she can't since she's essentially trapped on this stupid pier with nowhere else to go but back into the water. And she's not going to do that.

No matter how tempting it might be right now.

She's been without her magic for all of a week, and this is the most she's mourned the loss of it in those seven days. She's going to have to ask him for help, and the thought of having to do so stings her already bruised pride. There's nothing crappier when facing an ex than to have to plead for their assistance.

"If you want me gone, you're going to have to shift me away. I can't exactly leave the way I came in," she bites out, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, waiting for the inevitable argument to come.

He scoffs at her, his expression mocking. "Surely your magic is capable of such a minuscule feat?"

She could hate him for that if only she could assume he knew that he was rubbing salt in the wound of her magic being temporarily lost. "Do you honestly think I'd still be here if it was capable of such a minuscule feat?"

His eyes narrow while he studies her, a calculation in his gaze that's alarming, and May resists the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "There is something… different about you."

No shit, May wants to say. I'm heartbroken and pregnant and the father of my child hates my guts. "I'm fine. Now can you send me home, or are we going to stand here all night and glare at each other?"

His lips purse in what May used to call his Blue Steel face, though he never got the reference for that particular bit of teasing. His eyes, still those angry black pools of anger, rake over her. It makes her uncomfortable and horny at the same time, and that she will absolutely blame on her pregnancy hormones when she can take a minute or two to process this mortifying situation.

"Very well," he tells her, and May hates the way that she misses the sound of his voice, the way that she wants to take off her clothes and roll around naked in the thick, rich timbre of it.

His power is gentle where it settles on her skin, soft like a lover's caress, and that makes everything so much worse. When she reappears in her house, she half staggers to her living room to collapse on her couch and start sobbing, big hiccuping sobs like the kind children give when they want something they can't have. She's so miserable that it takes her over an hour to realize that she's still soaked through.

And she thinks then that her ending the day by crying wretchedly in a puddle of freezing water perfectly sums up her life right at this moment.

Next chapter here

#sandman fic #sandman fanfiction #sandman oc #dream of the endless #sandman morpheus #sandman x reader #the sandman fanfic #BBHAP

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lets-try-some-writing · 4 months

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⭐️ You got anything cool you wanna share? 👀

Of course!

Pretender AU Ramble:

The Pretender AU is currently my favorite Tumblr AU and let me tell you, I am slow writing for it because the plot THICKENS. The idea came into being when I saw an image of some creepy looking Megatron & Optimus artwork. Then as I sat down with my writing buddy to discuss the AU and go over some of the asks I have gotten for it to create a coherent plot, things got deeper than they originally were.

Literally no one is the good guy in the Pretender AU, despite how it may look. Megatron may seem like the hero, but he is still on his crazy train (which will be showcased later). Optimus may seem like a monster (which he is), but if you look at it, he is simply a being who was born of the wrong host. If ANYONE else had been his host, he would have been fine and the Pretenders could have integrated without issue most likely. Orion Pax would have learned of them, and possibly even gone so far as to create an alliance with these beings considering they operate a great deal like an ant colony and their abilities cannot be overlooked.

Why do I bring this up? Because Megatron is a hypocrite. He wishes to free all sentient beings. Well guess what? The Pretenders are very much sentient. He can't see that, or rather he refuses to due to the trauma of witnessing Orion Pax's slow death. He also does not see many others as sentient in light of his fear of the Pretenders. The Insecticons are on the chopping block just because they share traits with the Pretenders. Beastformers have never been looked on fondly, and in light of the Pretenders, they are also not taken to kindly. By seeing them this way, they have turned to the Pretenders (which will be shown in later writing I have planned).

By refusing to see the Pretenders are sentient beings, many other minor factions are also being thrown under the bus. This has unintentionally given the Pretenders the tools they need to endure. The Pretenders were made for a purpose, and they are really fragging good at doing their job. But Megatron refusing to let go of his personal vendetta was pretty much the only thing dragging out the war. And by doing so, he forced the Pretenders to become less emotive, more calculating, and hyperactive. It is a self destructive cycle and no one is the good guy here. Both factions make things worse for each other and they make the other group more and more fanatical just by existing. There is no victory here.

Well.

That is except for Smokescreen.

He plays the LONG game.

Extra:

Fun fact about the LTSW writing process:

Almost ALL of my fics and AU's are run past my dear friend @spreadwardiard. I come up with the concept and the base for the plot, and then they help me build the idea until we settle on an amazing story. Occasionally I work on something entirely alone, but at this point pretty everything except surprise gifts/small writing projects unworthy of serious note are given to them to think about prior to the actual written work being completed.

My work would not be nearly as interesting without their input. Having a friend to polish up an idea with really is a lifesaver.

You can tell which AU's I didn't run past them because I either don't touch them anymore, the plot/timeline is rather disjointed, or its a goofy thought rather than anything super serious. That's how much I lean on the commentary of others to really get the ball rolling for my work.

#lets try some writing mumbles #author's notes #pretender au #transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #megatron #alternate universe

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a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan · 1 year

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For autism awareness month, I’ll be talking about my autism. I have a complicated relationship with it. I’ll readily admit that it’s my autism that makes me a bit too much of a Zelda fan, a bit too much of a Pokémon fan, etc.. Whenever I get into a new thing, I go in neck deep and it consumes my thoughts. On the one hand, I get to micro analyze the thing and appreciate it for all its worth. On the other, I sometimes wish I could just like multiple things at once and give me other things to talk about when I’m with my friends, instead of turning to the internet and ranting into the void. I created this blog almost six years ago because at the time I only had one friend who also liked Zelda, and I knew it would be cruel to unload all my autistic Zelda ramblings on him. Same reason I made the Pokémon side blog.

Effective communication does not come easily for me. I’m sometimes unaware of the tone I’m speaking in, and I have very poor control over my facial expressions. Basically I can’t hide my emotions for shit, which can be bad in some scenarios. I miss some nonverbal cues. On the flip side, this has made me work incredibly hard to become an effective communicator. I know that if things are left unsaid, they may go uncommunicated. I know to say what I mean and clarify everything that needs to be. I hate that I over analyze everything I say and hear said to me, but oh well.

As a white, cishet man, I need to be aware of the power dynamics in my relationships. I need to be cognizant of the ways my words and actions can be perceived differently by women, minorities, and other people with whom there is some imbalance of power. I think this is how all people in my position should approach things, but for me and my autism, this is especially difficult. So I verbally acknowledge it with the person so they know I’m trying.

For example, a good friend of mine used to only know me as the author of Oops! All Links. He looked up to me as a writer and put me on a pedestal, which I understand and is completely natural as a parasocial relationship. He is also seven whole years younger than me. At the time, I was 21 and he was 14. When we started to DM and actually become friends, I told him explicitly that I recognized the power imbalance in our friendship, and he should feel absolutely no obligation to do anything that I say or ask of him, and to also tell me immediately if something I say or do makes him uncomfortable. I never had and still never do have any ill intent in this friendship, but the last thing I want is to unintentionally take advantage of him.

Sometimes, I wish things could be different. Compounded with my bipolar disorder and ADHD, my autism makes my life harder. My brain is crosswired and I need to work harder to achieve the things that I want than do neurotypical people. Getting through college has been an ordeal and it’s honestly a miracle that I’m almost finished with it. If I could do away with just the ways my autism my life worse, I would in a heartbeat.

My autism also makes me who I am, though. It defines my personality and the way I interact with the world. I wouldn’t be such an effective verbal communicator, I wouldn’t have the same passions, and I wouldn’t have the same relationships. It’s part of what makes me,,, me. And ya know what? I like me.

I still hate some things about myself. I hate the ways that my disabilities and disorders make my life harder. I sometimes wish I could just whisk it all away so I don’t have to struggle like I do. But there are some good things that come along with it. If I got to choose whether to get rid of the autism and everything it entails… I don’t know. I just don’t know if I would. But I don’t have that choice. For better or for worse, reality has already made the decision for me.

#autism #offtheme #my life

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jane-crow · 4 months

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VORTEX TIME BABY

yes i am putting tws for this post because IT IS required in context of everything im about to dump onto you crows

(putting the tws here to just to be safe. TW: g0re,mention cann1bal1sm(trying to get someone to do that),kn1v3s sui implied and l0ss of a b0dy part)

with that out of the way lets get into the oc rant :D

so- just fair warning- i did change some things around in the cannon lore but its not a full COMPLETE change- but you'll see what i mean later on SO- oh and also caines a tiny bit of a dick- BUT unintentionally because i think he just doesnt realize what hes doing is wrong (at least in this aus context but maybe also within the cannon au)

in my au- vortex has been there the longest INSTEAD of kinger- but kinger has been there the second longest. vortex has been in the circus for 20 years (since they were 7 btw and yes this was intention of me) and caine wasnt perpared for humans he tended to leave vortex alone a lot

AND THUS before the group we all know and loved showed up a unlucky group of seven people showed up- think of the group as pomni but worse. the group wouldnt really listen to vortex when it came to the circus so they all tended to avoid vortex/stay in there rooms- which led to all seven abstracting- one by one and vortex having to watch it happen. so of course- caine wasnt around so vortex was stuck waiting for caine to appear while trying to survive abstractions- WHICH THEY DID HURRAY- but they didnt go without getting injuries (im not going into detail on said injuries- at least not by much-) which ties in with his design- SO

"vortex was almost all black..with their teeth being white,the tips of there hair having color- red,blue,green and purple,their eyes having color- one being blue the other being orange. and their tail- which the tip had some red on it followed by other colors. their body was covered in scars. their face,tail,back,arms and legs had scars."

"vortex DID have clothes..but- they were always hard to makes out. the clothes they were (forcably) given were a black tanktop,a flannel which had very few hints of color. the color being a few hints of red here and there. same with the shorts expect they had hints of green instead. they had boots were more of a black-ish grey-ish color"

moving on-

so- you may or may not have already assumed vortex isnt the biggest fan of caine BUT DONT WORRY I HAVE ONE MORE POINT TO PROVE AS TO WHY THEY DONT- so vortex was kind of a "test subject" for caine right? (not a literal one because- its a digital place-)soo- caine put the virus in vortex to see how much humans can take in the circus (mentally of course) which resulted in vortex having glitching episodes! and eventually- the glitch became sentiant just because of how attached it was to vortexs code at this point- and you'll never believe it buuutt- it wants vortex to eat the members of the circus- huuurraaay- moving on- because were sort of coming back to that.

how i imagine the circus is- its like a show but it has its own spin off game- and as for the show i imagine that like within the cannon universe people can like literally watch what these characters are doing so i like to imagine they all have acts- and the rooms they have are decorated by said act they do. unforunatly- vortex being the test subject he is- doesnt have an act so..what does his room look like?? well-

"vortexs room was pretty empty compared to the others rooms. they had a bed,a desk and a closet. that was about it for things that were in there. they had some random plushies that they had found around the circus while they were alone. they also had a projector with a remote to change colors. he tends to keep it blue and red along with the green dots which represent stars. the project itself was meant to represent the northern lights. there room was also dimly lit just because he tended to find the circus overwhelming. the colors were always to much for her whenever she decided to explore the circus."

one silly fact before i go back to the glitch- since vortex doesnt have an act he likes to watch all of the other members preform and hehehehe. soo- you know pomnis eyes in that one scene where she sees her door? think of that but for vortexs eyes- but not as wide yk? and i like to imagine that their tail is gently wagging and me and my freind made a joke that the camera thats recording the circus members acts just pans to vortex and vortex is just like "..oh heey-" and awkwardly leaves somewhere else lmao

OK BEFORE WE OFFICAL GO BACK TO THE GLITCH- the glitch does have a design

"the glitch is basically an all green looking entity. it has a few other colors here and there but it was mostly green otherwise."

anyway- so. since the glitch is- VERY relentless when it comes to vortex it just keeps telling them to- y'know eat people. but eventually one day vortex had enough of the glitch and- cut their arm off. BUTTT DONT FREAT- they get a prosthetic made by our favorite silly jester (midheard this again on a call with a friend when they actually said their oc lmao)

oh one last thing. you wanna get rid of that glitch? well good luck- you cant do it without whipping vortexs memories- so basically a hard reset.

OH AND- vortex (since they were alone for so long) has this like tent where they put a bunch of stuff they collected while being in the circus- and yes there is a lot of shit in that tent- trust me

WELL THATS ALL OF THE IMPORTANT STUFF- FACT LIST TIIIMMEEE (some of the facts i already typed out but shhh. also this is where the kn1f3 tw comes into play- its the VERY last fact. also the su1 implicantion. I ONLY CALL IT IMPLICATION SINCE YOU CANT DIE OFFICALLY IN THE CIRCUS FROM WHAT I UNDERSTAND. if you want to change it to attempt instead dont hesitate to ask ^^)

-vortex can bypass the swear filter only because he was the test subject for the digital circus so caine didnt put that into her code

-vortex has a fear of abstractions because a group of seven people came and all seven abstracted. he also had to see queenie abstract

-when people first see vortex when they hear about abstractions they think shes abstracting

-they have scars from abstraction attacks

-hes scared to get close to anybody in the circus (unless he already got close to them)

-they dont really trust caine

-hes explored the circus so many times out of boredom

-the fake exit triggered her abstraction trauma

-her tail wags when she gets any sort of affection (headpats,hugging,hand holding ect)

-autism

-showed up alone BUT a group of seven others came and abstracted

-11’5

-vortexs nickname is air because bobbin (a friends oc) and bubble make bnb so- with vortex having the nickname air its airbnb

-voidy. just- voidy.

-uhhh vortex once had a bad glitching episode- SO BAD that they stabbed himself- and they are very ashamed of it because his mind wasnt clear- and she wasnt in to much control anyway

#tw gore #tw cannibalism #tws #the amazing digital circus #ocs #tadc oc #tadc #tw knife #tw sui implied #tw mild body horror #oc rant

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guideoftime · 1 year

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@sapientiiae For once the princess hadn’t shown up unannounced and uninvited. Of course she had the key that Sheik had given her quite some time ago, but they’d actually had plans today and decided that it would be easier for Zelda to meet him in Kakariko rather than have Sheik go all the way to the castle only for them to have to backtrack. Everything should have been fine. It should have gone like any other day. The problem, however, was that Zelda had been particularly restless last night. After laying in bed for over an hour tossing and turning, she’d given up on the idea of sleep and instead returned to her study, hoping some time amongst her books would do her some good — throwing yourself amongst endless lines of text could bring anyone to the edge of slumber if given enough time. But that was not the case for Zelda. In fact, the royal had unintentionally made that impossible for herself. She now sat at the table in Sheik’s kitchen, earning several narrowed looks from the Sheikah as he seemed to mull over a question or two in his head, which was valid given her behavior that morning. She was almost certain she looked sleep-deprived, but what was worse was the way she nearly avoided all eye-contact, kept unusually to herself, and seemed to be fumbling over her words all morning — as if her mind were somewhere else. It is only once she feels she can no longer endure his piercing stare that she finally musters the courage to speak, her voice soft as she keeps her gaze pointed to the table before her. “I…think I did it, Sheik. I think I finally translated what you told me that day.” And if she was wrong? Gave him an incorrect translation he found absurd? Then she may be too mortified to ever face him again.

He doesn’t–trust this, whatever this is. Whatever time this is. She’s not entirely awake yet, his hair’s unbraided and an absolute unruly mess behind his head. He hadn’t slept well, though that’s not new, and he was completely exhausted. Breakfast was on the stove, half cooking while he tried his best to stay awake.

And the Princess is here, far too early here. He needs a good nap to understand what this is and what's going on. He shakes his head at the other and turns back to the stove, flipping the eggs over in the pan and cooking the other side. He gives a small sigh and listens as the Princess finally speaks, giving part of what was in her mind. The words are enough to make him pause, watching the eggs cooking in the pan.

“Am I feeding you?”

He asks instead, grabbing a plate from the dishrack and setting it down off to the side. He had toast cooking over the fire, he could give her a simple breakfast of eggs and toast with some milk. It wasn’t exactly what the Castle fed her but it was something to sate the hunger in her stomach. Since he’s assuming she didn’t eat anything before coming over here. Given the way she let herself into the house while Sheik was still asleep.

He wasn’t exactly ignoring what she said, just also setting it far off to the side. He’ll be honest in saying he hadn’t expected her to translate what he said. Learning a new language is hard enough, translating a language you don’t know with nothing to help? Even harder.

#sapientiiae #▴ — path / guide of time #▴ — the eye of truth / asks.#Sheik VC: ah.... shit.

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boypussydilf · 1 year

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ok ur choice between homumiko or asoryuu (...or both??????) for the bingos GO

ABSOLUTELY BOTH!!!!!! LETS GOOOOOOO asoryuu first

OH RIGHT EVEN WHEN UR NOT MAKING AN IMAGE POST TUMBLR PUTS THE IMAGES, LIKE, NEXT TO EACH OTHER SOMETIMES. thats gonna make this post a LOT more tolerable !!!!

I don’t actuslly think “divorced” describes anything they have going on accurately at ALL, there’s just a lot of asoryuu divorce jokes and i think divorce is funny so I nod along, but they’re not divorced. I never talk about them ever but no one misunderstand: they are fucking everything. They’re incredible. Bromance of all time but without the romance (but with the romance). They cant be divorced bc they weren’t together and like not in a “characters who have never been married but are still somehow divorced” way theyre just more like. They got to the Awkward In Between Spot where neither of u is sure if this is like, romantic or not, or what you’re gonna do about it, or anything, and then they’ve just been stuck there for a year and are going to continue to be stuck there for a long time I feel bad for them. They’re really gay though “I dont trust myself so here take this, the sword that is a metaphor for my soul” Stop being gay in public…

FUCK I MEANT TO CIRCLE GAY AF TO HAVE A SWORN RIVAL !!!!!!!!!!! They’re not Sworn Rivals by any means? They’re not even really Rivals on a temporary basis? But also they kind of are. You get it. Right? You get it. It’s their vibes. Nothing about this is a rivalry, it’s just a defense attorney/prosecutor ship and also they’re two guys who go in really hard on the competition with each other which isn’t really anything special in itself lots of people are competitive for fun w close friends but. Idk. They’re doing something and they’re so funny. Asougi saw ryuu and went “what a LOSER” and then the guy Was Better At Talking Then Him and asougi went “i adore this man. I would give up my lifelong dream for his sake.” Kazuma asougi is like that stereotypical late teens girl whos like i DONT CARE that i just met him a week ago were getting MARRIED . asougi went This guy is not cool at ALL and also ive known him for One Year and also ill do almost anything for him. No talking stage mutual obsession and we see god in each others eyes or nothing.

I like asoryuu they are funny. Asougi may bully ryuu on purpose, but ryuu will always get the upper hand completely unintentionally via something dumb. Ok homo miku time

i debated on the “terrible in every way” thing but they do deserve to be called that what with all the. lying to people. guys do you. know ways to navigate difficult situations that arent just *hides information and then is evasive about it* *lies outright about something very major* Guys…………

homo of miko. Mikotoba tried to fix him Once and then went whatevers wrong with him is way funnier & sherlock actively made him worse. But its ok bc their worst crime is being annoying in public. also several dozen counts of breaking and entering.

related topic obsessed w the fact that , like. the only reasonable conclusion to draw abt The Finding-Jigoku Scene. THE Homumiko Scene. is that this is an accurate representation of What They & Their Investigations Were Like, Like, All The Time. mikotoba pulls the ONLY PULL IN VERY DRASTIC EMERGENCIES OR WE FUCKIGN EXPLODE YOU alarm & sherlockjust picks a lock so they can break in & then they fucking dance and insult each other i guess. Gregsons ghost is there screaming something about “lower me into my coffin so you can let me down one last time”. They are 1. silly 2. absolutely taking this seriously but fundamentally do not act like it 3. Breaking the law. Great Job!!!!!!!! I want to see 50 more hours of this. I want to see other characters’ impressions of Them As A Duo so bad. Like ok. again: mikotoba is so funny when u think abt it . absolute professional. regular seeming guy. even comes across as serious or stoic to some people. And then. *gestures to the above*. I just had the words gap moe pop into my head i am going to fucking throw up. Anyway. I just think it’s funnh to imagine some shit like. dr sithe- Oooh there are too many ways this sentence can end. *grabby hands* capcom give us the courtney sithe lore. Okay okay order of events. sithe is working at the same hospital where mikotoba is working & where sherlock moreso just kind of shows up to dick around with chemistry experiments. she knows mikotoba as a good respectable doctor who takes his work very seriously. she knows sherlock as an insane idiot who keeps burning himself. apparently they are living together. well rents high and mikotoba just moved here & hasnt been exposed to the insane idiot so much thats understandable. She sees them on a case. Mikotoba breaks into someones house through the window. And also they dance. She has to continue working with this man.

I don’t know if the timeline adds up in a way where sithe wouldve even been working @ that hospital when mikotoba First got there but you get the IDEA ANYWAY. on a note thats only related in my brain eberyone should read arthur conan doyles a study in scarlet but just the like, first 2 chapters, just to be amused by sherlock holmes. i got sidetracked there maybe lets go back to talking about homumiko.

Sorry to bring this up for th first time w them when it also very much applies to asoryuu but as we all know dgs2 was so fucked up for ending w “and then everyone is separated <3” Insanity. OKAY. okay. OKAY. OKAY. *once again wheels out the giant conspiracy board in my brain where all the homumiko information is stored* they both. like. mikotoba says he never expected to be able to go to britain again & sherlock is like Wow i never thought id be solving mysteries like this with you again!! Ever!!! In my life!!!! and i wont go on the other connected rant abt shit like mikotoba saying “our home” and themjust picking up like nothing has changed bc i think i already did that and also thats not the point i just . like . WHATS GOING ON WITH THEM !!!!!!!!! “WOW! AFTER 10 YEARS I GOT TO SEE YOU FOR LIKE. A WEEK. OK BYE FOREVER <3” HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!! *SHAKES THEM*ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS? ARE YOU HAPPY WITH THIS? “MY CLOSEST FRIEND MY PARTNER MY OTHER HALF. I LOVE GETTING A LETTER A MONTH FOREVER” SCREAM !!!!!!!!!!! this is a fucked up decision. I’m normal.

*blinks like someone who just got woken up at 7pm* i dont know how fucking lomg ive been. writing this post. It seems to have gotten out of hand. i like homumiko. makes them sillyguys makes them halves of a whole makes them . uhhh. gay. *clinks glass* Heres to them impulse adopting many more children !!!!! HAS YUUJIN MIKOTOBA EVER MET GINA

#gina isnt sherlocks kid #but she IS iris’s sister #so thats. theres a connection #hi for the love of god hello.#basilask #dgs from my brain

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rosietrace · 2 years

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So~ NRC OCs thoughts on Lilith? Despite the fact that they couldn't see and hear her- but they still feel someone is with Mireille- (I've already gave you the spoiled info on her XD)

Eye eyeeeee, I shall deliver-

{ ☾︎𓅰____ 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 _____ 𓅰☽︎ }

{ Yuuta }

Probably the first to figure it out

And by some miracle he knew it wasn't just some random ghost

To him, the presence felt calming, protective over Mireille

Which honestly amused him pretty dang well

Of course he wouldn't bother to hurt Mireille in any way

He may be a manipulative bitch, but he isn't the type to randomly target people unless they did something to provoke him

And considering the type of person Mireille is, she'd definitely not provoke Yuuta in any way

And honestly he's kinda protective of her after unintentionally finding out about the shit she went through

He's literally living in a building covered from head to toe in ghosts, he's not surprised there's some sort of spirit who's going to protect Mireille

But is there a way to profit off of spirits

{ Ymir }

He doesn't talk with Mireille unless she assists him with running errands, or she has some sort of injury he has to heal

But he'd probably know about Lilith's presence during their first meeting

It's odd for him, but he wouldn't want to make Mireille uncomfortable by asking

So he doesn't talk about it

At all.

{ Freyah }

Much like everybody in this list, Freyah can't see nor hear Lilith

But, she can certainly feel her presence

Whenever she talks with Mireille or walks around campus with her, she always has the feeling that someone's watching Mireille

And they aren't someone she knows

So naturally, she went to Mireille and asked if she also felt the same presence

When she said yes, it kinda clicked to Freyah that a ghost of some other presence watching Mireille, willing to risk their life for her

And she found that kinda cool tbh

Freyah wouldn't mention it to Mireille of course, she wouldn't want to make it feel like she's meddling with anything involving her personal life

So, she'll just wait for the perfect moment until Mireille is ready to speak with her about Lilith

{ Frisk }

Poor thing-

When she first felt Lilith's presence, she almost had a heart attack

She doesn't like the idea of being watched, which is why she typically averts eyes when in public

When she gets to her tipping point and she's batshit afraid of that presence, she musters up the courage to speak with Mireille about it

But of course, Mireille doesn't tell her the full details

Which, Frisk accepts

To her, as long as she gets some sort of answer, she's okay

Once she got used to Lilith's presence, Frisk might've accidentally realized who's causing it

But just like her sister, she's willing to wait until Mireille is completely ready and confident enough to tell her

{ Grey }

Felt that presence and was willing to choose violence

Because she and Mireille don't talk a lot, Grey wouldn't automatically assume that she's the cause of Lilith's presence

But once she reaches her limit of patience, she'll end up talking with Mireille about the presence and how much it makes her uncomfortable

To which Mireille apologizes and gives her a rather half assed explanation

She doesn't give all the details, which annoys Grey

But, she was willing to tell her about it, which satisfies her

As long as Mireille was willing to talk with her about it, Grey's willing to tolerate the uncomfortable presence

{ Nyx }

She often hangs out with Mireille, so she'd definitely feel the presence before everyone else

Especially with her enhanced abilities

And honestly she's felt worse, so she just pretends the presence doesn't exist to calm any preexisting nerves in her system

However she will tell Mireille about how she's feeling eventually

If she managed to gain Mireille's trust enough, it's likely that she'll know about Lilith

Mireille would likely just say that it's not a ghost, but a being who's willing to risk their life for her

Though she's even more curious than before, Nyx didn't wanna push Mireille's limits

So naturally, she chose not to speak of it

{ Lumina }

Probably the most uncomfortable out of everyone here tbh

Doesn't like the feeling of being watched, so the presence of Lilith could definitely set her off depending on her mood when it happens

I fear for the poor students who witnessed it

The way she talked about it to Mireille sounded way too confrontational

Of course she apologized, but she also explained to Mireille on why she acted like that

After properly understanding how Lumina felt, Mireille mustered up the courage to tell her

She didn't tell her about Lilith completely, however she implied it pretty well

Though she felt annoyed that Mireille didn't give her the full details, Lumina understood that privacy is privacy

{ Victoria }

Automatically, the presence surrounding her and Mireille most definitely piqued her interest

And unlike the others, she was one of the few who immediately confronted Mireille about it

Her words were gentle, easily able to ease Mireille just enough and get her comfortable enough to give her the details of why there's some sort of presence around them

Manipulative? It's more based on how you interpret how she questioned Mireille

Probably the one of the only people in Mireille's life who knows about Lilith's actual existence

Mireille would've ended up a bit too comfortable with telling Victoria the full details(thanks to Victoria's manipulation tactics), and might've accidentally let it slip

Of course, Victoria was satisfied, and kindly apologized for using such manipulative tactics of Mireille before she left

Leaving Mireille alone, questioning if she did the right thing on telling Victoria

{ Azrail }

Given how advanced the technology is inside Ignihyde, it wouldn't be all that surprising if Azrail did a background check on Mireille

But, you can't exactly travel to a different world. No matter how advanced your technology is

So obviously, Azrail found no clear information on who Mireille is

Which frustrated him and he may or may not have taken his frustrations onto a table

Given how he didn't have any information on Mireille on the internet, he had to speak to her in person

And when he did? He naturally felt a presence surrounding Mireille

Of course Mireille felt the same with Azrail, but the presence beside him was of completely different circumstances

Much like Victoria, Azrail started questioning Mireille about it

Poor Mireille tbh, cause Azrail basically interrogated her

Unlike Victoria who used manipulative tactics on Mireille for it to slip out, Azrail basically interrogated her like she was some criminal and he was her lawyer who desperately needed her alibi 😀

I mean he did apologize for it right after, but given how monotone his voice usually is, it didn't sound genuine-

He was being genuine about it tho

But finally, due to the pressure Azrail had on her, Mireille cracked and flat out admitted Lilith's existence

After he found out, Azrail pats Mireille on the head before he walked away

Meanwhile Mireille kinda regrets flat out admitting Lilith EXISTS-

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst ask #twst request #night raven college oc #nrc oc #nrc staff oc #yuuta sumeragi #sumeragi yuuta #twst yuuta #victoria shard #twst victoria #grey nephrite #lumina glow #azrail despoina #nyx leech #frisk de la rose #freyah de la rose

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petsdogworld · 1 year

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There are so many dogs wearing harnesses that it makes no sense. Harnesses are advantageous for just two reasons. There were pulling drills, such as those performed on a skateboard or in weightlifting competitions. That is it. It is not suitable for walking. We will discuss about Are harnesses bad for dogs and reasons why you should move to a leash. Whether large or small, a dog harness offers a slight advantage to the Dog. It just supports 'PULLING.' The majority of Humans purchase them in the belief that they can make their Dog feel more ‘secure' which is completely False. Harnesses are gaining popularity as dog owners learn about the benefits they can have. They're excellent teaching tools for puppies learning to act appropriately on a leash and give walkers a little more leverage. Harnesses minimize pulling and allow you to prevent your Dog from jumping up on strangers without fear of choking. Is harness worth buying ? Maybe OR Maybe not..! Dogs wearing harnesses are less likely to get tangled in the leash unintentionally. Additionally, harnesses have an advantage over collars in that they reduce the risk of neck injury, which is particularly important for delicate dog breeds. Moreover, they result in less restriction for Pugs and French Bulldogs susceptible to respiratory problems or tracheal collapse. If your Dog has some breathing difficulties, a harness is almost always the safest option. Collars may also cause some breeds' eyeballs to protrude from their sockets when excessive pressure is applied to the collar. Harnesses may be front- or back-attached. Front-attaching harnesses are more successful for bigger dogs because they lead from the front. In contrast, a back-attaching harness limits the walker's control and can result in worse pulling actions because the Dog lacks the appropriate direction for training. Small breeds should wear back-attaching harnesses because they are more vulnerable to pressure, and front-attaching saddles may be uncomfortable for them. Depending on your Dog's size, training, and temperament, one style might be a better fit. For instance, switching to a harness can alter your Dog's walking style, causing a change period — this is true for front-clip harnesses. Choosing the right one Although harnesses are ideal for dogs of all sizes and breeds, but we observed that harness could give larger dogs more power (or powerful ones). When purchasing a harness, it is essential to choose one proportionate to your Dog's size. It is not mandatory to have a thick, heavy-duty harness for a chihuahua. Although, a harness is not always the best option for everyone. The choice between a harness and collar-leash is a matter of personal preference and what fits best for your lifestyle. Finally, consulting your veterinarian or trainer for assistance in choosing the correct harness for your Dog (and for you) is the safest option. It is said "An incorrectly fitted harness would only cause discomfort, abrasions to the skin, and a negative connection with the harness and walking in general". To ensure that the harness fits correctly if your Dog is still developing or if their weight fluctuates. Two of your fingers should fit between your Dog and the harness. It is advisable that a dog owners should seek out a machine-washable harness for improved canine grooming. 10 reasons to quickly resort to a leash Take off the belt. It messes it up, and the Dog goes crazy barking and pulling at other dogs to smell them. On a leash, dogs are more susceptible to distractions. On a collar, this is less true. 1- A dog harness Is not a collar replacement : Humans are concerned about the Dog escaping, which is why they take a stroll on a leash. There are two issues here, Humans. 1) If your Dog escapes the lead, I should be sufficiently conditioned to remain. If I do not listen, then I am untrained. 2) Why are you so nervous about your Dog bolting?! That is not showing trust in your animal. That is succumbing to human nature.

2- Harnesses incentivize pulling : The harness is built in such a way that it facilitates removing. Dogs feel uneasy leading and pulling on walks, which is one of the primary reasons they are anxious, excitable, and barking. 3- The timing will still be off : A dog can walk alongside a person and interact simply by making a wrist motion on the leash. With a harness attached to the shoulders, the Dog's signal to 'do something is linked to the shoulder and delayed to the Dog. Sometimes, the Dog interprets this as a signal to PULL and may fight the agitation to PULL. They aim directly at the gesture at the throat with a collar, and I am instantly aware of what to do next. 4- Communication is hazy : When a signal is sent to the Dog's shoulders through a leash, the Dog can detect and resist the tension. This is not an acceptable mode of communication. However with a collar, a Firm VOICE order accompanied by a wrist gesture communicates even more clearly. I will be aware of your desires. 5- A harness does not provide additional protection : Harnesses are not as ‘secure' as many say. The process of attaching a collar to your Dog is straightforward. There is a two-finger law for "Big Dogs." Two fingers should be able to fit comfortably under the Dog's collar. One finger can suffice for a smaller dog. In both situations, the collar does not extend over the Dog's ears. 6- Reduced power of the puppy : Indeed, a harness makes it more challenging to manage the Dog than a leash does. Since a collar is attached to your Dog's head, it makes it easier to monitor and avoid any potential threat. Controlling your Dog's head is impossible when wearing a Harness. 7- Control your Dog with your wrist : Wrist control enables you to control (lead) your Dog without using a collar. Wrist control can sit, down, heel, slow down, stop, left, and right. With a simple voice command, your Dog will gradually learn to respond without the use of a voice command. 8- It prevents you from serving as a pack leader : Keep an eye out for a dog or dogs with harnesses. Typically, they are all intertwined and barking nonstop in front of the Human. As a Dog owner, I have never witnessed this situation shift, especially with small dogs. Being a pack leader entails taking charge of the animals and never lagging. It's not a good look to see people tied up with three Yorkies barking their heads off. 9- Encourages detours : Harnesses promote distractions because they are attached to the Dog's shoulder rather than the ears like a collar is. As discussed previously, the absence of proper timing implies inherent 'free' time during which a dog can Respond to the next stimulus! Add to that a keen sense of smell, and it's easy to see why they get distracted when wearing a belt. With a leash and a rapid speed, the Dog will concentrate and enter 'job mode.' Consider it! 10- Harnesses can conflict with the hierarchy of the Pack : With several dogs, the Pack hierarchy becomes even more critical. When they walk alongside Dogs, they adopt the part of the Pack. When a harness is worn and distractions are present, this uncertainty may result in undesirable behaviors. Usually, one Dog can 'attack' another dog in the Pack, causing everyone to go insane from energy release. This is not an 'abuse,' but a CORRECTION. The Dog is communicating to another member of its Pack – HEY – KNOCK IT OFF! Usually, no harm occurs, and the Human freaks out for no apparent reason. Without question, the Dog is telling you that it wants to run the Pack because you are not leading. As an example a father corrects his two sons if they do wrong but they should not make corrections to one another. Hope you like our article about " Are harnesses bad for dogs ". We tried to give an overall picture of what is a Harness and how it is helpful and also what can be used instead of a Harness and its advantages. https://petsdogworld.com/are-harnesses-bad-for-dogs/?feed_id=275&_unique_id=645d359eea51f

#areharnessesbad

#Collar #areharnessesbad

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kulturekonnect1 · 1 year

Text

IS YOUR ECOMMERCE ADA COMPLIANCE READY?

Even though the COVID19 pandemic hit many businesses hard, there was a record-setting growth in 2020 and 2021. Unfortunately, inflation and economic insecurity have contributed to a dip in online shopping. But, what does that mean for businesses like yours? Well, since people are more reserved to spend their money, it's more important now than ever to provide your e-commerce users with a frictionless buying experience.

In and effort to give a better experience, online businesses use data to personalize messaging and run holiday promotions to entice shoppers to look at them. But they neglect to include a website accessibility plan in their marketing efforts, which prevents millions of shoppers from being able to fully participate in the holiday season or to have a good shopping experience anytime throughout the year.

Shopping online can be a tough journey for people with disabilities

It is normal to encounter that almost every site on the cyberspace has accessibility issues. However, e-commerce sites are worse than most and ignore key features such as being able to view products, make purchases or book an appointment. A few more reasons online shopping is hard for disabled people are:

Nowadays, everything is done and shared through social media or email, which are marketing channels that are known for not being accessible or completely accessible

During the holidays and throughout the year businesses make updates to their websites, which are normally performed by an untrained staff member. Businesses tend to overlook this intentionally or unintentionally for various reasons, including wanting to keep it in-house or not wanting to incur in an additional expense for foundational health management. Unfortunately, this introduces new accessibility issues if the updates are not done correctly

The holiday rush brings chaos to the normal operations of any business, which is ten times true for an online store. This often overwhelms customer service and operations teams, which can make it harder for people with disabilities to get assistance

Start making your ecommerce ADA compliance ready

Website ADA compliance continues to be a pressing issue for every business, especially if you have an online store. So, your best next step is to take at least the basic steps to put your website and ecommerce site on the path of accessibility.

Alt Text – Having the perfect image to showcase your product is very important, but what about making sure that everyone knows what your images are about — even if they can’t see them? With Alt text you can write a description of an image that screen readers can read out loud — or convert to Braille — for people with visual impairments, sensory processing disorders, or learning disorders. Unfortunately, many businesses forget to provide alt text or simply don't care and it is very common to find alt text that simply says "image01.jpg," which does not help at all anyone with a visual impairment

Audio and Video – Audio and video are a must-have in today's marketing environment. But it’s important to do it in a way that doesn’t exclude anyone. This means adding captions and descriptions, synchronizing captions, checking captions placement, providing simple access to controls and not using autoplay

Colors and size- Color can be a decisive factor for people with disabilities to stay or move on from your site. Color contrast is usually measured as a ratio, where a higher number means a greater degree of contrast between the two colors. For example, white and black have a contrast ratio of 21 to 1 while red and green have a contrast ratio of 2.9 to 1. So, make sure you use the correct color contrast for your site. In addition, font size and weight also affects readability and legibility, so if your font is large or bold, you may be able to get away with a lower contrast ratio, but always be careful! Remember that WCAG recommends a contrast ratio of at least 4.5 to 1 between a foreground element (like text) and its background.

Emails – Marketing your website is intimately tied to your email marketing. Unfortunately, because each email client is built differently, making sure that your email renders correctly on every single platform can be a nightmare. This is why many businesses choose to do a flat image for their emails instead of coding it. But this is not good for a disabled person! Imagine how much information you're packing in that flat image and how much information is that disabled person missing: product names, sale prices, special offers... No screen reader could keep up with it. Fortunately, there are a few things you can do to optimize your email: use tables, underline links, make links descriptive

Conclusion

Planning for the holidays can be overwhelming, but dealing with a website that is not accessible no only has an impact on your potential customers, but also on the performance, searchability and compatibility of your online store. By taking action on the most basic things, you are setting up a model that pays off big in the long run. From there, you can expand for an ongoing 360º action plan to take care of your website's foundational health.

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away.

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

1K notes · View notes

misselko · 3 years

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Got this idea from Dimitri’s conversation with Byleth before Fort Merceus battle with the Death Knight. Put some angst, fluff, and a pinch of smut spices into the dish and let it simmer down! At least, that’s what I want! But it turned out... different ;) Sorry not sorry

This one took me some days to write. I hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to give me some advice and ideas for my next fic! Your warm comments will be cherished very much 💕 Thankies!!

RECKLESS

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mention of blood, violence, smut

Words: 3316

POST TIMESKIP

Empire will be the only remaining enemy and to move on to the Imperial Capital, Enbarr, capturing Fort Merceus is a must. Praised as the strongest defense with its fortified military installation in the Empire, seizing it won’t be an easy feat.

Liberating Arianrhod, calming down Holy Kingdom of Faerghus political issues, winning over the Leicester Alliance and gained their support. Getting a lead on Lady Rhea’s location. Although things were a rough go, but thinking back on it now, Blue Lions sure has really come a long way. Things have been wonderful in these past moons that it almost feels like dream too good to be true.

You don’t know why but you can’t shake your uneasy feelings and dread. War is raging and everyone knows there is a big battle on the horizon.

“We must not falter in our assault. The Death Knight is the enemy commander in Fort Merceus. He’s an unpredictable opponent. A dangerous one. Please proceed with caution, (Y/N).”

“I will, Dimitri. No need to worry.”

“I have not come this far just to lose you here. I’m serious. Do not be reckless out there.”

“Will you save me if I’m in trouble?”

“Of course, (Y/N). You were the heart of the Blue Lions, and the same holds true for the Kingdom Army.”

You smiled at his concern and hold his hands gently.

“I will do my best as well to support you, my Dimitri.” His cheeks turned into rosy blush at your words.

“Whoaa!! You’re getting pretty chummy, aren’t you, Your Highness? Go get a room!” Sylvain winks and got punched HARD, dragged away by Ingrid. You make mental notes on giving her a delicious roasted meat from that famous new shop in the town later as your gratitude. Serves him right!! ...But you wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. Everything will be alright with them. Blue Lions are your precious family. It will be fine. Everything will be fine.

---

Capturing Fort Merceus is a daunting task. Endless enemies are approaching and relentless. Felix and Sylvain are working together cut through the snipers and mages. Ingrid and Ashe are doing their best to handle the pegasi knights. Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, and Flayn makes great combo on cutting through enemy reinforcements while providing healing to everyone. Slowly but sure, you and Dimitri managed to push Death Knight on the corner. But it doesn’t make things less difficult for both of you.

“You dare stand between me and my pleasure?”

The beginning of it was barely a bellow that grew steadily to a deafening roar, piercing the air and shaking the ground. Areadbhar crack in deafening clash against Death Knight’s Scythe of Sariel. They raised their weapons, waving them overhead.

“Yes. I dare stand against you, Death Knight!!”

Dimitri decides to face Death Knight head on as you tried your best to keep his back safe from the Imperial soldiers assaults. Keeping a close eye on him... just in case, following from a few meters back, cover his blind spots that way, look out for any potential danger. You could see them coming around, carefully and quietly trying to find their way to Dimitri.

Landing sharp blows, you bring the blade down on the head of another mage. Slashing your way through numerous enemies, you start to feel fatigued. Countless enemies lying dead behind. You looked around, among the sea of red and black, a swordmaster is sneaking his way behind Dimitri, ready to ambush him.

But you wouldn’t let it happen!

You were fully offensive, rapidly swinging your sword down on the swordmaster. You were able to deflect, parry, and block most of his attacks until his foot swept across your ankles, knocking you hard to the floor. The swordmaster stood above you, ready to press his sword into your chest to end your life. Fatigue made it harder for you to evade his deadly stab completely. Sound of a weapon piercing through flesh filled your ears, followed by an intense pain in your side. He pulled it back out with a triumphant smirk on his face. Despite the searing pain, you made it in time to grab your own weapon and thrust it up to his neck, your arms shaking as you tried to counter the weight of his attack. Grimace crossing your face as he fell, blood painting the earth a sick shade of red.

You sat up, wincing at the searing, burning hot pain on your side. The stab wound was way too deep. Your hands trembled, desperately attempting to put pressure on the wound as heavy flow of your blood is trickling through your fingers, colors your skin and clothes. The world had turned blurry, and your body felt weak. Ignoring the excruciating pain, you rush forward to help Dimitri. He has won against the Death Knight. But in his brief reverie, the Tempest King failed to notice two opposing snipers are approaching him, expression intent to kill, aiming their arrows at his back.

You acted on instinct, rushing forward, sprinting to intervene. To protect him.

‘We have been through so much together and he’d been through hell and back... I want to ease his pain. Knowing he’s safe... I can be at peace.’

You thought to yourself, launching forward. You barely has energy to stand up, but you tried to muster your last remaining strength to dove in before Dimitri. The arrows managed to easily make it’s way through your armor, landing in your chest and abdomen. ‘I have no regret when it came to protecting Dimitri.’

Your body slammed hard on the ground, careening across the battlefield. A sharp cry pained noise escaped you; that was all it took. Dimitri stiffened at the sound. It pulled him from the high of the battlefield down to reality in an instant.

“(Y/N)!!!”

He turned; filled with horror and rage. The fires blazing around him didn’t give off any heat. The battlefield around him turned black and white. His ears were ringing as if he’d been caught in an explosion. Dimitri went after the snipers and thrust them both at their hearts. After a quick glance to make sure no more surprise attacks happen, he kneels and pulling you into his chest. You looked so small, felt so limp that it sickened him. Broken and battered with littered scars and large wound on your side. Arrows jutting out of your chest, much too close to the heart, and another one lodged deep in your abdomen.

Dimitri watched as the blood pooled around you. Blood... there is so much blood. Your blood.

“Goddess... what were you- MERCEDES! FLAYN!! SOMEONE...HELP!!”

He pulled himself up, beside you, staring at your face. You were so pale. Oh, Goddess, you were dying. Were you already dead?

“I’m sorry.” There isn’t a reason to apologize, you aren’t sorry, but it still came out like the blood that is on Dimitri’s hands now.

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” his voice choked off in his throat feels raw with emotions, barely able to hold back the sob which demands to escape, “not when you are like this. What were you thinking, (Y/N)? You have promised me to not be reckless.” He phrased it in a question, but both know why.

“Y-You... haven’t seen the... swordmaster... and those snipers. Y-You...were going to die...if they attack you. I want to protect you.... and I don’t regret my decision.“

You opened your mouth to speak but immediately coughed, feeling globs of blood on the corners of your lips. Dimitri gripped your hand, his hold so tight that it hurt, but you wouldn’t waste your breath on telling him. You could barely see Mercedes scurried over to your side as quickly as she could, Flayn follows behind her, leaving the Death Knight behind with tears running down her cheeks.

“Please stay awake for me a little longer, please.”

He choked out, pulling you closer if possible as it would keep you from leaving.

The chaos around you went mute as your eyes grow heavy. Maybe a quick nap would suffice.

“No...no, no, (Y/N)!! You can’t do this to me, you can’t-! Please, (Y/N), I can’t lose you too.....”

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. You fell asleep.

---

Every second was filled with anxiety; you’d lost so much blood. The wounds were too deep to heal completely. There was little to no possibility of survival. Not after what you’d been through.

The days turned to one week, then two...then three. The physical wounds had healed, mostly repaired and faded to scars. There was potential for things to return to normal, and you may wake up sooner rather than later.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, your upper body covered in bandages. The first thing you’re aware of is a dull throb radiating throughout your entire body. You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your body and sending a wave of pain through your chest and stomach as you tried to get up. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before. With much struggle, you sat on the edge of the bed shakily trying to stand up. The door creaked open and you looked up to find Dimitri peering inside.

”You’re awake,” he said, a look of surprise on his face. You tried to stand up and walk to him but failed, Dimitri ran in and caught you before you fell over. “I thought I was going to lose you, (Y/N),” he said, lifting you up effortlessly, settling you gently onto the bed and pulled up a chair.

As cautiously as you could, you managed to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the young king, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

“You nearly died because of me. I have no right to be... you of all people shouldn’t-!” He managed to say, his voice shaking as his fingers trembled.

His head shot up to look at you, cerulean blue eyes dampened by tears that pooled in them. Your eyes were open, though weakly, looking at him and his disturbed state. You sensed his worry, but also his relief as he hovers next to your bed, engulfing you in his embrace and squeezing you against his chest for all he was worth. He was mindful of your wound, but that wasn’t enough to keep him away. No, he needed you. He needed to be beside you, to feel you, to know you were there.

“I’m okay, Dimitri...” You whispered, resting a hand on his chest where his heart thundered. You closed your eyes against him, relishing the feel of his tender warmth.

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening. Your arms wrapped around his heaving back weakly, rubbing it soothingly. He pulled you closer in response—closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

"I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, holding your hands so tight that it hurts.

“But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

His voice was as quiet as it could be and it made you frown your eyebrows in worry. You were happy to see him alive, that was your goal when you decided to protect him from the approaching enemies. However, seeing him so distraught and afraid twisted your insides uncomfortably. The way he held your hand so desperately, afraid to let go.

“Dimitri.” You call him quietly, which makes him look at you with those gorgeous eyes of him.

You move your hand to his cheeks, caressing his soft skin, trying to bring him even the tiniest amount of comfort. Leaning to give him a soft chaste kiss on his lips. He reciprocated by open-mouthed kiss you with such fervor. There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way Dimitri kisses you, as if this is the last moment he’ll ever feel it. It’s almost as if it pains him to be this close to you. You were alive, yet he couldn’t help but doubt it. Perhaps it was once again due to the vicious noises he still heard, though faintly. However, he was glad that they allowed him this moment of happiness.

“I won’t leave you, Dimitri.” You promised between ragged breath, your chest heaving.

“We are so close to ending this. Please, promise me you’ll stay safe. Rest, for now, my beloved.” Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding your hand to his chest. “I promise, I will never let you be hurt for my sake again.” Covering you with a blanket and tucking you into bed to retire for the evening.

---

After your awakening, the Blue Lions and Professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts (flowers and snacks), always encourage you to get better soon. But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved gentle king.

It was two weeks since you have gotten better. Mercedes promised to take care after your bandages this evening.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?”

You met Mercedes’ warm gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be, Mercedes.”

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your breasts to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Mercedes sighed, slowly traced the scars your chest and stomach.

“I’m sorry but we will never be able to remove the scars. The wounds all healed, but... the scars will never go away completely. I’m sorry (Y/N).”

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“It’s okay. I will never regret such a thing.” You smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Do you need anything else, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m all good, Mercedes! Thank you for your help.”

“All right, then. Annette said that she needs my help with her baking this evening. We have to finish it before midnight! Should you need anything, please feel free to call me.” Mercedes gave you last smile before excusing herself politely from your quarter.

“Dimitri.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. Refusing to look at your scar, a harsh reminder of his failure.

“Look at me.”

He stilled and won’t budge to look at you.

“I will never regret nor blame you for this. It was my decision and if it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again in a heartbeat. Or... perhaps.... I can understand if you find that my... scars are disgusting, appalling, even....” you whisper softly, almost inaudible. Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into your bed.

“DON’T SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF!!” He growled “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me. If.. If something ever happen to you.. I’ll live a life worse than death itself, (Y/N).”

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. His mouth moved awkwardly yet full of affection. Hands planted on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravishing kisses. Dimitri pressed his lips further into yours, swallowing your moans. His lips left yours to trail down around your neck, breasts, and stomach lovingly. “This wounds... I cannot lose you again, my beloved.” His body quivered. The King kissing the scars on your cleavage and abdomen, worshiping them reverently with tender touches, almost like touching a porcelain doll. Afraid to break you with his almost inhuman power. Biting and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites, leaving you a panting mess.

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling whispers of ‘I’m sorry’. Bittersweet smile formed on his lips. He gazed at you, eyes lidded with desires and need, mixed with guilt and love. “(Y/N)... My beloved...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled.

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into.

“I love you, Dimitri.”

He blushed at your words, then it dawned on his realization. Suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “Um, w-well...” As he came to his full senses he released his hands from you, as though from fire and stuttered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the dreamlike stupor a d hazy feeling to distract you, you realized just how naked you are. Nightgown pooled beneath your waist. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

He flinched, breaking eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah—Urghh!!! I’m sorry, (Y/N)!! I don’t know what came over me but.. but... P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...” The King unclasped his furred cloak hurriedly and put it over your naked body unceremoniously, hiding his flushed crimson face in his hands again, absolutely brutalized with shame.

“Er.. Be certain to rest for now. We may have undone some of your healing.” Then he said hurriedly, almost inaudibly. “When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I promise.”

“Fine...” You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, Dimitri.”

You pulled his hand to your lips and give each of his fingers soft kisses, gazing at him lovingly. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the poor king desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

“Good night, my beloved (Y/N).” Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, the Blue Lions Leader left with a haste that was probably unbecoming of a gentleman, his long legs taking the steps to the second floor dormitory two at a time. He somehow, somehow managed to reach his room without incident or interruption, locking his door behind him, leaning back against it and covering his burning red face with his hands. His body felt like it was on fire; nerve endings alight with sensations he had long believed were dead.

The pit of his stomach tangled in knots when he thought of (Y/N). All he could think about was your pure unadultered love, beautiful (E/C) that is gazing at him affectionately. Goddess, he was such a sinner. It made him want to put his hands on you. All over you. Repeatedly. Savoring the taste of your lips as you moan into his mouth. Feeling your warmth and love. Unclothed. His mind is running wild. This frantic sensation in his blood, while half-forgotten, was not new. It will be another sleepless night for the poor king. And it’s all because of you.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fire emblem three houses #dimitri fluff #fe dimitri x reader #dimitri smut #sfw #fluff #smut #dimitri angst

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hhjs · 3 years

Text

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary — Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

You accept it.

For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all.

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour. Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe. While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him.

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell.

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose. You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night. See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart.

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.” he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

“I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side.

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous.

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it.

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say.

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

—

Kiss underneath a mistletoe.

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right.

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different. Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

—

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh. Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you? "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know. Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

—

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear, "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

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mammons-tax-returns · 3 years

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Hey! I saw that your ask box was open, so I was wondering if I could request how the brothers (if not all then just Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Leviathan) would react to the mc defending them! Like they get into a fight and their only response was "they were talking bad about you" or something! -🥀 (Also side note, do you right for GN! MC's, or just male?)

BROTHERS REACTING TO MC DEFENDING THEM

Hey anon! Thanks so much for requesting! As for your question, This is TECHNICALLY a male reader blog, however, if it isn’t necessary, I will use he/him pronouns loosely. In other words, if the prompt doesn’t specify/depend on it being a male mc, it will be gn!mc! Hope this clears up some confusion! I’ll start putting whether a post is for a gn or male mc at the very beginning of said post from now on.

✖️GENDER NEUTRAL MC✖️

fluff, some angst :).

Lucifer was more angry than anything to hear that MC had gotten in a fight. The one thing he made sure they did was to stay out of trouble. And yet, they seem to be a magnet for chaos.

He stumbled upon the fight before it got bad, and had the demon dealt with as he accompanied MC to an empty room at RAD.

Although he seemed to be sweating out of exasperation, it was easy to tell that he was simply worried about them.

Well. Kind of.

If you look past the hour-long lecture it is.

MC tries countless times to explain themself, and yet he never fails to reroute the conversation back to his lesson on running from a demon before things get bad.

It gets to a point when MC has to put a hand over his mouth to quiet him.

Only then do they explain what happened, and what caused the fight to begin with.

First, he is absolutely shocked. And he can’t really find the right thing to say.

Then, his eyes relax, and his frown seems to melt away. He truly wants to be mad still, to teach a proper lesson. But he just can’t do it.

“It is true that humans tend not to think things through, I suppose.”

He crosses his arms and continues, “Well, I appreciate it, but I don’t need the protection.”

After ruffling their hair, he smirks a little.

“I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you if you rush into situations like that. Maybe put you on a leash.”

After things are cleared up, he finds the situation a little comical. A human defending a demon.

Luckily, the wounds aren’t bad, or else Lucifer wouldn’t have hesitated giving some sort of consequence to the MC.

Mammon is, unfortunately, not around to witness or intervene into the fight.

So when the next time he sees MC there’s a dark magenta ring around their eye, he loses it.

He wastes no time taking them home from RAD. We know he never really cared for classes anyways.

Unlike Lucifer, he wants to hear them out on the way home.

Although he physically feels himself getting butterflies in his stomach from the idea of being cared for, he clears his throat and tries to push it aside.

He knows that they’re not going to be taken away from him anytime soon. At least, not with his unintentionally vice grip on their wrist they aren’t.

And yet he can’t help but constantly flick his gaze back to them and their wounds.

We were all waiting for this one: he feels horrible that they got hurt because of him, albeit indirectly.

He puts emphasis on steering clear of hotheaded demons— or, all demons that aren’t the brothers for that matter.

“I hear ya, The Great Mammon is a gem that all of devildom should be tryna’ protect! But... You’re better off ignoring that... I mean, look at ya! All beat up and stuff... N-Not that you look bad or anything. Well... Um.”

When MC laughs at him, he’s both relieved that they’re not upset enough to sulk, and embarrassed because of his wording.

So they have to reassure him that they simply find him worth protecting— for exactly this. He cares for them, and is probably willing to protect them too.

As he’s sloppily tending to their bruises, he offers to spend the day with them.

He says its his payment, and that he would defend them when Lucifer found out about today.

But it’s more so the fact that he wishes more than anything to spend every day for the rest of his demonic life with them.

Levi is another brother who is unfortunately not around at the time due to his home schooling.

That’s why he’s one of the last people to find out about it, and he feels guilt hit him like an 18-wheeler.

The injuries are a little more severe, but nothing that would keep someone from going about their daily life. Nonetheless, Levi is demanding to be the one to patch them up.

As soon as MC cuts him off before he can start rambling, they make sure to explain the situation, i.e. “I had to defend you! Or else they would have kept talking bad about you.”

He turns red and covers his mouth, undoubtedly mumbling something about how impossibly romantic the situation was.

But after that, he shakily asks that MC tries not to talk as he takes time to let everything sink in. He still can’t believe it.

So he finds himself shakily asking questions like, “So... You just heard him and decided to-... To defend me? No one asked you to?”

For every reassuring nod that he gets, he feels his head spin a little faster.

It takes him a while, but all the wounds are properly sterilized and taken care off beneath his cold fingers.

He leans back in his seat, and blows out a slow puff of air. “MC... You’re badass. Seriously. I don’t really know what I, a demon, have done to deserve you... But... Thank you.”

The conversation ends with tears, but they couldn’t have been anything but happy.

He just can’t believe someone could go as far as to fight for his sake over a simple ill-intended comment.

Satan witnesses the event. Which... May or may not be a good thing.

MC doesn’t notice him at first. They’re too busy with the demon that has her hands on their uniform collar.

But then they see the green flames licking at their peripherals, emitting from somewhere behind them.

The demon girl in front of them seems to lose all color in her face at the sight of those same flames. She instantly drops MC to their knees, and attempts to run.

As Satan steps forward to grab the female student, he spins MC around with ease so that they won’t have to witness whatever he’s about to do.

MC doesn’t know how much time has passed due to the shock of the moment. It could be seconds or minutes. But when Satan pulls them back up to their feet, he is stone faced.

MC walks stiffly to the House of Lamentation with Satan, careful not to set anything else off in him.

The entire walk to his room is silent. The first time he speaks is when he offers a seat on his bed, nudging books aside with his foot.

He takes a deep breath before he begins diligently tending to the injuries.

“Mind explaining what happened?” He doesn’t sound angry at them, but it’s hard to tell with him.

Satan notices the hesitation in answering, so he gives a small smile. “Are you scared? You shouldn’t be. I’m just a bit... Tense, is all.”

After a moment, MC tells him the reasoning for the fight.

Satan sighs once more and places a hand on theirs. Oh to be so selfless yet still be a fragile human.

“MC... Demons talk. And it’s not always nice. It’s best to just let it go, okay? Well... Give me their name first, but I can’t have you losing a limb for me. Who knows what i’d do then.”

MC can’t completely promise that they’ll simply forget about anyone that talks badly about him, but Satan only gives a helpless sigh.

“What ever will we do with you.” He is much more relaxed than before, and his tone is affectionate.

MC doesn’t know what happened to that girl, and you figure it’s best to never ask.

Asmodeus is preoccupied with a hand mirror, but a circle of gathering demons certainly catches his attention.

He hums, interested. He’s always been one for drama.

But as he peeks over the crowd, his heart sinks impossibly deep in his body.

MC isn’t bloody, but by the looks of it, they may be very soon.

While he’s ridden with shock, a punch lands on their face, and the crowd roars. The yells overtake his own, and he can’t get through the group of people pushing and shoving.

Diavolo and Barbatos were alerted of the congregation of students, and are only just now arriving. And at the sight of them, students scatter like bugs. Leaving MC on the ground and clutching their face in pain.

Diavolo and Barbatos leave MC in the care of Asmodeus while they turn to resolve the problem with the attacker.

Asmodeus is frantic, fanning his face as he helps MC to sit up. He doesn’t know what to do first, does he ask to see the wound? But what’s the point when he doesn’t really know how to treat it in any circumstance? No one has ever socked him in the face before.

So he opts to carry them off to the infirmary, bridal style. All along the way, he gives reassuring words that seem to slightly calm the injuried MC.

“Hey, beautiful! Ughh, the nerve of some demons! I can’t even begin to— Oh right... The ice pack, I’ll get that now, so sit tight, love!”

While he allows them to press the ice to their eye themself, he is massaging his frowning face. All while he seems to be worried about all the wrong things.

“Is this type of injury permanent on humans?? Your face is too good for that!” “That low-level demon... I wish I could ruin his face a hundred times worse than what he’s doing to innocent bystanders!”

MC patiently allows him to vent, because hearing him fret of the most “Asmo” things somehow brought light to the situation and distracted from the throbbing in their face.

An hour must have passed before Asmo actually takes in the situation. “Oh, but I haven’t even asked... What in devildom were you doing with such a grotesque demon? Do I have to replace Mammon in guarding you?”

Finally, MC explains.

He’s less than shocked. Instead, he holds his own arms with an almost sympathetic smile, “Oh, darling... It’s better to talk to Lucifer about things like that... If at all. As the Avatar of Lust, It’s kind of part of the program to get nasty birds twittering about you... Fan behavior.”

MC seems less than convinced, replying with a small, “But...”

Asmo grins and puts a gentle hand on their shoulder. “It’s adorable that you’d do that for me, MC, really. I wish I could just dress you up and show you to the world, show them how special you make me feel! But please. Don’t sacrifice your complexion for a-ny-thing!”

Even Asmo can feel himself get butterflies when MC does the smallest of things for him. But taking care of that face is no joke to him.

Beel is at the gym when it happens, and is the last one to hear about it. The brothers are all discreetly trying to decide whether or not to tell him. We all know how scary he can get.

MC listens to Mammon... For some reason. And that entails avoiding Beel until the scrapes and bruises on your body heal.

Bad idea. Beel now looks like a hurt puppy, and is desperately trying to figure out what he has done.

The fateful moment of realization for him comes on a Tuesday night, less than a week after the incident. MC walks into the kitchen, searching for a late night beverage to drink and also hold against their wounds.

Beel is already there, instantly looking ashamed when he sees them.

“Beel...” MC starts, forgetting that they were supposed to be avoiding him. They stop themselves before hastily pulling their sleeves down to cover the lingering bruises.

This catches Beel’s attention to detail when it comes to others.

His eyebrows furrow a bit, and MC gulps. There was no getting out of this.

Before completely explaining everything, MC has to calm him. Because if not, he’d be checking every inch of their body for serious injuries. And even if there were none, he’d never let them leave bed for the next week. At least.

They take a deep breath and start with the people poking fun at his soft personality in such an intimidating body. And then finishing with the plan of steering clear of him to keep him from getting worried. (you leave out mammon’s part last second)

At first, his eyes are serious as he listens intently, silently going over things more than once in his head to ensure that he was understanding the story properly.

Once MC has finished, his eyes change completely. They’re soft, and concerned, but not overbearing.

MC felt a bit guilty seeing him like this.

Beel reaches out to hug them, but is hesitant, worried that they’d still be hurt. So MC has to let him know that their wounds have healed for the most part.

“MC.... Firstly, thank you.” He pulls them into a soft hug. “It makes me all happy on the inside when you do things like that.” His voice is quiet, but much too unstable. MC knew that this was a telltale sign that he was near tears.

MC doesn’t hesitate to reach up and stroke the back of his hair, feeling him bury his head into their shoulder.

“Beel? Are you okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

‘you should know better’ is what he wants to say. But maybe they don’t, he thinks. Afterall, when was the last time a human with such limited magical capability was surrounded by demons 24/7?

“I just need you to promise me.” He carefully pulls back and sucks in a breath, keeping himself from imagining MC scared and hurt without him— because of him.

“Promise me that you’ll tell me about things like that first. Before you get yourself hurt, or... Or worse.” There’s another word that he has to stop himself from saying. He doesn’t know how he could handle that thought.

There, he thinks. If they didn’t know before how serious it was, now they did. Hopefully.

The brothers notice that Beel is a bit more normal than the days before, so they assume that things have been cleared up for the two.

Although they have to pretend as if they had never heard about the incident when he mentions it.

Belphie was definitely not there when it happened.

But unlike with every other brother, MC was unable to be saved immediately after having found themselves in a brawl with a low class demon.

MC silently curses as they find themselves limping through the halls of the House of Lamentation.

They’re lucky to have only gotten out of that with an injured ankle, they remind themself. It didn’t seem... Broken. But it definitely needed more medical attention than it received now— A knee-high sock they pulled off of their foot wrapped tightly around a ruler they used as a makeshift splint.

They were sure that the majority of the brothers were at school, so they’d have at least a few hours to figure out what to do.

How would the brothers react if they saw them like this? Would they feel that this was a mere inconvenience? Afterall, this may just be a bad sprain, and now look at them. They can barely limp. Much less walk. But maybe after a bit of rest, it would magically heal.

They decide to head to the music room (?), where they knew that none of the brothers would immediately run into after school.

After finding a stool to sit on, MC hisses when they bump their ankle on the floor. The throbbing seemed to shake their whole body.

“Holy shi—“

“MC?”

A sleepy drawl from the couch behind them causes them to freeze. They wanted to slap themself. Of course Belphie would be sleeping here, why didn’t they think of that?

“What’re you doing h—....” He stops.

MC can already tell that he had noticed the poor job they had done with their ankle. “I fell down the stairs. But it’s okay, I just—“

“MC. I’m not stupid. Why are you home so early, alone? If you skipped or left early, Mammon would have sniffed you out like a dog and be here, too. Spill it.”

If Belphie was good at anything (besides sleeping), it was reading emotions. There was no lying anymore. And so MC simply explained the fight and its causes.

When they turn to look at him, he simply blinks. He doesn’t seem very concerned, but he sleepily walks over to inspect their leg.

He’s careful to support their foot as he lifts their entire leg, checking the swelling.

“... Geez. You’re stupid.” His eyebrows knit together with an unknown emotion. Worry? Irritation? A mix of both? “I don’t care about what such irrelevant demons think, and you shouldn’t either.”

MC is a little speechless, but only laughs. “Yeah. It was a little dumb looking back at it. But you should have heard them, Belphie... There was no way I’d go without a fight, okay?”

Belphie smiles back. “If you wanted to prove yourself to me... There were other ways, you know?”

“Should we get Beel to help us set up the pillow fort?”

“Well, how else are you gonna heal? You can’t get better if you don’t rest with me.”

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me gender neutral mc #gn mc #fluff #fanfic #lucifer #mammon #levi #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #belphie #beel #belphegor #beelzebub

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artbyrivaille · 3 years

Text

Hair ☕

Okay, so at the outset, I would like to emphasize that English is not my mother tongue and I am still learning. But writing is my hobby and I decided that I will try my skills here too, in English, I invite you to write requests, I hope you will like it!

3,5k words!

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She was strong. She was a good soldier, commander, companion.

But she was also a beautiful woman with an amazing figure who was envied by many. Despite being quite short, because she was only five feet three, she had long slender legs. Overall, she was considered a beautiful woman. However, she had short hair.

Her hairstyle was practically identical to Levi's, but no one accused her of trying to look like him, as she was cutting her hair that way long before Ackerman joined the survey corps.

Oh, she and Levi. It was quite a sneaky topic, let alone the rumors around the body. They were often seen in each other's company, people interpreted it differently.

Some said it was just a friendship and a bond they established when Ackermann was part of her branch at the beginning of his career. And the others insinuated the supposed romance of the two. Well the versions were really different, but the truth was that y/n and good captain Levi were just two great friends. The woman was one of the few people who knew the man's past, and shared with him some facts about her. Because they both came from the Underground, however, and managed to get out of there on their own, and not with the help of scouts, as was the case with Levi.

At first they were not very sympathetic, quite the opposite. They had very similar characters, which theoretically should indicate that they will get along well, but that was only theoretically. In practice, they got on their nerves terribly.

But despite this aversion to a man, it was precisely this that helped him the most after the death of Farlan and Izabel. She provided him with comfort, help and warmth. Something no one else could give him. It was thanks to her that he recovered so quickly, and he was in the place where he was at the moment.

At some point their relationship began to take a less formal path. More and more often they stayed at each other's offices, helped each other with Erwin's sentences, that is, documentation. They drank tea together, despite the fact that the brunette was a coffee advocate, she made an exception for Levi and almost completely gave it up. They had similar problems, especially those with sleep, may both of them suffer from insomnia, so when the entire corps was asleep, they sat in the two of them over documents, or simply spent their free time together.

Y/n did not even know the exact moment when she began to care in this other, more intimate way on the short captain. It came overnight. Of course, she was behaving the same as before, after all, she was not some horny teen, but a mature woman, but at the moment when she was going to the black-haired's office, or she just knew that he would see him, her body was flooded with heat. And maybe she wouldn't care so much if it wasn't for the fact that she had short hair.

She loved the short haircut, the long hair simply irritated her and disturbed the soldier's everyday life, but she was afraid that they might be an obstacle to any closer relationship with Ackerman.

***

She sat quietly in her office filling out paperwork for Erwin. She nervously tweaked her hair, which was longer than usual, because every time she tried to cut it, something was getting in the way and that was how it was already quite long.

The silence in the office was broken by the sudden opening of the door through which entered a black-haired man with pliers and a towel in his hand. He closed the door with a bang and set the items on the coffee table, then looked at the woman poring over reports and other documents.

"You have long hair." He said suddenly and walked closer to her chair, and when he was next to him, he entangled his hand in her dark strands. She breathed a breath and leaned against the back of the armchair, massaging her temples at the same time giving herself to the caress.

"I didn't have time to cut them off because of the last expedition, and with all the crap Erwin did, I have more work to do than ever. And Hanji keeps following me all the time and asks if I managed to convince Bushbread to do experiments on titans." She explained in frustration then exhaled her mouth with a whistle.

"Tch, fucking shitty glasses. Come on, rest a little, cut off your hair, and you will give me a haircut." He replied then pulled the woman's chair back and, grabbing her hand, led her to the bathroom. She was so tired of it all that she didn't care, and the presence of a cobalt-eyed woman was calming, so she didn't resist. "Get your hair wet." He gave the order, which she followed by putting her head in the shower and then she wet her hair with a stream of water. Ackermann handed her a towel, which she grabbed and dried her hair.

Let the two go back to the brunette's office, meanwhile she took off her jacket and threw it on the couch, which Ackermann only huffed, but said nothing. She sat down without a word on the low stool that the man had prepared at that time. He ran a hand through her hair a few times and began carefully trimming it.

"Can I ask you a question?" She finally gave up y/n, unable to withstand the silence in the room

"You ask them anyway, so why do you ask me for permission." The bored man replied by which l/n raised the corner of her mouth in a small smile.

"What do you think about women with short hair?" She asked, and black hair stopped breathing for a moment. What the hell was that about? Is this some kind of provocation?

"What am I supposed to think. They are no less feminine because they do not have long hair, their appearance does not define a person." He replied quite neutral, not realizing that he had just kindled a little ray of hope in his friend's heart. "And why do you ask?"

"Because I care about someone, and all in all, I wanted to know your opinion." Ah yes. His heart leapt into his throat, and his stomach seemed to have a 3D maneuvering device. Someone did she like? But who the hell. After all, the only men with whom she spent time was himself, Erwin, sometimes he encountered Moblit in the company of Hanji and Mike. Who could steal her heart enough to make her care about her hairstyle? Probably Erwin. That fucking perfect general.

Maybe Levi didn't have complexes as such, but he was always a little jealous of Smith. He had a perfect body, he was tall, intelligent, had a high position in the military, and he came from a non-poor family. He was nothing compared to the blonde, he had nothing to offer. And he would like so much to have her with him.

"I'm done." He muttered softly brushing single hairs from the woman's clothes. She got up from the stool and unintentionally combed her dark hair. She looked beautiful, but he wouldn't tell her that.

"Your turn." She said and took the pliers from his hand. This time it was he who sat on the stool. He involuntarily smiled under his breath and closed his eyes at the woman's gentle touch. He was literally like a docile kitten. Why couldn't she be his?

***

He had been avoiding her like plague for about two weeks. He was irritated by the lack of a black-haired woman around him, but he knew that if it was like before, he would take the blow even worse.

A blow that would never come.

Y/n really didn't know what she could do wrong. After all, everything was fine, and then overnight Ackerman began to avoid her. Maybe he just got bored?

At first she explained his ignorance with overwork, in the end everyone in the command had their heads off. But when one day in a row she saw him sitting quietly with Petra, she knew it was not it. By the way, seeing a redhead in his company, something broke in her. What did this teenager have that she did not have? Did their relationship really mean nothing to him? So many questions, so few answers.

And this way almost every evening she landed in Erwin's office with Hanji with a bottle of whiskey or vodka, depending on what Smith had in the bar. Erwin and Hange really couldn't comprehend the change in brunet's behavior, and the sight of a really hurt l/n was so pathetic as to be nasty.

And so the next evening the three gathered in Smith's office where they once again debated about the captain's behavior.

"I do not feel it completely, so change the attitude towards people overnight.

I know that our curly pedantic has its own rules, but without exaggeration." Hanji announced, finishing the rest of the whiskey from her glass.

"Maybe something made him do it?" Smith replied, then grabbed his chin.

"Tch, and this thing is called Petra Ral, really fascinating." Black-haired girl summed up pouring herself and Zoe whiskey.

Their conversations were so loud that they interested Ackerman who was just about to make himself a cup of tea. But when he heard three familiar voices, he stood at the door of Smith's office, listening to what was being said.

"Don't take it for granted." Erwin said and frowned by the high concentration of alcohol in his glass.

"So what could be the reason Levi is ignoring me then? Just like logic Erwin, there are two options, or he has something to me and he distorts what is unfortunately but impossible because he always treated me only as a friend. Or he just shoots with Petra, and that's what I believe more. "Did they talk about him? What romance with Petra? And y/n cared for him the way he wanted it, but he's just an idiot and he broke it? He held his breath for a moment and tried to enter the room, but stopped himself and continued to stand still.

"Like it or not, I have to agree with the above. Although I keep my fingers crossed for the first version." Squeaked at the end of the woman, which caused a loud sigh of disapproval from y/n.

"Shut up Hanji, I don't want to hope again for something that will never happen." She growled angry and hurt. She really cared about him. Not on any Erwin, Moblit or Mike, but on him. On a goddamn Underground thief with a hard character and misophobic aspirations. Damn it, don't let this be a dream.

He walked away from the door and headed for his office. He has even forgotten why he left it at all. He sat down at the desk and stared blankly at the sky until the very morning, trying to put everything in his head. He must try to fix what he broke.

***

Like a day like every other day. There was no expedition, no surprises, just an ordinary day in the recon. Well, maybe almost. Because Ackerman had been nervous and a little stressed since the morning. And it wasn't just because he wanted to talk to y/n seriously, but largely because he couldn't find her anywhere. As to spite that day, she sank underground, his only salvation could be Erwin. Which office was on his way to. The evening and dinner time was approaching, so he wanted to come to him before her, to look for the presence of a woman at the last meal, if necessary.

He entered the office without knocking, Smith merely looked up from the mountain of documents he had probably been studying since this morning, then turned him back to the sheets of paper.

"What you want Levi?" He asked breaking the silence prevailing in the room. He was pretty sure why this one had come to him, but preferred not to reveal all the cards at once.

"Where is y/n"? Erwin sighed and then put down his quill and straightened up in his chair. He was afraid of Levi's reaction, but what could he do if the milk had already spilled?

"She went on a mission. She should be back in two or three days at the most." He replied with a straight face in the middle being a bit irritated by the reaction of the black-haired man.

"What mission? And why the hell didn't I know anything about this." Ackerman asked, very angry with the news once again.

"Maybe because you've been avoiding her for a long time? Maybe because it's a secret mission, I'm not obligated to tell you everything, Levi. I respect you and treat you as a friend, so I will give you some friendly advice. Think about what you really want and don't screw it up. I don't think I need to tell you what I'll do to you if you hurt her, not to mention Hanji." A faint smile affected his lips at the end of his speech.

"It's none of your business anymore. Thank you for the information." He replied coolly and, not worried about the threat of his friend, left his office.

So he was supposed to wait? He hated waiting. Uncertainty burst him from the inside, these few days will probably be a real nightmare for him.

***

It was well past nine o'clock, so most of the Corps' soldiers were resting in their quarters. Only a few officers were still in the courtyard. And Levi was watching them from his office.

Week. She has been gone since fucking week.

And he was consumed not only by uncertainty, but also by fear. Because they didn't know anything, not even Erwin, who entrusted the woman with this mission. Through it all, the captain was irritated and angry from day to night. Everyone wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Even Petra must have found out about his bad mood when some two days after y/n's departure, she felt bad for the fact that she smiled at him instead of focusing on cleaning. The last time he was afraid was when he first left for exeption.

Suddenly, a horse ran into the courtyard, on the back of which was a scout, but he was clearly unconscious, barely clinging to his mount. At first, Ackerman did not move from his place, but when he heard the screams about the return of squad leader l/n and summoning the medics, he sprinted out of the office.

When he was already leaving, he saw only a brunette, which two cadets were carrying on a stretcher to the infirmary. There was blood everywhere, and the worst case scenario flashed through his mind. She might have died.

He knew that they would not let him into the infirmary anyway, and the cadets didn't know anything, the only option was once again Erwin. What a mission it was to make her come back like this.

He hurried to Smith's office and threw open the door. He did not care about the surprised face of Hanji, who was sitting on the blonde's couch, but he walked over to the man and grabbed him tightly by the collar of a white shirt.

"What was that mission? And why did you send her over there alone, don't you care that she's just fighting for her life?" He was screaming at the top of his throat, he didn't care what everyone thought of him right now, he didn't care about the consequences, he only cared that he could lose her before he actually possessed her.

"In Stohess there is a man who leads the gang. It interfered with various shipments and the like. They are also active in the Underground. The task was to diversify into their ranks, apparently she did not quite succeed." He replied with stoic calm which made the black-haired man even more angry.

"Have you been really fucked up? Such a mission is not a job for one person, it is for the rest. Such matters should be handled by the MP's, not us!" He shouted and pushed the blonde back so that he almost fell from his chair.

"Only that they interfered mainly with transports to our corps. Mostly those not entirely legal. You know very well that a large amount of drugs and medical equipment we have is not entirely legal, but it is needed. I wanted to send the two of you on this mission, because both of you know the Underground, but she did not agree to you taking part in this mission. Probably because you were not getting along at that point." The man explained succinctly, and Ackerman said nothing. It was his fault, his goddamn fault. If only he wasn't such an asshole, nothing bad would have happened.

Until now, a silent Hanji came up to the shorter man and put her hand on his shoulder, the latter turned towards her, close to crying. Holy shit what she did with him.

"You'll finish later, for now, go to her." She ordered, and he nodded and without a word headed for the infirmary.

***

"When will she wake up?" He asked one of the medics, who was just finishing treating single wounds on the body of an unconscious woman.

"She should wake up in the morning. But probably not for long, he has to rest a lot now. She lost a lot of blood, it is surprising that she was even going here alive." She replied and got up from the small stool, putting the remnants of bandages and other medicaments on a silver tray. "But take it easy, she will get out of this, squad leader l/n is a damn tough woman, not just character. She will lick it." She added after a moment with a slight smile on her face trying to cheer the man up.

"I know she's strong." He replied quietly, his head bowed and his hands folded.

"So just be patient. I think she survived because she had someone to return to." She laughed softly and just left the room, leaving the slightly confused captain with the unconscious woman.

He slowly walked over to her bed and sat down next to it on the wooden chair. He grabbed her chilled hand and pressed it to his lips, giving it a tender kiss. He had to wait.

And so the hours went by, and Levi spent them thinking about his feelings for the woman and simply gazing at her adoringly.

She was so beautiful, he loved everything about her. From a smile that could not be seen too often, ending with short hair. He was lazily combing them almost all the time, not being surprised how pleasant they are. He did not even notice that it was starting to dawn, and the soldiers of the corps were slowly waking up to start another day of service. He also did not notice that Erwin accompanied by Hanji arrived in the room in the meantime, but when they saw the man sitting next to the y/n, they only smiled at each other and left, leaving them alone, of course they gave each other high five for fruitful cooperation.

"Wake up now, because these feelings will blow me up soon." The words were coming out of his mouth involuntarily. His eyes were closed, he tried to focus, to be patient. "I overheard your, Hanji and Erwin conversation about me. I really was an idiot. I shouldn't be away from you, that's why you're here at all. If I hadn't, you wouldn't be lying here, I wouldn't have allowed it. I have plans to blame Erwin for letting you go on this mission alone. But you don't know how much I was bursting from the inside by the thought that you care about someone, and that someone is not me. I was so fucking jealous. Ugh, feelings are a pain in the ass. You don't even know what you're doing with me. I just love you, and I love everything about you." There was a silence in the room, and the man breathed a sigh of relief, finally blurted out into the crowd of thoughts.

"Even my short hair?" Silence, a hoarse voice broke the silence in the room. The man immediately opened his eyes and straightened in his chair, a smile spread across his face at the sight of the woman's open eyes.

"Even short hair." He replied and once again ran his hand through it, and placed the other on her cheek.

"I heard everything, you idiot. Love you too." She said and smiled broadly as he reciprocated.

"I love you too." He replied and pressed their lips together in a kiss.

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lokust · 3 years

Text

Lore Olympus Tickle Headcanons!

I’m going to start with some side characters and then go into Hades and Persephone so enjoy this.

Eros

May come as a shock but I think Eros would be a true switch.

Loves being the lee or the ler in really any situation.

Absolutely loves to get Psyche all giggly, but he will not try to run away from retribution in the slightest.

As far as teasing when he’s in a ler mood, prefers the casual teases.

“Oh is this a bad spot? I didn’t notice?”

“No? What do you mean, no? You’re having a blast! You’re laughing like a maniac, you must be having a great time!”

Shockingly enough, casual teases don’t work on him.

But any like… baby talk teases?

Already on the floor, rolling around in a giggly puddle before he’s even touched.

Never been a fan of the tickle monster, as a lee or a ler.

Tickle monster teases just don’t get to him, and he doesn’t like to take on the “monster” role anyway.

Prefers to get straight to the point on either end of the tickling.

Anticipation does nothing but get him all frustrated and huffy.

Completely unashamed about his enjoyment of tickling.

He can be made to blush a bit if you talk about his little squeaks he tends to let out.

Or the faces he makes when he’s tickled.

His worst spot is on his right side, just above his hip.

With the right method, that spot will make him literally scream before he just breaks down into a pile of unhinged cackles and squeaks.

His favorite spot to have tickled is his shoulder blades. It gets him all giggly and squirmy but it makes him so happy.

His favorite spot to tickle is ribs. He absolutely loves ticklish ribs because he likes how many different tickly methods he can use on someone’s ribs.

50% lee/50% ler.

He’s the definition of a switch.

When he’s in a ler mood, he’s anything but subtle about it.

The first lee he can find is immediately turned into his victim (so long as they are okay with it of course).

His fingers literally start twitching, he gets absolutely restless.

His lee moods are almost identical.

He goes out searching for someone, and he isn’t above taking on a ler role for a moment to get someone to take revenge and satiate his mood.

Usually that’s not necessary as everyone can usually tell when he’s in a lee mood.

Gets all fidgety and excited.

No problem saying the t-word.

He doesn’t particularly like straight up asking for tickles, but he will if it’s absolutely necessary.

Loves gentle or rough tickles, it sometimes depends on his mood as to which one he wants but it usually doesn’t make a damn as long as someone is tickling him.

In that same sense, he always asks whether his lee prefers to be absolutely wrecked or if they want him to be gentle before he starts tickling them.

Hermes

Oh my God, can you say lee?

He literally will try to be a ler, but he just ends up flustering himself and curling up in a ball.

Secret little crush on Artemis.

While he usually ends up having to go to Eros or Persephone for his lee moods, the few times that Artemis has truly wrecked him gives her the spot as his favorite ler.

His laugh is loud and boyish and full of squeals. Literally cannot contain his laughter in the slightest.

His worst spot is his ribs, lucky for Eros.

His favorite spot is his sides, simply because they’re not as bad as his ribs, but they are almost as bad.

Any kind of teasing will literally kill him.

Sue me for this one but I think he’s a sucker for gentle tickles.

They get him all giggly and fidgety and he just curls up in a ball.

Though, he does love to be absolutely wrecked sometimes.

Absolutely loves raspberries, especially around his neck and ears.

Gentle kisses or nuzzles on any of his tickle spots make him absolutely forget how to function.

Give him nice raspberries on his tummy and sides and he will love you for the rest of eternity.

Be warned, he does kick. Completely unintentionally, but he can’t control it in the slightest.

Would rather choke on a lemon than say the t-word.

Asking for tickles? Sorry, he’s just going to bother everyone and their mothers until someone finally wrecks him.

And if that doesn’t work, he’s going to sulk under a pile of blankets until someone notices something is wrong, and he’ll do that for days if necessary.

Another quick warning, he is a cuddler. He’s going to want tons of cuddles afterwards and maybe even during if the tickles are gentle enough.

The worst best way to tease him is to talk about how much he loves it.

The tickle monster is his worst nightmare and he loves it.

Artemis

Not really much of a lee, but she doesn’t mind it from time to time.

Very brutal ler.

She’s not super ticklish, but she’s got a bad spot right under her kneecaps.

Remember how I said Hermes has a little crush?

Artemis is anything but dumb and she definitely knows.

Secretly has a soft spot for Hermes because he’s incredibly respectful, and he’s a very gentle soul.

Her teases are always absolutely evil.

Will chase her lee down.

Is absolutely not above cheap shots, she’ll go for a death spot immediately.

Like I said, she doesn’t much care to be a lee, but if she is feeling tickly, she’s going to want relaxing tickles, preferably on her back.

I don’t have much to say about Artemis.

One of the few times she tickled Hermes was when he fell asleep on her couch and he absolutely refused to get up.

She told him he had five seconds to get up and run because the tickle monster was coming after him.

When she caught him, she pinned one of his arms up and immediately started scratching and clawing at his ribs.

Loves to hear her lee laugh all helplessly.

Also gets a big head about making her lee all flustered so Hermes is a good match for her ego.

Her laugh is rich, it’s not too high pitched, or too low. It’s really consistent.

Her favorite spot to tickle is her lee’s hips.

Likes doing the thing where she digs her thumbs into their hipbones and wiggles the rest of her fingers on the back of their hips.

Can be gentle if her lee wants that.

Hecate

A ler. 100%

Never really tickled anyone until she and Hades got close, and then she turned into the ultimate tickle monster.

She literally is not ticklish. Any attempt at tickling her would be both useless and fatal.

Can recognize lee moods in an instant.

When she met Hermes, she was literally taken aback because she could just tell.

Her ler moods are not constant but they are consistent.

Would absolutely be Artemis’s partner in crime.

But Hecate is much more versatile when it comes to the type of ler she tends to be.

She’s either a seemingly merciless monster of a ler, or she’s a very nurturing, motherly ler.

It depends not only on her lee’s mood, but her own mood as well.

If her lee is having a bad day? Go get a hug from Hecate and let her give you the nicest tickles and teases you’ll ever get in your life.

Her lee is feeling playful and restless? Better watch out, she’s gonna have a blast destroying you.

Her favorite spot to tickle is her lee’s neck and ears, because they’re usually either just sensitive enough to get some giggles, or they’re an absolute death spot.

Her teasing is based on anticipation; Wiggling fingers and whispered teases about how bad it’s gonna tickle.

Loves to see her lee blush, but also loves to hear her lee scream when she gets to a particular ticklish spot.

Will start on a bad spot and pretend to move on from it before going right back to it.

Her favorite method is claws and spiders.

Like Artemis, she will absolutely chase her lee down, yelling out teases until she catches them.

And if you do run from her? It’s gonna be 100 times worse.

Running from Hecate is like poking a bear. It makes things worse for you, and much more fun for her.

Um aftercare? Yes. She’s gonna give you a blanket and some juice and she’s gonna make sure you’re all happy and tickled out before she gives you the biggest hug and tells you she’ll get you absolutely anything you need.

10/10. The best. Would absolutely poke this particular bear.

Persephone

Okay, Persephone is a very affectionate character.

So this is going to be a controversial take.

I feel like tickling happened so often when she was being raised in the mortal realm, that she got a little tired of being on the receiving end.

That’s not to say she absolutely hates tickles, but I do think she likes being a ler.

She does get occasional lee moods, but she doesn’t really like to be fully wrecked.

She wants cuddles and relaxing tickles while snuggled up under a blanket.

She’ll only tickle people if she knows for a fact that they’re absolutely, entirely comfortable with it.

If she does find out someone likes it, she will make sure they’re always receiving tickles when they want them.

Absolutely uses her magical flower goddess powers to tickle her lee, why would you even need to ask?

Teasing doesn’t really work on her because it’s just a part of the process in her mind.

Again, I feel like she went through a lot of tickles and teasing when she was growing up, so it was normal to her and none of it really affects her.

Her thighs and knees are her worst spot and I will die on that hill.

Doesn’t particularly care for her worst spots being tickled.

She likes her back being tickled because it’s relaxing.

Come on now, y’all know who her favorite lee is. Poor Hades.

Loves giving tummy tickles. It just makes her heart happy.

She is a master at teasing because she went through so much of it. She just knows what to say and do.

Her teasing is similar to Hecate’s. It’s all about anticipation.

She’ll claw her hands and wiggle her fingers above a bad spot and slowly get closer and closer to it until she finally starts tickling.

And the whole time she’s gonna be whispering teases.

“Uh oh… here it comes. Are you ready? I’m gonna tickle you!”

It literally doesn’t matter how badly she’s wrecking her lee, she always seems so sweet about it.

Could literally be killing them with tickles and she’d still be cooing about how sweet they are and how wonderful they’re doing.

Raspberries and tickly kisses are her specialty.

Definitely the type to laugh with her lee.

Literally can’t control it, she loves to see people happy and smiling.

No trouble saying the t-word or talking about tickle related things.

It’s a normal thing to her. It makes her happy and she knows it makes other people happy so she sees no reason to be ashamed of it.

Her laugh is light and bubbly.

If you do manage to wreck her, it turns shrill and high pitched, but that’s not really her cup of tea.

Hades

A bigger lee than Hermes.

The t-word makes him literally flinch in any context or situation.

So ashamed of it.

Would rather forget tickling even exists, but Hecate would never allow that and OH BOY PERSEPHONE WON’T EITHER.

Lee mood is his state of being.

Gets all huffy and embarrassed and mopes around hoping nobody notices and they all forget he exists.

Will not ask for it, will not provoke it, won’t even hint at it.

He literally always talks about wanting to feel safe and loved with someone, and wanting to be cared for.

Lee energy.

Cannot even begin to try to tickle someone because tickling in itself makes him want to hide under a rock.

Severely ticklish. Like, horrendously. He is a walking tickle spot, but his worst spot is his stomach.

Oh my God, he absolutely loves being tickled, it’s ridiculous.

Unlike the rest of them, his worst spot is his favorite spot.

His favorite ler will always be Persephone.

Likes to think nobody knows he’s a lee, but literally everyone knows.

Persephone tried to convince him that he doesn’t have to be so ashamed of it, but that just embarrassed him and he hid in his room for the rest of the day.

He warms up to it eventually but only a bit.

Will lay across Persephone’s lap like fuckin Cerberus and do his best to let her tickle him.

His favorite tease is definitely the tickle monster.

“Claws” wiggling towards his tickle spots and coming to attack while his ler (Persephone) coos those stupid little “I’m gonna get you~” teases.

Hades was deprived of all things affectionate and loving for the majority of his childhood, I can’t help but think he’d have a soft spot for the more childish side of tickling.

His laugh is full of snorts and hiccups, and any sort of tickling around his belly will make him lose his mind.

He is rather feather ticklish, which Persephone loves.

Is not opposed to Persephone using vines as… *cough cough* restraints.

Would rather choke than admit it but he usually does need to be pinned down or restrained in some way because it sends him into fight or flight and he cannot control anything he does.

He’s also enormously fuckin tall so it’s safer for Persephone if he’s held down properly.

Tried to gain more control over his reactions and squirming because he elbowed Persephone in the face once. (He begged for her forgiveness and apologized profusely. She laughed and assured him he was fine, but he was literally about to cry he was so upset with himself).

Lighter touches work way better on him.

Likes raspberries and kisses on his belly so much.

Only problem is that he is so wildly ticklish that any tickling will immediately tire him out.

He’s going to wrap himself around Persephone and fall asleep instantly, and she won’t be able to go anywhere until he either wakes up or, by some miracle, moves.

Not tickle related but he’s a clingy sleeper and I live by that.

Mushroom and Big John used to sleep in his bed but he would snuggle them in his sleep and he wouldn’t let them go for hours, so they started sleeping on the floor to escape their father’s cuddly habits.

I think when he starts accepting his lee moods and stops being so ashamed of it, he gets a little whiteboard and an expo marker and draws sad faces on the whiteboard for Persephone to see when he’s a lee mood.

Sometimes he forgets about it and goes about his day, and then when Persephone brings it up, it’s already too late for him.

#tickling #tickle community #sfw tickles #sfw tickling community #AHHHHHH LORE OLYMPUS #Lore Olympus tickle #Lee!Hades #ticklish hades

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