#i love them but their character development TOOK A WHILE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellguarded-moved · 11 months

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SUBJECT: characters most relevant to the lore, be it by importance, how they've shaped and affected the world, or by their relation to ignis. tw: frequent mentions of drugs / narcotics, implied transphobia, implied rape, mentions of body dysmorphia, super long post.

≥ FILE 020: CONQUEST_

given name lucius. codename derived from his true name. the horseman of conquest and pestilence, he is the one that had given birth to the organization known as 'gonchiye.' translated from russian to mean 'hunting dogs,' it is advertised as a supernatural police force of sorts, meant to upkeep the law and balance in the society of non-humans. the truth is much more ominous than this noble goal lucius presents it to the public with.

the gonchiye was built upon the remains of an ancient pit fighter ring, where humans would imprison supernatural beings through the use of binding magic and make them fight for their entertainment. as time consumes all, lucius had eventually only found a sole survivor of it all— and decided to use this one as a test vessel for a new plague he was developing for the inevitable apocalypse, that would be brought for once the time was nigh; lucius is the second oldest of the horsemen, and even though he rode first, he leaves leadership of the group to the eldest, death. he rides upon a white horse, going by the name glory, and his weapons of choice are a bow and arrows.

the truth beyond this organization is that it is the horseman's way of preserving world balance. each of the four horsemen has their own way of going about it, and while some are more questionable than others... in the end, it is for the greater good of the world. or so they say. many, especially mortals, have any sort of understanding to actually comprehend this divine task. for lucius, this means eliminating targets that, in his opinion, endanger this delicate balance, as well as constantly improving. this could mean many things— be it in regards to biological or technological advancements. one could very easily classify the nephilim as a mad scientist, and they wouldn't be wrong.

lucius has an odd quirk in that he never uses abbreviations, verb conjugations, or contractions. his manner of speech is very proper, if not outright snobby. he is by no means a coward, but he is the type to make others do his bidding for him; it's the very reason why he utilizes the hundred of agents ( there are no more than a hundred active agents at any given time ) within the gonchiye to carry out tasks for him. tasks that are masterfully masked so that the true ambition behind them isn't discovered. generally speaking, there is but a handful of people within the organization aware of the truth, and all of those are under tight scrutiny— to the point of being collared with a collar infused with a special serum meant to make these beasts docile and easily compliant with his wishes. it isn't humane.

ignis is one such agent. once, he dared even to call lucius a friend. the two were rather close, due to them being of similiar ages. ignis is also one of the few people able to actually keep up against lucius in a fight. and they did fight. unfortunately, lucius possesses light magic, which is incredibly effective against an infernal like the hellhound— it has left him with an ugly scar across his chest. their friendship ended and relations became tense after ignis' failure with mission 298: to dispatch stormbringer.

with ignis' continual failures to deliver after that incident, he's set an execution order on him.

≥ FILE 057: LINCEI_

given name kalisha. codename derived from the italian accademia dei lincei, named after the lynx whose keen eye is neccessary for scientific research. kalisha is a nekomata of spanish and japanese origins, and was one of the very first members of the gonchiye. unlike most members who had joined voluntarily under the impression that they'd do some good in the world, to the lynx, it was offered as means of vengeance. kalisha harbors a deep hatred for humans from the times hunters had taken her husband and son, and she's never gotten over the loss. due to her then-violent tendencies, she was also one of the first agents to be collared.

the drug worked well, far too well perhaps, as not long after, her aggressive demeanor had mellowed out. a side-effect of this was the very prominent deepening of her voice, leaving it husky and nearly sounding like a chain smoker. once under control, she's been retired from field missions and was instead tasked with helping with the research— something that had allowed her quite the deep insight into the truth of just what lucius was aiming for. with her mind numbed like so, however, she did not have the willpower to do anything about it, other than simply play along.

that has changed once she was introduced to project talonshot. while their interactions were limited for the sake of conditioning naoto into a cold-hearted killer, she did end up doting on him and treating him like her own son. it could never be the same, and not just for the boy being different, but also due to the strict security within the gonchiye walls, she could never be as open with her affection as she could hope for. nevertheless? it gave her some hope and determination in perservering in these conditions.

ignis considers her his closest friend. both of them were early members, though she's never told him the truth about lucius and the things she's learned until much, much later. she believed she was protecting him this way. they had interest in each other at one point and had tried dating, but things never quite worked out, and so they simply stayed on friendly terms. she is someone ignis can talk about just anything, and he knows she has his back, while he has hers. they had numerously teased each other for their tastes in partners, especially once she'd learned that ignis had taken naoto as his lover and mate, but the truth was, she was very happy for them both; and would entrust her son to no one else.

kalisha eventually meets the current warlord of the red oni tribe and decides to stay with them ( or rather, they had rather forcibly kidnapped her from the gonchiye. she didn't resist or complain ) and become their queen as they became lovers and partners.

≥ FILE 094: NIHIL_

given name noctis. codename derived from his umbrakinesis and the ability to create black holes. about 500 years younger than his half-brother, he harbors immense jealousy towards ignis and has set out along with his cousin, eryx, to earth to seek him out and hopefully drag him back to their home in the underworld. was it selfish? certainly. did that stop them? no. noctis used to be rather clingy towards his older brother as a child, so seeing him run away from home like so was incredibly traumatizing; he practically idolized the hound.

contrary to his half-brother, who is the result of a hellhound and an erinye, noctis is a pureblooded erinye. he is rather apathetic and laughs at the misfortune of others. he is mean, but not neccessarily evil. his magic can be destructive and he can be rather ruthless in a fight. such talents had earned him the position of a saboteur; but not without a collar.

noctis is a trans man, but lucius knew that he possesses female biology, and took advantage of it. his genes were forcibly used in the creation of project talonslash, which has left the erinye with deep mental scars. he'd never felt insecure about his body until that very moment that someone abused it like so. as a result, he's come to loathe talon, even if the boy himself hadn't done anything wrong. long since losing ignis again after his exodus from the gonchiye did he not want to stay anymore, but getting out was never easy. this, though? this was the last straw.

≥ FILE 273: HELIOS_

given name sirius. codename derived from his title, 'the sun of the underworld.' sirius is the current hound of hades, something of a king of the hellhounds, inhering the title of cerberus that goes with it. such tradition is something ignis is aware of, therefore his bitterness about lucius choosing to designate the codename cerberus to him within the gonchiye.

sirius had an affair with tisiphone, an affair from which his ( currently ) only son was born. a bastard perhaps, but he still wished for him to take up the mantle of cerberus once it was time. unfortunately, tisiphone didn't agree with this; she wanted the child for herself, or at least, to have him make whatever choices he wished to later in life. fiercely protective, she hid herself and baby ignis within erebus, the shadowy pocket dimension of the underworld, only accessible to the erinyes and a few others. ignis did take after this fiery desire to be independent, maybe a bit too much, and yet, he felt like his mother was smothering him; not allowing him to leave erebus until... until what? he didn't know, and she never gave him the answer. eventually, he heard the call of hades; a call every hellhound must answer. one that only they hear, and cannot resist. under the influence of the call, he managed to break free of erebus.

that was the first time he and sirius met, some three hundred years since ignis' birth. perhaps a bit too enthusiastic to meet his son, sirius was quick to introduce ignis to just about everything that was to be expected out of him— once, they might have even ended up on good terms. but feeling that his father, too, wished to force his dreams and ideals onto him, ignis came to resent his father more than he did his mother. he swore to never become the next cerberus, or have anything to do with sirius at all. he avoided him like the plague.

sirius is an outgoing, charismatic, yet arrogant individual. he and ignis are quite alike, in both looks and personality, much to his dismay. nowadays, sirius realizes he might've been a little too pushy with ignis, and he regrets it greatly, as he would have loved to be on good terms with his son... he still hopes for as much, even if the rational part of him knows that will likely never happen.

another custom for the hound of hades is to take up two mates, so as to represent the other two heads of cerberus. sirius, dutiful as he is, eventually enters an arranged mateship with xolotl and tiangou, two guardian hellhounds from different cultures, later accepting the names of sol and luna, the sun and moon to sirius' star. this mateship is especially important in these trying times, where the guardian breed is near its extinction— sol is expected to carry the pups of both luna and sirius. this polyamory is yet another parallel between father and son, but ignis remains unaware of this so far.

≥ FILE 298: STORMBRINGER_

given name shinjou. codename derived from his ability to control lightning. this kitsune was the unfortunate patient zero as the sole survivor of the earlier-mentioned beast pit fight business. he was unaware of this predicament until much, much later, that this sickness had started to show itself. at first, it was simple nausea, then it turned into something akin to tuberculosis, and eventually, his very body had started to change.

shinjou is incredibly technically skilled, something of a mad scientist himself to rival lucius, but where lucius seeks the biological, shinjou is more interested in the mechanical. while being the head of a yakuza group called 'the order of the lotus,' in honor of his deceased father, he also owns a cybernetics company that specializes in highly advanced body implants and prosthetics. his twin brother had once lost an entire arm in a fight with a red oni ( this same oni had later also targeted shinjou and took his eye, leaving the fox blind in one eye ), and he was more than eager to provide for his brother with the technology he's developed. later in life he even attempts to build an adroid from scratch.

besides technology, shinjou is also a skilled sniper and hacker, on top of being a very influential person in kyoto— and slowly, all of japan, though for all the wrong reasons. the order had become feared, and its influence had even changed the widely-accepted meaning and symbolism of the lotus flower— where it once was a symbol of purity and rebirth, it is now something to be feared. shinjou experienced many hardships in his life, starting since childhood where he was exiled from the kitsune clan he lived in, for being born a twin, as twins were considered a bad omen. only one of the brothers was allowed to stay, and shinjou wasn't it— he never harbored any ill will against his parents or his brother for making that choice, however, only the clan elders. the twins were separated for most of their life before reuniting.

it only went downhill from there. getting caught and imprisoned within the fighting ring, which then cost his father's life, then getting used as a guinea pig, and even once he'd gotten out of all of that? he was adopted by a yakuza oyabun, who then taught him all that shinjou currently knows in regards to that kind of life. once the man had passed and shinjou took over, he renamed the group to honor his late father, and made it to be the most fearsome group kyoto had to ever deal with. all the misfortunes and abuse led to shinjou closing off his heart to love; and that was where ignis came into play, who'd, despite his own hardships, managed to stay soft and tender.

ignis was originally deployed as a long-time infiltrator agent into the order of the lotus, as per lucius' orders to learn all that there was, and then take him out before the plague had time to spread. this had gone on for twelve years, during which the hound, expectably so if you know anything about him, had developed romantic feelings for shinjou. he failed at pulling the trigger at the end, but shinjou still learned about the truth behind ignis' presence within the order— he was incredibly hurt by his betrayal, given just how much loyalty means to the fox. so much, that he insists every members gets a lotus tattoo ( hand for regular members, the neck for high ranked members ) to show their loyalty. and that's exactly what ignis did, and the fact that he bore the mark of the lotus and still stabbed him in the back like so? was something that broke the fox. one might have thought there was still some hope for salvation for him, but since then, he'd become unreasonably cold and cruel. he was letting no one close to him, ever again. even if later he'd found someone whom he calls a mate, a woman called abigail medusa, even with her the relationship is incredibly unstable and full of vitriol.

however, he still had to thank ignis. thank him for this opportunity to actually learn about the gonchiye, lucius, and the truth behind his undiagnosable illness. this meant war.

≥ FILE 309: TALONSLASH_

no given name. or? 'talonslash,' eventually simply referred to as 'talon' by his fellow agents for simplicity's sake ( despite lucius' disdain ) was purposefully left nameless upon his creation. project talonslash was meant to be the successor to project talonshot, which was, after ignis' influence and tampering, deemed a failure. the codename itself was derived from the mother project talon, plus a contrasting word to the original shot, as the birds were specialized as snipers.

talon is a very particular kind of a genetic experiment, as his dna consists of that of a tengu, falcon, and an erinye. noctis, to be specific. it was an ugly memory. this was made so that they could force his body into becoming resistant to physical stress, as that was deemed as one of talonshot's greatest weaknesses. they couldn't possibly make a durable bird assassin if they wanted him to remain swift and agile, and so, they went with the route that would make talon's body dissolve into shadows whenever exposed to immense physical trauma. therefore, it is incredibly difficult to actually wound him— if you manage to catch him in the first place. he struggles to actually control this side of himself, and everytime he is forced to dissolve like so, it leaves him feeling besides himself, in a nearly dissociative-like state.

his purpose, much like his predecestor's, is to be a living weapon. cold and heartless when taking the lives of his targets, and highly efficent at doing so. he is incredibly skilled with firearms as well as small hand weapons, such as knives. he also had extensive close quarters combat training, and while he excelled at it, it remains not his forte. talon much more prefers to pick his enemies off one by one from a safe distance, unseen. besides that, being agile as he is, usually leads to a more hit-and-run technique of fighting, plus he never properly learned how to handle and counter blows, due to how his body reacts to such assault. but given just what a dreadful feeling having to turn into a shadow leaves him in, he prefers to simply avoid getting hit altogether if he can help it.

despite his lack of identity and the ease at which he kills, he is a surprisingly bubbly and carefree character, if not a bit silly. naturally, he was allowed very little socializing and given even less affection while growing up, and while that had turned talonshot into the apathetic man that he is today, it seemed to have the very opposite effect on talonslash, leaving him childish and very eager to please. the primary person he seeks validation from is talonshot, whom he considers his older brother, even if their actual relation between them is a lot more complex. too bad he hadn't seen him for the majority of his life— only heard about him in stories, constantly compared to, and told just what kind of image he needed to live up to, and then subsequently surpass.

eventually, he was given the name hayato by none other than his brother upon finally meeting. as it is rather new to him, sometimes he still struggles to actually react to it should someone call him that— while he will always, without fail, respond to talon.

talon himself isn't incredibly important to ignis, rather he is important to his husband, naoto, and the one originally dubbed 'project talonshot.' their meeting and further interaction together was important for the development of them both; helping to find themselves among the scraps that the gonchiye had left them in.

honorable mentions, aka characters not played by me ( but @hellhunted ), but still very important:

≥ FILE 093: ORTHRUS_

given name eryx. codename derived from the mythological brother of cerberus, which was the designation assigned to ignis, due to the brother-like relation between the two. eryx joined the gonchiye together with noctis, hence their numbers following one another's. lucius was quite eager to have another hellhound at his disposal thanks to their unique ability of phasewalking.

eryx is a very... airheaded individual. a lot of things go over his head, but his heart is in the right place. he never truly saw the gonchiye for what it was; he and noctis only joined it as means of getting ignis back. eryx was collared nearly right from the start as precautionary measure, as lucius did not want to take any possible risks, having witnessed what troubles the elder hound could, and had, caused him.

ignis was something of an older brother to eryx while they were growing up together in the underworld. but where ignis ached to escape it, eryx wished to remain home. in his selfish desire for as much, ignis had abandoned the younger hound without a word on numerous ocassions. he feels great guilt about this all, but it just never seems like a good time to actually stop and tell him— and his cowardice prevents him from actually ever seeking him out and properly apologize. what kindship they had, is slowly dying out.

≥ FILE 308: TALONSHOT_

given name naoto. codename derived from the mother project talon, plus the word shot to signify his specialization as a sniper. talonshot was lucius' first attempt at dna splicing to create a perfect being with the exact kind of traits he desired. it was... mostly a success. naoto was intelligent and effective, and excelled at everything they put him to, which really mostly just involved assassinations with no feelings attached— something he noticed a lot of his agents often struggled with. to separate their duty from their emotions. ignis especially. but what was especially important and unique about naoto? was that, since he was just the first prototype at this kind of bioengineering for the future, he was also made disposable. 'talonshot' had an expiration date.

talonshot's purpose was to take care of the most important mission lucius had once entrusted ignis with— nowadays he really wonders just why he'd ever trusted that sap with something like this —to take out stormbringer. not only was naoto then succumbed to years of intense training to make sure he was ready for that encounter, his blood was also, since birth, infused with the antibody to the horseman's plague. he was meant to contain the plague, to get rid of the first specimen who wasn't meant to escape, before it started to spread prematurely, before the world was ready for the apocalypse. a clean state for the world was neccessary, but the time had to be right.

however, ignis was still the only person who had the most experience with stormbringer and as such, he was assigned as naoto's handler once he was out of initial basic care and training. they were still sent out on numerous other missions in gonchiye's name, but the long-term goal was to make sure that talonshot knew how to properly employ all that he'd learned against his main target.

you cannot teach new tricks to an old dog though, so long story short, the two ended up falling in love. it was true that at first, ignis despised naoto and all that he was meant to represent, but more importantly— he despised just how all the higher-ups were treating him. like he wasn't a living, breathing being. it took years upon years to make naoto believe that that was who he was; his true name, and not 'talonshot.' ignis strongly believed that he could be an efficent killer if that was who he wished to be, but he didn't need to completely forego his identity for it— and so, the many years of secret relationship were also a lot about helping naoto discover who he was behind all the guns and bullets.

they eventually made it to japan again, fully determined to see talonshot's mission to completion, only for the kitsune to prove a much deadlier foe than either of them had anticipated. ignis' direct orders were to not interfere, to let naoto handle it himself. but once he saw his boyfriend, his mate, nearly on death's door? he didn't hesitate. he'd saved him, paid a heavy price for it as he'd transformed into his true form to do so, and in the end, he still left the fox to live. his mate was alive, but he'd effectivelly ruined all he was working to achieve. enough said that naoto was furious at him— and so was lucius, which eventually led to him marking ignis as a traitor, and a kill order was issued on the hound.

naoto eventually forgave ignis, in fact, he'd eventually even proposed to the hound— the first man to ever do so, no less —and once he was chased out of the gonchiye, he followed after him. they've been on the run ever since, trying for some measure of a normal life, only to be crossed by the more loyal gonchiye agents on a handful of ocassions— until they met rashida and her resistance.

≥ FILE 388: SERQET_

given name rashida. codename derived from the goddess that she was a priestess of in her human life. the first human ignis had ever come into contact upon earth; and also his first ( and, romantically enough, also last ) lover and mate. she was the one to teach him about humanity with a hands-on approach, she was the one to teach him the first human language ( ancient egyptian ) and how to live like a human. due to an injury acquired from his less-than-graceful escape from the underworld, ignis was stuck in his demon form for a good while before recovering, making that a little troublesome; the locals had come to believe that he was an avatar of anubis coming to bless them. once discovered a fraud, both him and rashida were chased out of the temple.

since rashida had shown him her own home, ignis suggested they visit greece; his home on the mortal plane. it was there, closer to the magic of the gods, that he managed to mend the damaged mortal seal and take on a proper human guise. they'd been separated on numerous accounts, oftentimes by means outside either of their's powers, and yet each time, they found their way back to one another. one time she'd died, not long after ignis was recalled back to the underworld against his own will upon hearing the call of hades once again ( as it was louder within greece— for that reason, he now avoids the country ), as many mortal human would, which was something ignis should have expected... and he did, and yet? he couldn't accept it. especially because it wasn't death by natural means. he came to beg persephone to have her resurrected— such a selfish wish of a selfish lover, not at all caring about the consequences it might have had on her. the goddess told him as much, but he wouldn't take no for an answer; eventually tasked to find her soul that had passed on so that she could protect it personally for the times to come, while the spring deity worked with the egyptian goddess serqet to help restore the woman's body.

it... proved problematic, naturally. suddenly inhabiting a soulless vessel, turned into a demon like so, and all for the canine's selfishness and inability to let go. he was warned, but he was willing to face it head on, and was given another hundred years together with her— to help her learn about herself, her new body, her new demonic abilities. it was rough, as the reborn demoness despised herself for being this way, that ignis had done this to her... it took a long time of learning and self-reflection for rashida to accept both herself and him, before... ignis was called back once again, now that his hundred years were up. not that he was willing to stay, but another escape proved more problematic than the last, far too much to actually still be able to find his lover where he'd unwillingly left her on earth. since then? he hasn't seen her again... not for another two thousand years.

due to her own traumas of being reincarnated and forcibly turned into a demon ( and therefore stripped of her soul ) found the drive to fight against the gonchiye and the horsemen, to protect the humanity. even if she didn't possess her own anymore, she still holds humans dear to her heart, and simply couldn't accept what the horseman was doing. she, and many others outside the system, had discovered the truth, and a lot of it was thanks to all the wrenches ignis and naoto had thrown into lucius' plans. an alliance between mortals and immortals was formed, and came to known as the resistance against the coming apocalypse; though more importantly, against all the inhume methods the horseman of conquest is employing to upkeep his precious balance. lucius still insists these puny beings cannot understand the neccessity and importance of a world reset, and so, these two factions are now at war.

these were the two thousand years that had passed, until she's met ignis again— though this time, now a married man. it hurt her heart, certainly, as did the hound's, given just how awful and guilty he felt for all the pain and trouble he put rashida through. nevertheless, she offered the two of them shelter from the gonchiye, after having learned that they were hunted by them— and not long after, even naoto had started to warm up to the demoness. they're all now happily together in a polyamorous marriage.

≥ FILE 523: EMPRESS_

given name persephone. codename derived from her sovereign status to match with her husband, hades, the 'emperor.' persephone was something of an anchor to ignis while he was chained in the underworld. she provided him with light, both literally and figuratively, and with stories of earth— one might even blame her for the yearning he's come to feel for it. he's even come to develop a crush on her but of course, such feelings were not reciprocated. nevertheless, she was the one to bless him with the mortal seal upon his shoulder, that allowed him to appear human and walk freely on earth.

#// WHOOPS THIS TOOK A LOT LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BECAUSE I WROTE A LOT LOT #// this is like actually SUPER LONG but if u read it all i'll love you forever because LORE #// also sneaky promo before it's Properly ready but you can now find these characters and more #// to be interacted with on my sideblog @hellwrought #// i decided to NOT add hades and tisiphone to this particular list right now because. while they certainly are important and influential?#// i don't have a lot to say about them besides just. 'this is his rightful master and his mother' gdfkgkf #// sirius at least or maybe unfortunately so is a lot more developed muse than both hades and tisiphone so i chose to include him because #// he do be working hard on his own duty #// help me though turns out i have no general hc tag???? gkjgkjf #// well.#lore.#notes. ( “CERBERUS” );#notes. ( “CONQUEST” );#notes. ( “LINCEI” );#notes. ( “NIHIL” );#notes. ( “HELIOS” );#notes. ( “STORMBRINGER” );#notes. ( “TALONSLASH” );

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moon-and-stars-selfship · 10 months

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HI! I would love to hear about your ff7 ships and SIs 🥺I have two SIs and faves myself (Rufus and Reno fjdhafskj) and am getting super hype about Rebirth hehe :D also maybe our SIs can be friends~

@goldenworldsabound

First of all great taste all around, I absolutely adore them and think they got great treatment with the rebuild! Anyway, I'm still working on my SIs (story of my life but I'm working on it , I promise) but I can spill what I've got so far.

My self-insert is a mechanic class (turrets, explosives, the works) who is part of Avalanche and works alongside the crew. I go along with them for the entire story of FFVII and on top of being madly in love with both of them I'm a dedicated part of the fight to save the planet.

(Very) Brief character summary? Done. Okay. Now for the full thing.

Story time: For Cloud and Tifa I'm going with the classic "teenage friends" route. I didn't know Cloud for nearly as long as he left to join Soldier only a few years later, but I knew what they had was special and had long suspected they would become an item. I stayed in Nibelheim and remained friends with Tifa for years but wound up leaving before The Event. After hearing about the cities destruction I assumed her dead since, supposedly, there were no survivors. I eventually made my way to Midgar. I got by doing odd jobs and eventually I realized how good I was at tinkering and developed a knack for repair/mechanical work. Eventually I heard about the Seventh Heaven and the owner who, by all descriptions, sounded familiar. I made my way to the bar and had a heartwarming reunion and caught up on everything that had transpired, the horror of what happened after her rescue, our respective lives struggling in Midgar, etc. It didn't take much convincing for me to stay, nor for me to join up with Avalanche (especially after hearing Barret talking about mako and the planet dying). I put my mechanical skills to work for the cause, but the more time I spent with them the more I realized I had budding feelings for Tifa. I didn't want to risk what we had so I didn't bring it up but couldn't bear the idea of being separated again.

When Cloud joined up with Avalanche and I realized that, though it was difficult for either of them at first, the feelings were still there somewhere. I backed off, not wanting to get in the way and, being honest with myself, felt something much more that excitement to see Cloud again. Even though I tried to suppress my feelings, and even though I was genuinely happy the two had each other again, I felt myself yearning. It didn't take long to figure out it wasn't just for Tifa and I was...confused. Being in deep for two people, especially ones that I felt deserved each other, was tearing me in half. Still, I hid it both out of not wanting to get between them and because I wanted, more than anything, just to be a part of their lives. I didn't need either of their love as long as I could have both of them in my life.

I still haven't finished FFVII completely so I'm working on the details as I go

Near the end of Meteorfall things came to the surface. Cloud was moody, well, moodier than usual and quieter than he hand been, and Tifa and I were worried. We took some time alone, talked, and we both told each other that we had to admit something: we both admitted that we were in love with Cloud. I don't really know which one of us started crying first, but it was tears of relief from both of us. I didn't know how to explain it wasn't just him but I know she was oddly happy when I said that she deserved him and I wanted more than anything for both of them to be happy. She smiled, it seemed strange, but she made me promise to be there when she confessed to him.

The next night it happened. He was alone on the deck of the Highwind, the stars were out, and we approached him. I expected a tender moment where I smiled for both of them and let them have some time alone, but she said that she had something to say: that we both loved him. She laughed at me stammering with a red face, but when Cloud came up and hugged us both I couldn't help it. I just told them. I was crying and squeezing them, hoping more than everything that wouldn't be the last time I held them, but when Cloud squeezed me back I actively started sobbing. When he pulled back and said that both of us meant more than anything to him, he turned to Tifa and asked her what she thought. "Well, I can't imagine letting only you have him, or letting only you have him,considering I can't imagine me without both of you...If you think it would work." Considering I want to leave things just a little vague for what happens after that, I just imagine all three of us sitting on the Highwind, watching the sunrise, holding hands. Curtain, close scene.

Ahhhh I would love that but I think his "background" might make them friendly rivals. I'd like to see what you think! >:3c

#I really made that into a story didn't I #Thank you for the ask!#I really appreciate it; asks help me develop my characters/motivate me #I would love for them to be friends if they can look past their “differences”!#Also I haven't the slightest clue to start for Sephiroth even though HNNNNNNGGGGGHHHH #answers #goldenworldsabound #sorry it took a while to respond!#Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul #<--poly-ship name

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lorenlily · 2 years

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Please expound on your love of Rory Williams

first of all thank you so much for sending me an ask I saw this when I woke up and screamed!! it took a while to answer because I was spiralling

*sigh* rory williams my beloved where do I start

he's just so human I want to squish his cheeks, my softest boy and then other times I just cry because he reminds me a lot of myself especially in the context of him 'third wheeling' the doctor and amy, just that situation where you meet someone because of your friend (fiancee/wife in his case) and you know without this person (amy) you know the other friend (the doctor) wouldn't give you the time of day, you'd just go unnoticed by them and when it's you and your friend (rory/amy) things are easy going but when it you and the other friend alone (rory/doctor) it's just awkward

and for all that rory goes unnoticed, he's actually incredibly observational and that makes him so smart and also puts him in danger, I mean he got taken by the angel because everyone else was celebrating talking about painting the tardis and they all walked past that grave but when he walked past it he noticed it he noticed his name he 'died' being observational

he see's everything from an outsider's perspective which is totally not how I feel I go about through life and because of that he calls the doctor out saying you don't know how much people want to impress you and how dangerous that makes you!!! I loved this scene so much because that's actually such a core value (the intention behind it is upto debate) of the doctor and how he interacts with others and rory can see through that because he's got this outsider's perspective, he very much is like the audience watching everything unfold most of the time instead of being in the scene with them

and the way he loves!! I know amy has the title of girl who waited eventhough she waited less time compared to rory, once for the doctor and then the doctor and rory, but I get it she was human while she was waiting and there's that mortality aspect that makes it mean a lot as when rory waited 2000 years he was plastic, so I get why she has that title and rory is given the last centurion but let's appreciate that he's also the boy who waited!! and what really gets me is that he didn't need to, the doctor could have taken them which a click of a button to the future and pandora's box it's built as a prison so you can't get out she wasn't in as much danger as one would think but he doesn't care he wants to be by her side always for 2000 years protecting her!!!

and I know how little self belief he has in himself that he never thought he was the beautiful man that amy is in love but when you think you love someone more than they love you wouldn't that change your perception of them and in turn make you feel less love for them? maybe but rory has pure unconditional love, it's not based on the condition that the other person will love you back! and he doesn't fault amy for it, she's never had to quieten down for him she can be herself even when it's flirty, everyone can be themselves around him he doesn't make anyone feel small, there's the moment in god complex when the doctor realises it's faith the minotaur is after and it's amy's faith in him that brought them there and both of them awkwardly shift to look at rory but he looks away and then he just asks the logical questions about what to do, he lets then have their space to figure things out even when the doctor admits to amy what rory has always said about him that he just wanted to impress someone he's vain, but rory also see's past that when it comes to the doctor and lets him have those moments with amy and other people to just be impressive to them because he doesn't think it comes from any bad intentions, like all those moments where he's near death's door because of travelling with the doctor you'd think he'd be full of resentment but he isn't!

and the girl who waited episode, the future amy that's still his amy even if she's old he's doesn't care about that he cares that he didn't get to spend time with her and even though present amy is safe in the tardis now he still goes to older amy because she's his amy too! he doesn't care about past present future, time travel logic and laws that might make the doctor feel better he just wants to be with amy and give her comfort!!

he's so calm and logical and when you think about those types of characters or people you'd think their calmness would come from rejection of emotions, from being cold but he's not that he's warm and emotional and kind and considerate and compassionate and I think if you take all the 'good' things that people interpret about the doctor like the kindness and compassion and isolate them you'd get rory williams

#doctor who #rory williams #i saw a post that once asked who do you think is worthy of mjnoir #RORY WILLIAMS IS WORTHY!#i love his character so much #and don't take this to mean that i dont love amy or the doctor i love them both so much #amy gave me so much confidence i love her #and i love the development of amy and rorys relationship 😭#anon this took me a while because i was just spiralling #i just want to know what they're up to now living their life #can't we have an episode where a future version of the doctor sees them like a cameo #donnas coming back i want to see amy and rory back too #asks #nonnie :)#what becomes of curious minds*

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forallthepjostuff · 2 years

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Hey! I've noticed you reblogging chapters one and two of my Covered in Storms, Surrounded by Eyes fic! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it, but I wanted to let you know that I am in the process of rewriting it on ao3. There's the link, I'd appreciate it if you checked it out, because I think my writing has improved in terms of characterization and pretty much all around. Again, tysm for taking interest in this fic, it's one of my favorites and I'm excited for the directions it will take in the future.

Hi!

It's already in my bookmarks on ao3 😅 I came across it on there first, and then got excited when I saw that it was a rewrite and that the first few chapters from before you rewrote it were still up, because I love seeing how people's writing style develop and gets more unique over time. I've never seen a fic like it, I've seen ones where another god or goddess claims Percy, but never one where that goddess is Kymopoleia, and I'm really excited to see where it goes.

Also, I like all the ocs you're adding to it. I know liking someone adding ocs in a fanfiction might not be the most popular thing in the world, but you're doing it in a way that adds to the story; to me it's really making Camp Half-Blood seem like a more grounded place, like it's real, with real people who have real personalities, instead of just a setting with extras, which is how I've felt a lot while reading fanfiction.

I might not be 100% explaining this correctly, but it kind of reminds me of how in my small town (3,000 people), everyone knows everyone else's stories, either by hearing it themselves or through whispered gossip. And how sometimes they're nice, but can flip on you in a second if something they perceive as the wrong information comes to light.

Also, I really love how everyone's mentioning stuff that, as the reader, you have no idea about. Because we're going on that learning curve with Percy and finding these things out at the same time as him, it reminds me of how when you're young in a family and no one tells you any family drama stories, because they see no need to or you were too young and nobody mentions it anymore, so once in a while they kinda just offhandedly make a comment about the craziest batshit stories and it's up to you to just go 'hey a crumb of context please?'

So, yeah. I'm really, really interested in seeing the direction it goes in.

#it's a good thing i decided to check my email #because i was practically so deep in your tumblr page that i 100% would've and have before kept looking through it all night #/joke. but also not really #seriously though i'm really excited to see what you decide to do with it because i really love it #tbh it's probably already up there with fishing in alaska by caffeinatedflumadiddle as one of my favorite pjo stories #also sorry for just kind of rambling here but i really am excited to about this story #i know this kind of became jumbled nonsense near the end but that's because this is a great story #and trying to put all my thoughts about it into words isn't working bc my thoughts are kind of just jumbled nonsense too right now #my brain's literally working too fast for words when it comes to everything i like about this story--the one on here and the rewrite on ao3 #because i feel like the one on here focuses more on the ocs development but that the rewrite definitely focuses more on the plot #love the more detail and plot centered writing on there by the way #it gives the story more depth and explains the situations better while still having the character development #and still having that sense of drilling 'these big three kids are dangerous and that's why we're afraid of them' into your head #while also making you realize why all the campers are so biased against big three kids and hate them but also panic at the thought of them #i absolutely have more that i can't think of right now because i type so slow i lose the thought before i can make it into words #...bet when you sent this ask you didn't expect to get a fucking behemoth that took an hour and a half to type did you #hope you like it anyway #also i recently experienced a moment like the one in the last paragraph #where my niece (six years younger than me) was complaining about how there's no drama in our family & i got to go 'oh? haven't you heard?'#it was really fun actually #and satisfying to do after being on the recieving end for so many years

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hyunverse · 1 month

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wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday.

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight.

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence.

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show.

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.”

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes.

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl.

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl.

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it.

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you.

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him.

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose.

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend.

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought.

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!”

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour.

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.”

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time.

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?”

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly.

“You’re my best friend in the world!”

Hyunjin felt like he could die.

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red.

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet.

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!”

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said.

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?”

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.”

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red.

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap.

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb.

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories.

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.”

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you?

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly.

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.

Don’t be a coward.

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage.

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you.

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could.

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could.

Okay, step number one failed.

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin.

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.”

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him.

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff.

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell.

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.”

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked.

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered.

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?”

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin.

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue.

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head.

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after.

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger.

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next.

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper.

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over.

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.”

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you.

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are.

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now?

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.”

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug.

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself.

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.”

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more.

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall.

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.”

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.”

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts.

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead.

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck.

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need.

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now?

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away.

five.

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field.

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would.

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat.

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?”

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.”

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side.

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back.

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it.

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!”

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink.

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense.

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in.

You were as pretty as the flowers.

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you.

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness.

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms.

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.”

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal.

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.”

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then.

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!”

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never.

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo.

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever.

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience.

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him.

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his.

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now.

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too.

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey?

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours.

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway.

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face.

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things?

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about.

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks.

“See you soon?” you mumbled.

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way.

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face.

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you.

seven.

One day before your birthday.

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.”

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all.

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say.

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there?

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze.

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room.

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears.

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth.

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty.

All traces of Hyunjin were gone.

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal.

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.”

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along.

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart.

Your best friend was truly gone.

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.”

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn.

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter.

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more.

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay.

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse.

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight.

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip.

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath.

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time.

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do.

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him?

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over.

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you.

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear.

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more.

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment.

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five.

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time.

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you.

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.

There are five stages of grief.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things.

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them.

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it.

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries.

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!”

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip.

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking.

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin.

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man.

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap.

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back.

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it.

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty.

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin.

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia.

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized.

It was a fragment of your memory.

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved.

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face?

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display.

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece.

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy.

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible.

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch.

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears.

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up.

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other.

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.”

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love.

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises.

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot.

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession.

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that.

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear.

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled.

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well.

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint.

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over.

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend.

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one.

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body.

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body.

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs.

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago.

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything.

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed.

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment.

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again.

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine.

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper.

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak.

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way.

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

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selfishdoll · 7 months

Text

NOW PLAYING…. FANTASIZE

I know what you fantasize about

TAKUMA INO x SUCCUBUS! READER.

sum: ino, desperate to feel the touch of a woman, seeks out alternative options. which includes, summoning a demon into his house.

cw: ooc characters, modern au (no cursed techniques), lowkey loser ino (i love him), virgin!ino, switch (both of you), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl, praise, pussy-drunk ino, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (on both sides), demons, demon rituals, angst if you squint, porn no plot, chubby reader, gojo is a bit of a dick, etc.

it was so funny looking up rituals for summoning a succubus, i know the person watching my phone activity is concerned. also, does this count for kinktober? idk i’m new around here. but i got this idea while working so…:) hope you enjoy. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

Takuma Ino was having a bit of dilemma. It wasn’t anything serious like a sickness or losing his home, rather— it was actually quite silly.

He has never, in his twenty-one years of living, made love to a woman. Or anyone for that matter.

Now he’s been on dates before. Has flirted with woman, hell; even kissed a few. But, it never went farther then that. He wasn’t sure why, it ate him up inside that he didn’t have such experience like his seniors Gojo and Geto, even Nanami. And as much as he’d like to find the root of the problem, Ino refused to ask any of them for some perspective.

The thought alone made him want to curl into a ball and die.

But him being inexperienced wasn’t a secret, given Satoru teased him on it constantly. Much to the younger man’s dismay.

Things really took a turn one night, however, when Gojo said something a little off-putting.

At this point, you should just summon a succubus.

The statement was quickly overshadowed by Geto stating the white-haired male was being rude, along with Nanami agreeing. But in that moment, Takuma Ino wasn’t focused on Gojo’s lack of manners, rather; his mind swarmed with that idea.

Was it possible? Were such creatures real? Could he really summon one?

Ino was desperate. He felt something was lacking inside of him having no experience and all. So, just the thought of a solution like this.. well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

Which brings him to tonight, the man seated crisscrossed on his bedroom floor; staring down at the pentagram and candles in the middle of the room. He had spent hours before searching the web for summons, deciding on a relatively easy one. Drawing the pentagram took much more time then he wanted it to, along with placing the candles down. It was currently dark out, the moon shining into his already lit bedroom.

Ino pursed his lips, a bout of anxiety developing in the pit of his stomach. What if, he messed it up somehow? The thought of dealing with something worse then a succubus scared him much more than never having sex. However, another thought plagued him..

What if it didn’t work? Was it really worth wasting time on some stupid comment Gojo made?

It took a moment for Ino to decide his next choice of action, leaning on his crossed legs as an exasperated sigh escaped him. Moments of silence passed before he rose up, a small fuck it, escaping him. Leaning against his bed, the man glanced at his phone, reading through the remaining steps quickly.

“Okay, blood.. then chant.” Ino gulped softly. Settling his phone back beside him, he reached for the pocket knife off to the side. Flipping it open, he placed the blade against his palm, squeezing the handle of the small weapon. His breathing got heavy for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth— glaring down at his hand. Quickly, Takuma slid the blade across his skin, a sharp hissing escaping him once the wound started to sting. He watched as scarlet red blood slowly bubbled from the cut, breath hitching as the sight.

Ino breathed, lifting his hand over the pentagram and rose petals in the middle; watching droplets of blood slowly fall from his hand, into the pile. His lips moved, softly chanting the spell he had found on the internet, dark eyes glaring at the ritual.

The chant escaped his mouth five more times before he stopped, resting their silently for a moment. Waiting for.. anything, really. A signal, a sign the ritual had worked. That his desperation wasn’t all for not..

That he hadn’t cut his palm for some odd fantasy.

Unfortunately, nothing happened. Nothing, except for the sting of his hand and the one of his dignity. He was such an idiot— taking Gojo’s word at face value instead of as a joke.

Takuma Ino, felt pathetic.

Silently, he pulled his hand back, ignoring the sting of it as he began to collected the dirtied petals. He moved to blow out the candles next, collecting them as well to throw away. Once that was completely he exited his bedroom to his bathroom, coming back with a wet rag shortly after to rub away the pentagram.

Still silent, still completely mad at himself.

That was about five hours ago, Takuma deciding to push the event to the back of his mind and sleep. He couldn’t dwell over his stupidity for too long, he had work in the morning.

Curled up under his blankets, the man slept soundly, face pressed into his pillow. The room was quiet, atmosphere soft, his legs, heavy… heavy. Why were his legs so heavy? The half-asleep man turned, pulling his blankets a bit, thinking it was simply that.

But, no. Ino quickly realized it wasn’t that. Sleep was slowly drifting away, annoyance traveling into his body. Did he accidentally place something on his bed? Did something fall? Such question entered his mind, blinking away sleep as he turned— shutting his bedside lamp on.

Takuma Ino blinked slowly, eyes peering down at.. something, someone. A woman. She was, pretty. Cloaked in warm mocha skin, a form figure will full hips and curves; pudge pushed against the blankets underneath her. Her hair was neat, styled in long braids that rested in curly ends just below her ass.

And from what Takuma could see, she was completely bare.

“Wh—what..” The man stuttered under his breath, slowly pulling his legs from under her body, backing to the headboard of his bed. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached over, planting a hand onto her shoulder. “Hey.. uh— miss?” He spoke, watching her stir just a bit. To his horror she turned from laying on her stomach, Ino quickly tossing his blanket in her direction. “Miss— its time to wake up!” Ino spoke again, voice holding much more urgency then it did before.

You slowly stirred from your sleep, blinking and yawning softly. You tilted your head to spot Ino already staring at you, a look of shock and nervousness painting his features. You only smiled, turning once again to rise up on your hands. “Hi..”

Ino gulped the moment your voice hit his ears, range a sickeningly sweet tone, soft; traveling into his mind so easily. He bit his cheek, clenching his pants in his hands. “How did you..get in here? Are you lost?”

You blinked at him for a moment, coming to sit comfortably on the bed, nearly smiling at the way he refused to look at you. Or rather, your body. “I’m not lost.. you summoned me here, right?”

As the words left your mouth, his breath hitched; eyes widening in shock. The ritual, actually worked? He had really summoned one, a succubus? There was no way, this had to be a prank.

“You look human.”

“I look how you want me to look..” You spoke softly, leaning back, sliding your hands down your body. “Or rather, your type.” You grinned, watching a warm red spread across his cheeks. You leaned, crawling up to him until you were far too close for comfort; watching as he sunk into the headboard to gain some space. “But, would you like me to change? Is there something else you wish to see?”

Ino breathed heavily, eyes finally falling from your face and to your body; trained on your soft plump breasts, your thighs, your hips.. everything was just so, perfect. Change? Such a thought would never pass his mind.

His trance was interrupted the moment a pretty giggle escaped you, his entire body stilling the moment your hand rested upon his lower stomach. You pushed up until your mouth was against his ear, speaking lowly;

“Looks like your body answer the question for you..” He hissed softly as your hand breached his black tshirt, gliding your fingers along his vline. You were so close, yet so far from he really wanted you to touch him; his head leaning back as you continued to rub gentle circles into his skin.

“Please..”

“Hm?” You feigned innocence, pulling back to glance at his face. His eyebrows were pinched a little close, eyes closed as he gently bit his lips. The sight was very pretty, you had to admit. “You want me to touch you more?”

“Yes—“ Ino spoke far too quickly, raising his head to look at you. His cheeks were flushed with red, embarrassed out of his mind— but he didn’t care. Not one bit. “Please.. please touch me more.”

Your glossed lips curled into a small smile, leaning over so you two were only a breath’s away. “You’re so cute, Ino.” You spoke softly, closing the gap to capture his lips. Slowly, you two enjoyed the other’s mouth, pressing your body against his own. You felt his hand twitched with uncertainty, slowly lifting to gently grasp your waist. You smiled against his lips, gently biting them in response. The moment a soft gasp escaped him, your tongue intruded his mouth, while your hand.. reached into his pants.

His fingers gripped your bare skin as your own traced his shaft, feeling him slowly harden under your touch. You wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pulling him out of his pants and boxers. The man groaned softly as your thumb traced his tip, feeling precum slowly drip from the slit. You pulled back, cooing at the sight of his strained face. How cute..

You leaned over, lips pressed against his neck as you began to drag your hand up and down his shaft, slowly, watching him twitch with each glide across his sensitive tip. You sucked a kiss into his skin, switching around to kiss against his throat; relishing at the gulp you felt under your lips. Your hand quickened around his cock; focusing around his tip, grinning at the way his hips rose up into your hand.

“So cute..” You murmured to yourself, watching him carefully. He felt so sensitive from your touch, gasping out; soft groans escaping him every so often. The hand on your hip was bruising by now, fingertips digging into your skin, holding on for leverage. He’s never felt anything like this; your hand completely differently from his own. You played like him as if you knew his own body more than he did, grazing across secret places he’s never known about.

“O—oh, fuck..”

“You’re close, handsome?” You questioned softly, eyelids lowered as you hand got even faster. The man was bucking up into your hand at this point, fucking it, chasing his release. One he reached easily, lips parted as a husky, prolonged moan escaped his throat. You hummed softly as his warm release coated your fingers, glancing down as your hand slowly came to a stop. You tilted your head with a little simper, traveling down the bed. “You made a mess of yourself, Ino.”

Your voice brought him down from his high, blinking tiredly over at you. To his horror, you were leaning down towards his cock; the man gasping the moment your lips brushed his tip. “F—fuck..” He whined softly, gripping the blanket under him, a stuttered groan escaping him as your tongue traveled up his shaft, collecting his cum. “‘M too sensitive, please—“

Ino’s own pornographic groan interrupted his words the moment you took him into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your warm cavern. He could only lay there, overstimulated whines escaping him as you took him deeper into your mouth, tongue gliding across his cock; allowing his tip to hit the back of your throat.

You bobbed up and down his length, eyes closed and focused on your breath. Your hands resting on his thighs, feeling the muscles shake and clench with each movement of your head. It didn’t take long for the poor man to come again, his voice much louder than before; painting your mouth and throat white. Your moaned around his cock, slowly sucking him dry, feeling his hand press against your shoulder— gasping from the sensitivity. You pulled back slowly, swallowing the rest of his release, eyes peering over at him.

You warmed as his hand traveled to your face, feeling his thumb gently wipe away your mouth. You leaned into his palm, “Did that feel good, Ino?” You questioned sweetly, watching the man nod rather quickly; still breathless. You gently kissed his palm — right above his wound —, slowly traveling up his body, settling on his torso. His hands found your ass, gently caressing the warm skin— clenching when you pressed against his chest lightly.

“You want more, don’t you?” You spoke softly, leaning closely. Your noses brushed, moving in as if to kiss him, only to back away the moment you saw his eyes fluttered. His hand clenched your ass, a small chuckle exiting you as a result. “Use your words..”

Ino breathed sure his cheeks and ears were terribly red. He never imagined his first time would go like this, but, he wasn’t complaining. He glanced into your eyes, “Please.. I—I want to feel you.” He spoke, watching as you moaned softly at his words. He felt accomplished the moment you rose your body, scooting down a bit to hover above his crotch.

Your hand collected his cock, breathing slowly as you lined it up with your entrance. Pressing your knees into the bed, you slowly lowered yourself on his length; feeling his hands grasp your thighs the moment they began to shake. You moaned as he stretched you, velvety walls clenching the deeper he went. Soon, you settled into his lap, pressing your hands against his stomach to still yourself.

“Ar—are you okay?” You glanced up to spot the tinge of worry in his eyes, your cheeks warming at this. You leaned over, kissing his chin.

“Of course.”

Digging your knees into his soft blankets, you rose yourself up until only his tip remained inside— dropping down in one swift motion. The action caused the both of you to moan, his hands clenching your skin; resting his head on his pillows. You hands pressed against his stomach, fucking yourself on his cock; pretty moans escaping your swollen lips.

Ino was holding you so tightly at this point, allowing you to do anything you wanted; trapped under the pleasure you were giving him. Your plush walls clenching him, your hot skin pressed against his own— it was all so much, but he loved every piece. Hazy eyes slowly focused on you, watching work yourself up and down his length, how erotic your expression was.

“Look.. fuck— You’re so pretty.” Ino gasped out, hands traveling to your waist, slowly meeting your thrusts. His hips circled, watching you clench his shirt, pretty babbles of his name escaping you. He wanted to see more of it, needed to. You were far too much, yet he craved it.

A surprised whine escaped you the moment he began to fuck up into you, his feet flat on his bed, holding you tightly on his cock so you could do nothing but take it. The sound of skin on skin contact entered the room, your jumbled noises of pleasure surrounding the space too. Your bodies moved against each other, desperate for release— for the other’s as well.

Repeated fucks escaped you, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck as he rose his hips more; reaching even deeper inside your messy cunt. You held onto him tightly, eyes pinched close as your nails dug into his covered skin. “F—fuck, so close, so close— Ino!”

His breathing was ragged, face stuffed into your neck as he felt his hips began to stutter. “Me.. me too, fuck— can i come inside? Wanna.. fill you up, oh fuck!” Ino’s voice came out in harsh whimpers, thrusts turning desperate, slamming into you as his mind grew cloudy. In the midst he heard your soft pleas for his cum, your pretty whines enough for him— pushing him over the edge. Spilling into your, fucking his seed into you; stuffing you full.

You gasped, eyes rolling back as you came as well; wet walls clenching, milking him of all he’s worth. The two of you panted heavily, his hips slowly falling to the bed as his arms wrapped around your middle. Your fingers curled into his hair, eyes closed as you simply laid on him.

“… Are you leaving now?” His tone was soft, voice scratchy from its previous abuse. You smiled at his words, shaking your head. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

To your surprise his arms wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“Good.”

#mani writes ━━ ★#mechahrt #mdni #jjk smut #jjk x poc!reader #takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino x black!reader #black!reader #fem!reader #x reader #chubby!reader

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yokohamapound · 10 months

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hii omg i just discovered ur blog and ur writing is! so! amazing!!! i’d like to request maybe chuuya, ranpo, dazai and fyodor with an s/o who likes to bite them playfully??

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Contents: NSFW references, biting, NSFW "punishments"

Nakahara Chuuya

The first couple of times you do it, Chuuya yelps and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks until your lips pucker out like a fish.

“The hell was that for?” he demands. “Damn rabid brat.”

If you make a habit of it, however, he decides to fight fire with fire. If you sink your teeth into his arm, he’s going for your neck. If you bite his neck, he’s gonna yank down your pants and bite your thighs. Don’t try to one-up Chuuya, because you’ll likely fail.

He gets into it. Before you know it, it becomes a habit to shove you up against the nearest vertical surface and leave a few bite marks and love bites on your throat, your chest, your arms. He’ll pin you in place with his Special Ability so you can’t wriggle away. If you’re going to bite him, then he’ll make sure you can’t hide the ones he leaves on you, either.

Bite his neck during sex to make him go wild.

Dazai Osamu

Dazai complains like a big baby when you sink your teeth into him. He blinks those big brown eyes at you and asks in a piteous voice why you’re always attacking him. In some ways, you’re more feral than some of the orphans he’s picked up. Atsushi turns into a literal tiger and he doesn’t bite!

Don’t let Dazai’s whining fool you—he doesn’t actually have a problem with you biting him now and then. You can’t do a whole lot through his bandages, anyway.

Unlike Chuuya, he probably won’t bite you back. Not immediately, anyway. He’ll save it for when you’re spread underneath him, on the edge of an orgasm and begging for him to send you over the edge. That’s when he’ll sink his teeth into your inner thigh, or bite playfully at your nipples. He’s quite a proponent of mixing a little pain with your pleasure to heighten the sensation.

If you bite him in bed, he moans and fucks harder, his back shuddering.

Edogawa Ranpo

Look, I completely get it. Ranpo is such a cute little brat that he induces cute aggression in his partner, to the point where you quite literally want to bite him.

The first time you do it, he's kind of confused. Did you mistake him for a gummy bear or something? But when he sees the stupid, glazed look in your eyes, he knows.

"That's the same look the boss gets when we go to the cat cafe," he says, pointing his lollipop at you in accusation. "Next thing you're going to start waving a feather on a stick in front of my face."

Yeah, you've been tempted.

Ranpo won’t be the bigger man. He will absolutely bite you back. He has a habit of snapping at your fingers when you reach for his face or his snacks, or he might turn his head and bite your cheek or your chest like he’s biting into a steamed dumpling.

Chomp.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor is a bit of a hypocrite here, seeing as he spends most of his time chewing on his own fingers. Obviously, evidence indicates that he is in fact very biteable. All that pale, pristine skin. How can you not want to leave a couple of marks on him?

However.

While he might excuse a love bite or two during your little conjugal sessions, he isn't nearly so forgiving of you sinking your little teeth into his arm or his shoulder or god forbid, his face whenever you get the urge.

He looks down at the teeth marks you've just left in his forearm and raises an eyebrow.

"Are you a kitten I took from its mother too early, my love?" he asks, his tone promising…something…later. "Or perhaps you have developed a case of vampirism.”

If he truly minded, he'd find a way to "encourage" you to stop, but as it is, he is more likely to have you restrict your biting to the bedroom, where he has the time and leisure to repay the favour as he sees fit.

And if you don't heed him, he might just see fit to put you in your place, whether that be on your knees in front of his desk chair while he works, or bent over his lap while he disciplines you properly.

#yokohamapound #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #Nakahara Chuuya #Dazai Osamu #Edogawa Ranpo #Fyodor Dostoevsky #Dazai x Reader #Chuuya x Reader #Ranpo x Reader #Fyodor x Reader

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tamberella · 2 months

Note

Congratulations on your author debut, I'm so excited for your book!! 😇💕

Would you consider talking about the whole process of becoming a book illustrator /children's book author?

Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!! And I'd be happy to share the process!

It all started for me with my 3dTotal artbook. 3dTotal is a small publisher in the UK, and they mainly focus on collections of artists' work. They use Kickstarter to fund each book, and my agent (the amazing Seth Fishman at Gernert) discovered me through the Kickstarter for my artbook Windows to Worlds!

He asked if I had any interest in working on graphic novels or picture books, and I had already been thinking about picture books! He found me my first picture book project with Penguin Workshop, Mother of Sharks, written by the awesome Melissa Cristina Márquez, which came out last year!

While I was working on Mother of Sharks, I was also talking with him about developing The Bakery Dragon, based of course on this painting, which was (and is) one of my proudest artistic moments.

For a little background on the painting, I painted it right after a really challenging couple of months medically - I was dealing with medical complications from my chronic illness for about 6 months, and I wasn't able to finish a single painting the whole time, I was just too exhausted from hospital visits and being in pain. That painting was the first piece I was able to actually complete (both emotionally and literally) in about half a year. So it always held a really special place in my heart, and I really wanted to keep living in that little world. I think there's something in it that is very special to me, about being outside in the cold, seeing warmth and love through a glass barrier, and wanting desperately to reach it.

With Seth's guidance, over a couple months, I developed a pitch for it. The script developed slowly alongside the designs for characters, locations, etc.

(Early version of Ember above! He has changed a bit!)

I thought I had already read a lot of picture books, I've always loved them, but I read hundreds and hundreds during this process. There is something uniquely fun and challenging about telling a complete narrative in 48 pages (which is already a long picture book, many are 32!) My book also pulls some elements from comics, such as speech bubbles, which I found to be incredible assets for humor and character development.

My pitch included designs, some early example spreads, and a rough script with story beats and jokes! My agent took it out into the world, and the publisher we ended up going forward with was Knopf, an imprint of Penguin Random House! I absolutely love the Knopf team and the beautiful books they put out! My editor, Katherine Harrison, really understood what I wanted to accomplish and has been so incredibly helpful in her guidance!

And from there... through rewrites, dialog adjustments, and lots and lots of drawings, it became a book! I'm happy to answer questions about the process! I'll leave you guys with a little preview from the interior of the book! (And of course you can pre-order it here, gotta learn the author skill of always including that link haha!)

#ask #book making process #author process

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qlossytbh · 19 days

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer seem to have a lot more in common than you let yourself on to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 trauma dumping between reader and Spencer, the two of them have fucked up childhoods, sexual tension (?), mentions of schizophrenia, mentions of depression and attempted suicide, reader has a fucked up dark humor

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this was honestly just an idea that came to me while watching season one finale, he’s just so *chefs kiss* and I wanna give him a hug. BY THE WAY IM ONLY ON SEASON TWO SO DONT SPOIL and i’m still trying to develop the characters in my head. also i feel like it’d be super funny for season 1/2 Spencer to be with someone with a super sarcastic and twisted humor

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was an uncomfortable silence and you acknowledged how the events of that day personally affected Spencer. It was like the air was thick and both of you wanted to speak but didn't think of doing so. You glanced over at Reid from your spot next to one of the file drawers, wondering how he was holding up. You saw him shifting in his chair as his eyes scanned through a few of his own files that sat comfortably in his lap.

It had never even occurred to you that Spencer's mother had been schizophrenic, much less that she had been put into the Bennington sanitarium. Earlier, while she was helping out with the case, things seemed normal. Sure, she was a little reserved and seemed constantly on edge, but you thought that was just another one of her odd traits. But when you and Morgan were covering for Reid as he practically jumped head first into a room with a bombed UnSub that was keeping Rebecca Bryant hostage, he briefly started mentioning all these connection with his mother and then stated very explicitly that she was borderline schizophrenic. You looked at Morgan in shock and nearly dropped your gun in shock.

Spencer was one of those people who had always been a closed book with himself, because god knows he loves to talk about other things, but those things never associated with himself. It was like a distraction he put up for people to latch onto so he avoided people asking about him. Since you and Spencer had become friends he'd never really talked much about himself and his personal life. He always preferred hearing you ramble about some random personal drama you were dealing with. He even found it endearing how you'd arrive at work and immediately started venting rapidly and furiously about something as stupid as how you hated slow drivers or how people were waking slow on the sidewalk.

Thats probably why everyone always pried and teased when it came to your dynamic. The two of you complimented eachother perfectly, at least that's what everyone would always tell you.

Spencer could be a little more uptight and calculated, struggling to let loose while you however, usually took most things with humor. Sometimes your humor could even be a little dark and twisted. You joked around— sarcasm being your main powerhouse of humor, which unsurprisingly was very hard for Spencer to catch onto. You usually found yourself regularly explaining to Spencer that you were only joking, it happened regularly. You only found it endearing though and somewhat entertaining.

But that's exactly why you and Spencer worked so well. Spencer's grounded way of thinking helped you see things in a different light and he brought the best out of your critical thinking. He worked as a real life anchor and you helped Spencer get out of his overthinking, grounding him and helping him see things with a little more light. What you lacked he recompensted, and what he lacked you recompensated. The two of you filled the gaps the other was missing. A real power dynamic as Morgan would frequently quote.

But in situations like now, you truly wondered how much he could be potentially hiding about himself. You felt like you knew him so well but simultaneously not at all. That's what drawed you in so badly. Spencer had so much in his head and all you wanted to do was insert yourself into it and dissect every and any thought possible. You truly wanted to understand his way of thinking.

You shifted on your heels, sneaking glances at him trying to figure out how you could potentially check if he was okay. Because by the way his knee bounced nervously and the familiar furrow in his brow, you knew his head was racing uncontrollably. You let out a heavy sigh and he turned to you which only caused you to nervously look away and back down at the file in your hands. Suddenly you were the one bouncing your leg nervously.

There was this awkward wall between the two of you that you needed to break through, so without another thought, you set the file down and made your way to the couch he was sitting on. He sat on the left side, allowing his elbow to rest on the arm rest while he scanned his eyes through the papers that sat in his lap.

Without a single word, you sat on the farther right side and faced him. Your eyes bored into the side of his face and after a few seconds, he became nervous with the realization that your piercing gaze was on him. You leaned back, and kicked his foot gently in an attempt to grab his attention. He turned to you, humming silently but still clueless to your intentions.

You narrowed your eyes as him "What's going on in that pretty big brain of yours?"

He fumbled slightly with the papers in his lap as he opened his mouth to answer bu then clamped it shut. "Uh, I'm reading through the various files about the case and how we—" He started, gesturing to the papers

You were quick to cut him off. "No— I mean, how are you?"

He looked at you severely confused, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm....good?"

"Good..!" You continued, suddenly feeling your cheeks grow hot. Well this was severely embarrassing "Great, yeah that's— uhm, great."

There was a silence, again. You looked down at your hands and nervously played with the rings that sat comfortably on your fingers. It dawned over you that this was harder than you thought it was going to be. You didn't know how to approach a delicate topic with him, all you knew what to do was to joke around, so this was becoming harder for you than you had anticipated. When you looked up at him, he was looking down at you and your blazing hot cheeks.

"You're blushing," He stated bluntly, scanning your face. Your eyes suddenly blew wide and you felt yourself choke on air. "Which either means you're feeling embarrassed, or nervous, or—"

"What? No!—" You groaned and pointed a finger at him. "Don't go all profiler on me. I'm the one who asked you how you were doing!"

"But didn't I specify that I was doing good...?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused. You deadpanned at your best friend and he suddenly grew small under your gaze. You dragged a hand across your face with a groan.

"Spence, I'm not talking about that.." You looked him in the eye and took a breath. "Are you ok?"

Spencer definitely took his time answering. You sat there, looking somewhat stupid waiting for his answer as all he did was scan your eyes, looking for— something..? Spencer was confused and he wanted to get to where you were going with this conversation but he genuinely had no clue as to what you were trying to get at. Realizing he wasn't catching on, you continued.

"You know for someone as smart as you, you sure are slow," You shoved his foot once again with your own and smiled at him. "I didn't know about your mother."

"Oh.." He then slumped with realization as a weak smile reached his face. He looked down at his files and fumbled with the corner of one of them, folding and unfolding it gently.

"Yeah, 'oh'," You teased. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer trusted you more than life itself, he knew he could tell you but right now he felt this piercing anxiety. Vocally admitting something that he may have some underlying issues with, letting you know that, terrified him. This was hard for you as well. You cared about him and you didn't know if he was or wasn't comfortable sharing this with you. But guessing on his usual demeanor, you'd take a wild guess that opening up isn't his favorite thing to do. You couldn't blame him though, you had the same problem. He looked up at you and just seeing you there waiting for him patiently to tell you anything was enough to make him crack.

"Schizophrenia is a life long illness," He said. "Her meds keep her stable but she still has bad days at the sanitarium."

You nodded your head softly as all your attention was suddenly directed to him and only him. "I don't remember much about when she was first admitted but I do remember that she used to always read me these poems."

You smiled to yourself, and he followed suit. When his gaze fell from you to the wall in front of him, you opened your mouth to speak. "How come we never realized you ever leaving to go see her or visit her?"

"Because I didn't," He admits. His brows furrowed faintly. You sat in silence, pushing for him to continue speaking. "I don't."

"How come?" You asked, lookin down and picking at your nails. He shook his head and pulled his lips into a straight line. He didn't really have an answer to what you had just asked. His shoulders shrugged slightly as he seemed at a loss of words.

"I think it's because in some weird, meticulous, twisted way I see myself when I see her." He stated "I see myself ending up just like her."

"I write her letters everyday, just so I don't feel— you know, guilty, but knowing that schizophrenia is genetically passed on—" He shook his head. Your brows furrowed in anguish as you looked back up at Spencer. He never told you.

"Spence," You said, shaking your head. "I didn't know."

He looked at you and got nervous with the way you were looking at him so he brushed it off almost immediately. "Y-You had no way of doing so,"

"I mean yeah, I guess.." You sighed, brows furrowed. A silence then dwelled upon you and you found your head racing at a thousand miles per hour. Spencer looked over at you after a few minutes and saw your gaze glued onto the ground. Because when he noticed how the corner of your lips were tensely tugged to the side and the soft crinkle in your brows, he knew your head was racing uncontrollably.

"What's going on in that pretty brain of yours?" He said pursing his lips as he hugged his arms and nudged your foot and causing you to snap out of your trance. You suddenly felt yourself grow nervous which is something you rarely did and much less with Spencer, but his borderline flirtatious tone and the way he had quoted your previous words, caught you off guard. Your favorite thing was when Spencer teased because it was so out of character of him and it rarely happened.

Not entirely ready to talk about what had awoken in your head, you decided to joke around. "Oh okay, now I get it. You can have a pretty big brain but only I can have a pretty one?"

You could physically see how he rescanned and revisited your conversation and started growing nervous at the possibility that he had offended you in any way. "You calling me stupid, Dr. Reid?"

"What? No! I meant—" He shook his hands franticly, turning his body to face you, face growing red. "That you can uhm, also have—"

You let out a soft laugh and he stopped immediately. "Your joking, of course.."

He felt that his collar was suddenly growing tight. The way you were speaking to him was enough to cause him to melt into putty at your feet and when your laughter filled the room he could feel everything stop. His cheeks grew hot and were practically burning to the touch.

You leaned forward and pulled at the end his tie. "Now look who's blushing."

You let him go with a laugh, and fell back shaking your head as Spencer's breaths grew even shallower and he became even more nervous. You grossed your arms over your chest and looked at the floor.

"You're not alone you know," Your words had caught Spencer off guard as he tried to recompose himself. He looked over at you but your gaze remained on the floor.

"What—" He tried saying but when his voice came out all shaky, he quickly cleared it out as embarrassment seeped in. "What do you mean?"

"You're not alone with all the— fucked up family melodrama crap," You shrugged and spared him a slight glance. "I get it."

Spencer watched you closely and realized, due to your body language, the way your face was all scrunched up and basically just knowing you, that something was up and you were hiding something. He waited intently, expecting you to go on further. You brought one of your knees to your chest while the other hung off the couch. "I remember when my sister was admitted to a psych ward, I had this huge inner turmoil, kind of similar to what you telling me now with your mom."

Spencer being taken a back was an understatement. You'd always been so put together, so happy most of the time and you've always been the brightest light in the room. You also never showed any signs of having this going on in your personal life that he almost felt stupid for not seeing it, but you knew how to hide things pretty damn well. It was crazy how someone could be going through the worse and can hide it so well.

"She was severely depressed, she tried to end her life like, four times?" You rested your chin on your knee and laughed softly. "Lost count after a while."

"That's not funny—" Your face fell in realization that it wasn't a topic or time to joke around. He smiled to himself, finding your dark twisted humor somewhat concerning, but also alluring.

"Anyways, the first few times didn't really take a toll on me, and I'm not sure I can say why," You paused. "Maybe I just didn't allow myself to feel because I knew that if I did, I'd fall apart and I couldn't let that happen, I didn't want anyone to see it happened and maybe if i avoided doing os, i could pretend like it never happened but the time she ended up in the hospital was scary, to say the least."

"I had called 911 and she couldn't be alone before the ambulance arrived. My mom was coming home from work so she gave me specific order to not let her out of my sight. When I tried to stop her from leaving the house, she attacked me," You took a deep breath and smiled. "Couldn't even do anything about it,"

"I think the worst part is that I was just trying to help but with the state of mind she was in, she only saw me as a threat. She'd say the most nastiest shit just to get at me," You looked over at Spencer. "Which worked, in case you were wondering."

"She got taken to the hospital and I never spoke to her again," You shrugged, pulling your lips into a straight line. "Things just fell apart after that but, I don't feel guilty about not seeing her... I think."

"I offered her help and comfort, time and time again, after every attempt, I'd always tell her that I was right here if she needed me." You looked at your hands. "I wasn't going to let her destroy me and treat me like that after I had offered to help so many times, theres a certain point where you just can't help anymore. I couldn't help her if she didn't want to be helped. I had to accept it wasn't something I could fix, as much as I wanted to."

Spencer stared in silence. You looked at him and smiled. The two of you just sat in that confusing but comforting silence, staring into each other's eyes and letting this new light you had discovered about the other settle in. There was something unfamiliar yet satisfying pooling around you two. Something about seeing someone's vulnerabilities and listening and deciding to stay around was so sacred to you. Being the comedic relief in peoples lifestyles was specifically a way of avoiding letting anyone know and see your darkest sides, but somehow Spencer gave you enough security to let that go and be fragile with him and you now felt closer to him than ever.

"Look at us," You gestured. "Bonding over deep rooted family trauma's."

He shook his head and let out a laugh that in that specific moment, was music to your ears. You looked down with a smile.

"You know," He said, making eye contact with you again. "I find it very intriguing how most people don't know what's going on in someone else's head or life until they directly tell them, no matter how close they are,"

"Here, people usually tell me their secrets all the time, so I know a lot about others" He shrugged with a smile, diverting his eyes from you once again and right into his lap. "I think it's cause they know I don't have anyone to betray them too."

This saddened you, is that really what he thought? That he had no one to go to? Before you could dwell on it, he shot you a smile from the side. "Except my mother, I tell her pretty much everything."

"I knew you were a Momma's boy," You accused. "I bet you tell her about me all the time."

You had initially been joking but Spencer smiled softly and shook his head. "I do actually,"

Your laugh slowly faded but your smile remained. He looked at you closely, scanning your every movement with nothing but fondness. You felt your pulse in your throat and without missing a single beat you scooted forward on the couch, allowing yourself to be closer to him. He swallowed thickly, before you took his hand into your own.

"I think," You started, looking at his hand in your own as your fingers carressed his knuckles softly. "People go to you because they know they can trust you, and that isn't a bad thing."

"I haven't told anyone about my sister, and I didn't tell you with the security that you wouldn't tell anyone because you don't have anyone to tell," You looked at him. "I told you because I trust and care about you, Spence."

Never before had Spencer thought that he would ever be able to confide in anyone the way he confided in you. Just like you had stated before, you and Spencer brought the best out of each other, even if that meant talking about the worst. After a little while of silence you pulled Spencers arm open.

"Scooch." You fumbled around before letting yourself fall into his side, cuddling into him as much as you could and letting his arm drape around your shoulder. You grabbed his free hand and interwinded it with yours, smiling at how perfect his hand felt in yours. You felt your face flush at the newfound proximity, but it felt too good and too natural that you didn't have it in you to overthink. Spencer could say the same as he felt his body relax into yours. After a while of the two of you basking in each other's touch and comfort, you pulled away momentarily.

"If you ever scare me as much as you scared me today when you jumped in head first to talk to the UnSub, I will make it my personal job to make your life a living hell." You warned, looking at him intensely. He rolled his eyes laughing, and pulled you back into his side.

"Yes ma'am"

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