#i draw faces a lot and they are still so so difficult for me. god

[creatediana]

“Naked lady from memory” - an ink doodle from 4/26/2023 in a friend’s pocket journal

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook��" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[billwidoll]

Why do you only call me when you're high?

It was a party night at Rafe's house, it was always a party at Rafe's house. He always had fun and drank to his heart's content, but when he woke up he was sorry for always hesitating with you. But he always did the same thing So you always forgave him when necessary

Rafe always loved you, that was a fact. But he had a problem with alcohol and drugs, so that always hampered your relationship. But this time you promised not to forgive any other The nonsense that Rafe did, it was time for him to be sure that he would lose you somehow.

"Rafe! Your girlfriend is here, at the party" Topper speaks loudly in Rafe's ear, because of the sound

"what? My baby is here! Where is she?" Rafe talks completely stoned

"no Rafe! You can't show up like that...she'll want to break up with you" Topper advises his friend, but Rafe wouldn't listen

"she loves me, okay? She would never abandon me" Rafe says in an almost serious tone after he really thought you would always give in to his love

Even though he knew about his existence at the party, Rafe continued drinking and smoking a lot and talking to girls who were interested in him. What Rafe was really waiting for was to see you even if that It was hard to believe

You were confused looking for your boyfriend until you saw him talking to a generic blonde

"Oh my God! Rafe? My boyfriend? Who I haven't seen in two days?" You speak sarcastically and disrupt Rafe and the blonde's conversation

"My beautiful princess, I was talking about you" Rafe says completely drunk and kissing you with hot drink breath

"Rafe! Don't you dare touch me! Where were you these last two days? Why didn't you answer the messages?"

You speak, drawing the attention of several people and Rafe ends up grabbing your arm, not so Strong and taking you to a more private place

"I already told you not to touch me!!" You say getting rid of him when you finally arrived at a calmer place

"I think you better not start your tantrum" Rafe says rolling his eyes at you

"tantrum? Rafe...I just want to ask you something" you say in an almost whisper and tired of putting up with all of this

"you can talk, but if you want to give your lecture..." Rafe was talking but you interrupt him

"you love me?" You ask looking deeply into Rafe's eyes.

"but what question is that? And of course I love you!" Rafe says smiling at the end and hugging you

"So if you love me, give up the drugs, the drinks and the parties and let's live a happy life!"

You say, still hugging him, but with every word you said, Rafe let go of you, it seemed like he didn't like your proposal.

"what? You want me to change my ways because of you? I'm sorry if I'm not prince charming"

Rafe speaks out and you raise your eyebrows, not believing what you were hearing.

"I don't want you to be a prince charming! I want you to be a boyfriend!" You speak shouting with tears in your eyes

"I'm sorry, princess! But that's how I am! And I'm not going to change my ways because of you"

Rafe says, shouting in your face, making you cry even more

"so what about this? Do you really want me to abandon you?" You say drying your tears

"we both know that won't happen" Rafe says in disbelief that you could abandon him

"okay...let's see" you say decide to never forgive Rafe again or at least get back with him, you would start a new life without him

Seven years later:

After several years later, Rafe Cameron's life became hell. He drank day and night, worked with a sullen face and had no friends left, they were all married and had children already Rafe He only had a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Rafe wanted to die, he wanted it so bad, but he needed to at least apologize to you seven years later

It was difficult, but Rafe managed to find the house where you lived and he was so happy but so sad and emotional at the same time, he needed to tell you so many things, he needed to see how you were, He needed to apologize to you

And so it was, Rafe found the beach house where you lived temporarily, after it was summer and it was also in Rafe's city so he had the opportunity

When Rafe got there, he saw that the house was flowery and very cheerful, whereas his house was gray and dark. Rafe was scared, he wanted so badly to let go of that fear But it was difficult. But even so, he would knock on your door and declare himself

Rafe approached his door and rang the doorbell, his hands shaking.

It took about 1 minute for you to open the door and when it opened. Rafe found himself with a child in his arms and you were hissing in confusion.

"I'm sorry...but can I help you?" You ask in the voice of an angel, when Rafe heard that voice he heard his heart beat again

"I guess...I only called you when I was high, didn't I?" Rafe says this humorless joke, but it made you remember perfectly who it was in front of you

"oh my god Rafe!" You say, hugging him even though you have the baby on your lap "come in, please" you say, making room at the door for him to enter

When Rafe walked in, he realized that the beach house was so beautiful and family-friendly, it would make him so happy

"It's beautiful here..." Rafe says, totally mesmerized by the place

"and...what do you think an architect's house would be like?" You say putting the baby in the crib and make Rafe surprised by your profession

"Did you become an architect?" Rafe asks, completely shocked by the information.

"yes! I learned about it at college and I'm still working in this field today" you say, sitting in a chair and giving Rafe a friendly smile

"and who is that cute little thing?" Rafe says referring to the drink you were holding

"that's my son Jonathan, he just turned 2" you say smiling, proud to remember that you had an adorable son

That was a knife in the gut for Rafe, he knew things would change, but it hurt. He just wanted to go back in time and fix everything

"he's beautiful" Rafe says this in almost a whisper, he was trying not to break down there

"But what about you Rafe? How's the biggest playboy on the Outer Banks doing?" You ask with a smile and a light chuckle from Rafe.

"I'm fine...I'm fine...I couldn't learn more about college, but I ended up becoming president of my father's company"

Rafe speaks without being proud of himself, he spoke quietly and with his head down. And you realized that so you decided to talk about someone else's life

"and Topper? I never saw him again" you say trying to change the tone of the conversation

"he... is in Canada, he got married and had twins..." Rafe speaks in a sad tone disguised as joy

"Do you still have contact with him?" You ask innocently and it hurts Rafe so much

"no...he abandoned me...because of drinking" Rafe says with tears in his eyes seeing that situation you approach him and hug him

"Rafe, what's going on?" You say still hugging him

"I just wish I could do everything differently! I just wish I would have listened to you and Topper!"

Rafe explodes with emotion and cries even more in your arms.

"Hey, calm down, okay?" You say trying to calm down, but it was difficult

"you don't understand...I'm a failure in my life and a failure!" Rafe finally speaks, looking into your eyes

"no! Rafe! Look at me, you're rich, beautiful, you have a splendid family"

You say, taking his face and gently running your hand over it.

"but I'm not happy!" Rafe shouts and you feel so bad for him in that moment, maybe... maybe you shouldn't have given up on him seven years ago

"And what do you want me to do Rafe?! If you're like this, it's not my fault" you shout crying back

"No! It's not your fault! That's my fault! I knew how to love..." Rafe shouts back and the only thing you think at that moment is kiss him, like you kissed him before

And that's what you did, you kissed him intensely, The kiss had fear, disgust, anger, surprise, happiness and sadness. But in the end there was peace...the connection between you and Rafe brought each other peace

"I love you, Rafe...But our story ended at that party"

[pipsuwu]

Pretty Boy

A/N: Yes, I did make this gif, but Tumblr dot com has fucked the quality :’) anyways....It has been YEARS since I have written fan-fiction (the last time I wrote fanfiction it was 2018). If you like it, feel free to let me know. If it is absolute dog shit, feel free to let me know. Enjoy, you horny bastard. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.

Summary: You and Spencer have no clue what you are to each other until you confess to him...  Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader 

Genre: Smut                      

Warnings: Foul Language, Sub!Spencer, dirty talk, praise kink, scratching, marking, temperature play, Spencer being referred to as “Princess”, there are a lot of pet names, light dacryphilia, light overstimulation, asphyxiation, 

Word Count: 3,496 

“Would you please stop looking at me like that?”

You shift your gaze, suddenly deciding the wall to your right was far more interesting to look at. When was the last time the wall was painted? The paint is chipping away at the corners…

“Does it make it hard to focus when I do ‘look at you like that’?” you ask, “Just curious…”

“It’s a bit difficult to talk to you when you practically f-fuck me with your eyes,” he says, looking down at the table you’re both sat at. He has been fidgeting with his hands the entire time the two of you have been talking. He was the one who asked you to come here with him for lunch… he did say the two of you needed to talk, but… he hasn’t been able to get to the point. You look back at him, he still has his gaze down to the table before him.

“Does that make you nervous?”

“You mean do YOU make me nervous?” Spencer sighed, looking back at you briefly before deciding he could not handle eye contact with you at this time.

“Well, do I?” you asked, matter-of-factly. “Do I make YOU nervous?”

“Honestly? Yes, but also no, I do not know quite how to articulate it… what are we?” He looked up at you, holding eye contact this time.

Ah, so that’s what this is about…You knew this would come up. You and Reid had an… interesting relationship to say the least. The two of you met 6 months ago while he was out with some of his coworkers at a bar, apparently he had crashed some form of “girls’ night” with his bald handsome friend/coworker/wingman? (It wasn’t Spence’s plan, he made sure to ramble on about it being all baldy’s idea) Long story short, he ended the night talking with you at the bar for over an hour rambling on about anything and everything he could think of while you just listened to him. God, he is so cute when he rambles…Anyways, you snuck your number in his blazer pocket before he left and it was not long before you two were talking…but the labels in your relationship are a bit unclear even after 6 months of talking. You two hang out, go out together, he comes over to your place, you go over to his… It's typically just to watch horrible documentaries while he rambles off statistics and you listen to him. And then there are the times you two have kissed…okay, you two were practically eating out each other’s faces, but that is not only a newer development it is also besides the point…

“I don’t know what we are, Spence… we’ve never really talked about that. Our “friendship and/or relationship”-if you could even call it that-is a bit odd.”

“Well, let’s talk about it,” He replies, after drawing in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Our “friendship and/or relationship”-if you could even call it that,” He says using his air quotes before putting his hand down and reaching the other to pick up his drink and take a sip, you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, he has a really pretty neck… oh right, you’re supposed to be having a conversation…You look up at his face again while he takes another sip.

“I like our “friendship/relationship”…? But I would be lying if I said I did not want to…uh fuck you.”

He chokes slightly, coughing from a harsh intake of air. His mouth stretches into a thin line as he processes what you just told him. He nods, biting his lip before he clears his throat.

“Too much?” You ask, chuckling nervously stirring your very watered-down drink with the paper straw you were given.

“Th-Thank you for your uh honesty, I guess,” He looks down at the table again before meeting your gaze.

“You guess?” You question him, giving him a confused look.

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” He quips, you can tell he’s thinking about what you said, but words are escaping him.

“So you don’t know if you feel the same?” you ask, tilting your head. He shakes his, before a look of panic crosses his face.

“I mean no, as in I do not know uh how I feel,” He felt the need to clarify, you smile and nod your head.

“That’s okay, Spence, you can take your time figuring that out if that’s what you need.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t quite have the words. Until his face just went blank. Completely neutral.

“Let me think about it alone,” He says after a moment, to which you nod.

The check gets paid, split as usual, and then you both go your separate ways. You go to your apartment, changing into a baggy t-shirt and your underwear the minute you get in. You decide to watch some random cooking show on the food network as background noise for a nap on your couch.

The nap was going swell until hours later, you got a call from none other than the pretty boy himself. It has barely been 3 hours… you answer the phone.

“Hey uh Spence-”

“Open the door,” He interrupts, you sit there for a moment, processing what he said.

“P-Please open the door,” He stutters out, you hear him sigh on the other end of the line. You nod, even though he cannot see you. And then, you get up and open the door for him.

“Spence…”

He doesn’t dare step into the apartment, only focused on you standing in front of him.

“It has barely been 3 hours,” You say, your head tilted as you scratched your scalp.

“You said to take my time, I took as much of it as I needed,” He starts, pausing to take a deep breath.

“Can you come in before we have this talk awkwardly in the doorway to my apartment,” You shift to the side, so he can enter the apartment space. He presses his lips together before nodding, he starts taking off his converse and socks by the door before walking to the couch to sit down. You close the door and grab an iced drink for the both of you from the kitchen, before joining him on the couch.

“You said you wanted to f-fuck me?” He said it in the form of a question, his voice so quiet you could barely hear him. You just look at him quizzically.

“Maybe I want you to fuck me,” He states before clearing his throat, “I like the time we spend together, but I do not think we can be ‘friends’... at least not platonically.”

“Maybe..” You repeat back to him.

“I shouldn’t have said maybe… I-I want you to fuck me,” Spencer’s ears start turning red when he stutters out the confession. You smile softly at him, amused.

“When-”

“Right now.” He says it while shifting around, fidgeting, his hands rub over his thighs back and forth. You raise your eyebrows. He looks down at his thighs. You grab his face gently, turning him back to face you. Your free hand moves his hair out of his eyes. You sigh softly.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, you wanted certainty.

“Yes, I am completely sure,” He says, nodding a little. He doesn’t break eye contact for a second.

“Okay, Pretty boy,” you respond practically in a whisper, stroking his hair gently before letting go of his face. He takes the drink I gave him and takes a sip before taking off his scarf and tossing it to the side.

“What’ll the safe word be?” you ask, while watching him take off his blazer and setting it with his scarf.

“Safe word?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, a safe word, in case you want to stop,” you state before taking a sip of your drink.”Is that a problem?”

“No, how about ‘potassium’?” He asks, looking back at  you,  you pause, nodding. He started loosening his tie. You get up, grip the collar of his button up, and tug him towards you. You start unbuttoning his shirt.

“Wait, potassium?” You ask, causing him to pause. He just nods slowly. You look in his eyes for a minute before booping his nose, nodding back to him before moving your hands back to his shirt. “Potassium it is,” you state, his shirt joins his clothes, and you tug on his belt. Spencer lets out a little gasp, looking you in the eyes, biting his lip a little. The belt gets undone and tossed with the rest of the clothes. You then unbutton and unzip his pants, your eyes never leave his. Even as he steps out of his pants, shuffling them to the pile of his clothes. He moves his hand to the bottom of your shirt, looking down at it while he starts to fidget with the hem in his hands before looking back up to meet your eyes. You look down before looking back up at him, nodding a little. He gets the hint. He takes off your shirt, dropping it on the floor, before gently leaving a chaste kiss on your lips. Your hand moves to run through his hair before gripping the hair at the back, tugging a little causing a low whine to come from Spencer. You deepen the kiss, biting his bottom lip. He moans lightly, bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders. You tug on his hair again harder this time, moving your lips to lightly kiss his jaw before pulling away. You pull your hand out of his hair, lightly pushing him to sit down on the couch before straddling his lap. You sit back, admiring the view. Spence is already panting, he looks up at you through his lashes, his lips are red, and so are his ears. He is so pretty… You run your fingers through his hair gripping it to pull his head back, he closes his eyes. You start running your tongue up his neck, he shudders, humming to himself. You start marking his neck, biting and nipping at the sensitive skin. He moans lightly, his hand slipping in your hair and gripping it lightly causing you to groan. You leave hickeys and bite marks in a path towards his chest. His breathing gets heavier and heavier. You lick up his chest, before swirling your tongue around his right nipple. He gasps, his grip in your hair getting harsher.

“Y-Y/N,”He stutters out your name.You pause before moving to the other nipple, swirling your tongue around it, sucking lightly. He huffs out a heavy breath, groaning lightly. You occupy yourself kissing and marking his chest until you see Spence sliding the hand that isn’t still gripping your hair for dear life into his briefs. You grab his wrist swiftly and bring it up to his face. He lets go of your hair.

“Okay, Princess, I don’t recall saying you could touch yourself,” You state sarcastically.

“Princess?” He questions.

“Do you not like it?” You ask.

“I-I like it a lot...actually” He replies, he can barely look you in the eyes while admitting it. You smile at him, before tightening your grip on his wrist.

“Princess… don’t touch yourself right now, I want to take care of you.”

“Th-Then can you touch me?” He asks.

“You have to be a little more specific, Pretty boy.”

“Can you touch my cock, please…”he is incredibly embarrassed, even asking, you can tell by the tone of his voice, he avoids even looking you in the eyes after saying it. And you bite your lip, shutting your eyes for a second, nodding at him.

“You asked so nicely, so why would I say no?” You drop his wrist before giving him a light kiss, he deepens it, biting your lip and groaning into your mouth when he feels your hand grip the base of his cock. You move your hand along his cock, your grip tight. He groans and whines in your ear. You rest your head on his shoulder before biting down. Your hand gradually picks up the pace along his cock, squeezing tighter every so often, while he pants and moans practically right in your ear. He moves his hands to your shoulders, gripping his nails into your skin and dragging them down your back. You let go of his shoulder with your teeth and moan in his ear, arching your back. Your pace immediately quickens in response.

“Shit, Spence,” you curse, shuddering a little. He whines, continuing to dig his nails in your back.

“I need to c-cum,” He stutters out, his cock twitching as you quicken the pace even more. He stutters out moans, his face contorting in pleasure, sweat drips down his forehead, and on his chest. He seems lost in trying to reach his high. You reach to grab your drink, and take in enough drink allowing an ice cube in your mouth. Spence fails to notice, his eyes squeezed shut, as his back arches slightly. Muscles in his body twitching as he gets closer and closer to cumming. You dip your head, holding the ice cube between your teeth, running it over his chest, his eyes immediately open, as he whines, shuddering at the cold while his cock twitches and his body tenses up.

“F-fuck,” he stutters, bucking his hips up practically fucking your hand, in uneven thrusts. “I need to cum please.” He says a groan following. You lift your head taking the ice cube out of your mouth.

“I’m not going to stop you,” You state, smugly, slowing the pace you have on his cock, watching him come undone. His head immediately fell back, his hips frantically bucking up to meet your hand, as his eyes tears up moaning loudly. You slow your hand down to a complete stop, not wanting to overstimulate him too much… yet. You pull your hand away and lick his cum off your hand. He looks up at you through watery eyes, letting out a light groan at the sight. You were still holding the ice cube, so you decided to just suck it into your mouth letting it melt on your tongue. You briefly leave to get something to clean with before joining him back on the couch. You clean him up before giving him a light kiss letting him recover. You straddle him again, getting in his lap, and he groans. You look at him confused before lightly shifting on his lap. Oh.

“You’re hard again.” You say, shifting your hips again. He grabs your hips trying to get you to stay still, you grip his hands and take them off your hips. You get up and take off his briefs completely, throwing his briefs in the pile of his clothes. He reaches out for your underwear, tugging on the band of it while looking at you. You place your hand over his and help him tug it off leaving it on the floor. Straddling him again, he kisses you. He grabs your arm, mumbling under his breath while tugging on your arm. You raise your eyebrows, not understanding what he wants.

“What is it, Pretty boy?” You ask, making direct eye contact. He avoids eye contact, opting to instead look at your body. You take your hand and place it under his chin lifting his face. He looks at you, almost pouty, you can tell he doesn’t want to say it. Yet he musters up the courage anyway.

“C-can you sit on my face?” He asks, his voice is hushed, he looks embarrassed that he even asked. You have a shit-eating grin on your face right about now.

“…Lay down.”

“Thank you,” this man will be the death of you for fucks sake. You get up so he can lay on his back, once he does you straddle his chest and run your hands through his hair. Every angle is Spencer Reid’s angle, but looking at him like this… he’s so pretty. He runs his hands over your thighs, squeezing them impatiently. He’s begging you with his eyes at this point. You take a deep breath before moving up, positioning yourself over his face, you do not get to finish taking your sweet time as Spence uses his grip on your thighs to pull you down onto his face.

“Someone is very–oh shit, that’s really nice—impatient,” You observed, as he wasted absolutely no time fucking you with his tongue like an absolute madman. The moans coming from you are absolutely obscene and it’s giving Reid quite the ego boost, he’s trying not to smile. You have to stop yourself from practically riding the man’s face. He has barely even started and you already feel your orgasm about to hit you like a tsunami. Your legs are shaking, your breathing rapid, and your hands need something to grab onto so naturally you chose to put them in his hair.

“Th-That’s it, Princess, you’re r-really good at this,” You are tugging on his hair, taking deep breaths, feeling him dig his nails into your thighs and your ass. The closer you get the more you tug on his loose curls. “Shit, Spence, I-I need to—” In order to try and attempt to finish that sentence, one would need to be able to focus. That was practically impossible as Pretty boy had the audacity to look you in your eyes and dig his nails into your ass scratching all the way down. You feel like you just got the air knocked out of you as your orgasm hits. He keeps going, trying to hold your shaking legs as you cum. He keeps going and you eventually move off his face, straddling his chest, trying to recover. You hold both his hands, intertwining your fingers with his.

“I wanted to keep going,” His big ass puppy eyes meet yours as he pouts slightly.

“Don’t pout,” You lean down, resting one hand on his chest, the other reaches back and wraps around his cock. His eyes widen, a moan escapes him, as your thumb gently circles the tip.

“F-fuck me,” he cries out. You give him a soft smile.

“As you wish,” You line his cock up and sink down on it slowly. He groans, grabbing for your hands again to hold them while he takes deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” You ask him and he nods a little.

“I’m—I a-am—I am…wonderful” He can barely get out the words, whimpering in between syllables. His eyes squeeze shut as he takes deep breaths. He is squeezing your hands firmly. His hips fuck up into you and your breath hitches. “P-Please, fuck me.” He says, opening his tear-filled eyes. You do not feel the need to respond verbally, obliging him. You roll your hips before quickly lifting up and moving swiftly back down. He groans, moving his hands to your hips, gripping them. He thrusts up while you continue to set a steady pace. He moans, digging his fingernails into your hips. You moan on top of him, placing your hands firmly on his chest. You feel a little overstimulated, your hips stutter and your legs shake slightly. Tears start running down Spencer’s face, he cries out, soft whimpers leave him as he looks up at you. You move one of your hands, gently wiping the tears from his flushed cheeks before leaning down and kissing each cheek, picking up the pace despite your shaky legs and stuttering hips. Your fingers dig into his chest, scratching lightly and rolling your hips. Feeling a hand leave one of your hips you tilt your head in confusion as you feel Spencer’s hand grab your right wrist. He tugs at the wrist and you allow him to guide your hand to his neck. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows raise, nearly stopping the rolling of your hips against his cock. Experimentally, you wrap your hand around his neck, pressing against the sides of his neck to restrict his airflow, but making sure you do not choke him improperly. His cock twitches and his head falls back onto the couch cushion, his mouth opens, but no words come out and his hips stutter upwards, meeting your pace.

“Shit!” You curse as you cum, continuing to ride out your orgasm. Your hand squeezes his throat a little harder, causing Reid to grip at your wrist, digging his nails into your skin. He cums inside you, moaning and sighing out a light,’fuck’ as he relaxes on the couch, tears streaming down his face. You removed your hand from his throat resting it on his chest.

“Was it worth it, Pretty boy?” You asked, wiping his tears away. Spencer only nods, breathless.while tracing the scratch marks he left on your ass.

[clerk427]

An open love letter to the entire Faith the unholy trinity fandom off sorts. I present to you.....

John in the style of 9 different artist!

(Keep in mind this is a style study. And although the whole thing was drawn by me, please please PLEASE check out the artists whose style I tried out. Thank you!)

This was SUCH a fun experience! I honestly love our fandom, and I adore how unique everyone's style and perception of John is. Says a lot about society or smth.

And even though I probably didn't do justice to all the art styles, I really hope they are recognizable.

Also, you might've noticed an empty spot in the end. Well, it's for you! Naturally, I wasn't able to include every artist, but I hope you will be interested in taking a spin at this yourself. Thank you and good luck!!!

A closer look, links and notes under the cut

@trashprinceward

I adore how soft this version of John looks, he seems so trustworthy and kind, gah. The shading style is surprisingly difficult, but I hope I managed to pull it off:) I also adore Prince's AUs hehehe

@rokiro99

A very unique colouring style!! I've seen a few versions of how this artist draws John, but decided to stop on this one. His face is so adorableeeee. I also LOVE the use of liturgical clothing and themes!!

@karamielo

Eeeeep I love how they use colours in their works and how well they use composition??? Like omg. Such such pretty works, I hope they create even more art

@justcommander

I lovvve how game-adjacent this artist's style is. I also love the way they (I'm so sorry, I'm not sure about the pronouns) draw hands and use body language. Also, the father and children AU??? Muah.

@shu-bullshit

I'm not even pretending I managed to pull this one off, I bit so much more than I could chew. But I couldn't not try, I almost every time I see their use of coloured pencils and watercolours, I just can't. Love love love

@zzoupz

So. As far as I can tell, Zoup doesn't use this style TOO often, but it wasn't leaving my head, I had to try. The artist did so much for the fandom, the Gary ask blog is such a treat. Yum

@genesissaturna

Hee hee he's so shapes. The legs. Beautiful. I wasn't sure about the colouring style since I only saw lineart done by this artist, so I decided to use the in-game ones. I hope they do more art, it's so unique and makes me happy!:)

@hammy-art

Wet cat John. Silly. A little pathetic, but in a nice way. I feel like I didn't make the lineart the way he does, it is usually more gentle, but I still hope it will suffice. Also my God he does amazing backgrounds, which I sadly can't portray here. (A personal thank you for giving me the courage for doing self-inserts)

Annnd that's it! I thank you for everything and I hope this whole thing will somehow inspire you. Keep doing art, let the world see your vision! Also go draw a pathetic blue priest /j

[yuesya]

Sweet notes of music drift into the nighttime air, the song of a lyre accompanied by the clear notes of a young voice.

Ventus smiles broadly, fingers plucking the strings of his own lyre in harmony to his friend’s song.

The life of a bard is not a particularly affluent one. But luckily for them, Ventus has made many friends in all walks of life within the walls of Mondstadt… including talented craftsmen who happened to be highly skilled with woodwork. They had only been all too happy to indulge Ventus’ unusual request of making a miniature-sized lyre for his miniature-sized friend.

“How was that, Ventus? How did I do this time?” A white blur zips towards him, eagerly spinning around him a few times before stopping to hover directly in front of his face. Beneath the white hood, it’s difficult to make out distinct features, or even a face at all, but the small wind spirit’s buoyant enthusiasm is clear to identify from his voice alone.

Ventus smiles and praises, “That was great! You’re getting a lot better with the lyre now, Little Breeze.”

“Yay!” The nameless wind spirit cheers, with a small tinkling laughter that’s filled with genuine delight. He twirls in the air with a small somersault and–

–lands on an open palm.

Ventus blinks. Then, jumps with a startled yelp, because he had not noticed anyone else standing right next to him this entire time–!

The young wind spirit laughs, bouncing excitedly on the newcomer’s hand. “Did you like my music?”

“… It was passable,” is the young girl’s response.

Ventus roams the streets of Mondstadt every day, and he knows all its residents. Yet he can say with complete confidence that this young girl who’d appeared out of nowhere next to him is not someone whom he recognizes at all.

Her hair is long, white. Smooth and silken, in a way that Ventus hasn’t even seen in noble-blooded daughters before. Likewise, her skin is pale and smooth –unblemished and flawless in the way that a person might suspect of a statue, rather than another living human being.

But despite the physical perfections, she’s only clad in a simple white chiton. There is a thin girdle that encircles her waist, and looks to be entwined of coarse wooden fibers.

The juxtaposition is a little… startling.

“Just ‘passable?’” The tiny wind spirit that still stands upon the strange girl’s palm freezes for a moment, then draws himself upright with a loud ‘hmph.’ “But Ventus said my song was great! And he’s the best bard in all of Mondstadt, so there!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say best bard,” Ventus laughs sheepishly, then puts on a friendly smile towards their unexpected guest. “Are you new to Mondstadt, perhaps? A rare visitor! Shall I sing a small song of welcome for the lovely young lady, perhaps?”

The girl doesn’t even deign to glance in his direction, which. Ouch. That’s actually kind of–

“Unnecessary. Your music is stifled.”

Ventus freezes.

Stifled.

… A thick barrier of fierce, impenetrable winds surrounds the city of Mondstadt and its nearby territories. Stifled is the right word for it –how could he not be, being caged like this under the aegis of an uncaring god?

For all that Decarabian had been the one to protect the earliest generations of Mondstadt’s people and help them raise their city from the ground, their patron god had eventually chosen to retire to the recesses of their high tower after the barriers were raised, and none had seen them since… save for the few chosen among the God of Storms’ knights, who continued to serve the deity faithfully throughout the generations. Blindly.

“But your music…” the white-haired girl lifts her hand, studying the little wind spirit that cocks his head towards her. “… you are… happy. Exceedingly so. Why?”

“Well, what’s there to not be happy about?” The young spirit responds. “I’m with my friend, and he’s teaching me how to play wonderful music! We’ll be playing together in the tavern with all of our other friends, too! There’s going to be yummy food and drinks!”

The excitable wind spirit does another little flip again.

“How long have you tarried here?”

The little wind spirit freezes mid-flip, dangling awkwardly in the air. “… Eh? I-I don’t understand what you’re–”

“You should know this,” the girl says, and her next words dismiss any possibility of her being a mundane traveler for Ventus. “You are only a fragment of the wind, a momentary breeze. The rustling of leaves in the morning light… which is how you slipped through the barrier. But no wind is meant to be bound to a single place.”

“B-But I have friends here,” the little wind spirit stomps his feet. “I like listening to Ventus’ music. I like playing tag with Gunnhildr. I want to stay here! … Please?”

The girl tilts her head. “Even if it means your sense of self will disappear entirely, if you insist on forcibly maintaining this form instead of returning to the Thousand Winds?”

Ventus’ mouth drops open.

What?!

“I won’t be myself anymore, if I return to the winds,” the little spirit answers. “I… want to spend time doing the things I like, with the people I like, in the place that I like. Is that so wrong?”

The girl is silent.

Ventus tries to say something, anything. Why didn’t you tell me about this? Is there anything that I can do to help? How could you hide something like this from all of us, foolish little breeze?

But nothing comes out from his mouth. Ventus discovers that his voice has been silenced without his knowing–

And in front of him, a small breeze picks up around the strange girl and the young wind spirit that hovers in front of her.

For a single moment in the silence of the night, only the stars and wind remain.

“… Nameless spirit. One who is but a mere wisp of the Thousand Winds. Who has cast his gaze upon this land and its people, and wishes to linger,” the girl says. But there’s a certain cadence to these words, a certain intonation that causes each syllable to echo in Ventus’ head.

Every note overlaps upon each other again and again, rising into a terrifying crescendo–

“Upon the authority of–” 

The girl’s voice disappears entirely. 

… No, it doesn’t disappear. Ventus is still cognizant of her voice, but for some reason he just can’t hear. But the moment passes swiftly before he has a chance to think too deeply on it, and– 

Suddenly, all pressure disappears from his mind.

Blessed calm.

Ventus gasps, staring into the ground, hunched over and kneeling. What–?

“–I bestow upon you the name, ‘Barbatos,’” the girl says quietly. “… Rise. I permit you to cease your endless wandering, and henceforth grant you a place to belong.”

There is a blinding flash of light that encapsulates the wind spirit. It’s–

Music, song, laughter–

Run, drift, fly–

Freedom–

…

…

…

With a sharp gasp as he startles back into the world of wakefulness, Ventus immediately bolts upright in his… bed…?

No. No, he remembers going out to meet his little friend last night. Playing music together. Then, there was that strange girl who appeared and did something to the wind spirit. It didn’t seem like she had any malicious intent, but…

…

… just who was she? Surely there was someone who would know; her appearance was quite distinctive. Long white hair, coupled with eyes that were–

… were…

…

(What did her eyes look like again? Ventus can’t remember. Ventus has excellent memory, and he can’t remember.)

“You’re awake!”

It is with great relief that Ventus takes in the sight of his little friend… or rather, not so little anymore. The little wind spirit appears to have grown slightly in height. More noticeably, though, there are now a pair of feathery white wings that sprout from his back, fluttering in the air.

“Ba– … err, um. Cecilia! Cecilia said that you were a little sensitive to her power, which was why you passed out, but you should be fine after a good night’s sleep.” The wind spirit turns a playful somersault in the air and plops down atop Ventus’ stomach, causing him to let out a slight ‘oof.’

Then, the words register. “Cecilia?”

“Um… yeah!” A shifty response, accompanied by nervously-fluttering wings. Ventus gives his little friend a look.

“… Did you just make up a name for her on the spot?”

“Her hair is pretty! Like the cecilias you showed me!”

Ventus opens his mouth, then closes it distractedly. “I suppose that’s true…”

“Isn’t it?” Eagerly, the little wind spirit leans forward. “And thanks to her, I don’t have to worry about disappearing anytime soon! And I have a name now, too –Barbatos!”

“… Do you know who she is, really?” Although the girl hadn’t been particularly friendly or talkative… despite everything, she’d helped the little wind spirit –Barbatos– of her own volition even though there hadn’t been any reason for her to. 

The power she’d shown… was she a wind spirit, too? Surely a strong spirit, at the very least. Decarabian had slain so many gods that even now, none dared to linger anywhere close to Mondstadt’s borders. So the very thought of the girl potentially being a god in disguise was a laughable one, but…

If they could get her help, then… perhaps, they would stand a better chance at resisting and overturning Decarabian’s tyranny.

“The winds cherish her,” Barbatos responds, which lends credence to the growing theory of the mysterious girl being another wind spirit. “And… I think she needs friends.”

Ventus hums.

“Well, I think we could help with that.”

[aimbutmiss]

Buggy gently held the face in front of him, fingers wrapping around the jaw to keep it still. He was supposed to go in for the eyeliner next, but the man in front of him flinched as soon as Buggy's fingers brushed his face, the reaction barely visible to the untrained eye. But Buggy knew Mihawk, or he thought he did, at least to a certain extent. He liked to think he improved a lot when it came to reading the hawk eyed man, especially compared to when they first formed Cross Guild. And what all that improvement entailed now, was the fact that the swordsman was uncomfortable. He let go of his face just as gently as he had held it.

"What's wrong?"

"..."

Buggy frowned and slumped his shoulders at the lack of response. "I let you do that horrifying gothic clown makeup on me, remember? Because I trusted you. But I'm not planning on turning you into a clown or anything, it's just your usual black eyeliner. So, trust me?"

"I do trust you." Mihawk sighed heavily, uncrossing his arms. "It's not about that. It's just... I'm not really used to- to this." He motioned between the two of them, trying his best to convey his feelings. He clearly needed more practice in that department, but Buggy took it in stride. They could work on it later, and frankly even this was an improvement.

Buggy retreated a bit, putting some more distance between them. "We don't have to do... this." He motioned between them just as the other had. "I just thought it would be fun, like last time. Even though I ended up looking straight out of a horror story, at least the process was enjoyable. Relaxing even."

Mihawk gave a small smile at that. "I thought you looked rather dashing in black."

Buggy rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. But I think I'll leave that to you. Wouldn't want to steal your schtick."

Mihawk's eyes squinted in amusement. "You couldn't if you tried."

"Nice try, but you can't provoke me like that. I'm not even going near black face paint for the unforeseeable future."

It was Mihawk's turn to roll his eyes, but he didn't say anything. They had fallen into a comfortable silence when Mihawk slowly reached for Buggy's hand, delicately caressing it with his thumb as Buggy held his breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm being difficult. This was supposed to be fun... But I'm okay now, you can continue."

Buggy shook his head, squeezing the hand holding his. "It should be fun for us both, I can't enjoy it if you're not enjoying it as well. You don't have to force yourself."

"I'm not." Mihawk looked Buggy in his big, round eyes that looked like they were portals leading straight to the ocean, his stare as unwavering as his voice as he spoke. "I'm not usually comfortable with people at this proximity... but I've come to find that I really don't mind it with you. I like it, in fact."

Buggy gulped, unable to break the intense eye contact. He didn't really know what he did to get into the swordsman's good graces, but he wasn't gonna mess it up no matter what. He gently reached for his face once again, getting in position to finally draw on the eyeliner.

"Don't move or I'll smudge it." He said, almost in a whisper.

Mihawk simply hummed in understanding, staying still as the waters of the Calm Belt. Buggy's breath was tickling his cheeks, and his hands were warm. He did his best to watch him do his work without moving, carving every inch of his focused face into memory.

"You're beautiful."

The words came out of his mouth without thinking, flowing as naturally as his haki through Yoru, and they made the clown still in his movements.

"What?"

Mihawk gave a breathy chuckle as Buggy's face grew redder by the second. "You heard me, beautiful."

Buggy moved back a bit, staring at the man as if he grew a second head. "What's gotten into you?"

Of course, Mihawk completely ignored him. "You look cute when you blush."

"Oh my God, can you stop?!" Buggy's face was now matching his nose, and Mihawk could swear he could see some steam coming out of his ears.

"You're not very good at taking compliments, are you?"

"I take them all the time! From my crew and my fans... It's just, unexpected from you."

That made something inside Mihawk twinge, but it didn't show on his face. "Then I'll have to compliment you more until you get used to it."

Buggy seemed to be struggling to put his thoughts into words, confused out of his mind at the other man's words. Did he eat something off? Was it a devil fruit user? Because something had to be wrong. But in the mess going inside his head, only one word was able to make its way to his tongue:

"Why?"

"Because I love to have your attention, your eyes on me, your hands on me... and your kindness. But I need to be kind to you as well to deserve it. This, right now... I don't deserve this, as things stand."

Buggy stared at the man in front of him for a moment, before slowly reaching out to cradle his face. "You are kind to me."

"Not kind enough to make up for the things I did before."

So, that's what this was about. Buggy sighed in understanding. "You apologised. I accepted your apology, and Crocodile's. Neither of you have any need to feel bad for your past mistakes."

Mihawk opened his mouth to speak but Buggy shushed him, pressing a finger on his lips. "I forgive you. Just take my word for it, idiot."

"... Alright."

Buggy smiled wide. "See? That wasn't so hard."

Later that evening, Crocodile walked into the tent to find a sleeping Buggy, drooling on a sleeping Mihawk. The swordsman's face was smudged with eyeliner, and the evening breeze was washing over them from the open window flap.

But neither of them were cold when they woke up, covered by a blanket they didn't remember getting.

[akuma-tenshi]

tell me ur theories abt 100 epitaphs

had to go back to get screenshots bc i felt like i was going insane. so:

at the very beginning, during the lyrics "lay your emotions with them like a mourning wreath", there's a shot of kt's face on a headstone. which makes me believe she may have been terminated at some time during this whole thing and there's going to be a twist where yura gets into the facility with whoever the hell decides to join him only to learn she's been dead this whole time and all this was for nothing

my friend pointed this out when the video first came out but there's a shot of yura during the first chorus where he's surrounded by several mostly-unnamed characters when they say "another apathetic epitaph". iirc he's between kolya and nikita, both of whom are dead, and their faces are shown in frames, likely symbolising those photos that are displayed during funerals. which could very possibly foreshadow yura dying, probably during the mission to save kt.

olga being shown with flowers sprouting out of her does not give me hope for her. this is especially worrying considering the fact that she's shown in occam's razor during the line "but some ventures require a sacrificial lamb" - this could refer to her taking the fall for yura after the whole incident in the zone but it's still concerning. oddly enough i'm less confident in this than in my yura and kt dying theories bc it just doesn't feel like olga would die (wouldn't make sense or be satisfying from a narrative perspective) but it's still possible. if she doesn't die then she's definitely not coming out of this the same

this is not the last we've seen of sergei. this may just be wishful thinking (love that square......) and ik he basically just gave up on sanya. but anyone who's tried to help an especially difficult person will tell you it's not that easy to just let them go, especially considering that he's already done so much for her and still has skin in the game even if he does completely drop his sister (*gestures vaguely at that one drawing of him reading a book on "breaking your girlfriend out of jail" or smthn.... ik it's just a silly joke but i'd be fuckin hyped if we got sergei breaking olga out of prison). something tells me he's going to keep trying to influence things from afar without getting too invested; whether he'll keep trying to help sanya or just focus all his effort on olga, i'm not sure.

sanya is becoming another yura. she's getting more hopeless and desperate, not to save kt but to protect / help yura. she's doing crazier and crazier shit and has managed to stay in contact with him even though sergei tried to stop them from meeting. the shot of her laughing surrounded by candles, the shot of her sitting so nonchalantly against the wall talking to dima, the shot of her standing up to sergei to protect yura... she feels very yuracore and it worries me. also the shot of her strangling her past self, the one that was much more optimistic and bright yet sheltered.. any writer will tell you that having a character literally harm / kill their past self is the number one way of indicating that they're completely cutting off their past and moving on.

this is a very stupid theory but kolya isn't actually dead. he plays way more of a role in 100 epitaphs than he ever did before. and yes nikita has content too but there are just.. so many shots of kolya (the one that stands out most to me is of him sitting in the center of the screen with headphones on). he may not be the same person but like. what if the grinder didn't kill him?? what if he's alive, just far away from all this?? what if he comes back?? changed and injured but still kolya. ((god i hope i'm talking about the right person here if that isn't kolya i'm going to look like such a dumbass))

also the title "100 epitaphs" and the prominent presence of two (supposedly) dead characters.... it doesn't inspire confidence in a lot of these characters' chances of surviving.

sorry if some of this is incoherent or just downright weird, i've been up for a while. but i will always take up an opportunity to rant about this video it's had me positively ill. i was literally fucking shaking while typing this

[play-on-skinners-box]

Others have already been furrying the Raincode characters and doing a phenomenal job, but when I would peruse Danganrompa fanart I really liked seeing different and wildly varying interpretations for the characters' animal choices and now it is my turn, my GOD GIVEN DUTY TO PROVIDE IN THE GENISIS OF THE RAINCODE FANDOM, FOR THE HONOR OF THOSE WHO HAVE COME BEFORE ME.

For all of them I used their pose from the artbook renders. I'll say it's to keep them recognizable but that is actually a lie I'm just lazy.

Secretary Bird Halara:

Halara I did first and they were the one I was most jazzed to do because I love them dearly. I made them a secretary bird and I think it's a PERFECT fit. Ahem allow me to rattle off. Secretary birds are birds, so doomed by the narrative to have to stay away from cats, they are predatory birds and of course Halara would be at the top of the food chain. Speaking of predetory birds, secretary birds are known for their ability TO KICK VENOUMOUS SNAKES TO DEATH, AND THATS JUST TOO GOOD A FIT. They also have plumage that I could easily shape into Halara's kinda smooth swoopy hairstyle, and face markings that could be sort of representative of their glasses! I think the drawing for them is probably the weakest out of the group just because as I went along I improved and started to translate the human designs in less one to one ways, plus the pose Halara has in the artbook doesn't fit perfectly to the really big wing hand things. I still enjoyed making it because H A L A R A N I G H T M A R E but I'm honestly kinda sad at how lackluster it is compared to Fubuki and Viva who got the most interesting details and texture work. NEVER DO YOUR FAVORITE FIRST IT'S A TRAP.

Guinea Pig Desuhiko:

With Desuhiko I was going back and fourth between a few rodents, I just think he kinda looks like one and already had those pikachu cheeks. My first scetch made him a hamster, and while it DID look like him, it felt a little too... Indistinct. Desuhiko's probably my favorite design in the cast just because he looks so distinctive and has a short stocky bodytype I really really love and makes my character designer brain happy, so I swapped hamster for guinea pig. While the guinea pig face doesn't look like him quite as much as the hamster, they are very interesting and distinctive looking which I loved a lot more even with a bit of accuracy sacrificed if that makes sense. Also there are Guinea pigs with spikey wild fur that make it so I could just kinda give him his actual hair and still have it make sense. Guinea pigs are also the perfect size and shape to be thrown like a large softball and out of all the Master Detectives Desuhiko looks like he'd be the most sadisfying to chuck across a room.

Fish Fubuki:

Fubuki was really hard just because it's difficult to anthropomorphize a fish in the same way as a mammal or a avian cause of their structure. She might look a biitttt more like a fantasy creature inspired by a fish than just a fish but she's charming enough I don't completely mind. I got some SOLID advice and looked at some Splatoon NPCs characteristics to try and make her more appealing. So why fish? I got it as a suggestion that I ended up really liking because fish are notorious for their bad memory, live in tanks their whole lives(Fubuki is the definition of sheltered), and they have fins to mimic the shape of Fubukis cloak and hair. I used beta fish for reference, they don't really fit her but just being a fish was good enough for me and at that point I was prioritizing looks. She doesn't even really look like any specific species like the other three to be honest. She's defiantly the outlier of the group but that's fine, she can be special in her own unique way like always. Got a little lazy with making the hair look all that fin-like, but it's kinda the main event of her human design so I wanted to keep it as true to that as possible but looking at it now I think its tooooo copy and paste looking. Her furry design IS my brothers favorite out of the batch so that's gotta count for something!

Flying Fox Bat Vivia:

The vampire looking man was always gonna be a bat, I am but a slave to the whims of fate. I made him specifically a flying fox because they're the largest bat species and therefore can loom ominously. Vampire bat would have been fun too, but they have more of a squished bastard energy that doesn't really fit Vivia. Bats also are known for their weird sleeping habits, ala upside. Viva isn't sleeping upside down or anything like that but he DOES snooze in some weird places so I think comparing him to a bat in multiple aspects is very apt! His drawing and animal design is probably my favorite, I really like the wings, and the bat feet are super weird I loved doing those. I did have trouble incorperating his hair, flying foxes have pretty smooth heads, but they do have sort of a mane thing going on so I tried to put some of his hair texture and shape there instead. Sorry I did not give him is edgy edgy hair cut, I too love it very much but it was simply not to be. I did try to mimic it's vibe with the patterning on his head though, an illusion of his bangs.

I'm very happy with this lineup overall, they're some neat little designs if I do say so myself! I might do more but I have the chronic problem of not being able to sit still for a long time to do a BUNTCH of guys again(though for the record I would make Seth the most delightfully storm drain gutter looking creature). I also kinda wanna do Makoto and Yuma cause someone suggested a REALLY good idea for them, but the concept for Makoto with this idea would be more of an involved design that I wouldn't be able to use all of his normal outfit for so it'd probably take longer than average.

TLDR: Furries amiright?

[ingravinoveritas]

Hello there! I hope you are doing well (as well as someone who has completed watching season 2) First of all congrats on moving into a new house! I'm still having lots of Feelings™ to process after finishing the second season.. oh god the acting, the genuine emotions on the faces of both Michael and David this time around... I'm simultaneously radiating happiness and being utterly destroyed. And the increasing intimacy between them in the interviews is not helping matters either... I think (this has been marinating in my head for a while) one of the reasons they are doing this is to physically reassure each other that they are not apart, they are still a team and still on their side, because after the heart wrenching ending of the season, it would have been very hard for them to come to terms with it, as they had put their whole beings, their whole souls into playing Azi and Crowley, which might have made it difficult to draw a line where the characters ended and they begin... So the touches, their body language became a sort of coping mechanism, something which said 'hey, don't worry, I'm still here.. I have not gone away, we're still together' and this makes me wanna cry again 😭

I hope my word vomit makes an iota of sense (English is not my first language by a long shot, so) and I hope you do find some time to rest and have a warm beverage of your choice while unwinding. Stay safe and blessed!!

Hi there! Thank you so much for the congrats on my move, I truly appreciate it. I've actually had a very rough couple of days, as on top of the move, my Facebook account was hacked earlier this week, and it essentially pushed me over the edge and I was crying for much of Monday and felt like I had a crying "hangover" all day Tuesday.

You do not at all have to apologize for your Ask--your English is very good!--and I'm glad to read your thoughts as I make my way through all the Anons still residing in my inbox. Truly, we are fortunate to have GO 2 and Michael and David to focus on, as well as the abundance of interviews we've gotten after months and months of little to no content.

To start: I absolutely agree with you, re: the intimacy between Michael and David in these interviews. It's been so fascinating to see them get more flirty and touchy-feely with each progressive interview (I know we don't know the order in which they were done, but I imagine the flirting/touching increased as the day went on). And while I can definitely see them doing what you described--reassuring each other, touching and being close as a coping mechanism--my feeling is they already did all that last year, probably right after filming That Scene. (There is actually a gorgeous MS/DT fic on AO3 right now that depicts exactly that, and it's definitely worth reading.)

But in terms of all the intimacy and touching in the more recent interviews (from last month), I think what we're seeing is something else. I think Michael and David are beyond the need for reassurance because they are so comfortable with each other and know they're still together, permanently. There's no more of the uncertainty of parting ways after the promo interviews end--only the promise of seeing each other again as soon as both their lives and schedules allow it.

There have been so many moments of telling body language and touches and expressions, but if I had to pick a favorite (well, a few), one would be them walking arm-in-arm onto The One Show:

And the other would be David leaning so far over and draping his arm around Michael in the Amazon Q&A video:

...And of course (and possibly most notable), Michael and David seemingly unconsciously moving closer to each other in the TV Insider interview:

It's so telling that there is no urgency or desperateness to any of this--only comfort and very much that sense of "on our side" that you mentioned. Walking out arm-in-arm as they did in particular adds to that "us against the world" feeling and the not-so-subtle implication that while they were Michael Sheen and David Tennant on the season one press tour, here, now, they are Michael and David. Inseparable, always intertwined, and having so much more of themselves in the characters of Aziraphale and Crowley than in the first season.

So yes, everything you wrote absolutely did make sense, and I appreciate you writing in to share your thoughts with me. I have a lot more thoughts/analysis about GO season 2 still to share, which I hope to do in response to the numerous Anons still waiting in my inbox. Thanks for writing in! x

[animehouse-moe]

Welcome To Demon School! Iruma-Kun Volume 3: Flowers Blossoming In The Night

God, it's been two months already? I'm so used to the typical quarterly release of series that Kodansha's catchup schedule with Iruma has caught me completely off-guard, but I'm all for it since I get to read more of this series! And what a trip down memory lane it is. Crazy to think that it's only been 4 years since the anime started airing, it feels like it's been much longer than that. Anyways, enough of my reminiscing, let me talk details with this volume!

The more I tend to read in a single sitting, the more I tend to compare the art of various series to one another. It's not a great practice, as each artist is aiming for something different in the mix, but sometimes it can help in making me aware of things that I wasn't previously.

A really great example of this is character blocking or posing. It's definitely something you can easily take for granted, and might not always feel like something noteworthy to share (unless it's really good). But anyways, the point was in my reads throughout today, I read a few series that had rather stiff characters and designs. Comparing that with Nishi's already incredibly fluid art, I could really feel the difference and effort that went into character posing to match that fluidity. Something that really puts effort into providing a dynamic feel where applicable, which plays really well alongside Nishi's static and delayed approach to humor.

I know it's really bad to try and talk about something that's so difficult to properly be aware of and to explain, but just the posing and the little details with lines and whatnot adds a lot to how you perceive and react to the poses and drawings.

Also, the Clara moment is this volume! But before that, some anime content (since I've gone to grab a screenshot). The anime actually adds content to this sequence/chapter, and it's a really great addition in my opinion. When Clara's down and out after being mocked by her classmates she returns home, rather deflated. To cut a long story short, it's a really great addition that drives home the importance of family and how they can reflect on/help with the confidence of a high school student and the troubles that face them at school.

Also an all-in-one seduction attempt from Clara that proves nearly fatal for Kalego.

But! The all-important question, how does the anime version of the Clara scene compare to the manga?

Well, I don't want to say it's a non-contest, but I think the manga has the strongest essence and feel to it. For me, it mostly lies in the eyes. The manga version is just that bit more squinted/narrowed, which makes it feel more happy and playful, resulting in a far more effective and true visage for Clara.

Now, that's not to say that the anime's version is a wash, it's still great and really close to the manga. It also has the advantage of being able to build up to the moment better.

Moving on, I've talked at end about the expressiveness of Nishi's art, and how willing they are to get down and dirty with little differences in art and approach to characters and whatnot. With that in mind I'll spare the trouble of re-hashing that and instead turn my attention towards the messages of this volume.

Okay, maybe I lied a little. I just can't get enough of Nishi's range. Five total characters on the page, and all of them look so different. The shading, the use of color, they're all so varied. And most importantly, they're all so cute and fun.

Anyways, there's just so many and they're all so natural and well integrated that you can easily miss them. Things like Iruma starting to take agency in his own decisions and life (even if it is in the underworld where he may be eaten alive).

I think my two favorite moments from this volume in regards to messages though would be Iruma's run-in with Kiriwo, and Sully's conversation with the big 3. Both present such simple but impactful aspects for the characters and story at large.

With Kiriwo, while it is about Iruma finding someone "like him", it's got way more to it than that. It's about finding your place to belong, somewhere that you feel that it's okay to be yourself. Add on top of that its emphasis on equality and a desire to let everyone be equal, and it just speaks so much to Iruma as a character (thanks to his terrible childhood where he was powerless against the life he was forced into). Also, something something acting in an expected manner for the sake of popularity and acceptance.

Now with Sully, it's not really something directly relating to Iruma, but I still love it so much. With the chance to unanimously take the Demon King's Throne and rule over the underworld, something that countless Demons aspire towards, he casually shrugs it off for the sake of his (new, and definitely not kidnapped) grandson. Especially these days, and doubly so under the guise of Japanese work culture, denying an effective promotion that would (as Sully puts it) "take me away from my Grandson" just carries so much weight. Choosing family and happiness over accolades and achievements, it's a really admirable and heartwarming piece.

Just to re-wind a little, it's super great to see how strong and important Kalego's established to be as a character so early on. His hardline on the students about the importance of education, and the dangers of the world really is very strong right out the gates.

Anyways, I think I've made my point on this volume very well. It carries everything that I love about this story, and even without motion or all the other addition of an anime, displays and depicts it wonderfully to the reader. It's got the same energy and excitement, and all the same important and valuable pieces to it as well. Just always, always a good time. Can't wait for the next volume to drop (in two months!).

[archenemyintellegence]

"Prince" (15/2/2024)

I saw a photo of him on Pinterest and he's so fucking beautiful. I have to draw him even if it's mean I have to figure out the shiny pieces one by one.

This drawing was much more challenging than I expected, even when I draw it with a reference photo. I tried doing this because I want to use this as a warm up for me to go back to drawing (as I'm going through a hell lot... That's why the updates are so delayed here uggh), but literally everything in this drawing is a challenge.

First, the face. There's a shadow on his face and I seldom draw this kind of shadow on face. I have to figure out the colors to express the value + not making it look too spooky/ like blood dripping on the face. Also the beard. I NEVER DONE BEARD. It's so challenging because I don't see much beard irl so there's so little data in my head for me to work with. And the hair too. It's just black in the photo, but it can't be too dark or else it cannot match the fabulousness of his jacket.

And next, THE JACKET. Oh My God. This takes forever to draw. So many times I just wanted to trace the whole things but I resisted the temptation. I figured out the placement of the discs, one by one. It's not super accurate but it's good enough to work with. The rendering was like an endless boss fight. I had to zoom in so closely so I can do the details but at the same time not lost track of the big picture. It's also so challenging to figure out the colors, as I want to capture the rainbowy effect on his jacket, which caught my attention on the reference photo.

The guitar strap is literally the easiest thing in the drawing but still it's not that easy, as it's gold on purple, which two of the colors are both quite warm. I put lots of cold colors in the gold part so it won't stick to the purple part, but at the same time it has to have warm colors so it looks gold + reflections of the purple strap.

This drawing took me 42 hours to finish, and I didn't expect it to take this long at all. But tbh I didn't even think that I could finish it at the first place lmaooo. It's a fucking boss fight and I learned a lot from the drawing. I can see my improvements during the process, and I am also blown away by the improvement I've made, when comparing this to my other drawings. I've heard that color is the most difficult thing to master in drawing. I always agree with it and I am so feeling it in this drawing. I feel that every time I draw, I'm learning a little bit about colors, just enough to motivate me to finish the drawing. There're still so much more to explore about colors.

[wellthebardsdead]

Fools prayer pt10

Part 9 here

———

“Youre desperate, and yet you refuse to give in to your exhaustion… why do you do this to yourself?…”

Vivec: ugh… it… stinks… *blearily opens his eyes to see the dark, swirling skies of cold harbour beyond a balcony of blackened stone, and the long abandoned marital bed he’d once shared with his daedric husband* I may be desperate. But what choice to I have? Beyond which of the two evils I must surrender to, that is…

“Would it truely be so, terrible, to return to my embrace?… together we could defeat the Sharmat reborn, and obliterate all who stand in your way.”

Vivec: and you’d have all I swore to serve and protect, suffer beneath us…

“They abandoned you. They turned their backs on you the minute they had the chance. They left you to rot and squander away in the shadows. Cursing your name while you served them unknowingly.”

Vivec: hate me or love me, it was, and still is my duty to love and care for them, especially they whom the temple forgot and willingly forsaken. I cannot turn my back on th- *shudders feeling clawed but oddly soft hands slide over his shoulders and around his neck* them. *glances back slowly to see the long dark hair and pale blue grey skin of one of molag bals more handsome forms, the prince very obviously trying to play to the living gods love for beauty*

Molag Bal: *slowly and carefully shifts Vehk around to face him in his embrace as his leathery tail curls around his torso and draws him in closer* They turned theirs, on you. *slides his hands up their neck and pauses for a moment before moving up further to hold his face. As if contemplating giving into his nature for a brief second and squeezing the life out him*

Vivec: *sighs and leans into his touch, too tired to bother pulling away, the exhaustion from his long and difficult life clear on his face* and if they didn’t they’d be cast out, punished or killed… I hold no blame to them… *closes his eyes as the prince strokes his cheek with his thumb, as if wiping away tears cried long ago* why are you bothering me now when you’ve been so distant in my dreams?…

Molag Bal: Would you rather I let him come to you again? And let his lies tempt you further into his hands?

Vivec: You say that as if you are the better option… *smiles and opens his eyes looking up at him* once again… which of the two evils must I choose?…

“Vehk?…”

Vivec: *jolts awake with a sharp breath to find nerevar leaning over him, his hand stroking his face and smoothing his hair back from the cold sweat glistening across his gold and blue skin* N-neht? Whats happened? Are you alright? Did he come back?

Nerevar: shhh, I’m okay… I was doing to ask the same thing, I woke up and you were trembling in your sleep. Did he come back?

Vivec: *smiles as a calm and serene expression crosses his face, one nerevar saw him wear plenty of times when he walked as the nerevarine, an expression he now knew was just a mask to hide deeper concern and pain* no… just, revisiting an uncomfortable experience… I’m fine.

Nerevar: *furrows his brow and shakes his head with a deep sigh* you’re lying to me.

Vivec: only partially, don’t concern yourself with it, just know it wasn’t Voryn causing me discomfort this time… *looks out the window to see the grey sky turning a pale red with the rising sun* we have a lot more we need to worry about than my affairs…

[m0rbs]

Question.. how do you draw Kirk… I’m trying to make him babygirl but it’s not working. 😔

Oh god I never saw this post. Honestly Kirk is incredibly difficult for me to draw but I love him so much I do it anyway. Ok. First things first

Eyes. Happy but sort of half lidded. Essential.

Face! Soft and round, but surprisingly defined!

Mouth! Smooth shapes and a little crooked, and make sure it squishes or creases at the sides. I actually smile just like Kirk does but that doesn’t make it any easier to draw.

Nose. Again, rounded shapes but still with definition, there’s a curve to the upper part of his nose bridge and then it’s pretty smooth

Hair curl is essential. Defining trait. His hair’s neatly combed but fluffy. I also like to add that little smile line off the side of the nose.

Add the neck, and there you are. It’s thicker and doesn’t curve a lot.

This isn’t my best drawing of him because it was very rushed but I hope it gets the idea across?? If you just follow the same soft and wide pattern for the rest of the body it works pretty well too. And keep in mind that he’s got very squishy love handles that don’t smoothly fit into the waist of his pants. I love this guy’s shape

[worldstogetlostin]

WIP Questionnaire

Thanks @wintherlywords for the tag, this looks like fun! I've left a copy of the clean slate of questions below

Rules: Answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can.

1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created? The first part of the TGATWST I wrote was one of the endings of the three stories in the book lol, jumping right to the end. It's a scene where there is rain falling on a man's face and he, being in love with a god, feels it as an embrace from his lover - very sentimental and a bit mushy but what can I say, I'm a sucker for romance.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? I think it would be like the music from The Hobbit or LoTR! Very instrumental and powerful, something that could move you.

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why? Oop that would be like picking a favourite child and I'm not going into too much detail on this WWIP as of yet (still in the very early stages and wondering if it will survive) but I definitely have characters whose voices I have figured out better than others.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story? The Hobbit, LoTR seeing as they're huge inspirations for me in everything I do lol. Maybe the inheritance Cycle and books like it? Honestly difficult to imagine anything I write having a fan base but if I had to give it a vibe I'd go with those!

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP? Motivation, every time. I have a demanding job and exams and I'm currently in the legal process of getting a house so lots of exciting things going on that usually mean I have no energy left for writing!

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! Horses, cows and beasts lol, the WIP is set in medieval times (fantasy of course) so animals are a big part of the world, but not a huge part of the actual story.

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.) Horses, walking, some carriages for those with a little extra coin who fancy living the high life

8. What part of your WIP are you working on rn? The end of the beginning, and the beginning of the middle, which is a strange sentence to write.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your WIP do you think will draw people in? Gods and mortals and the relationships between them, found family vibes, self-loathing characters finding redemption, soldiers finding and losing faith, and lots of queer representation

10. What are your hopes for your WIP? That I can actually finish it and have it be something I am proud of.

I'll go ahead and tag (with no pressure) @verba-writing @elizaellwrites @writingmoth and @ceph-the-ghost-writer and anyone else who wants to have a go!

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

[denis-local]

god i havent asked questions in a WHILE but its mainly cuz ive been somewhat busy dealing with my horrible grades and having to fix them up. But now that they're foxed, i can finally have the time to ask questions, and they're for the new comic!!

1. who the hell was the guy Glevil choked?

2. Also confused on who's the big teeth lousy gal. Kinda lost track of my NPCS.

3. Will we get ref's/designs for the names/characters that Glevil mentioned, like for example; Arther?

4. Is there an exact reason on why Glevil is in so much denial?

5. What are the names of the two other mannequins?

6. Christ, is it me or did Boots' boots, well, now they're heels, get taller!?

7. I gotta say though, Boots looks so girlie pop. (/pos)

8. "You all made the choice to leave home!" and a few panels later, "You should be at home!" and I can't really tell if it's just an error, because my brain goes 'Wait a sec is it talking about like, they moved from their old home, Boots' is somewhere else?? Or huh??' so I kinda just want some confirmation on that!! (/lh)

9. What happened to Boots' hands-- (/genq)

10. To add onto #9, Jesus, what happened to Boots' face in some of the panels?? (again, /genq)

11. Can't tell what they're trying to do in the last frame, pull Glevil away? To be honest to me it kinda looks like Glevil's torso is bein' ripped off a bit, since it looks tilted.

thas all i have for now!!

Ah yeah Q&A tiem

1. Just a random player, Glevil just has a kill count y'know

2. It was Bive, she's just being herself y'know

3. Those are just example names and references to the other names that were in a naming competition for the green hat mannequin (Larch) we had in the Discord server. So if they were to get any ref sheets it'd be by the people who put in those names. If they want of course.

4. Not sure what this one means, but I'm assuming you mean by Boots being infected? Glevil isn't exactly in denial, at the time they had never seen such a virus especially one thay physically and mentally changed someone.

5. The green hat mannequin with the necklace is Larch (OC) and the purple hat one is Jim (NPC)

6. Boots has always been taller even in Regretevator, they tower over everyone. So naturally they still do haha.

7. They absolutely serve I know haha

8. I like to think in Regretevator, the mannequins all originate from one place (probably the backroom of the lobby) and that a lot of mannequins left that 'home' to go anywhere they want to like Mark and the gang who now do wood work! Naturally I'm gonna add all my HCs to my AU haha

9. After being infected they turned into stubs. Glevil and the others were very terrified of this at first.

10. Added some dramatic shadowing dw haha

11. Yeah it was difficult to draw that one I must admit, but they were trying to pull Glevil away or Boots off of them.