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jenscx · 2 months

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LUCID DREAM — ning yizhuo

it’s been years without ning yizhuo in your life. it feels surreal; the day you walked out without an explanation. but just the thought of being able to see her again, it draws you back into the endless loop of loving her.

TAGS — angst, exes to ???, insecurity, model!ning, ambiguous ending, mentions of alcohol, making up, jmj wedding (we don’t actually get to witness it tho)

WORDCOUNT — 7.4k

you stare at the wedding invitation, written neatly at the top, the invitation is addressed to a ning y/n. you want to cry. the invitation clearly stating your ex’s name makes your heart clench uncomfortably. it’s a blaring reminder that your relationship ended and you’re no longer living in your childhood fantasy.

“fuck,” you swear, “fuck you, kim minjeong.” you want to murder minjeong, but who were you to ask minjeong to stop reminding you of your bitter ending? especially since it was your own impulsiveness that had ended the relationship. you could have been more understanding towards yizhuo, could have tried her best to resolve your conflict, but no. instead, you ran. ran like the coward you were.

you remember the brokenhearted look on yizhuo’s face, the devastated glimmer in her eyes before she had flipped her expression to another, like a switch. or more like a broken one, your brain offers unhelpfully. of course, the quiver of her lips had given yizhuo away almost immediately. you had known yizhuo for a third of your life, obviously you could tell when your soulmate– or in this case, ex, was about to break down.

you wish you had stayed, and simply comforted your soulmate like old times, but you couldn’t bear to watch yizhuo cry, because of you. you remember the look on your friends’ faces when you told them that you broke up with yizhuo, all the words they had yelled at her for betraying yizhuo. you remember the anger directed at you by yizhuo’s parents when you had sent them an apology letter. through the post, yizhuo had told you, letters felt more sincere than emails.

but perhaps the worst reaction wasn’t from any of them, it was simply from your own cat. meowing viciously when you had picked him up, bringing him together with you. the scratches lining your arms only serve as a constant reminder. mao, your british short haired, was desperately attached to yizhuo (and she was the one who named him too. what absolute luck.) his hostility could only be reasoned that he knew his owner had hurt yizhuo. if a silly little cat knew the extent of the breakup, what could that mean for you?

“wallowing in your grief again? that’s not good for you,” you peer up at chaewon, the only friend that somehow wasn’t connected to yizhuo. chaewon takes a quick glance at the invitation and giggles, “you’re going? i hope you survive, you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet.”

you merely sigh.

“the place’s gonna be filled with people who hate my guts, you really think i’m going? minjeong probably only sent this to piss me off.”

chaewon frowns, “you don’t seem pissed off, just sad. honey, you have to let me know if they’re bothering you, like actually. it’s not your fault, well– maybe it is, but you’re suffering too. it isn’t nice for them to do this to you.” you shrug in response. you deserve it. you deserve every stab in your heart, you deserve the tears that escape in the middle of the night.

“let’s drink tonight, okay? we’ll put on titanic or something and cry about life while eating ice cream,” chaewon offers. maybe it’s the thought of getting drunk, or titanic, or crying in your friend’s arms, but the offer is appealing and you find yourself agreeing too soon.

you can hear chaewon do a silent cheer. it makes you smile slightly and gives you enough energy to pull yourself up from the floor.

“i’ll go get the soju, just lie on the couch and relax!” you follow as your friend says and lie on the sofa you had picked out together after mao’s claws had sunk into the leather, ripping it to shreds. the cat was a brat.

doesn’t this remind you of something– or someone? the voice in your head quips. you groan, why couldn’t your head shut up sometimes? your heart drops as you recall the conversation between your parents when you had told them you broke things off with yizhuo. you remember your mother’s expression; disappointed and upset, a stark contrast to when you had told her that you finally found someone. the proud look on your father’s when you introduced yizhuo to them, god, why the fuck was yizhuo such an amazing girlfriend?

you caused this. you want to scream ‘no’. you’re the one who dumped yizhuo. who are you to be upset over thi–

“y/n? hey, stop thinking about it,” chaewon pouts, “don’t make yourself even more sad!” you blink back into reality and at the sight of chaewon puffing her cheeks out, holding two bottles of soju and a large bowl of popcorn, make you want to coo at the girl. you push the thoughts of yizhuo to the back of your head as soon as the opening to titanic appears on the screen.

you two laugh sometimes, mostly chaewon, but it’s quiet throughout the movie and you can’t tell whether you’d rather have chaewon’s comments about how cute the actors are or the silence that allows you to delve deeper into your thoughts. you take a sip whenever chaewon mentions how in love jack and rose are.

when you blink, it’s already at the part where jack allows rose to get onto the wooden door, while he stays in the freezing water. chaewon throws popcorn at the tv, apparently already drunk, screaming at rose to quote, “fucking move her ass,” for jack to get on. you take a large gulp of soju in the midst of chaewon’s sniffles.

“y/n…i can’t believe it… she just let jack die!” chaewon cries out, “the love of her life, she just let him go! how could she just let him die?!” you nod, trying to drink the already empty bottle of soju.

when you stand up, the whole room swirls and you stumble back onto the couch. “don’t let her go, y/n!” you jump at the close proximity of chaewon’s voice, “don’t let the love of your life go!”

you hum in agreement and scream, “i won’t let her go!” determined, you pick up your phone and the selfie of you and yizhuo greets her. you miss her, don’t you? of course not. you don’t miss her at all. change your homescreen then. you wouldn’t.

you roll your eyes and enter kakaotalk.

y/n [11.38pm]:

i kiss you

i miss you*

read [11.39pm]

“i did it, chaewon!” you exclaim, “i didn’t let her go!”

drunk you is apparently an idiot, since we all know, if a ‘i love you’ can’t solve a crack, obviously a ‘i miss you’ wouldn’t be able to solve an earthquake.

i miss you too. i miss you so much it hurts. but how could you say that, when you’re the one that left me first? yizhuo doesn’t cry as much anymore. she doesn’t sob into her pillow in the middle of the night anymore. the couple posts that appear on her instagram feed doesn’t make tears well up in her eyes anymore.

it still hurts. hurts as much as it did before. and yizhuo might just have to live with that pain everyday. the misspelt word makes her heart throb, in affection and pain, because she could imagine your voice in her head. are you hurting as much as she is? it doesn’t make the stabbing pain in her chest any better to know that the one she loves is suffering.

yizhuo stares at the glaring light from her phone. i miss you. really y/n? she wants to scoff. you were probably drunk out of your mind and sent that text on a whim. or maybe it was meant for another girl. the thought makes yizhuo want to cry.

is there someone else you call ‘baby' now?

fuck, you think, oh fuck. the read blaring on your phone, as if mocking you.

“shit,” chaewon groans, holding her head, “what happened last night? did we accidentally kill someone?” you wish you did. you take a deep breath, and scream. if the neighbours show up the next moment, it’s totally because of the night before, and not your scream at 8 in the morning.

you calm down. eventually. you calm down after chaewon grabs your shoulders and wiggles you back and forth, yelling for you to get your shit together. it only worsens the raging headache the both of you have. if rent wasn’t so high nowadays, you would have immediately fled and lived alone. kim chaewon with a hangover was not a good sight.

“whatever! you drunk texted your ex! whatever! hashtag yolo right— ah fuck, the room is spinning,” chaewon shrieks, “ugh, why did we drink so much?! but! your life isn’t over! so what if you texted her? it’s okay, we stay delusional and pretend things never happened!”

despite the wacky talk chaewon gives, it actually helps. texting yizhuo, while drunk, was a mistake. you nod hastily, “i get what you’re saying, but please let me go.”

chaewon loosens her grip, pursed lips as she huffs, “the most badass thing you can do now is go to the wedding.”

your eyes widen, “what the hell? kim chaewon, are you crazy? no, you’re insane.”

your roommate only grins lazily, “it came with a plus one invite, right? i’ll go with you. it’ll be okay! and don’t you wanna see your friends again?”

“i do, but most of them hate my guts,” you wince, recalling the angry messages left by aeri and minjeong, none from jimin, that probably speaks for itself what she thought of you, “they were yizhuo’s friends first, and mine second. when it comes to things like this, they would, rightfully so, take yizhuo’s side.”

chaewon whistles, “yeah it’s not looking too good for you right now.”

you flop onto the couch, sighing, “if i see yizhuo, i’ll freeze up and make a fool of myself.” your hands fly to rub at your eyes, groaning miserably, “i guess i’m not over her.”

chaewon slides into the space next to you, scoffing, “you think? having her number saved and pinned is crazy and the last time we talked before this, you were in love with her. what happened?”

your heart constricts painfully. you never spoke about your breakup to anyone, only asking chaewon if she still needed someone to split rent with. the moment you had uttered those words, you had left the shared apartment with yizhuo, not turning back to watch the love of your life collapse.

“i…” your throat dries up, “i was in love with her, i guess i still am. i don’t doubt that she felt the same for me, but maybe not anymore. our relationship was the best thing to ever happen to me. the happiest years of my life were when i was with yizhuo. she made me feel alive.”

tears prick at your eyes involuntarily. chaewon’s gaze is full of pity and comfort. sympathy. no one else gave you that.

“she wanted to get married, chaewon,” you whisper, “she was ready for marriage. i wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“i saw her looking at engagement rings one day and god, it was like, how have i never noticed before? she always shows me videos of weddings and how she would want her wedding to be like, but i never stopped to think whether i wanted marriage. i didn’t know what i would say if yizhuo just proposed. would it have hurt less for her if i said no rather than breaking up with her?”

chaewon presses a comforting hand to your shoulder, sighing, “i’m sorry, i literally see two of you right now but i’ll try to articulate this as best as i can.” her words draw out a hollow laugh from you. “you just weren’t ready yet, and yeah, you should have communicated that to her before jumping in to break up, but have you ever thought that you weren’t ready because you didn’t love her enough?”

you swallow, tears flowing down your cheeks freely, “n-no, i love her. she’s my favourite person. i love her so much, too much even. but getting married? that’s a lifelong commitment. i just didn’t know if she was sure that she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with… me. she has her whole life figured out. she’s a rich model who could have anyone else. we were childhood friends first, before girlfriends. and now she’s certain that she wants to marry me? what if there’s someone better for her out there? she’s only been chained to me because we got together so young. i just… had to let her go.”

“commitment issues,” chaewon states, “you have severe commitment issues.”

“i guess so,” you let out a watery laugh. your roommate chuckles, “you want her back?”

“yeah, i’m desperate.”

“let’s go to the wedding.”

you send a small smile to chaewon, “thanks, roomie.”

“i saw the invite by the way, and damn, are your friends rich? don’t get me wrong, i’m going as your moral support but the free buffet too—”

“i’m literally going to strangle you.”

yizhuo twirls the pen in her hand, watching it glide across her fingers and abruptly landing on the wooden table with a thud. she couldn’t stand seeing all the wedding preparations and chose to hide in jimin’s study. the door creaks open, a figure stands by the doorway.

“hello jimin unnie, aren’t you meant to be looking over the finishing touches of your wedding?” yizhuo asks, her smile dimming as she thinks about marriage. jimin frowns, “minjeong’s doing that. she told me to come check up on you.”

“me?”

“i know how you feel about weddings. we all do,” jimin says bluntly. yizhuo’s lips fall into a thin line. of course her friends were aware. they helped pick out the ring for god’s sake. the weight of a velvet box lying in her bedside table haunts her dreams.

yizhuo stands up from her desk, inching closer to jimin, a faux smile on her face, “you don’t have to worry about me. it’s your special day after all.”

“not yet, but let me worry about my friend for a while more before i get married,” jimin mutters, “minjeong sent an invite to y/n.” yizhuo’s whole body tenses up. a blurry image of you appears in her brain. she immediately shuts that down.

biting the inside of her cheek, yizhuo turns away from jimin with folded arms, “and? did she say she was coming?”

yizhuo hears jimin’s hesitance.

“just say it.”

jimin clears her throat, “she’s coming with a plus one.”

a distant thought forms. a plus one. your new girlfriend? did you find someone else? were you coming to the wedding to flaunt your new lover? yizhuo wasn’t dumb, she knew that her friends disliked you, heavily. minjeong most definitely sent out that invitation with disgust. jimin told her what minjeong had said to you. aeri had barely brushed it off, saying you weren’t worth her time scolding, despite the chain of messages she sent. she knew that you were aware they hated you. why would you come to the wedding?

“i-i’m not sure what’s their relationship, but her name is kim chaewon and oh my god, minjeong’s gonna kill me, y/n requested for a shared hotel room,” jimin utters out nervously. yizhuo’s eyes turn into slits. a shared hotel room?

“i see,” yizhuo says indifferently, contrasting the feelings bubbling inside her, “that’s good to know.”

jimin places a hand on yizhuo’s shoulder, “hey, it could all mean nothing, i don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“does it matter when i’m already like this?” yizhuo retorts back.

“i hope you don’t do anything stupid. before everything, you’re still my friend. if y/n showing up makes you uncomfortable, i’ll tell her she’s not invited,” jimin says softly, “minjeong will understand. you come first.”

“it’s your wedding, jimin. i won’t be a burden to you guys. it’s your day,” yizhuo mirrors jimin’s frown.

jimin’s shoulders slack.

“it’s not about that,” the older girl retorts, exasperated.

“what is it about then?”

“i don’t think minjeong will stay neutral and be calm when she sees y/n,” jimin groans, “she’ll probably pick a fight with her and i don’t want my wife to be stressed and angry on her wedding day.”

yizhuo can’t help teasing jimin, “wife, huh?”

jimin smirks, “yes, wife. you know last week, minjeong called me—”

“oh kay! i think you should go!” yizhuo yells, saving herself from the details of her friends’ intimate lives. jimin cackles maniacally as she leaves the study. yizhuo sighs and leans her head against the wooden door. jimin’s footsteps can be heard as she walks downstairs, along with the voices of her friends. they’re all scattered and anxious, she hears the distant shouting of minjeong and aeri. despite the noise around her, yizhuo feels somewhat at peace. for now. she doesn’t know what she’s going to do the moment you come to the wedding.

because despite what everyone else says, yizhuo cannot move on. you were literally half of her life and more. when you had uttered those words of devastation, it was like the world had ended. a terrible nightmare that tortured yizhuo every single day. was she too overbearing? sometimes— well, last time, you had mentioned that she was a very affectionate and clingy girlfriend. was that the sole reason? yizhuo frowns. no, that couldn’t be. you were equally as physically needy as her.

maybe you had found someone new? the plus one that was coming? that didn’t seem plausible either. if you were cheating, yizhuo would most definitely know and you abhorred cheaters anyway.

as she wrecked her mind for reasons, a common past time she developed after you had left, the constant rewinding of the conversation had been engraved in her brain eternally.

(yizhuo had just gotten off work, a smile on her face as she entered the house, heels clacking against the floor. the thought of you waiting at home impatiently for her only brought her smile to widen. maybe you would run up to her and embrace her warmly, complaining about how long she took. yet, neither of those happened and she’s left staring at you, hunched over, at the dining table, a suitcase packed by your side.

“what are you doing?” she had asked curiously. were you going on a trip? begrudgingly, you had gotten up, a sombre look on your face as you whispered, “yizhuo…”

that ticked yizhuo off. you never called her yizhuo. it was always baby, honey, sweetheart. but never yizhuo. it sounded so foreign and cold coming from your lips.

“what’s wrong? is everything okay?” she asked.

your face contorts into one of utter desperation and heartbreak, “i think we should break up.”

yizhuo’s mind had gone blank. she had never anticipated hearing those words from you. break up? that wasn’t in her future with you. her heart clenched uncomfortably against her ribcage and her throat constricted, to the point she couldn’t mutter a single word.

taking advantage of her silence, you run your fingers through your hair, the hair that yizhuo would so lovingly comb through every night as she whispered words of devotion into your ear, “i want to break up.”

“no.” is the only thing yizhuo can say. wide-eyed and stupefied, “no.”

you look as stunned as she is, yet the stark difference between the two of you, are the tears that threaten to tip over at every passing second in your eyes.

“yizhuo,” you pleaded, “i’m sorry. i can’t.”

“why are you doing this?” she croaked out, demanding an answer. the weight of the velvet box in her purse felt like it was dragging her down to the darkest pits of hell. she couldn’t imagine something like this ever happening. you were meant to be her happily ever after.

“i—”

yizhuo couldn’t stand it anymore. “tell me why you want to break up!” she yelled, the confusion and fatigue of her body overwhelming everything.

“i… please… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“you don’t love me anymore? you found someone else?” yizhuo accused. of course, none of these were the true reasons. you couldn’t even look at yizhuo in the eye before murmuring an apology again and grasping the suitcase in your hand.

“i love you,” you had whispered at the door, “i’m sorry.”

yizhuo doesn’t even respond. pure shock overtaking her as she watched you leave. the moment the door had closed, sobs took over yizhuo as she collapsed on the floor, heartbroken and devastated at losing the love of her life.

if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have left so easily.)

that statement plagues yizhuo’s mind for the next few years. it replays in her head repeatedly, like a broken mantra. she knows that it’s unhealthy; to be thinking of you every night before she succumbs to a dreamless sleep. yet, sometimes, yizhuo prays that she might be dreaming, and when she wakes up, you would be right by her side. jimin thinks she should get a therapist. but yizhuo doesn’t want to get over you. she fears that you might just become a hazy memory, lost in anger and grief. she doesn’t want that to happen. because despite everything, the pain you have caused her, she still loves you.

it’s strange, the way love works. yizhuo hates you for doing this to her; ruining her for anyone else because if they even bore a similar trait to you, she would just break down. like the blind date aeri had set her up on long ago. fresh out of the breakup, and with extreme bribery and convincing, yizhuo had met shen xiaoting, one of aeri’s friends, over dinner. aeri had said that maybe yizhuo needed someone closer to her culture, and with the homesickness she felt constantly, the lack of comforting words that you provided, yizhuo agreed.

that date was the whole reason aeri stopped asking yizhuo to go on blind dates, for when xiaoting had mentioned that she liked cats, yizhuo had started bawling, the memory of you playing with your own pet cursing her mind.

it was embarrassing to say the least, and even more embarrassing to explain to xiaoting that it wasn’t her fault. the poor girl had thought yizhuo had something against cats. aeri apologised endlessly as yizhuo cried, with an awkward xiaoting patting her shoulder. at least they became friends.

maybe, with the support of her friends, yizhuo would be able to stand the sight of you at the wedding. it would be totally fine! and if she sees you with someone new, maybe, just maybe, it would give her the motivation to finally get over you.

honestly, screw everything. you literally hate chaewon right now. thankfully, jimin and minjeong had provided a one night stay at the hotel. your apartment (and mao) was being taken care of by sakura, one of chaewon’s friends. there was apparently a party before the actual day. you assumed they would just want a shared bachelorette party. however, your self-proclaimed wingman was cozying up to one of the guests. by her straight posture and gentle expression, she was probably nakamura kazuha from high school. yizhuo was friends with her, you remember.

you couldn’t believe that all those words of encouragement had flown out the window the moment chaewon locked eyes with the ‘love of her life’. you roll your eyes, already annoyed with your friend. somehow, you still hadn’t spotted yizhuo amongst the crowd.

most of them, you didn’t recognise. some, from high school and college. the rest, probably family members. maybe some faces stood out, like shin ryujin from history class or jang wonyoung, the valedictorian. but mostly, unrecognisable. from the various mops of hair in the crowd, you spot uchinaga aeri’s infamous smirk. you wonder where the rest of the group are.

you sigh, taking a lonely sip of the champagne they provided. at least it was good.

chaewon’s obnoxious laughter fills the area. it’s loud and irritating, or maybe you’re just easily annoyed right now. kazuha just stares at her, all confused. it’s a little funny.

“y/n.” a steely voice rings out from the crowd. you whip your head, heart racing at the familiar but dreadful tone.

“oh,” you whisper, horror-stricken. you weren’t prepared to meet them now!

the older girl merely stares at you, before you bow your head hesitantly, “congratulations on your marriage.”

jimin visibly loosened up, her eyes twinkling and shining with adoration, “thank you.” perhaps out of all of yizhuo’s friends, jimin was the one who hated you the least. she didn’t bother scolding you or cursing you out, only choosing to glare at you.

“i think we should talk,” she finally says after a moment of silence. you wholeheartedly agree with her. if you were meant to see yizhuo tomorrow, you definitely needed another friend that wasn’t chaewon.

she brings you out of the function room, the starry night sky being the only company outside. jimin takes a long gulp of her champagne.

“why’d you really break up with yizhuo?”

the patiently and dedicated stitches of a sewed wound are ripped apart, directly exposing your bleeding heart and emotions. everything comes falling apart the moment she asks. you can only stare at her.

“i… i made a mistake,” you shake your head, “i wasn’t ready.”

jimin, patient as always, hums, urging you to continue.

“she wanted to get married. i didn’t,” you say, with grief and regret lacing your every word, because everything would be fine if you had just talked to yizhuo.

“we helped her pick out the ring,” jimin adds. you only feel more guilty.

“i can’t give her the life she wants, unnie,” the endearing term of intimacy slips out, a cry filled with desperation, “she deserves the world and i can’t give her that.”

“you were her world. it’s that simple. she only ever wanted you.”

hurt gnaws at your heart, it’s palpitating with raw stabs that echo of your heartbreak.

“i don’t deserve her,” you sigh, “i had to let her go. i couldn’t bear to see the look on her face if i refused her engagement.”

jimin nods, “i understand your fear. but i hate the fact that this could have been solved with an explanation.”

you groan, anger coursing through your veins. you were so upset and narrow-minded at the time. the only solution was to seemingly break up with yizhuo. it would spare her the everlasting pain from a rejection of her proposal.

“i know, i just couldn’t at that time.”

the older girl tries to smile. it’s akin to one of those encouraging ones she would give right before an exam or test. it sparks a shiver of nostalgia.

“jagiya, where are you— oh.”

jimin quickly straightens up, swiftly turning around to face minjeong with a grin, “hey, mindoong.”

you tense up, your fingers wrapping around the glass tightly.

“glad you could make it,” minjeong’s eyes flicker up and down your body, venom evident in her tone as she hisses, “y/n.”

nodding, you reply, “thank you for inviting me.”

the tension is overbearing; with minjeong’s glares, jimin’s beaming smile and your awkward shuffling, you couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of your hotel room.

“where’s your girlfriend?” minjeong suddenly asks. you stare at her, confused, “my what?”

jimin’s eyes widen as she hastily pulls minjeong aside, frantically whispering in her ear. but like the past, jimin has never been a good whisperer. you catch phrases like ‘she might not be her girlfriend’ and ‘what if yizhuo hears?’. a looming sensation brews in your stomach.

“kim chaewon? is that her name?” minjeong asks harshly, “didn’t take you to like korean girls, i thought you liked chinese girls instead.”

you’re visibly taken aback. what was minjeong saying? chaewon? your girlfriend? since when was chaewon your girlfriend?

“uh,” despite your fear of minjeong yelling at you, your words come out firmly, “chaewon isn't my girlfriend.”

minjeong falters slightly before scoffing, “yeah right. you don’t have to lie now. we all know that you left yizhuo for some other girl.”

your heart stops. what?

what was she saying?

leaving yizhuo for another girl?

“i— i would never… that’s—”

“minjeong unnie, that’s enough.”

you’ve thought of this moment forever. every single day after the break up. you’ve thought of running back into her arms, apologising endlessly for even thinking of breaking up with her. you’ve thought of how she would accept you graciously with murmurs of comfort, because that was just how she was. a gracious and generous girl who deserved the world. you’ve thought of her bright smile and gleaming eyes.

you’ve never thought of her staring at you, a dull and saddened look on her face.

“ning—”

“minjeong unnie,” she pleads, “please.”

the watery gaze must have swayed minjeong over. you would know, having fallen prey to her puppy eyes before. yizhuo slides the door open, watching intently as minjeong and jimin leave.

“good luck,” jimin whispers just before she steps away. you think you need all the luck in the world right now.

yizhuo lets out a heavy sigh once the door slides closed. she gazes at you for a second. you’re taken back to your younger days, where every day was spent just staring at yizhuo. you had proclaimed confidently that yizhuo was the most gorgeous girl on earth. you aren’t wrong. the years you spent apart from her had done her generously. it had only been two, yet, yizhuo looked more mature and sure of herself.

“did you really find someone new?” she whispers, shattering the glass of ignorance. you swallow, shaking your head, “no.”

yizhuo thinks back to the drunken message you had sent.

“was that on purpose? that text you sent,” she asks, eyes wide and afraid of your answer.

you shake your head again, “i was drunk. i’m sorry.”

“i hate you, you know that right?” yizhuo says. before, you had imagined the piercing stab of pain that came with those words. you had thought it would be the end of your life, with the girl you loved the most saying she hated you.

it’s understandable now, and inevitable.

“i know,” you whisper.

yizhuo continues to stare at you. somehow, this all feels like a fever dream, one that she’ll wake up from soon. it feels unreal to have you in front of her again.

she takes in the sight of you, memorising every detail for if you leave again.

“why’d you come then?”

there are many reasons that you can say, with varying degrees of truthfulness; to congratulate jimin and minjeong, to see your friends again, to just visit your hometown.

“i wanted to see you.” it’s the truthest thing you’ve ever said.

“you can’t,” yizhuo inhales sharply, “yo-you can’t just show up like this.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

your head hangs lowly.

“tell me the real reason why you left.”

you had expected this.

she would want closure.

your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“i… yizhuo…”

“tell me.” it feels similar to your past.

yizhuo looks as beautiful as ever. she’s the only thing you can think of right now. her lips are moving, yet you don’t hear a single thing.

“i didn’t want marriage.”

oh.

the girl’s eyebrows furrow. her eyes turning into slits of anger as she takes in a deep breath. you know she’s about to start tearing up. maybe you should quickly explain yourself.

it’s your only chance.

“i saw you looking at engagement rings and i knew i wouldn’t be ready if you got down on one knee. you’re a model, for god’s sake. you had a prospering career, being tied down to someone like me wouldn’t bring you any benefits,” you finally say. it’s not the full reason why, but you hope yizhuo would understand even a semblance of your choice.

“i know that it’s a shitty excuse. i know that i’m a coward. but what else was i meant to do?”

yizhuo huffs.

“talked to me. you could have talked to me.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“would that stop me from breaking your heart?”

the love of your life stands before you. yet, it seems like the only words of devotion you’ll exchange is how devoted she is to hating you. yizhuo crosses her arms, frowning, “yes. i’d much rather have a minute of heartbreak than years of it. you’re such a prick.”

“yizhuo—”

“no, you don’t get to do this,” she points a finger at your chest, prodding the area where your head resides ferociously, “you can’t just come back, explain yourself with an extremely stupid reason, and expect that i would be okay with it. you sent me a drunk text, saying you missed me. how come i don’t feel anything?”

“i love you, yizhuo. i just did what i thought was right in that moment—”

the only thing you can hear is your heart shattering into pieces at the sight of tears falling down her face. yizhuo sniffles, her voice becoming shrill as she adds on, “you’re an asshole. you think you’re the only one in this relationship? you didn’t even explain yourself properly. you think you’re making the right choices for us? for me?”

you continue to stare at her blankly.

the next words come out like a gunshot, “then you don’t know me at all.”

it snaps onto your skin, leaving a scathing burn and engraving ning yizhuo’s name into your body. your insides coil up painfully. hearing yizhuo’s cries as you left years ago had been torturous, but nothing beats her breaking down in front of you right this instant. you’re overcome with a striking urge to pull her into your arms and whisper words of affection into her ears, promising her to never leave. the pet name leaves your mouth quicker than you can think.

“baby—”

a sharp stinging sensation sears in your right cheek. you can feel the affected area heating up, scorching hot and red. yizhuo’s handprint is evident, singed in your skin.

an onslaught of tears rises, but you’re determined to not let them fall.

“okay,” you whisper, unable to say anything else to the equally stunned yizhuo, “i’ll leave. i’m sorry.”

the girl just stands outside in the cold, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks rosy from the wind. before you go, the slight shiver that runs through her body makes you hesitate. the comfort of your jacket feels like a heavy burden now.

maybe you would get slapped again. but at least yizhuo wouldn’t be cold.

gently taking it off, you encase yizhuo in your jacket, biting your cheek (which still hurts!) to resist a smile at how it covers her small figure. she gazes at you like a deer caught in headlights. you sigh and try to move your legs, but they feel like jelly. with much difficulty, you finally make it to the door, using the frame to stabilise your wobbly walking.

when you turn back, yizhuo isn’t staring at you, but she’s staring at the night sky, more specifically, the moon. you take one last look at her. the weight on your shoulders is gone now. and all that is left is a longing feeling to have yizhuo back in your arms again. but maybe, you could live with that.

sliding the door open, you go back into the function room. the crowd had dispersed, leaving just a few people chatting around. you spot jimin and minjeong talking while drinking. aeri’s at the bar, engaged in a conversation with a waitress. chaewon, god bless her, is relatively nearby, while kazuha is nowhere to be found.

“chaewon,” you breathe out, relieved. she turns to you, startled, “oh damn, what happened to your face? you look a little…”

“i know,” you laugh dryly, “i think it’s time for us to leave and go to sleep now.”

chaewon doesn’t argue and instead nods, her eyes drawn to the reddening mark across your cheek. even in the dark light, she could still notice the imprints of someone’s fingers.

“she slapped you?” she asks while you head towards the elevator.

“yeah,” you scratch the back of your neck, “we kind of… argued.”

chaewon laughs heartily at your misfortune. you’re glad at least this brings someone joy. maybe minjeong too. she would love to see you in pain.

“i think you should get some rest buddy,” she pats your back. you nod, feeling as if sleep was just an arm’s reach away.

the conversation with yizhuo had drained you significantly, both mentally and physically. and maybe you should put some ointment on the red area too. you might wake up with a bruise or something tomorrow.

the urge to flop into bed is too strong as chaewon slides the keycard into the slot. the door opens, revealing a luxurious hotel suite with a king-sized bed. you remember requesting for a shared room. it was to mainly prevent yourself from doing anything reckless when drunk. you’d have chaewon to keep you grounded.

“did you get kazuha’s number?” you ask as chaewon throws her face cleanser at you. the girl giggles, “yeah. she’s so cute.”

you subtly cringe at the lovestruck look in her eyes.

groaning, you head into the bathroom. your eyes widen as you prod at your cheek, shocked that yizhuo landed such a heavy hit. damn, has she been going to the gym lately? the yizhuo back then barely had any strength to resist your tickles. there wasn’t any surging hot anger left from yizhuo slapping you, just a dull and yearning hope for her. maybe you should calm yourself down by taking a cold shower.

after dowsing yourself with water, you padded out of the bathroom, only to discover that chaewon wasn’t hunched over her luggage anymore.

you check your phone.

chaewon [10.27pm]:

zuha texted me, staying w her for the night

there’s ointment on the bedside table

for ur stupid face

bye :p

wow. chaewon had managed to do that within a day. staying at a girl’s hotel room? you whistle lowly. maybe she was onto something. but with her departure, the hotel room feels too quiet now. only the breezing and fluttering sounds of the airconditioning accompanying your thoughts of self-loathing. collapsing onto the bed, you reach out for the ointment.

just as you unscrew the cap, the doorbell rings. you don’t recall ever ordering room service. maybe it was chaewon and she forgot something?

you turn the door knob, not bothering to check who it was.

“chaewon—”

ning yizhuo stands before you, glassy eyes and a look of desperation that you’re familiar with.

“oh.”

she shuffles awkwardly, gesturing at your cheek, “are—is it okay? does it hurt?”

gulping, you shake your head.

“can we talk?” she asks, in the quietest voice ever, her words coming out shaky and breathless.

you open the door wider.

yizhuo mutters a soft, “thank you,” as she enters the room. you quickly send a text to chaewon telling her not to come back.

“did you put any cream on it?” she asks.

“no, not yet. i was just about to,” you reply quietly. the tension from the heated argument from before had disapparented, only leaving a strained relationship behind.

“can you sit down?”

you follow her instructions dutifully, sitting right at the edge of the bed. yizhuo lifts the ointment up, squeezing a bit on her finger before gently rubbing it into your cheek. it hurts, but the softness of her touch heals the area.

wincing as she applies more pressure, you can only stare at the girl.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers.

“it’s okay.”

you want to pull her into your arms.

you want her to lean onto you.

you want the feeling of her skin against yours.

“i was really hurt.”

“i know.”

yizhuo sighs, her hands dropping.

“i can’t believe you left me so easily.”

your chest tightens at the devastated tone in her voice. it wasn’t easy, you want to say. but it doesn’t feel right to defend yourself now.

“i thought it was the right thing to do.”

yizhuo lifts her head up, “why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to get married?”

“i don’t know,” it comes out in a hushed murmur, “i didn’t want to tie you down. you had a lot more things to accomplish.”

“i’d rather have you and nothing than losing you and having everything.”

the confession goes unsaid. because you’re her everything.

“i’m sorry. you just had your whole life in front of you and i was in the back. i… i didn’t fit into your life.”

the girl takes everything in. you were just so afraid then. scared that once you said yes to her proposal, yizhuo might realise that you weren’t the one for her. you’d rather be away from her, than be with her and make her unhappy. you didn’t want to live a miserable life where you hated each other.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“i know, yizhuo.”

yizhuo’s eyes are brimming with tears. her raven hair covering her face partially, but you can feel the pain radiating off her.

“you know that i would have been happy just being with you?”

“i know.”

“god, you still left like it was the easiest decision of your life.”

no it wasn’t, you again want to protest.

“you know that even in another life, i would choose to just have you by my side, even if i lose everything else? don’t you understand the extent of my love for you?”

it’s so surreal— the way yizhuo is practically begging for you to realise that leaving her was the worst possible choice for you to make.

“i love you too much.”

“then why’d you leave?” she asks.

through tears, you shakily breathe out, “because i love you too much.”

the lack of past tense doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother yizhuo. it’s a given that you’re still madly in love with the girl, and vice versa. it only leaves the question of what will happen now. yizhuo doesn’t say much afterwards. it’s the truth. you love her too much that you couldn’t bear to see her suffer because of you.

“i was so ready to marry you, i bought a ring,” yizhuo mutters, shedding tears. her sniffles aren’t concealed by the low humming of the air conditioning. it feels too real.

“forgive me, please,” you say.

“i can’t.”

the hotel room goes quiet.

“that’s okay,” it’s hard to say. you want to protest against everything, beg yizhuo to take you back and you could live your happily ever after with her.

it doesn’t happen. you don’t fall to your knees and plead.

you only stare at yizhuo in a mix of fear and longing affection. it pains you to see her so broken, and it only drives the knife further into your heart to know you’re the reason why.

“i’m so tired, y/n.��

you nod, feeling the fatigue seep in.

“me too.”

“can i sleep here tonight?” yizhuo asks softly.

you nod. there were still things to talk about, but you think you’ve done a decent job so far. pulling the covers over your bodies as yizhuo slides into the bed, you relish in the warmth and comfort of having her beside you again.

she turns her head to look at you, uncertainty filling her voice, “let’s talk more in the morning. i’m tired now.”

you agree with her wholeheartedly, inching closer to fit against her back.

as yizhuo’s eyelids flutter shut, you caress her skin tenderly. your index finger writes against her back, strokes lining her skin.

我爱你.

i love you. it’s one of the many phrases you’ve picked up throughout the years of being with the girl. she only taught you silly words and swears, but yizhuo had insisted you learn how to say and write those very words.

it’s fitting, because it’s all you ever feel for her.

because of yizhuo, you’ve had the opportunity to experience having a soulmate for almost your whole life. because of yizhuo, there’s no lingering doubt of being unlovable. because of yizhuo, you get to spend your days filled with happiness.

because of yizhuo, you understand what love is.

you just hope she understands you too.

#aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #ning yizhuo x reader #yizhuo x reader #ningning x reader #aespa #ningning #ning yizhuo

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sylusjinwoon · 5 months

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{ 166 }

too sweet.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain | pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape | if you can sit in a barrel, maybe i’ll wait until that day… }

@nyashykyunnie said: HELLLOOOO. Since you granted me permission to request a daydream uhm… Jinwoo with a reader who hyperfixates on a lot of things! The fungi, the stars and most especially the sea!! Reader lovesloves whales and jellyfishes and sharks lots!! She loves the sea so much,,!!!!, She also draws a lot><!!! Art is her biggest passion most of all!! She’s like a free bird always so cheery and happy!! Loves all things pretty and cute! A very very childish reader who is just a ball of sunshine and energy!! Loves messing ariund with Jinwoo by putting little dabs of paint on his face heheh… And loves comparing hand sizes and cuddless><!!! Sorry it’s so long ueueueu

there were times when jinwoo sung had to wonder just how he got so lucky to be with someone as bright as you.

whereas he was the pure and true embodiment of darkness-

jinwoo was certain you were light personified.

everything about you was achingly sweet to the core-

too sweet, actually.

the moment he had fallen in love with you was one that happened so… naturally. that day, he had taken some time off in order to take his mother and sister to the nearest beach. he rented out a tiny cottage by the sea, giving them the perfect view of the ocean.

while his mother and sister spent some time walking on the beach together, jinwoo wanted to give them a chance to have the much needed mother-daughter moment they both deserved, deviating from the mainland beach when he sees rugged rocks with tide pools settled beneath the harsh terrain. he thinks about all the fascinating creatures that lived within such little pools and steps closer to the area.

however, the closer he got to the tide pools, the quickly he realized that he was not alone.

for settled against one of the rocks was a young woman that was sketching within the confines of her sketchbook-

it was you.

jinwoo was suddenly rendered speechless at the mere sight of you, taking a moment to admire the way your hair shone from beneath the sunlight. your cute features were turned into a look of concentration, with your lips pursed and your eyebrows furrowed in response.

as you inched closer to the shallow pool, you had somehow lost your balance and nearly face-planted within the waters-

had it not been for jinwoo’s quick thinking, making a mad dash toward you as he captured your frame within his arms. his eyes were glowing with amusement, fighting back a smile when he sweetly asks, “are you alright?”

jinwoo helps you safely lean back against the rock, with your hands gripping on tightly to his wrist before meeting his gaze.

not a hint of fear was seen settled in your eyes, and jinwoo found that he couldn’t look away from you. your smile goes wide as you eagerly introduced yourself to him. already mesmerized by your bright and sunny nature, he repeats your name, ready to introduce himself as well when you suddenly beat him to it.

“you’re jinwoo sung, i know.”

you know?

“that’s interesting.” jinwoo couldn’t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. usually, those that met him treated him like some celebrity or idol, getting tongue tied as they bowed down to him, stuttering out their greetings while avoiding his gaze-

but you-

you were oh so different.

your gaze met with his in an unflinching manner, with your lips tilted up in a smile that manages to make his heart pound in response. the more he looked at you, the more he could feel his heart becoming filled with your sweetness and light.

after trading pleasantries, he helps you down from the rock, walking along the beach with you while softly asking if he could see your sketchbook. you would give him a sheepish expression, your cheeks being filled with heat before giving him your sketchbook as you told him your sketches “weren’t much.” as he flips through the pages, you were clearly downplaying your talents as each and every sketch was filled with a vibrancy he had never seen before.

but that all changes when jinwoo sees a sketch of himself hidden amidst the pages.

your gasp and the way you immediately tried to take the sketchbook away from him was amusing, with jinwoo holding the book up high, his eyes glowing while they took in the sight of the drawing you had made of him.

from the soft expression to the way his hair was carefully layered, jinwoo couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride, seeing how pretty you had made him.

“beautiful…” after ensuring that your sketch of him was burned into his very memories, he returns it back to you, basking in your shy expression and the way you suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze.

“you weren’t supposed to see that. now, i’m sure you find me… strange, right?”

yet instead of teasing you further-

he asks you out on a date later that night.

and the moment you accepted his offer for a date-

the rest was history.

a single date meant as a simple thank you for allowing him to see your sketches turned into something a bit more frequent; a bit more permanent.

jinwoo would find himself spending every weekend to visit you, allowing the seemingly simple and innocent crush to grow into something much deeper.

and truly, how could he not fall in love with you?

each time you spoke passionately about your interests-

(of the sharks and colorful jellyfish that lives within the crystal blue depths of the ocean;

of the strange mushrooms seen growing within your backyard, seeming to have a life of their own as they lengthened and grew beneath the emerald green grass;

of the constellations seen shimmering within the night sky from beneath the light of the full moon…)

never once did jinwoo get tired of hearing your musings and rants that pertained to your current hyperfixations, and more often than not, he would find gifts for you that further helped strengthened your love for each and every one of your interests.

(an encyclopedia for the ocean creatures and various fungal life; a book that goes into each legend of each constellation seen within the night sky and a telescope…)

in jinwoo’s eyes, no gift was ever too much for you. for you were the sole person that stole his very heart at first sight.

when he finally put a label on his relationship with you, he swore he would never forget the look of utmost joy within your eyes. your sweet voice would call out to him before you wrapped your arms around his neck, already planting a kiss against his parted lips.

a choked sound of surprise escapes from jinwoo, making you gasp as you quickly pulled away from him. a slew of apologies were heard coming from you-

and jinwoo wasn’t having it.

with a grunt of your name, he keeps your head still before diving in for another kiss, basking in the way you momentarily let out a gasp before practically melting against him. in mere seconds, jinwoo quickly became addicted to the soft and sweet taste of your lips.

already so enamored with you, he pulls away from you, only to murmur against your lips, “you’re too sweet for me… but… i have a feeling i could get used to your taste…”

it came as no surprise when jinwoo decided to move in together with you, not being able to handle a single moment spent separated away from you. each and every day was spent in an almost blissful manner, with the s-rank hunter cherishing each and every part of you.

and tonight was no different.

for your one year anniversary, jinwoo had taken you back to the beach where you had first met, preparing a home cooked dinner that consisted of all your favorite foods. after your meal, you had laid against jinwoo’s chest while resting on the blanket, simply enjoying the colors that seemed to set the sky aflame while the sun began to set over the horizon.

jinwoo’s eyes were closed, simply basking in your warmth and the way the setting sun had painted his whole world in hues of a gentle twilight. while he was resting, he could feel your hand inching closer to his as you carefully held on to it. jinwoo could feel a smile begin to spread across his full lips as you flattened the palm of your hand against his, clearly measuring the size of your hand in comparison to his.

a soft chuckle escapes from him, “sarang, silly love of mine, just what are you doing?”

he opens up one eye to look at you, a half-smile painting his handsome features as he allowed an arm to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest as he remained laying down. basking in your giggles once more, he feels his heart began to race again the moment you lean down to press a kiss against his chest.

“i love you so much, jinwoo.”

“heh, i love you more, sarang.”

jinwoo presses a kiss against your hair while letting you play with his hands. he watches you with adoration, seeing you pick up his hand before interlocking your fingertips together. a wide grin paints his features when he gives your hand a squeeze before turning you around so that you were now settled with your back against the blanket.

your breathing comes out as gentle giggles, and jinwoo takes this chance to press several, audible smooches against your features. the more you let out those melodious sounds of your laughter, the more he kept littering your face with those achingly sweet kisses.

jinwoo successfully distracts you, and you couldn’t help but frown when you felt a sudden weight against your left ring finger. catching your shocked expression, he allows you to sit up while looking at the ring settled against your finger.

it was an incredibly cute and endearing ring, with your favorite gemstone shaped into a heart as you met jinwoo’s gaze, eyes going wide with your lips parted in response. “jinwoo… what’s this?”

“a promise.” his reply comes out as hoarse and shaky, taking your hand as he presses a kiss against the ring he had just gifted you. “i know it feels… a bit too soon to propose any… ah… commitment. but still, i wanted you to know that i’m completely serious about you.”

“this ring will serve as my promise to you… of what is to come.”

with a choked sob of his name, you lean forward to kiss him once more, perfectly slotting your lips against his as jinwoo kissed you back with just as much passion.

jinwoo knew right then and there that he had made the right decision of keeping you; for you were (and always will be) his sole light.

a.n. - when kyunnie made a second part to her most gut wrenching angst, i was so elated and happy that i wanted to write / make a daydream of hers come true. i hope i wrote your daydreams well enough! 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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tarotbyopal · 7 months

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When will you find love?

Happy Thursday 22/02! Look at all of those 2s today! Is it a sign? It might be...let's find out?!

🫧Piles: 1-2-3

🫧Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Calm your breath and remove all of the thoughts from your mind. When you try to focus on the reading at hand which number or image comes to mind? That is your pile

Paid readings | Memberships

Pile 1 Your energy towards love

The Chariot, 3 of Pentacles, Death, The Hierophant

Pile 1 you guys are ready to go in hard and put the work into a connection. You want something that you can put work into and build from the ground. You are ready to go out and find the way and you want this. You may read a lot of love stories as well and daydream about your person or finding ‘the one’. You may already even have someone in mind or you may find yourself developing crushes extremely easily. I also feel like your views towards what a relationship is has changed - if you wanted to get married, you may realise that you don’t want anymore. If you didn’t want to get married you may suddenly be interested in doing so. Pile 1 you may find exs suddenly coming back to your life but juts know that your soulmate is not one of your exs…this is someone completely new.

When will you find love?

Page of cups, 9 of pentacles, knight of swords

I do feel like Pile 1 you are likely to find love between June-October 2024. It will happen whilst you are at a business/career/study event, you may even receive an award or you will be celebrated by your peers and superiors. This connection is likely to develop very very quickly - one moment your strangers, the next your engaged.

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frozenjokes · 1 month

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do we think cannibalism is a good idea yet? please? please do cannibalism?

“Hey, you okay, Mumbo? Can I come up? I’m thinking I’m going to come up regardless of what you say, but I’d like it if you just said yes.”

It was Scar. Mumbo said nothing. Scar hit his head twice attempting to get in with a trident, but made it on the third go, sighing with a dramatic ‘whew!’ There was a small silence in the wake of Scar’s arrival, causing the same agony Mumbo was sure Cub experienced when Mumbo smashed his ribs.

“Guess he told you,” Mumbo muttered, resigned to this outcome. Cub would tell Scar, Scar would push for more answers, and eventually the whole damn server would know something was wrong, not that they could do anything about it. Mumbo would not leave. Not until his shadow had its way.

“Cub told me you were really upset, yeah. Said he didn’t know why,” Scar shrugged, “Told me he thought you needed a friend. So here I am.”

“Ah,” Mumbo couldn’t even manage the noise without his voice slipping in a soft crack. Scar stepped toward the bed where Mumbo was curled up, moving to take his hand, then letting it go when Mumbo flinched.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Scar said, so impossibly gentle, and while Mumbo most certainly would not, he didn’t want to say nothing; he didn’t think he could just say nothing, it was too much.

“I think I’m- I’m very ill. I’m having a- a crisis, I think. Mentally. I’m not well. I’m really not well.”

Scar hummed, low and thoughtful, “Want a hug? I could lay down with you, no need to sit up.”

“I don’t want to face you.”

“That’s not a problem.”

“I-Okay. I’m just. I’m just going to stay here. I’m just going to stay here.”

Mumbo felt the bed dip beside him, Scar muttering a soft, “Alright,” before sliding in and holding him in a gentle spoon. It was nice feeling Scar behind him, warm even through the blanket that separated them. Slowly, Mumbo let that heat consume him, felt his heart rate slow. And then out of nowhere it seemed, wretchedly, he started to sob. It was not unusual for Mumbo to cry, though most of his grief was saved for the end of worlds, the friends he’d never see again. So much of his focus was dedicated to staying in the moment, distracting himself, putting one foot in front of the other; stopping to sob was a waste of energy, a waste of resolve. It was giving up. And Mumbo was aware of what was coming, he knew it, but in each new world acceptance came later, the moment where the gravity of his soon-to-end life hit him harder each time, and today, it was hitting now. He could delude himself all he wanted that he’d hold on until the end of the season, but he knew he wouldn’t make it. He would hardly be able to stand more than a month of this. It was over. Maybe it’d be better to bite the bullet now. Stop drawing out his own suffering and deal with the hurt after it was done.

How selfish was that, with Scar at his back. With monstrous effort, he ground down the thought that this would be the ideal way to do it; turning around and tearing through Scar’s chest, disabling any means of fighting back, then taking his damned time. Mumbo cried harder when Scar followed his arm down to his hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into the back.

He would wait.

“Please tell Cub to leave me alone. I don’t know what he wants, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see him anymore. For the rest of the season, I don’t want to see him.”

“He wants you to eat him.”

Mumbo stiffened, a short, strangled sound crawling from his throat, but Scar shushed him gently, holding Mumbo’s hand tighter in turn.

“Just listen, lay here with me and listen before you freak out, alright?” Scar's voice was little more than a whisper, gentle force at Mumbo’s side serving to keep him still and as calm as he could stand to be.

“Why?” Mumbo croaked out, and felt Scar gesture vaguely with his head.

“He’s worried, mostly. He gets in his head about things, and he’s trying to solve them but he- well, he’s not the most tactful guy sometimes. I think he got scared when he saw you at the start of season ten; the last time he’d really seen you was after your break when you looked really bad.. He’s worried things are going to escalate to the point they did before, so he’s uh.. decided he’s gonna fix it. With cannibalism. When he’s talking about it to me it makes a lot of sense, but uh.. I mean, I guess it’s a little out there..”

“How do I make him stop. You have to- Scar, please make him stop.” Mumbo felt himself quivering in Scar’s hold, be it from fear or anger, he did not know.

“Oh, he won’t take it from me. I mean, he would if I was the guy he was trying to convince to eat other people, but he doesn’t always take secondhand advice like that. In this case, he’s way too zeroed in. You have to do it.”

“Well- fine. I’ll do it then, I’ll do it right now-“ Mumbo wriggled in Scar’s grip, but he held fast.

“Wait a minute- Not like that, no, not like that.” Scar almost laughed, but there was a little more stress there than anything.

“Not like what?” Mumbo huffed, annoyed. He pushed one last struggle, but gave in when Scar didn’t let go.

“You’ve got to be straight with Cub, you’ll put him off if you go about this too.. emotionally charged, let’s say. I’ll tell you exactly how to do it, I want to help you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo took a breath, then forced himself to relax, “Okay. Tell me. Please.”

Mumbo felt Scar straighten up behind him, then clear his throat, like he was about to address a crowd. “First, you gotta be as close to emotionless as you can make yourself. Fire up the coldest, deadest soul you can manage, and talk to him like you’ve just found out a close friend from like ten years ago got really sick, like really sick, terminal, and you don’t really know what to do, but the messenger of the news is looking awkward so you tell them it’s okay, it’s fine, but you don’t really feel fine, you know, your old friend is-“

“I understand, Scar,” Mumbo said, stuck between annoyance and a soft pang of amusement.

“Oh- alright,” Scar sounded a little embarrassed, but not offended, “Well I say that because Cub doesn’t- I know he doesn’t do this on purpose, and he’d probably be hurt if I said this to him so please don’t say anything, but he tends to take you less seriously when you approach him in an emotional kind of way. He really doesn’t mean to, he just gets a little confused I think, frustrated maybe. He doesn’t get it, is what I mean. He’s extremely bad at getting it. He’s sympathetic, but if you approach him and you’re emotional about it he’ll start thinking he knows better than you, in a ‘I’m just gonna take care of it for you,’ kinda way, which is completely infuriating, believe me, I know.”

“Are.. Are you guys okay?”

“Ah!” Scar jumped as if Mumbo had tazed him, “No no no! I’m just trying to explain it to you. I love Cub, he’s great, he’s the best. Literally. He’s just kind of an asshole sometimes. And he knows that, he doesn’t like being an asshole, so he listens when you tell him how it is.”

“Okay.. Then I’ll tell him I’m not going to eat him. And to stop bothering me.”

“No you won’t.”

Mumbo made a face, then gave in, “Okay. What will I tell him then.”

“You gotta tell him how he’s acting, right? You can’t tell him how what he’s doing makes you feel because he does not care, and he’ll probably tell you that, because when he’s made his mind up about something he seriously does not give a fuck unless you reach into his brain and shake it around a little. You gotta really take him by the temples and just shake.” Scar shook Mumbo a little for emphasis, Mumbo half fighting half chuckling as Scar dissolved into giggles.

“So I tell him that he’s being a prick and he should snap out of it before I get other people involved,” Mumbo sighed harshly, “Honestly, I shouldn’t even bother. I’ll just tell Grian. He’ll take care of it.”

“No, no,” Scar laughed, but it was a more nervous sound, like he knew just how serious Grian would take a matter like this, “That first bit is perfect. If you tell him that like you’re really serious- approach him first too, don’t wait for him to come to you- it’ll stop him right in his tracks. If that doesn’t work, call me. You don’t have to threaten him or anything, just make him see he’s not going about his business in the right way. I don’t do much more than tell him he’s being an asshole and he backs down. It’s magic.”

“Well- Okay. But I’m going to Grian if this doesn’t work.” Mumbo started to get up, but stopped when Scar squeezed his hand.

“Wait until tomorrow,” he said, quiet, “It’ll be better for you. Stay, rest today.” Even quieter still, he continued, “I’m sorry you’re going through something, Mumbo. If you ever want to get into the weeds I’m here, and you know Grian will be up and arms for you at the drop of a hat. It doesn’t.. It doesn’t matter what it is. To me especially, you have to know it doesn’t matter,” and with a small laugh, he said, “You could tell me you wanted to saw my head off with just your nails and I’d probably go yikes! I don’t think I’ll be very alive before you finish with the decapitation, but I'm free all day Wednesday, so we can give it a shot!”

“I’ll wait,” was all Mumbo could say. He hoped Scar would let it go now, but less than a minute later, he was speaking again.

“I just hope you know Cub’s got good intentions. He’s not trying to hurt you. I know it doesn’t always feel like that, especially when he can look you in the eyes and disregard your feelings because he’s more convinced he’s helping than he sees he’s upsetting you. I.. I’m also worried about you, if I’m being honest. It doesn’t take me finding you curled up in bed to know you haven’t been in the best shape lately. I don’t know the best way to go about this, Mumbo, and I don’t think- I don’t know if Cub.. I don’t always think he has the best way of going about things, but I understand where he’s coming from. I understand why. I know it’s difficult to extend him the kind of patience that you would for a closer friend, but please try. All of the hermits care about you, even the ones you don’t know well. We want to see you doing well.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Scar.”

Scar was quiet for a long moment. “Okay.”

…

Mumbo found Cub at the permit office where Scar told him Cub would probably be most consistently at least some part of the day. The idea of doing this in the permit office was most comforting for Mumbo, for the slim chance that Grian might also be there, might come up to Cub’s office and save him from the agony of this confrontation, though, the more logical part of Mumbo’s brain said that Grian was the wrong kind of person to convince Cub of anything. It was probably a good thing he never came in to work.

Mumbo had never been to the permit office before, but he couldn’t find an entrance, so grimacing, he poked a hole in the wall, replacing the blocks as he went. He climbed up the stairs with some issue (everything here seemed to be cluttered and difficult to find), then stopped before coming to the third floor, hesitating.

“Cub?” he called, feeling exceedingly stupid.

“Mumbo?” Cub nearly squawked, more than surprised, but this gave Mumbo some confidence, climbing the stairs to Cub’s office.

“Hello,” Mumbo said coolly, finding the even tone much easier to achieve now that he was face to face with Cub. Cub straightened his posture, and Mumbo, pleased to have gotten his attention, continued, “You’re being a prick.”

Cub blinked, then again a few times, but his expression stayed mostly the same. “Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Yes.” Cub tapped his nails on his desk, looking thoughtful.

“I’d like to know what you’re going to do about it. Because if things continue the way they’re going, I’m going to have Grian get involved, and that would be a mighty pain in your ass.”

Cub nodded like this made perfect sense, “I think that’s fair. I do not want that. How about you sit down, Mumbo.”

“I’d rather not.”

“That’s fine. Regardless, I’d like to have a conversation about this so we can work out what we’re going to do next.”

“I already know what’s going to happen here, Cub. You’re going to leave me alone, cut complete contact, or I’m getting other hermits involved. That’s where this is going.”

“I would appreciate it if we could talk first, because as much as I’m sure you have plenty of words to say about me, I have a few things to say of my own, and I think it’s only reasonable that I speak my peace before you call in the dogs. You can hear exactly what I want from my own mouth and decide for yourself how you’d like to move forward when I’m done.” Cub closed his eyes, then opened them a moment later, “Because it doesn’t matter if you pit the entire server against me, I’m a damn stubborn cunt in the face of the kind of adversity you’re threatening, and the easy way out is here, at my desk. If you sit here and listen to everything I have to say and still want out, then I will leave you alone.” Cub eyed his own chair distastefully, getting up and maneuvering to sit with his legs crossed on his desk instead. He brushed away the few papers and knickknacks he kept, pushing them onto the now empty chair. “My desk chair is meant to sit higher than the one where a client would sit, but that’s all roleplay, let’s ditch the nonsense.”

Mumbo frowned. He considered calling Scar, but that wouldn’t help him here. He sighed. For the peace of mind of never having to deal with Cub again, this seemed a small price to pay. Mumbo climbed onto Cub’s desk, awkward with his long legs.

“Okay. Speak then.”

“I’ll only leave you alone if you listen to everything I have to say, got it?”

“Just get on with it, Cub.”

Cub rolled his shoulders, seeming quite content with taking his time. And then Cub’s eyes narrowed, throwing Mumbo a look so fiercely knowing that Mumbo felt it pierce straight through his bleeding heart.

“Let me start with what I don’t care about, because as far as shit like this goes, I prefer to lay it all out on the table. When it comes to the hobbies of this server’s inhabitants, slowly torturing, dismembering, and eventual eating alive of animals is pretty low of my list of Things That Make Me Feel Good but ultimately high on my list of Things I Don’t Really Give A Fuck About, and given everything I know about you, Mumbo, I don’t think you’re psychotic, I think you probably have a pretty good reason to do those things you do thousands of blocks out from spawn. And before you start squabbling at me, I found out in season eight, Scar knows because I told him, and I’m 99% sure Grian knows, but he never told me so and I haven’t directly asked him. I’m willing to bet he’s known since season six though, probably weeks within the first day he met you. If anyone else knows, I haven’t been told about it.”

Mumbo covered his gaping mouth with a quivering hand. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Part of him wanted to lunge forward and silence Cub, but that wouldn’t stop him. It wouldn’t keep him from coming back. Cub did not look sympathetic. If anything, he looked angry.

“What do you need, Mumbo.” It wasn’t a question.

Mumbo didn’t answer.

“What do you need. What do you need? Why are you hiding it? What’s the damn point? If you need to eat, Mumbo, fucking eat, wasting away isn’t doing anything or anyone, especially not you.”

“It’s not about me.”

“Is it not?” Cub asked snidely, whatever neutral patience he’d been holding onto before evaporating, “What, you don’t want to hurt anyone? Are you a monster, Mumbo, because you have a little thirst for human blood? Join the fucking club! I can not for the life of me figure out what’s going on in your head- Do you think you’re better than the rest of us? Don’t want to stoop so low? What’s your damn problem! More than half of the server would lay themselves out on a platter for you on a whim of cannibalism related curiosity! Forget it if you need to eat people to survive; even the hermits you haven’t spoken to in months would cut themselves open for you! Have you opened your eyes in the past ten years? We’re all fucking deranged!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mumbo felt the coolness come easy to him, encompassing him like black tar, “You’re making an ass out of yourself, jumping to conclusions like you can read minds.”

“You don’t give anyone much of a choice but to speculate.”

“Then I’ll lay it out for you,” Mumbo felt the rumble of a growl in his throat, expecting Cub to bite back, but he did not, silent, waiting. “Eating is not a matter of meat, not for me. Meat in the final step, but alone it is nothing, just a conduit. I need terror. I need hopelessness, despair, the kind that builds over years and years of terrorizing and watching your back and holding tightly to the things you love because you don’t know how much longer you can stand to stay, to hold them. Trying every avenue of escape, but it’s never enough. Drawing it out, leaving you alone just long enough that you think it might be safe, you think it might be over, but it’s never over. The only thing you can do is leave everything behind, find a new world, and hope to whatever higher power you believe in that I don’t follow. This isn’t as simple as asking for permission, Cub. When I finally decide it’s over, this world will end. You can not convince an animal otherwise. Animals only want to eat, grow, feel full. I will never be full. I don’t think I can be full. I can escape to sentience for a little while, spite that animal inside me, starve, but I have a feeling I’m only allowed to do so because it makes the upcoming meal that much sweeter. Betrayal, fear, hurt. To answer your questions, that’s what I need. You can tell the whole server, and it will not change the outcome. You can’t get rid of me. I won’t stop until Hermitcraft and all the history of its seasons, held in this one server, is completely abandoned.”

Cub was quiet for a long few moments after Mumbo was done, thinking, considering. “Right,” he said, almost like he didn’t believe him, the carelessness of that one word enough to make Mumbo want to bite his head right off. “That makes a lot more sense.” Then under his breath, trailing off, “..a little dramatic, but..”

“Does it.” Mumbo seethed, though part of him didn’t even know why. The callousness, the disregard- maybe he was angry that Cub wasn’t afraid because it made for a worse build up, a modicum less satisfying in the end. Maybe he was angry because Cub didn’t seem to care, and he should.

“What are you? Never heard of anything like that.” Again Cub continued casually, and despite Mumbo’s seething, his anger eased slightly at the question, reasonable enough.

“I don’t have a name. Over the years victims pass rumors of my existence around, but I’m hardly widespread enough to surpass the standard obscurity in worlds of temporary horrors. As far as I know I’m the only one of my kind,” Mumbo paused, shrugging, “Guess that’s not super likely though.”

“How old are you? You look like you’re in your twenties, maybe early thirties.”

“I don’t know. I tend to match the age of the people around me. It’s not a conscious effort.” Mumbo’s anger was starting to fade, replaced instead by a deep confusion, possibly a small amount of relief. He had very little idea what was happening here, what Cub was trying to get at, but he’d never been able to.. talk about this. Ever. Even his shadow didn’t seem to know how to feel, the both of them side eyeing each other from their places on Cub’s desk.

“Oh, I don’t mean now. I mean like- forever. In total, since you were born, or.. whatever created you.”

“I don’t remember when I started to exist. Atoms aren’t very concerned with the passage of time, nor are plants and animals. For the majority of my existence I did not count the years. Even now, I don’t count them like people do. I only want to know how long I can hold my sentience before it’s gone again.”

“Ah. So like. Really old. Really really old. Wow. I knew your body could change, I’ve seen it, but you can be different species altogether?”

Mumbo shifted uncomfortably at the idea of having been watched. He could not afford to feel shame for the animals he consumed, but he really didn’t like the idea that multiple hermits may have witnessed what he was doing and not said a word. He was always so careful- even then, if someone was following him, Mumbo was certain he would be able to sense their fear. Maybe he didn’t notice over the screams of jackrabbits. It was entirely too possible. Cub seemed unconcerned about Mumbo’s silence, continuing to ask questions almost like he was speaking to himself, like he didn’t need or want the answers because theorizing was entertaining enough.

“Can I see it? See you change?” Was the question that snapped Mumbo back to reality, the utter stupidity of the words rousing him back to life.

“If you’d like to see me lose my sentience in real time then paint the floor in your blood, sure Cub, whatever you want.”

Cub paused, almost consideringly, like he’d completely missed the sarcasm, “Maybe another time. What about something sentient? Can you do that? Like a vex- Like Scar and I! I mean, I honestly don’t know if the little guys are very sentient, so best not try-“

But Mumbo was already rolling his eyes, resigned to doing circus pony tricks, and the ethereal blue skin that painted Cub and Scar’s vex forms rippled across his own, dark hair curling into streaks of white, small wings fluttering at his back. Without entirely knowing what he was doing, he raised his newly clawed hands in a playful splay, hissing for emphasis, then let the whole change ripple away, returning to his human form. Cub looked spellbound, and the attention felt dangerous, appealing to Mumbo far more than he thought safe.

“That’s incredible! Oh, Scar would get a real kick out of that! You’ve got to show him!”

“I- It’s really nothing,” Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck, deeply unsure how to feel about this, but certainly mounting in alarm, “I’m not- I’m not showing Scar, I’m not doing that again-“

“Can you turn into other people? Can you look like me?”

“I- Probably? I mean I’m sure I can, I don’t really have limits, but this isn’t something I-“

“Try? Can you try? You don’t have limits? Okay we’ll go back to that later. Can you try?”

“We aren’t- we aren’t going back to anything!” Mumbo squeaked in his distress, but Cub was so genuinely interested, so genuinely impressed that Mumbo didn’t- he’d never experienced something like this before. So he gave in and tried, though, ‘tried’ implies there was any effort at all when in reality it was quite easy, basically second nature, until the change was complete and his mind seemed to double over on itself, the same but entirely different, thinking his thoughts but in completely different ways, stalling Mumbo where he sat, paralyzed by the horrors of a new inner working. Almost immediately he changed back, heaving shallow breaths as his mind caught up with the speed of his thoughts.

“Whoa- That was- Are you okay?” Cub stopped in his tracks, apparently failing to notice the internal explosion that occurred in Mumbo’s head.

“I am never doing that again.”

“What-“

“Your brain is awful,” Mumbo heaved, and Cub blinked, and Mumbo knew exactly what was happening, that Cub was processing, everything inside of him sluggish and those pauses, all those times he paused between sentences, it made sense now.

“You copied my body and mind?” Cub breathed, and Mumbo was still reeling so hard from the momentary terror of being in Cub’s head that he could not respond, “That’s- I mean maybe I should have guessed that might happen if you’re changing completely, but- I don’t know! I wonder why you reacted so badly if you were just me, because I wouldn’t have cared, I’ve lived here all my life. Maybe you keep part of your own head? The internal dialogue? Oh- Maybe you didn’t get my whole brain, you just got all the mental illness. In that case, I am very sorry. I bet you’d inherit physical problems too, the ones that don’t get fixed by respawns. Scar’s sickness, for example. Wow. That is really cool. I’ve never needed to cut someone open so badly in my entire life. Can I study you? I’m asking but I really don’t want to be asking. I know I said I wouldn’t pester you after this was over but I have way too many questions.” Mumbo was honestly shocked Cub could talk so fast in a brain like that, but then again, he hadn’t stuck around to find out the complexities. Maybe it only sounded fast because Mumbo’s own head was fried.

“Okay, so how do we kill you?”

Mumbo blinked up at that. “What?”

“If you go crazy, how do we kill you? Stop you, whatever.”

“Okay- one. This isn’t about ‘if’s’ so don’t get in your head about it. And you can’t stop me either, that’s not how this works. I don’t just die.”

“You can die perfectly well right now,” Cub pointed out, unconcerned.

“Well- sure. But it doesn’t matter if you kill me or not in any form, I don’t stay dead.”

“That’s fine,” Cub said, tapping his fingers impatiently on his legs, “Just tell me how. When you were hunting all those pigs you didn’t look like you got hurt or even bled.”

Mumbo huffed, impatient himself, “Well if you want to kill me, you’d better do it instantly. I don’t sustain any injuries if I don’t want to, the skin heals over as soon as whatever’s hit me is gone.”

“So if I wanted to keep you somewhere, I’d impale you. Get you in the head or heart, or maybe not some place lethal.”

“You can’t keep me anywhere, I’ll just change.”

“Ah, right. Then I’ll have to convince you not to somehow. How do you feel about peoples’ suffering if you’re not the one inflicting it? Can you tell the difference between a real scream and a fake one?” Cub talked casually like this was a simple matter of problem solving, far too animated, almost like it was fun.

“I- I don’t know, Cub, but I don’t think this is a very productive line of thought.”

“Why not? I mean, I’ll have years I’m sure to experiment on my own, but while you’re here and talking to me I think I should take advantage, don’t you?”

“You can’t stop me!” Mumbo nearly shouted in his distress, though Cub remained unperturbed.

“Is this Mumbo Jumbo the sentient human talking or Mumbo Jumbo the flesh eating terror, because if I may, you’re sounding suspiciously like the flesh eating terror.”

“You- You have no idea what you’re dealing with. This isn’t something you can stop or fight, Cub, I’ve lived hundreds of lives and worlds where everyone I’ve ever befriended has-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Cub interrupted him, “I don’t care. However, maybe you’re right that prepping for the worst case scenario isn’t a great use of our time because who knows how much you’ve got left. Let’s see what we can do to extend it first, yeah? If we can do that indefinitely, then there’s no problem!”

“I’ve already tried everything, Cub-“

“Have you tried cannibalism?”

“No, but-“

“Then you have not tried everything. What’s your deal? Why are you so against it? I understand your methods are a tad more intense, but who cares. Y’know, I bet this would be more effective against someone who isn’t going to see it coming. Scar is a prime candidate, but Grian would be even better for your purposes.”

Mumbo blanched, reddening in turn as anger brought flush to his face, “I am not going to attack anyone without telling them! What is wrong with you?”

Cub raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, “If you want to maximize the time you have with sentience, you should take advantage of the beginning when no one understands why you’re doing what you’re doing. For the purpose of farming enough suffering to last you, it seemed reasonable, but yeah, probably a little extreme. Still, I think you’re going to have to ease up on the ethics here if we’re going to figure something out.”

“I’m not- No, Cub. I’m telling you no.”

“Why?” It was Cub’s turn to be frustrated, scowling as he rolled his eyes.

“Because I would feel bad!”

Cub nearly hissed, throwing up his arms, “For fuck’s sake! Are we not past that? I thought your whole issue is that you make friends then torture them to death a thousand times before moving on and doing it again. Why do you suddenly have problems now that you have a willing participant?”

“Because I’m sentient, Cub!”

“You’re cowardly is what you are. Get over it.”

“Right, sure, yeah, I’ll just do that.”

“Great!” Cub huffed, “I’m ready then! Go on, paint the floor red or whatever you said about my blood. Get it all over. Give me a reason to be afraid.”

“I can’t. I don’t- You don’t get it. I spend so much time in this body doing my best to make up for everything I’ve done. I’m glad that you don’t seem to have a guilty conscience, but it’s not so easy to know the full weight of the horrors you’ve committed and the pain you will bring again because you can’t stop. What’s the point of spending the rest of my time here inflicting the same kind of suffering I will when I lose my head. You think you can stop it, but you’re wrong. You are wrong. I am past delaying the inevitable. Let me have this. Let me starve. I will do all I can for the server in my last months. I won’t live here just as I would live as a dog. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth inflicting, knowing exactly the harm I’m bringing and wanting more all the same. And that’s in the case that everyone here is magically okay with being stalked and tortured to death until I crack regardless, no, I refuse to believe even you would want to live like that.”

Cub stared at Mumbo for a long moment, searching, though for what Mumbo didn’t know. “You’re guilty,” he mumbled, like this wasn’t obvious, “You think you deserve to starve.”

“Of course,” Mumbo replied, struggling between his own shame and the hot anger simmering below his skin.

“I don’t think so,” he said, like it was just that simple. Mumbo opened his mouth to argue, or maybe just scream, but Cub interrupted him, “Regardless of what you are now, Mumbo, you are not human. You can take the shape of a person, you can do and feel the things that people do, but you are not one, not really. You’re something else. This ‘something’ doesn’t have a name, but you have different needs. You are not a person. Why is it so evil for you to take what you need, Mumbo? I mean, sure, you can’t expect to take what you need from the friends you’ve made and keep those friends all the same, but you are not bad for taking. You are hungry. You are hunting, and you are eating. It’s callous of humanity to consider themselves above this dynamic of the food chain. We are not. Nor are you, most likely. There’s always a bigger fish.”

“It’s not the same. I am far crueler than any animal you can name, and I know better.”

“Do you think dolphins deserve to suffer for hunting fish?”

“Cub, I told you it’s-“

“Many things eat their prey alive,” Cub interrupted coolly, “You found a renewable source of food, one that feels emotions stronger than any other options, comes back to life, and fears you greater each time. You are not a person, Mumbo, you are a predator that hunts people. It doesn’t matter if you ‘know better.’ You need to eat. You need it. Talking ethics, if you want to ease your guilt, you should limit the time you spend interacting with people in the body you’ve made for yourself, but even then, you’re only preparing yourself a better meal. It is not evil. People can hate you for it, but that’s not any different from how a rabbit might hate a fox. It is not any different.”

Mumbo quieted, knowing little of what to say. It was different. It was different because Mumbo hated doing it, he hated having to do it, he hated fighting with himself, and he hated being This. He liked people. He liked being a person, he liked living among them, he liked it all so much more than he liked himself.

“But I don’t want to. I don’t want to need it. I want to stay here, stay human. I want to be human. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well,” Cub said, voice softer, sympathetic for the first time since Mumbo had joined him on his desk. “That’s a separate can of worms, isn’t it.”

Mumbo didn’t speak for a long time. He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see Cub. Cub, who was looking at him, looking directly through him.

“I guess so.” The words were so quiet, they hardly passed Mumbo’s lips before they were nothing.

“Well, here’s what I think, Mumbo,” Cub started, the softness dissipating in favor of something calmer, more logical, “I think you have a lot to say about what will or won’t keep you sentient longer, but for someone so confident cannibalism won’t work, you certainly haven’t tried it. So you’re going to try it. See if this can be a temporary possible-solution until we can find a more permanent one. I need time to work this out, and I refuse to let you keep starving yourself out of shame.”

“You- What? You think you can-“

“I don’t think I can do anything,” Cub interrupted, voice hard, “But those woodland mansions have a hell of a lot of books, and I happen to enjoy looking through them. Scar and I are always looking for something to do. So.” Cub looked back at Mumbo from where he was staring out the window, “Are you willing to try? It’s a little cramped in here, so I think it would be better to go somewhere else, somewhere I could run from you, if you like that. Outside might be ideal as well, so we don’t have to clean up so much. We could probably-“

“I- Wait, Cub, please wait,” Mumbo needed to interrupt him, needed to stop him, but when Cub did stop, waiting for Mumbo to continue, he found his mouth dry.

“What.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

Cub looked just about ready to kill him, and honestly Mumbo didn’t blame him, but the mental block was still there, he was just so- he didn’t even know, and maybe that was the worst part. He was scared. His limbs were stiff and numb, and even with the shrill screams of desperate starvation in his ears, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Cub took a long, deep breath, barely holding on to his composure, “Mumbo, if we don’t do something to stall for time-“

“Eat me. Eat me first. Do it all, everything I would do to you, draw it out, make it hurt. I need- I need to know how it feels. I need this.”

Cub paused, eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mumbo. You don’t need more excuses to back down. I’ve had my fair share of being torn apart, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll do it. I promise I’ll do it, I’ll eat my whole damn fill if you want me to, Cub, but I need this first. I have to know.” Mumbo had no idea where this had come from; the feverish desperation, but now it was all he could think about, knowing, he had to know, he had to face what he’d done directly, and then he could swallow this pill and move on.

Cub considered him, eyes still narrowed.

“Alright. Fine.” he closed his eyes, inclining his head then opening them with a smile, “We’ll do it in the labyrinth.”

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #mumbo jumbo #convex #tw: cannibalism #tw: violence #hermitfic #hermitcraft fic

51 notes · View notes

lundenloves · 1 year

Note

loved the post u made abt dad!simon w his daughter having a bad week. but what abt if his daughter is mentally going thru it yk? shes being distant n isolating herself the the point where her siblings are concerned

He notices due to his observant nature, though it isn’t entirely hard to not see the difference in his daughter — he sees the small things. The stack of glasses by her bed, the varying touched and untouched plates of food, how every day she got later in waking up and how school had become a past tense.

His shoulders collapsed in a sigh after you had come downstairs with dish ware juggled in your arms. “Go talk to her.”

“She won’t want—“

“Try.”

And so he would. He’d hike himself up the stairs and to her room, entering with a small knock and leaning on the doorframe waiting for her acknowledgment (and the words to work out in his head) though it never came, and the words never really did either.

So instead, he shut the door behind him. “Talk to me, kid.” while taking a seat at her desk chair, arms leant on his knees and feet wide apart from one another.

Her eye blinked a glance toward him.

“What’s wrong, eh?” The words came with a soft tone, one matching the delicacy of the situation. It made her want to breakdown, had she more energy.

“I don’t know.” It was a murmur at best.

He nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck and letting go of a long exhale. “You get this from me.”

Her brows furrowed.

Simon cleared his throat, his knee beginning to bounce without thought. “I go through days like this.” His eyes then connected with hers, trust sinking in for the time she had allowed. “I did when I was younger too. And it’s, it’s alright.”

Her nod was absent, eyes averting back to whichever brain numbing show she had been watching.

Simon swallowed. “It’s the worst when I come home from deployment.” A beat. “When there’s no schedule to follow. It fucks me over.”

“Mhm.”

He had never said these things out loud before. Ears growing darker after each word, unable to stop himself. “But it’s not always then.”

She looked at him.

“I’ll uh— sometimes I just wake up here and feel it.” He shrugged. “Which is hard.”

“What do you do to stop it.”

“Your mum is good at pulling me out of it.” He said. “The same way you are, or your sisters are,” And the anxiety in his knee stilled. “People.”

There was a brief pause of silence for his word to land. “People do it for you?” She clarified and Simon shook his head.

“You do it for them.”

Her mind pulled to all the times her dad seemed off and it was a slippery slope to say the least. But it made sense, his explanation. However many times all those years ago when she had walked into the kitchen to show him a drawing — head in his hands by the table when she had asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

He never did (could) give her an answer at the time, but what he did provide was his best put on smile. She remembered the safety of his arms after picking her up, answering all dozen of her curious questions without a slip and suddenly,

She understood what he meant.

idk why this turned out into… this it wasn’t supposed to be this long oh well. also like— mid but we don’t talk about that. too short for taglist, seek and thee shall find 🧙‍♂️

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luonae · 3 months

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whew im finally done with my PL oc/custom eris i suppose. (well i wanted to draw him more but im bored) embarrassingly long post ahead so brace yourself

collection of his fits: (fun fact, all of them have a reference to milo somewhere like hearts, the cross earring M milo has, or just the letter M... also shaped like a heart)

he puts the war in wardrobe. (i couldnt stop myself from giving him multiple outfits since taking care of his looks is a pretty significant part of his character)

ok yapping time (even this is actually very condensed from what ive written):

- his favorite manipulation tactics involve shaming and guilt tripping. hes really subtle about them. also playing innocent

- he grew up with an alcoholic physically abusive father and was taught to play up his cuteness so his father would have a harder time lashing out at him and pity him, which is why he takes a lot of care of his appearance and looks. he weaponizes them and uses them as a defense mechanism too

- overconfident hedonist who fucks around and finds out lol. good at adapting to match other peoples energy and needs

- naturally book smart but not street smart. hes very well known in college for his consistently good grades. he uses his helplessness in daily situations to play the damsel in distress role (trust this guy to weaponize even his weakness)

- out of all the milos hes most similar to M milo (but hes actually introverted). his favorite milo would be pre though (he likes how miserable he looks and finds it endearing. also he likes cute things and bunnies and pre milo is the cutest to him... and the bunny one)

- if i had to liken him to any pre existing characters, the closest would be chae yul from secret alliance

- he doesnt care about 99% of things in life so its hard to see him stressed out. the only thing he cares about is milo. he thinks manipulating milo is okay because in the end milo will love him and be happy to be with him, and he will be happy to be with milo too, so its a win-win (dont mind the ethics of this logic)

- uses milo like a servant or a guard dog (v milo rejoice, youre perfect). hes really lazy and clumsy, bad at household chores. hes actually very protective of milo though. he may be bossy and manipulative towards him but if someone else hurts milo he will immediately take matters into his own hands. hes squeamish and weak to blood and gore (which would suck when hes with v milo) but he would definitely start maiming anyone who hurts milo (aside from himself lol)

- his best subject was math. his worst subject was history. his hobbies are mostly solitary activities like gaming, drawing, taking walks, and dancing

extras: he heard milo likes bunnies

and... while drawing all those colorful outfits i could only think of one thing...

(this would actually never happen because he would never apologize)

oh and i almost forgot to include these

ok last fun fact: his favorite endings would definitely be the killer (v) and arsonist (m) endings (very funny how in both of these he transforms milo into a national menace) but his least favorites would be kidnapped/taken (v) and walls (m). he would especially hate the walls one. milo get out!!!! he wants to see you!!!!!!!!

#perfect love vn #perfect love fanart #pre milo #perfect love oc #perfectlovevn #if hes yandere and milos yandere whos driving the car #he would be so jealous over M milo because that ones more sociable #aka has more friends!!! gives other people attention!!! probably even has admirers!!!#(not for long though)#pl emir #emirmilo

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courtingchaos · 1 year

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Interruption

A/N: You get a graphic so you know what I’m referencing. It’s just some fluff about putting makeup on Eddie 💋. Also, listen to this while reading. It’s what prompted it.

“You’re only allowed to stay in here if you stop pinching my ass, Ed.”

“You keep leaning over the counter, what do you want me to do?” He’s sitting on the toilet lid watching you do your makeup, choosing the most opportune time of eyeliner placement, to pinch your butt through your soft shorts.

“You could have done it when I was putting on my foundation, not when I have wood near my eye.”

“I can put some wood near your eye.”

“Jesus christ…”

He leans his chin onto his folded up hands on the countertop to look up at you. “You love me.”

“Yeah, but right now I’m about to donkey kick you.” Dragging the liner across your eyelid you can see him moving slowly toward you. “I’m serious. Pinch me and you’re gonna end up with a face full of makeup.”

His hand shoots out and he pinches you a few times in succession. You stare at him while he does it, tongue poking out of his mouth.

“So, do you want me to do your make up?”

He won’t look up at you instead keeping his fingers wound up in the fabric of your shorts.

“Maybe.” Suddenly bashful. Awfully quiet. That bouncing energy snuffed out in favor of nuzzling his cheek into his own hand still laying on the counter. “Nothin’ crazy. I just can’t ever get the eyeliner worked out.” His fingers move to the curled hem of your shorts to tug lightly and you feel your fondness for him grow another root.

“Baby, I can do it for you if you want.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

“I mean…you kind of already did that.” You smile down at him. He gives you a half nod of agreement and drops the hand tooling with your shorts. “So what are you looking for?”

“Something simple I think?”

“We leaning more Simmons or more Snider?”

“Jesus, neither. Too much.”

You consider him for a moment, tapping your pencil against your chin. You picture his big brown eyes in dark winged liner, grey smudged up under his eyebrows. A brush of blush up his cheeks. You could define those and the sides of his nose and really give him that chiseled look. You’re already subconsciously digging through your cosmetics bag for your Fire and Ice tube; you picture that blue toned red on his soft lips and you’ve made up his mind for him. There’s a merging of the cover from an old Hit Parader magazine you have hidden from Eddie and, well, Eddie.

“How do you feel about going the Tommy Lee direction?” You ask finally and Eddie gives you a grimace. He curls his lip at you and groans. “Unfortunately, yeah. I think so.”

“Perfect.”

He sits still while you work. Lets you do foundation and bronzer and blush and only asks questions in between your movements.

“Is this how much you use?”

“Let me smell that.”

“These brushes are soft.”

“That tickles, how do you do this every day?”

“Sit. Still.” You warn him, standing over him with his knees between yours. “I don’t want to poke your eye out.” You sharpen your eyeliner to a point and then grab his face to tilt it. “Close your eye.”

He keeps looking at you for a second while you stand close before he obliges and you use your thumb to pull his eyelid taut.

“You want a wing or you want it smoked?”

“Whatever you’d like.” He says in a hushed tone before pressing a dry kiss to your wrist. You watch him stay as still as he can under you, his half smile warm and relaxed. You take your time with drawing on the wing, making sure to not catch his long lashes. His eyelids twitch under the unfamiliar pressure but you go gently. You’ve got his head titled up so you can see better in the bathroom lighting and his breath breezes over your neck. He brings his hands up behind your thighs slowly so you don’t jump, just to rest them there while you lean over his face. You get the liner done and he stays leaned back but peeks out at you from low lids.

“Ah, not yet.” You drop the liner and dig around for your little quad set of grey shadows. “I got this and lipstick left.” You hold the little plastic case up with the tube of lipstick.

“Lipstick too?”

“You said you wanted makeup, I’m giving you makeup.” You rub your thumb into the shimmery grey and smudge it under the front of his eyebrow in the divot there. He pinches his eyebrows close when you do that, huffing through his nose.

“Oh you’re fine.” You drop the shadow and move to open your lipstick but he opens his eyes and looks up at you with shining eyes. His hands grip a little tighter on your thighs and you take a deep breath.

“You have such pretty eyes.” You push his hair back, dragging your thumb over his forehead.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously. Got them big ‘ol cow eyes.” A kiss on the tip of his nose. “Big brown cosmos.” Another kiss between his brows. “What secrets are you hiding in there? Hm?” Two light kisses on the crinkled outer corners of his eyes so you don’t disturb his makeup. Eddie laughs, his cheeks pinker than the blush you’d brushed on.

“Stop.”

“What?” You run your hands into his hair to hold him back. “Telling the truth? Do you want me to lie Eddie?”

“No but…”

“Is it because I used pretty?”

Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn’t make contact with you again, instead choosing to stare at the plain white shower curtain. “No, pretty is fine.”

“You are though.” You give his head a little wiggle so he looks at you again. “Pretty. Especially your eyes.”

He keeps blushing and laughing quietly, a small pinch in his smile that makes you keep going.

“I’m serious. All you gotta do is flash those cry baby eyes at me and I’ll do whatever you need.”

“Pfft, sure.”

“You wanna try it out, sucker? Ask me anything.”

He searches your face full of glee before he makes his eyes big and round, a little pout on his lips.

“Will you pretty please finish this makeup so I can look?” He says in a rarely used baby voice. You gasp comically loud and pop open the lipstick with your thumb.

“For you baby? Anything.” You make your voice low and husky on the ‘anything’. Pinch his cheeks between your fingers so he’ll purse his lips and he makes like a goldfish and makes kissy noises while you try to smooth on the bright red lipstick.

It’s a feat for sure and you only have to wipe away a few mistakes but you lean back finally and observe your work, his face still pinched between your fingers.

“Can I look now?” He mumbles.

“Let me fix your hair.” You rake it back down his forehead and fluff up the crown of his head to try and get that hair sprayed look. “Okay. Don’t laugh, I’ve never done makeup on a boy before.”

He spins up off the toilet lid to grab the counter and stare closely at himself. You hold your breath, hoping he doesn’t think you’ve made him look like a clown. His eyes zoom around all corners of his face and he pokes and prods at newly painted skin. He moves his head around to different angles and when he looks down his nose you bite your lips between your teeth to hold in an excited whine.

He looks like the cover of that Hit Parader. Eyes half lidded, mouth open on a slight grin.

You’d die if Eddie found your small stash of Motley Crue posters, but he’s giving you a pretty solid copy of Tommy Lee and you have to hold your hands together to stop from groping him.

“Do you like it?” You whisper behind your clasped hands. Eddie raises his eyebrows and looks at you in the mirror over his shoulder.

“Did you make me look like that magazine shoved under your mattress?” The way your face falls makes him laugh and turn around. “Oh baby, it’s okay! They’re pretty I get it!” You try to back up but the door stops you and Eddie gets his arms wrapped around you so he can smush you into his chest.

“Eddie! Why are you digging around my room!” You yell into his shirt and he just laughs at your minor distress.

“I was looking for a vibrator that I’m sure you have and I found your dirty secrets in that shoebox.” He shifts side to side rocking the two of you while you pound weakly on his chest with your trapped fists. “Motley Crue and Poison? What terrible taste in music!”

“It’s not the music it’s the men in lipstick! I was weak! I am weak!” You wail, still pounding.

“I know baby, pretty boys in eyeliner.” He places a fat kiss on your cheek, leaving a big red lip print. “Oh now that’s pretty.” He gives you another one next to that and when you start laughing he starts pecking around your face until you look like a bugs bunny cartoon. “All you need are little hearts coming off your head and I’ve got a whole Tex Avery cartoon to myself.” He laughs and you slap his shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Good.”

He walks you into the door and you run the tip of your thumb along the feathered edge of his lips.

“Do you like it enough to let me make a mess of it?” Your thumb pulls his lip down to create a smear of red down his chin.

Eddie gets a look in his eye. “Are you trying to Kickstart My Heart?” He can barely make it through his terrible pun without laughing and you groan like you’re in physical pain.

“Please get the fuck out of my house.”

“Nope, I’m Dr. Feelgood and I’m here to make you feel alright.”

“That wasn’t even good!”

Eddie shuts you up with a kiss, lipstick sliding over your bare lips and you forget about his teasing. When he turns you back to the counter and helps you sit on the edge he wedges himself between your thighs and gets in your space, breath mingling with yours. His eyes flick down to your lips to survey his smeared damage.

“That color looks good on you.”

“It looks good on you too.”

“I think it’d look good in other places too.” He wiggles his eyebrows and leans in to attack your neck and if he spends the next hour leaving red marks in hard to reach places, that’s between you and him and your hidden posters.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Fluff #My Work #My Fic #Spotify

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ateezreactionsandscenarios · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 16 - Voyeurism

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Genre: Smut

CW: Voyeurism, masturbation (M), Jongho is a perv.

Word Count: 1151

Summary: Jongho has a dirty habit, he knows it’s wrong but he can’t help it, his neighbour just looks too good and tonight of all nights a part of his fantasies plays out in front of him.

Prompt List MasterList Kintktober 2022 Buy me a Coffee

Walking into his room after a long day of filming, the only thing on Jongho's mind right now was sleep. Never before had his bed looked so inviting, not having the energy to get changed he simply striped down to just his boxers and flopped onto the bed, not even bothering to draw the curtains closed. Sleep was postponed as his phone blew up as it usually did, the rest of the group chatting about how the day went, but that only lasted briefly until the topic changed to food. Jongho groaned in frustration, he’d gone passed the level of tired he was feeling when he got home and now was a bit more awake so sleep was not going to come easily anymore.

Scrolling through his phone waiting for exhaustion to finally take over he slowly starts to give up, thinking it might be best just to stare at the ceiling until he passes out, but that’s when you showed up. The light from your bedroom shone through your window casting a small light into his room which caught his attention. “She’s home.” He said to himself, sitting up and peering out the window to see you walking around your room. You’d been his neighbour for a little over a year now and as time had gone on Jongho had developed a habit with you, one of which you were completely unaware of which he was thankful about, if one day you’d ever caught him he might just die on the spot of embarrassment, but that never stopped him carrying on.

Throwing his phone to the side Jongho crawled towards the foot of the bed to get a better look at you. You weren’t doing anything interesting just simply walking around your room pulling items from your bag and putting them back where they belonged before walking out. Jongho rested his chin in his hands with a sigh, it looked like tonight wasn’t going to be a night for his habit but he continued to watch your empty room in hopes that you’d return.

Jongho was just about to give up again, that was until you walked into the room covered only by a towel wrapped around your body and another wrapped around your hair. Clueless to the fact you’re being watched you go about your usual nightly routine, dropping the towel from your hair and applying your skin care and various lotions to your arms and legs all while Jongho sits at the edge of his bed watching every small movement growing harder by the second. He thought it was insane how actions so innocent drove him crazy with lust, it’s not like you were putting on a show for him or walking around completely naked, you were covered by a towel and going about daily tasks, but it was just something in him that couldn’t take his eyes off you and stop the growing bulge in his boxers which he was now palming, savouring the slight friction the fabric and his hand gave him.

Taking his cock out from the confines of his boxers he begins to slowly stroke himself as he pictured what could be hiding under your towel and how soft your skin would feel against his if only he was given a chance. The image of you under him free from your towel danced around in his head as his movements started to gain speed.

His mind was sent into overdrive the moment you dropped something on the floor, bending down to pick it up Jongho had a great view of your cleavage as his eyes looked down the towel, the image adding truths to his fantasy painting an even better picture in his head. His cock twitched in his hand as his eyes scanned over you, the way your hair dripped water down the crevice between your breasts had him softly moaning to himself, his mind replacing the water with an image of it being his cum.

He was just about ready to explode when you stood back up, the towel losing it’s grip on you, falling to the floor in a heap leaving you completely naked and on show for Jongho. He stopped all movement for a second not believing what he was seeing. You stood up looking down at the towel then briefly to yourself then shrugging leaving the towel where it was and carrying on with what you were doing. Jongho couldn’t believe his eyes, you didn’t care that you were naked and your curtains open for anyone to see. Watching you walk around the room and how your breasts bounced ever so slightly with each step brought Jongho a lot closer to his release than he thought it would, usually he’d only get to see you in a towel, or if he was lucky, your underwear, but this was something else, he no longer had to imagine what you looked like under the towel, it was all on show for him right now.

He didn’t want to waste any time, you could leave the room or turn off the light at any moment, he needed to be fast, make the most of what he had while he had it. His hand pumped his cock like his life depended on it, the soft sound of skin hitting skin filled his room along with the low grunts leaving him. His mind was flooded with fantasies of what he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to touch you, where he wanted to touch you, what you would sound like as he pleasured you. He wanted to close his eyes to let the bliss wash over him but he daren’t do such a thing, for all he knew you’d be gone when he opened his eyes.

He could feel his orgasm approaching fast, cock twitching in his hand dying for release. His groans turned to whimpers, sensitivity building as his mind fogged over with lust. It didn’t take much longer before he was shooting ropes of cum over his hand, such a simple act of you tying your hair back as you looked out the window made him lose all composure. Breathy moans leaving him as he rides out his high desperately trying to keep his eyes on you but the weight of his eyelids were getting to much to keep them open.

Slowly opening his eyes, panting heavily, it was like you knew exactly what was going on. Exhaustion taking over him as the effects of his orgasm began to fade, you pulled the curtains of your window shut, ending his show. He let out a small huff of laughter, the timing of it all was perfect, like it was meant to happen and when it was over, just like in the theatre, the curtain drops. It seemed to be exactly what he needed to get to sleep and it was all thanks to you.

Tag list: @kpopcrossworlds @kpopjust4u @whatudowhennooneseesyou @8tinytings @jenotation @grim-adventures58 @owjohny @ker1 @hellomingi @ate-ez @steponmesannie @azeret98 @wubbster @eternalhongshine @sansluvr

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faceglitchsworld · 9 months

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In the 9th of January, a group was born to bring us joy and wonderful music. This group came from the moon. Each member had bond with it. And today, they're celebrating five years together with their precious moon, us.

Happy Anniversary, Oneus 🥺

Last year I decided to dedicate a birthday letter for each member of the group and now I want to give a last tribute by writing another letter to them. And I added a drawing of mine here.

I don't post my drawings on main, I have a sideblog for it, but for this anniversary I decided to do an exception. It's not the best drawing I made since I didn't hold a pencil in months and I still need to work on their officials mascots' designs better. Surely you'll see them a little different if I'll make fanarts of them more often.

But wait, the drawing is just a part of this post, there something more to add here.

Dear Oneus, another year has passed and you've turned five years old. I wanted for this day to come. The number five has become a very special number for you and, on a minor part, to me. I confess that I'm a little biased because your brother group has five members too along with another group who's very special to me. But it's not only that. I always loved and appreciated all the effort you've put last year, you worked hard on everything you put. Seeing all of you putting all these energy in everything, even the most simple one, made me wish for a break for you. I'm still saying it, even though I know you're quite slowling down a little with your activities recently. But I can't trust you. You're always so full of energy that you don't want to stop, aren't you? You love us to the point that you would spent every inch of energy just for us, am I right? But despite this, I really want all of you to take a little break, something that would made you recharge and coming back fresh and with new energy. Last year you finally got the occasion to see Europeans ToMoons showering with love during your concerts, I'm petty sure you've been surprised by how the crowd cheered you. I wasn't there, sadly. But during the tour I always had you in my mind and my heart, hoping that each concert would have turned to the best. I really wish that you'll come back here and, who knows, maybe you'll finally see me in the crowd too. I'm just another fan for you, I already know that, but I would be very happy if I'll finally have the occasion to see you. You're special to me, you've become one if not the most important group I could find, I don't know what would have happened if I couldn't have found you. Maybe my life would have been the same but probably less colourful than what it is now. I wouldn't have found the same joy I have now just by being by your side.

I already wished the best to each one of you last year, writing all my birthday letters and making the best wish I could say to each one of you. But I want to renew my promise.

Seoho, I hope you'll give us more and more songs where you can show us your voice and comfort us when we are at our lows. You have millions of fans who love you and thank you every day just for existing. Please, when you feel down, think about us and the lovely messages we send to you every day.

Leedo, I wish you'll write more and more songs for us as time passes. I've fallen in love with your poetry and your way to express your inner world and I want to see more of it. My biggest wish for you is that, one day, I'll see your name on a Oneus' title track. You deserve to show us more of you and I assure you that, no matter the result, I'll be glad to see you express yourself more through the music.

Keonhee...I would be repetitive with you. I already expressed my love to you when I celebrated your birthday. And like that day, I can't express how much I love you. You comforted me so many times this year, especially towards the end, that I can't thank you enough. I just wish that you'll be always protected and that you'll find the same comfort I found. But I know that you already found your special place. Oneus is your special place and I wish it will always be.

Hwanwoong, I wish for you that more and more people will appreciate how much artistry you are when you dance. It's sad that last year not so many people understood that but don't make it too much of a worry. Your moves, even the littlest one, show how much effort and creativity you give to us every time. Please, don't give up. You are our little tiger, our special tiger, a tiger with the biggest fierce and strength we can never see.

Xion, this is the first time in ages that I call you like this instead of Dongju. You don't know how many times your stage name brought to me the memories of Kingdom Hearts and you keep doing it. I just wish that, this year, you'll finally have your moment; your "main protagonist" moment where you'll finally shine and prove to everyone how much you've grown. If I'm here, it's also thanks to you. You've been the key who opened the door to the world of Oneus.

I think I've spent too many words already. I really want to say more but my language can't contain or express the love I have for each one of you. I can't say more, except "I love you".

Happy anniversary, Oneus, for the next five years and beyond.

#did I already tell you that I don't know how to draw birds?#btw do you like this experiment? I might do the same for the other groups I covered last year #with skz it will fun #idk what I'll come up with atz because they have their animals but some of them changed (?) source: the birthday lives #n.flying and onewe will get their own this is sure #oneus

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dramatic-squirrel · 2 years

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Daminette December 2022 Day 2- Baby

@maribat-calendar-events

The loud music of the carnival around them deafened their ears, but the noise didn’t deter Marinette’s excitement. It was impossible to not be excited by the rides, attractions, even the clog-your-arteries carnival food. In fact the only person more excited than Marinette was Mar’i.

It was a bit disappointing that her date with Damian got hijacked by a three-year, but if there was any three year old Marinette wanted to spend time with, it was Mar’i. She was the best, and not just because she could fly and shoot energy from her hands. No, probably the best thing was the fact that between her and Mar’i they could get away with anything, which was the best superpower.

Marinette held one of Mar’i’s hands while Damian held the other, careful to make sure no one got lost. And the little girl led them towards their first ride of the carnival, a merry-go-round.

“I refuse to ride on something as silly looking as that,” Damian immediately refused.

“Oh come one Damian, it’s not that embarrassing. And I’ll go on too.” she coaxed. “Besides,” she turned to address Mar’i, “wouldn’t you prefer to ride with Uncle Damian and me, Mar’i?”

“Yeah! Please Uncle Dami?” And then she looked at him with the most forlorn expression she could muster. To say no to that face would be beyond cruel. Without saying another word, Damian got on the ride and sulked the entire time. But that didn’t stop Marinette and Mar’i from having fun.

The next place Mar’i dragged the couple to was a carnival game. It was a simple dart throwing game, and while Mar’i could have won the game if they let her (energy blasts could do some serious damage to balloons) they convinced the toddler that she could have any prize that Marinette or Damian won.

Marinette went first, but it became pretty hard to concentrate when her boyfriend kept distracting her. “You suck at this. No not there, aim higher.”

“I know what I’m doing Damian.”

“Clearly not Angel. Here, hand it over, I’ll go twice.” He grabbed the darts from her and threw each one in quick succession. Then putting another five dollars down, he grabbed another set of darts and swiftly threw them. Needless to say, each dart hit their mark. Turning to her, he had a smug look on his face.

And even though she should have been more upset with how he ambushed her turn, she couldn’t help but look at him with love in her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you did really well,” She complimented and a faint blush began to spread across Damian’s face. “What prizes do you want Mar’i?”

Mar’i looked at the selection of stuffed animals before pointing to two of them “The birdy and the bug.” Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold on to them while Damian and Marinette held her hand, so she gave each of them one plushie. To Marinette, she gave the blue jay and to Damian the ladybug. Soon her attention was drawn to something else. “I wanna do that!” she cried, pointing to a face painting stall.

“Of course. What do you want? Hearts? Bats? Or maybe some butterflies?”

“Stars! Just like Mommy.”

“Ok. And what about you Damian?” The look of horror that crossed his face made Marinette burst out laughing.

“The merry-go-round was one thing, but I draw the line here,” he scowled at the two of them, preparing for what they might throw his way.

“Well, I think I’ll go for some flowers. And for you…” she pretended to think for a bit. “...what do you think Mar’i?”

“A cat! He can match Alfred the cat!”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Our grumpy cat needs some whiskers so everyone knows to stay away.”

Damian didn’t comment but a bad feeling began to settle in his gut. It was proven right when ten minutes later he ended up in the chair. He wasn’t even sure how it happened but he knew he wasn’t the only one to give way to Mar’i and Marinette. Even Alfred the butler couldn’t resist.] the two of them combined.

“Oh come on Damian. It’s not so bad.” Damian looked away, giving her the silent treatment. “Seriously, it’s less of a cat and more like a tiger, it looks cool.” And Damian knew she was only placating him, but nonetheless, he began to feel a bit more comfortable with his new feline features. That was until Grayson showed up and ruined the whole thing.

“Oh my god… Damian, you look so cute!” A flash went off before Damian could look away, murder in his eyes.

“Daddy!” Mar’i practically flew into Grayson’s arms. “I want to tell you all about the things we did.”

“And I’d love to hear it.” Before Mar’i could go on a long tangent, Damian interrupted.

“Delete that picture this instant, Grayson, or I will skewer you with my katana the next time we spar.”

“Oooh, send that pic to me Dick. Also real quick, take one of me and Damian together.” Marinette pulled Damian close, both for the photo and to prevent him from maiming Dick. Another flash went off. “Awesome. Thanks Dick.”

“Sure, no problem. Thanks for taking care of Mar’i for me and Kor’i.”

“It’s fine, Mar’i’s a joy to be around. I hope I have a baby as sweet as her one day.” At Marinette’s words Dick got a sly look on his face.

“Oh my, I didn’t realize you were already thinking about having kids with Damian, little bug.” For the first time that night Marinette’s face erupted into flames. She hid her face beneath her hands.

“Please forget I said that,” the muffled words were just barely audible.

“Did you think of names already?” Dick ignored her. “What about you Damian? Do you hope that they’ll have her eyes?” The murderous aura around Damian increased.

Grabbing Marinette’s hand, he dragged her away from Grayson, while simultaneously scrubbing the paint off of his face. “We’re leaving. The longer we listen to your idiotic babble the more stupid we become.”

Dick couldn’t resist one final shot. “Don’t go trying to make those babies now! Act responsibly and wait for marriage!” Marinette swore her face couldn’t get more red.

#daminette December 2022 #daminette december #daminette #maribat #maribat evet #i wrote this for the face painting scene #also no clue how a three year old talks

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classpectingcaxy · 4 months

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could i have an analysis on a rouge of life?

Rogue of Life, hm?

Alright! Analysis below the cut!

Rogue

A Rogue is a selfless theft class. They're opposite to Thieves, despite both functioning similarly.

Rogues steal their aspect and redistribute it among others, serving as a sort of "Robin Hood" of their aspect, taking from those sources of abundance and providing to those who lack it.

They seem to be a magnet to their aspect as well, not quite generating it, but rather surrounded by it. This means they rarely lack a source to draw from, and always having a good idea of where it could be put to better use.

Rogues are typically selfless to a fault, fully aware of the harm they're doing themselves, but slave to their desire to see others prosper regardless of their own situation. This leads to push-overs, yes-men, and the like, with one exception.

Some Rogues utilize their inherent "take-to-give" nature to "take" whatever benefit they might find by avoiding sacrificing their emotions or well-being and "give" benefit to others by doing so, actively picking and choosing when to withhold that benefit and when to give up their time, energy, and well-being.

This leads to many rogues being "yes, sir, thank you, sir" types, with the exception to that rule being exactly what we see with Roxy; fiercely aware of the harm that could be done through their self-sacrifice and giving in whenever it would do more good than harm, but biting back adamantly when it would do more harm than good.

Life

Life is the aspect of beginnings, growth, literal life, and nature. Life players are an odd bunch, and they're difficult to categorize. Meenah, one Life player, believed death was the ultimate way to achieve perfection and that those she deemed "unfit" would serve the world better dead. Feferi, on the other hand, another Life player, believed the opposite, that life should be preserved in all its forms, and death should be avoided at all costs.

Not only this, but the two were as opposite as could be, personality wise, except for one, very powerful, trait.

They both believed they knew best, and became frustrated with those who disagreed.

We can gather, fairly well, that Life players are adamant and picky. They feel they know the right way of doing things, and are easily frustrated by those who disagree. Beyond that, there's little to base it off of, but Life players also seem to be more likely to be in positions of power over others. Meenah and Feferi were both future-rulers, destined to take over the world, for example.

So I believe Life players, whether it be simply power over the few or power over the many, are in positions of authority, or are well-suited to it.

Rogue of Life

A Rogue of Life is one who steals Life from sources of abundance and re-distributes it to sources lacking in it. They would be extremely rooted in their belief that they know best, their Life nature making them certain they know the best way of doing things, and their Rogue nature leading them towards servitude more often than not, they would likely be adept at finding the best ways to achieve the goals of others.

This means a Rogue of Life would be an excellent support for your team, being incredibly skilled at not only finding the perfect way to execute a plan to serve your team's goals, but they would be eager to do so, and their abilities would serve them well in making that happen.

However, it also means the Rogue is FAR more likely to be the OTHER type of Rogue, the one who is keenly aware of what will do more harm than good and outright refuses to aid in anything that will do such.

This means a Rogue of Life is an invaluable and irreplaceable asset on any team, skilled at analyzing the circumstances and identifying what is and isn't worth the effort or risk, and when they deem a project worthy, it's unlikely for them to fail unless stopped by things either beyond their control or simply far bigger/more powerful than they are.

I once heard it best put as "I am your White Mage. You don't F*CK with the White Mage."

That describes the Rogue of Life perfectly. Not only are they likely to be your most powerful Healer, but they're going to know EXACTLY what is and isn't worth their effort and, if you present them an idea, they will know exactly how best to achieve it and whether or not your way is good, bad, great, or stupid.

And if you get rid of the Rogue of Life in any way, be it killing them, turning them against the team, or whatever else, you've just secured victory because unless that team has a strong enough synergy to make up for the loss, losing the Rogue of Life is a death sentence. They are very, VERY valuable players.

#class #classpect #aspect #analysis #ask #answer #request #homestuck

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sincerely-sofie · 4 months

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Hello Sofie! Feel free to ignore this ask if it’s too personal. I wanted to ask if there were ever times you questioned your faith/beliefs? While I’m not super religious, I am faithful to the one I am aligned too, but I find myself almost giving up on it. I’m kind of struggling with it atm. If you have questioned it, what brought you back to it?

There have absolutely been times I've questioned my faith and beliefs— heck, there have been times I flip flopped between identifying as an agnostic and even atheist! I struggled to feel the Spirit during these moments in my life, which was the root of my wavering faith, I think— so I gave myself time to feel the Spirit again.

Sometimes our ability to feel the influence of God wanes. In my church, it's an established facet of the doctrine that anxiety, depression, and other mental illnesses can dampen or even entirely block one's ability to feel the Spirit for a time. That doesn't mean God has stopped trying to talk to you— it just means your metaphorical phone's cell reception is exceptionally spotty at the moment. At those times, it's important to stay where you can feel God's love, even if you don't feel it right at this very moment.

For me personally, what helped me revitalize my zest for my religion was just staying in the boat, so to speak. I still went to church. I still prayed when I usually prayed. I still participated in family scripture study. I was frequently depressed and lacked energy as a result, so I struggled to read the scriptures on my own time... So I started watching the videos my church puts out to inspire and uplift people instead. It was less intensive and shame-inducing than my ADHD-uphill-battles to read the scriptures, and it really helped me feel the Spirit in special little glimpses when I hadn't felt it for months beforehand.

There's a bigger thing that I started doing, though, and I credit it with giving me a strong bond with and confidence in God. I started praying a lot. I didn't spend my entire day on my knees with my arms folded and eyes closed, though. I would pray in my thoughts as I went about my tasks. I'd be doing homework and feeling horrible and anxious beyond words, and I'd lean back in my seat and vent to God. "Heavenly Father, the teacher didn't even mention this topic in our lessons! I'm so frustrated! Why would someone not teach something that's on their test?! It's so stupid! I'm so stupid! Why can't I get this right?" I'd be super passionate about a fandom or a ship and ramble to Him about it while drawing in my sketchbook. "They're such a cute couple, I don't get why [Friend's Name] doesn't ship them. Her ship is cute too though, so I guess it makes sense. I really love this one song from the soundtrack— it's got this amazing part towards the middle with a violin and piano, and it gives me goosebumps whenever I listen to it, and..."

It wasn't all the time, but I would occasionally get these moments where I could feel His joy when I was happy and His sorrow when I was mean to myself. And the more I watched videos that uplifted me (I watched this one over and over, and it moves me to tears and makes me feel heard and loved even to this day) and prayed and put myself in situations where I could possibly feel spiritually invigorated, over time I started to feel the Holy Ghost more and more, until I could finally live life with the former passion I had for my religion— and even eventually surpass it to a whole new level.

For a TL;DR of what principles restored my zest for my faith— keep doing the things that once made you feel spiritual, even if they don't immediately reinvigorate you. Pray to God like you're on the phone with a friend. If mental illness is making it hard for you to worship, adapt to and overcome those trials however you can (like listening to scriptures as audiobooks if you have a hard time reading, listening to hymns if you have a stupor of thought while praying, or watching inspirational church videos if you can't focus on verses whether they're written or spoken aloud). Wait it out. Eventually, if you keep doing the things that once brought the Spirit into your life, it will come back, and with it will come the fire in your heart for your faith.

#sorry for taking a while to answer— i wanted to write out as good of a response as i could manage!#i hope it helps a little bit.#I'm praying for you.#sofie answers asks

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ghostussy · 2 years

Text

Terzo and Copia x (neurodivergent) overstimulated reader

Google translated Italian ahead

(Get your mind out of the gutter weirdos)

Reader has some form of neurodivergency. I have adhd so this will be leaning more towards that but feel free to use your imagination! Also a disclaimer, I know this isn’t usually how people respond to overstimulation in public, but honestly there are some days that I wish I could so yeah :)

/ / /

Mass had just started.

You sat in the back of the church, in the last few rows; there were always less people there, and you found it easier to focus on the sermon. Not today though; you couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but you simply couldn’t pay attention. You weren’t sure if it was because you had woken up late, or if maybe it was because you had skipped breakfast, or maybe the lights were a little off. Maybe it was all three.

You suddenly became hyper-aware of all the things happening around you. At the front of the church, Primo was speaking too loudly; the lights were too bright, too many people in the pews were whispering, the building was too cold. You felt a twinge of fear tighten in your chest, threatening to climb into your throat; you tried your best to ignore it. After all, you couldn’t just leave. Well, you supposed you could, but then everyone would watch you go; you couldn’t stand the thought of being the center of attention. Not now.

You watched the clock as the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. You tried to busy yourself by looking around the room; anything to try to change your focus. When that didn’t work, you removed your glasses and plugged your ears, keeping your elbows down to keep from drawing too much attention to you. You looked up at Primo, watching as he continued to speak, though you couldn’t understand a word that he was saying. You noticed Primo glance in your direction a few times, but you didn’t think anything further of it. You didn’t have the energy to do so anyway.

To your surprise, you heard Primo stop the sermon; this caught you off guard since you weren’t even halfway through the service. You managed to hear him say, “I will give you fifteen minutes to ponder my words. During this time, please feel free to use the restroom or chat with each other. I will be back shortly.” He then gave a thoughtful nod and walked off the stage. Immediately the volume in the room increased unbearably, everyone speaking all at once.

Now was your chance. You quickly stood up, weaving through the crowd as you continued covering your ears. You couldn’t pay attention to those around you, clumsily bumping into people as you mumbled apologies in your haste. It’s too loud, you thought; you had to get out of here. You were so close to a meltdown, you could feel it. Tears formed in your eyes; you had to leave. Now.

Finally you made it into the hallway. It was quiet here, and there was no one around. You uncovered your ears and turned a corner, running into somebody at full speed.

“Ah, merda- I’m terribly sorry, dear. Are you alright?” Terzo stood in front of you, looking concerned. “I was just looking for you... Where are your glasses?”

That was the final straw. “Oh no- I-I left them, oh no-” tears were falling now, and you stumbled over your words. You knew you had to go back into the chapel, fight through the crowd and listen to everyone talking over each other. You couldn’t express this verbally, however; all Terzo heard were choked sobs as you blubbered out nonsense.

Now he was twice as concerned as before. Luckily, he recognized your behavior; after all, he had helped Copia through many meltdowns. “Oh, cara,” he spoke gently, then used his hands to cup your face. “Look at me. Take deep breaths- In, and out. In, and out. There we go. Keep breathing. It’s okay.”

You finally were able to begin collecting your thoughts; the deep breaths gave you a second to calm down and figure out what the issue what. However, now you found yourself unable to speak, and unable to tell Terzo what was wrong.

“Oh, bambina- can you tell me what happened to your glasses? Surely you cannot see.”

You flapped your hands a bit, then finally pointed to the doors of the chapel. He seemed to understand.

“Oh! You left them in the pew? That’s alright, I will go fetch them. I understand that it is too loud for your little ears, no? Just wait right here, I will be back.” He ruffled your hair, then disappeared back around the corner. You took this time to sit on the floor against the wall, bringing your knees to your chest. You covered your ears and closed your eyes, trying to drown out the remaining lights and noise. It was all too much, and it hurt immensely. You debated skipping the rest of mass.

It wasn’t long before Terzo returned with your glasses. He crouched down on the floor in front of you, tapping your arm gently. You looked up at him, and he noticed the pain in your eyes. He handed you your glasses, which you held in your hand instead of putting them back on your face. He held a hand out to you and helped you to your feet, then continued holding your free hand so as to lead you somewhere.

You followed him obediently, not saying a word. You couldn’t; you still couldn’t find the words. You fidgeted with his hand still in yours, squirming your fingers and squeezing his hand. He squeezed your hand back reassuringly.

Eventually, he led you to a dark room far away from the chapel. You recognized it as one of the Ministry’s many sensory rooms; Sister Imperator had insisted that they were needed, and for that you were thankful. Along one wall was a small set of storage cubbies holding soundproof headphones, fidget toys, plush animals, and blankets, as well as some other stuff. There was also a single lamp, casting the room in a dark, comfortable glow. Throughout the rest of the room were different seating choices, such as a sensory swing, beanbag chairs, and a giant couch.

Terzo brought you over to the couch, prompting you to take a seat. He took your glasses from your hand and set them on a nearby table. “Alright, tesoro. What can I get for you?”

You struggled to find the words at first, but after a moment, you found yourself able to speak again. “A blanket, please.”

“Would you like a pair of headphones?”

You shook your head no. They felt so big on your head; you preferred to cover your ears if you needed to.

He brought over a soft blanket. It was blue with a starry night sky as a design. “Would you like me to lay with you?” You nodded yes.

You stood, allowing him to lie down on the couch. Then you laid on top of him and curled up he draped the blanket over the two of you. “There we go,” he spoke softly. “All nice and cozy. Are we feeling better now?” You nodded once again, burying your face in his chest. “Good, very good.” He ran his hand along your back.

You found your voice once more. You didn’t have much energy or space to move your hands to stim, but you could stim vocally. “Can I...make noise?” you asked him.

“Certainly.”

You immediately started stimming; you tapped your hand lightly on his chest as you made a series of chirps and clicks with your mouth. After a moment the stims slowed, and you found yourself calming down. You decided to speak.

“Papa? Why did Primo decide to stop the sermon?”

“Ah, well- you see-” he was suddenly interrupted by the door being thrown open. You flinched at the sudden noise, looking up to see a very distraught looking Copia.

“Ah! So sorry- s- sorry to intrude,” he managed. “I will go.”

“Fratello, attendere prego. Vuoi unirti a noi? (*brother, please wait. Do you want to join us?)”

“Ah- I do not- do not wish to intrude.” He wrung his hands, turning to leave.

“You would not intrude. Please, come here. I know it is loud in the halls.” He stood, leaving you on the couch. He walked over to the cubby, grabbing an armful of blankets and tossing them on the floor. He did the same with all the pillows in the room, creating a nest of sorts. “There is not enough space for the three of us on the couch. However, the two of you may join me on the floor if you’d like.” He laid down, patting the empty spaces next to him. You were quick to join him, curling up in the crook of his arm in a tangle of blankets. Copia stood off to the side awkwardly, unsure of what to do. “Brother, you do not intrude. Please, lie down. I know your head aches.”

Copia let out a defeated sigh, slowly easing onto the floor. He left a couple of feet of space in between him and his brother, only to be pulled closer by Terzo. He ran his free hand through the tired man’s hair, causing him to sigh. Copia grabbed a blanket, curling up closer to his brother. It wasn’t long before his fingers lost their grip on the blanket, and light snores were leaving his mouth. Obviously the service had taken it’s toll on him as well.

“Terzo?” you asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“You never said why Primo stopped mass.”

“Ah, yes. He took notice of yourself and my brother’s conditions. He sent me to come find you as well.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I never meant to interrupt the service!”

“It’s quite alright. It was clear that Copia was struggling greatly as well. Neither of you can help it.” He ran his other hand through your hair. “It is simply something that happens sometimes.”

You relaxed into his touch. The sharp edges of your meltdown had worn off, now replaced with fatigue. He took notice of the glazed look in your eyes.

“You may sleep, giovane. It is alright. I will be here.”

You raised a fist to rub at your eyes, now stifling a yawn. A sleepy whine left your lips. “I’m not tired, though.”

He chuckled. “Alright, then. Suit yourself.” He continued playing with your hair, humming softly in your ear as he did so. You felt your heartbeat slow and your breaths even out, your eyes half-lidded. You fought it for a few moments, until the sleepy feeling became too great for you to handle. Finally you let yourself drift off, allowing the world to fade gently as you lay contentedly in Terzo’s secure hold.

#papa terzo #Terzo x reader #cardinal copia #copia comfort #autistic copia #drabbles

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