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#it's basically a big testament to the fact that this is a big fight you can't come back from

dailydemonspotlight · 3 days

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Will you do Beelzebub? One of my all-time favorite demons!

Beelzebub - Day 50!!!

Race: Tyrant

Alignment: Dark-Chaos

June 7th, 2024

This was a long time coming. I mean, come on, he's literally in my header! Beelzebub and SMT go hand in creepy pincer, the lord of flies appearing in nearly every Megaten game to date and having major roles in several, including an infamous boss fight in Nocturne. While not the king of demons, Beelzebub is among the most powerful, often contending with Satan himself! Today's Demon of the Day needs no introduction- the Demon of Gluttony, Lord of the Flies, Beelzebub. One of the most prevalent and powerful demons in demonology, this diseased despot represents not only a bastardization of Baal but also insects, envy, and excess, all of which make the lord of the flies a powerful figure in demonic circles. Without any further ado, let's dig in!

Satan almighty, where do I even begin with Beelzebub? As one of the many Kings of Hell, the amount of lore in Beelzebub's story paints a fascinating picture of not only the demon itself, but also Christianity, demonology, and how religious concepts change and are passed from area to area over time, corrupting into different forms to fit differing agendas. I guess, to start, we should look into the earliest ever mention of the Lord of the Flies, an offhand comment in the Books of Kings, a pair of books in the old testament that serve as a bedrock to the history of ancient Israel. In one of these books, King Ahaziah of the Northern Kingdom of Israel had been hurt. Bad.

After a severe injury from a fall, he sent several of his messengers to inquire about the god of a nearby kingdom, Ekron, a city ruled by the Philistines. This god, of course, was none other than Beelzebub, given the epithet 'Baʿal-zəvuv.' Terrified for his life, the king sent his people to ask that god as to if he would recover... which made a wandering prophet, Elijah, rather furious. After an angel of God visited the prophet, basically calling the king an idiot for not recognizing the fact that Israel is the holy ground for the big man upstairs, Elijah went to visit the king and delivered the message that he would die before the servants sent to inquire about Baʿal-zəvuv could return. Unsurprisingly, the king ended up dying after putting his faith in a false prophet.

This tale has several aspects to it which are curious- if you'll remember our Baal DDS, Beelzebub effectively takes the role of Baal in one of the stories outlined, wherein the faith of a man is tested against a god of another religion. Combine that with the fact that Beelzebub's name in this tale, Baʿal-zəvuv, quite literally has the term Ba'al in it, and it becomes somewhat suspect- it can easily be intuited that Beelzebub was, in effect, a different name or interpretation of Baal. This theory is confirmed later on in the text, however- the name for Beelzebub given also has a translation, roughly meaning "Lord of [the] Flies," and an earlier text by a cult which worshipped Ba'al also states that he was capable of summoning flies to cause illness. Curious! Another theory as to Baʿal-zəvuv's name actually originates as a pun- some people speculate that the deity's original name to this hitherto unmentioned cult of Philistines could have been "Baʿal zəvul," a name translating roughly to 'Lord of the Heavenly Dwelling.' Possibly after a bit of transliteration and puns, that name could've been shifted derogatorily into being Baʿal-zəvuv. It would explain why the term is so specific, as it could've originated as a pun and a twist on Ba'al's powers according to Canaanite myth, but this is debated somewhat.

Nomenclature aside, however, there's still more to this demon- while Beelzebub is believed to be based on Ba'al, it quickly spun off into its own figure in the Testament of Solomon, a non-canonical book related to the story of King Solomon, the first demon summoner. Yep, it's Solomon again! Almost every capital-D-Demon has something to do with his majesty, given that most of them originate from texts regarding him. And yet he still hasn't appeared in the SMT series. Cowards. Appearing again, though with a different name this time, far closer to the now common reading, Beelzebul appears as a demonic prince representing the planet Venus. However, another knot is thrown into this tale as, this time, Beelzebub is synonymous with Lucifer! The things Beelzebul is described as doing are things that, in almost any other Christian text, would have been done by Lucifer- whether it be through depositing despots into positions of power or inciting demonic worship, the text describes Beelzebul as being one and the same with the Prince of Hell.

While this is the origin of the common conflation of Lucifer and Beelzebub, we need to jump forward a bit more to get the canonical texts related to this buzzing bastard- Beelzebub is one of the very few Demons actually mentioned in the Bible by name. Appearing first in Mark 3:22, a group of scribes accuse our boy Jeezy-C of using the power of Beelzebul to drive out demons. In future expansions of the text, he is also brought up in several Matthew verses. To quote Matthew 12:25-28,

Jesus knew their thoughts and said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand. If Satan drives out Satan, he is divided against himself. How then can his kingdom stand? And if I drive out demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your people drive them out? So then, they will be your judges. But if I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you."

Yes, I am reciting scripture, but look, it comes with the territory. While in the original translation, Beelzebub is referred to as Beelzebul, later translations take a few liberties; in the Syriac translation, per instance, Beelzeboul is the new name. This fly has way too many names. Jesus Christ. While this translation mistake was repeated in the King James version of the Bible, most current day translations simply refer to Beelzebub as, well, Beelzebub. Thank god. Or Satan. Or King James. In everyone's favorite first apocalypse story, the New Testament, Beelzebub finally makes a formal debut! I told you there was a lot to dig into with this guy.

Beelzebub finally appears, not in the form of an Ekronite god nor an offhand mention, as the Prince of Demons, appearing in the place of the Devil. Yes, again. This is getting frustrating. In older texts, from what I can tell, this was never truly the case- the melding together of the King of the Flies and the King of Hell was a later addition by the authors of the New Testament, who were probably just having a laugh at future demonologists. As mentioned earlier, Beelzebub was mentioned as simply a powerful demon by some scribes who were cussing out Jesus, so this sudden ascension to the throne is... strange. Thankfully for my purposes, this role of his is hotly debated, but it's still frustrating that I can't trace his later characterization to any one source!

Finally, though, we have a point of reference. At long, long last. A 16th century occultist named Johann Weyer. As given in the book 'The Devil in Legend and Literature' by Rudwin Maximilian, a set of stories written by Weyer describe Beelzebub as the chief lieutenant of Lucifer's forces, having led a secondary revolution against Heaven and later retreating to Hell to follow after Lucifer's orders. This would only be a prelude to the main star story, however- none other than Paradise Lost. As described in the infamous epic, Beelzebub, finally, gets a solid role outside of being a stand-in for Lucifer or a bastardization of Ba'al- yes, we finally get Beelzebub being a King of Hell in a text! Described as being only beaten out by Satan himself in terms of strength, Beelzebub was part of the Unholy Trinity, consisting of it, Lucifer, and Astaroth. (No Malphas, unfortunately. Gary had to sit this one out.)

In Paradise Lost, Beelzebub is an incredibly powerful and influential character who serves as a driving force for the invasion of the Human world. As Satan's closest ally and proxy, Beelzebub also is representative of the deadly sin of Envy in the story. As an observation by Bradley J. Irish states, there are obvious connections drawn between Beelzebub and envy throughout the poem, and though the main focus of envy is on Satan throughout, Beelzebub himself serves an important role in going into and speaking about envy. However, this leads into a big point of contention with Beelzebub as a whole- what deadly sin he even represents.

In the book 'The Lanterne of Light' by an anonymous Lollard, a classification of the princes of hell is given, attributing Beelzebub to Envy. This book, notably, was released before Paradise Lost, which likely influenced Milton's writing of the story. However, Sébastien Michaelis, yet another demonic scholar (and one maybe familiar if you read the Asmodeus episode) described him as representative of the deadly sin of Pride. Yay! Pride Month, headed by this oversized fruit fly! However, yet again, another person argued for Beelzebub being a different sin- Peter Binsfeld's 1589 'Treatise on Confessions by Evildoers and Witches' describes Beelzebub as the demon of gluttony, and lastly, at least according to Wikipedia, another Demonologist purported that he represented idolatry.

Later on in history, once Beelzebub was a bit more solidified as a demon outside of Satan's reign, he got up to a lot of mischief- during the Salem Witch Trials, he was typically and repeatedly used as the demon possessing or being used by several of the accused witches. Nowadays, however, Beelzebub reached his biggest height not even through his own name, but rather his epithet- the infamous book by William Golding, the Lord of the Flies, which invoked Beelzebub's name in the title. In the story, which is a tale going into the inherently destructive nature of humanity, the Lord of the Flies is invoked as a false religious figure a group of kids begin to worship, being a decapitated and rotting pig's head representing the gluttony of humanity. Admittedly, I haven't read Lord of the Flies yet, but the story and its general themes had a lot to do with shaping the cultural consciousness surrounding Beelzebub.

Which, well... what is that? The common consensus on Beelzebub is that of him being the King of Gluttony, second only to Satan in terms of power- combining several themes and ideas from the past into one composite figure, Beelzebub himself.

Generally, Beelzebub seems to be primarily based on a composite mixture of his appearance in Paradise Lost, the studies of several demonologists, and the ideas presented in Lord of the Flies, shaping this marvelous menace into what we see him as today. Or he can also just be Satan again... but that's boringggg.... However, in terms of culture, SMT takes notes. A lot of notes. So how is Beelzebub represented in the series?

Perfectly. Beelzebub is iconic, and it's not hard to see why- his design is menacing, conveys his role as Lord of the Flies extremely well, and is frankly as badass as someone can make a fly look. The scepter and the necklace of skulls make him look terrifying, especially given how imposing he tends to be in gameplay- Beelzebub is, historically, one of the most powerful demons in the series, making perfect sense given his role as the right hand man of Satan himself. I cannot stress enough how much I utterly adore this design and how it manages to mix the idea of a fly into something twisted, demonic, terrifying, and badass. Even his human disguise looks cool to me, even though it's a bit bland in comparison to the masterpiece that is his fruit fly design.

I can't find much reason why he has a human disguise, but it's likely just due to the fact that a demonic prince like himself would need to hide away. If anyone has an exact reason why, though, please tell me!

One also can't mention Beelzebub without bringing up his boss fight in Nocturne, one of the most challenging and fun slugfests in the game. With his signature skill instantly killing any demon who isn't immune to dark, massive healthpool, and insane bursts of damage, Beelzebub makes for a formidable foe if there ever was one- and besides, even if Metatron is more difficult, Beelzebub's boss theme goes way harder than Metatron's own, so he wins in that department as well. The battle is important narratively as well, due to it being the final test of Lucifer's to see if you're truly worthy of becoming his demonic general- it shows a lot of trust in Beelzebub that Lucifer would send out the fly to battle the Demi-Fiend.

Overall, though, Beelzebub is a demon of many names, many titles, and many fans, and it's easy to see why. Both fascinating historically and in the series itself, Beelzebub may be one of the best demons in the whole series, period. Now, with that over with... where did I put that bottle of bug spray?

Oh, there it is. Sorry, Beelzebub.

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woodchipp · 7 months

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A CRITIQUE OF OMORI, PART 2: CHARACTERS

NOTE: Reader discretion is advised. By clicking on “Keep reading”, you willingly choose to continue reading the post.

Generally speaking, OMORI’s character writing is superficial, both in Headspace and the real world. Instead of letting the player parse the main characters’ personalities for themselves via organic character interaction, all five of them get conveniently summed up by Basil comparing them to flowers before you’re flatly informed that Omori is afraid of heights, spiders and drowning in the game’s first 10 minutes. For what is supposed to be the player’s introduction to the characters, it comes across as particularly sloppy.

Their counterparts in the real world aren’t much better, despite the game’s attempts to make them appear complex and nuanced. In fact, Sunny sums up their personalities to you again (in 2 lines, no less) if you decide to interact with them right before the game’s penultimate boss fight. Another testament to how trite the writing is is that each of the main characters’ real-world selves can be easily defined by their basic archetype: Sunny is The Quiet One, Basil is the Nervous Wreck, Kel is the Manic Pixie Dream Boy, Aubrey is The Bully, Hero is The Ace and Mari was Stuffed into the Fridge. They don’t have any remarkable quirks that’d add a distinct flair to their character nor do they have unique speech patterns or anything of the sort to set them apart, creating the impression that they’re all indistinguishable from each other. The dialogue doesn’t sound authentic either - Hero hamfistedly espouses morals the way you’d expect a children’s show to while Aubrey’s conversation with Sunny on the swings on One Day Left has her dispense advice you would expect to hear from a clinical professional.

Of course, the most egregious example of what I'm describing is Aubrey’s big motive rant near the tree stump Mari allegedly hung herself on, since the game expects the player to believe that the violent juvenile delinquent who previously flew off the handle if her former friends talked to her for more than a minute would be able to talk at length about her festering trauma in such a clear and well-structured manner with no prior character development. It’s also obvious that her speech was written not to be directed at any of her friends but rather at the player, thus making the entire cutscene a very transparent infodump.

What feels the fakest about these characters is that they’re supposed to be close friends. OMORI doesn’t miss a single opportunity to remind you how ostensibly tight-knit the group was back when Mari was alive: it has you look through Basil’s photo album four times over the course of the game, the kids often reassure each other they’re still friends, Sunny’s most cherished memories in Memory Lane are those he experienced together with his friends and the entire DUET cutscene is a bittersweet “good times” montage. However, as heartwarming as seeing cute kids having fun might be, everything I’ve listed amounts to being pointless at best and heavy-handed glurge at worst because the characters rarely ever do anything substantial to reaffirm their friendship. Quite the contrary - upon close examination, most of their actions towards each other before and during the game inadvertently render their friendship an informed attribute at best.

Let’s take the friend group’s disbandment after Mari’s death as an example. The photo album’s narrative purpose is to establish how strong the group’s friendship used to be in the past so that the fact they’ve drifted apart in the present would have weight and emotional impact, but the memories the photos depict boil down to mostly irrelevant fluff along the lines of "We went to the beach. It was fun!" or "We're reading a new comic issue. So exciting!". Not only does it not tell us anything new about any of the characters, but it also paints a picture too impossibly perfect to be believable - the way the narrative presents it, the characters' childhood was ideal and Mari’s death was the only horrible thing to have ever happened to them as a group. Since the game lacks a precedent of the kids sticking with and trying to help each other in times of need, the fact they split apart and lost touch with each other so quickly in the face of this single hardship ends up unintentionally implying that their friendship is way flimsier than the game makes it out to be. And that’s not even going into details such as Kel reaching out to Sunny only after he learned the latter was about to leave, Hero and Kel admitting they’ve never been to Aubrey’s house (which implies that none of her friends questioned her tendency to always come over and never made the effort to actually visit her themselves) and Basil admitting he thought his friends forgot about his birthday.

Sunny and Basil have, at best, a deeply one-sided codependent relationship. While the guilt and stress of shouldering the blame and aftermath of Mari’s death caused Basil to suffer a mental breakdown, Sunny appears apathetic towards Basil. Basil considers Sunny his best friend and will do anything for him, including staging a suicide and taking the brunt of Aubrey’s misdirected wrath for several years, because of his staunch belief that Sunny is a good person who would never hurt anyone, much less his beloved sister.

While Basil would do anything for Sunny, it seems the sentiment is not mutual. Upon witnessing Basil having his first mental breakdown in the bathroom, Sunny exits the bathroom under the pretense of looking “scared” despite maintaining his default facial expression if you look into the bathroom mirror and Basil tearfully begging him to stay. The player is forced to abandon a friend in their time of need. What does this say about Sunny’s character?

Basil’s absence in Headspace becomes conspicuous over the course of the game as Omori and the gang become increasingly distracted by meaningless storylines that go nowhere. It is, in fact, a major plot point that the gang begins to forget they were ever looking for him in the first place. This, along with Basil’s numerous deaths in Black Space, heavily implies that Sunny’s trauma is intertwined with Basil and that, preferring to repress thoughts of him for his own peace of mind, he chooses to ignore the deterioration of his best friend’s mental health. Additionally, the imaginary Basil’s conversation with Sunny shortly before the latter goes down his Memory Lane has the former apologize to Sunny for “causing [him] so much trouble” and “burdening" him, which implies that Sunny does consider Basil a burden to some extent.

Finally, the method you use to obtain the "secret ending" cutscene is by watering Basil’s plants in Sunny's dream world. Sunny doesn’t help Basil when he actually has the chance to and Basil clearly needs it, but seems to be content with thinking about doing something good for the Basil he made up in his head while the real one is suffering. Again, what does that say about Sunny’s character?

Sunny himself is notable for essentially being a walking checklist of #relatable character traits the game doesn’t give you much of an actual reason to care about. He’s passive to the point where the plot of the route named after him is driven forward by Kel (as per Kel's stated narrative purpose) and every other character except Sunny himself. Neither Headspace nor Black Space do much to flesh him out despite taking place in his mind, and the most the game can say about him is that his friends have to take care of him since he’s the group’s “baby” (along with comparing him to Mari’s pet cat, which is a whole another unfortunate implication of its own).

[Pictured: an intricate and well-written character. Also pictured: peak friendship. Because your best friends infantilizing you is just so sweet of them, isn't it?]

[Pictured: the sun apparently shining brighter when Mari was here. Also, ew.]

Tying into his “baby of the bunch” role is how… Sunny-centric the group’s friendship is. Most of Sunny’s interactions with his friends are marked by his friends doing everything they can for him, but Sunny is never shown doing anything for them - in fact, a pivotal plot point of the game is him breaking the expensive violin they bought him for Christmas and spent an entire summer saving up money for. Coupled with one of Hero’s remarks indicating that Sunny’s family was financially well-off before Mari’s death, this action paints him as being spoiled. Moreover, the revelation that Basil took the blame for Sunny desecrating the photo album (as well as Mari taking the blame for him breaking one of their mother’s vases) heavily implies that Sunny is either used to letting other people take the fall for his actions or is otherwise all too willing to do that.

Since he’s inextricably tied to Sunny, Kel also needs to be mentioned here. While the overall concept of his character - an upbeat jokester hiding how hurt he really is by his friend group’s dissolution beneath a mask of (toxic) positivity - is interesting on paper, the game doesn’t do anything particularly interesting with it. As mentioned earlier, Kel exists solely as a plot device to push Faraway Town’s story along and acts as Sunny’s Manic Pixie Dream Boy, being the wacky and energetic character who gives the brooding and gloomy protagonist a new lease on life. Ironically, despite the game making it a point that Kel and Hero’s parents ignored him to comfort Hero first, whatever trauma Kel might’ve suffered from Hero’s outburst is glossed over in favor of focusing on his brother’s grief over Mari. In addition to this, the exchange where Kel reveals that Hero yelled at him is optional and very easy to miss, which is baffling since it’s crucial context for Kel's relationship with Hero in the present day. Lastly, even though Kel’s slight thoughtlessness is generally meant to be endearing, there is one plot-relevant moment when it crosses over into dangerous stupidity.

After Aubrey pushes Basil into the lake near the group’s old hangout spot, Kel tells Sunny to rescue Basil - even though he should know that Sunny has a fear of drowning since he was there when Sunny nearly drowned in that very lake before. Instead of just diving into the lake himself, Kel chooses to argue with Aubrey on the pier, both of them seeming more interested in debating Aubrey’s motives than in saving their friend’s life. Not only is saving Basil a choice the player has to make, the choice prompt to do so doesn't have any sort of time limit and the game doesn't punish you at all if you choose "No", which nullifies the urgency this moment is supposed to have.

Depending on how long you take to save Basil and the time it takes for Kel and Sunny to respond, it can be inferred that Basil was submerged for at least twenty seconds. Although the average person can hold their breath for roughly thirty seconds underwater, Basil was taken off-guard and likely did not have the opportunity to brace himself before Aubrey pushed him in.

Instead of acting swiftly, however, Kel and Aubrey devolve into an argument. This implies that their quarreling takes priority over their love of their friend, if not suggests outright disregard toward both Sunny and Basil’s well-being.

The intention behind the scene seemed to be providing a thematic parallel to the accidental nature of Mari’s death and Sunny’s participation in it. Aubrey insists that she “didn’t mean to” push Basil, even though by that point she had already committed the act and her intent no longer mattered.

However, this scene fails as a thematic foil because unlike Mari, who was already dead by the time she was brought upstairs, Basil is still alive when submerged, and is in active danger of dying even as Kel and Aubrey argue. By ignoring the immediate threat to their friend’s life, the narrative inadvertently implies that Kel and Aubrey care less about Basil than Aubrey’s feelings. And while this may be understandable in the heat of the moment for Aubrey, who turned against Basil out of the mistaken assumption that he was, in her own words, a “nutcase,” it’s less understandable for Kel, who wants to keep the group together and has up to this point tried to treat Basil with kindness.

Aubrey does not immediately apologize for having pushed Basil (who was unconscious at the time of his rescue) into the lake, and similarly to Kel, she didn’t jump into the lake to save Basil herself. She yells “Where do you think you’re going?” to the retreating Hero, Sunny, and Kel, apparently callous to or unaware of Basil’s condition. Even after taking into account her anger issues and rough home life, Aubrey’s treatment of Basil is still unacceptable for several reasons.

[Pictured: Aubrey being an absolute girlboss and serving cunt.]

First of all, the event that caused Aubrey to turn on Basil was that she looked through his album without his permission while the two were studying together at his house. Although she portrays the photo album as a shared group possession because it contains their collective memories, in reality the album belongs to Basil. Mari bought it for him, its item description is “BASIL’s most precious belonging”, and most importantly, the album is entitled “Basil’s Memories.”

Secondly, the game further emphasizes that the album is Basil’s to do with as he wishes and not inherently a group possession when he gives it to Sunny. As its inheritor, Sunny is then free to share the album with his friends, but it can’t be stressed enough that the ownership of the album and its subsequent welfare initially belonged to Basil.

All this to say, Aubrey essentially breached Basil’s privacy by leafing through the album behind his back (note that he had not been in the room at the time of her discovery).

In hindsight, we know that Aubrey wrongly jumped to conclusions when she assumed Basil had been the one to black Mari out of his photographs. However, the fact that she instantly believed her own conclusion - that Basil is a “nutcase” - instead of trying to give her close friend the benefit of the doubt inadvertently paints Aubrey as a dishonest and disrespectful friend. It doesn’t seem to have occurred to her to ask him why he did it, to give him the chance to explain himself, before condemning him as a “nutcase.”

If the event had stopped there, perhaps that may have been enough to get the point across. But Aubrey then proceeds to bully Basil for the next four years, even going so far as to rope several other people into tormenting him. She could have just as easily avoided Basil, yet due to her erroneous and unfounded belief, she consciously chose to bully him.

When confronted, Aubrey expresses more concern over being perceived as a bully than making genuine amends with her victim. The label “bully” damages her self-image and seems to distress her more than the thought of having harmed someone she used to be good friends with.

[Ma'am, you are a bully. The churchgoers saw you and your gang bully Basil.]

The nature of Aubrey’s bullying is rather vague, but we can reasonably infer that it included verbal abuse such as name-calling: she admits to having called Basil a “nutcase,” a “creep,” and “other things” which she conveniently does not specify.

Basil’s mental health was already heavily compromised by his involvement in Mari’s death. His tendency to shoulder blame for others’ deeds means he took the abuse Aubrey would have likely inflicted onto Sunny had she known the truth. That also serves to imply that she would’ve probably tormented another friend of hers regardless of who was the true target of her ire. What’s more, the game attempts to implicitly rationalize Aubrey’s reprehensible actions as the byproduct of a rough home life, assuming a trite and largely outdated “bullies come from pitiable backgrounds” angle in order to earn sympathy from the audience.

By peddling this angle, the game sends the message that Aubrey’s hurt feelings outweigh the actual harm she inflicted on Basil. Such a perception is not helped by Basil mostly staying out of the story’s focus while Aubrey gets to explain herself at length and be forgiven for her misdeeds with a cute group hug because she cried really hard. Her apology to Basil (who had shut himself off from everyone by that point due to his grandmother's death) is meaningless since we don’t get to see any real reconciliation between her and her victim. That, in turn, is a fault of the game's short three-day timespan, which results in Sunny's friends being thrown to the wayside in the last hour as the game's climax takes center stage.

The fact of the matter is, there is a major difference between being anguished that your friend group has fallen apart and lashing out as a result, and making the conscious choice to bully someone you used to consider a friend because you assumed the worst of them. OMORI treats the latter like the former. Aubrey appears disingenuous when she insists she isn’t a bully because by her own admission, she did bully someone, a former close friend who is known for his sensitive temperament, and she bullied him for four years, contributing to the deterioration of his already unstable mental state. It’s not a simple mistake she can take back so easily.

Aubrey’s horrible home life also fails as a rationalization because Basil, her victim, has a horrible home life as well. His parents left him in the care of his grandmother when he was a toddler and don’t seem to visit him at all; he is forced to live with a guardian, Polly, who doesn’t know how to approach him, and his grandmother’s health is failing. In fact, it could be argued that Basil’s life is somewhat worse than Aubrey’s. Yet in spite of his mitigating circumstances, Basil chooses to shoulder the blame for Sunny’s actions.

Basil in general is best described as the game’s punching bag. Even after taking into account his involvement in Mari’s death, he elicits sympathy purely by virtue of having a truckload of horrible things happen to him before and during the story, as well his closest friends either being grossly unreliable (Sunny) or, even worse, actually harming him (Aubrey). On top of that, his friends also prove to be appalingly inconsiderate; after not taking the opportunity to visit him at the hospital when Polly first told them that he’s in the ICU with his grandmother and instead spending their time “doing whatever” until he got back home in the afternoon, they suddenly decide to visit him while he’s grieving his grandmother's death and decide to sleep over at his house without asking Basil himself whether he'd want that just because they assume he'd appreciate their company. His psychotic breakdown near the end of the Sunny route is the most logical reaction he could’ve had to circumstances as awful as his, really.

Hero is a character. I seriously struggle to think of anything notable about him other than him being Mari’s grieving boyfriend and the friend group’s father figure, and he’s not given much of a remarkable personality beyond that.

One last thing I’d like to mention is Sunny’s family - or, more precisely, that the player is given minimal information about them. Sunny’s mother is barely there, prioritizing furniture sales over her clearly unwell son, and the only notable thing about his father is the fact that he walked out on his family after the death of his daughter. Despite the game prominently featuring Sunny’s family photo during the story, it doesn’t carry any narrative importance because we don’t know much about what Sunny’s family was actually like. Did Sunny love his parents? Was he indifferent to them? Did his parents love him? Did they favor Mari over him? They don’t even get brought up by Omori during his dressing-down of Sunny in the final boss fight; and, as with Sunny’s friends, the game doesn't bother showing the reaction of Sunny’s mother to the fact that her son killed her daughter, even if accidentally.

Finally, there’s Mari herself. She is Sunny’s older sister and the lynchpin of the entire plot. Talking about her and how the story treats her requires me to talk about the most important, and perhaps most controversial aspect of OMORI: her death, and the twist behind it.

#omori #omori game #omori sunny #sunny omori #omori kel #kel omori #omori aubrey #aubrey omori #omori hero #hero omori #omori basil #basil omori #omori mari #mari omori

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maxwell-grant · 1 year

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any thoughts on the game awards street fighter trailer?

Not too many but a few, the game's got a loooot of content to cover and I'll stick with mostly some character impressions

Dee Jay! I have never been happier to see Dee Jay! ...I've never usually been happy to see Dee Jay, granted, but this redesign is really all that was needed for me to unreservedly love the dude, it does away with the biggest problem with him that was his basic and kinda-racist design (the new art style also helps a lot). It's such an upgrade in terms of his style and vibe and conveying the kickboxing DJ concept. He looks like someone I'd find at Mongaguá beach if I went down there tomorrow, drumming away and living his best life. I'm so happy for this dude.

I like that they opened the trailer with him, with a club party and him dancing along with the protagonist. LOVE the music notes on his new Super, love his new animations and that camera autograph victory pose, love the sparkles and ways they've incorporated his old moves (he's got a Sonic Boom fakeout and, as obnoxious as that's gonna be to deal with, it's a pretty brilliant choice and one that fits him superbly)

Love that the new minigames, I mean of course they brought the basketball parry, and I'm sure the car destruction's gonna be real fun as always, but I'm surprised they dug back that far and brought some things we haven't seen since Street Fighter 1.

I think it's really remarkable that, for the trailer shown at The Game Awards of all things, they chose to focus on the return of, arguably the least popular of the New Challengers, and three new characters. Everyone assumed it was a dead giveaway that this was gonna be the Cammy trailer and the fact that it wasn't, and that people still absolutely loved it without complaints, man, what a testament to how confident these guys are in what they're doing. I have never seen a Street Fighter title be this brazen in it's new faces in the trailer period, I've never seen one where EVERY new character or return of an old character, without exception is incredibly popular and well-received.

I'm not too big on Manon? I do like her but she's probably my least favorite as of yet, feels a little more gimmicky than the others and I kinda wonder if she wasn't some SFV concept that they held off on (in fact I'm pretty sure I remember seeing some characters like her on the drafts for Kolin and Menat). She's definitely filling a much-needed niche as the agile pseudo-grappler and, those months of dance training I took for music theater definitely give me a greater appreciation for her animations and pose work.

She's been compared with Abel a lot but I kinda feel like she's a response to Shermie? Definitely with her alt costume. Capcom and SNK riff on each other all the time and I do wonder if someone in the SF6 dev team saw that KOF XV Shermie trailer a couple years back that got the biggest viewcount of all the characters and thought to themselves, hey why don't we have our own sexy French fashionista grappler lady, and that's how Manon was born.

Oh GOD, Marisa, the standout of the trailer to me. I was hooked from the design alone but that trailer, good God, what a character. Everyone thought she'd be a grappler but no, she's just a tank, absolute beast mode woman who just bulldozes through whatever puny shit you do to repaint the pavement with your face. I get stupid looking at this character, what a glorious addition to the Giants Club of Street Fighter characters.

SHE LIFTS LIONS LIKE KITTIES, living the dream.

She might have some ties to the Illuminati characters? I’m curious if she’s gonna be a villain or anti-hero or on the “just here to fight good” alignment, I’m cool with all of these.

She’s Zangief-size and built for it and we’ve NEVER seen a female character be depicted like this in a fighting game. Every other “big girl” people point to in these games is pretty much always some fitness model with, at best, muscle definition in the arms but a typically thin stomach and torso, identically-attractive to all the other female characters but slightly more ripped.

You never see women characters built the way Marisa is, You just don’t see muscular women depicted often (if at all) outside of either someone’s fetish or someone’s punchline. Fighting games have a marginally better track record with body type diversity than other game genres but still an incredibly, painfully limited one when it comes to women, who are given like two body types to work with and no one would be able to tell 80% of them apart in either type if they switched acessories.

I am supremely glad over the fact that this is a SF6 character just now making her debut, because if Marisa had debuted at any prior installment in the series I do not think she would have been allowed to be this way. If she was in the 2/Alpha/3 titles, there is no way she'd have been given such an unapologetically burly design, and if she was a IV/V character, she'd be most certainly some kind of awful joke they’d have to rework later.

I love that Marisa is a bruiser, that she’s got an rowdy attitude and might even be a villain, but that she’s not fucking Abigail (...I mean maybe she IS fucking Abigail, I don’t know her life, if anyone could do it it’s her but why would anyone want that tho), that she’s allowed to be so cool. I have nothing but praise for this character so far and I really wanna see how her story unfolds and also I NEED TO PLAY THIS.

I main Big Lads in fighting games and I main all the Big Lads in Street Fighter and now I need to main The Big Lass, I need to land that glorious counter of hers ASAP, I need to Sparta Kick my way through matches, this character has my playstyle written over her and I need this game to be out now damnit

I’m sure he was a nice guy and obviously not saying he was the sole cause of everything, but every step of this development process I’ve been thanking my stars that Ono quit the team, we are so unbelievably lucky

While I was holding out some hopes that Capcom would make the final boss a woman this time around (especially with all the new characters being so great that this wouldn’t be a worrying prospect), I was also very curious for JP and I’m really excited with how he’s turned out.

He definitely feels like they took their time connecting a whole lot of separate design ideas and undercurrents into a single character to carry them. He is a rich fighting dandy, a modern equivalent to Dudley and Eagle (Eagle in particular since he was the first weapon user in the series). Some have brought up comparisons between him and Rugal Bernstein, which makes a lot of sense as a character to emulate if you’re doing a Final Boss who’s supposed to be like Bison but different, a next evolution of Bison and his power, since that’s kinda what Rugal was, the next evolution of the Fighting Game Final Boss after Bison and Geese.

Like Ed and Falke, he’s another new character who wields Psycho Power and has mysterious connections to Bison, except he doesn’t suck. He’s got a fantasy wizard vibe and his single-letter name and style seems to imply some sort of connection to G, another powerful fighting wizard dressing and behaving like authority figure, and by far the standout character of V.

G was also said to be the Final Boss of SFV, a position I do think he was qualified for but never really fulfilled because, I don’t think he was supposed to be that entirely, I think they retroactively made him the Boss when Necalli proved to be a dud and the story mode revolved around Bison but they still needed someone who could be the V Boss for assorted reasons.

I think JP is kind of them taking that idea, of G as a Final Boss and important character in the storyline, and sort of doing it right this time around, as he also follows that theme of succession they’ve been doing with these bosses: Emperor/King (Sagat) - Dictator (Bison) - Cult Leader Messiah (Gill) - C.E.O (Seth) - President (G) - N.G.O Oligarch (JP)

He hits such an absurd amount of my aesthetic and conceptual tastes that I, almost don’t believe he’s real? He’s Bison 2 + Eagle + Rugal + G. He’s a Russian supervillain with a dapper red suit vest, gloves reminiscent of black claws, a wonderful mustache and beard combo, and he fights with a cane. He’s got a killer design I absolutely need to take a crack at cosplaying after the game is out.

He has a cat, a detail deemed important enough to go in his bio. He’s voiced by Wally Wingert and Tomokazu Sugita, two people I could watch in anything. He’s got a sick fighting style summoning portals and claws and spike energy spires and one of the most murderous supers in the game yet.

He’s Christopher Lee as a Street Fighter final boss. Can you blame me for thinking more and more that this game is made for me?

#replies tag #street fighter #fighting games #street fighter 6 #sf6 #capcom #marisa #manon #dee jay #jp #fgc

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razelssacredplace · 2 years

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Spoiler Warning for God of War: Ragnarök!!!

The following post is a rant that contains spoilers for the end of GoW:R. Don't like that? Scroll onwards friends, but remember to take screen breaks too!

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With that said, I feel the need to comment on the ending, specifically the last stretch as a whole and the battle. I think 90% of it was absolutely awesome, and I probably have to go back and rewatch some stuff because there are absolutely things I missed.

But I'll tell you what I didn't miss.

I didn't miss that they completely glossed over Thor sending Jorman back in time to his creation, and really didn't offer much dialogue about it either. From my perspective they told it to fuck off and didn't want it to be the focus at any point.

I also didn't miss the fact that GoW:R fell victim to a very big issue in storytelling, and especially storytelling as of late. And it has to do with Freyr and Thor. And anybody who shares my opinion on this subject knows exactly what I'm talking about already, probably just when I said that.

Did Freyr and Thor not fight to have good endings? I don't care about any "death flags" or what, none of that shit. Did Thor not fight so very hard to preserve his family and life, regardless of his methods? Was the point of the game not to "Be better" among other messages? Yeah great he was better at the very end, but it would've meant more to see Thor trying to be better after the story.

Imagine the post game where you get to see Thor taking steps to better himself, to be a better father, a better God, and a better person. And do you know why it would be so important to show that imo? Because it parallels Kratos. It shows that, by Kratos being better than the bloody slaughter-monster he used to be, he impacts someone just like him. Another bloody monster who's so tired of it all, but has escaped into far worse habits and vices. Another monster just like Kratos that he saves, just like how he saved himself. And why? Because Thor deserved that good ending after all he went through from Odin to protect the family he had left.

As for Freyr, he falls into the same category. A hurt, beaten, and broken character who's fighting to survive in this world with the people he has left, fighting for a good ending. Fighting for his sister to be free, fighting for his own justice and revenge after being lit ablaze by lesser Aesir, fighting to be better. And that's the crux of it all in Ragnarok. Everyone was fighting to be better.

Now I'm not saying the game is bad or it was ruined for me because of this. At the end of the day I do understand why they died because Ragnarok is a war, and not everyone walks away from war. Plus in the old myth (which may or may not be real Norse mythology) Thor does die, along with basically everyone. I understand why it happened but I wish they got the good ending.

Then again, maybe that's a testament to how good the game is. Just my two cents in the end.

#gow spoilers #gow ragnarok #god of war ragnarök spoilers #god of war ragnarok #also props to this game being one of the few Triple A titles to be complete upon launch; Because #honestly #is it that fucking hard for a company to give developers proper time to complete a game?#and if that's not the problem sometimes is it that hard for a dev team to do their job?

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pashterlengkap · 2 months

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Malcolm Kenyatta wins historic race on road to becoming PA’s first out statewide official

Out gay Pennsylvania state Rep. Malcolm Kenyatta (D) won his primary race against Mark Pinsley for the role of auditor general, an administrative position overseeing the state’s accounting and financial functions. Kenyatta’s victory makes him the first out gay man to be selected by a major party for a statewide office in Pennsylvania history. If Kenyatta wins in the November general election against Republican incumbent Tim DeFoor (the state’s first-ever Black auditor general) Kenyatta would become the first out LGBTQ+ statewide official in the state. “I am honored to be your nominee and look forward to serving you as the next Auditor General,” Kenyatta said after beating Pinsley by winning over 64% of the vote. “As Auditor, on day one, I will rebuild the Bureau of School Audits and demand accountability from all schools. I will also create the first-ever Bureau of Labor and Worker Protections to take on wage theft, employee misclassification, and union busting. Additionally, I will use the power of the office to measure and support efforts to make communities healthier and safer.” Kenyatta became the first LGBTQ+ person of color to be elected to the Pennsylvania General Assembly when he won his 2018 race at the age of 28 in a landslide victory. After receiving compliments from former President Barack Obama, Kenyatta was one of 17 rising star Democrats to deliver the keynote address at the 2020 Democratic National Convention and one of the first three out LGBTQ+ people ever to do so. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Kenyatta was booed by his peers while talking about fair wages for essential workers. In 2022, Kenyatta lost his bid to become his party’s candidate for the U.S. Senate. That same year, he married his longtime fiancé Dr. Matthew Jordan-Miller. “As somebody who inhabits all of these intersections, growing up in an incredibly poor neighborhood to a working poor family, as one of only two openly LGBTQ members of the Pennsylvania General Assembly and the only one that’s a person of color, I see all the different ways that frankly our systems are broken,” he told LGBTQ Nation last year. In general, Kenyatta thinks the government should work for working families and believes in what he calls a “basic bargain” that says everyone should have access to safe and affordable housing, quality healthcare, a safe education, and clean neighborhoods. Several LGBTQ+ advocacy organizations praised Kenyatta’s victory on Monday. “Pennsylvanians trust Malcolm Kenyatta to be their watchdog as auditor general because that’s exactly what he’s been as a legislator,” said Annise Parker, president and CEO of LGBTQ+ Victory Fund. “He has the experience to win this race and carry on his fight for students, seniors, and workers as Pennsylvania’s auditor general. LGBTQ+ Americans are severely underrepresented in public office and the numbers are even worse for Black LGBTQ+ representation. I look forward to doing everything I can to mobilize LGBTQ+ Pennsylvanians and our allies to get out and vote for Malcolm this November so we can make history.” Brandon Wolf, National Press Secretary for the Human Rights Campaign, said, “Malcolm’s overwhelming victory in this race is a big deal. Not too long ago, the idea that a gay, Black man from Philadelphia would be the nominee for statewide office in Pennsylvania would have been unimaginable. This victory is, first and foremost, a testament to Malcolm’s unflagging work ethic and the fact that Pennsylvanians know he will have their back as Auditor General.” While Biden and Trump won their primaries in the state, 157,126 Republican voters (representing 16.6% of the vote) voted for Trump’s former political opponent Nikki Haley, and ⁦68,556 Democratic voters (representing 6.9% of the vote) voted for U.S. Rep. Dean Phillips (D-PA). These votes could signal continued intra-party disapproval of Biden’s handling of Israel’s ongoing attacks in Gaza and Trump’s authoritarian leadership of the Republican party. The state primary race also saw a… http://dlvr.it/T5zKBm

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pocketbelt · 4 months

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Bayonetta 2 (Switch)

Finally focused in and finished it, and I think the best way to describe Bayo 2 is to simply point out that the hard lock-on feature from Bayo 1 is stripped out for an automatic soft lock-on that can, will and does decide you need to be targeting the small random shitter three metres behind you right after freshly launching the big threat that does all the damage.

Much is said of Bayonetta 2 removing mechanics and features and simplifying things to make an easier game, and all of that's true, but it could get away with some of it to a point. Multiple times I got fucked over by that lock-on sucking Bayo away from my current target because it edged too close to the bottom or side of the screen and the camera ended up nearer to something else, and it makes quite a lot of fights a fucking nuisance.

It's a testament to Platinum's quality at the time that in spite of this, Bayo 2 still stands head and shoulders over, say, Hi-Fi Rush, as Bayo moves and attacks so much faster and more fluidly than most action game protagonists that she can make up for the issues most of the time. You can still get a great flow going and a lot of the fun of Bayo 1 is still there, though I think Bayo 1 is still the better game.

You can see something of a scatterbrained approach to making a Bayo 2, though, in the story, which is mostly just an elaborate way to say "actually Bayo's dad from the first game wasn't evil, he was just possessed!", a plotline that ends up completely sidelining the opening "Jeanne has been sucked into Hell" set-up. In fact, despite that and the early emphasis on how going to Hell to fight demons will be the big thing, you're only there for like 2 chapters and you fight way more angels than demons anyway. The Jeanne plotline basically loses all attention the second you arrive at the water city and meet Loki, it's very strange.

I give it that focus because the biggest rumbling I hear of Bayo 3 is the plot being absolutely cack-handed, and this isn't a promising basis for how to continue when they dumped a basic but promising plot basis for 2 basically instantly to start coiling around 1's plot.

#pocket-media-tag

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a-tale-never-told · 7 months

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Honestly, more people should really play Tales of Symphonia, as its Big Bad (anon won't spoil who the villain is) has essentially the same mindset that motivates groups like Hamas. Basically, the villain's mindset can be summarized as, "It's wrong for humans to be racist to me and kill my sister, but it's okay for me to murder humans in ranches for 1,000 years! It's okay when I do it! It's okay when I do it!" Groups like Hamas also think that "we get to follow different rules than other people."

//I have not heard of the game, but I do believe that this type of mindset is extremely toxic and irrational. The thing that does bother me the most is that people are so quick to jump on Israel for committing genocide on Palestine and calling them "Nazis" when they pretty much excuse actual terrorism and terrorist groups like Hamas and co, and just excuse their actions as fighting for the liberation of Palestine when they were the ones who literally started the conflict in the first place.

//What's rather disgusting to me is that I saw one comment last night from another blog saying that the Israel conflict isn't complex and that the actual Hamas attack was just a propaganda move by Israel to justify their attacks on Palestine, which is absolutely ridiculous when you actually read the evidence. I'm guessing whoever wrote that hasn't even read a history book before.

//One of my favorite films, by the way, and one that does a great job of a terrorist portrayal is Die Hard (1988), my favorite action movie of all time. In the movie, the terrorists infiltrated the Nakatomi and disguised their motivations under the pretense of being politically motivated, when in reality, they actually wanted the 600 million dollars Takagi had in the vault. Not only is this a great example of subversion in my opinion, but it also solidifies the mentality of Hans and his gang. And the movie never tries to portray them in any good way, either. Die Hard is a fantastic action film, with memorable and iconic characters, a great soundtrack, an entertaining plot and story, and some really badass action sequences. I seriously recommend that you watch it if you haven't already.

// In fact, some of my Ocs have personalities based off of Die Hard, so that's a true testament to how I adore this movie. But back on topic, this truly is something to behold, and the sheer amount of anti-Semitism on display is truly astounding. I'm not excusing Israel's actions in any way, but I believe in the fact that this is more complicated than it seems to be. But I rather not discuss that anymore for now.

#mod talks #a tale never told #israel #palestine #hamas

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lyrabythelake · 2 years

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Just popped into my head: Wind is the last one standing after a hard fight and has to care for all of the others

Thanks for this awesome request, Karalora!! This is basically just Wind and Warriors trying to out-mother each other lol

CW: Blood, injury

“Sit down, Wars! Goddesses, how many times do I have to tell you?”

Wind watches in his peripheries as Warriors flops back against the log behind him with a pout. The fact he protests no further is testament to how much grief his mangled leg is giving him, and Wind makes a mental note to get to him next after he finishes tending to Sky.

He winds the bandage one last time around Sky’s torso and pins it in place, testing the give to check that it’s neither too tight nor too loose. Sky lets out a hiss at the motion and Wind winces in sympathy. He knows first-hand how much broken ribs hurt, even after half a red potion.

“Remember to take deep breaths every once in a while,” he tells him. “You’ll end up with pneumonia or something if you don’t.”

Sky nods and manages a weak smile.

“Thanks, Buddy,” he wheezes.

“No problem.”

“Are the others—” He coughs painfully. “Are the others going to be okay?”

Wind sets a firm gaze over the rest of the group sprawled about the makeshift camp, still covered in ‘Blin blood as well as their own. Time and Wild are out cold, laid out on bedrolls, blankets up to their chins, though ultimately alive and relatively fine after taking serious blows to the head.

Twilight sits curled around his left arm, face ashen in what Wind can only assume is pure agony as blood seeps through the tourniquet he tied after Twilight adamantly refused to accept a red potion until everyone else had been healed. Selfless bastard.

Legend and Hyrule are mostly uninjured but are both suffering from extreme exhaustion after bringing out the magical big guns, so to speak. They’re asleep curled up against each other in a way Legend would probably appreciate no one ever speaking about again. It’s an image Wind files away for a time less pressing.

Four, he’s happy to see, is applying cream to the burns on his torso just as instructed, his face pale and drawn.

Wind, well—Wind is dead on his feet. There’s nothing like the looming possibility of your closest friends’ deaths to take it out of you, that’s for sure. That threat seems mostly to have blown over now though, and he allows himself to relax slightly, release some of the tension he’s been carrying with him since the fight started. They’re all breathing, their hearts are still beating. They’ll be fine.

“Yeah,” he says, turning back to Sky and giving him a small smile. “Yeah, everyone’s going to be okay.”

“All thanks to you,” Sky tells him softly. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be underestimating you ever again after this.”

His mind flashes back to the battlefield. Standing breathless, sword held high as the last enemy falls. The abrupt silence that followed was like being plunged under the waves of a churning sea, and his eyes were wide as he picked out the scattered colours of his friend’s tunics among the pool of enemy bodies.

He had never felt so horrified to be the last one standing.

“You better not,” he says, his tone light-hearted yet decidedly meaningful. Sky chuckles weakly as he leaves to crouch by Warriors’ side instead.

The Captain’s leg is a mess of torn material and skin, blood soaking his trouser leg from his ankle to just above his knee. None of the wounds looks particularly deep, just extensive, and probably horribly in danger of infection considering they were wrought by a particularly aggressive Wolfos. He feels the Captain’s eyes on him as he unsheathes his smallest knife from his belt and begins to carefully cut away the material around the wounds.

“You shouldn’t be looking after us alone,” Warriors tells him stonily, and if he didn’t know him better, it would be as if there was no emotion behind the words at all. Just haughty condescension.

“Well, there’s no one else to help, so I don’t have much choice.”

“I could have.”

“No,” Wind snaps. “You couldn’t have. You shouldn’t be walking on this leg for at least a day even after you take a potion.”

Warriors tuts and shakes his head. “There are too many of us for you to be looking after by yourself.”

And that hurts. Wind knows it shouldn’t mean anything because Warriors would say that to any one of them in the same position—probably even Time if it came down to it. But he’s so sick of being treated like a child, so sick of everyone treating him like he’s not as capable just because he’s younger. What does he have to do to prove to them he’s worthy of their trust?

“I can do it,” he growls through clenched teeth, pressing a little too hard in the process of cleaning out a bite mark and making Warriors’ leg jump from the pain.

“Wait, Wind, that’s not—” Warriors begins, only to have Wind ignore him resolutely. “Sailor, look at me.”

Wind does, because Warriors has this way of speaking that makes you want to listen. It’s probably what makes him such a good captain, but it’s mighty frustrating when Wind is trying to give him the silent treatment.

“I know you can do it,” Warriors tells him seriously, “Goddesses, I saw how you saved us all in the final moments of the battle, you were like a damned hurricane, you impressed us all. I just mean you shouldn’t have to. We should’ve been better; we should have fought harder and I should’ve come up with a better plan—” He hisses as he shifts his leg thoughtlessly. “It was a total wipe-out and you’re the one left having to deal with the aftermath. It’s not fair to you.”

Wind scoffs and concentrates once more on cleaning his leg, though something warm makes itself known in his chest.

“We all did the best we could,” he dismisses, but the tone of their silence lightens considerably in the moments following. Wind isn’t fond of his own need for validation–he considers it one of his greater weaknesses–but he feels content, if only for now.

“Stop moving,” Wind tells Warriors after he flinches away from his touch for the umpteenth time. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

Warriors grins in his peripheries.

“You’re turning into a real mother hen, you know that?”

“Learned from the best,” he replies, feeling a little of his old energy coming back despite his tiredness. “Besides, that is your fault. None of you know how to take care of yourself. Here.” He finishes disinfecting and offers Warriors one of the last remaining healing potions which he takes gratefully.

“Thanks, Sailor. Promise you’ll get some rest after this?”

“I have to check on Legend and Hyrule first. And give Twi a potion, he looks like he’s about to throw up.”

“After all that, then. I’ll keep watch—I won’t use my leg,” he amends quickly at Wind’s warning glare, “but I’ll wake you if anything comes our way.”

“I don’t know…” he glances at Warriors’ leg with trepidation. He should be the one resting, really.

“Let me do this for you, Wind? Please?”

Wind hesitates only a moment before nodding.

Checking on Legend and Hyrule is not a huge task; they really do seem fine despite their obvious exhaustion, and Twilight finally accepts a potion with a pained grunt and a quiet “thank you.” Then, finally, the last of the rushing adrenaline silences in his ears and it takes all that he has to keep himself from collapsing where he stands. Instead, he stumbles back over to Warriors.

“Come here, Sailor,” Warriors says, his smile faintly amused. Wind huddles under his offered arm and practically melts into his side, his eyelids already drooping.

“Promise you’ll wake me if any monsters come?” he mutters, soothed by the rise and fall of his friend’s chest against his cheek.

“I promise. I’ve got your back; now go to sleep.”

And so, he does.

#lyra writes #linked universe #lu wind #lu warriors #lu fanfic #angst and fluff #i'm still taking requests so feel free to send one in <3

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mandareeboo · 3 years

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Prompt: wammawink getting jelly over rider

"So you go by babygirl?"

It's an innocuous enough question. Rider's never had the ability to just ask Horse what name she prefers, if any- and now that she sings, dances, and has a magic joking tail, it feels like a good time to bring it up.

She does, in fact, realize the sleeping beartaur she's just poked.

"Oh, hahahahha, that," Wammawink says, wrapped her hands around Horse's neck and shoulders possessively. "Only I call her babygirl, y'see. It's a testament to our friendly bond."

Rider doesn't seem upset about that. Merely confused. "You literally all called her that during the fight."

"That was a callback to show our support and love," Zulius hummed, flapping his hand dismissively. "Babygirl is Wammawink's thing. You do not wanna stir that pot."

"All.... right?" said Rider, truly confused now. "Just Horse, then?"

"Just Horse," Horse agreed, smiling. "It's the name you gave me. I mean, it's what I am, but it's also what you called me. That means a lot to me."

"Then I'm honored you took it, Horse."

"SPEAKING of things taken-" Wammawink blurted out. She was looking pretty puffed up now, as if trying to seem intimidating. "Horse was so sad you didn't get to see her first spell-"

"No, I wasn't," Horse answered. "Are we really doing this?"

Wammawink laughed and patted her nose. "Why, of course! First spells are a big deal in Centaurworld."

"We celebrated in jail!" Durpleton added chipperly. "The toilet wine gave me a bellyache, though."

"Well, FINE then." Glendale turned away, arms crossed. "See if I share next time."

"Pssst," said the lump of fur on Horse's rear, having stood up. "It's me! I'm the spell! Quite the punchline, eh?"

Horse swatted him away. "Honest, it doesn't bother me. I was pretty freaked out when it happened."

"Oh," Rider said. She looked around at all of them, baffled beyond measure, before shrugging and scritching Horse behind the ear. "That's okay. Anyone can kill a minotaur once. It's the fifth time that you celebrate. I'll be there for that, I promise."

"If I learn to do magic on my own," Horse added. "I'd really like that."

"Loving this camaraderie right now, everyone," Wammawink grit out through clenched teeth. "Makes me so happy to see my babygirl getting the love she deserves. From someone who is basically a stranger who tied things to her back. Fits the mood nicely."

"Hey, I liked that saddle," Horse pouted. She reached back to nuzzle her. "I'll always be your weird-looking spiritual baby, remember? You'll always be important to me."

Wammawink softened. "I know, babygirl." She pulled her in for a tight hug. "I know."

#Ask #Anon #Question Mandar #Drabble Prompts #Drabble Prompts Monday #Centaurworld #Rider #Horse #Wammawink #Durpleton #Zulius #Glendale #Wammahorse

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genshin-impacted · 3 years

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lost & found // Diluc x Reader (2/3)

Word Count: ~5.0k

Notes: GN!Reader, Seelie!Reader, Diluc/Reader, includes more Mondstadt people interaction such as Klee, Albedo, and Kaeya, see why I had to split it into 3 parts now

Summary: Despite being a seelie, you and Diluc are inseparable. You aren't sure what you are or why you are here, but you know for certain you want to be wherever Diluc is through every adventure and misadventure. (And throughout it all, you get closer and closer to him.)

Alternatively: The two of you lose and find each other over and over again.

[Part 1] [Part 3]

You are satisfied with your life as a seelie, being Diluc’s partner in vigilante justice as the Darknight Hero (though when he goes out as the Darknight Hero, you’re usually hiding underneath his coat, all cozied up) and being able to spend your days by his side. Most days you are content without the answers to the questions of your origins or why you are different because Diluc accepts you for what you are regardless, as his radar for trouble and as his trusted companion.

It is only on the days where Diluc does not speak to you, burdened by the emotions of his past, withdrawing into himself at the familiarity of solitude, that you wish you are not what you are. There is very little you can offer in terms of comfort when compared to the warm arms and reassuring kisses of another person, but you make do with what you have.

You nuzzle into the crook of his neck in a semblance of a hug, and, though it takes a few tries to have Diluc understand what you were doing, your light touches to his forehead are the kisses you bestow upon him whenever his spirits are low.

“...Thank you,” he says to you when you lightly brush onto his temple, smiling when you twirl in the air, happy to have him receive your affections with full translation. He chuckles. “Would you like me to do the same for you?”

The squeaks of surprised embarrassment that follows make him laugh, and you imagine if you could speak, you wouldn’t be able to say anything of coherence with how equally flustered and pleased you feel. You don’t want to conflate any of his gestures, but you think that Diluc’s ability to tease you is a testament to how close you have gotten, even though his remarks make you feel giddy.

(If anyone else were in the vicinity they would think to themselves how rare that they see Master Diluc laughing so easily, though this is a thought that would not have crossed your mind considering this is a Diluc you have always seen. He is more youthful, less burdened, when he is near you. Is it because you are a seelie or is it because he is not bound by expectations when you have only known him for who he is?)

His ability to understand you and his unwavering trust in you despite your inability to do many things is something that you cherish. As such, you find ways to help Diluc wherever you can: temporarily swallowing small items to bring to him, being a literal light in the dark, and caring for his well-being wherever you can. The next time Kaeya drops by the tavern, stating something about treasure hoarders, a big expedition, and something about Dragonspine, he drops off a young girl about eight years old who introduces herself as Klee, and you find yourself in a new position as a babysitter.

And you are happy to glow, squeak, and fly in different shapes to make Klee laugh. You would be lying to yourself if her laughter didn’t make you happy, but it’s in addition to the fact that Diluc can finally rely on you. The grateful glances he keeps giving you over the shoulder when he caters to the tavern guests is invigorating. And if the tavern weren’t so well-lit, Klee would be able to see how you glow brighter in response to your emotions.

As perfect as Diluc may be (no, you are not biased), you find that you are surprisingly better at handling Klee. It’s not as though Diluc is completely helpless-- he responds to Klee’s questions just fine, speaking to her more as though she were an adult than a kid. You think Klee likes it for how she eagerly nods despite not understanding what Diluc is saying. It's just, for once, you may have an advantage because you are a seelie, and Klee absolutely adores you simply for existing. It’s a lot easier to entertain and play with her as a glowing ball of light than as a tavern-keeper, but you consider this a win anyways because you can finally help Diluc in a way that matters, considering the look of relief he shoots you when you’re able to distract her.

Your role as a babysitter goes well… until it doesn’t.

"It was nice playing with you, little seelie!" Klee chimes cheerfully. You coo at her, right up till the point she says, "Let's play another time, okay?"

Where are you going? You squeak, flying in front of Klee as she packs up her things. You nervously look at Diluc, hoping he can see you with how you flash your light like a siren, but his back is turned.

Klee only giggles. "Do you want to come with me too? Let's go!" She says, bounding out the door with terrifying timing when everyone's too distracted to stop her. You watch with growing horror as she runs with arms outstretched into the streets of Mondstadt, and you only have a split second to decide to follow after her before losing her completely. (In retrospect, perhaps it would have been better to tell Diluc, considering how little you could do as a seelie, but you forget that at times, especially in moments like these.)

You follow Klee, glancing around nervously for any roaming hilichurl or abyss mage. Miraculously, the two of you don't run into any enemies, though you did urge her to go around the path when you spot a few of them walking toward you. This is out of my pay grade, you think warily, and if you had a heart still, it would be beating rapidly with the self-contained panic every time you narrowly miss a confrontation with an unsavory crowd.

When Klee leads you into Dragonspine, which you now know to be a snowy terrain whose chill is cold enough to make you shiver, you want to cry. Where are you going? You want to ask, Why are we here? You watch as Klee picks a random direction to go in, and you can only follow her, twirling around sources of heat at every opportunity so that she knows where she can stay warm.

Having Diluc here would be nice, you think, as you float next to the orange seelie that radiates warmth much like a campfire. The fires Diluc would light easily if he were here, the warmth he would exude for how hot pyro users run... You think warily that you're going to make him worry again, having disappeared with Klee, but for some reason, you feel reassured that he'll find you again eventually.

It is many minutes traveling in Dragonspine when Klee puts a finger to her lip and asks you, "Do you think you can find my big brother?"

Here you are, following Klee this entire time, only to find out you are both lost. Next time, you think to yourself, as Klee describes her big brother Albedo and you quietly listen, no matter how Diluc looks at you, you don't think you can ever accept being a babysitter ever again.

(When you're attacked by hilichurls, you think of distracting them as Klee runs to safety, but then she throws literal explosives at them to defeat them soundly and you think that at least there is one less thing to worry about.)

You let your instinct take the lead this time, as something within you pulls in a certain direction. Asides from the basic investigative skills (footsteps here, disturbed bush there), it is a miracle that you lead Klee to the encampment that Albedo had set up for his experiments in Dragonspine. It's not as though the path was particularly hard to traverse, but it did take some backtracking and maneuvering around Fatui camps (will Diluc end up fighting them looking for you, you wonder). You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Klee leap up to hug the blond, doe-eyed alchemist whose eyes widen at her arrival.

“Kl-Klee? How did you get here?” Albedo stammers, looking over her before landing on you. You simply twirl in the air in greeting, and the alchemist can only blink. (You never realize this, but this is one of the very rare moments Albedo is ever flustered-- courtesy of Klee.)

Klee goes on a long monologue about you as well as the adventure to get here, Albedo nodding in understanding ever so often, when you hear the crunch of snow behind you. Your mood lifts along with your body as you recognize the familiar tuft of red hair against the whitest of snow.

“There you are,” Diluc says, setting down his broadsword. He sounds out-of-breath, most likely weary from the fact the two of you disappeared and from the climb to get to Dragonspine. You glow immediately from his evident relief, and you race to him, nuzzling into his neck in an affectionate hug to which he immediately responds by brushing the back of his gloved hand onto you.

How did you find me again? You ask, easily sitting on the hand Diluc offers you.

“Kaeya told me that Albedo was in Dragonspine,” he explains. “Knowing Klee, this was the first place I thought to go to, and I know you wouldn’t let yourself split off from her.”

You nod sagely, though that line of thought would have made sense to anyone who generally knew Mondstadt geography. You look up at Diluc in confusion when he pets you.

“I would have found you anyway,” he says softly, “even if you weren’t together.” You feel yourself grow warm. “I’ll always find a way to find you.”

(Even in this snow? You wonder, even in this frigid wonderland? Through the driest of deserts and coldest of oceans? And you can imagine that if you had asked him this, he would have said ‘yes,’ though that was just what you hoped.)

You coo softly, flying up to gently press your face to his cheek in a gentle kiss, and the smile that Diluc gives you, you think, should be warm enough to melt even the snow on Dragonspine.

When the wind grows harsh in the changing of times, you find flowers of blue and white hidden amongst the fields of grass. And when Stormterror abandons his domain, you lead Diluc to a red, crystalline teardrop that neither of you can touch without protection. You thank the stars Diluc is not a man to shy away from danger, especially when it pertains to the safety of Mondstadt, because he follows you wherever you lead him-- finding teardrop after teardrop scattered across lands festered with monsters.

(“It’s a well-kept secret, despite the way he acts,” Diluc says, leaning on his propped-up arm by the fireplace. He huffs in laughter when you trill-- my lips are sealed!-- and the two of you would watch the embers slowly die out. )

It has become more and more evident as time goes on that you are more than you appear. Your small size and dedication to following Diluc are already indicative of your unique nature as a seelie. What makes you particularly distinct is your penchant to find things or people that many would consider strange. Even before you found these objects, being able to find the elusive Venti would be indicative enough. You don't know what was so strange of him besides his eternally youthful appearance and talent of disappearing into the wind (you thought that was just what people could do, okay?) until Diluc tells you of his godly origins one late night in the winery.

Your proclivity for the unique is something that does not go unnoticed by Albedo.

“I would greatly appreciate being able to tag along on your next journey. I’m very interested in seeing what you, as a seelie, can do,” Albedo tells you. When you meekly titter in Diluc’s direction, Albedo raises his hands reassuringly. “Ah. Don’t be nervous. It’s quite alright if you don’t lead us to anything. It’s all part of the process. Klee has told me much of what you can do, and I’m simply interested in learning more about you, as special as you are.”

Diluc looks to you, waiting for your response as you float in the air, pondering. You cock your head to the side, and he only shrugs, answering the nonverbal question you shoot at him.

“You’re the guide. It’s up to you,” he says, and that is all you need to look back at Albedo (who has been observing everything thus far with keen eyes) and bob yourself up and down in agreement.

“We can meet at Windrise in one week’s time,” Diluc says to Albedo.

Albedo nods, taking one last look at you before pushing himself off the tavern stool, ending the conversation until next week-- that is if Kaeya were not there.

“You aren’t planning to go on an adventure without me, are you?” He says, and Diluc can only sigh.

The week passes quickly and the four of you (Diluc reluctantly allowing Kaeya to accompany the three of you) meet up at the Statue of the Seven near Windrise. You prove yourself once again when you lead Diluc, Kaeya, and Albedo on an off-trail route to Daudapa Gorge. They all follow you, climbing up the cliffside, until you lead them to an unusual hilichurl of blue hair and a talisman on its mask. To keep with the consistency of your battle-filled wanderlust, the unusual hilichurl starts throwing items-- some of which you can recognize from your previous(?) life and some of which you’ve never even seen before. The barrage of things is incessant until fire, ice, and bursting flowers make him escape into his suitcase, leaving behind strange four-pointed stars that glimmer for a moment before disappearing, much to Albedo’s disappointment.

The silence that follows after the oddest encounter you have ever led Diluc to is deafening. You can’t even bear to turn your body to face Diluc who you know is looking at you with a (fondly) exasperated expression. “Trying to outdo yourself every week, aren’t you?” He asks, and if you could, you know that you would be blushing.

Kaeya makes it a point to make your embarrassment worse, as he often likes doing. (You know Kaeya shows his affection through teasing remarks, but oh, what you wouldn’t do to be able to retort back to him once without Diluc having to come to your rescue.) “Your mini seelie finds a lot of strange things, don’t they?” He says, giving you a cat-nipped smile when you bristle and squeak. “Maybe the seelie thinks you’re strange Diluc. Maybe that’s why it follows you around--”

“Shut up, Kaeya.”

“That’ll cost you, you know.”

You watch the two bicker back and forth in a manner that is now very familiar to you, not noticing the alchemist observing you in the background.

“I’d like to test something if that’s alright with you.” Albedo suddenly says to you. “Nothing painful,” he reassures you, even though you hadn’t said a word. “I’ll simply be asking you to do your best to find Master Diluc to test a theory of mine.”

Why Diluc? You wonder.

“Why me?” Diluc repeats your thoughts. “I didn’t realize we would still be under observation after this one journey.” You think Diluc sounds testy-- in a manner that is unlike whenever Kaeya drops by his tavern and more like when fire abyss mages show up on your path. You are alarmed, unsure why you feel the tension rise despite Albedo’s unbothered demeanor.

And while Diluc would never thank Kaeya for his quick wit and way with words, you definitely would, especially when he jumps into the conversation with an easy lilt to his voice to de-escalate the situation (for once). “A-ha, worried that your time with your precious companion is being encroached upon, Master Diluc?” He teases, “Or perhaps you’re afraid you’ll be separated from your precious seelie?”

“Kaeya--”

“Your relationship with your seelie is unique, just as your seelie and its abilities are unique,” Albedo interjects before Diluc could pull out his greatsword. “I’d like to qualitatively and quantitatively define them, if possible.” He pauses, addressing you directly. “I thought this would prove fruitful for you as well if you were ever wondering what your... purpose is, as one might say.”

How rare it is to have an opportunity like this just fall into your metaphorical hands, you think. You are interested in knowing more about yourself. It wouldn’t change much about how you want to stay with Diluc, but there is a sense of peace knowing what you can and cannot do. In Albedo, you see a man of science through-and-through (even though he evidently defies the laws of transmutation you learned from a certain anime). He sees things for what they are, always addressing you when he wants to talk to you, and recognizing that you can speak for yourself. In some ways, he is no different from Diluc, who has never demanded you to be more than what you are as his companion.

If you decide to do something, Diluc respects your decision-- which is why he only watches you quietly as you croon in agreement. You glance over at Diluc to wait for his consent as well, and he can only sigh. (You don’t know it, but he cannot say ‘no’ to you.)

“I have one condition.” When Albedo nods, Diluc continues, “We do nothing to put them in danger. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Albedo says immediately, and you almost miss what he says next, as distracted as you are by how Diluc comes closer to you almost protectively. “I’ll converse with you to let you know what you’ll be doing, but there should be no harm done to anyone during this experiment. How does the day after tomorrow sound?”

Diluc heads to Dragonspine without you, for what feels to be the first time in forever. Now that you think about it, has Diluc ever been separated from you the same way you have been separated from him? Even though you’re the seelie, he’s always the one finding you-- have you ever needed to find him?

You want to be able to find Diluc as flawlessly as Diluc can do for you. You want to know, and you especially want Diluc to know that you will always be able to return to him no matter what. Succeeding in this self-given trial of yours will provide definitive proof whether or not you can. With that thought in mind as you float up the slopes of Dragonspine, you think there’s a lot more at stake after all.

You titter nervously when you find Albedo in his camp, and when he spots you, he waves you over as he prepares for the journey with you. “I told your companion to get a headstart,” he says to you. “I won’t know where he’s gone either, so it’s a double-blind experiment. Feel free to use any way you see fit to find him and I’ll follow you.”

You nod dutifully, and when he does nothing else but follow your movement with his eyes, you realize that those were the only instructions you were given. Find Diluc, you think to yourself. Should you start to conjure an image of him in your mind to guide you? That was easy enough to do: half-lidded red eyes that soften when he sees you, red hair you’ve dazed off in more than once, black coat he’s used to shield you from the weather despite your immunity to it, and black boots that are worn to the heel when he follows you.

You are only a few steps away from the camp when you feel a growing panic, for no matter how much you think of Diluc, you don’t feel anything telling you where to go.

When you guide Diluc, even if it’s an impromptu journey, you feel a pull to go somewhere. You’ve once thought it to be your whims but after finding so many other things on purpose and having that same familiar pull, you know that it isn’t just your curiosity guiding you. You conjure up his image, you think of how much you want to find him, and still-- nothing.

How are you going to find him now?

You follow those footsteps, with not much else to go on, and you hope with all your might that perhaps these are the only signs you need to find him. When you reach a snowstorm, your heart falls, only to see that the heat source midst of the snowstorm has been activated. In a place with newly fallen snow and no fireplace, you see a tree with the snow shaken off from its lower branches, and that's when you realize that these are clues that Diluc has left for you.

You look frantically around, following the most likely path he would have taken out, and are met with crossroads. You're tempted to choose a random road and stick with it, but your random choices and the instincts you have been using this entire time are not the same. If you could, you would grunt in frustration, but it comes out as a high-pitched squeal instead (that Albedo takes note of just in case). How were you supposed to-- and then you see footsteps clear as day around the bend of rocks and realize it's Diluc’s.

Does he know, you wonder, that you do not know how to find him? Or did he leave these signs regardless just to make sure you do?

Diluc wants you to find him-- and you find it hard to explain why that means so much to you.

You follow the footsteps, the snow, the branches, and the flames with growing anticipation to see that bright tuft of hair amidst the whitest snow you've ever seen. You're led into an icy opening where heat sources have been activated, and it's hard to contain your excitement when you notice that all of them are activated. You're so close to him; you can feel it.

You rush to the center, hoping to see Diluc-- only to see a gaping chasm where the ice broke, and your heart freezes over.

"Ruin guards," Albedo murmurs, taking note the same time you do that there are various irreparable ruin guards within the hole. If Albedo says anything, if anyone else shows up afterward, you do not notice. The only thing in your mind was the worst-case scenario: Diluc might be hurt, and you didn't know how to find him.

You jet off into the chasm, flying from corner to corner to find him. Every time you see a gleam of red, you desperately hope it is him, but it's just shards of scarlet quartz Diluc must have broken to keep himself warm. Follow it, you think, follow the trail-- quickly!

The path leads to a waterfall where enemies are littered on the ground, including an ice lawachurl right in the river's path. Diluc, you think, following the line of arrows up the snowy hill. You fly up and up and up and as the footsteps fade and you grow colder, you think chillingly that if you were cold, then--

What would you do if he got hurt? What would you do if you could never find him ever again?

No! You think, no, no! Your barely contained composure breaks again with the rising panic. You zip forward, searching for the nearest heat source and praying (to Barbatos, perhaps, or any other god out there that Diluc has yet to tell you-- that he promised to tell you about) that Diluc is there. In the face of your great love for Diluc and the helplessness that comes with it, you have never felt so lost.

Overlooking a tree, you spot an orange seelie-- a heat seelie!-- and speed to it where it slowly looks in your direction. Can you please, you begin desperately, help me find someone? He must have come here before. Red hair, black clothes, big sword? You spot another looking your way and you ask it the same thing. You attract another and you repeat yourself again.

Please, you tell them, I need to find him.

Slowly but steadily, they all look in one direction, and you are off at once. (You forget to say thank-you; you're normally better than that, but you hope the seelies can forgive you just this once.) You fly as fast as you can, begging whoever is listening that the seelies did not mistake someone else for Diluc. And when you see Diluc at the campsite, you finally can breathe again.

Unharmed, his head in a towel to dry off his wet hair, Diluc is fine. You can barely believe what you’re seeing as you numbly float to him, checking him from head to toe for any injuries you can perceive. You don't feel as though you're doing that well of a job though, considering the only thing running through your head that he was safe and what would you have done if he wasn't--

Before you reach him Diluc turns his head to you like clockwork, as if he always knows when you are here. (There are those red eyes again, you think, and wonder if his affection for you will ever run out.)

“Ah, there you are,” he says, almost as frantically as you felt finding him. “I was about to go look for you since you weren't with Albedo." He gives you a smile when you slowly approach him. "I was worried," he says, "I--" He freezes in the middle of his sentence, eyes widening before slowly softening with every passing moment watching you. “Hey,” he says tenderly, raising his hands to cup you close to him. “It’s okay. I’m fine; I’m here.”

If Diluc ever doubted how much you cared for him, he does not have to look any further than the tears that drop down your translucent body, disappearing before they fall off of you. You don’t understand how you can cry, considering what you are (and the lack of tear ducts), but you do anyways, ears drooping as all your worries, concerns, and relief manifest into tears.

I’m so glad you’re okay! Your trills and squeaks are nothing more than hiccups in-between tears. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you earlier!

And Diluc does his best to wipe away the droplets that come from where your eyes would be as he continues to soothe you through them. “You found me,” he says, voice warm like the hands he holds you in. You don't have the strength in you to tell him otherwise when he repeats it to you again and makes you believe it. “You found me.”

You spend the next half-hour or so with Sucrose who calms you down a great amount. Her genuine eagerness for alchemy combined with her shy, nervous demeanor is something that endears her to you quickly, especially when she is trying her best to make you feel better by rambling about her latest experiments.

With the worry for Diluc gone, you feel reaffirmed in your relationship with him. You are sad and will be for a while, that you do not have the talent to find Diluc whenever you can, but you are reassured by your determination to do so despite it.

Getting lost and being found again-- it seems as though that’s the cycle the two of you have started together.

“I apologize for causing you distress.” You perk up from your position above the alchemy table when Albedo walks back to you after a brief conversation with Diluc over the bubbling mechanisms on the table.

“Dragonspine is still an unpredictable terrain and I had not taken into consideration that there would be problems using this area as our testing ground,” Albedo says with a twinge of regret. You can understand him well enough to know that he truly did not intend for the day to be so emotional, so you squeak in response and fly in a loop. He looks relieved when you do, and you think for a brief moment that perhaps he isn’t so hard to read after all.

“Though the procedure was… unexpected, I hope you learned more about yourself as I have.” He waits as you eagerly nod in agreement, and you see him briefly hesitate. “...There’s a type of loneliness in being different. I’m sure you know this very well,” he says quietly as you float. “If you wish to learn more about what you are, feel free to visit any time. I will be happy to help.” The smile he gives you is partly fond as it is lonely, and you can only fly up to gently bump your head against his in response. “Until next time then,” he says with a tone of finality. “Perhaps when your companion isn’t so protective over you.” (Which is unlikely, Albedo thinks, but not impossible.)

Until next time, you say, watching as Albedo walks away into the snowy terrain. You spot Diluc, hands crossed as always as he leans against the darkened bark in a manner that is so reminiscent of the first time you found him. You feel oddly nostalgic as he watches you intently. Then, you do a somersault, and, going full circle, he smiles at you.

“Let’s go home,” he says to you, and you follow him, just as you did in the very beginning when you found him.

(If there is anything that the two of you could conclude at the end of this, it is the confirmed knowledge that the two of you would go till the ends of Teyvat to find each other again.)

[temp taglist]

@thetwinkims @loveyoutothestars @ninqat @winterptilopsis @nya-vivi @just-noelle

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc/reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin diluc #diluc #kaeya #albedo #klee #sucrose #kaeya alberich #mini seelie #this was supposed to be a one shot lol

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swaps55 · 2 years

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Concerto - 4 - High Water

Pairing: mShenko | Rating: M

Notable tags: Canonical character death, graphic depictions of violence, desperate mutual pining

Summary: Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.

Chapter 4: High Water (Ao3)

When Saren’s dreadnaught appears on sensors, Joker checks the telemetry twice to make sure he’s not seeing things. Nothing that big, that fucking big, should be able to move that fast.

It’s bad enough being stuck on the ground. But with that monster sliding into orbit, taking flight isn’t exactly going to help them. Even if Shepard succeeds in taking down the second AA tower, they might not make it through the atmosphere. Stealth system or no stealth system, going up against something that doesn’t seem to give a fuck about the laws of physics isn’t exactly how Joker imagined finally putting the Normandy through her paces.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Let’s see how Shepard plans to handle that one.

Assuming they even get that far. Joker had listened to the entire exchange between Alenko and Williams with a cold, sickening twist of his gut. Pressly, who has been wearing holes in the deckplates with his pacing, had stormed back to the galaxy map, unable to stand there and listen. But Joker heard every word. If he can’t help them fight, he’s at least going to listen.

Williams has at least two unrepaired suit ruptures. Damaged shield emitters. Low medigel stores. Over the course of the last hour the salarian hardsuit signatures have winked out one by one. Only a dozen or so remain.

Rentola, miraculously, is still alive. From his original team of twelve, only two remain on radar. Kirrahe, whose squad had fared well initially, lost six in the span of twenty minutes trying to draw heat off the AA tower. The salarian comm channel contains more exploding shrapnel, whistling slugs and bleeping geth than actual combat chatter.

If Shepard doesn’t hurry his ass up, there won’t be anybody left to go get.

Twenty kiloton bomb on board, and nothing he can do with it.

At least when he’s in orbit he can monitor, anticipate, rescue. He can fire giant guns. Stranded here on the ground, he’s truly useless. Hell, he hasn’t touched a firearm since Basic. Most pistols with more kick than a Kessler would break his wrist. He could always try beating them with a crutch.

“Any word?”

Adams’ normally relaxed, carefree tenor takes on a biting edge. It’s the fourth time he’s checked in over the last twenty minutes. The thrusters are up and ready to burn, the entire ship poised for action like the coiled spring of a trap that hasn’t been sprung.

“How badly do you think one AA tower could rip us up?” Joker asks, massaging his forehead. “Because I’m almost willing to risk it at this point.”

“Just our luck the one that’s still up is the one closest to the bomb site.”

Joker sighs, smacking the console in frustration, then tunes back in to Shepard’s comm chatter, which explodes in a blur of static, gunfire and shouting. A check of the combat scanner shows a handful of geth in the area. Manageable enough. But then again, but Joker isn’t the one getting shot at.

According to his schematics of the base, Shepard’s close to the gun. On top of it, maybe. The fact that there isn’t more resistance is a testament to Kirrahe’s men – they’d done their jobs.

The marker signaling the AA tower flashes red. Joker barely has time to acknowledge it before Pressly pages him from the CIC.

“I’m reading it’s down! Joker, what do you see?”

“Looks good here,” Joker says tightly, before opening the line to Shepard. “Commander. Our scans show the AA gun is offline. Can you confirm?”

“It’s down. Get your ass over here. We need to plant that bomb and get the hell out.”

Read the rest on Ao3 | Read from the beginning | The Concerto Playlist

#mshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect #concerto update

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f-ggoth · 2 years

Text

twitter is limiting the potential of one of the few truly great emoji. I understand that I have not posted to [tumblr] in years, but I can no longer keep my silence. please, hear me out.

(alt text is included)

apple has a very good emoji of a melting face. it is NOT intact and has NOT befouled itself. it is a versatile little guy who adequately communicates

a) dissociation

b) body horror

c) extreme comfort/pleasure

d) all of the above (bottoming)

twitter's version is an injustice. it has pissed itself and is happily sitting in it. it probably has a little yellow raincoat and little yellow rainboots and a little yellow rain umbrella in its hands which you can't see because it's splashing around in a big yellow pisspuddle. there's no way it's even still warm.

no shade to piss enjoyers you do you but the perfect emoji now exists, and my platform of choice said "no thank you, we'll have the piss." you may in fact be my most valuable ally in the fight to restore my perfect little friend to an unpissed state. please help me to convince jack that he can just use 🚽🥺 when he needs to cuz it's basically the same fuckin thing. maybe he'll even sympathize and use a ZWJ to make the pisspig community a custom codepoint and it'll catch on and get mainlined. they've done that before.

the thrust of my argument is the addition of outside contours on the faces, which make it apparent that apple's version has a clear horizon-line where it transitions from solid to goo and has already lost much of its shape. the contour on the twitter version is a complete ellipse, indicating that it is intact. the natural question, then, is what is the yellow puddle underneath the happy, smiling face? the answer is, sadly, piss.

the face's mouth is an area of specific interest. It is obvious that on apple's version the mouth begins on the solid and ends in the liquid, which makes clear that the puddle is made of face, not piss. on close inspection, one realizes that the mouth has volumetric shading above the horizon-line and flat shading below, i.e. it no longer has depth, as it is now liquid.

as any student of the immortal science would agree, art must be considered in its historic-material context. all other vendors' face-emoji are so consistently flat-shaded and apple's are so consistently given depth that the contrast between them is practical chiaroscuro, in both the literal/visual and metaphoric senses. forgive my editorializing, but I believe passionately that there is a clear intentionality to apple's stylistic deviation: this is NOT piss, they need you to know that.

apple's emoji projects a half-sunk melted visage-- a lasting testament to a specific emotion, preserved for us through time, exactly as an emoji should. twitter's lack of care will inevitably be remembered only for its unfortunate implications, any chance at meaningful communication permanently lost.

Look upon its piss, ye Typist, and despair 🫠

#🫠#apple #twitter #emoji #discourse #pisscourse #actual discourse in alt text

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theglockwizard · 2 years

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ASuperman & Lois is back, baby, and pulls exactly no punches! Oh boy where to start? I know, I know: Called it! I knew Chrissy wasn’t going to be swayed by Ally, and use Ally to investigate the facts. I loved to see her confrontational even before Ally drugged her, and to not hide her visions from Lois because she recognises it’s on a whole another level. Ally just leveled up(Whoa, Flash’s writing is getting to me) from “Random Cult Leader” to basically “Supervillain”. I wished we saw what she saw, but I guess they’re keeping it for Superman or Jonathan crossing over. Way to go Chrissy! Now, let’s talk Jonathan. Jonathan is, ironically, in a very Jordan pre-S1 place. So just as I felt for Jordan then, I feel him now. She feels overshadowed by his brother, neglected by his parents, and X-K is very much affecting his mood a lot. His takedown of Jordan was painful to watch, because I feel Jonathan would never do that. But, I think Grandpa Lane is onto him now, and in Grandpa’s words, Jordan is not exactly a spy. I can see him Jordan telling Sam, and Sam investigating that. It’s interesting that X-K is also affecting Jonathan uniquely. Who knows if he’ll keep them or not? Jordan was very cute this episode, I don’t have anything to say about him. I really liked him confronting his brother after Sarah’s words, he recognised Jonathan could be facing something way worse and didn’t want to leave him alone. The twins are good brothers, really. In the same way, I don’t have much to say about Clark. I feel the big stuff for him is coming next episode, when we’ll learn about Bizarro a bit more and he confronts Anderson mining X-K from the mines. I just have to say his betrayed expression for the banana muffins was hilarious, and props to Tyler! He’s my Superman. Lois was met with a very much needed reality check-Which doesn’t mean she was bad, or a bad person per se, and we as the viewers know why she keeps secret what she keeps secret, especially last season, but Chrissy’s confrontation has been kind-of shaping up for a while now, and it’s nice to see it come to fruition. Extra refreshing is that they didn’t have a high school drama fight about it, as they are adults. Some TV shows could really learn from that, couldn’t they? Excited to see Lois and Chrissy takedown Ally, together this time. With the Kent out of the way, and the Irons nonexistant this time around, let’s talk about the Cushings/Curtezs. Sophie appears for her generic, once in a two episode scene, and promptly disappears so ok, you do you girl.(I know why this is and was just me poking fun at it, of course) Sarah was a gem this episode. From her honoring her traditions, on one hand because it’s her roots, on the other hand because her father cared about it much, to her talk with the Kent’s porch with Jordan, she was an absolute entertaining character this time around. And with what we learnt this episode, I guess she’lll do a bit of second guessing about her kiss and where she stands with Jordan, and possibly properly apologise this time. Jordan and Sarah’s relationship is usually cool to see, so who knows where we go from here. But her panic attack after Kyle, and her betrayed look during the father-daughter dance, are a testament to Inde’s acting talent. A pleasure to the eyes. Lana drops some tea by hinting at the fact that she knew about Tanya from the bar!!! And considering her line to Sarah about cheating, something tells me she knew and has forgiven Kyle, only to misunderstand Sarah’s wording and think he was getting back together with her. This is going to be a huge fallout for the family, and honestly, I can’t predict where this is going at all, so consider me interested! Kyle... Let me preface by saying something. One thing that’s truly special about Superman & Lois is that the characters are fundamentally human. They make mistakes, are allowed to learn and to grow, and always deal with things outside of “TV-show-drama-filled” reactions and are a lot more humane. It’s something I have reiterated a bunch of times every time I reviewed the show, so you know, you’re probably tired of hearing it now. Speaking of Kyle, I feel for him. Don’t get me wrong, he cheated and in a way that’s way more important that Sarah’s self-discovery summer camp kiss, but he has grown so much past his abusive behaviour, his addiction and all of his S1 shortocomings that I just wanted him to be a happy man, and to see this cheating plot being brought back now, WHILE INCREDIBLY REALISTIC AND ENTERTAINING, hurts me so much. Anyway, I have Thoughts about the whole thing, but they are incredibly messy and mixed that expressing them now is difficult. I just need to say: Kyle, the true road for redemption starts now, and you’re gonna need to work to mend what’s broken. Keep at it, and don’t do anything stupid: Random thoughts from this episode are: Bizzarro being an anti hero is very cool, actually! A soldier instead of symbol... Just don’t let Anderson learn of this. Tag I really want to see you with the Kids(Jonathan, Jordan, Sarah, Nat) so please ditch Anderson and go have an adolescence please. Ally you are a bitch and I didn’t miss how the force field empowerment thing is setting you up to be Parasite. Can’t wait to see you go down. SUPERBOY NAMEDROP

#GWWatchesSupermanAndLois #superman and lois #superman #the cw superman #Superboy #jonathan kent #Jordan Kent #Lois Lane #clark kent #kyle cushing #sarah cushing #sophie cushing #lana cushing #sam lane #ally allston #bizarro

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

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half a heart ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you and namjoon have always been the best of friends; who just happen to be in love and are refusing to do anything about it. 〞best friends to lovers. childhood friends to lovers. idiots to lovers.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: namjoon x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 19.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: empHASIS ON THE IDIOTS TO LOVERS, pining, god there’s so much pining, namjoon is the sweetest man and this fic will ruin all other men for you, slight jealousy, slight possessive!namjoon, soft dom!namjoon, big cock!namjoon, sub!reader, biting, marking, grinding, dry humping, dirty talk, nipple play, nipple sucking, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, riding, soft sex, i am in love with kim namjoon, some deep dicking because its not a sol fic for joon without this, creampie, slight cumplay

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: there’s honestly so much fluff in this and that is a testament to how much i love Kim namjoon papa bless,

⏤ thank you to my sweet beans @peekaboongi and @shadowsremedy for beta reading this for me ♡

⇥ part of the mixtape series

Decidedly, there have been many days in your life. Some happy, some sad. Some you remember better than others while others fade away into the back of your mind. Some are ingrained so deep in your mind that when you close your eyes, you can see every detail as if it’s currently happening. None, however, do you remember more clearly than the day you met Namjoon. It had been almost two decades ago; when you were five, and he was six. You remember being nervous - your parents had just moved to Seoul - and unlike your small port town of Yeosu, you had no friends, nor did you know anyone.

Seoul had originally felt like an adventure, but actually moving there had been a lonely experience. Tall skyscrapers dwarfed your form, and life moved as fast as its people - unlike your sleepy hometown. Thus, when your mother had brought you to the park, you’d clung to her skirt - too afraid to venture out and speak to anyone. Closing your eyes, you can still see the faded metal of the monkey bars, hear the tinkering laughter of children running around and smell the sweet scent of the Bungeoppang stall that was nearby.

It had all been incredibly overwhelming back then, and you’d only hidden further behind your mother’s legs. Until - you’d spotted a boy, as lonely as you. A fond smile curls on your face as you remember Namjoon’s little frame. With chubby cheeks, curious eyes, and dressed in little shorts and a bright red t-shirt, he’d sparked your own curiosity. Unlike the other children, he wasn’t running around, or climbing the slide, or even hanging from the monkey bars. Rather, he sat crouched on the floor, intrigued brown eyes staring intently at the bushes as he stuck his hand into the shrubbery.

Unable to stop yourself, and completely enthralled by his curiosity, you’d approached him hesitantly. The moment he had felt your presence behind you, he’d hushed you, his face twisted in concentration. His harsh shush had almost sent you running - scared that he’d yell at you for coming close to him - but instead, you’d stayed rooted to the spot - too engrossed in his actions. All of a sudden, he’d yelped in triumph and pulled out his hands.

Immediately, he’d turned to you and with the brightest smile - eyes full of wonder and the apples of his cheeks bunched together - he’d proudly shown you the little green frog he’d caught. And that one action - that one smile - had sealed it between the two of you. Ever since then, Namjoon had been your best friend. Woefully, to your utter despair, it turned out that his family lived a good forty-five minutes from you. But that hadn’t stopped the two of you - no. Still, every day, the two of you would meet up at the park and go on little adventures - Namjoon’s pudgy hand holding onto yours.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue mulling over your relationship with Namjoon. You’ve lived twenty-four years, and throughout the vast majority of it - Kim Namjoon has been your only constant. Even as you grew up, the distance had meant nothing to you; you’d always made time for each other. Your childhood had been filled with wild adventures and borderline ridiculous experiences: Namjoon dragging you out the comfort of your home so that the two of you could do whatever stupid thing his enigmatic mind could think up. Consequently, that very same enigmatic mind is the exact reason for your current situation.

It’s the middle of the night - the air cool against your skin, even with your large puffer jacket to keep you warm. Currently, you find yourself on the rooftop of your building and as usual, like most of your memories, Namjoon is beside you. Just a few minutes ago, he had burst into your bedroom. Carelessly, he’d thrown you your jacket before dragging you onto the roof of the building. Of course, you’d tried to protest, but you’d never been able to deny Namjoon. Not when he looked at you with those sweet, warm coffee eyes of his.

Thus, you’d let him - albeit reluctantly - pull you to the top of your apartment building.

Sitting on the bare, cold tile - you look at him expectantly. Mild annoyance twists your features; though, that’s more due to the chill of the wind, and your grogginess, than anything else. It’s nearly the end of summer: the foliage of the trees starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. On the horizon, you can see the stark, vivid neon lights of Seoul’s skyline - the city still buzzing with life. However, in your smaller neighbourhood - away from the main bustle of the town, it’s quieter - darker.

The thick tarp of night blankets the sky: painting it midnight blue, and starks twinkle within its hold: scintillating like the clearest diamonds. Despite the ambient chill, you find yourself relaxing: your shoulders deflating imperceptibly. Knees pulled to your chest, you wrap your arms around your knees and stare at the sky. For as long as you’d know, you’d loved the night sky - its dark embrace nothing short of comforting. More than that, you loved the stars - you loved coming out at night and just drinking in their radiance; their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You’d always thought there was a certain loneliness to them. They look beautiful: glinting magnificently beside each other while they hover in the upper stratosphere. But you know better - each and every one of them are millions of light-years apart from the next - each more sequestered than the one before. Really, you know they have no sentience - and in fact, most of them are already dead: completely burnt out by the time you can view them. And you know they can’t feel their solitude: they’re nothing but burning clusters of gases and atoms - combusting in a breathtaking display of light. Nevertheless, it’s still something you take an odd comfort in.

“Why did you bring me out here, Joon?” you finally ask, turning back to your best friend. You watch him grin brightly at you, the deep wells of his dimples indenting in his full cheeks, but you know Namjoon. In fact, you know him better than you know yourself. Thus, you see the slight hesitant insecurity swirling in his usually soft, brown eyes.

“You had a bad day- and it’s night time,” Namjoon replies, his voice a little hushed. With a deep sigh, you glare at him. It’s almost three in the morning, you’re tired and a little cranky. Of course, it’s not like he woke you up or anything - he’d seen that your bedroom light was still on and that you were sadly moping in bed, curled under the covers as you scrolled through social media. Mainly because he was right, you did have a bad day. Work had been exhausting, someone from your team had misplaced some important figures and your boss had yelled at you for it in front of everyone; completely embarrassing you, even though it wasn’t your fault.

Exhaling deeply, fatigue evident in your sigh, “Joon- can we not do this now? Whatever you want to do, let’s just do it some other time. I’m tired, I’m cold and I just want to go back to bed,” you breathe out. Immediately, Namjoon shuffles closer to you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he tugs you into his chest.

Petulantly, you keep your shoulders stiff - fighting his pull. However, when his calming scent: fresh cotton and soft floral notes - the mix of his fabric softener and lotion, wafts across your senses, you reflexively find yourself turning putty in his hold. Relaxing in his embrace, you let his strong arms envelop you, taking comfort in your best friend’s cradle. Instinctively, Namjoon places his chin onto your head, tucking you further into him.

Knowing you’re fighting a losing battle, “Joon,” you mumble wearily.

“Just give me a couple of moments okay? I promise you’ll love this. Let me explain - and if you still want to go to bed, we can, alright?” comes his soothing words. The dulcet tones of his voice fill your eardrums, his chest rumbling lowly under your back. When you don’t say anything, Namjoon continues, “You had a bad day, but it’s a clear night tonight. You love watching the stars.” There’s no real emotion in his voice - his mouth uttering the statements plainly. Not that it really needs any emotion - they’re all basic facts.

Seeing where he’s going with this, you sink further into his embrace. Trust your best friend to drag you out on a cool summer night, just to stargaze, because you had a bad day. You love him. You really do. Tiredness brushed aside, you wriggle in his hold slightly and tilt your head, so you can look up at him. Namjoon shifts, putting a little distance between the two of you as he looks down at you. His face is incredibly close, his breath fanning your lower chin: so sweet you can taste him on your lips.

“Are we just out here to watch the stars?” you ask, a light teasing inclination lacing your voice.

Namjoon hums lowly, before cocking his head to the sky. Arms tightening around you, his voice turns low - and deep - the shallow timbre of his voice easing your soul. “As long as I’ve known you, you have been in love with the night sky - and the stars. Especially the constellations, and their myths, and their stories…” Namjoon begins, his warm gaze trailing over the vast cosmos above you. Then, he pauses before turning back to you. His eyes are alight with tenderness and a slight streak of knowing mischief, “but you’ve never actually been able to point out any of them,” he continues with a low chuckle.

Hearing his words, you scowl slightly before playfully smacking his soft belly. Never being able to actually make out a genuine constellation - other than Orion, because really, that one was easy - had always frustrated you to no end. You’d tried - really, you’d tried - but every time you’d look at the stars, you’d get lost in its overwhelming expanse, and consequently, those bright clusters would blur together - like a pile of glitter dust.

“Did we come out here just so you could tease me?” you butt in, pout evident in your voice. Namjoon exhales heavily in amusement, before tapping his chin against your forehead.

“No- that’s just an added bonus,” Namjoon laughs. Scowl deepening, you stick your tongue out at him. Large hands skim down your body before twisting around your waist and pulling you further into his body, “I learned them for you,” he suddenly breathes out.

Pausing, your features twist into an expression of confusion, “huh? Learned what?” you question.

Namjoon’s fingers flex above your stomach, a sign of his nervousness. From your head resting below his chin, you feel, and hear, him swallow thickly. “I learned them - the constellations. I learned about their positions and how to locate them. Just so you can tell me about them,” he confesses.

Floored by his admission, you instantly jerk off of him. Turning around, you stare at him with wide eyes, your gaze trailing over his face as you take him in. Gazing into his soft mocha eyes, you can’t help but find yourself sinking into their depths. Two decades. You’ve known Namjoon over two decades, and yet - somehow his eyes are the same. You remember them clearly from when he was younger, the pools of liquid chocolate shining just as they did back then. If you were being cheesy, you’d liken them to the stars you love so much: the brown irises twinkling as if those coffee depths held the stars themselves.

Except - they’re not the same. Unlike the cold, distant light of the stars, Namjoon’s eyes are dynamically bright, wonderfully expressive, and so full of tender love and warm affection. Sometimes, they sparkle with curiosity - and other times, they glint with an enigmatic knowingness: as if he knew all the secrets of the world. Right now, there’s nothing but kindness, and earnestness in his eyes, mixed with a little hesitance, and just the sight of it has your heart clenching, overwhelming emotion welling up inside you. Throat tight, and mouth suddenly dry, your face crumples as you take in the sight of your best friend.

His muscles are completely relaxed as he sits on the concrete tile of the rooftop - strong arms now braced on the ground as he leans back. Silhouetted by the dark blanket that is the night sky, he somehow looks bigger, and with his dark hair falling into his eyes, and an inkling of nervousness painted in his tender eyes, your chest tightens. Swallowing thickly, you shuffle closer before laying your head on him.

Automatically, as if the movement were ingrained in his muscles, his arms wrap around you, and gently, he pulls you backwards - until you’re both laying down. One of his hands moved to rest under his head - cushioning his skull - while the other lazily curls around you: the gesture second nature to him. With your head on his chest, you naturally entwine your fingers with his, before laying it on your stomach. Staring up at the sky, you point at a random constellation.

“Which one is that?” you ask, pointing to a random group of twinkling orbs. You thinkit’s a constellation - but really, it could just be an obscure cluster of stars.

Namjoon laughs, his chest reverberating endearing under your head. “You know, it’s kinda hard to know which one you’re pointing to when you just point at a random spot,” he teases. With a pout, you let out a slight huff, making him laugh again.

“How about this - I’ll point them out, and you can tell me about them?” Namjoon asks. Nodding eagerly, your entire body buzzes with excitement.

“That one’s Hercules,” Namjoon says - pointing to the sky before tracing a series of complicated geometric shapes in the air.

Baulking, “no! Joonie- oh my god, pick a different one. Hercules is so boring- everyone knows his story,” you whine. At your words, Namjoon bursts into laughter - the slightly high-pitched sound causing your face to soften. Focusing on the sound, you let the light laughter wash over you, the sound putting you at ease.

“Alright, alright. That one is Cassiopeia. Tell me about her,” Namjoon says - moving his hand down and tracing a zigzag over some brightly coloured stars.

Eyes lighting up, “Oh she’s cool! Well- not really. She was a queen and she claimed her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the Nereids. As a result, Poseidon-” you begin, before going off on a tangent. Throughout the entire story, Namjoon pays you the utmost attention - listening attentively as you animatedly regurgitate one of the countless myths you’ve got memorised.

When you're done, he points out another one - Draco this time - and with a soft pout, you explain that Draco was part of Hercules’ twelve labours. However, rather than making him change, you begin retelling the myth. Through it all, Namjoon listens quietly, and eventually, you grow tired, your voice turning wearier and wearier as you begin mumbling.

You’ve only just finished recounting the supposed myth of Corona Borealis - commonly known as the Northern Crown, and how its story is tied to the myth of Theseus and the minotaur. When your voice trails off and quiet fills the atmosphere once again. Namjoon's hand is still entwined in yours, and lazily, you play with his fingertips - simply watching the night sky and how the stars slowly pass over you. Perfectly content with the stillness around you, you’re happy to sit and bask in the comfort your best friend offers you: his arm casually over your body and his steady heartbeat under your head.

Then, all of a sudden, “have you ever loved someone?” he asks. Freezing under him, you tilt your head to look at the bottom of his jaw. Briefly, you wonder what spurred on the question - it’s completely out of the blue. “Sorry, it’s just- most of those myths had some sort of romance, and like, I was just wondering. You can ignore me,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath.

Sucking in a sharp breath, “I mean- I love you,” you choke out. Namjoon sighs, his fingers tightening around yours before you feel him shake his head.

“No- I mean like, have you ever been in love?” he asks, and from your position on his chest, with your head tilted up, you vaguely see the way his eyebrows knit in puzzlement. Pausing briefly, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on it. That is what you’d meant. You have no delusions about you - you’re in love with your best friend. You’re not really sure when it had happened, but somewhere between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, you’d lost your heart to your best friend - and you’d never asked for it back. Nor did you ever really want it back.

Briefly, you wonder what would happen if you confessed your feelings now. “I-” I have those feelings for you. It would be so easy - to just spill the words that have bubbled up at the back of your throat. However, you can’t bring yourself to do it. So, instead, “I guess,” you softly finish.

You don’t have to confess your feelings.

At least, not yet.

Soon, autumn rolls around the corner, and mid-October, you and your friends decide to take a much-needed vacation from both universities: Jungkook in his final year, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin all in their masters, and from work: you, Seokjin, Yoongi and Taehyung needing to recuperate from the stress of office life. Thus, your entire group decided to pool as much money together as you could, and take a spontaneous trip. Though, with half your friendship group still being broke university students, your holiday spots were sorely limited.

Nevertheless, deciding a weekend trip was the easiest - and probably the cheapest. You and your friends find yourself in a cabin nestled in the woods near Seoraksan National Park. It’s a quaint location - privately owned by an old couple who’d bought it in their prime - surrounded by trees and a little neighbouring stream. However, the lot of you had yet to explore any of the trails. Especially considering its late evening - all of you only arriving an hour ago.

“Can someone come and help me for a moment?” Seokjin calls, his voice echoing from the kitchen.

From your seat on the sofa, nestled comfortably between Namjoon’s thighs as you rest against his chest, you look around the room. Jungkook and Taehyung are in the middle of what seems to be an intense game of Jenga, Hoseok and Jimin cheering them from the sidelines. On the sofa opposite the one you and Namjoon are occupying, Yoongi is practically falling asleep - and you know he needs the rest: having pulled a double shift at the radio station he works at. Noting the way you shift, Namjoon lets out a whine of protest, his bulging biceps tightening around you as he tries to keep you in his arms.

Laughingly, “Joonie- you need to let me go. I’m gonna go help Jin,” you say as you try wriggling out of his grasps.

Namjoon only lets out a grunt of protest, “I literally stopped reading because you practically crawled into my lap, and this is the thanks I get?” he grumbles in mock petulance. Exasperated sighs escaping your lips, you untangle yourself from his embrace - Namjoon finally letting go of you, albeit reluctantly. “You owe me for this,” he groans as he stares up at you. Rolling your eyes, you bend over to the book he’d dropped on the ground when you’d practically smothered him with your body, and playfully throw it onto his stomach.

“Well, go back to reading then, you big baby,” you laugh. Then, not waiting for his response, you skip towards the kitchen in order to help Seokjin.

Mid-dinner preparation, and from your position besides Seokjin, you see Namjoon skulk into the kitchen. He’s got his hands buried into the large pockets of his grey hoodie, a small pout on his face. Ignoring his presence, you turn back to Seokjin, nodding with laughter as he continues animatedly talking about an incident at his office.

“And then, he literally takes his fish soup - which smells off by the way - and eats it like nothing's wrong. Literally, sitting with his shoes off and feet up on another chair! Completely ignoring the fact that the entire break room smells like a fish market and as if Yeojin wasn’t just watching him with her jaw open,” Seokjin finishes.

Letting out a loud guffaw, “no! He didn’t, oh my god. What did Yeojin do after that?” you ask, as your laughing body leans into Seokjin.

Taking a seat by the kitchen island, Namjoon’s eyes wander over you and Seokjin - his eyelids narrowing slightly at how close the two of you are standing. Seokjin is leaning slightly into you as he stirs the pot, your own body braced against his in a fit of giggles. Stomach dropping to the pits of his abdomen, and with a slightly soured expression, “what are you laughing about?” Namjoon asks as he approaches you.

“Oh, Jinnie was just telling me about these two people in his office. They keep fighting and Yeojin pissed Minki off, so he decided to eat fish soup in the office - knowing she hates the smell,” you reply simply, letting out a little laugh as you remember the story. Namjoon frowns when he watches you smile easily at Seokjin, your eyes alight with carefree happiness.

Pout deepening, he slips his arms under yours before wrapping them around your waist and pulling you into his chest. Angling your head up, you look at him curiously before laughing, “you okay, Joonie?” you ask. Despite your question, however, you smile brightly and instinctively sink into his embrace. From beside you, Seokjin looks at the two of you in exasperation, and after giving Namjoon a pointed, knowing look, turns back to his own task.

Really, Seokjin muses to himself, Namjoon could not be any more obvious with his feelings - or possessiveness. In fact, neither could you - the two of you practically glued at the hips. For as long as he’s known you both, the two of you have been like this - and yet, you’re still somewhat oblivious to the other’s feelings. After another shake of his head, he sighs in exasperation again before continuing to stir the pot.

Namjoon hums, placing his chin onto your head, “hmm. Uhh... yeah, just wondering if I can help?” He slowly asks.

Snorting, “absolutely not. You’re too much of a hazard risk here. Just go sit with everyone else,” you reply. Swiftly, you place the knife down and wriggle in his arms: unwinding from his grasp. Then, bracing your hands on his strong chest, you begin pushing him out of the kitchen.

“What- no, I can help,” Namjoon protests the entire time you push him. However, you refuse to be deterred.

“Nope! The last time you did that, you burnt your hands trying to drain some noodles. I love you Joon, but you don’t have a lot of common sense in the kitchen. Just go read your book. Seokjin and I are almost done anyway,” you say as you finally shoo him away. Your best friend lets out a little huff, but does as you ask. You watch as he sulks off, dropping to the couch huffily before he crosses his arms and pouts quietly. Shaking your head, you turn back into the kitchen - ready to finish up.

As you’d said - in another ten minutes, you and Seokjin are done. You help Seokjin carry the piles of dishes into the living room - deciding to sit around the coffee table and eat. When you place the last dish, you turn around to your best friend - only to see that he’s still pouting. With his strong eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks slightly puffed out and plush lips pursed, he’s the most adorable expression of frustrated petulance you’ve ever seen.

Grabbing one of the pieces of fried chicken, you plop yourself down beside Namjoon. Sullenly, Namjoon turns away from you - even as you hold out the chicken as a peace offering. Watching his reaction, you bite your lip and place the piece of chicken back down onto the table. From beside you, Jungkook looks at the two of you curiously, a piece of tempura prawn already halfway into his mouth.

“What’s wrong with Joon-hyung?” Jungkook questions, pointing his chopstick at your best friend.

“He’s mad ____ kicked him out the kitchen,” Seokjin replies simply before slurping his noodles.

Ignoring them, you place your hands on either side of Namjoon’s cheeks and squeeze them together, you turn his face towards you. “Joonbug, I’m sorry,” you say as you look at him with large eyes and an exaggerated pout. The corners of Namjoon’s lips twitch, causing you to let out a cheer of triumph. “I saw that! You can’t be mad at me anymore,” you practically shriek.

“That’s not fair! You know you look ridiculous when you pull that face, how am I supposed to stay mad at you,” Namjoon bemoans.

However, you’re already shaking your head and loudly smacking your lips, “nope,” you reply - harshly popping the ‘p’. “Too late. You love me,” you continue.

Eyes softening, Namjoon nudges you with his shoulder before reaching for a piece of chicken, “Nah- I’ve just known you for so long, I can’t get rid of you,” he retorts.

“Oh please, we all know you love me,” you snort back. And then, without thinking, you reach over and smack a wet kiss against Namjoon’s cheek. Playfully, he pulls a face before rubbing at the wet spot on his cheek and wiping it on your shirt excessively.

Before you can reply, “Oi! Can we just eat without you two being gross for once?” Jimin cuts in - throwing a cushion at the two of you.

“Yeah dudes, some of us are trying to eat,” Taehyung chimes in.

Namjoon and you still all of a sudden, completely taken aback by Taehyung and Jimin’s words. Matching identical expressions of surprise plastered onto your face, you both sputter at the same time, “what’s the supposed to mean?” Hearing the synchronous, twin cries out outrage, you both blink owlishly before turning to each other.

Scoffing playfully, “That’s what we mean,” Yoongi chimes in.

Hours later, you and Namjoon sit up in bed. With the room swallowed by darkness - the room is merely lit up by the soft ambient lights of the bedside tables and the soft streams of moonlight peeking through from under the heavy cotton curtains. Buried under the covers, with the sheets tucked under your lap, you practically lay on Namjoon’s chest: relishing in the way his chest rumbles under your head. When Namjoon lets out a sudden high pitched noise, you can’t help but let out a peal of raucous laughter.

“Oh my god, J-Joon that was s-so bad,” you choke out, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Playfully pinching your side, Namjoon pouts, “hey! Personally, I thought it was a very good elephant noise,” he replies haughtily.

Raising your eyebrow, “in what world is that an elephant noise? It sounded like you were blowing a very bad raspberry,” you reply indignantly.

“Oh like you could do better?” Namjoon drawls snarkily. Jaw dropping to your chest, you look up at him in mock ire.

Then, eyelids narrowing playfully, you crook your elbow over your mouth. “Oh, watch me,” you reply - easily accepting his challenge. However, just before you can blow into the skin of your elbow - there’s a knock at the door.

Rather than waiting for the two of you to answer, Yoongi is already opening the door. The two of you wince, your eyes squinting as the stark white lights of the corridor break into the soft golden ambience of your bedroom. “Do you both ever sleep?” Yoongi mumbles as he shuffles into the room.

“Coming from you that’s pretty rich, Yoon,” you reply back, a playful grin on your face. Yoongi tuts, however, before he can say anything, he simply stops and takes in the sight of you. With your head laid on Namjoon’s chest, his body propped against the headboard, and the sheets comfortably draped around your bodies, you look the epitome of an old married couple; and he’ll never understand how the two of you aren’t together yet. Friends don’t act the way the two of you do - and even best friends aren’t as close as you both are. In fact, he knows if he were to take the covers off you both - neither of you would be wearing pyjama bottoms.

Choosing to ignore your comment, and how ridiculously at ease the two of you are together, “Yeah, whatever. It’s almost sunrise and we were thinking of going up the hill just outside Seoraksan Park and watching it, if you wanna join us,” Yoongi says as he scratches his ear.

“Wait- what? Sunrise? Already?” you ask, as you sit up in bed. Namjoon follows your movement, sitting up straighter as you both glance at the clock on the table next to your bed.

“Fuck, have we really been awake the entire night? How? What have we even been doing” Namjoon asks, turning to you with the most adorable look of perturbation you’ve ever seen. Not having an answer to his question, you simply shrug your shoulders. Staying up early into the morning was a common occurrence where Namjoon and you were concerned. Somedays, you don’t even remember what you’d talked about or what you’d done - you only knew that you’d spent the entirety of the night with him by your side.

“How the fuck do you not know the time? Or what you’ve been doing- you know what, it doesn’t matter,” Yoongi begins ranting only to stop. Taking a deep breath, he sighs, “Are you guys coming?” he breathes out.

Looking at Namjoon, you quirk your eyebrow at him. Yoongi watches as the two of you simply watch each other - and neither of you says anything, yet he knows somehow you’re both still having an internal conversation. Then, in a borderline creepy manner, you both turn at the same time and nod.

“Yeah, just give us a moment to get dressed,” Namjoon says as he pushes the sheets off of your both. Yoongi frowns, diverting his eyes immediately - because just as he’d predicted, both of you are dressed in just t-shirts and your underwear.

Exasperated sigh falling from his lips, and with a shake of his head, “Just meet us by the door,” Yoongi calls out as he exits your room.

Namjoon turns around to you, and with a quirk of his eyebrow, “What do you think is up with him?” he asks.

Shrugging, “honestly? No idea,” you reply.

Pulling your jacket closer around you, you shiver at the early morning chill: goosebumps prickling over your flesh as the crisp squall kisses your skin. Shrouded in darkness, the night sky looms over your group of friends as you carefully walk over the cobbled stone pathway. Large, slippery slates of stone litter the area: the boulders covered in a light sheen of river water from the stream nearby and leafy mosses poking through the narrow cracks between them. Considering this route isn’t exactly public - the grounds belong to the sweet couple who owned the lodge - the pathway isn’t as maintained as it could be - and all of you hold onto each other, keeping the other steady.

Namjoon’s hand firmly grips yours as he carefully steps over the rocks, and you know he’s using you as more of a support than you are using him, but you can’t help it. For as long as you’ve known him, Namjoon has been inherently clumsy; and constantly, you worry about his safety. Especially on excursions like this - the only light illuminating your path coming from the harsh flashlights of your phones. Nonetheless, your eyes glance to where your hands are linked, your heart fluttering at the sight.

His hand is large: dwarfing your smaller one, and warmth seeps from his skin towards yours: a smaller blessing considering the nippy air of the early morning. When he’s firmly stable on the boulder, he turns to you from over his shoulder. Even with the practically nonexistent lighting, you can still make out his face as he regards you with the brightest - somewhat sleepy - grin. The sight of him: lips pulled thin in a smile and dimples indented, paired with the way his frame is silhouetted in the shades of fall, has your heart clenching. Tightening your hold on Namjoon’s hand, you allow his strong frame to anchor you as you take another step forward - most of the other boys already ahead of you. Not that either of you mind, you and Namjoon tended to go off into your own world on walks like this anyway.

Eventually, the pathway morphs from slippery rocks to soft terrain. Reaching the entrance to the forest trail that apparently - according to the old couple - leads to a beautiful hilltop viewpoint, the eight of you gather around. Dawn’s twilight paints the sky - honeyed shades of topaz, rose and lilacs splattering across the night. The soft light finally illuminates the pathway, allowing you to see more clearly. Autumn is thick around you - the foliage emblazoned in colours of scarlet, amber and gold. Though, occasionally, trees with vibrant viridian and olivine foliage peek through the warm shades of fall. The ground is covered in dead leaves - the fallow litterfall cushioning the terrain, and crackling under your footsteps.

Beginning your descent down the winding trail - everyone breaks off into small groups: the pathway only wide enough to fit two people at a time. As usual, you and Namjoon find yourself at the rear end: your best friend stopping every now and then to snap a picture of the scenic landscapes around him. You love your best friend, you really do, but as he stops to inspect a rustling bush, you can’t help but sigh. Turning over your shoulder, your eyes widen as you realise that the boys have walked off further than you’d anticipated - however - before you can say something, Namjoon is already grabbing your hand once again.

“Did you see that?” Namjoon asks, a look of awed wonder etched onto his face. Eyebrows furrowing, you turn to where he’s pointing. Once again, the brush rustles, and when a chipmunk pops out, you take a surprised step back. It’s beady eyes take in you and Namjoon for a moment, and then it retreats back into the brush. “Wait- oh my god… There’s a hidden pathway! We should follow it,” Namjoon says ecstatically, his entire body vibrating with excitement. You’ve both been up the entire night, and with your walk, you find yourself growing tired. You know he is too. Yet, despite the sleepiness clouding both your bodies, his warm chocolate eyes practically sparkle; his entire aura buzzing with eagerness.

Biting your lip, you try to suppress your smile - though, you're sure your own look of excitement mirrors his. Desperately, you want to grab his hand and chase after the chipmunk - reminiscent of the days you’d do the same when you were children. However, you’re older now, and your friends have already walked off - and you really don’t want to get lost in a forest. Well you do, especially if it’s with Namjoon. But still, you need to be somewhat responsible. So, “Joonbug-” you try to reason, because really if you didn’t, no one would.

A knowing look on his face, “Moonbeam,” replies, his pet name for you dripping affectionately from his thick lips, “come on, it’ll be an adventure. There’s a little pathway here,” Namjoon says, as he reaches his hand out to you, the other pushing the bush out of the way. Instantly, you cave - because really, how could you say no to him - especially when you really don’t want to say no.

Placing your hand into his, “Alright, but if we get lost and Seokjin yells at us, I’m blaming you,” you reply cheekily. Instinctively, Namjoon’s fingers lace through yours as he tugs you towards the concealed pathway.

“I’ll just tell him you enabled me to do it,” Namjoon snaps back, a playful tone laced into his words. Then, without another word, he’s pulling you into the narrow pathway. Rapidly, he begins tearing through the trail, following the winding, narrow pathway as best as he can.

Your best friend is tall, and his legs are long - making his strides particularly lengthy - and you know anyone else would fall behind pretty quickly.

But not you.

No. You’ve grown up with Namjoon. You’re used to him grabbing your hand and running, used to chasing after him; and you’re used to keeping up with him easily. So, even with his long strides, and how quickly his feet slap the ground - you manage to follow him easily, your own toes just behind his heels. Colours of crimson, gold and honey blur past you, the crunching of leaves and the sound of your stomping feet mixing in a thunderous cacophony of sounds that fill the air.

However, you barely notice any of it. Rather, you’re far too fixated on your best friend. His hand is laced firmly in yours the entire time you chase after him - his long legs practically sprinting down the trail and after the chipmunk. Childlike glee exudes off of him in thick waves, and with the way his body bounces, his hair flopping as he runs, you can’t help the way your eyes soften. His large frame tears through the thicket of woods, the trunks whizzing past you while your own legs sprint as fast as they can.

Lost in Namjoon, you don’t notice him suddenly skid to a halt - at least, not until you’re crashing into his back. Steadfast, Namjoon braces himself - the two of you stumbling for a moment. Just in the nick of time, however, you both steady yourself: preventing you from falling over. Features scrunching in confusion, you look up at the back of his head in question.

“Joon, what-” you ask, only to halt when you peer over his large body.

Somehow, the hidden trail has led you both to a different viewpoint than the one the couple had told you about. Standing near the edge of the hilltop, you find yourself completely breathless at the view that greets your eyes.

At the top of one of Seokraksan’s many mountainous points, you can see miles off into the distance. Twilight slowly slips past, the sky indolently brightening with each passing moment. Dark shades of Prussian blue, indigo and plum soften into milder hues of lavender and azure; streaks of bronze and coral cutting through the sky. Stepping beside Namjoon, you both watch - in utter stillness, and awe - as the sun slowly rises over the skyline.

Thick beams of Aurelian gold peek over the horizon; illuminating the entirety of the ground with its rich sunkissed glow. Synchronously, both yours and Namjoon’s breath hitches. As the sun rises, the entirety of Seoraksan National park is lit up in the dazzling hues of daybreak. Autumnal trees of vibrant shades shimmer under its gleaming rays; the water from the narrow river that cuts through the park glistening in deep shades of cerulean and sapphire.

Turning to Namjoon, you can’t help but stop. Instantly, your breath catches in your throat and you find yourself at a loss for words. With the sun still rising in the sky, his entire body is silhouetted in a golden halo: the rays of light dancing enticingly around him. The autumn wind is light in the air, his hair gently billowing in the wind as sunlight filters through it.

And then he turns around.

Automatically, you suck in a sharp breath. With his face towards you, encased in the golden hues of daylight, you can’t help the overwhelming swell of emotions that crush you. Reflected in his warm eyes, are the golden rays of sunlight; causing the deep pools of coffee to twinkle with a certain mix of lightness and peace. The corners of his mouth are loosely pulled upwards, an easy smile painted on his lips. He stands with his hands loosely in the pockets of his oversized denim jacket, his shoulders completely lax as he soaks in the breathtaking scenery.

Swallowing thickly, you try to swallow the lump in your throat - but you can’t. Nor can you settle the beat of your heart: the muscle thunderously palpitating between your ribs. You don’t know what compels you to do it - but suddenly, you’re taking a step forward. And then another. And another. Until you’re right in front of him.

Namjoon watches you quietly - a light streak of curiousness evident in his eyes. However, that inkling of interest is overshadowed by the overwhelming emotion that you simply cannot decipher.

Nonetheless, the moment you’re only a hair’s breadth apart, you find yourself winding your arms around his waist. Instinctively, Namjoon’s hands drop from his pockets, his hands curling around your and encasing you in his hold. Then, before you can even think about it, or consider stopping yourself, you’re leaning on your tiptoes and pressing a light kiss to his lips.

For a fraction of a second, Namjoon’s eyes widen - his brain on the fritz as he feels your soft lips tenderly brush against his. The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark of electricity jolt through your body; your entire being coming to life as you buzz with excitement. Its sudden spark has you crashing back to reality, your senses finally coming back to you. As quick as it comes, however, and before he can react, you’re already swiftly pulling away.

The two of you stare at each in surprise, neither of you saying anything. You can still taste him on your lips, the soft petals tingling from when your mouth had tenderly caressed his. Licking your lips, dread floods through you as you wait for him to say something. However, he doesn’t. Instead, he stands completely rigid - his eyes glazed over and lips slightly parted.

When the silence grows terse, “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” you quickly blurt out. Your words have Namjoon crashing back to reality, and he draws to his full height - an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I mean- I’m just tired, we’ve been up all night and I wasn’t thinking straight-” you try to explain. It’s a lie. You know it is - but hopefully, it’s a lie he believes. You had wanted to kiss Namjoon - desperately - because sheathed in the early morning light, you don’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful. Nonetheless - you’d rather not lose your best friend.

“Oh,” Namjoon breathes out, his plump lips forming a perfect ‘o’.

The fierce urge to pull him in for another kiss tears through you, but this time, you manage to suppress it.

“Oh,” Namjoon repeats, almost as if he’s trying to process your words. There’s something hidden behind the way the sound drops from his lips - but before you can dwell on it, he’s already speaking.

“That’s okay, we’re both tired,” Namjoon nods, a light, nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “It’s okay, it means nothing… right?” he finishes. Although, you can’t help but wonder about the uncertainty in his final word.

Nonetheless, “Y-yeah, you’re right,” you mumble out, trying to stifle the way your throat constricts. Anguish cascades through you, your chest turning numb. However, it’s for the best. As much as you love Namjoon, losing him would completely devastate you. Gulping heavily, you lick your lips, “we’re okay… right?” you ask, your voice straining slightly as you attempt to choke out the words.

Namjoon smiles brightly - though, you can’t help but notice how it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “When are we not okay? It’s you and me, ____. Joonbug and Moonbeam, remember?” he replies easily, his eyes squinted shut into crescented slits.

“Yeah… Joonbug and Moonbeam,” you repeat; a smile curling onto your own face. Even as your heart aches to be more. Then, the two of you go back to staring at the sunrise.

For the rest of the trip, you and Namjoon don’t act any differently. In fact, both of you pretend as if you hadn’t kissed by the sunrise: that you didn’t know how the other tasted after a sleepless night filled with nothing but each other.

Yet, neither of you can deny that something about your relationship has changed. Though, as dread settles in your stomach, you can’t figure out whether it’s a good or bad change.

Four months after your kiss, you find yourself on the sofa with Namjoon. Not much has changed about your relationship with him; in fact, there are only two things that have changed. One is the fact that your feelings for your best friend have grown exponentially, and more often than not, you find yourself lost in him: desperately wishing to feel his lips on yours or to confess the weight of the emotions you feel for him: the words at the tip of your tongue.

Nevertheless, you don’t. You can’t. Not after the way he’d reacted to your first kiss in the first place. Though, there are times you wish he’d reacted differently - wish that your relationship was more than it is. Like right now.

You and Namjoon are currently on the sofa, his head resting on your chest and arms loosely thrown around your waist as you hold him; the two of you watching Shark Tale together. Why he’d suddenly wanted to watch Shark Tale, you have no idea. Nonetheless, there’s very little you can deny your best friend - so when he’d wanted to watch the film, you’d easily given in.

Namjoon’s gaze is glued to the screen, his eyes focused as he lazily watches the TV screen. Your focus, however, is fixated wholly onto him. With the way he’s laid on you, his body practically smothering yours, you can feel the way his chest rises and falls above yours, and the faint thudding of his heartbeat. Instinctively, your hands find themselves in his hair - loosely twirling the thick, silken locks between your fingertips.

It’s at moments like these, that you wish you were more: wish that you could call out his name softly and press your lips to him. But you can’t; because the second reason your relationship with Namjoon has changed, is that he’s now dating someone. And you mean dating - because he has yet to introduce her to you as his girlfriend - and until he does, you refuse to call her that. Mainly because it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

More than halfway through the film, and during the scene where Angie finally confesses her love to Oscar - really, you have to scoff - there’s an aggressive rapping at your front door. Before the two of you can even move, the door twists and slams open, revealing Oh Jihee. Why Namjoon had told her where the spare key to your apartment was hidden, you have no idea.

Indolently, Namjoon turns to the door, however, before he can even open his mouth to say anything, she’s already speaking. “What is happening here?” she asks, her eyes suspiciously roving over the two of you.

“Oh, ____ and I were just watching Shark Tale. Why are you here?” Namjoon asks as he slowly pulls away from you. The moment he’s off of you, the weight on top of your chest growing light, your stomach sinks in dejection.

Raising her eyebrow, she places her hands on her hips, “Because we had a date. That you’ve clearly forgotten about,” Jihee replies snarkily, throwing a scathing look towards you. You simply cock your eyebrow and scoff - it’s not your fault Namjoon forgot about his alleged date. Though, you can’t help the streak of happiness that flitters through you: he’d unknowingly chosen to spend time with you and not Jihee.

Namjoon pulls himself off of the couch and walks over to her. Then, pulling her into his arms, he presses a soft kiss against her temple. The tender gesture has you looking away, your features falling as despair settles deep within the pits of your abdomen. “Oh. Was that today? I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind. Let me go shower and get dressed quickly,” Namjoon softly apologises. Jihee’s eyes soften, and with an exasperated sigh, she nods.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she replies before kissing the corner of his mouth. Then, she beckons him away - leaving the two of you alone. As soon as he disappears into his bedroom, Jihee turns to you, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“What’s your problem?” she hisses. Cocking your eyebrow, you slip off of the couch and begin clearing the snacks from the coffee table.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you reply back coolly.

“Yes, you do. Why do you both always act like you’re a couple, when you’re not? I don’t like how comfortable you are touching my boyfriend,” Jihee seethes back. Your stomach sinks at the term, but you suppress your own sadness. It’s not like it mattered anyway - Namjoon was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend. Just your best friend. Something you reiterate to her.

“We’ve been friends since we were children - it’s just how we’ve always been,” you shrug back simply.

“Yeah, well I’d like you to stop, I don’t like it. In fact, I don’t like your relationship with him at all,” she responds, her lips pursing into a sour expression.

Snorting lightly, “yeah, well, I don’t really care. He’s my best friend, he’s not going to stop being my best friend because you don’t like our relationship. And if you have a problem with it - you can take it to Namjoon. But you and I both know he won’t like that, which is why you’re saying this to me when he’s not here,” you retort easily.

Jihee splutters for a moment, “that’s not why I’m doing it,” she protests weakly. Though, neither of you believe that for a single moment, “besides- what do you know about what he likes. I’m his girlfriend,” she snaps.

A look of incredulity paints your face at that, and with a disbelieving chuckle, “you did not just imply that you know more about him than me, just because you’re in a relationship with him,” you say.

“And what if I did? We’re together, he would have told me more. Things he can’t tellyou,” Jihee replies - although, from her own uncertain tone, you both know she’s just grasping at straws. You’ve known Namjoon for two decades - that’s a long time. The onlyperson who knows more about him than you, is his own mother. And even then, you know probably just as much as she does.

“That’s a joke right. You literally cannot be serious. You know nothing about him. Nothing,” you spit back, your anger finally getting to you. Of course, your words are said in the heat of the moment, but you mean them - because they’re true. She knows next to nothing about him - especially since you know she forces her own opinions and personality onto him. Another reason you do not like her.

“I know things!” Jihee seethes back. Her voice is slightly shrill, and loud enough that you send a quick glance at the two spare rooms. Namjoon is in the shower - so hopefully- he won’t be able to hear this argument. Hoseok’s room is shut, and you can hear the soft tempo of his music coming from behind - so you’re not too worried about him listening in either.

Turning back to Jihee, you fold your hands across your chest and regard her cooly. “What’s his favourite breakfast?” you ask, all of a sudden.

“W-what?” Jihee stutters, a look of confusion colouring her features.

“You heard me, if you know so much about him, what’s his favourite breakfast?” you repeat.

“That’s easy. Poached eggs and toast - we go to brunch all the time, you know,” she replies haughtily.

“No. It’s any sugary cereal. In particular, he likes Lucky Marshmallows with extramarshmallows. Sometimes he literally saves all the marshmallows for last just so he can eat an entire bowl of them,” you reply easily.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jihee tries to cut in but you shake your head.

“For your one month anniversary,” you begin, internally cringing - really, they’ve only been together three months, so why she had wanted to celebrate a month, you do not understand, “you booked a seafood restaurant,” you continue.

“He likes seafood!” Jihee cuts in.

“Not as food, he likes them as pets - or to collect them - but he doesn’t like eating them. You constantly want to join him on his walks - but sometimes he needs to be alone,” you begin. You don’t know why you do it, but all of a sudden, you find yourself laying into her.

Sucking in a deep breath, you continue, “I know you met him at an art exhibition, and Iknow that he loves music, and art and philosophy and I know you share those together. But those aren’t the only aspects of his personality.” Briefly, you pause, your eyes slightly tearing up. However, rather than letting it get to you, you blink them away.

“Namjoon- he’s a huge dork. He’s more than those selective interests that you’ve singled out. He grows bonsai in his spare time and names all of them and speaks to them. He easily gets distracted by different animals - like frogs, or squirrels or chipmunks - and he always needs to stop and try to pick them up. He eats spoonfuls of sugar when he thinks no one is around. He loves cute things and buys more Kaws and Ryan or Brown plushies than a grown man needs. He can be whiny, and petty, and sometimes borderline childish but it’s who he is.”

Again, you stop, your chest heaving in the slightest from your sudden rant. You have no idea what overcame you, but the moment you’d started speaking, it had felt like a dam had burst. Jihee simply stands stock still, looking at you in disbelief. Letting out a deep breath, you run your fingers through your hair. “That is who he will always be and you cannot change who he is - or pick and choose aspects that you like. If you honestly want to be with him, if you have any feelings for him - you will understand that he is perfect the way he is. You should love him for who he is,” you finally finish. Desperately, you want to throw the words ‘Like I do’ but you can’t. Instead, you left them unsaid.

With your little spiel well and truly done, silence falls over the room. Jihee regards you coldly, her eyes glazed with passiveness, and her face an expression of stoic calmness. But then, she grits her teeth, and with a low voice, “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. Because he’s dating me not you,” she hisses out. Her words are low, barely above a whisper, and yet the heavy scorn tears through you. Her words cut you like a knife, leaving your chest numb and your heart aching with hurt.

Unable to say anything, you simply bite your lips. Fists clenched to the side of your body, your knuckles turn white and you simply stare at each other. Repeatedly, you open your mouth to argue - to say something - but you know she’s right. It doesn’t matter if you know Namjoon, or that you’ve been his best friend for over two years. All that matters is that he still chose her - that she’s his girlfriend.

Nonetheless, before you can say anything, Namjoon pops out of his bedroom - hair slightly damp and dressed for the day. Smiling gently at Jihee, he walks over to her before beckoning her towards the door. Jihee returns his smile, her eyes briefly flashing with smugness as she looks at you. Throat tight, you attempt to turn away. However, just as you do, Namjoon smiles tightly at you.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” he says, before guiding Jihee out of the apartment - leaving you alone.

That night, you sit on the couch - a fluffy blanket thrown over your lap - and Hoseok beside you, as you both idly flick through your phones. The two of you sit in complete silence, Hoseok laughing quietly and showing you a funny picture on his timeline, before turning back to his own phone. Time moves past slowly, and every now and then, your gaze flicks to the entrance of your flat, and you silently wonder when Namjoon will come home. Or if he was even coming home tonight.

Nonetheless, you don’t have to wait any longer - because, all of a sudden, the doorknob is twisting and Namjoon walks through. Eyebrows scrunching in befuddlement, you watch as he drags his feet into your apartment. Shrugging off his jacket, he stays quiet, his shoulders slumped as he kicks off his shoes.

“Joon? You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice as you sit up. Namjoon only hums casually, but other than that he doesn’t say anything. Dread flits through you, your stomach dropping at his lacklustre posture.

Then, “I’m going to go to bed, yeah?” he says, before shuffling into his room. His door slams shut softly, and you feel your heart sink into your chest. You simply can’t shake off the feeling that your argument with Jihee has something to do with Namjoon’s upset. Once he’s safely behind his closed door, you blink owlishly and turn to Hoseok, the two of you looking at each other in worry.

Gaze flicking to his shut bedroom door, “Do you think something happened?” you whisper lowly as you bite your lip in nervousness.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s about your fight with Jihee,” Hoseok casually replies with a shrug. Taken aback, you look at him in a mix of trepidation and confusion. His words had only confirmed your suspicion that it was something to do with your earlier argument.

“Do you think he heard?”

Hoseok sighs at your question. “Honestly, if I heard it over my music, he definitely heard it in the shower. But- I can’t say for sure. You’re going to have to ask him yourself,” he replies - almost diplomatically.

“If he heard then I don’t think he’s going to want to speak to me right now,” you point out. However, your words only cause Hoseok to scoff.

“Please, the day Joon doesn’t want to talk to you, is the day hell literally freezes over. When have either of you ever had an argument that has lasted more than a couple of hours?” Hoseok questions, his perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising slightly.

You open your mouth to respond, before pausing. Eyebrows furrowed, you struggle to try and remember a time the two of you hadn’t spoken for longer than a few hours. You and Namjoon fight, of course you do, however, they’ve never really been serious - and you’ve always made up eventually. The two of you just couldn’t bear to be apart. Seeing the dawning look of realisation on your face, Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle.

“Exactly. Just go speak to him - I’m sure you’re overthinking it anyway,” Hoseok encourages. Smiling gently at him, you nod and throw the blanket off of you.

Padding over to Namjoon’s room, you knock on the door tentatively. From behind the wooden frame, Namjoon grunts, and taking it as a sign of entry, you walk into his bedroom. The moment you see him, you bite your lip, your heart clinching in anguish. He’s sat up in bed, dressed in his pyjamas, and casually scrolling through his phone. His speakers blear music softly, faint acoustic beats thrumming through the quiet bedroom. Stepping further into his room, you call out to him softly.

“Namjoon… is everything okay?” you ask, shuffling nervously in place.

With a sigh, “Jihee and I decided it was best to stop seeing each other,” Namjoon replies. Blood running cold, you look at him in a mixture of shock and barely concealed hope. However, swiftly, you suppress them - you need to be there for your best friend right now.

Tentatively, “You broke up? Why?” you ask.

“We weren’t really together to break up, we were just dating,” Namjoon replies. Then, eyeing your apprehensive state in amusement, “you can join me you know,” Namjoon says as he pats the spot next to him.

Breathing out in relief, you quickly cross his room and join him on the bed. You shuffle in next to him, Namjoon automatically throwing the covers over you. Once you’re settled down, you curl your hands in your lap and turn to look at him. “Do you want to talk about it? You never answered why you broke up,” you point out, your voice low.

Namjoon hums before lolling his head back to rest against the wall. He stares at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing for a couple of moments. Then, “I heard your argument with her,” he confesses.

A sad smile curls on your face, and with downcast eyes, you stare at your hands. “I feared as much. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep or anything… I just- she didn’t seem right for you, I guess,” you admit. Because I’m the right one for you. The words echo in your mind, but again, you push them far back into your head. You do not need to dwell on that right now.

“Hmm. Well, you’re right. There was too much about us that clashed… which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But at the same time, I didn’t feel comfortable being myself around her either,” he says. “I’m not upset at you or anything by the way. If anything, I’m grateful. If you hadn’t said what you had, I probably wouldn’t have realised how unhappy I was with her,” Namjoon admits with a tender smile.

“I still feel bad…” you begin.

However, Namjoon cuts you off. “I didn’t have feelings for her. She’d seen me at the museum a couple of times and asked me out. I didn’t really notice until she came up to me,” he chuckles lightly. Your eyes soften at that. Namjoon is beautiful, and if anyone were to ask you, you’d tell them that he was the ideal man. With his soft, devastatingly handsome looks, and his tender heart and enigmatic brain, Namjoon is yourideal man. But he’d never really appreciated his own charm - he never really understood why women were so attracted to him. More than anything, he barely even recognised when women flirted with him. It was endearing, really.

“Why did you say yes, then?” you ask curiously.

Namjoon pauses at that. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before turning back to the ceiling. He’d never admit it out loud, but the reason he’d said yes was because of your kiss, all those months ago. The moment he’d felt your lips on his, he’d been electrified and dazed - and for the first time in a while - his brain had completely shut down and he hadn’t been able to act. But by the time he’d processed it, ready to press his lips harder into yours and really taste you, you were already pulling away and apologising.

The very second your mouth had brushed his, Namjoon knew you were the one for him. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips, and your warm breath wafting over his chin. Contrary to your beliefs, Namjoon did, in fact, notice the attention girls paid him. He just didn’t care. Mainly because his heart already belonged to you. Admittedly, falling in love with your best friend was the world’s most cliche move - but he just couldn’t help it. No one compared to you.

So when you’d pulled away like that, he couldn’t help the way his heart had yearned for you, and he knew he had to at least try to move on. Which is where Jihee had come in. Nevertheless, no matter how much Jihee loved art, or philosophy, it didn’t matter - because she wasn’t you. She’s not you and he never really could stop comparing the two of you to each other. It wasn’t fair on either of you - particularly because he knew he’d never love anyone the way he loves you. And your argument with Jihee had only cemented that.

When he’d overheard your exchange, he’d been shocked. Of course, he knew that you’d known a lot about him, but having you admit so clearly and so boldly that she should love him for him - for every aspect that made him: the good and the bad. Well, it only had him falling deeper for you. So, when Jihee had bought up your less than conventional friendship, and how the tactility between the two of you made her uncomfortable - well, he’d known he had to end it with her there.

Not only because she’d been uncomfortable with his friendship with you - really, why had she ever thought he’d give you up for her? You’ve been in his life twenty years, he’d only known her around three months - but she’d also wanted him to stop being so physical with you. Thus, Namjoon had decided it was best for the two of them to part ways. Also because, well, he’s in love with you. But that’s neither here nor there - especially since you don’t feel the same way.

At one point, he thought you had. Nonetheless, after your kiss, he’s not so sure. And he’s not willing to risk your friendship either. You mean far too much to him to risk anything without any certainty that you felt the same way.

“Joon?” you softly call out, dragging him from his own musings. “You never responded,” you continue.

Biting his lips, “Just because,” he responds. No. He could not admit his feelings for you. At the very least, not now.

It’s the middle of August, when you find yourself in Namjoon’s family’s log cabin on Jeju Island. As usual, the family had decided to take their yearly trip to the island, and like every other year, you had been extended an invite by Namjoon’s parents. His family and you are currently gathered around the garden while Namjoon’s dad barbeques some meat. Your best friend stands beside you, the two of you idly chatting with his parents.

“So, ____, are you seeing anyone?” Namjoon’s dad asks all of a sudden. The question surprises you, causing you to choke on the piece of meat you’d just been swallowing. Namjoon’s mom looks pointedly at her husband before lightly patting your back. However, she can’t help but notice the way her son stiffens beside you, his gaze narrowed onto his own plate.

Managing to swallow the piece of meat, you turn to Namjoon’s dad, “No, I’m not Mr. Kim, why?” you ask. Namjoon’s dad simply smiles, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“I was just wondering. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, after all. I know Namjoon was seeing someone a little while ago, but Yunmi mentioned they broke up,” Namjoon’s dad answers casually. Both you and Namjoon stiffen at that. Momentarily, you look at each other before looking away.

“Dad,” Namjoon begins, but swiftly, you cut him off.

“Ah, well, I’m not. I just… haven’t met the right guy yet, you know?” you reply awkwardly. You have met the right guy, he just doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. At your words, once again the two of you glance at each other before turning away. Your ears burn slightly, and picking up your chopsticks, you place another piece of meat into your mouth. From beside you, Namjoon’s gaze shifts to you briefly, a flicker of yearning flitting through his eyes.

Namjoon’s mother stares at the two of you knowingly, a soft smile gracing her face. Really, for as long as she’s known you, she’s been hoping that you and Namjoon would end up together. Yet, for years now, both her and her husband have watched the two of you dance around each other; your relationship clearly more than platonic, and yet neither of you doing anything about it. However, she knows that somehow, eventually, the two of you would end up together. She knew the day Namjoon had come home - back when he was merely sixteen - complaining about the boy you had a crush on.

“Are you sure? There’s this nice boy I know, I can introduce you to-” Namjoon’s dad begins. Instantly, Namjoon’s head snaps up and he looks at his father in a mix of despair and betrayal. Next to him, you stand rigid, your ears burning with embarrassment.

Sensing your awkwardness, “That’s enough, Hongjoon. I’m sure Namjoon and ____ don’t want to spend their time speaking about relationships. Just grill the meat,” Namjoon’s mother chastises, her husband only sending her a knowing grin in response.

“Very well, very well. Do you want some grilled shrimp, Namjoon?” Hongjoon asks, holding out a skewer of prawns towards his son. Namjoon looks at his father in horror, and quickly, you’re taking the skewer from his dad.

“Mr Kim, Namjoon doesn’t eat seafood, remember? However, I’d be happy to have them. Here, Joon, you can have this beef- I won’t be able to eat the shrimp too,” you easily say, passing over your meat towards him. Yunmi looks at her husband, knowing full well he’d done it purposely, however, Hongjoon just sends her an innocent smile before turning back to his grill. When a giggle resounds through the air, she turns her attention back to the two of you.

“Joon, how do you manage to get the sauce all over you? Honestly. Here,” you chide. Then, picking up a tissue, you gently dab the corner of his mouth. Yunmi watches the way you lean into each other, Namjoon standing completely still as he lets you wipe the sauce from his lips. Her eyes flicking over her son, she can’t help but smile at the way he softly watches you - nothing but tender love and affection present in his eyes.

Really, with how often you both act like a couple, she has no idea how you aren’t together yet. Unable to stop herself, “isn’t that adorable,” she coos. Both of you still, your hand midway in the air while Namjoon looks at his mother in annoyance. “Sorry, sorry. It just reminds me of when you both were younger, and the two of you would play house,” Namjoon’s mother reminisces.

“Mom- why would you bring that up?” Namjoon whines, his usually deep voice slightly higher than usual. You don’t say anything, instead, just biting your lip fondly. You remember those days - when you and Namjoon would run around pretending to be husband and wife, with your stuffed teddy bear playing your son. Briefly, you send him a side glance, your heart constricting within your chest. For the longest time, you’ve imagined your future with Namjoon. Though, you know it will never come to fruition.

“Because, Namjoon, you used to always run around saying that you would eventually marry ____. It’s nice to see that your friendship hasn’t changed though, and you’re still close - even if ____ has to look after you all the time,” Namjoon’s mum says, smiling playfully at her son.

Ignoring her first statement, “Hey! I look after her too, you know,” Namjoon splutters in indignation.

That has you scoffing and playfully rolling your eyes. “Oh please, let’s not forget that I almost had to take you to the ER because you got your fingers stuck in one of those Chinese finger puzzles,” you snort back.

Namjoon’s mother blinks in surprise, and a smirk curling on her face, “did he now? ____, you have to tell me all about it,” Yunmi says. The two of you let out twin - borderline terrifying - giggles, Namjoon simply groaning and throwing his head back.

He’d forgotten how close you and his mother were - and that frequently, you’d gang up against him. Though, watching the two of you easily speak to each other, he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if it came at his own expense.

Jogging down the stairs from your room, you look for Namjoon. The two of you had plans to go on a walk along the beach, however, he had yet to come and find you. Thus, growing tired of waiting for your best friend, you decide to find him yourself. Softly padding to the kitchen, you briefly pause when you realise he’s in there with his mother. She’s currently chopping carrots, Namjoon sitting at the island with a cup of tea in his hands.

“I don’t see why you don’t just do it. Your father and I have said we support you multiple times,” his mother sighs. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you find yourself hiding behind the wall. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but you simply can’t help yourself. Besides, Namjoon’s mother’s words have you growing curious about their topic of conversation.

“I’ve already told you-” Namjoon tries arguing, but his mother cuts him off mid-sentence,

“Namjoon, you keep denying it, but your father and I have watched the two of you dance around each other for years. You cannot tell me that you are just friends. Friends don’t act the way the two of you do, you know,” Yunmi says pointedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Namjoon asks, his head cocking to the side. Your stomach flips as you realise that they’re talking about the two of you. Shuffling further behind the wall, you press your back towards it as you continue listening in.

“It means that friends don’t hold hands because it feels comfortable, or they don’t wipe sauce from the other’s lips, and they certainly don’t cuddle together while sharing the same bed. Which,” Yunmi begins, emphasising her word when Namjoon opens his mouth to argue, “is not something your father and I have a problem with, by the way. We both like ____, we’ve known her for a long time. We know you’ll look after each other and you’ll be happy together. So why haven’t you done anything about it? We just want you to be happy, Namjoon,” Yunmi finishes.

You bite your lips at her words, your stomach flipping in a mixture of hope and nervousness. Fingers shaking slightly, you hold your breath as you await Namjoon’s response. Then, you hear him sigh and you feel your world crumble around you.

“Yeah, but mom, it’s not like that. We’re not like that. We’re just friends,” Namjoon replies. Harshly, you press your teeth down onto your lip, chewing it so intensely you fear you’ll draw blood. However, it’s the only thing keeping you from letting out a sob. Namjoon’s words replay over and over in your mind. Of course, you always knew he’d felt that way - but having it confirming it so casually, has your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen in any longer, you silently turn around and rush back up the stairs - being as quiet as you possibly can. Once you’re up the stairs, you enter the room you’re currently sharing with Namjoon before softly shutting the door. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat - your breath laboured as you try to stop yourself from breaking out into sobs.

Walking further into the room, you take a seat onto the bed before whipping out your phone. In times like these, you’d usually call Namjoon to comfort you - but considering he’s the reason you’re hurt - you know you can’t do that. So, instead, you quickly open your contacts and call the next best thing - Jung Hoseok. Pressing the call button by his contact name, you lift the phone to your ear. With the phone ringing in your eardrum, you quietly will him to pick up, urgently needing someone to speak to.

“Hello?” Hoseok’s sweet voice comes across the phone.

“Hoseok,” you breathe out.

“____? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Where’s Namjoon?” Hoseok asks, alarm evident in his voice as he hears the heavy emotion in yours.

“I’m fine… Somewhat. I just- I needed someone to speak to, and it can’t be Namjoon,” you reply breathily. Realising there’s no reason to panic, Hoseok calms down.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” he asks gently. His sweet voice echoes through your ears, calming you down. Other than Namjoon - Hoseok was really the only one who could soothe you when you’re upset. “Just breathe in deeply, ____. It’ll be fine,” he continues calmly. Nodding, you take in a deep breath, the lump in your throat relaxing a little.

“I just heard Namjoon tell his mother that we’re just friends… and I don’t know what to do anymore. I- I thought I’d be fine just being his friend, but after that kiss, and then Jihee-” you begin, however, Hoseok cuts you off with a yelp.

“Kiss?! What kiss?” he practically shrieks, his shrill voice causing you to wince. Though, despite the situation, you find yourself laughing.

“Ah- I forgot you didn’t know. When we were at Seoraksan, when Joon and I disappeared, we kissed. It wasn’t anything major but-” you begin.

“Nothing major?! Dude, you kissed the guy you’ve been in love with for years. That’s pretty fucking major. What happened? Why aren’t you together?” he quickly fires off, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Can we not do this now? It just happened and then I pulled away and apologised-” you try explaining.

“You apologised? Why would you do that?” Hoseok bursts out.

Sighing in annoyance, “Hoseok! That’s not the problem!” you seethe. Your voice breaks through the phone with a hiss, causing Hoseok to quieten down on the other side.

“Oh- yes. You’re right. But I will be asking for all the details later. Anyway, why did you call? What happened?” he questions once again.

“I just overheard Namjoon telling his mother we’re just friends… and I don’t know if I can be here anymore. I- it’s so hard. Pretending that I don’t want to be more and that I’m not in love with him. I just- I don’t want to be just friends anymore and it sucks,” you reply, your voice heavy with emotion.

“Well, why don’t you just tell him that? Like, I’m pretty sure Joon’s in love with you too, you know?” Hoseok says softly.

Unable to help yourself, you let out a snort. “That’s really rich, Hobi. What the fuck am I supposed to say? Hey, Namjoon! I’ve been in love with you for years now and I want to be more than friends? Even though I just heard him tell his mother-” you begin ranting.

However, you stop when you hear Namjoon's deep voice tear through the bedroom: “You what?”

Blood freezing, your entire body goes rigid. The moment his voice registers in your eardrums, you whip around, your eyes wide as you spot your best friend. “Namjoon,” you breathe out heavily. Despair floods through you, your ears burning as you feel your stomach sink.

“Hoseok, I’ll call you back… I have to go,” you quickly say before hanging up. Then, turning around, you hop off of the bed, “Namjoon, it’s not-” you begin, your mind running a mile a minute as you try to think of something to say. Would you even be able to say anything? To salvage your friendship with him? Or had you just unknowingly ruined it all?

“Did you mean it? Do you love me?” Namjoon asks. Repetitively, like a broken record, the words play over and over in his mind - filling him with a mix of confusion, elation and relief.

“I- Namjoon,” you try, but Namjoon simply shakes his head. In an instant, he crosses the room - until he’s right in front of you. You jerk at the sudden movement, your neck straining as you look up at him.

“Did you mean it? Please, ____, I need to know,” Namjoon exhales deeply. Left reeling by the sheer emotion in his voice, the desperation, the yearning, the tenderness - you can’t help but blink, unable to figure out what any of it means. He looks down at you intensely, his warm brown eyes leaving you captivated.

Breathing heavily, you bite your lip. Then, gathering every ounce of courage you have, you throw caution to the wind. He’d already heard you anyway. “Yes. I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” you confess - nothing but sincere earnestness present in your voice.

The minute the words leave your lips, Namjoon’s lips crash down onto yours. For a sliver of a moment, your eyes widen in shock, however, as quickly as it comes, it goes, and soon, your eyes are slipping shut.

Loosely, his hand moves to grip your neck, as you lift your chin higher - so you can press your lips harder into his - while your hands fist into his shirt. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his. Gasping at the motion, Namjoon uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. Indolently, his silky appendage swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it.

Electrified by his kiss, you moan into his mouth, your chin lifting higher as you press your lips harder against his. Mouths moving in tandem, you lose yourself into the intoxicating feel of his lips against yours. The soft petals of his mouth are soft, and as pillowy as you remember; albeit a little chapped, but you don’t mind so much. No - because the slight abrasion only adds to the feel of your kiss.

When you feel his tongue flick against yours, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. Further and further, you sink into Namjoon: his body pressed flat against yours, his saccharine taste coating your tastebuds, and his warm breath wafting over your face. You can’t help but find yourself drowning into him - his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.

Both of you lose track of time, your tongues gliding and sliding against each other, both of you consumed wholly by the other. Lost in your own selves, you feel nothing but each other - want to feel nothing but each other - and soon, the rest of the world fades into the background. There’s a soft ache in your lungs - your chest aching from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t care. No - right now, breathing is the last thing on your mind. In fact, the only thing you can think of is Namjoon, and the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours.

Nonetheless, eventually, your lungs begin to burn - the lack of oxygen searing through your chest. When the sweltering ache grows too much to be ignored, the two of you pull away - breathing harshly against each other. Your eyes stay closed as you gasp for air, both your breaths mingling together and circulating the air. Your lips are slightly swollen, and as you flick out your tongue to soothe them, you can’t help but whimper at the aftertaste of his essence on your mouth: the flavour only deepened by his breath fanning your face.

With your eyes closed, you still feel him linger around you - his calming presence washing over you and soothing your earlier hurt. Swallowing thickly, the two of you gradually open your eyes - coming face to face with each other. You’re still only a hairsbreadth away, his mouth ghosting against yours in tender brushes. Gaze meeting his, you search his eyes for something - anything - even just an inkling of the emotions you feel for him. And as usual, Namjoon doesn’t disappoint.

He smiles gently at you, the soft tip of his nose brushing yours as he repetitively presses affectionate kisses to your lips. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that?” he breathes out.

“W-What…? I thought- you told your mother-” you stammer out, confused by the entire situation.

“You’re an idiot you know,” Namjoon chuckles. Instantly, your face falls, ire rising in your chest. But before you can say anything, Namjoon shakes his head and presses his lips to yours, “I’m an idiot too. This entire time, I thought you didn’t feel the same - so I kept telling myself that we were just friends,” Namjoon admits. Then, he pauses, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be more either,” he confesses.

Your heart swells with happiness, a bright grin gracing your face. Then, you still. A sliver of confusion enters your eyes, and your features knit in the slightest, “but… that day in Seoraksan… you didn’t reciprocate,” you point out. Namjoon lets out a low, mirthless laugh.

“Is that why you pulled away and apologised?” he asks. When you nod, he just sighs and shakes his head, “I wasn’t expecting it ____, and by the time I realised what was happening, you were already pulling away and apologising. But- I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to pull you closer and kiss you harder. I wanted you that day, more than you’ll know,” he admits. Face crumpling with emotion, realisation dawns over you - the epiphany crashing over you like a pile of bricks.

Laughing, “we’re idiots, aren’t we? Have we been in love this entire time?” you ask, biting your lip to try and swallow down the smile. Namjoon matches your laugh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through your entire being. You close your eyes and let it wash over you, the sound bringing peace to your very soul.

“Yeah, we have. But- better late than never, right?” Namjoon chuckles.

Nodding eagerly, you let out the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, “I love you,” you confess once again.

Unhesitantly, “I love you too. So fucking much,” Namjoon responds. Then, the hand gripping your neck curls tighter, and he’s dipping his head down again.

Pressing his lips to yours again, you can’t help but sigh. It’s a little different than before - slow, with a lower undercurrent of urgency. Moaning into his kiss, you press yourself harder against him, your fingers carding into the hair as the base of his neck. Gripping the roots of his locks, you attempt to deepen the kiss, Namjoon lightly chuckling into your mouth when you whine in protest. Slowly, Namjoon pulls you backwards, stopping when the backs of his knees hit the bed.

Indolently, his large hands trace along your spine, his palms trailing along your covered flesh. Every single one of his touches sets your skin aflame with desire, heat settling deep within the pits of your abdomen. Taking a step closer, you moan into his mouth when you feel his hardening shaft against the soft of your belly - involuntarily grinding against it. Your movements cause him to let out a strained grunt, and breaking away from your kiss, he groans out your name.

Lust coursing through your bloodstream, you begin peppering kisses along the sharp outline of his jaw - your lips tracing the edge. Responsively, Namjoon’s hands drop to your hips, his hands splaying across your ass before pulling you flush against him. The two of you writhe together - your lower abdomen squirming against the outline of his growing bulge. Fists moving to curl around his shirt, your eyelids flutter as you feel him lightly palm at your ass - his fingers flexing and gripping the supple cheeks.

Your mouth parts open, and you let out a slew of breathy moans - heat pooling deep within your loins as you find yourself growing wetter. Dipping his head down, Namjoon buries his face into the crook of your neck - his pillowy lips tenderly roving over the skin. “J-Joon,” you stutteringly whimper, your eyes rolling back when he playfully nips your skin. Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot just below your ear before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips. In the wake of his kisses and light nips, you have no doubt he’s leaving hickeys over your flesh: mauve and rose marks blooming over your skin.

Sighing under him, “I want you,” you mumble quietly.

Namjoon runs his nose down the column of your throat before outlining the shape of your collarbone. When he reaches just below your chin - where your two clavicles meet, he bites down softly - making you whimper out his name. Lazily, he flicks out his tongue, the wet appendage gliding soothingly over your stinging flesh. Then, pulling away, “I want you too,” he mutters back. His cool breath fans against your flushed skin, the wet spot on your flesh evaporating, causing you to shudder.

“Then take me,” you groan back - nothing but want and earnestness in your voice.

The moment the words slip out, Namjoon’s fingers firmly dig into your ass, and then, he’s lifting you up. Yelping at the sudden movement, you quickly brace yourself onto his shoulders, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. You feel him manoeuvre the two of you onto the bed - until you’re both in the middle. Letting you go, he gently puts you onto the bed - and when your knees are firmly against the mattress he lets you go.

The two of you kneel on the bed; your hands tracing up his toned chest - feeling every defined muscle under his shirt - and towards his face. Cupping his chin, you pull him in for another kiss - desperately needing to feel his lips against yours once again. Automatically, Namjoon dips his head down, his mouth chasing yours as both your tongues begin gliding against each other.

Feverishly, your hands begin roaming over each other - hot lust clouding your minds as your kiss grows fervent with desire. Urgently, your hands roam over each other - Namjoon’s large palms pushing under the hem of your dress and over your bare thigh under he reaches the junction between your thighs. Boldly, he presses his hand to your panty-clad folds, and the sudden touch has you breaking your kiss with a surprised cry.

Soft whine spilling from your lip, you grind into his hand, your walls clenching as you feel him softly stroke your folds. The heat between your thighs is uncomfortable, and radiates so strongly that Namjoon can’t help but hiss - the knuckle of his thumb imperceptibly caressing your throbbing clit. Skin flashing with heat, you pull away from him briefly, and before he can even comprehend what’s happening, you’re gripping the hem of your dress and taking it off of you.

The moment your scantily covered body greets his eyes, Namjoon lets out a strained groan - his eyes roaming over your flesh. Your body is not new to him - no, in fact, he’s seen you in various states of undress at different points in your friendship. Nonetheless, it’s different now; your chest heaves as you gasp for air, and your heavily lidded eyes: gaze turbulent with lust. Intense eyes rove over your body, Namjoon practically drinking you in.

Growing wetter under his heavy stare, you feel your inner walls clench - your nipples twisting to hardness under the lace cups of your bra. “Namjoon,” you breathe out heavily. Wantonness thick in your voice, Namjoon quickly sheds off his own clothing - your mouth drying when you see the muscles of his biceps bugle as he removes his t-shirt. Cool air wafts over your heated skin and goosebumps prickle over your flesh, causing you to shudder. However, it only lasts a moment because Namjoon is swiftly pulling you flush against him,

Warm skin melding together, you cry out in pleasure when your hard nipples brush against his chest through the rough material of your bra. The friction sends spikes of lust straight to your core, a gush of wetness seeping through your pussy before soaking into the material of your underwear. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Namjoon runs his soft lips over your flesh; peppering kisses onto your skin. Meanwhile, his hands move back to grasp your ass - caressing and kneading the flesh in his large palms.

Your own shaky hands push between your bodies: trembling digits falling to the waistband of Namjoon’s jeans as you attempt to undo the button. Finally managing to pop the button, you desperately push the rough material of his trousers down his hips. When you struggle to remove them from you, Namjoon pushes you away. Flopping bonelessly onto the bed as you watch him rid himself of his trousers. When he’s left in nothing but his boxers, your mouth practically salivates.

As if magnetically drawn, your eyes instinctively fall to his hips, and you suck in a sharp breath at the sight. The defined ‘v’ of his hips leads to his boxer-clad shorts - his cock pressed to the side of his thigh by his tight underwear. Throat constricting, your eyes widen slightly at the shape of it - even through his underwear, he looks huge: the thick girth pressed against his toned left thigh. As you continue practically leering at him, Namjoon crawls over you. Instinctively, your thighs part, allowing him to crawl between them.

His hands brace on either side of you, the strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. Arms shooting up, you run them over his naked shoulders before carding into his hair as you tug him further over you. A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. Hands entwined into his hair, you watch the way the ambient light encases him in an amber halo, your eyes softening at the sight.

Straining your neck, you attach your lips to his once again, pouring all the love you feel for him into your kiss. Languidly, Namjoon’s tongue slides over your lips, the motion causing you to sigh. He’s sweet on your tongue; his honeyed essence bathing your tastebuds until he’s all you can feel. This time, your lips move slowly - mouths moving softly in tandem with each other as your tongues slide against the other leisurely.

Namjoon shifts above you - the movement causes his heated erection to brush against the thin, soaked material of your underwear. Reflexively, you buck into him - causing Namjoon to hiss. Shifting above you, Namjoon’s hands trail over your thighs. Then, hooking your legs around his waist, he’s suddenly flipping you over. Yelping in surprise at the abrupt movement, you fall into him; Namjoon’s arm loosely wrapping around your naked waist.

In your new position, he sits with his back against the headboard; your thighs straddling his hips. Namjoon’s warm hand indolently drifts down your waist, until it rests comfortably in the curve of your spine. Shifting into a more comfortable position, you sit on his lap - both of you groaning when your cores press together. Responsively, Namjoon bucks up into you, the action causing you to shudder.

“Namjoon,” you whine, your hips squirming over his.

“What do you want, baby?” Namjoon asks, his neck straining up to brush his lips against yours.

“I want you,” you reply easily. A smile curls on his lips, and playfully, he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. Sucking the soft flesh, he rakes his teeth over the swollen petal, making you sough into his mouth.

Simultaneously, Namjoon’s hands drop to your hips, and gripping them, he pushes your pelvis down - so that your wet, covered folds are flat against his cock. The movement causes you both to cry: you - at the intoxicating feel of his throbbing cock around your weeping sex, and Namjoon - at the wet heat pressing into his hardness.

“F-Fuck, Joon,” you mewl. Hips moving of their own accord, you begin grinding your heated cunt against his hard shaft. The skimpy material of your panties hinders nothing, and easily, you feel his cock - hot and pulsing, through the material of both your underwear. Namjoon’s hands trail to your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he begins moving you over him. Instinctively, the two of you fall into a synchronous rhythm, your hips writhing together in frantic movement as you lose yourself into your pleasure.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this wet?” Namjoon groans - the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air. Fingers digging harder into your ass, he gyrates harder into you, soft grunts and pants escaping his lips as he feels your wet heat against his cock. “Fuck- that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock - you feel so good,” Namjoon moans, his head falling back. The soft murmurs of his voice rip through the silent room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingling with yours.

Your hands fall to his shoulders, and using them as leverage, you begin pushing your hips harder into his. With every brush of his cock between your folds, you can’t help but grow wetter - your toes curling in pleasure. Namjoon watches you practically bounce on his cock - the top swells of your breast rippling with each movement. Unable to help himself, he moves his hands to unclasp your bra. When you feel the elasticated band loosen, the strap falling down your shoulder, you move your hands from his shoulders - divesting the brassier off of you.

Breasts free, and swaying with every one of your movements, Namjoon finds himself entranced by the sight. From his position under you, he leans forward and wraps his lips against the right peak, pulling the hardened bud into his mouth and gently sucking. The moment you feel his plush lips around your nipple, you cry out his name. Pussy clenching around nothing, you whimper at the ache between your thighs.

“Fuck, Namjoooon,” you whine - drawing out the syllables of his name. Indolently, his tongue swirls around your nipple - tracing its outline over and over again, while he simultaneously suckles at it. His hands are back on your ass - holding the plump flesh in his large hands while squeezing and spreading them apart.

Pleasure seeps into your veins, and you begin grinding more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slip from your lips, the friction of your sodden lace panties and his cotton boxers slowly driving you wild. You have no doubt that you’re dripping now - the material of his boxers soaked enough to leave damp trails of your wetness onto the fabric. Your stomach twists - the heat inside causing your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements.

Hands braced on his shoulders, you dig your fingernails into the thick muscle - Namjoon grunting at the slight pain. When he unexpectedly bites down on your nipple, rolling the peak between his teeth - your cunt clenches painfully and you sob out his name. “M-More, please. I-I need more,” you whimper. Hearing the desperation in your voice, Namjoon takes pity on your form.

Hand slipping down between your thighs, you feel him push your hips off of his cock. A whine of protest slips through your lips, your walls clenching as they ache for the feel of his cock - however, your displeasure only lasts a few moments. Pressing his fingers against your folds, Namjoon lazily begins stroking his fingers through your covered slit - causing you to whimper out his name.

“Fuck- you’ve soaked through your panties, baby. Do you want my cock this much?” Namjoon asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. It’s all you can do to nod eagerly, you hips pressing harder into his hand.

“J-Joonie- more,” you helplessly mewl, squirming into his fingers.

Namjoon chuckles from under you, but gives into you. Pushing the gusset of your underwear to the side, his fingers stroke through your naked folds, causing you to hiss and drop your head onto his shoulder. Tenderly, Namjoon traces the outline of your folds - completely in awe of how absolutely sodden they are. He’s barely even touched your entrance, yet thick, filmy strings of your wetness coat the pads of his digits.

“God- I’ve dreamt of what your pussy would feel like - but I never thought it’d be this good,” Namjoon admits - his thumb moving to stroke your hardened clit. The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causing you to buck into him, you cunt contracting around nothing.

Twisting your hand between your bodies, you push his boxers down all of a sudden. Abruptly, his cock springs out before the heavy length falls onto his lower abdomen. In an instant, your palm is stroking the thick length, your mouth watering as you admire his shaft. The velvet length is long, and incredibly girthy, and you have no doubt that he’s going to stretch you out deliciously. Experimentally, you wrap your fingers around before gently squeezing.

Namjoon rolls his eyes at your ministration - the action eliciting a short gasp from his lips as he bucks into your hand. Dropping his head to your chest, you feel him nuzzle the top swells of your breast, while he lightly presses tender kisses into your flesh. Between your thighs, his fingers rove further down your slit, until his digits are teasing your entrance. A low mewl falls from your lips, your hips writhing into his hand as you try to get him to push his fingers into you. God, you desperately need something to fill the ache.

“Joonie- want your fingers,” you murmur, not even bothering to hide the pout in your voice. Namjoon laughs lowly under you, and with an apologetic kiss to your sternum, his digits lightly push against the tight ring of your entrance. Fingernail circling your entrance - almost tauntingly - Namjoon relishes in the way it twitches for him: the tight rings clenching and unclenching involuntarily. Growing tired of his teasing motions, “Joonie, please,” you practically beg.

The ache between your thighs throbs with a vengeance, causing you to squeeze his cock. Hand stroking up to his tip, you take a moment to admire the bulbous mushroom tip. The head is sticky with precum, your thumb swiping over the slit, wetting the tip in his own translucent precum. Rhythmically, your hand begins pumping around the rest of his shaft - your fingers tightening around his girth intermittently.

“Sh-shit. Fuck, that feels good. God, your hand feels so fucking good,” Namjoon praises. He rewards your actions by deliberately pushing two fingers into you - your wetness allowing them to slide in with ease. Drawing sharp raspy breaths from you, Namjoon shallowly begins pumping them into you - never delving deeper than the first knuckle. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. Indolently, he pumps them - matching the pace of your hand stroking his cock.

Nuzzling into your chest, Namjoon breathes in your scent deeply, relishing in the comforting smell. It’s heavier this time - the smell of your arousal and sweat mixing in with your natural one. Yet, he doesn’t mind. Not when it smells wholly inebriating. “What do you want, baby?” Namjoon murmurs. His voice is low, dropping a couple of octaves, and the baritone sound thrums against your skin: causing goosebumps to flit over your arms.

Unhesitantly, “you,” you whisper back. Letting out an appreciative groan, Namjoon slides his fingers deeper into you. With a keening whine, you begin pumping his length harder - groaning in pleasure when his fingers inside you also pick up the pace.

“You’re so fucking - shit - tight. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock,” Namjoon breathily whispers. His words cause you to clench involuntarily - your hand tightening around his shaft. God, you don’t think you can wait any longer. You need to feel him inside you. Right now. Something you express to Namjoon.

“Want your cock- Joonie, please,” you implore, pressing your lips harshly against his.

Drawing away, “fuck, okay. Let’s get these off,” Namjoon says as hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Shuffling away from him for a moment - the both of you quickly remove your last articles of clothing: leaving you completely naked.

With not a moment to spare, Namjoon wraps his hands around your thighs, before pulling you back onto his lap. Hastily, you throw your leg over his hip, straddling him once again. One hand on your ass, and other gripping his shaft, Namjoon strokes the velvet head of his cock through your folds: the tip dragging over your clit before catching on your entrance. You hiss at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you feel it press against your entrance.

When he’s firmly positioned at your dripping hole, you slowly begin lowering yourself onto him. The moment his head breaches your walls, however, you let out a deep, guttural groan. Completely doused in your wetness, his cock should slide easily into you - however, his girth is so thick that you can’t help but mewl in pain. Squirming over him, your breath turns laboured as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock - the ache of the stretch burning your walls, the pain mingling with pleasure.

“Fucking hell- how are you this- fuck- big?” you keen, your eyes screwing shut. Namjoon leans forward - the movement causing him to sink another inch into you and making you gasp. Dropping his head to your neck, he peppers comforting kisses into your skin while his hand soothingly rubs over your lower back.

Nonetheless, there’s pleasure mixed in the pain and you continue lowering yourself onto his cock. Inch by inch, you take him into you - his cock slowly opening up your walls around his unrelenting length. With every second that passes, you feel his cock drag deliberately against your inner walls - your cunt clenching rhythmically - and forcing you to feel every ridge and vein of his thick girth. Eventually, you sink completely down - your hips pressed against his - and his cockhead kissing the soft walls of your cervix.

There’s an intense pressure deep within your stomach - Namjoon’s cock throbbing erratically inside you. The feel of him nestled so deep within you has you sighing in pleasure. There’s still a dull ache - from how wide he stretches you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits - but pleasure soon replaces the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjust to Namjoon’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cry out in pleasure.

“God, your pussy is so fucking tight - and wet - shit,” Namjoon slurs - euphoric elation dripping in his words. Breath laboured, you begin lifting yourself over his cock, your back arching - pushing your chest into you - as you ride his tremendous length. With every flex of your thighs, you can’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only is Namjoon’s cock thick, but he’s incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: allowing his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.

Large hands falling to your hips, Namjoon grips them tightly as he helps you move on top of him. Every movement has hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curling in elation while your stomach twists and knots violently. The rapturous bliss of your impending orgasm calling to you, you begin bouncing your ass over him. Namjoon groans at the feeling, and unable to help himself, one of his hand moves to splay across the curve of your back - pulling you flush into his chest.

Skin melding together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lose yourself into the feel of Namjoon. Abruptly, your arms shoot out and you wrap them around his chest, your fingernails digging into his flesh as you hold him close to you. With his cock buried deep into you, and his head buried in the crook of your neck - Namjoon is all you can feel. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, your nose burrowing into the side of his head as you breathe in his calming scent deeply.

From under you, Namjoon fucks his cock upward - his thrusts pushing him deeper into you. The additional sensation causes you to whimper, your ass twitching as sheer, unadulterated bliss begins flitting through your bloodstream. You’re close - so close you can practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth is completely dry from gasping his name over and over again.

Feeling your walls begin to pulsate erratically - the rhythm of their contracting falling out of sync - Namjoon knows you’re close. All of a sudden, he pulls you even closer to him - a feat you had considered wholly impossible, considering you’re clinging to each other - and then, he’s flipping you over. Squealing in surprise, you feel your body bounce on the bed, before Namjoon falls over you.

The entire time he moves your bodies, his cock stays buried deep inside your pussy - your walls involuntarily clenching around his shaft. In your new position, Namjoon’s entire weight is braced on one hand beside you, his other hand resting on your back - under your body - as he pulls your chest into his. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. With your new positioning, every time Namjoon thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your clit: making you cry out his name in pleasure.

“J-J-Joon, I-I-I’m c-close,” you stutter out, your back arching as you push your hips into his.

Nodding above you, Namjoon gasps and pants for air. “Fuck baby, me too,” he replies. Legs shooting out, you wrap them around his hips, and heels digging into the fleshy globes of Namjoon’s ass, you pull him deeper into you.

Slowly, yet fervently, the two of your rock into each other - chasing your own highs. You cling desperately to him, your arms still holding onto his shoulders as you writhe together. Then, needing to feel his lips on yours, you strain your neck and press your mouth to his. Instantly, his mouth opens, and your tongues begin lashing against each other leisurely - Namjoon’s intoxicating essence coating your tastebuds.

One of his hands twist between your body before you feel him stroke your clit. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips: your breaths heavily intermingling together. “Cum for me, baby,” Namjoon urges. His command, paired with the way his fingers dance across your clit, and how his cock drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure.

Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry of euphoria. Head lolling back, your back arches violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under Namjoon. Rapturous ecstasy ricochets through your entire body, your muscles trembling violently as you cum around his cock. Feeling your pussy tighten in a vice-like grip, your inner walls gushing with wetness as you milk his shaft, Namjoon lets out a deep roar. His own head falls onto your chest, and with a few more thrusts, he buries his cock as deep inside you as he can before he cums.

Through the haze of your pleasure, you feel Namjoon’s cock swell inside you. All of a sudden, his cock begins throbbing - and then you feel it. Rope after rope of thick cum shoots inside you, his seed filling up your inner walls and painting them white. His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Once he’s done, you feel him soften inside you - and slowly, Namjoon pulls out.

You whine in protest, your walls a little raw from his thick girth - and when he retreats completely, you can’t help but jerk: his head popping out of you. Instantly, his cum begins leaking out, causing you to mewl in pleasure - your entrance throbbing and only forcing more of his cum out. Namjoon sits back on his heels, both your chests heaving as you attempt to catch your breath.

From his position, his eyes drop to your pussy - a low groan of appreciation resounding from deep within his throat. Your legs are spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he’s more focused on how his cum leaks out of you, his seed dripping down your ass. Chest swelling with pride, he can’t help but let out a lazy smile.

Leaning forward, he presses one hand onto your inner thigh, while the other swipes two fingers between your slit, gathering up his cum, and pushing it back into you. You wince at the sensation, a low groan slipping from your throat at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Namjoon mumbles, even as he continues pushing his fingers inside you.

“Later, I’m tired,” you murmur back whinily. When the ache of oversensitivity gets too much, you bat Namjoon’s hand away before closing your legs. With a low laugh, Namjoon presses an apologetic kiss to your knee.

Then, he flops down next to you. Feeling your best friend settle next to you, you automatically shift in bed - turning and curling into his body. Instinctively, Namjoon’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer into him. Hazily, your head still swimming in its post-orgasmic bliss, you feel Namjoon push your hair out of your face. You smile softly at the tender gesture, your smile widening when you feel him brush his lips against your temple affectionately.

“I love you,” Namjoon whispers.

Shuffling closer into him, you press your naked body into his. Easily, your legs tangle together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you.

Sleep already fogging your mind, “I love you too,” you mumble back. Then, after a short pause, “we’re together right…?” you murmur. Namjoon laughs at the slight slur to your voice.

Lazily, he picks up your hand, and entwining your fingers together, he brings them to his lips. Pressing his lips to each of your knuckles in a soft kiss, he nods, “we’re together, baby,” he replies. Sighing in pleasure, you nod happily before snuggling into him. Breathing in his scent, you let the mix of fabric softener, lotion and sweat waft over you - the cacophony of fragrances slowly lulling you to sleep.

Hours later, you and Namjoon wake up from your nap - just in time for dinner. With little giggles, you and Namjoon begin cleaning yourselves up - your face scrunching when you wipe the dried up cum between your legs with the damp washcloth Namjoon had given you. Walking over to your suitcase, you pull out a change of underwear, before slipping on your dress from earlier; Namjoon’s face falling when your body is hidden from his view.

“Why are you pouting?” you ask, throwing your hair into a ponytail as you turn around to face him.

“I miss looking at you, already,” Namjoon replies, an exaggerated pout on his face. Rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over to him and press a kiss to his lower jaw.

Then wrapping your arms around his neck, “Well, I miss looking at you too… but, we have all the time later tonight,” you say. Then, you grow quiet. Sensing the nervousness exuding from your being, Namjoon gently places his hands on your hips, before lightly caressing them in comfort. “And… for the rest of our lives,” you continue, the words leaving you in a single breath. There’s uncertainty in your eyes, because really, neither of you had spoken about what you are - you’d just fallen into bed after your confession.

Gaze softening, Namjoon drops his lips to your forehead. “For the rest of our lives,” he repeats - confident resolve heavy in his tone. His words cause a smile to grace your face. Beaming up at him, you draw onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then, pulling away, you take one of his hands into yours, and entwining your fingers together, you tug at him, “alright, come on. We need to go down for dinner before your parents come looking for us,” you say.

Namjoon nods, and the two of you slip out of your bedroom and back downstairs. With each passing moment, you feel dread pool heavily into your stomach. Nervousness grips your entire being, and desperately, you cling tighter to Namjoon - soaking in all the comfort your boyfriend - boyfriend! - offers you. Finally, the two of you step into the kitchen. Immediately, both of Namjoon’s parents turn to him - however, before they can greet you, they halt.

Instantly, their gaze drops to your entwined hands. Time moves past slowly - the seconds passing excruciatingly. The longer they’re silent, the more nervous you grow. Then, after what feels like aeons, Namjoon’s parents both smile.

Eyes twinkling with mirth, “well… finally,” Namjoon’s mother says, a knowing smile on her face.

a/n: thank you i love my man

⇥ Kofi | Masterlist

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ignisnocturnalia · 3 years

Note

Ushdhsjdhei those Nokris hcs had me SWEATING they were so good! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests currently, but if you are, could we have some for Oryx please? At any rate, I hope you have a lovely day! 🥰

Oryx was on my personal list next, so this request lines up PERFECTLY 😏 I hope you've been having good days as well, my friend 😎

Oryx x Reader

Relationship

As the Taken King, congratulations, you are now the Taken Queen and most likely an ✨outlaw✨ to the city

Things might get a little dicey, since before you came along he viewed “loving” as killing the object of his affections repeatedly… (I have the anthologies, bro has killed his siblings like 3 times not even halfway through the book while gushing about how much he cares about them)

Takes you to the different planets he’s conquered, detailing their indiginous species before he had them annihilated whenever you ask about them (including war moons)

Tries to help you create your own throne world, and if you can’t or don’t want to, he shares his with you

Just the same as him, Hive kneel to you, and though unnecessary you receive a part of the upward stream of power acquired through their Sword Logic per Oryx’s command

Even though you might not understand the culture very well, your words will still carry hefty weight; be mindful of what you say, it could literally get a solar system erased

It’s highly unlikely, but on the rare occasion that you’d have a run in with one of his siblings he’s ready to challenge their doubts about you being his mate

Since you don’t use the power given to you and Oryx doesn’t restrict what you use it on, the fastest way for you to befriend his soldiers is by dangling favors just within reach; the Thralls act like cats to you in the absence of the King, and Wizards flock to you so you can see their accomplishments and be impressed by their work enough to give them a boost in their hierarchical climb

Oryx has, in fact, made a throne beside his for you and frequently invites you to help him study the Darkness; he thinks your cluelessness of the universe is cute, but he is determined to get you to understand what he means when he speaks of “The Final Shape”

You have your own fleet, no questions asked. If you’re going to be his Queen, he wants you to grow your influence across space so your name becomes known and feared as equally as his is

NSFW 👁👄👁

I have a supreme feeling, that as the “King of Shapes”, Oryx can totally shift between a female morph and a male morph especially since he used to be female

Pays close attention to what makes you squirm, can and will make you come through touching alone

Prefers being dominant, but will give you opportunities to feel like you’re in control

Don’t care how tall you are, size difference will exist and he digs it in the sack, bonus if he can see his outline on the skin of your stomach

His wings twitch and shudder a lot, and they’re quite sensitive to light touches, so if you can reach them d o i t

He is very rough, prepare to lose your legs for ~1 week. If he’s feeling generous for whatever reason he will be a little more gentle, but it’s almost unnoticeable

Likes it when you try to scratch his chitin, and will be very vocal if you can actually cause any amount of damage

He is a big fan of overstimulation, as well as teasing, so you’re either going to be over the moon and unable to speak or begging for him to do something

A human’s flexibility has him totally enraptured, and every chance he gets he will put you into the most questionable, and sometimes uncomfortable, positions just to see the way your body will bend

You merked basically all of his children and annihilated quite a few of his high ranking soldiers; if that isn’t a testament to your strength and worthiness, what is? He thinks it’s extremely arousing, and biology be damned he will figure out a way to breed you so he can have his strongest heirs yet

Fluff

You both make certain auras with your powers, so if you’re ever at different places on his Dreadnaught you send waves of Light and Dark to each other; normal Hive are jarred by the Light you send out until they realize it’s just you and not a massive assault from Earth’s Guardians

When you two sit together, he makes a point of allowing you to rest your hand on top of his or interlock your fingers

Oryx leans over a lot whenever you want to give him a smooch, like damn, you wanna give him back problems you tiny ass person?

While he definitely isn’t going to understand and will think it’s childish, he does let you decorate his horns occasionally (flowers, precious metals, etc)

Once you get used to it, he has you go with him to check on planets being conquered. Nothing boosts incentive better than having your King and Queen watching your progress! Even if the work is insufficient for his tastes, you can usually dampen punishments; some Hive regard it as human softness, but countless others will grovel at your feet in gratefulness later

You two spend freetime with sword dueling- if you don’t know how to properly fight, he’s more than eager to teach you

He postpones his invasions in the Sol system in regards to your feelings on the subject, but he always has an excuse ready to go; however, give him an inch and he will go a mile. If he’s under the impression that you don’t care enough or prioritize him over your race, he will push his work full force

While he prefers not to, he’ll basically never let you sleep or nap with him; he doesn’t need or want sleep in the same way that you do, so he thinks it’s a waste of time, and he only likes it because of your warmth

Should you try to dip into Hive magic, he will watch your growth with tremendous pride and help where he can, even sending in Wizards with similar talents to help cultivate your skills

Enjoys holding your shoulders and pressing your body close to his in more private moments because it makes him feel big even though you could totally cripple him in a 1v1

#relationship headcanon #destiny 2 #oryx the taken king #oryx x reader

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