#Chronicles of an Abnormal Person

[trashrattt]

I totally think Code lyoko should have it's talked about reboot, mostly because

- when it came to Carthage, the most canon explanation from Franz himself, the explanation only lasts about 1 minute and 25 seconds, and nothing else comes of it

Sure, we knew why Xana was created, but like, Franz never really said Xana stopped it as it was his main intended purpose, why Xana was made to begin with, so like, that's a real issue in canon consitering Franz wanted to stop the project but never got to consitering Xana gained autonomy and all

And like, Carthage was kind of hinted at to be a bad thing too, you'd think that could be a real issue in universe

- spent 3 whole seasons building on this one character only not to do much with it at all and give him a really bad rep in universe afterwards

Okay, you know me, I like William an abnormal amount, but with all things considered, he wasn't a character to begin with, neither was a plot device imo

Yeah, he absolutely has no personality, argue with the wall if you need to

So like, yeah, he got posessed, but then what? Sure he was used to try to throw Aelita into the Digital sea, but like, tarantulas could do the same thing with those long ass arms, they could just use them as bats

And you've literally seen megatanks push her closer to the digital sea when she used a energy field as a sheild of sorts, so really, what was the point of him to begin with of other monsters could do the same thing no problem

And after a whole season of dawdling around, the writers rushed the whole "set him free" arc after ignoring it for basically the whole season, like there wasn't any episodes besides cold sweat where the characters actively try to break him free, you'd think there would be a little more give from the characters considering how #depressed Yumi was

(and yes, I know the show says, "I made ___ program" but let us see the FAILURE!!!!)

Even then, when he came back, the characters all decide "fuck this, you ain't shit to me" and dropkick him back to his life without any support, like dude lost months of his life without something he either remembers or blanked out on

- character writing in season four

Okay, this isn't really a reason why, it's more of saying "Why did you make your characters worse, we deserve better"

Because Odd in season four just became an absolutely terrible person, man

Constantly throwing his freinds under the bus just for some scheme he pulled or literally abusing the fact that he knows about Lyoko as a point to say to the others "This is why we're friends!!!1!@1!!" Even though at this point their friendship is downright terrible, like to the point where they just want to get Lyoko dealed with so they can fall apart like a poorly put together cup with scotch taped all over it

Imo nobody seemed to like each other as opposed to season 1 and 2 where they talked casually, like they had an actual friendship going on, not like "so, what's new on Lyoko, I want this shit dealt with today..." they were actual friends who did stuff together and had fun, I miss that :<

Anyways that was a more personal take, but season 4 just leaves a bad taste in my mouth with that rushed ending of theirs

Uhm oops, this was a long rant of what I dislike about the show, I was supposed to make this post simply to tell you guys what I'd propose for a continuation

Here's what I'd do:

Consitering Carthage was an abandoned idea from the depths of season 2, we build on that again

I'm imagining a non-terribly written Evo mixed with the chronicles, like bitch I actually love the idea of Ulrichs dad being tied in with Carthage simply because like, it would make so much sense (absolutely don't pull a chronicles though making EVREYONES mothers under the sun being tied in, that was stupid)

I'm also thinking, the antagonist we have is still a program, but it isn't Xana like in main series

Sure, they're simular, but it's a remnant from Carthage that has the same ideas as Xana, but worse (this is all first draft, but that's like the main idea that could work)

Also, give Will and actual personality this time, not just this "I'm soooooo sad" attitude that any traumatized character has, he has the potential to be COMPLEX!!!!

Kids cartoons nowadays are getting complex so don't say "Oh no they can't, it's a kids cartoon"

Anyways I'm hoping they build off of Carthage because that would be a PERFECT continuation aauaghh

Enjoy (?) My unexpected rant, idk

[cryoverlife]

So I made a brief post talking about Ruby and Julius Kane being bad parents and uh... here's the essay.

(quick side rant, omg this post is going to be long)

honestly I really should make a series about it, because after really thinking about it, the Kane Siblings have a severe lack of any good parental care in their life. This isn't exactly abnormal in the Riordanverse, but compared to the other series, which have minimal adult characters (that aren’t dead or immortal), the Kane Chronicles have many adult characters and many of the important ones were there to take care of Sadie and Carter.

Yeah that didn't work out.

I mean there's a lot of facets to the Kane siblings relationships with parental figures. From the... interesting and like definitely racist environment Sadie had to deal with while living with her grandparents to Carter's mental state and identity(?) while living with his dad. there is so much I could over analysis, and I'm not a fan of these books to sit around and reread all day so uh, I'm gonna over analysis all of it.

Eventually, but this post will be long even talking about the more aspect I want to talk about with out dragging the rest of the things I find interesting into it soooo.

When first reading the Kane Chronicles, Ruby and Julius actually seem like good parents. they certainly made mistakes but they do love their kids. and even now, I don't doubt they love their kids. It's just an incredibly interesting scenario where the parents, no matter how much they love their kids, are capable of putting the well being of the world first.

And that's the crux of the issue. Ruby and Julius are capable of being excellent parents, but in the situation they were in, they decide it was either the world or Carter and Sadie and they didn't hesitate to choose the world.

In fact, I'm pretty sure Bast said something very similar to this.

Anyway, I'm gonna start with Ruby and Julius's deaths. Personally, I think saying they abandoned Carter and Sadie isn't actually wrong here. I'm definitely not saying someone dying is abandoning the people they love, but it's the way Julius and Ruby both die and how both situations are almost planned.

Now there's not a lot of cannon conformation about Ruby's death, but I, personally, inferenced that Ruby and Julius predicted that it was a very likely scenario that freeing Bast would mean Ruby's death. Or at the very least they definitely knew the dangers of it.

Unlike Julius, Ruby didn't choose to die, but she did put herself in a situation where it was likely. Did she do it with the best intentions? sure. But I find the whole "we had no other choice" thing dumb. Diviner doesn't seem like an incredibly reliable source of information, and unlike the greek pantheon I'm not aware of any being in Egyptian Mythology that specifically controls fate (feel free to prove me wrong here). The idea that they couldn't have done anything else, is kind of absurd.

I mean they convinced Iskander that banning gods was wrong so like? maybe they should have leaned more into that angle.

Also like, they freed Bast, which good for Bast, but doing that sped up the process that allowed Apophis to get free. Ruby had a couple of visions and the two of them spent the rest of they're lives deciding to not just prevent the apocalypse, but to put that burden on their children's shoulders.

Personally, I think Ruby's death was while unfortunate not a surprise to either of them, considering she didn't really seem to try to survive, denying both Isis's and Bast's help. Maybe she wouldn't have been able to handle the power, but like, she could have tried.

Now the bigger Issue I have is Julius's death, cause Ruby's is mostly speculation on my part, I could be wrong, but uh, Julius planned his death. He brought to kids into what was going to be an incredibly dangerous situation. And yes, he did ask them to stay out of the room, but the idea that he used them to help him accomplish this which would leave them without their one living parent while also implicating them of any potential crimes the mortals might decide had happened (which is canon) is horrible.

Arguably, We have no idea weather or not Julius planned on releasing Set, and having Carter and Sadie host Horus and Isis (though those amulet are suspicious). Personally I believe that he had some idea what was going to happen, he's not stupid, but similarly to Ruby's death he decide to take that chance anyway.

Was it for the good of the world? sure. Was it for the good of Sadie and Carter? no, absolutely not.

Even if the situation hadn't thrown Sadie and Carter head first into a deadly quest it would've have severely traumatized them. They could feel guilt for helping their dad commit a crime (especially if they had no idea what was going on) or get himself killed. It doesn't help that Sadie already had abandonment issues due to him.

But more importantly, (not to say his relationship with Sadie isn't important, but his death has a far larger impact on Carter), he left Carter with no one. Besides for maybe Amos, but not only are the two of them estranged but I can't really think that Julius would've thought Amos would take Carter in. And honestly living with the Uncle you barely remember isn't much better than living with stranger, there no one for Carter to go to.

Julius was Carter's single guardian and his only form of stability and familiarity for six years. Do I think he was a good support system of Carter during those six year? not really, but the fact that Julius was willing to throw Carter to the wolves (the government and the foster system) isn't a good sign.

so yeah, the fact that both Julius and Ruby basically went willingly and knowingly to their deaths is kind of abandoning their kids.

I wish I could say (that's a bad way to phrase this) that Julius had planned the quest to defeat Set but I kinda think that would be speculating a bit to much.

Luckily, it's basically canon that they expected Sadie and Carter to save the world so anything I might say about that isn't at all a stretch.

My biggest problem with them though is that neither of them even mentioned the idea of being magicians to Carter or Sadie. And it;'s not because they're to young, because many magicians learn what they are at a very young age.

It could've been to protect them from The House of Life, but considering how violent and uncontrolled they're magic can get with zero knowledge of it it's seems weird that they wouldn't try to teach them how to control it.

(also It was denying Carter and Sadie a large amount of knowledge about their family and even culture to some extent)

Both of the parents fully understood that Sadie and Carter would have to save the world, and yet despite that both of them died without even hinting at Sadie and Carter's abilities.

And there's a big difference between this and what many of the better parents in the Riordanverse did by trying to avoid telling their kids about their heritage. People like Sally and Natalie Chase did it with the intention of trying to protect their kids as long as possible. Sure, it didn't help but they either weren't given a chance to fully explain when the kids were old enough or tried to but it came a bit late (for reasons they couldn't control), Ruby and Julius fully understood that Carter and Sadie would be put in a lot of danger and didn't even inform them of that the gods existed.

Yeah technically most of the Riordanverse parents did that, but there is a big difference in the lives of demigods vs magicians. Telling a demigod about the greek god would also mean having to explain the fact that they being hunted down by monster, which is not something you should tell your seven year old, especially if the real danger is going to come a bit later. Magicians don't actually have a lot of danger associated with them, Carter and Sadie are sort of an exception to that. Like sure, don't tell them about the saving the world part until they're older (Not that Julius even tried) but like tell them about the magic part, my goodness.

Sadie and Carter learned all of this on a really dangerous quest, while trying to save their dad who had planned his death, and in the end they were forced to make a decision between their dad and the world. A decision they didn't really get to make because of the situation and Julius's plan had already made it for them.

Sadie and Carter were shoved into a dangerous world with arguably less help than any other Riordanverse character (excluding the MC series, cause they all died to find out about Norse gods). Like at least the demigods had a camp to go to, Carter and Sadie had a world wide society on their heels, a possessed uncle, a clay person having an identity crisis (which wasn't even over the fact she wasn't real) and a single cat goddess who was forced to ditch like half-way through the book.

Julius legit went "Hey sorry I planned on dying, why don't you almost die to try and save me even though it's useless and than find out me and your mother planned out the worst way to give you the burden of saving the world along with a bunch of responsibilities you don't want *cough* Carter wanting nothing to do with being in charge *cough*.”

I could complain that they also encouraged and helped Sadie and Carter do dangerous stuff (give them a dangerous criminal while knowing he would escape) but unfortunately that’s a common thing parents in fantasy books do.

Like, if they’re kid is already in a dangerous situation and they can’t get them out of it or the kid has to much of a guilt/ hero complex, then better they try to help their kid as much as possible to try to protect them, then forbid them from doing anything which will lead to the kid trying to do everything themselves and getting into more danger.

course the reason Carter and Sadie are in so much danger is because of their parents.

actually Ruby and Julius have a lot of similarities with the gods when it comes to parenting. Cause problems, help your kid a minimal amount after forcing them to fix the problems you caused for you.

Are Julius and Ruby bad people? No. In the end they’re doing what they think is best for the world, which no one can really blame them for that.

they simply faced the love one vs world challenge and had to choose the world.

The thing is being a bad or good person doesn’t usually have anything to do with being by a good or bad parent.

a bad person is capable of being a good parent and a good person is capable of being a bad one.

Trying to save the world does make Ruby and Julius good people, but at the expense of their kids mental, emotional, and physical health. And no matter what the reason, anyone who willingly chooses to put their kids in that type of situation, isn’t a good parent.

anyway, that was really long, so any of you that actually read that entire thing, thx for reading my over analysis.

[moonrosevalley]

Chronicles of Roses Devlog 2: Design Notes Lilith

Hello!

This is Li : ).

This devlog is about Lilith, the secondary character of the narrative & lover of Ronya - a witch & holy disciple who is missing when Ronya comes home after a long mission, prompting a new journey to find her and discover the city’s sacrificial plot. For ease of credibility, all portraits and art of Lilith in this post is by Li.

This city is set in a world where witchcraft is looked upon as a great sin, and witch heritage (largely passed down by blood) is inherently seen as lesser or vile by the cityfolk and non-witches. Lilith’s features mark her as a witch clearly - her white eyes & hair are abnormal, and she easily becomes a target for persecution under the public eye.

Despite her blasphemous heritage, she was taken in by the Holy Prophet for unknown reasons, and has been raised as a dear daughter to her. Her markings & hair define her as a witch from the coven of life & nature, although her exact origins are largely unknown.

The events of the narrative largely exclude Lilith’s presence, as she is the passive hidden character, missing & hidden away from Ronya, but she is not written or designed to be a passive character. She is a scholar in her own right, & does not shy away from the pursuit of knowledge.

She’s been designed as a character who is not ashamed or afraid of her defining features - her hair is well taken care of, and she wears a distinct purple & gold palette of clothes, compared to the city’s concepted silvery blue tones. This contrast of gold & silver in particular is a strong foundation for the difference in visual language between the persecuted witches & ‘the holy’, as we currently call them, and presents a thematic switch from the usual modern association of silver, albedo, and the moon (although this will be touched on later) with femininity/magic.

Her name is taken directly from the daemon Lilith, who is commonly considered the first female demon, in particular for her refusal to obey. Lilith is written as a largely quiet and gentle character, but her quiet visual and scholarly defiance is intended to be a parallel to the daemon Lilith’s demonisation. Owls also tend to have an association with Lilith and the devil/evil in general - the owl is an early concept in Lilith’s development, but her eyes and hair already give off an owl-like appearance.

The iterations of her clothes in current concepts are largely dresses, cloaks, and belts/bags - she’s a scholar and an apothecary, unlike Ronya, and requires no armour. This is where the obligatory Dark Souls mention goes:

Some of her designs take from the witch of Izalith clothes in Dark Souls I. The obvious direct naming of them as witches, and the fact that they are a mostly all female faction are big influences for this reference. But the witches of Izalith can also be read as an interpretation of the medieval & gothic interpretation of the female body & female sexuality.

T B Skyen has a wonderful video on the boss design of Chaos Witch Quelaag in particular, where they take a similar reading on Quelaag’s design in the same game. She is largely considered a Dragon Pass easter egg from Miyazaki for many fans, but there is merit in reading her narrative existence and her obviously seductive visual design/cutscene as a commentary on the ‘eviling’ of desirable women - this is similar to a load of modern analyses of historical witch hunts, and why they primarily targeted women.

The narrative we are making doesn’t necessarily delve into sexism, whether historical or contemporary, but the use of witches and witchcraft in any story cannot exist without this context - for us, understanding the witch hunts of the medieval and gothic ages is fundamental to the construction of this entire fictional world.

Lilith is a personal favourite of mine - I am a massive Souls fan (Elden Ring in particular), and a large part of my love for those games is the delicate design of creatures and characters that are strong or otherwise beholders of a new age.

There's a running joke in the Souls community that there's a bizarre number of characters that appear barefoot in Miyazaki’s games. It's a really funny joke, but I think the reason for a visual choice like that is very deliberate.

We as humans have not chosen to be barefoot for thousands of years, and a lot of us largely cringe at the idea of our bare feet touching pavement, or even natural rock/soil - the very fact that people online have actually noticed the number of characters with no shoes, as opposed to the number of characters with long hair for example, is I think an easy example of our reaction to that kind of physical vulnerability.

Divine and immortal characters in Miyazaki’s games often have their feet visible & unprotected, and I think it very clearly separates them visually from the mortal and human. They are a deliberate show of mortal vulnerability, and an indication that human vulnerability is beneath their weaknesses by a long shot. It can either mean that they are beyond a lot of the physical weaknesses of humans, or that they are a particularly vulnerable character.

Lilith’s feet are not bare at this point in time in our concepts, and will by no means show up anywhere, but the approach of visual delicacy and vulnerability is something that I value a lot with her. The appearance of unprotected limbs in Fromsoftware games is just a very funny and (I think) very poignant example of what that sort of design approach looks like.

Ultimately, I love Lilith’s initial design, and her story as a determined quiet scholar - I have always loved the quiet important characters in stories, and working on her development is a joy.

This devlog was posted a couple days late - apologies! The next one will be about the Ursula, the Holy Prophet of this fictional city, and her connection to these two characters so far.

[maffickingcowplants]

Day 2 of 7, Fall 2004

TOP SECRET

INVESTIGATING AGENT: SILHOUETTE

AGENCY: ACUMEN CONSULTING

REPORT NUMBER: SV-001

SUBJECT: Investigation Report - Strange Phenomena in StrangerVille

The purpose of this report is to document the peculiar occurrences and unusual behavior observed in the town of StrangerVille. The initial assessment reveals a connection between reports of strange fruit and the alarming changes in the behavior of locals. I have established an office complex, this will serve as the headquarters for this investigation. As of the writing of this report, my observations indicate the presence of something deeply concerning and potentially dangerous lurking beneath the surface of this town. Several witnesses have mentioned encountering individuals exhibiting abnormal behavior, including twisted limbs, unnaturally wide smiles, and cryptic conversations about a figure referred to as "The Mother." This "possession" appears to be a key element in the strange happenings within StrangerVille.

BACKGROUND:

StrangerVille has come under our radar due to multiple reports of bizarre plant bearing remarkable fruit and an increasing number of persons, across all socio-economic backgrounds, exhibiting abnormal behaviors. An article was published in the SimCity Chronicles, which reports upon some of the strange behavior of locals. It was this news article that drew my attention the the town, and upon my first initial contact this agent's concern was great. Local rumors have circulated, linking these occurrences to "the Mother" and its potential influence over the town. It is imperative that we uncover the truth behind these phenomena and assess the potential threat they pose to national security.

INITIAL FINDINGS:

Upon my arrival in StrangerVille, I quickly established a network of contacts within the community, discreetly gathering information and monitoring the situation. Reports of Sims displaying strange behavior align with the presence of the peculiar fruit, which appears to be a catalyst for the possession-like state experienced by affected individuals.

The office complex maintained by Acumen Consulting serves as the perfect cover for our investigative activities. The seemingly ordinary façade conceals our advanced technology and training facilities, allowing for covert operations and analysis of the situation at hand. Our underground headquarters house a team of highly skilled agents and scientists dedicated to unraveling the mysteries of StrangerVille.

Witness accounts and my personal observations indicate that the affected Sims, when possessed, exhibit heightened communication abilities with "the Mother". It is unclear at this stage whether the influence is intentional or if it is a byproduct of something else. Further investigation is necessary to determine the nature of this connection.

Exposure to the spore clouds results in a temporary state of possession and an overwhelming compulsion to spread the infection further. It is imperative to investigate the source and nature of these spore clouds to uncover their connection to the enigmatic forces at play.

Through discreet inquiries and careful surveillance, I have discovered the existence of an underground laboratory hidden deep within StrangerVille. This secretive facility is believed to be the epicenter of the mysterious occurrences in the town. Access to the laboratory is tightly controlled, hinting at a clandestine operation that requires further scrutiny. I intend to infiltrate the facility covertly and gather more evidence regarding its activities.

CONCLUSION:

Based on my initial investigations, it is clear that StrangerVille is harboring something far more than meets the eye. The peculiar behavior of possessed individuals, the presence of toxic spore clouds, and the secretive underground laboratory all point towards a hidden agenda that poses a potential threat to national security.

I request immediate authorization to continue my undercover operations in StrangerVille, delving deeper into the enigma surrounding "The Mother" and the strange occurrences plaguing this seemingly ordinary town. Further investigation is crucial to understanding the full scope and implications of this case.

Additionally, I will expand my network of contacts within StrangerVille, focusing on key individuals who may possess valuable information or have experienced direct encounters with "the Mother". Gathering firsthand accounts and studying the patterns of possession will be crucial in understanding the motivations at play and developing effective countermeasures.

**Attachments:**

Photograph of Acumen Consulting StrangerVille Headquarters, possessed individual, military presence.

Aerial Surveillance of the location of the secret laboratory

I await further instructions and guidance to proceed with the investigation.

End of Report.

Posts about Operation Mother's Influence: « BEGINNING / NEXT »

Posts about Bella: « PREVIOUS / BEGINNING / NEXT »

[chronicler-of-narrative]

About OC ask

2, how they hugging (if they even hugging with someone. And why if they do not)

Sorry for taking so long!

So since its more of a question (and I couldnt really figure out a proper situation where this character would express it as a journal entry) I'll directly answer it by saying that no, he does not hug other humans due to his...rather reclusive nature.

However, not to leave you empty handed, I have written an entry that I originally inteded to be the answer, before realizing it doesn't really fit the actual prompt given, alongside a small character summary. So, without further ado:

A chronicler's research notes

Chapter: Orb Vallis/Venus

Cycle: 54

Research subject: Common Vallis Kubrodon

Begin note recording in 3...2...1...

*click*

(sigh)

Venus, a place of many test...One day, It is one's cold tolerance. Another...one's bargaining ability with local Corpus forces to ensure their neutrality. But on days like this, I really wonder...

(a multitude of low, non-aggressive barks can be heard, echoing against the cave walls)

I consider myself a Kavat person. How could I not, faced with their serene beauty and graceful, yet lethal nature? And yet, the Vallis seems intent on breaking this conviction of mine, like it would break the body of a soul used to warmth...

(a singular bark can be heard, followed by a whining sound)

Yes, yes, little one...Fret not, you will get your share as well...

(The sound of objects clattering against the floor, followed immediately by the sound of bone beinf crushed)

The local Solaris wildlife expert warned me these creatures were agressive and territorial and that they only show respect to, and I quote, 'the strongest of the strong'. I will probably have to ask him to arrange follow-up consultations to discuss such...abnormal behavior. Though, there is another possibility...But, surely they cannot be so perceptive as to-

(The whinning sound returns, with a few intermitten a few barks)

What is it you seek now? Can't you see I'm-

(Again the sound of skittering paws, followed thump, a human yell, and the sound of something hitting the floor)

Ow...You little...

(Another bark)

Fine, but you should consider yourself fortunate that It would even cross my mind to give you affection after these shenanigans! At least Kavats don't throw you to the ground as a gesture of friendship...

(A bark)

Hold on, first I have a recording to conclude...

Ahem, it would appear that...unfavorable recording conditions have been reached. I will continue once I return to Fortuna. As for this video, hopefully I remember to set it for deletion. What a waste of memory...

*click*

Summary: The Chronicler is a pseudonym known by many local experts across the System. Be they Grineer or Corpus, Ostron or Solaris, most have heard of a certain Tenno seemingly uninterested neither in loot nor bloodshed...But rather in preservation. When asked, he simply shrugs, replying that he considers it his 'duty' to record and chronicle the many wondrous events, regions, objects and lifeforms across the System. Questions regarding his true name or even Warframe have similarly yielded little results, implying this Tenno child possesses neither. Most perculiar of all though, is that no other Tenno, even those whose memories from before The Collapse have remained intact, seem to have any idea of who this Chronicler figure is, leaving many to ponder at his true identity.

[famoustalementality]

7 may 2023 "Also I'm not dumb. Jose still has a virtual machine so of course I wouldn't worry too much. He can run a malware if he wants to but as long as it doesn't penetrate through the virtual machine. I still remember the videos he did on that month of February. Pretty cool yet scary. Malwares are the most powerful. And are like gods. Monoxide.exe attack winmugen and boy that was crazy. I wished it attack minecraft though. Since I am a bit smart, I know that Dragon tiers are overkill cheapies in mugen. You can't beat them, but Avast Antivirus though.I still want to hang around before going. I don't have bad english and grammar at least I'm not a 1 IQ person, who just talks mixed up words and spread that fucking retarded non-sense anywhere and everywhere.Not to be rude or offend anyone. I know that was a bad joke. (even though it's actually true) Jose isn't worst dumb, he has at least 25 IQ or maybe 30 I don't know. We were friends for quite a while and I do understand him, we don't fight now.Nah, but how did Jose even meet with Alex Hou though? I fucking hate Alex Hou! Yeah no he really did piss me off as he did piss off Tyreki, he's a just focusing on gacha life and country humans that why he has 1 IQ and he English and grammar is so bad.Fuck this shit. I know I'm not going to calm down. But Alex Hou is the reason why Jose is quitting, and we're feeling miserable. He is a huge obstacle on our way, okay? I mean once we no longer use this platform I hope he can truly forget all of us.I can't stand him. Why does he come to Jose's channel? This was literally a bad choice for Jose to choose his friend's. Now I realize that we can't get along to well. Smarter or dumber. I mean what language does a Panama speak? I'm sure he understands more in his own language.Bruh, shut the fuck up! You are going to make him upset. Why do you have to say all of that? Not gonna lie has past is pretty sad you know? I understand that we should be nice and patient and go easy on Alex Hou. But you are just plain cruel, and you blame him!?He doesn't know what a virtual machine is, c'mon bruh. He is like not interested to learn about anything at all, just play games and watch gacha life. Look what he did, Tyreki is stressed (well actually it was kinda a mistake, to make such rank concepts of inflation)Jose is using virtual machine. Yet Alex Hou doesn't know what a virtual machine is! I don't why does someone with 1 or 10 IQ uses electronic devices.And the fact that he called you "Hana Chronicler" bro Alex Hou is calling everyone random names just so that we can't know that he is talking about us. But Tyreki did that to him too "dumb person" (he called Alex Hou that)But then Alex Hou tried to fight back calling Jose "stupid philippine user" and putting out nonsense even though Jose was not at that place.Omg. Nobody cares! You are a mid if you bully Alex Hou.Are you fucking stupid!? He put a link in that video. And it doesn't make sense!! And Tyreki now disposes his concepts of inflation ranks, his fanmade minecraft inflation ranks that are reference to mugen cheapies no longer exist. The document will be gone too.You don't get better at life, if you can't find friends who are smart. If you have a friend with 100 IQ he can probably help you with your hardest assignments. Having a friend with 10 or 1 IQ gets you nothing but play games and, that is you being a mid!THAT'S NOT THE POINT! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO TREAT OTHERS EQUALLY AND RESPECTFULLY AND YOU SAY THAT ABNORMAL PEOPLE ARE THE PLAGUE OF THIS WORLD!? HOW ABOUT YOU GO CRY INSIDE A DUMPSTER FULL OF SHIT!!!" Pt1 next

[green-scrub-chronicles]

Cultural humility-the final chapter

As I take the final bow, fieldwork has been a journey of a thousand steps through a valley of a thousand hills. One may argue that the pressure equates to growth and forces you to gravitate out of your comfort zone. I agree because the young, scared girl in green scrubs that walked the gates of this tour has emerged as a confident and capable being. Growth means not just seeing progress but also considering my shortfalls.

Allow me to take you to our final stop in the OT Chronicles. It is sad, but everything comes to an end. Did I take the learning opportunities placed in front of me to be the therapist I have to be in less than 18 months, but who is counting?

If you ask me what cultural humility is, the sensible definition I will give is to break the words into two: culture is what guides our morals, principles, and basically who we are, and humility is how we present ourselves and treat the people around us. The University of Oregano defines cultural humility as a practice of self-reflection on how one’s background and the background of others impact teaching, learning, research, engagement, choice, and leadership. They further mention the components that embody the concept of culture, such as the analysis of our cultural practices and beliefs and how they impact choice and perception. It consists of having the ability to acknowledge the power imbalances and the willingness to learn to dissemble the stigmatization and stereotypes we carry as individuals.

The blurred lines between cultural humility and cultural competency due to the perceived idea of learning about one’s culture and adapting behaviour and communication style to uphold the cultural principles of another do not necessarily equate to cultural humility because it leads to being general about certain cultural values and overlooking the uniqueness within the individualistic cultural principles. For example, with a client that is a black Zulu man who is a Nazarene, I walked into a treatment session with perceived biases about what I should expect. That diverted from seeing him as an individual, causing a negative impact on his occupational profile when looking at his roles and general behaviour. For instance, I would refrain from doing meal preparation activities because of the cultural setting within a black Zulu household of a man not being in the kitchen. My biases may be proven to align with the client's overall being, as he did not perform house duties that he perceived as feminine, which I perceive as normal. This may contradict my perceptions pertaining to household chores, but exposure, it broadened my viewpoint and gave me a generalized idea of what to expect. This leads to reflecting and understanding that it is a choice of "a person" but not a group, and to being aware of qualities that may overlap among different groups of people but do not bind them into a single cultural belief.

Cultural humility addresses the negative power imbalances in therapist-client interactions. It goes to the initial contact with the client as you build rapport based on how you present yourself and the appropriate use of social skills. We unconsciously do and behave a certain way, shaped by our own cultural principles and ethical behaviour, to portray and uphold ourselves in a professional way. When I interact with people, I exhibit an enthusiastic and friendly manner which some may perceive as appropriate to interact only with peers and seem like a lack of respect for an older. This may be due to their own beliefs and background on how one should behave. For instance, I adapted my presentation skills based on the client’s values in a way where I had to refrain from maintaining eye contact with a client and minimize the vocal flexibility and projections to maintain a controlled dialogue. To me, it was abnormal due to my own experiences and the absolute freedom to express myself while maintaining respect within my home, friends, and community. However, it was a learning opportunity to comprehend further the Shembe religion and core values.

The power we exert as professionals within practice causes an imbalance, subconsciously disagree with clients when they consider traditional medicine due to their knowledge and personal beliefs. When I look back to my interaction with my CVA client, she expressed that her stroke was due to a white bird sent by a witchcraft-practising neighbour. I cracked my head trying to comprehend the intricacies of the cause outside of the constructs of Western medicine. Based on research, I learned more about the cultural beliefs about diseases and their pathology. My perception of witchcraft clouded the possibility of the validity of the reason, but to uphold cultural competency, I adapted and accepted the client’s beliefs, but that caused me to perceive it as a goal rather than acquiring more to reach a mutual place to provide a collaborative approach, as I was unable to cater to the needs of the client due to internalized biases. According to Singh et al. (2022), occupational therapists may identify and rectify power relations over time, improve cross-cultural therapeutic interactions, hold systems responsible in client-centred practice, and eventually eliminate health disparities by improving their practices to encourage cultural humility. Read more below on cultural humility in occupational therapy:

I was stunned dumbfounded for a few seconds, "All I need is prayer, and Christ will hear my cry." Occupational therapy preaches about giving clients hope, but how can I validate her belief that she will be healed by employing prayer? Hope is a notable notion, but the absence of dedication to Christ renders it challenging to provide assurance and empathy for her cries. Given my beliefs in prayer caused by grief and my psychological state, which impacted the encounter with the client, all I could provide was medical knowledge to reassure her. I lacked holistically in contemplating her spiritual expression, although acknowledging and controlling my prejudices, produced a stumbling block in reaching a higher plane in developing a positive rapport. In the session, I learned how religion moulds our behaviour, choices, and lives. The ability to comprehend the role we play as health professionals in the dynamic interaction of religion, the power element, and the influence on clients' care. It goes back to how the client interacts; the level of participation and motivation to engage are guided by culture. Therefore, cultural humility promotes the complexity of our identities and helps us understand the uniqueness of individualism. I agree that it will be an ongoing learning experience due to how diverse our country is, as we are a rainbow nation displaying uniqueness within our commonalities in religion and cultural groups, further broadening the diversity.

Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn. -Benjamin Franklin, It has not been an easy journey, but through supervision, it was a lighthouse in an unsettling stormy sea. What I learned from my supervisor was the importance of consistency and a willingness to learn. To avail yourself and absorb the information to improve critical thinking, employing thinking beyond what is superficial and finding links. To not work in the process of elimination and categorization but be able to observe and use yourself as a tool through the guidance of therapeutic frameworks to adapt and perform sessions with clients. The supervisor included me in my learning experience, which was profound as I could compare and contrast my performance without prompting. At first, I perceived it as a formal setting between teacher and student, but I shifted my view and differentiated the key components, which were support, assurance, collaboration, and a conducive environment to learn.

OT enthusiasts, my take-home message this week is that we are better together because together we can achieve great things. Together, we must be able to acknowledge the sameness in our culture but also understand its individualistic uniqueness. To open ourselves to actively learning about our differences and reflecting on our own prejudices, as our differences should unite us rather than separate us. We have 11 official languages, each of which contains diversity to explore, research to humanize our interactions, and our own stories as tools to assure, heal, and validate.

We have closed the chapter of this story, but the book is not finished yet. This is not a goodbye, but “a see you soon”.

[bablake]

Holocaust Memorial Day 2023

“What is abnormal is that I am normal. That I survived the Holocaust and went on to love beautiful girls, to talk, to write, to have toast and tea and live my life – that is what is abnormal.”  Elie Wiesel, survivor of the Holocaust

In assemblies this week, Mrs Skilton and Reverend Slavic reminded us that we can be extraordinary in our actions; that we can all challenge prejudice and stand up to hatred. They spoke about the danger of thinking of a person as being in a category, because you start noticing differences and miss all the myriad ways in which we are the same, as people, and different as individuals.

Today is Holocaust Memorial Day, which commemorates the liberation of Auschwitz concentration camp on the 27th January 1945. As we know, the Nazi regime was the ultimate categoriser of people. Those categories that did not fit the Nazi ideal were subjected to horrendous persecution, torture and murder. Over six million people were deliberately killed by the Nazi regime. Many were Jewish, but the Nazis also persecuted and killed Roma, homosexuals, those with disabilities, those with different political and moral opinions, Jehovah’s Witnesses and those they deemed ‘asocial’.

We heard the story of Hansie Douglas, who survived because of luck, judgement, bravery and the Dutch resistance, although all of her family were killed in a concentration camp. I encourage you to read more about her story at https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/11954115.hansie-douglas-holocaust-chronicler-who-was-the-only-one-of-her-family-to-escape-with-her-life/ or get hold of a copy of her book, ‘Selected to Live'.

Despite losing all her close family, she devoted her life to reconciliation, never giving in to the bitterness and recrimination that would have been so understandable.

Posts on social media suggested this week that almost a quarter of young people believe the Holocaust was a myth. While this reminds us that we should not be complacent, this is not something that I recognise at Bablake and there are frequent reminders about our responsibilities to promote peace and reconciliation - a core mission of our community both in School and in our city.

Six million, because too few people questioned what was happening. Six million people dying because of hate. Six million. Help me to say ‘No’. Help me to stand up for the minority, against the crowd, despite the cost. Help me to say, ‘No more Holocausts’.

Amen.

Andrew Wright Headmaster

(Bulletin No 65 - 27th January 2023)

#bablakefamily #NewBeginnings #alumni #inspire

[creepycreature-exe]

Chronicles of An Abnormal Person: Mr. Nobody

I have tried so very, very hard to live a normal life. I’m not exaggerating either, I have activity made choices to try and keep my life as mediocre as possible. I chose to go to a normal four-year university, I chose to move to a normal city, I chose to work a boring as fuck desk job all in the vain hope that it would allow me to live a normal life. My mother sacrificed everything to give me a normal life. In spite of all that work, I still ended up being an abnormal person.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. I think the best place to start is with a name. You may call me Lyra. I am a 25-year-old woman who lives in a large, widely known city. About a month ago, my mother died suddenly and without warning. The coroner still isn’t sure what killed her, and police haven’t turned up a single suspect. She lived in a small back-woods town about two hours from the city. There is virtually no crime out here and everyone knows everyone, and yet, she was killed in her home in the middle of the night. I’m actually writing this from within the house.

Now my mother and I hadn’t spoken much since I went to college seven years ago. Not because we were on bad terms or anything, in fact my mother and I were incredibly close. However, we both knew that I would never be able to leave this town behind if we didn’t sever all ties to each other. So, she sent me away, and never talked to me again.

I think… I think some part of my brain blocked out all the weird things that happened to me while I lived in this house. As I stepped over the threshold a few days ago, I wondered why I hadn’t visited or called at least once over the years. Now that I have been here a few days though, it’s all starting to come back to me. In the wake of this, I have decided to put it all out there, not for the notoriety, but to see if someone else out there has been through the same thing. I’m hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone who has gone through all of this before, can give me some advice on what I should do. I know that may sound crazy, but please just hear me out first.

I think the first weird thing I want to talk about is my old imaginary friend. His name was Mr. Nobody. I first met Mr. Nobody after I moved into this very house. When we first met, Mr. Nobody had the appearance of a lanky, depressed 16-year-old boy. His hair was brown, and shaggy. His clothes were clearly bought to accommodate his height as oppose to his width, as they were very baggy on him. One big thing I can clearly remember, was this large necklace he always wore. It had beautiful beads and a silver cross, and I think Mr. Nobody once mentioned that him and his family were all Catholics. Honestly though, most of my memories of him are fuzzy. I think I found him after hearing him crying from the woods. This house borders a vast forest, and there was no actual fence between the forest and the backyard. So, it was easy for 4-year-old me to follow his cries into the forest, and to his location.

One of the few things I remember clearly is his shock upon seeing me. He obviously hadn’t expected me there, and I can’t blame him. This was the middle of the woods after all. The other thing I can clearly remember, is that when I asked for his name, he told he was “nobody.” Little me took that quiet literally, which is why I called him “Mr. Nobody” from that point forward. We talked for a while, he explained his woes and I did the best a naïve child could to reassure him. I can’t quiet remember what ailed him, all I can clearly recall was turning towards the sound of my mother’s voice as she called me home, and when I turned back to say good-bye to Mr. Nobody, he was gone.

From that moment on, I saw Mr. Nobody everywhere. Sometimes he would appear in our house, sometimes he would be in the yard. Sometimes, I would see him out on the town. The only thing that remained consistent, was that no matter where I found him, I was the only one who could see him. This is why my parents thought he was an imaginary friend, cause only I could see him. And I mean, he must’ve been. That is the only logical explanation for his existence, but still, there are things about him that have always stuck with me.

One of the big ones, was that Mr. Nobody got older. At first, I didn’t even really notice. The changes were so subtle, they were easy to miss. Than one day, when I was about 10, I noticed that Mr. Nobody had some grey hairs. He grumbled about getting old as he gently combed the greys into his hair and out of sight. That was just the beginning though. As I grew older, he started to dress differently; from tee shirts and jeans to button ups and khakis. Mr. Nobody matured into an adult as I matured into a teenager. Still we talked to each other, with Mr. Nobody always seeming to feel lighter after telling me his woes. I just enjoyed feeling useful to someone. My father died when I was young, and my mother struggled to fully accept his death for years. I also wasn’t well liked in school. I was a tall, geeky-looking child and bullies dogged me mercilessly until high school. I was so desperate to feel wanted by someone that I basked in Mr. Nobody’s friendship and was willing to talk anywhere, anytime.

Another oddity about Mr. Nobody was how long he stuck around. Most of the kids I knew grew out of their imaginary friends by the time they were in 3rdor 4thgrade. However, I can vividly recall sitting at the table, as my mother stared at me with confusion. A shop owner in town had seen me walking home, talking vigorously to thin air and had called my mother out of concern. I can still remember my mother’s response when I told her I was talking to Mr. Nobody. “You are 13 years old, far too old for this nonsense.” I can remember deciding, in that very moment, that I could never talk to Mr. Nobody again. That wasn’t the last time I saw him though. No, Mr. Nobody kept showing up for a few months after that. Every time he would try to talk to me, I pretended I couldn’t see him and go about my business. It was hard to pull off, but over those months I started high school and made some real friends. Once I had a group of friends to distract me, leaving Mr. Nobody behind was easy. And you know what? After a while, he stopped talking to me. I still saw him from time to time, but he never tried to talk to me during those moments.

That’s how things stayed for a long time, and then… and then there was the graduation night incident. The day itself is a blur, mostly due to the morning bustle followed by the boring ceremony. After that, I went to an after-party with friends, got plastered and came home at an ungodly hour. I can vaguely recall passing out on my bed, and then nothing. The next thing I know I am out in the woods behind my house. I was sitting on the forest floor, balling and screaming for my mother. Her voice was screaming out for me somewhere nearby as a familiar shadowy figure fled into the woods. It was the figure of Mr. Nobody, darting into the trees as my mother and a few neighbors followed my screams. I was taken to the hospital, where they kept me until I completely sobered up. The police stopped by too, but the blackout kept me from telling them anything of value.

Afterwards, my mother packed my bags and sent me to the city to stay with one of my father’s old friends. She only came to see me once after that. That memory is crystal clear in my mind. My mother drove into the city to help me move into the dorms at my college. She helped me set up my room and we got lunch together. We never talked about what happened on graduation night, we tried to focus the conversation on my upcoming term. Finally, she walked me to my dorm room and stopped in my doorway. My mother gave me a somber look and told me that this was the last time we could see each other. She implored me to work towards having a normal life. My mother asked me to find a good job in the city and instructed me to never contact her again. I think that was the first time since my father’s death I had seen her cry. Before I could hug her, she walked out the of the dorm and left me.

The reason I wanted to talk about Mr. Nobody first is because the police came by earlier today to drop off some personal affects, they had taken the night my mother died. Among those things, was a beaded, silver cross. Now my mother can be best classified as a pagan, and she had a deep spite for Christianity. I can even remember a time I brought home a friend who had a cross on his shirt, and my mother nearly threw a fit. I cannot think of an explanation for how the necklace got into the house. When I looked closely at the cross though, it brought back all those memories of Mr. Nobody. It has left me wondering, if it is possible that Mr. Nobody was something more than an imaginary friend. Especially as I think back on other strange occurrences from my childhood. I’ll write about those at a later date though. For now, I think I am going to try and get some sleep. I will submit more soon. 

[babybabymerrychristmas]

"oh gifted kids have such a superiority complex about their intelligence" is allistic speak for "im a fucking moron who doesn't bother to research everything that I'm interested in so I don't have any useful facts stored in my brain, just stupid football stats and which celebrities are being weird on instagram again and I want to make that autistic people's problem like google isn't fucking free and nothing is stopping my dumb ass from just fucking learning"

[kseniyagreen]

Han Juwon and Lee Dongsik: In search of the lost. Part 1 (of 2)

(Spoilers, a lot) 

In this article, I will dwell in more detail on the images of the two main characters, their psychology and their amazing interaction. The incredible "chemistry" of this tandem is felt already from the first series. And after watching the entire drama, viewers wrote that this bromance is brighter than many love stories. First of all, thanks to the powerful duo of two outstanding actors. But the preconditions for a vivid relationship are laid down in the script itself. And the more I think about Beyond Evil, the more I become convinced that Dongsik and Juwon are truly “made for each other”. But first, let's take a look at them separately.

Lee  Dongsik   – a story about lost paradise.  

We learn the story of Lee  Dongsik   already in the first episodes, and it is striking in its tragedy. The life of a bright, daring young man collapsed at twenty. And all the next twenty years are a chronicle of loss and suffering. As if every time he tried to raise his head, the next blow was overtaking him.

What kind of person was Lee  Dongsik   before the disaster? We were shown not much, but enough to compose a portrait. I think you could say he was a debonair rebel. He did not try to fit into someone's framework, to please, which caused condemnation of society. But he defended the weak, not hesitating to use his fists. Like his sister, he loved music, although he chose a different genre for himself. Despite the constant hurtful comparisons, he had a very good, warm relationship with his sister - also an important touch to the portrait. In general, we see a person who is cheerful, daring, but kind. And even twenty years later, something of this young man still remains. Although the process of destruction is already underway, so others even notice it. And among colleagues,  Dongsik   gained a reputation as a "psycho".

However,  Dongsik   partly deliberately demonstrates his abnormality. His half-mad smile is his banner, his silent protest against the blatant injustice of life.

The story of the Dongsik’s family begins in the church, and this is no coincidence. This whole scene creates an atmosphere of harmonious, prosperous life in every sense. And already here the word justice sounds - both in the song played by Yuyeon, and in the conversation between the mother and her friend. In such a family, I suppose, a sense of justice was natural for Dongsik. But then a catastrophe happened, a wild, monstrous incident, and his harmonious world collapsed in one day.

Yuyeon's fingers were found in the courtyard of her house, between the statues of two angels.  Juwon   once noticed that Dongsik had not removed the statues in the garden.  Juwon   was surprised - why leave such a painful memory? As a trophy - if Dongsick is a killer? Or is it something else?  Juwon   is actually very subtle about everything that matters to Donsik, although his conclusions are not always correct.

Dongsik could leave the past behind, he has enough fortitude for that. But he remains in the place where the most painful memories are concentrated. One gets the impression that Donsik spends most of his time in the basement, as if he does not live in this house, but protects it, is on duty at the post, like a guard at the temple. In part - he is not ready to give up hope. Yes, deep down he knows Yuyoung is dead. But part of him wants to believe that she will return. He's also not ready to agree, to accept that the world works like this. That a crime that has destroyed more than one life will remain unpunished - everyone seems to have come to terms with it long ago. Everyone except Dongsik.

Dongsik once believed in the law, as we learn from his conversation with Nam Sanbe at his father's funeral. This belief that, having become a policeman, he would be able to change something, for some time supported him. But then he discovered that often the law, like these stone angels, is a silent witness, indifferent and helpless. This is how the thought is born that the "angels" will not help. "To catch a monster, you have to become a monster." But this thought devastates Dongsik from the inside, as it contradicts his whole essence.

And yet, after twenty years of lonely struggle, Donsik was already deadly tired. We see this tiredness in the little things. For example, the way he indifferently stares at the fallen poster announcing   Yuyeon's missing. This fight is almost a formality. Despair slowly seizes his soul. And perhaps it would have captured him completely, if not for the appearance of  Juwon.

Han Juwon - look from the staircase.

If Dongsik's childhood was a lost paradise, then Juwon's childhood was a nightmare, probably from the beginning. On the one hand, there was a cold, cruel narcissistic father. On the other hand, there was a depressed mother, who is also demonstrative in her despair. She got drunk, she cut veins. She was in pain and wanted to be noticed. But her actions caused only contemptuous annoyance and growing irritation in her husband. Her pain was felt by her son - children always feel - but for a small child it was too heavy a burden.

When we see little Juwon, it is immediately noticeable that he is different from other children. Looking at the frightening scene between father and mother, he does not interfere and does not cry. He stands as if paralyzed, clutching a plush hare as the only support in this world. And the scene is actually scary. In fact, in this scene, his father kills his mother. "The problem is not the attempts, but the fact that they are unsuccessful." "You're a burden to him." The father is doing everything possible so that the mother's next attempt ends fatally.

Why didn't Juwon come over and take her hand? Because of resentment that she was ready to give him up? I think this is not the only point. In this one scene, a lot is intertwined. The whole scene below was something too monstrous to be involved in. This is what will later become entrenched in Juwon's character, like a disgust for any dirt. An obsessive desire to stay pure in his world of abstract ideals.

And he was also, in a sense, afraid of his mother.    

It is interesting how the similarity of scenes in Beyond Evil sometimes reveals the contrast of fate. Two mothers' palms, but what a different relationship. In the scene of Dongsik's arrest, his mother reaches out to him with a desire to save her child. In the scene, when strangers also take away Juwon's mother, she reaches out her hand, begging her son for salvation. That is, the roles of the son and mother in this scene are reversed. And this is also one of the reasons why Juwon did not came up - this touch weighed too much. An overwhelming responsibility for an eight-year-old to be a savior for his parent. The words that Juwon will one day say to Dongsik: "I know that some people are a burden just because they exist" - not just a phrase repeated after his father. Juwon knows what it is like when an emotional connection with another person weighs on a heavy burden.

But this missed touch became Juwon's personal nightmare. He loved his mother and was grieving at the loss. Although he couldn't handle this loss properly. After all, the father spoke of the mother's suicide with contempt, depriving the child of the opportunity to realize and mourn his grief. Juwon seemed to remain on this staircase for the next twenty years. This is how we see him at the beginning of the drama. Looking at people from high, avoiding any contact. With an emphasis on cleanliness and order.

But no matter what armor Juwon surrounded himself with, a living soul was preserved in him. This shows up in subtle nuances. The way his gaze changes when he sees suffering. How he notices someone else's discomfort and understands other people's feelings. He says that keeping Kang Minjung in handcuffs is too harsh. He himself guesses to go for raincoats for Dongsik and the lost boy. There are a lot of small moments that show Juwon as an empathetic person.

In Juwon, as is often the case with such psychological trauma, feelings are separated from consciousness. So, he says that he knows nothing about the love of mother and child. But at the same time, his face changes every time it comes to mothers. He speaks of his mother as if she had abandoned him. It’s like he’s not even fully aware of what happened to her. Dongsik had a fantasy of meeting his sister in the mountains, although in his heart he knew that his sister was dead. Perhaps Juwon's fantasy was that his mother just left him and the rest didn't matter. He realizes the death of his mother as a fact. But all the feelings behind this are securely walled up in the deep basement of his inner world.

This is the state we find them at the beginning of the drama. One is almost at the bottom of life. The other is somewhere near the top. But both are equally lonely and ruined, gradually losing themselves. A traumatic event in the lives of both did not just hurt, but cut through the very essence, the opportunity to be yourself.

Dongsik is a natural «lover of life», almost disappointed with life. His inner world - like his home - is spacious, warm, it should be filled with living voices. But now it is empty and haunted.

Juwon is a rescuer by nature. Being a protector is so natural for Juwon that he does it involuntarily, as if obeying instinct. This role became a disaster for him, but Juwon could not give it up completely. He turned his calling into a formality, as Dongsik turned into a formality his life.

Deep down, both heroes feel like monsters. Both cope with it as best they can, but gradually come to a deadlock. Because it is impossible to be yourself for yourself alone. We need an addressee, a witness, a close one.

to be continued ...

[knight-dwx-09]

Category Jaune Arc

Because there are a lot different type of Jaune Arc. Not only his past but power too. So I will have 3 different categories Jaune Arc. This will just show what is the category for that Jaune is to me

Normal Jaune

This Jaune have same semblance and skill to all other Jaune, the only difference between all Jaune is the fate, place and jaune arc past. And sometimes jaune arc is faunus.

For Example=

-Jaune didn’t get in to beacon

“Arc of the Revolution”

By: Aleadrex

-Jaune the only one get to beacon

“Pineapple”

By: Imyoshi

-Jaune get expelled from beacon

“A Second Chance”

By: BlackJackHero

-Or beacon didn’t get attack

“One-Night Brand”

By: KtyouVsWriting

-Jaune become the king of grimm

“King of Grimm”

By: Devlin Dracu

-Jaune is faunus

“It Never Came Up”

By: BlackJackHero

Usually this Jaune can be the strongest hunter or one of the strongest hunter in remmant.

Abnormal Jaune

this Jaune Arc is different from all other Jaune, not only the past and fate different. He have different semblance or mutations semblance and skill. But the power he have can be attain by himself. Also he can be a different race. And sometimes he personality is different or just buried in the fake personality he have right now.

for example=

“Jaune in the Machine”

By: H3ctic

“Null”

By: Coeur Al'Aran

“Live, Die, Repeat”

By: ThePhantomScribe

“The Alternate Path”

By: Gravenimage

This one kinda is tricky. Sometimes the semblance he have can be stronger or weaker. Nut usually he can stil be top 8 strongest hunter in remmant with his skill and aura reserve.

????? Jaune

The last one is rare, this Jaune Arc is probably the strongest Jaune Arc category. Because his power can’t be attained by himself. Because his power was from other god or being. He also can be a different race from faunus or human in remmant

for example=

“Systema”

By: AFatFlyingWhale

“Jaune Ryu-Long, the Dragon Contractor”

By: azndrgn

“The Man Who Will Become King”

By: Konshiro Crobrasha

“A New Sword is Forged”

By: TheKingOfStorms

“Saiyan Chronicles: The Chosen Child”

By: Superale2

“Deck of Heroes”

By: Jauneforever

This Jaune Arc is the strongest human in that remmant because his power is different and powerful in remmant. And some can even killed a god and become the new god too.

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Set Me Free (M)

Min Yoongi Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: You are just an ordinary woman with a strange aura about you that Yoongi can’t seem to resist- even past the compulsion of his mentor. The question is: why?

•••> Pairing(s): Yoongi/Reader

•••> Requested by @itsgottabeyoo-ngs​ : “Hi daddy, One shot request with vampire Yoongi x brat reader. Bonus points for adding in choking or spitting idk make it filthy k thanks love you byeeeee xoxoxoxox”

•••> Word Count: 10.95k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | vampire!au | Yoongi!AU | Vampire’s Mate | Vampire!Yoongi | Human!Reader | Gifted!Reader

•••> Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, murder, attempted murder, slight choking/strangulation, dirty talk, biting, blood drinking, spitting, violence, horror, vampire/human relationship, cursing, mental attachment, thirsty Yoongi, Yoongi thinks he’s scary, but he’s totally not

Copyright © 2020 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for the request, babe! This one is a bit to unpack, as you can see. I hope you enjoy :)

~#~

Yoongi never claimed to have his thirst under complete control.

He stands before his brothers once every week for the feed, snarling as he consumes his share of blood, while the others bear witness so as to provide him ceremonial protection- a vampire is very vulnerable while he consumes blood. The polydipsia made one lose all form of reason and sense of mind, driven to the brink of animalistic insanity when it was in the process of mildly quenching the eternal hunger.

Polydipsia, used to describe his level of thirst, was the word made just for him in his own little world.

It wasn’t normal thirst, like a human, but the savage-like impulse to drink and drown until he could swim in a river of blood and take deep lungfuls of the crimson fluid. The impossible desire to consume and be completely consumed by blood until he became it himself always loomed over his mind in his early days as a Deadblood- a vampire youngling- causing him to search for a word that could completely describe his affliction.

Then the Greeks begun transforming their language, perfecting the word that he could use to chronicle his need. He had mulled over the thought throughout the few centuries that the word came into existence, truly connecting with it on a level that was deprived of him when his soul was taken from his body.

But the word was not only used to describe normal thirst; it described the abnormal desire to drink as a symptom of disease- and a disease is what Min Yoongi had.

From the days he explored the lands of Goryeo as a young teenage boy, he knew that disease racked every inch of the world. Street beggars, riddled with sicknesses and incurable illnesses, asked him for coin, food, clothing, and any necessities that could potentially carry them through the night into another sunrise. But the one thing that they begged for the most was water.

Liquid life. Yoongi thinks back on the ironic turn of events and how, even as a privileged boy of nobles, he understood just how desperate a person got when they were deprived of the one, singular fluid that supported life as he knew it.

As Yoongi approached adulthood, he was promoted and bestowed larger honors in the name of the Min clan, allowing him to provide more for the beggars and lower-class individuals that he came across on the streets every day- not that his father would find out.

Until he did.

Yoongi recalls the moment he knew that his father figured out that his son was spoiling the family riches on the lower class. They weren’t sitting down for dinner and having a conversation nor taking a stroll along the river like the two of them normally would- it was quite surprising, really. Yoongi had to applaud his father for the creativity of the circumstance.

He knew that his father figured out his whereabouts when he found himself bleeding out in the middle of the woods with three arrows, adorned with the Min clan crest carved into the wood, sticking out of his chest. He was sent to look for his supposedly lost little sister under the direction that she was probably at a watering hole- which Yoongi had never heard about- about forty-five minutes from the edge of Goryeo’s walls.

Many people ventured outside of the city to fend for food and necessities, or to find civilization elsewhere, so it wasn’t surprising to him that his curious baby sister wanted to see for herself what life was like outside of the city’s limits.

As Yoongi lay dying on the soil of the earth, staring up at the greenery of the trees above while they lightly swayed in the breeze, he realized that everyone, regardless of social-class or physical health, was fighting the same, universal disease: death. No one could escape it and no one was safe. At least, that’s the epiphany he had in an effort to comfort himself while he felt his heart painfully struggle to beat with an arrowhead lodged into it. Copious amounts of blood spurt out with each pulse of his damaged organ.

And then the universe decided to set him free from death with a cure worse than the disease itself.

Yoongi doesn’t remember who his creator was. He doesn’t remember how long he spent on the forest floor with the arrows still in his chest. He doesn’t remember waking up.

His memory of his new life started from the moment his consciousness returned, in the exact second that he found a set of vocal cords clutched in the palm of his hand, dripping with crimson, after apparently ripping them out of a young boy who was actively collapsing in front of him. The boy, who Yoongi immediately recognized from the streets of Goryeo, was choking on his own gore as he clutched at his now nonexistent throat, staring up at his killer with a jumbled expression that silently begged for help yet withdrew from terror.

It took Yoongi five years of trekking everywhere and no where while attempting to control his thirst before he found new meaning. He mostly had a hold on the scorch in his throat by staying away from the city and surrounding villages before he met another and figured out what he became.

The woman- no, girl?- appeared young yet spoke as if she had seen countless winters, the wisdom of a million middays glowing behind her carmine eyes. She was the first person he had met who did not end up dead within the first two minutes of scenting them on the wind.

“You are a vampire. You survive purely on the life essence of others. You are still a young Deadblood. Judging by your age, you should become a Redblood soon.” She sat with her back to him, overlooking the valley below the then-unnamed Odaesan mountain that they sat perched upon. “Do you know who created you?”

“Created me?” He asked. “What do you mean? My parents?”

She turned, her vibrant red eyes continuing to shock him. Did his own orbs look like this?

“I mean, who turned you?” She seemed to look at him incredulously, shocked by his lack of knowledge. “Who gave you their venom- their shi?”

“I…” Yoongi tried very hard to remember anything before the burning sensation that scraped like rocks against the insides of his bones and flesh, but all he could see and feel was fire and agony- and then blood. He couldn’t help but think with a grain of salt, disbelieving of the method in which he was born into his new life. “I don’t know. I just remember from my first kill.”

“Strange.” The other vampire muttered, returning her gaze to the valley. “Strange, indeed.”

Yoongi was always the silent type, only interacting when he needed to as a habit formed to avoid the questioning glare of his father when he returned home late on certain occasions.

But he couldn’t help the burning desire of curiosity within him, a welcome distraction from the need to feed within him. He had so many questions.

“You may ask your questions, Min Yoongi.” The woman sighed, not even bothering to spare him a glance whilst she spoke. The man was shocked to find that she knew his name without him telling her.

“How do you know my name?” The new revelation took precedent in his mind, hoping that she was not an enemy of his clan.

“A valid question.” She mused. “Anticipated, but valid. I suppose I’ll answer your question to the best of my ability.”

Yoongi shifted his position in preparation, a new habit that he formed in his new life. He learned from the first time he moved to stretch that his body did not need to be stretched as it usually did. He never ached, never cramped, never tired, and never lost energy. Despite the lack of his emotions in their usual form, he knew that it should have been unsettling to find such a new change within him, so he did the sensible thing of pretending that he needed to.

He pretended he needed to breathe- after two hours at the bottom of a lake he stumbled upon in his aimless journey, he was amazed to find that he required no oxygen to continue existing- and that he didn’t need to sleep nor use the bathroom. He would practice taking breaths, trying to inhale and exhale evenly without becoming allured to the pungent yet undeniably attractive scent of animal blood so that he could finally smell the forest again. He pretended to go to sleep and wake up with the urge to relieve himself of the noneixstent pressure in his bladder despite not having any of the instincts he once had.

The woman spoke, answering his first question.

“I can hear your thoughts. They’re not necessarily specific, but I can hear when you are wistful- like you are now- or when you are curious or sad or angry. I can hear the causes of these emotions.” She paused. “It comes with the gift of my second life. A form of protection, if you will.”

“Why would I need protection when I am invincible? I’ve seen the things I can do and what my body can endure.” He briefly recalled repeatedly jumping from a cliff, automatically landing on his feet no matter how hard he tried not to. Before, he had a will to survive with a choice of dying, but now? There was no comprehensible choice. “There is nothing that can hurt me.”

Yoongi couldn’t help cocking his head to the side like a confused dog when the woman let out a breathless laugh.

“Because, young one,” She looked at him with her eyes again, a look of mock endearment filling them. “You are not invincible.”

For a moment, Yoongi did not believe her. He believed that the liquid running through his veins was pure ichor, an essence of the gods, but when he returned her look of sincere truth, he understood that dying was still very much possible.

Thanking the gods, Yoongi looked to the ground and began toying with his fingers at his revelation. He could stop murdering people, willing to die in order to do so.

The woman shook her head. “No, Min Yoongi. You do not have to die to stop killing humans. In fact, it is the reason I have not killed you yet. You are unaware of the possibilities.”

His head perked up at the comment, suddenly eager to learn.

“How? How can I live without killing?” All he could see was the young boy that he had murdered in cold blood; the boy’s warm brown eyes staring up at him as he watched the life drain from them burned into his memory- he didn’t even know the boy’s name. The boy could not have been older than his own sister.

“I never told you that you could continue to live without killing. Of course, you have to kill. But you do not have to kill people.” The woman nodded her head down the mount. “Do you smell that? Do you smell the life that lives throughout this mountain?”

Yoongi attempted to focus on his senses but could only feel the thirst once again tormenting his throat. As soon as the woman shifted his attention back to the aroma of life, he salivated. Of course, he smelled the animal’s scents, but he could also detect traces of human life upwind that completely took away his desire for anything but humans.

“Push the thirst aside to open your senses. Embrace them. Embrace your power and your abilities. Focus on those.”

Again, he tried to push the scorch in his throat to the side, only to find that it was an impossible feat seeing as he had not fed in several months. He wanted human blood so badly.

“Poor child. I did not realize how weak you were.” She let a grimace morph her features, the first true expression of genuine emotion that Yoongi had seen on her. “Come sit in front of me. I will help you.”

For a moment, Yoongi hesitated. Was she going to kill him? He was not sure, but after a few more thoughts to himself, he realized that he had nothing to lose. Following her direction obediently, he moved to sit with his legs crossed in front of the woman.

“Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice.” She raised her hands to his head, placing her fingertips on his temples, and began whispering while he let his eyes flutter closed.

He felt as if he was mentally hit by a charging bear.

The woman’s words echoed in his mind, seating themselves amongst every corner and crevice that they could touch before Yoongi could understand what was happening. Shocked by the feeling of being intruded upon, he tried to push back against the mind-numbing force of her words, uncomfortable and feeling violated by the sensation. Instead of stopping them, her voice just broke down his amateur attempt at a mental barrier and pushed its way further into his brain. He was helpless to her superior mental awareness and gift.

“You will not focus on the thirst. You will focus on your abilities. Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.”

And Min Yoongi had no option but to obey for he was forced into a dieted life.

But as he stands, thousands of years later, in the middle of your kitchen whilst watching you silently with the inferno of the blazing sun in his esophagus, he couldn’t help the need that overcame him. He could not obey his mentor; miraculously and horrifyingly, the gift of his mentor did not work with you.

He was impelled by his mentor’s gift, effectively removing most of the bloodlust he had for humans. In his lifetime, after the unavoidable command was bestowed upon him, he had only killed a handful of humans when he was consumed by the thirst after living in self-induced exile for so long. But standing before you, he may have needed to add a finger to that handful depending on what you did next.

Yoongi first clocked you on his radar the moment you walked into the small coffee shop he was occupying for the later part of the morning.

Building a friendship with you was quite easy.

You were bright and warm and everything wonderful upon meeting him. Your smile was just shy of naive, yet he couldn’t help the alien tugs on his heart when watching you giggle.

“How old are you, Yoongi?” You asked while circling the straw in your caramel macchiato.

“Old enough.” He chuckled, looking down with what you perceived as shyness.

“Oh?” You laughed with him. “And how old is enough for you?”

“I could ask you the same question. How old do you think I am?” He met your eyes, once again shocking you with their beautifully vibrant shade of brown.

“Well…” You trailed off, studying his facial features closely- the hint of a permanent smile line, fresh haircut, and no wrinkles alluded that he couldn’t be over thirty. “I’m gonna say… twenty-five?”

The man across from you smiled. “Very close. I’m twenty-seven.”

So he wasn’t that much older than you. You could totally do him.

Yoongi noticed the flash of lust that ghosted through your pupils for a split second, recognizing the dilation of them as you glanced at him. He watched you stick your chest out a bit more, begin fiddling with your hair more often, and part your lips while you let the thoughts of sexual satisfaction run across your mind.

“Twenty-seven, huh? That’s not bad at all.” You smiled, letting your tongue lightly swipe along your bottom lip unconsciously.

Yoongi zeroed in on the action with a piercing gaze, watching as the muscle seemed to move in slow motion tauntingly, daring him to dig his fangs into it savagely before tearing it from your mouth to feel the blood pouring from your lips onto his face. 

His body reacted sensibly, blood rushing like fake adrenaline to awaken his better instincts- rushing everywhere- and making his jeans become uncomfortably tight as they restrained his filling manhood. 

Blood drinking was as exciting as it was satisfying for a vampire. An extremely personal and holy moment, consuming lifeblood was the most raw and sexual moment to experience. A vampire could not experience real sexual desire without it.

He dug his fingers into the faux leather of his side of the booth until they broke through the material to restrain himself from attempting to attack you in the middle of the day.

Quickly, gaining his sense of mind once again, he tore more holes into the leather to round out the punctures so that it could appear as if the holes were from wear and tear.

The scent of your blood transpierced by the hormones and adrenaline beginning to flow through your veins made it just that much more implausibly alluring. Yoongi admitted that you were a beautiful and kind woman from the conversation throughout the morning. He also knew that you had a deviant side due to the surprisingly quick appearance of your lust-filled gaze.

Yet he couldn’t help the urge to murder you on the spot.

He knew that he couldn’t touch you. The supernatural safety of the sun that shone on your body prevented him from laying a finger on your skin without his own lighting aflame. He learned the protection of sun rays on humans the hard way.

His fifth human victim, a monk who travelled the heights of Mount Odaesan- Yoongi’s sanctuary and home- for a religious trial, travelled early in the morning as the sun was rising. Yoongi smelt the sweat dripping from the man’s skin instantly. In the small cove he called home, he tried to resist the urge to kill the man for he hadn’t smelt human blood in several years.

His mentor’s words were ever present. ‘Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.’

Despite having those words affecting his instincts, Yoongi had managed to convince himself that the monk was a dead man standing once he smelled remnants of a virus tainting his scent, effectively bypassing the impulsion of the woman’s mind control.

Yoongi found himself rushing at the man without a second thought, fangs bared and fingers curled in preparation to tear the man’s limbs from his body. However, before he could get within two feet of the vulnerable monk, he was thrown back by an invisible and boiling hot force that left him screaming in agony and flying through the air.

The monk quickly ran back down the mountain in terror, yet Yoongi could pay no mind as he lay on the forest floor, ready to die once again as his skin singed and fell from his flesh like swamp sludge.

As his throat tore itself raw from his wails of misery, his body writhed in and out on itself in complete and utter anguish. The smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed his nostrils, pungent and nauseating in every possible way. How he was able to focus on something other than the pain was beyond him.

Despite the burning, Yoongi could feel his aflame skin beginning to heal itself. Clawing through the dirt, he felt the blood stored in his stomach rushing through his veins to the broken and severed ones, rebuilding them and recreating the network of arteries necessary to begin restoring his expanse of skin.

Before long, the pain subsided and Yoongi was no longer screaming. The entire ordeal lasted approximately twenty minutes- long enough that Yoongi no longer heard the footsteps of the monk and long enough for him to process the events that had just happened. 

He was thankful that he became a Redblood with the ability to use consumed blood throughout his body, unsure of what would have happened to him if he had been a Deadblood at the time. Deadbloods burned through consumed blood quicker than a spark from a flint could ignite kindling into a flame.

He definitely needed to ask the woman, Zizi, about it. And he definitely needed to track that monk until sundown so that he could get rid of any loose ends.

Yoongi grimaced slightly, remembering the occurrence like it was yesterday, as he sat across from you.

You were still looking down at your cup in blissful unawareness of his inner turmoil and life that he’s lived thus far. You definitely were not dense enough to not notice his gaze on your skin, but you were definitely ignorant of the fact that he was thinking about what would happen if he could just get you to move a few feet to the right to gain cover from the direct line of the sun. He just needed to get you into the shadows.

“Y/N,” He called your name. You instantly looked up in response. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” You teased him back with his own words. He let a small smile thin his lips before he looked down to hide it. When you followed his gaze and noticed that he didn’t have a drink, you jumped to the opportunity.

“Can I buy you a drink, Min Yoongi?” You asked him.

“Oh, I’m not particularly craving coffee at the moment.” He paused and held his breath, as if trying to find the words to say. “I just like to sit here sometimes and enjoy watching the street.”

“Well,” Ask him! Ask him out! Yes! Do it! Your head screamed at you to be confident. You knew he was the shy type; you would be waiting all day for him to make a move and you just didn’t have the time nor patience for that. “Let me get you a drink at my bar?”

The man looked mildly impressed for a moment. “You own a bar?”

“A small one.” You swiftly added. “It’s not a big popular one or anything but I didn’t want a place too big. I like the smaller things.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile. You were a kind and beautiful woman living a simple life. He dreaded the moment that he was going to have to kill you.

“I take it you’re pretty well off then?” He asks. “And please don’t take this as me digging around. I’m just curious.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yeah, actually.” You laughed and sat back in your chair, looking out the window onto the street as people and cars passed by. “I’ve always been pretty lucky for some reason. The gods always seem to be in my favor and give me what I want.”

Yoongi smirked for a moment. If she wants me, she can have me. Then, I’ll have her.

When Yoongi found himself in the prime position to attack you in your kitchen, several weeks later, he knew. He finally had you where he wanted you.

A handful of dates that he found quite pleasant were all it took. 

You turned out to be just what he thought- a strangely attractive and alluring woman, the scent of your blood aside. You exhumed an odd magnetism about you that Yoongi had never felt from a human. He regretted the decision of waiting so long to kill you seeing as he was considering letting you live. But he knew that he couldn’t do that.

With your back turned to him, busying yourself with dinner, he could easily snap your neck so that you wouldn’t scream and struggle- and you would be dead almost instantly. A quick and nearly painless death was what you deserved. He didn’t want you to suffer at all.

However, just as he crouched in preparation to lunge at you, you spoke.

“Are you ready for dinner, babe?” You asked him.

He smiled devilishly, venom filling his mouth as he salivated. “Yes, I am. I’m starving.”

You chuckled. “Okay.”

“Go and sit down at the table.”

It was the most simple of commands. Telling Yoongi to sit down wasn’t an order. You weren’t demanding him to do it. You never demanded anything of him. It was a mere suggestion in your eyes.

Yet Yoongi felt his body moving to the dinner table without a second thought, unable to resist obeying your words.

What in the everliving fuck.

He sat quickly, impotent to move from his spot while he waited for you to bring the food from the counter. His thirst obliterated his throat, causing it to seize up and restrict any air that he could previously breathe, but he sat in wonder as you seemed to hold power over him that he had never felt before.

You turned with both of your dinner plates in hand and he quickly smothered the panic on his face, wondering what in the world had just happened.

“I’m not at all a chef, but you better eat everything.” Yoongi tested your words, seeing if the inclination to finish your food was present, only to find a slight mental nudge- as he expected. You didn’t tell him to do anything; you merely made an ‘or else’ statement.

No longer desperate to kill you for the time being, Yoongi sat still and waited for your next words. Once you sat the plate in front of him, you uttered a joke.

“Dig in.”

And dig in Yoongi did. He picked up his fork and scooped into the pasta you made without any willingness to deny you.

The pasta wasn’t fantastic in any sort of the word- It was plain, although it could be due to the fact that it wasn’t at all what he truly craved and needed. It was like eating a piece of stale bread while he was offered a perfectly cooked and outright juicy steak on a silver platter. The food that he ate wouldn’t be consumed by his body and used for nutrients; the shi in his stomach would burn it to nothingness within the next few hours.

Uncontrollably, Yoongi shoved mouthful after mouthful into his mouth- he couldn’t stop. Once he finished chewing one bite, his hand was immediately bringing him another, and then another. Despite lacking the need to breathe, Yoongi felt himself suffocating with each bite as the realization that he could do nothing except eat his food settled in his mind.

“I see you were hungry.” You laughed, unaware of his predicament. Yoongi’s eyes shot up to yours and silently hoped you would give him another command so that he could stop the foolishness.

You, however, just sat there feeling sort of proud of yourself- not only for making an edible meal, but for making one Yoongi seemed to enjoy. Even though it was slightly shocking to see him out of his usually cool character, acting like a man suffering from hunger, you couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.

Eating slowly while watching him, you let your feelings for him come to the surface.

Yoongi was utterly beautiful. His black hair that fell over his face while he was cleaning up the last bits of his plate was just long enough to cover his eyes, yet as he looked at you without reservation, you felt he had a clear line of sight straight into your soul.

His skin was nearly flawless save for the light and narrow scar that cut into his right eye. Others found the scar intimidating and ugly, but you found it rather attractive. Yoongi, with his uncanny physical allure, was undeniably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Your body was alight with joy and content. In the few weeks that you got to know him, liking him was incredibly easy and having him in your home, in a domestic setting, lit your heart on fire with the possibility of falling in love with him.

He was incredibly easy to love, you discovered. Everything about him begged you to fall for him. As if the universe created him just for you, Min Yoongi was the epitome of perfection- in your eyes, anyway.

Briefly, you had shown a photo of him to your mother. She became unsettled instantly by his appearance.

“He’s so pale. And a little scary-looking.” She squinted at the photo you took of him when he wasn’t looking. You never brought him up again to your mother, disliking the fact that she didn’t like your potential boyfriend and found him scary.

The picture just happened to be your favorite- being because he didn’t like pictures and it was the only one you had of him.

He kindly asked you to not take photos of him. When you prompted him as to why during one of your more intimate moments at your bar, he only answered playfully as he held you close to him, lips begging for you to kiss them.

“Because I don’t want to leave evidence.” He whispered, breath tickling your nose. His body was warm and sturdy, muscles rippling under your touch as you clung to his shoulders.

“Evidence from what?” You asked breathily. The heat in your panties had increased tenfold over the last few minutes as his eyes grew hungrier with want. Yoongi’s fingers dug into your waist painfully, pulling you so close that you barely had room to expand your lungs to breathe, yet you couldn’t help the edgy feeling of how rough he could be with you.

“From when I eat you up.”

Thinking back on the memory, you shivered involuntarily, hoping that tonight might be the night you actually get to have him. He’d made you wait for a little over a month and you had no idea why. You definitely felt him straining through his pants a few times. But no kisses or anything further than the pressing of your bodies was accomplished.

Yoongi finished his plate and sat upright briskly, pulling you from your wishful thinking with a jump.

“Y/N,” He nearly growled, shocking you. “What else do you want me to do?”

The fork you were holding clattered to your plate instantly. Wow. He’s sizzling hot.

“I-“ You stuttered a bit. “I- uh.”

“Spit it out.” He hissed. You jumped again, trying to find the words to say with the heat growing in your panties.

Quickly, you answered him. “I want you to take me to my bedroom.”

“Thank god.” He groaned, getting up slowly with a smirk on his face. “Is that just a request? Because I can walk out now if you don’t actually want this.”

“Take me to my bedroom, Yoongi.” You stood slowly, carefully, as if you were afraid to trigger him.

Yoongi pushed in his chair and moved towards you at a speed that was almost inhuman. You yelped in astonishment as Yoongi attempted to control himself- he couldn’t bring you to your bedroom at his natural speed or else he would have a very motion-sick human to worry about. Instead, he trembled with the effort to resist your command at full force, knowing that the only way it was possible was due to the fact that he was still, in fact, taking you to your bedroom.

Picking you up was easier than breathing. You weighed absolutely nothing in his arms because of his advanced strength, so when he felt you trying to assist him in carrying you by holding your body stiffly, he huffed out a laugh whilst he walked.

“Relax, woman. You are as light as a feather.”

You blushed under his words, leaning into his chest to hide your cheeks.

“Stop that.” He growled, entering your bedroom. You looked up at him and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood that rushed to your cheeks. “I can’t resist if you do that.”

“Then don’t.” You whispered. Your heart pounded in your chest, begging him to hear it. “Don’t resist.”

His fangs came forth immediately, for he could not resist your command while he flew to your bed to throw you down. Despite your unknowing of what you were telling him to do, he fostered no opposition to what he was about to do.

The roughness of his throw startled you for a moment as you looked up at his vastly approaching figure, only to grow terrified when you caught sight of his face.

The veins protruding out of his temples and cheeks pumped blood straight into the whites of his eyes, turning them completely bloodshot, as they framed the now-crimson irises. Long incisors protruded from his mouth as he opened it with a hiss, revealing the way his human teeth shifted apart to allow his inhuman ones to break through the gums. Instantly, you parted your lips to scream.

Yoongi was upon you instantly, hand covering your mouth and silencing your cry while he snarled menacingly, yet he couldn’t help but feel remorse for killing you.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered through his animalistic demeanor. “I can’t stop.”

You were screaming below his hand and, instantaneously, he had an idea.

He was leaning forward slowly, able to slow himself in the process of not resisting you. “Y/N,” He strained, changing the frequency of his talent, and waited for you to silence yourself in order to listen to him. He took his hand off of your mouth slowly after he heard your heart calm itself past your weeping. “Tell me to stop.”

“Stop!” You sobbed whilst clawing at his chest and kicking at his legs. “Don’t kill me!”

Not a second passed before Yoongi flew off of you, throwing his back to your wall with a loud thud while he cursed lowly.

You scrambled to the headboard of your bed, pressing your back against it in an attempt to gain some distance between the two of you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving with your breath short, as you looked at the man in front of you.

“I-“ Yoongi stuttered for the first time in decades. “I’m sorry.”

“Your eyes!” Your burst out. You were unable to contain your fear and shock, so you displaced it into your curiosity. “Y-your- Your face! Your teeth!”

Yoongi stood against the wall, breathing just as hard as you, with his eyes cast to the floor in the process of trying to control his facial features. He could no longer kill you. The thought revolted him- every time he considered drinking your blood, the idea was banished from his mind with a sense of nausea following. Good god. She is unaware of her ability yet I am completely at her mercy.

“I apologize. I couldn’t help myself.” He breathed. What Yoongi forgot to take into account was the fact that he began implementing the gift of his second life on you the moment he stepped foot through your threshold, so your mind was completely scrambled by this point.

It was nighttime now; he could not leave your house no matter how hard he tried. He knew of the fallacy that vampires needed to be invited in and he found himself giggling from time to time at how close humans got to the actual lore of his kind.

He could enter your house, uninvited, during the day. He could lurk every corner of your abode without a bother, yet when night fell and the sun finally set, he would be stuck inside until morning. He knew he would be staying the night in your house the moment he agreed to have dinner with you. If he attempted to enter through your door during the night, however, he would have no luck- the night’s protection would convince his brain to walk away from your home without any further reconsideration until he was a good distance from it.

He was in the first position now.

He wished that he could leave you and disappear from your life without a trace so that you could live a peaceful and happy life without him, but he was afraid that it was impossible now with sundown a mere two hours prior. Your powers were no match for the natural protection of the earth. The both of you had a long night ahead of yourselves.

So he used his ability. Yoongi gave you control- rational thought, rather. His gift allowed him to grant organization of the mind and precise focus to others, but he could also take it away.

Upon entering your home, he began the process of slowly but surely ebbing away your barriers and logical thought- he couldn’t do it too fast or else you would panic like you were now. With a presently impossible-to-kill human whose heart was beating out of her chest and a command to not kill you forcing him into submission, he was obligated to prevent you from having a heart attack that was caused by him.

With laser-like focus, he channeled his gift straight into your open mind. Yoongi rebuilt the walls he had previously broken down over the past few hours, restocked your jumbled thoughts into their proper spaces, and flowed his energy through each corridor of judicious conception so that you could continue to develop your focus into that of supernatural proportion. He hoped that you, with a new mind, would tell him to get away from you and to kill himself. Dying by the hands of such a robust ability wouldn’t be too bad of a way to go.

You, however, never had such a decisive mind. Your mind was never clearer and you had never felt such clarity in your thoughts before. It allowed you to feel the magnetism that he radiated.

You knew he was a vampire. You don’t remember how you knew or how you recognized it, but you knew that he was not the first of his kind you had come across. Maybe it was the obvious fangs that gave it away.

“Yoongi,” You whispered. “You’re a vampire.”

His eyes, now back to their normal gorgeously coffee-bean shade, flicked up to yours in surprise.

“You know what I am?” He spluttered, flabbergasted. “You don’t think I’m a demon? Or the devil?”

“I’m not stupid. I know a vampire when I see one.” Your tone did not waver nor shake despite being a potential victim to a vampire. Was it the adrenaline?

“Then you know that I am a danger to you.” He said lowly, shock still evident on his face, while he began gravitating towards your bedroom door to leave.

“No. Stay.” You found yourself pining for his presence while he froze up in his spot. You eyed the action analytically. “If you were a danger to me, I wouldn’t be alive right now. You had plenty opportunity to kill me.”

“That’s the thing,” His hands pressed to the wall and scratched into it with the effort to move further from you. “I don’t have much of a choice anymore.”

“And why is that?” You relaxed your body and slowly slid your way across the bed towards him.

“Because I can’t.” Yoongi actually gasped for air as you stood from your bed to slowly approach him. “Y/N. Don’t come near me.”

“Why don’t you have a choice?” You ignored his warning, fully aware of the risk you were taking yet uncaring of the consequences. You were too focused on the fact that you actually wanted him.

Yoongi could not move from his spot, a side effect of your command to stay, but he refused to meet your eyes. The irresistible scent of your blood clashing with the order to not kill you fucked with his mind in ways he never experienced, creating an excruciatingly splitting headache between his temples. He wanted to drink from you so bad yet he could not move a single muscle.

“You can tell me to do anything. You can tell me to stay away from you. You can tell me to leave you alone. Hell, you can tell me to kill myself and I’d do it.” He ground out, attempting to press his back further into the wall as he felt your body heat against his skin. You came too close. He could smell your hormones lacing through your blood, triggering a wash of his shi over his dry tongue and a yearning to tear you apart overriding his senses.

He wanted to sink his fangs into your flesh so badly that he was beginning to scare himself. Allowing his venom to seep into your system would undoubtedly send you into ecstasy; you would only feel a pinch of pain as his saliva instantly burned through your nerves and set them alight. He could kill you while you were in pleasure; you wouldn’t feel anything but bliss as he drained the life from you.

“And why do you, a powerful creature such as yourself, allow me to have this power over you?” You asked. Was he in love with you? You definitely could love the man with how much you felt drawn to him but, for crying out loud, it had only been a few weeks.

“I don’t allow it. You are a gifted human. You possess this power over me.” Although Yoongi enjoyed having a calm conversation with you, he couldn’t help but feel bad that he used his gift on you. It was almost an unfair playing card- a “get-out-of-jail” card.

Because you should be running, terrified and screaming, even with his ability active in your mind. Maybe he had used it too much? Yoongi recalled the one time he went overboard with his gift, driving a man to suicide as he focused too much on the meaning of life and the regretful things he had done. Immediately concerned, Yoongi reached out a mental tether- a rare talent amongst his kind- to gauge your stability.

What he found, instead, was a dark and curling line attaching to his, pulling it in as quickly as Yoongi offered it. Before he could reel back away from it, it was fully intertwined and pulling his line to attach to you, only to rear back and completely obliterate his senses when it entered his head.

No. No no no. It’s impossible.

Yoongi was moving forward and caging you against the bed at full speed before he could stop himself, nestling his body between your eagerly opening legs as a hiss escaped his lips. Immediately, he realized that he broke through your command unwavered. The thirst came back at full force when you moaned from the friction on your heat.

“You’re-“ He tested the sensation of true, sexual arousal with a slow grind of himself into you, gasping with a jerk of his dick when his action squeezed his member between his body and yours. “You’re my-“

You moaned again, sitting up slightly to try and capture his lips with your own, unable to control the desire that surmounted in your heart. When he resumed his look of shock, backing away from your advance so that he could look at where your bodies touched, you spoke through the heady emotion. “I’m your what?”

“It can’t be.” He whispered. After a single beat, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours with a crushing pressure that split your lip instantly.

The pain seared across your bottom lip and distracted you for a moment, emitting a groan deep in your throat that he matched when the taste of your blood exploded onto his tastebuds. Instead of swallowing it like he wanted to, he brought a hand to your chin and opened your lips to spit your blood, along with his venom, back into your mouth so that it would take your pain away.

For a moment, you held the mix of liquids on your tongue, unsure of what to do as no one had ever spit in your mouth before. You looked up to him with confusion extremely evident in your arched brows.

“Swallow it.” He growled.

The taste of iron and an almost sugary sweet tang of saliva was too strong for you to keep sitting on your tongue, so you did as he told you to before he kissed you again to repeat the same action. Slowly, you got into the rhythm of swallowing what he gave you.

Before long, he simply gave you his tongue, allowing you to suck the saliva from his mouth greedily. You didn’t understand why, but the taste was addicting and adding to the pulsing feeling that radiated between your legs. Were you getting lightheaded? No. This sensation was much more blissful and exciting.

He pulled away after sucking on your wounded lip once more, spitting the mixture into your awaiting mouth for a final time before sitting up to look down at your body.

His venom was already taking effect. He could smell it on your skin as it flowed through your veins and filled your system just like a virus would. It would be simple to turn you at this point. You would be his for eternity, bonded to him in ways only the Fated One of a vampire would. Yoongi shook the thought from his head as he wasn’t even sure that you were, indeed, his.

“What am I to you?” You asked genuinely, swollen lip slightly obstructing your speech.

“Don’t worry about that right now, Y/N. Right now, I am going to fuck you, okay?” He met your gaze with his dark eyes filled with confidence, knowing that you would be unable to deny him if his belief was true.

“Yes. Yes, please Yoongi.” You breathed, begging him almost drunkenly. “Please. I’m yours.”

His mind was nudged forward by a different force this time, warranting unknown instincts to play into action.

He felt his center of gravity shift. His skin grew tight and uncomfortable around his body from the emotion that wished to burst through the surface. He breathed with you. Perfectly aligned were your rhythms; his heart soared alongside your own galloping one, desperate to match you in every aspect. The sensations in his body were difficult to ignore as he felt the ancient and sacred pull of a bond lacing itself through his limbs.

Instead of pondering over the reality of it any further, he slid his hand from your chin to your shirt and pinched the fabric between his fingers. You nodded in reassurance.

Your clothes tore form your body like paper. Wrapping his fingers around your arm to keep your body in place, Yoongi ripped your thin blouse from you easily. Your breasts, made plump by the bra you wore, caught his attention the moment they were revealed. Perfect.

Instead of looking like a moron seeing exquisite breasts for the first time, he moved his hand to your dress pants so that he could rid your body of them. In under ten seconds, Yoongi had you almost bare below him. Perfect.

Not even realizing it until you brought your thumb to his lips to swipe his shi from the corner of his mouth, Yoongi shook his head at the fact that the sight of you wriggling and bare-skinned beneath him made him literally drool, but his instincts went haywire when he watched you place your thumb in your mouth to suck his venom off yourself with a low moan of appreciation at the taste.

Yoongi’s hands couldn’t move faster as he tore the clothes from his body, stripping himself bare to reveal himself to you. He wanted to give you everything. To open his mind and spread everything out for you to see- he hoped you could handle it.

You, on the other hand, were laying below him with the desperate need to have him inside you.

You wanted him everywhere. You wanted him to sink himself into you- it seemed to be the only fathomable option. You wanted him to hold you and kiss you and surround you with everything him.

As you stared up at him with a needy look in your eyes, you couldn’t help but want him in every facet possible.

You saw yourself making love to him, holding him, kissing him- loving him. The new sensation brought on you by the psychic connection- that was all you could call it when you felt the mental attachment- brung passionate emotions through your body in an onslaught that you could barely handle. It was too much to deal with without him inside you to be with you through it yet you didn’t know if you could handle what would follow.

Yoongi could smell you through your panties; a delicious scent of the most raw tease he had ever allowed himself to indulge in. Unable to help himself, he moved down your body quickly, throwing your legs open- rather roughly- to give himself room to press his nose straight into your heat. Your aroma filled his nose as he expanded his lungs, triggering his natural instincts to push out his fangs and load his vision with blood to enhance it despite his eyes being closed. Fuck, he wanted to consume you.

You keened at the contact, closing your thighs around his head to trap him there. You felt his groan vibrate on you, driving you closer to the brink of insanity.

Without any further time wasted, he grabbed onto your panties and ripped them from you to expose your pulsating pussy to his mouth without moving his nose away from your intoxicating scent. Not a beat passed before he dug his tongue into you to scoop up your DNA-laced juices. Fuck.

Yoongi lost himself in you immediately. You whined out a small cry, unable to keep yourself from grabbing onto his hair and yanking when all you felt were his lips and tongue laving over your opening relentlessly. There was no skill nor technique in his movements; he was simply devouring you without a mind to pay attention to your bundle, yet you couldn’t stop the sensitivity from boggling your mind and driving you to an instant orgasm.

His hands squeezed your thighs around his head and, for a brief moment, he opened his eyes to look at you. The color of his eyes staring back at you was unexpected- a solid, snow white color filled his orbs and contrasted starkly with the red hue of his engorged veins and bloodshot scleras.

“Yoongi,” You whimpered from another swipe of his tongue and suck from his lips. “Y-Your eyes.”

He pulled away from you instantly at the comment, eyes widening and wet mouth hanging agape, while you let out a groan of relief- or sadness- at the lack of attention to your incredibly sensitive core.

“What color are they?” He asked.

“White.” You struggled to speak, voice cracking under the post-orgasm glow.

He took a moment to look down at your heaving body and messy pussy, jerking forward slightly at the sight of your delicious juice smeared all over your thighs. Once he had a handle on his thirst again, Yoongi met your eyes as the white faded from his irises. “Then you are her.”

“I’m who?” You reached for him, needing to hold him anywhere you could get your hands on. Yoongi caught this action immediately, the same desire to grasp you evident in his hand rushing to meet yours. It was natural to intertwine your fingers while he leaned over you to press his lips to yours in a short, uncharacteristically loving kiss.

“You are my Fated One- my mate. You hold my soul in the palm of your hand, as I do yours.” He murmured, feathering his lips over yours as he spoke.

Under normal circumstances, you don’t think you’d be able to comprehend his words with your current position with him. You were exposed to him and he was exposed to you, making you feel vulnerable and turned on beyond belief. Yoongi was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra while you took in what he had said. His thumb was brushing over your bare nipple before your bra even hit the floor.

“So-” You had to clear your throat again. “So you’re mine? Like, completely?”

He chuckled warmly at your question and you couldn’t stop yourself from reciprocating the smile.

“Yes, Y/N, I am yours.” He brought his hand down to grip your thigh and move it to the side. “I belong to you.”

Yoongi placed his dick against your folds and you watched him so do. You felt his tip capture onto your clit several times as he lathered it with your arousal languidly, preparing himself so that he could slide into you easier. “However,”

“However?” You looked up at him with a questioning look accentuated by your eyebrows.

“You are also mine.” Yoongi stopped his movement so that the head of his cock finally caught onto your opening, kickstarting your heart into a pace that you were afraid would kill you. “Do you understand that?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

Torturously, he began to push inside you. You widened your legs to accompany his approaching hips. As you warbled out a cry when he decided to drop his control and fill you completely in the next second, Yoongi began speaking again.

“Do you understand that everything about you,” He reared back and pushed inside you again, forcing your legs open to take him while he did so. “-is mine?”

You couldn’t respond. Your emotions were running rampant with your mind overflowing from too much stimuli while he fucked you. He spoke again without your reply and you could only pull him closer to you and take the feeling of his cock caressing your insides.

“Your lips,” Thrust. “your eyes,” Thrust. “your hair, your hands, your skin;” He punctuated each part of your body with a ram of his dick into you. “Everything, Y/N.”

Yoongi took a moment to look down at your joining bodies, smirking softly at the sight of how easily he slid inside. “-Especially this greedy little cunt of yours.”

You watched his smirk drop while he bit his lip and ground himself into you, lips parting again with a low moan whilst keeping his gaze transfixed on the sinful sight. You watched him in awe as his cock plunged so deep that it felt like it was in your throat.

He snapped his eyes to yours quickly, repeating his prior question. “Do you understand?”

Expecting to be interrupted by a thrust, you sucked your bottom lip in your mouth and braced yourself, only to be grabbed by the neck while he leaned down to bring you face-to-face. You could no longer breathe as he pulled his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I asked you if you understood, Y/N.”

With your airway restricted, you could only nod with your lip still stuck between your teeth. Did you taste blood? Promptly, you remembered that Yoongi busted your lip, yet you were confused as to why you hadn’t felt the pain of it since he first kissed you.

“And are you okay with that?” Yoongi began to nose his way down your neck once he turned your head to the side and slowed the rhythm of his hips. Right before you could answer, he released your neck to look at your face, allowing a large rush of air to enter your lungs just as you were attempting to give him an answer.

“Yes!” You released your lip to scream out at the welcome sensation of oxygen and the feel of his dick pushing it right back out of you. “I’m yours! Everything is yours!”

“Good, my love. Good.” He whispered, smiling down at you. His smile was wiped clean off his face in a heartbeat, his thrusts into you completely ceased, as he zeroed in on your lips. You licked them subconsciously, immediately tasting blood and internally cringing at the flavor of iron coating your tongue.

Yoongi attached his lips around your bottom one quickly and you felt him suck it into his mouth. Your walls squeezed tightly around his at the sensation of his tongue swiping over the spli in your engorged lip again and again. You knew that your lip would be swollen yet you couldn’t find yourself to care because it, surprisingly, didn’t hurt at all. The small bits of Yoongi’s saliva that slipped into your mouth were enough to keep you on edge, tasting like raw sugar at that point.

He began moving inside you again, starting a slow and steady pace. You whimpered into his mouth as he began taking his fill of your blood and you mirrored his thirst with the need to taste his mouth again. Your lips pressed closer to his in order to, hopefully, get a bit more of his spit.

You felt your orgasm building laggardly. It was creeping in at a speed that you were able to prepare yourself for your ascent towards ecstasy. You tightened your legs around his waist and dug your heels into the globes of his ass, pulling him in.

It wasn’t until you were bordering on your climax that Yoongi pulled away from your lip with your pop and sat up to focus on fucking you, his peace of mind obviously waning.

You saw it in his face; you saw the way he couldn’t control his veins from darkening his face; you saw the way his eyes burned white and the way he was attempting to hold himself back from attacking you.

So you did him a favor.

“Yoongi.” You mumbled past your swollen lip. “Bite me.”

Min Yoongi had no option but to obey your command.

He surged forward, pressing himself against your clit deliciously and bottoming out as he lunged for your neck with his fangs fully protruded and a warbled hiss scratching its way out of his throat. With barely enough time to prepare, you bared your neck to him once more and clutched onto his arms for dear life, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too bad.

What you weren’t expecting was for it to feel unreservedly good.

The sensation took you by surprise, warranting a loud moan to escape from your lips before you could stop it. Why did his fangs feel so good in your flesh? It should definitely be hurting. But all you could do was moan and whine like a madwoman as you felt his lips close over the puncture wounds and begin to drink your blood straight from your flesh. His tongue continuously swiped over the teeth marks in your neck, keeping them clear from your body’s natural ability to scar itself and begin blocking the escaping blood. Every lick he delivered sent a pulse straight to your clit and an automatic instinct to tighten yourself around him.

Your pussy quivered around him uncontrollably. You were so close to cumming that you could practically taste the release on your tongue. In the few moments that Yoongi took his sips from your body, his slow propulsions forward into you had become more rough and insistent- as if he was trying to split you in two. Even as you felt your life essence leave your body, you were being filled time and time again by his cock at a deep and passionate rhythm.

At the first sign of getting lightheaded from blood loss, you came- hard.

Your juices squirted around him every time he reared himself back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you craned your neck back into your very-bloody pillow. With no where to go, unable to still him with his supernatural strength, you were only able scream out his name.

His speed increased through your orgasm and your sweet exclamations of pure bliss drove Yoongi into a lunatic, freeing himself of control and using his uncanny speed to fuck into you. Your extremely drenched pussy, still convulsing around him was battered and raw, yet he could not find it in himself to care as he desperately surged into you over and over again so that he could fill you with the cum of several centuries. Picturing the image of your cunt spewing his release from it had him closing his jaws and pulling on your wounds harder to get more blood from you.

He knew that he couldn’t drain you. Hearing the pulse of your heart weaken slightly was enough to make him detach his teeth and lick over your wound so that his shi could assist it in healing- it would be completely sealed and unblemished in the next few hours. Instead of worrying too much about your neck, he reared back to look down at you again while he grabbed onto your hips with fervor.

You saw the drops of blood running down from Yoongi’s mouth and chin drip onto your breasts and stomach, creating an erotic and utterly unwholesome image of carnage and horror on your body, but you were unable to help yourself in feeling unsettlingly drawn to the wicked image. With a new flash of desire exploding through your body and reawakening your lust, you reached up and grabbed his neck, pulling him back down to trap him in your embrace.

The oversensitivity of your last orgasm was enough to send you hurtling to the edge of another orgasm- You just needed his fangs in you one more time. Silently begging for it, you kept your grip on his nape and softly nudged him back in the direction of your neck.

Yoongi was close. You could tell. But even past his stupor, he spoke.

“Y/N. I can’t. I took too much.” He almost whined with need, struggling to form words past his fangs.

“Just-“ Your body jolted wildly as he desperately tried to cum. “Just do it!”

Yoongi was able to deny your command, which he figured was due to not being a specific one, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave it unanswered as his body built in preparation to release.

“I fucking can’t!” He was close to roaring at this point, gums aching to meet your flesh as he pressed his fangs into you and filled you with his essence. He wanted to so badly.

“Drink from me, dammit!” Your eyes were welling with tears of frustration, needing that small push from him to make you orgasm again- his dick hammering your cervix was too much to handle without that small bit of pain to ground you. And without hesitation nor the choice to deny you, he did.

Your orgasms were perfectly in sync as he placed his fangs back into your wounds, delicious blood spilling across his tongue once again. Liquid life. It was the perfect few words for how you tasted.

Your pussy ached with the force of how tight you squeezed around him and Yoongi groaned lowly against your neck as he pressed himself so tightly to you that you knew his hands would be leaving bruises on your hips and ass.

“Yoongi.” You sobbed as his cum filled you, pulsing spurt after warm spurt of the hot liquid onto your abused cervix. The thought of him taking your blood while he gave you his cum was too sinful for you to bear, an outburst of emotion causing you to chant his name over and over again. Never before in your life had you felt so complete and free.

You could feel your blood levels draining as you slowly came down from your climax, knowing that you would not be awake for much longer if he kept drinking.

“That’s enough.” You whispered tiredly, head becoming truly lightheaded. Yoongi, unable to rescind his teeth from your neck, kept drinking from you as the thirst and aggression of the first mating actuated his movements. “Yoongi.”

He tried to pull away- he really did- but the feeling of your blood coating his tastebuds was like finding a quarry in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He lacked the true thirst for humans for thousands of years- and now he was suffering the polydipsia for blood all over again.

“Yoongi, stop.” You commanded, testing your supposed ‘power.’

Yoongi ceased to drink from you yet his fangs were still embedded in your skin, vibrating with pleasure and need. As he stopped, he couldn’t help but whine and then growl savagely with want. The vibration of of his throaty sound in your flesh did things to your body. Unable to resist the temptation, your body clenched involuntarily around his softening cock.

Yoongi groaned again, retracting his fangs and face from your neck, and sat up once more to look at your body. With a slow hand, he stuck out his index and middle finger to smear the droplets of blood on your stomach in small circles aimlessly, picturing you as a canvas made just for him to ruin. “You’re quite the minx, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” You giggled deliriously, needing sleep as soon as possible.

“I mean,” Yoongi reached down to smear a droplet of blood across your hip before digging his thumb and fingers into the bone and the flesh of your ass harshly. “Your cunt is playing games with me right now.”

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side in mock confusion.

The vampire pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed almost disdainfully. You gasped as you felt his dick jerk within you, filling to stiffness once more and awakening a new cloud of lust despite the exhaustion you felt. “Well, if you want to play clueless, you can play clueless. We have eternity to teach you how to not play games with me, my mate.”

For eternity? You kind of liked the sound of that.

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!

[shihalyfie]

Adventure and 02 birthday scouting

We don’t have canonical birth dates for any of the Adventure or 02 kids, and this is by design, due to a desire to prevent the characters from getting forced into certain personality types thanks to horoscoping (it’s why they don’t have blood types either). Perhaps also for that reason, for as much as we as the fanbase like using references to the kids’ ages for the sake of convenience, in actuality, official material rarely gives out explicit ages for the Adventure characters, usually giving you only their school grade level. Only Miyako (who was based off a real person, and therefore wouldn’t have this problem if a real person with her personality existed) was allowed to be an exception via her star sign and blood type being revealed in 02 episode 25, but any specifics of that have been forgotten.

We do have a few “clues” on some rough areas a handful of birthdays might fall on, not nearly enough to pin down a horoscope, but still vaguely there; that said, they require a lot of squinting, and some of the sources relied on aren’t entirely reliable (while the Animation Chronicle was clearly based off staff reference notes, it also infamously has a ton of typos). However, it does seem like the staff paid an abnormal amount of attention to portraying realistic variances in ages (maybe more so than we should logically expect), with details like Ken and Osamu being either three or two years apart depending on specific periods of time. 02 is a very strange series where attention to detail is paid to unusual places in ways that often make it really hard to pinpoint what’s intentional and what’s not, and it certainly isn’t the kind of series where you can really chalk up that many things to “negligence” all that easily, but considering the uncertainty of said sources of information, take it as you will.

(Also, as far as horoscopes go, you’re still encouraged to come up with your own for fanwork purposes if you like; it’s just that official isn’t going to confirm it for you. There is, after all, a huge difference between officially sanctioning horoscopes versus having the fans do it -- it’s just important to keep in mind that if you’re having a hard time figuring it out within the known constraints, the fact it was deliberately designed to be difficult is probably a good explanation why.)

Adventure takes place during August 1-3 of 1999, whereas 02 takes place between April and December 2002. It’s perhaps for this reason that 02′s profiles are much more lenient about giving explicit ages, since it’s much harder to pinpoint potential birthdays over the length of time 02 spanned. Since the Japanese school year turns over in April, assumptions about relative ages will be made with that as a baseline.

Taichi: Taichi being a fifth-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 makes him likely 10-11 during that time; being a 14-year-old eighth-grader during 02 (which spans from April to December 2002) sets him as born between April and December 1988.

Yamato: Same as above; being a fifth-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 and a 14-year-old eighth-grader during 02 makes him likely 10-11 during Adventure, and born between April and December 1988.

Sora: She was a fifth-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 (10-11), and Our War Game! sets her birthday as March 1989, since Taichi got her the hairpin as a birthday present. However, if we assume it’s not an arbitrary detail or a typo, the Animation Chronicle, which is based off staff notes, refers to her as a 14-year-old eighth-grader during 02, which only spans from April to December and therefore puts her birthday as between April and December 1988, which would be a contradiction with the above. Since setting her birthday in late February or early March like in Our War Game! would pretty distinctly set her as a Pisces and thus violate the policy of wanting to avoid horoscoping, this is probably why Kakudou confirmed on Twitter that the portrayal of Sora’s birthday in the movie happened because he wasn’t involved with it (i.e. if it had happened under the usual TV anime staff, this wouldn’t have happened), and it’s also presumably why he went as far as to isolate the birthday issue in his notes on the Digimon theatrical movies and lack of lore compliance, because, well, even if it is a tiny thing like this, it technically is a contradiction. (This is where we probably have to invoke the loose position of so-called canon in order to make a decision about this.)

Koushirou: Being a fourth-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 makes him likely 9-10 during that time, and him being a 13-year-old seventh-grader during 02, means that he was likely born between April and December 1989.

Mimi: Likewise, being a fourth-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 makes her likely 9-10 during that time, and being 13 years old during 02 makes her likely born between April and December 1989. She’s referred to as being “in seventh grade” in said profile, but she’s moved to New York, meaning she’d be under the American school system, which starts in August-September. Assuming she was put in an appropriate school year relative to her age, if her birthday is before August-September, that means she would be in American seventh grade until then and eighth grade for the rest of the year, but if her birthday is August-September or later, she would be in American sixth grade until then and seventh grade for the rest of the year.

Jou: As a sixth-grader in August 1-3 of 1999, Jou would be 11-12, and according to the novels and Adventure episode 35 he’s 11, making his birthday likely after August. He’s also a 15-year-old eighth-grader during 02, which doesn’t contradict this either, and the range of time 02 spans narrows this down to between August and December 1987 (other than the issue with Sora, probably the narrowest range of time for any of the Adventure group -- remember that August corresponded with episode 17 in 02, so even such a “late” birthday could still correspond to more than half the series).

Takeru: Being a second-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 makes him likely 7-8 during that time, and being a fifth-grader during 02 meant that he was likely 10-11 for the duration of it; therefore, born between April 1991 and April 1992. Notably, we don’t have any hard confirmation of Takeru being any specific age at any point, which is why the range is so large, and why it’s possible for him to have a birthday that rolls all the way past December.

Hikari: Like Takeru, being a second-grader in August 1-3 of 1999 makes her likely 7-8 during that time, and she was 11 years old at the time of 02, thus born between April and December 1991. The Animation Chronicle adds that she was also three years old at the time of the Hikarigaoka incident in 1995, but we don’t know when the Hikarigaoka incident was exactly, so it doesn’t help us much there.

Daisuke: 11 years old at the time of 02, but 7 at the time of Adventure, meaning his birthday is likely after August 3. Given that he’s a fifth-grader at the time of 02, that would make his birthday between August and December 1991.

Ken: 11 years old at the time of 02, and a fifth grader. 9 years old at the time of August 2000, meaning that his birthday is likely on or before August. Given his school year, that places his birthday as between April and August 1991. (Which means that, yes, Ken is heavily likely to be older than Daisuke, although there’s some leeway in August.) This is supported by the fact that official profiles also refer to Ken as 11 years old during his time as the Kaiser, which spanned between April and approximately August 2002, and, moreover, the internal suggestion that Ken should already be 10 even during the early parts of 2001.

Because Ken was 4 and Osamu 7 during the “bubbles” flashback, but Osamu was 11 years old and a fifth-grader at the time of August 2000 (as per design sheets), this means that Ken and Osamu are more than exactly two years separated in age (the Animation Chronicle refers to them as “three years separated”, which is probably rounding up). Osamu’s birthday is likely between April and August 1989 (same school year as Koushirou and Mimi), and at an earlier month than Ken’s.

Miyako: As stated above, on top of being said to be twelve years old and in sixth grade, she was the only one allowed to get a canonical star sign, which is Gemini (02 episode 25), placing her birthday as between May 22 and June 21, 1990 (which also means that she had her birthday sometime around or between 02 episodes 8 and 13).

Iori: Given that he was 5 at the time of Adventure and a 9-year-old third-grader at the time of 02, his birthday is likely between August and December 1993 (similar logic to Daisuke).

Bonus round: Wallace is directly stated to be 11 years old in profiles for Hurricane Touchdown, which takes place during the summer of 2002. Given Wallace’s actions during the movie, it’s likely this takes place during summer break, meaning that, via the American school system, unless he’s about to have a last-minute birthday before the start of the school year, he’s likely about to enter American sixth grade.

These are probably very narrow ranges for those who were expecting something a little free-form, and especially since 02 having a hard cutoff date in December seemingly prevents a lot of birthdays in the early parts of the year, but while it’s tempting to think that a whole 12 characters must have their birthdays evenly spread out over the year, in real life, there are actually biases towards certain months, and for Japan in particular, there's a known spike in births in the July to August period, so as far as matching real-world statistics goes, the above ranges aren’t actually unrealistic.

Making the issue even more confusing, Kizuna has official ages, which seem to be everyone’s ages from 02 with 8 added to all of them...but unlike 02, Kizuna takes place in a specific known time period (late July), which would not only restrict everyone’s birthdays to before July, but also directly contradict Jou’s figure given in Adventure. Kizuna’s the one that came with the initial disclaimer for not necessarily complying to Adventure lore, but nearly everything else about it is compliant, so it doesn’t seem to be a deliberate change as much as something that confuses the issue even further, and perhaps indicates that we shouldn’t really be thinking too hard about this.

Incidentally, Japanese fanartists have a list of unofficial birthdays that are used for fanart posting purposes:

Taichi: July 15

Yamato: April 23

Sora: October 25

Koushirou: November 6

Jou: May 24

Takeru: August 3

Hikari: December 16

Daisuke: May 12

Ken: July 31

Miyako: October 18

Iori: November 27

Not all of these are well-held to (especially Sora and Miyako’s, where the known canonical dissonance is rather strong), but this list has consistently circulated for the last two decades.

Even when you take into account contradictions with the above details (which, admittedly, mostly come from the Animation Chronicle, which came out in 2010, long after the fanbase had conceived of these dates), they’re pretty obviously against canon no matter how you look at it -- Our War Game! and thus Sora’s apparent birthday in Feburary-March are usually seen as canon, and given what happened in Adventure it’s very unlikely Takeru would have a birthday in the midst of those events, and Miyako’s is just downright wrong since we saw her star sign being given outright in 02 episode 25. These dates don’t really seem to have been conceived to seriously consider them as canon, but rather as a coping mechanism to have an agreed-upon designated day to post fanart and write celebratory things in the absence of any officially-sanctioned day to do so, so if your purpose in needing birthdays is relevant to that, these might be helpful to consider. Or, perhaps, another way to put it: less so as a “birthday”, and more “a designated day to celebrate them having been born”?

[possiblyimbiassed]

John’s “therapeutic” blog

I’ve been fascinated by the wealth of content in John Watson’s blog since I first noticed it; I think it was some time after S2. For being a complementary work to a TV show, it’s surprisingly well crafted and packed with information. Joe Lidster, who has written the fictional blogs and websites of John, Sherlock, Molly and Connie Prince, is a screenwriter who has been working also with Doctor Who and its spinoff Torchwood.

Unlike the rest of the content within the BBC Sherlock franchise, for example the online game ”Sherlock the Network”, the escape room “The Game is Now” or the book “Sherlock Chronicles”, John’s blog is fully available online for free, you don’t even have to register anywhere. And unlike the other blogs of the franchise (Molly’s and Connie Prince’s blogs and Sherlock’s website), John’s blog is lengthy and has a lot of posts in it. It gives us background and explanations of cases that aren’t mentioned in the show, or only referred to, and I also think it provides a “second opinion” of what we see in the show. It’s a bit like what John says in TLD:

It certainly seems like this blog has been created as a special little treat for the fans, since most of the casual viewers of the show probably don’t even know it exists ‘IRL’. But I think the blog is much more than that; partly because it’s so heavily referenced in the show – with frequent, accurate and exact pictures of it (at least until S4) – and partly because it tells us so much about John’s character. I think John’s blog is significant and important in trying to analyse BBC Sherlock. And maybe the version of John we see in the show will actually get more nuances to it if we look at the blog, which is expressly written by John himself?

More under the cut.

As some of you might know, I’ve written a meta series (X) where I try to explore the idea (originally from @raggedyblue​) that the blog describes the ‘real’ events in John’s and Sherlock’s life more accurately than the show, and that what we see in the show up until HLV is Sherlock reminiscing their life together while reading up on the blog. In my view, the show might be Sherlock’s embellished and dramatized version of the events - ironically a bit similar to what Sherlock usually accuses John of doing in both Doyle’s canon and on the blog. But I find the blog’s writing style far more prosaic than the show, and also more prosaic than Watson’s stories in ACD canon; in BBC Sherlock the roles might have been inverted compared to canon. 

An example of this would be the scene in TEH (which I talked about in this meta over a year ago) where Mary is (supposedly) reading the following un-published post directly from John’s blog editor:

“His movements were so silent. So furtive, he reminded me of a trained bloodhound picking out a scent. I couldn’t help thinking what an amazing criminal he’d make if he turned his talents against the law.”

Something doesn’t seem quite right here, though. While the rest of the post is text from another, already published, post (The Speckled Blond), this first part is taken almost verbatim from ACD’s story The Sign of Four (SIGN). It describes a crime scene where Holmes has just “whipped out his lens and a tape measure and hurried about the room on his knees, measuring, comparing, examining, with his long thin nose only a few inches from the planks and his beady eyes gleaming and deep-set like those of a bird”. I see a big style difference between this and the rest of John’s blog. Since the quote above never appears on the ‘IRL’ blog, I’d rather believe that in BBC Sherlock this is merely wishful thinking from Sherlock that happens inside his Drama Queen Mind Palace. This impressive description is, I think, what he would truly wish that John had written. ;)

I also suspect that the continuing references to different blog posts in S4 are all made up in Sherlock’s mind, since John’s blog ‘IRL’ stopped updating after TSoT, when Sherlock hacked it and took over the storytelling.

Be that as it may, this meta is a reflection upon what John Watson’s famous blog actually might stand for, and what I believe it tells us about his character. In these months of quarantine, I’ve been passing the time by reading through the whole online version of the blog and taking notes of it.

Therapeutic origin

It seems like the initiative for John to start a blog came from Ella Thompson, his therapist. I believe Ella’s initial idea was therapeutic; if it was almost impossible for John to talk to her about his feelings and inner problems in their sessions, she might have found it difficult to help him. Therefore she suggested that he write it all down on his own instead. And if Ella could persuade him to talk about his life on an online blog, she would also be able to read it.

Of course this wouldn’t be the same as if John told her about his inner reflections in confidence, in a real therapy session, but maybe the blog would give him an incentive to talk about his life at all. And you have to start somewhere.

At the end of TST we see Sherlock visit Ella, but when she asks him to “open up completely” he refuses. 

If S4 is happening inside Sherlock’s head (as I believe it is), this might have been Sherlock’s way of trying to psychoanalyse John, to ‘solve John’s case’, by envisioning the therapy situation in his mind palace. A well-known method of Sherlock Holmes is that he tries to put himself in the other person’s place and think about what his own response would have been to the situation. In ACD’s  story The Musgrave Ritual (MUSG), Holmes says: “You know my methods in such cases, Watson. I put myself in the man’s place, and, having first gauged his intelligence, I try to imagine how I should myself have proceeded under the same circumstances.”

Which is also evidence that the character of Sherlock Holmes does indeed not lack empathetic capacity. Also in the show, John’s assertion that Sherlock “doesn’t feel things that way” etc. is basically BS in my opinion. The problem is that John refuses to see this.

John’s state of mind before Sherlock

John’s first three blog posts (in the middle of December - January) seem to completely lack motivation.

And this is maybe what one could expect from the deeply depressed John (as he appears in the beginning of the show), isn’t it? No surprises there.

Everything seems meaningless, and John only makes two attempts at blog posts to comply with Ella’s recommendations, but he doesn’t actually write anything in them. After the second attempt his old army friend Bill Murray tries to contact him, but John seems to have cut off his ties with the rest of the world; he doesn’t answer the comment.

At the third attempt over a month later, John seems to want to delete the blog he has started, but lacks the technical knowledge to do so. The fourth attempt is just a snide comment to Ella:

She doesn’t respond, however (not very surprisingly perhaps). Instead, John’s sister Harry discovers the blog and tries out this means of communicating with him. But John ignores her.

But at the fifth attempt at least John has gone out with some friends and describes it – almost bitterly. Sadly, it also seems like John met up with them mainly to avoid his therapy session with Ella.

So, the problem is that whatever Ella may have thought that the blog would mean for John’s healing, I think she aimed well but unfortunately missed the target. John Watson does not ‘open up’ himself on the blog. When he finally starts to really write - after he met Sherlock - it’s not actually about him (supposedly); it’s all about Sherlock. Basically, John goes directly from ‘Nothing happens to me‘ to ‘Sherlock happens to me‘.

What the blog tells us about John ‘after Sherlock’

John’s blog may be all about Sherlock, but there isn’t actually that much praise for Sherlock in the blog posts as one might think. My impression is that John applies his (perhaps somewhat overestimated) writing skills to project his own failures and self-loathing on his closest friend. More than anything else, I think the blog is John’s emotional outlet for his frustration over his unsatisfactory relationship with Sherlock and his own inability to improve it. Instead of trying to actually talk to Sherlock, he uses the blog to vent his frustrations over Sherlock, speculating wildly about what he believes Sherlock is thinking and feeling.

The stories and adventures are thrilling and entertaining, yes. But his assessments of Sherlock’s character are really not very uplifting. John doesn’t strike me as an ‘analytic’ person, which in this case means that John’s theories about Sherlock are rather based on his personal emotions than logical conclusions. It’s sometimes even a bit difficult to follow the chain of events in John’s posts, because it’s usually so intertwined with his gossipy and out-of-context comments about Sherlock’s personality.

Unfortunately, Sherlock doesn’t seem to realise this projection, and neither do we see him address the issue of John’s misconceptions about him. I believe Sherlock takes many of John’s jibes and insults at him at face value, which – sadly - only adds on to his own self-loathing. I also think that Sherlock trying to draw conclusions about his mysterious friend through the written blog might be a mistake; it may eventually tell him a lot about John’s problems, but to see these he needs to look behind all the cover-up of blatant criticism of him, Sherlock. Maybe that’s what Sherlock’s trying to do in S4, by setting up scenarios in his mind palace?

Judging by how John comes across on the blog – and in the show – I think Sherlock’s claim “You’re abnormally drawn to dangerous people and places” in HLV is a perfectly sound analysis - on the surface. However, I think one must read between the blog lines in order to see other possible motives for John wanting to hang out with Sherlock. Reading John’s posts textually, he gives a strong impression that he’s there for the adventures; when there is danger in the air, John’s never bored.

In the comment section Sherlock never mentions John’s evaluation of his character. Instead he repeatedly criticises John’s writing style. I get the impression that this is Sherlock’s subtle way of getting back at John without having to directly address John’s misconceptions about him. As I said above, I think John’s writing style is very different from Watson’s style in canon; far less respect for Sherlock and a far more prosaic and simple language. Canons Watson seems careful not to speculate much, while John does this all the time.

Examples that form a pattern

There’s a good deal of praise of Sherlock in John’s posts, but it has almost exclusively to do with his admiration for Sherlock’s intellectual capacity; he’s repeatedly described as ‘clever’ and after the Fall, John claims that “nobody ever really outwitted Sherlock”. But in fact, I’ve found very few blog posts where John doesn’t also criticise or complain about Sherlock in some way or another. And there are only two posts (out of a total of 45) where John says something positive about Sherlock’s character:

1. After their first meeting he calls Sherlock “strangely likeable” and “charming”.

2. In what John meant to be his last post ever (he believed Sherlock was dead), he calls Sherlock “funny”, “charming” and “everything a good person should be”.

On the other hand, there seems to be nothing in John’s own (supposed) opinions about Sherlock that he regards as too negative or inappropriate to publish online. I very much think this is about self-loathing; he projects his own shortcomings on his “psychopath” friend and flatmate. Like it’s always a relief to have a scapegoat. An additional explanation might be that if John is closeted and in public denial about any romantic feelings for Sherlock, this makes him not want to appear too ‘besotted’ on the blog. ;) Thus, he might believe he needs to compensate the praise with criticism. Problem is, with this contradictory approach the readers might ask: What is John’s actual relationship to Sherlock? Handler? Hostage? Lover? Concerned citizen? It’s hard to claim he’s a ‘real’, professional colleague, since John’s actual profession is a medical doctor. But why would John be friends with a psychopath? 

To seriously claim that his best friend is a psychopath seems perfectly OK to John, though – he does it repeatedly, and quotes Donovan’s claim that Sherlock “gets off on it”. At the end of A Study in Pink, John talks about Sherlock and the serial killer as if they were both psychopaths, one undistinguishable from the other:

“The taxi driver drove him to a college of further education so they could both educate each other on - well, on how their minds worked, I guess. It's not something I'll ever really understand and, to be honest, I'm not sure I ever want to understand it. To be that much of a psychopath. To be that above the rest of us.”

John even seems to pretend to prefer ignorance to understanding, only to find one more opportunity to blame Sherlock. Here are some examples of other things John calls Sherlock publicly on the Internet:

Arrogant 

Rude

Imperious

Pompous

Madman

Freak

Childish and

Not safe. 

He also says on the blog that Sherlock is spectacularly ignorant about some things, like the solar system. 

Little Freudian slips

In the post titled The Speckled Blonde 

(which is basically a re-count of canon’s The Speckled Band - SPEC) John’s closet angst reaches new heights:

Apparently John finds it important to preventively point out to his readers that he was not sharing a bed with Sherlock. Or, actually, that he even preferred sleeping on the floor before sharing a bed with his flatmate. The thing is, however, that the information that they spent the night in Julias bedroom isn’t at all necessary for the story, since - unlike in ACD Canon - nothing of importance apparently happened during that night. John actually tells us nothing about the night as such. The only ‘feature of interest’ is that Sherlock found a suspect bottle of bubble bath on the victim’s night table, which he took to Barts for analysis (and he was right - the bath had killed Julia by poisoning). Obviously, John could have described this crime scene investigation entirely without mentioning that they had spent the night there. So, if this little morsel of information was so embarrassing for him, why did he even include it? Hmm... 

In my biased mind, I can only think of two alternative explanations (not mutually exclusive, though): 1. John had spent so much fantasies and subconscious energy on reliving this night that he just couldn’t keep this info entirely to himself (Freudian slip), or 2. Something actually happened that night - something that had no bearing on the case. After all, John never says that he slept on the floor, only that he was going to sleep on it. ;) 

Speaking of bubble bath, I find the fact that Julia died from it slightly suggestive, and even metaphorical, as such. Because there’s also another case on John’s blog describing someone dying in a bath: The Deadly Tealights. The victim suffocated in a bathroom where the candles consumed all the oxygen. John has included this little comment:

Why does John bring up the idea that a person taking a bath with candles would potentially be judged? What has his own bath routines to do with the crime case? Does the victim really need John to find excuses for his private life? Methinks this rather might be John’s closet angst speaking again. Someone has tried to belittle John for liking baths, and apparently John seizes the opportunity to vent about it on the blog. Metaphorically, this tells me that the closet is suffocating for John, and that the ‘chemistry of love’ is involved.  

John - The Moral Compass

John is often referred to as the part of the duo who a) is more sociable and b) works like a sort of moral guide to Sherlock. The detective, on the other hand, is shown as a “sociopath” who supposedly doesn’t understand this kind of things. And – to be honest – Sherlock doesn’t actively say much to contradict this perception; sometimes he even appears to agree with it.

(I think his actions should be a clue to the contrary, though).

According to the blog, John seems to believe he himself is the adult one in this acquaintance, the one who does understand the rules of society. He repeatedly calls Sherlock “childish”. Judging by John’s descriptions in the blog, one might almost think that John had been forced to hang out with Sherlock, trying to do the best of it. But seeing as it’s entirely voluntarily it’s a bit hard to understand, for example, how John can blame Sherlock for “leaving me and Sarah to be kidnapped” in The Blind Banker:

John makes is sound like Sherlock left them to the enemy deliberately, knowing that someone would come after them. But weren’t they at home, supposedly on a date? If John didn’t like it, couldn’t he have left any moment and gone out to continue the date he was supposed to? But no; John counts himself among the innocent persons whom Sherlock “involves in his adventures”:

After reading the whole of John’s blog, all I can say is that this guy is a living, breathing contradiction. How can he be Sherlock’s moral compass if his needle is spinning all the time? :))

In The Great Game John describes himself as just a “pawn” in Sherlock’s and the killer’s great game, equalling himself with the other victims. With his insinuations, he indirectly blames Sherlock for the death of 12 people and goes back to Sally Donovan’s “freak” accusations:

Another interesting bit is this, describing Sherlock’s reaction at the pool, when John for a moment appeared to be behind everything: “I should have been horrified that he'd even doubt me for a second…” Wait – what!? John is capable of telling the whole world the most damning rubbish about his friend, but if Sherlock for any second doubted John, he’d be horrified? This part is also of interest: “But the laser sight simply moved to Sherlock's head and I was forced to let go. For a second, I wondered if Sherlock would have done the same for me but then all I knew for certain was, at that moment, I knew I was going to die.”

Before that, John had just described what could easily be interpreted as Sherlock calmly trying to talk Moriarty out of having John killed, but to John this was just “The two men talked, both clearly pleased to…”.  In John’s view, he was the only one who was forced to let go of the killer because of the threat to Sherlock. Honestly, who is it, between the two of them, that most appears to lack empathetic capacity?

Creds and Competence

John appears to be a rather honest, humble and straightforward in the show, quite competent in his medical profession, and in TSoT he is highly praised by Sherlock:

But on the blog John is more ambiguous, and he isn’t always modest. Sometimes he appears to enhance his own role in the crime solving and take credit also for things that are clearly Sherlock’s doing. For example, in The Great Game there’s this: 

“Between us, we worked out that while Connie's death had been made to look like the result of a tetanus infection, it had actually been caused by poison - their houseboy, â–“â–“â–“â–“â–“, had overdosed her on Botox!”

But if we’re supposed to believe the show, John actually believed it was a tetanus infection, while Sherlock deduced and later demonstrated poison:

John also expresses a slightly childish vindictiveness in making a lot of fuss about Sherlock’s failures; every single time Sherlock can’t solve a case, John points it out on the blog with glee. It almost gives me the impression that the doctor is suffering from inferiority complex. He even uses  “Sherlock Holmes Baffled“ as a title for one of their cases.

This seems to be written in jest, since Sherlock frequently is rude about other people’s lower intellectual capacity, but actually hates ‘not knowing’. 

I admit that this may be funny to joke about once, but it gets a little tiresome that John has to point it out every time. Why does John even do this, even as Sherlock has explicitly asked him to not publish the unsolved cases? Which I assume would not be good for their business? 

If John truly is Sherlock’s colleague, wouldn’t he also be more interested in helping to solve the cases, rather than talk about the failures? It seems to me that John is struggling so hard against his own feelings for Sherlock that he feels the need to provoke rather than help him.

The Most Inhuman Human

Sherlock’s supposed lack of humanity is a recurring theme for John; he claims that “people” want to know that Sherlock is human, as if anyone - on the blog or in the show - except John had ever questioned this. 

I can’t remember anyone on the blog except John showing an interest in this issue, though. In the post Many Happy Returns he writes this (my bolding): 

“Yet the video... it showed the other side to him. He was rude, yeah. Arrogant. Apparently lacking in anything resembling empathy. But I'd forgotten just how funny he could be. He was so charming. So... human. It's bizarre because most people would say he was the most inhuman person they'd ever met. But he wasn't.”

He wasn’t? Wow - great revelation, John! [sarcasm :)]. But who said that, actually? Not even the haters and trolls on John’s blog ever claimed Sherlock was inhuman. It’s one thing that Donovan and Anderson called him a freak and a psychopath, but John is the only character I can think of who has ever implied that Sherlock would not be a human being. Only John calls him a ‘machine’. Which is a load of BS of course; John really doesn’t strike me as a professional doctor when he says this, even less as a friend - always trying to mark the distance.

So what’s Sherlock’s ‘complete lack of empathy’ in that video actually about (mini-episode here)? Was it because he didn’t want to go to a birthday dinner with people? Hardly - John seems to understand this about Sherlock. Or was it maybe because of his comment: “How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him!” Well, this probably hurt a bit (even if I rather think he sounds bitter and jealous - he wants John for himself ;) ). On the other hand, Sherlock then backtracks and seems to regret his little outburst:

Mary’s role in John’s life

The blog is where Mary Morstan appears to be introduced to John; on John’s first blog post about at least a year after Sherlock’s ‘death’, she suddenly just shows up in the comment section, sending him kisses and inviting him out:

John ignores her, though, and when his sister asks him who Mary is, he doesn’t answer. Mary seems to hang in there, however, and the next time she appears is on the Deadly Tealights post (the one with the dead flatmate in the suffocating closet bathroom). And now she’s called Mary Morstan. Next time is The Inexplicable Matchbox. Both times her only comment is ‘ignore the trolls’. John rather seems to ignore her, though. Finally, he finishes his Many Happy Returns post (which was supposed to be his last) with saying that he has now “found someone” (without naming them) and should concentrate on that. 

All this is a little bit weird, though, considering Mary’s comment in TEH, when she is logged in and reading aloud from the editor of John’s blog: “The famous blog, finally!” As if she hadn’t already read all his posts and tried to interact with him on the blog? Hmm. 

In the show Mary just seems to come from out of nowhere, suddenly showing up in the graveyard holding hands with John. 

Her anonymity reminds me of Doyle’s treatment of Mary in canon, where she’s only mentioned by name when she’s still a client, before she marries Watson.

On the blog Mary is not mentioned by name until over a year after John met her, in spite of her presence in the comment section long before that. And it’s not until John’s first post after Sherlock’s return - The Empty Hearse - that John says something appreciative of her. Suddenly she is (still without name) "...the best thing that's ever happened to me. Sorry, Sherlock :)”. For the rest of the blog posts, John’s (very scarce) answers to Mary’s comments are never flirty or appreciative in the least. Mary’s own last comment, on the very last post - this time written by Sherlock who hacked the blog after John’s and Mary’s wedding - is this: “SHERLOCK! SHUT UP NOW!”

None of this gives me the impression that John has fallen in love with Mary. The silence with which he treats Mary on the blog rather makes me think of her as someone basically not very important; a sort of substitute in a desperate attempt to fill an emptiness in his life. And I think it might be significant that as soon as John recognises the existence of Mary in his life, he seems to use her as a sort of buffer towards Sherlock. A façade. First it’s the gleeful “Sorry Sherlock :)” comment above. Vindictive, it appears. And then, in the post Happily Ever After, John insists that his and Mary’s impending (heterosexual) marriage must clearly be the reason why Sherlock chose to help a gay couple getting together, one of them leaving an abusive marriage which was basically a façade. This whole ‘conclusion’ is so stupid that I’m rendered speechless.

Summary

To summarise - for those of you with enough patience to have followed all my ramblings in this marathon meta - I think the picture of John’s character that we can discern from reading up on the whole of his blog possibly tells us even more about him than the show. If the show reflects Sherlock’s mind, albeit almost entirely focused on his own perception of John Watson, this blog might actually give more insight into how John’s own mind works. I think it shows us someone who is struggling desperately with his own feelings. Someone who is trying to mark a distance that he believes is healthy for him, but that he actually doesn’t want, towards the object of his affection, by criticising them. The full-fledged, living, breathing contradiction that is John Watson comes to its full right by the blog. We could almost say he’s ‘human’ :). Kudos to Joe Lidster and the other showmakers for providing us with this gem.

Tagging some people who might be interested: @raggedyblue​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @gosherlocked​ @sagestreet​ @sarahthecoat​  @tjlcisthenewsexy​​  @elldotsee​​ @88thparallel​​  @sherlock-overflow-error​​ ��@yeah-oh-shit​

[imaginarypeteel]

Trust The Cat: Theo Raeken x reader

Requested by anonymous

Warnings: curse words, angst, fluff, bad plot

Word count: 3k

A/n: First of all, I am soooo sorry that this isn't very good. I will probably make a part 2 for this so maybe that'll be better.

Unlike most supernaturals in Beacon Hills, you weren't very close with the McCall Pack. Well to be fair you weren't that much of a nonhuman anyway, having 10% of yourself being witch and the other pure human. But still, you knew rituals that had to be done for certain things and plants bloomed longer around you. The rituals would maybe be useful for the pack but your parents strictly forbid you from talking to any supernatural other than your family's black familiar cat Diablerie, your father and your grandmother. Your grandmother being half-witch and father being quarter of a witch...or whatever you'd like to call it for men.

But still, at school, Scott had noticed that the almost dead anthuriums on the window had come back to life when you had sat beside them. So safe to say, right after school you were questioned by Scott and Stiles. Knowing full well who they were, you knew better than to run off. Scott would catch you anyway. So, you decided to stay and talk to them.

That had gotten you into being a secret informant if they were dealing with something. You were an absolute mythical creatures nerd so only by hearing few details about something abnormal happening, you already had a list of creatures who could do it.

So when dread doctors came around and you couldn't figure out at first who it was, Scott constantly checked in with you. That of course got Theo's attention.

And so, him seducing you and giving you all sorts of attention started. Your naive nerd self didn't think twice about it. Stiles warned you, he told you he was suspicious, he told you not to get involved with him, he told you something was very off with him. But his warnings were overrun by Theo's good looks and sweet words.

Little did you know, all he wanted was information from you. You had the bad habit of blabbing out secrets of all kind once you got talking. Could've been anything from something minor you did in kindergarten to pack secrets you were trusted with.

But when you finally saw his true colors, you were wrecked.

Why didn't you listen to Stiles? Why didn't you think everything over before rushing into the relationship like you usually do? Why would someone as good looking as Theo even want to be with you? You were a nerd for fuck's sake! Didn't even really have any friends. Yes, you were part of a nature club but that really wasn't something to stand out with.

Why didn't you listen to Diablerie when she attacked him? Every single person in your family knows to always listen to a familiar's intuition. In this case Diablerie knowing that Theo is not to be trusted.

After finding out about Theo's betrayal - and after his sister had dragged him away - you distanced yourself from the pack, afraid you'd blab out more secrets.

Other than Stiles, none of them could even come into your garden. Your grandmother and father had set all sorts of traps and spells over your living quarters. If anyone who didn't have the blood of your great-grandmother but was a supernatural even dared to put their pinky toe over the invisible border, they'd quite literally fall six feet into the ground.

~~~

You had just gotten back from your long trip to Monaco with your family.

With great hesitation, you had sneaked off to Scott's house. Telling your nosy mother that you were going to the library. Wouldn't say you were lying since that was your plan after.

Now you were here, wanting to get this over with before Diablerie would somehow send a signal to your mom that in fact no, you weren't at the library like you told her. The damn cat was very cute and huge help very often but was also too loyal to your parents for your good. Her being able to know everything about everyone in your family didn't help at all.

"Let's get this over with, I don't have much time until Diablerie-" you cut off as your e/c eyes connected with certain blue ones. Mouth still open, eyes growing wide, you slowly turned your body towards Stiles before grabbing him by the ear and dragging him to another room, muttering, "Let's have a word."

You shut the door after letting his ear go. Seething, you turned towards the brunette boy who was rubbing his ear. "What the actual FUCK STILES?!" you hissed like a snake.

"Look, I know I was the one to say he is dangerous and off and all that and he was. I was right, nobody wants to listen to me though," he gave you an accusing look but your angry expression didn't waver, if anything, it got even more furious. "Okay, okay. So, Liam and Hayden might have released Theo because, well, ask them." You blinked. What the hell? What were they thinking?!

"Stiles what the hell were you dealing with here?" You asked. "The Wild Hunt," he simply answered. Your mythology nerd self got switched on by those three words. "The Wild Hunt? Like the English type? Or the Norse like? Or some else type?" your curiosity made you forget your lying bitch of an ex for sometime. Stiles was at loss of an answer, "Uuuuuummm, I dunno, just Wild Hunt?" You rolled your eyes, reason for this conversation coming back to you. "Alright, well why is he still here?" You asked furiously. You were scared actually, scared of Theo because after you had gotten to know everything he could do, everything he had done, anyone in their right mind would be scared.

"Because he has changed?" Stiles replied as if it was an obvious thing. "HOW CAN YOU KNOW THAT?" you yelled. Actually yelled. You didn't need to be a were-something to be able to here that from outside of the bedroom the two of you 'hid' in.

"Listen Y/n, I know it may be hard to believe but he took away Gabe's pain before he passed. And you know a bond needs to be created for that. And he-he sacrificed himself basically and-" Stiles sighed when he saw your wide eyes staring back at him, they were getting glossy. Did he really do all that? Had he changed? Was it a game again? Was it a lie? But if he really took away Gabe's - whoever that is but seems like a good guy - pain then it can't be a lie. Right?

You were skeptical. Your trust had been broken, your heart had been broken, your soul had been broken. All by Theo Raeken. Were you really up for trusting him to be near the others and yourself? To be free?

"I... I should go," you mumbled. Silently, you opened the door and walked out. Every single person in the living room was looking at you, as you rushed through it. Grabbing your backpack. For a moment, your eyes met with Theo's. He looks cute with his new hair. Wait, what the fuck am I thinking? He smiled at you, making you frown. You looked away and walked out of the house, muttering a 'bye' in the process.

~~~

At home, you were reading "The Lunar Chronicles: Cinder." If staring at a book with a troubled face, thinking about a certain someone else and not memorizing any words from the pages counts as reading.

Giving up on trying to read, you grabbed your phone from beside you. You went on instagram, curious on why you have a notification there because you had no viral life either. You were horrible at taking selfies, so no basic girl posts from you, not a big meme maker nor artist who posts their stuff. You just followed your friends and some tags.

Turns out the notification was a follow request.

From Theo.

Your thumb stood over the Accept button. Your breath hitching when you realized that his profile picture was of you two making silly faces. You took your finger away and pressed the back button.

Sighing you picked up the book again. "Diablerie, what do I do?" The black feline rose her head. "Meow?" As you were petting the she-cat's head, you let out another sigh.

"You remember Theo right?"

"Meow."

"Well he is back."

"Meow," Diablerie nodded. What, she knew?

"And he apparently is different."

"Mow?" The familiar stood up and cocked her head to the side, as if asking either 'if you believed that?' or 'is that true?'

"I- I don't know. I mean Stiles believes that and you know he was right the last time."

Diablerie was quiet for sometime, staring at your blanket but not really because her gaze was unfocused. She was standing still on the blanket, tail twitching, ears facing different directions and tail tip twitching but not in an aggressive way. You realized that she was thinking.

You gazed at the queen for sometime before she finally returned her gaze back to you. "Meow!" she sounded determined but you had no idea what she just said. "Um..."

Diablerie gave you an unimpressed look when after 5minutes, you still hadn't realized what she told you.

The feline hopped down from your bed and headed towards your closet, tail high. You were confused on what the heck she was doing. With some difficulties, the she-cat climbed to where you kept your shirts. One of Theo's old shirts is there. Your e/c eyes widened as you remembered that. That shirt had been something that you lived your hate and betrayal because of a certain blue-eyed boy out on when he was dragged away by his sister. It was torn, absolutely ragged, had burn marks and looked very ugly with the stains of uncountable different things on it.

Once you realized what Diablerie was looking for, you got off the bed and went to help the familiar.

You pulled the drawer back and stuck your hand down to try and find the ragged piece of clothing. You didn't even know why you kept it, with your own clean shirts nevertheless.

The miniature panther like animal balanced herself on the side of the drawer as you pulled it and hopped down when you were pushing it back in and walking back to the bed.

Placing it on the bed, you gave the cat a face full of unanswered questions. With no difficulty whatsoever, Diablerie hopped back on the bed

She set her paw gently on the shirt. Still not getting it, you stared at your cat cluelessly.

"Theo?"

"Meow."

"Umm..."

Diablerie had a scowl on her raven black face at your response.

She placed her paw yet again on the ragged piece of fabric and then did a spin.

"Spin Theo?"

The cat shook her head.

Diablerie hopped down from the bed again and walked out of your room. Dumbfoundedly, you just stared after her in confusion.

As you were waiting for Diablerie to come back, your phone buzzed. Looking down, you saw a notification pop up, saying that you had a message.

Unknown: «Hey!»

The message was from an unknown number which freaked you out. Was this a scam? Had you accidentally deleted someone's contact? Was there a proje- no you weren't in school anymore.

As you were debating on if you should answer or not, another text came through.

Unknown: «It's Theo»

You froze. No, no way. No way in hell that he is texting you now.

Unknown: «Just wanted to let you know that this is my new number»

Unknown: «You can message and call me anytime you want»

Unknown: «I'm sorry»

You gulped, staring at the last message as your eyesight blurred, tears fighting to break free. Finally, few trailed down your cheeks. Who were you kidding? You weren't over it.

You wanted to believe that he really was sorry but how could you know that he wasn't using you this time?

Soft fur being rubbed against your arm broke you out of your thoughts. "Meow."

Diablerie placed something on your lap. You rubbed your eyes to see what the familiar brought. It was a picture of her and you. It was of your 12th birthday, when your grandmother had brought Diablerie to your family after the raven Sombra had passed. Diablerie had been only 8 months old then but was already wiser than you.

"You?" It took you few moments before it clicked. "You want to meet him?" Diablerie purred happily as a confirmation to your words.

You gulped, e/c eyes returning to the picture in hand.

"Mow."

The feline was staring at your phone screen that was darkening, about to close, texts from Theo open.

"I-Okay, okay, I'll do it."

Hands shaking, you grabbed your phone and quickly tapped on the screen so it wouldn't turn off.

The nessage you were about to send had to be deleted many times because you just couldn't touch the right keys. Heart hammering, you pressed send.

You: «Meet me tomorrow at 6pm, you know where»

Saving his number, you finally let yourself breath.

Theo: «Okay! Sounds great😁»

~~~

"And where are you going?" your little sister asked suspiciously just as you were about to run out the door.

"Out. Didn't know you were blind. Sis, tell mom to get you glasses," you rushed out. Your sister threw a glare your way. "So you of all people are going out looking all fancy just because? As if."

Smiling innocently, you flipped her off before shutting the door.

Diablerie was napping on the gate but rose her head when you neared. "Okay, let's go."

You didn't even know why you had put on the best clothes you could find and put on makeup. You weren't trying to impress Theo, right? You were just checking if he was trustworthy. I hope he is.

~~~

It was 5:55pm when you stepped into the small clearing in the forest. You could see Theo there, he had flowers in his hands and was dressed in a pretty casual way. Now you felt embarrassed that you had put in so much effort to look nice. You thought about backing out and going away but a certain someone was already trotting towards the man, whip like tail held high.

Theo heard the feather like steps Diablerie took in the grass and his eyes widened. He straightened his back. His last encounter with the cat hadn't been positive and truth be told, he feared the cat.

You could see the nervousness in your ex's face and were now convinced that he was out for no good and planning something again. But then, then you saw the tiger lilies in his hands and your heart warmed up. They were your favorites and he remembered it.

Now a bit more confident, you walked up to him. Still eyeing the cat with one eye, he gazed at you with the other.

"Y/n! Hi, you look great!" He smiled widely. "Here, these are your favorites, right?" he stepped closer to you and stretched out the hand that was gripping the flowers. "Yeah... Thanks," you accepted the tiger lilies, keeping your eyes on Diablerie. The cat did few circles around Theo, padded a bit closer and then sniffed him. "Uhm..." the blue-eyed man was confused and gave you a questioning look. The only response he got was an awkward smile from you. Deep down, you knew that you hoped that Diablerie would approve of him.

As the cat took more and more time to give her approval, you were beginning to think that Theo hadn't changed and was still untrustworthy and evil. But just as you wanted to turn around and run away, Diablerie let out a pleased purr and rubbed her body against Theo's legs. He was confused and surprised while a genuine smile stretched onto your face. The warm feeling of happiness spread throughout your body. He had changed, for real.

"You really have changed," you mumbled and - surprising both yourself and Theo - threw yourself onto him, arms wrapped around his built torso and face buried into his chest, squeezing the life out of him. Slowly, the man wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your hair. "I have no idea what just happened but I'm not complaining," he laughed.

You grinned.

"Now, Theo, you better tell me what the hell happened while I was tanning in Monaco?" you demanded curiously as you pulled away to look up at him. The blue-eyed man laughed, "Well..."

~~~

"Theo, you are not sleeping in your truck," you told him sternly. "Well I can't go anywhere else, babe," he shrugged. "Surely you have friends here now who you can stay with." Theo tongued his cheek, "But I can't stay with them forever Y/n. I missed school so much that I can't graduate, I can't go to college and literally no one will hire me." You stared at him while chewing on your cheek, "Then... Go back to school?"

"Can't."

"Why?"

"One word, broke."

"Then, we will find a way to get you a job but you will not sleep in your truck for the rest of your life Theo!"

Theo sighed but smiled at you, "Okay." He ran his hand through your hair before it froze on your cheek, he pulled you towards him a bit and kissed your forehead. "But you, you will go to sleep."

You chuckled, "Fine," you giggled, dragging out the i.

As you pulled away, you stared at him with your sparkling e/c eyes for sometime. "Theo, I like your new hair, you better keep it," you said all of a sudden. When you realized that you had said it out loud, you blushed while Theo laughed. "Well I'm glad to hear me not having enough money to get a haircut is up to your liking." He shut up when you kissed his cheeks and ran back towards your house.

He stood there until the door to your house closed behind Diablerie and you. Once again, a sigh left the blue-eyed boy.

He will try to get a job again tomorrow.

He will try to be up to your parents liking because he knew they absolutely despised him right now.

He will try but he can't promise anything.

~~~

It was 8 months later when Theo finally got a job. You had moved to New York to study Archaeology.

You had a job there to support yourself as a delivery driver for Domino's. The two of you kept a long distance relationship since neither of you had enough money to fly Theo over to the Big Apple.

A Spanish restaurant decided to give him a chance and you were both ecstatic when you got the news. "I'm so proud of you, baby," you cheered over Skype. "The people there seemed very nice, though I have to admit, I accidentally bumped into the Chef there already. A fiery Latina, so I better keep up my best behavior." The both of you laughed.

"How are the other doing?" You asked with a warm smile. "Well other than Stiles, I have no idea. You know almost everyone left to chase their dreams. Not that the supernaturals care, pretty sure Scott will return soon. Shit will go crazy soon." Your boyfriend's turned chalk white as he realized that he let it slip.

Worry clouded your face, "Theo... What's going on?"