#but just know. I am thinking about the ways they reflect and parallel each other always.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

My dearest Yve,

I actually teared up reading this—no joke. The fact that you took the time to write such an in-depth analysis and appreciation for the little details means the world to me. It genuinely overwhelmed me (in the best way possible). So, in return, I’m going to take my time to respond to each and every one of your comments. But first, I owe you an apology for taking so long to reply... ms girl had a little detour to A&E over the weekend LMFAO (I’m fine now!).

You raised such a great point about how loud MC was when she threw the can. I actually debated whether I should keep that in, but ultimately, I left it because I felt it reflected the impulsive nature of humans. At that moment, she was starving and had risked her life to find food only to discover that it was rotten. I wanted to capture that raw frustration. The fact that this was the very first paragraph and you already caught onto such a small detail blows my mind.

YES! In every zombie film or show I’ve seen, the biggest threat is almost never the zombies. And that’s the irony, isn’t it? Because zombies were humans once. It really highlights how, dead or undead, human beings are always the ultimate apex predators.

Thank you for appreciating the comparative parallel in the nightmare line EHEHEHE

When I was planning her character, the only thing I knew for certain was that she needed to be independent. By extension, that meant making her a complete badass who doesn’t rely on others to survive. I think this also stems from her past experiences with survival groups and after being on her own for so long, she’s developed an instinct to act rather than wait for problems to resolve themselves. She’s practical and hardened by her reality, but at the core of it all, she’s still human, with fragile emotions beneath the surface.

OMG, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for noticing that none of the boys stepped in to help her! Having them swoop in to save her would have completely undermined her character. She survived almost a year alone in a zombie apocalypse—she’s not about to need a man to rescue her from one zombie. Also, “In your bed” is crazy, by the way!

THANK YOU AGAIN for noticing the fact that both the reader and MC don’t immediately know who’s speaking? That was so difficult to write during the motel sequence, but I’m so glad it paid off. And Ni-ki being that obvious? LMAO.

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you actually take notes while reading. You are truly one of a kind, and honestly, every writer deserves a reader like you.

Even though you told me not to answer, I'm going to do it anyway. Yes, you are a freak for enjoying the scenes where she's running for her life. BUT, I am also a freak for writing them. So really, we’re just in this together.

I knew Jay was the perfect fit for the cautious character because, in my mind, he’s someone who is wise and learns from experience. I actually debated between him and Sunghoon for this role but ultimately went with Jay. Also, JAYWON.

You are so valid for saying you would’ve up and left too. Honestly, same. The only reason MC didn’t was because she didn’t want to be like the people from her last group. As pragmatic as she is, she hates being proven wrong.

So, we’re both SE Asian, Libras, AND Jungwon-biased? Shayla, tell me this isn’t fate.

AGREED ABOUT THAT TRAIN TO BUSAN CHARACTER. Had me pulling out my hair watching. The selfish, stubborn characters always survive too long for my liking. And it makes sense because If you put yourself first, you stand a better chance of making it out alive.

To clear up any confusion about how the zombies in this AU function, they rely on whatever senses are still available to them. I assume you were referring to the line “empty eye sockets seem to bore into you.” In that case, the zombie had no eyes and was relying on sound cues. Later on, I used “milky eyes” to describe those that do still have their vision. Basically, they react to whatever they can—sound, the smell of blood, movement—if something grabs their attention, they go for it!

That’s it. That’s the message. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

XOXO, Nat <3

SAFE & SOUND — part 1

Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

word count: 14k

MASTERLIST

Rotten.

The can of tuna you’ve risked your life to retrieve from the mart in the next neighbourhood is rotten. Just like everything else roaming the streets.

The smell hits you first, sharp and metallic, curling through the air like a mocking laugh. It’s only when you peer into the greyish sludge that you know for sure. Gagging, you launch the can across the dimly lit room. The clang as it hits the wall feels louder than it should, echoing against the hollow silence. A greasy smear marks its path before it rolls to a stop.

Your stomach tightens, but not from hunger—not entirely. It’s exhaustion, or frustration, or both, a familiar cocktail of feelings that churns in your gut. You press a hand to your stomach, willing it to stay quiet. The small victories matter now, even if they’re as simple as keeping quiet.

“Figures,” you mutter, wiping your hands on the knees of your tattered jeans. The word feels heavy in the thick silence of the abandoned community building you’ve been calling home—a makeshift fortress that’s only just kept you alive for the past year.

The windows are boarded up with planks you scavenged from nearby wreckage, letting in only the faintest cracks of moonlight, casting fractured shadows on the walls. The small corner where you sleep is enclosed by a barricade of furniture you've managed to tie together with ropes and scraps of cloth you’ve gathered. It’s not perfect, but it’s held so far.

Outside, the telltale groans of the undead float through the night air, mingling with the distant sound of screams and breaking glass. You’ve learned to tune it out, to pretend that the world hasn’t fallen apart.

But every so often, when the noises grow too close or too many, the illusion shatters, leaving behind a pit of fear in your stomach that no amount of fortification can fill.

You lean back, letting your head hit the wall. The cracks in the paint catch against the rough weave of your jacket, the sound gritty and small. Your mind drifts back to that fateful day, the day everything went to shit.

You’d only been living in Seoul for a month, you were barely unpacked, just starting to memorise the labyrinth of subway lines, the shortcuts to your university. University acceptance had felt like the first step towards something bigger, something brighter. You can still see your parents’ faces, lit with pride, when you shared the news. Getting into a university in Seoul—it’s like gaining instant bragging rights for life.

Except now, none of it matters. Those things out there couldn’t care less about your alma mater, whether you’re earning a six-figure salary or pulled from the gutter. To them, you’re just another meal on legs—flesh, blood, and bone all blending into the same, mindless craving.

You’d always thought you’d know what to do in a zombie apocalypse. Every movie and survival guide said the same thing:

Avoid the cities. Get out fast.

So when the news started to break, you didn’t hesitate. You grabbed a bag—essentials only—and set out, determined to make it back to your parents in the province. You didn’t even pause to think about how impossible it might be.

But the city had other plans. You hadn’t even made it ten blocks before the streets were overrun. A tide of chaos, of screams and shoving bodies—alive and not—forced you off course.

The community building was a last-ditch refuge, its doors flung open to anyone desperate enough to run for them. You’d barely made it inside before the barricades went up. It wasn’t the plan, but then again, nothing about survival ever is.

At first, it felt like a haven. There were enough supplies to keep everyone fed—if barely. Dozens of survivors shared the space, most of them too old or too scared to leave. The rations were thin, one meal a day if you were lucky, but it was enough.

You and a handful of the younger survivors took turns venturing out, gathering what you could from nearby shops and houses. It wasn’t much, but it worked.

For a time.

When the convenience store was stripped bare, you moved to the supermarket. When that was picked clean, you ventured further. Each trip took you deeper into danger, the risk growing with every step. Supplies dwindled. The fear grew sharper, harder to ignore.

People started to die—some to the undead, others to hunger, and still others to the kind of cruelty that only surfaces when survival is on the line.

You learned quickly that it wasn’t just the zombies you had to fear. You’ve seen it firsthand: the way desperation changes people.

At first, it was small things—arguments over ration sizes, whispers of distrust. But then the small petty arguments turned into fights, and fights turned into bloodshed.

One by one, people either left to take their chances elsewhere or fell victim to the chaos within. A high school student, he had barely turned eighteen, stabbed a man over a tin of peaches. A woman abandoned her own mother to save herself when the barricade was breached.

Survival strips away more than flesh—it strips away the pretence of civility, leaving only the raw, animalistic instinct to endure at any cost. It’s not just the undead that keep you awake at night—it’s the memory of what people are capable of becoming.

So when the barricade failed during a particularly viscous storm and you’d barely escaped with your life, you dragged what little you could salvage to this corner of the building, patching up the holes as best as possible. Alone, because it was safer that way.

Now, alone in the faint light of your makeshift fortress, the weight of it all presses down on you. The loneliness, the hunger, the constant, gnawing terror—it’s all too much. But you shove it aside, because there’s no room for weakness here.

Weakness gets you killed.

Your stomach growls again, insistent, and you grit your teeth. You’ll have to go out again soon. The thought sends a chill through you, but there’s no other choice. Survival doesn’t wait for fear to subside.

Taking a deep breath, you stand and reach for your weapon—a rusted crowbar that’s seen more use than you’d like to admit. Tomorrow, you’ll go out again, search for food, risk what’s left of your life to keep it from ending.

For now, you sit in the dark and listen. To the groans. To the screams. To the sound of your own ragged breathing. And try not to dream.

A loud thunk from below jolts you awake, not that you were fully unconscious in the first place. Your entire body goes rigid as you strain to listen. Another thunk. Then a scrape, like something heavy being dragged across the ground floor. Your mind races—it could be the wind, or maybe another scavenger. Or it could be them.

Your grip on the crowbar tightens as you slowly push yourself off the floor. You tiptoe toward the staircase leading down to the lobby. The wooden stairs creak under your weight as you inch down them, and you wince at each sound. They might as well be gunshots in the stillness.

Sweat beads on your forehead as you reach the landing and peer into the dark hallway beyond. Shadows shift and flicker in the faint moonlight filtering through cracks in the boarded-up windows.

The dragging sound comes again, closer this time, and your grip tightens until the ridged metal of the crowbar bites into your skin. Then, a growl echoes from the darkness. Low. Guttural. Not human.

You back up instinctively, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. Your foot catches on a loose piece of debris, and you stumble, barely catching yourself on the railing. The noise you make is small but loud enough to stir the growling into a frenzy. The shuffling grows faster, more erratic.

They’re coming.

“Shit,” you hiss under your breath, scrambling back up the stairs. You’ve rehearsed this scenario a hundred times in your head. Go to the second floor. Block the stairwell. Wait it out. It’s worked before, but something tells you this time is different. There’s too much noise, too many of them. And you’re already running low on supplies.

By the time you reach the top of the stairs, the first figure emerges into the faint light below. Its flesh hangs from its bones in sickly, yellowed strips. Empty eye sockets seem to bore into you as it lets out a chilling moan. Behind it, more shadows lurch into view, a grotesque parade of decay and hunger.

You’re out of time.

Slamming the door to the stairwell shut, you shove a heavy desk against it and wedge the crowbar beneath the handle for good measure. The door shudders almost immediately under the weight of their assault, the moans and growls growing louder with each passing second. You back away, your mind racing for an escape route.

Your eyes dart to the boarded-up windows. It’s a long drop, but there’s a fire escape just a few feet out of reach. If you can break through the boards and make the jump, you might stand a chance. It’s a gamble, but so is staying here

And if you’re being honest, you’d rather plunge to your death than be torn apart limb by limb.

Grabbing a chair, you smash it against the nearest window. The wood splinters and cracks, but it holds firm. Behind you, the door creaks ominously as the barricade begins to give way. Desperation fuels your next swing, and the boards finally snap, leaving a jagged hole just big enough to climb through.

You don’t think—you just act, hauling yourself up and out onto the narrow ledge outside. The cold night air hits your face, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. Below, the fire escape beckons. You take a deep breath, brace yourself, and leap.

For a moment, you’re weightless. Then your hands slam into the metal railing, and you scramble to pull yourself up. Your palms sting, and your muscles scream in protest, but you don’t let go. Not when survival is so close.

Behind you, the door finally gives way. The sound of splintering wood and the enraged cries of the undead spur you into action. You don’t look back as you climb down the fire escape, each step taking you further from the nightmare above, and closer to the nightmare below.

When your feet finally hit the ground, you allow yourself a moment to breathe. But it’s short-lived. The streets are no safer than the building you just escaped. Shadows move in the distance, and the faint echo of shuffling feet reminds you that you’re never truly alone.

With nothing but the clothes on your back, you start to run. You don’t know where you’re going—only that you can’t stop. Your legs burn, your lungs ache, but you keep moving, fuelled by a singular, desperate thought: keep going. Always keep going. Because if you stop, even for a moment, it’ll all be over.

The groans follow you, relentless and hungry. You don’t dare look back. Instead, you focus on the narrow alleyways and shadowed streets ahead, praying you don’t make a wrong turn.

You finally spot a building—an auto store with its doors hanging slightly ajar. Without thinking, you rush inside, slamming the door shut behind you. Your hands fumble for something—anything—to block it, and you grab a rusted toolbox, wedging it against the frame. It feels pathetic, barely a barrier, but you convince yourself it’s better than nothing.

Your breaths come fast and shallow as you scan the room. Rows of dusty shelves cluttered with tools and car parts stretch before you, their contents untouched for what feels like decades. The air is stale and heavy, carrying the faint tang of motor oil. For a fleeting moment, the oppressive noise of the streets is muffled, and you almost feel safe.

But the reprieve is short-lived.

Voices. Human voices. Low, urgent, and drawing closer.

Your stomach twists as panic sets in, sharp and paralysing. You reach for a loose screwdriver on the floor and dart behind a shelf, crouching low. Dust clings to your clothes as you press yourself against the cold metal, willing yourself to disappear.

The door creaks open, and the toolbox scrapes uselessly across the floor. You curse silently under your breath. What a waste of effort.

Boots scuff against the ground as they enter. Voices—male voices—filter through the stale air, rough and laced with tension. “That was close, fuck.” one mutters, his voice shaking. You can hear him catching his breath, the fear in his tone unmistakable.

Looks like you weren’t the only one running from the horde that came out of nowhere.

“What the hell is The Future doing in the city?” another snaps, frustration cutting through the hushed atmosphere.

The Future...?

"They're looking for us, what else?" a third man grunts, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Talk about obsessive,” a fourth says, anger simmering beneath. “We escaped more than six months ago. How are they still trying to track us down?"

“That community… they’re worse than the dead. I’d rather take my chances out here than go back there.” Five.

“You don’t get it. They’ll hunt us down. They always do,” Six.

"I mean… We stole almost six months’ worth of supplies. And a van. I'd hunt us too." This one is a little cheeky. Seven.

"Shut the fuck up,” the gravelly voice growls. “You think this is funny?”

Your mind races. A community hunting them? You’ve heard of survivors forming groups. Hell, you were part of one. But this… this sounds different. Darker.

You press yourself closer to the shelf, your gip on the screwdriver so tight your fingers cramp. Seven men, at least—that’s how many voices you can count. Could you take them? Absolutely not.

For now, the only option is to stay hidden. You force yourself to breathe slowly, silently, and focus on their words, desperate for answers. Whatever these men are running from, you need to know if it’s worse than what’s already out there—or if it’s heading straight for you.

Just then, a faint groan slices through the oppressive silence, this one agonisingly close. Your head snaps around, heart thundering against your ribs like a trapped bird.

Right there, not more than a foot away and obscured beneath a grimy sheet of cardboard, something stirs. The groan rises in pitch, raw and guttural, as the cardboard shifts, revealing a face ravaged by decay. Skin, or what’s left of it, clings to its skull in uneven patches, and its milky, dead eyes lock onto yours with an almost sentient hunger.

You freeze, the breath hitching in your chest as time seems to slow. The stench of rot floods your senses, almost choking you, and a cold sweat slicks your skin.

Before you can react, the creature lurches, its skeletal hand shooting out with horrifying speed. Filthy, jagged nails scrape against your leg, finding purchase in the fabric of your jeans and digging into the flesh beneath.

A piercing shriek tears from your throat—raw, primal, and louder than you intend. The sound ricochets off the walls, each echo feeding the panic clawing at your mind.

Desperation surges like a tidal wave, drowning out coherent thought. You kick wildly, your boot connecting with the thing’s chest, but its grip is unyielding. The screwdriver slips in your sweat-slicked palm as you fumble to raise it, your muscles trembling with adrenaline-fuelled terror. Its grip tightens, nails biting deeper, and for a moment, the sickening thought flashes through your mind: You’re not getting out of this.

But then instinct takes over. With a desperate cry, you swing the screwdriver down, the metal driving into its skull in a sickening crunch. the sound reverberating through the stillness like a death knell.

The zombie spasms, its hand loosening slightly, but not enough.

Your vision narrows, fury and survival instinct blending into a single, overpowering force. You strike again, and again, each impact a visceral symphony of shattering bone and yielding flesh. The stench grows worse, cloying and metallic, as blood splatters your hands and face.

Finally, the creature goes still, collapsing into a lifeless heap at your feet. Your chest heaves as you stagger back, the screwdriver slipping from your trembling fingers to clatter against the floor. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the rasp of your own ragged breaths.

"Fuck," you whisper, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your gaze drifts down to the bloodied mess staining the floor, bile rising in your throat. You swallow hard, forcing it down. There’s no time for weakness—not now, not ever.

When you finally look up, your stomach twists into knots. Seven figures stand over you, their faces obscured by shadow but their postures unmistakably tense.

One of them steps closer, the metallic glint of a pistol catching the dim light. Your breath hitches as the cold barrel presses against your temple, its unforgiving weight a reminder of how precarious your situation has just become.

"Who the hell are you?" One of them growls, his voice low and dangerous. The question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken threats, as you stare back at him, your mind scrambling for a response that might just keep you alive.

You swallow hard, your mouth dry as sandpaper. “Just… just a survivor,” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. The cold barrel against your temple makes your skin crawl, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. Your heart pounds so loudly, you’re sure they can all hear it. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I’ll leave. Please.”

"Drop the act," another voice cuts in, this one sharp and impatient. "The speaker steps closer, his silhouette lean and wiry, eyes narrowed. “You think we’re stupid? You’ve been listening in.”

“What should we do with her?” someone else pipes up from the shadows. His tone is casual, but the words make your stomach drop. “She could be one of them.”

“I’m not!” you blurt, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I swear, I don’t even know who you’re talking about! I just ran in here to hide!”

The gunman doesn’t lower his weapon, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. The air is thick, suffocating, as he scans your face, searching for any hint of deceit. The silence stretches unbearably until someone else breaks it.

“There’s seven of us, and she’s a girl.” one points out, this one almost amused. His tone is light, but his eyes glint with curiosity. “Not exactly the kind The Future kept around. Didn’t they kill most of their women? Called them weak or some shit.”

"Doesn’t mean she’s not a threat," the gunman mutters, but the tension in his stance eases slightly. The barrel wavers, though it remains trained on you. "Start talking. What are you doing here?"

You take a shuddering breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I was running from a horde," you say, jerking your head vaguely toward the door. Your voice is steadier now, but your trembling hands betray your fear.

“Where’s the rest of your group?” he asks, his tone laced with suspicion. “How many of you are there?”

“There’s no group,” you reply quickly, shaking your head. “It’s just me. I’ve been on my own for months.”

"On your own?" A man near the back crosses his arms, his posture sceptical. "That’s a load of bullshit. Nobody lasts this long alone." His blonde hair gleams faintly in the dim light, a beacon that would make him laughably easy to track in broad daylight. You wonder how someone so conspicuous has managed to survive this long, especially when they’re clearly being hunted.

"I’m telling the truth," you insist, your voice firm despite the quiver in your hands. “I’ve got nothing to hide. My place got overrun. I just needed somewhere to hide.”

“What place?” the blonde man carefully makes his way in front, crouching slightly, levelling his gaze with yours. The question hangs heavy, and you know your answer could mean the difference between life and death.

“A community building,” you answer, your voice quieter now. “It’s just down the street. I can show you if you don’t believe me.”

“Show us?” Another man scoffs. “You said it was overrun? Why the hell would we follow you to a place that’s crawling with them? Are you stupid?”

You bite back a retort, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. “I’m not lying,” you say, your voice sharper than before. “Look, I didn’t survive this long just to let a bunch of men decide whether to shoot me in my fucking head for being in the wrong place at the wrong bloody time.”

The man with the blonde hair tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he can’t quite solve. Then he speaks again, his tone quiet but firm. “Can we trust you?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you hold his gaze, unflinching, and nod once. Slowly, deliberately. For a moment, no one speaks. You can feel the weight of their stares, assessing, calculating.

Finally, a simple, subtle raise of the blonde’s hand is all it takes for the gunman to lower his pistol. The others, though still wary, seem to follow his lead. Relief washes over you, but you keep your face neutral, refusing to show weakness.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Jungwon.”

His name is Jungwon. It strikes you as a strangely gentle name—garden—yet nothing about him feels soft.

"If you’re lying," Jungwon warns, his tone like steel, "you won’t get a second chance." It doesn’t take long for you to realise—he’s the leader.

“I understand,” you reply, your throat tight. The words feel hollow, but they’re all you can offer.

"What’s your name?" one of them asks, his voice brighter but no less wary.

"Y/N," you reply. "And you?"

He hesitates before giving you a small, guarded smile. “Sunoo. And don’t get any funny ideas. We’re a small group, but we bite.”

The faint attempt at levity doesn’t go unnoticed, but it does little to ease the knot in your stomach. You nod again, glancing at the others. Their eyes still linger on you, like predators sizing up prey.

“You said there’s a horde,” Jungwon says, cutting through the moment. His tone is all business now. “Where’s it coming from?”

“South,” you say, your voice steady but curious. “Wait, weren’t you lot running from it too?” Your eyebrow arches as you ask, testing the waters.

“Don’t ask too many questions, or I might just kill you,” the same man who held the pistol to your head snaps, his tone as sharp as the glare he fixes on you. Tough one, you think grimly. Definitely not the friendly type.

“How big is it—the horde?” he demands, his words clipped and impatient. His posture is rigid, his eyes narrowing as though he’s daring you to lie.

“Big enough,” you answer grimly, your voice heavy with the weight of what’s chasing you. The memory of the mass of undead flashes in your mind—their grotesque forms, the relentless moans. You push it aside, forcing yourself to focus. “They’re close. If we stay here much longer, they’ll find us.”

Jungwon doesn’t hesitate. “Then we move,” he declares, his voice calm but firm, leaving no room for debate. It’s a tone you’ve heard before in those who’ve seen too much, those who lead because no one else will. “Grab your things. We leave in five.”

You swallow hard, scanning their faces. They’re already moving, collecting bags and makeshift weapons, their movements practised and efficient. You take a breath, forcing your hands to stop shaking.

“There’s a motel north-east from here, just off the horde’s course.” you say, stepping forward slightly, trying to sound confident. “I cleared it out once when I couldn’t get back to the community building. I can take you there, wait for the horde to pass, and then I’ll be on my way.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you feel the tension in the room shift. The air grows heavier, colder.

Jungwon’s sharp gaze locks onto yours, his expression unreadable, but it’s not him who speaks. The man with the sharp tongue—the one who held a pistol to your head earlier—lets out a humourless laugh. “Who said anything about letting you go?” he says, his voice dripping with malice, as though your suggestion was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.

The silence that follows his words feels suffocating, heavier than the looming threat of the undead outside. You try to keep your expression neutral, but the knot in your stomach tightens with each passing second. Your eyes flick to Jungwon, hoping for some sort of reprieve, but his face remains impassive, impossible to read.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” you say carefully, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. “I’ve survived this long on my own. I don’t need your help, and I don’t want to be in your way.”

The gunman scoffs, the corner of his mouth curling in disdain. “Bold words for someone who had a gun to their head five minutes ago.”

“Enough,” Jungwon cuts in, his voice slicing through the tension like a knife. The others fall silent, though their postures remain taut, their eyes still fixed on you. He steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as if gauging your reaction with every step.

“We don’t know you,” he says, his voice measured but carrying an edge of steel. “You could be useful, or you could be a liability. Either way, we’re not taking risks.”

Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to stand your ground. “I’ve already told you—I’m not with anyone. No group, no weapons, no agenda. Just me. If you think I’m lying, you’re wasting your time.”

He watches you for a moment longer, his dark eyes scanning your face for cracks in your resolve. Finally, he speaks. “You’ll come with us,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll see what you’re worth.”

Your stomach twists, the flicker of hope you’d allowed yourself extinguished in an instant. Your jaw clenches, but you nod. There’s no point in arguing—not when they hold all the cards.

“What if she’s dead weight?” the pistol-wielding man mutters, his arms crossed as he glares at you.

“Then she’ll stay behind,” Jungwon replies coldly, his eyes still locked on yours. The words send a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to flinch.

The group moves quickly, their actions smooth and practised as they gather their supplies. You take a moment to glance at their makeshift arsenal—rusted blades, a machete, a pistol with a half-empty box of ammo. It’s not much, but it’s enough to survive. Barely.

Jungwon’s voice cuts through the room again. “Time’s up. Let’s go.”

The group falls into formation, their movements synchronised, like they’ve done this a hundred times before. You find yourself in the middle, flanked on all sides, nothing to defend yourself with. Even the mere rusty screwdriver taken away from you.

Their message is clear: you’re not one of them. They don’t trust you.

As you step out into the night, the cool air hits your face, a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat of the room. The streets are eerily quiet, the faint groans of the undead carried on the wind. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scan the shadows, every instinct screaming at you to run. But there’s nowhere to go—not empty-handed, and certainly not without them gunning you down before you even make five feet.

Jungwon takes the lead, his blonde hair catching the faint glow of the moon as he moves with purpose. You follow closely, your senses on high alert. Every shuffle of movement, every distant sound sets your nerves on edge.

Sunoo sidles up next to you, his steps light and almost casual, though the wariness in his eyes lingers. “Don’t let Jay get to you,” he says in a low voice, his lips curving into a faint smile. “That grump always tries to come off scarier than he is. He’s actually a bit of a softie.”

Jay. The name sticks in your mind, sharp and blunt at the same time, just like the man it belongs to. You glance over at him—his posture rigid, eyes scanning the shadows like a hawk. There’s nothing soft about him now, not the way he grips the pistol or the sharp edge to his jaw as he walks a few paces ahead.

“A softie?” you murmur back, your voice sceptical. “He doesn’t look the type.”

Sunoo chuckles quietly, his expression lightening. “Oh, he’s a pain in the ass, no doubt about that. But trust me, when it comes down to it, Jay always looks after the group. Even if he’s a bit dramatic about it.”

You don’t know whether to take that as reassurance or a warning.

“Does he look after the strays too?” you ask, your tone laced with cautious humour.

Sunoo raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a playful smile. “That depends,” he says, his tone light yet probing. “Are you planning to stay a stray?”

You don’t reply, and the silence stretches just long enough for it to become uncomfortable. Sunoo seems to take the hint, letting the question hang unanswered. His smile fades slightly, but he doesn’t press further.

Instead, he shifts gears, his voice dropping low enough to avoid drawing the attention of the others. “So, this motel of yours,” he begins, tilting his head. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” you reply, keeping your voice steady, though the scepticism in his tone pricks at you. “It’s just a place I found. Empty, at least the last time I checked.”

“And if it’s not?” he presses, his brow furrowing as his sharp eyes flick to your face. There’s no malice there, just careful calculation, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re bluffing.

“Then we’ll deal with it,” you say firmly. “Like I’ve dealt with everything else.”

He studies you for a moment longer before nodding, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. “Fair enough.”

You nod back, though your attention is already shifting, your gaze flicking from Sunoo to Jungwon, before landing on Jay. He hasn’t so much as glanced in your direction since leaving the shop, but you can feel the weight of his presence, like a storm cloud hanging overhead. Softie or not, there’s no denying he’s dangerous.

This whole group is dangerous. Not just in the way they pointed a gun at your head. You’d have done the same if the roles were reversed.

No, it’s something deeper than that. It’s in the way they move together, a silent understanding passing between them. It’s in the way they trust each other without needing to speak. That trust feels foreign to you.

Distrust is second nature now, woven into every fibre of your being. It has kept you alive, but here, it feels like a barrier, separating you from the unspoken bond that holds them together. They don’t trust you, and you can’t blame them. You’re the outsider, the unknown element, and trust is a commodity none of you can afford to give freely—not for you, and certainly not for them.

The group moves swiftly through the shadowed streets, their footsteps light but purposeful. You walk in the middle of their formation, acutely aware of how exposed you all are. Every darkened alley, every overturned car feels like a trap waiting to spring.

Suddenly, Jungwon raises a hand, his entire body going still. The shift is immediate—the group halts in unison, their movements instinctive, like a well-oiled machine. Your breath catches, your heart pounding like a drum as you strain your ears. At first, there’s nothing but the faint rustling of the wind. Then you hear it—shuffling, faint but unmistakable, just ahead.

“Eyes up,” Jay mutters, his voice barely above a whisper as he tightens his grip on the pistol.

The group edges closer to the corner of a crumbling building, each step measured and deliberate. Jungwon moves first, peering around the edge with slow precision. His posture stiffens, and when he pulls back, his expression is grim.

“A group of them, about thirty, maybe more.” You feel a chill run down your spine.

“South?” Jay hisses, his sharp glare cutting through the dim light as he looks over his shoulder at you. “You said they were coming from the south.”

“They are,” you snap back defensively, lowering your voice but unable to hide the edge in your tone. “How was I supposed to know they’re crawling here too?”

Jay lets out a low, humourless laugh, his head shaking lightly. “This is exactly why we didn’t believe you when you said you survived the city all alone.”

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the rising tension. “Now’s not the time for this,” someone says—the voice calm but clipped, firm enough to settle the brewing argument. You glance towards the speaker, realising you still haven’t put a name to his face. “Why are there so many of them tonight?”

You shake your head, the unease in your chest growing heavier. “Tonight is… different,” you admit, your voice wavering slightly. “There seem to be more of them roaming the streets. It’s like something’s drawn them here.”

“Yeah, like a scream of some sort.” The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Slowly, one by one, the group turns their heads toward you.

Your stomach drops, and you open your mouth to protest, but the conversation is cut short by a sudden, guttural growl. One of the zombies has noticed you. Its milky, lifeless eyes locking onto the group as it lets out a low, haunting moan.

“Shit,” Jungwon mutters under his breath, his grip tightening on the hilt of his blade.

The moan spreads like a signal, the rest of the horde turning their decayed heads in unison. Their shuffling quickens, their jerky movements laced with unnatural determination.

“Here they come,” Jay snaps, his voice sharp as he raises his pistol.

“Sunghoon, they’re coming from the back too!” Sunoo’s voice rises in alarm, his gaze darting to the rear of the group. You whip your head around, your blood running cold as more figures stumble into view behind you.

“We can’t fight them all,” Sunghoon says, panic bleeding into his usually calm tone.

For a moment, everything feels suspended—the groans of the undead growing louder, the sharp intakes of breath from the group, the suffocating realisation that escape is narrowing with every passing second. Then, with a voice like tempered steel, Jungwon breaks the paralysis.

“Move!” he commands, his voice slicing through the chaos.

The group breaks into a run, weaving through the narrow streets and abandoned cars. The sound of shuffling feet and guttural growls follows close behind, a relentless reminder of what’s chasing you.

Your lungs burn, and your legs ache, but you keep moving, driven by pure adrenaline. As you round a corner, the motel comes into view—a squat, two-storey building with boarded-up windows. Relief surges through you, but it’s fleeting. The dead are still on your heels.

“There!” you shout, pointing toward the motel. “We can barricade ourselves inside!”

Jungwon nods, taking the lead as the group sprints toward the building. Jay fires a few shots over his shoulder, each one finding its mark, but it only slows the horde momentarily.

“Go, go, go!” Sunoo yells, holding the door open as the group piles inside.

The moment you’re inside, you move instinctively, grabbing a nearby desk and shoving it against the door with Sunghoon’s help. The others pile on whatever they can find—chairs, shelves, anything to hold the door shut. The pounding starts almost immediately, a grim reminder of how little time you have.

“We can’t stay here,” says someone whose name you haven’t learned, his voice trembling as he steps back, his wide eyes darting between the barricade and the rest of the group. “They’ll break through eventually.”

Jungwon turns to you, his dark, calculating eyes pinning you in place. “You said you cleared this place before,” he says, his voice steady despite the chaos. “Is there another way out?”

“There’s a back exit,” you say, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “But it’s narrow. If they cut us off—”

“We don’t have a choice,” Jungwon interrupts. “We’ll make it work.”

The pounding intensifies, the barricade creaking under the strain. The group exchanges tense glances, their exhaustion mirrored in each other’s faces. Your palms are slick with sweat as you clench your fists, the urge to act warring with the mounting dread in your gut.

“Let’s go,” Jungwon says sharply, gesturing for the group to fall into formation. He starts toward the back, his movements quick and precise, but you grab the edge of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“Give me a weapon to defend myself with,” you say, your voice low but firm.

“No,” he replies instantly, not even breaking his stride.

Your grip tightens, forcing him to pause. “Jungwon,” you say, your tone urgent but measured, “I can see you care a lot about your group. I also know that when push comes to shove, I won’t be your priority. If you can’t guarantee my safety, then I need something to defend myself with.”

He hesitates, his brow furrowing deeply. The pounding against the barricade grows louder, each crash like a warning bell, and you can feel the impatience bubbling beneath your skin.

“Please,” you press, your voice softening but losing none of its intensity.

For a moment, he stares at you, the tension in his jaw betraying his internal debate. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he reaches into his belt and pulls out a small, serrated knife. “Fine,” he says, his tone clipped, handing it to you. “But you stay close to me. No exceptions.”

Relief floods through you as you take the weapon, the cool metal solid and reassuring in your hand. “Understood,” you say, nodding quickly.

“Move!” Jungwon orders, his voice cutting through the noise. The group springs into action, heading toward the narrow corridor that leads to the back exit. Your heart pounds as you grip the knife tightly, your eyes darting to the barricade one last time.

The group moves quickly, the narrow corridor pressing in on all sides. Every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet feels deafening, every shadow a potential ambush. Jungwon leads the way, his blade gleaming faintly in the dim light as he keeps his focus locked on the path ahead.

“Stay close,” he mutters, glancing back at you for a fraction of a second before returning his attention forward.

The pounding on the barricade grows faint behind you, but a new sound takes its place—the unmistakable shuffle and groans of the undead echoing off the walls. The noise comes from ahead and behind, a cruel symphony that makes your stomach churn.

You’re surrounded.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you don’t even know who is speaking, all you can tell is—he’s panicking.

The group halts, frozen as the reality of your situation sinks in. Jay takes a sharp breath, glancing over his shoulder. “They’ve cut us off,” he says grimly. “We’re trapped.”

“Keep moving,” Jungwon orders, though his voice is taut with tension. “We fight through. There’s no other choice.”

As if on cue, a wave of zombies emerges from the shadows ahead. Their decayed faces twist into grotesque mockeries of hunger, their milky eyes locking onto the group. The moans grow louder, their jerky movements speeding up as they close the distance.

Raising his pistol, Jay fires a clean shot, dropping the lead zombie, but the rest surge forward undeterred.

You tighten your grip on the knife Jungwon gave you, your palms sweaty. The first zombie lunges, and Jungwon meets it head-on, his blade diving into its skull with practiced precision. Another takes its place immediately, forcing him back.

“Behind you!” you yell, spotting movement in the shadows. A zombie stumbles toward Jungwon, its bony hands reaching for him.

Without thinking, you surge forward, driving your knife into its temple before it can lay a hand on him. The impact sends a jolt through your arm, but the creature collapses instantly, its lifeless body hitting the ground at Jungwon’s feet.

He spins around, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing in acknowledgment. “Thanks,” he mutters, before plunging his blade into another.

You barely have time to catch your breath before you spot it—a narrow opening in the wall ahead, barely visible in the chaos. It’s just large enough to squeeze through, and beyond it, you can see an open street.

Your heart pounds as the thought crystallises in your mind: freedom. You could run. You could escape. You could leave all of this behind and save yourself.

The idea is tempting. The promise of survival so close you can almost taste it. But as quickly as it takes root, something stronger rises to smother it. Something within you that won’t allow you to abandon them. These people—dangerous and distrustful as they are—are fighting to survive, just like you.

Your gaze flickers back to the group. Jungwon, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision, glances back to check on Jay before taking on another zombie. Jay’s pistol rings out, his shots deliberate and controlled, his sharp eyes scanning for threats to the others. Sunghoon swings a crowbar with brute force, stepping in to shield Sunoo when he falters.

They’re… looking out for each other…?

You hesitate, the knife in your hand growing heavier with every passing second. It’s not just survival fueling them—it’s something more. Something you haven’t seen in a long time.

After everything—the chaos, the selfishness, the betrayal—you didn’t think there was any humanity left in people. Not after what went down at the community building.

You’ve seen what desperation does to people, how it strips them bare, leaving nothing but fear and greed in its wake. You can still see the faces of the ones who abandoned their own blood. The ones who took more than their share, who fought over scraps while others starved, who left others behind to die just to save themselves.

And yet, here you are, watching this ragtag group fight not just for themselves, but for each other.

There’s something different about the way they move. It’s primal, yes, but not animalistic. They swing their weapons with purpose, shouting warnings to each other, putting themselves in danger to keep one another alive—not because they have to, but because they choose to.

They’re holding on to something—civility, camaraderie, maybe hope. Or maybe it’s the uncanny refusal to let go of what makes them human, even when the world around them is anything but. It makes your chest ache, this flicker of humanity you thought was long dead.

You aren’t sure why—not entirely. Maybe it’s the look of determination on their faces. Maybe it’s that fleeting look of surprise in Jungwon’s eyes when you saved him that stays with you. The unspoken gratitude, the trust he gave you in return. Maybe it’s the fire in your chest that refuses to let you be like the others, the ones who ran when things got hard. To hold on to what little humanity you have left. Or maybe it’s something simpler: you just don’t want to survive alone anymore.

Your gaze shifts back to the horde. More are flooding into the corridor from both sides, their moans growing louder. The group is outnumbered, overwhelmed. If you leave now, they won’t make it.

Your grip on the knife tightens as the choice solidifies in your mind. The opening in the wall calls to you, but you can’t move toward it. Not when they’re still fighting. Not when leaving would mean becoming one of them.

You take a step forward instead, slashing at the nearest zombie before it can reach Jay. The creature collapses, and Jay’s head snaps toward you, confusion flickering across his face. He doesn’t say anything, just nods once, almost imperceptibly, before firing at the next target.

The path forward is a blur of movement and noise. You don’t think, don’t question. You just fight.

“Over there!” you shout, pointing to the opening. “There’s a way out!”

Jungwon’s head snaps up at your words, his dark eyes meeting yours. Something flickers across his face—something unreadable, a mix of surprise and something else you can’t quite place. He nods sharply, his voice steady even as chaos erupts around him. “Stay with me,” he orders. “We’ll make it out together.”

The group presses forward, fighting with renewed determination. You stand your ground, slashing at anything that comes too close, your heart pounding as adrenaline fuels every movement. The horde presses in, relentless, but inch by inch, you force your way toward the opening. For reasons you can’t fully explain, you stay close to them.

Jungwon moves ahead, his blade a blur as he carves through the oncoming zombies. You’re at the rear now, turning back occasionally to strike at anything that gets too close.

A zombie lunges from the side, its grotesque face inches from you before you drive your knife into its eye socket. The creature crumples, but the force of it pulls you off balance, and you stumble, landing hard on one knee.

“Get up!” Jay barks, his voice sharp but charged with urgency. He fires a shot over your shoulder, the bullet whizzing past to take down another zombie that had been closing in on you.

You scramble to your feet, gripping your knife with renewed determination. The narrow opening is only a few feet away now, and the others are already pushing through. Sunoo slips through first, then Sunghoon, the two of them pulling at debris on the other side to clear the way for the rest of you.

“Move, move!” Jungwon shouts, his voice cutting through the cacophony. He’s still holding the line, his blade flashing in the dim light as he keeps the horde at bay.

You shove Jay forward toward the opening, your pulse racing. “Go!”

With a grim nod, Jay ducks through the opening, leaving you and Jungwon alone with the horde. The zombies are almost upon you now, their grotesque moans filling the narrow space. Jungwon glances at you, his face slick with sweat and streaked with blood.

“You first,” he says, his tone brooking no argument.

“Not a chance,” you shoot back, slashing at a zombie that gets too close. The blade slices through its rotted neck, sending its head lolling to the side as its body collapses. “They need you. I’ll be right behind.”

For a moment, he stares at you, something flickering in his dark eyes—frustration, maybe, or something closer to understanding. Then he nods once, a sharp, decisive motion, and the two of you fall into a rhythm. His blade swings high while your knife strikes low, each movement synchronised as if you’ve been fighting together for years.

The opening is right there, but the horde is closing in fast. A zombie lunges at Jungwon from his blind spot, and before you can think, you shove him aside, your knife plunging into the creature’s chest. The impact sends both you and the zombie crashing to the ground, the stench of rot filling your nose as you wrestle against its weight.

“Y/N!” Jungwon’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and commanding. He pulls the zombie off you in one fluid motion, driving his blade into its skull. “Get up, now!”

He hauls you to your feet, his grip firm but not unkind, and together you bolt for the opening. The others are waiting on the other side, their faces pale and drawn but alive. Sunghoon reaches out, grabbing your arm to pull you through just as the horde slams into the debris you’d hastily piled to block the passage.

The group collapses onto the open street, panting and bloodied but alive. The sound of the horde pounding against the barricade is deafening, but it holds—at least for now.

“Everyone okay?” Jungwon asks, his voice steadier than it has any right to be. His eyes scan the group, lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than the others.

“Barely,” Sunoo mutters, leaning heavily on Sunghoon. “That was too close.”

Jay stands a few feet away, reloading his pistol with practised efficiency. He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “You could’ve run,” he says flatly, though there’s something in his tone that isn’t quite accusatory.

You meet his gaze, your grip tightening on the bloodied knife in your hand. “So could you.”

Jay snorts, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fair enough.”

Jungwon steps forward, his blade still clutched tightly in his hand. “We need to keep moving,” he says, his tone brisk but quieter now. “The noise will draw more of them.”

You nod, your heart still racing as you fall into step with the group. The streets ahead stretch out in shadowed uncertainty, but for the first time, you feel a flicker of something you haven’t felt in a long time. In the presence of people—people who aren’t trying to eat or kill you.

When the group reaches the edge of Seoul, where cracked asphalt gives way to gravel and the looming forest stretches into the horizon, everyone stops. The air is thick with tension, the only sounds the distant rustle of leaves and the crunch of boots on dirt. The group exchanges wary glances, but it’s Jay who breaks the silence.

“Surely she’s not coming with us back to camp,” he says bluntly, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. His pistol hangs loose in his hand, though his sharp gaze flicks to you with suspicion. Then, he turns to Jungwon. “We still don’t know anything about her.”

“She helped us escape,” one of them counters, his voice steady but calm. He’s tall, with an easy confidence, though his tone carries just enough weight to make Jay glance at him. “That’s got to count for something, doesn’t it?”

Jay doesn’t look convinced. “It doesn’t mean she’s not a liability, Heeseung.” he counters, his voice clipped. “We’ve all seen how that ends.”

“I’m standing right here, you know,” you say, your tone flat but laced with frustration. You’re too tired to hide the edge in your voice. “If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have stuck around to help.”

“Helping doesn’t mean you’re trustworthy,” Jay shoots back, narrowing his eyes. “Plenty of people are helpful—until they aren’t. Jake, why don’t you remind Jungwon what happened the last time we trusted someone?”

Jake—leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed—glances at Jay before speaking. His voice is lighter, more measured, but no less pointed. “She was armed,” he says, nodding toward the knife still clutched in your hand. “If she wanted to hurt us, she’d have done it by now.”

“She practically did,” Jay fires back, his glare intensifying. “With the way she brought that horde down on us.”

You stiffen, your exhaustion bubbling over into anger. “If you think my pathetic little scream brought in a horde that big, then you must be denser than I thought." you bite out, your tone dripping with incredulity,

Jay takes a step closer, his expression darkening. “Then why don’t you care to explain why there were so many of them tonight? You said so yourself—it’s different. Something’s drawn them here.”

The accusation hangs heavy in the air, each word sharp and biting. Your chest tightens, frustration mingling with the lingering fear from earlier. “How the hell would I know?” you snap, your voice rising slightly before you force it down. “You think I have all the answers? I’ve been on my own for months. I don’t know what’s out there any more than you do.”

“Exactly,” Jay counters, his voice cold. “You’ve been on your own. No one to vouch for you. No one to trust you. Why should we be the ones to take that risk?”

You open your mouth to argue, but Jungwon raises a hand, silencing the brewing argument. “Enough,” he says, his voice calm but commanding.

“You said you’ve been on your own." Jungwon turns to you, his dark eyes meeting yours, unblinking.

You nod slowly, meeting his gaze with as much calm as you can muster. “That’s right.”

“Then why didn’t you run?” Jungwon asks, his voice softer now, though no less searching. “You could’ve left when you saw that opening.”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and weighted with meaning. For a moment, you hesitate, your chest tightening. The truth feels raw, vulnerable, but you know it’s the only chance you have. “Because I’ve seen what happens when people leave others behind,” you say quietly, your voice steady but laced with emotion. “I… was left behind. It’s not who I want to be.”

The group falls into an uneasy silence. Even Jay says nothing, though his expression remains guarded. Sunoo glances between you and Jungwon, his face unreadable. Heeseung exhales slowly, lowering his machete just slightly, his knuckles no longer white from gripping the handle.

“She doesn’t seem like a threat to me,” Sunoo finally says, his tone softer now. “Besides, what’s one more person? It’s not like we’re overflowing with allies.”

“She could slow us down,” Jay argues, though his earlier venom seems to have dulled. “What if she can’t keep up?”

“I kept up with you just fine back there,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop.

“And she saved Jungwon. Knife to the skull. Pretty impressive, actually.” says the cheeky one you remember from the auto shop. His tone is casual, but it carries just enough humour to make Jungwon roll his eyes.

“Very funny, Ni-ki,” Jungwon says, exhaling through his nose. His expression remains unreadable as his gaze sweeps over the group.

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly weighing the risks, before finally speaking. “She comes with us, we'll figure the rest out at camp." he states firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jay mutters something under his breath, but he doesn’t protest further. Sunoo gives you a quick smile, while Heeseung offers a small nod. Ni-ki shrugs, already turning back toward the forest path.

The journey to the camp is long and fraught with silence. The group moves with practised precision, their formation tight as they navigate the dark, twisting paths that grow denser with every step. You trail close behind, clutching your knife tightly. The blood and sweat drying on your skin makes you feel grimy, but the real discomfort comes from the sharp looks Jay still throws your way whenever he glances back.

Eventually, the dense trees give way to a clearing, revealing the camp nestled among towering pines. A cluster of tents, a single battered van, and a manmade lean-to are scattered around the space, surrounded by a crude barricade of fallen logs and scavenged metal.

“Home sweet home,” Sunoo mutters, his voice tinged with fatigue as he pulls the barricade open just wide enough for the group to slip through. The camp is eerily quiet, save for the distant rustling of the forest.

You glance around, scanning the area for signs of other people, but it becomes clear that the group before you is all there is.

Weird. They don’t have much, but leaving an entire camp unattended like that is reckless, bordering on suicidal. It’s the kind of decision that makes you question their judgment.

Now you’re even more confused about your perception of these people. Are they confident? Brave? Or are they simply stupid?

It’s hard to tell.

But whatever the reason, it leaves you uneasy. Because in a world like this, confidence and bravery can look an awful lot like arrogance—and arrogance gets people killed.

“Who’s on first watch tonight?” Jungwon asks, his tone brisk and businesslike as his eyes sweep the camp.

“Jake and Ni-ki,” Heeseung replies, dropping his machete with a heavy sigh.

“Erm... both of them are already passed out over there.” Sunghoon’s voice is dry, almost amused, as he points toward the lean-to.

Your gaze follows his finger, and sure enough, you spot two figures sprawled out on the uneven ground, tangled in what looks like a half-hearted attempt at bedding. One of them is snoring softly, an arm flung carelessly over his face, while the other lies curled into himself, his back rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. They’ve managed to find the least uncomfortable positions possible in a place like this, but it’s clear they’re out cold.

Jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture that speaks to his weariness more than any words could. “Brilliant,” he mutters under his breath, the exasperation in his tone cutting through the quiet. He looks like a man who carries the weight of everyone around him, even when he doesn’t want to.

The group shifts awkwardly, the tension thick enough to press against your chest. Your fingers twitch around the handle of your knife, an unconscious reflex as you weigh your options. You don’t owe these people anything. And yet, when the words leave your mouth, they surprise even you.

“I can take first watch, and one of you can cover me after.” Your voice is steady, but the exhaustion leaks through at the edges. You don’t offer because you feel like you owe them. No, the truth is simpler: you know you won’t sleep. Even with your body screaming for rest, every muscle and bone aching from the day’s events, your mind is wide awake. Very, very awake.

Jay scoffs immediately, the sound sharp and derisive. “Like hell we would leave you on watch alone, what if you run?”

The comment makes your blood simmer, but you clamp down on the flare of frustration. Instead, you meet his glare with a level stare. “Jay, I’m really not in the mood to argue with you,” you say, your tone firm but not aggressive. “If you don’t trust me, then you can take first watch with me.”

The challenge in your voice is unmistakable, and it hangs in the air between you like a taut string. Jay’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze hardening as though he’s deciding whether to call your bluff. You hold his stare, refusing to back down, even as the silence stretches.

Your heartbeat drums in your ears, but you keep your expression steady, determined not to show weakness. You don’t know if they’ll ever trust you, but you’ve survived too long to let someone like Jay intimidate you now.

Jungwon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose again, as though trying to contain the growing tension in the camp. Finally, he lowers his hand and looks at Jay, his expression firm but calm. “I’ll take the first watch with her,” he says, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Jay’s mouth opens, likely to argue, but Jungwon cuts him off with a sharp look. “Get some rest. We’ll need everyone at least awake tomorrow.”

Jay clicks his tongue but doesn’t push further. Instead, he mutters something under his breath and stalks off toward the fire, dropping onto a log with a pointed lack of grace. The others disperse as well, settling into their makeshift bedding or sitting quietly by the fire. Jungwon turns to you.

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward a ladder tied to the side of what looks like a precariously constructed watchtower. “The view’s better up there.”

You follow him, gripping the ladder tightly as you climb. The watchtower, built from scavenged wood and tied together with ropes and wire, creaks slightly under your combined weight but holds firm. When you reach the top, you find a narrow platform with a rough wooden railing. From this vantage point, the camp feels small, a fragile sanctuary surrounded by endless darkness.

Jungwon settles near the edge, resting his blade across his lap as he scans the treeline. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes are sharp, constantly moving as though anticipating the worst.

You sit a few feet away, your knife still in hand, though you’re not entirely sure what good it will do against the night. For a while, neither of you speaks, the silence broken only by the distant rustling of leaves and the faint crackle of the fire below.

“Do you always volunteer for shit the rest doesn’t want to do?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

Jungwon glances at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not always. But someone has to do it. Might as well be me.”

You nod, your gaze drifting to the dark forest beyond the barricade. “You don’t trust me either,” you say, your voice quiet but not accusatory. It’s a statement, not a question.

He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fixed on the horizon. When he does speak, his tone is measured. “It’s not about trust. Not entirely. It’s about knowing what people are capable of when things go bad.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Yeah. I’ve seen what people are capable of.”

Jungwon glances at you again, his expression softening just slightly. “What… happened?” he asks, his voice low, as though he knows it’s a loaded question but is willing to bear the weight of it.

You hesitate, the memories clawing at the edges of your mind, threatening to drag you back into a place you’d give anything to forget. Frankly, you don’t want to answer. You don’t even want to think about it. But the past has a cruel way of lingering, forcing you to confront it over and over again, like an open wound that refuses to heal.

“The community building,” you begin slowly, the words bitter on your tongue. “It was supposed to be safe. A place where people worked together. Where we helped each other survive.”

“At least, that’s what we told ourselves. But things changed when the supplies started running low. Suddenly, it wasn’t about helping each other anymore. It was about who could take the most, who could get out alive.” You pause, your fingers tightening around the knife in your hand as the images flood your mind. The arguments over food, the mistrust that spread like rot, the way desperation revealed the ugliest parts of human nature.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words spill out, raw and jagged. “I watched people turn on each other. Families. Friends. People who’d shared meals, shared stories, who’d promised to have each other’s backs. They fought over scraps. They left others behind without a second thought. And when the barricade fell… when the dead came through…” Your voice wavers, and you clench your jaw to steady it. “They didn’t just leave the weak behind. They trampled them. Used them as bait. Anything to save themselves.”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything, but his gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable. You can’t tell if he’s judging you, pitying you, or just listening. Maybe it’s all three.

“I’d like to think the ones who made it out remember that place the way I do,” you say finally, your voice quieter now. “But I don’t think they do. I think they tell themselves it wasn’t their fault. That they had no choice. Maybe they’re right. But I had to see it, and I have to live with it.”

Jungwon watches you carefully, his expression unreadable but not unkind. After a moment, he asks, his voice low and steady, “Is that why you choose to survive alone?”

The question cuts through the quiet night, striking a nerve you hadn’t realised was exposed. You hesitate, your gaze falling to the dark ground below. “Maybe,” you admit softly. “It’s easier, I guess. No one to rely on. No one to disappoint you. No one to leave you behind.”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything immediately, but his silence feels deliberate, as though he’s giving you space to continue. You exhale slowly, the memories pressing against your chest like a weight you can’t shrug off.

“When you’re on your own, the only person you have to worry about is yourself,” you say, your voice hardening slightly. “If you make a mistake, you pay for it. If you survive, it’s because you earned it. There’s no one else to blame, and no one else to lose.”

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, and there’s a gravity in his eyes that makes you feel exposed. “But it’s also lonely,” he says quietly, as though he’s not asking but stating a fact.

You swallow hard, the truth of his words settling uncomfortably in your chest. You don’t answer, but the silence between you speaks volumes. Jungwon shifts slightly, resting his forearms on his knees as he speaks. “Not everyone would’ve made it out of that and kept going,” he says quietly. “Most people would’ve given up. You didn’t.”

You blink, his words catching you off guard. They’re not exactly comforting, but there’s a sincerity in them that makes your chest tighten, like a wound you’d forgotten you were nursing.

“I don’t know if that’s something to be proud of,” you admit, your gaze fixed on the dark forest beyond the camp.

“It is,” Jungwon says firmly, and there’s an edge of conviction in his tone that makes you glance at him. “It means you didn’t let it break you. And that’s harder than most people realise—keeping yourself from going insane. Stopping yourself from letting this fucked-up excuse of a world swallow you whole. You didn’t give in, and that counts for something.”

You study him for a moment, his face lit faintly by the moonlight, his blonde hair swaying lightly in the night breeze. His expression is calm but resolute, as though he’s been through his own version of hell and come out with his soul intact.

You’re not sure how to respond, so you don’t. Instead, you let his words sit with you, their weight lighter than the memories they’ve momentarily displaced.

“You’re not as rough around the edges as Jay seems to think,” he says after a while, his tone lighter now. “But you’re not like the others either. You’ve got... fight in you.”

You glance at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He smirks. “Take it however you want.”

“But that’s not what we do here,” he continues. “If someone falls behind, we don’t leave them.”

You turn to him, searching his face for any hint of deception, any sign that this is just a comforting lie. But his expression is earnest, his eyes unwavering.

You’ve been on your own for almost six months. You don’t even remember the last time you had a conversation this long with anyone. Words, when they did come, were usually short, functional—commands barked at yourself to keep moving, or fleeting exchanges shouted during desperate encounters.

This, sitting and talking, feels foreign. Unnatural.

It’s not that you haven’t come across other survivors. You’ve met people. Survivors who had extended a hand, offered you a place in their groups. Some seemed kind, others desperate. But you rejected them all. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford, and joining a group means opening yourself to betrayal, to risk. You’ve seen what people are capable of when the stakes are life and death. Better to keep moving on your own than rely on someone who could turn on you at any moment.

Still, sitting here with Jungwon, his calm voice cutting through the quiet night, you find yourself oddly enjoying it.

“Must be exhausting, caring about people.” you say, a faint, almost reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

Jungwon chuckles softly, the sound low and almost foreign in the stillness of the night. “It is,” he admits, his gaze flicking briefly to the camp below. The firelight dances across the faces of the others, who are finally beginning to settle down for the night. “But it’s worth it. At least, I like to think it is.”

You watch him for a moment, the corners of your mouth quirking slightly upward. “Did you know each other? Before?”

“Yup,” he says, leaning back against the rough railing of the makeshift watchtower. The faint moonlight softens the hard edges of his face as he speaks, his tone lighter now, touched with nostalgia. “Childhood friends. I’d just started university, and they wanted to come check out the campus. It was supposed to be a quick visit.”

He pauses, his gaze drifting toward the dark expanse of trees surrounding the camp. “We just so happened to be together when everything went to shit.”

The simplicity of his words doesn’t mask the weight they carry. You imagine the scene—an ordinary day, plans for the future barely set in motion, torn apart by chaos. You wonder if he thinks about how different things might’ve been if the timing had been just slightly off. If he’d been alone, or if they hadn’t been there together.

“Lucky, I guess,” you say quietly, though the word feels wrong in your mouth. Luck doesn’t feel like it belongs in this world anymore, not when it comes with such brutal cost.

“Yeah,” Jungwon replies, his voice softer now, almost like he’s agreeing and disagreeing at the same time. “Lucky.”

“What happened?” you ask cautiously, sensing the weight of his memories but curious nonetheless.

He exhales slowly, the breath heavy with remembrance. “We started out as a big group—most of the faculty ended up holed up in the auditorium. We thought we’d escape the initial chaos for the time. But someone got bit early on and hid it from the rest of us. They turned in the middle of the night. It took out half of us before we even knew what was happening.”

You swallow hard, the familiar pang of loss and horror creeping into your chest. “And the rest of you?”

“The seven of us, plus a few others, managed to get out alive,” he says, his voice tinged with a faint bitterness. “We thought our luck had turned when we ran into a group of people in military uniforms. They had tanks, rifles, the works. We thought we were safe.”

“That was The Future, wasn’t it?” you ask, recalling the name you’d overheard the others mention earlier.

Jungwon’s gaze sharpens, his expression darkening. “Do you really not know anything about The Future?”

You shake your head slowly, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. “No. I’ve been on my own for months. I’ve seen groups, but nothing that sounds like what you’re describing.”

Jungwon leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice lowers, taking on a colder edge. “They’re not a group. They’re an organisation. Big. Made up of military personnels who went rogue when they realised the government couldn’t control the outbreak, and high profile politicians started to abandon the people to save themselves.”

Your stomach twists uncomfortably, the weight of his words sinking in. The idea of a well-organised, militarised group with no one to answer to makes your skin crawl. “And you escaped from them?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

He nods, his jaw tightening. “Barely.”

“If they’re so strong,” you press cautiously, “why did you leave?”

Jungwon’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze dropping briefly to the dark ground below before lifting to meet yours again. “Their way of surviving… it’s messed up,” he says, his tone grim. “It isn’t about helping anyone—it’s about control. They take what they want. Supplies, people, anything they think they can use. If they decide you’re deadweight, just another mouth to feed, they won’t hesitate to…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you.

Your throat feels tight. “Is that why Jake said they’d gotten rid off all their women?” you ask tentatively, the memory of Jake’s earlier comment sharp in your mind.

Jungwon’s expression darkens further. “Not all,” he corrects, though the words do little to ease the growing unease in your chest. “Just those who, to them, served no purpose. And not just women. Children. The elderly. Anyone with a disability, or even someone who was sick—whether it was visible or not. If you couldn’t pull your weight or be useful to their ‘mission,’ you were as good as dead.”

Your stomach churns, bile rising in your throat. “That’s not survival,” you say quietly, your voice shaking slightly. “That’s—”

“Evil?” Jungwon finishes for you, his tone bitter. “Yeah. It is. They hide it under words like ‘efficiency’ and ‘necessity,’ but it’s just cruelty. That’s why we left.”

You can see the weight of the memories in his eyes, the lingering shadows of everything he’s seen and done to survive. For a moment, the silence between you feels suffocating, the distant rustle of the forest doing little to break the tension.

“How many of you escaped?” you ask, though you’re not sure you want to know the answer.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re all that’s left.” he says simply, his voice carrying the weight of names and faces you’ll likely never know.

He leans back against the watchtower railing, his shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of the past has settled there. “We’ve been running ever since. Trying to stay ahead of them. Trying to survive without becoming like them.”

The knot in your stomach tightens further. The apocalypse had already stripped the world of so much—life, hope, humanity—and now it seemed to have given rise to something even worse.

You glance down at the camp below, at the group who had been wary of you, who still didn’t fully trust you. Yet despite everything, they’d chosen to leave a place like that behind, to hold onto something resembling morality.

“Must’ve taken a lot,” you say quietly. “To leave. To fight back.”

“It did,” Jungwon replies, his voice steady but tired. “But if surviving means losing everything that makes us human, then what’s the point?”

His words linger in the cool night air, settling deep into your bones. For the first time, you realise that you and the group aren’t so different after all. Just ordinary people, barely on the cusp of adulthood, thrust into a world that demands you play the role of protectors. Not because you’re ready, but because the ones who should have been there to protect you failed. Now, all you have is each other, forced to fill the gaps left behind by the people who should have kept you safe.

"But why are they still trying to hunt you down?" you ask, the question slipping out before you can think twice. It lingers in the air between you, heavy with curiosity and unease.

Jungwon’s jaw tightens, his gaze shifting to the dark treeline beyond the camp. For a moment, it seems like he might not answer. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leans forward again, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Because we didn’t just leave,” he says, his voice low and edged with something darker—regret, perhaps, or anger. “We took supplies. Food, medicine, weapons. Enough to give us a fighting chance out here. To them, that’s unforgivable. They don’t see people. They see assets. Resources they think they own.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as you process his words. “You think they’re after the supplies you took?”

“It’s not just about the supplies,” Jungwon replies, his tone grim. “It���s about control. We embarrassed them. Made them look weak. To The Future, that’s worse than losing anything physical. If they let us go, it sets a precedent. It shows people that they’re not invincible, and then what is to stop others from doing the same?”

Your stomach churns. “So they’re chasing you to make an example of you.”

“Exactly,” he says, his voice colder now. “They want everyone to know what happens when you cross them. And they won’t stop until they get what they want.”

The weight of his words settles heavily in your chest, the reality of their situation sinking in. It’s not just survival they’re fighting for—it’s freedom from a force that refuses to let them go. You glance back at Jungwon, his expression calm but laced with something harder, something forged by experience.

“How long have you been running?” you ask softly.

Jungwon exhales, the sound low and tired. “Almost six months,” he admits, his gaze fixed on the treeline.

There’s a pause before he continues, quieter this time, as though saying it aloud makes it more real. “Although… we think we might have lost them. For now. But we’re always ready to keep moving. Always looking over our shoulders.”

“Every time we think we’re safe enough to settle down, they find us,” he murmurs. “Like an obsessive ex-girlfriend, you know?”

The analogy catches you off guard, and you chuckle despite the seriousness of the conversation. It’s a strained laugh, but genuine—a brief flicker of something human in the midst of everything bleak. “The kind that won’t take a hint?”

Jungwon huffs a small laugh of his own, though there’s no real humour behind it. “Exactly.” He glances at you, a shadow of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Except this one’s got a lot more firepower.”

That explains it. Why they were so willing to leave the camp unattended, why they carried more supplies on their backs than they could possibly need. It wasn’t out of carelessness or greed—it was strategy. They packed light enough to keep moving, but just heavy enough to make sure they wouldn’t have to stop.

Everything they did was calculated, preparing for the worst. Ready to run at a moment’s notice if the situation demanded it.

Ready to disappear without a trace.

The fire below flickers, its faint glow casting long shadows across his face. For a moment, you see the weariness behind his sharp exterior, the cracks in the armour he’s built to protect himself and the people he cares about.

“You said tonight was different—you said there were a lot more of them than usual. Why did you think that way?” Jungwon asks, his tone low and measured, though his eyes flicker with unease.

You hesitate, chewing on your thoughts. The question pulls at loose threads in your mind, unravelling memories of the streets you’ve come to know too well. Images flash behind your eyes—the empty alleys, the shifting shadows, the silence that stretches too long before it breaks. You’ve always trusted your gut, and tonight, it screamed louder than ever.

Something is wrong.

“The city is… unpredictable,” you reply carefully, the words slow as you try to make sense of the thoughts swirling in your head. “Some days, the streets are empty. You might see the occasional horde passing through. They linger for a bit before something else catches their attention—a noise, a movement, anything that draws them away.”

“But hordes… they’re creatures of habit,” Jungwon listens intently as you continue, his brow furrowed, tension tightening his posture. “The noise they make keeps them together, pulling in the surrounding stragglers to join their little marching band. It’s a cycle. And that’s what makes them manageable. You can figure out their patterns, track the way they move, and avoid them if you’re careful.”

“But tonight, though…” You pause, the words lingering on your tongue like a bad taste you can’t quite spit out. “It wasn’t just one or two. It felt like they were coming from everywhere. Every direction.”

Jungwon’s gaze flickers to meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. His expression hardens, the flicker of dread in his eyes matching your own.

“Like someone put them there.”

The words hang in the air, thick and heavy. As soon as you finish, the thought sends a chill down your spine, settling deep in your chest. The silence stretches between you both, tense and oppressive, as the weight of the implication sinks in.

The idea that someone—anyone—might be capable of coordinating something so horrifying is almost impossible to comprehend. Almost.

“Do you think it was deliberate?” you ask, your voice quieter now, as if afraid to hear the answer.

Jungwon exhales slowly, his expression hardening. “Truth is, we don’t know for sure. We were in the city earlier, scouting for car parts to fix up the van. That’s when we thought we ran into members of The Future. But one thing about them—they don’t fuck with the cities. They stick to the communities near their base, taking whatever they need—supplies, weapons, fuel. They think the cities are too dangerous, too unpredictable.” His words hang in the air for a moment before he continues, his voice darker now. “But the way the hordes moved tonight... it felt like someone wanted them to sweep the area.”

The thought settles over you like a heavy fog. “But you don’t think it’s them? The Future?”

Jungwon shakes his head, though the hesitation in his expression is hard to miss. “It’s not their style. They don’t deal in chaos—they deal in control. And releasing hordes into the city? That’s reckless. Dangerous, even for them.”

“If it wasn’t them...” you start, but your voice falters.

Jungwon’s gaze sharpens as it meets yours, steady but grim.

“Then it’s someone else."

You sense that the weight of the conversation is more than you can handle for the rest of the night, and you know Jungwon senses it too. The quiet lingers between you, heavy but not unpleasant, the kind that almost invites you to leave the darkness of your thoughts behind.

“Should I go wake Jake and Ni-ki up for their shift?” you suggest, breaking the silence. You’re not sure whether the talk with Jungwon has helped ease some of your inner turmoil or if the sheer exhaustion from the day’s events is finally catching up to you, but your eyelids are growing heavier with every passing second.

Jungwon shakes his head slightly, his voice calm and even. “I’m actually just going to keep watch for the night. You can turn in if you’re tired.”

You blink at him, his words jolting you back to focus. “What?” you ask, disbelief lacing your tone. “In that case, we’ll take turns. There’s no way I’m leaving you up here alone the entire night. I can only imagine what Jay’s got to say when he wakes up tomorrow and finds out.”

Jungwon’s lips twitch, and then, to your surprise, he laughs—a genuine, unguarded laugh. The sound is startlingly warm, almost foreign in the bleakness of the night. For a moment, it feels like the world around you isn’t as broken as it really is.

“Fine,” he says, shaking his head in mild amusement. “You can rest first. I’ll wake you in an hour.”

His words carry a gentleness you hadn’t expected, and it throws you off balance more than you’d like to admit. You study his face—the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the faint trace of a smile still lingering.

You hesitate, your exhaustion pulling at you, but the lingering sense of distrust—of everything, not just him—roots you in place. “You sure?” you mumble, your voice heavy with fatigue.

“Yeah,” he says with a faint nod, his eyes scanning the dark forest beyond the camp. “I’ve got it.”

“Alright,” you finally agree, leaning back against the railing and letting yourself relax just a fraction. “But don’t forget to wake me.”

“I won’t,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost reassuring.

The weight of the day presses down on you like a blanket, and despite your reluctance, you feel your body begin to give in.

Leaning back against the rough planks of the watchtower, you close your eyes, telling yourself you’re just resting them for a moment. But the distant rustling of the trees, the faint crackle of the campfire below, and the steady presence of Jungwon beside you lull you into a state of half-awareness.

At some point, you shift unconsciously, your head tilting until it finds something solid—warm. You’re too far gone to realise what’s happened, the exhaustion dragging you under.

masterlist | part 2 - warmth

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

notes from nat: i'm adapting a new form of writing specifically for this setting. i think i mentioned before how i struggle describing present moments over writing thoughts and monologues. lo and behold, turns out an apocalypse au is all about the present moment... i'm taking this as a challenge and honestly don't have high hopes. but i sincerely appreciate the read from all of you! things will start picking up in the next part~

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @catlicense @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt @neocockthotology @Starryhani @aishisgrey @katarinamae @mitmit01 @youcancometome @cupiddolle @classicroyalty @dearsjaeyun @ikeucakeu @sammie217 @tinycatharsis @M1kkso

taglist open. @sungbyhoon @theothernads @kyshhhhhh @jiryunn @strxwbloody @jaklvbub @rikikiynikilcykiki @jakesimfromstatefarm @rikiiisoob @doublebunv @thinkinboutbin @eunandonly @wilonevys @sugarikiz @jellymiki @adoredbyjay @rebeccaaaaaaaa @baedreamverse @bamguetismee @flwwon @l1s0ro @st4rgirl1235

[divinish-comedy]

"He was a defense attorney without peer. It sounds trite, but it's true. Well, he may have had one peer now that I think about it. Your mentor, Mia Fey"

[some-pers0n]

Every once in a while I think about the ship I've been obsessed over for close to two years now and feel like I'm ascending to another plane of reality. Like sometimes you just encounter a ship that hits every single mark and is perfect in every regard and you're left stunned how something like that can even exist

[ripplestitchskein]

What I loved most about Sinsmas is how well it’s setting up what will be the probable trajectory of Season 3 while resolving the conflicts of Season 2.

Octavia and Blitz are set on a similar path, realizing that Stolas needs more than they can give him, but not because they aren’t enough but because he has a mental illness. This conflict is setup explicitly to tie in with Barbie, Blitz will realize that whatever happened probably wasn’t as much his fault as he thinks, she just needed more than he could give alone. So I stand by the speculation that resolving Stolas and Blitz next season is going to be directly paralleled by Blitz and Barbie but will at the same time bring Octavia and Blitz into an accord.

Stolas will be getting several more reality checks and will spiral pretty hard, but I am holding on to faith that we will get a happy medium between getting proper treatment and reconciling his relationship with Blitz. I think Sinsmas did a great job setting up him as not realizing his continued unhappiness, even though he got everything he wanted with Blitz, is not a reflection on their relationship being ill suited but because he does have a mental illness that he is not treating properly or sharing with those around him. Blitz sidestepping the horse backstory while Stolas pulls back on asking him for help getting his meds was a perfect and succinct way to show this upcoming conflict.

Just excellent visuals with that all around. Blitz being the one to snuggle and try to be close to him while Stolas is the one closed off and refusing to relent was really solid. I would bet on this being the opening imagery of S3, some rehashing of Blitz trying but Stolas remaining closed off and that leading to a split that is slowly repaired over the course of the season, ending with them finally embracing each other.

The subtle cues from the imps of hell during the domesticity montage also great. Just this hatred Hell has for Stolas and how they will have to fight to be together. Like this was echoed in the fight with Andy as well, Stolas succumbing to being swallowed alive by a monster and Blitz going after him. Depression metaphor wow. The fight itself could be echoed in S3 too but this time with them working together.

And then everything with Millie, like her still not being on the same page when it comes to a family with kids while Moxxie and Blitz are opposed. Her reassuring Moxxie that her not wanting this doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him, and how that will play through S3.

Seeing Loona taking more responsibilities and stepping in for her father, seeing her with friends excited about board games. Too cute. I don’t know where she’ll go in S3 but I love her development so far and how they’ve taken a quieter approach to her parallels with Octavia and Stolitz.

Just a really great season finale.

[girlbossblackbeard]

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you

[starlight-bread-blog]

Why I No Longer Ship Zvtara

Warning: This is a very anti zvtara & pro kataang post. This is your chance to leave.

As some of you may know, I am (or rather was), a Zvtara shipper. But lately I've been shying away from the ship. A lot of the arguments I used to believe in, for me, don't hold water anymore. And given how vocal I was about shipping Zvtara, I feel like I owe you an explanation. In this post I will go through common pro Zvtara & anti kataang arguments and unpack why I can no longer support them in good faith. (I will kinda burn through them though, it's just that feel like I owe you this).

"Zvko and Katara's character arcs & characters are parallels"

This is interesting because I wrote an essay on this very subject, and I still stand by everything I said in the essay, but only as a platonic reading of it. See, A:TLA is full of parallels and symbolism. Zuko also has parallels with Aang, Katara has parallels with Azula, etc. In a show like this, the parallels between Zuko and Katara don't carry enough weight to justify some specialness. They have a great, incredibly well written relationship, but in my opinion, the extent of it can remain platonic without standing out.

"Tui and La represent Zvtara"

Tui and La are The Ocean and the Moon spirits and very explicitly represent Yin and Yang. I can't see Yin and Yang as Zutara for two reasons:

1) Yin is the moon, feminine and shade. The moon & feminine, that's Katara. But Yin is characterized by dark, wetness, cold, passivity, disintegration etc). Katara might have an edge, but she is not dark. Not to mention passive. And disintegration seems like the opposite of a waterbender. Katara fundamentally is not a Yin.

2) Yin and Yang is a dynamic. A self perpetuating dynamic of two opposites creating and controlling each other. Katara and Zuko never created each other. While you can argue that they control each other by being "capturing the avatar" vs "protecting the avatar", the only time this conflict of interest ever turned into a dynamic was in the north pole, and by then Zuko would go on a season long journey far away from Katara.

"Making Zvtara canon would be thematically cohesive"

I also wrote an essay on this subject, and just like my other essay, I still stand by a platonic reading of it. I even went back and edited it to make that reading more prominent. The thematic cohesion is already achieved through their platonic bond. In any show, naturally the relationships between characters are going to reflect the themes, that's just how writing works. It doesn't mean the relationship should be romantic. They already have a thematically cohesive relationship, making it a romantic one doesn't add anything.

"Aang idealizes Katara"

For context, there are some instances where Aang is dismissing Katara's anger. For example, in The Chase:

Toph: You're blaming me for this?

Katara tosses aside her sleeping bag and gestures with her hands, challenging Toph to move closer. Aang jumps in between the two.

Aang[Desperately.]: No! No, she's not blaming you.

Katara[Angrily.]: No, I'm blaming her!

Rather these instances reflect of idealization, or merely of Aang's peace seeking nature that's trying to de escalate the situation, is up to interpretation. I choose to interpret them as the latter, because of The Southern Raiders.

Katara: We're going to find the man who took my mother from me.

Sokka pauses and stands up, surprised.

Zuko: Sokka told me the story of what happened. I know who did it and I know how to find him.

Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?

A really common talking point in the Zvtara fandom is that Aang just assumes that Katara is going to murder her mother's killer, instead of simply confronting him. Either way, he knows\thinks she's talking about murder. If he'd idealized her, he'd make a different assumption.

"Kataang harms Aang's character arc"

This is referring to the dilemma presented to Aang in The Guru. He had to let go of his attachment to Katara in order to master the Avatar State. The assumption is that his chakra was blocked, therefore he didn't let go. I disagree. We see him open his seventh chakra right before Azula shoots lightning at him.

One might argue that nothing changed about Aang's relationship to Katara, so the dilemma rings hollow. But something did change, Aang was romantically braver than he was before. He got more confident. Compare his flirting from The Headbend (b3) to The Fortuneteller (b1). It's night and day. And if you ask me, this is the natural consequence of feeling less attached.

Furthermore, when he explains to the GAang why he couldn't master the Avatar State, he cites Azula's lightning as the reason:

Toph: So, what's your strategy for taking him down? Gonna get your glow on and hit him with a little Avatar State action? Aang: I can't. When Azula shot me with lightning, my seventh chakra was locked, cutting off my connection to all the cosmic energy in the universe.

He couldn't master the Avatar State because of Azula's lightning, not because of his attachment to Katara. (I heard some people say this was confirmed that Aang was still attached, but I'm a big believer in Death of the Author so I don't really care if it's true).

"Kataang was one sided"

The general consensus in the Zvtara fandom is that Kataang is framed from Aang's perspective, and while the show teases us about Katara's feelings to create a "will they get together or won't they" tension. But can all of these hints really be contextualized that way? Some can, others, not so much. For example, Katara is show to be jealous of Aang in The Headbend when he dances with On Ji, and when they dance she gives him a loving look; in The Cave of Two Lovers, Katara smiles when she suggested they should kiss, and she blushes at the end of the episode. All of these moments cannot be swept under the rug in favor of a reveal that Katara didn't love Aang.

"Katara passing herself as Aang's mom is maternal"

I never really understood this argument, if I'm being completely honest. For two reasons:

1) In Howl's Moving Castle, Sophie works as Howl assistant and falls in love with him, but she's cursed, looking like an old lady. There's a scene where she too has to pretend to be his mom, and it turns into her realizing her feelings towards him. She becomes young again, a girl Howl's age. It's a beautiful confession, while pretending to be his mom. No one criticized that, becuase pretending to be someone's mom for the sake of a mission isn't maternal.

2) Sokka is also there. I don't think it's controversial to say Sokka isn't at all a parental figure to Aang. That's because the point of this joke isn't that Katara actually is motherly towards Aang, it's that they aren't actually similar to [Aang]'s supposed parents and this entire situaton is very silly. The implication behind this joke isn't that Katara is maternal towards Aang, but that she isn't.

SO! That's all I'm covering. Now, I hope I can put this subject to rest and discuss the many other great aspects of A:TLA.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

an ISAT animatic popped up and reminded me of my favourite trope, so now more crumbs manifest:

TIME LOOPS!

time loop where reader goes back to the very beginning of her adventure, and now has to face the fact that the cubs were warlords, and now she has a second chance to do things over. perhaps this time, she can escape their attention. reader is, unfortunately, a bleeding heart, and always picks them up, so its a case of trying to be as uninteresting and apathetic as possible while getting them to flower fruit mountain.

but reader cant hide how much she cares. throwing herself in front of threats, taking care of their injuries with great care, always being gentle with them.

the only way she could escape their love would to stop being compassionate, but compassion is an inherent trait to reader.

no matter what she does, no matter how much she changes between each loop they still love her anyways. she can never escape.

TIME LOOPS!

time loop where the monkey duo constantly re-experience the day reader successfully escapes back to her world. you would think being overpowered would help, but no. it seems like reader was going to escape them, one way or the other. the very first time they managed to stop her from returning back to her world, she perished, presumably from her injuries.

only after many more loops do they realise that reader is the cause in every loop she has died. today was the day she was going to escape them, one way or the other.

they just keep losing her.

TIME LOOPS!

you know how there is an encounter where sun wukong and macaque fight in jttw/lmk, and how sun wukong kills macaque?(idk how lmk handles it) how about reliving that day, again and again, until wukong can figure out a way to not kill him? starting at the very beginning of the confrontation, ending a few moments after the fatal blow.

one loop he manages to delay the fight, trying to see if making it through the day will break the loop.

nope!

once the sun sets, it loops straight back to the beginning of the confrontation.

and he cant exactly die to escape the loops, can he? and trying to not fight macaque leads macaque to try and kill the pilgrims instead, and if sun wukong doesn't protect them, then its circlet time! he always has to fight macaque

is this punishment for killing his love? to forever relive his final day by his hand?

TIME LOOPS!

honestly someone should do the pilgrims in an JTTW/LMK X ISAT AU, i would read it. its 5 for 5 and if sun wukong takes the place of siffrin macaque could take the place of loop. lady bone demon as the king, tripitaka as the person who is the key to the party's adventure, pigsy and sandy rounding out the team, and ao lie as the support.

idk who would be headmaiden tho. don't know enough characters off the top of my head.

you could even have a reflection in lmk, and draw parallels of the last time it happened, make wukong think he went back into the time loops again, but its mk this time instead

TIME LOOPS!

i can never get enough of them. i hope you like my crumbs as much as i like your fics.

Okay first things first. I am so sorry that I am definitely going out of order with these Crumbs!

I get ideas for one and it’s not the one I’m supposed to be working on and I am sorry. But~ I do love these crumbs and am trying to work my way through them. One at a time~ Get it time hehe!

I can’t honestly say that I know much if anything really about ISAT. So forgive me for only understanding time loops.

Now as for time loops? I can’t say I’d be putting them in my main fic. However! These are amazing ideas which would be so angsty!

One minute Reader in stuck on Flower Fruit Mountian and the next she is back standing under the tree that she first met the monkeys under. They had just fallen and she was holding them in her arms. She wants to throw them out and run, everything in her tells her to run… but, how could she!?

These are her monkeys! The same ones who she cared for and loved for months.

Reader staring at Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque. Both were staring back at her for just a moment before one of them bit her! Even with the tiny teeth biting into her skin she didn’t feel pain, this kind of pain was nothing to her now. Tears filled her eyes catching Spirit’s attention.

“Reader? Are you alright? Damn cub he needs to let you-“ She was cut off as you held the two closer to you trying to push away any thoughts of what was to come.

You could throw them out, you could push them away but… how could you? They were so small, so defenseless right now. Even knowing who and what they are you can’t bring yourself to do anything but hold them. They were perfect like this, they had been so sweet and kind to you with an innocence that you truly believed in. However even while they were still ‘sweet’ and ‘kind’ to you in the future they were so dangerous and murderous now.

"Reader let the monkey go," Spirit said calmly, however at her words you did the exact opposite, you couldn't, you couldn't let them go.

"Flower Fruit Mountain... there is a way home on Flower Fruit Mountain, I know where it is on the island," you finally said.

The way home from there wasn't destroyed yet and you had time. You had the time to get them there and get home before the curse broke. You were sure that you had the time, the time to get Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque back to their home before they would fall in love. Just ignore their looks and don’t let them get out of sight. Easy, it was just that easy.

You wished it had been that easy, at every turn these two tried to run off. They thought they were still invincible and weren’t listening to anything you would say. You tried to be mean to a point but just one look at their faces and you would melt.

“It’s not fair,” you grumbled one night after Spirit laid down to bed. She didn’t think you should bring the monkey cubs along but you refused to leave them behind.

Both monkeys looked at you and cocked their heads to the side. They didn’t run away because it was so dark that you could barely see anything in the forest around you even with the fire blazing in front of you. Monsters stayed away from these flames, it was odd but very helpful in the woods.

“After everything I should hate you two, but how can I do that when you are so… I shouldn’t even be saying anything…” The two in front of you were confused at your words but you attempted not to say anything.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked as you looked at them. It was so unfair. They were defenseless and weak right now anything could hurt them. Maybe that was why, maybe that was why you wanted to see them back in their Warlord forms. At least then they’d be able to fight for their own protection.

“When you return to your true forms… do me a favor and don’t look for me. You don’t need me,” you muttered as sleep overtook your mind.

*Chirp?*

You knew who they were and you knew they’d return to their true forms. Looking at each other they came closer to you curious. You were so quiet when you slept and it was strange to see you so calm rather than running after them. At least not with the tears that had just fallen from your eyes.

Who were you? And how did you know who they were?

Curiosity was always what sparked how the two fell in love with you. They would stop running long enough to know you to learn about you and to love you.

With each time the time changes she would inevitably become the source of curiosity for the two monkeys. They learned about you in every world. Delayed your return to their home to capture you before you could find the way that you return home. Destroy whatever was in their way to keep you by their side.

This one didn’t really go into the time loop part of it too much, sorry about that. But it’s not a bad scene in my opinion at least.

>>><<<< Reader’s daughter (one of them)

However this also depends on what time Reader is taken from the future! Is it during when she’s first taken to Flower Fruit Mountian? Is it during the journey? Is it during the LMK time? Is she with them willingly at this point? Does she have kids?

Yes you eventually have kids, so if its after you have kids with the two warlords then well I’ve had a little scene in my head for a while now. Where one of your children goes to the past and you has to get her back!

“But they hurt you,” Her words cut through you like a knife. You don’t fight with your husbands all that much, so why does she know this?

“Honey-“ You begin to say.

“Uncle Tang told us about how you all met the Warlords, he said that you got hurt more than once too!” She was crying at this point, your daughter, your ever strong and determined daughter was crying.

Your eyes flickered to the monkeys (weather in warlord form or cub form) and sigh. It’s true, they hurt you before. They never meant to but there was more than once that you ended up hurt. But you turned your attention right back to your daughter and kneeled in front of her.

“They did. They hurt me, but they never meant to,” You explain cupping your daughter’s cheeks, staring at her heart shaped mask and deep golden eyes. She looked so much like her dad.

“Then why!? WHY WON’T YOU CHANGE IT!?” She yelled but froze when you laughed. You laughed at the words, you knew why you wouldn’t change anything not a single thing would be changed at least not by you.

“Because, because no matter what happened in the past, I love you, you and your siblings. If what happened in the past didn't happen then how would I have gotten you or your siblings?” You asked a smile on your face, reassuring and calm.

She sniffled, eyes wide with shock as if the thought didn’t cross her mind. However when her eyes went down cast you knew, she had thought about that. She had known there would be consequences but she wanted to spare you the pain.

“Besides, no matter what happened in the past… I love them too. Both of them, through thick and thin, through joy and sorrow. They are mine and I am theirs,” You explained, your own eyes brimmed with tears as your daughter threw herself into your arms and letting out a sob.

It was like when she was a tiny cub again she curled into you as you pulled her close to you. With a sigh you smile and take the artifact that you used to find her out of your pocket. You looked at Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque and give them a soft smile before allowing yourself and your daughter to be sent back to your own time.

Sun Jin, also nicknamed Jinx is mostly like her dad in the aspects of personality and appearance. She has a very low amount of shadow magic, (compared to her siblings) and extraordinary strength. In strength alone she can match many celestials and high ranked demons alike. She is a pure mama’s girl and will do anything to make her happy, even if that means breaking time and space itself.

>>><<< Reader escapes to her world

“NO!” The pure boiling rage echoed through the cavern as the light died down. Everything was still around the now shattered crystal that lay in shards across the cold stone floor.

You were gone, again! How many times has this day reset? How many times had they lost you to the damned portal that continued to take you away!? All they wanted was for you to stay with them and be their Queen. They wanted you safe and cared for, you’d never be in danger with them and you would have everything that you’d ever asked for.

Macaque was the first to move, scooping up the shattered crystal with a look of rage across his face. Every time, every fucking time. You would never stay here- NO! He refused to believe that. They would get you back one way or another, weather you agreed with them or not. You were their beautiful and loving wife, they would get you back no matter how long it took.

As the world around them shifted to them returning to the beginning of the day, Wukong curled around you. Every morning started the same, you three were sleeping in bed before going about your day. The day that you would find a way back to your world, and leave them behind.

No, you wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer. Macaque would make sure of that. Without a word he got out of bed, giving a smile to Wukong who looked at him with confusion. He wouldn’t explain not this time, he wouldn’t give his mate false hope before getting to the bottom of this.

It didn’t work, of course it didn’t work. Wukong screamed as he held your lifeless body in his arms, his body shaking with pure rage. His eyes almost glowing red as if he were about to use his power to destroy anything in his path. He barely held himself back as Macaque stood behind you both.

No! How did this happen!? All he did was break the crystal, the same crystal that constantly took you away from them again and again and again. All he did was take away what was taking you from them!

He couldn’t even bring himself to approach you two instead backing away with a look of horror across his face. This was his fault, in his selfishness, he took you away permanently. Tears, real tears filled his eyes as the wind howled around them, shadows lashing around as the ground cracked beneath his mate. They couldn’t stand this!!

Once again the world shifted to the morning before, hearts pounding in their chests as they curled close to you. They wouldn’t loose you, not this time.

Not this time.

Not this time.

NOT THIS TIME!

>>> Random thought

Okay halfway through this one I came up with an idea! So I have a way for Reader to get home from the island, one that the monkey duo is constantly trying to destroy. A crystal that was formed within one of the caverns deep underground. Now with that information what if the day that she constantly escapes is the same day that she keeps getting sent to the past!

Just a thought, I thought it was neat. In that case the crystal would be what is sending her to the past… oh! Flower Fruit Mountain has tons of artifacts so the one they could be fighting against is a time travel device while there is still another crystal to her own world. Yeah, that could work.

>>> The day Macaque dies

Now I don’t think I’ll be having Macaque die in this Au, and if I do it’ll only be temporary. However- The ANGST! So not at all canon, but how can I resist.

Though I don’t think any of these are fully canon to this Au, but meh they have been so fun to write!!

Blood dripped down the side of Wukong’s staff. Everything in his world froze around him. Macaque’s once vibrant eye the only one visible dimming until they held no light and no life. A scream was heard almost instantly, the staff thrown to the side in favor of Wukong cradling his love in his arms. No, no, no! How could he do this!? How could he do this to his warrior.

His own vision blurred as he pulled his mate into his arms and let out a sob. How- how- how!? This isn’t real, none of this was real. This wasn’t even possible! He tried to reason with himself, there was no way that any of this was possible.

The sun behind him was an array of gorgeous golds, oranges and reds as it set below the sky. Allowing the moon to show from high in the sky, as if it was mocking him.

He opened his mouth to scream once again only for his entire world to shift. And once again be standing in front of his enraged mate.

“I don’t want to fight you!” He yelled, knowing this wasn’t the first time this has happened. However it was only not the first time for him, to his beloved mate? This was the first time they had seen each other in a long while, the pilgrimage having taken him from The Five Fazes Mountain. He needed to complete this journey to be free, to go back to his mate at all.

“Then get out of my way!” So he could get his revenge, so that Macaque could do what he came for.

Time and time again, his own mate’s blood covered his hands quickly making the King go absolutely insane. Blood would cover the ground one way or another this day and there was nothing that could be done about it.

I loved this ask! Again I’m sorry that I took so long with this ask! I do love this idea! And once again I really don’t know that much about ISAT, if you could let me know more about it I might look into it. That is not a promise but I might get intrigued enough to look at it.

[cute-little-fly]

Will there be a Vassago love triangle in Helluva Boss season 3?

I have been seeing some theories regarding Stolassago. While I think it is a cool ship and conceptually they are cute I think that they are very unlikely in canon, even if temporarily, and they are not the only possibility to happen.

Let me explain.

What we have seen about Vassgo in the show:

In the episode Mastermind he was shown as a very righteous but also extroverted bird. He seems to care about Stolas a lot, but Stolas seems surprised by this, so we don’t know how much they know each other and why their interactions were like that. (This is a mistery for me honestly, if you are interested other post have covered this).

Vassago seemed very devastated at outcome of the trial, and he seems to know that all of it was unfair.

❤️💙Love triangle theory🤍❤️

The theory basically is Stolas being in love with Blitzø but feeling attracted to Vassago because of a possible falling out between Stolitz. After sinsmas for me this became very unlikely… but let’s see the evidence that is usually used for this.

One thing used to fuel the theory (even if not directly related) are certain parallels between Blitzø and Vassago:

-They both have a Red/White/Yellow color palette

-Vassago has some feathers in the back of the head that have stripes, that could be analogue to the horns.

-Vassago is wearing a red suit of a similar shape than Blitzø’s in the front.

-They both have or had something to do with pirates. In recent merch dropped Vassago has maps and pirate treasure imaginery.

This is used usually as evidence that Stolas might like Vassago because they are similar.

However, I haven’t seen people point out that Vassago has similarities with Stolas too. Of course, some similarities might be because they both are a Goetian prince, but, the rest of the Goetias shown at the trial are not like them at all:

The ones that I can think of are:

-They both like singing and music (Yes, I am taking this just because of the “Cántalo baby”).

-Vassago has a lot of stars in his clothes and magic, like the star on his neck. This star is in a similar position than Blitzø’s mother brooch, so that’s interesting.

-Vassago has also purple in part of his tail, and purple is a color that is also related to Stolas, because of night sky and stars.

-They both have a yellow or white lock of hair. In Stolas is inconsistent but now is permanent as the pupils so I will count this and assume he hid it before.

The similarities are between both of them tend to be overlooked, but I think are important for this analysis… Vassago could relate and reflect both of them for some reason and not just the love triangle.

Other things people use as evidence for the love triangle are:

-Viv liking some tweets about Stolassago and how Vassago has something that seems personal with Stolas.

-They talked about a temporary love interest for Stolas (but could be the BTB guy).

-People believed there was a duet between them, but that got disproven. These are two separated songs.

-The pride parade official art.

I don’t think the tweets mean specifically a love triangle. Those are either just art or the statement that Vassago seems to care too much about Stolas. But Stolas might not reciprocate that (in case is romantic).

Regarding the pride parade art:

The argument here is that Vassago is looking Stolas way, and that Stolas ambiguously looking back, because he has an eye more open and how this kinda foreshadows a love triangle.

This doesn’t fully convince me. For me Stolas is looking at Blitzø, because even if he has his right eye more open his gaze is going down. I think this is a subtle misdirection. (But, this part is my opinion, i can’t fully discard it).

However, let’s look beyond them:

There is a small unknown imp that is looking at Vassago while he looks at Stolas, Stolas is looking to Blitzø (and Vassago?) and Andrealphus is looking Stolitz (or maybe everyone?) with a confused/disgusted face from behind.

Remember that Viv said Season 3 was a queer roller coaster? This seems like that to me.

It is also more interesting than the love triangle.

I am excited to see who he is. The rest of the characters in this picture have been present in the show even in the background, like Dennis or the succubi at the parties or with Verosika. People tend to ignore him, but he might be relevant. He also seems to be trans, which is cool, because there are very few trans characters.

This messy scenario has a lot of avenues to develop.

If Vassago crushes on Stolas at first, or is too friendly, Stolas might feel conflicted in returning or not the affections because of the help he needs with Octavia. Vassago also could have something with this new character or Andrealphus, and who knows how his interactions with Blitz will happen.

I think that Stolas and Vassago could end up being similar to Blitzfizz. Two characters having chemistry that are very good friendship, with some old story behind them.

I really would like Vassago ending up positively influencing Stolitz in the long run, even if he makes a mess between them at first.

The symbolism and details that make him similar to both of them are pretty interesting, and I am excited to see what this will bring us to the table.

[triptychgardener]

Hello sorry if this is a bother but I am asking in good faith where is the reading for transmasc nepeta. I’m asking this cuz of your last ask (the June one) and I see aradia Dirk and Jane. Thoes all I have seen post and analysis about. But I have not really seen anything about nepeta.

Okay so first thing you gotta understand is that gender in Homestuck, for lack of a better way to say it, can be understood in how characters reflect and relate to each other. That being said to understand Nepeta's gender, we gotta understand the gender of at the very least one other person.

Dave.

And more specifically.

Davepeta, Homestuck's very own first(ish) trans character.

Davepeta is noted to be a sort of platonic ideal of existence for both Dave and Nepeta. Somehow, through a strange series of cosmic coincidences, these two end up making an odd sort of parallel. Both having a strange relationship to a man who loves him some goddamn horses. The whole Akwete Purrmusk thing. I mean, Dave canonically engaged in semi-nonironic furry roleplay with Nepeta offscreen, and given what we know about what becoming a furry in Homestuck means, it's not a leap to describe this as their ideal form.

But, although we don't see a lot of Nepeta's character arc, we do see a lot of Dave's. He struggles his whole life under an incredibly oppressive masculine force (both of Bro and, indirectly, Lord English), and once the game is over ends up deconstructing and largely rejecting that.

So when Davesprite, who's also probably been thinking about this for even longer, bereft of purpose or identity, finds a kindred soul in a spunky catgirl... well the rest is Davepeta.

And similarly, there are points in the story where Nepeta acts kind of uncomfortable with how others see her as exclusively something to be protected. The whole "Dear, sweet, precious Nepeta" grates on her early on, as Equius uses it as an excuse to control her actions. The whole of moiraillegience as it is originally explained (i.e. one party helps to calm down an especially brutal and violent person from outbursts of anger, and in turn that person will protect the more docile, even-tempered soul from external harm) even kind of FEELS like the way heterosexual relationships are portrayed in a lot of conservative spaces, where women are nuturers and caretakers while men are protectors. And Nepeta is supposed to, in this situation, be the person who helps Equius manage his emotions, which she feels some consternation at!

Now, over the course of Hivebent, their relationship appears to evolve and get a bit more balanced, but it still carries these overtones of "I will protect you, and you will handle my outbursts." Notably, when Equius goes to seek the Highb100d, and leaves Nepeta behind.

And of course not after roleplaying as each other.

Which. I mean come on.

But notably, Nepeta doesn't just stay put! She doesn't really want to be protected all the time! And when push comes to shove, she leaps out to defend, or at the very least avenge, her best friend.

And then, we don't really see Nepeta for a while!

Until we get to the end of the comic.

During their whole "date", Nepeta seems a little uncomfortable with Jasprose's affections. She may be a bit flattered, but Jasprose also fully admits later that she was frankly looking for any girl she could fall in love with after the tragic death of her girlfriend and possible more tragic untimely resurrection.

But then the pivotal handshake happens, and we get to see who is perhaps the most happy being in all of Homestuck.

Then we get into some of the only actual discussion of gender in Homestuck. We don't get much besides that, for both of their lives, Dave and Nepeta both felt something was missing. Something felt wrong that they couldn't quite place that made them both miserable. I don't think it's a massive stretch to say this could be gender dysphoria.

And when they combine, they feel the fullness of the gendered experience they were missing, melded together like a two-piece puzzle.

Now while the abovementioned "strong identities as a boy and a girl" might throw you off, I would point to what Victoria Lacroix said about this passage: note the lack of the word "respectively." I rest my case.

Now full disclosure, my personal headcanon for Nepeta is genderfluid transmasc. The whole affinity for roleplaying lends itself to a more shifting identity and I just think Nepeta, given more time, would love exploring the little nooks and crannies of gender.

This isn't going into the more complicated shit with Gender when it comes to Equius and Dirk and all that other stuff. Here's a quick summary so you can see exactly how my brain is broken.

Anyways, thanks for the question! I hope I answered my thoughts on the topic adequately! If other people have more to say about this, please feel free to add on!

[solitaryandwandering]

A Ramble: Love in the Big City Eps 1-2

I just watched episode 2 of Love in the Big City and I am... reeling. Cried when Kim Nam Gyu died, when Yeong and Mi Rae sang together at the wedding, cried at the crushing ending line. I loved the direction in these two episodes; one of the reasons I was super excited to watch this was because they're switching up the directors for each part. Such a cool way to signal transitions in Yeong's life. Now that I've seen the caliber Son Tae Gyum operated at I'm intrigued to see how direction will affect the next parts. Maybe I'll write up a thing about that in the end, but I'm hopeful others will as well! I am chomping at the bit to read the book, seriously!!

I have to mention first what a BALLSY move it was for them to open on Yeong's tryst with a man who was cheating on someone currently in the military. And he walks in the door, STILL IN UNIFORM. What a fucking slap in the face to hegemonic masculinity!!

After this first part what I am really lingering on are two things: queer loneliness and heteronormativity's relationship to misogyny. I'm just gonna put down my half-baked thoughts, I don't have the time or spoons to formulate coherent sentences haha

Though I saw Nam Gyu's death coming just based on vibes in the first episode, its impact wasn't lessened. Its significance didn't really hit me until I saw how empty his funeral was. Loneliness shaped his life - repression, liberation in meeting another gay man, falling in love with him way too fast, forming a dependent attachment, his desperation/obsessiveness in losing it so abruptly. He expressed his queerness in his photography, voyeuristic and seeking closeness with his subjects in the only way he felt was available to him. He had no friends, no relationships outside of his with Yeong. When Yeong breaks up with him and when he visits him drunk in ep 2, he says "falling in love is not a sin." To me, this shows just how removed from a loving community he has been, how nascent his queerness. He's still processing homophobia, it still influences every move he makes, everything he thinks. Clearly he has not had close relationships with other queers, where he may feel free to unburden himself. He falls back on heteronormative performance of romance, searching the best places for dates, not having anyone to ask. Knowing he's older makes this hurt more.

His story brought to mind the futility of AIDS-related deaths in the U.S., to be honest. I lost my gay uncle before I even knew him, and I know no one from his life. I know it's not a perfect parallel, but that funeral... this emptiness carries beyond one queer person's death. And Yeong's journey in these two episodes is about queer loneliness, of course. But his story is not as tragic as Nam Gyu's. He has (amazing) queer friends, and at one point had Mi Rae. He is much more connected to the queer community than Nam Gyu ever was. Despite his immaturity, Yeong is also much more familiar and comfortable with his queerness. I imagine this thread of self-actualization in the face of loneliness will continue in the rest of the show.

@twig-tea and @poetry-protest-pornography also wrote about queer loneliness in this show: here and here

And then we have Mi Rae, a vitally important relationship in Yeong's life, the love this part of the story is about. I met my best friend in college as well, so this part of the story was bringing up a lot of feelings too. To me, their friendship was as much about navigating heteronormativity as anything else, reflected in Yeong's reflection that "she learned that being a gay man sucks, and I learned that being a woman sucks just as much." Mi Rae is impacted by misogyny in every step of her character's journey: male classmates labeling her a slut and claiming her body for theirs, being groped, her challenges obtaining an abortion and mistreatment by a male doctor (where she literally claims her uterus back), her conflict with her parents (I'm assuming her mother had very rigid ideas of what a woman should be, based on her behavior at the wedding), hiding her past from her boyfriend, forced to defend herself when he questions why she lives with a man, shutting herself off from her relationship with Yeong (and thus rejecting her past) after the wedding. I looked up the status of abortion in Korea (a legal gray zone) and was reminded of how badly women there have it, which provided more context for her behavior.

Yeong must also traverse heteronormativity, which is what ultimately drives a wedge between the two and ends their friendship. In the beginning, their mutual rejection of heteronormative scriptures is what brings them together. He stands up for her against those male classmates, in an interaction steeped with assumptions of his heterosexuality. In rejecting her objectification he made himself a pariah for refusing to participate in normative masculinity. And their relationship continues thus, with her promising never to out him. She betrays him in a moment where she feels her participation in normative heterosexuality is threatened (and, indeed, it is a legitimately precarious position to be put in as a woman). Their brief reconciliation mainly consists of Yeong participating in a heterosexual ritual - he has no access to marriage in Korea. Her singing with him and letting go of her inhibitions for one last time was her goodbye to him and her ultimate acceptance of a more heteronormative life. One he can't participate in.

I hope that made any lick of sense. So looking forward to watching the next week. I am holding myself back from watching the next episodes right now. So hard.

[violetasteracademic]

Power and Possibilities

Elriel Month: Theory Post

This week's @elriel-month theme is the perfect time to put together the evidence I have for a pretty popular theory (and one I definitely share) that Elain and Azriel could potentially have a carranam bond. While I'm unsure if it is carranam exactly, I am most interested in the fact that there is evidence of power sharing amongst all of the major mated couples (including Feysand and Nessian, which no one ever talks about!) so let's break it down.

*Multiverse spoilers ahead*

Of course we know Rowan and Aelin are the OG carranam and power-sharers. I have already made a post on the parallel language between Rowaelin and Elriel and the easter egg of true mates being given to another which you can find here.

We have evidence of Bryce and Hunt being able to share their powers in unique ways. While any raw magic can charge Bryce's "battery", they have a unique experience of being able to blend and give each other their powers through intimacy:

Bryce gives him magical orgasms. Literally. 😂

Now, we all already know Bryce and Hunt share power. And of course we know that Ruhn and Lidia had an incredibly unique experience being able to find each other's minds across oceans and not only be able to communicate without a comm crystal, but physically touch each other in a non corporeal space.

Both the Bryce x Hunt and Ruhn x Lidia scenes are very similar to a Feysand scene that I don't really ever see anyone talking about in terms of power sharing with a mate. But they do it, and this indicates it is a connection that happens on all worlds:

Just like Bryce and Hunt, literal stars began to sweep by them. And just like Ruhn and Lidia, they were able to be together in a space where they shouldn't have bodies. And notice the language: I felt him as his power blended with mine.

Another Feysand power sharing moment is of course when Rhys pours his power into Feyre to restore the Cauldron. In Erilea, that's what we call carranam baby.

The Nessian moment is more subtle, but it is there. And I believe we will see all three couples share or blend power on a larger scale:

When Nesta loses herself to the scrying and begins to literally freeze over, Cassian sends his power and heat into her through his kiss and his siphons. He breaks through the ice by pouring his power into her, and unintentionally warms the entire room. Cassian clearly doesn't have a full understanding of what he did or how he did it yet.

Alright.... now what does this have to do with Elriel?

Well, I think Azriel being the one to discover Elain's powers means more than anyone is giving it credit for (and that's saying something, because it is already being given a LOT of credit in the Elriel community!) I believe that the assessments of scenes reflecting Azriel beginning to understand or notice Elain's powers are deeper than just possibly indication of being mates. I think we'll find he can actually feel her power:

Yes he is seeing her and understanding her. He is listening to her. But these passages are worded in such an interesting way. I believe he can literally feel her. Elain starts having another vision, and that's when he discovers the truth of what is happening to her. @rizzoreads88 , this is my take on what these scenes mean from your most recent tiktok!

Now, is this all just theory and speculation? Absolutely, which is why I labelled it a theory post! But I do think it is interesting that Lucien tried to feel Elain. Tried to reach for her through their bond. And this is what happened:

Elain starts actively having a vision while Lucien is trying to reach her. This is in *direct contrast* to when Azriel is studying her while Elain is having a vision.

Even though Elain is using her powers while Lucien is reaching for her through the bond, he doesn't sense or feel anything except the thread of the bond. And likely, due to his blush, the previous thoughts he had the first time he was around Elain. The mating bond commanding that he touch and taste her. But he does not sense or feel her or her powers which are active in that moment. And he is *unconvinced* trying to reach her again will do any good.

We already know Lucien experiences a call from the mating bond to be physically intimate with Elain, and I actually think he was quite respectful in working through that and trying to see past it. However, even while reaching through their "bridge" he could not sense or feel her power while it was active. He didn't feel anything other than the call to be intimate. Whereas all other endgame couples have both.

Elain has already shown her ability to wield Azriel's shadows when she travelled through them and stepped out of them to stab the King of Hybern in the neck. (I do not believe that is a theory, I think that is quite clear. There is no other explanation for how she got across a freaking battlefield by herself in a dress to save her sister at exactly the right time.) Yes, Nesta uses Truth-Teller to remove the king's head, but Elain uses Truth-Teller's power.

Azriel discovers and understands Elain's power.

And yeah, they wanna bang. Do I even need to reiterate that through text grabs?

I can't wait to see how this all unfolds. I truly hope that with Az and Elain already paralleling Rowan and Aelin in so many ways, (Rowan and Aelin sealed their carranam bonds and began sharing power before the reveal that they were true mates and Maeve interfered with fate) they will be the couple that we really get to see power sharing play out with in a meaningful way.

I need their book so bad. It physically hurts.

[lurkingshan]

I’m thinking a lot about the scene between Pran and Tian where they discuss the fight Tian and Phupha are having. Not the fake one about who liked who first, but the real one about Phupha refusing to travel home with Tian or change anything about his life to meet Tian’s needs. It’s a funhouse mirror image of the conflict Pat and Pran are having about how much Pran should let Pat help him, and their long-term dynamic of Pat letting Pran win every disagreement and always being the one to compromise or give in when their needs are in tension.

What I love about it is that Tian doesn’t know anything about their relationship, he’s just (drunkenly) talking about his own experience, and how frustrating and exhausting it is to be with someone like Phupha who never meets him halfway. And Pran is sitting across from this guy who looks like his twin, whose story he has already memorized and connected to, who he now thinks of as a sort-of friend, and he is self-aware enough to see the parallels instantly, and to feel a little embarrassed and ashamed that he is essentially the Phupha in his relationship. And you see him react, just a little, and maybe start to think for the first time about what it must feel like for Pat to yield to him on everything, and never have that reciprocated by Pran.

Reading this wonderful post from @waitmyturtles earlier where she mentioned how she empathizes with Pran, I was also reflecting a bit about where I see myself in this story, and let me tell you, I am such a Phupha. When it comes to how I want to live my life, where I want to be, and how I want to spend my time and with whom, I am uncompromising to a fault. I completely get where Phupha is coming from - I told you who I am, and now you’re telling me it’s not enough. He is frustrated by the idea that he has to change himself for Tian, and I get that, I really do. It’s something I am personally not willing to do. The key difference between me and Phupha, however, is that I am not in love and I do not desire to be in a romantic partnership. He very much is, and very much does.

So what might a guy like Phupha think, as he is struggling so much with the idea of yielding to Tian, when he is met with someone like Pat? Someone who is so like him in some ways - in his strength, his masculinity, his physicality, his confidence, his loyalty, his desire to help others - and yet so unlike him in other ways - his emotional openness, his vulnerability, his comfort with compromise, his absolute willingness to put his pride aside for his lover. Where Phupha is rigid, Pat is versatile, in every sense of the word. There is a lot Phupha might learn from talking to someone like Pat about how he sees his relationship, why he is always willing to bend to Pran’s needs, and why he ultimately feels it’s worth it, even if he sometimes feels some of the frustration that Tian does. Might Phupha have his own epiphany next week, opening up a path for him to finally compromise on something important to Tian?  

@dribs-and-drabbles, I’m not sure how this might fit into your theory about the patterns playing out in these episodes, but I really hope we get to see this happen next week, and watch both of these couples learn from each other’s experiences and find a way to meet their partners in the middle. Because as @waitmyturtles said, this is the work of being in a long term relationship.

In the server with @bengiyo @shortpplfedup @kyr-kun-chan @wen-kexing-apologist we talk often about how amazing it is when romances address what happens to couples after they get together, and how exciting it is that we are starting to see more bl shows about the work of staying together, and I’m so glad that the genius minds behind Bad Buddy and A Tale of Thousand Stars took the opportunity of this special to dig into that so authentically. And to have done it in such a brilliant way, by mixing and matching these characters from beloved shows, putting them side by side and demonstrating how they are similar and also how they can learn from each other, creating a sense of community in this shared universe, and making it all so damn fun along the way, is just an unbelievable treat for us as an audience. Can't wait to see how it all comes together next week.

[icedroppedinparasolcider]

Thoughts on ena? Feel free to yap as much as you did in three shizuku one!

so, fun fact about me! i was an ena oshi from like. On This Blank Canvas, I Paint ensekai release to about Say Goodbye to Masked Me jpsekai release, when kanade took the crown (it's since ended up in airi's hands, if not obvious). so i have an absolute ton of stuff i could say about ena and figuring out where to even begin is always the hardest part of all of this. i won't even give myself a direction here i'm just gonna stream of consciousness this.

shinonome ena was probably the first character i got genuinely attached to among the cast, and while most of my thoughts and attention have strayed to other characters, she still remains someone i get incredibly insane about (frankly the entire cast does this to me, but ena is one of the highlight characters of this). and a lot of it comes from my reading of On This Blank Canvas, I Paint when it released on ensekai, because that event not only changed ena for me, but how i view the entire game and its story. that event changed my brain chemistry and nothing deserves the claim more than it.

prior to that event, i looked at ena like i do most "mean" characters, with a sort of dismissive attitude due to generally not being a fan of the archetype and the way many pieces of media write them (other fandoms i was part of before prsk largely ruined it for me). but that event, and ena herself completely changed my entire perspective on the character archetype as a whole, and while i still wouldn't say it's my favourite, i am far from dismissive of the character type and many of my favourites from other medias exist within it because i'm actually paying attention to why they're like this. On This Blank Canvas, I Paint was my first exposure to the why, and i've never been able to look away since.

while there's arguments to be made of this factor for every person in it, i personally stand at the opinion that ena is the representation of everything the solid heart class stands for. akito is really close, and he's in contention, but i'll get more into akito later on because there's so much i need to say about their relationship, their parallels, the roles they have in each other's lives and the reflection of these roles onto the people around them. but with solid heart in general, i think that ena exists as an epitome of everything they are, and the fact everyone except ena in-world is able to recognise that only further pushes my point. because unlike akito, ena believes herself a coward on top of being inadequate. she doesn't recognise the strength it requires to keep pushing forward through all this pain, she thinks herself weak for even experiencing it at all. while akito believes himself (at least up to BURN MY SOUL) inferior to his peers, there's not really a moment where he looks at himself as weak for struggling. he simply pushes forward, and Find a Way Out and BURN MY SOUL is the recognition that that is what gives him his power. ena doesn't even consider that possibility until Knowing the Unseen, when she learns about what her father went through.

solid heart is defined by its determination and unflinching will to improve and chase their dreams no matter who or what gets in their way. shiho continuing to practice and search for a band after convincing herself she's better off solo; airi's constant drive to be a better idol and reach the heights she set for herself; akito's refusal to back down from the unbreakable wall of rad weekend despite the entire town telling him he can't do it; nene's constant push through her story to be an actress worthy of the dreams she has. ena is just part of this, chasing the dream that is her art and the desire to garner a following from it, make a career out of it like her father has. she doesn't attach her name to the works of 25ji because she doesn't want its popularity to be the reason her artwork succeeds, she wants the effort and beauty she captures on the canvas to speak for itself. everyone in solid heart carries that wish, for their work to speak for itself, to not take shortcuts on the path to their dreams. most of them aren't offered many opportunities for it to happen, it's really just shiho and ena who have that chance; shiho with the entire event of Resonate with You and ena's combination of being the daughter of a famous artist and the illustrator for a growing musical group. but both of them turn down those short-cuts in the end, because it wouldn't be their dream as they wish it. shiho wouldn't be standing by the sides of those they made that promise with, and ena wouldn't feel like the success is actually hers at all, but rather the success of whatever name she's leaning on.

you can actually see this part of ena in a scene unrelated to her artwork, in Someday, This Wish will Transcend the Morning Sky. when mafuyu gets a call from her mother and ena decides to take over the conversation, there's a moment in it where ena thinks how she'd rather not bring him into the equation right before mentioning her father's name. she doesn't want to be associated with him, for any reason; both because of her problems with shin'ei as a person and her reservations with using the benefits she has through nepotism. she's fully aware she has that advantage, and does whatever she can to separate herself from her father to avoid having it. because it wouldn't feel like it's actually her success. it would feel like her father's success rubbing off on her.

yet, to bring this back to solid heart, despite the struggle she's facing to make a name for herself as an artist and the immense pain she faces trying to improve herself as an artist and a person, she doesn't quit. she nearly has, plenty of times; it's mentioned several times in early stories how often akito would have to step in to stop ena from throwing away and/or breaking all her art supplies and tools during her fits of anger, because he understands how important this venture is to her. he's solid heart too, his equivalent is the music he makes and performs in vivid street. he knows, firsthand, how precious the passion she has for art is, because he's been given that same drive and purpose for a different artform. ena didn't let him give up when he quit soccer, so he won't let her give up. however he can manage to do that.

there's a specifc moment in the stories of solid heart where you can see the moment they decided that giving up and backing away simply isn't an option anymore. shiho is a slight exception to this rule; there was never a moment in their story where they felt they should give up on their dream to become a professional bassist in a band, not once did they ever stop chasing that dream, for even a moment. shiho's shifts were always about how they chase that dream, with Resonate with You being the decision to not leave leo/need's side, and Don't lose faith! being the change of heart to stop holding back for the sake of the band, to let them catch up by knowing what to chase. but for airi, this happened in the more more jump main story; the recognition of minori's potential as an idol because of her refusal to simply give up, mixed with the mistake of her lashing out at shizuku when she shares the news that she'll be quitting her idol work, kicks airi back to a point of realisation of just how important to her being an idol is, and that she can't afford to just leave it behind. for akito, this happens during rad weekend; after having abandoned sports due to believing he's not dedicated enough, and ena introducing him to the world of music at the summer festival, his entire body and purpose is lit up by the emotional weight of rad weekend, giving him something to strive for and a reason to endure the constant loss that will come with chasing that dream. for nene, pieces of this occur in the wxs main story, but she's truly pushed into the unrelenting determination of solid heart with On a Holy Night, with This Singing Voice and the recognition of her potential from sakurako managing to grab at her competitive spirit and give her something to fight for; something brought to an extreme with The Canary Sings in a Quagmire as nene pushes herself harder than ever before to break down a barrier in her skill.

for ena, this moment was On This Blank Canvas, I Paint. while she never completely gave up on art before this moment, and Insatiable Pale Colour shows how much she wants to fight for her art and gives us a taste of her willingness to keep going, it pales in comparison to the scene captured in the On This Blank Canvas, I Paint untrained ena card. that moment is the decision that completely pivots the direction of ena's entire story into what she's become in modern project sekai. the decision to not look away—to stop looking away. ena is facing her art in a way she was never willing to before, a way she depicted herself in the art piece being critiqued avoiding. the ena of the past would've run away after hearing the harsh words yukihira had to say. we see, in the event, what happened the last time yukihira was harsh about ena's work: she completely broke down and it was the final straw to the shattering of her fragile self-esteem. but during the return to her art classes, which itself is a monumental step due to the pain attached to them, ena made the decision to stop running away. to take whatever yukihira had to say about her art and make it matter, make it have an impact on her growth as an artist. so she sits there, all the memories of the suffering she's gone through fresh on her mind and burning into her, and takes in the criticism. she doesn't fight back like she always had with 25ji, she doesn't look away like she did the last time. these are her failures, and she needs to take responsibility for them. because that's the only way to fix them.

On This Blank Canvas, I Paint also gives us a lot of insight into ena's relationship with shin'ei. not necessarily as much as Insatiable Pale Colour does, since that's a proper introduction to and exploration of their dynamic as both father and daughter and from artist to artist, but On This Blank Canvas, I Paint gives us the invaluable context around the moment that broke their relationship. how much ena had been going through already, how excited she was to continue chasing art, the way shin'ei completely shot her down from the high of being praised by yukihira—something we learn in that event is exceptionally rare—and the actions the next day of yukihira unintentionally confirming for ena everything shin'ei said. that, as she was then, she would never survive or succeed as an artist.

something i don't see really any recognition or mention of is just how much of a part yukihira had to play in ena's collapsed mental health. he was the one to convince her that she could make it by giving her praise, something that ena has always been attached and attracted to because of the lifelong emotional neglect of shin'ei. her receiving that praise from someone she looked up to as a professional and understood that the praise itself is a rarity from him resulted in a complete overblowing of ena's ego, the instant belief that she has what it takes and would be able to make it into and survive art schools with ease. that bubble is popped by shin'ei's words, the outright disapproval of her dream and doubt in her ability to chase that dream (at least, that's how ena takes it; we learn later on that isn't what shin'ei intended to happen). then, the following day, during a very fragile moment where she's reliant on the approval of a professional, yukihira continues to tear ena down with the statement that she'd never make it as an artist if all she looks for is praise. an echoed, if more specific, sentiment to shin'ei's own words. it breaks her. ena would probably be in a much better mental state, though still fragile, were it just shin'ei that knocked her down. but yukihira kicked her while she was down. and that proved to be too much.

i understand why yukihira gets less attention from the fandom, since ena's own story has a stronger focus on what shin'ei did to her than what yukihira did, and what shin'ei did is ultimately the one ena's mind has attached to as evident by the constant flashes to his words in her earlier stories and the entire nightmare sequence of And Now, This Ribbon is Tied, which i can hardly blame her for finding shin'ei's actions more damaging. despite the evidently bad parenting shin'ei has done for either shinonome, even before The SceneTM (akito had it is in his mind that success is impossible without talent even before finding music, and there's a lot of little details across side-stories that imply shin'ei has never been the most attentive father: my favourite of which being ena pushing him into a lake during a camping trip because he wasn't paying enough attention to her. the shinonomes appear to be really bad at communicating and even processing their own feelings, even before the moment ena and shin'ei's relationship fully collapsed, and i think a lot of it comes down to shin'ei being a neglectful and borderline absent father for both of them), ena clearly trusted and believed in shin'ei opinions as both her father and a professional artist by the way she used to study his work to improve her own, the way she went to him for advice on what art school to pick. shin'ei's action was ultimately a betrayal of all of that trust, and i personally believe their relationship is impossible to mend after that, at least to a degree that the shinonome household will be a safe space for either child again (unfortunately, i'm speaking from experience).

i had more to say and if it comes back to me i might reblog with even more yapping but i've completely lost my train of thought due to being distracted and cannot bring it back for the life of me. so i'm just posting this now. have fun ena fans

[sillypiratelife]

Falling for zosan and namivivi because I am a sucker for parallels and relationships that are not what people would expect of them.

For example, I prefer when Zoro and Sanji don't get together because they are sexually attracted to each other, but because there is literally no real reason forcing them together but they choose to be together either way.

Why do they fight? Why each other?

There's nothing about fate or blind love in there.

Loving Sanji is a decision for Zoro. He picks Sanji. He decides he wants to tease Sanji and fight with him and offer to Sanji those parts of himself that no one else has seen. Zoro loves deliberately, with all his being. He knows what he's getting into and he accepts it, a promise made to last forever. He did the same with Kuina and Luffy, so it doesn't make sense to me to have a version of Zoro that loves romantically 'cause there's no other option. Remember when he preferred to die over denying his ambitions? Or all the times he has sacrificed himself expecting nothing in return? Or the fact he is praised for following no one he doesn't want to and nothing but what pleases him?

And Sanji can only choose to love Zoro. It'd be a fight with his traumas and the persona he created to keep the hurt at bay, you know, "the romantic cook that loves and lusts for women". It wouldn't be fair or pretty either if Sanji was forced into it. I'm not saying he can't be sexually attracted to Zoro —and I must clarify, for me Zoro is fully on the asexual spectrum— but ultimately, I think that Sanji would never dive on it if not fully conscious about what it entails. Sanji has a lot of issues he must start working on before involving himself in anything romantic or sexual with a man. It's the guilt? The shame? The way he represses himself and denies himself happiness? The way he thinks he needs to fake an easygoing persona so that others wouldn't worry? The self-loathing? Zoro sacrifices himself because that's his duty and he knows himself and his wishes— he'd die to be the best swordman and he'd die for Luffy to be the pirate king and he'd die for his crew. He doesn't wish death, tho. Sanji? His self-sacrificing is born out of suffering and self-deprecation. Loving Zoro would be a choice, no doubt.

With Nami and Vivi, it's that the circumstances make them perfect for each other, just to later keep them apart.

Vivi and Nami fit together. It took Nami one single night and she knew she'd sacrifice anything— that they would sacrifice anything to help Vivi. Nami saw her own fear and loneliness and guilt and desperation reflected in the way Vivi made her lip bleed from her bite while the Igaram ship was on fire. They were "cursed" to survive. To fight and struggle and survive, because no one else could face Arlong or Crocodile. Little girls —kids, then teenagers— sailing to a world of crime where they got claimed by the organizations they hated the most, the one they wanted to tear down because they were hurting their home. Young attractive teen girls who turned their bodies into weapons to distract and surprise their enemies so they could have a chance to defeat them.

Girls who know what it's like to smile when you want to break down, what it's like to kneel out of frustration and scream and feel useless helpless.

The strawhat girls were to fucking hell as mere children and got out of there walking, okay?

What allowed the princess and the burglar to find companionship within the other were those things like the trauma of being the only one who could reclaim back their home or the fear of being alone against a situation bigger than themselves. Being honest, I'm not sure if they'd have clicked without it. In the end it's a bit funny, isn't it? Alabasta is the reason Vivi met the strawhats and the reason why she can't sail to go on adventures with them. In fulfilling the promise of saving Alabasta, Nami made it so that Vivi wouldn't be able to leave with them. Well, she could, but not really. Vivi is a good princess and she wouldn't abandon her people = her country.

Vivi suffered for being a rich princess, but saved herself + her people 'cause they underestimated how influential and powerful she could be. On the other hand, Nami suffered for being a poor no one first, then for being too important for Arlong to discard, yet they never expected that Nami would have so many people willing to fight for her.

Like a moth to flame, a girl reflected on water.

Vivi and Nami are an echo of each other, one that rings clear and true across the seas. For me, there could be no one else for them. Who else would get it? Who else could understand what they can't explain? What they've lived through? Who held Vivi and swore it'd be okay that night at Whiskey Peak? Who took care of Nami when she was at death's door with fever for days? All the moments become a giant picture with them at the center of it. There's no one else. It couldn't be.

[thatboreddrake]

Ruthlessness is Mercy

Alright, so now that I've got my incoherent ravings and memes about Epic: the Musical, the Vengeance Saga out of the way, I have some THOUGHTS about the musical symbolism in this new album! Speaking specifically about Get in the Water.

Because really, this song is a reflection of Ruthlessness, the song in the Ocean Saga where Odysseus faces off against Poseidon for the first time.

These parallels can be seen even from the opening lines of each song. Think about Poseidon's opening in Ruthlessness:

"Odysseus of Ithaca Do you know who I am?"

(Okay, so this is technically the end of Keep Your Friends Closer, but still, it's Poseidon's introduction). But recall Poseidon's behavior and attitude here: he's loud, he's proud, he's bombastic, he's in-your-face. He addresses Odysseus by his name as an intentional callback to when he taunted Polyphemus. Contrast this against the opening line of Get in the Water:

"There you are, coward."

There's a familiarity here that isn't present in Ruthlessness. Of course there is, Odysseus has narrowly evaded Poseidon's wrath once before (twice if you count Storm), and he's had 10 years to stew on that failure. Both of them know what this is about, it's just about putting an end to unfinished business. Poseidon is not proud, he is not overly aggressive. He's much calmer here than he was in Ruthlessness.

This is even reflected in the music. Ruthlessness features a piano playing in triplet and trumpets to accompany Poseidon. The god of waves has come to bring retribution on the one who dared to harm his son. On the other hand, Get in the Water, features a much more synthetic sound, oscillating back and forth. This motif is used a lot in Epic to denote the presence or usage of godly powers (think Calypso's reveal of her nature in Love in Paradise). Furthermore, the piano is much slower, more menacing, more methodical. Poseidon is not acting in a heat of rage. As I said before, he's had a long time to think about this.

Poseidon's choice of words punctuates this point as well. He has a point to make in Ruthlessness. He's not just here to kill Ody and his crew, he's here to explain exactly what it is that they've done and why they deserve to die for it.

"I've gotta make you bleed, I need to see you drown But before you go, I need to make you learn how Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves"

It's not just about the fact that Odysseus got into a fight with Polyphemus. It almost seems that Poseidon couldn't care less about that. After all:

"I mean, you totally could have avoided all this had you just killed my son"

Poseidon's problem is not that Ody hurt his son, those things happen in the world of mythology. No, his issue is that Ody refused to finish the job. Instead of granting Polyphemus a quick death, he instead elects to "spare" him, leaving him to suffer a lifetime of agony to live with his blindness. Poseidon goes on and on about this (it is the main theme of the song after all).

But in Get in the Water? It's all about salvaging Poseidon's reputation and finishing what he started.

"I've got a reputation I've got a name to uphold So I can't go letting you walk or else the world forgets I'm cold"

By this point, Poseidon has killed hundreds of Odysseus's men and subjected him to horrible torment. By any normal metric, the debt has been repaid. Ody didn't kill Polyphemus, so strictly speaking there's no need to kill him necessarily. The lines listed above almost seem to be a callback to this line from Monster:

"Or does he keep us in check So we must respect him And now no one dares to piss him off?"

Anyway, by the time of Get in the Water it's no longer about avenging his son for Poseidon. In fact, Poseidon makes no mention of his son throughout the entire song! Granted, Poseidon threatens Telemachus with the same fate that Odysseus gave to Polyphemus, but this strikes me more as incentive for Odysseus than anything else. This is all about finishing his business with Odysseus, and Poseidon's command to Odysseus reflects this:

"Now get in the water"

Poseidon says this so nonchalantly. He almost sounds as tired of this feud as Odysseus is. In fact, it's not until the second half of the song that Poseidon regains a portion of the fury that he exudes throughout the entirety of Ruthlessness. And this culminates in the same command in both songs:

"Die"

And here's where the parallels get particularly interesting to me. Because both outbursts follow an attempt by Odysseus to assuage Poseidon's wrath. In Ruthlessness, he appeals to his men's relative innocence in the matter:

"Poseidon, we meant no harm We only hurt him to disarm him We took no pleasure in his pain We only wanted to escape"

Here, Poseidon's reaction is a realization that Odysseus has completely misunderstood the very nature of the interaction. He realizes that Odysseus is arguing out of ignorance, and so the reply does nothing to enrage him. He's not having fun with it like he was before, this is just something he has to do. And so:

"Ruthlessness is mercy Die"

Compare this with the same interaction in Get in the Water. Odysseus once again tries to encourage Poseidon to put the past behind them and move on. To forgive and forget.

"We're both hurting from losses So why not leave this here and just go home?"

Here again, Poseidon does not get angry from Odysseus's suggestion. He merely offers a defeated:

"I can't"

Misunderstanding Poseidon's quietude for passivity, Odysseus attempts to press his advantage, insinuating that, even if it seems impossible to Poseidon, it is still possible for him to learn how to forgive Odysseus.

"Maybe you could learn to forgive?"

And here's where Poseidon really snaps. Because for ten years, he's been waiting to kill the man who blinded his son and had the audacity to escape his retribution. Odysseus broke into his son's home, killed his sheep, and stabbed him in the eye. And now he thinks he can get away without getting his due consequences?

"No Ruthlessness is... Mercy upon... Ourselves Die"

In Ruthlessness, "Die" is a statement of fact. It's a sure thing that Odysseus will die, so Poseidon puts very little emotion behind it. It's a command, surely to be obeyed. In Get in the Water, however, "Die" is an exclamation of fury. Poseidon screams it out because, in that moment, he wants nothing more to kill Odysseus.

In Ruthlessness, Poseidon begins in a state of almost glee but ends in a state of resignation. He isn't enjoying it, but still it has to be done. In Get in the Water, however, Poseidon begins with a sense of quiet fury. There's no rage, no wild temper, he's just finally getting to do what he's waited to do for ten years. And yet, he ends with a greater feeling of anger and hatred towards Odysseus than is shown even in Ruthlessness. Because Ody was supposed to have learned his lesson. He was supposed to know better now. And yet he still wants to offer mercy, and expects his foe to do the same.

So yeah.

[sleepymccoy]

2024 fics

I didn't realise how many I'd posted this year! I'd've thought it was two lol. So, have a list. They're all spones <3

An Intimacy, A Surprise

This follows a FWB relationship that morphs into proper dating and then marriage. Very TOS compliant. Skips along through time with each chapter being one scene that either moves the plot forward, or that I just wanted to write. The chapters end when they kiss, but I still managed to sneak some sex scenes in (sometimes they argue instead of kissing lol)

A long, complicated path

This is a direct follow on from the previous fic. That one ends with Bones following Spock to the aos universe, so then I was like, well, how would the aos guys handle that. Well, I think one person commented asking that and I was like... oh no now I have to think about it and write it! And the answer is by weaponising a marraige certificate that has their names, and then falling for each other. My main memory in writing this one is that I was finishing my masters in the same month and this was a total stress relief fic that I can barely recall lol. I should read it some time, it's probably quite good

Nice and Vague

Very short a cute fic to get me writing. Established married spones with Spock using McCoy to further his diplomatic work. Ends with long distance phone sex fade to black

Two Thirds of a Whole

I completely forgot this fic exists, but now that I've reread the summary omg I spent so much energy on it. This was in response to a lot of people on tumblr who talk about Bones like he's third wheel that doesn't really matter to Spock and Kirk, which rankles me. So I wrote Bones going to a parallel universe where he never joined the Enterprise. I think the main point of the fic kinda got away from me halfway through tho and it really just ends up being a spones fic, with parallel Spock hitting on him, then Bones going back home and hitting on his Spock. But yeah, I think if I did this again I'd pay more attention to the Bones is important message

Oh Commander Mine

This one is all fun. Intended to be a dubcon fic, but I ended up shying from that a little. There's still some dubconny elements, so read the tags and feel free to ask me specifics if you're concerned but wanna try reading. Bones has to be Spock's vulcan sex slave, and he kinda gets into it in a way he didn't expect. They get together afterwards, with some bad communication skills, but overall it's a healthy sorta ending. It was me trying to write my kinks without shame, but unfortunately I did pull my punches a bit. Maybe I'll write my kinks properly in 2025!

On that, writing aims in 2025

I'm iffy on the trying my kinks again really, but I do have a vague nugget of an idea so if that fills out in a way I find interesting I will. I think writing dubcon is really hard to do honestly without the story getting overwhelmed with shame, which I don't feel about my kinks! So, it's hard to write a solid, genuine story that actually reflects what I wanna read. Commander Mine is a pretty good approximation really

I really wanna redo An Even Number of Souls. It's a great premise but I wrote myself into a bit of a corner and didn't know where to go so it's sitting there unfinished. But I think the story is really strong and I wanna do it. I've restructured and rewritten some scenes, so it's got a good chance. Just need to get the buzz for it again and really settle back into it. Unfortunately for Souls, tis the season of plot bunnies for me rn and I keep having new ideas that are so fun to write instead

I won't have too much trouble writing and posting the odd fic here and there. I've got three active wips rn, one is Spock getting bullied, one is mcspirk, one is a christmas fic I'm probably gonna let stay unfinished tbh. However, I am keen to write some more og fiction than I have been lately. I've got some great stuff in the works!!

I've got a poly story about a cyborg, a doctor, and an engineer. It's kind of about ownership of your own body. It's also about being trans. It's about showing the difference between aromantic and asexual people. It's mostly about writing insanely kinky sex, though. Cyborg guy is gonna get a bluetooth connected detachable dick eventually!

Also got a great story that's always on my mind, it's got two swapping povs. The world is very catholic, set far in the future. One of the povs is a plumber on a spaceship who start to secretly fuck a priest (secret gay style, secret cos it's catholic). The other is a cop on an asteroid investigating the murder of an important church guy. She loses her job around halfway, which is when you realise the priest the plumber is fucking is definitely the murderer. She then jumps in a lil ship with some guy willing to give her the lift, to try and arrest the murderer and get her job back, but instead is just stuck in a tin can with a hot guy (who turns out to be trans) and wants to fuck him (but she has to drop her bigotry before she can)(cos he's trans and has a vagina, theres literally no other barrier for her). At that point the plumber's pov picks up the murder mystery story. So it's kinda like there's two stories, one romance and one murder investigation, and they swap half way who is living which. The characters are very fucked up and fun to write. The murder, btw, is morally okay imo. The gays get a happy ending. Not sure the cop will, we'll see if she's willing to let go of her expectations in the second half of the book. I've written like 2/3s of the first half already!

Anyway that's me on my stories. I'm procrastinating writing the Spock getting bullied story rn by posting this post! So maybe feel free to ask me questions and I can respond instead of writing lol