#but looking at the physical description post I did of her earlier I *think* I got all the major things

[viperwhispered]

And here she actually is

*jazz hands*

an actual sprite for Emi, if you can believe it

Smushed together from different bits and pieces thanks to @alchemivich's assets. Hair is from pngimg with a CC BY-NC 4.0 license, I'll put the link in the replies.

Thanks to Deuce, random dormless background student, Cater, Azul and random Styx scientist for their contributions for making this happen.

Tagging @scint1llat3 @diodellet @moonyasnow @bibi-cha

If anyone else would like to tagged for Emi stuff, please let me know!

You can find more information on my yuusona Emi here on the masterlist.

[taevbears]

To Be Loved - 02

I want adventure in the great, wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader (a bit of reader x jungkook) ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.4k ⤑ warnings: discussions about physical/domestic abuse, descriptions of reader in a toxic relationship, hybrids are seen as sub-human, kangdae is still an asshole, please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: wow, i'm truly overwhelmed by all the notes and comments from the 1st chapter! it's always so nerve-wrecking for me to post new projects, and i can't thank you guys enough for sending me feedback. so i've decided to post this chapter a little earlier than i had planned lol. it's heavily about reader and the bunny hybrid rn, but namjoon definitely will have his chance to shine ;)

Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

“Where are we going?”

That’s a good question. The obvious answer is out of this small, provincial town. Away from Kangdae and his owner. To the countryside, in a bustling city, or a summer cabin in the woods. Anywhere, really.

“I don’t know yet.”

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you keep your gaze on the road. The hybrid is sitting next to you on the passenger seat, wearing some of Kangdae’s clothes, including a black bucket-hat to cover his long ears.

Hours have passed since you and the bunny hybrid left your home and hit the road. 

You’ve wrestled with the idea of packing your bags and leaving everything behind before. It’s something you thought about more than you’d like to admit. After violent arguments between you and Kangdae, where you’ve had enough and where he’d leave you to “cool off” and come back whenever he pleases, you’d throw your things in a duffel bag: clothes, toiletries, a hidden wad of cash, food, the first-aid kit, whatever you could get your hands on.

But every time before, you weren’t able to cross that threshold out the door. You weren’t able to do this alone.

Fear has a tight grip on you. Insecurity as well. Kangdae is well off and financially stable. He could get any girl he wants and make her feel special, just as he’s done with you and all the other women he’s cheated on you with. He has nothing to lose if you leave, but you’ll lose everything: your job, your reputation, your family, your dignity.

Kangdae’s family has control of every business in town. It’s hard to find a job that isn’t directly influenced by them. Your reputation would be tarnished as well. You’ll be the girl who ran away from the most sought-after bachelor in town, and people would think you’re insane. Your family would be disappointed, and you know that running to them would mean they’d just try to make you change your mind and go back to Kangdae before you make things worse. And if you’re not able to make it on your own, what then? Could you even come back to this town once you leave?

The hybrid follows you from room to room, nervous as he helps you carry your things into the car. There were several times when you had a moment of reconsideration, second-guessing yourself that maybe you can’t do this after all and that this whole thing is stupid and reckless.

But the moment you catch a glimpse of his hopeful, doe-shaped eyes, your morale returns. You weren’t able to cross the threshold on your own, but this time, with another person depending on you, you did. With the engagement ring and your cell phone left behind, you don’t look back.

Soon, you find yourself here. In a car with a hybrid, and no real direction on where to go yet. Your options are limited, and the hybrid’s even more so.

You’ve stopped at your bank and withdrew as much cash as you’re able to before closing the account. You’ve stopped at a car mechanic to check your tires and do a quick maintenance, as you’re expecting to be on the road for quite some time. You’ve stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy to purchase more bandages and antibacterial sprays and ointments before re-cleaning the hybrid’s wounds in a parking lot. You’ve stopped at a library to do some research on inexpensive hotels and lodges that allow hybrids, and click away from any shelters and advertised sanctuaries that the hybrid doesn’t look comfortable staying in.

It’s been nonstop since you finally walked out the door, trying to drown away your fears and doubts by keeping busy. By mustering your courage and being prepared.

But now, things have quieted down. There aren’t many cars at this time of night. Many people are in bed or are out spending the rest of their evening with friends and their significant other. Streetlights illuminate the dark roads ahead, but your mind wanders as the music quietly plays from the radio.

It feels crazy. You feel insane doing this.

What if Kangdae comes home? How soon would it be until he finds you? How long would it take until your parents notice? Or your neighbors? Or anyone else? Wouldn’t the hybrid’s abusive owner be looking for him too? Wouldn’t this be considered kidnapping? Rescuing? Are you going to be arrested if you’re caught?

Yet, as you glance at the hybrid next to you, you know you can’t let Kangdae or the owner continue to hurt him. You have to take him somewhere safe at least, and then you’ll deal with the consequences later.

“Do you have a family? Friends? A place to go?”

“No…” the hybrid answers, shaking his head. He doesn’t have any of those. Your heart sinks at the realization.

So, you ask him something that he can answer. “Are you hungry?”

The diner is relatively empty when you and the hybrid are seated. There are a couple truck drivers that are grabbing a quick meal and a cup of coffee before they continue on with their deliveries. A man in a janitorial uniform seems to have just gotten off his late shift and is tiredly eating a sandwich. And a small group of teenagers are enjoying a very late dinner together after a concert or party before they head home.

The hybrid makes sure that his ears are covered with the hat, tugging on the rim to keep it down as he glances at the warning sign on the window that disallows hybrids from entering the establishment. Though, the night staff seems too tired to really care or notice anyway.

“Go ahead and order whatever you want, okay?” you assure him, noting how he seems fixed on the page that lists their salads.

A waitress comes to take your orders and brings you hot coffee and the hybrid a glass of milk. While the two of you wait for your food, you’re so lost in thought, you haven’t noticed the hybrid eyeing you until he finally speaks up. “You’re so nice.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” you reply with a tiny shrug, grabbing the little cups of coffee creamer and packets of sugar.

“Not a lot of humans would do what you’re doing for me,” he says quietly.

Again, you feel your heart sink a little.

Hybrids have been around for thousands of years, yet they’ve always been treated as sub-human. For centuries, humans would overtake their natural habitats, hunt and capture them for sport or to make money, separate them from their packs, enslave them or force them into violence and entertainment. Co-existing with them is still a fairly new and controversial concept as the politics dictating hybrid rights and laws are a heated topic every year.

How much humanity or animal instincts hybrids have or not never really mattered to you. They’re still intelligent, some even more so than humans are. They look human other than some distinct animal features they can’t hide. Yet, they’re treated like vicious monsters, even if humans are the worst.

“More people should,” you simply say as you mix your coffee with cream and sugar.

Soon enough, the waitress sets a big bowl of salad in front of the hybrid and a plate of pancakes and strawberries for you. Just like before, the hybrid scarfs down his food quickly, barely letting himself savor the taste. As if he’s worried that someone would snatch the bowl away from him if he doesn’t eat it fast enough.

“Hey, slow down a little,” you warn him, and he immediately puts down the salad bowl. His eyes flash with guilt and fear, afraid that he made you upset. You offer him a small, friendly smile. “I just don’t want you to choke. Here, I’ll give you some of mine too. This diner claims to be famous for their hot cakes.”

The hybrid watches as you cut up a generous portion and place it on his plate. He still seems a bit confused and hesitant with your actions, but nibbles on the red fruit first.

“You’re nice,” he repeats, more as a reminder to himself than anything.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you with that mean human?”

Your smile fades a little. “You mean Kangdae?”

He nods his head, chewing on his bottom lip, as if he’s still a little nervous about making you angry.

You sigh. “That’s another good question.”

To be honest, it’s something you wonder about all the time. Other than your beauty, you don’t know what else he sees in you. Neither of you really have anything in common. His lifestyle indulges in women, parties, and whatever puts him in the spotlight. Yours is quieter, calmer, and ideally, surrounded by arts and books.

There have been times when it was actually nice to be with him. Days where he’s in a good mood and makes you feel like you’re the one. When his flattery actually charms you and he remembers things like your birthday or an anniversary. Dating him has also opened doors that you wouldn’t have been able to walk through on your own: your job under his parent’s company, a nice apartment in town, trips to resorts and beautiful places, financial stability among other things.

A lot of people say you’re lucky to have him. And at some point, you started to believe that Kangdae is it. That you can’t do any better than him.

Kangdae loved you, and you thought, maybe, you could love him in return.

Even if it isn’t what you envisioned love to be at all.

Things started to become worse after you two moved in together. His gigs as a rapper, an influencer, or a vlogger, weren’t making much income, and he refused to work under his parents, so he never contributed to the bills. He argued with you all the time: about money, about bills, about some random guy being too friendly with you when he’s taking your coffee order, about you spending too much time away from home when your company throws a mandatory get-together, about you not getting dinner hot and ready for him the second he comes home, about you always being too tired or not in the mood for sex. The list goes on.

Yet, somehow, he convinced you to stay.

Out of convenience. Out of the inevitable threat of financial instability. Out of knowing you’d be disappointing everyone who ever told you you’re lucky to be with him. Out of insecurity that you’d honestly not find anyone else who’d love you.

But the hybrid before you is your last straw.

He’s chewing on the lettuce. The motion of his mouth reminds you very much of actual bunnies as he continues to stare at you with big, round eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“It doesn’t matter why I was with him,” you decide, stabbing your fork into your pancake. “What matters is that I’m never going back to him again.”

“Did you love him?”

You frown at your plate. Other than what you gave to the hybrid, you haven’t taken a bite. “I thought I did. But now, I’m not sure. Love always seems so different in books and movies. It looks nicer. Warmer. Sweeter than anything.”

“I think love can be like that in real life too,” the hybrid tells you, seeming a bit shy. “But you won’t find it with that guy. You’re too nice to be with someone like him.”

You smile a little at that. Perhaps it’s because he’s part bunny, but you feel incredibly endeared by him. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“I’m good with any name,” he replies with a tiny shrug. “That guy… the owner… he didn’t give me a name.”

“Is there anything you want me to call you?”

The hybrid rolls his eyes to the ceiling and scratches his cheek in thought. “Jungkook. That’s what I used to be called.”

“Jungkook?”

He nods his head. A small smile forms on his lips. “It’s nice when you say it.”

You laugh a little. “Thank you.”

“No, no. I should be thanking you,” he insists, looking at you quite seriously. “I’ll figure out a way to repay you. I promise.”

“You already did.”

He blinks. “I did? When?”

“Earlier, when you asked me to help you,” you tell him with a wry smile. “I couldn’t save myself, but I had to save you. From your owner, from Kangdae, from all the other mean people. So, thank you for giving me the courage to get us both out of that situation.”

For the next couple of days, you and Jungkook drive as far as you can without much of a destination in mind. 

At first, the two of you stopped at different shelters and adoption centers, but there was always some excuse that made you pull out of the parking lot before you could even make it to the building. The place looked too shabby with faded paint and deteriorating plaster, or the place looked too sterile and heartless to be called a home. Jungkook didn’t trust that they’d actually take care of him, or you’re afraid his owner would find him too easily at that location. 

Eventually, you stopped bothering and skipped potential centers altogether. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems to rather be with you than to be dropped off at a mysterious and scary place, and part of you doesn’t even mind.

He’s good company and an easy person to talk to during the long hours on the road. Even when the radio is off, he’d sing to you or talk for hours straight.

Sometimes, he talks to you about what it’s like to be a hybrid.

“So, you can actually turn into an animal?” you exclaim, shocked by the news. You assume that hybrids stay stuck as a mix between human and animal forever. When Jungkook doesn’t answer you, you glance over at the passenger seat and see a black bunny with the same, doe-shaped eyes staring up at you. “Oh my god, you can!”

He transforms back in a blink of an eye, grabbing the steering wheel when you begin to swerve off the road as he shouts, “Be careful!”

Sometimes, you talk about what it’s like to be human.

“You’re actually a little weak, aren’t you?” Jungkook teases, helping you carry a pack of water bottles among other snacks and road trip essentials to the trunk. “Are all humans like this, or is it just you?”

“I can return the ice cream you picked out, you know,” you threaten as he loads up the trunk. “And the banana milk.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” he says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

Every now and then, you’d stop by at gas stations, rest stops, convenience stores, motels, and fast-food joints. It’s tolling on your body to drive for hours at a time, but the hybrid tries to keep you entertained. And you’re thankful for his company.

“I didn’t think you’d be into this type of music,” Jungkook admits as he fiddles around with the radio. The passenger side where he’s at is wide open as you hand him a drink from the vending machine.

“Why? You don’t like hip hop?” you ask, opening a bottle of water and glugging it down. The two of you are parked at a rest stop so you could stretch your legs and use the public restroom. 

“I like all kinds of music,” he tells you, his thin lips stretching to a shy smile that exposes his bunny teeth. He uncaps his own bottle and asks, “Who’s your favorite artist?”

You almost choke at the question. Honestly, you haven’t really thought about it much, but there is one person that comes to mind. “I don’t think you’d hear him on the radio.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Rap Monster.”

While traveling on the road is daring, fun, full of deep talks, laughter, and singing, it’s also a little scary. In the back of your mind, there’s always that fear that you’ll get caught. That the police would take you back to Kangdae, or that Jungkook’s owner would find you and force him back into more brutal fights and beatings. That someone suspicious would approach you when you’re filling up for gas in the middle of the night, or that you’d end up in an unsafe area.

“Don’t be scared,” Jungkook whispers to you, placing a hand on the small of your back. He eyes the group of men loitering in front of the motel wearily. “If they try to mess with you, I’ll protect you. I’m strong.”

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you murmur back, feeling a bit safer. Taking a deep breath, you briskly walk across the parking lot with the hybrid right behind you. Your gaze is kept firmly on the building, even as the sleazy men in front of it try to whistle and call for your attention. You hear them laughing at how scared you must look.

Had it been Kangdae instead of Jungkook, he’d either start a fight with those men and put the blame on you – claiming that you wanted it, that the way you’re dressed was asking for unwanted attention, that you’re trying to make him jealous by making eye contact with them. If he really felt like being an asshole, he’d shove you toward them until you’re crying and clinging onto him, and Kangdae would laugh and simply say you should feel flattered by the attention.

By the time you check in, Jungkook is already taking all your belongings from the car into the room so you don’t have to go back out there. He doesn’t question you when he finds you sitting on the bed and crying. And you don’t ask him about the redness on his knuckles when you check on his wounds later that night.

At the motel, Jungkook lets you take the bed as he plops down on the couch. It can’t be that comfortable, but he always insists on sleeping there, claiming it’s better than the cage he usually sleeps in. Your heart drops every time he mentions it.

Without a phone, it’s hard to keep researching hybrid centers, checking on the reviews, and looking up their locations. But there are pamphlets of maps, restaurant menus, and local business fliers on the nightstand.

“This place claims to be a humane shelter for hybrids,” you read out loud, looking at the picturesque photos of a variety of hybrids with humans: dog-hybrids of mixed breeds, domestic cat-hybrids with pointy ears and fluffy tails, birds with talons on their feet, and bunnies like Jungkook with long ears and a cute tail. “No kill, free-range, very thorough adoption process to ensure your hybrid finds a new forever home.”

“They’re lies,” Jungkook bitterly states without even looking at it. “All of them are.”

You toss the flier in the nearby wastebasket and sigh. “We need to at least look at some of these places. We can’t keep driving around like this forever.”

Jungkook peeks over at you. Then, in a quieter voice, he asks, “Why not?”

“I want to find you a proper home. With a home gym where you can workout anytime you want. And a nice kitchen with a full fridge where you can eat actual meals instead of living off ramen packets and potato chips. And maybe even a karaoke machine with colorful mood lights so you can sing your heart out,” you explain, imagining he’d have so much fun and be well-taken care of. “I want you to feel comfortable and happy instead of being stuck in my car all the time, and just wandering around aimlessly until our money runs out.”

You see the pout jutting out of his lip. “What if I just want to stay with you?”

“I’m not exactly living in the lap of luxury right now,” you tell him with a sad smile. It’ll be hard to let him go, but you know it’s for the best. Even if he doesn’t agree.

“Then what about you?”

“I’m… still figuring it out,” you reply, sighing again. Finding a home for Jungkook is a priority, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been thinking about your next step. “I have a sister who might be able to take us in for now. I haven’t talked to her for years. She might not even remember me or want to help. But I can’t think of anyone else. She still lives far from here, but if we cut through the forest instead of taking the main roads, we’ll get to her much sooner.”

His silence makes you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing: this is a bad idea.

“It’s going to rain,” he reminds you with a frown. You don’t need animal instincts to know that. The looming, grey clouds in the sky tells you that a storm is near.

Still, you turn on the TV to look at the weather forecast. “I’ll drive slow.”

“It’ll still be dangerous.”

Breaking news. Missing person report. If you have seen this woman, please contact your local authorities immediately. Last seen wearing—

You stare at a photo of yourself on the television. Your heart picks up as Jungkook’s eyes widen. If you thought the cops were after you before, they surely are now.

They’ll find you if you take the main road to your sister’s place.

“We don’t have much of a choice.”

A thick tension hangs in the air between you and Jungkook. It’s something that you haven’t felt since the night the two of you spontaneously decided to run away from your abusers. Every passing car has you on edge, making you wonder how long the two of you can pull this off. If you could even make it to your sister’s place.

Would someone recognize your license plate? Are the cops already on your trail? Would Kangdae and Jungkook’s owner be out there looking for the two of you? What if they catch you? What would you do then?

The windshield wipers swipe back and forth against the heavy rain, but it doesn’t do much good. It’s still so hard to see as your car pulls up to the road leading into the dense forest.

“Just drive slow,” Jungkook reminds you, his voice gentle.

You nod your head. Then, carefully, you step on the gas.

Tall trees cover both sides of the narrow road. Under much nicer weather and better circumstances, perhaps it would be a relaxing, scenic drive to go through. But as it is, it’s terrifying. And dark. You can barely see past what your headlights illuminate.

But at least no one is following you two. For now, anyway.

After a while, everything starts to look the same. It makes you wonder if you’re just driving around in circles. In the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook yawning and trying hard to stay awake with you. But the constant rainfall and the occasional rumbles of thunder seems to lull him to sleep.

“If you’re tired, you could take a nap,” you tell him. It’ll still be a little while until you get to your sister’s place anyway.

“No, no, I should stay up with you,” he mumbles, though his eyes are already closed. His head starts to droop as he nods off, but then, Jungkook suddenly snaps awake. His whole body stiffens as his hand shoots up to grab you.

“Ow! Jungkook, what–?”

Then, you hear it.

A deep, animalistic roar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your car halts to a stop. It sounds so close.

“Don’t stop. Keep driving,” Jungkook urges.

“Right,” you mutter, stepping on the gas again. You’re not even sure what kind of animal it is, but you can’t see anything but shrouds of darkness among the trees. Whatever it is, though, has Jungkook spooked.

“Faster,” he insists. His hand around your arm tightens a little. You push the gas pedal a little more. “Faster!”

Somehow, the roar sounds closer.

The two of you are speeding through the dirt path as safely as you can. Rain continues to fall without letting up. The heavy patter of raindrops hits hard against the rapid swipes of your windshield wipers. You can’t even see what’s even chasing you, but it has Jungkook terrified.

“What do you think it is?” you try to ask him, eyes flickering toward him worriedly.

“I don’t know, but— WATCH OUT!”

A deer is in the middle of the dirt road. Caught in the headlights, it stands frozen.

It feels like everything happens in slow motion.

You and Jungkook are screaming as your hands turn the wheel, swerving out of the way before you hit the poor animal.

Your foot is on the brakes, but the roads are slippery. You’re not able to stop.

Your car slams against a tree. Jungkook’s arm protectively shields you as the airbags trigger upon impact.

Everything feels slowed down, but it happens in an instant.

“Don’t hurt her.”

You’re not sure when, but you must have passed out.

With effort, you try to open your eyes. Your vision is blurry, but you can see that you’ve been pulled out of your car. The front is completely wrecked. Your car door is open and the airbags on both sides are deflated.

It’s still raining. You can feel yourself getting soaked, but you’re pressed against something solid and warm. How did you get here? Is that deer okay?

Where’s Jungkook?

“You don’t need her. You don’t need any of them.”

You don’t recognize that voice. It’s deep and has a bit of a drawl. But you can practically feel the hatred in their voice as you start to drift back into unconsciousness.

“No, she’s different. Please. Please don’t hurt her,” you hear Jungkook begging. His voice wavers as he holds you tighter. “She’s my human.”

“Guys, that’s enough.” A different voice cuts in. This one, somehow, sounds familiar. Deeper than the previous speaker, but warm and smooth. Whoever this voice belongs to seems to recognize one of you too. “Is that— Who are you?”

When you wake up again, you can still hear the rain. It’s soothing this time. The heavy pellets hit the large window, obscuring the view with a watery, grey blur. Your eyes are drawn to the curtains, velvet in color and tied with a knotted rope. There’s a bench in front of the window, stacked with cushions, that looks cozy. You could easily imagine yourself curled up with a book, a blanket, and a bunch of pillows in that spot.

You don’t remember seeing a little nook like that at the motel before.

Actually, you don’t remember any of the motels having one at all.

Where are you?

Panic starts to seep in when you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It looks old. Stuck in a forgotten time with antique furniture and outdated flooring and wallpaper. As you move beneath the duvet, you realize that your clothes have been removed and you’re now wearing one of Kangdae’s shirts that you let Jungkook borrow.

Did he do this? Where is Jungkook anyway?

It looks like you’re alone in this room. But beyond the bedroom door, you’re not sure what’s waiting for you out there.

Across the room, you’re surprised to see your belongings on a chair. Whoever Jungkook was talking to, they must have brought you and your stuff here. You waste no time to get out of Kangdae’s clothes and dress into your own, your feet creaking loudly against the floorboards as you make your way to your duffel bag.

Other than your hybrid friend, nothing else seems to be missing. Everything you packed, including what money you have left, is still there.

You glance over at the door again. One thing is for sure. Jungkook is on the other side somewhere. You can’t just wait around here forever.

The floorboards continue to creak beneath your feet as you make your way to the door. Once you pull it open, the hinges squealing as you do, you nearly scream.

A tall man with dark, wavy hair and small, round ears is just at the other side. His face is strikingly handsome, and his gaze is penetrating as he rests his arm against the doorway and leans so close to you, you can see the tiny beauty marks beneath his eye, on the tip of his nose, his cheek, and his bottom lip.

“Little human. Aren’t you being too noisy?”

“I’m sorry!” you quickly reply, thoroughly mortified. It must have been the floorboards, or maybe even when you were rummaging through your duffel bag for clothes. You didn’t think you were being too loud, but…

“Taehyung, don’t scare our guest away,” another voice says from the hallway.

When you look at the newcomer’s voice, your eyes widen in shock. For a moment, you think you’re looking at an angel. His face looks soft and kind, with full lips and a defined jaw. Some of his dark bangs cover his sharp eyes. But where one of his arms is human, lean and toned with muscle, his other arm is a long, feathered black wing that makes him somehow look more ethereal.

“I’m not scaring her, Jimin,” the one named Taehyung whines, straightening up. It’s when he’s at his full length when you realize just how tall this man is. And how sharp his claws are. He peers down at you and confirms, “Right, little human?”

“Um. Yes?”

The one named Jimin moves so gracefully as he approaches you two. There’s a friendly smile on his angelic face. “Don’t mind him. He usually hibernates around this time, so he’s a little cranky. Bear hybrids tend to sleep more than the rest of us.”

Taehyung snorts and scratches his belly. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Jimin must be right. There’s a hint of tiredness in his stoic face.

“It’s all right,” Taehyung mumbles, now scratching his head.

“You must be hungry,” Jimin guesses, and at the very mention of food, your stomach growls in agreement. Heat colors your cheeks, but Jimin continues to smile and merely nods to where he came from. “Follow me, then. I’ll tell Seokjin and Yoongi to make something for you.”

Again, it looks like he’s floating with every step he takes. It’s obvious that he’s a bird hybrid, but his graceful movements remind you of a swan. A black swan.

Behind you, much to your surprise, Taehyung follows. Earlier, he seemed so adamant about going back to sleep. There’s still a grumpy, tired look on his face – brown eyes glazed over with drowsiness and his lips pouting slightly – yet, he still trails behind both you and Jimin.

The swan hybrid notices and smirks a little. “He’s curious about you.”

You can’t really imagine why. Or if that’s even a good thing.

Jimin leads you both to a foyer. There are more hybrids sitting around the fireplace. It’s warm, orange glow casts lights upon each of their animalistic features.

From the lounge chair is a man with pale skin and leopard-printed ears and a long tail. Along one side of his neck, shoulder, and arm are spots that look like tattoos. His gaze feels intimidating the moment he locks eyes with you, and his long tail swishes back and forth slowly.

On the other chair, another man turns to look at you as well. Like Taehyung, his face is strikingly handsome. Pointed ears and a long tail indicate that he’s a wolf, but bigger. You’re not sure if it’s the reflection of the fire, but his sharp eyes look golden and are practically glowing.

The last one, sitting comfortably with the predator hybrids, is an elaphocentuar – half-human, half-deer. The upper-part of his body is of a human man with strong antlers on his head, but the bottom-half is of a spotted deer. The reddish-brown of his fur matches the hair on his head.

A few days ago, you’ve rarely seen a hybrid in person. Now, you’re in a room full of them.

“You’re awake!” a familiar voice exclaims before a solid mass just pulls you into a tight hug. Relief washes over you when you recognize who it is.

“Jungkook! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” you immediately ask, your voice a little muffled from his hold. You pull away enough to get a good look at him. There are some fresh bruises from the accident, but no broken bones or concerning wounds from what you can tell.

“I’m fine. I was more worried about you,” he admits as he begins to ramble. “I was a little disoriented, but I managed to get out of the car. I pulled you out of the driver’s seat too. The car is completely wrecked! I don’t know if you’ll be able to drive it anymore. But that deer we almost hit was a hybrid!”

You glance over at the deer hybrid. He moves a little closer to the leopard-hybrid, body entirely stiff since you stepped into the room, and staring at you like he’s still caught in the headlights. You feel awful and you don’t blame him at all for being scared of you.

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

The deer-hybrid merely blinks, as if he isn’t sure you’re talking to him. Then, meekly, he replies, “I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re not,” you tell him sincerely.

“Me too,” Jungkook agrees, offering a small smile at the deer-hybrid as well. “They found us right after the accident. You were so cold and wet, I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. They said I had to get you out of your wet clothes or you’d get sick, but I promise I didn’t do anything weird! And then, I just waited for you to wake up on your own. You’ve been asleep for a while, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“We recognized Jungkook as one of us, so we had to check on him,” the leopard-hybrid explains, his gaze not once leaving you. You vaguely recognize his voice as the one Jungkook was arguing with. “He insisted that we had to help you too.”

“She’s different from the other humans!” Jungkook defends. His arms are still around you rather protectively. “She’s so nice. She’s been helping me and taking care of me. I couldn’t just leave her behind.”

“We don’t normally allow humans anywhere near this place,” the handsome wolf adds on. It’s obvious why. Not only are they hybrids, but they’re exotic. Black swan, clouded leopard, dire wolf. Even the bear and deer hybrids are uncommon compared to the rabbits, dogs, cats, rodents, and bird hybrids. “But the young master of this manor made an exception for you.”

“The master?”

“That would be me.”

The final resident of this house of hybrids steps in. He’s tall and muscular with perfect body proportions. He has short, brown hair and tanned skin. But the fullness of his lips, the deep dimples in his cheeks, and the dark sunglasses over his eyes are things you instantly recognize.

You haven't seen him since that night all those years ago.

“Rap Monster?”

His lips stretch into a smile. “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

Jungkook looks between you and the master of the house, eyes wide with awe and surprise. “That’s Rap Monster? Your favorite artist?”

Rap Monster arches an eyebrow. “Favorite artist?”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yeah, you, uh. You rap good.”

The leopard snorts, and you feel the curious gazes of the hybrids around you. You’re ready to crawl back into the room you woke up in and hide forever until you hear Rap Monster’s laughter.

Unlike the other hybrids, Rap Monster doesn’t have any animal parts to his body. No round ears or fluffy tails, no antlers or hooves, no feathered wings or webbed feet.

He looks completely human.

Except for one thing.

“I’ve gotten a lot better at rapping over the years. I’ll have to show you sometime,” he says, taking off his sunglasses. The move is unexpected to the hybrids living with him as he reveals to you his serpent eyes. The irises are a beautiful blend of indigo, deeper and more purple on the outer edges and bluer and lighter in the inner parts – unlike anything humans could naturally have. Warm brown is around the dark pupils that are vertically slitted, and they’re even more beautiful than you remember.

You could never forget eyes like his. They’re mesmerizing.

“That would be really nice,” you tell him, forcing yourself to look away from them. “But I don’t want to be a bother. I really appreciate the help and I can’t thank you enough for bringing us in, but I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

He arches an eyebrow at you again. It makes your stomach flip a little, and not in an entirely bad way. “How? The storm is still going and your car is damaged.”

Your heart sinks a little. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

Truth be told, you have no idea what to do now. Your car was your only means of transportation, and it’s undrivable. It’s too dangerous for you to travel around in the forest by foot, especially if you don’t know how far you are from the main roads. And even then, you’re reported as a missing person. Kangdae and the others are trying to find you.

“Don’t be silly. Just stay with us,” Rap Monster kindly offers. “I wouldn’t have allowed you in if I thought you’d be a danger to my pack.”

You glance at the other hybrids in the room. They’re looking at you with uncertainty, and perhaps, a bit of annoyance. They’ve told you themselves that they’re weary of humans, and given the history between your species and theirs, you can’t exactly blame them for that. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You won’t,” he assures you gently. In those two words alone, the doubt and hesitation start to leave your mind. “Stay as long as you like.”

It feels crazy and stupid, but at this point, trying to leave this shelter in the middle of a storm feels crazier and stupider.

“Okay,” you decide, peering up at his beautiful eyes again. “Until the storm passes.”

“Until the storm passes,” he agrees, as the clash of thunder and lightning seem even louder than before.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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[sanest-bsd-delegate]

CAN YOU DO BSD BOYS HAVING A S/O WHO IS CHILDISH AND SARCASTIC BUUUT THEIR S/O IS SECRETLY HAS FRAGILE PERSONALITY AND OVERTHINKS? ONLY IF YOU ARE COMFORTABLE AND HAVE TIME THO 😭😭 . (I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS REQUEST BECAUSE EVERY POST OF YOURS IS PIECE. OF. ART.) SKSKJSKSNSLWK

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

headcanon: Who knew that even the boldest overthinks? ft: Dazai, Chuuya and Ranpo

MASTERLIST

Dazai

He was onto the traditional method of suicide, the typical jumping off the roof. Unfortunately for him yet again, someone had to interrupt him. "Oh look its you Y/N!" Dazai comments, laughing as he stood on the hard ground. Shaking your head, you just pinched him on his arm as you drag him back to the ADA office.

"Are you out of your mind Dazai? Oh wait you don't even have the audiency to ow-"

"It hurts Y/NNNNN" Dazai comments, as he rubs the spot where you previously held his arm.

'Did I pinch him to hard? Oh fuck, is he hurt? what if-'

Almost thinking, Dazai wrap his arms around you as he laughs out loud, burying his head on your shoulders. "I was joking Y/NNN". You look at Dazai, as you hold his face, before pouting and holding a childish frown on you face, clearly disappointed. You were about to turn you head away before Dazai holds your face with his hands staring at your eyes before kissing your forehead.

"Why do you keep saving me?"

"Oh I don't know? But that wasn't clearly in my job description"

Chuuya

It was one of those occasions where you would wake up earlier then Chuuya, as you would walk outside the room to see the mess you created last night. You both had been through a really messed up mission and Chuuya being Chuuya, thought too get drunk.

Guess it was you turn today to make breakfast today.

"Morning" Chuuya says, rubbing his eyes while walking towards the dining table seating himself while he half sleep watches you make breakfast. "Oh? is that Chuuya speaking to me or is it Mr bonnie lass am speaking with?" You said jokingly, as you place two plates of breakfast in front of you.

"Seriously Y/N? Its to early for this" He says while trying to stay awake, his body yet to fully sober up. "Early? Its 10 am in the morning...Mr bonnie lass wouldn't act like that" you joked, while drinking the cup of coffee. missing the blush that had formed on her lover's face.

There was an awkward silence after that. 'did I do something wrong? did i cross the limit?'. You look down at the table before giving a sigh, letting the overthinking thoughts consume you, but before it could you hear him speak,

"The breakfast was delicious Y/N"

You look up to reach his eye level, his head tilted on one of his hands, as he gave you a grin something you could never tired off. "Oh really? glad to know"

"You should make breakfast everyday you know?," he says, before walking over and giving you a kiss on forehead before walking towards the sink to rinse the plates.

"No thanks, besides you look cute in aprons. Any who would wanna miss checking you out wearing that?"

Ranpo

"Ranpo! You cant keep eating candies forever!" You commented as you snatch the snacks he held in his hands, before keeping it away on the top shelf, "Geez, How come you haven't gotten diabetes yet from eating so much candies".

Yeah, that was the last time you talked to Ranpo. He had quite been ignoring you at the agency, turning his head away each time you came in his view pounding and secretly throwing a tantrum inside. You on the other hand, just couldn't figure out why he was ignoring you. You both never fought, and infact Ranpo was a type of person who would never try get separate from you. He carved for physical affection, and when he didn't it got you concerned. Was it your fault? Did you do something wrong? Will this become the reason that you and him drift apart? You didn't know.

"Ranpo," You spoke, your arms wide open as you take a step towards him, a little guilty and unsure how he would react. He is mad isn't it? "Did I do something wrong?...Please tell me"

Ranpo seemed to catch your emotions before viewing your arms, he dived into the hug whining and complaining, "Y/NNN you never gave me my candy back, I wanted to finish it"

Oh? So that was the reason he refused to talk to you?

"You are a big baby you know that?" You said, as you reached the cabinet and give him the sweet snack back, only for him to beam brightly and start eating again. You look at him, shaking your head wondering if your boyfriend was a 26 year grown old man or a 6 year old child.

I had the idea to bullet them all, now I dont even know if I wrote a headcanon or a drabble. (ps tysm love😭, your words mean a lot :D srry for the wait)

[greenhikingboots]

Jon’s Pre-Canon Crush

Okay, Jonsa fam. I’ve seen a lot of great posts, especially in the last few months, about Jon’s reactions to Val. Among them, there’s one particular vein I like to assume everyone loves as much as I do. That is, when Jon thinks of Val’s hair as silver vs. when he thinks of it as the color of dark honey. You’ve seen those metas, right? They explain the likelihood of Jon’s future connection to Dany being negative — The air tastes cold. / My tongue is too numb to tell. All I taste is cold. — while his future connection to Sansa will be positive — It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

Well, in this post I want to expand on the angle of Val-is-sometimes-a-stand-in-for-Sansa. Only, I don’t want to speculate on what will happen between Jon and Sansa in the future, if we ever get GRRM’s last two books. Enough people have already done that, and they’ve done it so wonderfully that I have little to add. Instead, as the title of this post says, I want to focus on Jon’s pre-canon crush. More specifically: I want to focus on what Jon’s thoughts and feelings about Val say about his thoughts and feelings about Sansa.

But let me lay some groundwork first, okay? Until a few weeks ago, I went back and forth on pre-canon crush theories. I agreed they held a lot of potential and were a lot of fun to daydream about — a great premise for a one-shot, to be sure! Oh, and I’ve always loved it when people said things like, “Hey, Jon, your Targaryen is showing.” That’s classic stuff. But did I really think GRRM meant to hint at prior feelings rather than just laying a foundation for future feelings? Again, until a few weeks ago, I wasn’t totally convinced either way. But now I am fully committed to the Pre-Canon Crush Camp, assigned to cabin Jon-Had-Feelings-for-Sansa. [Did Sansa have feelings for Jon too? Ummm maybe? I think there’s some evidence to support that, but not as much. But, hey, that’s not the point of this post. Sorry. Moving on.] So what changed? Well, basically some ideas I’d previously had sunk in on a deeper level. It started with this post from @sherlokiness. It talks about GRRM commenting on a discrepancy in the books, two occasions where Jeyne Westerling’s physical descriptions do not match up. GRRM said the discrepancies were a mistake, a really unfortunate one because it distracts from the times when he intentionally included discrepancies of physical appearances. And basically us Jonsas loved it. Like, “Yep! Make sense! We assumed as much already, Mr. Martin.” And that’s because of the canon line mentioned earlier, right? You know the whole thing, don’t you? Oh, but you want me to quote it here anyway? Okay, fine, I’ll oblige.

They [Ghost and Val] look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white [bleh, bleh, bleh] …but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

Direwolf. Lots of white. Suspicious ellipses. Blue eyes. Long braid the color of dark honey. Right, okay, got it.  [BTW. Did you know there’s also a point, early on, where Val’s described as having high cheekbones? You know, a feature Sansa has as well!?!?] Anyway, when I saw sherlokiness’s post about GRRM’s comments and the Jonsas relating it to that canon scene with Ghost and Val, I reblogged it. Naturally. And in the tags I said something like, “I’ll have to double check but I’m pretty sure the willowy creature line comes after this line. As in, maybe Jon knew exactly who Val reminded him in that moment and he was trying to talk himself out of his pre-canon crush coming back to the surface.” I’m paraphrasing here. My tags were probably not as clear as that. Also, I was being a bit facetious. It was a thought I’d had before, but just a passing one. Again (AGAIN! Do I say that too much?), I’d been going back and forth about pre-canon crush theories for a long time. But @agentrouka-blog saw my tags and was like, “You might be onto something there.” And then @zimshan saw my tags too and did the double check for me. Thanks! And guess what? GUESS WHAT, JONSA FAM!? I was right about the order. First, Jon sees Ghost and Val, thinks her eyes are blue and her hair is like dark honey, and it is a lovely sight. Second, this line:

Val looked the part [of a princess] and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

But guess what else? The order isn’t even the most striking thing. The most striking thing is how closely these two lines appear to one another — within just a few pages!!! That's what zimshan said. So I went back to read it myself. Not just the two lines to check the order, but a little before, and a little after, and everything in between. If you want, you can do the same. It’s ADWD Jon XI.

Want to know what stuck out to me most? The willowy creature line actually seems… so odd, and out of place, and unnecessary. I swear to you. Let me try to explain.

Basically, by that point in the chapter, Jon has already clearly established his take on Val. She’s beautiful, everyone knows it, but she’s more than that. She’s strong and capable. She found Tormund and brought him back to Castle Black when Jon’s Night’s Watch Rangers couldn’t manage it. Like, Jon’s thankful for Val, okay? 

Oh, and he also seems aware that he holds her in higher regard than the rest of the men who keep calling her a princess even though she’s not one. I think he feels smug about it, to be honest. Like, he wouldn’t use these words because it’s ASOIAF, but he knows he’s a budding feminist and he’s proud of himself for it. Like, “I’m so much better than these asshats who don’t respect women and think all Val has to offer is her pretty face.”

How great is that? I love book Jon so much.

Where was I, though? Oh! Oh, oh, oh! This next part is key. Up until the willowy creature line, Jon has not had a single disparaging thought about Val. Val being cruel about Shireen’s greyscale hasn’t happened yet. But for some reason — *Getting too executed. Brain malfunctioning!*

AH! I SWEAR JONSA FAM! If you read the willowy creature in fuller context, it comes across as if Jon’s correcting himself for having a disparaging thought about Val, like he’s reminding himself of who she truly is. She’s a warrior princess, not a willowy creature. But like, why? Why does Jon feel the need to do this? He hasn’t had a disparaging thought about Val, so why correct himself as if he has?

Just because she’s beautiful? Just because he’s tired of other men calling her a princess? I mean, I guess that could be the whole story. That’s certainly how we’re supposed to take it, if we’re taking it at face value. But I’m not convinced. Go read it again, and I think you’ll see that when the willowy creature line happens, it actually feels like a weird logic leap.

The dots aren’t connecting because one dot is missing!!!! Let me put a pin in that for a moment while I turn to other mini metas in our Jonsa fandom. Antis like to say, “Jon doesn’t like girls like Sansa. He doesn't like willowy creatures, he said so himself.” But we know that’s crap, right? The boy who liked Ygritte’s gentle side? The boy who helps Alys Karstark by marrying her to Sigorn? The boy who dreamed his mother was a highborn lady with kind eyes? The boy who wanted to show his hypothetical wife Winterfell’s glass gardens and bath with her in the hot pools?

Yeah, that boy is a budding feminist, like I said.

So again I ask (AGAIN!) why would Jon — who is not especially critical of women in general and has not been critical of Val at all up to this point — feel the need to correct himself by thinking this critical thing about willowy creatures? In other words, why does he lift up Val by putting down some vague idea of other women he’s never had a problem with before?

Well, obviously it turns out that I believe my facetious, tongue in cheek tags more than I realized when I wrote them. My position is that somewhere in the two pages between ...a long while since Jon had seen a sight so lovely… and ...not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair… Jon realized Val reminded him of Sansa, he felt guilty and ashamed about it, and then felt the need to do damage control. And because guilt and shame are icky, confusing feelings, his damage control took the form of being critical of Sansa even though he isn’t normally critical of such women. 

Am I making sense? How do I explain myself further? Like, why am I so stuck on this idea Jon’s willowy creature line being two pages after the Ghost and Val looking lovely together line must mean Jon had a pre-canon crush?

I think the crux is what I said about the willowy creature line feeling like a weird logic leap — like the dots aren’t connecting because one is missing. The missing dot is Jon being aware that he’s mentally swapped Val with Sansa. He just doesn’t acknowledge this on the page.

Let me be extra clear. I’m now differing from several others who have written about pre-canon crush theories in that I think Jon was aware of his crush. I’ve seen many say it’s all subconscious. But this stuff with Val makes me think otherwise.

I mean, I know Jon has a pattern of dissociation. For him, thinking, and speaking, and acting from his subconsciousness is a common occurrence. So, yes, he could have subconsciously thought Val looked like Sansa and subconsciously felt guilty and ashamed and therefore subconsciously decided to do damage control by subconsciously reminding himself Val is a warrior princess and therefore not a willowy creature.

But I think GRRM was hinting at an exception to Jon’s pattern with these canon lines. Because if the first part is happening subconsciously — Jon thinking Val looks like Sansa and that it’s a lovely sight — then he wouldn’t feel the need to do damage control afterwards? If he wasn’t aware of thinking of Sansa in that moment, isn’t it more likely he’d just carry on with taking Val to meet Selyse, and the odd, out of place, unnecessary line about a willowy creature wouldn’t have been included? What else, what else?

I said earlier that I think Jon’s crush is an innocent, not sexual thing. Let me expand on that. And uuuuuhhhhh... let me clarify that I think that might be changing some over time.  My guess is when Jon was younger, his thoughts were more along these lines: “Sansa is pretty, and a proper lady, and everything men are taught to want. She’ll be a good wife for someone someday. Obviously not me. That’s sinful, I don’t want it, and I’m a bastard so I can’t marry a highborn lady anyway. But objectively, Sansa’s a good catch.” Which kinda matches how Jon thinks of Val at times, right? Like, she’s a catch but he doesn’t want her. He’s not taking Winterfell and a Wife because Winterfell belongs to Sansa and he’s a man of the Night’s Watch, dammit! But hang on a second. Sometimes Jon’s thoughts about Val are more elicit, aren’t they? He thinks about the size of her breasts and she’s the hypothetical wife he pictures romancing in Winterfell. Don’t worry, I’m not saying I’m secretly a Jon/Val shipper. What I’m getting at is this other thing we’ve talked about in the Jonsa fandom. Jone projects his general desires onto Val. He’s getting older. He’s unhappy at the Wall. Winterfell isn’t Robb’s like he thought it would be, and Bran and Rickon are thought to be dead. And Stannis is offering Winterfell and Val to him. Plus he’s now been intimate with a woman, Ygritte. So he knows that sex feels nice. All in all, Jon’s becoming more in tune with wanting Winterfell, and a wife, and a family, and wanting to fu—

You get the idea. ;)

Soooooo. If you buy into the premise that A) Jon considered Sansa a good catch when they were younger B) He’s thinking more and more about romance and sex C) Val is also a good catch and easy to project feelings onto and D) Woopsies, Val just reminded me of Sansa! Well, then where does all that leave Jon? Feeling like he needs to distance himself from positive thoughts about Sansa, right? But without ever thinking her name because of his pattern of dissociation and because GRRM is tricky like that.  Am I making my point clearer, or just talking in circles?  Like, I know plenty of people have already said Val is a switch-back-and-forth-stand-in-for-other-characters. The first two short paragraphs of this post mentions those metas.  But holy smokes! If Jon is aware of A-D mentioned above, that adds a fascinating layer of subtext to his scenes with and thoughts about Val.  Let’s talk about it forever!

Just kidding. I think I’m almost done here.  Basically, I think the willowy creature line is Jon knowingly saying to himself, “Yikes, the thoughts I had about Sansa in the past didn’t bother me much because they were 99% innocent. But they are less innocent now and that’s a problem! You can’t like Sansa! Don’t confuse Sansa with Val,  dummy! Val is a warrior princess! Sansa is a willowy creature and willowy creatures are bad!”

Okay, sure, Jon.  Let me wrap up with one more canon line.

Of Sansa brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.

We often link this line to Ygritte for obvious reasons, but I’m now in the habit of linking it more to Val and the canon lines mentioned previously. I think GRRM wrote a the three lines — a sight so lovely + willow creature + of Sansa brushing out Lady’s coat — as a subtle continuation of one another. Us Jonsas saw the potential for underlying romantic feelings in the last one, that’s nothing new. But I want to add that it’s a direct contrast to the willowy creature line. As Jon is bleeding out, he can no longer be bothered to put up a front and pretend he doesn’t have feelings for Sansa, feelings that have gotten more complicated as of late.

Oh so subtle. Really not that much different than what others have said before me. But different enough I wanted to mention it. Now someone put it in a fanfic!!

[vickyvicarious]

It looks to me like Jack began feeling distanced from Lucy even before he looked at her tomb to find her (unbeknownst to him) as a vampire. His descriptions of her were kinda getting cold and clinical while she was dying and becoming halfway through vampiric...

Yes, I agre there's a bit of a pattern there! I actually collected a bunch of moments of it happening earlier, but they're together with a very spoilery post. Here, I'll copy/paste the Lucy ones below for people who don't want the spoilers.

There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, lay poor Lucy, more horribly white and wan-looking than ever. Even the lips were white, and the gums seemed to have shrunken back from the teeth, as we sometimes see in a corpse after a prolonged illness. Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp in anger, but the instinct of his life and all the long years of habit stood to him, and he put it down again softly. “Quick!” he said. “Bring the brandy.” I flew to the dining-room, and returned with the decanter. He wetted the poor white lips with it, and together we rubbed palm and wrist and heart. He felt her heart, and after a few moments of agonising suspense said:— “It is not too late.”

I find Jack’s sudden detachment in this scene so interesting. I think he might have done this before to an extent, describing physical symptoms almost as a separate phenomenon rather than a part of the person. He certainly spoke of Lucy rather formally in some medical contexts (“Patient improved” etc.). But it’s especially striking here how quickly he goes from humanizing language to speaking about her almost as an object. It happens right when he describes her lips and teeth - which holds a lot of significance vampirically.

Jack obviously isn’t looking at Lucy thinking she’s a vampire. But he outright says that the look of her teeth/gums reminds him of a corpse. She looks dead. And seeing that, he describes her more clinically, seeking to distance himself emotionally from the sight. He can’t completely do it (that’s how we get “the poor white lips”, still sympathetic) but it’s not until he gets to Lucy’s heart - and how it is still beating - that he returns to saying “her”.

I found several more instances of this happening with Lucy as well, including what seems like a trend almost of Jack starting to key in to her more vampiric moments over time.

On 18 September, only briefly:

Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although more haggard, and her breathing was softer; her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which thus looked positively longer and sharper than usual; when she woke the softness of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dying one.

Then as she is dying on the 20th it happens more, and specifically in multiple instances when she was more vampiric:

Lucy was breathing somewhat stertorously, and her face was at its worst, for the open mouth showed the pale gums. Her teeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than they had been in the morning. In particular, by some trick of the light, the canine teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest. I sat down by her, and presently she moved uneasily. […] And then insensibly there came the strange change which I had noticed in the night. Her breathing grew stertorous, the mouth opened, and the pale gums, drawn back, made the teeth look longer and sharper than ever. […] I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, and we saw a spasm as of rage flit like a shadow over her face; the sharp teeth champed together. Then her eyes closed, and she breathed heavily.

When he visits her grave with van Helsing on the 27th he starts by talking about her emotionally then cutting off when he gets to her lips, and after that point doesn’t describe her corpse with humanizing language at all for the rest of that entry:

She was, if possible, more radiantly beautiful than ever; and I could not believe that she was dead. The lips were red, nay redder than before; and on the cheeks was a delicate bloom. […] “Are you convinced now?” said the Professor in response, and as he spoke he put over his hand, and in a way that made me shudder, pulled back the dead lips and showed the white teeth. “See,” he went on, “see, they are even sharper than before. With this and this"—and he touched one of the canine teeth and that below it—” […] He was looking intently at the face of the dead woman, raising the eyelids and looking at the eyes, and once more opening the lips and examining the teeth.

And by 29 September, after seeing her in action he speaks of her pretty firmly as a thing, at least until Arthur has finished staking her:

Then she turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiver from Van Helsing’s iron nerves. Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid, the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell-fire, the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh were the coils of Medusa’s snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death—if looks could kill—we saw it at that moment. […] She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there; the pointed teeth, the bloodstained, voluptuous mouth—which it made one shudder to see—the whole carnal and unspiritual appearance, seeming like a devilish mockery of Lucy’s sweet purity. […] The Thing in the coffin writhed; and a hideous, blood-curdling screech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered and twisted in wild contortions; the sharp white teeth champed together till the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam. […] And then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and the teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay still. […] There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we had so dreaded and grown to hate that the work of her destruction was yielded as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as we had seen her in her life, with her face of unequalled sweetness and purity.

Even if he doesn't realize what he's doing, it feels like it happens enough to say there's something there. Him sensing the change and not liking it, without realizing at first why.

[leoremin]

I just finished watching the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen...and I have...thoughts (along with some bad grammar)

This is an overall negative post, so if you don't like that keep scrolling. If you like this movie, go ahead and scroll on past if you don't want to read this. If you want to debate me, then hell, go ahead, I might be wrong in some areas and I'm fully willing to admit that. I'd love to see anyone's take on this movie.

To say real quick, I haven't finished reading Dracula (over 1/2 through tho), Sherlock Holmes, 4 billion leagues under the sea, and a few others.

Also...spoilers...obv

(last note: I am not against retellings or that stuff, I'm just rating it on MY OPINION of these little guys and all that stuff. This is depending on how much I like them from just a writers sense.)

Tbh I really love the idea of crossovers, I love so much seeing the babies all together (I am working on a crossover myself so...) but I feel like this one was just...mediocre

First up Jekyll!

Number one, assuming this takes place after the novella, that is not how HJ7 works. Jekyll turning back into Hyde is not right then. At that point, Henry would be living on a timer rather than Hyde.

Also, little pet peeve...THE POTION SHOULD BE GREEN!!!! THE POTION'S FINAL COLOUR IS GREEN AND THEY MADE IT CLEAR!!!

Also Jekyll is a doctor, he acts like the fucking wimpy Swiss man from Frankenstein. Jekyll is meant to be a (mentally) strong man who experimented on himself and kept good notes during the whole thing. He is a doctor; he is used to seeing some shit.

Also...why would you make Hyde look like that? One of the few clear physical descriptions in the book is that Hyde is much shorter than Jekyll, but he's...hulkish. I don't like that because it takes the monstrosity away, pinning it all on looks and not on action.

Also why Paris? Why did Hyde run to Paris? There wasn't really a reason for him to do that in a writing sense.

Upside: At least he continues to run on rooftops. All Hydes run on rooftops; it is not optional.

Next on the Chopping block is Dorian.

For a moment there, I really thought they ruined Dorian, but hell yeah! They kinda did it!

I wish they'd had another actor to play him, since the dark hair makes him look a little malicious, which is quite the opposite of what he's supposed to look like. He's supposed to be a child-like and innocent; deceiving.

Also...what the fuck was his ending?? Like he doesn't perish if he looks at the portrait. It literally says earlier that "the last time [he] looked at the picture" which literally contradicts what happens later. He can look at the picture, but chooses not to.

I am glad they decided to not have him redeem himself. That fits a little closer to the book.

For Mina!

Quick thing: I have not yet finished reading Dracula, so I have no clue what's happening there or why she's the vampire (please don't spoil it) so I won't say anything on that (cough cough...should've been Carmilla)

I don't like making women the sole love interest. It feels weird. Literally three people liked her (well only 2, Dorian was pretending) out of five. Make it interesting, make it something someone would ship...there is literally no chemistry between any of them (except Dorian, and we don't even get a proper "oh yeah I hooked up with him" moment. It's only implied. When did that happen???). Also, Mina isn't that kind of person. She's (in book) not looking for romance in that sense, she had a husband, and I'm pretty sure she'd probably stay faithful to him even after death.

Speaking of Chemistry, why tf is she a chemist? Jekyll should've been the chemist. Mina is literally known for being able to write in shorthand, and they could've used that to her advantage. Again, please excuse this if somehow Mina does become a scientist after Dracula, but considering people's views on women in that time period, it's unlikely.

Skinner:

I think that's his name...idk. I have not read the Invisible Man, but why would they kill off Griffin? Like Jekyll dies, but he doesn't have a replacement. I can't say much since I haven't read the book.

I think that's all.

Thank you coming to my Little Leo lecture, and I hope anyone reading agrees, or can hopefully handle this as a mature adult. If you have other thoughts on this movie (whether they agree with mine or not) go ahead and share them, I'd be thrilled.

I may update this as I have things to say, but idk.

[horror-beeings-artandwriting]

Big post explaining everything including hiatus stuff,

TW: Mention of depression, suicidal thoughts, parent death, and just trauma dumping so uh yeah

First and foremost I am not going on hiatus On this blog, However @ask-malachite-rot-crkau is on hiatus until further notice, due to mental health stuff and also story stuff I’m still figuring out!

Next why am I going on hiatus. I’m gonna put this under an undercut due to some people on my blog not wanting to see my dumb mental health junk. So uh yeah TW STARTS HERE!!

As I said in an earlier post, my mother pasted away recently, now my mother was not in good health for the last 10 years of my life, I was one of her main caregivers along side my father (my grandparents even though they could help never offered)

I was 7 when my life started going to hell, my mother fell and got an infection in her knee. and due to the state I live in, when my mom was in the hospital for almost a month she had going septic, gotten allergic reactions the doctors were shit. I was never able to see her due to my age. and when I did, her leg was…open. I still remember how her muscles looked.

I closed myself off, kept getting called brave for dealing with her being sick. She became disabled, she couldn’t walk at all. And the doctors never got her into the proper physical therapy. So she never truly recovered. Then another thing happened, she lost her right due to another accident

I started at 7 years old thinking it would be better to not wake up. But I never said anything, fast forward a couple years my mom has to go on dialysis due to the medication that she was given that when she went septic caused her to get a really damaged kidney and hearts, and she already had diabetes. It wasn’t helping.

In April 6th of this year I woke up went to the front room, complaining about school to my father, my mother in her and my fathers bedroom, we walked in to go check on her because she wasn’t answering and saw her passed out.

An hour later she was dead. I watched my mother die.

The paramedics didn’t even cover her body, so I saw her hand poking out from under the sheet.

That day I lost everything.

I started thinking about killing myself every day how it would be better to rot away and die. I hated being alive but the only reason I didn’t do anything was because I thought my dad already lost the love of his life the woman he was married to for 24 years. I will not put him through another loss.

So I kept it together. I didn’t speak I didn’t cry. I was a soild wall, I watched my grandma my mom’s mother go through loosing her daughter.

Right before her funeral I lost it, I told my dad I wanted to kill myself. He immediately got me on anti depressants. And I’m doing better now.

Thanks to my best friend and brother @hunterwritesstuff and my family.

I am okay. I just I know some people wanna know sorry if this is to descriptive I just yeah…

[16magnolias]

How about #25 for the OC ask game for Lucía 👀

25.What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

Boy howdy, the answer to this question just keeps going and going. I don't know if you were shooting for the Abridged Full History of the Development of Lucía Moreno-Hernandez, but that's what you're gonna get.  😅

Originally, Everday Miracle was just going to be a silly little one shot of how Bruno got the dang horse at the end of the movie. With the first draft of the first chapter, Lucía was just a throw away character. 😬😅 I asked myself 'where did Bruno get that horse and how did he get it?', and Lucía was a means to an end - she was just someone kind enough to recognize a desperate man when she saw one and offer him a way to get where he needed to go, without putting up too much of a fuss about who he was.

And then I thought - wouldn't it be nice if Bruno had a friend? And wouldn't it be nice if he could help her in some way too?

....and it ballooned wildly from there. 😂

I didn't know what a fancharacter was until I looked it up and I suppose technically speaking she is a fancharacter because I created her specifically for this Encanto story!

Originally her two main traits were kind and practical, and I think I've stayed pretty true to those traits, though of course her personality developed and became more complex from there. I played around with the idea of her having more than one child and also swapping aspects of her and her sister Sofia - aka in another universe, Lucía might have had 5 kids and run the horse stables while Sofia ran the print shop with Lorenzo. Ultimately I decided that was way too many kids for poor Bruno to have to win over and way too many people for me to keep track of writing. (There are already 12 Madrigals! 12! I did not need to add another 6 main characters 😂.)

As for her design, I admit I came up with her personality and background waaaaay before I ever thought about what she looked like physically. (Back when I was only posting on ff.net, I didn't describe in detail anything but her eyes and height until chapter 22!  When I transferred the story to AO3 I moved some descriptions around so people had a better idea of what she looked like earlier on.)

I settled on the design I ultimately did because it seemed like a lot of villagers had similar traits and I was hoping to find a screenshot/spot her somewhere in the scenes where there are a lot of villagers. I uh....should probably do that some time haha.

And, to a lesser extent, I chose her physical traits because I wanted her to blend in. I wanted her to be unassuming physically. There's a poem by William Wordsworth called 'She dwelt among the untrodden ways' and the middle verse says:

   "A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! —Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky."

And that's kind of the vibe I was going for with Lucía. To most people she's not particularly remarkable but to the people who love her, she's special and beautiful and means the world to them.

[dreams-of-cerulean]

Having failed to drown myself with my cup of my water (and still unable to delete my posts, damn it), I’m now living the consequences of my big mouth. Aka Sasha giving me knowing looks ever so often and Sato not quite able to stay in the room with me with Sasha being the way she is.

I’m going to punch Sasha in the shoulder myself, even if my arm is sprained from what I did.

So that fight. I lost. I think. I got my eldest sis with my last hit. But only broke a couple of her ribs, which won’t hamper her fighting ability in the slightest. Drew blood only twice. 

She then nailed me underneath the chin with a kick in reply to my “suicidal” attack, which knocked me out. Given that she snapped the head of a lamppost off with a similar kick a minute earlier, I guess I should be glad I didn’t get decapitated or ended up with a broken neck. 

I did figure out something. I can use Brightly Burning in a similar manner to my sister’s body control - the weird pulsing thing she does with her muscles that maximizes the blow at the end - I can sorta mimic that with the technique, though I probably have to physically get stronger to use it properly. 

The other thing is that - I might’ve made a breakthrough in Observe without knowing it. 

Blink says in its description that it’s limited by my line of sight. But half the time I’m usually Blinking to a place that’s not actually in my line of vision. But...somehow I just know it’s an okay spot to Blink too? It’s really weird. 

[namelessmewmew]

Old Art Archive Part 1.

I want to keep this old art on this blog but not retag all the original posts, so going to do what I did for my sideblogs and delete the original posts but reupload them in batches with no tags except an archive tag. This also allows me to (even if I don't have the spoons right now, to add image descriptions to these at a later date).

Original captions under the cut.

I have like over 150 ocs that need refs/redesigns [and many in that 150 that whose design is only in my head] but I only seem to be able to make new characters right now so have this kitty! I have been thinking about tv heads alot lately but also really like kitty robots so kitty Tv Head, [They are also based a bit on a heart rate monitor, they might end up being like a walking heart monitor nurse in a hospital or something, I have alot of medical bots because I think thats cool.]

Felt like trying to give this girl digital colours and starting to figure out how this girl will be personality wise. Likely will have this girl be a graphic designer or an artist in some other regard.

The main form in the center is his preferred form, he is a from a shapeshifting species called Nederians/Nederans [not sure about that] and he is part of a group of Nederians/Nederans that theme themselves after sweets/sweet stuff.

Another guy in the same Group as Mallow [The marshmallow guy I posted earlier]. To clear possible confusion shes a guy. [Lesbians and other w|w using He/Him pronouns and Gay men and other m|m using She/Her pronouns is something that has been part of lgbt culture for quite a while!]

Just your local tired catdude [Been wanting a new icon for a while so here it is].

Vanilla + Strawberry icecream themed guy, Of course another one of the sugar group [want to come up with a better name but not sure what yet].

Orange Flavoured Soda themed guy. They are also a very bubbly dude [Yes literally as well]. I have like 3 more members of the sugar group [still need a better name] to draw some concepts for.

This guy was designed at a completely different time and originally was not meant to be part of the same group [sugar group] but decided to have them be a part of it. Instead on being based on a real food or sweet thing, they are based on a in universe food called Starbites  [Either Gum or Lollipops, haven't decided yet, that have starbust in them and are very fizzy]

I am not 100% on its colours [as well their design as a whole] but I just wanted to try to start to figure out how their design may work. It is meant to be different flavours of Gummy bears melted together.

She is meant to be based on chocolate as a whole [white, milk and dark] but She could also work as a Red Velvet or Dark Forest themed character maybe?

She is meant to be based on chocolate as a whole [white, milk and dark] but She could also work as a Red Velvet or Dark Forest themed character maybe?

Make make them into an oc, though might change their colours as its pretty monotone right now. Just a little gif and test how long it takes to make a simple piece like this with a very simple character design. 45 minutes this is based on a random game note I found on my 3DS.

Decided to change the expression and shade the main pic in her concept sheet because it did take me quite a bit to get it done [started it days ago but went into a very bleh feeling phrase again physically]. Im fairly certain Pup counts as a Sparklewolf? Might redesign their tail and add some more colourful markings idk. Love the way her colours look, its like a sunset [and dawn I think]. If the little faces on the side are confusing [I really cant tell if I properly bring the point across with just the drawings]: Top one is Pups being confused/not understanding something Middle is her not being about to concentrate and think as their are too many sources of noise [ I often have this issue ] Her fidgeting with a pop-it, its a really cool thing and has made going out for groceries something a bit less stressful.

Based on a white [and green and yellow greenish] pumpkins. I very much want to make more of these guys. Yeah I dont have much else to say, uh, I like her markings alot. My brain is veery tired so not many words.

Bunny Tv Head! With antenna ears as I just think making animal ears with tv antennas is cool. The magic electricity legs are also very bouncy [so they are also like springs].  My brain is still very tired so dont have anything of substance to say.

So Xe is a Ghost pony but Xe is also part fire? Idk might add more to this "species" if I can think of anything else. I really like xem colours. Adopted from and was originally by ItzAnnaDraws03 [on deviantart]

Very slight redesign [and first digital] concept for them.  Changed her a bit, because despite the fact I think its important to have gnc characters [including gnc transfem characters], there is also important to have well not gnc trans characters. [I dont know if I'm making sense, I guess what I'm saying yes transfem characters liking/being okay with /wanting facial hair is good but the opposite is also important and good]. Love the colours of their outfit, also I really like giving character dangly earrings.

[research604jo]

Deeper research on Mila Useche

Link to her website Link to her instagram

Website about page: "Mila Useche is a Colombian artist and film director based in Berlin. After graduating from university in 2017 with a B.A. in Illustration, she started working in video games and comics as a designer and illustrator. In 2020 she decided to start freelancing as a character designer for animation and publishing. Among several clients are Disney, DreamWorks, Nickelodeon, Scholastic, Harper Collins, and Warner Bros. Animation. Most recently, Mila’s work has shifted from client-based digital services to more personal and physical artworks."

Looking through her instagram, I saw lots of personal insights in a lot of her posts where I was able to understand her thinking and thought process as she went from character design + animation to physical paintings.

HER EARLY WORK:

Early in her instagram, you can see her diverse skill in animation. She is a character designer and scene builder working in a textured digital style that gives her artwork a very cosy, heartwarming, storybook style. She was getting commissioned by animation studios, even to make promotional art for Disney's Encanto (see above). Che did instagram "challenges" such as the "hue challenge" (see above) which is a big commitment and is mainly to drive instagram engagement but also seems to encourage many illustration styles from her. During this time she mostly did digital painting on her iPad, only ever doing studies and plans in her sketchbooks.

HER TRANSITIONAL WORK:

She had expressed that it had been years since doing something fun and expressive in her sketchbook and was very inspired on her trip to Tokyo earlier this year. She began branching out of her sketchbook, using watercolours on paper, using acrylics on canvas, eventually to pastel crayons on large paper and even having a go at some miniature sculpting of her characters. Drawing oil pastels on paper was the thing that inspired her the most, she says it brings back the feeling of drawing in her sketchbook as a child, and that the pastels allowed her more freedom to make mistakes because it's cheaper than watercolour and acrylics.

Because of her new freedom in creating her personal art instead of animation work, she also began being inspired by memories and personal experiences. Although she never fully describes the meaning or origin, you can see the concept in her art and the expression in it. Quotes from her instagram descriptions in under a few images: "Going back to traditional feels so good!" "I know it's not my usual art, but bare with me, cus I'm having so much fun"

HER CURRENT WORK: (What I'm inspired by)

She began buying larger and larger canvases, showing each peice with pride - even when she doesn't love what she has created she tells us "I'm not very happy about it (the painting), makes me a bit uncomfortable, but that always motivates me to start the next (painting)". This is such a great perspective as an artist.

"I think I will name this art movement Colobia Pop Kawaii"

Her current goals in life are to be able to afford a big, bright, well equipped studio with a view and a garden.

She expresses that her original dream when she left university was to have her art exhibited in galleries and museums and she felt as though she'd lost that dream when she moved to digital only art work. I think it's interesting that despite doing amazing digital art and working for amazing animation studios and projects, she didn't feel fulfilled. That is the dream of many artists and she was able to be honest with herself and her audience and take the leap into an entirely different art style and was able to bloom and express herself in a more truthful way.

I think a lot of creatives and artists can relate to this path and are somewhere along it. Although I'm obviously early in my artistic journey, I'd say I'm in that transitional stage at the moment where I'm looking for my true style and looking for a way to create that is truthful to myself.

[niteshade925]

Well I mean it's not quite a meme post, I just tried to make it funny. Anyways about your question, as far as Confucius is concerned, perhaps he had opponents at the time who may have smeared him, but from what I've seen, most if not all sources about him being tall or physically strong or even "ugly" were sources that agreed with Confucian thought (keep in mind that because Confucian thought was championed by the imperial court from Han dynasty and on, most of these sources that survived to modern times were sources that agreed with Confucian thought). Below are the some of the sources:

Confucius "looked ugly/intimidating/dignified":

“仲尼之状，面如蒙倛” -- 《荀子·非相》

"Zhongni's (Zhongni is Confucius's courtesy name) looks was like that of Mengqi" -- Xunzi, "Against Physiognomy" chapter

蒙倛/Mengqi was an ancient deity that was described as having an intimidating and ugly square face and a lot of messy hair, and because of this, it was called upon during the 12th month to ward off evil plague spirits. Basically it was so ugly and scary it could scare off evil, and Confucius "looked like Mengqi". This is from Xunzi, and Xunzi himself was a Confucian philosopher. However, he did mention what Confucius looked like for a reason. The chapter was named "Against Physiognomy", and true to the title, the entire chapter was about how looks can be deceiving, and how great and virtuous people can look ugly while people who are vile can look handsome. While most of the looks of different people he described are probably hearsay, I do think most of it are at least somewhat accurate, because taking Confucius as an example, if he was indeed handsome, would his followers not call him "handsome"? Why would people who supported his school of thought compare him to Mengqi if he didn't at least look a little...."ugly"?

According to other rumors at the time that was passed down through the ages, Confucius had "seven exposed (features)"/七露 or "seven ugly (features)"/七陋, and they are "(too much) exposed eye whites, protruding ears, exposed nostrils, and protruding teeth" (双眼露白，双鼻露孔，双耳露轮，嘴露齿). There was even a legend (this is a legend for sure lol) that said because Confucius looked so hideous even as a newborn, his mother thought she had birthed a monster, so she abandoned him in a cave, but a few days later her heart softened and she went back to see if he was still alive, and found him being cared for by eagles and tigers (basically the idea that the world wants him to live and he was destined to become a great person), so she took him back home and cared for him.

Sources like 《史记》/Records of the Grand Historian said he apparently also had a "dent" on top of his head ("生而首上圩顶，故因名曰丘云"). However some people have doubted this description, and proposed that maybe he looked like he had a dent on his head simply because of his large forehead.

There are other sources that vaguely described his looks as "indicative of greatness" by comparing him to ancient virtuous figures such as Yellow Emperor/黄帝 (these are legendary figures or at least real people who were heavily mythicized, as there are modern theories that propose these ancient figures as leaders of ancient tribes), but all of the earlier and more detailed descriptions all tend towards Confucius looking at least somewhat "special" (read: different from your average person) and unattractive. Some of them may be exaggerations, and I will get to the why at the end.

Confucius's strength and athletic prowess:

“孔子之劲，举国门之关，而不肯以力闻。” -- 《吕氏春秋》

"Confucius's strength could raise the bolt to the gates of the country, and yet he did not want to be known for his strength." -- Lüshi Chunqiu (I did try to simplify this by making it him opening the city gates, but if the bolt is lifted the gates are basically unlocked anyway)

For reference the gates of ancient Linzi of the state of Qi during the Warring States period are at least 8.2 meters wide (27 ft; can reach up to almost 20m or 65 ft; this is from modern archaeological excavations done on ancient Linzi), so the wooden bolt is at least a couple of meters long, made of solid wood, and strong enough to withstand at least a couple of hits from a battering ram during war time. Imagine how heavy that bolt would be.

“孔子射于矍相之圃，盖观者如堵墙。” -- 《礼记·射义》

"When Confucius participated in archery at Juexiang, the spectators formed a wall." -- Book of Rites, "Meaning of the Ceremony of Archery" chapter

This is ceremonial archery, but it is also a qualifying test. Only those whose arrows can find their mark may participate in the subsequent ceremonies. (“射中者得与于祭；不中者不得与于祭”)

Confucius's height and build:

Here's where there are a bunch of conflicting information, but even the shortest one says he's over 180 cm, or about 6 ft tall (this is from a description of Confucius on the screen divider found inside the tomb of Marquis of Haihun). By contrast the tallest one say he's about 220 cm, or over 7 ft ("孔子长九尺有六寸，人皆谓之'长人'而异之"). Other texts that don't mention a specific height simply say he's "tall". Back during the Spring and Autumn Warring States period, the average height of most men are from 160-170 cm, or around 5 ft 3 in, so for them, even a 6ft tall person would be pretty tall.

There are other sources (including, but are not limited to, visual ones such as artifacts from Han dynasty) that indicate he had a long torso but short legs, and had a noticeable hunch.

Now onto the credibility of these sources. First, we may never know for sure what he really looked like, because there are no direct evidence pointing to any of that, and it's been 2500 years. As such, we can only go off of these textual sources from close to that time period, many of which are from Han dynasty, and as @fouryearsofshades pointed out, Confucianism gained a lot of popularity during Western Han dynasty. The reason is mainly because of the Emperor Wu of Han adopting Confucian values as the official philosophical guidelines for the country, and later dynasties followed suit, all the way to the end of Qing dynasty. So in light of that, some of the sources may have exaggerated some of his physical characteristics, though I didn't present many of those here. For example, the description of Confucius having a "dent" on the top of his head came from Records of the Grand Historian (written in Western Han dynasty by Sima Qian) might be one of these exaggerations (same text also mentioned Confucius being 7 ft tall). The idea was that "because Confucius was a great person, therefore he must also look different from others", and that "difference" can be anywhere from looking "ugly" to having what we know today to be physical deformities. (Although Sima Qian didn't agree with Emperor Wu of Han on many things, and this is hidden throughout his work, Sima Qian himself did favor Confucianism) However, we may never know which ones of these sources were exaggerations for sure. The only fact that remains is that all available sources today point to a Confucius who was pretty tall by ancient standards (even if he's 6ft, he's still taller than the average height today.........and certainly taller than me lol), who was rather strong (can draw a bow, can lift what amounts to a tree trunk that's 2 to 3-stories tall), and who didn't look very attractive. I do think this is a credible rough idea of Confucius's physical characteristics.

Finally, idk if you can read this, but here's a very nice article (this link goes to a pdf btw) from the Palace Museum on the composition of paintings of Confucius and how they have changed through history.

The Confucius in your imagination:

The Confucius in ancient texts:

Not joking btw.

According to ancient texts from that time, Confucius was almost as tall as Yao Ming, and so strong he could push open a city gate barehanded, all by himself. Dude was also a skilled archer and carriage driver.

Imagine a dude that tall and big talking to you about his philosophy lol

[thatdisasterauthor]

Some snippets from my book that I’m sharing on Patreon

The Pits is an adult fantasy adventure western, and I’m sharing the ENTIRE process of writing the book over on my Patreon. The link is in my pinned post.

When Clarabella's girlfriend goes missing, she searches out the only person who can help: her outlaw older sibling Royal, who knows more about the strange magic around them than anyone. Magic Clarabella doesn't believe in.

Want to know a little more about the book? Here's some (unedited) teaser snippets:

------------

Royal was a person and a problem, and that’s about where all useful description of my eldest sibling ended. I’d been attempting to track them down for over a week now and in that time I’d learned three things: one, according to the wanted posters, Royal had about a dozen colorful pseudonyms including “The Coyote of the Cliffs” and “The Black Pit Bandit.” Two, no matter their other crimes, whatever town they’d last been in tended to also have a stray report of books going missing. Three, any sort of physical description got me nowhere when I questioned people. Royal was too good at shifting their appearance for that, just as likely to be described as a lanky man in dirty black clothes as they were a demure young woman in a lovely dress. There were, in fact, at least three wanted posters I suspected to be Royal, though it was hard to say what was a resemblance and what was a quirk of the artist responsible for the portrait.

------------

“So, what did you think of your first day as an outlaw?” Shiloh asked with his usual grin.

Royal snorted under their hat.

I thought of what Daiyu said earlier about my novel, and what Royal said to me the night before. “Honestly, not quite what I expected.”

“How so?” Akhíta asked. She was recapping several of her dreadlocks with what I now realized were bullet casings. It seemed like a very dramatic aesthetic, outlaw or not.

“It’s the lack of robberies, isn’t it?” Shiloh asked. “We can go hold up something in town if you like.”

“No,” Royal said, voice deadpan.

------------

Royal nudged me and I looked back up. No longer was there an empty expanse of meadow backed by forest. A dozen women were standing there, all silent. They all had lengths of fluttering, gauzy black fabric over their heads, tied loosely around their necks to create a rippling bubble of fabric that obscured their features. The ends cascaded down, hanging in tatters to their ankles. They wore no other clothing underneath, and the thin fabric hid nothing of their forms.

Their eyes were white. Not their irises, not their pupils, for they had neither, but just white. Nothing but sclera. And yet, I somehow knew they could see me. I could feel their gaze raking over my skin, flaying it from my bones as they judged me.

At the center of the group, one woman stood out. She did not have gauze over her head. She did not, in fact, have anything resembling clothes at all. But she was covered. The only description I could think to put to it was that the woman seemed to be covered by clouds of ink, rippling and billowing as if it had been dripped in water even though she was not in water. It swirled over her skin, slid down her waist, thinned and thickened as it moved. Only rarely did it allow an unobscured glance of skin, of face. Unlike the others, her eyes were solid gold and she had no hair at all.

------------

One by one the coyotes peeled off, rising up to the top of the cliffs and vanishing from view over the top, until there was only one left. It was silent and watching us from just above the waterline as we drifted closer. I heard someone shifting, relatively sure it was Royal. Some deep seated sibling instinct told me they were about to do something stupid. Reaching out, I attempted to grab a fistful of their shirt only to find empty air where I expected them to be.

“Hello?” Royal called.

Akhíta, Shiloh, and I all made noises of protest.

The last coyote, now just ahead, grinned. I shouldn’t have been able to see it grin, except that its mouth was full of shimmering blue light, flickering behind its fangs.

[sundere1181]

Snake Hair Lady OC headcanons time!!!!

I decided that she's a Mojave rattlesnake, and therefore a lot of her personality was based off that.

her name is Maia (yes, it's Greek, I wanted a Greek name because yk Medusa inspired)

She/her demisexual lesbian

She has anger issues and is VERY easily startled

Meat Eater

16 years old

(more hc and physical description under the cut i dont want it to get too long)

Physical desc (because I cannot draw):

She's about 6'7" tall, the snakes on her head are the tails because rattlez and they go to about mid neck. They're multiple shades of brown with diamond patterns and white bands. She really likes them and thinks they're super pretty (they are)

Yes, she has fangs AND venom, which is very very dangerous and she constantly has nightmares about biting one of her friends on accident.

She has brown human skin with occasional patches of snake scales (like vitiligo)

Vertical snake eyes, very good eyesight.

Shitty hearing, not to the point where she needs hearing aids, but to the point everyone speaks louder than normal around her.

If you didn’t see my post earlier, some anatomy notes: Shes a rare yokai species that I have yet to name that are basically snake human hybrids. other than the snake hair, fangs, snake scale patches, and eyes, they look fairly human, but their bones are more fragile. Their torsos are also elongated and have a small sternum. They’re freakishly tall and slender, and very flexible. They have two jaws that split in the middle and multiple tiny sharp teeth along with the fangs. (I did lots of snake anatomy research for this like it’s insane)

other hc:

BFFs with Leo, gay and lesbian solidarity fr

Met him at a hidden city pride parade

they hung out a lot and then he introduced her to his brothers

She's taller than Raph and he's honestly a bit scared of her

Almost bit Mikey once when he snuck up on her (unknowingly) and nearly got shot by Donnie. She felt really bad.

Her and Donnie don't honestly get along very well unless they're committing crimes together.

Her, April, and Sunita have a ‘spa day’ every Sunday where they paint each others nails and do skincare and watch bad movies. occasionally Leo or Mikey join them.

Sleeps like the dead. It takes a nuclear bomb to wake her. Yes, Leo did draw on her face one time. Yes, he did regret it. (An absolutely brutal prank war ensued)

Has a younger sister and an older sibling (middle child)

[grennseyelashes]

Don't apologise for adding a long reblog :) happens to the best of us, as ur about to see (although I'll stick this one under a readmore or the posts gonna get ridiculous lol)

I'm not sure where the description of Jaime and Ilyn's interactions as casual and light-hearted "back-and-forth" comes from, as despite spending weeks with the guy Jaime never learns a single thing about him, and the only times Ilyn laughs (at least that I remember/could see on a quick check) are very much at Jaime's expense when he's blatantly lying to himself about things. And Jaime notably doesn't like it, and this never changes.

We will dance again," he promised Ser Ilyn. "On the morrow, and the morrow. Every day we'll dance, till I am as good with my left hand as ever I was with the right."

Ser Ilyn opened his mouth and made a clacking sound. A laugh, Jaime realized. Something twisted in his gut.

The whole thing certainly gets a bit sexual later on, which is a lot of fun, but homoeroticism aside this scene recalls some very interesting things.

For a little while Jaime had the better of it. Perhaps his old skill was coming back, he allowed himself to think. Perhaps tonight it would be Payne who went to sleep bruised and bloody.

It was as if Ser Ilyn heard his thoughts. He parried Jaime's last cut lazily and launched a counterattack that drove Jaime back into the river, where his boot slipped out from under him in the mud. He ended on his knees, with the silent knight's sword at his throat and his own lost in the reeds. In the moonlight the pockmarks on Payne's face were large as craters. He made that clacking sound that might have been a laugh and drew his sword up Jaime's throat till the point came to rest between his lips. Only then did he step back and sheathe his steel.

I would have done better to challenge Raff the Sweetling, with a whore upon my back, Jaime thought as he shook mud off his gilded hand. Part of him wanted to tear the thing off and fling it in the river. It was good for nothing, and the left was not much better.

Definitely a win for yaoi fans (yay <3), but also an interesting move from someone who had his own tongue cut out, and in that moment has defeated Jaime and could, if he felt like it, show Jaime what that's actually like. Which might actually do him some good, seeing as our very first introduction to Jaime is him controlling Cersei's speech on behalf of the King.

The queen had begun to protest. They had been riding since dawn, everyone was tired and cold, surely they should refresh themselves first. The dead would wait. She had said no more than that; Robert had looked at her, and her twin brother Jaime had taken her quietly by the arm, and she had said no more

Which is (checks notes) exactly what happened to Ilyn himself, only in a more permanent way. And Jaime's total disregard for what Cersei has to say is a constant throughout the books, no matter how important it genuinely is, preferring to call her insane and insist they have sex, including a scene where he rapes her in the sept next to the corpse of their son, despite her spoken protests and physically fighting him to get him to stop, ultimately forcing her to try and get him to just finish quickly as she always had to do when she couldn't stop Robert either.

It's also interesting that after this Jaime reflects he would have done better to challenge Raff, one of the Mountains viciously violent men, (and who has probably raped Pia, the woman Jaime "gives" to his 15yr old squire to to symbolically cuck Lancel in his bed on his behalf, seeing as, like the one sole rapist Jaime does execute points out, the other 99 of them had also raped her), and who he bet on earlier when he was having a chicken fight in the river. When he's on the ground he (presumably sarcastically) thinks fighting Raff the rapist would have been better, "with a whore on his back", which is some interesting imagery seeing as Jaime "I only rescue maidens" Lannister has a lifelong history of ensuring women he thinks are "whores" (or just "basically whores", such as Tysha) are raped.

Cersei can't get Jaime to listen to her, and isn't physically strong enough to stop him doing whatever he wants, but Ilyn is. But as far as Jaime understands it, Ilyn is his man (as Cersei is either "his" woman, or a "whore" and adjacent to The Stranger, not a woman at all), and so there's no need to concern himself with why they might do anything they do, only on how it makes him feel. And so he never bothers to get to know him at all. And why should he! He's just there to help him retrain at sword-fighting so he can go back to the way things were before he did the one good thing he's ever done on purpose (preventing Brienne from being raped by the Brave Companions), and lost the hand he used to push Bran out of a window for it (interesting that, as traumatic as that was, it also took him out of the running for being "the valonquar", unless he finds another way). Ilyn is his servant and there to make him like the Warrior again (because who would ever want to become like the Smith or the Father or something pathetic like that...), plus one other thing...

That night he and Ser Ilyn fought for three hours. It was one of his better nights. If they had been in earnest, Payne only would have killed him twice. Half a dozen deaths were more the rule, and some nights were worse than that. "If I keep at this for another year, I may be as good as Peck," Jaime declared, and Ser Ilyn made that clacking sound that meant he was amused. "Come, let's drink some more of Hoster Tully's good red wine."

Wine had become a part of their nightly ritual. Ser Ilyn made the perfect drinking companion. He never interrupted, never disagreed, never complained or asked for favors or told long pointless stories. All he did was drink and listen.

“I should have the tongues removed from all my friends,” said Jaime as he filled their cups, “and from my kin as well. A silent Cersei would be sweet. Though I’d miss her tongue when we kissed.” He drank. The wine was a deep red, sweet and heavy. It warmed him going down. “I can’t remember when we first began to kiss. It was innocent at first. Until it wasn’t.” He finished the wine and set his cup aside. “Tyrion once told me that most whores will not kiss you. They’ll fuck you blind, he said, but you’ll never feel their lips on yours. Do you think my sister kisses Kettleblack?

”Ser Ilyn did not answer.

“I don’t think it would be proper for me to slay mine own Sworn Brother. What I need to do is geld him and send him to the Wall. That’s what they did with Lucamore the Lusty. Ser Osmund may not take kindly to the gelding, to be sure. And there are his brothers to consider. Brothers can be dangerous. After Aegon the Unworthy put Ser Terrence Toyne to death for sleeping with his mistress, Toyne’s brothers did their best to kill him. Their best was not quite good enough, thanks to the Dragonknight, but it was not for want of trying. It’s written down in the White Book. All of it, save what to do with Cersei.”

Ser Ilyn drew a finger across his throat.

“No,” said Jaime. “Tommen has lost a brother, and the man he thought of as his father. If I [<-Jaime himself] were to kill his mother, he would hate me for it... and that sweet little wife of his would find a way to turn that hatred to the benefit of Highgarden.”

Ser Ilyn smiled in a way Jaime did not like. An ugly smile. An ugly soul. “You talk too much,” he told the man.

The conclusion of all of Jaime's "confessions" about how much Cersei has wronged him, after making an absurdly cruel joke about how people having their tongues ripped out is good actually, is him eventually just baiting Ilyn into suggesting he kill Cersei, and then pointing out that he can't do it himself. Which, given Ilyn's literal job, is essentially just a plausibly deniable request that Ilyn do it for him. We never see him interact with Ilyn again after this, and why would we—he got his point across.

All of which may actually point more towards Ilyn finding Jaime quite pathetic when it comes down to it, which would be very reasonable, because he is.

And although it doesn't tell us anything about how Ilyn may feel about Cersei herself, it's certainly interesting (due to the way different parts of the story often inform one another) that this is the very same book that introduces Areo Hotah, a character who does what he's is ordered to, and exists in the background of the family he works for, but nevertheless has huge affection for them, despite their flaws, through simply paying attention, and having basic human empathy. Kinda makes you wonder if that situation will eventually come in to play elsewhere too.

Also, just as an aside really as you mentioned it, Cersei and Taena's relationship is much more complicated than just stroking Cersei's ego. One small example:

"I know the inn where the Blue Bard plays when he is not singing attendance on the little queen, and a certain cellar where a conjurer turns lead into gold, water into wine, and girls into boys. Perhaps he would work his spells on the two of us. Would it amuse Your Grace to be a man one night?" If I were a man I would be Jaime, the queen thought. If I were a man I could rule this realm in my own name in place of Tommen's. "Only if you remained a woman," she said, knowing that was what Taena wanted to hear.

Also, important to remember that Cersei never orders Taena to bring her son to court (and so put Taena in the same position as she's been in since her first child was born, with her son at risk and able to be used as leverage), despite that being well within her power and certainly the single most important thing she could do to ensure Taena's extremely dubious loyalty. She only asks, and never forces her to bring him, despite it being important on many levels.

Plus, as I've speculated before, we may have another thing coming irt the mystery of what happened to Melara

Noticed Ilyn and Cersei both seem to share the traits of never being listened to, and extreme loyalty to Tywin that's cost them a LOT, and after the regime change got them trapped in the Red Keep, which neither of them enjoy at all. Cersei even trusted Ilyn to execute her, rather than face the sack of King's Landing. And although she never put up much of a fight to stop Jaime taking him to the Riverlands... That's actually Jaime's fault, according to him at least.

As King’s Justice, the dungeons were his responsibility. Since he lacked a tongue, Payne had largely left the running of those dungeons to his underlings, but Cersei held him to blame for Tyrion’s escape all the same. It was my work, not his, Jaime almost told her.

Cersei actually consistently backs Ilyn when people are being rude as hell about him

The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. “Ofttimes Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect.” “As well he should.” The queen had descended from the wheelhouse. The spectators parted to make way for her. “If the wicked do not fear the Mng’s Justice, you have put the wrong man in the office.” Sansa finally found her words. “Then surely you have chosen the right one, Your Grace,” she said, and a gale of laughter erupted all around her.

[...]

“Ser Ilyn has not been feeling talkative these past fourteen years,” Lord Renly commented with a sly smile. Joffrey gave his uncle a look of pure loathing, then took Sansa’s hands in his own. “Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers.” “He speaks most eloquently with his sword, however,” the queen said, “and his devotion to our realm is unquestioned.”

So what I'm wondering is:

[superphantom]

Enthralled with the idea of Danny from Danny legit dies and has a physical corpse but can still kinda be human au and the Winchesters from just regular canon bumping into each other while... hiding bodies.

Three teens carrying a fourth by his arms and legs into the woods. Would they even be able to tell that it’s Danny’s corpse? It’s gotta be pretty much cooked through at that point. Hold on, I’m going to write something rq, apologies for any mistakes/bad writing but the concept is just too fun. If you think so too, go ahead and try your hand at it, this has so many excellent interpretations.

Edit but not really cuz I haven’t actually posted anything yet: I’ve only read back through this once but I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out, just wanted to add a quick warning for horrific death and descriptions of a corpse and all that. 

--

Digging graves always sucked, naturally. It’s hard to plow through a good six feet of rocks and dirt and bones and whatever other crap might be waiting below the surface (one time, in some backwoods in Ohio they’d hit a bathtub around three feet down. Never got an explanation for that one). But, of course, the muggy pits of July made things much worse.

Sam had shed his top layer in the car, and was now down to a single shirt. He probably would’ve taken that off too, had it not been glued onto his back from sweat. Dean, who’d made a dig at Sam earlier that night for not being able to “take the heat like a man” still wore his flannel over his shirt, though it was beginning to soak through.

Laborious elements aside, what really made grave digging so tedious was the inability to fill it with anything else. It wasn’t like they could play music or anything, when they were in graveyards they had to keep a low profile, and all the other smart places to go hiding a corpse don’t get radio reception. And talking? With the amount of dust and dirt they kicked up, not to mention the work itself, it was more like trying to reason with a bully as they threw sand in your face. Gritty, painful, and overall, not worth it. So the brothers dug side by side with only light from a half-dead camping lantern and the singing of insects to keep them company.

Sam hit a rock with the tip of his shovel to knock it loose from the wall, the scooped it up and heaved it over the side of the grave. It was still only about knee height, meaning they’d have to put in another two hours minimum if they wanted to get the man hidden.

He’d been working with a witch to dodge death as he cheated his way through some shady business dealings. Actually, he’d been fairly easy to subdue- probably why he needed the witch in the first place- but once Dean had yanked the hexbag from where it hung around his stick-figure neck he’d begun to convulse and when he stopped, well, he wasn’t going to start convulsing again. That, however, was a problem for tomorrow.

Sam knocked a few rocks loose this time, letting them pile around his feet then launching them all over his shoulder at once. With the sound of metal clacking against rock gone, he realized Dean had stopped digging and was leaning against the handle of his shovel cautiously looking out into the woods. Sam moved in next to him and tried to figure out where he was looking.

“What are y-“ he asked. Dean shushed him before he could finish, then signaled for him to listen and pointed just past a thick bramble, to a gap between two trees. It would’ve been impossible to spot without years of hunting experience, out about 100 yards away were little moving. They weren’t even shadows, it was simply just movement in the dark. “Dude-“

Dean shushed him again, and shot him a dirty look before pointing more forcefully in the direction of the movement and focusing back in place. He gestured once again for Sam to listen. For a few moments they stood in silence, barely breathing. It was faint, but Sam began to make out what was unmistakably English. a dull beam of light swung around towards them then went back to facing the other direction, effectively re-blacking out the figures. Sam reached back, not taking his eyes off the movement, and now occasional glimpses of light, and snapped off the lantern.

It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Once they could see each other again, Dean tilted his head to the left, pointed a few times with two fingers in a two directions then held one finger against his mouth. Sam nodded and they both began creeping in opposite directions with the intention of surrounding who or what was having a chat out in the woods at night.

Sam moved as if he were gliding above the forest floor. He could vaguely make out Dean doing the same, though he was now could see Dean about as well as he’d been able to see the... three? He hovered further. Definitely three people (or, by his guess witches), earlier. Now that he was getting closer, though, he began to take note of a few things.

There were three short witches(?) standing fanned out around something slumped on the forest floor, their dying halogen flashlight held limp in one of their hands, flickering sadly. The witch farthest from flashlight-witch and closest to Sam held a shovel, though didn’t make any moves to use it. None of them moved, they all just stood there and stared at whatever was at their feet.

He signaled to Dean that he was going to go in from the front. He was pretty sure he saw the shadows nod to him, so he took that as an okay. Like a mouse on cotton, he positioned himself just far enough into the forest that they couldn’t quite see, Dean doing the same but behind them.

“I- What do we do?” the one holding the flashlight muttered. His nose was awfully clogged, it sounded like he’d been crying.

“I don’t know, Tuck.” The one holding the shovel answered. She also sounded upset, but more like she was doing everything she could to push back tears, a tone that Sam knew very well. “Danny, are you sure you wanna do this?”

The one in the middle, Danny, shook his head. Each of his arms reached across his middle, like he was trying to hug himself, or maybe more like he was trying to make himself look small, trying to hide. “I-“ his voice cracked and he let out a few sobs. The leaves and sticks made a simultaneous crack as he fell down onto his knees, folding over himself and shaking with pure, cutting sorrow.

Flashlight, or Tuck apparently, and Shovel got down beside him, hugging him from either side. They held one another and sobbed, one of them, Shovel, creaking out some pained “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”’s between wordless wails. From the looks of them, they couldn’t be more than 12 years old. Or maybe they could, Sam wasn’t a pediatrician. They were undoubtedly much too young to be in the middle of nowhere, all alone in a fragile mental state doing who-knows-what.

Sam looked to Dean then gestured with his head to let him know he was going to talk to the kids. Dean shook his head and violently gestured with his gun at the kids. Wait. Not /at/ the kids, beyond them. He’d neglected studying the white-wrapped body in front of them. That explained the tears. He couldn’t help but feel for them, even though for all he knew they’d just murdered someone in cold blood. He looked back to Dean and nodded, then signaled again.

Keeping his gun at the ready, but tucking it behind his back he slowly and deliberately stepped out of the trees, intentionally making noise so they’d see him coming. Tuck looked up with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Danny and Shovel tensed but didn’t further acknowledge him.

“Um, hey,” he said, trying his best for nonthreatening and landing at the border of creepy and awkward. “Are you guys good?”

Tuck’s eyes flooded with tears, but he got up on shaky legs, trying to pull Danny and Shovel up with him. They weakly joined him, leaning against one another for support. Despite the warm night, all three were trembling.

“I’m, uh, I’m not here to hurt you,” Sam started, not really sure where he was going with this, “I’m Sam Winchester, what are your names?”

Tuck gave him the same watery stare he’d had the whole time, like Sam was the saddest thing he’d ever seen. Shovel looked up next, she was more angry. Maybe her smeared and ruined makeup should’ve made her look silly, but all it did was add to the aggression she exuded. He could see her squeezing both her friend’s shoulders and tugging them very slightly to the left, wordlessly signaling- or at least trying to- an escape plan. Sam pretended not to notice.

“I just wanna know what happened here,” he inched his way towards the corpse. As he got closer he could smell burnt hair and flesh, another thing he was all too familiar with. He didn’t break eye contact as he squatted down and gently pulled the sheet back from a tuft of what he assumed was hair.

He bit the inside of his cheek upon seeing the boy. Fried was the only word that could describe him. His mouth hung open, as did his eyes- or at least, what was left of them. Ooze had dribbled from every orifice and re-solidified in horrible mauve blobs. His hair was barely more than a charred mess, his skin was peeling and bubbled in places, and so discolored Sam could barely make out the dusting of freckles across his nose. This was a death in agony if he’d ever seen one.

He folded the cloth back over the boy’s head and straightened up, pulling the gun from where it had waited behind his back.

“Alright,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna need some answers.”

Danny looked up, letting Sam properly see his face for the first time. His red-rimmed eyes widened at the sight of the gun, lips tightening into a thin line. It was a look of fear and resignation. He ran the back of his hand across his nose. Sam noticed a dusting of freckles on it. He looked to the sheet and then back to Danny, then checked once more.

“What the hell is going on here.” Sympathy gone, Sam allowed himself to posture intimidatingly. Whatever freaks these- these- these... freaks! were, they weren’t about to get away with cooking some kid alive. “Talk.”

The “or I’ll shoot” was silent, but understood. Danny cleared his throat, one hand rubbed nervously on the back of his neck.

“It- I-“ he stuttered, then in a barely audible trembling voice he said, “I, uh, I think I’m dead.”