#but the “function” of ties are their symbolism. it's a sign that the man is a professional and/or

[the-rad-menace]

Ties are such a weirdly archaic garment. Like, in the 1600s men started wearing a silly little scarf in the form of a cravat and never looked back.

[itstimetotheorize]

Little Nightmares 2 Foreshadowed in Very Little Nightmares?...or something worse...

Of all the secret rooms to be uncovered within Very Little Nightmares, there has always been one room which has garnered a lot of attention and question, it’s the room where we find  the broken eggs and a single functioning tv hanging from the pipes, above a single baby bird. For the longest time, many theorists and I couldn’t help but wonder what this room in particular had to say about the lore of the Nest.

by analyzing the room we see the following:

-broken eggs with the yolks spilled out

-a  functioning tv

-a single living baby bird standing underneath a T.V. ,which is suspended from a rope tied around a pipe. The rope around the tv is dangerously close to breaking it’s last thread, dooming the baby bird to be crushed the moment the T.V. falls on it.

-wallpaper depicting eyes all around the room

-a single dead adult pigeon

-numerous locks on the door

-a secret passage leading into and out of the room through the vents

    At fist, it was believed this room was meant to be some sort of foreshadowing for Little Nightmares 2 as the room presented eerily similar characteristics to the room the Thin Man was trapped in within the Black Tower. The T.V. emits a blue/purple glow similar to the towers hypnotic transmission, but then again...all the T.V.s are like this. The walls are lined with eyes similarly to the flesh eyes which hide behind the walls of the tower, but then again... it’s not uncommon to see the walls lined with eyes, we see them all over the place in the Maw, the Nest and the Pale City, either as wallpaper or drawings, it was as if they were set as a reminder of the eye entities constant watch, presence and influence over the residents of the world .

     Many theorized the dead older pigeon might have symbolized the Thin Man and his final fate, while the baby bird was left to represent Mono as the now younger inhabitant of the room. However, there was always one little detail about the room which made I, and many theorists, question everything...the door. The door is locked, except, upon closer inspection, we realized...it was locked from the inside. 

      Now, what does this mean exactly? it means there was once someone who inhabited the room, someone who could leave if they wanted, which did not fit into the lore of the Thin Man as we analyzed the Thin Man as a prisoner within the Black Tower, leaving Mono as the only person capable of opening the door from the outside in order to set the Thin Man free.

    But if the room in the Nest was not meant to represent the Thin Man inhabiting the Tower, then could this potentially mean there was another inhabitant of the Nest within this isolated room?...maybe, but if so, then...where did they go? and what was this room to them?....unless....what if this room was no ordinary room...what if it always had a simple purpose, we just couldn’t see it at first

     Whoever resided in this room was someone who had the capability and paranoia to lock themselves inside such a small space on purpose. Based on how isolated the room is, as well as the series of locks which can only be accessible from the inside, its almost as if this room was... a safe house/panic room inhabited by a resident of the Nest. However, knowing what we know now about the world and the eye entity we theorized is responsible for it’s ongoing downfall (more here), it would appear as though the inhabitant of this room might not have been able to obtain the safety they wanted.

   We have always theorized the people of this world felt the effects of the eye entities influence corrupting their minds in a slow and ongoing process. The first sign of its hold on a person was theorized to be depicted by the persons sudden and unknowing desire to draw or incorporate eyes within every inch of their surroundings. In this case, the inhabitant of the room might have had the sudden desire to incorporate eyes onto the rooms’ walls as they felt the eye entities influence corrupting them.

However, considering the locks within this room are still attached to the door and locked in place, it’s almost as if the room was set up to tell us something happened to the inhabitant, while they were still in the room, but what?, unless...what if the room already gave us an answer? 

       Upon closer inspection, many theorists and I began to realize the peculiar presence of the single T.V. within the room, now, what was so bizarre about it? Well, this T.V., which was dangling from a pipe on the celling...was not plugged into any electrical source...so then, how was it able to stay in power?

And of all the things which could be in this room, why was there a  T.V. dangling from such an obscure location?...then again... we have seen this kind of thing before, all over the Pale City. When we traveled through the Pale City in Little Nightmares 2, the one thing many of us took note of was the various TVs in obscure places. We saw TVs hanging from the edge of balconies, clothes lines, through multiple broken floors within a building etc., but the most bizarre thing noted about these TVs, was how many of them were not plugged into any electrical source, yet they still remained in power. 

      Based on the bizarre locations of some electrical cords, such as the one in a viewers apartment which extended from underneath the toilet to the electrical outlet on the wall, and upon discovering the T.V. in the apartment had short circuited the moment the Viewer touched the electrocuted water, we had theorized the Pale City harbored abnormal T.V.’s which were not only capable of extending their electrical cords to the nearest source of power, but remain in power no matter where they were located.  

As for how these obscure T.V.’s came to be, well, we've always theorized the T.V.’s within the Pale City were being produced by the one thing which connected all the chaos seen throughout the Pale City...the Black Tower(aka, the part of the eye entity which manifested in the pale city, more here), all of which was theorized to be for the simple desire of expanding it’s reach to obtain more and more victims.

            As the tower strengthened, we had realized there eventually came a time when inhabitants of the city could no longer escape the hypnotic transmission by simply removing and destroying the T.V.’s in their homes, because as the towers strength peeked, so did the threat of the T.V.’s. At some point within the Pale City, the T.V.’s began to appear anywhere and everywhere, wherever a living being could be, even as far as the Hunter’s vast empty wood fields.... and maybe even... farther than that. These T.V.’s scattered all around, may not have just remained in power by some functioning electrical source, but by the one thing which connected all of them, the very thing which manifested them in the first place, the Tower itself.

    Where am I going with this?, well, if the Tower was responsible for the manifestation of the many T.V.’s in the Pale City, if it is truly able to extend its reach to manifest even more T.V.’s in places as far as the woods, then,...who knows how much farther the tower was able to manifest its televisions as its transmission continued to broadcast farther beyond the city...maybe even...as far as the Nest? 

      We have always theorized the Nest was within distance of the Pale City, hence why a child like Six could have survived a journey overseas the moment she boarded the plank of wood at the bottom of the mountain (near the end of Very Little Nightmares), repurposing it as a small raft . If the Nest was not to far from the Pale City, then this meant it could still more or less receive the transmission the tower was broadcasting.  

   How do we know for sure it was?, well...In the Nest’s playroom, there was a drawing of a tall man wearing a hat, this drawing could have been of anyone, the Pretenders caretaker, their father, someone else she knew?...or maybe it was of someone she saw, not in person...but through the T.V.’s. 

Was the drawing we saw in the playroom...a drawing of the Thin Man?...honestly who’s to say...then again... if Mono had already defeated the former resident of the black tower around this time(more here), and if he had truly been forced to repeat his loop a number of times long before meeting Six(more here and here), then maybe...just maybe...his all to familiar silhouette we all saw walking out of the T.V., back in Little Nightmares 2, may not have been just for our viewing pleasure, in other words... who’s to say his silhouette wasn’t broadcasted throughout all the T.V.’s each and every time he escaped the tower and/or traveled through the T.V.’s. 

We know one of the Pretenders activities is watching the numerous T.V.’s in her T.V. room, but with all the T.V.’s in the Nest displaying the same static noise, who knows what more she saw through the screen....and who knows what more the transmission could have done by reaching out to places as far as the Nest.

  Perhaps it wasn’t all to strange to find a single T.V. dangling from a pipe within that bizaar room of the Nest,...because what if it had to be a T.V. ... because unlike everything else in the Nest, it was a T.V which had the capability of appearing anywhere and everywhere... providing the transmission through its screen, trapping anyone who gazed upon it, including whomever resided in the room. 

(pause for break)

    But if the Nest was truly receiving the towers broadcast, then could it be the T.V. we saw in this secret room, simply appeared the moment it’s inhabitant decided to isolate themselves from the rest of the Nest?...maybe. 

       If the T.V. had truly appeared in the room and began to warp the inhabitants mind just as it had done to many others within the Pale City(and around the world) through the transmission, then one can only imagine the events which transpired as this person slowly, but surely, began to lose their sanity and their connection to reality, until finally...  they became lost, fueled by whatever corrupt desire/base instinct they latched onto, evidently becoming another Viewer or Resident of “the eye entities” world, the only question is...what did they become in the end?

   Residents of the world, like the Teacher, the Chefs, the Doctor, the Lady etc. may move about on whatever desire/base instinct that fuels them blindly throughout the world, but they are still able to function enough to not leave themselves trapped in a room, they can traverse throughout whatever building or location they are in. No, based on the various cracked eggs and dead pigeon, its almost as if there was a very sudden, and very major struggle.

       Now, if the inhabitant of this secret room had truly been ensnared by the transmission, if they had instead become a Viewer, then... why weren't there any clothes or items left behind in the room? what am I talking about? well, we have always theorized the Viewers bodies were sucked into the T.V.’s, the only thing left of them were the clothes they once wore, in the exact spot they once stood. 

However, there were no clothes in the secret room, so what could have happened to the inhabitant of the room if they became a Viewer?...unless...what if “the girl in the yellow raincoat” already gave us an answer. 

         When a Viewer is entranced by the transmission, they do not feel compelled to move away from the screen, they just stand there, hypnotized and pacified by the wonderful word it offers them, leaving their true surroundings to remain untouched and wither away. If anything dared interrupt their focus on the T.V.’s, they would face the Viewers wrath....but what would happen if there was nothing to watch? Every single T.V. seen throughout the Nest, does not display any form of content, its all just a bunch of staticky white noise...but that’s exactly it isn’t it...there was just nothing to watch, and if there was no content, then this would mean the transmission was struggling to broadcast to all the T.V.’s, which would essentially give way to the same situation surrounding the Viewers in the Pale City.

    What am I talking about? well, in the Pale City, we discover many Viewers are able to act berserk if there is no functioning T.V. nearby. One Viewer who fell through the roof, smashed their head in the nearby T.V., however, this T.V. was not in power and did not provide the transmission to pacify the Viewer in order to prevent them from smashing their head through the screen.

 The Viewers who pursued Mono in the grocery store, were discovered to no longer be pacified by the T.V.’s the moment the Thin Man was set free. We additionally discovered the Viewers in episode 5 of the Little Nightmares 2 comics, caught the Ghost child the moment the T.V. shut down (situation in episode 5 was similar, but a little different, more on that here).

 What does this mean exactly? it means whomever resided in this room may have exhibited the same behaviors as the Viewers who chased Mono and attacked the ghost child once their T.V. failed to provide the transmission. The inhabitant of the room, may have gone berserk, lashing out at anything nearby, struggling to find some way out to search for another T.V. that could provide them the transmission once more, until finally...they found a way out...through the vent the “Girl in the yellow raincoat” discovered long after the room was finally left empty. Due to the location of the vent and the position of the vent cover being left leaning on the wall, its almost as if someone, some poor unfortunate child, had the misfortune of opening the vent and freeing whatever or whomever resided inside the room.

Is this why there was a dead pigeon and numerous broken eggs?. Had the pigeon made the unfortunate mistake of nesting in this room and disrupted the Viewer which resided inside, then the pigeon itself, along with its numerous eggs, would have suffered the wrath of the Viewer. The only egg to survive, would have been the one egg it incubated, the only egg which had the fortune of being nested under the T.V, providing it the advantage of remaining in a safer position as the Viewer focused its attention on the broadcast rather than the egg which laid silently below, ready to hatch at any moment, but ultimately facing the cruel fate of being born under a dangling T.V. hanging by its final thread.

Now, had this inhabitant(possibly Viewer),  left through the same air duct the girl in the yellow raincoat found, then...where are they now? there were no clothes left in this room so they couldn’t have been sucked into the T.V., meaning they must have gone somewhere else. Then again, if this Viewer had truly escaped, then odds are...it could not have gone far the moment it encountered the Residents of the Nest. We have never seen a Resident and a Viewer interact, but perhaps an interaction such as this may not be so different to the Guests of the Maw and the Residents who cater to them. In the Maw, the Residents do not care for what happens to the lives of the Guests, their only purpose is to eat until it is time for them to be drained of their life force by the Lady of the Maw to sustain the Maw and keep it thriving, then use their bodies to feed to other Guests and help the Maw continue to grow. 

    Because the Pretender is as short tempered as she is, then one could only imagine what she could have done or what her staff could have done had they encountered the inhabitant of the room wandering the Nest. Nevertheless, we can be certain of one thing, no matter who they were or what they did, if they had truly managed to escape from the confines of their tiny room, their fate would have been anything but merciful...but hey!, its just a theory...a Little Nightmares 2 theory!

[thegenealogy]

1 Chronicles 23: 7-9. "Determinations and Purposes."

Gershonites

Gershonites are ways our traits are extracted out of the ordinary dull man and help him become sovereign:

7 Belonging to the Gershonites:

Ladan and Shimei.

Ladan="Determination of Purpose."

Shimei=

שמע

The verb שמע (shama') means to hear and may also mean to understand or obey. Noun שמע (shema') means sound. Nouns שמע (shoma') and שמועה (shemu'a) mean tidings, report or mentions. Noun השמעות (hashma'ut) describes that which is caused to be heard. Noun משמע (mishma') means rumor or a thing heard. Noun משמעת (mishma'at) refers to a group or listeners.

=A determination to listen will be rewarded with a determination by others to be heard.

8 The sons of Ladan,

Jehiel the first, Zetham and Joel—three in all.

Why three? Three is the number of natural agreement. With three people there are never ties, always a majority on any issue. This is the harmony the Tanakh implies when it employs groups of three to help us find the proper definitions of the names.

Jehiel=to make a living:

חיה

The verb חיה (haya) means to live and life is all about resonance between elements — molecules working together to make a living cell, cells working together to make a living organism and human minds working together to make a living nation.

Adjective חי (hay) means living and adjective חיה (hayeh) means lively. Noun חיה (hayya) means life or living thing, and may also be used to describe a vibrant community. Plural noun חיים (hayyim) literally means livings but describes the whole palette of activities a living being engages in: one's making-a-living.

Zetham=be the light bringer

זהה

It's not clear whether the verb זהה (zaha) or זתת (zatat) ever existed but if it did it probably meant to emerge fresh or bloom (it does so in cognate languages). Note that a flower contains a plant's reproductive organs and by displaying its flowers a plant indicates its willingness and readiness to reproduce. In our modern times flowers have managed to attain a kind of romantic innocence but their native function and original symbolism is that of sexual union (which is why dudes bring flowers), or rather more general: the willingness and ability of being fruitful.

Besides some names, its sole surviving derivative is the noun זית (zayit), olive or olive tree. The blossoming of the olive tree was a sign that the winter was over and spring (ziv) had arrived. The oil from the olive was used in lamps and in medical procedures and became known as a light bringer and a healer. Kings, prophets and priests were anointed into their offices with olive oil, and in proper societies these offices are not political but based on demonstrable levels of practical, fruit bearing wisdom.

Joel= live up to the standards

אלל

The root אלל ('alal) predominantly describes a protruding or sticking out. This may be positive (when one leads a collective), neutral (when one is a tree), or negative (when one fails convention). The latter sense in particular describes foolishness, or at least a failure to live up to cognitive standards or common codes of conduct.

9 The sons of Shimei:

Shelomoth, Haziel and Haran—three in all.

Shelomoth=to make the peace whole again

שלם

The verb שלם (shalem) means to be or make whole or complete, and is also used to describe a righteous recompense or proper restitution (whether positive or not). The familiar noun שלום (shalom) means wholeness, completeness or peace.

Haziel=look forward, be in front

חזה

The verb חזה (haza) means to see or behold. Noun חזה (hozeh) means seer or visionary. Nouns חזות (hazot), חזות (hazut), חזיון (hizzayon) and מחזה (mahazeh) mean vision, anything between the mere act of seeing to experiencing a prophetic apparition. The noun מחזה (meheza) literally describes a place or instrument of vision and is the word for window.

It may be that the verb חזה (haza) originated in the idea of being or looking forward, which would explain the noun חזה (hazeh), which describes the breast of an animal. It may also be that this noun derives from a second verb חזה (haza), to be in front.

Haran=be hot, get pregnant

הרר

The noun הר (har) is the Bible's common word for mountain or hill. Intuition dictates that the root of the word for mountain probably has to do with being elevated, but that's not correct. In Hebrew thought, a mountain is not something that's high but rather a lot of something gathered. And so, a mountain became synonymous for a large but centralized group of people (Jeremiah 51:25), or even gods (Isaiah 14:13).

The obviously related verb הרה (hera) means to be or become pregnant. An association with the previous noun is obvious, although not because the stomach of a pregnant woman resembles a mountain. The Bible depicts nations as individual women even more than as mountains; the words אמה ('umma), meaning people and אם ('em), meaning mother are closely related. A pregnant woman is to her husband what a conceiving nation is to its deity.

Haran I meaning

For a meaning of the name Haran, both BDB Theological Dictionary and Jones' Dictionary of Old Testament Proper Names propose Mountaineer.

The name Haran II: Summary

MeaningFreedom, Central FireEtymologyFrom the root חרר (harar), to be a central hub of heat.

These were the heads of the families of Ladan.

We are analyzing what made Solomon's Kingdom different from David's. To conceive a new nation is to give birth to the qualities of its God. If we add to what we've learned already, the first stage is the Four Steps of strategic planning the Temple must perform to set the attitudinal race the people must run in the coming era.

Next is Ladan, which is why one practices Judaism at all. "To make a living while bringing in the light of God."

The Tanakh says the bringing of light begins with a legal framework that originates from what is called Crown-In-Parliament that establishes justice and fairness throughout the world.

Overlooking this, is the vision window which peers upon the heart of the animal and looks forward to its humanity, just as David's people must have after they were freed from captivity in Babylon.

On a personal scale, we have no choice we must grow up and face life through a body that is always changing as it ages. This is the slavery in Babylon; one must outgrow the temptations of youth.

On a national level, the People have a right to a path and purpose that is legally regulated past the point of primitive ideals and respond as rapidly as possible after they are violated.

The importance of this is well known to people living in places like America which were changed forever by despots like George W. Bush and Donald Trump who instituted a deregulated and insecure way of life from which we have not since recovered.

They are examples of how personal and national determinations warp each other. The answer to their legacy is here: "A large group of centralized people climbing to the top of the most elevated of thoughts."

This begins, as in the story of King David, a Crown-In- Parliament, who was first subject to God and led the rest through his Court, the names of whom are contained in this Tanakh.

[daemon-in-my-head]

Since I'm very not okay about durgetash and have an unholy obsession with tassles (they're not only fun to play with, they are also just pretty.) lemme dive further into that idea, if I already deliver the delulu I might as well expand on it and share my tassle knowledge. Also because I'm now positively obsessed with the idea.

So where I'm from, we still have shooting clubs. They come with uniforms, medals, etc etc. There's no actual hierarchy or smth, but we do have tassles. In our case, you get them for specific achievements and for being a member for a while. For example, for 5, 10, 20 years, etc. They're tied to a shash that is fixed to the front of the uniforms jacket on the right side. That way, you can immediately spot how long someone has been a member and what they may have already done for the club, or in other words, how respecyful especially you should be. They're awarded yearly at a big celebration where all sorts of awards are handed out and the years most skilled archer is crowned king/queen. Funnily enough though, being a king or queen won't get you a tassle, only a plate to be fixed to ur house and a medal on the necklace that is passed down from each "sovereign" to the next one in the following year. The honour of a tassle goes beyond simply being the best archer (side note, this explains so much about my culture).

But since I can't be normal about anything, there's other fun instances where tassles are used, here's a few I could find easily and or remember cuz I like them:

In the Hebrew bible, they're a sign of holiness and used by the faithful to remember their commandments.

In the Middle East, they function as talismans, especially to protect children from malevolent spirits and to ward off demons.

Meanwhile, in China, they're symbols of auspiciousness, wealth, and good luck, where as in Japan, they're closely tied to specific shinto gods.

In general, tassles are often used as decoration for clothing but also for talismans and the likes, and they're usually tied to things such as remembrance, honour, luck, protection, I could go on for days. Tassles are pretty much universally seen as a symbol of something inherently good. And they're pretty, and you can make them from any string so they're widely accessible. The rich can use em but so can the less fortunate ones.

In regards to the hairpin; I love the idea that he just stowed it away in a safe place but takes it out regularly to fidget with it for a plethora of reasons. It's just perfection, and I can't add further to it.

Also, my fav oc to ship with the racoon man has a sort of necklace with bronze tassles because I love tassles and mirroring small details in designs. And torturing myself by drawing tassles. Bonus points because a demigod of murder just sat down for hours, crafting little intricate tassles, perhaps even to redeem himself for doing something unhinged that drove Gortash mad. This may have just become a plotline. It became a plotline. Fuck.

OK first of all:

Leaving this in the tags is a crime @sipsoftea

Secondly, let me amp the delulu cuz I've got a tadpole now:

Durge is no smith, he probably tried for the shits and giggles once but he's just really not cut out for that. What he can do however is sew. He knows how to stitch up wounds and all, Needlework is his thing. Those tassles on Gorty's belt? Guess where he got them. Maybe even the twirled string that keeps the dragon insignia in place. It's small, but the person that crafted them must've undoubtedly been very careful in doing so. The tassles are even red. The one color both Bhaalists and Banites have in common. Also passion, love, blood, yada yada

Also for the sake of fall back, Durge got some money cuz assasin business be booming (and theft) so Gortash now has long hair before he begins his shonen MC haircut arc and Durge fr fr got him a hair pin.

[92fs]

There’s a popular opinion that Mello’s rosary is a sign of going for “mafia aesthetics” rather than a sign of his faith, but I deeply disagree with this opinion. 

In this post, I want to discuss Mello’s crosses being a sign of his personal religion rather than the sign of his aesthetical leaning. 

There are multiple religious attributes that we see Mello wearing in the manga: rosary on his neck, prayer beads/bracelet with a cross on his wrist and a cross on his Beretta: 

The rosary Mello is wearing is a Catholic rosary with a pendant - a flat bead in the middle. The bracelet with a cross is not another rosary, but rather something that looks like a prayer bracelet with a cross. Both of these are religious attributes and while a rosary is very often seen as an aesthetical piece, prayer beads are not.  The cross on Mello’s gun also looks Catholic and might be there for the sake of “blessing for a good shot” if Mello’s religious. Otherwise, there’s not much reason for the cross to be on the gun handle. 

The opinion I often see is that these symbols are tied to the aesthetics Mello seems to follow, but this sounds like a reach to me. The reason is because we actually do have another character who wears crosses for aesthetical reasons - Misa. Let’s compare the crosses: 

It’s obvious that Misa’s cross and Mello’s one are drastically different. Mello’s cross is detailed, with beads and a pendant - obviously religious whereas Misa’s one is a simple chain with a cross-shaped pendant on it. She doesn’t wear any prayer beads or anything of the kind either. The creators knew how to portray someone with an aesthetical approach to wearing crosses - which they did not do when creating Mello. 

Now, a lot of people seem to assume Mello’s crosses are there for the sake of keeping up with the “Italian mafia aesthetics”, but the mafia in Death Note is never said to be Italian.  Officially, it’s a westcoast criminal organization with a man as the head of it - his name is Rod Ross. He has absolutely no religious symbols on him, is only shown wearing a chain, and it seems like a reach to assume that the mafia as portrayed in Death Note handles religious attributes as aesthetics: 

Not only that, but the gang majorly consists of people with German and American names, thus not fitting the “stereotypical Italian mafia” image people seem to impose on it.  It needs to be noted there are characters in Death Note with Italian-sounding names, like Giovanni or some names Light put down in the notebook, so the creators clearly knew how to create a stereotypical Italian syndicate group - but they did not. 

The gang isn’t even Mello’s, he’s simply associating with them. So, there’s no reason to assume that there’s any connection between Mello’s temporary association with a criminal group and his crosses. Also, it’s important to note that the creators likely had no idea what they were doing when creating this criminal organization. Judged by its members and by the way it functions, easily being dragged into helping Mello and treating him like a boss, it’s more of a criminal gang that a family-like structured mafia syndicate. 

Lastly, symbolism wise, Mello isn’t just shown wearing a cross or two. He’s constantly around very detailed, specifically Catholic attributes, crosses with and without crucifixes. It is even there when he is shown dead, which seems very important to me as there’s no reason to show something purely added in “for the aesthetics” in a scene as impactful and important as the character’s death. In LABB, he also speaks on “the Almighty”, comparing the shinigami to this deity he’s talking about - which also points out his religious standing. 

To sum it up, to me, it seems like Mello’s explicitly religious. With the gang that is not even his nor Italian, with Mello wearing other specifically religious objects, including a prayer bracelet, and with his differences from a character who was in fact portrayed treating cross-shaped objects as aesthetical means - I fully believe Mello is supposed to be Catholic.

This plays well into the plot as well as the dichotomy of Mello and Near being opposites of religion and Tarot-base spirituality. Treating Mello as someone non-religious, to me, is missing a lot of obvious symbolism and stripping him off a very important part of his personality. 

[binniesthighs]

♡nsfw alphabet w minho♡

I tried my best to make a list of my own, but I borrowed a few terms from this lovely template! 

requested by a cutie anon! 

Aftercare: (what they are like after sex) ok, so I see minho as someone who would be super caring after you’ve both properly come down and would want you to feel as comfortable as you can be--he doesn’t want you do have to do much. I am a big believer in minho drawing you a bath to help you relax and get cozy after: he’d hold you in his arms too while giving you a little massage. 

Bdsm: (are they into it? how “hard” do they like to go?) yes. the answer to this is yes. I feel like minho is one who really really gets off to the feeling of being the one in control, and knowing that you’re under his control. hearing your little whimpers, or seeing the way that you toss around when he’s using toys or has you bonded turns him on like no other. along this line, I feel like he’d also gladly tease you relentlessly until you’ve got tears in your eyes. he’ll only give you what you want if you ask him nicely 

Cum: (anything to do with cum) sooo minho loves cuming on you. he loves it a ton. for him, its the perfect picture when you’re gasping underneath him, just off your own orgasm, hands bound or clawing to the bed when he’ll cum on your chest, or your back, mayyybe even your face if you’re comfortable. oh! if you’ll cum on him...he doesn’t mind that either.

Degredation: (do they like using names on you, or for them?) as we have seen above, I feel like he would be into using degrading names, or having you say them back to him, for example: “you’re such a whore for my dick, tell me that you’re a whore for me.” etc. Of course, he never means what he says, he just knows that it amps things up for the both of you. 

Experience: (how experienced are they?) minho is fairly experienced, and also knows well what he likes and knows how to ask you what you like as well. minho isn’t scared to give you instructions or guide you in how you pleasure him as well--he would ask you to do the same!

Favorite (pet names): well, i think that there is a general consensus that minho likes kitten and kitty--it just makes sense lol. Otherwise, the softer ones would be my love, sweetheart, hun, doll, baby girl/boy etc.

Gagging: (size kink perhaps?) I think yes on this one. minho is alll about the power that he has over you, so seeing you gag would boost his confidence. knowing that you have to work a little harder to take him in reassures him that you’re his and that you only bend to him. at the same time, he would never push you to do something that made you uncomfortable and would ask you if you wanted to use safe words/ symbols. 

Hair: (how well groomed are they?) this is kind of funny because I think that minho would actually really care about this. mostly from a functionality standpoint, but also when he’s trimmed he feels more confident and like he’s got everything together and organized for when he’s with you. 

Intimacy: (the romantic aspect) so minho has 2 modes, and they vary depending on his mood or yours. mode 1 is where he’s doming the hell out of you and he gets to do what ever he likes, making you cum over and over again, teasing you for as long as you can take it and doesn’t show much mercy. on the other hand, when the vibe is different, holy hell he can give you the softest, most intimate sex that you can ever experience. i’m picturing super slow and deep thrusts into you, kissing you just as slowly in between while he tangles up his hands in your hair u g h i love thinking about this 

Jack off: (all about masturbation) I see Minho as one who would jack off really lazily, much later at night when there isn’t too much else to do; it isn’t something he prioritizes often unless there’s something that crosses his mind that really turns him on, he’ll even risk doing it somewhere semi-public if it means he gets to roll the image over and over in his mind, especially of you. Oh, and he loves jacking off in the shower when its steamy and warm, I don’t make the rules!! 

Kink(s): Minho loves having you all dressed up for him, I’m talking lace, velvet, anything strappy, harnesses, collars, chokers, thigh garters, maybe some kitten ears, mostly he just loves watching you and this is like icing on the cake. I see him having a hand kink as well?? When he’s worshiping your body, he watches his hands trace you all over, he loves it when you suck on his fingers, or when he rubs his thumb over tongue. Also, breath play, edge play and voyeurism!  

Location: anywhere. and I mean it. the more risky it is, the more exciting it is for him. bathrooms, locker rooms, dressing rooms, kitchen, living room couch, dining table, shower, bathtub, hotel rooms, the place doesn’t matter, it’s you that does. he would never miss an opportunity to be intimate with you whether its more slow and passionate or sweaty, rushed and needy. 

Multiple (partners): i think that this is something that minho would be open to! but not at first. minho is someone who can be very possessive at times, so sharing you with others when the realtionship is new makes him a little nervous--bc he wants you to be all his! after a while though, the idea of sharing you with someone and watching you get wrecked under them...he wouldn’t oppose. 

No: (something they won’t do, turn offs) while he won’t say no, daddy kinks aren’t his favorite, it’s simply something that doesn’t turn him on; he prefers to be the one calling you names hehe. he’s mostly an open minded person, just because he gets off on helping you get off. 

Oral: loves loves giving oral to his partner, it’s one of his favorite ways to begin foreplay, he’s exceptionally skilled as well, and knows perfectly how to use his mouth to tease. gives one hell of a blowjob, and knows how to make you cum over and over just from his tongue on your clit. he won’t ask you to blow him, but rather tease you until you’re begging to do it for him. 

Pace: super slow or super fuckin’ fast. there is no in-between and that’s that on that! if you ask me, as much as he revels in pounding you into the bed, it’s the slower and more sensual moments that linger on his mind longer. 

Quickies: i think this goes without saying, but minho never passes up the opportunity to take you right then and now. funnily enough, if you’re at work/school and send him a message about how you might be feeling a little horny, this man will drive all the way to you just to help you out. lil anecdote: his favorite thing to do is fuck you bent over a bathroom sink, battling the time before someone notices you’re away. he loves watching your fucked out face in the tinted green bathroom mirror. 

Ropes: (tying you up au) i added this to the list mostly for fun, but also I’ve got this idea of minho loosing his mind over having you tied up or restrained. ropes, ribbons, velvet, bow ties, handcuffs and much more. there’s nothing more that he likes than seeing you all helpless and not able to do anything about it. he thinks you looks so pretty tied up especially if it’s ribbons of pretty colors that look beautiful on your skin. 

Stamina: bucket loads. I’ve definitely seen something somewhere talking about how minho’s got a dancers stamina and I can’t agree more. minho’s got the stamina to draw out his thrusts for hours or give it to you as quickly and as roughly as he possibly can, granted he’ll be a sweating mess by the time that he’s done, but he sees that as sign that he did his job very well. 

Toys: in my oponion, yes and no. lolll I say this for the reason of minho’s ego getting in his own way. he feels fuckin’ amazing knowing that he can make you cum as hard as you do only from his body and would much rather use the tools at his disposal rather than toys...but...seeing what toys can do to you and how he can use them to his advantage is soemthing he won’t pass up. His personal favorites are all kinds of vibrators, cock rings, hmmm and occasionally nipple clamps

Unfair: (tw: dubcon) (how much that they like to tease) oh my, very much so. fuck, it’s probably his favorite thing to do to you! I’ve said before on this account that minho is into teasing even when it isn’t “that time” meaning he’ll brush up against you in public with his hand or grind himself into you when you’re sitting in his lap. his hand will creep up your thighs slightly when the two of you are in the car together to make you squirm a little bit. and of course, he’ll tease you for real when he’s got you all to himself, and would do it for hours if you let him. 

Volume: frick i love thinking about this!!!! i see minho as being someone more on the quiet side: shaky exhales, choked little breaths, the occasional soft “mmm” or “ahh.” if he’s really loosing himself in it however, looking down at you with tears in your eyes, or drool slipping down your neck from blowing him, he’ll let out some of the most unapologetically erotic moans on his pink lips

Wild card: (you pick!) i would like to use this place to talk about how much a bratty sub makes him go frickin’ feral. There is something about the way that you bite back at each of his demands, it only makes him want to dig into you even harder. you’d say to him as he’s relentlessly fucking into you “i-is that all that you can do? you’re bo-boring me...” in seconds, he would have you flipped around into a completely different position, something you didn’t even know existed that makes your muscles burn but your heat ravenous. he’d say, “if i’m so boring how is it that I’ve made you a fucking mess for me three times already?” 

X-ray: (what’s going on under those pleather pants) thicc thighs I’ll tell you that HA, jk that’s just me having the biggest most embarrassing thigh kink alive lmaooo. buuut it’s true! minho’s got those perfectly toned and thick thighs that he loves having you grind on of course. as for what this letter is really about, I see minho has having just the right proportions. not to be cheesy, but it’s like this boy was practically frickin made for you!! buuuut I think we all know that minho’s packing with something  

Yes: (biggest turn ons) on top of the ones mentioned above, I wanna make this one kinda cute and sentimental just bc I can lolll, but a major turn on for minho is a bomb ass personality!! minho really treasures people who are unique, true to themselves and passionate about something! he finds this super super attractive. this man is an absolute SIMP for a personality and that’s the first thing he falls in love with about you! (also shhhh I’m not pushing my pan!minho agenda shhh) 

Zzz: (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) kinda like with aftercare, minho can’t rest himself properly until you are fully taken care of! as soon as he knows that he’s covered all the bases: cleaning you off, getting you clothes, water, food, giving you a massage if you need it. as soon as the two of you are all cuddled up in together, then he’ll be able to relax himself, patiently smoothing down your hair as you fall asleep yourself, then, he’ll be out like a light. 

[youarejesting]

Daylight

[Full Masterlist]

Beta: @fluffy-fluffu @taegularities @xiaokoo​ (if I forgot someone let me know, some people were in anon) Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: Fluff, fantasy, adventure, angst, scifi, Romance, mystery,  Words: 12.6K

Summary: When trying to find a place to sleep the reader finds an elevator that only goes down. When it reaches the bottom, the reader is met with a new world and new civilization. Have you found somewhere you belong or are you in over your head.

You were looking for a place to sleep. The train station had two areas: the new and improved station on the ground level and the old and abandoned level underground. The underground level was blocked off, but you needed somewhere to sleep. No amount of graffiti, rats or even kids with cans of spray paint could stop you. 

You slipped past the fence and headed down the stairs until you reached the old abandoned floor below. You could hear every footstep that echoed. With the limited light from the platform at the top of the stairs you could only make out outlines of pillars and benches. You would turn on a light but that would give your position away. 

While finding the edge of the platform you almost fell onto the tracks. Jumping down, you followed the wall till you reached the little maintenance rooms at the end of the long almost pitch black tunnel. You were hoping you could find one with either a power socket for your phone or a built-in phone to call out. Though who would you call? You were homeless, meaning you had exerted all other options and lost the ‘friends’ you thought you had.

Hand colliding with a doorknob -that would leave a bruise- you stepped inside and waited. Hoping you were alone but not able to guarantee, you had to work up the courage to turn on a light. 

Deciding to flip the light switch, you gave yourself a mental pep talk. After all, if you were to die anyway it wouldn’t matter if you exposed yourself to hidden demons, devils, ghosts, murderers, or crazies.

The place was empty and small. You saw an old-style computer, the type that’s all bulky and awkward in shape. The huge monitor had an ugly keyboard built in and a long wire leading to the mouse. What, was this built in the eighties? You assumed the motherboard was underneath as such.  

Turning on the light, you looked around intrigued - this place was clean, like seriously clean. This platform and train line had all been abandoned, so who was coming here to clean it? Even if it was a maintenance room, it was odd, and everything inside was old which made sense, except the elevator in the corner. 

The elevator gave many red flags: the fact there was only a down function, and the fact it seemed to be clean like the rest of the room somehow made it worse. You walked over and found a clipboard on the desk; eyeing the bin beside the desk, you noticed the empty can of coke. 

Someone signed off on maintenance just yesterday. Again, who was performing maintenance on an abandoned rail line? Especially on the vintage equipment. Turning to face the elevator, the proverbial curious cat inside you clawed at the thought of where the elevator would take you. Could it be another floor, a secret base, some machinery storage or perhaps, you thought morbidly, hell? 

Taking the chance, you pressed the call button for the elevator. The doors slid open, lights flickering on overhead and you heard the bell chime to indicate the elevator had reached. Stepping inside nothing seemed off at first glance. Pressing the down button, you waited as the elevator descended. It all seemed normal.That was until an entire floor length passed. 

You grew worried, you had been descending further than you anticipated.

The elevator continued on its journey downwards while you sat on the floor, now worried about what you would come across in the end. You had noticed the government symbol on the floor of the elevator and that made everything even more suspicious. But a part of you was happy you had somewhere safe -albeit cold- to sleep, even if it was an elevator.

When the elevator finally stopped, you saw twinkling lights in the sky which were lightening to a peachy color. It was like you were outside, but that was impossible. You had gone underground, you know you did, and even if you had somehow gone up, you would be on the city streets outside the train station, not in some beautiful parkland.

You stood there in awe, watching the sunrise, taking a moment to fully appreciate the scenery. Something you didn’t do quite often. You had been locked up in the safe confines of your room for a long time and it took being homeless to really appreciate nature and things it had to offer, like the rising sun. The air was refreshing and the sounds of the animals were mingling with the constant from the river in a calming harmony. 

You heard a sound and whipped around to look for the cause, when you heard a gasp. 

“Are you the Almighty?” 

Your heart hammered in your chest. The only thing you noticed was how sweet the voice was. Why was someone down here? This was getting weird, something was going on and you were scared to find out what it was.

Your eyes darted around trying to find the person down there with you when you finally saw him. In front of you stood the most beautiful person you had ever seen, ethereal and perfect. You knew you were pretty good looking, but your recent lack of home meant you weren’t as clean as you wished to be.

As you examined him further, you noticed little things like how his long brown hair was tied intricately with ribboned fastens, and peaking through the hair were two pointed ears. It was odd but the more you looked at him, the more you realized how inhuman he really looked.

He seemed to be looking at you the same way, studying your shorter stature and lack of pointed ears with a curious look on his face. You had seen elves before, in movies, the Christmas type and the fairytale kind, and you had to admit Legolas had nothing on this man.

His dark eyes sparkled bright like the stars as they examined you, “Hello, do you understand me?” His voice was so eerily soft, it caused you to shrink. He smiled at your reaction before speaking softly, “I won’t hurt you.”

“Where am I?” You asked this time, causing him to look shocked. His smile became wider, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“You do understand me.” He stepped forward, making you cower back at his advances. “What is it like in the heavens? Is this your vessel?” 

He grinned looking around you and at the elevator, smiling and tapping at it, “You must come back to the village and we will hold a celebration.”

He took your arm and led you through the trees. He didn’t seem to be rushed nor did he feel threatening in any wayHe just gently guided you along, asking you questions. He didn’t really give you time to answer before he started talking again. 

“Tell me, are you one of the Almighty? I have never met an Almighty before, we pray to them and they give us gifts from the heavens. I have only met elves and that is it. What is your name?” He turned and just as you were about to answer he continued, “My name is Jimin.”

The whole trip you learned a lot about Jimin, he was excitable, he liked to talk, listen when needed and he also liked dancing and being mischievous. He said the other elves ignored him because he wasn’t noble or rich. He wasn’t as well-bred as the others.

“You are so tiny, Yoongi will be happy, he is the shortest Elf you will ever meet. Well, I assume elves, where you are from, are quite tall.” He laughed.

“Um, I have never met an elf before,” you plucked up the courage to admit and his eyes turned to youIt was apparent that he was shocked. “Sorry.”

“So, Elves don’t exist where you are from?” He asked, watching you nervously shake your head. “That is so strange.”

As you continued walking, the sun rose some more and you began to notice a few more things that shocked you. You had realized the whole place was an artificial world. It seemed to go on for a fairway, you could just see walls of vines and greenery, but there were lights that simulated artificial daylight. 

The roof had screens showing a fake sky - there must have been UV lights as the trees and vegetation seemed to be growing well. Then, of course, there was the elevator shaft you had been in before: the further you walked along the road, the more animals, buildings and people you had seen. 

They turned to you, gawking at your differences and style of dress. To them, you must have appeared like a filthy child dressed in rags. To you, they were a beautiful community draped in the finest of fabrics. They were dressed in a style you could only describe as a mix between a Sari and a greek Toga. Even Jimin who told you he wasn’t noble or rich was dressed better than yourself. It was then that you noticed how big this underground ecosystem really was and on top of that, the people were all beautiful beyond comparison. 

They all looked scared of you, each tripping over themselves to show you around and lavish you in gifts. Jimin had rushed off once a noble woman had spotted you. He left you in her care, deeming himself no longer worthy of your presence. You watched how the elves lived and played with the children.

The tour of the village was long, your legs growing tired, merchants giving you fruits and tea. You were going through the town centre, walking between stalls. People busily rushing past. You caught Jimin’s eye. He seemed to be teaching something to some slightly younger elves, and when one fell, he helped them up and brushed off the dirt from their pants before giving some words of encouragement.

You met many people before you were taken to a small bathhouse to be washed and buffed, your hair was brushed and twisted into a beautiful hairstyle. The fabrics wrapped and draped around you were more expensive than any piece of clothing you had ever owned in your life.

Feeling cleaner than you had in a long time, you were led into one of the elaborate buildings before they sat you down, giving you food and entertaining you. They called for dancers and there he was, stepping out in silks and lace, spinning and leaping, moving as if  he was weightless. Jimin truly was beautiful. 

After his dance, he was ushered away and a woman stepped out, “I am Lady Adora and I am the leader of the village. I have brought to you some of the finest men. Pick any elf you wish, they are noble, each pleasing to the eyes and well educated.”

Was she trying to sell you a man? This seemed to be some weird arranged marriage business. You were led out from behind the dining table and asked to walk down the line, “This one is the eldest, Kim Seokjin - he is handsome and romantic, he has good heritage. Next is Min Yoongi, who is shorter than the average elf, but he is creative and enjoys the simple things.” Just as you thought, this was like the bachelorette and you were supposed to pick someone. Admittedly they were all gorgeous, it was insane. “Jung Hoseok is from a brilliant family of scholars and he has a cheerful disposition; he is friendly and caring.” Lady Adora continued.

“Kim Namjoon is a genius, he has a love for nature and is from a good family. Kim Taehyung is a little odd, but he is refreshingly curious and has equally refreshing features.” Your eye caught sight of the dancers; there he was in his soft silks and laces, peeking from behind a pillar. Behind him, some small elves also seemed to be peeking at you curiously.

He shushed them as you stepped up to the last young man, “This is our youngest, a very talented man, he is from a good family and he strives for perfection.”

“They are all very nice looking,” you said with a smile.

“Would you like to have them all?” The elf leader spoke up in confusion. 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” you backpedaled quickly, “I was just admiring their skills and beauty as you had described them to be, very handsome individuals with good backgrounds.”

You saw the dancer giggle into his bell sleeve and subconsciously smiled back at him. You were led back to the table and sat down, “You can choose any of the eligible young elves within the village, has anyone caught your eye?” Adora asked sitting beside you and handing you a drink. “You have plenty of time to decide. How about some more festivities? Dancers!”

Jimin raced back into the clearing of the dining hall. He knew he wasn’t a noble or anyone particularly worthy of being with an Almighty. The Almighties were the beings they prayed to in order to receive gifts from the heavens. This Almighty was a gift from the heavens for the people and he knew that she had to be treated favorably, so as to please the Almighty.

Jimin had never seen anything like you before, your beauty was subtle, hidden but under the right circumstances you bloomed like a flower. He enjoyed watching your expressions as he danced. It was the reason he chose to dance, to make the Almighty happy with each performance.

“He dances so well,” you smiled; he could hear you and a part of him hoped it was you he was talking about. “The one in the black and red silks with the red lace.”

“That is Jimin, would you like him?” Upon hearing Lady Adora offering him of all people, he stumbled and the music stopped.You rushed out around the table, but he was already scurrying into a bow as if he was begging for his life. Sitting on his feet, hands flat on the floor and his forehead touching the ground. He did this whilst crawling backwards away from you.

“Jimin,” you whispered, lifting his head. It was cheesy how his heart fluttered in his chest when your eyes locked on his. His mouth fell open, he believed he saw you blush, his breath caught in his throat. Did he say your beauty was subtle? He was wrong.

“I am sorry, I will go repent,” he said, bowing low again.

“Please forgive Jimin, he must have been light-headed,” Adora said as if trying to calm you. He never believed in the elf’s stupid idea of love at first sight, but there he was, in love. 

Taking his hands in yours, you lifted him and guided him to the table. He almost choked when you tried to make him sit in your chair. Jimin dug his feet into the ground when you tried to lead him up the steps to your seat. He felt uneasy with the whole room watching him struggle and eventually sat down on the step below you, graciously accepting the food and drinks you offered albeit embarrassed. 

“I am sorry that I didn’t perform well,” Jimin spoke sadly, his ears and cheeks aflame. “I will make sure to be better next time.”

“You are a beautiful and elegant dancer and I enjoyed watching the way you moved to the music.” Your words sounded so warm and the accent was unlike anything he had ever heard. His brain got past your voice and caught up with what you had said and he ducked his head from how red his cheeks had become.

“You are too kind, I-'' He was cut off by Adora asking if you had decided on an elf. You leaned over to Jimin.

“Why am I supposed to choose an elf?” you asked. Jimin took a sharp breath, your hair had brushed his shoulder and he lost himself in your eyes, “What does choosing an elf mean?”

Jimin laughed almost in stitches. You didn’t know why these elves were being presented to you and he decided to explain it all before you had to choose. Because what if you chose randomly and didn’t like the elf? He wanted you to be happy. Even if a small part of him was jealous of the noble elves. You would be stuck with them together for eternity after all.

“Lady Adora, I think it would be best to explain to the Almighty why she is choosing a suitor,” Jimin prompted, lowering his head. She was a caring leader, but he still wanted to show her respect. Everyone in the community knew one another, and Lady Adora had practically raised him. Though elves could live forever, there had been times where elves had lost their lives. 

These times included when the Almighty would be angered and come down from the heavens and take those they wished, laying waste to anyone who got in their way. Jimin was familiar with this notion: his father had been the previous leader of the village - he had tried to stop the Almighty from taking some of the innocent elves. Jimin was  only a baby when he and a few other children were taken. 

Jimin’s parents fought hard, but they were both killed in the process for interfering with the Almighty’s plans. The children were returned, unharmed, but the damage was done. Jimin was orphaned. It was strange. Jimin was so young, so he didn’t know what had happened, but it seemed none of the children taken really remembered what happened either. 

“The Almighty will be blessed with any elf she chooses to spend the rest of her life with,” Adora explained smiling; it was amusing to see the realization on your face. “The elves will now demonstrate their specialty energy.”

They had magic, they were air and water benders or something. These were real Naruto jutsus. You were about to lose your mind. ‘Pick a husband, and guess what their secret powers are.’ That’s what she should have said in the first place. Jimin had almost wet himself, giggling at your expense when he realized you didn’t know what this whole celebration was for. They were celebrating you and apparently your gift was an eternal super hot elf husband.

“Who do you choose?” Adora asked and you froze. This had to be some sort of fever dream. The elevator collapsed on you and you died, the rats underground were probably eating your body as you dreamt this.

“Does everyone have powers?” You asked Jimin and he held out his hand where a glowing orb appeared, “What’s that?”

“I can heal things.” He smiled, healing being something he believed stemmed from his parents deaths. Cultivated with the hopes of never suffering loss again. “Do you want me to explain to Adora that you need more time?”

“We can have the boys answer some questions if you would like?” Adora seemed desperate.

“I think I will need more time to choose properly ” you said, squaring your shoulders definitively and Lady Adora nodded approvingly. 

“Excellent,” she clapped her hands, “you shall all get to know each other before choosing.”

The dinner and celebrations raged on filled with laughter and dancing, when Lady Adora spotted you yawning. You were guided to a room where you retreated for the night in a warm bed. 

You woke in disbelief. You weren’t dead in a collapsed elevator nor were you being feasted on by a group of rats. No, instead you were in the softest bed, feeling like you had just gotten the best sleep of your life. You sat up hearing a knock at the door, quickly straightening up and calling them in. 

A small part of you was scared that they would figure out you weren’t who they thought you were to be and they would kick you out or worse. Your memory was a bit foggy and everything seemed like a dream. It was hard to discern what was real and what might have been your imagination while you slept.

It hit you that this was all real, when they drew you a bath. They filled it with soft petals and took it upon themselves to help you wash once more - it almost seemed like overkill, you were scrubbed and polished just yesterday. Did you really need another thorough clean?

Dressed in the most delicate of dresses intricately tied around your waist and neck, you spun, watching the skirt flutter around you. You were giddy, wanting to sing and dance. It was such a drastic change. The community seemed so welcoming and gentle, they had no negative thoughts or intentions. 

They guided you to the town square which had been decorated in flowers. The boys were walking around with baskets of flowers, some sitting making flower crowns intricately and you skipped after Jimin, who led you to a beautiful meadow by the river. The hem of your dress was bouncing slightly with every step. You crouched beside him, looking at the flower crown he began making. 

“Wow! That’s pretty. Can you make me one?” you grinned; Jimin spluttered and he looked at you in shock. Had you offended him? “I’m sorry.”

“No, you did nothing wrong, it’s just flowers are a big part of courting in elf tradition, if you accept the flower crown, you accept the elf as a prospective partner. Or at least you like them enough to dance with them during the flower festival.”

You hummed in thought and grinned at him, “I like you enough to dance with you, unless you want to give it to someone. Then I won’t bother you”

“No one usually dances with me?” He laughed, more to himself, “Last year I danced with Hana. I think she did it out of pity and she didn’t keep time, so she stepped on my toes.”

“Oh no!” You frowned, “wait, I don’t know the dance?” 

He stopped looking up at you, you were fretting, “please teach me the dance!” You gripped his hands and he nodded, taking your hands. He led you away from the flowers in the small meadow and began explaining the dance and you nodded, paying attention. 

He tried to teach you the dance, giving you directions and laughing when you felt hopeless. He took your hands and guided you through the steps, humming a foreign tune. You were reduced to giggling something about the spins, the hand holding and the steps felt so good; you were so happy and giddy. 

You spun laughing and fell against his chest, he caught you, quickly placing you back to your feet and stepping back. “You are actually a really good dancer.”

“Maybe it’s because you are my teacher?” You smiled.

“If only you would look away from your feet,” he teased and you laughed.

“It's been fun dancing with you, I have never learnt a proper dance before,” you blushed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Thank you Jimin.”

You kissed his cheek and ran off and spinning quickly to see his bright red cheeks. You joined the festivities, trying the food and even playing some of the games with the ribbons and hoops. 

It was time for the evening dance and the young eligible elves stood with their hands out, flower crowns intricately designed resting atop their palms. Weaved flowers of different sizes and styles in colours of pinks, blues, reds and more, held by confident and bored looking elves. Behind them a nervous Jimin caught your attention.

You watched as he looked down, it was hard to see the crown from so far away but the colour scheme seemed to be yellow, the ribbon to which the flowers were weaved was a shiny gold. Yellow flowers usually represent friendship, like Jimin calling out for someone to just be his friend. 

“Hey, Hana, are you going to take Jimin’s flower crown this time?” One of the young female elves called in a hushed tone across the small group of eligible elvish maidens and yourself of course. 

“No, I did it last time because I felt bad for him” she whined. You felt disgusted that they were avoiding him.

“Whatever, someone has to make the first move,” the girls looked at each other nervously and you gently brushed past them and headed straight out onto the dance floor.

It seemed everyone was waiting for you to choose, stepping up to the first elf. You looked at the pink flowered crown in his hands; it was a little over the top and not your style. You saw his smirk and proceeded to step on, making a few of the other young elves laugh, Seokjin’s pointed ears turning red. 

“Seokjin, I thought you said no one could say no to you or your flower crown” they snickered. You continued. The next crown was almost falling apart and the elf ducked his head, apologising. 

“Hey, a crown doesn’t define you, people have different strengths. You are really smart from what I heard?” You smiled and moved through the lines, being polite and admiring their creatures, praising some and chatting with others. The purple crown was elaborate and beautiful, you smiled praising him. You would have taken it, had it not been for Jimin shuffling in the next row in your peripherals. You looked over and found him fiddling with his crown, pouting.

Thanking Jungkook, you stepped into the next row, not bothering to look at him any more and heading straight to Jimin. He was no longer watching you; he was staring at the floor, his hair covering his eyes. 

“Jimiiiin~” you smiled, spinning happily, “This is really pretty, can I see it?” 

He puffed up from your praise, getting a little bashful and held the crown up for you to see, “Oh this is lovely, Jimin, this is so pretty.”

“Thank you,” He was becoming more and more bashful, wiggling his shoulders cutely, scuffing his shoes on the stone.

“Can I wear it?” You asked, cupping your hands under his and looking up hopeful. You didn’t want to take away his choice on who he could give the crown to, but you also thought of him as your friend you were closer to than the others.

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded grinning. 

“Yes, but I don’t know how to wear these.Do you know how to tie them?” He laughed like sweet bells tinkling in the wind and it left you a little dazed and embarrassed, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“No, no, I would never,” he smiled, gently lifting the delicate flower crown onto your head, and taking the two ribbons, he began tying it behind your head. 

He was so close looking into your eyes as he tied it off and arranging the little flowers hanging strategically from the crown. Jimin’s crown was probably the sweetest looking, so delicate and intricate with soft petals or pale yellows and deep golds. 

You smiled and took your spots on the dance floor and the others did the same, the line of female elves and yourself facing the line of male elves and the dance began. Slowly you recited Jimin's teachings. 

Three steps forward, you  offered your right hand and he bowed, accepting the offered hand with both of his. While his right hand held yours, squeezing reassuringly, his left softly glided up your arm as he stepped behind you. 

His left hand slid from your left shoulder, down your back where he clutched your waist, trying not to giggle as he realised you were ticklish.. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you followed the routine, placing your left hand atop his. 

You looked down and he whispered into your ear, “Keep your head up, don’t look down, I will lead you perfectly trust me.” The feeling of his soft breath brushing the shell of your ear made you shiver. 

You felt beautiful and loved all from just one dance, it was like being the main character in a movie getting to dance with a beautiful man. He spun you and you were now facing one another, hand in hand, swaying and spinning.

You were exhausted from the dancing, your throat a little dry. You were met by Seokjin who handed you a drink. “Good evening, my lady, I apologise for not introducing myself sooner, I am Kim Seokjin, from the main house of Kim.” 

“Oh well, thank you for the introduction,” you smiled, taking a sip of the drink and Jimin looked awkward. 

“You have to choose an eligible bachelor and I thought it wouldn’t be fair unless we each got to spend time and get to know each other - so with that in mind I thought I could show you some of the fun games?”

“Uh sure, I guess you are right, it’s only fair I hang out with all of you equally.” He took your hand and looped it around yours, walking you away to the festival activities without giving you a chance to thank Jimin. 

Seokjin was hilarious, he took you to a small stall where there was fish in a tank and if you caught the fish, you got to keep it. You tried your best, but you were too busy laughing at Seokjin to catch anything. He was terrible and it was so comical, watching him fail his expressions over the top. 

You splashed water at him and he looked offended, he splashed back and you ran off before he could catch you. The two of you spoke, getting to know one another. Seokjin was really charming and handsome. He spoke to you about food and jokes and your cheeks ached from smiling, your sides stung from laughter. He stopped in front of a sweet scented stall, “you should try these - they are sugared roses, they are delicious.”

They were indeed delicious and he smiled at you, “it’s happening!” Seokjin took your hand in his bigger warmer one and dragged you along excitedly. 

“What’s happening?” You asked curious as to why he was running and he turned back grinning so childlike and pulled you along. 

“It’s the fireflies, come look!” He pointed at the sky and you saw it begin: the fireflies started to dance beautifully. It was amazing in all different colours and shapes and sizes; they spun together in the air, twisting and turning like a small galaxy. 

You felt someone standing behind you and smiled, Jimin was lost in the sight, “pretty.” 

“They dance to find love, that’s why every year in spring we dance as well,” Jimin said, “you will find love eventually.”

He handed you a small bag with a fish inside. It was white with a tail like a fan, tipped with gold and very pretty. “It’s a thank you for dancing with me.”

“Wait Jimin, I don’t have anywhere to put the fish.”

“Oh” he frowned, “I do, it can stay in my pond at home.”

“Well, then I will have to visit and take care of the fish,” you grinned, bumping your shoulder with his. Jimin was so cute. 

Once you woke and dressed your first destination was Jimin’s house to feed the fish. Jimin lived in a big house by himself and you were confused, “where are your parents and brothers and sisters?”

“They died when I was born.” He let out a soft sigh, the two of you sprinkling the fish food into the big pond out the back. There were about a hundred fish in different shades. He smiled leaning over to sprinkle another pinch of fish food, his hair dangerously close to the water, and you hooked your fingers around the tressels and tucked it behind his ear. 

He paused at the contact, shivering as he grabbed his ear, blushing. He let out a giggle, “Come on, let’s go see your new fish.” He brushed his hands on the lap of his midnight blue robes, standing and offering his hand to you. He pulled you up onto your feet and without letting your hand go he led you through the garden to another tiny pond where there were not as many fish occupying the small pool of water. 

But swimming in the water was the beautiful fantail fish Jimin had gifted you the night before. It was such a beautiful fish with its long tail fluttering in the water as it moved. “You are so pretty,” you grinned, gesturing to the fish food in the tiny heshen bag. “Can I?”

“Of course, she is very pretty. I couldn’t give you anything but the best, you are an Almighty. I put her in the tank with my oldest fish. I raised him since he was a baby, he is very calm.” This fish was also a fantail, but black with silver spots. Jimin held out the bag and you sprinkled the food out and he smiled.

“How old is he?” You smiled, watching the two swim around happily. 

“He turns thirty-five this year,” Jimin smiled, “Fish of this kind will often live till they are forty.”

“Wait, you can’t be over thirty-five, you look like you're twenty,” You scoffed, looking him up and down. He was quick to throw his head back and let out an adorable laugh, falling against you for a moment before picking himself up from your shoulder.

“I like that, Twenty, hahaha!” Wiping his eyes, Jimin ran away giggling, “I am sixty-five!”

“NO WAY!” You gasped chasing after him.

After feeding the fishes that morning with Jimin, you were sitting by the small fountain in the town centre, the people were cleaning up from the flower festival and the dance that night. It was a great night, but it was nice to see how the elves lived day to day. The festivals and celebrations were fun, but draining. Now no one was trying to wait on your hand and foot.

The elvish girls were giggling and quick to approach you, “Good morning, my lady. A few of us are all going to the waterfall, if you want to join in the fun.”

“Oh, that sounds really exciting,” you smiled, placing down the slices of melon Jimin had bought for you before he ran off to teach the young elfs. A disappointment filled you when you remembered you didn’t have a swimsuit. “But I have nothing to wear. What do you wear when you go swimming?” 

They giggled, grabbed you by the hands and pulled you towards the stalls in the market.It was an open lane that branched off from the town square. Stumbling into a marquee full of summer fabrics, they began offering you different options on what you could wear. You found something that resembled a bikini from the surface.

You smiled, showing the elvish ladies your selected swimwear.They went quiet and you wondered what they were thinking. But ultimately, this would be the most comfortable for you, it was what you were used to, so you were going to wear it no matter what.

Taking the fabric and following the group of elves, you trekked through the forest for a short while until you came across a small waterfall. The water was crystal clear and you could see the water running from a few pipes in the wall. There were a few tents where everyone got changed. You were helped by one of the ladies into the swim wear and she tied everything securely. 

Stepping out, the girls chorused ‘ooh’, making you feel a little self conscious - maybe it was weird to show this much skin. But they quickly forgot about what you were wearing and raced into the water. It was refreshing to swim, and you had to admit, your serotonin levels soared when you were splashing and playing with the elves in the water.

Some of the male elves were climbing the waterfall and jumping off squealing excitedly and you followed them. “Hey, you going to jump too?” The young male asked. His hair was braided entirely, so it was out of his face. “Come this way, it is easier to climb.”

He helped you up, guiding you the whole way, taking your hand to pull you onto tall rocks and placing your feet when you were determined to climb the smaller rocks. “You are so tiny, are you sure you can climb this one?”

As if his words had jinxed it, you slipped falling into his arms, your back pressed to his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you. He turned you in his arms and looked at your hands feet and knees for any cuts, he saw the slight graze on your palm and looked guilty.”I’m okay,”

Taking your hand in his he kissed the abrasion and apologized. “I should have been more careful.” He wouldn’t let you climb any of the rocks alone after that. You were thankful when you reached the top.

“Hey Jungkook, what took you so long, you scared?” A deep voice called. When you stepped up onto the flat part of the waterfall, you noticed the elf’s eyes widen as he took your hand helping you across the rocks. “Are you going to jump?” 

The two were giving you tips and tricks on how to jump properly. It was a lot. “I will go first and you can see how it is done,” Jungkook grinned, “Then Taehyung can count you in.”

“Okay.” You nodded, feeling a little sick at the idea of dropping that far into the water. Jungkook jumped, whooping the whole way down and it made you giggle. Now it was your turn.

“I will count you in, okay? And then you jump,” Taehyung said and you stepped up to the edge and shuffled back.

“Wow, that is high!” Your heart was beating in your ears like a drum and you felt like your legs give out.

“Come on, you can do it!” Jungkook shouted from underneath you. It seemed everyone was cheering you on from the bottom and you turned to Taehyung and stumbled over.

“I don’t think I can do it” You said, grabbing his arms, “I’m a big chicken, I will just walk back down and everything will be alright.” 

He rubbed your shoulders reassuringly, looking you in the eyes, “Hey, listen to me, I know it is scary, but it is a lot of fun and safe and you will love it.” You looked at him, he had gotten rather close and his hand snaked around your waist. You couldn’t even bring yourself to think about the jump as you were lost in his expression. 

His grip around your waist tightened and he lifted you up, alarm bells ringing as he ran towards the cliff and you started screaming. The jump was scary, but the fall was amazing, for a second you felt like you were weightless in a void. 

Splash! It was all over in a matter of seconds. When you resurfaced, you smacked Taehyung in the arms, calling him a traitor and then laughing when he tickled your waist. “You are a butt.”

Jungkook and Taehyung were playful and the three of you were searching for shiny rocks in the bottom of the water. They even showed you a cool underwater cave where the three of you sat talking before you swam back out. You grew tired of swimming and went to sit in the shade, hoping you wouldn’t get burnt. Even though there wasn’t a real sun the UV lights still worked the same.

Laying out your towel beside one of the other noblemen that you had previously been introduced to, you sat down and smiled. “Hey, I am Y/n.” You gave him a tired sigh, laying back on the towel, “You aren’t swimming?”

“Nah, it’s too loud,” he laughed, not bothering to look at you. “Heard you jumped off the waterfall.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you blushed, “who told you that?”

“No, I mean I heard you.” He smirked, turning to look at you and you blushed. He was quiet and the two of you soon dressed and bailed as the rambunctious group had gotten too loud for you both. 

“Here, try this.” Yoongi handed you a few berries and smiled when you tasted them, “So, with this choosing thing, what are you thinking?”

“I am not sure,” you sighed begrudgingly, you were supposed to choose and you couldn’t leave them hanging forever. 

“Well, if I can be honest to you lady Almighty,” he said softly, “Man up and choose Jimin, it is obvious how much you are in love with him.” 

You were stunned. He took a berry from your hand and smirked, walking away. “Wait, come back here. What do you mean, I am in love with him?”

“Everyone can see your face light up when you see him and you flirt like all the time.” He shrugged, picking up a small string instrument and sitting on the porch of his home, strumming away.

“I do not flirt like all the time,” you mocked his tone, before trying to defend yourself by further saying, “I don’t even flirt like any of the time, it’s called being friendly.”

“Friends don’t get lost in each other's eyes. I saw you this morning on my walk, you were touching Jimin’s ear and that’s beyond flirting, that’s heavy petting,” he said and you blinked confused.

“I was tucking his hair out of the way so it didn’t get wet, since when has that been heavy petting?” you asked with a laugh, reaching out to Yoongi, “Seriously, I could touch your ears and it would mean nothing.”

“Hey, stop,” he commanded, cheeks bright red. You looked confused and he examined your confused face. “You do understand that an elf’s ears are an erogenous zone, like it is intimate to touch another elf’s ears.”

Heat filled your cheeks. “Oh no, I did that to Jimin, I must have weirded him out. I hope I haven’t touched anyone else’s ears-”

“You would know if you did,” Yoongi said, patting your shoulder, “Look, Jimin likes you too, I think he understands you didn’t mean it like that.”

You wanted nothing more than to apologize to Jimin, but instead, you kept your mouth shut in shame. He let you feed the fish and watched you curiously. “Is something wrong, you seem really quiet today?”

“It’s nothing, I just have just been thinking,” you smiled softly.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No, if anyone has done something wrong, it is me.” You let everything spill out, “I want to apologize for doing things that might seem really intimate, I didn’t know that's what they meant, I was just trying to be friendly, cause you are my friend.”

“Oh, yeah sure, no I understand, I guess I thought, but nevermind.” He gave you a strange smile, “We are friends, of course. I have to go teach the kids dance this morning, I can see you later though.” 

You nodded, getting up quickly, “Maybe we can have lunch together?”

“Uh, I might be a bit busy,” he said, walking you out the front door and racing off and you just stood there, feeling kind of confused. Was it weird that you had addressed it? You hoped not.

Thinking that maybe you should read up on elf traditions and mannerisms etiquette and more, you headed to the one place that would house all this information.

The Library. 

What a library it was - there were floor to ceiling bookshelves and aisles and the books were all hand written and magnificent. “Good morning, My lady, can i help you find something today?”

“Yes, I want to know more about elves, the traditions, the etiquette, everything?” You hummed, “I mean I just found out yesterday you can’t touch an elf’s ears.” 

The man in front of you blushed and shuffled his feet, when you heard another voice, “Yeah, that’s something you should know.” The figure appeared from behind the bookshelves and smiled. “I mean between his book smarts and my street smarts well, we will have you thinking like an elf in no time.”

The two were indeed smart, Hoseok explained - his father was big on literature, but he often snuck off to Jimin’s dance lessons instead of studying. “The life of a scholar never stops, or whatever my dad says.”

You had finally learnt different holidays and aspects of life as an elf, it was kind of fun and you enjoyed hanging out with the two young elves. They followed you through the town, explaining things and making you laugh. 

“And that is the orphanage.” They gestured to Jimin’s home and you frowned, “It used to be the last leader's home but when they died their son was left orphaned and the house has become known as the orphanage.”

It was like a knife in your chest. You wanted to console Jimin, hold him and tell him he was loved, that his parents would be proud of him. There was nothing left for you on the surface, no one who you cared about or cared about you, but underground you had this connection with everyone you met.

Jimin was definitely avoiding you and you were worried as to why. He left you notes saying the fish had been fed and he was already at dance practice and that he was practicing for the night of the children. Hoseok and Namjoon explained that the night of the children was a feast in honour of when the elvish children that the Almighty had taken were returned safely. It was the anniversary of the reuniting of families. 

Each of the children who had been taken  participated in the celebration and Namjoon was dreading it. You were dressed in a beautiful violet coloured robe and as you walked into the feast just like last time, you were sat at the head of the hall. At a big table, alone. 

The dancers came out, some of the elves looking nervous. Seokjin was sweating, standing oddly with his arms in a twist, but once the music started and they all started dancing their moves telling the story. 

The elves twisted and turned in fabrics of sweet colours, they were swept up by other dances in black and dragged off stage, Jimin among them. When the other elves returned they danced and scattered off the small stage and Jimin walked out, his cream robes slowly falling as he went, revealing a thinner inner robe of black and he danced a solo, expressing his loneliness and sorrow.

You were crying, wiping your eyes with Lady Adora’s silk handkerchief, you watched as all the elves came back onto the stage and bowed. It hurt to see Jimin in pain, it was worse than losing your own family and perhaps Yoongi was right. When you love someone, they become your most important thing and right now, Jimin felt like the only thing you cared about. Without thinking, you spoke up. “I choose Jimin.”

They all seemed shocked, including Jimin who looked like he was about to pass out. You didn’t know whether he was excited or scared. You hoped he wouldn’t hate you for it, you really liked him and it was becoming clear how much he meant to you. 

If he could love you as well, you would be happy. Of course, if he said he didn’t want to be with you or seemed uneasy, then you wouldn’t force him. They all froze and you blushed self consciously, it felt like you had just declared your love for Jimin.

“I mean if you want to, that is?” You flushed, and he bowed looking confused.

“I would be honoured.” His hands were shaking and his face was heating up and you requested that he sit next to you at dinner.

It was odd. Jimin was still distant and you were trying to see him Very early one morning, you got up early and knocked on his door. He answered, seeming tired and he looked at you. “I am here to see my fish.” He nodded, allowing you in and you walked through his house to the backyard where the fish ponds were, watching him race off down the hall. You knelt by the fish pond, feeding them tiny pinches of food. You spoke softly to the fishes, looking for any sort of sign. “Has he said anything to you guys?”

Jimin reemerged dressed and hair brushed, you smiled softly watching him contemplate something internally as he watered the flowers. Tugging lightly on his sleeve and stealing his attention once more. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“I um, wanted to know why you chose me?” He asked softly. You had noticed his habit of running his fingers through his hair a lot, and right now was no exception.

“I chose you because, as I said the other day, you are my friend, Jimin,” you answered honestly and his face fell, “I had taken my time to get to know the other elves, but since I met you we got along and since then have been running into each other often. You are kind and gentle. Out of all of the people in that room, you were the one I considered my dearest friend, and if there was anyone I would want to spend the rest of my life with, it would be you.”

“I thought you said that you didn’t mean to be intimate, you were just being friendly.” He seemed a little bitter about those words. You hadn’t realized that’s how he would interpret them that afternoon.

“Wait, you stopped hanging out with me because of that?” Your mouth fell open.

“You were flirting with me, you kissed my cheek and practically declared your interest in me when you chose me at the flower festival dance and you even came to my house to feed the fish and you touched my ear, what was I supposed to think!” He rampaged. “You then, after leading me to believe that you liked me a lot, told me that it was all a mistake and you wanted to just be friends.”

“No, I meant that I didn’t know the actions were seen as intimate and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, so I told you I was being friendly at the time,” you huffed, standing in front of him, looking up at him exasperated, “not that I wasn’t falling in love with you. Cause I was falling in love with you and I got scared that my stupid actions would weird you out and drive you away. But then you disappeared, ignoring me and I realized how much I missed you and wanted to be with you for eternity. I realized that your life means more to me than my own. Because I love you so much, it scares me.”

“You love me?” He paused, eyes wide and you nodded, your throat dry, making it unable to speak. He suddenly came forward, cupped your face and kissed you desperately, like he had been waiting an eternity and you clutched his robes, not wanting him to let you go. He pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours, “I know I am not like the other guys, I have no fortune and I am not noble, but I will do everything to serve you and make you happy.”

“The fact that you care so much for me already means I made a good decision.” You smiled. “As long as you want to marry me as well, there is nothing in this world that can stop us.”

“You are going to have to learn how to dance for our wedding.” He grinned cheekily.

“I made you a bouquet, it is tradition. I hope you like them, they remind me of you,” Jimin began, explaining all the flowers and the reasons behind why he chose them. It was so early in the morning, but he had to give you the flowers before you were all dressed up, so it would be a surprise when you walked down the aisle.

“The little white ones mean innocence and purity.” He smiled pointing them out.

“The baby’s breath,” you nodded, waiting for him to continue, eyes scanning the bouquet for any other flowers you recognized. However, when he failed to continue his explanation, you lifted your gaze, suppressing a giggle. “It’s just what we call it, because it’s small and soft like the breath of a baby.”

“Oh, that does make sense,” he hummed and you pointed at the bright yellow Dahlias that highlighted the bouquet and he blushed. “This one represents a commitment shared forever by two persons, like marriage.”

“I love them Jimin. Thank you.” 

Jimin blushed and scurried off with his ears red. You were feeling giddy with excitement. If someone had told you two months ago, while trying to find a place to live, you would get married to a beautiful young man with a heart of gold - well, you would’ve outright laughed in their face. 

The ladies were practically squealing at the encounter between Jimin and yourself, but quickly sent him away as they had to get you ready. After all that he left with the bouquet, but the ladies said they would retrieve it later, once you were completely ready. You were soaked in a warm bath filled with soft flower petals and they began scrubbing you down completely.

“My lady Almighty, can I ask you a question?” You turned to the woman brushing through your hair, it seemed almost comical how many young elvish maidens were helping you get ready. They were all excited and trying to keep you calm, as today was the big day and she was smiling softly. Dressed in a soft sunset pink and each looking stunning. “Why did you choose Jimin? Is it because he is a good dancer?”

“If it were me I would have chosen Jungkook.” Another woman grinned.

“I think it was because he was nice and gentle. I saw him in the marketplace. He was kind and helped one of the other dancers who had fallen. It was very nice of him.” You smiled softly, “And then, he truly is an amazing dancer and he is really beautiful, he seems to be perfect inside and out.”

“We have never really seen him in this light, we apologize,” the woman said, twisting your hair into a beautiful updo, “I guess we were more focused on status and money.”

They helped you into your shoes and led you to the mirror. You gasped and tried to hold back the tears. You were wearing a beautiful white midriff top that had no sleeves and the fabric in the middle had been twisted to give a sweetheart effect. It was lined with a gold lace trimming and matched with what could be likened to the cutest pair of panties which were also white and gold. Then you were wrapped in the white silk with gold trimmings, twisted and tied in a way you had no idea how to create or get out of it. It made you feel ethereal.

The ladies were talking excitedly about how you looked so beautiful and how they couldn’t wait to see you get married. They were all giving you tips and revealing secrets about what elf men liked and disliked. You appreciated the help, never having the opportunity of dating an elf on the surface.

They were telling you about how an elf’s ears were sensitive and ways to use it to your advantage and you were a blushing mess remembering your encounters  with Jimin and the almost encounter with Yoongi. 

They started talking about the prospect of a child and how many you wanted to have, and when you honestly answered about always wanting a big family, maybe four or five at the minimum, they were shocked. 

“So many!” They squealed. “You are a promiscuous little minx!”

You blushed, giggling with the girls. They told you all about traditions and customs and different aspects of their little world. They were happy about being enclosed underground and part of you could agree, they were safe and protected from the harsh world and all the cruel people who lived in it. 

Like the drunk driver who killed your parents, leaving you orphaned and homeless overnight. Like the people who you thought were your friends, but eventually faded away making excuses to drive you away as it was embarrassing to hang out with someone who was homeless.

No, here everyone was part of a community.They worked together and you never wanted to leave. Not because they treated you so highly. No, it was much simpler than that, because they treated everyone with such kindness.

There was a knock at the door and the ladies all left quickly. You wondered who it was now, heart beating rapidly in your chest at the thought of the ceremony starting soon, taking deep breaths, trying not to think of the people that would watch you walk down the aisle or say your vows. Trying not to think about the possibility of Jimin saying no and you being forced to leave this beautiful paradise.

Shutting out all the thoughts you concentrated on Jimin’s declaration, “He wanted to make you happy.” Someone called your name and turning, you were met by two men, human men dressed in black business suits. “Come with us.” They grabbed you by the upper arms and began escorting you from the room and outside towards the elevator.

You were being forced to leave. Jimin smiled bashfully, you were a vision of beauty and felt his breathing hitch, stolen from him by your very being. “I am sorry, I forgot to give you the flowers…” It was then that he noticed you were being dragged away and he felt his heart break. Had he angered the Almighty, you were being taken from him. No, you couldn’t leave, you were supposed to be here for the rest of your life, happily married, but here you were, being ripped from his life. 

“Wait for me,” you pleaded as the doors to the elevator closed. It was a long journey back to the surface and you tried to keep your cool. Hoping you could return, it wouldn’t do to cry and ruin your makeup, it was your wedding day. Hopefully it could still be your wedding day. Crap. Now you really were crying.

No one seemed to understand that you didn’t want to leave. They were all apologizing that you had to go down there and you were feeling more and more annoyed as time passed by. You shuffled your bare feet, they felt cold against the linoleum flooring. They offered to get you some slippers, but you refused.

“You have to sign the non-disclosure agreement and then you are free to leave, but never speak of it to anyone,” the man said, gesturing to the paper. “Look, we will even give you all the  money you want, buy you a small home and give you anything you wish for. Just sign the paper.”

“I don’t want to leave, let me go back,” you pleaded. The man looked shocked, but that was it. You had thought they would finally let you leave, but it was after another thirty more minutes of questionnaire that they considered allowing you to go back down, and thirty more minutes for them to agree to it being permanently. 

“Alright, you can go back down, but we will revisit this case with the higher ups and they will make the final decision.” They sighed.

You were free to return. 

There was no escort, you headed back down alone. You looked at the mirror, everything was still as it was, not a hair out of place and you were glad the elves preferred soft and subtle makeup. That way, eyeliner and mascara weren’t really included - otherwise your face would have been streaked and stained with dark streaks.  

Once you reached the underground, you rushed out of the elevator; it was raining, a cold artificial rain, you running through the streets, still wearing your white dress as you called his name. Everyone poked their heads out to see what was going on. 

You frantically searched for Jimin, looking for any sign of him. Ripping off your shoes in the process as they had gotten stuck in the mud. Hope was dwindling - where could he be? - as the last resort was the wedding venue, and you ran to the courtyard out the front of the palace. 

There were empty seats with ribbons of white and gold, the aisle was long and you raced down, the petals sticking to the bottom of your bare feet. There he was. Waiting at the altar alone, a bouquet of white and gold, waiting patiently as you had asked of him. 

You ran to him, grabbing him by the collar without a second to hesitate and pulling him into you for a searing kiss. Or two. Or three. Apologising between kisses for having to leave.

“I am here and I love you. Let’s get married.” You grinned as he smiled. Lady Adora ran out into the rain, soon followed by more elves, each getting soaked. The two of you exchanged rings and he took your hand into his, saying his vows and you said yours. Lady Adora announced you married and guided you both out of the rain into the palace where a feast had been prepared. You were bathed and redressed into another outfit as you had been all muddy.

This had given who? time to cook and decorate, and when you stepped out again, Jimin was immediately by your side. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms and led you in a sweet dance. It seemed for his own benefit that he kept you close like he was consoling himself from the idea of losing you.

After a feast and dancing, Jimin took your hand and escorted you from the palace ballroom and to a room. He explained that Lady Adora had prepared it for the two of you to share for as long as you wished. He unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal a beautiful room, even more glamorous than the one you had previously stayed in. With soft white rugs and romantic flower petals strewn across the floor and fresh fruits and soft looking blankets. It all looked so warm and cozy.

But now you were hit with nerves, growing shy. You looked up at Jimin in all his beauty, “I um, don’t know how to undo this dress, they tied the fabric and I-” Jimin slowly stepped forward, watching your reaction. It was like your heart was going to explode out of your chest with how heavy it was beating. Your breathing was so shallow that when his hand cupped your cheek you felt your head spin. 

“You look so beautiful.” His hand gently took the fabric and undid the ties. You caught the dress right as it was about to fall off and blushed. Your hands were shaking with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

“Are you going to undress as well?” Jimin blushed and started undoing his own attire. He walked you to the bed, all the while you clutched the fabric of your dress. He gently placed his hands on yours and let out a soft chuckle. He undressed you from the fabric and looked at the sweet undergarments you adorned.

Releasing a shaky breath, he smiled up at you. “You are beautiful and I am nervous.”

“I am shaking, I am so scared.” You giggled “I am scared that you will realize that you don’t want me and leave.”

“I could never leave you. I want you. Trust me.” He took your hand, placing it against his bare chest and you could feel his heart beating just as fast as yours. “I love you and this heart is now yours to keep.”

The first kiss was intense, full of passion and fire and you buried your hands in his hair playfully, brushing your thumbs across the tips of his ears.

If you thought taking off the dress was difficult, then putting it on in the morning was an even bigger struggle. You ended up having to ask for Jimin’s help. He blushed at your request, making you laugh. For he was now your husband and you had just woken up after your wedding night. But it was redressing that felt more intimate to you both.

You were embarrassed, the whole community was present in the palace hall for a celebratory breakfast. It seemed Lady Adora was ashamed that the plans for the wedding ceremony had fallen through. They showered you with gifts and the food was beautifully presented. Each family bowed and presented you with their offerings and well wishes. 

You spent most of the morning proceedings, fiddling with the ring on your hand, it was so shiny and delicate. With two entwining silver bands that in the right light reflected a barely there iridescent green the bands were shaped to look like ivy wrapping around a beautiful round yellow tourmaline.

It looked like a beautiful flower atop vines, and you were in love, there hadn’t really been time to admire the ring in the rain, but now you couldn’t stop looking at it, getting lost in the colours. Jimin’s hand gently laid atop yours, bringing you back to the present. It seemed the people were waiting for you. Jimin repeated the question quietly to you under his breath. “They are asking if you would like to stay in the palace or if you would like them to build you a more elaborate home.” Gently pressing his lips to your jawline, you nodded, pretending to be contemplating the question and not daydreaming. 

Jimin let out a bit of a giggle when he heard you hum. “Everything has been wonderful, and I would rather live in the palace amongst everyone, it is a piece of history.”

Lady Adora seemed pleased by this response and announced they would clean and refurbish the best room for you. The day was filled with choosing different fabrics and furniture styles, Jimin liked the more natural and floral themed items, especially the golden dahlias. As the room came together, it became the flower of the palace, the garden beds in the town square all filled with golden dahlias.

Custom clothes had been made for Jimin and yourself, pale gold robes embroidered by the dahlia. You thought the elves would get sick of the novelty, but they loved it as much as you did, the flower held such a wonderful meaning to you. 

The elves spent their days playing music, dancing and making sculptures or other art, they told stories and practiced using their special energies. You enjoyed watching Jimin practice healing, seldom bored as he practiced shirtless. He caught you staring most of the time and puffed out his chest proudly and you thought he’d started to do it purposefully. 

Jimin taught you how to meditate - it felt kind of silly at first but soon you grew to like it, just sitting in the room alone with your thoughts. It gave you time to process all your uncertainties and even encouraged you to talk about them to Jimin. 

You told him how you’d lost your parents, opening up about your life and he smiled, kissing your temple, telling you everything happens for a reason, that you were brought to him for a reason. He told you that he, too, had lost his parents and that fate must have chosen you both considering your past, so you could heal together. It was a lovely sentiment and you started to believe it. There were so many aspects of your situation that were crazy and unbelievable, from an underground city to elves, magic and marriage. If ever there was a time to think about fate it was now.

It had been the best few months of your life and if you could go back and do it all again you wouldn’t change a thing. Jimin woke you with kisses pressed to your shoulder blade, making you giggle. 

“Morning.” He smiled, you turned to him, admiring his beautiful features in the glow of the fake sun.

“What are your plans for today, my love?” You brushed some of the tendrils of hair from his face; he braided his hair for sleeping, but every morning there were always some pieces that fell out.

“Well, I thought we could go for a walk, perhaps have a picnic and if it’s not too late, we can swim at the waterfall,” he grinned before sitting up and wrapping himself in his robes, “If it’s too late, well, then we will have to swim at the waterfall now, won’t we?”

“So either way we are swimming at the waterfall?” you scoffed, standing up and dressing for the day, and he helped you tie the robe as he smiled cheekily.

“No, if it’s too late, we can’t swim at the waterfall. We will have to swim at the waterfall.” He stressed the words differently the second time and you raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he is implying.

“Enlighten me on the difference?” You watched his grin stretch wider, clearly you had played into his hand.

“Well the difference my dear, would be the dress code.” He slinked off elegantly across the room, gathering the hair brush, ready to style his hair for the day. You looked after him, mouth hanging open, about to call him out on his daring nature when the door burst open, revealing Taehyung looking nervous.

“The Almighty, they are here and they are asking for Y/n.” You felt sick. Why were they here and asking for you? Why were they ruining this?

“What do they want?” Jimin urged Taehyung, sounding a little hostile. You took Jimin's arm, gently squeezing his bicep, trying to calm and reassure him.

“Everything is fine, let me talk to them,” you said as you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading out of the palace out of the courtyard. You were escorted out of the town by Taehyung and up the small hill towards the elevator. They were waiting for you, you growing nervous as you turned to Taehyung. “I want to speak with them alone, if something goes wrong I won’t let you get hurt. Tell Jimin, if I don’t return, to go to the waterfall.”

“Y/n?” Taehyung spoke worriedly and you smiled, waving him off. He reluctantly left you to speak with the men in suits.

“Hello Gentleman, what can I do for you?” You smiled.

“We spoke with the higher ups, they don’t want humans down here.” The man said. “I am sorry, I am going to have to take you back up, you can’t stay down here.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you gestured to the elevator and when they turned to it, you ran into the forest, hoping for shelter in the dense trees. However, from the loud gunshots and the stabbing heat in your side, you weren’t quick enough. You tried to keep running, you just had to make it to the waterfall. Jumping off the cliff and landing in the water, you felt the pain radiate through you at the impact, and you took a deep breath and swam under the water into the tunnel to the cave.

Once inside, you dragged your form out of the water and laid on the smooth rock, waiting for help. You grew cold as the night fell and you were losing hope. You held on as long as you could, but eventually, you fell unconscious.

The cold was replaced with warmth, a pleasant heat that took away the pain. You felt it fill you until you felt like you were in a little incubator. You felt tingling sensations in your chest, stomach, head, eyes, ears, everything felt like you were floating.

When you woke, you were still in the cave and Jimin was sitting there, his hands outstretched and glowing over your stomach. His chest was shaking and even though his eyes were closed you saw the tears dripping, and heard his sniffles. You reached out, surprised that you didn’t feel pain, and sitting up, you saw your wound had healed.

“Jimin,” you called, and he blinked, looking at you relieved, lunging for you to give you kisses, his hands buried in your hair. His thumb brushed affectionately by your ear and you pulled back surprised. There was this feeling in your chest and stomach, a fluttering sensation just from him brushing your ear. “What is it?”

“Well, I um, I haven’t ever healed a human before, my power heals injured elves to the optimum elvish form. And well, it healed your body to the ultimate elvish form,” he said slowly and you shivered, the feeling still tingling from touching your ear. “I am sorry.”

“Wait, so I am an elf?” you asked, examining his expression for any form of jest or lie, but there was none; he was serious. You tried to process it further: what did this mean, being an elf? “So I am an elf?”

He nodded, you were so shocked you couldn’t formulate your thoughts and feelings into any further actual questions. “Your body is now elf.”

“So I have pointed ears,” you tried to address the obvious and then you asked the question you were most scared about, “will I age differently?”

“You will live the life span of an elf, so several thousands of years, your body will act like an elf, grow habits like an elf,” he bowed his head lower, “I am so sorry, you are no longer an Almighty.”

“Don’t be sorry, this way we can live out our lives together at the same pace.” You kissed him, rubbing your nose to his affectionately, “I am sure I can learn everything as we go. The most important question is; do you still love me even though I am not special?”

“Not special? You will always be special to me, and honestly your features have been enhanced by the transformation, but not altered. You are still an exotic beauty,” he smiled cheekily. “You could look like a troll and I would still love you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and the two of you swam from the cave and emerged from the water. It was night time. You took Jimin's hand in yours as you headed for the town. The men were waiting and they raised their guns at you. 

“You cannot stay here, it is time to leave,” the man commanded.

“I can’t leave, I am an elf now,” you raised an eyebrow, “they will notice my differences in aging.”

“We have orders, and if you do not come willingly, we will shoot you.” You didn’t and you froze in pain; amongst the pain, you felt your skin crawl oddly and the muscles contract until you felt something pushing out of your skin. 

It was a painful process, but you were healing yourself and you looked at Jimin who looked worried. 

“I’m not leaving, so you can pack up and get out of here.” You grinned and they nodded, leaving with a warning. 

It was an empty threat as you were never bothered again. With Jimin eternity seemed easy, and you couldn’t wait for the years awaiting you. Falling in love was a fairtrade to never seeing the daylight again.

If you enjoyed this story don’t forget to Like | Reblog so others can enjoy it too.

[dwellordream]

“…Many readings of Troilus and Criseyde suggest that Criseyde occupies a masculine space in the narrative that is vacated by Troilus through his courtly love behavior – certainly in the first three books of the poem, and perhaps the fourth as well, since there, Troilus is rendered passive in the parliament, in the bedroom, and in his inability to affect any change of circumstance, or even to change Criseyde’s mind. Perhaps more useful, however, is recognizing Criseyde as offering up an alternative, female masculinity. Speaking of the Wife of Bath, Karma lochrie implies that Chaucer challenges ideas of masculinity, noting “by placing masculinity, with its ties to authority, commerce, violent mastery, social mobility, and publicity, ‘up for grabs,’ the Wife performs an alternative masculinity.”

Given that Criseyde is already, to misquote Chaucer’s Franklin’s Tale, “lord in love” (5.793), the possibilities for her offering up an alternative masculinity that extends beyond the boundaries of the romance plot into the epic and thus bring her into what lochrie calls the “world of marital rivalry, textual contestation, and sexual struggle” come to the fore. Criseyde’s authority in romance is unsurprising: the lady is conventionally constructed as the locus of power against the vulnerability created by the male lover’s desire. For all her seeming anxiety about the love affair, Criseyde appears to be the far more experienced, active lover, another function of her widowhood. If Troilus’s inactivity prevents him from showing a “mannes herte,” Criseyde’s composure suggests that she possesses one.

The overarching narrative conventions of romance render her masculine in these first books, provided readers proceed from the shreds of definitions of masculinity that Chaucer offers up. However, once the war reasserts itself within the narrative, and epic takes over from romance, the reading of Criseyde as “tendre-herted, slydynge of corage” (5.825) tends to dominate readers’ understanding and thus becomes the source for both condemnation and sympathy. The image of her “with women fewe, among the Grekis stronge” (5.688), with all its implicit threat, becomes a symbol of a reclaimed feminine isolation and vulnerability.

This reading ultimately negates Criseyde, rendering her formless and passive, which the poem quietly but steadily refuses to do. Understanding Criseyde as entirely vulnerable and useless, unable to escape her father and prey to the dangerous advances of powerful men, is to make her, in Mary Behrman’s words, “much less interesting. Stripped of any motives of her own, Criseyde becomes a mere automaton, and the readers’ interests switch to the men who manipulate her.” Criseyde is either “the tale’s victim or its villain.” She can be read as a simple traitor to love, who should have chosen death over dishonor (or Diomede) when circumstances refused to allow her to return to Troy, but while many readers have done so, the poem suggests a more complex course: it reveals her as condemned not because she is “slydynge of corage,” but because she acts in self-protection, choosing the most powerful figure around as her protector in Greece as she had in Troy, denying certain elements of her own desires to do so.

Thus, Criseyde’s failure in Troilus and Criseyde comes not from her rejection of her position as the masculinized lady created by the romance genre, but in her at least partially successful attempt to preserve it, even within the epic narrative of war. Halberstam’s definition of masculinity is essentially epic, noting that it seems to “extend outward to patriarchy and inward into the family”; that it “represents the power of inheritance, the consequences of the traffic in women, and the promise of social privilege”; that it inevitably “conjures up notions of power and legitimacy and privilege”; and that it “refers to the power of the state,” she could be describing the gendered dynamics of Troilus and Criseyde. By maintaining her active, self-determining position within the war, instead of accepting the feminine vulnerability that brought about her trade in the first place, Criseyde attempts to save herself, if not her reputation.

Throughout the poem, Criseyde’s portrayal creates a tension between passive construction and self-determined action; she is pulled between the roles that the text’s genres create for her and the contradictory actions the poet allows her to take, which, to increase confusion, are often a product of the very roles they seem to countermand. Part of the difficulty arises from the ways that Criseyde is defined by the passive femininity conveyed by her status as solitary widow and romance lady. Indeed, Gretchen Mieszkowski views her as “substanceless, ... a lack” in her position of the “lady of courtly love” and adds that “she responds to others; she does not act herself. She stands for no independent values. She is Western woman: supportiveness without content, and absence of being, the Other, sheer responsiveness, no one at all.” Chaucer certainly opens up the possibility of reading Criseyde as passive femininity through the emphasis on her solitude, although this, too, is ultimately ambiguous.

Her fear, which by Book 5 comes to be an essential texture of her portrait, makes her vulnerable, while her role as desired object also renders her passive and observed, tied to the conventions of love. Yet ironically, her fear causes her to act as much in Book 5 as in Book 1, and it is her position as romance heroine that provides her with a kind of subjectivity and authority in the love relationship that does not completely vanish at the point of consummation but continues to inform her actions – and Troilus’s expectations – in Book 4. Even her widowhood is an ambiguous symbol of passivity and activity. Widowhood is a kind of solitude, as we see in Chaucer’s repeated use of the word “alone” to describe Criseyde, but it also provides an opportunity for women to be free of male control, a status she later calls to the reader’s attention.

…This picture is further complicated by the reintroduction of her anxiety; she is “Wel neigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere” (1.108). Yet this very fear, which would seem to render her inert, does the opposite; taking control of her situation, she allies herself with the most powerful, most masculine figure the poem offers, Hector, the prince of Troy. Always a warrior, never a lover (his wife, Andromache, never enters the text), Hector occupies one of the few uncom-promised spaces. Edward Condren sees Criseyde’s plea here as an attempt at seduction; in abandoning “her passivity to lay her helplessness before Hector,” she aims to cast him as her lover.

Although this argument is somewhat unconvincing, Condren’s analysis remains suggestive: if Criseyde is indeed making this ploy, she is casting herself in the male role. After all, Blamires reminds us, “that, since men ‘do’ the deed in sex and pursue women, then women are recipients not agents where sexual activity is concerned.” Readers of Chaucer are aware from the Book of the duchess that the male lover casts himself at the lady’s feet crying “Merci”; of course, Troilus and Criseyde offers this formula as well. So in her mixture of passivity and activity – Condren agrees that “this sequence ... remains the only act planned and executed by Criseyde herself”– she mirrors two male activities.

Of the two, however, her active choice to connect herself to Hector bears greater implications for understanding Criseyde’s masculinity in the poem. Berhman points out that Criseyde “admires men of action, men like heroic Hector who value their individuality and refuse to let challenges daunt them.”Her vision of Troilus as war hero causes her to fall in love with him, not any admiration for the passive lover who writes the letter and whom Pandarus represents. The Troilus she sees is “a knyghtly sighte” (2.628). To look on him is “to loke on Mars, that god is of bataille” (2.630); he is further described as “so like a man of armes and a knight / He was to seen, fulfilled of heigh prowesse” (2.631–32). Troilus here appears at his most Hector-like, which the people’s cry, “‘Here cometh oure joye / And, next his brother, holder up of Troye!’” (2.643–44), firmly cements in Criseyde’s mind.

…That she ends up loving Troilus does not negate her acknowledgment of her own active will in her choice; she is not simply the objectified lady of romance. Even when the romance constitutes her as passive and desired, the immobile object of her dream of the eagle in Book 2, Criseyde “certainly does not view herself as a passive person” on whom meaning is imposed. Again, the reader is confronted with a tension between Criseyde’s fear and her self-determining force. At this moment, her understanding of her widowhood as a complex position is also revealed. The role of modest widow suggests a kind of isolation, if only a social one that allows singing and reading with her ladies, and Criseyde’s dark clothing “evokes both the idea of Criseyde’s vulnerability and the visual sign of her personal loss” and testifies “to the reality of human mortality and mutability,” while emphasizing her “state of being alone and vulnerable.”

It also suggests a possible availability: “the role [of modest widow] is not compatible with a sexual relationship, but it is compatible with the platonic segment of the lady-role, which Pandarus bullies Criseyde into accepting.” Yet in her widowhood, Criseyde sees her own freedom: “I am myn owene womman, wel at ese,/I thank it God – as after myn estat,/Right yong, and stonde unteyd in lusty leese, Withouten jalousie or swich debat./Shal noon housbonde seyn to me ‘Chek mat!’ For either they ben ful of jalousie,/Or maisterfull, or loven novelrie.” (2.750–56) Her recognition that widowhood provides self determination because it frees women from the hierarchies of the sexual economy causes Criseyde to ask “‘Sholde I now love, and put in jupartie / My sikernesse, and thrallen libertee?’” (2.773–74), noting that in love, “‘we wrecched women nothing konne’” (2.781).

In contrast to the earlier presentation of widowhood as fearful solitude, here it becomes an active, powerful position that allows for self-determination and self- construction. Criseyde’s chess metaphor reveals her masculine agency again: while “Criseyde’s allusion to chess also reveals that she thinks of herself in martial terms,” allying herself with the powerfully masculine figures of Hector and Troilus in their warrior guise that has just been presented to her, it also shows the potential for the female to take on masculine traits of mobility, power, and central importance. Or, as Jenny Adams comments, “a reader/player, who sees himself or herself as a piece on the board, must take responsibility for his or her own ethical conduct”; therefore, the player becomes responsible for her own actions rather than perceiving herself as acted upon.

In chess, the queen is the most versatile piece, able to move in all directions and any number of squares, while the king is limited to a single square’s movement, and his capture loses the game. Indeed, the king is a quite feminized figure in chess; he runs and hides behind the castle, and if he must start moving around, the player is in trouble. If widowhood allows Criseyde to assume the metaphoric position of a chess queen, it also allows her to win within a metaphor equally suited to love and to war, the two worlds of Chaucer’s poem. In the romance world, Criseyde claims the power available to romance heroines. This power may ultimately be a conventional fiction providing no real autonomy, but it remains inscribed in the story as a given. Criseyde is aware of and seems to enjoy some of these elements of power while understanding the difference between them and the more “real” autonomy of her widowhood.

Criseyde adds to the powers of romance a self-determining factor. The contrast between the two lovers’ decisions are striking; “while Troilus performs his unconditional surrender in a soliloquy, Criseyde negotiates a contract in front of a witness, fixing the rights and duties of both parties.” Blamires calls this a radical disruption of the “passive/active assumption in the scenes of courtship of Criseyde,” and in so doing alerts readers to the shifting nature of gender within the love narrative. In establishing the terms under which she will agree to love Troilus – that her honor and reputation will be protected – Criseyde again defines the terms of her consent – and does so publicly, thus in the masculine realm. That these guarantees ultimately fail does not detract from Criseyde’s self-determination, but from its ability to function within the assumptions of the genres of the narrative. The irony of her desires – the protection of her honor and reputation – given the ending of the poem only serves to create greater tension between the roles Criseyde attempts to play and the boundaries the worlds of Troy and the Greek camp (as well as the boundaries of epic and romance) impose.”

- Angela Jane Weisl, “A Mannes Game”: Criseyde’s Masculinity in Troilus and Criseyde

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: Vanilla

Summary: A year on the run following the events in Siberia has changed Steve…but not too much. He’s still a man of simple tastes… Warning:  Language, SMUT (NSFW, 18+)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: This sits alongside SSB Ch 35: Not A Perfect Soldier, But A Good Man. I had it in my head for a while and couldn’t quite fit it in. And those of you who read “Leave No One Behind” might recognise a little of the scenery, so to speak.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

August 2017

Another day, another under-the-radar mission. This one breaking up a gang that had been terrorising locals, running guns and arms, raiding local refugee camps and kidnapping children to ship out to god knows where, for god knows what.

Frankly, it had knocked Katie sick, so she had been only too glad to get out of there once they’d ‘dispensed’ the ring leader into the care of Fury’s contacts. Well, by that they mean they’d left him hog tied in the middle of the African desert at the co-ordinates they had been given. What happened to him, well, even the world’s sentinel of justice, honour and truth couldn’t find it within him to give a shit. Not after what they’d just seen anyway.

Katie stole a glance at Steve as they drove the ‘borrowed’ jeep back to where Sam had landed their jet. Their time on the run had hardened him. Over a year now spent in shadows, and it was almost as if those shadows had claimed part of him for themselves. His hair was longer, far longer, usually worn pushed back off his face but the exertion of the fight they’d just had, left the front strands flopping over his sweaty forehead. His beard was dark, and thick, speckled with the odd bit of copper and blonde here and there, hiding his jawline entirely and leaving his face almost completely unrecognisable.

To the average man on the street he looked like just another person, maybe worthy of a second glance for bearing a passing resemblance, maybe, to the fugitive Captain. The one thing that remained unchanged were his eyes. Whilst they were tired, carried a heavier burden than before, they were still the same eyes Katie had noticed and fallen in love with, and they still flashed with warmth and a sparkle whenever he looked at her.

And as long as that was there, she knew he was okay.

They reached the jet, Sam hopped down from the back of the jeep and headed in first over to the coms system, swiping at the screen.

“Hey, Steve?” He turned to his head back over his shoulder. Steve walked up the ramp, looking at Sam expectantly. “Fury’s patched us through the co-ordinates of a place to stay. Looks to be a hundred or so miles North. Might be worth holding up there for the night?”

Steve hesitated for a while, they’d been running missions back to back now for almost three weeks. He was desperate to get back…well, home he supposed. To their cottage in Scotland where they’d holed up for the past twelve months, where Wanda was currently waiting. But, as he glanced around, Sam’s face was sporting a nasty gash above his eyebrows, Natasha had taken a few hard digs too and was clutching her side and Katie had taken a heavy blow to the face, the bruise already forming on her cheek.

They were tired, whacked, maybe it was best they got their heads down and headed back in the morning.

“Alright.” Steve nodded. “Bring it up on the map.” Sam pressed a few buttons and then the holo-display sprang to life. Steve and Natasha observed the image, Natasha pointing to something, Steve agreeing before he straightened up and looked at Katie and Sam who were waiting patiently. “We were just staying it looks like a good spot we can land the jet. There’s nothing for miles, and it’s coastal.” “Coastal?” Katie frowned, before her eyes lit up “Like, there’s a beach?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled, not bothering to point out that their cottage in Scotland basically had its own private one. “There’s a beach, Sweetheart.”

“It looks to be an old Diving Resort on the Red Sea.” Natasha mused, swiping at the screen. “According to Fury, one of his contacts in Mossad said they used it as a front for smuggling Jewish Refugees out of Ethiopia. Operation Brothers. You heard of it?”

Katie, Sam and Steve both exchanged glances before they shrugged.

“Not surprising, I think the information surrounding it was only declassified recently.” Natasha scratched her neck as she straightened up. “Long story short they saved thousands of lives. Smuggled refugees out of camps, and then shipped them out by boat back to Israel.”

“And they used a hotel as a front?” Katie arched an eyebrow.

“Diving resort.” Natasha nodded “Was fully functional too. Pretty damned clever if you ask me.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

“Fury wouldn’t tell us to head there if it wasn’t” Katie replied simply, “We can go, check it out. If we don’t like it we can head home.”

***** Sam landed the jet expertly on the beach which was hidden in a large cove. They stepped off the ramp onto the sugar white sand and Katie looked around at the various huts scattered along the shore. The main body of the hotel itself seemed to be boarded up. The four of them split up into two groups of two under Steve’s instructions, and made their way around, carefully, making sure there was no one else there, checking each out building thoroughly. Eventually they met one another at the front of the sandstone building, all nodding to signal that there was no sign of anyone else.

“The Red Sea Diving Resort.” Sam read the faded red lettering over the top of the boarded up entrance “Imaginative.”

Katie gave a scoff as she shook her head “Well I don’t know about any of you lot but I need to wash up and get changed. I’m disgustingly hot in this.” She pulled at the collar of her combat-top and turned to head back towards the jet. Steve caught her up, sliding an arm round her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“We haven’t forgotten.” Sam called from behind them. They both stopped and Katie glanced at Steve who met her puzzled look with one of his own.

“Forgotten what?” He asked as they turned to look at Sam.

Sam blinked, then turned to Natasha who gave a snort “Clearly they have.”

“Have what?” Steve pressed again, his tone slightly less patient than it had been.

“It’s your wedding anniversary you pair of dumbasses.” Sam snorted “God you two are…”

Clearly he couldn’t decide what it was that Katie and Steve were, instead he trailed off and headed up the ramp into the jet. Natasha followed him as Katie and Steve remained on the sand, simply looking at one another, before they both burst out into laughter.

“Oh my God.” Katie stuttered “We forgot!”

“Well, we have kinda been busy, Doll.” Steve teased, before he shook his head and smiled “I haven’t forgotten that day though. Happiest day of my life.”

Katie smiled, “Mine too.”

He gently raised her hand to his mouth, brushing her knuckles with his mouth before they too headed onto the ramp and grabbed their kit bags.

The four ex-agents walked down the sand, towards the huts they had checked earlier. They selected one each, the fact that Natasha and Sam headed a little further down the beach away from the one Steve had picked for him and Katie didn’t go unnoticed by the super soldier. Something Steve had noticed when he had looked around was how reasonably clean it was. He’d expected things to be covered in a layer of dust but it was fairly habitable. As Katie set about searching the drawers for something to make the bed with, he headed into the small bathroom at the back, turning the taps on. After an initial cough and a splutter, the system kicked in and the water began to run. Orange from sand and rust at first as it splattered the white porcelain bowl. Steve left it going whilst he moved back into the main room and saw Katie was holding what looked like an old polaroid photo.

“Look at this.” She smiled gently. “I found it when I was looking for some bed sheets.”

Steve glanced down at the photo which showed a tall dark haired, bearded man stood with his arm round a shorter, dark haired slim woman, both looking at the camera, smiling . At their feet sat, quite frankly, the ugliest dog Steve had ever seen. It was hairless, but he still couldn’t help but admit it was cute in a strange way.

“They must have been part of the team that ran the Mossad Op.” Katie shrugged. “He kinda looks a bit like you actually.”

“I don’t see it.” Steve wrinkled his face and she shrugged, moving to put the photo back in the drawer. “I found the bathroom, water is still running but not sure if it’s gonna be heated or…”

“I don’t need it heated.” Katie shook her head. “Frankly the colder the better. Now, help me get this bed sorted and then we can wash up and maybe we can spend what’s left of the Anniversary we forgot sat out on the sand?”

Steve chuckled, pulling her closer to him, both hands on her hips. He dropped his face to hers, catching her lips in a soft kiss. “Sounds good to me.”

After a quick shower each they headed back outside, where Sam and Natasha were already sat. And it turns out their friends were indeed far better at remembering their anniversary than they were. Along with their normal supplies, Sam had stashed a crate of beer on the jet, hidden in the cooler and Natasha had also managed a bottle of the same champagne they had served at the wedding, although instead of drinking it out of crystal flutes, it was sipped from mugs Natasha had dug out of the jet, which bore the Avengers symbol, a harsh reminder of the life they had all run from little over twelve months previously.

The four of them sat on the up turned logs, dotted around what, Steve correctly guessed, had been some sort of fire pit, talking quietly, watching the sun set over the ocean. It was peaceful and Steve felt like they could almost have been on vacation.

Almost.

Steve felt Katie sagging next to him and turned to see that she had her eyes closed, head resting on his shoulder. He placed a soft kiss to her head and then looked at the rest of his team. Sam’s head was drooping a little and Natasha’s eyes were heavy. He issued a soft instruction to go to bed and they both looked at him, giving him a nod and Katie stirred a little. In a graceful movement, Steve had swept her into his arms and he carried her, not unlike the way he had done two years ago that very night, to their accommodation for the evening. She sat on the edge of the bed, removing her shorts leaving her in her panties and tank top as she climbed under the scratchy sheets, Steve settling down besides her.

“Night sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing her neck as he pulled her to him, her back pressing into his chest.

“Night Soldier.” She whispered back, closing her eyes.

**** Steve turned over for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes. He couldn’t get comfortable, and then there was the simple, yet slight complication to the situation that he’d woken from a particularly graphic dream about their honeymoon, and now he was fucking horny as hell.

He rolled onto his back, his head turning towards Katie and his eyes scanned over her face as she slept. He took in the shape of her nose, soft curve of her lips and his eye-line flickered down to the swell of her breasts which were visible under the cami she was wearing.

Okay, so that wasn’t helping. At all.

She gave a soft sigh, moving a little, her legs kicking down the sheets slightly so they fell around her hips and that was the point Steve’s already fraying self-control snapped. Shuffling closer, he pressed his lips to hers, before he moved his mouth to her jawline, down her neck, leaving soft, hot kisses on her skin as he went. His hand gently curled around her hip, fingers digging into the flesh ever so slightly and she gave a little murmur, her eye lids fluttering as his lips moved back to hers. And this time, she reciprocated slightly. His lips dropped downwards, his tongue dipping into the hollow of her throat before his affections turned to her delicate collar bone. With a gentle shift of his body, he went even lower still, his calloused hands sliding along her ribcage as he slid her cami top upwards, exposing her breasts. His large hands cupped them, thumbs brushing over her nipples and at that he felt her really respond with a soft whimper, her back arching slightly into his touch.

With one hand he traced the curve of her hip down the outside of her thigh, before he trailed his fingers across her belly, and then her soft whimpers became a harsh gasp as his fingers entered her, curling softly against her insides, coaxing more and more wetness from her as he moved, his mouth continuing to lick and sucking at her breasts. She arched her back, writhing, desperately moving her hips as she sought out the friction she needed between her legs and Steve obliged, moving his hand so the heel of his palm brushed against her clit. With a strangled moan, which she stifled slightly by turning her head into his arm, she came, her body shaking on the mattress, sheets now pushed well out of the way.

Steve’s mouth claimed hers once more, in a searing kiss as he let out a groan of his own when he felt Katie dip her hand into his boxers, wrapping her hand around his achingly hard cock.  Every inch of him was on fire and he wanted her.

“Need you.” His voice was low with desire as he pressed his lips back to her neck, nipping at the spot beneath her ear. “Want you.”

“You got me.” She whispered. “I’m yours, Stevie.”

At her words he gave a low groan, sitting up slightly so that he could pull her underwear down. He wriggled out of his own, before he settled over her, his mouth finding hers again the pair of them letting out a shaky sigh and a moan each as he entered her.

Her hands gently slid down over his back, feeling the expanse of muscle which twitched under her finger tips as he moved, slowly, deeply. Every roll of his hips sent his pelvis rocking up against her spot. Katie glanced up at him, his lips kiss swollen, eyes blown with desire, hair falling forward over his forehead. She reached up to brush it back, her hands tangling in the long strands and she pulled his face down to hers, locking their lips in a sloppy, filthy kiss.

Fuck, Steve Rogers loved sex with his wife anyway he could get it, but this, well, he was a sucker for simple vanilla and Katie was too. There was something about this position, the boring missionary one that drove both of them wild. The way Steve could cage her in his arms, fuck her into the mattress one day or make love to her the next. The way his large frame engulfed hers completely surrounding her, filling each one of her senses.  The way he controlled the pace completely, driving into her again and again until she could no longer think straight. The way he controlled the depth, sometimes using his arms under her knees to hold her open, or slinging her legs over her shoulders.  

It was a plain, vanilla flavoured heaven. One that they could visit time and time again, and would never get bored of tasting.

Steve drove as deep into his wife as he could get, rotating his hips slightly whilst he was fully seated, causing her to gasp and emit a frankly sinful moan which he swallowed with his mouth. Her hands dug into the skin of his shoulder blades and he moved, grabbing her wrists and pulling them round so he could lace his fingers between hers. Pinning her hands either side of her head he picked up his pace slightly, carefully watching her face as he felt her tightening around him slightly, a tell-tale sign she was close.

“Come on, pretty girl.” Steve panted, his lips by her ear as he gave a soft nip to her neck. “Give it to me, baby.”

The sensation and heat which was building in her core was impossible to ignore. Her breathy pants of his name became faster, as did Steve’s movements, and with a last, broken cry of his name the fire exploded in her belly and she came, hard, her orgasm rolling over her in wave after wave of white hot pleasure, which left her boneless underneath Steve, her nails digging into the backs of his hands. The sensation of feeling her around him was enough, and Steve gave a single, strangled cry of her name as he too reached his peak, his hips faltering as the ribbons in his belly untangled, the pleasure spreading from the toes to the very hair on his head.

He pressed his face into Katie’s neck, placing another soft kiss to her pulse point which left his lips salty from the slight gleen of sweat which coated them both. He pulled back slightly, releasing Katie’s hands as she flexed her fingers, knowing full well what she wanted. And, sure enough, her fingers threaded through his long hair, scratching softly at the nape of his neck. His eyes closed, and the pair of them lay in silence, completely blissed out and relaxed, hearing only each other’s gradually steadying breaths which mingled with the sounds of the waves lapping against the shore outside.

Katie felt Steve’s lips press to her forehead and she smiled softly, opening her eyes to look straight into his, those baby blues spattered with green.

“Happy Anniversary, Gorgeous.” He muttered, his lips catching hers.

“Its past midnight.” She replied gently

“Not at home.” He replied softly, before he swallowed and hung his head. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

“Steve, I am home.” Katie looked at him, her hands moving to cup his face “My home is with you.” She guided his head down so that his lips met hers again, her hands gently tangling in his beard “It always will be, you know this.” She whispered against his mouth before she kissed him, deeply, wriggling a little. Steve gave a short grunt and she felt him starting to twitch inside her again. With an arch of her eyebrow she tipped her pelvis up and in a flash Steve had reached up, pinning her wrists down by her head.

“Keep going and imma be hard again in about five seconds flat.” He whispered, and Katie grinned.

“I’m counting on it, Soldier.” She smirked “Because I’ve got a hankering for some more plain old vanilla.”

**** Chapter 36 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[oddduckthatgirl]

A Smooth Sea Never Made a Good Sailor

A/N: just a little Henry x Reader for you all. Comfort and Fluff abound. Anything in italics in the readers inner monologue.

I don’t know if it’s any good but it’s getting me through a weird head space. Anyway, Part one below.

You blink into the dim room . You hadn’t slept at all. You’d think fourteen hours flying would wear you out. Guess not. Or the very warm, very loving man who had you pulled to his body could at least convince your brain to shut off.

Henry. Your anchor. The true north in a polarizing world.

You tried to let his warmth drag you under and keep you grounded. Not let that voice in your head win. You tried to shut it out as you looked at Henry’s peaceful face. You run your fingers through his hair and he sighs in his sleep. The dim light hits the diamond on your finger. The symbol of his promise of a future so brilliant and beautiful. He’s everything you’d ever dreamed of.

-How could anyone dream about you? You’re so broken. All he’s going to do is spend the time putting you back together. What a life. Who wants a wife they have to worry with constantly? Henry’s going to wake up one day soon and realize the mistake he’s made.-

You squeezed your eyes shut hoping to silence the doubt. But you felt the shift in your body. You couldn’t just lay here and let it win. You didn’t want to wake him just to have him piece you back together. You could do this yourself.

You slip carefully out of his arms. You notice a small frown on his face but surely it’s more because you moving made him uncomfortable. You wait until his expression relaxes and you find his discarded hoodie and slip it on.

As you try to make a quiet exit, you’re almost foiled by the Akita alarm. Kal sits up almost to say “and where do you think you’re going? You reach down and scratch behind his ears which seems to be enough for him to lay back down. Thank god; all you need is to wake Henry.

-That’s it. Just go. He didn’t even wake up. That’s how tired he is from taking care of you. This whole time you were back in the states was probably a vacation for him. -

You ran your hands over the kitchen counters. Then the sink. Cleaning always helped. If everything was perfect, then nothing could be wrong. The doubt wouldn’t be right about you.

Then your mom’s words came to mind “well it’s not like you’re the world's greatest cook. And you’re not exactly a cuddler. And he wants a family...you always said you weren’t cut out to be a parent. You think all that’s changed since you met him. He’s a nice man. He brings so much to your relationship. What do you bring?”

Order. Balance. Service. Effort. Love. That’s what you brought. If she could see these counters she’d see how perfect you can make it.

You got lost in the sound of grit of the cleanser against the surface of the sink. The water rinsing away the traces of the grime. You wanted to feel that sense of clean; the doubt to rinse away. Maybe that’s why his voice scared you.

“Darling, why aren’t you in bed? You must be exhausted. I felt you tossing before I must have drifted off.”

You took a deep breath to ground yourself before you turned to face him. You put the biggest smile on your face, “ oh I got a little nap in.”

Liar.

“you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you.”

He raised an eyebrow and walked toward you. You could feel your heart pounding as he looked at the counters. You tried to remain calm while he got himself some water. His eyes stayed on your face while he drank.

He knows. Everyone does. Broken, scared little girl.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

No, I’m swirling into a pit of despair. I just can’t say it. You’re probably tired of saving me, “I’m okay. Just the jet lag, you know. Makes me a little uh…..disoriented.”

He leans against the perfect counter, “you’re sure?”

Fuck no I’m not. It hurts to breathe and I need….something. Anything. Just don’t see me cry, “yeah. I’m good. Glad to be here. Really.”

He tilts his head in question.

Please let it go Henry, you silently beg. You’re hanging on by a thread. But you can get it sorted. You can do it yourself.

He carefully closes the space between you. He gently holds your face in his hands and rubs his thumbs over your cheek bones, “It is good to have you home,” he kisses your forehead and just above a whisper speaks, “tell me what’s going on in there. We both know you’re not okay.”

You close your eyes so they don’t betray you, “really. I’m just….” you grip his wrists to hold yourself in the moment.

“Y/N,” his fingers tracing small circles along your neck, “I’m right here.”

You feel one hot tear slip down your cheek. The crack in your armor exposed, you open your eyes and meet his blue ones.

The ones that you can see all the love for you in. All the concern. Wonder. Hurt. You can’t hold it now.

-There you go again. Weak pathetic girl. Go ahead. Let him resent you more. Bet he leaves you to wallow. Right here, you mean in his house. You’re a guest in his life.-

You can’t even recognize the sound you make. Something like a whimper. Your chin quivering as the tears fall. It’s like they’re searing into your skin, “I’m sorry,” escapes your lips between the sobs now taking over you. You feel like you could drift away at any moment, out into the expanse.

But you weren’t. Strong, steady arms held you against the waves of fear and panic. You clung to his body. There was no other safe harbor. The waves were too rough and threatened to pull you apart. Your hands clutching around his back, holding on for dear life.

“I’ve got you, love,” his hands smoothing over your back as the sobs wrack your body, “I’m here,” he pulls your head firmly against his chest, “let it out.”

The wailing sobs come forward. You’re not even sure you’re saying words. Your body aches. Your legs feel as though they can’t hold up. Your head hurts.

“Ssshhh now,” his soft sure voice reaches your ringing ears, “it’s alright,” the grip on your waist tightening. He won’t let you fall. He’s showing you how true that is, “just breathe Y/N.”

He cradles your head against his chest and you try to fight,” I…..hurts…..can’t,” broken words cried out between tears. Your body wants to push away.

His hold around your waist even more firm,”I know sweetheart. But you can. Just, try for me….please,”

-God, now he’s begging you to do a basic function and you can’t even get that right.-

Doubt screaming in your brain. Your ragged gasps for air can’t drown it out. The heat is overwhelming your body. The burning flames of it will surely cut the ties that keep you here.

Then there’s sudden cool running down your neck and now sliding down your back. Henry’s hands dripping with water trying to soothe you, “y/n listen to me, you’re getting overheated and starting to hyperventilate,” calm reasonable Henry, “ I can do a great deal of things for you but I can’t breathe for you. Please my love, listen to my voice.”

You grab his forearm weakly. You can’t raise your head. It’s too heavy. Your vision is out of focus. You close your eyes to try and focus. The feel of plush cushions beneath you forces you to open your eyes. Henry is kneeling in front of you. He had sat you down on the couch.

He shifts his hold to your neck. He puts his thumbs under your chin and lifts your head, “don’t try and speak. Catch your breath. I’ll catch the rest.”

And just like that the world stopped. Your eyes focus for a moment on his face. He doesn’t look angry or burdened. It’s nothing but concern. You slide your hands along his arms, physically anchored to him. You nod your head and try to take a full breath.

The sound of your breathing begins to drown out the doubt. The warmth of Henry’s hands make you aware of where you are.

“That’s it,” his voice barely above a whisper, “come back to me.”He wipes away the tears still wet on your cheeks.

You take a full breath. Your vision focuses and there’s quiet. You don’t trust your voice to be loud or full sentences. You drag your hands up his arms, along his neck and to his face. “Home,” is all you can manage.

He watches you as he pulls his hands away. He slides them to yours and takes your hands in his, “yes my love it is,” he kisses each of your knuckles. He can’t help but smile at your ring, “let’s go get you some water. Can you stand?”

You nod and let him help you to your feet. Your legs are still weak but you can move on your own. He still supports your body and keeps an eye on you. You lean against the counter top. He hands you a glass with a silent request.

“Not too quickly now y/n. Don’t want to make yourself sick,” he watches you for any sign of trouble. He pushes a stray section of your hair away from your face, “that’s my girl.”

He takes the empty glass from your hands and places it in the sink. He looks you over, tracing the dark circles under your eyes with his thumbs before he pulls you against him. He kisses the top of your head and runs his hand up and down your back, “you haven’t slept at all have you?”

“No,” you sniffle and rub your cheek against his chest. Your hands locked around him. You aren’t entirely sure you can completely hold yourself up now. The exhaustion is taking over every inch of your body. You just hope you can sleep before you’re too weak to fight off the darkness that is still lurking in your mind.

“Let’s get you to bed sweetheart. I have to insist you try to get a couple of hours in,” he can feel you sigh heavily against him.

“But bed is so far away,” you whine.

Without warning, Henry places his hands under your thighs and pulls your legs up to his waist. You lock your ankles around him and he holds you, “I’ve got you,” he whispers into your hair and he walks back up to your bedroom.

You feel your eyes sting with tears thinking of how many times just in the past few moments he’s shown you how much he has you. His love and dedication make your chest hurt.

“But for how long?”

He sits you down on the bed, covers still in disarray from earlier. Kal has since joined him at the side of the bed. You meet his eyes again and you feel the tears slip down your cheeks; in this state you can’t hold it in.

He wipes away the tears with his thumbs as he kneels before you, “what do you mean for how long?”

Your breath catches. Doubt apparently had taken over even your voice. You try and find the words to tell him what was going on. Your mouth opens but no sounds come out. It’s frustrating and terrifying to want to say it all but you can’t.

He sits down behind you and pulls you against him, “Kal, up with mum please,” a giant ball of fur and love is now pushed against your legs. Henry wraps his arms around yours letting you snake between his so you can feel him around you. He hooks his legs over your hips, grounding you to him and the bed. He can feel your breathing start to hitch.

“Y/N, none of that now,” he coos at you, “I’m right here with you and I will be for the rest of our lives,” he moves the ring on your finger, “in a few short months I’ll make that vow publicly and proudly,” he squeezes you softly so you can feel pressure all over your body.

You swallow down the sob but the tears still fall. You let your head fall back into his shoulder. You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the steady rhythm of his heart through your own body. You try to focus on him and do as he does.

He rests his chin on top of your head and gently rocks the two of you, “just try and relax now. You’re far too upset for anything you try to say make sense. We can talk later, I promise. Everything will be alright, my sweet girl.”

You don’t even have the energy to make a sound. Instead you close your eyes and let the tears come at will. Even with the roaring tide of doubt and fear, you’re still anchored to the shore. You’re home; safe. You feel soft blankets against your heated skin as a small grunt of discomfort escapes from you.

“Ssssshhhh,” he kisses your forehead, then traces your eyebrows with his fingers, a gesture you had told him calmed you as a little girl. You pulled yourself closer to him and felt the heaviness of sleep start to pull you to it.

When you open your eyes again, you find yourself alone in bed but firmly tucked in. You check the time and find it’s been nearly three hours. The smell of something being broiled fills your nose. Vaguely you can hear Henry talking which you assume means he and Kal are doing their utmost to help you feel better.

You manage to pull yourself out of bed; heaviness in every muscle as you head toward the sound of Henry’s voice. You decide to be as quiet as possible in hopes of catching him at work in the kitchen. The sight of it usually warmed your heart.

“No she’s still out Mum,” he’s on the phone, “she hadn’t slept. I know. Long flights just make it worse.”

You feel like you’re intruding.

“It’s just….it sounds awful...but she’s always so down after she talks with her family. And these couple of weeks in the States has put her all out of sorts…..yes that is HER mother but that woman always seems to find a way to make Y/N doubt everything. It breaks my heart.”

You blink back tears. It’s amazing how well he knows your moods. You step into his line of sight.

He flashes that wonderful smile, “it would appear Sleeping Beauty has had the curse lifted. I need to go. All right...I will...love you too.”

He rounds the island and kisses you. It’s soft and warm and everything you need, “morning sweetheart. Mum sends her love.”

You lean against the island as he tends to dinner, “I heard. Probably more than you wanted me to.”

“Oh,” he half turned to face you, “what exactly did you hear little one?”

-Part 2-

[flickeringart]

Sun conjunct Venus

(in the natal chart)

In a previous post I wrote about Mars conjunct the Sun. Mars is the polar opposite to Venus in many ways, he is the god of war, the symbol of masculine drive, energy, assertion, desire and sexuality. Venus is the goddess of love and beauty, pleasure and feminine sensuality. She is the Roman version of the Greek Aphrodite. There are different versions of the origin of the goddess and they illustrate a difference between the air and earth element of Venus.

In astrology the planet Venus is the ruler of Libra and Taurus. Aphrodite can be divided into two entities that spring from two different legends; Aphrodite Ourania (The heavenly Aphrodite) and Aphrodite Pandemos (Aphrodite common to all people). The heavenly godess was created through the foam of Uranus’ testicles that his son Kronos (Saturn) had thrown into the sea. In mythology Uranus is the heavenly father, representative of the transcendent thought scape, of sublime intellectual composition and lightness. It is from him that the aesthetic, artistic, balancing nature of Aphrodite could come into being. In astrology, Libra is the sign that relates to this ideal version of the goddess which has not yet materialized and left the perfection of the thought-scape. Aphrodite Ourania is a sophisticated and higher version of it’s earth polarity,

Aphrodite Pandemos could have been the daughter of Zeus (Jupiter) and his wife Dione. In any case, she is the common, materialized feminine principle that is concerned with pleasurable sensory experiences, possession of value (material and personal) as well as physical comfort.

The Venus placement in astrology is related to one’s values and preferences, one’s personal taste when it comes to perceptual experiences of art, clothes and design. It is also related to how one feels valuable as an individual and what one is attracted to in other people, how one shows affection and love. Like Mars, Venus is actually very selfish in it’s natural expression. It is concerned with individual likes and dislikes and is seeking to create pleasurable experiences for herself. This is an important function and a essential pillar for self-actualization. However, when Venus is placed in another sign than Libra or Taurus it she is forced to express herself in “distorted” ways. When Venus sits in the sign of Aries for example, she has to express her feminine qualities through a masculine sign. In Aries the goddess of love is dressed up as a warrior, wearing an armor to feel beautiful. Her tastes will be leaning in the direction of speed, physical fitness and performance, strength, will-power and uncompromising individualism. This will be the nature of her allure, her seductive powers. Although Venus may be colored by martial traits, she can never dress up enough to become the god of war. Venus will always be Venus at the end of the day and will represent ideal beauty in every person’s chart.

When the Sun is conjunct Venus the individuality is tied up with the goddess. The personality may be artistic and graceful, inclined to enter into relationships and win people over with charm. From a certain perspective, this role may be easier to play if one is a woman, largely because it is more socially accepted for a woman to embody Aphrodite. A man could just as easily do it but may for social reasons try to find a woman on the outside to express Venus for him. In any case, since the individuation process can’t be separate from the feminine principle, it has to come along on the journey toward self-development whether one is a woman or a man. Developing personal tastes and preferences plays a huge role in the Sun-Venus person’s life. One has to develop the self according to one’s own values and standards and refrain from self-sacrifice and people pleasing. Aphrodite is fundamentally pleasing for the purpose of serving her own interests of maintaining social admiration. Beauty is extremely important for a Sun-Venus person and one needs to feel beautiful through one’s own actions and appearance. This kind of person would love to be admired and noticed for their authentic expression of style and taste, or perhaps especially for their radiant and pure soul.

Since the Sun is tied up with the image of one’s father/father figures, one’s father might embody traits of the goddess by being loving and kind, socially graceful and pleasant. He might be very affectionate and soft in his manners while demonstrating an eye for aesthetics and care for his appearance. Sun-Venus undoubtedly indicates that the father is aware of the way he moves and conducts himself, how he presents himself to other people. He could have an interests in expressing himself artistically through painting, dancing or interior decorating to create a certain image of value and worth. He might be particularly sensitive to crudeness and ugly, messy or disturbing surfaces, whether it’d be that of a room, a person or a piece of clothing. Just like with any other planet, Venus has a shadow side, which will probably express itself along the lines of vanity and shallowness, insencerity and a low tolerance for imperfection.

To illustrate the Sun-Venus conjunction further, we’ll have a look at the famous Polish pianist and composer Frédéric Chopin (1810 -1849). He had his Sun-Venus in the universal water sign of Pisces in the 6th house of work and health. Pisces as a sign is connected to the emotional realm, dreams and visions. It loves to be channelled through music or other artistic mediums. According to Wikipedia, Chopin has been described as someone whose poetic genius was based on a professional technique that was without equal in his generation. As a child he displayed a musical skill that was the equivalent of an adult and some of his teachers realized that his skill exceeded their own.

The 6th house in astrology relates to the physical realm and the everyday mundane chores that has to be kept up with to guarantee optimal health and well-being. It is a house that is centered round the importance of ritual and routine to bring out the best in the individual. Chopin has no planets in the 10th house of career and public image which shows that fame and popularity was not his main aspiration. The Sun in the 6th house, in contrast to the 10th is more about meaningful activity that is in service of the individual. His Sun-Venus makes a square aspect to Midheaven, the cusp of the 10th, which would indicate some tension between his work and public activity. He much preferred to perform in private or in small spaces, to keep it intimate and personal. 

Through the 6th house we also encounter the subject of health. Chopin was not of a strong constitution and was prone to illness from childhood. His Sun-Venus in Pisces in square with Neptune and Saturn. These hard aspects indicate a self-destructive longing to remerge with the sea of life, the unified divinity of bliss. It also indicates insecurity and inhibition, preventing him from expressing his separate individual identity. There’s a conflict within the person of merging and differentiating, limiting and allowing. In Chopin’s case his frail psyche ultimately reflected this dynamic; getting sick on and off, vacillating between living and dying, not being able to make a clear conscious decision to be in the world or out of it.

Chopin had a high-profile love life that is worth saying something about. This would be due to the romanticism of his Sun-Venus in Pisces square Midheaven. He is famous for having a troubled relationship with the French novelist George Sand (Amantine Dupin). He seems to have been repulsed by her at first, calling her unattractive and unfeminine. Of course it is not easy as a mortal woman to live up to the divine perfection that is required of a Pisces Venus (that is square Neptune to add further to the unobtainable standard). They eventually became lovers but my guess is that Chopin really wanted a savior incarnate. Sand indeed became more like a mother figure or caretaker as his illness progressed and according to Wikipedia she referred to him in letters as ”a child”, ”a beloved little corpse” and a ”sufferer”. This is a classic demonstration of the neptunian victim dynamic playing itself out. She became more and more restless and impatient of course, as she probably longed for an individual, a solar principle to relate to and not the diffuse half-dead, half-living borderless emotional drain of Neptune. But this was Chopin’s nature, his weakness and his strength, his life and his death. Sand was confused and amazed by the effect he had on her and stated that if she would’ve been a proud person she would’ve felt humiliated having been carried away by him. Chopin probably had a very strong emotional mystique to him, due to his Piscean/Neptunian influence, which appealed to the eternal waters in other people, resulting in an inexplicably unconscious pull towards him.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Kinks: Vanilla

Summary: A year on the run following the events in Siberia has changed Steve…but not too much. He’s still a man of simple tastes… Takes Place within the timeframe of SSB Ch 35:- Not A Perfect Soldier, But A Good Man. Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- This entire series is SMUT so NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: So in honour of their Wedding Anniversary (5 years today!) I came up with this. It’s total nonsense, and just a load of badly written smut but, whatever.

SSK Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

August 2017

Another day, another under-the-radar mission. This one breaking up a gang that had been terrorising locals, running guns and arms, raiding local refugee camps and kidnapping the children to ship out to god knows where, for god knows what.

Frankly, it had knocked Katie sick, so she had been only too glad to get out of there once they’d ‘dispensed’ the ring leader into the care of Fury’s contacts. Well, by that they mean they’d left him hog tied in the middle of the African desert at the co-ordinates they had been given. What happened to him, well, even the world’s sentinel of justice, honour and truth couldn’t find it within him to give a shit. Not after what they’d just seen anyway.

Katie stole a glance at Steve as they drove the ‘borrowed’ jeep back to where Sam had landed their jet. Their time on the run had hardened him. Over a year now spent in shadows, and it was almost as if those shadows had claimed part of him for themselves. His hair was longer, far longer, usually worn pushed back off his face but the exertion of the fight they’d just had, had left the front strands flopping over his sweaty forehead. His beard was dark, and thick, speckled with the odd bit of copper and blonde here and there, hiding his jawline entirely leaving his face almost completely unrecognisable. To the average man on the street he looked like just another person, maybe worthy of a second glance for bearing a passing resemblance maybe to the fugitive Captain. The one thing that remained unchanged were his eyes. Whilst they were tired, carried a heavier burden than before, they were still the same eyes Katie had noticed and fallen in love with, and they still flashed with warmth and a sparkle whenever he looked at her.

And as long as that was there, she knew he was ok.

They reached the jet, Sam hopped down from the back of the jeep and headed in first over to the comms system, swiping at the screen.

“Hey, Steve…” he said gently, turning to his head back over his shoulder. Steve walked up the ramp, looking at Sam expectantly. “Fury’s patched us through the co-ordinates of a place to stay. Looks to be 100 miles North. Might be worth holding up there for the night?”

Steve hesitated for a while, they’d been running missions back to back now for almost 3 weeks. He was desperate to get back…well, home he supposed. To their cottage in Scotland that they’d holed up in for 12 months, where Wanda was currently waiting. But as he glanced around, Sam’s face was sporting a nasty gash above his eyebrows, Natasha had taken a few hard digs too and was clutching her side and Katie had taken a heavy blow to the face, the bruise already forming on her cheek. They were tired, whacked…maybe it was best they got their heads down and headed back in the morning.

“Alright.” He nodded. “Bring it up on the map.” Sam pressed a few buttons and then the holo-display sprang to life. Steve and Natasha observed the image, Natasha pointing to something, Steve agreeing before he straightened up and looked at Katie and Sam who were waiting patiently. “We were just staying it looks like a good spot we can land the jet. There’s nothing for miles, and it’s coastal.” “Coastal?” Katie frowned, before he eyes lit up “Like, there’s a beach?”

“Yeah” Steve said, not bothering to point out that their cottage in Scotland basically had its own private one. “There’s a beach.”

“It looks to be an old Diving Resort on the Red Sea.” Natasha said, “According to Fury, one of his contacts in Mossad used it as a front for smuggling Jewish Refugees out of Ethiopia. Operation Brothers, you heard of it?”

Katie, Sam and Steve both exchanged glances before they shrugged.

“Not surprising, I think the information surrounding it was only declassified recently.” Natasha scratched her neck “Long story short they saved thousands of lives. Smuggled refugees out of camps, and then shipped them out by boat back to Israel.”

“And they used a hotel as a front?” Katie arched an eyebrow.

“Diving resort.” Natasha nodded “Was fully functional too. Pretty damned clever if you ask me.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

“Fury wouldn’t tell us to head there if it wasn’t” Katie replied simply, “We can go, check it out. If we don’t like it we can head home.”

***** Sam landed the jet expertly on the beach which was hidden in a large cove. They stepped off the ramp onto the sugar white sand and Katie looked around at the various huts scattered along the shore. The main body of the hotel itself seemed to be boarded up. The 4 of them split up into 2 groups of 2 under Steve’s instructions, and made their way around, carefully, making sure there was no one else there, checking each out building thoroughly. Eventually they met one another at the front of the sandstone building, all nodding to signal that there was no sign of anyone else.

“The Red Sea Diving Resort.” Sam read the faded red lettering over the top of the boarded up entrance “Imaginative.”

Katie gave a scoff as she shook her head “Well I don’t know about any of you lot but I need to wash up and get changed…I’m disgustingly hot in this.” She pulled at the collar of her combat-top and turned to head back towards the jet. Steve caught her up, sliding an arm round her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“We haven’t forgotten.” Sam called from behind them. They both stopped and Katie glanced at Steve who met her puzzled look with one of his own.

“Forgotten what?” he asked as he turned to look at Sam.

Sam blinked, then turned to Natasha who gave a snort “Clearly they have…”

“Have what?” Steve pressed again, his tone slightly less patient than it had been.

“It’s your wedding anniversary you pair of dumbasses.” Sam snorted “God you two are…”

Clearly he couldn’t decide what it was that Katie and Steve were, instead he trailed off and headed up the ramp into the jet. Natasha followed him as Katie and Steve remained on the sand, simply looking at one another, before they both burst out into laughter.

“Oh my god…” Katie stuttered “We forgot…”

“Well, we have kinda been busy Doll.” Steve teased, before he shook his head and smiled “I haven’t forgotten that day though. Happiest day of my life.”

Katie smiled, “Mine too.”

He gently raised her hand to his mouth, brushing her knuckles with his mouth before they too headed onto the ramp and grabbed their kit bags.

The 4 agents walked down the sand, towards the huts they had checked earlier. They selected one each (the fact that Natasha and Sam headed a little further down to the one Steve had picked for him and Katie didn’t go unnoticed by the super soldier) and headed inside. Something Steve had noticed when he had looked around was how reasonably clean it was. He’d expected things to be covered in a layer of dust but it was fairly habitable. As Katie set about searching the drawers for something to make the bed with, he headed into the small bathroom at the back, turning the taps on. After an initial cough and a splutter, the system kicked in and the water began to run. Orange from sand and rust at first as it splattered the white porcelain bowl. Steve left it going whilst he moved back into the main room and saw Katie was holding what looked like an old polaroid photo.

“Look at this…” she said gently. “I found it when I was looking for some bed sheets.”

Steve glanced down at the photo which showed a tall dark haired, bearded man stood with his arm round a shorter, dark haired slim woman, who was looking at something to her left and laughing. At their feet sat, quite frankly the ugliest dog Steve had ever seen. It was hairless, but he still couldn’t help but admit it was cute in a strange way.

“They must have been part of the team that ran the Mossad Op.” Katie shrugged, “He kinda looks a bit like you actually.”

“I don’t see it.” Steve looked at her and she shrugged, moving to put the photo back in the drawer. “I found the bathroom, water is still running but not sure if it’s gonna be heated or…”

“I don’t need it heated.” Katie said, shaking her head. “Frankly the colder the better. Now, help me get this bed sorted and then we can wash up and maybe we can spend what’s left of the Anniversary we forgot sat out on the sand?”

Steve chuckled, pulling her closer to him, both hands on her hips. He dropped his face to hers, catching her lips in a soft kiss. “Sounds good to me.”

After a quick shower each they headed back outside, where Sam and Natasha were already sat. And it turns out their friends were indeed far better at remembering their anniversary than they were. Along with their normal supplies, Sam had stashed a crate of beer on the jet, hidden in the cooler and Natasha had also managed a bottle of the same champagne they had served at the wedding, although instead of drinking it out of crystal flutes, it was sipped from mugs which bore the Avengers symbol, a harsh reminder of the life they had all run from little over 12 months previously.

The 4 of them sat on the up turned logs, dotted around what Steve correctly guessed had been some sort of fire pit, talking quietly, watching the sun set over the ocean. It was peaceful and Steve felt like they could almost have been on vacation.

Almost.

He felt Katie sagging next to him and turned to see that she had her eyes closed, head resting on his shoulder. He placed a soft kiss to her head and then looked at the rest of his team. Sam’s head was drooping a little and Natasha’s eyes were heavy. With a soft instruction to go to bed they both looked at him, giving him a nod and Katie stirred a little. In a graceful movement Steve had swept her into his arms and he carried her, not unlike the way he had done 2 years ago that very night to their accommodation for the evening. She sat on the edge of the bed, removing her shorts and climbed under the scratchy sheets, Steve settling down besides her.

“Night sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing her neck as he pulled her to him, her back pressing into his chest.

“Night Soldier.” She whispered back, closing her eyes.

**** Steve turned over for what felt like the 10th time in as many minutes. He couldn’t get comfortable, and then there was the simple, yet slight complication to the situation that he’d woken from a particularly graphic dream about their honeymoon, and now he was fucking horny as hell.

He rolled onto his back, his head turning towards Katie and his eyes scanned over her face as she slept. He took in the shape of her nose, soft curve of her lips and his eye-line flickered down to the swell of her breasts which were visible under the cami she was wearing.

Ok, so that wasn’t helping. At all.

She gave a soft sigh, moving a little, her legs kicking down the sheets slightly so they fell around her hips and that was the point Steve’s already fraying self-control snapped. Shuffling closer a little he pressed his lips to hers, before he moved his mouth to her jawline, down her neck, leaving soft, hot kisses on her skin as he went. His hand gently curled around her hip, fingers digging into the flesh ever so slightly and she gave a little murmur, her eye lids fluttering as his lips moved back to hers. And this time, she reciprocated slightly. His lips dropped further downwards, his tongue dipping into the hollow of her throat before his affections turned to her delicate collar bone. With a gentle shift of his body, he went even lower still, his calloused hands sliding along her ribcage as he slid her cami top upwards, exposing her breasts. His large hands cupped them, thumbs brushing over her nipples and at that he felt her really respond with a soft whimper, her back arching slightly into his touch.

With one hand he traced the curve of her hip down the outside of her thigh, before he trailed across her belly, and then her soft whimpers became a harsh gasp as his fingers entered her, curling softly against her insides, coaxing more and more wetness from her as he moved, his mouth continuing to lick and sucking at her breasts. She arched her back, writhing, desperately moving her hips as she sought out the friction she needed between her legs and Steve obliged, moving his hand so the heel of his palm brushed against her clit. With a strangled moan, which she stifled slightly by turning her head into his arm, she came, her body shaking on the mattress, sheets now pushed well out of the way, leaving her bare bar her summer yellow panties underneath him.

Steve’s mouth claimed hers once more, in a searing kiss as he let out a groan of his own when he felt Katie dip her hand into his boxers, wrapping her hand around his achingly hard cock.  Every inch of him was on fire and he wanted her.

“Need you…” he said, his own voice low with desire as he pressed his lips back to her neck, nipping at the spot beneath her ear. “Want you…”

“You got me.” She whispered “I’m yours, always.”

At her words he gave a low groan, sitting up slightly so that he could pull the rest of her underwear down. He wriggled out of his own, before he settled over her, his mouth finding hers again the pair of them letting out a shaky sigh and a moan each as he entered her.

Her hands gently slid down over his back, feeling the expanse of muscle which twitched under her finger tips as he moved, slowly, deeply. Every roll of his hips sent his pelvis rocking up against her spot. Katie glanced up at him, his lips kiss swollen, eyes blown with desire, hair falling forward over his forehead. She reached up to brush it back, her hands tangling in the long strands and she pulled his face down to hers, locking their lips in a sloppy, filthy kiss.

Fuck, Steve Rogers loved sex with his wife anyway he could get it, but this…well, he was a sucker for simple vanilla and Katie was too. There was something about this position, the boring missionary one that drove both of them wild. The way Steve could cage her in his arms, fuck her into the mattress one day or make love to her the next. The way his large frame engulfed hers completely surrounding her, filling each one of her senses.  The way he controlled the pace completely, driving into her again and again until she could no longer think straight. The way he controlled the depth, sometimes using his arms under her knees to hold her open, or slinging her legs over her shoulders.  

It was a plain, vanilla flavoured heaven. One that they could visit time and time again, and would never get bored of tasting.

Steve drove as deep into his wife as he could get, rotating his hips slightly whilst he was fully seated, causing her to gasp and emit a frankly sinful moan which he swallowed with his mouth. Her hands dug into the skin of his shoulder blades and he moved, grabbing her wrists and pulling them round so he could lace his fingers between hers. Pinning her hands either side of her head he picked up his pace slightly, carefully watching her face as he felt her tightening around him slightly, a tell-tale sign she was close.

“Come on sweetheart…” Steve panted, his lips by her ear as he gave a soft nip to her neck. “Come on baby…”

The sensation and heat which was building in her core was impossible to ignore. Her breathy pants of his name became faster, as did Steve’s movements and with a last, broken cry of his name the fire exploded in her belly and she came, hard, her orgasm rolling over her in wave after wave of white hot pleasure, which left her boneless underneath Steve, her nails digging into the backs of his hands. The sensation of feeling her around him was enough, and Steve gave a single, strangled cry of her name as he too reached his peak, his hips faltering as the ribbons in his belly untangled, the pleasure spreading from the toes to the very hair on his head.

He pressed his face into Katie’s neck, pressing another soft kiss to her pulse point which left his lips salty from the slight gleen of sweat which coated them both. He pulled back slightly, releasing Katie’s hands as she flexed her fingers, knowing full well what she wanted. And, sure enough, her fingers threaded through his long hair, scratching softly at the nape of his neck. His eyes closed, and the pair of them lay in silence, completely blissed out and relaxed, hearing only each other’s gradually steadying breaths which mingled with the sounds of the waves lapping against the shore outside.

Katie felt Steve’s lips press to her forehead and she smiled softly, opening her eyes to look straight into his, those baby blues spattered with green.

“Happy Anniversary gorgeous.” He muttered, his lips catching hers.

“Its past midnight.” She replied gently

“Not at home.” He replied softly, before he swallowed and hung his head “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

“Hey, Steve…I am home.” Katie looked at him, her hands moving to cup his face “My home is with you.” She moved his face so that his lips met hers again, her hands gently tangling in his beard “It always will be, you know this.” She whispered against his mouth before she kissed him, deeply, wriggling a little. Steve gave a short grunt and she felt him starting to twitch inside her again. With an arch of her eyebrow she tipped her pelvis again and in a flash Steve had reached up, pinning her wrists down by her head.

“Keep going and Imma be hard again in about 5 seconds flat.” He whispered, and Katie grinned.

“I’m counting on it soldier…” she smirked “Because I’ve got a hankering for some more plain old vanilla.”

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 6

Chapters: 6/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

"Do you really hate Keats that much?" Martin asks Jon, sounding faintly betrayed. They're sitting on a pile of cushions in front of Gerry's big window, while the man himself stands painting nearby.

There has been no previous mention of Keats since they arrived several hours ago, nor in the entire course of Gerry knowing them together.

Granted, he had barely been awake when they had arrived, having rolled out of bed just seconds before the knock came, but Gerry thought he had been keeping fairly decent track of the overall conversation.

He had thought Sunday brunch was a great idea when Jon suggested it during the week. Only remembering half-way through his shift the previous night that he was normally dead asleep during that time on a Sunday. But needs must, and after coffee and food, he was feeling downright perky at having two cute boys in his apartment.

Jon and Martin had settled into the pillow pile to occupy themselves while Gerry wandered off to paint, and they had spent several hours each engaged in their own artistic endeavors, simply enjoying the energy of one another's company.

Jon had started out reading but kept getting distracted by the way the light in the studio catches in Gerry's dark red hair, tied up in a chaotic messy bun, and had idly been strumming Gerry's old acoustic guitar for a while instead. Martin had been writing in a notebook, tongue often caught between his teeth in contemplation, glasses pushed up onto the top of his hair.

Jon stops playing abruptly and Gerry winces at the discordant note the guitar lets out in protest.

"I think Keats is pretty cool," offers Gerry cheerfully.

"Thank you, Gerard, very helpful," grouses Jon in return, glaring at him. Gerry blows him a kiss and returns to his canvas.

"I don't hate Keats, Martin." Jon's voice is slow and soft in the way that indicates that he's actually trying to be sensitive, "I just think he's overrated. After spending so much time in uni pouring over his boring symbolism, I'm just sick of him."

Jon's English literature degree, which Gerry remembers with some humour does not qualify him for a job at a library, had been a pain to get, and he doesn't always remember that part of his life with any great fondness.

"I know, but-" Martin cuts off abruptly and there's unexpected silence for a moment.

"Gerry, do you have a cat?" Jon's voice is incredulous and somewhat delighted at the new development.

"Yes," Gerry replies, very casually. He looks around to find that the cat has indeed wandered in and is sitting in a shaft of sunlight, black fur shining. "Jon, Martin, meet Saturn. Saturn, this is Jon and Martin."

Saturn blinks at them, before abruptly standing, showing them his butt, and then walking over to twine between Gerry's legs. Gerry deposits his painting supplies nearby and reaches down to scoop Saturn up, before carrying him over to sit with the others.

"He's not always great with new people, but hopefully he'll warm up to you. He can be a great cuddler when he wants to be." Saturn eyes them all speculatively before sitting on his own cushion and curling up in a fluffy ball.

"So he's like the Jon cat?" Martin asks, sneaking out a finger to scratch Saturn's fluffy little ears. He purrs lightly and Gerry grins to see them getting along.

"Well-" Jon splutters indignantly, face warming beneath his tan.

They both laugh and Gerry leans towards Martin to whisper conspiratorially, "He's not even embarrassed about being bad with new people. He's shy that we know how good of a cuddler he is."

Jon presses his lips together with a long-suffering expression, also reaching out a hand to pet the purring feline. Saturn rolls over towards him and gets a belly rub for his efforts.

"There we go," Gerry mutters happily. "All my favorite boys, getting along so well."

There's more sputtering from both Jon and Martin at that, but Gerry only laughs and leans over to kiss the tops of their heads.

***

Jon sighs and rubs the back of his neck, trying to release the burning tension sitting in all the joints of his spine.

It's 1 A.M. and the library is long, long closed, doors locked and lights turned out. He doesn't know how he gets here sometimes. Elias has certainly never overtly demanded he work overtime, and yet Jon always feels the need to push a little harder, do more than anyone would consider even remotely reasonable.

He accepted a while ago, that his irrational drive for perfection in this job stems from his self-doubt and fear of inadequacy.

And yet, that understanding does nothing to get him home at a reasonable hour, even when he remembers the two men who always seem to be around when he needs them.

It's unfathomable to Jon how he managed to find himself in a relationship with not one but two incredibly understanding and supportive men who love him. He considers it a downright miracle that they also seemed to be finding their way towards loving one another. Although, who wouldn't love Martin and Gerry?

He checks his watch again. Martin is definitely asleep, and even just stumbling in to lie in bed with him would disturb him. He knows the sweet man would say he doesn't mind, but he feels like if he can't get back at a reasonable hour, he doesn't deserve to sleep next to him at all.

Gerry, on the other hand, is mostly nocturnal. A quick check of his phone shows that it's actually Friday, and he is working at the bar for another hour or so.

While Jon has his phone in his hand, he opens up their text chain.

Gerry: Don't work too late. Martin and I want you functional so that we can drag you out to that street market this weekend.

Jon: I won't.

Gerry: Yes, you will. But try to keep it pre-midnight ;)

'He's awake,' Jon tells himself firmly. 'He'll be happy to see you, even if you did work even later than he predicted.'

So Jon packs up his stuff and leaves the library. He considers a cab, but it's only a few blocks and he thinks the fresh air and exercise will unlock the tension in his poor abused spine.

He arrives at the bar just before closing. Gerry is busy charming a few drunk regulars out the door with promises of undying love and that the bar will be back tomorrow afternoon. After they stumble off, he turns to find Jon walking slowly towards him. Gerry is wearing combat boots, dark jeans, and a loose leather tank top, over a lace undershirt. He has his favorite hoop in his nose, and the light glints off the many piercings in his ears.

"Why, Gerry Delano, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Gerry grins at Jon's teasing tone and echoed words, no sign of recrimination about him.

"I always am." Jon reaches Gerry at that, and they draw together, pressing tired lips against each other gently.

Gerry's hair has faded out a bit from the moody red, and Jon slips his hands into his hair to hold him close for a moment longer. They rock together on the street for a long, frozen moment.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Gerry asks, pulling away and sliding his hands down Jon's arms to connect their fingers.

"I missed you," Jon confesses shakily, emotion spilling out of his voice.

"Good, I missed you too." Gerry drags him into the bar and fills the air with stories from his shift while he and his colleagues clean for the evening, closing up the bar.

They walk home arm in arm, Gerry flirting with him mercilessly. Jon sheds the day's tension as they go, and by the time they arrive at Gerry's loft, he's warm and relaxed.

He supposes he should probably go back to his own flat, but it's not a place he spends the night very often anymore, and he fears the creeping insomnia that will take him without Martin and Gerry around to soothe him into sleep. Besides, Gerry is right here with him, and he seems so pleased to have him around.

"Are you going to paint now?" Jon asks as they shed their work clothes. Jon is sorry to see the lace shirt go, but Gerry makes up for it by simply throwing a kimono over his bare chest. He throws him a T-shirt, so Jon wears that and his boxers as they settle on the couch. Gerry is still wearing his jeans, but both their feet are bare as they tangle on the coffee table.

"I'm not sure, do you want to?" Gerry asks as he lights a cigarette and offers Jon one.

"What? Do I want to paint?" Jon's voice is taken aback. He takes the cigarette and lights it.

Gerry shrugs as if it's obvious. "Sure, you used to draw with me when we were younger."

"Yes, but…"

"But what, Jonathon? You're too old to paint now? Too proper and straight-laced to get charcoal under your nails? No more piercings, no more creativity?" Gerry sways into his shoulder, drawing smoke into his lungs and letting it out as he speaks.

"No, it's not that." Jon grouses back. Gerry hums derisively in return. "I just don't see the point of wasting your drawing paper when you can do that." Jon gestures wildly towards Gerry's most recently completed painting.

Gerry eyes it critically. It's the commission that he's been slogging over petulantly. It's large and impressively done, he can accept that, but he doesn't like it very much. He hates the subject and composition Peter Lukas has demanded and compensated by pouring all his best technique into it. It makes him sad and sullen to look at, and Gerry will be relieved when it's finally gone.

"For every painting like that I've ever done, Jon," Gerry spills all his affection into the name, and Jon can feel it, "I've done a thousand ridiculous sketches and colour studies. Art is time, and diligence and joy as much as it ever is masterpieces. You don't sit down one day and magically just know how to be a maestro."

Jon looks over and up at him with big green eyes. Gerry can't help but lean over and slide his hand into Jon's hair, pressing their lips together for a moment. "So Mr. Sims. Can I tempt you to make some art with me?"

***

What they create in those soft early morning hours can only generously be called art, even Gerry's efforts. But they laugh and kiss and somehow get covered in charcoal and acrylic paint. Gerry even allows Jon to choose the Spotify playlist. Slow piano music with nature sounds play softly in the background of their impromptu art party, reminding Gerry of nothing so much as Jon himself.

The dawn is just breaking through Gerry's massive bank of windows when he allows Jon to drag him off to bed, and they collapse together in the soft morning light.

***

Late the next morning, Martin lets himself into the flat and bounces down onto the bed between them, sending Saturn flying off in a huff.

"So, I heard there was a slumber party. I brought breakfast."

"Fuck off," Gerry slurs, but rather undermines his own point when he pulls Martin down and tucks himself around him. Jon does the same from the other side, and Martin finds himself in the middle of a very sleepy man sandwich.

Gerry seems to instantly fall back asleep, but Jon eventually drags himself to consciousness, even buried in Martin's neck. "What's time?"

"Almost ten," he responds, very cheerfully.

"WHAT-" Jon flies out of bed in a blind panic, desperately looking for his phone, which is dead when he finds it anyway. "I'm already so fucking late!"

Gerry groans.

"Relax Jon." Martin tries to soothe him but is hindered by the fact that Gerry is still clinging to him in a very enjoyable way. "Gerry, love, let me go. Jon is having a meltdown."

"How unusual," Gerry mutters very unsupportively, Jon manages to notice. He flops over onto his other side and attempts to bury himself in pillows instead of Martin.

"Jon, breathe." Swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, Martin uses his best man-disaster steadying tone. Gerry has come to realize what that tone is, but he doesn't mention it to anyone. "It's Saturday."

Jon slumps and drops the pants he was desperately trying to wrangle himself into.

"It's Saturday?" He asks.

"It's Saturday," Gerry confirms from the pillow fort.

Jon glares at Martin in a very put upon way. Martin smiles at him brightly.

He turns and wanders off to the bathroom in an effort to collect himself. Martin resumes his spot in the middle of the bed, and drags Gerry towards him, tucking himself into his back.

"Hmmm. So much noise on a weekend." The goth mutters as he attempts to resettle himself in Martin's arms.

"I'll make it up to you later," Martin promises, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

"You let that happen on purpose, didn't you." It's not a question. "Just to see that look on his face."

"Yes," Martin says, chuckling into Gerry's pillow.

"Very good, sir."

[365days365movies]

March 2, 2021: The Last Unicorn (1982) (Part 1)

I, uh...I wanna talk about zoology.

It’s my profession of choice, although if I’m going to be specific, it’s ecology and ornithology, based on my Masters. But while my expertise is in birds, that doesn’t mean I have any particular preference. So, let’s talk mammals. Specifically, I’d like to talk about horses.

Horses are odd-toed ungulates (Order Perissodactyla) belonging to the family Equidae, with only one living genus (Equus), which includes donkeys, zebras, and a FUCK-ton of fossil progenitors. Not gonna go into horse evolution here, since it’s a vast topic on its own, but the group dates to about 54 million years ago, during the Eocene period.

There are specific features that define modern horses as horses, including a single hoofed toe for walking on, a body built for running with high stamina, and a large cecum in the intestines for breaking down fibrous and herbaceous material. It’s a group native to North America, Africa, and Asia, with the modern descended horse descended from a somewhat unknown ancestor in Central Asia.

They’re grazers rather than browsers, which many similar sized herbivores are. And, of course, they have a close relationship to humans throughout prehistory. Their main systems of defense against predators are the afore-mentioned running capabilities, a VICIOUS kick (especially horses like zebras), and a high-range of monocular vision due to the position of their HUGE eyes.

In terms of sexual selection, it’s essentially based on physical competition between the males in a population, which are usually formed into reproductive harems. That’s one male with multiple females that live within an established range. The females have their own dominance schemes, while groups of males exist in bachelor herds before establishing a harem of their own.

And those two paragraphs help explain why horses don’t grow horns.

Animals like this bighorn sheep, as well as antelopes with impala and gerenuk, perform intrasexual selection using their horns, the size of which determine the fitness of an individual male, with the fights settling any potential ties for watching females. And that’s the main reason why herbivorous mammals grow horns, and horses have come up with different social structures to compensate. But OK, couldn’t they just horns anyway? 

Remember the stomach I mentioned earlier? Here’s the thing; hindgut digestion, which is what horses do...not the most nutritionally efficient form of digestion. In order to maintain their running lifestyles, they invest all obtained energy and nutrients into building muscle and other important functions. Fact of the matter is, they just can’t devote enough energy and nutrients to the physiologically expensive act of owning a horn. They do have a close relative that does that, though. However, they’ve sacrificed their speed, intelligence, and even their eyesight for their horns, as well as beefing up their physical defense with thicker skin.

YUP! So why talk about this? I mean...you know why.

OK, so that had basically nothing to do with this movie, but a post like this has been building since I mentioned the gerenuk a little bit ago. Sorry, had to get it out. Anyway, yeah, unicorns are impossible, but they’re still a hallowed mythical creature. National animal of Scotland, one of the most prominent symbols of medieval mythology, a magic-using ethnic class in a mythical kingdom composed of a horse-based majority that also includes normal horses and pegasi...

You know, unicorns. So, I’m definitely interested in what would happen to make a unicorn, well...the last one. My bets are on something man-made, like deforestation or another for of habitat depletion. Could be poaching for the horn. After all, that’s what’s been driving rhinoceros species to near-extinction (or actual extinction in the case of the western black and northern white rhinos. RIP Sudan, you goddamn king).

But let’s find out rather than speculate! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

During medieval times, in a mystical wood called the Unicorn’s Forest, a hunter shows unease to his companion. In the forest, there are no seasons, and the beasts are protected from hunters, as long as there is one unicorn left if the forest. That last unicorn is...the Unicorn (Mia Farrow), who learns from the hunters that she must be the last of her kind.

The opening credits, which are a gorgeous animated medieval tapesty, are backed by the song “The Last Unicorn”, by America (damn, nice pull). Gives the whole thing a Renn Faire feel. Never been to a Renn Faire, but I’d love to go to one, honestly.

Anyway, the Unicorn is in doubt that there are no more of her kind in the world, as they live forever, and she would know if there are none left...right? However, they can also be killed and trapped, so...I mean, they might be dead, Unicorn. As she’s thinking on this, the most Rankin-Bass butterfly ever shows up singing a ballad of love. This is...the Butterfly (Robert Klein), a bard-erfly (see whay I did there) who won’t stop singing, despite the Unicorn’s pleas to tell her of other unicorns.

Butterflies, apparently, repeat to anything they hear around them Which involves like, a lot of non-medieval songs. There’s one about the A-train, apparently, which makes...just NO fucking sense. As the Unicorn also shows frustration at this anachronistic little bugger, he breaks his songs to tell her than the Unicorns have all been chased off by “the Red Bull.”

...I’m going to hold it off as long as I can, but the joke WILL come. It WILL come.

She wonders if she can truly leave the forest, then actually does so in order to find the other unicorns. She happens upon a farmer, who attempts to tame her, as he only sees her as a horse. Apparently, men can no longer see unicorns as they are, and usually only see them as white horses. So, there may be unicorns in the world after all!

Not sure why she doesn’t go back to her forest after realizing this, but...OK. She continues on, backed once again by a song performed by America, called “Man’s Road”. Real talk, I’m digging the music in here, which is my inner folk rock fan talking.

While she finds nothing on her journey, she’s instead found by Mother Fortuna (Angela Langsbury), a witch who runs a carnival that needs a new exhibition. With her comes Ruhk (Brother Theodore) and magician Schmendrick (Alan Arkin), the latter of whom actually can see the Unicorn as a Unicorn.

At the carnival, Schmendrick introduces hiself to the Unicorn, wanting to get her out of there. Meanwhile, an audience is fooled by Mother Fortuna’s illusory magic to see a manticore, satyr, and the Midgard Serpent, when in reality they are an elderly lion, ape with a twisted foot, and really sad snake. However, the Harpy that she has IS real, and a major threat to Fortuna were she to escape.

That night, Fortuna speaks to the Unicorn of the Red Bull, owned by a King Haggard. The Unicorn asks Fortuna to free both her and the Harpy, two signs of the same magical coin. Also...is this a kids’ movie? Kinda thought it was until I noticed that the Harpy has, well...pendulous breasts. Literally the best way I can describe them. Also, three of them, so...there’s that.

After she leaves, Schmendrick arrives to free the Unicorn with his magic...and he’s shit at it. Like, REALLY shit. But thankfully, he’s a decent pickpocket, and stole the cage keys from Ruhk. He lets the Unicorn free, and she in turn releases the other animal prisoners, Harpy included. Which is NOT great for Fortuna, who’s IMMEDIATELY killed.

The two leave together, and head on the Unicorn’s journey to find her own kind. She cannot grant Schmendrick his wish to become a true magician, but he still gives her information about this world, and King Haggard, who seems like bad news.

On the road, the two encounter a gang of thieves of the road, who work for Captain Cully (Keenan Wynn), a short and portly leader of bandits. His mistress is a woman named Molly Grue (Tammy Grimes), who’s endlessly frustrated by Cully’s regular failures. They befriend Schmendrick, who impresses them with illusions of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Although, it’s not his illusions, but those of the Unicorn, trying to help.

Doesn’t help that much, though, as the Robin Hood-hating Captain Cully ties him up to a tree after all of his men and Molly leave. A frustrated Schmendrick mutters a spell by mistake, and brings the tree to life.

And then my girlfriend fuckin’ broke. Here she is, below:

Ravishing. Yeah, she’s watching this too, and when the tree came up, her words were, and I quote:

...a smooth-talking horse, a three-tittied harpy, and a BOOBED TREE!

Boobed tree is an expression I will find a way to use in my life. Also, this is ABSOLUTELY not a kid’s movie, and that is one busty-ass tree. This tree, called...The Tree (Nellie Bellflower) is in love with Schmendrick, and is enraged by the appearance of the Unicorn. However, the Unicorn undoes Schmendrick’s magic, and puts the t-horny tree back to sleep.

The two encounter Molly Grue, who’s astonished to see a Unicorn. She cries, as she was been waiting to see one since she was a young maiden, but now she isn’t one anymore. Interesting implications there, but moving on. Molly wishes to join them, and while Schmendrick isn’t super down for that, she wins the Unicorn’s trust when she points out that they’ve been going in the wrong direction. Whoops.

OK, with that, let’s break for Part 2! See you there!

[straynstay]

Double Knot theory

this might be completely wrong, sorry lol it took me the whole day to come up with this, my head hurts lol

Alrighty peeps, here I am again with another attempt in trying to understand what’s behind the minds of SKZ when it comes to concepts, so I’m gonna analyze Double Knot on my yeezys after watching several times all their MVs (yes, I’m crazy lol). I’m not gonna be able to put pics of everything here cause tumblr sucks sometimes, but you can check the MVs to see what I’m talking about in case you don’t remember or didn’t notice. BARE WITH ME CAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG RIDE!

Starting with District 9 (where it all began), we have Mr. Bang Chan (the one in charge of their duties, therefore the leader) that sees a red flower and realizes that something is not right because if everything is monochromatic, how can there be a red flower? A glitch? An abnormality in their reality?

I think that the flower is a Poisenttia, but I don’t understand much of flowers, so I might be wrong. But if it’s really a Poisenttia, it could mean that the flower is pointing them to “salvation” since, according to Google, this flower is used during Christmas to symbolize the star of Bethlehem which led the Wise Men to where Jesus was born. So maybe the flower is showing that there’s a way out of this controlled reality they’re in? Maybe... (or maybe the flower will lead them to the big boss).

Moving on, Chan runs away to find that one of the drones that was watching them has crashed with a glass (?), making him place his hand on the panel that is projecting their world, and it wobbles (idk), meaning that they’re in a fake reality (everything is not what it seems!!)

Chan then hands out red papers with an encrypted message (I tried really hard reading what was on it, but it looks like and alien language or sth) to all SKZ members and they all get inside the bus (I’ve always wondered who’s driving the bus…) to break free from that reality and they enter another reality, a post-apocalyptic one, kinda lol, which is District 9 and they think they rule it cause they raised their flags there (but they’re not the ones in control, sorry boys)

And at the end we see the Stray Kids logo with black letters and the K in red. My mind went crazy and thought: S T R A Y K I D S = 9 letters, but one is different. > 9 boys, but one is different. Who? I think is Hyunjin because he’s the only one that looks at Chan after receiving the paper to escape and because he’s the one that the camera shows right after we see their logo on the floor lol So what I take from this is that Stray Kids now has become a glitch in their perfect system, but Hyunjin is not completely okay with it.

Moving on, in Mirror (not Miroh) we have Hyunjin alone in a room with 9 chairs, which I think that while the others left, he stayed behind. He’s writing on a piece of paper: who am I? where am I? I am not me (and the pencil dramatically breaks). They repeat several times “I don’t even know who I am, I just came along as they told me to” so I’m assuming Hyunjin is the one who’s still lost while SKZ is trying to break free, and maybe he’s having a hard time trusting Chan cause in the end Chan and Hyunjin are facing each other (don’t fight boys lol). 

And I say that Hyunjin is the different one by watching subtle things in other MVs (like Voices, MIA, My Pace...) in which the scenario changes suddenly when his part comes, or when it doesn’t glitch as much as the others, etc., which makes me believe my theory that he’s the odd one, the one that actually doesn’t want to be part of the group.

May I add that in My Pace they’re all stepping on red pamphlets on the floor that says “Just stay in my lane”… and they’re not staying in their lane anymore? (you can’t control SKZ trying to take over the system).

Now we move on to I Am You MV which is the sequel to My Pace, right? So we see them after glitching a lot in My Pace and they’re still being watched, but now Jisung breaks a surveillance camera lol and they move to another post-apocalyptic scenario cause, let’s be honest, who would live on that rooftop with drawings of a couch and a plant if it wasn’t for the end of the world? But what called my attention was the fact that we see Jeongin’s reflection on a puddle and we see two moons (hi Side Effects and Double Knot), they’re on the move on a truck instead of a bus, and we have an interesting scene with Chan and Jeongin’s reflection becoming one (so they’re indeed in this together), but what about Hyunjin? Well, we see him assembling something like a bat-signal that has SKZ logo on it as if he’s now calling for them…but by the end of the MV their logo still has the K as the odd one out.

So what’s all this about? In my weird mind, Chan discovered that they were living a lie, being controlled and told what to do and decided to break free from all of it, and while the others seem to agree, Hyunjin isn’t fully convinced about it. Maybe he’s scared? He doesn’t know who he actually is, since they all seemed to be in a mind controlling environment being watched 24/7, so he’s lost. The albums go like this in the storyline I’ve created in my mind: I Am Not = I’m not who I think I was, my life has been a lie; I Am Who = who am I? everything is a mess while I’m searching for my own self at my own pace; I Am You = I’m a glitch just like you.

NOW WE MOVE ON TO THE CLÉ SERIES!! (I swear to God SKZ is trying to give me a headache cause I’ve never used my brain this much before in my life lol)

In Miroh (not Mirror lol) we all know now that they are trying to overtake the system. They were able to enter the surveillance room and find those who they thought were controlling them. There’s some signs I was able to check in Miroh during the parade (that I haven’t noticed before) that are quite interesting. The first one says “There is no Tarzan in City Jungle”. Tarzan is considered a wild man, someone who’s not behaving the way society demands since he was raised in the jungle among animals. The other signs say “Something happened, nothing changed” and “The world is the same”, so I’m assuming that society is celebrating the fact that the faulty/glitched ones (the “Tarzans” aka SKZ) are long gone now – since District 9 –, and everything is back to normal with everyone behaving like they should and the system functioning perfectly, but they don’t realize that SKZ figured their way into the City Jungle (aka the central part of the system) and are gonna make a mess in it lol

I have already analyzed Side Effects (you can check it here), but I’m gonna go even crazier now and assume that Side Effects is also them being chased by the “boss” after what they’ve done in Miroh, and they have to follow unlocked roads in order to lay low and not be captured. Maybe that’s why Hyunjin is the nervous one in the MV, fighting Seungmin (cause he’s about to register with a camera where they are and what they’re doing) and Felix (who wants to leave the cart, their ‘safe’ zone), because he didn’t want to be there in the first place. His lines in the song shows he’s afraid and doubting himself.

But at the end of Side Effects, Hyunjin is now converted to SKZ’s cause, if that makes sense. After everything they’ve gone through, everything that happened in Miroh and the other MVs, he’s finally part of the group. So Chan, as the leader, reaches out to him, and Hyunjin accepts, leaving a key behind – which I think might be what he was holding onto since District 9 (cause they all had separate rooms in that ‘prison’ and that key looks like a regular room key and not one of the fancy keys that show up on Double Knot). Now they’re gonna walk their path as a unit, not individuals.

Alright, that being said, I’m gonna move on to Double Knot. In Double Knot we see them walking on a road that looks almost exactly like the one they’ve been staring at in Victory Song in a city with two moons, so that means that after running a lot in Side Effects, they’ve reached their destination = the city. 9 fancy keys appear on top of some maps, so I’m assuming everything is complete now. We see an Astronaut billboard and we also have “take off” being showed in a bracelet, a ring, a necklace, and on the road. I’ll comment on those two later.

Right, so here comes the fun parts of this analysis. When Jisung (?) ties his laces, the ground becomes glitched as if something (aka SKZ) is interfering in the system (we can see signal written, so it means ‘no signal’ or ‘error-signal’). 

And now EVERYTHING STARTS TO MAKE SENSE! Because SKZ now knows that since everyone is in this together after Hyunjin decided to join them in Side Effects, they can play with the glitches! Let me try to explain it better: after watching this MV and the others, I now see their concept kinda like Wreck It Ralph, if you know what I mean lol They’re not where they were supposed to be and they’re glitching inside a world that’s being projected to them, a fake world in which someone is in charge, but they broke free from that control, so now that they’re complete as a unit, they can be like Vanellope and play around with the faulty system that can’t handle them, meaning that they’re free and can go anywhere, change from one to another, lag the system and confuse the hell out of whoever is still trying to stop them.

This MV has more glitches and interferences than any other one, so it probably means they’re closer to the end than before. I don’t know if they’re trying to reach the main core or anything like this, but I do believe that this is not the end for them, I still think that there’s a final boss even after Miroh... but this is just me guessing lol

Minho, Jeongin and Seungmin see that they’re still being watched by a drone (kinda like District 9) and they’re recognized by the system (can you see their names on the side of the screen right below Stray Kids?), maybe the system is trying to get rid of the glitches?

Hyunjin is running alone on the street until he reaches a crossroad (now he doesn’t have to choose which road to take, he can go anywhere) and then after running some more he finds a key with the SKZ logo on the floor. This key is the same key that Chan uses to unlock the Yellow Wood on the elevator, btw, and the same key that we see him trying to open the white door with; the same door that Chan peeks through the key hole and sees himself and the SKZ on the sky, somewhat in a heroic kinda pose, right?

“ERROR-SIGNAL” shows up at the end when they’re all together, and we see that the Stray Kids logo is now all white (they’re all the same now). At the end, there’s blue while we see the interferences, which I think is because they’re gonna go up to the sky in Levanter.

THEY’RE GONNA TAKE OFF TO THE MOON!!! or not lol mark my words: Stray Kids everywhere all around the UNIVERSE! the world is too small for them now! The MV also shows “the owners of Clé”, meaning that they’ve learned how to make the system work for them now. GO, STRAY KIDS!

Something weird that I noticed while watching the MVs is that they’re always on rooftops (in Victory Song, Voices, I Am You, Miroh, etc), as if they’re trying to reach higher than that, but can’t or don’t know how to yet. They need an Astronaut to help them Take Off (see what I did here?), and I believe that the answer is behind the white door that Chan is about to open. Now I have no idea who or what might the astronaut, or what’s behind that door, but I hope we get more answers in Levanter.

Wow, I think I wrote a lot and there’s still much more that we can talk about this MV and SKZ’s concept. Maybe I’m dead wrong, but this is how I interpreted the story, so feel free to discuss your ideas with me if you want to~

STRAY KIDS MAKE ME PROUD AND THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS ♥️

[legacy-wip]

Supplemental Worldbuilding: The City of Zorra

(Taken from A Guide to All Places of Importance by Dwarven writer Faldro Coalfield)

A Brief Description

Zorra, the capital and largest urban settlement in Ellonia, is without question the most significant city in the kingdom and perhaps even in all Valmora. Holding over one hundred thousand souls within its walls the city is as diverse as it is sizeable, and a better understanding of its features, districts, and layout will do any traveler good before visiting the city for the first time.

A good place to begin is the actual layout of the capital. Zorra is split into three primary sections, some of which are future divided into more specific districts. The smallest section, though undoubtedly the most impressive, is the Royal Quarter which contains the Palace of Dawn: the seat of power for the kingdom and the residence of Her Majesty Queen Leona. The Palace looms over the rest of the city from its elevated position on the northern most point of Zorra, and its layered walls offer a formidable defense before giving way to the beautifully designed golden and red stained glass that is synonymous with the throne. Dominating the skyline, the Royal Quarter is a sight that will leave a lasting impact on any soul that sees it.  

The second major section of Zorra is only somewhat larger than the first and sits between the Royal Quarter and the rest of the city. It is known as the Iron Band, both because it wraps around the palace, offering another layer of protection, and because the vast majority of the citizens within this area are smiths or soldiers of some kind. The Iron Band is made to be held even if the outer city falls, and from its more secure position it can still continue to conduct necessary military actions as well as continue the production of weapons and armor. It is a dirty, noisy, and hot place, but it offers a great service to the protection of the Crown should Zorra ever find itself under siege.

The last section of the city is by far the largest and most populated of the three. The Commons, as they are regularly referred to, is where the majority of souls dwell within Zorra. They are protected by a single outer wall that runs the exceptionally large perimeter of the city, and within the Commons multiple districts are defined. There are over two dozen unique districts within the city walls, some formally defined, and others only used colloquially, but each has its own purpose and function. A full breakdown of every district within the Commons would be impossible here, but a traveler should be aware of a few of the more prominent ones.

The Harbor: Easy enough to remember, the harbor runs nearly the entire length of the Commons along the eastern coast. Zorra rests in a good location for trade so it is regularly a lively place. Good deals can regularly be found here, if you’ve got the desire to barter. Be careful though, the harbor is a busy place and many a sailor will not take kindly to someone getting in their way. Mind where you step.  

The Exchange: Located in the heart of the Commons, the exchange is a massive market. Goods of nearly every variety can be found here if you learn to navigate it well enough. A visit to Zorra would be incomplete without at least visiting the exchange, if not for the goods themselves then for the experience of smelling a thousand aromas and hearing ten thousand mingling voices at once.

The Green: The largest park in the city, it is a thin but lengthy section that runs along the edge of the curtain wall between the Iron Band and the Commons. It is well maintained and offers a beautiful and calm respite from the crowded commotion of such a populated city. Young lovers or waxing romantics will enjoy the calm and quiet peace of the place, and the Oceanic Lookout on the eastern most edge of the park is a great place to watch the sun rise should a traveler be able to spare the time.

The South End or the “Sty”: Stay clear of this district near the southern wall, it is a hotbed for crime, unseemly actions, and unseemly souls. Many a disoriented traveler has gotten lost in the endlessly winding streets of Zorra and found themselves down in the Sty. The lucky ones come out broke. The unlucky ones don’t come out at all.

The Silver Quarter: If you need to be told what it is, you likely don’t belong there. The Silver Quarter is a fairly small but well maintained and protected section of the city that caters to the aristocracy and the otherwise excessively wealthy and elite. Fine dining, impressive mansions, and beautiful parks grace this section of Zorra. If you’re a count or a rather successful baron than you will find yourself quite at home here. Otherwise, mind your own business and leave this part of town alone, lest you anger some of the guard.

As mentioned previously, these are just a few of the districts one might find in Zorra, but they give you a good sense of the more major areas and functions of the city. A full explanation of this great settlement would require a ten-novel series, so this humble scribe suggests that one visit the city personally to fully experience all it has to offer.

That said, hopefully this brief explanation has provided you some small insight into the layout and workings of Ellonia’s capital. Zorra is without a doubt a city of unparalleled splendor and one surely worth a visit. What is more, the city also has an interesting history. For those interested in such things, I have provided a brief summary of what we know about its uncertain past below.

History

Zorra gets its name from the old tongue word meaning “New Dawn”. It is one of the, if not the, oldest permanent settlements on the continent of Valmora, and its early history is as muddled and confusing as any account from the Age of Monsters. That said, there are a few defining characteristics that historical scribes do agree on in relation to the founding and early development of the now great city.

The settlement was originally much smaller than its current size but much more heavily fortified. While modern Zorra may brag a series of two curtain walls before reaching the Palace of Dawn itself, early Zorra was even more formidable. Walls of heavy stone were cut from the nearby quarries at the base of Mt. Skybreaker and were set and fortified not only by skilled builders and laborers, but also augmented and strengthened by powerful users of the Arc. Constructed in a manner of layering and clever placement to force multiple pinch points and killing zones, these defenses were manned not only by a large number of archers and guards but also by defensive ballista and other similar heavy weapons. Some historians even claim that the walls were not only strengthen by the Arc, but themselves were imbued with it, allowing mages to syphon and use the Arc from the walls in case of a major siege. Such theories however still lack substantial evidence to be considered fact, but do show some signs of merit. (I should note that any attempt to take a piece of the ruined old wall is strictly forbidden and should NOT be attempted by any traveler.)  

Regardless of the specificities of the early defenses of Zorra, the outcome is unequivocally true: it was a fortress without equal. Modern day wisdom holds Ralguard to be the most formidable fortification in Ellonia, but by comparison Ralguard stands meager next to what Zorra would have been at its height. It was because of this strength that the old city became such an important settlement to begin with. This conclusion however raises a few new questions: Why was Old Zorra so heavily fortified to begin with? How did the small ironclad fortress of Old Zorra transform into the sprawling metropolis we know today? And what happened to the impressive fortifications that existed in its earlier years?

All three of these questions are innately tied to the nature of the Age of Monsters itself. As a quick summary for those unaware, the Age of Monsters is the first period in which we find evidence of a written record and, as the name clearly suggests, it seems to have been an incredibly dangerous time in which the monsters that now infrequently roam Valmora; Giants, Dragonkin, Darkbeasts, Arc Monstrosities, etc. were much more prominent and aggressive. Therefore, it stands to reason that all settlements in this early age of civilization, including Zorra, would need to be heavily protected in order to keep the beasts of the realm at bay. (For more information on the Age of Monsters reference my work in “Threats of the Old Age”)

Once the Age of Monsters ended however and the Great Dragon Tyrants pushed out the old monsters and established their complete dominion over Valmora in the next era, the Age of Tyrants, things changed. The great defenses of Zorra and settlements like it were seen at best by the Tyrants as useless relics of a bygone time, or, at worst, as a symbol of defensive defiance against the strength of their dominion. It should come as no surprise then that the defenses of Old Zorra were quickly brought to ruin by the powerful heat of Tyrdol’s breath. The once might walls now no more than a melted ruin.

In the aftermath of their destruction, the foundation for the city that we are familiar with today began to take root. First rebuilding around the melted ruins of the old walls, Zorra began to expand outward. Under the rule of the Great Tyrants, while all civilized people lived in fear of their terrifying overlords, at the very least there was no less fear of outside attack and less need for such drastic fortifications. Because of this, the city was able to grow to previously unseen levels. Over time the city has continued to grow, and defensive walls have been constructed and expanded to meet the needs of that growth.

After the fall of the Great Tyrants and the death of the legendary hero and self-proclaimed King Gaius the Great, Princess Carolina declared she was to be crowned queen in Zorra’s keep. From that day forward the Palace of Dawn has served as the Crown’s residence and Zorra has served as the kingdom’s capital.

Much is still to be learned about the origin of our capital city, and hopefully time and additional research will yield fruitful results. In the meantime however, we must satisfy ourselves with the information we do know, and take pride in the endurance of a city that has its roots in adversity and perseverance, a city whose history is almost as splendid as the settlement itself.