#he’s a horrible person but a horrible person I share some experiences and traits with

[lieslab]

And I heard about the twister that lives inside your heart

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Felix X gn reader

Summary: You breakup with your boyfriend, unable to cope with your rapidly declining terminal illness, but he refuses to let you fight alone.

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 8k

Trigger warning: Terminal illness, stages of grief, hospice care, descriptions of the body shutting down and death.

A/N: This has torn my heart to shreds. If that's me, I can't imagine what you'll experience. Terminal illness is horrible and brings unimaginable pain to everyone involved. To the requestee, I hope this is what you were looking for. Please grab your tissues before you start, you'll need them <3

_ _ _

Feelings could be fatal. Felix knew that. You could call it naivety, but he called it love. Felix knew he loved you from the first day he saw you. The way the breeze flew through your hair and cherry blossom petals rained down behind you. 

Your eyes scanned the area. You were searching for something and it certainly wasn’t the love of your life. When your eyes caught his, a soft pink flushed your cheeks. His freckled cheeks pushed up into a smile, two dimples appeared, and he gave you a brief wave. 

Your own smile grew and you returned his wave. In those few seconds, he threw away the need to rush to the company building. They wouldn’t miss him for a few extra minutes. He introduced himself and you greeted him. Before he knew your name, he knew his heart was yours. 

Such a cliche k-drama moment, he talked about meeting you all the time. Whenever he got the chance, he brought it up. Recounting the way the petals drifted towards your body, as if they were magnetized by your being, just as he was. The sunlight reflected in your eyes in a way that made your soul shine.

Some group members scoffed, shoving their fingers in their ears, waving him away, and throwing shots of disapproving groans. Not yet taken captive by their own lovers, they couldn’t stand such a cheesy romance. Other members felt the opposite way. A brightness when Felix’s head perked up. He spoke with his hands, gesturing and pouring out his endearment for you. People didn’t know Felix without knowing you. 

Jeongin happened to be one of these members. He listened to Felix’s words about you non-stop. When Felix talked about the dates you went on, he took silent notes. If any member could pull someone and make them the happiest person on earth, it was Felix. 

A walking ray of sunlight, hand crafted by Apollo himself. Embedded with charm and charisma. A whimsy childlike wonder coddled his heart and kept him young. Jeongin took note of that, too. 

The cheesy pickup lines. The apology gifts for occasionally doing the wrong thing and hurting your feelings. The special presents, not for a specific reason, but just because he could. Because maybe, deep down, the tiny trinket of your favorite animal would look cute on your side of the nightstand. 

He purchased you some of the things you talked about. The way your eyes always widened and your smile grew. Sometimes, you never fully pulled the gift from the bag all the way. Instead, you leapt into his arms, covering his face with kisses. Treating him with your very own personalized thank-yous.

Felix tried not to talk about you all the time. He knew things existed outside of you, but you were the love of his life. Life is full of beautiful things and you were one of them. He told the world about you. 

From brief conversations with strangers, complimenting their outfits that you shared traits with, to showing you off on his arm at formal events. His heart stitched to yours. Smitten from day one, he thought you’d be his forever. 

Jeongin grew used to this idea as well. So when he awoke to Seungmin shaking him and informing him something was wrong with you and Felix, on a starless night, he panicked. He jerked himself upright with tendrils of dark hair sticking up like he’d been zapped with lightning. 

He shoved himself into a hoodie and slides. Each footstep that landed closer to Felix and Seungmin’s dorm, it brewed anxiety in his chest. You weren’t just Felix’s significant other, you turned into one of Jeongin’s closest friends. He cared about the two of you immensely. 

A soft hand knocked on the outer oakwood of Felix’s bedroom door. “Felix? It’s Innie, please let me in.” 

“Go away.” His voice seeped with sadness. “Just leave me alone, please.” A sniffle followed up his plea. 

It killed him. The idea of his group mate and one of his brothers tucked alone inside his room, he hated it. He took a step forward, pushed open the door, and slid inside. What he saw caused his heart to drop. 

Felix sat up in his bed with his white comforter tucked over his shoulders. His usual honeyed freckles sat red and swollen. Beneath his eyes, tears glistened over the tops of each cheek. 

“Felix, you’re scaring me.” 

“It’s over, Innie. It’s all over.” 

“Huh?” 

“They broke up with me over text. I don’t know what I did. They won’t respond to me. They left a long paragraph, stating they were moving away. What did I do, Innie?” His bottom lip quivered and more tears filled his eyes. “What did I do?” 

“Lix…” His voice came out softly. He imagined all the things he could have done in a split second. A broken sob fell from Felix’s chest. With squeezed shut eyes, he tucked the blanket tighter to his body; trying to seek out the comfort your warmth could no longer provide. 

Behind him, Seungmin stood silently in the doorway. His face fell from the news. The last few days, his brain tuned through the conversations with Felix. No fights. No bitter arguments. From what he remembered, everything had been working out for you two. 

Jeongin stepped forward once and then again. He leaned forward, parading into the bed besides Felix’s body. Just as Felix did to him so many times before, he pushed himself closer to the broken man. 

Occasionally, even the sun needs to experience the comfort and softness of the sky’s blanketing clouds. 

~ ~ ~ 

On a grassy cliff, you overlooked the beach down below. Above you, seagulls squawked and squalled. They swarmed, desperate for food, but you didn’t have any. Nourishment for your own body was the last thing on your mind, let alone food for the birds. 

Silky blue waves pushed white foam against the rocks below. You sent the break up message to Felix and then hit block. Some would call you a coward, but you called it love. Love is always dangerous and this one wasn’t much different. 

For a few minutes, you teetered on the edge of the cliff. Not planning to jump, but rather reminding yourself you were human. You could feel the sea spray from up here. The squawks of life from above. The garbles and playful water splashes of the aquatic life below the crashing waves. 

You existed somewhere in between at this moment. Somewhere between soaring high above the heads of everyone you loved and slipping beneath the gentle waves of the sea. Soft tendrils of bright green grass wrapped around your ankles. They tethered you to earth, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. 

Life has a tendency to knock you down when life is going great. Just when you think you might get to soar, you’re a few feet off the ground and you’re dropped again. Another challenge. A new task and what will it result in? Do you manage to accomplish it with pride, or let it drag you off your feet and pin you to the ground? 

Life felt that way recently. You and Felix were browsing apartments. Nothing too official yet, but just ideas. It had been the next step of your relationship. Eventually, marriage and a house. A family? You debated, but there wasn’t a solid conclusion. You never strayed from that truth until now. 

You loved Felix with your entire heart. When you stayed over at his dorm and awoke to the constellation of freckles, you understood why people loved the stars so much. Patterns and small detailings in between life’s fine print. An entire secret that only few people understood and gained the grasp of. 

Throughout history, multiple people found similar patterns in the sky. They recorded them, gave them names, and pulled stories from them. Felix’s freckles made you an astronomer in your own special way. With a single swipe of your thumb against his cheek, you could recall all the memories. 

His freckles brightened on the sunnier days. In the winter, they paled. You hated when they were dulled over with makeup. He insisted they were still there, but you forced yourself not to reach up with a licked thumb and rub it away. His makeup artists hid them without a second thought. They erased history. 

No matter how hard the next part of your life would be, you had to face it alone. As uncomfortable and unwanted it was, you vowed not to bring him down with you. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t. 

You would not let Felix pull off his helmet and lose himself in the deep dark diagnosis of your terminal illness. Your satellites crashed. The spaceship nosedived. You ran on fumes.

Your brain screamed mayday, but your heart chose peace; death with dignity, even if it hurt. 

~ ~ ~ 

Felix used to sleep peacefully at night. Now he jerked upright with shaky breaths. His arms reached out for you, squirming and grabbing in the darkness, he never found you again. The heartstopping realization that it wasn’t just a dream. This was real life and you were gone from his. 

You blocked his number.

He showed up at your apartment door banging, but you didn’t appear. The door didn’t swing open. He tried to knock on the windows, doing anything he could to reach you through the white siding and aged bricks. You never heard. You weren’t home. 

He moped. His teary face buried into the cold pillow and he screamed. Seungmin’s nights were busted open with the grief of his roommate. The first few times, he rushed into Felix’s room to settle him down. 

It stopped the night Felix locked his door. Seungmin grabbed the knob, but it didn’t turn. Inside, his limbs kicked and tangled in the blankets. Sweat caused his t-shirt to stick to his skin. He shrieked, calling out for you, but you never came. 

Even in his dreams, you never showed up. If it weren’t for the pictures of you in his phone, he might have assumed he dreamt it all. Your bright eyes and familiar smile. Your hands connected together like puzzle pieces. Where did you go? 

He started to take his attention to the night sky. Restless and missing you, he dropped himself in front of his window. Star-filled constellations, the ones you compared his freckles to. What a privilege it was to be seen in nature. 

When a glowing white orb swooped across the night sky, he weakly whispered your name. Nothing else mattered besides you. Where did you go? Somewhere beneath the blanket of darkness, you had to be drawn to something, or maybe someone. 

Did he do something wrong? It wasn’t cheating. Arguments hadn’t occurred in quite a while. The two of you hated bucking heads and when you did, you were both sure to come to a conclusion, or pause the high-filled emotions to walk away for a break. 

“You walked away, but you’ll come back, right? Come back to me, baby.” Moonlight reflected in his teary eyes. He clutched his arms around himself tighter, wishing it was you. “Just… just come back.” 

He barely uttered your name before collapsing and burying a sob in his hand, trying not to awaken Seungmin. 

~ ~ ~ 

It took a few days before you agreed to meet with Jeongin, but you didn’t go to his dorm. You couldn’t tell Felix about this. You didn’t want to tell Jeongin, but when he called you in a shaky voice, you knew he was crying. It broke your heart. If this was Jeongin, you couldn’t imagine how Felix must feel. 

You texted him the address and waited inside the set of double glass doors. Behind you, a bright pastel yellow soaked the walls. Bright and happy colors to try and pull you away from your impending doom. You tried to stay positive, but gloom haunted these halls. 

You sensed it on the first day you moved in. Assigned to a small room with an attached bathroom. A closet to hold clothes, a desk with a single chair, and a TV stand welded into the wall with a flat screen TV. 

The lilac bedding mocked you. The sage green walls reminded you of life. All the lush green things you’d leave behind. The simplest things like the scallions topping your scrambled eggs and the color of your favorite body wash. 

Those that were more prominent; soft grass beneath your feet, the earthy and warm scent of ozone when rain approached darkened skies, the towering green swaying in the wind when you looked up in the middle of the forest. 

The staff tried to make the outdoors exciting. Black metal benches perched around the exterior. In the back, a garden adorned with flowers blossoming in every direction. Ivy grown arches you could walk beneath. Stone bird baths that bright birds dipped their heads in and shimmied their feathers, no matter the weather. 

You grew to hate the birds. Their happy warbles, their chirps, and the way they could flutter away from their problems with ease. You wished you could be a bird, it’d be so much easier than this. 

When you spotted Jeongin’s car pull into the parking lot and enter a space, you finally pushed open one of the glass doors to approach him. He slowly stepped out of his car, staring at the red-bricked building in shock. 

“Why are you-” 

“Living in a hospice center? Because I was thinking about pregnancy and bringing another life into this earth.” You weakly chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but Jeongin’s head shook. 

“Why are you really here?” 

“Because I’m dying, Jeongin.” 

His face fell. You stared at him, taking in every small detail. The straight dark brows and half-moon eyes. Your heart would inflate with happiness when you made him laugh so hard, he leaned back and squeezed his eyes shut. As if shutting his eyes would make the humor disappear. Usually, it’d lead into more teasing and taunting. Today, an empty silence blanketed the two of you. 

“What?” 

“I have a terminal illness.” 

“Terminal?” 

“I can’t be cured, Jeongin.” You tried to smile and reassure him that you’d be fine, but you couldn’t get the corners of your mouth to lift high enough. 

You pulled away from the people you loved because you denied it. Because maybe you couldn’t see their faces, feel their warmth, and go to bed at night, only for your brain to remind you that you’d be gone soon. 

Terminal illness cannot be cured. Incurable. Irreversible. A punishment that nobody expects, but humans are doomed to fall victim to it, regardless. 

When cancer riddles your body and leaves you broken.

When the brain’s functions decline and your cognitive ability starts to speed downhill like an olympic winter toboggan. 

When disease infects a vital organ and tears apart the relationship it has with your body, it starts shutting down. 

A variety of different kinds are out there. You just never thought it’d be you. Not at this age. Not at this point in your life. Not now. 

You just started to live, but death is greedy. It takes and it takes and it takes. It is never enough. Death will never have enough. Hands soaked with blood and an engorged stomach full of souls and their fading warmth. Today, it looms behind you. Tomorrow, it steps closer. 

Anxiety burrows and nausea builds, but we never escape it. There is no leaving this life without the help of death. Whether you deny it, or accept it, you denied it. Death is cruel and you learned it at a young age. 

Family dinners grew smaller as it picked out family members. It took pets from the safety of the four walls that you called home. How do you live with the realization that you are meant to die sooner than most? 

“You need to tell Lix. He’s broken without you. He’s miserable and-” 

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I can’t do that to him and I won’t. He can’t know about this, Jeongin. This will destroy him.” 

“It’ll destroy him more if he doesn’t know you’re suffering through this alone.” 

“Innie...” 

“Please, you-” 

“Jeongin!” You snapped as tears burned in your lower lids. “I can’t tell my boyfriend I’m dying! I-I just-” Your bottom lip quivered. “I-I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” 

Sensing you were about to break, he reached out to steady you. That’s when your arms wrapped around him tightly. You sobbed in his arms, terrified of it all. What did you do to deserve this? How do you cope with the anxiety and accept that death is striding towards you without stopping? 

Your own body, the thing saving you since birth, it’s not enough to shield your soul. Some higher power, some natural thing, it comes no matter what. 

What a curse that your death came before your life could really begin. 

~ ~ ~ 

The hospice center was imprinted on the inside of Jeongin’s eyelids. He couldn’t sleep. The nurses from earlier kept him up. How anyone found comfort by working with the dying, he didn’t know. People shouldn’t have to die, but they did. 

Blocks away, you laid on your deathbed and Felix didn’t know. You knew, Jeongin knew, but not Felix. With each breath, the balloon of guilt grew. What if you died without Felix being able to say goodbye? It’d kill him. The guilt would drown him. 

In a spur of the moment decision, he shoved off his blankets and pushed them off. He slipped on his slides, grabbed his car keys, and headed outside. On the way out of the dorm he shared with Chan, he dialed Felix’s number. 

After midnight, Felix was half asleep at the window. Curled on the floor with a cheek pressed against the window seal, his eyes groggily opened at the sound of a vibration. He sniffled and sat up, swiping at the phone to answer the call. “Hello?” 

“Felix?” 

“Innie, are you okay? You sound worried. What’s wrong?” He sat up with a yawn. Brushing back his messy hair, he adjusted the phone to his ear when Jeongin blubbered. “What did you say?” 

“I need you to come meet me in the driveway with my car in it.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“You need to know something.” 

“I’m coming.” He rushed into the apartment’s entryway and shoved his feet into his still-tied shoes. Jeongin hung up on him, waiting for his arrival. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Felix appeared less than two minutes with his phone still in his hand. “Hey, are you alright?” 

Tears pricked at Jeongin’s eyes and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I need to tell you. I called and talked to-” 

Felix cut him off and stepped forward. “Really? They answered the phone? Are they okay?” 

The words vacuumed from his throat. How do you tell someone you love their significant other is dying? You were back in a bed, surrounded by the fading souls of others, slowly dying. He shook his head frantically and pawed at his eyes with his sweater. 

“They’re at a hospice facility. They said it’s a terminal illness, Lix.” 

He couldn’t breathe. His dark eyes stayed focused on Jeongin. Through the dark, he reached out and gripped his wrist. “What kind of sick fucking joke are you playing, Jeongin?” He squeezed his wrist tighter, too afraid to face the truth. 

“You’re hurting me,” he whispered. He tried to tug away, but Felix squeezed harder. “I can take you there. I’ll take you there right now. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep it a secret. I can’t watch you suffer. Neither of you. I-I can’t.” 

“How long do they have left?” 

“The doctors are saying three months at most.” 

“What hospice place?” 

“The one right by the catholic church on-” 

Felix didn’t wait for an answer. He spun around and took off into the darkness of the night. Jeongin called his name, but he didn’t stop. You were dying and he didn’t know. You didn’t break up with him because you hated him, you called it quits because you were dying. 

White street lights blurred through his tears. Each one put  a spotlight on his silhouette. Cruel higher powers watched in mockery. What happened to God and prayers? What happened to prayers being answered? 

He couldn’t breathe. The air in his lungs ran out back in the driveway. It came out in whimpers and pants for air. His throat suffocated. You weren’t meant for the earth to take back. The ground couldn’t hold you like he could. It wasn’t warm enough. You’d never be able to see the sun from six feet below. 

Immortalization and praise. Paradise and pleasure. The family he’d never get to start. His legs pushed harder, he ran faster. The wind roared through his hair and he screamed your name in the darkness. 

He wanted an outstretched hand. An explanation. A cure. Something to bring you back and keep you alive. He’d give it all up to save you. Whatever organ you needed, you could have his. He’d die if it meant you could stay alive. Anything you needed, he’d give it. He’d give his everything to keep you safe. 

The heavy thumps of his heart, the ticking time bomb of yours. Every breath he took, another you lost. He ran in your direction, stumbling and screeching your name. You slept soundlessly in a dreamless sleep. 

Near the end of the road, the curb caught his ankle. He jerked forward, shoving out his hands to stop himself. The pavement scraped and drew blood. God kicked him in the back, a reminder that not even the bravest and loyalist believers could stop his will from unwinding. 

Shaky breaths turned into choked out sobs. A dog with no home. A lover with no life. You were everything to him. What happens when everything is ripped away? When the goals are jerked from the journal before the accomplishments? Your body withered away and yet, you still craved life. 

Headlights shone behind him. He dropped to the ground defeated. His fingernails dug into the concrete and a sob escaped his throat. Familiar voices called his name. Chan got there before Jeongin. 

He pulled up the younger member and tugged him to his chest tight. Felix uttered your name again, unable to stop the louder sobs. The current of life changed. The tides shifted and pulled you under. 

You cannot always save the people you love, especially not in the snarling face of death. 

~ ~ ~ 

In the morning, you awoke to something soft stroking your cheek. You mumbled Jeongin’s name, thinking he somehow stumbled into your room. Instead, you found the familiar eyes of your boyfriend. His lips quivered before they smiled. 

“Hi, there.” 

“Lix?” 

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry. Jeongin told me everything and I’m not leaving you on your own for this.” 

You couldn’t be mad. Maybe, deep down, you told Jeongin because you knew he’d tell Felix. It’d take the pressure off of you. You’d never be able to explain it in full detail without breaking down. 

Perhaps, you’d been chasing your tail in denial because now that Felix was here, acceptance slipped between the two of you. A silent, but necessary evil. Neither of you could stop this ending. You’d try to do whatever it took, but people don’t leave hospice alive. 

“I should be the one apologizing,” you whispered. “I was selfish.” 

“You were scared. This is scary. It’s better to be scared together.” 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. I feel like I ruined you. I made you fall in love and now…” 

“You could never disappoint me.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you and you’re mine.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Scoot over. I’m not leaving you here to fight this alone.” 

~ ~ ~ 

You loved one another endlessly and it flowed effortlessly. Your love ended in a doomsday. Your time was limited. Felix took a hiatus, wanting to be there with you through everything. 

You refused to let your terminal illness break you. The first two weeks, it almost felt like staying at a hotel, if you took away the staff members coming in to check on you. Felix stayed with you after purchasing an air mattress. He refused to let you be alone. 

In the third week, he brought you a notebook and a pen. You stared at it with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this for?” 

“I figured you could make a bucket list.” 

“But I’m in hospice?” 

“It doesn’t mean you can’t dream. I mean, they probably won’t recommend you go skydiving, but there’s other things you can do.” 

He leaned forward, gently taking the pen from your hand. He wrote a bullet point and the words ‘fancy dinner.’ You glanced over and chuckled. “Really?” 

“What? I’m thinking of something really nice. Whatever you want, just let me know. Steak? Sushi? Korean Barbeque? You just let me know and we’ll go.” He reached over, gently booping the tip of your nose with the pen, and placed it back in your dominant hand. 

You glanced down at the empty stripes of notebook paper. A bucket list wasn’t really something you thought much of, especially now that you were in hospice. You bit your lip, wanting to think of something. 

“I’ve got it!” You jerked forward, scribbling something out. “That’s what I wanna do.” 

Felix’s face softened. “Really? You mean it?” 

“A hundred percent. Of course, I mean it. I don’t know how. Not enough time, but I think if we-” 

“We’ll figure it out.” 

You nodded and your eyes met his. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and hugging you in a tight hug. A quick kiss to your nose, right where the pen tapped you. Your arms returned the favor. A soft sigh escaped your lips and you relaxed. 

You’d be okay dying in his arms like this. ~ ~ ~ 

Death lingered, but you roared. Using what time you had left, you did it all. In a final trip at the grocery store, you and Felix argued over what flavor of milk was better. Strawberry or chocolate? It lasted nearly the entire shopping trip. 

The two of you went back to his dorm. Seungmin went over to bother Changbin and Hyunjin. You’d seen the guys in passing, but you didn’t see them too much. They all grew fond of you. Seeing you now and knowing you’d be gone soon, it was a hard pill to swallow. 

“You’re going to burn the vegetables!” You called over your shoulder. 

“Hey! No, I’m not!” Felix laughed and stirred the multicolored veggies in the pan. “Shut up and focus on your own dish.” 

“Telling a dying person to shut up is crazy work.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that! Come ‘er!” 

You let him grab your waist and spin you around. A dizziness settled over you. You smiled, regardless. His hands slipped to your hips and he gently squeezed. The fullness of your body melted away the less and less you consumed. 

Your fancy dinner turned into a home cooked meal. Not that you were complaining, it beat hospice food. You were due to return there later tonight. Until then, you and Felix were up to your usual antics. 

You teased him and he teased you. You playfully bumped into one another, careful enough not to cause accidents. Felix placed you in a kiss the cook apron. Every time he could, he snuck kisses on your bare skin. Not sure how much time you had left, he took advantage of it. 

You squeaked and shivered as he pushed another soft kiss into the back of your neck. “You can’t do that! That’s cheating!” 

He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. You spun around, reaching out to weakly grip his throat. You started to laugh, but it turned to coughing. The playful energy in the air ceased instantly. 

“Easy, easy. I’m sorry.” He pushed your hair back from your face. “Deep breath in and out.” His other hand went to your back, rubbing it to support you. “Do you need some water?” 

You nodded, a little embarrassed you ruined the fun. Just when you forgot you were dying, it came back to bite you in the ass. A brutal reminder that each second between the two of you was precious. 

He gently squeezed your shoulder before walking away and heading to the cupboard. He grabbed a glass and you forced slow deep breaths. Your body shut down more and more as the days went by. 

You could feel it. Your limbs felt heavier. Your body, more sluggish. Your brain became slower. Thoughts were on the tip of your tongue and then disappeared. 

When he reappeared with a glass of ice water, he pushed it to your chapped lips. You tipped your head back and slowly sipped. It soothed the aching sides of your throat. For whatever reason, your mouth felt drier; an interior sahara desert that you couldn’t shake. 

“Let’s take it easier, yeah?” 

You hummed. He pulled the water away and sat it on the counter. You hated to admit it, but the hospice staff were right. They allowed you to venture out with Felix, as long as  you were up for it, but warned you that as time went on, you probably wouldn’t have the energy. 

All the extra oomph and fun on your bucket list, you had to make adjustments. Hospice staff wanted you checked in at certain times. You were supposed to be an inpatient. You assumed they let you slip out more than usual because you were younger. 

Some of the older people were stuck in their beds. Heavy limbs, death rattles, and the faint whirring of oxygen tanks. Death wasn’t a constant thing. Some people had a few weeks and others were like you, they had a few months left. 

Regardless, a hospice inpatient center wasn’t a good place for a rowdy couple still head-over-heels in love. You wanted to run. They lectured you. When you laughed too hard at something Felix said while a nurse checked on you, she shot the two of you an unamused glare.

Not because she was mean, but because she grew worried. All the laughing and screwing around, it wasted your energy. You didn’t want to conserve it. You couldn’t. Death was coming and your time was still limited. 

“Felix?” 

“Yeah, babe?” 

“I think we should do that last thing on our bucket list this week.” 

He glanced back to look at you over his shoulder. His heart ached, knowing what that meant, but he nodded. “I’ll talk to the guys and we’ll do it.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Stop getting so sappy, you’re going to make me burn the vegetables.” He stuck his tongue out and laughed at you. 

“You started it!” 

~ ~ ~ 

Two days later, the two of you stood in thrifted outfits. You held hands out in the back of Chan and Jeongin’s dorm. The rest of the guys speckled around. Jeongin stood with a bible open. “I’m so glad I get to carry out my dream of becoming a priest before you die.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The guys sat in a plethora of lawn chairs. Jeongin stood beneath a gazebo and glanced between you and Felix. “Are the two of you ready to begin?” The sun and the guys became your witnesses. 

You nodded and Felix agreed. His thumbs slowly brushed along the back of your hand. Jeongin sighed and read off a random passage of vows he found online. “Do you take Lee Felix to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

Felix blinked rapidly, squeezing your hands a little tighter. You smiled and nodded your head. “I do.” 

“And Felix, do you take-” 

“Shut up. I do. Of course, I do. Lawfully wedded spouse, from this day forward, better, or worse, or whatever. In sickness and until death do us part. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t care about that part. I just want to kiss you.” 

In the background, laughter appeared. Jeongin sighed and shut the bible. “Well, I guess I didn’t need that. Go ahead, you may kiss the-” 

Gasps filled the air. You squealed. Felix wrapped an arm around you and dipped you down, causing one of your feet to leave the ground. When the warmth of his lips met yours, your hands cupped his cheeks. 

Jeongin blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. A few of the others looked the same way. When Felix pulled away and placed you back on your feet, a warm and fuzzy feeling filled your heart. He grinned at you and booped your nose. 

“Alright,” Chan clapped in the background and shoved himself to his feet. “It’s time to cook the lamb and sides. Who wants to do what?” 

When you offered to do something, he shook his head and waved you away with Felix. “I think Felix wanted to discuss something with you.” He winked at Felix and spun around, dishing out roles to the other guys. 

You glance back to find Felix. He smiled and grabbed your hand. “Yeah, sorry. I wanted to do the ring exchange away from everyone.” 

“Oh, I forgot about the rings. That’s one of the most important parts and I-” 

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” He grabbed your hand and led you away from the guys and the grill. Across the way, he stopped in his and Seungmin’s backyard. 

As carefully as he could, he pulled out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal two rings. Your face softened instantly. “They’re gorgeous.” The pair of rings sat snug between black velvet padding.

“I got us both rings with our birthstone colors. Mine is sapphire, but it doesn’t matter. You can either pick that, or yours. It’s entirely up to you.” 

“I want yours. I want to take a piece of you with me to the grave.” 

“Do you have to remind me that you’re dying so often?” 

“I can’t let you forget.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes, grabbed the sapphire jeweled ring, and slowly placed it on your ring finger. You picked out yours and grabbed his hand. You hesitated for a moment, noting how warm his hands were. Lately, yours has lost their warmth far too quickly for your liking. 

“Hey, are you okay? It’s okay if you want that ring, really, it-” 

“I’m okay. Just thinking.” You slipped the ring on his ring finger and held it up to the sparkling sun. “This fits you well. It looks beautiful with your skin tone.” 

“And the band color matches. Look at us. We did it! Kinda. We’re married! In theory, that’s all that matters.” 

You laughed and nodded. He reached out, cupping the side of your cheek. He kissed your forehead affectionately and pulled back. “Before we go back to the others, I wanted to read something I wrote to you.” 

He pulled a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his suit and stepped back. “If you were to tell me our love story would end with you dying months ago, I would have laughed. I would have dubbed it absurd and moved on with my life. Over these past few weeks, my world has shattered, b-but-” He choked up. “You’ve managed to help me rebuild it in ways that I didn’t think possible.” 

“I’ve always feared death. I’ve hated it. It’s sat on my shoulder and haunted me since I was younger. Out of the two of us, you’re the first to cross the rainbow bridge. I like to think that heaven is as big and beautiful as you imagine it to be.” 

“Whatever happens, it must be good because people usually don’t return from death.” A weak chuckle fell from your throat and he continued. “But please know, you’re welcome to come back at any time. If you find out that you can haunt people, my house is always open.” 

He didn’t dare look up at you. Not yet. “Our love is immeasurable for one another. I don’t think the spirit realm can stop it either. The devil can try, but I believe we’re untouchable and-” 

He shook his head and wrinkled the ball of paper. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid. I should have worked better on it.” 

“Nah, I’m glad you let me know I can haunt you. I’m going to take you up on that offer. Maybe try a ouija board or something? We’ll come up with a code word to let you know I’m okay.” 

“Like?” 

“Maybe a symbol, or something.” You shrugged. “I’ve always thought Monarch butterflies were pretty.” 

“Monarchs it is.” 

“Speaking of butterflies,” you reached down and took something from your own pocket. “I didn’t write vows because I couldn’t think of any, but I bought a disposable camera. I thought maybe we could take photos throughout today and the next few days. You can look back on them after I’m gone.” 

“That’s really beautiful. Can I take one of you?” You nodded. He turned on the camera, stepped back, and adjusted the frame. When he found the right angle he clicked, lighting up your eyes with a bright flash.

“You’re a natural at posing.”

You stared at him for a moment. A halo of sunlight shrouded you. He wanted to remember this brief moment forever. Your eyes went to the ground before finding his “Felix?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t want to die,” you finally admitted. Tears filled your eyes. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to go alone.” 

He leaned forward, shutting off the camera, and wrapping you in a hug. He pulled your head to his chest. “I don’t think you’ll be alone. It’s been documented that some people see their passed loved ones before they go. I think they’ll be waiting for you on the other side.” 

“You really think so?” 

“I hope so. I want to see my grandma again. If you see her, please give her the biggest hug for me, will you? She always gave the best hugs.” 

Your arms tightened around him. Your head dipped against his chest. His heart beat rhythmically. A painful pang of envy cut through you and you hated yourself for it. It wasn’t his fault your body was giving up. 

You sniffled. Tears soaked his suit, but he didn’t complain. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he gently placed the point of his chin on top of your head. His arms shielded you. You should have physically lived forever. His heart wasn’t the right place to carry your memory. He wanted you here forever. 

His eyes went over to the side. A few yards over, the guys talked and laughed. This was hard on them too, but they tried not to let the two of you see how much it bothered them. Death was hard for everyone. It wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t fair that all these people he loved would be gone one day. Where would they end up? How? How do we keep going after the people we love are gone? Being human is such a poetic tragedy. So much beauty. So much pain. A chaotic mindfuck of emotions, too short and insufferably long; how rare and beautiful it is to exist. 

“When the time is right, I’m going to come find you and hold you just like this,” Felix finally uttered. 

“Promise?” 

“Of course, I promise.” 

“And in the meantime, you have to keep making good music. I’ll come back to haunt you. You should talk to me and tell me how life is. I’ll find a way to communicate, somehow.” 

“I believe it.” 

You pulled away from his chest and sniffled again. “Are we deluding ourselves?” 

“Probably, but it feels better that way.” He pressed another kiss to the tip of your nose. “We should probably go before the food gets done and the guys eat it all. Changbin and Han would.” 

“It’s not nice to throw them under the bus like that.” You took his hand and led him back to them. 

“It’s true and you know it. After this? We’ll have some of that cake I made.” 

About that time, Hyunjin came out of the back door with a square sheet of cake and a candle. Not yet lit, he slowly walked it over to the pair. The happy birthday song left his lips. Right as he nearly approached, he stumbled and slipped. 

Gasps sounded and Hyunjin shrieked. He jerked upright with wide eyes. The cake crumbled into pieces. He peeked out from beneath the vanilla buttercream frosting on his face. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-” 

“Why did you sing happy birthday?” You asked. 

“I couldn’t think of a wedding song from the top of my head.”

You lost it. A giggle burst from your stomach. You laughed, curling down and clutching your stomach. Felix joined in and the rest hesitated. Changbin was the first to break into high pitched laughter, pointing at Hyunjin. Hyunjin threw him the middle finger and that broke the rest of them.

Han reached down, pulled a fingerful of cake from Hyunjin’s cheek, and put it in his mouth. “Wow, it’s still good. Great job, Yongbok. Hyunjin, uh-” He glanced down. “You should learn to walk better.” 

“I’ll kill you!” Hyunjin’s dark eyes widened and a hand clamped over his mouth. “Wrong thing. I didn’t mean to say that. I just-” He got up and bowed to you. Cake crumbs and rich white icing slathered his face and suit. Feeling horrible, he wanted to disappear. When he bowed, bits of destroyed cake hit the ground. 

You couldn’t be mad. None of you could. Nothing about this was traditional. It was one last party. A marriage. A celebration of life. It was everything tied all together. Later, your family and more friends were showing up. 

Everything all at once because your tomorrow wasn’t promised. 

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning at Felix. “Hey, we might as well take another picture and put that camera to good use.” 

~ ~ ~ 

You died three days later. After that last big hoo-rah, you dwindled quite rapidly. You tried to put on a brave face for Felix and everyone, but he saw through your exhausted facade quickly. 

For those three days, it was a lot of quiet conversation in the stillness of the hospice room. The sage green walls and the chirps of the birds from your open window. You shifted to watch them, unable to stand watching the television. 

Everything ached. It didn’t hurt, it just ached, as if you ran an entire marathon without stretching and pacing yourself. IV fluids pumped you full of meds, trying to make the last bits of life as comfortable for you as possible. 

Felix forced himself to harness peace in the moments of your sleeping silence. When your chest rose and fell, a sure sign you were still alive. He pushed your hair from your face, gently planting kisses on your colorless skin. 

The warm color disappeared. As your illness strengthened inside you, you weakened. You tried to be the bigger person, hiding your fear, but on that last night, you knew your time was coming. 

You curled up to Felix, unable to let go. You didn’t eat. Instead, you shifted to his chest, listening to the steady wallop of his heart. “Felix?” You whispered

“Hmm?” 

“I think my biggest fear isn’t death itself. I think it’s leaving you behind. I gave you all my love for nothing. I feel like I gave you this burden.” 

“You’re not a burden and this isn’t a burden. Don’t talk like that.” He wiped a tear away from your cheek. “You’ve been my greatest adventure.” 

Your bottom lip quivered. “You mean it?” 

“Every last word.” 

You stayed entangled like that for hours until he had to use the bathroom. You were half asleep, drifting away. He kissed the top of your temple and then your nose, promising to be right back. It only took a few minutes, but it was long enough. 

When he came back and shifted you, he jerked back as if he’d been slapped. He sprinted away, calling for assistance. The pastel yellow walls mocked him. Tears filled his eyes as he explained the situation to one of the nurses. The stillness and fading warmth of your skin.

In your final act of mercy, you waited to go until he was tucked safely in the bathroom. He didn’t see the way your sleepy eyes followed him into the bathroom. Your breath caught in your chest after he shut the door. You couldn’t get it back, but you didn’t panic. 

Your body filled with helium. You floated. One last final gasp and your eyes drifted shut. A soul laid to rest, slipping to the other side, and diving into the sympathy of warmth. 

You left the world knowing you were loved and even if it was short, that was the most important part. 

~ ~ ~ 

At the funeral, the heaviness wasn’t as bad as Felix expected. Of course, he missed you. They all did. Maybe it hurt a little less because they knew it was coming. He stole as many kisses as he could. The next would have to wait until he joined you on the other side. 

He blotted his eyes as the preacher spoke. In the cemetery burial, he spoke to your loved ones. Sniffling and teary eyed, Jeongin stepped up beside him. “Felix?” 

“Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder. 

“Why does death have to be so hard?” 

“Because it can’t live. It takes lives because of envy. It tries to capture and cage something it can never obtain.” 

“I miss them.” 

“Me too.” 

He pulled a white rose from a vase and approached your coffin. Jeongin tagged along behind him. Felix stepped up first. He glanced at the stained wood, hoping that wherever you were, you finally found peace. He placed the white rose in the center of the coffin. 

Before he could speak, something tickled his hand. Glancing down, the fluttering wings of a monarch butterfly. Tears welled in his eyes immediately. “You missed me so much, you came back this quickly, huh?” 

Behind him, Jeongin peered over Felix’s shoulder. “Is that a monarch butterfly? What is it doing here? It’s too early for monarchs.” He stepped forward and slowly eased his rose next to Felix’s. 

“It’s them,” he whispered. The wings flapped again and went to the edge of his suit. He blinked wet eyes and smiled. “I love you.” 

Just as Jeongin was about to remove his hand from the coffin, Felix gasped. Jeongin’s head turned and his eyes widened. On the tip of Felix’s nose, the winged creature sat unbothered. 

“Woah, didn’t you used to always kiss their nose?” 

“I called them my butterfly kisses.” Silent tears trickled down his cheeks. “They came back. One more kiss before they go.” 

I love you, too.

After a few more seconds, the butterfly flapped its wings and took off. Their eyes followed it higher and higher into the air. They exchanged another look and Felix smiled. He chuckled and wipe away falling tears

You might not be there in person anymore, but you’d always be with them in spirit. 

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[crowsoundsonly]

dr. barnes

pair: fbi instructor!professor!bucky barnes x fem!student!reader

word count: ~6.5k

summary: you ask for some advice from your reclusive and very attractive professor.

warnings: teacher student relationship so slight age gap but i had pictured it being less than 10 years, super soft bucky, smut at the end (~1.3k), fingering (f rec) but not super descriptive, crime scene descriptions, descriptions of blood, some christian/religious references at the crime scenes, (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: this one held me hostage for weeks. i literally could not stop thinking about it. do i have uni exams this week? yes. but did i spend my time writing this? also yes. i hope you guys like it !!

“Explain the killer. What does he do? What motivates him? How would you catch him? A thousand words printed by the next class. Have a good weekend,” your professor, Dr. Barnes, announces with a nod, cueing the shuffling of laptops and bags belonging to FBI trainees eager to get home on a Friday afternoon.

You load up your things, your mind still thinking about the brutal crime scene photos shown on the slides of the lecture today that made your stomach turn over. While you know you have chosen to be at the FBI, you can’t help but wonder sometimes what you are doing there. Your degree in psychology and doctorate in criminology has led you to the FBI Academy, but your mind still swirls when the most horrible acts of violence are placed in front of you. You chalk it up to you retaining your humanity and sanity, so you are not exactly upset over the fact. It just makes your job more difficult.

Dr. Barnes’ class is always the most brutal, but it is by far the most fascinating class you have. It does help that your professor is the most fascinating part, being very good looking and extremely private. He shares very little personal information, telling you only that he used to work homicide at the police department before beginning teaching. You notice that he does not talk to students often, simply giving his lectures, packing up and leaving after the sea of students flood into the hallways.

You are curious about him, about what he is like when he is not lecturing, and figuring that you have little to lose, you decide to come back after your classes to ask for some help. 

…

“Dr. Barnes?” you call out as you step into the lecture hall that is still lit, leaving you to believe that someone is there. You take a few more steps and find your professor sitting at his desk, photos piled around, staring intently at the laptop in front of him. He makes no movement to acknowledge you, his focus completely locked onto his work.

You walk all the way up to his desk, repeating his name which does little to deter him. You reach a hand out and give his shoulder a slight squeeze, causing him to jump in his seat and look up at you, eyes wide. 

“Sorry, Dr. Barnes. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

At your words, he scans your face, recognition dawning on his features. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he says quietly, his eyes focusing on the books you are holding in your hands. 

“It’s okay, Dr. Barnes,” you assure him.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he trails off a bit at the end of his question, asking for your name in its absence.

You fill in your name and explain, “I just have a question. I’m writing a paper for another class and was hoping that you could give me some insight on the topic. I’m really just looking for another perspective.”

“Of course,” he says as he leans back in his chair. There is not another chair, so you take to sitting on the edge of his desk.

“The paper is about female serial killers, and I was wondering what you think the most common traits and motives are. We have discussed some examples in class, but I wanted to ask what your experience has been.”

He thinks for a moment, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “They usually work in health care professions. They’ll, um, they will be married or have been married before. They usually kill to improve their situation, so they’ll target people they know, usually men. But not all women,” he stops and looks up at you before continuing to explain a case he had while working homicide where they investigated a series of killings that followed the signs of a male killer but ended up being a woman. 

Dr. Barnes runs a hand through his hair when he finishes, leaning back in his chair. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in this position and at this angle. His dark hair tousled and glasses twirling between his thumbs, you think about how it would feel to reach out and feel his hair between your fingers. You school yourself, your face becoming hot at the idea. He is your professor, and you would do well to remember that. 

You continue the conversation, asking him questions and prodding for more insight. When you figure you have taken up enough of his time, you bow your head a bit and begin getting up from your place on the desk.

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Barnes. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

He nods in acknowledgment, a small smile adorning his lips which you watch perhaps a little too intently as he says. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

You begin walking toward the door of the lecture hall but are stopped by your name being called out.

“Would you actually mind taking a look at these pictures? I’d like to know what you see.”

You turn back around. The look on his face is one of curiosity. You wonder why he would want to ask you, and part of you wants to believe that it is because he wants you to stay, but you know better. 

“Sure,” you shrug, making your way back to his desk. “I’m not sure I’ll be of much help, though”

“Just take a look. It’s not a test, if that’s what you’re worried about,” your professor says, standing up to hand you the crime scene photos.

They are gruesome, but you don’t know what else you could have expected with Dr. Barnes. You examine them all the while trying to ignore the way he leans over your shoulder as you fail to concentrate. You are so close that if you took a single step back, you would be flush to him. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you focus your attention on the photos, flipping through them, noticing the odd blood splatter near the baseboard that doesn’t have a body laying anywhere near it. 

“What would make the killer climb on top of the counter to shoot someone, get down, and move the body?” you think out loud as you turn your head to look at Dr. Barnes. You notice how close your faces are and let out a breath at the discovery. “Dominance?” your voice is more shaky than you wanted it to sound.

“I was hoping you could tell me. My guess is they were waiting there, but it still doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking past you and to the picture you are holding. You look back down as well, grateful you did not make eye contact, the idea of the intimacy of it alarming.

“If they were standing on it, that would make sense, but the angle doesn’t really fit. It seems as if they were waiting for them to get home, and they sat, swinging their legs, completely calm and casual about shooting this person,” you pause, mulling over your words before saying, “Maybe they even knew this person. The proximity to the counter could mean that the victim was comfortable enough to approach them, and that the victim was unaware of what was going to happen.”

He hums in agreement in your ear, and a feeling of satisfaction washes over you. Turning back around, you hand the photos to your professor and take a step back. 

“I think you may be right,” he says with a nod, a small smile again creeping onto his features. You make eye contact and keep it, somewhat entranced by it.

“I’m glad I was able to help,” you smile. “Thanks again, Dr. Barnes. Have a good night.”

…

You anticipate going back to classes on Monday, knowing that you have to attend Dr. Barnes’ lecture. You don’t know if anything will be different after the night you spent talking to your professor. Part of you knows that nothing should be different. While there are only a few years between you, you are still his student.

But part of you wants things to be different. The entire weekend, you could not get out of your head the image of his face so close to yours or the sight of him as he leaned back in his chair, legs casually falling open. 

Dr. Barnes is not in the lecture hall when you arrive for which you are grateful. You settle into your seat and wait for the lecture to begin by fiddling with your laptop. When your professor does come in, you notice that he combed his hair today, letting it fall neatly over his forehead. The plaid shirt he wears still doesn’t match his suit, but you find it charming. He slips his glasses on and begins teaching.

The whole lecture you try valiantly to focus on the subject, but you fail rather miserably, unable to think of anything but how you stood right where he is, your back a foot away from his chest with him humming in your ear. It is going to be a long term if this is how every lecture is going to go.

You are brought back to reality when Dr. Barnes makes eye contact with you. He smiles which you quickly reciprocate, then he turns around, gesturing to the screen before anyone notices.

It is definitely going to be a long semester.

…

Weeks go on with you and Dr. Barnes smiling at each other from afar, both of you knowing that you would be playing with fire if you do anything more than smile. But the longer you go simply smiling, the more you want to do something about it.

And one day, he does something about it. On your way out of the lecture hall, Dr. Barnes stops you, calling out your name. You walk over, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

“I’ve another case I’d like your opinion on. Do you have time tonight to take a look?” he asks you quietly so as to not draw the attention of the students still exiting the room.

“Yes. Here at 7:30?”

He nods, making a flash of eye contact which you return with a smile. 

…

You make your way to Dr. Barnes’ lecture hall, your stomach roiling with nerves. You have thought too much about him, fantasized a little often for you to not think about it when you talk to him. The soles of your shoes click on the tile as you walk the hallway. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Dr. Barnes is reclined behind his desk, crime scene photos in his hand as he flips through them intently. At your entrance, his head flicks up to find your figure approaching his desk.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he says as he stands up. 

“Hi, yeah. It’s – yeah it’s no problem, Dr. Barnes,” you manage to get out, tripping over your words more than you would have liked. Another deep breath to collect yourself. “What can I do to help?”

He leans against the front of his desk and reaches behind him to grab the photos he was examining before. You take a few steps closer to grab them from his outstretched hand.

“A recent set of murders. It’s odd to say the least,” he starts, watching you intently as you study the photos. 

The scene is horrifying, blood smeared across the walls, not as blood spray or splatter, but in an image. A lamb. Your mind spins as you look through more of the pictures, each of them showing blood splashed on the walls. You wonder what the killer did in order to get that much blood. There is too much for it to have come from just one body.

“How many people were found dead?”

“Only one,” he answers, leaning in to help you find the image of the body heaped over the table. You can’t help but notice everywhere his body touches yours, how his breath flutters against your neck, but you cast those thoughts away to focus on the case at hand.

“There had to have been more. There’s too much blood,” you mumble as you cart through the images again, counting as you go. A beat passes as you take in the scene, contemplating before constructing ideas.

“What do you see?”

“In ancient religious practices, a lamb would be sacrificed and the blood would be sprinkled around seven times. There are seven places where the blood was thrown on the wall,” you pause to show him each one. You glance up at your professor who is looking on intently, urging you to continue. “Then you have the body placed on the table. It could be sacrificial. The lamb was supposed to be perfect. Without blemish. Maybe – maybe the killer saw this person as their perfect – their perfect lamb, as someone who would put them in favor with God. The sacrificial lamb is sacramental. Symbolic. Messianic. It’s an act of repentance. So what was the killer repenting from?”

A hum from Dr. Barnes pulls you out of your reverie and breaks your focus from the crime scene photos. You lean around his form to place the pictures back on his desk, your shoulder brushing against his arm. His eyes follow you before he brings a hand up to rub his eyes, almost like he is physically rubbing away the images.

“Do you think the killer knew the victim?” he asks quietly, bringing his hands down to meet your eyes.

“I think they could be family. Family or close friends. They were their savior,” you answer, matching his tone.

Dr. Barnes nods in agreement and in that moment, you can see that he looks like a man who is carrying the world on his shoulders. He slouches forward slightly, his hair strewn around his ears with bags under his eyes. It takes everything in you to not reach out a hand to touch his cheek, to rub a thumb across his lips as you have in your dreams.

Appalled by your own thoughts, you take a step back to give yourself space to halt that train of thought. The movement makes him stand, subconsciously trying to keep the close proximity between you. You don’t break eye contact, making the moment intimate. Intense.

“This case has been keeping me up at night,” he confesses as he brings a hand to run through his hair with a sigh, breaking eye contact. “I wonder where the other bodies are. I can’t seem to get my mind around it.” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you say in nearly a whisper. “You’re good at what you do.”

“Thank you for your help. It’s some really great insight you had.”

“It’s no problem, Dr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he says quickly, rushing it out like he knows he shouldn’t let it pass his lips.

“Bucky,” you repeat, trying the name out on your tongue. 

You then fall into easy conversation, learning more about each other. You discover that Bucky has a PhD in criminology as well, and that he used to be a field agent but decided to leave it to become a teacher at the academy. Part of you wants to ask why, but you figure that it isn’t a conversation he wants to have while still getting to know you. He asks about your life, your family, your education. He is interested in why and how you landed at the academy. You answer him honestly, not inclined to hide away as you normally do when people ask those questions.

Bucky is surprisingly sociable. Based on his reclusiveness when it comes to students, you were not expecting to hold such easy and fun conversation. It makes you want to spend the whole night chatting, joking, exploring. But you know you should not stay. 

When the conversation lulls, you glance at your watch and ask, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Bucky? I think I might head home.”

Before you can even register what is happening, he takes a singular step forward and leans in to meet his lips to yours. In shock, you stand limply, not sure how to respond. You can’t deny that you have thought about this moment for weeks, dreaming about it, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Bucky. But you hadn’t expected it to happen tonight.

And before you have time to respond, he pulls away, opening his eyes to look at you with wide ones of his own.

“I’m sorry, I–”

You don’t acknowledge his apology, instead leaning in to kiss him again, only you are prepared for it this time. He responds immediately as his lips move slowly over yours, testing the waters. Your hands are still by your sides, but his come to settle in your hair and over your arm. His kisses are controlled and soft, not pressing for more than what you are willing to give. A sigh flutters from your nose which ghosts over his cheeks.

Breaking away for a second, you open your eyes and find his already looking at you. The both of you know that you are playing with fire. You are still his student, and he is your professor, but the feeling of his lips on yours overrules any rational thought at the moment.

You give a slight nod and he takes that as a green light to kiss you again. Bucky pulls you closer, and your hands find their way around his torso, snaking up into his hair. It is his turn to sigh at the action which causes satisfaction to roll down your back in waves that has you leaning further into the kiss, opening your mouth ever so slightly. He takes advantage and kisses you deeper. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling, followed by a shaky breath.

He pulls away, a triumphant smile playing at his mouth. 

“I’m not sorry,” he whispers.

“Me neither.”

He kisses you once more, chaste and short, but it carries more meaning than any of the other kisses. It tells you that he has thought about this, too. It wasn’t a spur of the moment, impulsive decision. And it tells you that he plans on doing it again.

…

You settle into a routine with Bucky. After class on Fridays, he stops you on your way out and quietly asks you to come back to look over a case or his lectures. You always nod and come back at 7:30. 

The unspoken truth of the need for secrecy looms over your blooming relationship, but you are almost spurred on by the illicitness of it all. You haven’t done anything more than kiss. You haven’t even interacted beyond the walls of the lecture hall. You both know that it is safest that way. 

The more time you spend together, the more you find yourself falling in love with Bucky. His quirks make you smile. The way he perks up when you walk through the door makes your heart flutter in your chest. You have never felt so valued by anyone before. He trusts your opinions. He respects your honesty. You admire his dedication to what he does. You find his quiet nature calming. 

The list of things you love about Bucky keeps you up at night as you replay scenes of kissing at his desk behind your eyes as you fall asleep. Bucky kisses you like you are ice cream on a sunny day, slow and hungry like he savors every second of your mouth on his. He never presses you for more, only going so far as to set you up on his desk, pulling your hips to his, allowing you to wrap your legs around him as you wind your fingers in his hair. He always sighs when you tug at it which gives you the opportunity to kiss at his neck, your chin always getting scratched by his stubble. 

You love the routine. However, it makes it hard to concentrate during the lectures since all you can think about when you look at his desk is how good his hands felt on your hips and how his lips were pressed to yours when you were propped up on the wood yourself.

The semester continues on following your routine. If anyone suspects anything, they don’t say. You can’t imagine that someone hasn’t picked up on the soft smiles he sends your direction during lectures, and stragglers leaving class late on Fridays must hear his whispers for you to come back. 

Steadily approaching the end of the term, you begin to question how long your routine will continue. You will no longer be Bucky’s student. Could you actually date? Would he want to? Is that what you want?

…

The familiar tug of nerves settles in the pit of your stomach as you walk to class with Bucky — Dr. Barnes if you were still professional, but you figure that his lips have kissed you a few too many times and in a few too many places for you to call him that. It is your last class in his lecture hall, meaning that beyond today, you are free to make a decision as to whether this is serious or not.

In your heart of hearts, you want this to keep going. You love how you feel around Bucky. While you have not said it out loud, you love him. You feel yourself aching to hear him say it, too. 

When you arrive in the room, Bucky is already there, nervously flipping through crime scene photos while running his hands through his hair, creating a rather haphazard mess on his head. He looks more anxious than usual, and it takes everything in you to not to stride to his desk and ask him what’s wrong. 

Instead, you brush past him, trailing a quick hand over his arm, hoping that it has a calming effect over him. His eyes flash to yours as you cast a look over your shoulder, smiling at him. He sends you a tight lipped smile back as his shoulders shrug down from their place beside his ears. 

From your seat, you watch Bucky pace around a bit, obviously concerned about something. You rub your palms over your thighs when you discover them clenched in worry. You wonder if his stress has anything to do with the reason you were nervous coming to class today — the talk you know is coming tonight. You figure it does when his eyes glance over at you every few minutes before beginning the lecture.

You find yourself becoming sentimental about the semester as you look around the room, taking in the feeling for the last time. If you and Bucky do decide to continue your relationship, you can never take one of his classes again. If you don’t continue to see Bucky, you doubt you will want to take one of his classes again. You will miss his funny side comments that come out of left field. You will miss his mismatched suits and disheveled hair. 

The sound of Bucky announcing the end of class breaks you out of your thoughts, and the shuffling of backpacks and feet brings you back to reality. A stream of students thank Bucky as they flow out of the classroom for the final time. You stall a minute, waiting for the throng to exit out the doors before approaching your professor.

“Hey, Bucky,” you say quietly, clutching your laptop to your chest. 

“Hey.”

You watch him lean against his desk, hands pressed to the edge of the wood. 

“How are you doing?” you ask the question that has been waiting to erupt since you entered the lecture hall an hour previous. “You seem nervous.”

A chuckle that comes out more as a sigh escapes him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I, uh, I just didn’t get much sleep last night. How are…how are you?”

“Wistfully contemplating the end of my time in your class,” you reply playfully, hoping that the happy tone will hide the melancholy you really feel about the idea.

This elicits a laugh from Bucky as he looks at you through his lashes — a look that always has your knees threatening to come out from under you. You take steps closer and set your laptop down on his desk, then place your hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms to settle in his hands.

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” you ask, the words barely more than a whisper. You want to catch them in the air, afraid that your proposal to disrupt the routine will be rejected.

But Bucky smiles immediately, thinking for a moment before saying, “Why don’t I cook dinner?”

Your stomach flutters at the thought of watching him in the kitchen. You nod in response.

“7:30?”

“7:30,” you repeat before letting go of his hands to walk out the doors, throwing a smile over your shoulder as you go.

…

The drive to Bucky’s house is quiet but comfortable. About halfway through the trip, your hands link together, resting on your thigh. You talk lazily, asking questions about each others’ days since your morning lecture. There is something so calming about Bucky. You trust him. You love him.

Every once in a while, your eyes flick over to watch him drive, eyes intently focused on the road ahead. He can feel your gaze, so he sends a glance over to you with a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“What?” he asks when you don’t shy away from his eyes.

“Nothing, Buck. I just like being with you.”

“I do, too.”

The sweetness of his simple confession does more to your confidence than you ever thought possible. You feel comfortable around Bucky. You need only be yourself when you are with him, and hearing that same sentiment from him gives you hope that he wants this to continue just as much as you do.

You squeeze his hand, at which he laughs softly, squeezing yours back, brushing his thumb over the knuckles on the back of your hand.

Gravel crunching under tires and the faint sound of dogs barking indicates that you have arrived at your destination. You open the car door and follow Bucky to the front steps of a small house on the edge of town. A large open field is situated behind his house, neighbors nonexistent. Given Bucky’s personality, you are not surprised to discover that he lives alone, away from people, away from the city. 

A flash of nervousness pricks at your mind, as no one would be around if Bucky shows you that isn’t the guy you think he is. But you trust him, and you trust him enough to accept your fate if it does prove to be your downfall.

The door creaks open, and Bucky flicks on the light. Two big dogs come bounding to greet you both, circling his feet until he crouches down to give them the attention they are begging for. To see Bucky with his dogs makes your mind go fuzzy and warm, the tenderness of the scene eradicating your doubts from before.

“Charlie and Duke,” Bucky says, showing you which dog belongs to which name, rubbing each of them affectionately before standing and grabbing your hand.

“They’re adorable.”

“They’re good dogs.”

He leans in for a quick kiss, the domesticity of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He pulls away smiling, then tugs you into the kitchen where he drags a chair out from the table for you to sit on.

“Sit,” Bucky says with mirth in his voice.

You laugh but do as you are told. 

“I was thinking of making steaks. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds great.”

You watch Bucky make his way around the kitchen, obviously having done this a lot. He looks comfortable. He catches you staring, meeting your gaze head on, an easy smile adorning his mouth before asking, “What are you smiling at?”

“You. I like seeing you here,” you say quietly. 

“Not as much as I like seeing you sit at my table. I’ve thought about this a lot,” he admits with his back to you as he throws the steaks in the pan. “I like being around you. I’m more comfortable with you than anyone else. You make me feel — you make me feel normal. Most people don’t do that. They don’t — they don’t want to understand me. My old friends can only think about who I was before I quit the force. They don’t — they don’t want to like who I am now.”

The words spill out of Bucky before he can stop them, opening up to you in a way that he has not before. He has let you in here and there over the months you have been spending together in the lecture hall, but he has stayed rather private even then. Not sure what to say in response, you simply move from your place at the table to stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. You can feel him relax into your touch, and it is a comfort to you both.

“Bucky, I think I am in love with you,” you whisper into his shirt. His body tenses, the sizzling of the meat in the pan filling the silence. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for him to say something. Burying your face further into him, disappointment and embarrassment creeping in your stomach, settling heavily when he doesn’t say anything. When a minute that feels like an eternity passes in silence, you mutter a quiet, “I’m sorry.” 

You let go of Bucky and take a step back. He quickly takes the pan off the heat and whips around to face you, pulling you back to him, whispering your name. 

“I love you,” the words are sure and confident coming from his lips. “I know I do.”

He looks at you intently, not shying away from your eyes before leaning in and kissing you softly. You get lost in his kisses, the pounding of your heart racing at a steady quick beat. Bucky backs you into the counter where he cages you with his hands as you weave one of your hands into his hair, the other running up his spine.

“Stay the night,” he mumbles between kisses.

You pull away and nod, meeting his eyes again, kissing him once without breaking the contact.

…

Settling on his couch after laughing yourselves silly over the dinner table, Bucky is close behind you with bowls of ice cream in hand. He hands you a spoon before sitting down right beside you, pulling your legs to stretch over his lap. He runs a hand absentmindedly over your shins as the two of you eat your ice cream. 

“Why did you come talk to me that night?,” he asks between spoonfuls. “You didn’t really need my help. You knew everything I was telling you.”

You smile like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “I did need your help,” you assert before admitting, “but I also just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

The sound of his laugh makes your heart flutter the same way it does when he looks up at you from behind his desk. 

“Hey, not all my professors are attractive recluses who deserve a starring role in my nightly fantasies.”

“Oh, so you fantasize about me,” he presses, the smirk on his face unlike any expression you have ever seen on him. He looks smug, proud, teasing. It makes heat flash to your core.

You hum but it comes out more as a squeak, your focus turning intently on the ice cream melting in your bowl.

“Do you want to know what I’ve fantasized about you?” Bucky asks lowly, grabbing the bowl from your hands, causing your eyes to lift to his. You watch him set it on the floor. Your heart begins pounding again as he moves to climb over you, settling between your open legs.

“What have you fantasized about, Bucky?” you ask quietly, voice shaky.

You take a breath when he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You open your mouth to deepen it, and he takes advantage, his tongue pressing to your upper lip. The feeling has your hips rolling and sighs falling from your throat.

He pulls away to murmur into your neck, “Every time I would sit on my couch, I thought about laying you down and kissing you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Your eyes are screwed shut as you tug at his hair, his words forming pools of heat between your hips where his own apply pressure. Your words fail you, only a whimper escaping you. His lips move along your neck, working their way back to your mouth, giving due attention to the places on the way that have you squirming beneath him. You hands tug at his shirt to slip your fingers beneath the fabric, skimming up his back, scratching lightly.

His kisses become feverish at the feeling of your nails down his back. One hand hooks your knee to pull your form even closer to his, hips slipping into place. You can feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the slow circling of his hips against yours creating friction that has you moaning.

In one swift motion, his hands are gliding up your sides, taking your shirt with you. You lean up to help him before settling back down against the pillows. He sits on his heels to take his own shirt off which allows you to see him in the faint light casted by the lamp in the corner.

You notice a shining scar that extends from one hip to the other below his navel. Fingertips reach out to touch it, barely making contact before his own hand stills your movements. 

“Is this why you quit the force?” you ask barely above a whisper.

He only nods, his feelings of vulnerability silencing him. You aren’t disgusted by it. It doesn’t change how you see him. You don’t pity him. You are simply curious. And amazed at his strength. He survived whatever left him this scar.

“Can I see it?”

Bucky takes a fluttering breath through his nose then nods again. You climb to the floor, resting on your knees between his legs. You glance up at him and see his head lolling to the side as he looks down at you, eyes hazy and soft. His eyebrows are scrunched, letting you know that he is concentrated, but the dam of secrecy surrounding Bucky is breaking with every passing second.

Tentatively, you stretch a hand forward, your fingertips grazing the scar. His stomach flexes beneath your touch. 

No one has seen his scar since the doctor sewed him back up. He has a fear of pity. He knows that people won’t see him the same when they see the effects of what happened to him — of what was done to him. But he doesn’t see pity in your eyes. He sees awe and amazement. 

Without warning, you press your lips to his stomach, the intimacy of it rendering his mind blank. You hear him swear quietly which urges you to keep going. You kiss all along the scar, his hips, then upwards before you climb into his lap. You find his lips again and kiss slowly, surely, passionately.

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too.”

You share a few more kisses before he stands up, pulling you with him to his room. He fumbles through his dressers to find a shirt and pair of shorts for you to wear. He hands them to you, then rummages through the bathroom cabinets to find a new toothbrush for you to use.

You thank him after he says that he will meet you back at the bed. The calm and comfort of being with Bucky is undeniable. The domesticity of the night has your heart skipping beats. You quickly change and brush your teeth before making your way to his bed. Noticing books stacked on the nightstand on one side, you slip under the covers of the other, sighing contently when you settle in.

Bucky comes in a moment later with only sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He decided to not put a shirt back on, relishing in the freedom that being with you gives him. He doesn’t climb into bed immediately, but rather stands and looks at you for a moment, curled up in his sheets.

“What have you fantasized about here?” you ask teasingly, but your voice comes out thinner than you had intended. 

At your words, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He approaches the bed slowly, kneeling down beside you. 

“I want to know yours,” he says, his voice husky and low. You bite your lip, your eyes widening. A shaky inhale.

Soft kisses line the inside of your knee, trailing a path up your thighs. You let out a hitched moan when he places a kiss to your clothed core, your hands winding themselves in his hair. You tug slightly, inviting him to come up to the bed with you.

When he climbs up, you lean back, your shirt riding up over your stomach. Wordlessly, you pull his hands to your body, his calloused palms caressing the exposed skin. He runs his thumbs under your breasts, causing you to arch into his touch. Bucky can’t believe that you respond to him so keenly. He barely touches you and you are curving beneath him, aching for more. 

His lips find your neck, behind your ear, sucking gently. Your hands pull his hips to yours, rocking steadily into him. You suck in a breath, gathering the courage to grab one of his hands to lead it to where you want to feel him the most.

Bucky follows your lead without resistance, kissing you softly in an expression of consent. He helps you pull your shorts off, then presses two fingers to the wet patch on your panties. The pressure has your hips jutting into his touch, overwhelmed by the sensation when his fingers push the fabric to the side.

Your hips move in circles with his movements, his lips kissing you through it all. Moans slip and tumble from your mouth, leaving you hiccupping in pleasure. The cords in your stomach begin snapping when he speeds up his ministrations, your body contracting through your release.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers to you as he helps you come down from your high. 

Your eyes are crimped shut, but after a moment’s respite and a few encouraging kisses from Bucky, you come back to yourself. You open your eyes to find him watching you intently. You smile lazily then breathe, “Your turn.”

a/n: yayayay !! thanks for reading this !! let me know if you want to be on my taglist :):) and here is my masterlist if you want to check out my other work ! and check out MY SLEEPOVER going on right now !!

[siriusremusblack]

GUYS- ok I honestly don’t even know lol

I feel like. If people hadn’t stolen Snape’s characteristics and given them to other characters like Sirius, Barty, Regulus, and even James- practically worshipping them for those stolen traits- but then completely dehumanizing and Villainizing Snape, removing those traits or making them seem like they’re just so undeniably wrong. That the marauders fandom could’ve been something so much better.

Snape does not deserve all the hate he gets within that fandom. However, I feel like. If you take away the characterization that belongs to Snape that was given to the others and come up with new characterizations for the Marauders- something original, not based off Snape. We could have a cool adventure story they seem to be wanting??

And I mean. If it’s an adventure story anyways. Why make them good people? That’s lame, overused, boring (at least to me). Keep the marauders as the bad guys. Keep their horrible canon personalities. Explore their bad traits! Don’t make them heroes, don’t make them good people. They’re not.

Maybe they get character development and improve during your story through shared experiences. That’s great! That would be amazing! But don’t right off the bat completely change them- making them basically into ocs.

What I think a lot of people may enjoy is some bad dudes hanging out. Going on adventures, breaking rules, stabbing people in the back, just being total jerks.

They sound horrible when I put it like that? GOOD. How fun would it be too see that? I mean. If adventurers are following the rules, the laws- are they really adventurers? They’re staying within reason. They’re not pushing the limits. They’re just. Normal, boring people that like to travel.

A lot of people like pirates. Pirates break the laws, they go on adventures, they can be real jerks, they can be horrible people- but they’re still well liked.

So, I feel like. If people had stuck to the original characterizations of the characters- explored it a little, made them worse by a lot or a little- focused on them breaking the rules and going on adventures similarly to how pirates do- (very important part here: WITHOUT VILLAINIZING SNAPE) we could’ve gotten a lot better fandom there. Now, I’m not saying everyone apart of that fandom is bad, I’ve met a couple people that were chill that were in that fandom. But, think of how much more interesting the stories could be if we focus on the bad traits of the Marauders.

You can still put random characters with them like Barry and Regulus- but tell us why and how through the stories, because realistically speaking, James would absolutely despise people like Regulus and Barty. Not because of their ideals- but because they’re slytherin.

Bad guys can be extremely interesting too! You don’t need to change the Marauders to make interesting enjoyable stories- it’s ok to like characters with horrible or questionable morals (as long as you don’t agree with them, if you agree with them… ehh.. maybe seek help-? I don’t know-!!)

BUT COME ON. Marauders being total jerks, bad people- but going on adventures. That’s interesting- and Snape? He can be his curious self. Suspicious of their actions. Maybe as he gets older he’d be apart of the law enforcement- who’s looking for the Marauders for their crimes, to make sure justice is served.

Y’all I don’t know- but I find this more interesting than whatever the current marauders stories are.

[goodolddumbbanana]

Can I hear more of your thoughts on toxic yaoi sun and dark sun please?

Hehe... Saying Sun x Dark Sun in toxic yaoi mode but actually, it is not that bad and horrible.

Okay... So... You know how often the people who are closest to you will bring out the best and worst sides of you?

In my toxic yaoi timeline, Sun kinda joined Dark Sun because he has hurt Moon badly (again, accidentally, because Moon's Killcode activated again), and even Earth (accidentally) because she has said something hurtful to Sun (not her fault, she just got triggered by Nexus and thinks Sun will end up exactly the same like him)

Anyway, Sun will feel so ashamed of himself and run away, like he couldn't believe he can control himself without hurting people.

He feels like he is the poison, that whatever he touches just splashes everywhere.

Dark Sun just innocently comes to check on Sun, you know, just to see how he is doing.

Then he asks Sun to come with him. I mean, technically, he said He will give Sun two options,

1. Get out of this dimension and Sun would never be found by anyone he doesn't want. (But Dark Sun)

Or 2. Come with him, and he will help Sun to not get hurt like that anymore. Because Sun helps Sun.

Sun chose option 2. (a momentary decision but he can't take it back anymore)

So because it is his own choice and his own fault (nobody blames him, they only want him to go home but Sun didn't know it. ), Sun will be very needy but conflicted to Dark Sun.

(awkwardly doing everything like a lost dog to get Dark Sun attention for most of the moments, but then feel nervous and hostile of Dark Sun for what he does, what he is planning.)

Because how he lost control of his temper leading him to hurt people he cares about or just simply he is tired of people's crap but Sun will have a hard time to distinguish whether he likes Dark Sun or he just needs Dark Sun because he is lonely.

He doesn't know if he is this loyal to Dark Sun (he will follow Dark Sun blindly) because there is no way left for him, or Dark Sun is right and is his friend. (They share a lot of similarities, their interests, their everything...)

There will be a heavy imbalance of power between the two.

And they will have a lot of moments when Sun will get irritated and argue back to Dark Sun (stand up to Dark Sun) but then Sun will immediately shut down and apologize desperately afterwards because Sun only has Dark Sun left...

And Dark Sun... Oh boy...

On the positive side, He secretly likes having a little tail tagging along, hearing his voice get rambling out, and having someone pushing his ego.

He is Sun also, so even though he likes being alone, he can't stand being lonely. Furthermore, Dark Sun won't mind Sun's stuttering or anxious behaviour. He will Sun stronger, more relying on himself.

But on the down path...

He will become very possessive.

He will decide for Sun where he sleeps, where he charges, where he cleans. Because Sun is his belongings, he will want to know everything Sun did or does, and control Sun literally at that.

There will be a lot of Moon's traits slipping up from Dark Sun that even he didn't realise. (Controlling, possessive, manipulated... He even made Sun into his experience, his bodyguard, all due to the reason he is curious and he likes to see how it goes. He will lie even at himself that all the things he did was to help Sun protect himself , though)

He likes Sun, he misses being Sun, but he also hates Sun for being the person he used to be.

So although Dark Sun will treat Sun well for most of the time, but then, there will be these times when he literally likes switching up his attitude. Being indifferent, cold, cruel at Sun without any reason to let Sun beg for his attention.

(He will still pull some stunt to test Sun's loyalty.

He will let Sun see Sun's celestial family on camera, reminds Sun sometimes that they still want Sun, still finds Sun and asks Sun lightly if he wants to see them again or not.

But he will also remind Sun of what happens, of how Sun snapped.

It is not manipulation if it is true, right?

Dark Sun will throw Sun back to his doorstep, his dimension to watch Sun begging him to take Sun back to their home.)

(And sometimes, when he is both in his nice and angry mood, he will let or forcedsSun kill some Moon and let he grieve for these people Sun killed.)

And you might think Sun might get hacked , brainwashed or something... Nope. Nothing... Dark Sun does not even lock the door, or have a plan B in the case if Sun betrayed him.

No. They have some seriously sick twisted trust between them that even if Sun holds a knife at Dark Sun's throat at the night when Dark Sun lowers his guard, Dark Sun will still continue to sleep.

He believes Sun would never betray him, and never can.

And some sad path, he is true, as long as Sun still holds the idea that no one wants him but Dark Sun.

Haha, funny right?

Also, I would like to think whenever Sun has any doubts, Dark Sun will just show him Nexus or every Moon being the asshole at the moment, or how Earth still needs to be repaired....

[linkons-most-wanted]

I've read your analysis and kinda can't get it their relationship anyway 😭 I mean in the beginning Sylus is horrible and I don't understand why can't he see that mc doesn't like him. Since we know that he can be attentive because after he was told that mc is disgusted by him he tried to change his behavior. So it's kinda bad excuse that "he couldn't see it". I mean you're not blind dude, you definitely know what fear look like, you see it on other people's eyes.

About old mc dunno I still have feeling that current mc is just a replacement for his old mc. He loved her in the first place and since she's gone he have only one option - our current mc. Some of my friends said that he loves her soul regardless of who she is but I can't agree with this, current mc and past mc two different people imo

I really love Sylus but I thought that he's a fire that can be tamed and he loves our mc dearly and gently despite his tough exterior but now I doubt it

This actually reminds me of a couple other points that didn't make it into the last one, so I'm really glad you sent this!

And first off I just want to say--if you're still like "I don't like it, it's too mean, not for me" that is 100% totally and completely valid! So much of this comes down to personal preference. So I don't intend this to be me trying to convince you, so much as just reflecting on why I love it and how I think about these different angles.

We're gonna talk kink, monster romance, jungian psychology--buckle up, babes. ((Content note: there's going to be some indirect references to SA.)) I'm also gonna start with what you specifically mentioned so you don't have to read through alll my ramblings if you don't want. 😅

Who is MC?

This is a really interesting point, especially because the writers play with it on a meta level. She reincarnates, so obviously there's a fantastical element to it. It plays with ideas of "nature" vs "nurture"--is her personality inherent? Is it a product of her environment? The point of the narrative isn't to have a specific answer--it's to pose the question.

It's also important to note that odds are pretty high that each LI has their own writing team and head writer. (Based on my understanding of how these things are generally done.) So while they're going to share notes on MC's basic characteristics, each writer/writing team is going to pull MC's personality in one direction moreso than the other. Each "version" of MC needs to have the traits that would cause her to fall for the given LI.

The writers are specifically telling us they're writing a "confluence of branching timelines" so we can consider all these different versions of MC--past and future--sort of superimposed on each other. Each reader can (and this is intended) decide for themselves whether those seem like all different parts of the same whole, or different people. Is the MC that plays coy with Zayne where neither wants to admit what they're doing in Absolute Zeal the same MC that says "hunters aren't passive" to Sylus in Night of Secrecy?

I don't think so. Or, more specifically, I see them as "what ifs" of the same person. "What if" she was drawn to Zayne? Who would that make her? "What if" she was down hard for Sylus? What personality traits would incline her to that? Etc.

And then on top of that, the reader is always projecting onto MC. What would I say? What would I want? What version of MC is closest to that? (Or furthest from that?) What LI does that then draw me towards?

So, are Sorceress MC and Main Timeline MC the same person? Well, if someone's been in a relationship a long time and then one person loses their memories and they don't remember the other person (rare, but it can really happen!), is that person the same person they were before?

I think the answer is "yes and no". None of us have a magic reset button where we can say "what if I was born into a different life". So there's really no "right answer". It's sort of a ship of Theseus type thought experiment.

I can confidently say that the writers are giving the version of main-timeline MC that gets with Sylus all of the same key traits that Sylus fell in love with the first time. If you asked Sylus whether he sees main-timeline MC as a consolation prize he'd scoff at you and say, "Astonishing misunderstanding". 😂 He himself says he sees her as the same person--she was "quietly transplanted to another garden", not a new flower that looks similar.

Also, getting with Main Timeline MC isn't his only option--as we see in Razor's Dance, he's willing to walk away. That's him saying, "I don't have any claim over you just because of your history. Either the current version of you wants this, or you don't." Sylus would rather go back to his solitary life than keep "pestering" MC, if that's how she sees it.

Sylus knows she's afraid he just doesn't think that's a problem (yet)

You're spot on that Sylus should (and does) know that MC is afraid when she meets him. He just doesn't see that as a problem. After all, in Beyond Cloudfall, she's fleeing from Wanderers, terrified for her life, and greedy and defiant enough to free a monster for a chance to live. (I think it's selling Sorceress MC short to ignore that she knows she's committing sacrilege.) He wants to push her to see what she'll do this time. Bargain with the devil? Try to flee? Take things into her own hands?

Not to mention, Sylus has never met someone who wasn't afraid of him at first. Ever. Even Luke and Kieran show a little fear. It's important to remember that this is because Sylus isn't really human, but we'll get into that in a sec.

In some ways, Sylus is rough not because he doesn't care about MC, but because he believes she's strong. In LAR he says confidently, demandingly, "You can handle it". And she can. The version of main-timeline MC that falls in love with Sylus gives voice to many of the traits not often allowed for female characters--assertiveness, greediness, toughness, ruthlessness, stubbornness, autonomy, vindictiveness, etc. You could look at Sylus's MC and say, "but you were afraid!" And she's say, "So what? I can handle myself. If I can take down Wanderers, I can handle this."

She is not afraid to put Sylus in his place, to tell him what she doesn't and doesn't like about his behavior. That's not going to be relatable for every reader, and that's okay! It resonates deeply with me, and I cherish that.

Sylus is a monster (romance lead)

Full disclosure, I write monster romance professionally. So I was always going to be biased to see him through a monster romance lens--which imo is pretty clearly intended by the writers as established in Beyond Cloudfall.

The "rules" of what behavior is/isn't allowed in monster romance are quite different than human or contemporary romance. A lot of what justifies Sylus's behavior are fantasy elements--him being a dragon, time travel, reincarnation, the N109 Zone being as violent and dangerous as it is, his Evol being extremely powerful, etc.

If an IRL person tries to force you to hold their hand, that's straightforwardly SA. They can't be like "oh I'm a dragon" because that doesn't exist. In the real world, indeed, none of these "excuses" would matter and the behavior would be straightforwardly inappropriate and likely unforgivable.

BUT. Sylus isn't a contemporary romance lead. He's a monster romance lead. He's not gruff and demanding and physical because of some warped idea of masculinity, he's those things because he's a dragon. He's not like us.

Monsters often serve as an allegory for queerness (being seen as 'other' and dangerous by society) and neurodivergence (misunderstanding and struggling with the rules of society). Thus, the social inappropriateness of the behavior becomes part of the point. The story is about building a relationship despite struggles getting on the same page culturally and emotionally.

If I went too far, could you still love me? If I'm initially totally misunderstood, would someone take the time to get to know me? Will my mistakes ruin everything, or is there forgiveness if I commit to change? Can you see yourself in me, your own monstrous traits you suppress to get along and fit in? If we're both beasts, can we bite and scratch and lick and cuddle? These questions beat at the heart of monster romance.

But the violent, monstrous behavior is about a little bit more than that, which is why we have to talk about how...

Sylus is a kink-oriented character

This could also be a whole essay so I'm going to mostly just point at No Defense Zone, Innocent Birdcage, and Abyssal Mark. If you're not familiar enough with kink to see the clear theming there, you can take my word for it until I inevitably write that essay. 😅

Power exchange is a huge part of kink, and it's a recurring theme with Sylus's character. Everything about "taming" him, MC asking for control in Night of Secrecy and him saying "not yet" (but not "no"), etc.

And a beloved, beloved kink is resistance play. Enjoying struggling or having someone struggle. The B in BDSM is for Bondage. There's always a playful element in Sylus's bondage which imo makes it clear that it's about kink and power exchange, not power theft. This is why that moment in Midnight Stealth when he says "I do love to watch my pretty struggle in vain" is one of my favorites because fuck, that's my kink.

It being a bit dark, deviant, inappropriate is kind of the point. We kinky mfers get off on that shit. IRL, scenes and limits need to be negotiated ahead of time. Obviously, Sylus's arc lacks that explicit negotiation at first, but a lot of IRL experiences do too. When you get off on struggling and don't have a clear understanding of kink, your unexplored desires can be exploited by others to put you in some pretty shitty situations. That's why having an outlet (like dark romance, or monster romance) is so important.

One thing I love about Sylus x MC is that as the story unfolds, we see they're both switches. Sylus loves to dominate and be on top (as we see in LAR, Midnight Stealth, Night of Secrecy) but he also wants MC to dominate him (No Defense Zone, Valleydream Bloom). For Pete's sake, in Beyond Cloudfall, seeing her sitting on a throne over him after they took over the Sanctuary made him so viscerally turned on that his desire consumed him and turned him into a dragon. Their dynamic has always been switchy.

When they talk about being the only two people left in the world that live true to their hearts, that are honest about their desires, that is 100% meant to include the dark, fucked-up desires that find safe and healthy expression in kink. They want to devour each other. She wants to gouge out his eye and win his love. He wants to consume her soul and roll with her in a field of flowers.

If you watch the start of Long Awaited Revelry with him prying her hand open and are like "who could possibly think that's hot"--It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me. 😂

There can be this sort of visceral compulsion of, "ugh I love you so much I just wanna bite you/make you bleed/bruise you/etc." Consider it a cousin to cute aggression.

Now, kink does not need to be justified. It is what it is, and as long as you're ensuring informed consent of all parties involved and understanding the risks, do whatever makes your freaky heart happy.

BUT. I do also love to talk about kink and I think it's relevant, so...

Fear and desire are deeply entwined

Now we're getting into Jungian psychology (as in Carl Jung). In that realm of psychology, you'll see the idea that fear and desire are two sides of the same coin. For what it's worth, there's some neuroscience supporting this idea.

If there's something you particularly desire (such as winning a certain award) you might also simultaneously fear it (well I might as well not submit because I won't get it). Likewise, if there's something you particularly fear (being physically dominated by a man/person you don't know) you may also have a desire to experience it on some level (such as by being physically dominated by a man/person you know and trust). There's something profoundly freeing about being able to create a scene where you experience the "worst possible thing" and then in the end you are safe and cared for (after-care is a huge part of this).

This is never EVER EVER an excuse to do something non-consensual IRL. Kink MUST be negotiated. It is something to think about in the safe(r) context of informed consent.

A fiction story establishes safety in a really profound way. MC doesn't know Sylus really has a heart of gold when they meet--but we the readers know that he will, because that's a sort of contract we enter into with the writers of a romance. The informed consent is between the writer and the reader in these fictional scenarios. The writer says, "I am going to show you something scary, someone powerful and dominant and ruthless, and they are going to turn out to be someone you want to cuddle" and we the readers say "fuck yes".

Likewise, when my partner and I role-play, our agreement is "one of us is going to act scary, dominating, powerful, greedy, demanding. Then we're gonna cuddle and go back to gaming on the couch."

Fiction allows for these heightened scenarios were we can really get off on the things we're afraid of in this really safe and really hot way.

A final note on personal preference

I'm a big fan of head cannon and "create your own experience" when it comes to navigating what you do/don't like about characters in something like Love and Deepspace. If the initial meanness and physical dominance just isn't for you, head cannon it! Enjoy the sweetness of the new Sylus content and imagine a different origin for them meeting again. Pick and choose what details to focus on so that you can enjoy that "flame that can be tamed" vibe you're looking for. Nobody else gets to decide what version of Sylus lives in your brain, just like nobody else gets to decide what version of MC you resonate with the most.

For example, you'll see that I can easily forgive Sylus's initial bullying because I don't find it to be mean-spirited and I get off a bit on the inappropriateness. Part of why this works for me is Sylus is fundamentally honest. "I'm not just greedy--I'm greedy and proud of it." He never breaks a promise. He never outright lies.

Now, contrast this to Xavier and Caleb, who casually lie all the time. It drives me crazy! Now, don't get me wrong--I love both characters, I enjoy writing them, and I think they're brilliantly written. But I will never not be like "ugh, Xavier, get your shit together!!!" or "Caleb please go to therapy." Caleb and Sylus are both written to be darker characters (as will the 6th LI, I suspect), so they're going to tend to provoke strong reactions.

I love reading and writing Caleb content because it is a bit triggering for me--there's that sense of danger and a similarity to past trauma, but that can be explored in the safety of fiction (hello, kink).

As for Sylus, I just straight up love his physicality and brutal, fundamental honesty. With a character like Sylus, you always know where you stand, and that's deeply healing to me. I am the type of person that would rather know, would rather struggle through it, would rather have it all out in the open. Characters like Caleb and Xavier will never quite give you that. (They give other things!) Someone like Zayne is going to give you that in glimpses, but with a steadier baseline, and that's why he's my second favorite. Rafayel is also a pretty honest character but all his bratting triggers my parentification trauma, so there's that 😂

These characters are really so faceted and multi-layered that I really endorse just leaning into the facets you personally enjoy the most! A large part of why I dig so deep into the canon and enjoy analyzing how the characters are presented is that as a writer it's a treat to have such complex characters to dig into, but that's not any more or less valid than coming up with your own spin on things. (The LaDS writers even say as much in the Fractal Library World Underneath story!)

[pinkievie]

Six controversial F.R.I.E.N.D.S opinions that I formed during a re-watch

Today marks 30 years since the Pilot episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S first aired. Happy Anniversary to one of the best show's of all time!

A few years ago, when I learned that my partner hadn't seen a single episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, I forced him into watching the whole series, every single night, for months.

Obviously, he was critical at first. However, I soon witnessed what the true magic of this sitcom was - the characters. Once the viewer understands and connects with each of the six main protagonists (which may take a season or two), suddenly the comedy and the warmth becomes so much more brilliant.

I could see a brand new fan in the making as we watched the show together, and it became obvious to me just how important the long-term watching was. The show is riddled with running inside jokes based on the character's distinct personalities and their history in past episodes.

This is why you constantly hear of people saying that they watched one or two episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S and "didn't find it that funny", or the that the classic laugh track is annoying, or maybe that the characters were insufferable.

A casual viewer probably doesn't understand what is so funny about Joey sabotaging his own audition, Phoebe revealing something crazy about her past, Ross explaining how many divorces he's had, Monica tensing up at any sign of disorganisation, Rachel getting emotional over trivial things, or Chandler always having to have a sarcastic comment for any situation. But, for a fan who really knows these people, these running personality traits and archetypes are a result of the character's shared experiences and adorable friendship, getting funnier the more you watch the same jokes being developed.

However, it has now been three decades since the very first episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S first aired on 22nd September 1994, and society and popular culture has changed a lot since then. I, myself, had a bunch of realisations after re-watching the show with fresh eyes, which I didn't expect at all. I now feel that the typical fan-favourite aspects of the show in the nineties and noughties are no longer as beloved as they once were.

Of course, there are new viewers of the Z generation who would argue the show is problematic, and, in some ways, they're not wrong. Ross's ex-wife and partner are constantly labelled as lesbians even when there is no need for it to be mentioned, and the earlier seasons imply that their relationship is unusual. Monica is fat-shamed, and Chandler's Dad is vaguely genderfluid and made fun of for it. However, comparing it to media published much later, I would say F.R.I.E.N.D.S holds up as a mostly non-harmful show. (But I will get to the Ross and Rachel issue later!)

I will only ever see F.R.I.E.N.D.S as comforting and non-malicious. Plus, let us not forget the waves that the show did make during the nineties. In season two, F.R.I.E.N.D.S became the first show to air a lesbian wedding on U.S television. It also portrayed single motherhood, blended family dynamics and same sex parents, homelessness, unemployment, vegetarianism, divorce, fertility treatment, surrogacy, adoption, casual sex. Most of these themes are still stigmatised and controversial today so, for 30 years ago, this was progressive.

However, I had my eyes opened when I watched the show again, this time not as a seven year old but as a fully-fledged adult in their twenties, with all the experience of this modern, improving world.

Here are the 6 conclusions I made that may make you re-think the long-standing view of the stories and characters:

Phoebe becomes a horrible friend

Don't get me wrong, in the early seasons Phoebe is very much the stereotypical warm and loving "hippy" friend, and she is seen cleansing people's auras, giving to the poor and supporting her loved ones. Her troubled backstory also meant she was able to shed perspective on the other character's trivial problems, particularly when it came to family.

However, mid-way through the show (around the time she gives birth to surrogate triplets for her brother) her character becomes more unpredictable and unfair. She continues to do good things, of course, but specifically in terms of friendship goals, I think later season Phoebe lacks a lot. She lies constantly, uses her childhood trauma to get what she wants, is flaky, ghosts people and cuts them out, gets angry when she's not getting attention, and is occasionally insulting and violent. She's definitely a strong and confident bad ass who doesn't take any crap, but in terms of being a good friend, Phoebe is at the bottom of the list of six. (Read on to see who's at the top of my list!)

Rachel is the "main character"

People may disagree with this but, when I was growing up and being raised by this show, despite Rachel essentially being the character who initiates the series by moving to New York in the Pilot episode, I saw all the protagonists as equally important. There was no main character. They were all the star, and they still are. As was reflected in the backstage bond between the actors all agreeing to be paid the same money throughout the show's run, every character is loved and an integral part of F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

However, there's a couple of things about Rachel's character and story that make her unique. Firstly, the way she is presented in the Pilot episode is that of an outsider coming into the friendship group, just like us as the viewer. So, for that important first season, Rachel becomes the viewer's eyes and ears, which is really special. As we are finding out about these characters, what they like, don't like, what they do for a living, their fears, so is Rachel. She is the closest to the audience in that respect. Rachel also goes through arguably the biggest transformation and character development on the show, going from a rich daddy's girl with no job and no responsibilities, to a mother with a fierce fashion career.

Another huge thing I noticed on a re-watch is that Rachel bonds strongly with each of the other five protagonists in ways I think is individual to her. She develops romantic crushes on all three of the boys (albeit, the Chandler one was only for one short flashback episode), and falls in love with two of them. She is also the only protagonist who has kissed everyone in the group, and she has also been room mates with everyone in the group. Whether you agree with Ross and Rachel or not, you could also see the 10 season show as a long love story or a "how I met your father" chronicle. During the last few episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S Rachel decides to say teary goodbyes to all the other friends individually, further showing up as the bridge between viewer and show, and coming full circle from Season 1.

Joey was the best friend, and was actually the most progressive

My listing of worst to best friend on the show would be Phoebe, Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey. Although, the real discovery is just how different Joey feels re-watching the show in the 2020's, compared to the nineties.

When the show first aired, it would be right to assume that Joey was presented as a "ladies man", regularly dating different women, sleeping with them and not calling them back. However, in the current age of dating apps and more normalised casual sex, this behaviour no longer feels awful. Yeah, so Joey might be care-free and forgetful, however when it comes to his long-term friends and people he loves, he is one of the most attentive, caring and forgiving characters. Joey is confident to be romantic, spoil and compliment a woman when he dates, and, unlike some of the other characters, he never cheats when he does get into a committed relationship.

Another huge realisation is just how progressive Joey was, even when he was made fun of for it by the other friends in the group. Being an actor, Joey was confident to wear or do unusual or "ladylike" things, including wearing male lipstick, ladies' underwear, and a male purse, and he doesn't flinch at drinking breast milk either in an early episode. The real loving side of Joey is emphasised during his crush and relationship with Rachel, where he behaves with so much sensitivity, patience and respect, even though it's his first proper love and heartbreak (more on that storyline later!).

Monica and Chandler were underrated and should have been the main romance

I actually think this opinion isn't controversial, and when I say "underrated" what I mean is that the the writers and show runners were blind-sided and unprepared for the huge positive reception this romance had from the fans of the show.

The famous episode where Monica and Chandler first sleep together in London was originally meant to be the start of a small, short fling romance, however it really was by the power of the F.R.I.E.N.D.S audience, who cheered so loudly in the studio during filming of that episode, that the writers were forced to develop the couple into the real deal - marriage, kids and happily every after.

Obviously every romance on the show had ups and downs however Monica and Chandler felt like such a stable, comfort couple, who found love amongst their own insecurities and flaws, and they become better people together. In the nineties and noughties, people will remember that Ross and Rachel were the more famous couple, however their constant break ups, low blows at each other and mind games, makes the re-watches hard to sit through. Monica and Chandler, on the other hand, radiate love and acceptance and a true healthy relationship. A relationship I look for.

Ross was very controlling

Whilst his storylines make for great comedy, it's obvious to most people during re-watches that Ross is borderline emotionally abusive. The Ross and Rachel love story which was once the centre piece of the show has been abandoned by most modern viewers, because of how Ross continues to sabotage their relationship and then place blame on Rachel, being overly jealous of her career, and of other male prospects. He is particularly unnecessarily angry when Joey reveals his crush on Rachel, as if he's got some kind of ownership on her despite not dating her for 8 years out of the 10 season show. And yet, he can move on and get married too quickly to someone else whenever he wants.

There was a time when Ross was the hopeless romantic of the show, seemingly having constant bad luck with the ladies and being awful at flirting. However, in hindsight, he is problematic. He moves on too fast and ruins his own wedding by saying the wrong name at the alter, gets involved with one of his student's, and deceives Rachel into thinking they are divorced when they are still married. Similar to Phoebe, Ross lies and has regular tantrums, to the point where other characters have to tip-toe around him to save his feelings.

Maybe once upon a time, Ross's intense undying love for Rachel would have been seen as sweet and adorable, but when I re-watched Rachel getting her dream job for the first time and Ross suddenly getting jealous and feeling inferior, wanting Rachel literally all to himself and to not have her own life, leading to the breakdown of their relationship (where it should have stayed, if I'm honest), it was clear Ross is a horrible boyfriend.

Joey and Rachel should have ended up together

I'm going to say it - Joey was too good for Rachel.

Following all my other realisations, I think this relationship should have been endgame, and something that I think if the show was made today, would have come true. Friends to lovers and unpredictable relationships are so popular on TV today, however in the noughties we were hit with the typical "red herring", when Joey and Rachel kiss in the Season 9 finale setting up the final season of the show in a new direction.

In a big whiplash moment, however, the romance was halted in just one, arguably silly episode, where Joey and Rachel find that they can not bring themselves to have sex because they are too close as friends. This was potentially all the fault of the main cast who were strongly against the Joey and Rachel romance, and felt it was wrong. Obviously, the actors do have some ownership over the authenticity and integrity of their characters, (and, for the most part, the actors did protest unfaithful storylines on many occasions), however I don't think anyone expected that future viewers would have rooted so heavily for Joey and Rachel.

Compared to Ross's controlling and toxic attitude, Joey has a heart of gold, and always gives Rachel the space and time she needs. He never throws tantrums, despite being completely heart-broken for most of Season 8, and always does the right thing by his feelings whilst respecting Rachel. Just the idea of these two being in a relationship is all we have, as the love story didn't have time to leave the ground. However, you have to admit, if a modern viewer could pick between Ross and Joey, I think it would be an obvious choice.

What are your (controversial or otherwise) F.R.I.E.N.D.S re-watch opinions??

[mors-neptune]

707 / Luciel / Saeyoung Choi Headcanons I Have

‼️⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️‼️

• Has ADHD but if anyone brings it up he brushes it off because he thinks it makes him lesser. He’s not ableist he just needs to be educated :(

• I know in the official art he’s pretty pale but I hc him as having tanner skin and some freckles

• Has an undiagnosed personality disorder probably

• Too paranoid to go to church in person so he made a personal shrine in his home that he makes sure to spend time at

• Hates seeing his father on TV because it reminds him how similar they look. He’ll go into a weeks long depression every time where he’ll avoid mirrors because all he sees is his mother and father

• Loves cross dressing but is too scared to think deeply and self reflect about the gender euphoria it gives him because Korea isn’t very accepting

• Hated college because he felt like it was too structured and he doesn’t like being told what to do

• His favorite color is red (obviously)

• Doesn’t want or have any tattoos

• Most of the decor in his house was handmade impulsively and placed somewhere random

• Ultimately wants to move out of the bunker and into a more realistic house with no sci-fi-like doorbells or weapons but his paranoia stops him

• Sometimes stays up till the morning watching security cams in and around the bunker out of fear someone will try and hurt Saeran or MC

• Loves the dopamine hit that buying new cars gives him. It’s almost addicting impulse buying expensive things

• Desperately needs someone to match his neurodivergentness and thankfully his twin brother does perfectly

• His glasses are constantly dirty he never cleans those mfs

• Likes to paint his nails black but it’s always cracked and messed up

• Him and Saeran made up a secret language that they refuse to teach anyone else, even MC

• Welded flowers and spray painted them for him and MC’s anniversary (Saeran told him which flowers to make bc he knows their meanings)

• MC’s engagement ring is a Ruby (to represent Saeyoung) and whatever stone is MC’s favorite swirling together to look like a binary star system

• We know in his route that he has muscles because of his work, but after he runs from the agency, MC noticed some of his bulkiness going away

• But he still keeps a lot of his muscle, he just has some more squishiness around his torso

• Regrets his bunker not having windows because he knows Saeran loves looking at the sky

• Builds a garden in his backyard for Saeran :)

• Too paranoid to get a therapist so one of his more toxic traits is using MC as a therapist

• Goes through periods of not sharing anything emotionally with MC & sharing way too much and borderline dumping all his shit on them

• Has bad abandonment issues

• Loves experimenting with makeup and showing Saeran and MC

• Has both an inferiority and superiority complex

• Owns an obsessive amount of stuffed animals and yes, they all have names

• Idk if this is canon or not but he has curly hair

• I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned this already but I hc him as bisexual (he literally mentioned at some point that V’s voice was his type)

• And since it’s basically canon he at least finds V attractive and V is more of a parental/guardian figure to him, I can conclude Saeyoung 100% has daddy issues (duh)

• Has had feelings for Vanderwood at some point

• Horrible at personal hygiene

• Doesn’t drink or do drugs (canon)

• He’s a compulsive liar :/

• Wants a cat but is so bad at taking care of himself he doesn’t trust himself taking care of an animal

• Has staff constellation, and planet stickers & posters all over his room (he’s a nerd)

• Learns sign language so when he’s mad at MC or Saeran he only communicates through sign to piss them off

• Wayyyyyyy too comfy invading people’s personal and cyber privacy because of his line of work

• Lactose intolerant because I think it’s funny

• Light sleeper because of the house he grew up in and his work at the agency

• Kind of apathetic to traumatic things other people go through if it wasn’t as “bad” as his. Not in a “I think I’m better than you” kind of way, but in a way where some issues just don’t compare to an abusive, alcoholic mother, a politician father who wants to kill him, being a secret agent made to do who knows what, and more.

• Catches up on childhood by indulging in childish hobbies and interests. He’s making up for the lost time :(

• His tummy always hurts from his horrible diet

• His cologne smells like apple spice (it’s actually a perfume for women but who cares)

• But tbh on the daily he smells like a mix of his basic masculine body wash, honey buddah chips, and grease (sorry)

• Very protective. Takes on a caretaker role for those closest to him

• Sometimes very controlling. Gets anxious when he can’t control everything around him.

• Acts very parental towards Saeran. He always did because he had to in their childhood, but Saeyoing still does it. It makes him feel good being able to properly provide for Saeran.

• He mentioned in his route that he never really wanted or thought about having a family other than Saeran, and I feel like he would still think the same after meeting MC. Just now he thinks of his family as just him, Saeran, and MC. I don’t think he’d want kids

• Literally never cleans his sheets…

• Can only convince himself to clean anything in his house because he doesn’t want Saeran to have to live in filth again

My first post. I just wanted to share these :)

[fruchtfleisch-art]

😶 does tomoko keep any secrets from josuke?

🚶‍♂️ any kiramom habits? did any of them end up influencing kira?

👪 hayato clearly gets his looks from shinobu and his personality/interests from kosaku, but are there any personality quirks/interests he got from shinobu?

didn’t mean to make this so mom-son-themed, but i love how you write family dynamics!

Oh these are fantastic, I love writing family dynamics as well!! These were so fun to think about... I love strained mother-son relationships, they're so [clenches fist] [stares out window] [the fog rolls in, obscuring all-

[ask meme link]

😶 does tomoko keep any secrets from josuke?

My initial thought in response to this was "HELL yes", Tomoko is such a hard-ass, haha. I feel like in the same way Josuke keeps most of his 1999 summer antics away from his mom, she probably doesn't share any of her own struggles, although they're probably fairly mundane in comparison (mostly... she did get folded up by a stand that one time).

I could see her being very good at compartmentalizing and bad at letting Josuke see her emotionally vulnerable/weak, to a point... like I think they're a stable family unit in that Josuke feels loved by his mom, and Tomoko knows Josuke is a good kid even though he gets into a lot of trouble, but would they talk about the death of her father/his grandpa after enough time has passed? Would Tomoko ever talk about any difficulties she experienced raising a kid and finishing her studies? Unsure!

I think I should go revisit some of early DiU, but it was interesting to me that Tomoko went off to see relatives after the funeral while Josuke stayed at home, and that seemed preferable to him, not just practical for the sake of hunting down Angelo. They might not discuss too many "hard" topics when they're around each other, for various reasons.

🚶‍♂️ any kiramom habits? did any of them end up influencing kira?

[trips, falls, a million OCD headcanons spill out of my pockets] oh nooooooo

Painting in the broadest brushstrokes, because I love leaving things vague, I wrote Kiramom with the idea that her coddling/smothering is partly due to anxiety and irrational thought spirals about all the danger her darling little boy could get into, partly ???, and partly the same kind of weird hygiene/health neuroses adult Kira has in DiU canon. I like to think she doesn't really have pet allergies, but it's something she wouldn't be able to stop obsessing about if there's an animal around, so it's just easier to not have them, that kind of insular thinking. Adult Kira is so good at cleaning, though! Wow! Maybe it was all worth it...

I also gave them both an anxious hand-wringing habit in the new chapter of BSBiB, but unlike chewing his nails I think Kira would have gone to a lot of trouble to train himself out of that one :p He's still in the Copy My Mommy phase of his life at age six, but I have a feeling it's going to end pretty soon...

👪 hayato clearly gets his looks from shinobu and his personality/interests from kosaku, but are there any personality quirks/interests he got from shinobu?

I also super love this question! I feel like they're both pretty stubborn characters, and fairly observant, but the way those traits are expressed are different because of their underlying personalities and life experiences (Shinobu is spiteful/petty and can rationalize almost anything to herself despite picking up on small changes in "Kosaku" because she's miserable+a closet romantic, Hayato gets into danger because his sense of justice is so strong, studies the people around him like bugs in a jar with no consideration for their privacy... is also a romantic?? should we count wanting to know if his parents are in love?). I think I wrote a throwaway line allll the way back in Indoor Kitty where Kira's like "Shinobu is so stubborn, just like her horrible son...", but I bet Shinobu would be really surprised to hear that :p

I don't think their interests overlap too much (Hayato is canonically into mecha and has a big-ass toy plane in his first manga appearance, he is So 11), which would be another reason Shinobu doesn't really "get" him, but maybe in the future they could find a shared hobby or interest? Shinobu just feels like the kind of mom who would only click with her kid after they reach adulthood, because then it's just like having a younger friend... that you raised... maybe that's not great either...

Thank you for the asks!

[separocean-anxiety]

[ start image description: a series of Bluesky posts which read as follows:

Owen Dennis: thank you, but that's also very funny to me because I so strongly believe in death of the author haha

I believe in it in Roland Barthes' sense, where interpretation can become moot because people will just use the tidy explanation of "author said ___, so that's the answer" which I believe destroys-

-our individual reaction and interpretation of a piece, and limits it. Art is inherently individual because the meaning we get from it is personal. So in that sense, while I find authorial intent can be an interesting piece of information, I don't think it's the be all end all.

That said...

It's pretty clear that people who say "Separate the art from the artist" aren't doing it based on reading french essayists from the 60's, and are instead saying it because they don't wanna feel bad about liking art made by someone horrible, lest it imply that they're horrible themselves.

and ya know... that's more a selfish bullshit thing than a thoughtful examination of artistic interpretations. /end image description ]

Respectfully, I think there’s a more nuanced way to critique this phenomenon without calling it “Death of the Author.”

One cannot read a text fully without accounting for the author’s own identity, lived experience, and biases. These things come through in their evaluations of their own works as well. Like the text itself, the word of the author shouldn’t be taken at face value—it must be analyzed with all these intersecting factors in mind. I’m less-so concerned about authorial intent and more-so concerned with authorial perspective, if that makes any sense.

Intentions are informed by perspective, and holding one’s perceived intentions up to the text they created to see how they align is an important part of media literacy. I’m sure this is something Dennis already knows, but his use of this phrase in this hyper-specific way has just confused me in the past, especially when it comes to his own work.

There are things he has said about Galactaron that greatly inform its interpretation—and that’s not a bad thing! Especially when the text itself is so abstract. Having that context is sometimes crucial to reading a text—it doesn’t negate a person’s own experience. If anything, it complements it.

I don’t hold back on my criticisms of WALL-E, but Stanton’s commentary on it helps me see where he was coming from, and the factors which shaped his creative choices. Some of these choices are very personal, and even serendipitous, while others expose the clear biases he holds, which made it into the movie. His attempts to downplay those choices in interviews mirrors the film’s own efforts to justify its reality.

The text and the author are ostensibly saying the same thing; that doesn’t mean one can’t derive their own meaning from a text, and it doesn’t mean a text’s value derives from the author’s perspective alone, because the author may not realize the underlying implications of the text they’ve made which people beyond themselves have found within it.

An author outright saying that a character to whom I relate is not Autistic will not stop me from reading them that way, but their expression of intent (or lack thereof) will tell me something meaningful about how THEY see the character THEY created. If someone happens to see themself in a character whom the text vilifies for the very traits they share, are they not owed an explanation as to why the author chose to frame those traits as objectionable?

My “individual reaction and interpretation of a piece” is neither destroyed nor limited by taking the author’s perspective into consideration. It isn’t complete without it.

Zeinab Diomande paints vibrant self-portraits and captions each of them with short essays on Instagram. Those essays, to me, are inseparable from the art itself.

Joel Guerra's ENA is rife with symbols from Peruvian culture and countless artistic influences; knowing their origins illuminates my understanding of the series as a whole.

Ross Bagdasarian Jr. resurrected Alvin and the Chipmunks to memorialize his father. The story of his mission lives concurrent to the feverish immortality of those characters.

As @/crystalavohkii.bsky.social said, all art is communication—mayhaps in its most earnest form. It’s a coalescence of values, lived experience, and inspirations. It’s the act of laying oneself bare, in ways the artist themself may not even realize at the time. To disregard the intent—the perspective—of the artist is to deny a work of art its history, and therefore, its identity.

One cannot simply hide the stones with flowers. Let an understanding of the art, enhanced by the knowledge of its origins, shape how you build upon its foundation.

[chronicoverthinker]

A character analysis of Yoshiki cause he’s very dear to me 😔

I genuinely hope that as the story progresses we’ll get to learn more about Yoshiki’s father and the dynamics in the Tsujinaka household. Even tho we still don’t know the details we can see how much his father’s abusive tendencies ended up affecting Yoshiki , and mokmoklen is truly able to bring it out in a subtle but magnificent way in the things Yoshiki says , both about himself or others , and also in his relationship with “Hikaru”.

So, I’m not a psychology major myself but from personal experience I believe that Yoshiki presents symptoms of the so called fawn response. Fawning is also known as the “please-appease” syndrome, being mainly associated with people pleasing and codependency (see where I’m already going with this?). Usually these people seek safety by pleasing others as a way of avoiding conflict.

A possible reason as to why people might develop this syndrome is because they grew up in an abusive environment when they were little , maybe seeing one of their caretakers have outbursts of anger (we know that Yoshiki’s parents used to argue to such a degree that neighborhoods could hear them + if I remember correctly it is stated in the light novel that his father always used to slam his hands on the table and such).

As a consequence of this , he learnt that being good and pleasing his father would be the only way to guarantee his own survival. We see this happen in one of the flashbacks where his father grabs him (rather forcefully may I add) by the arm and Yoshiki just let it happen , knowing it’s best not to say anything. Even tho we can see how uncomfortable he looks with his father around.

People suffering from fawn response also have a hard time saying no , feeling guilty about expressing their own needs and feelings. Since growing up in an environment where you have to constantly walk around eggshells with others and where communication has never really been a thing , the things left unsaid make these people start believing that THEY might be the problem.

We see this happen in ch. 7. Now , I know that people will probably have various interpretations of THAT specific sequence of scenes , but personally I interpreted it as a metaphor for attempted r*pe or violation of some sort , with “Hikaru” trying to claim Yoshiki in the only way he knows , because he aches for him so damn much but he realizes that stealing Hikaru’s identity doesn’t make Yoshiki his in any way. He’s different from Hikaru and he can’t and shouldn’t expect to occupy the same spot as Hikaru previously did.

And even tho what “Hikaru” did is horrible , Yoshiki is still the one feeling bad about RIGHTFULLY trying to set some kind of boundary with “Hikaru”. He feels like HE is the one that should be apologizing for being harsh with him.

This brings me onto the next point which is being self-sacrificing , with Yoshiki quite literally feeling guilty for all the deaths happening most probably because of “Hikaru” and even deciding to share the burden of his possible next killings with him. Plus I would also add in what he said in ch.21 , where he literally states that he would give “Hikaru” his whole EVERYTHING if it meant that he could live somewhere as he pleased. He’s always thinking about others’ needs before his owns , deciding to share burdens that don’t have anything to do with him and he shouldn’t be carrying.

Other obvious trait very common in people suffering from this condition is having codependent relationships , which perfectly describes what he has with “Hikaru”. Hikaru is no longer here , so I’d rather have a fake around than having to live without him. This is what he says more or less in ch.1 , and it’s actually so heartbreaking to hear because Hikaru was quite literally Yoshiki’s light and source of comfort. He was the one always protecting Yoshiki and taking care of him. So when “Hikaru” goes “I bet you were crying not wanting for me to leave you” it is actually true , Yoshiki is no good without Hikaru! (or at least that’s what he thinks , but I swear you are baby 😭)

And even tho in ch.21 we see his journey of processing his grief for Hikaru’s death finally ending, he’s now becoming even more attached to “Hikaru” and getting all worried when he started thinking that maybe going back to the mountain might be the best option. You can clearly see his distress as he says “Didn’t you finally find the place you belong? You can’t do that. Let’s find another solution together”

Another thing is obviously the fact that he hates being scolded , especially when he’s so well behaved all the time like mokmoklen said.

I would also like to add the fact that he thinks so lowly of himself when he’s actually such a caring and kindhearted person. He says that he’s not sweet , and that he’s as hard on others like he is on himself. But as soon as Asako feels insecure about her hair he goes “I can definitely ask my mom since she’s a hairdresser” , we can see his kindness in the way he cares for his sister etc …

Anyways this was just me rambling about him because mokmoklen is able to write such beautiful characters and Yoshiki is literally my son

[doomspiral]

Doom's Movie Rec List

Some of these are bangers, some of these are the worst thing I have ever seen in my life, but I think they are all worth watching and enjoying one way or another. Sometimes the enjoyment is cringe and sometimes its staring at a wall for three hours. <3

The seventh seal (1957)

Classic chess game with Death film, I presume the entire thing is Bergman staring into the soul of the viewer in dead silence until you can read his mind.

The cabinet of Dr. Caligary (1920)

Strange, lurching, I watched this in German without knowing enough to keep up and I believe my confusion added to the experience.

Atomic blonde (2017)

This is my favorite movie. This is the one that I can't stop rewriting in my fics. I can't get the "lies" soliloquy out of my mind. My soul is tied to this fillum. Hot insane woman does a lot of violence, kisses women, beats up a guy who truly deserves it. Iron Curtain Spy Nonsense.

Hackers (1994)

Am I depressing you? Good, watch Hackers to experience child-like wonder and also see a grown man skateboard down a foggy street in the middle of the night to harass the homosexual teenagers (and slim shady) he's beefing with.

The core (2003)

This is not a good movie. But there is a little freak in there named "Rat" who I am obsessed with.

Angel's egg (1985)

This is the kind of movie where you have to not try to figure out what's going on and instead let it take you by the hands, just experience it, just keep your mouth shut and your mind at rest and you can consider the implications afterward when its safe.

Princess mononoke (1997)

I watched this as a child and saw those beasts dissolve into bloody worms and apparently that left a lasting mark on my brain.

Nausicaä of the valley of wind (1984)

I actually read the manga for this one but this is a movie rec list, so please go watch this for the death and rebirth vibes, and some mild foeyay yuri.

Invasion of the body snatchers (1978)

Horror movie that's odd and disturbing and clearly betraying some better dead than red fears, worth it for the horrible despicable freakish noise the guy makes at the end while pointing at the viewer.

Strange days (1995)

Please read up on this before watching it, it revolves around a fictional, then-futuristic critique of the adult film industry, HEAVY focus on the capitalistic dehumanization and devaluing of human life.

Underworld (2003)

Bad asses in leather fighting monsters. Core memory.

Blade (1998)

Bad asses in leather fighting monsters but maybe you need a break from how white this whole movie list is overall. That's okay, I see you, this vampire flick fucks severe.

Fright night (1985, 2011)

The first movie is pretty campy (fun) but the remake dug into my actual stressors and fears and scared the lights from my eyes for a day or two. Welcome... to FrrrighT NighT.

Dracula (1931, 1992)

First movie is a classic, this is thee one with the guy crawling around like a lizard and there's armadillos for no reason. The 90's version has no business being as deranged as it is and for this it is a core personality trait movie.

Fast&furious: Tokyo drift (2006)

Not sure I would say this is peak cinema but it's a racing movie that falls in line with the F&F tradition of being clearly in love with the entire premise, location, and cast. Rent free.

Drive (2011)

I like this movie because it is not about the guy getting the girl, it is about doing the right thing every single time because that's what it takes to be a real human bean. being. whichever. I was so obnoxious about this movie when I watched it with my now-ex gf that I wish I could siphon the memory of it out of her brain, because I kept pointing at actors I knew.

Green room (2015)

This is the best punk parable I can think of. Litany against not reading the room, litany against being the hero when there's no one to save, litany against thinking shared trauma is gonna get you any pussy.

Lords of chaos (2018)

I'm obsessed with the band Mayhem there is no other explanation.

There will be blood (2007)

WILD WEST TOXIC YAOI. I'm not apologizing for this summary and I'm not elaborating.

Butch Cassidy and the sundance kid (1969)

I don't know. I watched this in the wee hours of the morning with my best friend and actually cried about it. Doomed criminals and a famous final stand.

Saw (2004)

I used to watch Saw movies when I lived in the trailer park while hiding from my family in a neighbor's place so I don't know if these movies are good or if I needed to watch tortureporn to relax bcs the roof leaked on my bed when it rained? But I think everyone should at least watch the first movie or how are you going to play any games?

Chernobyl diaries (2012)

I walked out of this movie shaking head to toe and couldn't think about anything else for months. I don't think I'd be as scared now but I can't say if that's because I'm not 16 anymore. Warning against going into a dangerous situation with a guy you met off Craigslist.

Constantine (2005)

Demon hoards, evil angels, catholic bullshit, 9/10.

The neverending story (1984)

Well after all that let's reinstate some whimsy into our souls again bcs this is the Jim Henson Power Hour. This one is just a solid entry point into "puppets are fun and practical effects are my best friend".

The dark crystal (1982)

My babysitters put this on for me as a bed-time story when I was five (5) years old and I do not believe I slept, I think they regretted this and had to tell my parents what they did. But now I will never stop making Skeksis noises at people I love.

Labyrinth (1986)

Y'know the phenomenon of alt teens and preteens dating young adult men who are total and complete losers, including actual band members? It's not that this pre-dates any of that, but I believe it does a good job representing it through the lens of a modern fairy tale. Like when you watch this you have to realize this is wish fulfillment for people who want to be Sarah because their age-gap goth boyfriend in the real world is a manipulative disappointment.

Pacific rim (2013)

Love letter to the mecha and kaiju genre(s). Makes no sense, compels me though.

Eurotrip (2004)

This is the movie "Scotty doesn't know" is from. Some high schoolers fuck off to Europe and have the most misadventure possible. It's somehow exactly the kind of cringe humor you would expect from the 00's without being cruel or overly disgusting. I used to watch a lot of really bad 00's comedies and this is a good one I promise. Scussie.

Hamlet (1996)

Personality point, I think this is the best version on film because the guy actually looks like how I envisioned Hamlet. Ignore your girl! Avenge your dad!

Advantageous (2015)

This movie goes in on the connection between race and class in a sci-fi future where you can change the former through predatory, dangerous cosmetic surgery.

Gravity (2013)

This is my go-to movie when I need to sob like a sick little baby. Space travel as a metaphor for motherhood, spaceships as the womb, scientists are the babies who left their babies back on earth. It's about what you give up in the name of fulfilling your human urge for the unknown.

All clear on the western front (2022)

Thee anti-war fillum. Very well done. I never recovered from one of the final scenes to the point I wrote a final paper on it. Without spoiling it, the Ending gave me the feeling of when you're a kid and you want to go play, but you're grounded and you fall asleep listening to your friends outside in the street. I hope this sentence ruins your life if you watch this movie.

Inglorious basterds (2009)

They lock some nazis in a theatre and set them on fire, good cinema.

Shadow dancer (2012)

Domhnall Gleeson in one of his classically pathetic twink roles but its about British imperial violence and Irish reactionary violence.

Logan (2017)

Good art film, a story about dementia, legacies, and why putting children in cages is fucking evil.

The batman (2022)

Weird art film, next question.

Joker (2019)

I do not care about the opinions of straight men who watch things uncritically, this is a good movie because of the depictions of poverty in the US. I don't believe this needed to be about the DC Joker this should have been a standalone art film about a mime.

Dragonheart (1996)

Medieval era dragon nonsense, I will never be convinced this is a bad movie.

Sleeping beauty (1959)

Personality trait was rooting for the dragon.

Snow dogs (2002)

I'm not defending this one it stands on its own, please watch this movie if you wanna see Cuba Gooding Jr. bite a husky's ear so it'll stop ruining his life.

Luck of the irish (2001)

This movie is genuinely so bad I have considered it some kind of hate crime since the day it came out, because I watched this the day it was a direct-to-TV movie. I think I was too young to feel insulted but I was deeply, deeply bemused.

Black swan (2010)

There is a woman inside her and she is trying to crash the plane. Can I get away with calling this foe-yay yuri also? I'm going to.

I, tonya (2017)

Sufjan Stevens' song "Tonya Harding in Eb major" makes me so unreasonably emotional, so one day I watched this movie and then the film of the 1988 Calgary Olympics in the living room while all of my housemates had to sneak around in the dark. This is just a solid movie about ambition, betrayal, abuse, tragedy, and having to get over it and move on because you're not dead yet.

Phantom of the opera (2004)

Whatever was going on in Labyrinth, this is the adult version. Weird man in a sewer possessing a soprano. I think there's some gender happening here but it gets a little lost under the love(?) triangle.

A knights tale (2001)

Just go watch some more medieval nonsense, it's good for you, its fun.

White chicks (2004)

I'm not defending this choice, it's a good movie. "You were thinking it" "Yeah but you said it" there are some phrases you could use to see if I had been replaced with a body double and this is one of them.

Heathers (1988)

Ouughhgh ough oh. Personality trait. Watched this because I kept listening to the musical soundtrack, love both but agree the themes are much tighter in the movie. This is just a fun schlock to tell teens life is stupid and difficult and bad things will happen, so don't abandon your friends.

Priscilla queen of the desert (1994)

Classic homo fillum, if you wonder why I write Gilbert Like That it's partially because of the mean little fruit from this movie. It's about the Aussie drag scene and who belongs in the queer community.

300 (2006)

I'm not sure that I would call this a "good" movie, but it's a classic as far as I'm concerned. This is the "THIS IS SPARTA" movie.

The foreigner (2017)

I actually don't remember the plot of this one too solidly but the suspense and action were solid, and I enjoyed the setup. Good for if you wanna be really pissed off for two hours.

Conan the barbarian (1982)

Look at me. Look into my eyes. You're going to watch this movie. You're going to think about the wheel of pain and you're going to go wow, this is so stupid. Don't look away I'm not done. You're going to watch this movie and then you're going to get a couple of paper towel tubes and find someone to beat the shit out of each other with the tubes.

Law abiding citizen (2009)

I don't know I think watching this movie changed my brain chemistry in very special ways. Guy fucking loses it and becomes a problem for his local community by kidnapping and torturing people who killed his family. Cathartic and vile.

Black dog (1998)

:D DO YOU WANNA WATCH AN ACTION MOVIE ABOUT AN 18-WHEELER?

The hunt for red october (1990)

Almost forgot this one. Lithuanian Submariner off the shits, goes rogue, I'm not sure what accent Sean Connery is going for, I get the impression he just showed up to gigs and did whatever he wanted.

[relatableblorbopoll]

Round 1 of preliminaries, group 14

The first two places get a place on the bracket

Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket

Propaganda under the cut

Oz Vessalius (Pandora Hearts)

"Struggles with self-worth, adores books, ADHD (though that’s not canon—but he fits the diagnostic criteria), his strongest/most important relationships are platonic"

Sound (My School President)

"Lonely gay teenager who tries to be cool and sauve but gets adopted against his will by a group of losers and then falls for one of the losers who gets on his nerves a lot because he was nice to him once and then he gets all awkward and flustered around the boy and tries to avoid him and antagonize him but the boy sees through it and they eventually end up together and he becomes the most annoying person in love ever"

Luz Noceda (The Owl House)

"adhd. possibly some autism too. a weird girl who got outcasted by being herself and sure has some WACK coping mechanisms to deal with it. self worth is IN THE DRAIN. gnc and not straight. writes fanfic. artist. goes through a depression era when at her moms house. loves her mom also. this is canon stuff i'm saying"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA she is so ASDHSUJD. Okay I started watching the owl house because I knew there was a WLW couple, so obviously I had to check it out. But upon watching the show, I got so emotionally connected to it, or moreso the protagonist, Luz, that it could go beyond some people's understandings... I remember that almost any scene showing her neurodivergent traits would hit SO. CLOSE. HOME. It would be unbelievable. I literally rewatched the show more than seventeen times one summer. She is just so goshdarn relatable man. She's the weird kid, has no friends, loves making anime edits, is OBSESSED with a book series, loves witches and magic and stuff, has ADHD, an attention span that is so high when she's engaging with something she likes doing and so low when she's bored. She's just so lovely. I know a lot of people found her annoying in season one but she hit close home to me. Season two was amazing as well and she started getting even MORE relatable!! She started showing her people pleasing, how much she blames herself, it was so sad but I was glad to see a character I could relate to so much on screen. I mean i personally didn't experience the loss of my father and I personally do have one friend whom I'm able to share my life with, but she's still super relatable. She can be so silly and so cool. And her impulsivity and the way she realized she doesn't know what she wants to do when she grows up also hit close home. Mwah"

Gundham Tanaka (Super Danganronpa 2)

"Goth autistic theater kid"

Saiki Kusuo (Saiki Kusuo no Psi Nan/The Disastrous Life of Saiki K)

"He's very dead inside, especially in the English Dub, and introverted. But even so, he cares a lot for his friends, even if he never says it to them and he finds them annoying most of the times. He also be nosey and just insert himself into others' situations that don't involve him (obviously, he makes it so that nobody knows he's there and, obviously, he's also complaining about this all the time). He's canonically aroace, or at least aroace spec He's canonically trans. He was born as a girl but he didn't like it so he immediately turned himself into a boy with his psychic powers. An argument could be made about him being on the autism spectrum."

Drew (The Music Freaks)

"I don't like him actually I hate him and love him st the same time in fact but. This man is so real and such a horrible jerkwad to everyone around him. I mean I can't relate to THAT but I should mention he also gets jelous easily, he is in love with his best friend who does not like him back, he's all moody and grouchy and bratty. And so am I and I hate it lol."

[letdownthepainful]

okay so something i was thonking about this blog @ask-the-splitmind-au (and credit to the owner whos name i cant remember IM SORRY) and i thought on my own take of this. So enjoy my thought vomit.

Artificer/FP: Artificer was basically considered as a failsafe from the start. FP knew the rot was coming, but he figured.. he had time! So he kept her around as a pet and insurance policy. He just never thought he’d come around to it. Essentially, he forsees he is fucking COOKED, so he sedates Arti and puts on a rushed conciousness transfer. This partially works! FP is saved, but it leads to personalities bleeding, resulting in a pretentious and judgy Artificer with resentment issues.

FP also takes on some of Arti’s traits, but moreso her pre-incident defintive parental traits when he’s in partial control. However, he still has that WALL of cynical thoughts. He’s still very unfamiliar with controlling a slugcat body, though.

Spearmaster/SRS: SRS saw this as the workaround to avoid a death by inevitable collapse. All other simulations he ran seemed even WORSE, so he decided SM was the best bet. The transfer for this one was less rushed, so it worked much better. SRS is the dominant personality, though Spearmaster can still take over. (And OFTEN.) They also finally have a mouth, as SRS wanted to experience some senses for himself. Though SRS is guilty about resorting to this method, they’re happy (partially) to be living life through a new set of eyes. SM doesn’t mind, as SRS usually lets them take the wheel whenever. The sensation of speaking is new, though.

Rivulet/LttM: A bit of a oddball one. FP was who brought the message this was possible to them both, and Moon, tired of being couped up, decided at a shot. Took a VERY long time to set up due to Moon’s state, but they took the shot in the dark and lo and behold, it WORKED! Rivulet and Moon mostly share control, with Moon able to interject and addon, while Rivulet mostly holds physical control while letting Moon whenever the time may arise. The shared partnership, a bit of a gem. Moon has a small crush on SRS that Rivulet encourages her to pursue.

Hunter/NSH: Another funny one. This one was moreso due to the absolutely horrible idea that NSH could maybe make it reversible after he got the brief idea of the slugcat experience. Shit out of luck! NSH got stuck with Hunter, and neither were happy but eventually got used to it, since NSH did use the time to surgically remove Hunter’s rot. NSH mostly is in control, Hunter deciding they’d rather rest after a misfortunate lifetime, but occasionally hijack for a while when they feel the urge to.

Saint (“Sliver of Straw”): A insanely botched one. Unlike normal, SoS made Saint using her templates from backup personality coding that was to be used only in emergencies. However, Saint eventually ascended SoS, and this led to a big problem when everything ran.

Since Saint had the coding, their mind warped to the idea that they WERE Sliver of Straw, even of they aren’t. They fully believe they are the iterator herself, and refuse to accept the idea they aren’t. After all, who else would have such divine power wielded? They’re calm, but a bit bitchy and pretentious due to believing they are.. well.. a random god.

thanks for listening yo

[fudanshipoe]

dazai/yosano character parallels analysis ★

includes: connection/past with Mori, themes of humanity, dehumanization, life/death, change, and Elise(?)

wc: 1.5k

Beginning with the most glaring similarity, they have a mutual connection with Mori as a mentor figure in their past. (I'm not sure if I would assign the “mentor” role to him for Yosano, but for the lack of a better word, that's what he will be called here </3). He represents an important part of their traumatic pasts but in different ways. I want to stress the importance of understanding that the two of them were abused in different ways because of how Mori himself regarded each of the two, and that this is not to say one was worse than the other. I would also like to negate any argument that Dazai was not abused by Mori, this is false. While that is another topic I want to discuss in the future, I just want to get that out there.

Both are victims of Mori's tactics of controlling abuse and were utilized as tools for his plans. Yosano was used for her ability, as she was useful under Mori's immortal soldier regiment, while Dazai was picked up with the intentions to mentor him as a future successor to Mori because of their shared traits (refer to the 15 quote provided, their “common destiny” is being the Port Mafia boss). The reason I say they are abused in different ways is because of the methods Mori enacts on the both of them. While I don't want to say he respects Dazai more as an individual because of that inherent fear he carries of Dazai, however, I'm not really sure what else to word it as. Dazai is able to carry out a lot of his own volition while under Mori in the Port Mafia, and while he was still in a horrible place under this treatment, he did have some level of freedom on his own because of the way Mori viewed him. Mori recognizes that: one, Dazai lacks morals at this point in his life, two, that he is not loyal to Mori and could take him out at any moment (I would argue that he expects it if anything), and three, that Dazai is an extremely intelligent child beyond his years. Since he recognizes all of these aspects, he still controls Dazai to the degree he acts to everyone else, but he also does not push Dazai too extremely. Of course this is not to say his abuse to Dazai was not harsh, I am trying to compare the way Mori treated Yosano vs Dazai, and how this has affected them individually, not by the severity of either. He noticeably treats Yosano harsher, and he does go as far as to lay a hand on her, in the form of grabbing her hair. While he is not a physically abusive person, instead using psychological methods more often, this is an example of the disregard he has for Yosano as an individual herself. She is diminished to her ability in his eyes, and Dazai is almost akin to a mirror in at least Mori's eyes. Both of these lead into my next point, the way both of them experience dehumanization.

Both Dazai and Yosano are, to some degree, seen as inhuman for their abilities and past sins. This can be seen in something as simple as the names they are given by others in their lives. They are the "Angel of Death" and the "Demon Prodigy." Both of these names assigned to them from those around them serve as stark reminders of their past wrongdoings, to which I will expand upon later. Yosano was essentially forced to play God with countless lives until she created her own undead hell, and this burdens her for the rest of her life. As a result of these events, even though it was not something under her control as an eleven year old child, she is viewed in a vicious light for her ability and involvement. Similarly, Dazai's humanity is disregarded by those around him because of his actions and behaviors, but most importantly, his nature. To follow a commonly stated metaphor in BSD, his blood is mafia black. During his time in the Port Mafia, Dazai racked up a laundry list of crimes, and the methods he used were seen as cruel even by Port Mafia standards. Of course, his actions are not justified by the fact that he is a child during this time. Dazai is very much a person guilty of crimes enacted upon others, so he is not absolved from all agency in this, but it is still important to understand that his actions were heavily for survival and his own self destructive pursuit to find something to live for.

Coming back to these two and their pasts as these inhumane figures, both also go through a series of changes as a person to go on a better path. Dazai himself could care less about good vs bad during his Port Mafia days because there was no person who guided him properly on that course, but once Oda's death sets Dazai's path in stone on the good side. Oda's final request to him is to be on the good side, despite the indifference Dazai harbors. Dazai lives out this path up to the current events of the timeline, and he clearly benefits from being in the Agency. He goes to deliberate lengths to hide from his past as well, he avoids any possible association with that and denies similarities between him and those he has harmed during his Port Mafia days, namely those he hurt, like Akutagawa. At the same time, as I pointed out, Dazai is making the conscious choice to change. Yosano follows this similar path of trying with the Agency because of Fukuzawa and Ranpo picking her up from Mori after the isolation facility. The Agency does not require her for her ability, unlike Mori did, she is more than it. She chooses to continue to save lives with her ability because she so heavily values human life.

And this brings me to my next point, their shared connection with life and death, and their attitudes surrounding it. Both Dazai and Yosano greatly value life, as ridiculous as that sounds for a character like Dazai. Yosano is intrinsically connected to the cycle between life and death because of the nature of her ability. She holds life as having more value than death itself, and she expresses this with her drive to save lives. Dazai does not have the ability to control the cycle itself, but he does have a connection to it through his suicidal nature. He stumbles between the line of living and dying due to his inability to find a purpose to live, but he does appreciate life. Dazai appreciates the way other characters such as Oda live their lives, and the humanity Dazai sees in them. He does not believe there is an inherent value to his own life, but he voices his opinions on the human experience and he admires how others do find a reason to live. Dazai and Yosano's frame of mind surrounding life and death is not the same, however, they do share a mutual value for humanity and life in some fashion, even if Dazai seeks out death more than Yosano ever does.

Now, to address Elise. Her as a topic is separate from the rest only because the connection between her, Dazai, and Yosano is speculation on my part. It is not something observable as fact to canon, unlike something as the two's relationships with Mori or their shared themes. It is clear that Elise is at least partially inspired by an eleven year old Yosano. Before the events of the Great War, Elise is shown to follow orders blindly. She is a subservient ability, and her usual liveliness is not present at this time. This changes after Mori loses Yosano, and Elise behaves like an average child at this point, but the specific traits he takes from Yosano are her willpower and opinionated personality. Another notable detail in Elise's design is her hair bow, which does resembles Yosano's hair pin. This can be attributed to Mori's obsession with Yosano at this age, but I don't believe her likeness to Yosano is only because of that. She also shares traits with Dazai. What I'm referring to his her hair and attitude towards Mori himself. Outside of the time when Elise is based upon someone else, she wears her hair up in a bun. Though she is absent from timeliness between the Great War, we do see her after that, and she now has more open, wavy hair. While you can attribute to this design just for the sake of it, I do think it is interesting to point out this similarity between her and Dazai because Yosano has perfectly straight hair. Elise also chastises Mori, something that Yosano does not do, but Dazai does voice his disapproval of Mori and straight points out his faults, which Elise does too. She also exhibits similar behavior to Dazai in negotiating for what they want, neither lies, and I say this is a trait she got from Dazai only because Yosano does not do this. I think that Mori projects traits of these two onto Elise, a manifestation of his desires, both because of the obsession and because Yosano+Dazai symbolize regret from the past.

[yakool-foolio]

what would you say are the traits to keep in mind for preventing mischaracterization of Yuma?

It's worth clarifying before I go into this that these are traits I personally look out for whenever I plan to write for Yuma. This isn't a targeted critique at anyone else's interpretation of Yuma. Writers are free to write however they want for a character, and I just happen to stick closer to canon while still taking creative liberties with elements that I believe can be expanded upon. If anything, this is just a nice reminder for myself, while potentially giving advice to those looking for it. Anyways, I gotta actually answer the question!

I haven't written as much with Yuma as I've done for Vivia, Yakou, Yomi, and even Shinigami (I really need to write more for Hitman Zilch too augh). But I still like to have some things in mind just in case I ever decide to write for him. The main aspect of Yuma's characterization that I try not to slip up on is his amnesia! From what I've noticed, Yuma remembers what things are, but doesn't remember any experiences he has with those things. For example, he knows what detectives are, but he doesn't remember ever working as one, which extends over into all memories of the WDO. He knows what cooking is and remembers the basics of how to cook, but he can't remember any actual recipes that he's read, so he ends up making horrible food. In essence, it's like if a phone wasn't factory reset, but the photo album and downloaded apps were completely wiped, and only the basic apps automatically on the phone remain.

This next element isn't necessarily for Yuma specifically, but it's a very important part of his arc: don't forget Shinigami! She's here, she's there, she's everywhere! While she can turn invisible at will (as shown by chapter 0's aftermath), she's still chained to him throughout the entire game and loves to comment about almost everything going on around them. They tend to bicker in their shared thoughts, which is fun to capture when thinking about scenes for them. This is something that matters to me a lot since I'll be writing a lot of Shinigami for my Death Knight Yakou AU. I always want to keep in mind that Shinigami will most likely have something to say at anything that catches her eye, and whether Yuma (or Yakou in my case) ignores it, replies to it, or turns it into a full-on conversation depending on what's called for and if it'll add anything small to their characters or have some entertainment value.

Last but not least, Yuma isn't wholly innocent or exempt from indirectly killing culprits. Yuma actively decides to access the Mystery Labyrinths as a sort of self-defense mechanism. When he or his allies are at risk of being hurt or killed, he calls upon Shinigami, despite knowing that the culprits will be killed and that it won't ensure their safety. The only reason Yuma and his allies weren't killed in chapter 3 and 4 was because of good timing from others intervening. He may have killed in an act of self-defense and to better understand the conflict, but it doesn't mean he's clean of any blood on his hands, especially when he wanted to kill Icardi for the murder of Shachi. When he's angry, he's angry. He has shown that he can be enraged enough to want someone to die, so I like to have that stored in the back of my mind if ever I need to write for a wrathful Yuma that can and will choose violence if his back is to the wall and his allies are in danger.

[rainbowcarousels]

I'm going to need your thoughts Sephiroth for the character asks 🥹🖤3 <3 <3

Sexuality Headcanon: Gay. So gay. Did I mention he's gay? I mean I think there is some potential wiggle room with Aerith but that's because her balls are bigger than his.

Gender Headcanon: I think in practice from an outsider POV, more agender than anything else. Gender is not really something that he thinks of and interacts with other than his discomfort with how he gets portrayed in the media. That said, I think if you asked him, he would say CIS male because that's how he self identifies so I'll respect that and say CIS male.

A ship I have with said character: Have I mentioned Genseph to you lately? No? Then I must be dead. Like I love AGSZC, I do, and even more than that, I love AGS in general because I believe they balance each other out but I could happily ship Genesis/Sephiroth on it's own maerits, but I can't see Sephiroth/Angeal on it's own. It's not a notp or anything, it just doesn't work in terms of balance for me. Genesia and Sephiroth fire and ice in balance and it just works. They push and pull at each other, both literally and metaphorically, and what they say and what their body says are sometimes in total contrast which fascinates me. Genesis is quite literally the choatic colour for a monochromatic world and Sephiroth needs that chaos to find himself so he doesn't get the desire for human smores.

A BROTP I have with said character: It's a toss up. I would say Aerith because that same feral energy comes from her (family trait clearly) but they both also have this shared experience of being former Shinra lab kiddos and her enthusiasm is only rivalled by Zack's. I feel like Sephiroth always needs someone to just grab him and move instead of asking him to come along and Aerith does that. That said, professionally, I'm fond of him and Tseng interacting. Like they have so much to deal with between choatic red heads and Heidegger being a few fries short of a moogle meal at his job, let them bond.

A NOTP I have with said character: Vincent. I can't ship something where 'that's not how your mum used to do it' is a response that could be canonically correct.

A random headcanon: Understands so much more than he's given credit for. I love to write roboseph as much as the next person, but I feel like he leans into it in a very Captain Holt type way and it's become part of his sense of humour to fuck with people by pretending he doesn't understand something or that he's not understanding their meaning till they get annoyed and let him be or call him on it. This is helped along by being so deadpan that it's almost impossible to know when he's being serious. He is a study in microexpressions and few people understand them.

General Opinion over said character: I think one of the things that throws me about Sephiroth is when people can't see CC era Sephiroth being the same guy as OG/AC era Sephiroth, but for me, this is one of the things that drew me to him as a character. That he is someone who got broken into pieces and is picking them up, emulating people, trying to rebuild a sense of self but clinging onto this belief that he's special because he's always been special. Like this is a person who is horribly broken in a lot of ways and one day, I want to write AC era and give him an arc with that but I think my main opinion of him is that I love that he's got all of these facets of his character.

He is the kid looking for validation and family from TFS, he is still the awkward dude from CC, he is the person who lost everything and chose to just get a meteor and start over and he's someone who is afraid of losing whatever he has of himself left. Like he contains multitudes, he's a fascinating character made all the more fascinating by the more normal things about him.