#ie melancholy

[neithercrazynorfree]

There is something very cathartic (lol) to me about imagining them as exes or as still antagonistic to one another as long as the relationship develops and they are changed by one another

Ik vld ended with everyone having this achingly cold and distant relationship with each other and kl more or less disliking each other and its all sooo depressing but…. ok fuhgetabout it for a second…. imagine if the chemistry between kl was still hot like a boiling stew a la s1 but they just grew to hate each other lol….. ^_^ teehee just playing around in my mind a little bit okay? Ofc there is still begrudging respect but basically they just continue to annoy one another and it gets worse. A lot of it due to mutual envy for the established reasons….. lance envies the respect granted to Keith + Keith’s stats and keith envies lance’s friendship (which Lance denies him)…. of course that’s only the foundation for the dislike but things compound …. over time Keith is able to make friends with hunk and pidge who try to convince him lance isn’t so bad but KL try to give each other a shot more than once and it ends up bad. Lance starts leveling up his skills and keith begins to compete with him a la sasuke post first itachi encounter minus the slipping into the darkness, and also its much more indirect. He uses Lance as motivation and vice versa, but they never talk about it bc they don’t talk. There is no pining but there is a dull sadness. Some things never seem to fucking work

[synthient]

2nd watch, a few new details:

On the first watch, I was like "of course Owen couldn't go with Maddy the first time, her mom had cancer :(". But this time I caught that Maddy went missing "a few weeks" after Owen's mom died. Owen had nothing left to stay for. Maddy probably waited around for those extra weeks, just in case Owen had a change of heart. And yet,

The first time we see the dress flashback, it's through what seems like a relatively objective perspective. The second time we see it (as they walk to the grave), the memory has taken on the vhs-fuzz and aspect ratio of the pink opaque tapes. The real becomes unreal, an impossible fantasy, "kid stuff"

Happened to see a captioned screening this time, and the Tara from the streaming version is described as "Fake Tara."

The tv guide page Owen finds by the electrical field is for "season 6, episode 1: Escape from the Midnight Realm"

Mr. Melancholy and Maddy's ex friend who accused them of dykery ("like a secret agent sent to ruin my life") were the same actor

All the school hallway motivational posters are thematically relevant, but this time I caught the "the only easy day is yesterday" and "courage: without it, no other virtues matter" ones

You can see the emotional shifts between Owen and Narrator Owen in real time (ie, Owen looking distraught as the firefighters surround Maddy's tv, then dropping the expression and looking coolly into the camera as she starts to narrate again)

There's an interesting recurring thing where audio from the near "future" plays over footage from the "past." ie, we hear Maddy's planetarium monologue, while we watch Owen still walking to the school to meet them. Something about time not working right, something about Owen playing back memories that already happened, something about inevitability and walking down a path with a fixed ending

Void High School, or VHS

[sungbeam]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

gamer/streamer!choi beomgyu x f!reader

1.5k words, fluff/comfort, reader has hair long enough for a claw clip, strawberries, est. relationship au, the background info dump in the beginning was for my own entertainment tbh

Choi Beomgyu loved you.

Sometimes he wondered how you could possibly love someone like him—a loser who streamed League half the day away, lived in his pajamas, and dropped out of college to play video games for hundreds of thousands of people online. He barely went out of the house, unless it was to touch grass, but he had managed to snag your attention nonetheless.

He liked to joke that you were in it for his celebrity status. It was made all the more ironic, since you had no idea who he was when he'd first introduced himself to you in the self-checkout aisle of a grocery store, and you'd stared at him like he was high. Beomgyu, humbled to all hell, had stuttered out an apology and bowed about ninety degrees—then asked for your number like a normal person.

Ah, good times.

He'd then somehow mustered up enough swagger to date you for two years and counting. And now, you were moved in and got to hear him yell at a handful of computer monitors for twelve hours a day. (Love was funny, wasn't it?)

But if forever was the sweetest con, then dear god, he hoped he could pull this one off.

It was during one of his streams that he heard the front door slam from his office. He had just finished a round, and when he had heard the door but not your voice, he pushed back from his desk so he could lean back and give you a holler. "Yn! Yn-ie! Babyyyyy!"

He waited a beat.

A frown curled his mouth downward when he didn't hear your reply. Uh oh.

Tongue in cheek, Beomgyu used his feet to bring him back to his computer screen. His eyes flickered with the pace at which his chat flew past. "Hey chat, I need to check up on my girl. I'll be right back. Go get a snack or something."

With that, he dumped his headset onto the desk and raced out of the office.

He flew out into the main living space of the apartment, his eyes scanning the premises for you. With both of your incomes combined, the two of you managed to live comfortably in a nice apartment complex just north of the main city center. You both shared a bedroom and bathroom, while also getting separate, small office spaces. You used yours a lot less than he did his, but it was nice to have one in case.

Instead of your figure, he found your keys and shoes by the door, and a grocery bag on the island counter.

He backpedaled over to the bedroom next, head poking into the darkened room. His voice came out low, "Babe, you here?"

"Yeah," came your small response.

He tracked it to the bathroom, where you were hunched over your sink in the dark, your hair pulled back in a claw clip. Your face was damp like you had just washed it, but he didn't miss the way you were wiping at your eyes. Something sank in his chest, something heavy that made his body slump in dread.

"Sorry, I didn't wanna bother you," you said, forcing stability into your voice, even if it still shook a little.

You reached for your facial towel to hide your melancholy, but Beomgyu liked to think he paid more attention than you were giving him credit for.

He wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Hey, you're never a bother; you know that," he replied softly. "What's wrong, hm? How can I help?"

Your body shook with a sob as you cried into the towel. Beomgyu's chest clenched at the sound, at the feeling. God, he was right here, and yet, he felt so helpless, so useless. "It's nothing—I… I just… I'm just tired," you managed to say.

You sniffled, avoiding his eyes in the dark mirror as you set the towel aside and began washing your face again.

Beomgyu pursed his lips and sucked in a breath. "Yn-ie, you know I'm not just gonna let you go to sleep this upset, baby."

When you'd patted your face dry again, you were left with reddened, puffy eyes. You turned around to press your face into his warm chest. His arms looped around you like second nature to hold you to him.

Beomgyu gently smoothed a hand over the back of your head, letting the tension from the claw clip loosen the headache no doubt forming in your cranium. He clipped the accessory to his belt loop, quietly trying to calm your muffled cries. "Come on. Let's get some food into your stomach, okay? It'll make you feel better."

He led you out to the kitchen, helping you onto one of the bar stools while he rummaged through the grocery bag you brought home. His chest panged when he imagined you going through the grocery store while holding back tears. Had you cried there, or perhaps it had all come flooding out here?

There were a few things to add to the fridge, but he found a carton of big, red strawberries at the bottom of the bag. He released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in—you'd managed to get yourself something. Good. He was glad.

Usually in your shared household, you were the one to wash and cut and peel fruit for him. You fed him all the healthy things, kept him a normal functioning human being. You kept him sane.

So Beomgyu took the carton of strawberries out of the bag and transferred them to a colander to be washed. He then carefully sliced the stems off each berry, sliced them into halves, until the colander was empty and the bowl he had on the counter, filled.

He wiped his hands on the towel hanging below the sink, then brought the bowl of glistening red fruit before you.

"For you," he murmured, one warm palm pressed between your shoulder blades, his lips brushing a kiss to your hairline. "I'll be right back."

Beomgyu hurried back to the office to find his viewers waiting.

He braced his arm on the desk, forgoing sitting down in the chair. He swept a lock of his long hair out of his eyes as he skimmed some of the live comments in the chat. A huff of laughter, then a shake of his head. "You guys are so weird. I'm signing off for the night though—no, I don't owe you an explanation... Okay, it's my baby—yeah, yeah, I see you rampaging in the comments, Chenle."

Beomgyu wrinkled his nose playfully. "I'm not a fuckin' simp, you losers. At least I have a partner. Okay, whatever. Later, guys."

He turned off the stream with a tap of his mouse, and then he was back by your side. You seemed to have calmed down a little, but what lacked your sobbing came a sad, startling quiet. Quiet from you wasn't unusual per se, but this one felt empty.

Beomgyu stood behind your stool, one of his arms curling around your middle as he peered over your shoulder at the bowl. You'd eaten a few slices of the fruit while he was gone, but it wasn't as much as he had hoped you would have eaten.

He released a light exhale, reaching for a strawberry slice and popping it into his mouth. He leaned his head against yours. "Wanna snuggle?" He asked you quietly.

A small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and he mentally high-fived himself. "Is that a yes?" He gasped with a childlike excitement. "You wanna snuggle with me?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet, but that was okay. He heard you loud and clear.

You turned on the stool so you could wrap your limbs around his body.

Beomgyu cooed softly. "My sweet baby. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way." He kissed your head again, his arms shifting so he could hoist your body up and carry you over to the sofa with him.

He collapsed onto the sofa with a melodramatic grunt, then flopped backward so you were lying on top of his chest. He wondered, with your ear pressed against him, if you could hear just how much your proximity affected him. Even after all this time. If, maybe, you felt even a fraction of what he felt for you (just a fraction would make his heart soar). There was no way you didn't, right?

He wrapped both arms around you with a sigh. "I know you don't want to talk about it," he murmured, "just know it'll be alright. All of it. Even if it seems like the world is falling apart, even if you feel like a failure—you will get through this. I know you can; I know you will."

Your first words since earlier to him came at almost an inaudible volume. "And if I can't? What then?"

"Then I'll be here to help you," he answered. Yes, that was it. His breath was warm against your cheek, against your ear. "I'll always be here."

txt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @hyunjaespresent-deobi @justanotherkpopstanlol @w3bqrl @super-btstrash-posts @hibernatinghamster @otchae @bigballsz @shakalakaboomboo @ashxxkook @kpop718 @ethereal-engene @soonyoungblr @wtfhyuck @kflixnet

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

The Girl That Disappeared | Suspect #2 JJK

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢  

✧ Synopsis: It was a gloomy Friday evening when you felt the mists of melancholy pulse through your veins, aching body floating above the deep water. Squeezing your eyes shut, your lips trembled with fear. You didn’t want to die, but you sure as hell didn’t want to live. Not in this town. Not with the people in it. So, why don’t you just disappear? Leave them to search for the remnants of who you had been before you realised that life is more painful than death. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook. Best-friend, step-brother, and an ex-lover. Although their paths had never crossed before that gloomy Friday evening, their names, printed in bold, now remained on the top of the suspect list. Stories entangled in your mystery.

✧ w/c: 6.1k ✧ a/n: a lot is going on here but please let me know what you think, mwuah 💓 ✧ taglist: @kookieandjoonberries @whoa-jo @taevestr @smoljimjim @kookxin

@11thenightwemet11 @xumyboo @kingofbodyrolls @jksusawife

“Y/n-ah! I’m leaving, please turn on the security,” your mother’s voice echoed from the entrance as you heard the front door close. She was working on-call today, and while it seemed like you finally had an opportunity to spend some quality time together, the hospital rang her in for an emergency operation at the last minute. 

“Okay, love you,” you yelled from your room, picking up the laundry off the floor before heading downstairs. No one was home. Mr. Kim had a night shift and wouldn’t be back until later and only God knew where Taehyung was. 

Scrolling through your phone, you smiled at the photos Jimin sent you from his parent’s ranch house. It’s been a week since he left, and you couldn’t help but miss him. The two of you haven’t gone this long without seeing each other, so it felt weird not being able to call him over. 

“Y/n, it’s so nice here, you would’ve loved it,” he smiled through the phone, resting his head on the soft pillow. 

“I bet,” you whined. 

“Next time, you’re coming with me, okay? There’s this waterfall I’ve been dying to show you,” 

“Okay … I missed you Jimin-ah,” your voice broke, glossy eyes looking down at the teddy bear he got for your birthday. 

“Y/n-ie, you know I missed you more,” Jimin moved in closer, placing a kiss on his front camera as you glanced up.

“Now, get some sleep, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, mmhm,”

“Goodnight,” you whispered with a little wave. 

“Sleep tight, angel,” 

He never called after that. All your attempts went straight to voicemail. It was strange, Jimin always valued communication, and never was the type to let you wonder about his whereabouts. Kept you posted even with a little “k”, just to signify that he got the message. But, now, it felt like he was gone. Vanished into thin air, like nothing happened. And, it killed you knowing that you couldn’t do anything about it. 

The clock read 7 am on the dot, which meant that you still had about two hours till the first bell. It was the first day of your period and your cramps were horrendous, to say the least. They’re usually a pain in the ass but never this bad. Looking through the medicine cabinet you rummaged past the bandaids and the gummy vitamins before remembering that Taehyung took the last Ibuprofen for his headache last night. It was ironic how little painkillers you had in the house, knowing that your mom was a doctor. But, it’s because she always preached the importance of letting your body heal naturally. Science could only get you so far, I guess? 

Zipping up your windbreaker, you grabbed your wallet and keys before heading outside to the local grocery store until the sound of a slammed door left you frozen in your tracks. It came from upstairs. Looking up at the dark corridor you turned on the lights, following the breeze seeping through the cracks of your room. 

“Taehyung?” you called, hands hovering over the doorknob. No one answered. Why would they? You were the only one in the house, right? 

“Taehyung, if this is one your stupid jok-” you whispered again before facing the empty room. 

No sight of Taehyung, but your window was open, which explained the door. The only problem was that you didn’t remember opening it in the first place. Nonetheless, you would gladly accept this version of the incident over the possibility of some paranormal activity. One problem at a time, please. 

So, you shut your blinds and went back downstairs to turn off the security system before grabbing your bike from the garage. You didn't have a licence, and only got your learners about a month ago, so if no one was home you had to resort to another form of transportation. 

You didn’t mind biking though. Found it rather therapeutic. Loved the alone time it allowed for without the bombardment of life and its constant obstacles. Just you and your thoughts. And, although there was a bit of a fog, it was clear enough to see where you were going. So, you buckled your helmet and went off on your journey to secure some Ibuprofen. 

Exiting the gated community, you biked through the local primary school, passing by a parking lot of sleep-deprived parents rushing to work after dropping off their little ones. It was getting a bit chilly as the wind picked up, so you stopped to put on some mittens and a hat before glancing back at the rustling sound behind the corner. 

“Hello?” 

Again, no one answered. But, that didn’t stop the chills running down your spine, remembering the incident earlier at home. Looking down at your watch, you gasped at the 20 minutes that had already passed, yet, you were nowhere near the grocery store. So, it was time to focus. 

Biking down the empty road, your eyes were scattered across the painted scenery. The old brick houses and the tall trees. The rusted mailboxes and the garden gnomes. It all felt so nostalgic. So close to your heart, as if tethered by the strings of your past. But, the feeling was short-lived. Consumed by the eerie melancholy inching up your skin as you felt someone's presence behind you. 

This time, you weren’t wrong. Covered from head to toe, it looked like a man. Keeping a civil distance, he followed your turns. Left. Right. Straight. Right. Left. Straight. Coincidence or not, this wasn’t a common path that people took. Not many knew of the shortcut. So, you began to speed up, feeling the adrenaline kick in once he did the same. Now, it was a chase. 

Pushing through the burning pain in your calves you picked up the pace, feet firm on the pedals. He didn't pity your fatigue, only fueled it more by inching closer before the two of you were riding side-by-side. Keeping an eye on his uncanny demeanour, you flinched at the sound of a car horn blast through your trembling state as a white Honda glared past you, pointing at the stop sign. 

“I'm sorry,” you whispered under your breath. 

“You're fast,” the man scoffed, tilting his head with a sly grin. That's all you could see. 

“Who are you?” you yelled, voice trembling in panic. 

“I’ll give you a head start, mmhm?” he sneered, changing the gears on his bike. 

Feeling the tightness in your throat, you were gasping for air, dilated pupils scanning the surroundings for help. Unfortunately, as if praying on your downfall, the street was empty. Not a soul in sight. So, you pressed on the pedals, leaving the man in the dust as you prayed that the next turn led to people. 

Gas station. Bingo. 

Hoping off your bike you bolted towards the door. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” the cashier yelled out, furrowed gaze searching the panic on your face. You could feel the flush rise up your cheeks, but the absence of Mr. X occupied your mind. 

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, clearly out of breath before dialling Jimin’s phone number. It was like second nature. You didn’t even realise it until your call went straight to voicemail. 

“Oh, right,” a sigh escaped your lips, remembering that he was still MIA.

Looking through your contacts, there was only one more person you could call. But, the possibility of them actually agreeing to help you was as slim as your waist after all that exercise. Nonetheless, you took a deep breath and pressed the call button. 

“Taehyung?” 

“What do you want, y/n?” he scoffed. 

“Right. So, potentially … if you could … would you mind picking me up from the gas station near River Banks?” you whispered, careful with every word as you anticipated his response. 

“Potentially, screw you. What the fuck did you lose there?” 

“It’s kind of a long story but I do need to be at school in about half an hour,” 

“Can I even say no?”

“Last time I checked it was a free country but a dangerous one at that. So, if I'm kidnapped, my blood is on your hands,” 

“You and that victim mentally of yours go way back, huh?” 

“Please, Taehyung. I’ve never asked you for a favour before,” 

“Fine, give me 10 minutes,” he sighed, ending the call before you could even thank the guy. 

The car ride home was quiet. No radio. Windows rolled up. Silence. 

“So, you’re really not gonna tell me?” Taehyung asked with an arched brow, glancing at your stiff form as the light turned red. 

You’ve never been good at lying. Even if your mouth stayed shut, your face would’ve revealed it all. Essentially, there was no running away from the truth in your case. 

“Well … no one was home and I needed medicine so I decided to bike to the grocery store,” you began explaining, avoiding his eyes. 

“Mmhm,”

“And then …” you paused, hesitating the next part. What if Mr. Kim finds out? What if you were blowing this out of proportion? 

“Y/n. You’re making me angry. Just say it,” he scolded, pressing on the pedal. 

“Sorry. Um, so yeah … I was biking and then out of nowhere this man started following me. So, I tried losing him by taking different turns but … ended up getting lost,” 

“You were followed?” there was a slight change in Taehyung’s voice. Less sarcastic, more intrigued. 

“I guess?” 

“Well, did you see what he looked like?” 

“Not, really. He was covered from head to toe. Except …” you gasped, eyes shut as your brain scavenged through its short-term memory, recalling the moment at the stop sign. 

“Yes?” 

“The side of his mouth was … bruised like he got punched or something?” you leaned back into the seat, fidgeting with your rings while Taehyung merged onto the right lane. He was too focused on the road to hear what you said, but as you glanced at his face your eyes widened, spotting the same purple marks. 

“What?” he growled, furrowed gaze glaring back at your parted lips. 

“Nothing.” you chuckled awkwardly, reaching for the radio before his cold hand touched yours. 

“Look me dead in the eyes and tell me.” he sneered, interlocking his fingers with yours. You’ve known each other for almost a year, yet, your shoulders have never even grazed past each other. So, this was strange, to say the least. 

“Tell you what?” you said hushly, gulping down the nerves as he levelled his face to meet your scattering eyes. 

“That you’re scared,” 

“I’m not,” you scoffed, feeling the flush in your cheeks. 

“Good. Because why the fuck would it be me, you dumbass.” his voice got louder with each word, throwing your hand back before rolling down the windows. Finally. Some fresh air. 

Why would it be him, y/n? You weren’t his favourite but, this was too much. Taehyung was a straightforward person, if he hated you he would say it to your face. So, these mind games were really not his thing. But, then again, what’s up with the bruised lip? 

Fixing your uniform you walked into the brightly lit classroom. First period. Physics. No one was in their seats, let alone bothered by the fact that the teacher was almost 10 minutes late. Placing your books on the desk you looked over at the empty seat beside you. Jimin was still gone. No one has heard from him in weeks. 

Bing Bing

Rampaging through your backpack you searched for your phone. You didn’t have time to properly pack because Taehyung was counting down the minutes before he threatened to drive off, so you just threw everything in hoping to fix it during your free period. Scrolling through the notifications your eyes focused on the text message from an unknown number. 

“I missed you.” you mouthed under your breath.

“Sorry everyone, the meeting took a bit longer,” Mr. Choi chuckled softly, speed-walking into the room before ushering everyone to their seats. 

“I missed you?” you whispered again, eyebrows knitted with confusion. Was it Jimin? Did he change his number? 

“Nonetheless, I am pleased to introduce our new transfer student …” 

You couldn’t recognize the area code, so you tried looking it up on the internet but found nothing useful. Was this some kind of a scam? An innocent prank, maybe? 

“Jeon Jungkook” Mr. Choi’s voice suddenly echoed in your ears making you glance up at the dark-haired boy standing in front of the class. Interestingly, he was already looking at you. Hooded gaze focused on the way your demeanour changed completely. 

“Jungkook, feel free to take any empty seat,” 

Bowing to the man, he did exactly that. Slowly passing by the first three rows before stopping by the seat next to you. Nodding his head, he seemed pleased with the pick. 

“Oh, no sorry, Jungkook-ah, that seat belongs to another student,” Mr. Choi called out with a smile that quickly faded as he watched him sit regardless. 

“There’s plenty of options. I’m sure they’ll find another one,” Jungkook muttered with a sly grin, taking out his books before turning his attention to your widened eyes. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n,” he rasped against your hair, gently tucking it behind your ear to fix the back of your collar. His dark orbs flickered down to your parted lips, sending shivers down your spine.

The first kiss you shared with Jungkook was between your eyes. The way his furrowed gaze softened upon seeing you walk down the wooden stairs of your childhood home, in the lavender dress he bought for your birthday. The way he nervously nibbled on his lip ring before caressing the back of your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. Everything about him was gentle when it came to you. The way his warm embrace moulded into yours, as you grew to share the same breath, the same heartbeat. One singularity in the form of two lovers. 

He filled the void your father left as you failed to please his expectations. The ones only a son could bear. The nights you spent crying in your room, wishing that your mother didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of raising a daughter, Jungkook was there. Like a knight in shining armour, he always saved you. Hoped to give you the future you deserve if you promised to share it with him. The two of you were inseparable. Attached by the hip. 

Until, one day, you weren’t. 

It’s been a week since Jungkook transferred schools. His seat still next to you. Inches away from the past that tethered your souls. You didn’t talk much. Mentally exhausted from the consequences. But, his eyes. They never lied. Sneaking glimpses across the room, watching your every move. He wanted you to give in, to tell him why you left. Help him understand how someone so close could betray his trust, his loyalty, his love. Jungkook didn’t hate you, wouldn’t let anyone get too close, but he was hurt. You could see it in his eyes. The same eyes that onces sparkled under the shimmering lights of the night sky when you shared your first kiss.

Dipping your feet into the pool you wanted to test the water before running through the new drill your coach crafted for the upcoming swim meet. To put it lightly, it was freezing. Goosebumps all over your skin, nipples cut through glass type of freezing. You would think a school with such a budget could afford a heated pool but beggars can’t be choosers. So, you tucked your hair under the swim camp and started on some stretches. 

“One … two … three …” you breathed out, counting the reps before glancing up at the flickering lights. School ended about an hour ago, so the place was pretty empty except for the janitors and a few teachers who stayed back to work on some grading. There was no practice today, but you had a spare key to the pool, so it was just you and the water. 

“Hello?” you called out, covering yourself with the towel. No response. 

“Sorry, this is a closed practice,” you shouted out again, hearing footsteps coming from the changing rooms. 

“Hel-” 

The lights went out. Goosebumps covered your skin, heart beat through the roof. Now what? 

“This isn't funny. Turn the lights back on!”

No one answered, but the footsteps inched closer. You could sense that they were near but it was too dark to make out a figure. Then, he chuckled. Subtle but devious chuckle. Like it was all premeditated. 

“Where is it?” a voice echoed, bouncing off the four walls. It was familiar. 

“Jungkook? Is that you?” you gasped, looking over your shoulder, hands trembling in fear.  

“Where is it, y/n?” his tone was firm. 

“Where's what?” 

“Don't act dumb, love,” he sneered, hands hovering over your waist making you flinch at the sudden feeling. The smell of his vanilla musk lingered in the air as you matched each other’s breathing, skin to skin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered, chest heaving up from the tension. 

“Where’s my baby?” he rasped against your ear pushing your frail body into the water as his hold around your waist tightened. Eyes squeezed shut, you began to kick him off of you. But he was stronger, assertive, more needy. Gasping for air you felt the water seep into your lungs, nails digging into his skin as a warning to bring you back to the surface.  

However, once you were up, he would have more questions. Questions you didn’t have the heart to answer. But, Jungkook deserved to know the truth, even if it hurt. Because, deep down, your father’s abuse wasn’t the only reason you left. 

You didn’t remember much of that night thanks to the five whiskey shots that pulsed through your veins. Intoxicated your system till you became numb. Unaware of the dangers around you and vulnerable to those with bad intentions. Until it was too late. 

“Stop … please …” you whimpered, flinching at the feeling of his tongue on your breast. Parted lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your stomach, wrists red from his tight hold as your arms stayed pinned over your head. But your cries for help were as worthless as the consent he never got. 

Until the door slammed open and Jungkook’s irate gaze saw your lifeless body buried under the weight of another man. No amount of restraint could hold him back. He was flammed with rage. 

“Y/n!” Jungkook growled, pushing the guy onto the floor as blood covered his fist. And, as the four walls caved in, your world fell apart. 

But, you could barely open your eyes, let alone get up. Too ashamed to move anyways and the migraine only made it worse. Searching for your top your heart ached with pain once you saw Jungkook’s hollow orbs swelled with tears as he wiped the blood off his face. He looked defeated, almost as unconscious as the man on the floor. Stepping over the body with one hand on his side he whimpered, biting down the pain in his ribs before covering you with his jacket. 

“We have to go.” he muttered, picking you up bridal style. 

“Koo, we can’t just leave him,” you yelled out, worried gaze searching his pale face. 

“It’s nothing fatal, he’ll be fine,” Jungkook scoffed, feeling the tightness in his throat as he glanced down at your saddened eyes.

Tension consumed the air. It was suffocating. 

“Jungkook, please slow down.” you exclaimed, tightening your hold on the seatbelt. And, although his glare was focused on the road, he couldn’t hear you. Too occupied by the burning pit in his stomach. It didn’t take long until the dashboard flashed warning signals as his speed reached 200 km/h. You were virtually flying. Yet, there was no end to his high. 

Reaching for his cold hand you tried to snap him out of it before the car suddenly stopped. 

“Oh, shit!” Jungkook yelled out, protecting you from the impact, as your body swung forward. 

Eyes squeezed shut, your hands trembled in fear. He hit someone. You hit someone. Fidgeting with your seatbelt you desperately tried to get out and help the crouched man on the ground. He wasn’t bleeding but his skin looked burnt. 

“Y/n!” Jungkook jerked you back, tightening his hold on your arm as he pressed on the pedal. 

“What are you doing? We have to go back!” you yelled with a furrowed gaze. 

“Jungkook!” you threw a few hits at his chest, reaching for the steering wheel as the car swerved along the bumpy road. 

“Enough!”

You couldn’t recognize him. He never raised his voice at you. Barely ever argued. But, now, Jungkook felt so distant. So cold. 

“Fine.” you whispered, digging your nails into your palms. It felt like a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. Stuck in a maze of despair, robbed of peace and the possibility that it was all in your head. That none of it was real. 

But it was. And, it would only get worse. 

Unlocking his front door, Jungkook stepped aside, letting you go first, hesitant with his touch. Furrowed gaze fixated on the ground, his head hung low, heavy with thoughts. Tucking onto the ankle straps of your heels you hissed out of frustration, vision blurring in and out of focus. 

“I can do it myself.” you scoffed, as he bent down to help. You didn’t mean to sound rude but there’s only so much one can endure before the sun sets. It was exhausting. 

“I know you can but let me,” he muttered softly.

And, for a moment there was silence. No words were exchanged. No one knew what to say. Feared that something else would go wrong. But your eyes, they were screaming. 

“Koo?” you whispered, caressing his cheek as he inched closer, burying his face into the warmth of your palm. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Jungkook blurted, gripping your dress. 

You weren’t his first love but you were his first love. And, he promised to always keep you safe, fight for the beating of your heart until the air was stripped away from his lungs. But, he failed. 

“I’m sorry for letting you get hurt” his voice was quiet, shaky. Glossy eyes looking up at your trembling lips. 

“Baby, you saved me.” you exclaimed softly, pulling him into your embrace, feeling the tension in his body slowly dissipate. 

“Nothing happened, right?” he whispered into your skin. 

“Nothing,” you said hushly. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

To be honest, you didn’t remember what happened. Only the scars remained witness, your body painted like a canvas with purple hues of abuse. But, nothing happened, right? 

“How do you know about the baby?” you questioned with an arched brow, trying your best to stay afloat as Jungkook inched closer. 

“Oh, y/n, you always underestimated the power of a small town. News here spreads faster than wildfire.” he grinned, resting his hands on your waist before your back hit the concrete. 

That night, when you layed on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, the puzzle pieces began to come together. Something did happen. Something that didn’t belong to Jungkook. You were raped and on very thin ice with your father who was ready to kick you out of the house if you didn’t oblige his threats. The ones that entailed getting rid of the baby, and clearing up the family name. But, you couldn’t bear to lose someone so close, so innocent. 

So, you didn’t. You hid the pregnancy from everyone. Of course, your mom knew but you didn’t want to risk getting her into trouble with your father, whose behaviour worsened with each fight. Completely unhinged, he couldn’t be stopped.

But, when he slammed you against the kitchen cabinet while you stood in front of your mother’s trembling body you finally felt it. The striking pain in your abdomen that travelled up your pelvis and into your back. The pooling of blood that rolled down your leg, marking your clothes with the loss of your baby. And every day since then, you wondered. Wondered what life would feel like without the constant longing to be whole again. 

“And, hey, thanks for this,” Jungkook teased with a sly wink, parading the dove necklace Mr. Kim gifted you for your graduation. 

“Give it back Jungkook, this isn’t funny.” you snapped, reaching for his hand before his hold on your waist tightened, pulling you in. 

“You stole something from me, now it’s my turn,” he rasped against your ear, nibbling on the soft skin. Inches apart, his heavy gaze flickered down to your lips. 

“Hmm, I haven’t swam in a while but I think I can make the team, right captain?” Jungkook glanced up, searching your furrowed expression. 

Unfortunately, he did make the team. If you couldn’t tell already, he was a crowd favourite. Always managed to get what he wanted, even with minimal effort. Simply put, life just seemed to work out for Jungkook. 

So, when the team went on to win the Nationals your coach decided to splurge and take everyone out for the weekend. Nothing special. Just a trip to the next town over. He rented a bus, but if you had a ride you could just meet everyone there. Sadly, both your mom and Mr. Kim were busy with work and Taehyung closed the door on you when you asked, so that seemed like a hard pass.

“Damn, Mr. Lim couldn't wait till sunrise?” your friend teased as the two of you waited by the school entrance. It was just shy of 7 am, but the sky was grey and foggy. 

“That's what I'm saying. I couldn't even sleep yesterday,” you scoffed, feeling the puffiness around your eyes. Something about the little getaway fueled your nervous system to stay alert the whole night. Was it excitement? Fear?Anxiousness? Only time will tell. 

“It's fine, in about 5 minutes we should already be hitting the road. And, hey, I brought the book you asked for,” she exclaimed, digging through her bag. 

“Nice! Fair warning though, I will be taking my beauty slumber as soon as we get on or else I might just die,” the two of you chuckled before collecting your stuff noticing the bus turn into the school parking lot. 

Heading up the stairs you were welcomed by an older gentleman. 

“Hel-” his words were cut off by the shouting outside. 

“Y/n!” 

“Sorry, could you excuse me for a second?” you giggled awkwardly, turning back to see who was making all that noise.

“Y/n, get in. I'll drive.” Jungkook urged with no hesitation, patting the passenger seat. 

“That's not necessary,” you scoffed, arms crossed over your chest. 

“That wasn't a question.” a sly grin covered his face. 

Parking his Mercedes in front of the bus, you looked back at the old man who was busy checking in the other students to notice Jungkook’s stubborn act. Well, shit. 

“Fine.” you muttered, ushering him to open the trunk.

As promised, you fell asleep almost immediately, suppressing the daunting feeling inside your chest. Jungkook didn’t mind, and kept as quiet as possible, reclining your seat before covering you with his jacket. It was better that the two of you didn’t speak. This gave him the perfect opportunity to look at you without being threatened. 

The drive was supposedly only 4 hours, but the rain lengthened the process. 

“Hhmm?” you flinched from the sound of hail hitting the glass window. 

“Sleep well?” Jungkook whispered, glancing at your drowsy eyes. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, stretching your back. 

“Are you hungry? We will have to stop at a motel, it’s too dangerous to drive.” 

“Alright. Let me just text Yuri then,” you said, unzipping your bag. 

“No need, I already let Mr. Lim know,” he winked, pulling into the parking lot. 

Mother Nature was pissed and decided to take it out on all of us. So, it wasn’t long until the two of you were drenched from head to toe. 

“Quickly, let’s go!” Jungkook exclaimed, grabbing your hand before locking the car. 

The place wasn’t brand new, per se, but it served its purpose. As soon as you walked in, you were welcomed by what could only be described as a parade of taxidermy deer heads mounted onto the wall with a complimentary coffee station by the corner. 

“I'll be right with you!” a female voice echoed from the back room. 

Glancing at the water dripping down your face Jungkook chuckled, pulling you in to wipe the excess with his sleeve. 

“You okay?” he hummed, levelling his head until your eyes met. 

“Cold,” you muttered, nibbling on your lip before turning him back towards the front desk. 

“Right, so sorry for the wait. What can I do for you, dear?” an older woman exclaimed with a soft smile. 

“Oh, no worries at all! We’re just looking for a room for the night,” Jungkook explained, pulling out his wallet. 

“Of course! Are you two a couple by any chance?” she giggled, dimples popping out on both cheeks as your mouth dropped. 

“Oh, n-” you scoffed before his glare pierced through you. 

“Shhh, let her finish, love,” 

“Well, it’s just that Saturdays are usually our couple specials. You get a 30% discount!” she clapped, admiring what you assumed she thought to be the epitome of young love standing in front of her. 

“Lucky us, then,” Jungkook clapped as well, inching your stiff body closer to make it more believable.

“Go us!” you smiled awkwardly, patting his chest before whispering something in his ear. Don’t get too excited. 

Placing a gentle peck on your forehead he grabbed the bags, following the sweet lady towards your room. 

“Alrighty, here it is! If you need anything I’m just a call away.” 

“Thank you!” the two of you said in unison, unlocking the door. 

One bed. 

“So, how is it?” Jungkook asked, laying out his jacket on the cabinet to dry. 

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” a teasing chuckle escaped your parted lips. 

“The rain will stop soon. I doubt we’ll even need the bed,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. 

“What? We wasted all that money for nothing?”  

“Well, first of all, I paid. And, we got a discount, remember?” 

“I'm sorry. I'll pay you back,” your gaze lowered from the sudden guilt, fingers fidgeting with your rings. 

“Are you kidding? I would pay triple to spend more time with you,” his tone was genuine, pupils dilated at your timid state. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered. 

“If only you knew how much I missed it,” he tilted his head back on the wall, nibbling on his lip ring. 

“What?” 

“Hearing you say my name,”

“I thought we hated each other,” you muttered, folding your hands over your chest.

“You did. I just loved the thrill of it,” 

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss it too. In hindsight, your feelings were always suppressed but obvious to the naked eye. To his eyes. However, just because you miss something, doesn’t mean you have to go back. Sometimes, the door is better off closed. Hidden deep in your subconscious mind, buried under a pile of broken promises. 

“I’m going to shower.” you blurted in a hurry, walking past him to avoid the thoughts running through your head. 

The water was cold no matter which way the faucet turned, so you had to be quick unless catching hypothermia was on the list of things Mr. Lim wanted you to experience over this trip. If so, then you were ahead of the game. 

Wrapping yourself with a towel you washed off your makeup, combing your hair with a detangling brush before getting startled by the swinging of the door, hitting your side. 

“Hey! I wasn’t done.” 

“Sorry, it’s cold,” Jungkook whined, welcoming himself in. 

“Did you try putting on a shirt?” you scoffed, eyeing his naked chest before his furrowed gaze caught you red-handed. 

“It’s wet, smartass. And, I didn’t want to put new clothes on before showering.” 

“Well, go stand over there and face the wall,”

“Are you shy?” he teased, leaning on the counter. 

“Well, I’m not comfortable.” you hissed, tightening the fabric around your body. 

“I’ve seen you naked plenty of times, y/n,” Jungkook grinned, eyes squeezed shut as if reminiscing the good old days. 

“You don’t have to remind me. I'll be taking that sin to the grave,” 

But it was too late. Lips inches apart, your chest heaved up from the intensity of his heavy gaze, eyeing your form from top to bottom. Tilting your chin with his fingers, he leaned closer. 

“We can’t,” you blurted, hands hovering over his chest. 

“No?” he glanced at your scattering eyes, pressing your palm against his burning skin. 

“What about Soojin?” 

“What about her?” 

“Seems like you guys were hitting it off pretty well,” you hissed, looking past his glare. 

“Meh … not my type,” Jungkook scoffed, eyes flickering down your lips.

“Oh, really?” 

“Why? Was y/n jealous?” he said with a sly grin, tracing his fingers up your thigh. 

“Soojin, is not your type? Ha! Hard to believe when she was all over you a few days ago.” your tone was low, annoyed at the whole thing. You were jealous. Fine. Whatever. Moving right along. 

“Hmm, is that so? Then what does that say about us? If I leave a trail of kisses down your neck, does that mean you're my type?” he whispered in your ear, pulling your body onto the counter before finding himself between your legs. 

“I'm not your type,” you chuckled, ignoring the obvious tension. 

“I could've been a dad by now and you're questioning if you're my type? Really?” Jungkook teased, resting his forehead on yours.  

“Jungkook, the baby wasn’t yours.” you said firmly, palms holding his face to make sure he was paying attention. 

“But, it was yours. And, what’s yours is mine. Isn’t that right?” he winked, fingers intertwined with yours. Then it happened. The long-awaited kiss. And, although you knew this wasn’t the best of your decisions, you didn’t mind revisiting this door, at least for the time being.

Until that night. The night in the forest. When a locked door was the only thing separating you and Jungkook. 

“Call him. Let's see if he actually cares,” you could see the grin smear across the man’s masked face, as your blood-shot eyes swelled with tears. 

Hands tied behind your back, you watched him press the call button, turning the phone towards you before resting his knife right under your chin. 

“Jungkook!” you cried out with a shaky voice.

Ring Ring 

“Oh, shit, where’s my phone,” Jungkook exclaimed, patting his pockets before reaching for the glove compartment. 

“What the fuck?”

His eyes widened. It was you. Rather, snapshots of you. One’s that he had no recollection of taking. But, they looked strange. As if you also weren’t aware of them being captured. 

Call from 647-568-0349. Call from y/n-ie❤️ 

An automated voice broadcasted through the speaker system set up in his garage.

“Y/n?” Jungkook yelled out, bolting towards the locked door. 

“Jungkook … please …” you whimpered, feeling the tip of the knife poke into your skin as your chest heaved up.   

“What the fuck? Why won’t it open?” Jungkook growled, fidgeting with the knob before banging on the wooden door. But, no one was home. 

“Please … please … pick up.”

Running back into his car, he turned on the engine, scattering eyes looking back at the empty driveway until the garage door began closing on its own. 

And within seconds, he was trapped. No way in or out. But, the engine was still on, running inside the confined space. Gaseous fumes slowly intoxicating the air he was forced to breathe. 

“Fucking hell.” Jungkook coughed, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Please …” you kept trying, hoping to hear his sweet voice on the other line. Completely naive to the carbon monoxide that was now spreading through his lungs. 

“Help!” he cried out, feeling the tightness in his throat. 

“Jungk-” you gasped, widened eyes glaring back at the masked man. 

“Tsk … what a shame.” he sneered, ending the call abruptly before piercing through the phone.

“Oh, angel, it’s okay. We can wait if you wish. Hopefully, his lungs don’t collapse,” he rasped against your hair, cold touch sending shivers down your back as you felt your heart sink.

[artsy-hobbitses]

Are there any facts or headcanons you can share about Megatron?

-Cracks knuckles- By which you mean old man Morgantron, boy do I.

LOVES dogs. Thaddeus/Terminus used to own a mining dog that would help pull carts, a Bernese Mountain named Boudicca which both he and a young Morgan would dote over. While Bouda passed away in his late teens, that childish adoration for dogs hasn't diminished, and has instead been transferred to Old Fella---an old pit bull rescued and initially intended for rehoming by Barricade/Barrin, who eventually couldn't find the heart to give him up. Megs often has Old Fella curled up at his feet while he's catching up on reading in his free time.

Has a surprising sweet tooth. Sugar was a luxury in Morgan's childhood and not something Thaddeus couldn't afford very often on miner pay, and what sweet food was common there were coal miner cakes… which are loved but an acquired taste. His guilty pleasures include Mars Bars which a young!Omar/OP would share with him through the fence that separated them as children, and more poignantly, Brooklyn-style Blackout Cake since it was tradition for Thaddeus to get him a slice of it for his birthday every year until they were shipped off to Messatine.

Within Morgan's personal office in a glass case is an old blood-spattered and battered copy of Umar ibn al-Khattâb: His Life and Times (Volume One). This is the very first book he read outside of what was greenlit/approved for the manual class and was lent to him decades ago by a young Omar, who threw it over the fence they would talk through, for him to catch. It had been confiscated from him during a spotcheck, but he found it years and years later in a HR contraband warehouse and he's kept it guarded ever since. What he doesn't know is that Omar still has the second volume of that book (there are two) kept in the same manner.

Secretly listens in on Omar's increasingly popular book club sessions (Part of an Autobot PR programme after they figured out that Omar had a voice fit for ASMR and people genuinely wanted to hear him read to them) on the radio during nights where he's feeling particularly lonely and melancholy.

Is an excellent fiddler. However, was not allowed to bring his instrument to Messatine and hasn't played since.

Morgan can cook, but is primarily relegated to British pub fare. Makes a mean steak and ale pie, one of his favorite foods. He also serves potential Decepticon recruits slices of coal miner cake he bakes during their first meet/interview (he does not tell them he baked it) to see how they react. If they act like they're too good for the humble bit of joy miners like him partook in, they're out.

Morgan does not have a great sense of direction, because when you're living 80% of your life underground, everything looks the same and you simply follow the neatly delineated cart tracks to your workplace or berth. Tracks above ground ie. roads are. Messy, and very confusing. He gets lost more easily than one might expect.

He has however, a sharper than usual sense of smell, which helped him out a lot as a miner when it came to seeking out fresh air and quickly identifying toxic or flammable gases emitted underground.

He is also in Grimlock/Graeme's team of Sometimes Cannibalism Is Correct. Those guards who beat to death a miner in front of him while he was on Mining Outpost C-12? He found two of them years and years later (he never forgot their voices over the miner's pleas) as a gladiator, killed the one who struck the first blow and ate their heart (they had no hearts to begin with, he surmises, so really, they're not missing anything) while the other watched. This was symbolic of his hatred for them, but also to loosen the remaining guard's lips about Decimus' movements after the incident up to this point, and for sure, it worked.

No longer gets drunk (he assumes his gladiatorial 'upgrades' are part of the reason for this), deeply wishes he still could sometimes.

Morgan forged his own armor pieces as a gladiator, and this is something that has carried on into the present, as he helps forge the armor the inner circle Deceptions wear, which is then programmed by Shockwave (the exception is Starscream/Stefan, who has been using a prototype armored flightsuit made by Senator Shockwave/Sharifuddin from day one). He uses this time as a one on one session to get to know them better.

Still visits the little public library in the Dead End that Omar set up in honor of him every now and then when he needs somewhere quiet to collect his thoughts and slog through paperwork.

Is the asshole who dog-ears books, but in his defense, he'd never seen a book in his community as a child that wasn't banged up to hell and back---what mattered were the contents. The SOLE exception here is the book that OP gave him and was confiscated from him. It's more than a book; it's a gift from his oldest friend.

"You didn't ask, I don't see why it's an issue" gay. Though one can't tell from first glance because Impactor will bring up the time that he booked a male and female stripper for Megs as a 20th birthday surprise/joke, and came back to find both of them engrossed listening to Megs reading his notes for Towards Peace and discussing it between the three of them. Basically, he's Enjolras (cause above all) for everything and everyone except Prime.

If you're an enemy he respects, he'll kill you himself and make it quick. If he hates you, he'll prolong it. If you don't register on his radar/aren't worth the effort, you get Tarn.

Suffers from a mild case of black lung carried over from his mining days, which only becomes more apparent in his 50s, as his healing factor slowly decreases.

[thedeathdeelers]

im still kind of obsessed with the use of colours to represent sunjae and sol.

blue and yellow

two complimentary colours that are directly opposite each other in the colour wheel (considered as harmonious colours)

a colour that represents the sun, warmth, summer- a joyous colour representing positivity and hope: a colour that sol often dresses in, house surrounded by sunflowers, the colour of her umbrella- the colour sunjae probably associates with Sol (as well as her sunny disposition and bright smile). not to mention her name referring to the personification of sun in roman mythology

PLUS WHENEVER SHE GOES BACK IN TIME ITS ALWAYS IN THE SUMMER

and then the other one that represents the sky, water, the cold, winter- and often seen as a colour that portrays sadness and melancholy - a colour and emotion that aptly describes sunjae, especially before sol walks into his life. swimming, his bedroom, his umbrella- heck even the gate to his house. and the fact that he has always had this metaphorical cloud over his head following him around because of his injury and the ticking time-bomb that is his swim career

and whenever he dies it’s in the winter

but when u bring them both together, mix them together, u get a colour that represents life, spring — a colour for new beginnings, regrowth and renewal

which is what we see whenever sol and sunjae get together in any of their timelines, and also when they get engaged

their love symbolises spring and the soft fluttering of cherry blossom petals that comes with it

and honestly maybe that’s why whenever sunjae tried to confess or propose to sol by artificially creating a spring-like mood (ie inhyuk throwing petals during the summer), it never worked out

it wasn’t their time yet, sol wasn’t ready- still too stuck in her own “season”, in her own head and only seeing sunjae as her bias rather than a boy who was desperately in love with her. they still had ways to go until they could meet in the middle for it all to fall into place

[the-slumberparty]

🍂Winds of Autumn Challenge🍂

We're excited to welcome the fall with all of you lovely people!

For this challenge, you will choose a prompt + a theme (or two) and create piece, written or visual. Each creator may submit up to three works.

Good luck!

Prompt

Candle wick🕯️an old flame rekindled 

Pumpkin spice 🎃 a bustling cafe scene 

Hay ride 🌾 a day at the harvest festival 

Chai latte ☕ caught in the cold rain 

Crispy leaves 🍁 walking home alone 

Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise 

Apple cider 🍎 cozy by the fire 

Harvest moon 🌕 night time walks 

Knitted scarves 🧣 picnic in the park 

Fallen acorns 🌳 a cabin getaway 

Theme

Maturity ⏳ as the harvest ripens, so do we. Write about a coming of age or a lesson learned. 

Change ✨ the leaves change and so does the world around us. Write about a change, good or bad. 

Preservation 🫙 in preparation for the coming winter, we try to hold onto the last bit of warmth. Write about letting go, or not wanting to. 

Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace. 

Melancholy ☁️ as the trees shed and the flowers wilt, we feel a sense of loss. Write a tragic tale. 

Abundance 🧺 As the harvest is reaped, we come into abundance. Write a story about excess and luxury. 

Refuge 🏠 as the sun shines less hot, we retreat indoors. Write about seeking refuge. 

Earthiness 🌍 the smell of leaves, footsteps in mud, and the damp air. Write a story with an earthy atmosphere. 

Rules:

This challenge is open to all fandoms and characters.

🍂Dark creations are accepted but we will not accept underage, incest, or bestiality. Please don’t forget to add warnings to your works appropriately.

🍂For written pieces, there are no word count limits, but we do ask that you add a “read more” beyond 500 words.

🍂We hope that creators can create an inclusive work and encourage writers and creators to use appropriate tagging, ie, f!reader, etc..

🍂 For this challenge, we will accept sequels or continuations to previous works. Please be sure to link the original work in your submission.

🍂Be kind to yourself and to others. We are here to support and include each other.

🍂This is an event for the autumn, with a final due date of November 30 for late submissions.

!Tag this blog in your submission so we see it!

[capn-twitchery]

OC smash or pass!!

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

tagged by: @esteemed-excellency & @the-dye-stained-socialite (sorry double tag)

ok grace's turn 🫡 (is it cheating to use the arctic explorer art bc he looks cooler in it? i'm gonna anyway)

name: lieutenant edward grace

age: mid 30s somewhere

gender: just a guy

sexuality: aroace but he doesn't know that

🌨 pros:

will be so niceys to you. and everyone else. you can bring him home to your grandma and she will approve of him bc he is very polite

courteous, chivalrous, wants to help in any way he can. ridiculously eager to please

surprisingly romantic!! but old fashioned about it. hand kisses, love letters, little gifts, that angle. you will be getting pride & prejudice-ass letters if you're with him long enough

flexible, but usually a service top. his letter signoff is "your obedient servant",,,,, you get the picture

that one "i like kissing polar explorers they kiss like they're hungry" post that lives in my head 24/7

fine military carriage the Tits™

❓❓vague mystery class zone

needs to be wined and dined first, sorry, he is shy & too much of a gentleman. but it should be a nice enough date

shy. takes a bit to warm up to people before he stops being a stuffy victorian era stereotype

mutton chops

🌨cons:

he's awkward. he is trying his best but he's still awkward. :( negative persuasive modifier. sorry grace

haunted by the horrors 24/7. nightmares 8. anxietyx10000. melancholy 100. terrible sleep. his ass needs to be in the royal beth. no he won't talk about it tho (he's fine!)

self confidence does not exist. eaten by guilt

people pleaser to the level he entirely forgets about himself

stands like a pigeon (it does mean he wears a corset tho. silver lining!)

[enderwoah]

AUUUGHGHGHGHF Q!PAC AND Q!FOREVER ARE EVERYTHING TO MEEEE

god i love people that have lost everything and they turn to something, literally anything to relieve them of their pain. you know what makes them so special. it's the fact that they started taking the drug for different reasons.

i mean, sure, yeah, obviously it was born from the same inciting incident (ie, richas going missing), but that affected the two of them in completely different contexts. forever was set off by that plus a bunch of newfound presidential stress; pac was set off by that, forever succumbing to the drug, mike still being missing, and generally feeling weak and useless to everyone. forever wanted to stop feeling angry at the world. pac wanted to stop feeling sad for himself. they were given different reasons and they just. they pulled off the way it affects them differently so so SO perfectly.

in forever's moments of lucidity, he was so angry. he was furious. he was hollering with rage and shouting at people and pulling guns on those he trusts the most, kicking and punching and clawing at the air so that his family wouldn't be hurt because he is tired of his family being hurt. he is supposed to be the protector and yet every member of the favela 5 has had just awful awful things happen to them and he is so, so angry at everything for hurting them. and being angry is exhausting, especially when that anger is just pain and sorrow and hurt disguised as something else.

in pac's moments of lucidity, he was just sad. he was broken. he was anguished and in turmoil and despair, and he wasn't as hooked on the drugs and as such. we got to actually hear his thought process behind taking the drug. pac was alone. he lost forever, he lost richas, he lost mike, he lost walter bob; everyone close to him, everyone that he loves was just gone, and he couldn't do a single thing about any of it. he felt useless and so, so lonely and was so filled with this deep-rooted melancholy and. ugh.

it's so impressive to do essentially the same thing with two characters and yet have them act completely different for more than one reason. sure, pac had moments of awareness more often and not as aggressively as forever did because he was on risus for a shorter amount of time, but also because that's just...not how his true self manifested. he wasn't angry- or he was, maybe he was, but that wasn't his primary emotion. he was just sad and lonely. forever was angry and protective. pac was sniffling and curling in on himself in his cage, flinching and breaking out into fully-fledged sobs when cellbit started shouting. forever was shouting right back at him, hallucinating, trying to plunge himself further into denial even as his real self fought tooth and nail to get out so he could protect his family. when forever was released from the risas, he screamed and it was one of pent up fury. when pac was released from the risas, he wept. same drug, two different affects on two different people. it gives it a jarring element of reality that's just. utterly incredible. huge props to all involved.

[thedreadvampy]

Music recs please!!!

Due to the Apple Music Apocalypse earlier this year I lost all my playlists, and my festive playlist was due a refresh anyway, so I'm reaching out to you, beautiful friends, to suggest Seasonal Music.

Guidelines:

Overall vibe

I'm looking for a contemporary (ie largely post-70s unless it's a really good one) festive playlist that does not feel like being trapped on a retail floor. Ideally it would include varied takes on the season, whether that's atheist Christmases, non-holiday winter vibes, non-anglo takes, cynical exhaustion with Christmas, New Year/Hogmanay, etc.

The vibe is mellow, perhaps melancholy in places, and with a focus on winter and what it means/feels like rather than Christmas specifically.

Themes (any or several of...)

Wintery imagery (not necessarily holiday-themed - could be a cold clear night, snow/ice, sharp wind, darkness, bare trees, stars, all that good stuff)

Hope/warmth/togetherness type festive feeling

Looking for warmth/light in the dark/cold (successfully or unsuccessfully)

Historic events from December/January

Oh god Christmas is happening batten down the hatches

It can be Christian but the Christianity it should evoke is old world churches, chorales, incense and the creeping shadow of myrrh-scented death, not like. YAY IT'S OUR BOY JESUS WHAT A LAD. I'm a Quaker but to count as a Seasonal Vibe this shit needs to get High Church.

And yeah ok like general holiday type themes are also good

Genres

Basically anything, although in the interests of not sounding too Retail Water Torture and being an alternative playlist I would steer away from jazz, country and choral music. I generally am into:

New wave and dance pop

Electronic, trance and industrial

Punk (including but not limited to pop punk)

Rap (particularly prog/experimental hiphop, and grime)

Metal (primarily numetal and tech metal)

The heavier end of Weird Alternative Bands

Things that have a driving beat or strong momentum

Not...

Alternative covers of Christmas standards by pop punk/metal/pop/whatever acts. There are a billion of them, I do not want them for this playlist.

Heavy/updated versions of Christmas carols or hymns (the exception is that I wouldn't mind finding a good punk cover of Auld Lang Syne, and I don't mind the more obscure/church-only carols like Angels From the Realms of Glory or the Coventry Carol. Also I have already put Christopher Lee's entire Christmas discography on there.)

'I got dumped on Christmas' pop punk songs. I have recently realised how many of these there are and buddy you're not the Ramones.

Anything mawkishly American (and I swear to Christ if it makes me have even a passing thought of Christmas Shoes I will fling myself off a building what is WRONG with American Christmas it's so gross)

Focused specifically on the trappings of Christmas itself (trees, presents, food, stockings, Santa) unless it has something else to say

Super chipper/upbeat or, on the flip side, pointlessly cynical

For the most part, airy/folksy acoustic stuff does very little for me, but it's not a hard line

Any suggestions gratefully received ❤️

[tentative-wanderer]

Recently read these manga and manhwa with gay relationships:

☀️ The Summer Hikaru Died: liked it lots, wish it were complete. The creepy art style took some getting used to, I didn’t like how unnerving even normal people looked at first but I ended up loving how the art fits its genre. Mystery + horror + a sort of love I like, occupying the twilight zone between platonic, romantic and goodness knows what*. The theme of grief is executed well, very moving, and thumbs up for the other complicated feelings the characters wrestle with. From the Chinese words/kanji, I can tell that the title is “The Summer the Light Died”, which makes me go ahhhhh. I’d like to have the reassurance that there will be a happy ending, because I feel like there could be a melancholy one.

* I like amorphous kinds of love. Qijiu from the danmei book SVSSS has that too (don’t look this pair up if you haven’t read SVSSS, it’s spoilery). The phrase that comes to mind is 犹抱琵琶半遮面, ie, (a musician) “covering half their face with the pipa in their arms”. The beauty of things only semi-revealed.

🎥 Twilight Out of Focus and its sister series: enjoyed them. My favourite character is the film director with semi-long hair who’s capable, strong-willed, outspoken, and competitive, tempered by a softer side (the thing he’s loud and passionate about besides filmmaking is BL, of all things. But I didn’t know he swung that way until he got his own manga series. Should have seen that coming). That tends to be a winning combination of physical and personality attributes in my book, I always fall for this type of character, but I’d be on edge if I had to deal with such people in real life because their cut-throat attitude would be, well, cutting.

🧼 Ten Count: can relate to the mysophobia. Interesting premise! Enjoyed it. But I feel like it was dragged down a little by the smut. I have mixed feelings about saying that, because on one hand, smut is always welcome, but on the other hand, I wish there was a greater focus on the process of overcoming the ten mysophobic points beyond the romance and smut. Another downside is pretty-boy same-face syndrome.

🪞 The Black Mirror: there are a number of imperfections but I was hooked because I like mystery.

If anyone has recommendations, I’m all ears! BL manga is new to me (previously, I think I’ve only read the comedy about the guy who realised he’s stuck in a BL world, haha).

***

(Not BL)

Read a number of chapters of Liar Game. I don’t know why the author is drawing manga instead of messing with the stock market or committing fraud or financial world domination. Big-brained stuff. I tend to read comics fast/skim-read so I found it challenging to think deeply about the strategies; even following along is tough. (Edited to add: the ending was really, really bad.)

Caught up with the more recent chapters of Spy x Family and Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan. Loved both. Regarding Spy x Family, I thought I couldn’t love it more but it turns out I could; the recent arc about the old female soldier is wonderful, overturns some gender norms to an extent hardly seen in media. Also, I really like Yuri and Fiona; they’re both capable, good-looking, and—importantly—very funny. Fiona is amazing in the anime, her voice actress adds a special spark of life to the duality of her character.

[sgiandubh]

Fans subscribed to FMN gin's mailing list receive 'news coming soon' messages. It looks like T is excited to get into the drinks business too...

Dear Mailing List Anon,

I would be quite surprised, even having seen this:

There has consistently been 0 movement in both (UK and IE) companies (and even in the third, IE, company - IYKYK) for at least a year, now. But hey, if the ad says so, amen.

Hell, I even saw this, haven't I?

I have thoughts and questions. Let's unpack:

'We hope you didn't forget about us.' - oh, wait: Forget Me Not -> forget about us. Wow. Seriously? A bit underwhelming. On which planet is a cheap, mild pun classy?

'to find more about our long awaited batch'. Ok, folks. Zero corporate social media engagement since at least December 2020:

30k views and 6 comments in three years and a half is what I would call miserable social media traction. Zero client service: even those hopeful six comments were never answered. It would have taken ten minutes tops to do so!

So, long awaited by who? C's Stans? Orgasmically, if I dare say so. C's fans? Perhaps, but since few people got a chance to sample it, a friendly, but classy nudge was in order - not a 'Dear Jane Doe' email : she is not that famous (yet). Outside the OL bubble? I don't want to sound mean, but I'd be damned if I know why someone would use 'long awaited' for some vanity project by a lesser-known actress.

'In the meantime, why not get reacquainted with our founder (...)'. Cognitive dissonance alert: either the product was long awaited for, by a crowd that knows reasonably well enough about the founder, the projects, the socials (unused since December 2020 - reminds me of that forlorn 🎄). Or you'd have to get reacquainted to all this stuff - I mean, how more obviously can that copywriter sabotage the brand & its creator in two lines and 30 seconds?

How long is that 'meanwhile'? Pics were taken in the spring of 2023 (remember Dr. Eustace? LOL for days) and she looks completely disinterested. That picture could be literally anything: a magazine spread, a tell-all memoir cover, a pic taken at a party. How is this aligned with whatever the brand identity is - mystery. I know it wants to be classy and mysterious, but the color palette immediately made me think of...

[Aaron Shikler - JFK's official Presidential Portrait, 1971,The White House - poignant and soulful, but this is my beloved JFK, not a classy 40-something successful woman]

Why? Gin is fresh and festive and fun and oh, so easy. Why choose a melancholy, emotive color trope is just beyond me.

C is a woman of strength. I miss that woman. I want to see that woman blossom and confidently sell her shtick. Instead, I am shown a confusing, blurry Greta Garbo-esque silhouette.

Last, but not least: you take the time to send all those mails suggesting a 'pre-sale op', you should at least update your socials, because you expect clicks, isn't it? Why sending it at all, if you mean to come back in six hours or more, with an update? That information should have been simultaneously made available on FMN's website and on ALL the socials - all those people who clicked on your links are potential clients, after all.

Right now:

Nothing. Lord give me strength.

My take on it? A second limited batch, with lackadaisical availability, zero client relations and a much belated explanation for the use of profits to charity.

[leiththebard]

been relistening to WoK and its got me thinking..

what if kals family traveled to kharbranth together like Lirin mentioned considering in WoK Ch 37?

no tien death, no kal soldiering, no bridge crew, but a happy family.

kal learning surgery there, and once we get back to regular canon timeline he is a liscencdd surgeon who wants to help the mentally ill. after looking into it he slowly understands what is wrong with the devotary of mercy and begins doing therapy. maybe legal fight with the hospital/ardentia to trigger him swearing an oath? cause in this au he swears an oath to be a edgedancer. he wants to look out for those disenfranchised by society, like help the mentally ill or permanently disabled.

He has a lot of motivation in the flashbacks for wanting to help those hurt by superiors bc of Roshone and his melancholy (depression) helping the mentally ill is definitely people who have been forgotten ie 2nd ideal) not exactly sure when he would swear the first idea but maybe he mutters it while in surgery trying to save a life which allows him to use regrowth, saving that life and then many others.

He also gets abrasion which allows him to zoom places which isn't windrunning but is zoomie movement.

Then i feel Kal would discover taravangian's bleeding of people for death rattles. He obviously being horrified by that swears the 3rd ideal to listen to those being ignored, because OBVIOUSLY these folks are ignored!! The coppermind literally says the patients are "the terminally ill, the lowly, and the forgotten" and dismantles the system in kharbranth (maybe locking up Joshor and giving him to Dalinar if this occurs in OB because i dont think this Kal would kill if its not absolutely necessary)

mostly i want kal to be happy and tien to have lived and been a silly lightweaver with his truthwatcher brother and them sharing the surge of illumination is just so awesome

obviously theres gaps in this au (what happens to bridge four, who saves dalinar, etc, and anyone that has ideas i invite to add onto this, but mostly this has been rotting in my brain the past couple days

[okkos-ferrum]

Chat .. I'm thinking abt gray Carmen Sandiego again and I want to die like how gray died in the finale episode lol

ANYWAY HERES THREE WAYS ON HOW I WOULD REWRITE GRAY'S WRITING IN THE STORY

Okay so if you don't know I'm a bit critical on the handling of gray cuz there is sm potential and some decent execution in the series, as with Carmen sandiego's writing in general which fumbled hard in the end

Anyway I decided to think of three rewrites that would do better with writing gray's arc, starting from a total refresh from the start of the series to whatever was left in the final season

Season 1: why write character when u can slap on amensia instead

So if I were in charge of writing gray with what was set up in pilot and where his arc would go ... I might ditch the amnesia all together. Amnesia is already quite the narrative and character weight, and to give it to such a conflicted character like gray only adds to how much of a mess he is (love him tho). Gray starts in the first episode complex enough, even more so than the other characters I'd argue:

He's a character working for vile and clearly disregards any sort of moral compass, making him so clearly opposed to Carmen. But due to their past bond, he simply can't pursue his own self interest like he normally would, hesitating and stalling his decision by allowing Carmen to speak her side. It's quickly shown and immediately makes him compelling.

But then a cartoon anvil drops on his head and just gives him amnesia, rendering his screen time for the next three seasons basically replaced with a different character

u can read more here if u want:

So solution? Ditch the amnesia plot and just pursue what makes him interesting. Keep him conflicted by acting as a sorta regular vile operative like tigress, but have him gradually throughout his appearances having a change of heart

... No not in morals lol, but in his final conviction in hurting carmen. which was his "redeeming moment" in season 4, where he prioritized Carmen over himself and refused to hurt her himself and then later, not stand by to see her get hurt.

They can be more lighthearted capers like in early seasons where team red and gray have to personally work together, both very reluctant. In this time, Carmen can feel some melancholy and nostalgia for their previous, uncomplicated relationship while gray may start to have doubts in his loyalty.

That way u don't rob gray of his agency throughout while still hitting the main emotional beats. He will only be betraying vile likely on the end for his selfish reason to help Carmen over his allkes, solidifying his gray morality

Season 3: Why is there a season long Halloween special in my Carmen Sandiego show?

This is going to painfully unlikely, but it is a quick fix all things considered.

Season 3 to me is the biggest detriment to the show overall, wasting time as well as introducing unnecessary plot lines (Julia and chase breaking up for a bit, it was maybe needed but not at all well executed), all the while forgetting other plot threads (Carmen's search for her mom and her betrayal of acme, vile supposedly getting even more against Carmen)

But it seems it was meant to be some harmless Halloween special to entertain fans ... All the while putting some plot details that can't be skipped over ... (ie Julia and chase split)

Anyway let's say we're approaching season 3, and it's meant to be all spooky and stuff. We've already written two seasons of graham stuff so now what? Well just make the side plot of s3 abt gray recovering his memories, essentially moving his plot in the first half of s4 back to s3

There is some horror in gray's situation at the start of s4, so maybe it can run parallel to the general Halloween vibes of the arc, but where carmen's arc is more light hearted spookiness, gray's can work as a serious plot beat in between (also gives vile more to than just sitting around in costumes)

Change the s3 finale to be more like the Himalayan episode, where somehow Carmen is confronting gray, however brief, and gray reaffirms his alliegence back to vile. That way s4 has gray concretely back at vile, reducing how back-to-back his switch ups are in s4

Not elegant but can keep interest in s3 afloat (at least for me)

Season 4: welp we're out of time ...

Okay now we're in too deep. We've written it where gray has to both regain his memories (can't have him be an amnesiac forever lol) and then return to vile to affirm his moral "grayness" but ALSO ALSO redeem himself by snitching vile to acme ... All in a shortened season

Oops ...

Truthfully it's such little screentime left idk what they really had left if they wanna maintain gray's allegiance to both vile and carmen

So ditch it! Instead of having it during the Himalaya confrontation end with gray choosing vile, have him choose team red

Have it where during the reunion between the two and their ensuing conversation, gray expresses way more reluctance in his choice (and def not piss Carmen off by unintentionally undermining her lol) so Carmen won't immediately choose to blow up the building. Have her instead acknowledge gray's choice to remain in vile but offer him a card or something with contact info, something like that. Gray takes it and without it being said, it's clear he is taking her side

the two taking cover as Carmen explodes the building. But before Maelstrom can appear, Carmen takes her leave, leaving gray behind to seem like he chose vile.

Gray will hide the note and play along, essentially being the mole in vile for team red. This way, when Carmen gets kidnapped, gray can immediately give team red the intel, making sure team red doesn't get reduced to this like confused wreck that they are in the actual show.

It also avoids gray getting involved with acme again, and since I think Carmen took acme's files or something at the end of s2, they can have ivy, as the tech girl, make the memory device herself. It helps give way more agency to Zach, ivy, player, and shadowsan since now they know in advance what happened to Carmen, making them way more proactive.

Change the finale from there but I think it better balances out gray as well as the other characters

concluding time

Okay so it's easy for me to say all this now in retrospect (and maybe I'm misremembering details...) but yeah I just felt like there were many ways this show, with it's limited time, could've been more sensible in its choices rather than wasting them. If the writing for even one character was tighter, I feel like a lot of other plot beats would've fit in better too

Or I'm just overly fixated on gray who knows lol also im too lazy to revise sorry if this is just garble

[jessaerys]

five hyperspecific near headcanons?

(THIS IS SO LONG SORRY. YOU KNOW WHAT I AM!!!!)

gonna take headcanons here to mean “stuff that is entirely not canon” so these are (varying levels of unfounded) personal canonverse facts i’ve come up with as i write him: 

i.

has special interest in space / cosmology / astrophysics / astrobiology / space exploration etc etc etc. (extremely self indulgent of me but i love to have fun) it used to be very all-consuming when he was little and not afraid to want things. 

it was eventually demoted to the backseat as his focus shifted towards his studies so by the time we meet him in canon it has been fully repressed into something he considers childish (though i’d like to think he found an excuse [perhaps through a case] to keep correspondence going with the brightest minds at the SETI institute and they have ocassional videocalls where he pokes holes in their theories on the origins of life he insists it is simply mantaining connections that may one day prove relevant. it is a productive use of my time agent gevanni do not question my methodology) 

when i think of near i think of saint-exupéry’s the little prince and his watercolor illustrations of a little boy on a little round planet -- actually, a lil exerpt:

near is very little-prince coded in his curiosity and love for humanity and golden heartedness and deep mysterious melancholy – he is sad and he doesn’t know he is sad!! to be a cosmonaut is to be an observer, unmoored from the world, not quite of this earth. which actually leads me to,

ii.

he is from nowhere/belongs to no-one/ has no past and no land to return to.

he was in a couple different orphanages since he was a newborn and any paperwork he could’ve had got lost in the shuffle: it was roger who named him nate river just to have something on the records; his oldest memories are from wammy’s, the first person he ever loved was L, there’s never been anything else for him.

i know “has no racial identity” seems like a cop-out but i actually find it interesting to set him up so that he is unlinked from such a basic experience of community in modern society. because of his albinism there isn’t even a melanin scale to point him in the right direction; his looks are very racially ambiguous (ie. 3a/3b curls, very slight/partial double eyelids, etc), his parents untraceable. if he ever took a dna test it would confirm a thoroughly mixed background of many different ethnicities due to european immigration – but he has never taken a dna test because it would mean he cares which means he would have to think about what other people have and he doesn’t which would mean mourning a loss. and there is no use having feelings about that which he cannot change; no use looking back. mello looks back, and look where that's landed him--

(tangent: in contrast mello’s troubled background in the wartorn balkans until he was relatively older (5-6) and his reconnection with his birthplace in croatia after he left wammy’s is a crucial and defining pillar of his identity (personal canonverse courtesy of local mello phd haver @firebuggg) so this is yet another contrast between them. but we do not have time to get into that)

(tangent number 2:

L to mello in private: why does it matter? the war is behind you. looking back slows you down

L to near also in private: how can a detective know anything if he doesn’t first know himself?

near and mello ages 5 and 7, in their minds: i am the only one who understands L)

actually near's john silver slay is thee most important characterization touchstone for me tbh whenever people give him a backstory it just weirds me the fuck out

what do you mean he remembers his mother that would mean being An Individual and Not A Child Soldier !!!! he is wammy's perfect little grooming blank slate thank you very much

iii.

as a baby he was SO cute SO round SO feral. beautiful glowing cherubic marmalade-eyed biting screaming wildchild. wary as a cat with a talent for finding hiding spots inside the walls and so very autistic. an enfant terrible!! this is possibly why he moved through so many foster homes before wammys. 

for a couple of years until age, like, 5, the only people he felt comfortable enough around to speak to in coherent words were L and later mello* 

his method of communication with the rest of the teachers / caregivers / other children was opening his mouth and unleashing the most terrible banshee shriek a 3-4-5 year old could unleash upon god's green earth

through the rest of their childhood known annoyingest older brother on earth mihael "mello" kheel was ocassionally able to figure out how to unlock a Near Nuclear Meltdown, though it was a very rare occurrence as soon enough near graduated to going stiff and heavy on the floor wherever they tried to make him do something he did not want to do. and good luck getting him to move without lifting him corpse deadweight style. garden. hallway. classroom floor. middle of the stairs. he is and has always been a willful little thing !!!!!!!!!

i'm protected under the awning of this readmore so this is My City Now here are some exerpts courtesy of @firebuggg and yours truly

(sequential)

(not sequential)

*(unfortunately, this meant he was accidentally straight up accidentally twilightzoning mello for at least two years after being introduced to each other because what mello kept hearing was [functionally mute kid who usurped your number one spot, exclusively when nobody is around to hear it]: No One Will Ever Believe You) 

iv.

this one’s kind of stupid but i think it’d be funny if wammy’s DOES adopt kids out occasionally possibly from the bottom half of the L successor ranking in order to keep the facade of being an orphanage and not an unethical human child experiment (perhaps to wealthy people who want to skip the bureaucracy of going through the proper channels. you know how it is) (it also makes such a good boogeyman: if you don't get in the bath roger will give you out for adoption !!!!!!)

anyway once feral baby near escaped containment when there were prospective parents over browsing the (available) children and a couple was completely charmed with him and they, as is the fashion of wealthy people to do whatever the fuck they want, took him out for a lovely walk/car ride/park visit/ice-cream sundae, all sunny and warm and sitting on the young woman’s lap, getting loved on, hearing, “would you like to come live with us little one?” 

when they bring near back they are informed that unfortunately near is very much NOT up for adoption (someone definitely gets fired over that one) (dfsddfsdjfdfj)

this gets LEGENDARILY joked about by mello and matt and their popular kids entourage until they leave wammys. this definitely did not give near any complexes whatsoever

anyway once when the three of them are adults it comes up when they’re in the middle of joking around and it triggers yet another round of relentless Unadoptable Near teasing until matt and mello drive the joke right into the ground where it wheezes a last breath into an increasingly awkward silence as they Realize,

v.

ok lighting round:

had L survived as near grew into his teens they WOULD have had an EXTREMELY contentious mother-daughter relationship

much like mello he too has a deep well of unaddressed (repressed) rage within him (like sam winchester. sorry for bringing supernatural into this)

people often write that near only eats bland/white(?) foods but i think being vegan suits him also it's funny as hell. not out of any ideological motivation he was just an extremely picky eater and also do you think that frail body could handle meat. if he could get away with it all he would it is raw fruits and vegetables (chopped into small cubes)(note: this is not bland, just insane)(it’s the scampering rabbit in him) 

extremely at risk of developing a smoking habit. that boy can fit so much tension in his little body do you think his developing teenage brain would not immediately latch onto the treacherous instant clarity and peace of nicotine

5. did i mention repression. did i mention the absolute terror that seizes him at the thought of experiencing desire/hunger/longing/want. if you made it this far have a reward:

[sherbertilluminated]

Of all the titles in Songs for Pierre Chuvin, "Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons" is the most strikingly melancholy. It's not just that Darnielle's voice sounds muted and plaintive, that the chorus is one request, over and over again:

Restore the temple of Isis at Memphis

It's not even that the singer wants something so simple. It's that he wants something that the listeners believe is good.

The title of this one is a reference to Chapter 8 of A Chronicle of the Last Pagans, where a Christian mob destroys a number of statues honoring Egyptian deities, breaking off their limbs and shouting "their gods do not have surgeons." Which is conspicuously wrong in the song, because one of the most famous stories to survive from Egyptian religion is one where a deity performs a reconstructive operation.

I doubt my USAmerican upbringing offered me a nuanced look at ancient Egyptian religious belief, but even as a child I was familiar with the story of how the god Set dismembered his brother Osiris, and how his sister/wife Isis (almost) put him back together to conceive a son. This myth is present in the lyrics of Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons—the Christians are compared to "beasts" with "pawprints" in a way that matches Set's quasi-canine depictions and I'm pretty sure the line "return the peace you took from me" is a homophone/pun on the missing "piece" of Osiris' body which prevented his complete resurrection—and relevant to its rhetorical situation.

The "they" and the "you" of the song are Christians of the (reunited?) Roman Empire in Egypt, people familiar with Jesus' comparison of his own body to the temple in Jerusalem and his assertion that it will be destroyed and reconstructed. When Darnielle sings "you who come demanding proof/let your God rebuild this roof," it's especially poignant because's he's arguing that if only the singer were offered a chance, ie if only he were allowed to worship the surgeon-goddess Isis in her temple, he could demonstrate that Christianity is not the only religious tradition to believe in a resurrection.

The reason for the pathos of the chorus becomes clear at the end of the second verse, with the request "show us the goodwill you were shown/or leave us alone." The poignancy of that plea comes from the recognition that if the people oppressing you would only listen to you, they would realize you love similar stories, that they won't listen to you, that religion will not prevent people with imperial support from acting imperialistically, and that you're desperate enough to ask anyway.

The other tracks on Songs for Pierre Chuvin showcase a range of reactions to the Christianization of the Roman Empire, from violent resistance in "Aulon Raid" to syncretism and covert hope in "Exegetic Chains." But "Their Gods Do Not Have Surgeons" is special to me for the raw pain it depicts and the way it frames that pain as a product of hypocrisy and religious myopia.