#ink as a form of destruction is just cool ok

[spiria]

and if i made a hazbin hotel oc. what then.

[chemicalforgery]

The Birth of the Twin Deities - Sev & Lev

Notes: I'm finally back with some content. I've been working on a new wip lately. This story takes place in the universe of that wip but focuses on a particular story about the deities of the world. Hope you enjoy it ^^

TW: vague description of body horror for a few sentences

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

Sadall was hit with a deep urge to sleep as soon as she woke up. To others, this may seem worrying. Maybe they will go to a doctor to get it checked out. But for the god of fate and prophecies, this was just another day doing her job.

Shuffling around in her bed to find a new comfortable position, Sadall fell once again into a deep slumber. She didn't expect to see any interesting prophecies. Just simple, mundane ones she will pass onto her priests.

In her dream, Sadall was standing somewhere on the ground. The land was black and barren and the sky was a bright shade of orange-red. Everything looked right out of anyone's worst nightmare. This couldn't be a prophecy of the future!

"It is." A raspy voice said from behind her. When she turned around, she saw the tall form of Kovreb, the god of sun and moon. Their face, despite lacking facial features, was staring right at Sadall. They looked angry.

"How? Why?" Sadall questioned the deity before her. They knew more than she did in this situation. But Kovreb didn't say anything. They just stared right ahead, hands crossed behind their back. Sadall was getting impatient. "Kovreb, this isn't a game, this is a serious matter. If you won't help me, I'll go find someone else who will!"

"Everyone else is dead." Kovreb said nonchalantly. Sadall was speechless. 'So this really is an end of the world scenario' she thought to herself.

Kovreb continued talking. "My friends, my family, all the other deities, they forgot about me thousands of years ago. It's easy to forget someone stranded in the skies." They stopped for a few seconds and lifted the palms of their hands towards Sadall. "So I punished them by taking away their precious sun and moon." Their hands were covered in blood. Where the eye that represented the sun and the one that represented the moon used to be now was just a bleeding wound.

"You did all these because you were lonely?" Sadall whispered. She was confused. This was a very unlike Kovreb thing to do.

They chuckled. "You'll be surprised to see what loneliness can make of a person."

"You're not a person, you're a deity.

"This is the kind of flawed logic that caused all this!" They yelled, waving their hands at the crumbling world around them.

Before Sadall could say anything else, she woke up. She quickly got out her bed and pulled the long curtains from the window closest to her. Outside, the world was normal. No withering grounds. No orange red sky. She sighed in relief.

"Just a bad dream." She wanted to say, only she knew she didn't have normal dreams like the rest of the world had. For fucks sake, she was the god of prophecies! As terrifying as it may have been, what she just saw was the future. Or at least a possible future.

Look, Sadall wasn't generally one to mess with fate. If she started preventing all the little bad things that could happen, this could lead to terrible unpredictable stuff. But the possible destruction of the world by a fellow deity was a situation where normal rules didn't apply.

Sadall spent the next few days trying to figure out a solution. She couldn't just go and tell the other deities about the prophecy. They were unpredictable when it came to prophecies. She also couldn't just go and tell them to keep checking on Kovreb, that would raise suspicions. No, she needed a safe yet permanent solution.

She needed another deity stranded in the skies.

Ok, maybe it wasn't the best plan in the world. But it was foolproof! At least that's what she hoped…

After more days of considering what deity could logically be stranded in the skies, the night sky gave her the answer - the stars. There was no god of stars, Kovreb also taking care of them. It would make sense to create a new deity to help them.

Sadall grabbed a fresh piece of parchment paper, some white thread and a dragon bone sewing needle. Then she exited her chambers into a small garden. It was night outside - perfect for her plans. She carefully scooped a star from the black sky and gently laid it in the middle of the parchment paper. She then took the white thread and the bone needle and sewed the corners of the paper together to make a little bag. While softly chanting old prayers about the creation of the world, she stabbed the star through the parchment paper bag.

"Fate, you who control everything and all, allow me to fix the mistakes that we will make and change the future. Fate, you mighty power above us all, give life to the deity who will help us."

A blinding blue light surrounded the creation in Sadall's hands. She slowly put it on the ground and let the new deity be born. Only it wasn't one deity that emerged from the light - it was two. Two twin deities, one with stars caught in his hair and one with ink staining his fingertips.

To say she was surprised was an understatement. But fate worked in mysterious ways. "Sev, god of stars, and Lev, god of legends and stories, welcome to the world!" Sadall said with a smile.

-----

"So, let me get this straight." Kovreb said, one eye facing Sev and one facing Sadall. "Out of nowhere, you decided I need help with my job, a job I've been doing since the birth of the world. So you created a brand new deity? Without telling anyone else?"

"Technically two deities." Sev chimed in.

"Right, kiddo! Two deities! Sadall, I cannot understand your reasoning."

"Can't a deity help another deity just because?" She was trying to play it cool but miserably failing. Sadall didn't expect she would be questioned.

"Not without something in return."

"Kovreb-"

"Sev, can you go check on the stars? They seem to be very curious about you. Won't stop bothering me with questions"

"Sure thing, boss!" He said before leaving the older deities alone.

"Sadall, speak!"

"I just thought you may get lonely here and I wanted to help. Plus I can already see you like Sev!"

"I am a deity, not a person. Feelings like loneliness don't affect me."

"You can be a deity and a person." Sadall said, reminiscent of the Kovreb from her dream. "Now! Enough talking! Go train your new student! I gotta go to sleep."

[words-writ-in-starlight]

the untamed is on netflix, right? i think i've seen it. i'm enjoying your posts about it and my mom would love if i watched a chinese show (it looks chinese, i might be wrong though) but i'm kinda short on time so please pitch to me why i should watch it so i will be convinced and look past the lack fo time

Anonymous asked:

ok the untamed looks cool af how doesone watch it 

A L L R I G H T I’m finally going to make a rec post, I’ve put this off long enough.  You’ve definitely already started to watch it, clever, so please forgive me for using this as an excuse to pitch this show.

So, for starters, Anon, The Untamed is indeed on Netflix!  It is in Chinese!  If you (like me) do not understand Mandarin Chinese, the Netflix English subbing is…fine, it’s fine, but I recommend poking around in the fandom because every single form of address is changed to the character’s full name.  And maybe I just spent too much time doing translations for my old Spanish and Chinese and especially Latin classes, but I think there are some things that, A, shouldn’t be translated or, B, should be translated awkwardly over being translated incoherently.  

I digress.  My thoughts about maintaining forms of address in their native language for the sake of clarifying levels of respect/etc are not relevant here.  Chuck a note in my inbox if/when you get confused about everyone’s three names and I’ll write/link you a guide.

POINT IS.  The Untamed is an adaptation of the novel Mo Dao Zu Shi, which is generally translated as “The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation,” and my quick pitch for it is: There’s a plot, sure sure, it’s the story of Wei Wuxian (his fall from grace to Most Hated Person In Magic!China, and then his resurrection and efforts to solve a murder), and if you like character-driven fantasy narratives you Will Like This

B U T

You know that post “but is he…you know…your narrative foil?”  That’s this show.  If what you crave is “one character committedly pines over another for twenty years even when the entire world hates that person,” please let me interest you in Lan Wangji, the love interest.  They have a kid together.  It’s a great romance.  Literally what else do you want from me.  I love a narrative foil, I love a tragedy, I love an epic love story, I love a found family.  And good GOD do I love a character who self-destructs in an effort to do the right thing.

Wei Wuxian isn’t evil.  He’s not even especially malicious.  But when the chips were down and he needed to survive, and to save people, and to figure something out, he took the only avenue left to him, and it was—it was inevitable, really, that it make him the villain of the piece.  He saved a lot of lives.  Everyone except Lan Wangji hates him for it.  He’s already thoroughly despised by the time he starts actually doing things that are objectively bad.  Talk to me about it forever.

My usual list of free-form associative Things I Like That You Will Probably Also Like under the cut:

Wei Wuxian!  I know he’s the main character but I love him so much that he gets a bullet point!  He’s the kind of lighthearted goofball who’s perfected the “I Would Honestly Die Before Showing Emotion To Anyone, How Dare You Imply That I Am Not Sincere In My Perpetual Good Humor” mask, and it hits like a sledgehammer when that mask cracks.  I would watch this actor flip between smiles and homicidal rage all day.  He gets a hug from Son Boy in the last episode and I almost cried.  50000/10.

Lan Wangji!  A great love interest!  Noble to the core!  Incredibly bitchy!  I want five more just like him!

This is where I mention that China has strict censorship laws, so, despite the fact that they kiss and have sex and get married and the whole nine in the book, the show is all Intense Staring And Love Declarations Where They Never Say The L-Word.  But like.  Please trust me, it’s actually So Romance.  If anything I think I like the  romance in the show better.

Wen Ning!

I don’t have anything else to say about him, I just love him so goddamn much.  He and his sister Wen Qing are stars and the rest of these sinners don’t deserve them.

COMPETENT. VILLAINS.  I’ve spilled a lot of ink on this one lately, but I love competent villainy, I love villains who have Goals and plan to Achieve Them and actually pull it off.  Jin Guangyao, the big bad of the “present”(the part where Wei Wuxian is resurrected and kicking around trying to solve a murder), is actually phenomenally good at his job and I support him even though I enjoyed watching him go down in flames.  There are enough villains in this show for everyone to have their preferred type of villain, from Devoted Right Hand Man to Megalomaniacal Overlord to Freewheeling Engine Of Death.  GREAT villains in this show.  Which brings me to…

YI! CITY! ARC!  I’m not going to tell you that much about it, but it’s dark and tragic and features my very favorite villain in the entire show, Xue Yang, who is just.  *chef kiss*  A horrible monster of a man.  An unapologetic, cold-eyed shriek of a villain.  The very best at what he does, and what he does is absolutely horrible, and I would watch an entire series about this five-ish episode arc.  Also, I’ve adopted Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen from the Tragic Ships Shelter and someone should toss me a headcanon ask for them.  Any AU your little heart desires.  I love them.

THE MAGIC!  I know it took me a long time to get here, but it’s a very character driven show and I am a very character driven person and I just wanted to yell about characters for a minute.  But anyway, I’m told that the Untamed is a great onboarding point for this genre of Chinese fantasy novel, because they do a really good job of making the necessary points accessible.  I had no familiarity with wuxia/xianxia/etc when I started watching this and everything about cultivation made sense to me, or at least enough sense to be going on with.  It’s very lovely and fascinating and it’s where they put their Entire Non-Clothing Budget.

This is where I mention that their effects department clearly used their entire funding for, like, cool sword stunts and beautiful clothing.  The wolf puppet in particular is just.  Almost adorably terrible.  If that’s going to severely impact your enjoyment, Idk what to tell you, man.

Related to the above, I love plotlines about characters losing control of their magic.  That’s all I’m going to say about it.

Unreliable narrators, baby! They set up a lot of concrete facts about Wei Wuxian in the first two episodes that become obvious as complete bullshit as you go on, and it’s very satisfying to watch!  See also, Nie Huaisang, the most unreliable narrator of them all, whom I adore.

Beyond all those things…it’s just got a lot of great relationships in it.  It’s hugely driven by the affection people have for each other, or the places they feel they’vebeen deprived of that affection.  It has a lot of iterations of the same relationship in wildly distinct ways, if that makes sense—offhand, there are maybe four major sets of siblings, five if you count the Jins, and they are all radically different and insanely compelling.  The basic structure of Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji, the “black cultivator/white cultivator on a crusade to change the world” thing, appears a lot of times, and goes horribly awry in a slightly different way for all of them.  That kind of in-universe repetition of themes, doing the same thing over and over again looking for the Right Path, is one of my favorite things to appear in a story—see also, the Kencyrath (twins, Dreamweavers, Knorth lords, loyal Kendar, etc), the Animorphs (warrior teams, deaths on the field, etc), any number of other things I yell about.

TL;DR: The story is great and the cultivation is fascinatingand the schemes are elaborate, but

[aweebwrites]

Allies Ch17

The gold fog cleared, bringing them back to the present and there was nothing but silence amidst them for the longest while, all of them processing what was revealed to them. Then, Garmadon sneered, eyes blazing with rage at the pure injustice served towards his son before he was even born! They planned to take Lloyd away from him for good, just for the sake of the cursed power that he had given them! Destiny was a hoax! A fable written by those who should never have such power! He wasn’t surprised by the truth behind his father’s intentions, no. He figured that out the day he left Fulgor, but to-

Lloyd crooned, bumping his forehead against his father’s again and he looked up at his son, at his red and blinded eye. Garmadon breathed out slowly. They failed. He was here with him and he should focus on that.

“I have one more wish to make, but I’ll need your help, son.” Garmadon spoke quietly, stroking his son’s muzzle.

“... What do you intend to wish for?” Wu spoke up and was met by two sets of glares, Lloyd growling low at them, poised and ready to attack at any moment.

“What? Still expect me to enslave Ninjago? To kill and destroy like the monster you expect me to be?” Garmadon asked, his tone light but cold. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint but I’m done living up to your expectations.” He sneered then grasped the Mega Weapon once more, Lloyd’s green energy arcing along his large dragonic body.

“Hear me once more Mega Weapon!” Garmadon began and both Wu and Morro felt the strong urge to stop him…

But who’s to say this isn’t the Cloud Kingdom interfering once more?

“I wish for a new bond to destiny be made! To be taken from those of the Cloud Kingdom and to be reforged with the people of Ninjago themselves, so that their destinies can truly be their own!” He yelled at the Mega Weapon glowed as it drew on both of their energies again, glowing brighter and brighter and brighter still.

The Cloud Kingdom was in chaos as their inks no longer registered to any scroll, making them unable to alter or narrate any life. They've failed to write the future of Ninjago in the First Spinjitzu Master's liking and now, they've lost the power they so coveted. Nobu walked out of the main Scribing Hall, looking down at the cloud and mist below. The line between good and evil is neither clear nor straight and is liable to change at any time. He thinks, the First Spinjitzu Master had good intentions, at first at least, but that didn't make his actions right. He was in a state of denial, denial in his blood that also carried the genetics of Oni, and denial of the fact that he played a key part in worsening the war. He also believed that he could outrun it but you can only run away from your problems for so long before they corner you. Well. Nobu was sure the First Spinjitzu Master has realised this by now.

____

Garmadon grunted as more of his power was zapped for the wish, Lloyd helping support him with his snout, a worried sound escaping him.

"I'm fine son. There's still so much to be done." He reassured his son.

Lloyd gave a protesting chatter they all understood.

"... Lloyd is… Right." Wu spoke again, choosing his words more carefully, still trying to process that…

Garmadon… His brother… That he was… The good one.

"You should rest. We have… Much to discuss… Brother…" Wu spoke quietly and Garmadon gave him a side glance before turning to face him.

“Now you know the truth of father’s nature.” He began, position and expression guarded. “Once I took the crown of Penumbra, I promised my people and my son that I would do everything in my power to end this war once and for all. The question now is; after everything you’ve learned of and witnessed today, will you agree to a truce… Or will you continue in father’s footsteps.” Garmadon questioned as Lloyd watched them carefully as well, his eyes narrowed from his place just above his father, the tip of his tail curled protectively before him.

Wu looked him over, not blind to the fact that Garmadon wasn’t trusting of him… As expected.

“... A truce would be best for the sake of both of our kingdoms.” Wu told him and Garmadon nods.

“Very well. I will be in contact about an official declaration and signing. For now, I will rally my troops and return to my Kingdom to recover it.” Garmadon told him, folding his lower arms behind his back.

“And the Mega Weapon?” Morro asked, expression cool but he clearly didn’t trust Garmadon still.

“It remains with me.” Garmadon says with narrowed eyes. “Penumbra has much healing to do and the Mega Weapon will play a vital role in that.” He pointed out, tightening his hold on the Mega Weapon.

Lloyd gave him a variety of low chitters and growls that roughly translated: ‘The Ice Knight has frozen our forces as well as theirs with permafreeze. We’ll need to break the ice and reverse the effect of the Dark Matter I used.’

Garmadon only nodded.

“Very well then.” He says, remaining unphased once Lloyd picked him up by the back of his cape and set him on his back.

With that, Lloyd beat his wings, taking to the air and Garmadon surveyed the damage. Despite the intense desert heat, the ice was nowhere near melting. He could make out a scrap pile for his Nindroids. The plasma blade they so coveted must have been their demise. Nevertheless, they can be repaired. Lloyd landed amidst the frozen chaos before he lowered himself so his father could get off. He took his humane form once more, watching as his father tapped the base of the staff against the ice underfoot and his destructive energy spread in a wave, cracking then shattering the ice as it traveled. Lloyd approached the corrupted Elementals as they immediately continued going after the rest, stepping between them.

“You-” Lloyd only used his green energy to purify them, surprising them.

“He’s the enemy-”

“No.” Neuro says, stopping Griffin from attacking as Lloyd moved on to free the stone soldiers from the grabbing vines, the strength of his energy orb too much for them to keep their hold. “The war is over… And by the looks of things… We were the enemy all along.” He whispered, watching as the Stone Soldiers ignored them in favor of picking up the pieces of their fallen comrades.

“The Mega Weapon! He has it!” Nya yelled then rushed towards Garmadon before the others could stop her.

Garmadon saw her coming as he supervised, blocking her water attack with the Mega Weapon and switching it over to his left side so his hands were free to deflect and block her attacks.

“Lloyd, find the Generals and have them supervise loading the Nindroids onto the Garmatron.” Garmadon told his son as he helped the Stone Soldiers and he nodded, heading off to do so while Nya only grew more angry with how easily she was being ignored while quite literally attacking the Dark Emperor.

“Stop already!” Griffin snapped at her swooping in and depositing her with the others.

“But-”

“Open your eyes Nya!” Tox snapped at her and Nya’s mouth clicked shut. “The war is over. We lost and if you had been listening, you would have realised it was for the best that we did!” She yelled and Nya frowned, not seeing the sense in that at all.

“The war is over Nya. Shouldn’t you be looking for your brother?” Neuro asked and Nya’s eyes widened.

“Kai!” She yelled as she took off, her heart pounding with a sudden burst of fear and trepidation.

Please be ok…

“Considering that we still exist, the Emperor has won.” Kozu says as Lloyd approached, picking up Cryptor’s arm, the Ice Knight lying motionlessly nearby.

“Yes. The Nindroids have been dismantled and Emperor Garmadon’s orders are for you two to supervise the parts being loaded to the Garmatron.” Lloyd says, gesturing to the Stone Army making their way towards them. “I’ll go look for Ultra Violet.” He says and both Generals nodded, Kozu shouting instructions in his ancient language.

He walked by the Fire Knight from where he laid barely alive somehow, towards the Lightning Ninja and Ultra Violet who were also somehow alive still. The Lightning Knight had clearly lost a ridiculous amount of blood after all. They were determined to live, He’d give them that. He walked over to an out cold Ultra Violet and heaved her up, throwing her over his shoulder, her long ponytail brushing the ground.

“So… We lost…” He glanced over at the Lightning Knight as he spoke, voice well below a whisper.

“You have.” Lloyd agreed. “But death won’t find any of you today. Thank your Ice friend for that.” He says then turned away as Wu’s forces turned from attack to recovery and first aid as well.

“Emperor.” Kozu addressed with a bow once Garmadon walked behind the Stone Soldiers as they collected the last of the Nindroids. “We may have a truce now but I have no doubt they will attempt to take the Golden Weapon still, despite the revelations they might have had.” He says as Lloyd climbed into the Garmatron, setting Ultra Violet down and taking control of the vehicle, turning it back to the direction of Penumbra.

“I know that well myself.” Garmadon says as he folded three of his four arms behind his back, the fourth holding the Weapon. “Trust is something that comes with time, despite the truth behind my father’s actions being realised. We may have a fragile peace right now but I have to be preventative. Once we are on Penumbrian territory, I will make my last wish for the day on the Mega Weapon to ensure our safety as the kingdom recovers from millenias of war.” He says as they all began the walk back to their territory.

“They have Shade.” Lloyd reminded.

“Yes, I’m aware. As do we have their Master of Amber. We will arrange an exchange date and have him return home as soon as possible. Simply taking him will not bode well and might be the perfect excuse to launch a second attack. While I have no doubt my brother will struggle with the truth presented to him still, he will not be pleased nor comfortable with the Mega Weapon being in my possession.” Garmadon hummed.

“But he’ll have to suck it up.” Lloyd declared and a wry smirk tugged at Garmadon’s lips.

“Indeed he will.”

_________

“Emperor!” Griffin yelled as he came to a stop before Wu who was supporting his son.

“What is it? What has happened?” Wu asked, fearing a fight with Garmadon if he decided to go against what they had agreed on.

“The Knights are in bad shape. We need medical help quick or else we’ll lose Kai, Cole and Jay. Zane’s core is done for so until we can find him a replacement, he's being considered a casualty of the final battle.” Griffin told him and Wu frowned.

“Then we haven’t a moment to lose.” Wu says as he kept going down the hill. “Head back to the castle and have the doctors ready for us. I’ll have to freeze them again, until we can get them back.” He says and Griffin nodded then bowed before taking off as fast as he could go, leaving nothing but dust behind.

“Go on. I’m fine. It’s just a broken arm.” Morro says as he pulled away from his father, holding onto his elbow to keep the weight of his lower arm off the break in his upper arm.

Wu nods at him before shifting and flying off mid run to do his part for his faithful knights. One by one he encased them in golden ice and gathered them up as Bolobo made makeshift gurneys with strong plants to be pulled and carried by the horses. He released them one by one and the Elemental Masters placed them on and securing them there one by one, Zane being set down last, his damage minimal but his core without so much as a spark. Wu only prays they could fashion another. With Morro also brought to the others, his hand also frozen and given a makeshift sling, they began their march of defeat home. They may have lost but the damage was substantially lighter than he had expected and he was grateful for that. For now, his Knights’ lives are hanging in the balance and he needed to- He froze as the horses started to act up, whinnying as a low rumble echoed through the land, shaking the very foundation of the land.

Fear filled Wu, terrified for a moment that Garmadon planned on submerging them all- but that was not it at all. He watched as not very far away, a huge divide began splitting the land in two, seawater rushing in to fill the void as the gap grew and grew, until he could no longer see the other half of the land their father made, until an entire sea was between the lands and the rumbling finally stopped. Wu frowned as he looked out at the view of the sea… from this not too far distance… Before urging his company onwards. Perhaps… Some distance is a good thing… For both Kingdoms...

______

Gamadon’s feet gave way as the last of his strength was sapped, even with Lloyd’s endless energy to assist, the Mega Weapon falling out of his hand as he did.

“Dad!” Lloyd gasped, helping to keep him on his feet, the darkness of him steaming away, leaving behind an older, two armed man with a head full of gray hair, pale yellow Ninjagan skin on display now.

“I’m fine, son. I’ve just… Exerted all the energy I had left…” Garmadon reassured, a little winded.

“You should remain in the Garmatron for now then.” Lloyd says with a tone of worry, picking up the Mega Weapon no-one else dare touch else they suffer instantaneous death, and supporting his father. “We’ll return home and you will recover your energy.” He told him as he urged him towards the ladder, knowing his father didn’t take kindly to that word.

But this time, things were different.

“Rest… Sounds good.” Garmadon admits, and Lloyd smiled ruefully as he urged his father to sit, handing him the weapon before taking over leading the army back.

They’ve finally achieved what they had been aiming for after all this time… Here’s to hoping this peace lasts…

_____________________ (I hope the results of the war didn't fall flat. I just went with the flow at the time and came up with this. But still, thank you for reading! One chapter left! [It's more like an Epilogue but eh]) _____________________ Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16

[phantomphangphucker]

In The Hands Of Teeth - The Reveal Is Upon Us

You stand in front of this particular Door of Revelations, “lexoendus”.You’ve been warned to go with caution, though you can’t see why; they played few games and never toyed with anything but people’s ocular sanity. Though the door qualifies as odd for sure. 

“Eh, I think it’s kinda stylish though not practical at all” patting your bag, checking that what you need is all there. Some food and drink, but most importantly your notes and The Knife of Revelations. 

“The handy work on this thing is still toothtastic” you compliment, eyeing the blade of sculpted teeth. Putting it back you then glance down to your notes on the Lexx virus, proper prep and all that jazz, You think with a teeth-baring chuckle. 

           :Lexonervosa: 

A highly contagious virus that attacks the central nervous system. After fully infecting a host the virus cells hideaway in the heart

           :Symptoms:

Riddle obsession

Visible mask hiding identity

Mild paranoia of being cured

Desire to torment d-o-t-s

Increase in shitposting

Narrow obsession with one unique thing that comes to define their existence henceforth

Sudden onset chaos

Forming symbolic bonds with other infected

Formation of a hidden Door of Revelations.

          :Treatment: 

Either unravel the riddles revealing their identity or eliminate the virus by finding and destroying the heart inside the Lexx’s form.

Running your tongue across your teeth you knock on the door, it creaks open and you’re are greeted by a HORRIFYING looking doorman. 

“hel-“, slamming the door shut but you reopen it because goddammit you have to do this. “-lo”, slamming the door again because fuck man you were not ready. Reopening the door slowly this time, but instead of speaking he simply raises an eyebrow; eyeing him and his harsh vertically stripped strawberry red suit cautiously you say “uh”. 

He takes that as freedom to speak while moving his limbs spastically he speaks with a mouth that’s alarmingly big and way too sharp. “It’s a pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure” he drags you in, both light pink hands on your right arm, his grip is quite strong borderlining on painful. The door giving a sudden and damning slam behind you “excuse my abrupt appearance but I saw your fiasco with the others and I just couldn’t resist!” Physically twirling you around to face him close enough that you could feel his breath if he had one, he’s hunched over so that he’s only slightly taller than you. “What a performance!” 

He Springs up to his full high suddenly, this guy must be at least 9 feet tall. “Why I haven’t been that entertained since the great political scandal of two one zero six!” He exclaims cranking his neck at painful and inhuman degrees wildly from side to side. The fact that he sounds out each number instead of saying them as a whole, is definitely all kinds of wrong; especially when he turns his head at a new angle after every number. He smiles wide “.....Soooo much tragedy” he mumbles. 

You feel sweat on your neck and are completely confused by this door and this man. Lexoendus while alarming seemed innocent enough! Why the heck is there a freakishly tall skinny man? 

Even his eyes are wrong, perpetually opened wide; you rarely see his eyelids. Either not noticing your mild distress or not caring, you can’t tell, this strange man continues “See I’m here because I want to help!” On that note he shoves you, with the head of his hooked crimson cane, down a hill which you hadn’t even noticed was there.

You stubble down into a land of teeth. 

Small teeth

                                                                 “Behold these approaching visitors” 🎵 

Big teeth

                                                                          “How I pity unwitting prisoners”🎵

Sharp teeth

                                                                              “Welcome to the dark world”🎵

Blunt teeth

                                                                                     “In front of you unfurled”🎵

Mountains of them

                                                                     “A beauty toying within your heart”🎵

Fields of flowers whose petals bite

                                                                 “Hearts to burn out as you fall apart“🎵 

Trees whose fang leaves would stab you if they fell

                                                              “How I wonder what for your searchin”🎵

Some stained with blood

                                                        “Come to see what keeps my world turnin”🎵

Some with dirt

                                                                      “In the dark only green eyes see”🎵 

And yet others bleached by exposure. 

                                               “There’s a game to be played that’ll see us free”🎵

Your toothy fall finally stills just as the doorman’s cane stabs into the ground next to your head. Standing you notice the thick barbed wire wrapping around his cane, that thing is a weapon for sure. He eyes you up and down, points his cane forward then taps your heels with the cane. 

“That’s the direction you seek sweetie” Getting the message you begin walking. You frequently have to step lightly over yet another snapping flower or dodge a falling tooth-leaf. I mean I adore twinkling shiny teeth and all but this is absurd. He walks a bit in front of you smiling all the while. You’re positive that he smiles wider every time something sharp comes a little to close to you for comfort. “What is all this and what is with that singing¿?¿” at this point, you have no clue what to expect. A sea of teeth would be pretty cool to see though you can’t help but think.

                                                       “Step outside with me, be a pawn no more”🎵

He gives a curled smile and twirls his cane.

                                                                “I’ve never had such fun, fun before”🎵

The occasional flash of eyes sky blue or radioactive green doesn’t make any of this seem more normal. “Why, it’s just what grows from Its presence” he is making a show of revealing as few teeth as possible while saying that. You are unsure if that’s comforting or deeply concerning. Especially since you don’t know why there even is a doorman. 

                                                                      “You’ve fallen so far, then farther”🎵

Shouldn’t there only be the main with a Lexx mask on or Lexx suit if that door symbolized anything. “See dearie, even sealed away It’s essence still drips” he points to the black ink-like substance dripping down the walls, or what you think might be walls, of this place. 

                                                              “Deep into the dark, darker yet darker”🎵

“It’s twisted nature, echoed in this place” he waves his hand out

                                          “Is it the time to set these disgusting chains on fire”🎵

“It? What “It”” you stare cautiously at his back noticing him smile wickedly and glance with one eye at you. Not stopping or slowing his pace.

“Decades ago It manifested seemingly overnight, It began to topple ghosts who had been-“

                                                                              “It seems like a lifetime ago”🎵

“-dominate since the beginning. -“

                                                                                  “Since I was free to glow”🎵 

“Such raw power hand never been seen before, many have speculated what unimaginable -“

                                                                                “Time for the fangs of gold”🎵

“- force enabled It to rival the zones most evil and destructive -“

                                                                                     “The story must be told”🎵

“- beings but one things for sure -“

                                                                                     “Domain built for a king”🎵

“-It is an unpredictable cause of destruction -“

                                                                               “Megalomaniac to extreme”🎵

“-a wicked source of mystery -“

                                                                                         “This corrupted mind”🎵

“-and a violent monster of chaos” 

                                                                                                “Is one of a kind”🎵

“The monster of ghosts long before” 

                                                                      “Full of corruption but that’s okay”🎵

“Creating paths of blood that followed It’s every word” slowing his pace and lifting up his cane as if it’s a staff he sweeps it around drawing your eyes over the land.  “Until, deep into this darkened forest, captured and imprisoned.” 

                                                                             “All restrictions will die away”🎵

“Uh, What kind of person is behind this Lexx!?” Your bewildered expression earns a hollow laugh. His expression one of loathing, of someone who’s put off revenge too long.

                                                                                “It’s not worth losing sleep”🎵

“Who are you¿?¿” You can no longer help but ask. Some weird doorman that shouldn’t exist who clearly has motives of some kind. His wicked grin returns with a vengeance “Why dearie me, how could I have forgotten something so utterly unimportant” he says that last word in a way that’s sickeningly sweet. But his scratching voice is all wrong for such a tone. 

                                                                                   “It’s not worth analyzing” 🎵

“I am -”

                                                                                          “I’m not the bad guy”🎵

“- Atlas” he finishes with something close to a bow. This is the closest you’ve gotten to getting him to stop moving. 

                                                                                     “I’m just a bit surprising”🎵

You eye him carefully, he has the name of a guide but he’s still weird. “Well, you seem like the kind of “atlas” that guides people to” looking around “toothy deaths” Entirely stopping he tilts his head painfully to the left at a perfect 90-degree angle. “Dear if I wanted to hurt anybody here, I would have done so already” with a too large grin. Again you’re unsure of whether you’re comforted or more concerned.

You two have been walking along for a while now, you’ve noticed that as you’ve walked the teeth have become more deformed, more damaged and more rotten. Honestly, they’re still pretty, though I prefer the more pearly ones. Not to mention there’s actually a smell accompanying it, you scrunch your nose up. Atlas suddenly hooks the back of your shirt with the curve of his cane and lifts you up to his eye level, ToothTacular Christ this man is tall! “Down where the monsters hide, normal is just a dream for all the ghosts like It” 

“Uh, ok¿” You respond to his out of left field statement still dangling from his cane.“You lost your mind lassie, can’t be doing that here” putting you down he continues on with a playful glare. “I’m pretty sure he did that just to be a toothy dick” You mutter. “If you notice the scents you’re thinking too much.” He states tapping you on the nose with his cane. 

Deciding that ignoring him is probably a bad idea, chuckling you state “I’m just here to purge this Lexx virus, eyeing the scenery might help me find It since you seem to be either taking me the long way around or are just a distraction” adding “though all the glistening teeth are rather pretty, like all the stars in space fell to earth.” Earning a genuine chuckle from the smiling doorman.“This whole Lexx thing, this simple virus, has been quite the thing! if I do say so” with an odd bow towards you “which I do” he finishes with a toothy smirk and a suspicious narrowing of his eyes. 

                                                                                “Which gave me a new gig“🎵

“Uh yeah, it’s made for lots of jokes, even new friends.” You smile fondly. Grinning wide, he replies “Oh, I’m certain it has sweet cheeks!”

“Caused for tons of people to show off those bones in their jaws that don’t have any flaws.” Eyeing his grinning teeth with a level of admiration, the man clearly cares about them “which you seem to be doing a lot yourself”. Chuckling “of course, I’ve got no reason not to.” 

                                                                                      “let me know if you dig”🎵

“Now why don’t we get to something juicy!” He straightens with a harsh jerk and a wider smile.”since you seem so eager to be all, one and done” he twirls his cane while also twirling his free hand. 

                                                                    “Ain’t going home so better go big”🎵

You had long since stopped paying attention to the odd ass song being sung or played, you didn’t know. Though maybe that hadn’t been such a wise choice.

Grinning wildly he continues on, both with his feet and his large mouth. “The Lexx you seek isn’t much father, but lassie you lack what you need. And I don’t care to be a bother to your time or my own.” 

“What do you mean? I’ll just go up and tell them to give up the ghost. Shits over, parties done -“

                                                                    “Everything I’ve done in this plight”🎵

“- pack up your mask and skedaddle” 

                                                                        “No regrets and the time is right”🎵

He laughs in both a humoured and mocking way “dearie no, follow my guidance, would you kindly; some things need to be brought satisfaction!” his eyes curl upwards which is definitely not a human expression.

“Um ew” rolling his eyes he steamrolls right over your comment as he walks to stand right in front of you. Bending down he strokes you lightly on the chin “all I need from you, sweetheart, is a little present” straightening up and twirling the hand that isn’t atop his cane “a sacrificial lamb if you will”.

                                                                                       “But with this Lexx jail”🎵

“You mean like herbs or a full-on person to murder?!” You state raising your eyebrow and crossing your arms playfully, unsure if he’s serious or if this is just some sort of weird “are you worthy” test. 

                                                         “you might get help from this devil of tale”🎵

“Death and destruction! But of course!” He exclaims cheerily, lofting his arms and shoulders up in what would be an exaggerated shrug if it wasn’t for his stiff back and cheery demeanour. “It is the brokenness that exists in every demented thought. -“

                              “Saw the fun, an opportunity, and along this creature bring”🎵

“Singing twisted melodies throughout all the lands.”

                                                       “With my fangs, incisors I can do anything”🎵

“Showing the images of the sick and disturbed” 

                                                          “Am I your friend? Perhaps, perhaps not”🎵

“How could It require anything’s else to be freed” he finishes with his face only inches from yours.

                                                                  “Mischief, mischief or chaos, chaos”🎵

Jarringly he pulls back while saying “just someone who’s a true sinner, truly vile, wretched! a traitor!” with a curt nod he adds “yes, that would certainly do splendidly”. Staring at him you wonder would someone with shitty teeth do it? who would fit such a bill? Who woul- you are stuck by a cursed memory. One so vile that thinking of it in a positive manner would certainly be cause for genuine concern, hell it might make your teeth fall out. Looking to this strange pink skinned red-suited man, you reply with a wide toothy grin of your own “oh I know just the sinner”

                                                                              “Now you know the just of it”🎵

His returning grin is so wickedly large you fear his face may become lost in it. Though honestly, that would be an improvement. “Puuuuuurfect” again in that sickly sweet voice. “Simply get him here, preferably with the utmost haste” 

                                                                                         “found the perfect fit.”🎵

Shooing you with both his hands, cane under his left armpit, does he even need that thing? “Now hurry along sweetheart, can’t have you dilly-dallying!” you turn to face him but instead find yourself smack dab in front of a door. “Where the-“ you get cut off as something pushes you right through the door. That felt suspiciously like a cane handle. Facing the now closed door one doorman simply smiles and cranks his head to and fro. 

                                                                                              “Finished training”🎵

Upon returning to the door with a man in tow, which only happened because he knew about the Lexxpocalypse and like almost everything else the phandom did, he hated it. The door is still weird but this time you expect the creepy ass doorman, Atlas. Chuckling you say “go on open the door, opening a door is a pretty easy solution for this whole mess” I hope he scares you so bad you never talk again, you idiotic bastard. You don’t even deserve your own teeth. The man oddly just does it, muttering all the while “no one mocks my show with some stupid headcanons and this meme shit” As soon as the door opens he is yanked inside but as you rush to follow him in you find neither him nor Atlas. “Well, this is just toothtastic” you chuckle dryly.

                                                                                                “done explaining”🎵

Chuckling atop a hill with the limp body of one Bitch Fuckman this smiling doorman says with a grin “this time the sweet little thing can find her way to me, let her experience this places plentiful charms” Atlas simply walks off to where he had been when you had left this place.

Stumbling along you realize it’s a lot harder to not notice the song when you’re alone “that man though strange, is a stellar distraction”.

                                                                           “Nothing will be left remaining”🎵

It’s a lot harder to ignore the constant snapping of teeth, 

  ��                                                                      “A cold and maddening decent”🎵

The occasional thunk of a tooth-leaf piercing the ground

                                                                                “Nothing thing can prevent”🎵

And the song which you’re starting to think is a warning, plus this place is smelling quite strongly. Eventually, you find yourself giggling “Christ what is wrong with this place? It’s like an acid trip at a really obsessive dentists office” Quickly you school your thoughts, remembering Atlas’s earlier warning and deciding that it was definitely right; giggling isn’t something you normally do. No matter how many pretty teeth there are here, I do have some ability to feel shame after all. 

Finally, you spot the man of the hour, the doorman, Atlas. “Uh, are you carrying a limp or dead Bitch? Not that I’m complaining though” You ask as you approach cautiously.“Oh worry not dear, he’s simply sleeping!”

“Well, that’s a nice way of saying you whacked him” you mutter through crosses arms. “Oh come now, I’d hardly call giving him a gentle push “whacking”” with a shrug he adds “even if that push was down a few too many feet with a very sharp landing!” chuckles escaping his wide grin. With every step Bitch’s legs bounce limply and at some point, he lost a shoe. But remembering Livin’ Large you’re pretty sure you aren’t expected to care. Though you still elect to give Atlas a wider birth for the rest of this “trip” you don’t want it to turn into an actual trip.....down some toothy rocks. Though death by teeth sounds like a right good way to go.

Eventually, you stumble across a dilapidated throne of contorted teeth, occasionally blurring and glitching.“Well that seems grandiose and excessive, but it is mawvellous” you shake your head though Atlas simply eyes you with his ever-present smile. “On top the tipsy tower sits the tyrant, deliver It a devilsknife, see It smilin’.” Is all the commentary he supplies.“The only smiler I’ve seen here is you Mr. Doorman” 

                                                   “When this game is over, my waiting stopped”🎵

Then you notice the figure sitting stiff on the throne, it’s Lexx mask standing out starkly. You also notice that this Lexx’s mask does have one hell of a weird ass smile. “Seriously? The psychotic murder Yugio face?” You’re not sure whether to be judging or amused, at least they went with a nice set of chompers.  INSERT FACE 

Shrugging Atlas merely says “it seemed most fitting my dear” Shaking your head, you take the Knife of Revelations out from your bag. 

                                                             “All hope of ending me will be dropped”🎵

“I still don’t get why the sacrifice is needed” jabbing a thumb in the general direction of Bitch’s body, which has been unceremoniously left on the ground in a heap.“since this knife business should be all that’s needed” you fail to catch the wide and malicious smile Atlas gives. 

                                         “Did you enjoy this game we played with your heart”🎵

Stepping up you plunge the knife through the heart of worming teeth, causing the facade to fade. As it does so, revealing the creature beneath and you understand why things were this way. 

                                                           “But with this, the Lexx game falls apart”🎵

“Sweet fanged Christ” stumbling back, if there was a door to slam you would because this glitchy antlered thing almost hurt to look at. Turning to Atlas you say. “Uh buddy? -“ 

                                                                                                        “Evil One?” 🎵

“- Where the ever loving fuck is the main blog, I don’t know of any blog tied to this” You gesture wildly at the stretching glowing thing that’s now lounging like a cat across Its throne, four green eyes slitted in contentment “thing”

                                                                                                       “Risen one?”🎵

“Oh honey, this Lexx thing was all for It,-“

                                                                               “No I just want to have fun.”🎵

“- to bring It out-“

                                                        “But this new world of old can’t be tamed” 🎵

“The main blog has little involvement here”“That doesn’t make a tooth lickin’ inch of sense ya freaky man” you groan slightly high pitched. “What or who even is that, a ghostsona I assume but -“Chuckling he cuts you off “a ghostsona indeed little dearie, as for the who well..”

                                                                             “Now time to be truly named”🎵

Chuckling atop Its throne It walks down the glitching steps, glitching Itself in time with it; it’s clawed feet reverberating clicking sounds across the ground and all its joints making a strange static sound at every movement. 

“I’m an apex predator, TheSilver Born” spoken through a mouth full of sharp teeth and thick fangs. Grinning, Atlas knows well enough to step back. You, however, know no such thing. 

“I, this thing, am Alistar” It says it’s mouth unhinging twice with a voice best described as honey that’s been poisoned. “and I well, I was outcasted, sealed, only cause this thing” gesturing with one hand outlandishly to Itself, clawed fingers brushing up against its opened sleeveless black trench coat “couldn’t be brought to zero” It steps closer to you standing straight with an outreaching hand only a foot away from touching you. It’s white mist like hair waving in the air, easily twice it’s body length. At this point, you realize you don’t actually have the ability to back off. 

“Now here you stand, a proud little hero” came Its mocking sneer, sliding it’s horrifyingly long pointed black tongue out only to crack it like a whip in the air. Well this is some fangbangin’ bullshit, standing your ground “generally things that are sealed up are for a reason”

Chuckling and cracking Its tongue again, It responds “Oh I promise I am innocent of any Wicked crime”. With that Atlas steps up behind you, lightly kicking the unconscious Bitch Fuckman as he does, and begins stroking your hair. Dude, bro, buddy, pal, you are getting freakier and freakier by the second. I’m all for mawvellously creepy but not this kind of creepy. You elect not to say that out loud though. 

“Others feared what it could do! This creature! By terrified eyes locked away.” He suddenly lifts a pointer finger up in front of your face. “So cleverly, I waited till Its name became long forgotten.” Chuckling he continues while you eye him with mild horror “Waited till the knowledge of Its murderous wake all dried up”. Listening all the while Alistar grins, Its long pointed ears twitching, at the mention of Its past actions; which definitely were wicked. “Till no one suspected It had ever been” 

Ok. Ya. You’re the evil, or at least malicious, kind of creepy. Not my style. Opting to attempt for more information you ask him “what do you mean? That doesn’t make a-“

Cutting you off he supplies “Alistar’s been gracing these lands for a long time dearie. I felt that this “Lexxpocalyspe” was fit for ripping down Its bars” laughing lightly he continued “So the world bear witness to Its personal brand of fun!”

Chuckling Alistar adds “Now See My chaos collapse this fragile house of cards” It spreads it’s arms wide head back with its unihorn aglow, gesturing wildly as the environments teeth crack and pop, exploding and leaking, dripping shiny black.

                                                                      “Free to create fountains of dark”🎵

                                                                      “Reawakening this twisted heart”🎵

Laughing It spins and hugs itself. Tipping Its body over to Bitch Fuckman It cups his face in Its long clawed hands but turns Its head to face you.

“Remember you signed on to this toothy game” 

“So if someone winds up dead well then I’m not the one to blame” It borderline purrs showing a wide toothy grin. As the environments teeth all burst to black you notice that thick tendrils of black ink cling to, no bind, this creature and you come to understand. “The teeth looked way better decorations wise” sighing there’s no way this is good “the sacrifice had nothing to do with the Lexx virus, did it?.” 

                                                          “By the time that you’ve played your part”🎵

“That my dear -“

                                                          “A blackness will awaken with this heart” 🎵

“ - is obvious” Grinning wide showing every pointed tooth Atlas traces his middle finger up the middle of your throat drawing your chin to tilt back. Once again this is the wrong kind of creepy, dude. Still smiling he looks down at you “Oh yes my sweet this is not any sort of end, but rather a great new beginning!”. 

Alistar smiles, body glitching between white and black wildly “a little horror-story just begun and our shows so far from over”. Chuckling Atlas wraps his long limbs around you from behind and rests his head atop of yours, just as Bitch Fuckman wakes. Well bite me and call me completely screwed. Is all the commentary your brain supplies. 

Alistar kneeling over Bitch, legs at odd angles showing off Its second backwards knees, the sight rips from him a blood-curdling scream. “Oh come now, don’t make a fuss!” Atlas laughs “We’re only playing” Alistar practically sneers into Bitch’s face. “Playing is fun! This is hardly what I’d call fun! What the hell are you! Where the hell is this!” Bitch rapidly speaks. Words cascading out like a terrified waterfall.“Oh, when you’re with us the party never ends!” Atlas says as he hooks Bitch’s ankle with his cane, yanking it so to complete dislocate the leg. Bitch dissolved into pathetic crying and screaming. “Y-you’re insane! T-this i-is insane!” 

“I’m pretty sure they both lost it long ago” you mutter. “Oh don't be a downer sweet cheeks! Let It enjoy Its new plaything!” He gives your chin a somewhat painful pressured stroke.

Then Alistar, bellowing loud “I, in the name of chaos” Flings him across the floor with one hand as It stands. Unfortunately for him, Atlas’s grip on his cane is formidable causing the previously dislocated leg to be ripped clean off.  “To you, the creator who betrayed us, even flaunted it on tape.” 

Thousands of miniature screens spin around glitching and play varying clips from Phantom Planet. You can’t help the mental knee jerk reaction of fuck Phantom Planet, it’s not canon. All the while Bitch lays crumpled with blood leaking from his stump leg. 

“We’ve written your fate and it can not be erased” Alistar and Atlas say together. 

Atlas - “Shamed” 

Alistar - “Disgraced”

Atlas - “Scathed”

Alistar - “Defaced “

“I’ll never write another damn cartoon again, I quit!” Bitch Fuckman screams but it’s no use. You’re reminded of that face, one of unsatisfied vengeance, Atlas wore earlier. He knew exactly who I’d pick when he asked for a sacrifice. You realize, feeling played but also impressed. He’s a mawvellous bastard even if he’s definitely not good or nice. Though I guess I’m not one to talk on that. 

                                                                   “Kicking, screaming, sinking slowly”🎵

Alistar, grabbing his face, places both Its legs atop his belly.

                                                              “Give your soul, it’s what you owe me”🎵

“Why are you doing this!” He bellows “those were the best episodes!” It doesn’t dignify him with a genuine answer instead only supplying “No rhyme or reason just a smile that’s only growing wider!” As Atlas laugh heartedly. Clearly, he’s enjoying the show. 

Alistar’s fangs sink into Bitch’s throat, causing strange energy to flow out of his form into It causing the black tendril chaining It to spasm and slide off pooling into an inky mess. Jeez, at least I’m joking when I threaten to eat people. Standing up every movement flicks black ink off Its form, rubbing Its face it smiles and comes over to run claws through your hair, leaving behind some of the inky mess. 

Cringing you manage to get out “so, uh, could I fucking go now.” Squirming quite aggressively against Atlas’s grip, but to no avail “You got to show your fangy crap to an unwitting prisoner so...” Right at the end of those words someone with skin pale white, eyes of the brightest blue and lips darkest night, steps up behind the creature named Alistar, it’s thetribalmoth. 

With a soft, though unkind smile she says “apologies young thing but that can’t happen” she’s the main you realize, as she strokes Alistar lightly across the chin and up the jaw with the back of her pointer finger. Oddly she gets none of the black mess on her. “You’re not really here, are you” you glare as you notice that she also happens to be a bit translucent. “Of course not, but I had to make some sort of appearance” smiling “I couldn’t just let my creations play without making my presence known” Glaring you retort “I’m not something of your “creation”” you would air quote if you could move. Laughing Atlas produces a pocket mirror and clicks it open right in front of you.

                                                                  “For maybe there is hope you’ll see”🎵

Looking back at you is the face of Lexoendus. “WHAT. THE. FUCK” 

                                                     “Your shackles don’t need any broken keys”🎵

Laughing thetribalmoth says “Oh please what did you expect, nothing I didn’t create could ever find this place alone” 

                                                                         “With you I was finally set free” 🎵

Atlas indulges you “you were needed, something to allow Alistar access to the outside. A Lexx was quite a perfect scheme.”

                                                           “I’ve been given this perfect opportunity”🎵

“So I brought the virus here”

                                                                                              “Take it with pride“🎵

“And I weaved your fabric” finished thetribalmoth.

                                                                                           “And enjoy the ride“ 🎵

“And how fortunate that you fit just right.” Alistar adds. “You fanged fucks knew this whole show would have to come to an end” swallowing harshly, baring as much of your teeth as Atlas’s grip would allow “that there would be a cure to purge the virus in time” you finish. The only answer you got was a grin from Alistar. 

                                                             “I’ll forever be a part of this community”🎵

“You took on a bit of a life of your own dearie,” Atlas says, sickly sweet. “But I didn’t stab my own heart you toothytits. I stabbed the one in that thing!” You struggle slightly more in your confusion. “Ahh, sooo many teeth puns” thetribalmoth sighs happily as she sits resting her head on a hand. “It’s nice to have something in common, I’m glad we can relate” you glare at her, which she seems to take pleasure in. 

Walking up Alistar takes the Knife of Revelations from you, chuckling “Twas but an illusion of a tricksters game” The doorman’s smile is verging on giddy at the complement to his handy work as Alistar then leans in pushing the knife into your chest. “Can you feel it? join me in the darkness, join me and I can finish what you started” It purrs. Well, this bites. There’s not anything you can really do with Atlas wrapped around you from behind, he’s stronger than he looks, and Alistar is pushed right up against your chest. 

You sputter through the black seeping over you and dribbling out your mouth. Jerking and glaring upwards you speak refusing to sound weak “Why would you? It seems like your goal is just to damn the world, but why?” Continuing on “why all this?”

“Honey, sweet thing, I’d say that doesn’t really matter. ‘Tis simply what I do.” While thetribalmoth mutters “Amusing is it not, how far he’ll go to keep this world from being left alone”

“So you create just to destroy? How many others have you ended to get what you want!” You accuse, completely ignoring thetribalmoth. Who honestly, seems pretty used to just yelling into a toothy void with no one paying attention. “Dearie, to win some you lose a few hundred” grinning “it wasn’t that bad anyway” twirling his cane free hand as you collapse to the ground, inside your toothy heart squirming wildly, body flickering, and slowly being merged into Alistar. Atlas, chuckling “at least you were good for something! It’s vision through your eyes has given It new life!” 

“That’s real comforting” you wheeze out.

Then Alistar’s face, which was previously only inches from yours, whips over to face Bitch’s corpse as It slinks over. Long black veining connecting the two of you. Giving Bitch’s corpse a pat down “does this thing have any liquor?”

“I’ve just been functionally used as an entertainment teeth puppet to free a literal devil” you glare as harshly as one can while dying “Could you at least try to be serious” though I guess if the roles were reversed I wouldn’t be taking shit seriously either. “Oh don’t get your dolly eyes in twist sweetheart” Atlas says with a playful eye roll, as he bends down above you.

“Was that you trying to be sexist or Lexxist?”

“Whatever pisses you off more” he adds “besides it’s not like you were built to last” he dismisses you with a single twirl of his cane as he turns to face the erratic scene Alistar is making. His face is one of pure affection mixed with giddiness. That kind of affection screams adoration at that realization you continue your train of thought huh, he must serve her somehow. No wonder he’s here. “Is there seriously no liquor on him?” Groaning as It flops down and lounges outstretched across the corpse, smearing Itself with blood in the process.

“how does this fucker live with himself without a constant stream of knock-off mini bottles?” Is the last thing you hear before the static consumes you, as thetribalmoth erases your name. Your last thought is simply well at least I died absurdly and toothtastically.

Atlas sits down, legs crossed with his cane across both hips. As Alistar, standing with Its chest against his back, lounges It’s arms over his shoulders rubbing a cheek against the left side of his head. 

Singing softly,

                                                    “These toothy parts freed my encaged heart”🎵

                                                     “Bringing lexoendus to an end, ripped apart”🎵

                                                                        “This, their last show to put on”🎵

                                                                           “But after tonight they’re gone”🎵

                                                                               “I’ve made them disappear”🎵

                                                                                “Now I’m the monster here”🎵

                                                                     “A ghost reborn from their ashes” 🎵

Hundreds of voices cry, they thought you’d free them from this trial but you have only brought their pyre

@yourfaveissecretlyalexxblog

[ask-joeydrewstudios]

Family Sticks Togehter

@phoena12 submitted: a quick fic i wrote for Angst War 2k18, hope you enjoy!

It had been a peaceful day or as peaceful as the studio could get, the occasional pipe bursting and sending tidal waves of ink in every direction, the sounds of pen scratching onto paper as the widening grin of Bendy takes shape. Sammy had taken to shouting as of late, much to Wally’s and some better un named interns glee, as Bendy plays prank after prank on the poor music director. Their footfalls soon heard as bendy comes screeching out of an ink stained office with a peeved (and soaked) Sammy Lawrence, insults spitting from his mouth. It takes Wally a few minutes to stop his cackling.

Sweet melodies combined with a twirl of angelic singing comb through the halls of the studio, a few employees stopping briefly by the recording studio to catch the sunny tune. Susie making the bass vocals as Alice leads with the main part, the two lost in the joy of it. Jack leans to one side of the recording booth, scanning over the lyrics and hums along to the instrumental parts.

Down below, where memories breathe a little more life than ought to be, sits Shawn, tinkering away with his bendy plushies. A careful eye analysing each and every aspect of the doll he has in hand. Satisfied, he smiles and places the doll down amongst others. A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder as Lacie asks a genial question. Shawn shrugs, stands and gestures at an oil smudged Lacie to lunch. She scoffs but heads for the elevator nonetheless, making a joke that Shawn’s eyes were looking a little green today. He laughs. He usually forgets to take his goggles off.

Several floors above, Joey sketches out various ideas to put forth for the next cartoon strip, various doodles of Bendy pulling pranks or just getting into mischief. Alice being the voice of reason and Boris the lovable antagonist. Notes are hastily scribbled at the sides, some a little indecipherable in his haste to have the picture make sense. He was sure Henry and the others would love them. At least, he think they would if not for the shouting that interrupted Joey’s thoughts. It sounded like Sammy and Bendy were at it again. He heaves a sigh, pushes up from his chair and begins a casual walk out towards the racket. Oh sure, he was gonna give them hell when he caught them but why waste that energy now. Joey waves a hello at passing co-workers.

“I’m gonna ring yer damn neck ya imp!!” Sammy all but screeches.

“Ya gotta catch me first!” Bendy snickers back as he quickly rounds a corner, only to bump into his father figure, Joey.

“I got ya now twerp!” Sammy hollers as he catches up with Bendy and grabs him by the scruff, “oh yer in for it now” Sammy spits. Failing to notice Drew but we’ll just blame it on the fact his face is covered in ink and not the overriding frenzy that has him worked up instead.

“I don’t think that is in your best interests Sammy” Joey speaks up. An audible gulp can be heard as Sammy snaps his neck to meet the cold blue eyed gaze of his boss, dropping Bendy in the process and eliciting an “oww” from him.

There’s a slight pause from both demon and music director before Bendy wraps his arms about Joey’s legs and whimpers a “he started it!” How very convincing and certainly Joey would be had he not had to deal with this same situation time and time again.

“You know damn well you started it ya pest!” Sammy glowers down at Bendy, “he flooded my office again” this he says to Joey, firmly holding his gaze. Joey could have guessed that by the state of his appearance alone.

“That fact is very evident, Sammy, what im most concerned about is the level of noise and destruction (at this he looks pointedly down the hall the two had come cavorting through) that you two have caused”. If looks could kill, Sammy would have dropped dead right there on the floor. “And Bendy” Joey begins with that parental tone that brooks no space for argument, “how many times have I told you not to flood Sammy’s office?”

Bendy idly rubs his forefingers together, a petulant frown showing, “26 times?” he tries but it doesn’t yield any form of a smile from the older man. Bendy gives up his childish act and goes to stand by Sammy, the both of them looking like disgraced children.

“47 actually” Joey sighs out. He wishes Henry were here instead. “Bendy, you’re not allowed in the animation department for the rest of the week”

“What!? But Joey-“Bendy squawks before being cut off.

“No.” it’s harsh but Bendy needs to learn. “As for you, Sammy, your coffee intake will be reduced” that might be pushing it but it’s the only way Joey can really reprimand Sammy.

“Fine…” Sammy grouches, unwilling to fight further on the subject with his boss. He supposed, as well, that he had caused a bit of havoc for the rest of the studio, especially for Wally.

“Good, I shall leave you two to-“

“But what am I meant to do for the rest of the week!” Bendy suddenly pipes up, his hands fisted slightly and looking none too happy about the arrangement made.

“You can draw or you can go play in the other departments” Joey tries.

Bendy grumbles under his breathe, looking about as mad as a dozing kitten, as he stalks off, stomping his little feet every now and then. Sammy nods a curt farewell as he goes to clean himself off. The both of them, Joey concludes then and there, are like spoilt children. Ah well, they would get over it sooner or later and besides, a week wasn’t a long time and Sammy could live without coffee. It might even do his health some benefit.

~~0~~

He was mad.

No!

He was fuming!

He was…he was….what was that word Sammy always used?

Pissed! Yeah that was it, Bendy was pissed as all hell. He’d show Joey, he could find plenty to do without sitting with Henry and watch him draw out each careful line of his beloved cartoon. Nope, Bendy wouldn’t miss the soft scratch of pen to pristine paper, or the gentle mutters of the other animators or the lulling hums of Henry as he zoned out.

Nope!

Nu-uh!

Bendy wasn’t gonna miss any of it. In fact it would do him wonderfully to get away from such a dull place. Think of all the pranks he could pull on everyone else! Oh, Joey would regret this decision. Not that Bendy ‘cared’.

Except his plans hadn’t, well, gone according to plan at all.

Wally had caught on to all of Bendy’s pranks and even alerted the rest of the studio to any other of his shenanigans (the gall!), so pranks were swiftly thrown out the window.

Even Alice and Susie wouldn’t put up with him. They had welcomed him into their conversation but the little demon soon lost track or sense of the conversation and after asking the 40th or so question pertaining to “why a guy’s butt looks good in dress pants, compared to overalls”, both women had kicked Bendy out of the conversation. If you asked Bendy, guy’s butts looked better in skirts!

And Lacie and Shawn were no help either. Lacie pretty much kept Bendy at an arm’s length whilst she worked on some mechanical thing and when Bendy had inquired as to what it was she was working on (and god did he ever regret that question) she had shown him a metallic doll that looked like him.

Except it was missing its eyes.

And some of its teeth had fallen out.

Oh and there was oil coming out of its eyes which was not ok?

Bendy had promptly fled the room screaming and hid beneath a stack of dolls.

Another dire mistake because today was filled with those apparently.

Shawn just had to pick him up out of the stack and Shawn just had to stick a needle dangerously close to his eyes. To Bendy’s amusement, Shawn did scream when finding it to be the real him but, you know, having a needle that close to your eye?

That’s not such an amusing thing.

So, Bendy had booked it outside the studio and yes, he was always told never to go outside the studio but the place was beginning to get too stifling and the fresh air and cooling wind felt good. The sky was blue with thick fluffy clouds, like out of a picture book. It was serene. Nice. Bendy inwardly thanked Joey for giving him a reason to go outside. What Bendy failed to know was that for a toon, stepping outside was a death wish.

He didn’t hear their footsteps or their murmured voices, only the flash of a camera and the shocked cries of humans. He didn’t recognise the voices. He didn’t recognise their faces either. Oh but they recognised him for sure.

Bendy had darted back into the studio, the people shouting and causing an uproar now. They banged against the door. His heart fluttered once and then began an uneven beat. Fast and unrelenting. Oh god, what did he do?

With tears welling in his eyes he runs to the one person who could sort out this mess.

Henry.

He knows, he shouldn’t go anywhere near the animation department, the building anxiety of Joeys disappointed features tearing at the young toons heart. Bendy felt as if he would burst.

As he reaches Henry, he’s a crying mess, ink and tears dripping heavily to the floor. No doubt a puddle would form. Henry is instantly on his knees.

“Hey,hey, what’s wrong buddy?” with a soothing tone that has Bendy bawling even more, the other animators coming to see the ruckus.

It hurts. It hurts so much because bendy is crying and sobbing and begging. “Im sorry, im sorry” and “please forgive me Henry” over and over again. His voice goes hoarse and cracks and god, does he feel like he’s gonna burst. There’s too many people and as Henry picks up his shaking form, Bendy burrows his face into his shirt, staining it in tears and ink.

~~0~~

The next day is even worse when the newspapers arrive. A picture of Bendy standing just outside the studio door, a soft and surprised look on his face, on the front page. He cries as Joey stares blankly at the page, eyes widening as he reads each word.

“Drew studios conducting experiments?” one reads.

“Famous star, Bendy, seen outside Drew Studios in freak photo!” another states.

And on and on such titles go, the wonder and mostly horror, at the favoured cartoon being alive.

It was a scandal to be sure.

The studio is silent that day, nobody works.

Henry holds Boris close, as Susie links hands with Alice. The silence a sharp and stabbing pain.

Bendy resigns himself from the chatter but Joey picks him up and holds him close.

“We’ll figure this out” he promises. Bendy cries and hopes that he does.

~~0~~

He’s not sure how many days have passed now.

The newspapers have grown less restive and in response to the heated media, the public takes a stand and protest outside of Drew studios.

It’s horrible and noisy and it’s all his fault.

Bendy doesn’t cry anymore. Just weak shudders and the occasional whimper.

Alice had yelled at him. Screaming. Throwing her hands about in wild gesticulation. Then she had stormed off and Bendy hadn’t seen her since. Susie assured him that she had calmed down but knew that wasn’t the case. Alice would never forgive him. She would hate him forever.

The thought was a punch to the gut.

Intern after intern had been laid off too, seeing as the mobs were getting rowdy and demanding entrance to the studio. Someone had been hurt, a long and nasty gash down their head. Bendy could still smell the blood.

Joey had even taken an interview stating that there were no living toons and such an idea was foolish. Clearly, the public hadn’t believed it.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault

It was all his fault!

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthi-

Well-toned arms had picked him as impossibly more tears slipped down his broken features, swaying him back and forth and murmuring soft words.

Henry.

Henry was here and standing at his side was Boris and Joey, both looking worried and aged beyond their years. Alice appeared from nowhere and placed a reassuring hand upon Bendy’s quivering self, a small smile telling she had forgiven him.

“Oh, Bendy…” Henry begins, softly, “no more tears, we’ll figure this out, ok?”

“b-but I… I hurt everyone…” Bendy hoarsely whispers, his eyebrows drawn tight and lip quivering.

“Ya certainly caused a mess, imp, but were used ta cleaning up yer messes” Sammy chips in, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I think ya mean I’m more used ta it, I’m the janitor ‘ere” Wally quips as he shrugs past Sammy. Sammy rolls his eyes in response.

“Oh would you two stop! The boy is clearly upset!” Lacie scolds from the end of the hall, her boots thudding as she makes her way to the growing group, Shawn trailing behind.

“We’re in this together” Alice murmurs as she rests her head on Henry’s shoulder.

“A family that works together, sticks together, is what I always say” Joey supplies, hands on his hips in a triumphant manner.

“Since when have you ever said that?” Susie drawls, earning a few snickers.

“W-well, just now!” Joey replies indignantly. Everyone giggles.

A family that sticks together, huh?

Yeah, Bendy had a whole family at his back that loved and cherished him.

Everything would work out in the end.

((OHH IT STARTED OUT REALLY CUTE BUT THEN GOT REALLY SCARY IN THE MIDDLE AND GOT CUTE AGAIN,,,, i love that... thats some Good Stuff. and they’re a family. they’re calling each other family. ohhhhhh my weakness, my biggest weakness-- thank you for the fic!! ; o ;))

[theliterateape]

Acknowledging Privilege and Bias Without Shame

by Don Hall

"I've read your shit. I know you don't understand that looting and property destruction is a legit form of protest. What you don't get is that in a society with so few having so much, stealing from the rich is completely justified."

"OK. What's the definition of 'rich' then?"

"Oh, don't play. You know what rich is."

"I do but the thing is, if we sanction and justify you stealing from someone you determine is richer than you, aren't you also richer than someone else? Do you have a car?"

"Yes, I have a car but I'm certainly not rich."

"You're richer than someone who can't afford a car. So, by the logical argument you make, a homeless dude has a legit justification for stealing your car. From his perspective, you are far richer than he is so you're cool with that?"

"So you believe we should just shut up and take what we're given?"

"I didn't say that. I believe in the power of protest to elevate awareness of issues. Even believe in property destruction as a means to that end. Theft isn't protest. It's theft. Adding criminal activity to protest weakens the message and muddies the intent."

"That's your privilege speaking. Check your privilege, brah."

Perhaps it is my privilege speaking. The problem with his use of the charge is that, whether it is my privilege speaking or not, that fact has little to nothing to do with whether or not my statements are true or valuable.

The problem lies in the obvious lack of guilt I have for any privilege I may have. That's what really pisses some folks off. I'm not tribal by nature and thus accept no part of responsibility for things white people do or have done in the past.

This is not an endorsement of slavery nor a dismissal of its impact today. Not an endorsement of misogyny nor a dismissal of its presence today. It is, as they say, my lived experience.

My lack of guilt over my whiteness is not an absence of empathy. It is likewise not a refusal to acknowledge a certain amount of privilege I have had, unearned as they say, in my life. To the question "I Acknowledge My White Privilege, Now What?" I've found the answers to be fundamentally confusing, semi-religious, and amount to "You Should Feel Really Shitty About It."

It’s possible to recognize that in-your-face racism exists in the United States and to also believe that the “white privilege” framework is misleading and a counterproductive way to discuss it among intelligent humans. In fact, the harder the DiAngelo model of self flagellation is pushed, the less traction for actually finding meaningful solutions to racial disparities in both outcomes and equality of opportunity is gained.

Thomas Sowell summarizes the current situation this way: “If you have always believed that everyone should play by the same rules and be judged by the same standards, that would have gotten you labeled a radical 60 years ago, a liberal 30 years ago and a racist today.”

The whole “white privilege” polemic inevitably butts up against the fact that many white people cannot be described as privileged in any way: these are poor, uneducated, struggling Americans at the bottom of the society. And it really pisses them off to be told how privileged they are when they can't even afford to take their kids to a doctor or move to a better neighborhood.

Under tried-and-true, full-on white supremacy, being white provides benefits with no regard for class disadvantage. White trash in the Jim Crow South still had social capitol over a black professional. He could push blacks around with impunity and over whom he would almost always be favored by cops, courts, and public officials. To ignore that, in 2021, we have significantly progressed past that state of mind is to pretend we're still living in a Cool Hand Luke world.

How does white privilege deal with class impediment? As the resource page on “Whiteness” at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African-American History and Culture puts it: “Being white does not mean you haven’t experienced hardships or oppression. Being white does mean you have not faced hardships or oppression based on the color of your skin.” 

I'd argue that no one should face hardships or oppression based on the color of their skin. Or for their gender identity. Or for their cultural background. Or for their religion. Pretty much, I'm against oppression in general and hardship is just the way of the fucking world regardless of how one identifies.

I'd also argue that as racism and the hatefulness of white supremacy decreases every year it is important for the racism industry to discover more and more strains of racism each year that were previously considered not racism or else the racism industry will go bankrupt. I mean, there's a lot of cash in writing books about racism, in the implicit bias business, in the constant drumbeating of racial animus.

Lose the white guilt over privilege and the sins of the past and the wellspring of money dries up. I'm 100% in favor of black-owned businesses but I wouldn't dine at a restaurant with a requirement that I lash myself with a tiny whip in order to get a table because of my lack of melanin.

Glenn Loury made an interesting point about this recently. Yes, at some point in the not-too-distant future, white people will cease to be the majority in America. But white people will still be by far the largest minority. If 49% of people are white and, say, 15% of people are black, how does anyone imagine this race war is going to work out?

But this ignores a much more important point; “white people” aren’t ganging together to maintain some mysterious power over black people. If that were really happening, white people would easily overwhelm everybody else by sheer weight of numbers.

There are white racists in the corridors of power. Agreed. Some of them are actively trying to keep black people down. Absolutely. None of them are exercising their "whiteness" by smiling at black people in Whole Foods but DiAngelo would have us believe differently:

"I have heard Black people talk about the awkwardness of white people 'over-smiling. A friend described going to Whole Foods and feeling exhausted by the pressure to validate all of the over-solicitous white people making a point of smiling at her when she just wanted to get her errands done and get home.

She understood that the act was meant to convey acceptance and approval, but what it actually conveyed to her was a way for white people to maintain moral integrity in the face of racial anxiety. Over-smiling allows white people to mask an anti-Blackness that is foundational to our very existence as white. Our fleeting benevolence has no relation to how Black people are actually undermined in white spaces. 

Some Black friends have told me that they prefer open hostility to niceness. They understand open hostility and can protect themselves as needed. But the deception of niceness adds a confusing layer that makes it difficult to decipher trustworthy allyship from disingenuous white liberalism. Niceness masks controversy and suppresses difference."—Robin DiAngelo, Nice Racism: How Progressive White People Perpetuate Racial Harm (2021)

If smiling at black people is a mask for anti-black racism, well, there simply isn't a cure is there? What a game of race-baiting grift to define a heinous but completely normal trait in most humans (fear and distrust of the Other) as indelibly owned by one skin color and inked in their souls in the same mystical manner as original sin.

The question at the heart of my persistent inquiry is this: what does this paradigm created on the back end of legit Critical Race Theory by shysters like DiAngelo and Kendi do to repair the relationship between our cultural differences? From my vantage, it repairs nothing and divides us up even more, effectively turning the clock back to a much darker time.

As I say, I acknowledge my privilege and bias and have no shame for it as these things are beyond my control. I cannot and will not accept responsibility for any of my ancestors who owned slaves any more than I accept sentencing for the crimes of the Dalton Gang (which, I'm told, I am related). 

I can, however, ignore the noise of public call out and simply do what I can in my daily grind to perpetuate a Universal Ethics that posits we are all exactly the same and until we start treating each other as such, we'll remain perpetually locked into these culture wars at the expense of forward momentum.

Everybody counts or nobody counts.

[noonachronicles]

Books

Kim Namjoon/Rapmon X Reader

Just a short Namjoon fluff that I’ve had l sitting around because I feel bad it’s taking so long for me to update literally anything. 

It was her favorite smell. Yellowed pages of paper mixed with the aging glue that bound them together and the old ink that shared their stories. Books brought her comfort and helped her escape from pain. She looked to her left and then to her right, making sure she was alone before bringing the book to her nose. She closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply, taking in the years this particular book had been through. Her exhale was a satisfied sigh. Behind her there was snicker. With a gasp she turned quickly, hitting her back against the bookshelf.

“I didn't know you were there.” She said trying not to wince from the book that had jabbed her.

The blond boy looked up at her through big almond eyes that absolutely took her breath away. His plump, pink lips were in a smirk. In an instant she wanted to kiss those lips, an urge that had never come to her so quickly before. An urge she would find later she could not escape.

“I just thought it was funny because I do the same thing.” He smiled.

“Oh, wow.”

“What?” He said looking at her curiously.

She blushed not having meant to say that outloud. “It’s just… you have the most amazing dimples.”

His dimples deepened with his smile and he bit his lip. “Do you want… I'd like to show you my favorite book.”

She nodded enthusiastically and followed him through the bookstore. The store was so quiet and deserted that she wondered if he could hear her racing heart. Walking behind him allowed her to take in his broad shoulders that were covered by a loose fitting, oversized gray sweater. The cut of the neckline was wide enough that she could see the smooth tan curve of where his long neck met his shoulders. Suddenly he stopped and she almost collided with him because she'd been too distracted.

He lifted himself to his toes and stretched his arm up to the top shelf and grabbed a thick leather bound book. When he brought it down he smiled at it fondly as if seeing an old friend for the first time in a long time.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, fondly, and looked over at her. “Close your eyes.”

Trusting this stranger completely she did just that and smile spread over her lips. He opened the book to the very center and lifted it up to her nose. She hummed with delight as she breathed in the pages.

“It's beautiful.”

“It's the oldest book he has here.”

“If it's your favorite, why don't you buy it?” She mused as he slipped it back into its place.

“Then no one else would be able to enjoy it.”

“What if one day someone else buys it?”

He leaned in close to her ear, “I would find another favorite, but don't tell her that.”

She turned her face to press her warm cheek against the cool glass of the window. The tink-tink-tink of raindrops calming every inch of her. One hand kept her book open in front of her, the other one running her fingers through Namjoon’s hair as he laid his head on her lap with a book outstretched above him. He laughed lightly at something he'd read and she looked down at his beautiful face, the one she had become so accustomed to. His big round glasses frames took up the top of his face, but his emotions were always in his mouth. The bite of a lip here, a smirk there, one of his deadly dimple bringing smiles. His pout and the simple thin line they made when he was angry. She knew all about those lips. The ones she had wanted to kiss as soon as she saw them and her brain had not steered her wrong. His kisses were magic. The same magic of her books. Healing the pain and filling her with comfort.

“Joonie”

“Hmm?” He kept his eyes on his book.

“I love you.” That was the first time either of them had said it.

He placed his book over his chest and looked up at her, “Jagiya, what do you want to do today?”

“Just this.” She said, “You and me and the books and the rain.”

“Ok.” He said lifting his book back over his face nonchalantly.

She didn't need for him to say it back. She repeated that in her head like a mantra to keep any tears from building up in her eyes. She steadied her breath and looked back at her book, not reading a single word. She's never felt so vulnerable, never felt like such a mess.

“Hey, jagi?” She looked down at Namjoon with glossy eyes as he peeked at her from under his book, “I love you too. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm.” She nodded happily. “Of course.”

He sat up next to her on the seat of the window nook. He took in her form as it drowned in the oversized gray sweater she stole from him the second she got the chance. Nothing was visible except for the fingers that held her book and her bare legs that were kicked up on a footrest.

“Kiss me.”

“Why?” She chuckled pretending she was still reading her book.

“Because I love you and you love me.”

She put her book down on the footrest and pulled her legs beneath her and sticking her lips out cutely. He grabbed both of her cheeks with his large hands and pulled her lips to his. She giggled into the kiss and it made him love her even more.

“Take off my sweater.” He said pulling away from the kiss.

She tilted her head curiously, “Why?”

“Are you going to question me all day or are you going to trust me?”

She grabbed the hem of the sweater and pulled it over her head to reveal nothing but her cotton underwear beneath. He grabbed her hand and directed her to scoot closer. She moved so that she straddled his lap. It was not the first time he'd seen her nearly naked but she still blushed at the way his eyes never left her face, despite the distractions that sat bare and in his eyeline.

He wrapped his arms under her thighs and stood up. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly.

“Namjoon!”

“Trust me, would you?” He laughed carrying her down the hallway to the bedroom.

“But I’m almost finished with my book!” she feigned a whine.

He bounced her in his arms to hear her squeal, “It will still be there when I’m done with you.”

Namjoon’s tongue stuck cutely out of the side of his mouth as he focused on looping a hair tie over her hair creating a sloppy bun. She leaned over the edge of the tub when he was finished and grabbed the book they had been working on together. She lifted it over her shoulder to him but he refused it.

“Actually, I was hoping you might read tonight.” he said with his hands on her shoulders.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a pout. “You know I love when you read the ones in English, Joonie.”

“I know, but please, humor me? Just for tonight.” he begged.

With a sigh she leaned back against his chest, the only thing between them was a thin layer of soapy water. She let book open to the page with gold tassel they’d been using as a bookmark and let out a gasp.

“Joonie,” her voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Is this…?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“Kim Nam Joon.” she said sternly.

“Yes, jagi. Yes it is what you think it is. Yes, I want to know if you will marry me.”

“Oh,” she said simply as her lip trembled. Namjoon grabbed the book from her shaking hand and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured into her hair.

“I’m so happy.” she sniffed and then looked for the book realizing it wasn’t in her hand anymore. “Hey, give me my ring.”

Chuckling Namjoon grabbed the tassel out of the book and let it hang before her. A silver band with a humble but beautiful diamond dangled from the end. She slipped the ring on her finger and leaned back against his chest again pulling his arms over her shoulders like a sweater.

“You love me.” she teased happily.

“Very much.” he kissed her head again and grabbed their book.

He read to her until the candles that were lit around the bathroom had burned down to nothing and the water surrounding them was slightly cold. Some of the time she held the book for him as he read, the other part of the time she slipped her fingers into his free hand and admired how well they fit together. When their hands got pruny from the water she imagined that’s what their hands would look like together years from now and her heart filled with pure joy.

Namjoon knew very well she wasn’t paying attention to what he was reading, but he continued on regardless. He knew that she would come back to the book later and reread the pages she had been daydreaming through. She did it all the time, even if she would never admit it to him. He liked that she did it because he knew that when she daydreamed it was of him, of them, and he couldn’t fault her for that.    

She sat in the rocking chair watching his hair fall over the tops of his glasses. He needed a haircut. He was leaning against the headboard a book open in his hand.

He read aloud, “Finally the prince burst through the thickets of the forbidden forest, mere steps away from the castle. He ran. His lungs burning, begging for air as he made his way to the castle doors.

Throwing the doors open to the great hall he cried, ’Princess, I'm here! I'm here to save you.’

But he was too late-”

A tiny gasp escaped the lips of Namjoon’s main audience, her small hand clutching at his forearm making his dimples grow deep with a smile, “Minhee, you know what happens, why are you acting so surprised?”

The little girl with her father's eyes and her mother's soft brown curls, looked up at him shyly, “Appa, you say it scary.”

“Oh, I'm sorry angel. I'll say it differently next time.”

“No!” She whined, “that's what makes it good.”

“Ok,” he chuckled and kissed the crown of her head before he continued reading, “As the prince looked around the quiet hall he noticed all of the destruction. Tapestries ripped from the walls, bricks and beams fallen on the ground. In the center of the great hall laid the giant beast, slain. Standing atop his stilled chest was the princess. Her silk dress slashed in pieces and splattered in the black blood of the monster. The infamous sword, with its golden and ruby hilt, clutched in her hand. Silently he bowed before her, the truest warrior.”

“You can stop there.” The little girl announced and tucked herself in under her blanket.

“The story's not over yet.”

“I know.” She smiled happily.

“There's still the part where the prince tells her he loves her and their big royal wedding...and the happily ever after.”

“I know, appa.”

He looked up at his beautiful wife as she smiled at the pair of them, “She's growing up too quickly.”

“I know.” his wife smirked cheekily and Minhee giggled under her blankets.

“Aish, little one! Close your eyes it's time for bed.” Their little girl squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips waiting for her good night kisses.

Namjoon gave her several quick kisses and then turned to his wife who was now by his side. He reached his arms up and took the small bundle from her arms.

“Switch!” She said and bounced on the small bed attacking her daughter with kisses. Minhee squeaked with delight, twisting and kicking under the blankets as she was tickled.

The newborn bundle in Namjoon's arms squirmed slightly at the noise so he brought him into the next room so that his two favorite girls could play. Placing his baby boy in the crib he sat on the edge of the bed and then laid back against the cool sheets.

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep. He didn't mean to. He was just going to rest his eyes. When he woke up later it was early morning and she had tucked herself under his arm at the end of the bed and had thrown a blanket over the two of them. As carefully as he could he picked her up in his arms and brought her to the head of the bed, tucking her legs beneath the comforter.

Before he was able to slip back into bed himself there was a stirring in the crib. He picked up his woken son and fed and changed him. Namjoon brought him into the living room, sat on the couch with the little one resting against his chest and pulled up a book from the table, and began to read to him.