#it goes such a long way with her bc she recognizes the effort and the intent behind it

[tvrningout-a]

DASH GAMES | how do you best like to be loved?

write me your words of wonder

you want to be thought of with intent, for someone to sit down and want to share their thoughts with you specifically. and their thoughts about you, even more. for someone to know you, or at least desire the knowledge. for them to write it out in a way that you can read as quickly or slowly as you desire. that you can reread again and again, or lock in a box and never read after that first quick consumption. you crave that tangibility, and the small moments that lead up to the letter being in your hand. to be told, " it's in the mail, " and then to have the simple joy of checking the mailbox to see if it has come today. to hold the envelope and feel the love within. there is a purpose of intent within physically written words, and it patches the parts of you that feel like you aren't worth thinking about. my darling, know that you are. you are worth intentional thought and cursive letters and an envelope sealed with a kiss.

tagged by: it's been a while asdf but i'm pretty sure it was either @vonerde or @foxborn! tagging: @sozokami @barrenstars @mythcaels @shealfa @solivcgant @killedarlings @resolutepath @yasashiiku @xenjoyedthat @avaere @fanaticist @viciousbite @petalbound @fem1ninity @hehosts @thrupaint @trattcria @coiins @never-surrender, and literally anybody else who wants to do this!!

[owengrose]

Blacknatural

I've been rewriting and recasting Blacknatural in my head so here's the updated cast + storylines. Some of these casting decisions have fundamental story changes, but some of them don't have to change at all (gee it's almost like Black people are just as capable of representing the human experience as white people..........)

Mary Campbell Winchester: Nicole Beharie

Mary comes from a long line of hunters who balance hunting and living a life by operating more as defenders than hunters. They never seek out threats, they only defend their community against monsters that do harm. She's good at what she does and loves doing it. When she announces she's marrying John Winchester, a white man her parents have never met who actively enlisted to fight in Iraq, they're understandably against it. She's constantly self-sabotaging the relationship bc "something" is telling her it's not right (it's her free will resisting the Cupid match with everything she's got). The night of the fire, she's finally gathered up the ability to leave them. Sam cries and she goes to comfort her one last time (she does love them even if she never wants them and can't be maternal) and that's when the fire strikes. When she comes back, it’s like no time has passed for her but suddenly her children are adults. She tries to be their mom again, thinking it might be easier since they’re grown, but they still want and expect things from her that she can’t give, so she strikes out on her own again.

When she learns she and John were a Cupid match, she’s both angry that she wasn’t given any agency in her life and relieved that she wasn’t the one who fucked up her life with bad choices.

Dean Winchester: Keiynan Lonsdale

His only frame of reference for masculinity is the middle-class white masculinity shown on motel cable TV and the movies they snuck into (man cave, cars, objectifying women, beer, physical strength, etc). His performance of this + skill at hunting attracted something close enough to approval from John, and raised no eyebrows from almost anyone else, so it let him fly under the radar. But he's cultivated this performance so thoroughly that he's not even sure there is an authentic self underneath it.

Sam Winchester: Storm Reid

Sam has struggled her whole life with other's perceptions of her. The siblings' upbringing is seen by others as very white trash, but she obviously doesn't neatly fit into that category. But being raised by John, who made no effort to celebrate or even recognize their Blackness, gave her no connection to her own Blackness to draw on. At Stanford, she double majors in pre-law and African-American Studies, joins the BSU, and does everything she can to make her narrative #BlackExcellence despite constantly feeling like an imposter. Her dating Jess, a white girl, doesn't make that much easier. She and Jess are a Cupid match, though we don't find this out until later.

Mirroring Mary, she doesn't have a maternal bone in her body. When she's suddenly left with Kevin when Dean and Cas get sent to Purgatory, she does her best but is struggling and resentful the whole time. When Kevin is taken by Crowley, she's secretly relieved and makes no effort to rescue him. The guilt of this haunts her for the rest of the show, even though she's fully aware that she would do it again if she had the chance to do it over. Because of this, she isn't resentful of resurrected Mary being unable/unwilling to be a mother to them the same way Dean is.

Rufus Turner: Steven Williams

Rather than leaving the kids with Bobby, John would instead leave them with Rufus, with Bobby instead being a fellow hunter that Rufus knows (essentially flipping their roles narratively). Rufus and John didn't get along, with John devaluing his years of experience and dismissing his approach to hunting as focusing on defending his town of Greenwood, Mississippi (similar to the Campbell family). With this ideology, he would take the kids hunting for animals rather than monsters, and did his best to plant the idea in them that the only supernatural beings that need to be hunted are the ones actively causing harm, encouraging them not to "chase trouble". While he would never send them out on hunts across the country, he would assist them with advice, resources, and fake FBI verification whenever asked. He also gave both of them The Talk about police, since John didn't know or care to.

Castiel: DeRon Horton

Compounding his difficulty in understanding and interacting with humans is the added layer of racism. White people are less forthcoming at best and outright hostile at worst. When interacting with Black people, he misses most if not all of the cultural references and understandings they expect him to have. (Someone tries to dap him up. This does not go well for him.) This also strains his relationship with Claire; he looks like her father but has no context for family in-jokes and stories, Black cultural references and understandings, or American references.

Because he has no context for these references, but recognizes that they seem to be important, he looks up every reference that someone makes that he misses. Sam is the only person who will explain a reference to him, having had to do the same thing to try and fit in at Stanford.

Eileen Leahy: Treshelle Edmond

Being a Black Deaf lesbian hunter has made her used to taking care of herself, being either infantilized or disregarded by most in whatever situation she finds herself in. Not only is she excellent at taking care of herself, she knows that even the most well-meaning people cannot take care of her as well as she can. Sam's instinct to respect her skill and defer to her understanding makes Eileen feel finally seen, and is why Sam's attempts at being protective feel so smothering to her. They're both independent people who come together by choice, not by necessity. She's thrown by the revelation of Chuck's interference because it calls into question whether she's done so well because of her own merit, or because of his interference. It also means that every fucked-up thing she's endured hasn't been from the random chaos of life, which she can understand and accept, but has instead been deliberate decisions caused by yet another person in a position of power who decided their narrative was more important than her own autonomy.

Rowena Mcleod: Dominique Jackson

Condemned to death by the British for practicing Obeah, which they called witchcraft and devilry, she was able to escape and survive through a mix of cunning and magic. She aimed to survive and thrive despite the colonizers running rampant through her country, and viewed Crowley as an obstacle to that and so abandoned him. As she and Sam bond, she helps her tap back into the abilities that were there that the demon blood enhanced. As Sam, still wrestling with ideas of purity regarding human and non-human, struggles with this, Rowena points out that ideas of purity like that are colonial philosophies. It is pure because it is innate to her, denying it is the real impurity.

Adam Milligan: Jaboukie Young-White

Azazel/Yellow Eyes: Lakeith Stanfield

@daalcuntynatural and I talked about this before. He just has an otherworldly and unsettling vibe that makes him absolutely perfect.

Mr. Tran: Osric Chau

Mr. Tran is a devoted single father to high school student Kevin Tran. Unlike John, Mr. Tran goes out of his way to celebrate Kevin's dual heritage. Kevin's mom passed away when Kevin was a baby due to complications from birth that the hospital staff didn't take seriously. Because of this, Mr. Tran is a bit overprotective because he is very aware that people will not always take Kevin's concerns and struggles as seriously as they deserve. Kevin, in turn, pushes himself very hard (too hard) because he doesn't want all of his father's hard work to be for nothing.

Osric was done so dirty on this show (killed off over and over), and deserves the opportunity to have some fucking dignity.

[eliteseven]

In the modern AU, we know that Tav falls for Shadowheart because she was initially a fan of hers after her hearing her record and later grew to love Shadowheart as a person, her demeanor and then there’s the physical attraction. A lot of it was from Tav’s POV but I would love to hear some of Shadowheart’s POV too! Her attraction towards Tav (how it came to be, was it all just physical attraction? Tav also literally gives a big part of her Shadowheart in a form of a slip of paper) and especially that jealousy bit when Tav was introduced to Alfira by Isobel 🙂

Next chapter should answer much of these questions from Shadowheart’s perspective, too! 🥰

I put my thoughts on this below!

Spoilers for Consonance in its entirety here!!

I think Shadowheart was initially attracted to Tav physically. She’s pretty, she plays guitar insanely well, what’s not to like? When Shadowheart critiques her playing for the first time, and Tav snaps back at her? She liked it. They also make phenomenal music together- which is a deep, intimate way to connect without ever uttering a word!

Then they get to bond. The night at the Last Light is a milestone; Shadowheart opens up for the first time (albeit drunkenly). She doesn’t know why she feels so comfortable divulging that info to Tav- she just does. Tav goes onto be a complete sweetheart and offers to take her home. It feels like a date. Shadowheart is incredibly attracted to her already- but Tav giving her the jacket???? She’s not used to that kind of affection, especially from a lover 💔 she’s not used to someone genuinely being so considerate and thoughtful- yes, Tav is attracted to her- but that’s not why she’s nice. She’s just…good. 🥹Shadowheart has trauma. She’s not accustomed to that kindness, that adoration. Shar was…destructive. Violent, even.

She’s scared and excited, she’s hoping Tav will come by again. And she does, just…at a really terrible time. It kills Shadowheart to act disinterested, but Shar is DEFINITELY eavesdropping. So she pushes Tav away, hoping to protect her. When Isobel hooks up Tav and Alfira??? Of course she’s heartbroken and petty as fuck about it. She knows that’s her childhood best friend (Isobel💕) fucking with her! She knows exactly what Isobel is planning and yet she can’t stand to see Tav almost kissing another woman!!! It’s frustrating!! By this point- she’s moved into her parents’ home and spends her days gushing about “Serena” to them. (That’s why Emmeline calls Tav her “wife”- she’s confused on the details but recognizes Tav from Shadowheart’s incessant pining 🤭)

But Shadowheart really falls for Tav when she makes the effort to show up with a toolbox she just bought 😅 (Tav is not very handy but she wants to be helpful), and shows up with Emmeline’s fave breakfast, without being asked, bc she just wanted to help. She saw them going through a tough time and just…stepped up. Shadowheart is madly in love with this woman. No one cares like Tav. Even in the face of losing the band- Tav just wants to spend time with her and her parents 🥰 The “slip of paper” at the end??? Shadowheart is beyond touched- but she fell for Tav long before that.

Shadowheart has been lonely since Shar. Shar, like a lot of abusive partners, isolated her- from her friends, her family, her happiness. Tav is the opposite. Tav brings her back to life, helps anchor her to her band, her friends, her family. And Shadowheart wants nothing more than to return the favor and give Tav a family of her own 😭❤️ and boy, will she.

[geniemillies]

Yearning For Spring | Ch. 7 | Tamlin x Oc

◇ — Chapter 7 - I Want To Live

A/n: Sorry I took so long, the world conspires against me. I cannot get anything done. But- Velaria's POV the whole chappy. As promised, some explanations after chap4. I enjoy writing her 🫶 Also a sprinkle of Hybern world-building bc I may or may not be obsessed with making stuff up about the place 🧍🏻‍♀️

✧ masterlist

<<Ch.1 <<Ch.6 ||◇|| Ch.8>>

Velaria || Flashback ||

It wasn't my choice to stay in Hybern. At first.

That night at the Illyrian camps will forever be seared into my memory. I remember how the thick air hung heavy with the acrid stench of fire and blood – my mother's blood, as her screams echoed in my head, desperately begging me to flee and save myself. I'll never forget feeling powerless, hearing her cry for me as he took her wings. Even when I was barely conscious I heard it.

And I keep hearing it from time to time when nightmares find me in my sleep.

I remember being so sure that I'd never wake up again.

But I did. I woke up with my wounds healed, my wings still on my back, in a place I didn't recognize. I woke up in a room with my bed surrounded by little children all too eager to see me well and awake. And I've never been more confused.

The Lighthouse, they call the place.

Then she came through the doors like a ghost in midnight, her silver hair caught in intricate braids, her eyes a deep shade of blood red. When I first saw her, I might've thought she was the most beautiful thing I've ever set my eyes on. Like the pale moonlight rising above the dimly lit dusk, she seemed to light up the room when she appeared.

Mother, they called her. Yet none of the children glowed the same. She introduced herself as Niamh and told me I was to stay in Hybern until it was safe enough for me to return to Prythian.

Hybern. I've been brought to Hybern of all places. Then I was sure I was set on an even worse fate than I'd ever imagined.

I cried, complained, and begged her to bring me back home immediately. I was so ready to fight her and escape the place if not for my damaged wings still healing. I was certain the children were slaves or brainwashed because Hybern is not a place for them to flourish. I saw them, their frail tiny wrists encircled by golden cuffs they said were unremovable. I was certain that she had them in some sort of trance and the place concealed sinister secrets yet to be exposed.

Surely…

So it shook me to my core to see them just wandering the place and playing in the courtyard. Like.. normal children. The female in charge of the house comes and goes and to my horrified surprise, whenever she is present at the house, she either does nothing but sit and sip tea all day or cook for the children. Like the House of Wind, the place did not have servants. Instead, they have her handling everything.

She did not speak to me at first, perhaps because I gave her the impression that I didn't wish to talk to her unless it was to discuss my return to Night. The children spoke to me. They were very well-mannered and overly curious about Prythian so I told them about the Night Court all the while they listened in awe to my stories. The elder children handled the chores when the female was away, serving as the responsible older siblings for the younger ones.

When I asked them about the seraphim in charge of the house they told me everything they knew and hid no secret. And the way they spoke of her.. debunked all my speculation of the female. They spoke of her not by blind devotion or controlled words but with sheer admiration and love. Familial.. love, even. They spoke about Hybern and how every third child born into a family is to be brought to the King as a gift, a sacrifice, so that they may be thrown into military training as soon as they hit the age of five if not the age they could begin to walk. She saved them from such fates. And yet, despite her efforts, she couldn't save them from the golden shackles now etched onto their wrists. They said that everyone in Hybern wore the cuffs, as children as young as infants are immediately branded by the Lady Justiciar, or whomever it was.

And now, instead of being child soldiers, they are normal children confined in a small portion of land by the southern cliffs, in a home where they're surrounded by other children they call their siblings, and a female who they could call their mother.

The oldest child living in the house was different though. Mannan. He wore no golden cuffs, nothing that binds him to the King. Instead, there is a faded symbol of a crescent moon above the pulse of his wrist. A strange birthmark, he said it was. While others were found by Niamh at an age where they could talk and speak and comprehend the world around them, Mannan was not. He told me his parents were dissenters from the territories in the North that no longer exist. He told me he was cut out from his mother's womb, his birthmother's dying wish as she begged the princess to spare her son's life and give him anything but the fate of death.

She apparently did, sparing them from the dungeons and death. But both parents died an unusual death. A respectful death, where they were buried underground at a place he calls the Sidhe. He is the only child she's raised since his birth, having cut him from the womb to save him. Maybe that's why he is more attached to her than any of the others, always by her side whenever she’s around, why he doesn't join older children who I’ve been told has left the house.

I would think it was odd if it wasn't so.. endearing in a familiar way. My mother took Cassian and Azriel in and treated them just as she cared for me and Rhys.

The children of the Lighthouse reminded me of that kind of love.

And I say ‘children’ loosely. Most are grown, maybe a few centuries younger than me save for the actual faelings recently welcomed to her home.

Often I would see her accompanied by Manann, as he would diligently prepare tea for her. Manann, along with Rhodri, has a fondness for alchemy. Dreas and Lachlan enjoy playing the piano and other instruments. Blaithin takes pleasure in sewing. Isolde is skilled in painting. Some late nights I find her with younger fae: Eimhear, Eriu, Fia, and Duna in their little.. book club? She'd even cook for them.. us. She does this thing where she can split herself into clones that do her work while she sits on a chair with a book.

Blood Witch, the children told me, was a title the entirety of Hybern apparently calls her. Save for them. The name is ironic to me. Despite wielding dark magic, she devoted her powers to performing the most mundane of tasks. Cleaning, baking..– chores.

The children are always taken with her and she makes no attempts to hide the fact that she enjoys their company. I found it strange that they loved her so much, even tried to convince myself that surely it was all a facade. At first, I thought her weird and.. strange. Intimidating. She exudes an air of confidence, a strength that seems to emanate from within. Her silence is comforting, daunting– eerie all the same. She was scentless and yet there was a faint smell of wildflowers mingling in the air around her as she goes. I rarely catch her with her hair down, her ashen blonde strands always neatly tucked and styled in one singular braid that snakes down her back or several intricate braids that tie together, often by a green fabric.

Something about her was just so strange to me.. Because she's the daughter of a tyrant King people tell stories of to scare children. And yet there she was, his spawn, taking care of children like she birthed them.

She is an enigma that never ceased to confuse me more than I'd like to admit.

And one day, I finally gathered the courage to approach her to speak. Almost a week passed when I finally decided I needed to demand to be brought back home again.

“The children say you wish to speak to me.”

“You've been ignoring me. Pretending I do not exist ever since you brought me here.”

“I'm under the impression you do not want to speak to me. So I left you be until you were ready.” She set down her cup, her entire demeanor, from her tone to her posture, embodied the dignified grace of a noble princess. “Are you ready? To ask your questions?”

I fought not to swallow the lump in my throat. It was the first time I’ve had a conversation with her since my arrival. “Does he know..?” I asked.

“Does who know?”

“The King? That I am here..?”

There was a pause as she shook her head. “No. I haven’t gone back to the palace since that night.”

"Why not?"

"We had.. a disagreement."

“How long am I to stay here..?”

“I'm still trying to find the 'permission of leave'. Until then I'm afraid we're stuck here.”

“Permission of leave? What does that mean? And what do you mean by.. we?”

“We as in I also cannot leave Hybern borders.” She flicked her wrist, her gold cuffs flashing a dull shine. “It is how the shackles work. We cannot leave. Not without permission. Permission granted in a tiny jewel, often on a ring."

My eyes narrowed at her revelation. What a horrible curse to inflict upon your own people. I knew the King was a tyrant but.. “But you are the Princess of Hybern. Surely you have authority.”

“I assure you titles hold little significance around here, for none possess the rank of King. We do not work like Prythian Courts. Our King is law and his rule is absolute. Everyone else… well, we’re merely just thralls.”

“And yet this place exists. And he remains ignorant of the children you've safeguarded here.”

“This place exists because I fought for it. And I fought for it to remain secluded from the rest of the kingdom. In Hybern, if you want something you take it by strength and force. I'm sure some of the children already explained why I own the Lighthouse now.”

They did. “You risk your life for children that aren't even yours. I don't understand your motives.”

“Does one need motives to protect children? They may not be mine. But they are still my people. Princess of Hybern I may be, but that doesn't mean I agree with our.. politics. Nor do my ideals align with my Father's.”

My eyes narrow at her words. There’s a subtle change in her expression, a slight furrowing of her brow, and a barely perceptible roll of her eyes, indicating a certain tension in her regard for the King.

“You do not get along with him?”

A brief pause fell upon us, and she shifted her weight in her chair. “Is there any daughter who gets along with her father?” She asks as if she was directly asking me the question.

I look down to my lap. “I guess not.”

I heard her stand and kneel before me, taking my hands in hers before I could get the chance to recoil. Her every gesture, from the slightest movement to the most subtle shift in her gaze, was imbued with a gentleness I still couldn't accept was real. As she took my hands, her warmth enveloped me, holding me captive with those eyes that blaze like the fires of a ruby-red sunset. A shade of red that is both brooding and resplendent. I felt like I could be at ease with her.. even when I didn't want to.

There is innocence in her movements, a kindness I never found in most fae less expect from a fae born in Hybern.

“I'm sorry for what happened to your family, and to you. It was never my intention to bring you here. Hybern is a dreadful place, I'd never wish for anyone to step foot here. But not once do I regret bringing you here to escape your horrid fate in Spring.”

I wanted to stand up and push her away, to remind myself that she was the spawn of a tyrant and she shouldn’t be trusted. And yet she’s been nothing but patient with me. She saved me, saved the children around me. I wanted to believe it was all a farce. And yet, nothing about her felt like a lie. She was unapologetically honest, sincere, laying everything bare for all to see.

“How were you there..?” I ask, tearing my eyes from hers.

“Hybern is allies with Spring's Lord. The King sent me to retrieve something. Only for a short while.” She paused, perhaps hesitating to say everything that she wanted to reveal as her face grew slightly bitter. “He lied to me.”

“You saved me.”

“I didn't. I took you. It was Tamlin who saved you. Tamlin who.." She seemed to soften. "..Could not finish the job.”

“You two are friends?”

Another notable pause. “We are.. acquainted.”

“Why did you help him?”

“You rather I let him kill you and gut out your wings?”

“No.. But you had no reason to help him. He is not your friend and neither am I. You're a foreigner princess from another land and yet you still brought me here. Is taking strays a hobby of yours?”

She released my hands as she stood, giving me room to breathe. “Perhaps. If the alternative is leaving them in worse hands, I'd rather the former. I do not take in children as a means of recompense. Nor do I take them in because I plan to brainwash them for sport or any other horrors you might think of me. And I did not take you here because I had ulterior motives or I wanted something from you.”

“What do you want?”

She paused for a moment, her response coming reluctantly like she hadn't quite formulated an answer for her reasons yet. As if saving me.. was a spontaneous decision. "I wanted," she began, her voice soft but firm, "For you… to live. Any other motive you might think of I'm afraid there's none. People of Hybern have a horrid reputation so I can understand why you may choose to mistrust me. But I am not your enemy. If you wish to leave, that is your choice. Just know that out of any authority in Hybern who will encounter you, you will find that I.. am the better alternative.”

My arms went stiff at my sides. “You threaten me?”

She answers me with a subtle shrug. “I tell only the truth. North of my small territory are the Ruins of Magh Meall. Barren lands belonging to the monsters of Hybern that lurk about, unbound to anyone, even the King. Manage to pass its borders and you'll find yourself at either N-amhrán or Saol Nua. And I assure you, none of the Bishops will take kindly to an outsider wandering about their territory.”

“Am I to be your prisoner then?”

“I bear no prisoners. Anyone who wishes to leave my house is free to do so. I give only a warning. Beyond the wards of this place, no one is safe. All the chilling tales you've heard about Hybern are truths that await. One step outside, and you will find yourself face-to-face with those brutal realities. And trust me when I say, my treatment has been infinitely kinder than what you might encounter out there..” She took a breath as she looked at me, a look of concern on her face.

“Do you not.. feel safe in my home..?”

“I didn't say that. But I don't belong here.”

“No. You don't..” She sighs.

“I will return you to the Night Court, Velaria. But I need you to know I am caged here as much as you are... My authority does not go further than Hybern borders. My place is here. I am bound to him. As we all are.” She takes my hands once more, her voice seeping with vulnerability. “I offer my sincerest apologies if you ever feel trapped here. It is not my intention to cage you.. or any of those who live under my roof. This is..”

“This is the best I could do..”

— —

Not even a day after that conversation, she finally returned to the palace after whatever squabble she had with her Father. Only to return to find out from the King that the High Lord of Spring is dead. She confirmed that my mother indeed died that night. And an attack on Spring was personally brought forth by my father in retaliation for her death. Tamlin’s family was killed. As was my father. My family.. is dead save for my brother. My brother who.. became High Lord shortly after I was brought to Hybern.

I felt the entirety of my world crashing when she told me. I couldn’t eat or sleep or bring myself to talk to anyone, not even the sweetest of children who wished to comfort me. I locked myself in the room they gave me, where meals were discreetly delivered, and comforting words were offered yet ultimately failed to soothe my heart. Then Manann told me that Niamh hadn’t returned to the Lighthouse for days, desperate to search for an excuse to be given the ring that would bring me back to the Night Court..

I cried for my father despite our strained relationship, despite I was no more than a spare, the shadow behind my brother. I cried much for my mother who snuggled beside me to pry away nightmares. And I cried for my brother who did not deserve to become High Lord with such little preparations.

At least he has Azriel and Cassian and Mor.., At least, I hoped he wasn't alone entirely.

I wasn't alone either. During the period of my mourning for my family I was surrounded by gifts and sympathy by the people of the Lighthouse. Despite being fae way younger than I, they understood my grief well as they are, well.. orphans. Either by having dissenter parents killed by the King or parents too poor and unable to provide, leaving them to fend for their own in the streets. Or they were rejected by the Lady Justiciar, who deemed them unworthy to become soldiers.

And most of all, it was Niamh who stood beside me. It was her hand behind my back, soothing me in silence as I cried. It was she who offered her greatest sympathies as held my hand and wiped my tears away. She told me she couldn't hope to understand my pain because her mother was dead long before she could even form memories and her father was evil personified. And yet she comforted me either way and fed me reassurances, promising me that she was working hard to get her hands on an excuse to have that ring.

She came and went, day after day, returning to the estate with her face riddled with regret and shame that she couldn’t convince the King to give her permission to leave.

So she tried again and again.. and again.

— —

Months passed by quickly, and she still hadn’t been able to obtain the jewel. Though sometimes, she returned to the house looking defeated– breathless, reeking of magic and chemicals unknown to me. Then she’d be locked in her study. Manann wouldn’t tell me what was wrong with her. The first secret he has tried to keep from me. But the other older children told me that the King was unkind to everyone. His own daughter was not spared from that, it seemed.

I made it my mission to pry everything out of that mysterious female. She may have treated me well but she undoubtedly had many secrets to hide. I just didn’t expect her to give them so easily. And all I had to do was ask…

“You think it will work?”

“Hm?”

“Your little rebellion. Do you think it will work?”

There, on the tower of the lighthouse that overlooked the empty sea, our legs dangling down the railings, she revealed to me her every secret.

There was a relaxed smile on her pale face as she leaned against the railings. “I can only hope.”

I couldn’t believe her, even now with her secrets known to me. Her growing rebellion. The schemes for a coup. The underground Sidhe. She’s managed to formulate such schemes away from her father’s watchful eye for years all the while serving as one of his most trusted Commanders.

The Princess of Hybern. A traitor..

Yet.. even with all that she revealed to me, she still wouldn't tell me the reason why she reeked of magic every once in a while when she returned to the house.

“What will you do when you're caught?” I figured I'd just let it go. She doesn't pry anything out of me. If her grand secrets are easy to reveal, secrets greater than even her plans to betray her father are.. darker still.

“A lot depends on me. I won’t. I worked too hard to get caught. Let alone think of the possibility.” She smiled as she looked at me.

A huff escaped me as I shook my head. “I cannot believe you're planning all this. It's.. an impossible thing.”

“If you think something is impossible, it'll remain that way. I saw the opportunity to do something and I took it.” She looks at me. “People of Hybern aren't what people say they are. Some may be cruel, vicious, angry.. But that's only because they know nothing else besides the want for war. But I assure you most of us yearn for something better than being subject to an eternity of tyranny. Most of us want a better tomorrow.. But most of us do not even know what it means to want. Children are born and they’re already burdened with a purpose. To serve and obey. And when you’re taught nothing else but those two rules how can you learn to need or want for anything else?”

My heart felt heavy at her words and something seemed to stir within me as she stared at me with those red eyes.

‘When you’re taught nothing else but those two rules how can you learn to need or want for anything else?’

I felt guilty and.. I didn’t know why.

My eyes shifted down to where I noticed her gently rubbing the smooth sheen of her golden cuff with her thumb. I find that she often does that. A nervous habit or what, I do not know..

“And then..? When the war is fought and the King is dead, what will you do?”

“I'll free my people.”

“And after? Will you assume the throne and name yourself Queen?”

There was a pause. As if she was taken aback.

"I do not wish to be Queen," she replied quietly. "I have no desire to rule."

“Then what do you want? You spend a great deal thinking about what you could do for others, so they may have something better. Freedom. A home. Someone to call mother. What do you want when it's all done and over, Niamh?”

“I..” Her gaze dropped as a soft smile touched her lips, her nail now gently scraping at the skin beside the etched gold on her wrist.

“I suppose I haven't planned that far ahead.” She admitted quietly.

The Mother herself must mourn the irony of such a situation. How could a place steeped in cruelty birth a soul as gentle as hers? I couldn't believe she was the King's blood daughter. The King is a cruel tyrant, a dark wielder, a slaver. And his commander daughter who looks nothing like him, strolls the courtyard, reads books, and plays with children in her downtime.

The apple fell so far from the rotten tree it's not an apple. It's something entirely different..

I look up at the murky night sky obscured by an eerie fog that obscures its usual beauty. Honestly, I never thought the sky could be so dull and lifeless, so void of stars to dream on.

“In the Night Court.. stars are plentiful in the night sky.”

Niamh turned her head up to look while leaning back. “I could imagine.”

“The skies are so clear that every once in a while, you can spot a shooting star up above.”

She looks at me. “Shooting star?”

I nod. “Mhm. It’s a bright trail of light that passes by quickly. When you see it, you make a wish.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the stars are sure to grant it.”

She paused, “Stars cannot grant miracles.”

“They could.” I felt myself smile even when I hadn’t intended to. “‘If you think something is impossible, it'll remain that way’, right?”

She looks at me. Then at the sky.

“There are no stars in our sky, sadly.”

“No. There are not..”

And yet, despite the fog, the soft glow of the moon defiantly glinted through the haze, casting a faint silvery light to reach us.

“There is still the moon.”

Her face falls flat. “The moon is not a star.”

“It's still bright, nonetheless. Always watching over you.” I shrugged, tipping my chin upwards. “Go on.”

“Go on what?” She looks at me confused.

“Wish.”

“I..” She looked back and forth between me and the moon once more, a clueless frown present on her face. “It is not the same.”

“Just wish. Clasp your hands like this, and close your eyes.”

Reluctantly, she did just that. Niamh set her elbows on the metal railings and looked at me as if searching for instructions. “What.. do I wish for?”

“Anything you want. It’s only for you to know. Only for the stars to answer. In this case- the moon.”

She was silent for a moment, pondering well and hard what she wanted to ask the moon for.

Then she breathed in and closed her eyes, the air was silent for a good while as she quietly wished. And I observed her face as she did, feeling my heart heavy again at the fact that she didn’t know how to wish upon stars because she had never seen them, proving that everything she said was true. People of Hybern don’t dream. Aren’t allowed to dream.

That pesky fog was most likely the King’s doing, to prevent the stars from answering dreams. To prevent there to be any dreamers at all in the first place.

It was definitely his fault. His. So how was I feeling.. remorse?

I shrug all those thoughts away when Niamh opens her eyes.

“What did you wish for..?” I asked, my voice no more than a whisper in the wind.

But she only smiled as she usually does.

“It’s only for me and the moon to know.”

— —

I never anticipated finding myself in Hybern, let alone making friends with a Hybernian princess. But I did. I stayed in Hybern for a while longer then we... became friends. I trusted her enough to show her my wings and Niamh trusted me enough to show me hers. In many ways.. she is my mirror contrast. While my wings are made of membrane, hers are fluffed with pale feathers. While I wore night black, she was bright like moonlight. I was lighthearted, entirely unserious most of the time, and Niamh.. Niamh was Niamh. She was.. almost too blunt in a very.. innocent way.

Questions were often asked. Too many questions. About the Night Court, Prythian, and the rest of the world beyond this prison she calls her kingdom. And I was skeptical of her at first, I thought she was trying to garner information to prattle to the King. Those suspicions were honestly shortlived because Niamh asks the most basic of questions that even children would know about.

‘Does it hurt when stars fall during Starfall?’ ‘What does holding them feel like?’ ‘Are they not hot? Is it not weird that there is only a line that separates Prythian Courts?’ ‘If I extend my arm to Winter while my body’s still in Autumn, would I feel hot or cold?’ ‘So do animals just hibernate all the time in the Winter Court?’ ‘There are- how many- libraries in the Day Court?!?’ ‘What’s a pumpkin?’ ‘What’s.. chili?’

And I answer all questions very seriously. Because that poor girl needs to know! And of course, I asked my fair share of questions. And more often than not, her answers were less than.. pleasant.

But she did not hide many things from me. She told me of her glamoured appearance and the mask she dons when she visits the King's castle. How, at an early age, she was forced to put a bag over her head so that the King couldn't see her mother's eyes on her face. She was instructed to glamour her hair to black so she could look more like him if not shave it off entirely so she could be an eyesore that no one would look at her. Yet, it wasn't enough and she had to put on a mask that could cover her face entirely to fit his preferences.

She managed to work around restrictions and had her masks made just for her, having them designed to fit her or Court aesthetics. Often a mask depicting a raven’s head, its surface intricately designed with traditional patterns, bedazzled with dark jewels, feathers, or chains. She has collections of masks she hides away in her study.

Those revelations often had my jaw hanging wide open. Most fathers are cruel. That much is true. Mine wasn't perfect. Mor’s father was terrible as was Azriel's and Cassian's. And once I would’ve thought those males were evil incarnate. Until Niamh told me everything about her father and surely then, he takes the title for worst father. Even better, he takes the title for being the worst person ever.. Because what kind of father is that?! Forcing a mask on such a beautiful face is crime worthy enough.. But at least she can drop the facade whenever she returns to the Lighthouse.

Still, with each story I’m told, my hatred for that wretched old male grows more and more.

She’s nothing like him.

Months passed and with my incessant pleading, I eventually managed to convince Niamh to come with her to the Palace. Maybe it was boredom from the house that drove me to ask her for something so stupid, but another part of me wanted to see for myself the very heart of the kingdom. So she did, she took me and glamoured my appearance to make me look like a servant, a shadow behind her at all times.

She showed me how the place worked, how the Court functioned. Everything reminded me a lot of Hewn City but infinitely more.. dreadful. The servants appeared almost devoid of individuality, compelled to carry out orders without question. But whenever we crossed paths with them, there was a spark of hope in their eyes as they regarded Niamh. Princess, they call her, her title whispered like a desperate prayer. Some come to her for protection in secret and she tries her best to help them whenever she can. Treating their wounds or punishing their abusers behind closed walls then erasing their minds, willing them to act differently. Yet not even her acts of kindness are remembered. Most of the time, she is compelled to erase them from people’s memories.

Because the King abhors compassion taking root in any of his subjects. Especially Niamh. Not a word of her compassion, not even a whisper, not even a mere thought can be allowed to circulate because the palace crawls with daemati..

So during my visit, I had to keep my mental shields in check just as Rhysand taught me. Even then, I feel my mind protected by a magic greater than my own. Niamh had me shielded the whole time.

It wasn't difficult to notice that the King failed to make an appearance at court whenever they held meetings that overlooked military and economic concerns. He cannot be bothered, I guess.. Instead of him, it is Niamh who sits at the head of the table, and.. sometimes, it is she who sits on the throne. Much to Amarantha's dismay. I realized early on that the two have a rivalry so intense they cannot stand to be in the same room as each other. So intense that Amarantha's presence alone was a key factor in why Niamh moved out of the palace in the first place. To the other side of the island.

Besides Amarantha and the eerie-looking Lady Justiciar.. the Court held Niamh in high esteem, listening intently to her words and heeding her commands like puppies would their owners. They.. rely on her. Almost desperately. Like she's the sole cog of a rusty old machine, holding it all together because the actual sovereign is too busy nerding out in his dark towers doing Mother knows what. I stood watch during one or two of those council meetings and found myself admiring Niamh's confidence. How she seemed to have solution to everything even when others deemed it questionable.

I admire the very air she carries around her when she walks and people bow their heads in reverence.

Less out of fear. But more of awe and respect.

Niamh often reminds me of my Father in Hewn City. How admired he was amongst his people. How he thrives when he rules a place like that. Niamh is very much the same.

When she sits on that throne.. she's the very image of a Queen the people seem to crave for. And she says she has no desire to rule...

But my view of that respect and admiration for her turned differently one day. Because people did not only respect and admire her.

They pitied her. Like they pitied themselves.

— —

“Your Grace!!” A veiled servant just as I came running to us while Niamh was showing me through a tapestry hall.

It was my third visit to the palace. It was a miracle that I blended right in thanks to Niamh's glamours.

“What is it.”

“There is.. a problem. In the throne room. Princess Brannagh and Prince Dagdan have.. taken stage.”

Niamh stiffened. Even with the mask, I could tell her face was one of dread. Because her immediate reaction was followed by her wrists where gold and skin met beneath her gloves.

“A fault in a mission at the Black Lands. Failed to persuade the Queen or so I've been told. I thought you may want to know–”

“Thank you for telling me.” Then she turned to me, the hollow eyes of the mask boring into my soul. “You have to go. Iole, take my servant and keep her in a room, far, far away from the throne room. I'll retrieve her once I'm done.”

“Yes, my Princess.” The servant bows.

“Niamh, wait—” But I couldn’t even speak as she held her hand in front of my veiled face.

“You. Stay. I've shown you enough horrors. You will not see this one. Stay with Iole.” She commanded me with a voice she's only ever used with her courtiers.

When she left me with that servant, I felt my heart race as it sunk in my chest. The air felt so heavy, so ominous in that palace without her beside me.

She had promised to show me everything and yet she couldn't show me.. that. There was a pit inside my stomach. A part of me was scared to know what she so desperately wanted me not to find out.

But I couldn't stay put. I couldn't. And so that night..

That night…

I finally found out the reason why she covered her arms with gloves, why her hands were ash and black beneath the silk fabric.

The atrocities in Hewn City could not compare to his twisted experiments. Not even a fraction of his cruelty has been properly represented in the stories I've heard of him. And I watched, in frozen agony as my friend screamed in pain at the center of the throne room with every court member present. They watched with hidden terror the horrors done to her, as every vial of glowing liquid was injected into her veins while she cried, screamed and clawed at the floor until her nails ripped and broke and the black of her skin extended further up her arms.

It was her cousins’ mistake, a fault on a mission I wasn't privy to. She took the blame and their punishment. And as I looked around in hopes that someone, anyone, would dare help her off the floor no one moved. No one flinched, but their eyes were bloodshot and guilty. It is not the first time this has happened. And besides shame and remorse, there is something else that plagued their hearts. It is fear. And it ate them inside out.

They stood watch as the princess they respected was mutilated on the floor, vials of glowing liquid injected into her veins, tearing at her mind and body, transforming her, changing her. Yet she willed herself to persevere through it all.

Even Amarantha, as cruel and despicable as she was, couldn't suppress a wince as she watched. For all the evil she harbored, it was clear that even she had once been in Niamh’s place. In front of the dais.

Everyone has.

His experiments extend to all. And not everyone survives the results. Some are mutilated, turned to stone. Some simply become husks of themselves. And some are transformed into the Attor, if they're lucky..

It was not just awe and respect. Not just reverence or fear that made them bow their heads to her. In many ways, they are the same. Equal under the King’s thumb, all potential targets for his heartless cruelty. The respect shown to Niamh was a mixture of admiration and understanding born from shared suffering.

I am told it's not the first time she’s shielded them. Not the first time she protected her people from experiments by taking them herself.

Even with all that she endured, with those dark roots and veins growing up her arms, willing to corrupt her.. she perseveres. She survived where most crumbled and broke. Another reason why they bow when she walks by..

And when it was all over she stood on her trembling feet with her head held high. Despite her cries and screams that echoed just moments before, she makes a spectacle of herself willingly, unrelenting even in her own pool of blood, her uncovered face showing the very image of triumph as the black roots spread ever so slowly up her arms.

The King seemed to revel in the sight of his daughter victorious like that. There, in front of his throne of bones, he stood, a twisted smile wide on his face. Pleased. Proud. As if there was joy to be had to watch Niamh in agony just for the sick pleasure of watching her fight through it.. I fucking hate him. He’s a monster. And I could’ve sworn, I wanted to throw my dagger to his face then and there. I was so close that I felt the hilt hot around my fist.

He didn’t offer servants to help her get cleaned. He didn’t as much as walk to her to see if she was well. He just stood there, praising her for enduring, his voice was loud, echoing against walls as he boasted about his greatness for he and his power are on the path to create perfection itself in Niamh.

His pride and ego blind to the fact that while he spoke, everyone eyed him with hatred, a hidden grudge held inside everyone’s hearts.

And when I looked at Niamh, I wanted to run to her, hug her, offer her something to cover up- anything. But the intensity of those scarlet eyes made me feel compelled to stay in place. To watch just as everyone did. And for a moment, I might’ve understood the reason for her sacrifices..

Her eyes were determined, filled with purpose yet desperate all the same. She’s willing to sacrifice herself to inspire ire within her people. Towards the male she calls her father. The monster they all called their King..

‘Feast upon the horror I've been made to be in your stead.'

'Be angry. Be angry for me.’

‘Be angry.. for yourselves.’

And it was.. working.

— —

It wasn't my choice to stay in Hybern. At first... But when an opportunity to return me back home was given to Niamh, she took it without hesitation. She stole a ring that granted permission to leave Hybern just days after that experiment. A Raven was given the jewel, to search for allies in the Continent. Niamh killed him and snatched the ring. She gave it to me and it opened a portal for me to return to the Night Court.

She told me her goodbyes and promised she'd bid farewell to the children for me. Then she hugged me and hoped that perhaps one day.. we could cross paths again and I could show her Velaris to celebrate Starfall together. Like I promised.

I.. promised. I promised her a lot of things..

When I stood before the swirling portal I felt my stomach twisting with it. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to envision my beloved city, just a mere step away, on the other side of the portal. I imagined the vast expanse of a thousand stars in the night sky, a sight I craved so desperately to see once again. I pictured my brother's familiar face, waiting to welcome me home. All the things that would make me want to leave like I always wanted. Like I planned.

So why..?

“I don't want to leave.” Those words came out of me before I even thought of them. And when I turned around I saw her faint surprise before she smiled softly.

“You would regret it if you don't leave now. I do not know when the next chance I'd get to steal one of these rings–”

“I'd regret it if I left you here.”

“I'll be fine.”

“Will you? I saw what happened in that throne room, Niamh, I saw what they do to you–”

“It does not concern you. Many suffer to entertain him. I am one of many if not thousands subjected to his experiments. You.. do not have to worry about me. I can handle it. I can handle it more than others.”

I shook my head in disbelief. This girl..

“It doesn't mean you could just volunteer yourself like that!”

Her shoulders slumped and her smile faltered slightly. “Brannagh and Dagdan are my cousins. If I don't shield them from him, any more experiments and they'll break…” she trails off. “They're the only blood family I have..”

“How many more experiments until you break?”

She smiles. “I do not break easily, Vel.”

“But you will. You will eventually and who will be there.. to catch you and piece you back together?”

“I am capable of that just fine.”

“But you don't have to!” I snapped at her and she flinched. I haven't raised my voice at her since I first came here.

“Your family needs you..” She spoke softly.

“My family thinks I'm dead!”

“Your brother. Your cousin. Azriel and Cassian. You say you miss them all the time.”

“I will miss you more if I leave now. If I leave now, I will never see you again.” My eyes stung.

“That's not true.”

It was. That's why when I asked her what she wanted to do after the war was fought she couldn't think of anything, she hadn't even allowed herself to think of anything. And something tells me that's because she couldn't see herself alive and breathing after a battle. Or Mother forbid, before it even begins. She plays a dangerous game where death lingers at every corner, waiting patiently.

She can fool her father and his court but death is just around the corner. And it cannot be fooled.

The girl before me will sacrifice herself to the very marrow of her existence until nothing is left but dust.

“I don't want to leave..” I said, my voice fading.

“You must, Velaria. You must.”

"I can't–"

"It is not worth it." I see her smiling. Smiling like everything was fine.

"It's okay, Velaria."

I shook my head again, my eyes heating up.

“You are much like my brother. Stubborn. You know nothing but sacrifice.” I hold her hand. “But unlike him, you have no support. "You shield those in your home, refusing to reveal your struggles, to protect the image they hold of you. Brave, fearless, always noble. Do not think you fool anyone. While you take care of them, who takes care of you? And don't say you're capable of doing that! I know you are! And it pisses me off that you think that's enough when you're being mutilated by your father, attending his court, raising his armies, and doing his every bidding. How much more torment could you take until you realize he's killing you slowly? And when you're dead, who will take care of the Lighthouse? The Sidhe? And how will I mourn you when the sea separates us!!”

Words elude her as she stands there, processing my words like she couldn't believe them.

Has no one shown her even a sliver of kindness in this wretched place..? A century is long. Five of them feels like a lifetime. I couldn't imagine living five centuries of torment under that tyrant's wing, enduring his every whim and wanting for nothing in return.. And I couldn't imagine my sanity, let alone my kindness to prevail through such horrors.

You are something else, Niamh of Hybern.

“Vel..”

I hugged her. “Don't push me away, Niamh.” I hugged her close and tight without the intention of ever letting go.

Stars seemed to shine in her glassy eyes when she looked at me just then. And yet, her dreams go unanswered.

“I have a thousand reasons to stay but only one matter..”

“I want you to live..”

“I want you to live so I may show you Velaris, Dawn, Day, Winter, Autumn, Summer, Spring– I want you to live because you've never.. ever.. even begun to live.”

I pull away and cup her face. Only then did she crack for the first time and a singular tear escapes her. It was the first time I had ever seen her so vulnerable, so broken and overwhelmed by even the smallest gesture of sympathy and affection. She's a soul full of love and devotion, and yet when I reciprocate she doesn't know how to handle it. In her eyes, there is a faint flicker of hope. The plucked up courage to yearn. For something more. Or anything at all.

“I want to..”

“I want to live..”

— — Present

My heart warms at the sight of her, her pallor melding with Winter's glow, her footsteps leaving trails behind her as she sank down onto the land with every move.

I want to live.

A stag nuzzles into her gloved hand, his mouth opening to bite the fruit she graciously offered. Then she petted it as it ate, her hand ever so gentle.

I want to live. Her voice rings again from that night she tried to persuade me to return to the Night Court. Her trembling voice still echoes in my head, her arms shaking beneath her gloves, like the very idea to live, was such a treasonous thought. I will forever loath the King for what he does to his subjects, to what he does to Hybernians, to his nephew and niece. And especially to his own daughter. That label alone makes me want to vomit.

He's no father of hers. There's nothing that ties Niamh to that tyrant other than blood. It means nothing.

And now I watch as she walks about the winter-covered forests with me in tow, her pace slow, snowflakes falling all around us, each unique pattern fills her eyes with pure fascination, and I couldn't help but feel happy at the sight when I've never spared much thought to the winter weather before.

Do you feel alive now, Niamh..?

It's been nearly two hundred and fifty years since my death. Two hundred and fifty years since I chose to stay with her with no affirmation that I'd ever return home to my family. And the only thing I regret about all this is not regretting leaving behind everything I've ever known.

My eyes have been opened to abuse and horrors beyond anything I've seen. The King of Hybern doesn't only enslave mortals. He enslaves fae. He enslaves his kin. No one is free from the golden shackles he binds people with. Niamh wanted to make a stand in the shadows to stop him from spreading his blight anywhere else.

And there are many like her. Hybern is a dreadful place but amongst the people who crave for nothing but blood and war, there are those who want for peace. A better ruler. People just like her who could only imagine what it's like to feel the caress of warm sunlight on their skin or the cold of freshly fallen snow. Fae who are void of any hatred but yearn to be able to want and feel and live.

People of Hybern do not dream. They are awake, living a nightmare every single second of their existence without any knowledge of how to wake up.

Hybern is a field of dead flowers with their King seeping life off of the land. Niamh often reminds me of a bird in a cage, a flower amidst hellscape. A beautiful tragedy. I admire her for her resilience, for her sheer yearning for freedom for herself and the people of Hybern. She cares a lot for them. She cares a lot to a fault. Her father may think it's a weakness but I believe it's precisely what makes her strong. So strong that it's the very force that drives her to act. Taking care of kids. Saving me- saving those Prythian children.

But even the strongest can reach their breaking point. Her cousins' fates serve as a grim reminder of the toll that unceasing torment can take and now.. there's nothing left but husks with no soul. Any more and Niamh would've suffered the same fate. The black of her arms are indication enough that she is.. wilting.

The Mother could see her now and weep, how full of hope she is even in the cold of Winter. There is child-like wonder in her as she wanders about foreign lands, animals seem to flock around her like metal to magnet. Animals she has never even seen before.

If I'd left to crawl back to the safety of Velaris when I had the chance I would've regretted it all my life. Knowing that she's suffering at the hands of that tyrant while I spend my remaining days daydreaming and waiting for war to happen.

I couldn't.. Not anymore.

We'd return to Hybern eventually and the magic will end. But even then.., just this once, I am happy that she could catch a glimpse of the world outside her cage. A glimpse of the life she's fighting for. It is worth it if only for a moment I could see her with her mind at ease, her pretty face void of troubles.

It is worth it.

And perhaps one day.. I could make a change in my own Court. Back in Velaris, I spent most of my time idling away. I never partook in any politics, never got involved in anything outside matters that concerned the city I'm named after. I was the second child, the spare, it was not required of me besides the occasional appearance here and there.

Mother often took me to the Illyrian camps. She fought tirelessly with father to make a change in the longstanding system he had inherited from his forefathers, to better the lives of Illyrian females. That's why she was always there, always looking after the camps. But what could Lady of Night really do? What authority did she really have when not even father supported her ideas?

That Illyrian female no one even chose for themselves? ‘Lesser fae.’ Only Lady of Night in name.. just because she was my Father's mate. What sway did she really have then?

I will never forgive myself for never caring even when the problem was right in front of me. How they stared at me and Mother with disdain and envy even when we were Illyrians all the same and yet.. entirely different. Because we were different. We lived in a secret City they knew nothing about. While I sang and delighted in the finest theatres of Velaris, females of Illyria were treated as mere broodmares. While I had the ability to hide my wings, they had theirs clipped and broken. While I dined in the most lavish meals in the House of Wind, my kin lived in tents and trained until they exhausted themselves into oblivion.

Mother wanted to share Velaris. Father didn't want to. And I..

I didn't care. Because I didn't care about anything at all.

When did I start caring?

Was it when my mother's wings were torn in front of me?

When I heard the tear and crack of flesh and bone? Her screams as she told me to fly away?

When mine were so close to being stripped from my back?

I accepted that there was nothing we could do for the Illyrians. Nothing to change in Hewn City. I accepted it all until the problem was right there when my wings were so close to being stolen from me when the problem was served right in front of me in Hybern. When Niamh's people reflected my own, suffering in the hands of a tyrant King who only sees people as weapons for war.

I dreamt and dreamt for menial things that didn't fucking matter when people around me suffered and I was made to think that there was nothing we could do when we held the power to change and act. To allow.. to dream.

I wanted to sing and dance at the golden theatre. I wanted to fly to my heart's content above the Sidra every midnight to see the stars sparkle in the night skies. I wanted and wanted..- and more often than not I always got what I wanted. But above all, I secretly wanted to be just like my brothers. Proud Illyrians, battle patterns inked and etched onto my skin. To wield a sword and be warriors who fly into battle.

And before I didn't think it was possible. Until Niamh showed me. And now.. now I delighted in flying into the dead of night in the haunted lands of Hybernian territories, stealing away dissenters, recruiting them, and bringing them back to the Sidhe. I shine most when I clash blades with Arin and Nimue, when I discuss schemes with Clíodhna. I find my heart race when I dig my blade into the hearts of monsters in Reaper’s Grove, when I slash the throats of Hybern Bishops.

I find it exhilarating. To be one with the shadows and night itself.. I am alive.

Now.. I find myself wanting to be just like Niamh. To bring the light of hope to those who have only known darkness.

Because Niamh is no more different than my people in Hewn City. And Hybern is no more different than the Court of Nightmares. No more different than my people in Illyria. Because of her, I grew to realize that in a land of torment, people are more inclined to dream and yearn.

I realize that now. I'm wide awake now.

I look at Niamh and see the culmination of everything she believes in, everything she's fighting for. Everything I've begun to believe and fight for. Equality. Justice. Freedom.

Her Father will wreak havoc sooner than late. And once war has subsided, I will return to the Night Court. Until then I could only hope that at least Rhysand has made changes just as our mother wanted.. I want to help and make up for everything. For my absence. For my silence. For everything I've done that made me part of the problem.

The peace ends when we hear movements in the snow from a mile away followed by an echo of a scream.

“Vel.” She utters out, her voice no more than a whisper, her head snapped towards the direction.

“On it.” I spread my wings and fly upwards to the tall dark branches of snow-covered pine trees.

And there, in the distance, I hear the horrid wail of the Naga.

— —

A/n: Oh, they are found family fr 🥺😌...kinda giggled a little at writing 'i hope rhys made some changes while I'm gone.' Girl, he's not doing anyythiiing🧍🏻‍♀️this is her wakeup call, I'm so going to make her change Night Court..😔 The girl named after the Court of Dreams is very much awake 🫣

[erabundus]

@drolliic &&. said... "Why do you refer to her like that?" it's something that's been on Ayumu's mind on and off, like a dull ache that comes and goes in waves. Her -- the Electro Archon, Raiden Ei. Like that -- mother. As far as they are aware, she never wanted ( either of ) them so why bestow such a title upon her? She's merely their creator, nothing more, nothing less. [ in part bc of this musings post, but also something I've wanted to send for a while-- ]

❝  ...  because  she  is.  ❞   the  statement  is  simple,  yet  firm.  a  staggering  amount  of  IMPLICATION  packed  into  three  words.  

he  can  recall  the  first  time  he  ever  had  the  concept  explained  to  him.  family.  motherhood.  it  was  long  after  she  abandoned  her  creation  in  a  world  he  wasn't  fit  for.  observing  the  humans  of  tatarasuna  led  to  an  endless  fountain  of  inquiries  from  the  naive  puppet  —  and  he  clung  to  the  idea  that  the  god  of  eternity  was  his  mother  as  if  in  an  effort  to  replicate  the  COMFORT  she  never  provided  him.  (  building  up  an  image  of  her  in  his  head  that  he  knew  was  unrealistic,  even  at  the  time.  )  now,  far  more  experienced  and  far  more  jaded,  the  wanderer  understands  that  she  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  only  a  parent  in  the  barest  definition  of  the  term  —  a  creator,  rather  than  the  guide  and  protector  the  role  should  logically  encapsulate.  he  is  also  equally  aware  that  she  never  had  any  intention  of  being  such  a  thing.  yet  he  still  persists,  still  continues  to  call  her  mother  nevertheless.

❝  she  wants  so  badly  to  shirk  her  RESPONSIBILITY.  ❞   the  wanderer  muses aloud.  ❝  acting  like  she  can't  bring  herself  to  do anything ...  what  a  farce.  ❞   it's  insulting,  really  —  how  she  believes  she  can  simply  toss  them  aside.  as  if  the  so-called  freedom  she's  GIFTED  them  also  washes  her  hands  clean  of  any  accountability.  he  once  sought  a  way  to  force  her  to  acknowledge  him  —  if  not  as  her  son,  then  a  THREAT  would  also  suffice.  yet  in  the  end,  she  was still  too  much  of  a  coward  to  spare  her  creation  so  much  as  a  glance.  it's  infuriating,  but  unsurprising  —  and  the  fact  that  it  doesn't  surprise  him  really  only  serves  to  irritate  him  more.  who  knew  a  deity  could  be  such  a  COWARD. ( such a HYPOCRITE. )  she  should  have  put  him  out  of  his  misery  when  she  had  the  chance.

❝  i  don't  call  her  my  mother  out  of  veneration.  ❞  any  desire  he  once  had  to  be  a  family  has  burnt  to  ash  alongside  his  innocence.  there  is  too  much  pain,  too  much  misery,  too  much  bad  blood  to  ever  be  FORGOTTEN  —  even  in  a  perfect  world  where  she  recognized  her  wrongs  and  begged  for  forgiveness.   ❝  i  call  her  my  mother  because  i  REFUSE  to  allow  her  the  luxury  of  escaping  what  she's  created.  it's  not  a  term  of  respect ...  it's  an  act  of  condemnation.  ❞

[throwmebacktotheabyss]

i swear to God I love my mama but I can't stand being around her for too long. The second the mask slips it's all over. I wish she would just fucking recognize my pain and understand that I am MEDICALLY DISABLED, there are things I simply CANNOT do. I'm not weak or lazy or a pessimist for realizing those limitations on myself and being gentler with myself. This condition is a PART of me and it's not going away! I've learned to manage it but fuck for her it's like even my best management methods designed by a TEAM of doctors isn't enough! It's me taking the easy route! It's me relying on toxic artificial stuff instead of putting in the work to "rise above"! I AM EXTREMELY PSYCHIATRICALLY DISABLED AND THERE'S NO CURE AND I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN sorry that's not enough! Sorry I'm not the hard working pre-hospitalization perfect savant that I was anymore! I can't even bring UP my condition without her refusing to acknowledge it as a part of me that will not go away. This shit goes way beyond script failure at this point. I already feel so fucking inhuman and a failure already, but it just doubly hurts that someone who says she'll support me thru anything just can't do it right. It's been years. I haven't even seen any effort, that's the worst part. When my little brother has more visible symptoms of his disability, she reorients her entire world view and lifestyle to accommodate him. But me? No. I'm grown and I've always done well in school and I'm able to 'function' so it's not like it's the same level of earth shattering. It's not like I'm ACTUALLY disabled bc the child she raised who was always so articulate and social and got all those rewards couldn't POSSIBLY be so DETERIORATED to be DISABLED. No, me being this way, in her mind, is me still being in 'survival mode' after a 'psychotic break.' IT HAS BEEN YEARS. why can't she just understand that and not make me feel like shit for it? Why am I any different than him? Just bc I behave differently? Is it bc my condition is so much more unsightly? Is it bc my diagnosis is "my own fault" whereas he was born that way? Why does she have to frame everything I do as either 'losing to' or 'overcoming' my chronic condition? Why can't I just be someone who has it who has reduced functionality? Why does she still want me to overcome it so I can go back to my same level of productivity and success prior to the months of intense and traumatic medical care? Why can't I just be a disabled person who is trying their best why am I so broken and less valid in her eyes bc I wasn't 'born this way'?

[lariskapargitay]

Ranking of people are how good they are at realizing Camilo is shape shifting from worst to best

11: Bruno- He only knew Camilo for five years, and only knew him after he got a gift for 3 months. He doesn’t know ANY of his tells or ticks or anything like that. Even when most of the family is like ‘it’s so obvious’ Bruno has no idea. Even after he comes back he still can’t pick up on it bc he doesn’t know if people are just acting weird around him or what.

10: Mirabel- She’s absolutely HORRIBLE at recognizing him. It’s not that she isn’t observant, she just sorta jumps in to quick to join the conversation to really study and listen and learn what Camilo!Person does different than Actual!Person does. She knows like none of his ticks and tells (bc why would she have, he has a super cool gift, it’s infallible, no way could people really be able to tell). She and Camilo are close and friendly (as cousins and cousins only you sick fucks who made me add this disclaimer) but she’s just horrible at knowing his tells. She is, however, the person he goes too when Julieta is busy, about how hard it is sometimes that he feels he can only help his family by being someone else, and she gives a Mirabel therapy speech and helps him out 🥺

9: Alma- Pre change, she never could recognize him ever. His gift is pretty much the most useless out of the whole group so he was never really on her radar and she never really bothered to get to know his tics and tells that make it easier for someone to spot. But he was her first grandson so she does know him the tiniest bit. After her big revelation she does a little bit better, but she still struggles a lot and couldn’t tell you who was who if you put Camilo!person and actual!person together side by side

8: Luisa- It’s not that she doesn’t love him or know him or they aren’t close or don’t spend time with him, it’s just that she’s always super busy and doesn’t really have time to fuck around and hang out and just chill and make people laugh like he does, so again, she doesn’t really know his tells. But if she sees him turn into someone enough, she starts to be able to recognize him

7: Antonio- That little boy LOVES his brother to death, he’s so happy to see *him*. Not his gifts, but he likes to see HIM. He’s also a very observant child so like he knows a few of his tics and tells but he’s also only five so he’s still got a long way to go, but when he gets older he’ll be really good at recognizing who Camilo is and who hes impersonating

6: Agustín- He’s smack dab in the middle of the pack. Sometimes he can tell if he knows the person he’s impersonating, sometimes he can’t. But he’s also adorkable uncle extraordinary so he goes along with it, letting Camilo think he has this man absolutely fleeced. One time he was sure it was Camilo, and the Priest was very concerned about rather or not Agustín had hit his head one too many times by the way he was a ring

5: Isabela- Shocking many people in the family, she’s actually smart af and not just a pretty face. She’s babysat Camilo enough times and he’s used his shapeshifting enough times for her to be able to know most of his tells and is usually on the money. He’s his own worst enemy with Isa, and the living equivalent of ‘you played yourself’ with her

4: Dolores- That’s her baby brother. Of course she knows a lot of his tells. Again similar with Dolores, but he played himself by using it to not mess with her but he was always shapeshifting around her to mess with others and make others laugh. Sometimes she can’t get it, and he always feel triumphant when he manages a ‘win’ but most times she can tell.

3: Julieta- Apart from his mother, this is the family member he’s closest too. Like with his mom, he doesn’t use shapeshifting to mess with her, but she just knows him and his manners and characteristics so well that a large majority of the time she can pick out the real Camilo. He has to really put on an effort to get one over on her and very sparingly he does, and she’s actually proud of him for managing to be THAT good with his gift (while tenderly and softly reminding him not to overdo it and that Camilo is still the best person he can be)

2: Félix- That’s his son. His annoying kinda grates on his nerves son, but his son nonetheless. He knows him, he knows how he walks, how he breathes, he loves that boy, he would die and kill for him. He’s just not AS close to him as Julieta and Pepa is so there still VERY rare occasions where it takes him a minute to figure it out and then even more rare he gets it wrong. As long as he’s not causing stress and anxiety with Pepa tho, he has to admit it’s pretty great he’s that good at acting and how he sort of mastered his gift to the point he can fool him.

1: Pepa- 100% all the time she knows. Within a heartbeat, doesn’t even need to look twice, she knows exactly which one is Camilo and which one is the person he’s impersonating, always, no fail. She always (always) can pick shape shifting Camilo out of a crowd. He pretends to get annoyed that she can always wreck his messing around with people, but secretly he’s relieved to know that no matter what his face looks like or who he changes into, his mother will always know who he is

[girlblogger666]

just some more, i hope u like it <3

their little girl wouldn't choose a bad person to date. she was raised well and with a father who treat her like a princess. But as with any relationship, there are fights, and it takes all of Eddie's effort not to intrude when his little girl comes home suffering from a broken heart. Chrissy has to remind him how dramatic teenagers are.

chrissy has some problems with her postpartum body. there have been changes, of course, but eddie is there to remind her that she is human and that this is normal, and how she is the most badass woman in the world for carrying their angel for nine months. She also does therapy!

Eddie going to work with colored clips in his hair, painted nails in different colors and makeup. courtesy of his daughter (chrissy took an amazing photo

based on a true story, for some reason eddie had to shave his hair. his daughter doesn't recognize him and cries hiding behind her mother. Eddie almost considers buying a wig, but eventually, she recognizes it's her father. but this breaks his poor heart 😅

Chrissy is the most loving mom in the world, and she doesn't fall short of eddie in being a mama bear. she always makes sure her daughter has self esteem and they love to cook together (helps chrissy have a better relationship with food too)

TYYY AGAINNN MY DEAR!! I love dad!eddie sm ✨✨

-absolutely I think their daughter would date someone who treats her with the upmost respect there is and if that person doesn’t, then no way in helllll would her patents let her be with someone who isn’t deserving. I cant see Eddie or Chrissy to be the overbearing helicopter parents but they’d definitely like to see who their daughter is dating only out of caring bc face it both of them know how cruel high schoolers can be especially when it comes to treating teenage girls!! So when their angel has her first “heartbreak” Eddie literally needs to be held back from tearing apart whoever left his bb in such a sad state :( Chrissy would totally be his backbone but is also there to remind him that teenagers are WHACK and their girl will be back to herself in no time !!

-After giving birth I knowwww Chrissy would be struggling :( this is also an ED warning so if you struggle, skip over this part <3 but as someone who has/still is struggling I know how she’d feel. When her body goes through any sort of change it would be hard and she’d possibly start to trail back to those horrible comments and thoughts that ruined her self imagine, but Eddie WOULD be there to remind her that it’s only natural that her body changes and without it going through those changes, they wouldn’t have their baby you know??? Besides, he only finds her more attractive and there’s no doubt that she wouldn’t look just as beautiful as she has before 💕 so she takes it one step at a time to be grateful for her body that just created and carried a new life into the world

-I think Eddie would work someplace that isn’t like uhhh self conforming….so maybe managing a record shop or a Music Store!!! Definitely a place that represents him and doesn’t make him want to rip out his hair!! So the days that he walks in with wacky hair clips placed miraculously around his locks or his nails being painted in different patterns, none of the other staff members bat an eye!! Due to the picture of his little gal that’s framed on his teeeeny office space, they know exactly what’s up. I think the younger employees, like mainly the teenaged girls, would go out of their way to even compliment his different looks and tease him by saying “sooooooo Eddie, when can we get our hair done by your daughter??” ;) but everyone who works there is superrrr friendly and on the special days that Chrissy and lil daughter stop by, they all treat them like royalty

-I think when his bb is like two or maybe still a year old, he’d get reallll tired of his long hair :( it’s not that he thinks it’s lame or anything but it’s ✨Maintenence✨ and dealing with a baby left like noooo room for that! Chrissy would be s h o o k when he asks her for help on buzzing it and she’s even more surprised when she finds out how cute he looks but he’s still a total DILF. However, his bb on the other hand wouldn’t take it so well <3 from birth, she’s only familiar with daddy having long hair so when that’s gone she’s like uhhhh who’s this and what did u do to my dad??? I think she’d hide into the crook of Chrissy’s neck and start to cry if Eddie tried to hold her which breaks his heart and makes him regret his haircut!! Slowly but surely his hair grows back but his daughter luckily grew out of her “I want my dad back” phase and they’re all gooood 💁🏻‍♀️

-MOM!CHRISSY FTW 💕 I think chrissy would just try her hardest to be her daughters backbone no matter what!! Wether that’s checking on her when she seems down or making sure she’s ate enough, it’s all because Chris just wants to be the mom she never had. Chrissy was thrilled to find out she was having a girl, but deep down it also scared her :( she would never want her daughter to grow to hate her or resent her in the way that Chrissy did towards her own mom </3 Chrissy always tries her hardest and never fails 🤍

THANK U ANGEL FOR THESE!! I love them as parents ✨ reqs are always open 💕

[quinnfebrey]

“bc of all the racial metaphors woven into the guild/legacy lore”

Genuinely curious what are the racial metaphors in FK

just a warning that this is going to be insanely long because i’ve been building it up for a few other asks i’ve gotten about it

(also just a warning that this is the only time i will acknowledge that most of this was probably invented by my own brain and not intentional on the writers’ part, though i’d love for ve to confirm or deny)

first, to add some context for the rest of it, i think it makes sense to break down the guild and the legacies into symbolic groups

the guild symbolizes poc, but especially black communities, and while i don’t know if this was their intention, i also want to say that there’s something there for immigrant communities. individual families are very tight knit, and are constantly unable to connect fully with the places they’re in so they rely a lot on the connections they have with their own community. even with the franklins and the burns, you can hear the kids refer to the parents as “aunt” and “uncle,” even though they’re not actually related, which is a very poc thing to do. i saw some white fans going “wait, cal and tess dated but they’re cousins???” like no fool they just have strong community ties

on the flip side, the fairmonts and legacies symbolize white supremacy. while the immediate families may be close to each other, the legacy community as a whole is not; it’s demonstrated that they are all playing nice and avoiding infighting exclusively to maximize their own station, not because they genuinely have connections with one another. marriages are primarily for power more than anything and not “tainting” the bloodline is constantly pushed as one of the primary influences of the legacies. margot was essentially exiled from her family just for marrying outside her “kind,” and the way elinor was asked to sign a contract stating she’d have children until a female heir came is SO reminiscent of the british royal empire

so, based off of the assumption that the symbolism above was intentional, here are some consequential things i noticed while watching first kill:

we see that the guild and those in it train relentlessly for their skill, meanwhile legacies are simply born with their fighting abilities

juliette is a “good vampire” but fails to acknowledge that denouncing her lineage doesn’t exempt her from the privilege that she has and actually just makes it worse

meaning, it is oftentimes the most well-intentioned white people that can do the most damage in their efforts to “help” poc by playing the savior (as cal literally calls her out). for example, juliette turning theo without recognizing the implications that that has for the burns family has the same energy as white people going to protests with face paint and t shirts without understanding that doing so endangers the poc they’re there to support in the first place

why didn’t she just… call cal or apollo? and ask what she should do? explain to them the power she has, and ask how they would prefer she use it (or not)? instead of just assuming that what was best for those like HER would be the same as people like him?

calliope wrestling with “does it make us monsters to hunt the monsters” is the exact same “neutrality sides with the oppressor” discussion that goes around every time something happens

no, fighting back against those that systemically oppress you does not make you just as bad

even the fan response to the raid on the fairmonts is telling. the burns are fighting back against a centuries long massacre of humans by the legacies. yes, they may have started the fight that night specifically, but the battle was begun by the legacies a long time ago. and yet fans have demonized the burns/guild for it, asking why they can’t just “leave them alone” (um… because “leaving them alone” means leaving them to continue attacking humans…?)

legacy bites disappear. i’m aware it was just a throwaway plot point but going with my “everything is an allegory” soapbox, i think it could be a subtle metaphor for generational trauma or the invisible repercussions of microaggressions

elinor literally thinks she and other legacies are superior to humans and possibly other vampires. of course, when her father was dying because he isn’t full legacy, she wanted nothing more than to save him, but couldn’t see that extend to others. so on the nose for people who will allow racism, homophobia, etc. to slide until it’s directly effecting them

the whole thing where the canadians (?) have free range humans that allow themselves to be fed on for money. is it “free range” or is it legacies capitalizing on the power they have from decades of systemic oppression?

idk there’s probably more stuff but my brain hurts

[kimnjss]

slumber party | pjm

⤑  series: less of you

⤑ pairing: fratboy!jimin x dancer!reader

⤑ genre: angst !! a lil bit of smut.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 10.1K // unedited bc im tired . 

⤑ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight dry humping, making out at a party, slight exhibitionism kink if you squint, jimin like bites her once i think, handjob, spit, cum licking, jimin sleeps with his hand in her pants to keep warm.

⤑ chapter song: dark side of the moon // lil wayne ft. nicki minaj 

⤑ A/N: idk what it is, but i can’t shut up when it comes to loy!jimin // also very important to note that jimin did not invite miju to the slumber party in hopes she’d bring yn ., it was yoongi who asked jimin if he would invite miju . okay!! without any more chit chat e n j o y !! and let me know what you think x 

Taehyung is the one to answer the front door moments after Miju excitedly rocked her knuckles against the wood. A furry pooch clutched to his side, decked out in an authentic-looking Hugh Hefner robe complete with the black slippers. Seoyeon is right behind him, slender arms wrapped around his torso as she pouts for his attention.

He pays her no mind, pushing a boxy grin onto his face as he stares between you and your best friend. “Miju! You look great,” She does, so you understand the blatant why he checks her out as the two of you move to enter the house.

Of course, Miju wanted to go all out for tonight. Totally convinced that this night would change everything for her and Jimin. That there was no way he wouldn't fall for her with her after the night of warm closeness and scary movies. No doubt, he'd be inviting her to spend the night in his room... some signature thing that always seemed to happen at these lingerie parties.

You had decided to call it what it was. Branded as a huge slumber party, where everyone could sit around and watch movies, eat snacks, and relax – but you weren't an idiot. Nobody was going to pay attention to the flicks on the screen and there was no way anyone would relax. Not with dozens upon dozens of college girls prancing around in their nighties.

It took all of your efforts... and energy, to convince Miju that buying an all lace negligee was definitely not the way to approach this situation. Words slightly fueled by the bit of fear that Jimin might actually like the way she looked in the thin fabric, instantly pushing the thought to the back of your mind. It was for her own good, not jealousy that you were steering her away from the lingerie aisle.

After quite a bit of debate (multiple interruptions of random messages lighting up your phone from Jimin), she was deciding on a set the both of you could agree on. Excitement clouding her features as she held up the matching pair, insisting that you bought it so you could be twins. You were agreeing, no hesitation needed. Not even bothering to actually look at the thing, just ready to make her as happy as possible. That was the guilt gnawing at your chest.

Which was exactly why you were back in this sleazy living room, freezing your ass off (literally) once again. Despite the set being made completely of velvet, the shorts were so incredibly short that you wondered if maybe you had picked up the wrong size – cropped tank allowing a chill on your midriff.

You could already feel the stares from the guys sprawled around the room, granted to both you and your best friend. Miju, though, acted as if she didn't notice... reaching back to find your hand – she's gently tugging you forward.

“Jimin said to meet him in the den,” Ignoring the way your heart drops at the mention of his name, you just nod. Following behind her, all while reminding yourself that seeing him wasn't going to change anything. That you could easily stick to your guns, no matter how many times he flashed that pretty crooked smile.

The fact that he and his little friends felt the need to seclude themselves... when the party they were hosting wasn't even all that big, had you rolling your eyes. Just from a quick glance, there were no more than ten people in their living room – half of which you were sure lived there, or spent so much time around that they knew where everything was.

Despite it not being real crowded... or loud out in the living room, Taehyung was the only one sat mingling with the group of guests. And you had a feeling that it had a lot to do with the fact Seoyeon didn't want to ditch her friends to sneak into his room just yet.

Just like Miju had said, Jimin was in the den along with Yoongi and Joon. A pretty girl with long dyed red hair sat upon Joon's lap, fingers raking through his hair. She had definitely gotten the lingerie memo, see-through lace covering her 'valued' bits, a lace robe draped over her shoulders.

Yoongi laid sideways on the armchair, scrolling through his phone with a bag of chips on his stomach. You watch the crumbs tumble from the bag and onto the floor as he lifts his body to a seated position, smiling eyes meeting Miju. “You made it,” Jimin's eyes shift behind him, nosily peaking to see who Yoongi was speaking with.

The grin that takes over his features has liquid fire instantly cruising through your veins, cheeks darkening as you easily place the look he's pining you with as the same look he gave you with his head between your legs. Jimin's standing, pushing a hand through his dark locks despite them already being swept back.

He looks good, annoyingly so. Hair carefully styled to reveal his dark eyebrows and oddly attractive forehead. A pair of wide-rimmed circular glasses perched at the tip of his nose. You can't help but notice how perfectly the black and white pinstripe robe outlines his lean body, it's left open to reveal the white t-shirt he wears underneath, the black sweats hanging off his hips.

Those hips... you remember how they felt pressed against yours. Legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight against you. He had been so hard against your pussy, could feel every ridge and curve of his length. A shame that you didn't get to feel him stretch you out, cum around his thick cock. Yet, you don't think you'd trade the feeling of those fingers for anything. He definitely knew what he was doing in that department.

It takes a moment for you to realize that you're staring and Jimin is glancing at you, curiosity riddling his features. Had he just said something? Were you really that zoned out that you didn't hear him talking directly to you... standing right in your face? Was this what you've really become? How disgusting.

“What?”

A smirk plays on his lips, ignoring the obvious attitude on your tongue. Jimin's eyebrow arches, eyes slowly trailing over the curves of your body, the image of what you looked like underneath him, screaming his name... is instantly clouding his thoughts. “I didn't say a thing,” He speaks slowly, eyes taking their time to find your face again.

“Quit staring at me,” You mumble as you move to pass him, following the path Miju had but instead of taking the seat on the too small seat beside Yoongi, you're plopping down beside Joon and his girl for the evening.

Instantly, she's pulling her face from the crook of his neck. Lipstick smeared as she shoots you a squinted eyed glare. Warning in her eyes, feeling as if you had gotten too close to what she had claimed as hers. You're lifting your hands in mock defense, “Not interested,” She rolls her heavily shadowed eyes, before burying her face again.

Joon is turning to look at you the best he can with his human-sized leech, arm extended offering of a knuckle tap. You knock your fingers against his slightly, “Didn't think I'd ever see you again, what's up?”

Simply shrugging your shoulders, you decide that's response enough. Convinced that Jimin had informed his entire friend circle of what took place in his bedroom. Although, he didn't seem like the type... at least, not with you. But a guy was a guy, no matter how you sliced it.

“You want to choose the movie, Miju?” Jimin's offering up just as Taehyung comes tumbling into the room. Seoyeon two steps behind him, arms linked with two girls that you could only assume were apart of her 'clique'. Hoonie is behind them, fingers toying with the ends of one of the girl's ponytail.

Miju nods at Jimin's words, hopping up instantly to follow him to the array of movies that he had assorted on a bookshelf. It's hard not to stare as the two of them talk quietly in front of the shelf, searching through the names and laughing while they quote bits from movies they've both seen.

Not even standing there for more than seven minutes... you definitely did not count, but you see it all. Can't take your eyes off of them as she laughs at whatever funny thing he's saying, leaning into him as she speaks – batting her eyelashes up at him. He's smiling so brightly down at her, genuine. And you feel sick to the stomach, hate the feeling as soon as you recognize it. But you can't get yourself to look away, even though you feel Taehyung watching you watching them from the spot he chose on the floor, you can't get yourself to look away.

They're coming back with the movie picked hanging from the tips of Miju's manicured fingers. She's moving to pop it into the DVD player as Jimin goes to turn off the lights. It's Zombieland, a movie that you know for a fact Miju hated the first time you saw it together. She's still all smiley as she takes her place beside Yoongi on the couch.

You're so focused on them and the way he seems to curl inside of himself with her so close, yet, at the same time attempt to move closer to her without it being obvious. So focused that you don't notice Taehyung lifting from the floor and taking Jimin's original spot, Seoyeon in his lap. 

Don't notice Jimin make a beeline to the vacant spot beside you on the couch, not until there's warmth against your thigh and you're being engulfed with the strong scent of cinnamon.

It's not until halfway through the movie do you notice the shift... in everyone that's littered around the too small den. Hoonie's got his hand around the ponytail girl's shoulders, tips of his fingers tracing the lace at the top of her bra while the other girl tries to scoot closer, feigning for attention.

Seoyeon's head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut as Tae draws intricate patterns on the warm skin of her neck with his tongue. A large hand gripped on her bottom, holding her still on his lap – which is absolutely useless because the girl is squirming.

Joon and that girl have been on the verge of fucking since before you even entered the room, so it's no wonder that she has her hand down the front of his pants. She's trying to be discreet, but he doesn't hide the groans that fall from his lips. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was practicing for a porno with how loud he was being.

There's a nervous tap of Yoongi's foot, his fingers twitching at his sides as he tries his hardest to keep his focus on the movie. Only half listening to the commentary coming from Miju beside him, who seems oblivious to the beginning stages of a parted orgy happening all around her.

It's Jimin who strikes your interest the most... yes for obvious reasons, but also for how quiet he has been since he sat next to you. Long legs crossed under his butt, eyes trained on the giant TV upfront, not a single glance sent in your direction. Not once. Not even a little sneaky one paired with that annoying smirk.

You can't help but wonder... wish that you could peak into his mind. A quick glance at his thoughts... were you in them?

All of a sudden he's standing, adjusting the robe on his body. He's making his way to the door without a word. Miju's eyes flicker to the movement, watching him walk out and you can't help the silent prayer that she doesn't follow after him. She doesn't, just brings her stare back to the screen.

You give it a good five minutes before you're standing from your spot, convincing yourself you're only leaving in search of something to drink. It's exactly what you mumble to Joon (who couldn't care less, to be completely honest) as you move to exit the room. The kitchen is just across from the den and that's exactly where you're heading... to get some water... but then you're eyes are catching the movement to your right.

Of course, it's Jimin. He's exiting the bathroom, drying the palms of his hands on his dark bottoms. Pining you with a wide-eyed expression that's slowly morphing into a smirk and waking up your heart. With a drag of his tongue on his plump lower lip, he's shifting his weight onto one foot. “You followed me?” He's assuming, ever so cocky and annoying.

Instantly, you're rolling your eyes, scoffing at his words before moving to walk ahead of him. “I just came to get a drink.” He's hot on your tail, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body against your chilled skin.

“There's drinks in there. Snacks too.” He's pointing out with a grin, which you ignore completely; entering the rest of the way into the kitchen. The party has picked up since you first arrived, very different from what was going on in the quiet lust ridden den. There's music playing out here, people drinking, laughing loudly amongst each other. All in pajamas.

Now you're understanding their desire to seclude themselves from the rest of the party. Obviously, it was just a thing that they did. Branded as a fun time where you could party in your pajamas, but the inner circle? The people inside of that den right now about to give a new meaning to pillow fight, yeah – that's what this party was really for.

Is that why he had invited Miju? Wanted to have her a part of his little inner circle? But you had come along and ruined his plans. Was that why he wasn't talking to you before in there? Pissed off that you showed up?

“I didn't get a chance to tell you how pretty you look in your pajamas,” His voice is soft even though he's standing right behind you. Eyes scanning over the various drinks that are displayed on the table, looking for something... anything nonalcoholic. Just barely registering his words, you nod your head. “They're the same as Miju's.” You point out, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you locate a water bottle hidden in the far back.

“I noticed. The two of you are really best friends, huh?” He's closer than you think when you turn around. Body instantly caged between his and the counter. Time seems to freeze as your eyes catch his wide ones, water bottle clutched in your palms as you stare at him. Butterflies waking up in your stomach as he stares right back, dark eyes searching your features.

You're forcing yourself to shake it off, straightening your back and clearing your throat. That just there? That was nothing. Not a moment. Not a discovery. Nothing. Feigning nonchalance, you're answering his question. 

“Yeah, since we were six. Which is why-” Ready to reject him again. Knowing all too well what that look in his eye meant. Too familiar with the heat pooling between your legs, just from being this close to him; just from him looking at you like he was literally holding back from devouring you right here against the counter.

He's interrupting you before you can finish your sentence, though. “I know,” Rolling those pretty eyes of his and you don't miss the annoyance in his tone. “...we can't, but I want to.” A slight whine mixed in his tone, his head lowering slightly while his body moves closer against yours.

He hasn't touched you yet, despite how much you want him to. Just entered your space until he was clouding your senses. Knew exactly what he was doing, because you couldn't think when he was this close, teeth worrying his plump lower lip and you want nothing more to replace them with your own.

“Push me away,” Jimin's whispering now, faces mere inches apart that there's no reason for him to speak any louder. It's a gruff tone that has your pussy clenching around absolutely nothing. He waits, giving you a moment to think it over – figure out your next move. But you don't move, you stare at him – waiting for him, challenging him.

A smirk spreads across his lips, caught only for a minute before he's closing the rest of the space between you, molding his lips onto yours. The desperate groan that falls from his mouth is urging you on, hand wet with condensation, you're lifting it to place at the back of his neck – pulling him closer to you.

Faintly, you remember his words from the other night. How he let slip that he could kiss you all night. Right now, at this moment, you found yourself agreeing with him. Not seeing yourself getting enough of the feeling that enveloped your body just from having his lips on yours. 

His thick tongue is pushing its way past your lips, fingers gripped against the counter while he moves his body toward you. Even through the layers, your body is still reacting to having his chest pressed against yours. Nipples pebbling underneath the velvety fabric. And all you can think is you want more. Every last thought falling from your head as you drop the bottle onto the floor, fingers curling into the waistband of his sweats to pull his hips against yours.

“Mmh, you eager baby?” The words are mumbled against your lips, a giggle leaving your lips with a nod of your head. Hand on his neck pulling him closer, you kiss him again rougher this time. Needier. Jimin is thrusting his hips forward and you feel his half hard cock press against your thigh. 

“What do you want?” His hands are dropping to your hips, easily lifting your body onto the counter. Bottles and cups clatter onto their sides, but he pays them no mind; simply moving to stand between your legs.

It's mindless, the way your legs wrap around his hips so you're able to pull him close. Fingers knitted in his hair and head drawn back to give his plump lips as much room as they need to roam your heated skin. “You want me to fuck you? Right here on the counter where anyone can walk in?” He's biting into your skin, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. His words are getting to you, your imagination running wild with the picture he paints.

Hips rolling up into yours, you're not hesitating with meeting his thrust. It feels so good that you don't bother to mask your moans either, instead allow your hips to take on a mind of their own. Thighs tightening around his hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

“You want me to? You're so fucking dirty...” He's panting, trying to keep it together – but it's hard with the way you look right now. Uninhibited, needy just for him. Nipples creating peaks against the soft fabric, it takes all his willpower not to lean down and wrap his lips around them. He's just about to let go and do it when he's catching the crack of the door behind you.

Jimin's quick with the way he slides your body from the counter, gently pushing you toward the fridge as he busies himself with picking up the bottles you had knocked over. A 'what the fuck' is on the tip of your tongue, but you're words are being cut by the sound of the voice.

“Minmin? Are you not watching the movie anymore?” It's Miju, naturally pouty lips directed at Jimin. Your eyes are wide, discreetly trying to adjust your shorts that seemed to have ridden up. Heart beating a mile a minute and cheeks flushed, you're glad she's all the way on the other side of the room. And paying like zero attention to you.

Jimin's head bobs at her words, reaching for a farther bottle that was moments from rolling off the table and shattering. “Yeah. I just went to the bathroom and wanted to clean up a bit.” She's nodding her head, tilting to the side and finally noticing you. Her brows furrow slightly. “You left too?”

Back straightening, you're clearing your throat. An arm wrapping around your chest to cover your pert nipples as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I... uh, I came out for some water.”

“Oh! There's drinks in there, you know? Minmin set them all up,” She's looking up at him with glowing eyes, and he smiles at her compliment. “Not cold ones,” He's pointing out and you're nodding, in agreement.

“Yeah... I wanted cold water,”

Miju is nodding, no longer interested in the topic. “Okay. Well, hurry! It's almost finished,” Your nod matches Jimin's and she's smiling wide before turning and heading back into the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Jimin is turning to you the moment she's out of earshot, apologetic eyes searching the stoic features of your face. “I'm so sorry, Yn. I shouldn't have-,” You're stopping him with a shake of your head, lips tucked into your mouth. Leaning down, you pick out the dropped bottle, not sparing him a glance as you pass him to join the loud party.

Should've done this in the first place, you needed to keep your distance. It was too hard to control yourself around him and you were only making things worse thinking that you could. It'd be easy, just stay away... erase all thoughts of him. Keep yourself from replaying the way he kissed you, touched you, talked to you. How he seemed to know exactly what you liked.

Forget how your stupid heart never seemed to shut up when he was close, those simpleminded butterflies flapping their stupid wings every time he smiled at you. You could just shake all of that off.

It would be easy.

The rest of the night is spent like that. Careful to keep your distance, instead halfheartedly mingling with the crowd of party-goers. Mainly sticking to the familiar faces from around campus, who grin with an offer alcoholic beverages and a step closer to wiping your mind of all things Jimin.

It's not long before you start to feel good, the sway in your steps becoming natural as the people around you become funnier. More interesting. Entertaining. Conversation coming easily as you delve deeper into the lives of your nameless classmates. Convinced you could keep up with this until you were feeling tired enough to crash. Before you knew it, it would be the next morning and you could pack it up and go home scratch free.

That was what you thought. What you hoped. Didn't take into account that the crowd would dwindle down as the night went on. And you definitely didn't expect the 'inner circle' to emerge from the den at all until morning. But as the living room started to slowly clear out, they began to appear one by one.

Hoonie is first, the girl that had been trying to get his attention tucked underneath his arm as he leads her upstairs. The shorts he wears sag low and you wonder if that was something that happened during the movie. A large hand placed on her bare ass used as an excuse to guide her into his room.

You sit on the couch, nursing your third fill of spike pink lemonade staring at the door. Silently hoping that Jimin doesn't come out, that he's fallen asleep sometime in the two and a half hours that you were out of there. Or if he does come out, he's coming out with Miju on his arm – ready to spend the night with her and you'd have no choice but to deal with it.

Yoongi is leaving the room twenty minutes after Hoonie wearing his signature annoyed expression. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatpants, he doesn't spare you a glance (you're not even sure he knows you're sitting right there) as he makes his way up the steps and into his room, pushing the door closed.

Then it's Taehyung ten minutes after that. Seoyeon wrapped around him like a koala, head buried in his neck. He doesn't head to his room as you expect, instead, he's making a beeline to the kitchen, setting her down on the counter. The same counter Jimin had you on, ready to 'fuck you where anyone can walk in'. They giggled amongst each other, sharing quiet words as he fixes drinks for both of them. Drinks you're sure they don't need what with the drunk in love expression written all over that girl's face.

Miju is exiting with the Ponytail Girl, her eyes finding you instantly. She smiles big, lifting both of her hands to wave as they make their way over. “This was where you were? How come you didn't come back in?” She's plopping beside you on the couch, tugging her new friend to sit down beside her.

“I saw some friends from class, figured I'd chat for a bit,” You lie. Miju is laughing at your words, head tilting to the side slightly. “You hate chatting. And as far as I know, everyone in your classes,” She eyes you suspiciously, big eyes searching your features for any sign of abnormality. You keep your expression stoic, silent prayers sent that she doesn't pick up on your inner turmoil.

But then, she gives up. Deciding it's easier to just ask rather than try to read you herself. “You're not mad, right? That I dragged you along tonight.” With a shake of your head, you're pushing a bright smile onto your face.

“No, not at all. I had a good time,” She smiles wide at your words, hopping up from the couch and pulling Ponytail up. “This is Yuri, by the way. They're setting up tents outside and she invited me to share, you want to come?” Huh, so that's where everyone was heading.

You couldn't help but admire how well these boys seemed to pay attention to detail. To host a giant slumber party and not want dozens of drunk half adults sprawled around your house, simply have tents ready to be set up so they can all crash there. If Miju was heading out to the tents, though... did that mean nothing happened with Jimin?

“I'll catch up. Gonna finish my drink and enjoy the music.” Miju nods happily, linking arms with Yuri before the both of them are basically skipping out back. You want to wonder about Jimin, ready to try and figure out why nothing happened between him Miju but your thoughts are quickly interrupted by a deep voice.

“You're not coming in?” It's Taehyung. Holding two cups in his hand, eyes following Seoyeon as she makes her way back into the den. Brow furrowing and head tilting to the side, you're sure you look like the epitome of confusion. He's rolling his dark eyes at you, blowing out a thick huff of air. “Joon's girl passed out. So it's just me, him, Min and Yeonie. You're just gonna sit there all night?”

He waits a good two seconds before his patience is snapping, shifting the cups so he's holding them by the top between the long fingers of his right hand. Taehyung reaches for your wrist in his now free hand, lifting you from the couch and pulling you toward the den. “You're one of the cool kids now, act like it.” He's quoting a song... or a movie, you can't quite place it but you're sure you've heard those words before.

Jimin is scowling at his phone when you enter, thumb tapping rhythmically against the screen. He's sat cross legged on the couch beside the passed out redhead, Joonie on the other side of her annoyance creasing his brow. Taehyung is dropping your hand to slip into the vacant space beside Seoyeon, lifting her onto his lap after handing her the drink.

There's a twitch in Jimin's brow, it's subtle but you see it. His eyes lifting from the screen to find you. Those plump lips of his spreading into a soft smile at the sight of you. The scowl disappearing from his features and you can't help but wonder if he had missed you in the few hours that you were away.

But, you're instantly pushing the thought from your head – complete with an actual shake of the head. Can't think like that, not when Miju was so hopeful when it came to him. Not interested in being a shitty friend and the more time you spent around him, the shitter he got. So despite, being pulled in the room and the heart pattering feeling you got from the way he looked at you, you're passing him. Walking all the way to the sliding doors that lead to the balcony, prepared to just spend time out here until you were tired enough to go find Miju.

It's colder than you expect, your bare arms and legs taking a big hit. But it's bearable. You can see the moon perfectly from where you stand, full and bright. Illuminating the figures of the people just below with their tents. You can faintly hear their laughter, conversations mixed it sounds like constant chatter.

How fun it would be to share a tent with Miju without this guilt gnawing in your chest. No doubt, she'd make a fuss about having to sleep on the grass – completely disregarding the sleeping bag as a suitable barrier. Freak out about the loud noises that she would be so certain was a bear. She was always funny like that, prepared for impending doom but unequipped to do anything about it.

It would've been fun.

No matter how hard you tried, it was hard to act normal around her since that night. As if you knew you had wronged her and felt you didn't deserve to be in on her friendship after that betrayal. She acted the same around you, though, hardly noticing your shift... you weren't sure if that made things better or worse.

You're not sure how much time passes with you just standing out there, sipping your drink. Ignoring the chill that runs down your spine with every gust of wind. Concentration on the shining moon above as you let your mind wander. Not fighting it when you begin to wonder what it would be like if you had met Jimin first. You'll just blame it on the alcohol muddling your thoughts later.

Suddenly, your senses are being clouded with silky warm cinnamon. There's a bump against your shoulder, “Namjoon won't shut up about how tight your ass looks in those shorts,” Jimin grumbles. He had taken his robe off to drape over your shoulders. He doesn't even look real in the light of the moon, as if you had conjured him with your thoughts.

Skin glowing, despite how annoyed he looked. Lips looking as soft and plush as ever, even if he insisted on keeping them pursed in his angry little pout. His eyes sparkled a hint of fire mixed in his stare. Overwhelmed with the need to tease him, a smirk is playing on your lips.

“Oh yeah? Why don't you tell him to come do something about it, then.” Hands tugging the robe tighter around your body, you watch as his scowl deepens. “Don't upset me,” He grumbles, all but growling and you don't even bother to stop the laugh that falls from your lips.

Jimin looks away at you, squinted eyes glaring at the moon above. He's leaning against the railing close enough that you're shoulders touch, but he pays you no mind. “I'm not interested in Namjoon,” You speak, even though it's none of his business. Unsure why you share that piece of information considering you owed him zero explanation.

His gaze slowly shifts to you but you don't look at him, convinced that you don't care how he reacts to your words. Instead, you continue to watch the moon. The two of you stand there or a while, shoulder to shoulder, both staring but for different reasons... with different feelings.

His robe is warm around you, a welcome feeling because you were sure your thighs were about to turn blue from the cold. It smells like him too, cinnamon. It takes all of your willpower not to lean down and inhale the damn thing. God, you really needed to get a grip when it came to this guy.

“You like it?” His words catch you off guard, wide eyes finding him. Had he heard you? Well, of course not you weren't speaking out loud... right? Could he read your mind? Did he know that you were creepily trying to figure out ways to sneak sniffs of his robe without him realizing?

“Like what?” You ask carefully. His lips lift into a full teeth grin, his gaze shifting from you to the sky. “The moon.” Jimin leans into you as he points and you know he does it as an excuse to touch you. You don't mind it. “You've been staring at it for a while...”

Relaxing, you nod your head. A small smile spreading across your lips, head lifting to admire the shine. “I like to look at it sometimes, send my wishes up there and hopefully they'll come true,”

“What do you wish for?” He's asking as soon as you're finished your sentence, looking genuinely interested.

You shrug, teeth worrying your lower lip as he looks at you. Waiting. Interested. “I wish for everything... health, contentment... to not fail,” Cheeks darkening slightly at your words, you act like it doesn't affect you. Never told anyone that you sent hopeful wishes up to the night sky and counted on them. Words just seemed to flow so easily when you were with Jimin, though.

It's the way he looks at you. How he always looks at you as if he just discovered his very own moon. Prepared to jump through hoops, endure your constant rejection if it meant he'd soon enough be able to break through. Be granted a few moments of your pretty smile, hear that laugh... and maybe, have you look at him the same way. Not willing to share you with anyone else, had half the mind to whisk you away so he could keep you.

Not like you'd complain, belonging to Jimin and only him. Certain that there wasn't a single person that made you feel the way that he did. He must have the on switch to your heart, it only seemed to malfunction when he was around. When he smiled. Kissed you. Coated with sexual tension, you were sure your feelings were more than just that. They were real. He felt real.

“I know what I'd wish for,” Eyes dropping from the sky down to you. A bit closer now, but not crossing the line. Just doing enough that left you no choice but to make the next move, leaving the final decision up to you like he always did.

“What's that?” Prolonging the conversation and staying still. Forcing your urges to stay at bay, keeping your arms wrapped around your chest. If not, you know they'd be finding the warmth of his neck to pull him into you. To feel those lips you couldn't get enough of again, and again, and again.

The grin that spreads across his lips stills your pounding heart. Dimple poking out in its usual spot, corners of his eyes lifting just slightly. “I won't tell you,” His smile widens at the end of his words and you feel your lips curling up too. “If I did, then it wouldn't come true... I really want it to come true,”

Eyes rolling, you're taking two big steps away from him. “I told you my wishes,” You mumble. Jimin laughs, arm reaching out to tug on the fabric of his robe, pulling your body against his again. His arm wraps around your waist to hold you in place, the tips of his fingers gently brushing against your exposed belly.

“Relax. I'll tell you when it comes true,”

There must be some magnetic pull because your head is finding his shoulder easily. Finding comfort in having him so close. You feel his stare but refuse to return it. Just allow him to watch you watch the moon. Enjoying the comfortable silence that falls upon you two, the warmth that spreads throughout your body from the stroke of his fingers.

“You're not cold? You don't want to go in?” Jimin's asking as moments pass. You're shaking your head, despite the shiver that shakes your body seemingly on command. He laughs softly, easily pulling your body to stand in front of him. Arms secured around your waist in a back hug, aim to share some of his warmth with you.

You're leaning back into him, hands dropping down to hold onto his wrists. His chin rests on the top of your head, gaze following yours. “You really liked it that much?”

“I could stare at it all night,” You're admitting. His hands are moving underneath your grasp, just enough so he's able to take hold of your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I'd give it to you, so you could.” That. That has your heart doing cartwheels behind your rib cage. Butterflies flapping so hard that you're afraid they might burst out to kiss him.

Laughing it off, you urge yourself to relax. Burying the icky lovey dove-y feeling he seemed to carry around with him. “What you gonna do? Toss a rope up there and yank it down?” Tone teasing, in hopes, to shift the overly romantic moment in a different direction.

He doesn't take the hint, ignoring it completely. Pulling your body tighter against his, you can hear the smile in his voice. “If you asked me to, I'd try.”

This has you pulling away from him completely, overwhelmed with the need to be close to him – which results in you not wanting to be close at all. “Stop saying corny things to me,” You whine. That smile of his spreading as he reaches down for your hips, pulling your body toward him again. “Why?”

“You know why.” You can't believe you're actually pouting. Like a complete lower lip poked out, arms crossed pout. It feels so uncharacteristic, but natural at the same time. Jimin's eyes are rolling this time, hands pulling your chest against his before his arms are leaving your hips to wrap around your back.

“You don't have to fight it, you can just be when you're with me.” There's promise in his matter-of-fact tone and he's looking at you with those eyes again. And you believe him, oddly. Feel secure in his words, in his arms. Gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips then back up again. “Would you be upset if I kissed you?” His voice is hushed as if he was determined to keep this moment between just you two.

Soft lips press against yours the moment you're shaking your head. His signature groan falling from his lips as his hand reaches up to tangle in your hair. Different from the other times he's kissed you, this is much slower. Calculated in the way his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth as if he wants to savor the moment.

You kiss him back the same, palm of your hand easily finding the back of his neck to hold him still. Becoming completely uninterested in anything that wasn't his hands. His lips. Him. Jimin. All too soon, he's pulling back, leaving two quick pecks on your lips that has a giggle leaving your lips.

He takes a moment to admire it. Admire you. Wondering how he managed to get so lucky... and unlucky at the same time. “Come sleep in my room tonight.” You could guess how many girls had come here hoping to hear those exact words from his mouth. Knew one of them personally. And that has you pulling back, regret instantly crowding your heart.

“Are you stupid? We can't do that.” No matter how much you want to. The feeling of falling asleep in his arms, spending the night wrapped in his warmth, was quickly slipping from your memory.

“We can.” He's assuring you with a nod of his head. “I'll lock the door and it'll be just you and me. Then you can just leave before anyone wakes up.” Fingers reach out for yours, he's lifting your knuckles to his lips to press soft kisses against your knuckles. Softening you. “Who knows, maybe I'll make you squirt again.” Tantalizing teeth nibble gently at your digit. 

You're pulling your fingers back just in time to catch his smirk. With your dark cheeks, you can't deny that you weren't completely against the idea of repeating the night before. “You're thinking too hard about it.” He whines. “I just want to have you in my arms. Nothing else, honest.” He's reaching for your hand again, lacing your fingers slightly.

“Why do you want that?” Can't help the question from tumbling past your lips, no matter how his words managed to make you feel. Because at the end of the day Jimin was still just a guy... and even if he brought a thousand hammers, you still had walls.

There's a furrow in his brow, head tilting to the side as he looks down at you. The pad of his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand, as his smirk turns teasing. “You don't want it?”

Jimin's room is just how you remember it. Charmingly messy, which most people would just refer to as disorganized. Not enough time is granted to peak around your surroundings, take in the trail of discarded gym clothes that lead to the en-suite bathroom. The clutter of books carelessly left in the corner of the room. The impressive collection of shoes lined up in the corner, the only thing that seemed to have a proper place.

All of that is missed because the second Jimin is shutting the door, his body is against yours forcing backward steps until your back is flat against his sheets. Sheets that he had changed since the last time for... obvious reasons. Plush lips trail a line from your chin to the meeting of your jaw and neck, pulling soft moans from your lips.

Both of his hands are sliding underneath the fabric of your tank top, stopping at your rib cage. Jimin's lips feel so good against your skin, natural as if that's where they belonged. The thump in your chest doesn't stop, in fact, it speeds the longer you lay underneath him. 

Slowly, he's lifting his face from your neck so he's able to look down at you. Huffing out a chuckle, he's leaning down to press his lips to yours gently... pulling away before it can get too heated. “You look so dazed. Do you like me that much?” He's joking, can hear it in his voice... but you're not a big fan of the weight his words hold.

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you're wiggling out of his grasp. He watches as you tug his robe from your shoulders before crawling your way to the head of the bed. Making yourself at home in his king size. Tucked in his fluffy blankets and Jimin is not fair behind you. Kneeling to remove his shirt before he's sinking underneath the comforter, arms mindlessly finding your waist.

Back pressed against his chest, he takes a moment to breathe you in. Loving that despite you having removed his robe, you still smelt like him. Mixed with your usual honey aroma, he can't help but nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck.

“I like you that much,” He's confessing into the darkness of the room, lips pressed against the skin of your neck. “Maybe, more.” It's the sincerity in his tone, every ounce of teasing completely absent. He means what he says and doesn't expect you to say anything back. Just wanted to tell you so that you knew.

And because of that, you feel your body warm. The swell in your chest growing, cheeks darkening. How did you manage to get so lucky... and unlucky at the same time. Refusing to think about the downside, wanting so badly to just enjoy this moment with him, you're pushing all the negative thoughts to the back of your mind.

Instead, you're turning in his arms. Fingers knitting through the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull him down toward you, lips finding his. He's kissing you back immediately, pouring all his passion, want, need into the movement of his lips. Pushing your tongue past his lips, head tilting for a better angle – fingers secured on the waistband of his bottoms as you hold him to you.

The groans that he emits from the feeling of your teeth nibbling on his lower lip has a gush of arousal heating up your core. His warm hand finds your wrist below the sheets, gently guiding it until your palm is pressed against the stiff hump in his pants. Fingers flex around it, forcing his hips to jerk forward.

You grin, pulling back from his lips to trail a line of wet kisses down the side of his neck toward his collarbones. Jimin has hands on your ass, kneading and molding the flesh with his chin rested on your shoulder so he can watch his hands. You didn't fail to notice the way he had hiked up your shorts to reveal more of your cheeks to his greedy eyes. 

“You're so hard. What have you been thinking about, baby?” You recycle his words from the other night and from the chuckle that falls from his lips, he's noticed. “Wanna taste you...” He's admitting, his own words making his cock jump underneath your palm. 

Hand slipping underneath the waistband of his pants... his boxers, easily you wrap your hand around his thick length. He curses out loud, teeth cutting into his lip to further silence himself. “You were so good to me last time... don't you think it's your turn?” Slowly, you drag your hand down to his base.

Jimin's nodding his head quickly at your words, “Yes, fuck.” He's basically throbbing in your grasp and you wonder when was the last time he has gotten off. Allowing yourself a moment to play with the thought of it possibly being before that night with you.

You whimper as his cock jumps underneath your light touch. It's as if he's getting harder as the anticipation grows and you can't deny the way that turns you on. His breaths leave Jimin's mouth when your hand is sliding up toward the head, “Holy fucking shit,” He gasps, just as you're dipping your head down a glob of spit rolling off your tongue and landing directly on top.

The slide of your hand is much easier now with the added lubricant. Jimin's hips rocking along with the movement of your hand. His moans interrupting the suction of his lips on your neck. Warm breath panted against your skin while you speed up the strokes of your hand, adding a twist in your wrist to add to his pleasure.

“That feels so good, Yn.” A dribble of precum slides down the side of his shaft following his whiny voice. You're wet just from the sound of his voice, the weight in your palm. How he's desperately rocking into you as if he's actually buried inside of you. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and do just that. Fuck you like he's been imagining since he first met you.

But he holds back because you had been hesitant before. Didn't want to push you too much, happy to take what he could. Leaving hickeys on your skin, your hands on him, your pretty moans that mixed with his hand filled the room. Yeah, that would be enough for now.

Palm closing a bit around him, mimicking the tightness he wants. “Y-you're gonna make me cum...” A stutter in the movements of his hips matches his strained stuttered words. You want him to fall apart, reach the level of euphoria he had brought you to. Strokes speeding up, thumb teasing his tip whenever you can reach it.

His breath is picking up, a string of curses leaving his lips as his thighs tense up. Arms tight around your waist, holding your close as his teeth scrape against the skin of your neck. Thighs rubbing against each other to create some friction of your own, you keep going. Not pulling back until he's groaning out your name, spilling his seed into the palm of your hand.

Jimin is lifting his head from the crook of your neck just in time to see you bring your palm to your mouth, licking his thick cum from your fingers. Eyes hooded but he doesn't dare to take his eyes off of you, the sight alone enough to have him wanting to go again. Wiping damp hand on his sheets, your eyes find his again and Jimin swears he was just shot in the heart. Breath knocked out of him just from the way you're looking at him.

“You're so perfect,” He's mumbling, because that's honestly the only word he can think of when it comes to you. A soft smile spreads across his face, hand reaching for his shoulder to gently push him onto his back. He lets you move him, getting yourself comfortable with your leg hooked around his waist. 

His hand finds your ass, easily slipping underneath the fabric of your shorts. Holding him close to you, head on his chest you ignore the guilt eating away at your heart. Trying hard to focus on the good parts about being with him... which was everything. If only the circumstances were different.

 Imagining what it would be like if things were like this. If you had only met him first, you could like him freely without feeling yourself shrink each time you were reminded of the sad fact. Jimin feels your mood shift but doesn't say anything. Continues to hold you close, his hand gently trying to soothe you. And with the gentle way he's rubbing your bottom, and the warmth of him underneath you – you're drifting to sleep.

At some point through the night, your position changed. Jimin's bare chest pressed against your back, hand between your thighs to find warmth. Legs entwined to ensure neither of you runs away. He's awake before you, plump lips landing soft kisses against your shoulder.

“Gotta wake up, baby.” Voice harsh from sleep, hushed as if he didn't actually want to wake you. “Wake up, I started the coffee maker and made pancakes,” He tries again, teeth nibbling at your skin and you're stirring.

Head shifting to look back at him, confusion written on your face not sure if you heard him correctly. “You made pancakes?” You question in your sleepy morning voice. Jimin grins, shaking his head before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“I'm practicing for our domestic life,” Laughing with a roll of your eyes, you reach down to pull his hand from inside your shorts. You sit up to pull the blanket off of your body, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stand. The sleeping guests downstairs suddenly become apparent to you, with the chatter coming from downstairs.

They were awake already? What time was it? Was Miju down there too? Rushing to stand in front of the mirror, you wipe and tug at yourself trying to get rid of any evidence of what happened here last night. Jimin had gotten up too, pulling his shirt and robe back onto his body. His hands dropping onto your hips.

“Thanks for last night,” He whispers, calming your frantic movements with his soft tone and the kiss he presses to the side of your face. “I'm sorry it makes you feel so shitty... you enjoy yourself, though, right? In the moment?” You don't remember the last time you were thanked for spending the night with someone, your presence treated as valuable. And you're sure you were never asked if you had enjoyed yourself.

“I did, yeah.” He smiles at your words, taking a backward step, allowing you to move from the mirror to find your shoes. “Me too,” He agrees with a smile and you notice the tint in his cheeks... the way he's no doubt replaying the moment in his mind.

You're giggling, as you stand with your shoes fastened. “Yeah, we know you enjoyed yourself.” He moves to close the space between you, lips finding your lips. “I need to go,” You're stopping him before he can slip any tongue, knowing all too well where he was heading with the way his fingers stroked the hem of your shorts.

“One more,” He holds his finger up between the toy of you, puppy dog pouting right in your face and it's so cute that you can't help but grant him one more kiss. One more turns into three which quickly turns into five and before you know it he's pulling you onto his lap as he lowers himself onto his bed.

Fingers buried in his hair, you use your grip to pull his head back – freeing your lips. You laugh at the way he chases your lips, “One more.” He mumbles and you're shaking your head, leaving a chaste kiss to his lips before you're standing from his lap.

“That was the last one,” You're back in the mirror, fixing appearance. So drunk on him that it slips your mind that you're supposed to be sneaking out of his room. He's a few steps behind you when you pull the door open, wide eyes finding Miju at the bottom of the stairs.

Her back is to you, deep in conversation with Joonie and Taehyung. They're making her laugh, body bowed furrow as her back shakes. They look so proud of themselves, little did they know she laughs like that all the time.

You're frozen in place, stuck. Lost on how you were going to get downstairs without her seeing you, she was right there! No doubt she'd ask why you were coming from upstairs when you should have met her at the tents last night.

Jimin is reaching for your wrist, ready to pull you back into the room when Miju is turning around. She sees you, confusion flashing over her features but she still smiles, saying something to the boys before she's turning to make her way up the stairs. Jimin is kind enough to put some distance between the two of you, hands shoved into the pocket of his sweats.

“Yn? How come you're in Minmin's room?” She doesn't look angry, just confused. Doesn't expect the worse of you, because you're her best friend and no way would you spend the night with her crush and try to sneak out the next morning undetected.

“Oh. I had to use the bathroom,” The lie rolls off of your tongue coated with a nervous laugh. “Have the cleanest one in the house,” Jimin is helping with a smile that has Miju's face morphing, a smile to match his lighting up her features.

“I'll use it next time, the one down there is so sticky,” She scrunches her nose up at the thought and he's laughing. Like actually laughing and you can't help but notice how easy this is for him. You feel like you're about to crack and he's all smiles and laughter.

You're moving from Jimin's side to stand beside Miju, reaching for her hand – you give it a slight tug. “Are you ready to go? I think I'm all social-ed out.” She pulls her gaze from Jimin to laugh at your words, nodding her head.

“Yeah, sure. See you later, Minmin!” She's waving at Jimin who nods his goodbye and you're pulling her along with you down the stairs and all the way out of the house. She calls quick goodbyes to Joonie and Taehyung as you pass them. Then falls into silence the entire walk to her house.

The silence is uncomfortable for you. Wishing that you could know what she was thinking. Wondering if she bought that half ass-ed lie back there or if she was waiting for the right moment to call you out for it. She didn't seem pissed, her usually smiling self as she admired the nature around her.

Maybe she didn't pick up on the swollen lips and fucked out eyes. Maybe it wasn't as obvious as you had convinced yourself it was. It wasn't like the two of you came out groping each other, plus you've used his bathroom before... so it made sense for you to go in his room and use it again, right?

Miju doesn't say anything until you're stopping in front of her door, ready to wave goodbye when she's stopping you. “I was wondering, where did you sleep last night?” She asks casually, keys dangling from the tips of her manicured fingers.

“Oh, yeah. On the couch. I ended up crashing,” You try to be as cool as Jimin with your lies, brushing off the question with a laugh. She's nodding her head, focus dropping to the keys in her hand. “That's weird, though, because I went to look for you... and the couch was empty.”

Heart sinking, urging yourself to control your facial expressions, not wanting to give anything away. Not ready to talk to her about this yet. Not even sure if this thing with Jimin was actually a thing. “The couch in the den. Did you check there?”

“Hm, I didn't.” Something flashes in her eyes, but it's so quick you can't really place it. “Did you see the girl Jimin was with then?” Miju is not looking at you anymore, putting all her focus on trying to pick out the right key to open the door. “He was with a girl?” You play dumb because that's exactly how you feel at the moment.

She's nodding, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “Yeah. On the balcony of the den. I thought it was you because of the jammies, but then he came and they started...” Miju shakes her head, stopping her words. “I guess you didn't see them, then?”

“I didn't,” You can feel the cracks in your heart, but can't keep the lies from falling from your lips. Knowing how hurt she'd be if she was to realize that it was actually you that she saw with Jimin. A huff of breath leaves her lips, eyes blinking as she lifts her head to look back at you. She looks the same way she does when she's about to cry and you want to reach out to console her, but you can't get yourself to move.

Miju doesn't let the tears slip, head shaking as she pushes a laugh through her lips. “He's a guy, right? No big deal. We're not even together. I just need to be bolder,” Her words oddly sound like you and you find yourself agreeing, nodding your head.

“Yeah. It'll be alright,” This time you're reaching for her, hand landing on your shoulder. She's shrugging you off, plastering a smile onto her face. “I'm gonna go in. I'll call you later.” She turns, easily finding the proper key to unlock the door.

You nod despite her having slipped past without sparing you another glance. With a heavy heart, you're leaving her porch. Guilt eating away at you with each step you took. And although it should be easy, you can't seem to land on the right thing to do. 

Know that your first instinct should be to stop, to cut all times with Jimin so you can properly call yourself a friend to Miju again... but the thought of never talking to Jimin again, never get to feel his lips, be wrapped up in his arms... makes you sick to your stomach.

There was no way you could have both, though. You needed to make a choice.

– girl code rule #1: never, ever, under any circumstances fall for your best friend’s crush. but what happens when your best friend’s crush checks all the boxes of your ideal guy… and to make matters worse… he’s crazy about you too.

↫ masterlist ↬

⇝ taglist:  @randomkoalablog​  @hehehehahahohohuhu​ @smoljams​​ @dee-ehn​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​ @sw33tnight​​ @butterflylion​​ @honeyoongles​​ @withlovestudyblr​​ @soulstaes​​ @bangtansonyeondayyum​​ @samros95​​ @korkanswers​​ @houseofarmanto​​ @marifujioka​​ @tae165​​ @uxwi​​ @trynavibewhileicry​​ @jinhitwhore​​ @preciouschimine​​ @yeontanie21​​ @aa-ronpa​​ @taefect94​​ @lee-karliah​​ @codeinebelle​​ @mochibabycakes​​ @diminieshoe​​ @fuddyize​​ @soloikeadates​​ @0xmysticx0​​ @bbyjoonies​​ @amoreguk​​ @diminieshoe​​ @jayyayyy17​​ @softlyjins​​ @bangtan-noona​​ @fan-atic-blog​​–c @fuck-expectations-people​​ @paradisetaemin​​ @nyamjinnie​​ @lilacdreams-00​​ @vsugakookie0104​​ @koostime​​ @la-evforia​​ @betysotelo18​​ @sunskook​​ @pastelpinksunflower​​ @kookiesjoonies​​ @sopetv​​ @tricethecharm​​

⇝ taglist: @chocobetterknot @simplysanha @falsegodtae @kookieswithtaeq @diorhobii @illwritetomorrow @angjeon @okblve @riverdale-kpop @alpaca1612 @hajiraa06 @mingisbabie @flamboyant-louie @bangtansbun @princecalpal @parkjammys @notmontae97 @unicornnomore @jiminsreads @kookoo-kachoo @hersheyheyhey @ratking101 @mini-coop25 @beeeb05 @ashleyjoyx @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @yoongissugarmommy @ladyartemesia @flantasticpr @lustremyg @vantaescupid @elliemeetsevil @p-polaroid @yousaybieberisaybiersack @btsbed @soperiorthanyou @kim-ji-hyeons-world @thia-aep @moonchildaera @singular-itae @fanfics-for-fun @triviasjms @kuppyjiminie @bangtan-dreamland @cainami @hyunaphordite @potaetertot @mypurplelamp @isophie305 @theneighborhoodfangirl​ @subtlepjiminie​ @baby-jichu @boraength @faeriegukkie @masterpiecejoonie

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

[tsugarubecker]

Rewatching Love, Victor season 2 and all I can think as I’m watching is that Benji is cooonstantly putting his own feelings aside and instead striving to put himself in Victor’s shoes and empathize with Victor. Victor, for his part, gladly takes that from Benji and then proceeds to fail to put himself in Benji’s shoes in return. (We’ll leave Benji’s issue with conflict avoidance/not stating what he wants aside for a second but we’ll get to that shortly.)

Long-ass post, prepare yourself :P

Example exchange: in ep 6 after Isabel is so nice to Rahim and Benji fails to be #stoked about it, Benji comes up to Victor at the coffee shop the next day and says something like hey, sorry I wasn’t supportive when you were so excited that your mom was being nice to Rahim. And Victor just goes thanks for saying so yeah she was really being nice to him and I think we made some real progress yesterday!

Like. Okay. rewind noises

Let’s do that whole exchange over again but in the way a healthy couple would, shall we?

Benji: Hey Victor. I’m sorry I wasn’t supportive yesterday when you were excited about your mom. I know you wanted me to be excited with you. Can I tell you a little bit about my own feelings around your mom?

Victor: of course you can.

Benji: Okay. To be honest, I feel really hurt when your mom gives me the cold shoulder. And that’s been something I’ve been dealing with for a while now. So, as much as I want to be supportive of you and excited for you when you see her seeming like she’s making some progress, it’s hard for me. Because it would hurt for me to get my hopes up that she’ll treat me better, only to be disappointed.

Victor: Damn. Wow. I’m so glad you told me how you feel about that. That makes a ton of sense. I would really like your support, because I love my mom and this whole thing with her is hard for me, but I understand now why it would be painful and complicated for you to get too excited. Now I get it. Thanks for telling me. I’ll keep that in mind when I bring it up to you from now on and we can navigate all of it together.

fast forward noises OOC cause I just wrote that as I thought about what I would say in a similar situation, but you get the idea.

Returning to Benji for a sec. I’m a cliiiiinically conflict avoidant person, and I recognize a lot of myself in Benji. He doesn’t want to take up space. He makes funny stories and jokes out of his trauma (strip club, crashing car into Wendys). He doesn’t stand up for himself even if he has a legitimate reason to be upset - he finds reasonable reasons to apologize for his part in the situation and tries to make amends. (Certainly not always a bad thing, just can definitely be a conflict avoidant thing.) I mean, we saw him behaving this way even in s1. Think about on their anniversary when Derek said “can we just go catch that show” and Benji said “you go ahead, I’ll catch up” instead of “hey, I know you don’t care about anniversaries but I do. This means a lot to me. I want to spend time together.”

So yeah, Benji has some serious issues with avoiding talking about his own feelings, standing up for himself, etc if it basically doesn’t “go with the flow” of what the other person is thinking or feeling. Conflict avoidant. He doesn’t want to rock the boat. I don’t know why, yet. I don’t think we as the audience know why at this point, but I hope the writers will get into it. Probably isn’t “because alcoholism” - rather, I think the alcoholism is another symptom of the same issue.

Victor, for his part (and I’ve touched on this in another post), probably has spent so much of his life being the fixer for his family that he kind of unconsciously latches on to people who will give him a break from that and take care of him (think Simon, for instance??? Lol). And he forgets that it’s not black or white, it’s not one or the other: care or be cared for. In a relationship it goes both ways. I really think he got this massive crush on Benji, put him on a pedestal, made him out to be perfect; almost saw him as kind of a savior. Someone who could come, sweep him up, and make everything okay. Fulfill all his fantasies. Victor doesn’t seem to see Benji as a real person yet. And he doesn’t seem to realize that he needs to proactively take care of Benji, not just let Benji keep taking care of him. That they need to meet each other halfway.

And speaking of avoidant people, Victor does seem to have a pattern with this behavior doesn’t he? Dates Mia -> not working out -> run to someone who is new and seems perfect. Dates Benji -> things are complicated and hard -> oh look a handsome boy who is wonderful in every way (runs to someone who is new and seems perfect) (and will fix all his problems). Boy needs to stop running off to the next person who’s gonna “fix all his problems”. He needs to invest in his current partner. He needs to invest in being the one to care about his partner, being the one to put in the effort. Not just being the one to be cared for. He needs to stop waiting for someone to come sweep him up and fix all his problems. It’s not realistic, Victor. Get yer shit together & learn how to be a better bf. For reals. Smh

That went off on a little tangent lol, but honestly, at the end of the day, none of this is really even either of these guys’ faults - yes Victor puts Benji on a pedestal and is just beginning to see him as a real person with complexity and flaws, but to be fair Benji basically did the same thing: put Victor on a pedestal. “I broke up with him. I just want to be with someone where I can be myself and that’s enough. That’s how you make me feel, Victor.” = a really similar pattern to what we’ve seen Victor do. Relationship failing, abandon ship for the shiny, new, and better-seeming option. I’m not saying that that’s always the wrong choice. I don’t think that it is. But I am saying that both Benji and Victor are experiencing something very natural: having big crushes, letting infatuation and rose-tinted glasses go to their head, and then experiencing whiplash when their partner isn’t perfect. Honestly I think we’ve all been there to some extent.

At least in s3, now that they’ve seen some low times and their rose-tinted glasses are off, they should get a chance to create a deeper bond if they choose to do that (I feel confident that they eventually will). Benji needs to own his conflict avoidance and start advocating for his wants, needs, and feelings. Victor needs to recognize that although Benji seemed like a dream boy and is way more experienced yada yada, he’s not there to save or take care of Victor - he’s just a person, who also needs to be taken care of sometimes, and Victor needs to meet him halfway in their relationship and do that for him. They need to be able to exchange care as equals.

There I fixed their whole relationship you’re welcome afhffjhgfgjfgjg

(…….oh god I just realized how the writers are gonna have Victor figure out that sometimes he needs to take care of Benji too, and it’s totally gonna be bc Benji relapses with alcohol. Probably. Sounds like a TV-show move, doesn’t it?)

[prometheanglory]

💀 👹 💘 for chase and vinh

as a fore note, this got…. Long. Very Long. i blame the sins (and subsequent need for a sins analysis and how it related to them). i cannot stop thinking or writing once i have the chance to analyze smth. it’s very heavy burden... 

💀 If they were one of the 7 sins, what sin would they be?

chase: i feel… the sin of pride is more than fitting for chase! we best recognize pride as something born of arrogance - and the crime within pride and arrogance is the exaltation of the self. in a more pious context, this is immoral because it means that there is an existence that worships its own authority rather than honoring that of God’s. 

now, if you’ve spent enough time on my blog, you’ll pick up that i enjoy a good deal of casual blasphemy and desecration of the sacred. not in the scope of “ooh 😭 Gods (and all subsequent metaphors of authority) are so cruel and evil...!!!” i just think it���d be better suited to stagrove (and ultimately chase’s) narrative and tone if we were to leave it as an overall feeling of “who cares”. 

it’s in that rejection of authority, the nonchalant and complete disregard of any recognized prestige that we find the root of chase’s pride. the arrogance is born of no gods, no kings, no laws; the way he exists is in a very self-centered universe that gives the cold shoulder to anyone who he has already deemed a lost cause and undeserving of his respect or acknowledgment.

There is no one who could ever rank below him, but there remains the undisputable fact that he will never hold anyone above himself. he is the authority, he is the pawn (and everything else between) — that’s the exact standard that he holds everyone else to too.

aint no gods to heed your prayers, no saints to hold your hands, and nobody else capable of carrying the weight of your own shit quite like yourself — the most reliable presence that you have is yourself, and yourself alone.

vinh: honestly? i feel that her sin is lust. not in the scope of sexuality and fornication, but closer to the idea that was presented in the Septuagint (and some other versions of the Bible), in which lust is presented as a sin of ‘desire’. it’s a concept i like to play around with vinh a lot, mainly with the intent of deconstructing the premise around fire as a very 'devouring' force! before i go any deeper tho, there is the presence of the seven virtues to keep in mind — specifically, the parallel to lust being chastity.

i don't particularly aim to make a narrative around the immorality of chastity and the exoneration of lust, but there is something to be considered in the way that it does create a conflict between the idea of 'satisfying a desire' vs 'has no desire'.

vinh's sin is that she has a hunger... an active and great need (and subsequent want) for duty, dignity, and security... she craves intimacy, responsibility, and whatever else she can get her hands on…. and she refuses to let herself derive any satisfaction from it…. bc to know satisfaction is to know desire…. 🙈

the fire that cannot open its maw, the fire deprived of the ability to consume despite the hunger that haunts it…. the sinner that cannot stomach the existence of nor satisfy her lust because she is still trying to live in the shadow of the virtuous maiden who has never known craving….. the presence of lust.... it is elevated to higher status just bc of how much effort goes into trying to repress it... 🤤

👹 How much patience does you OC have? Are they patient? Or are they easily irritable?

chase: teeeechnically he's very patient? depends on how you want to frame it, because he's willing to wait as long as it takes to achieve and perfect his goals; he'll wait around forever for his dorm mates, his friends, and his family - he's got all the time in the world for those two things! however that same sentiment can't really be said for strangers, other dorms, and... well. you know. people he just can't be bothered to acknowledge. i wouldn't say that he gets irritable, but he does get very brusque and probably cuts it short if it's really feeling like a waste of his time.

vinh: patience might as well be her middle name at this point, because there's really no contest to just how willing she is to wait (and how capable she is of waiting). in my brain, she is the very best example of yielding... the imagery of a sitting dog, you know….. obedient and watchful for the command of when to heel... not that she's itching to jump up and dash after anything. she's always been one to wait more than she honestly should. if anything, it’s second nature to her to wait.

💘 What kind of person is their ideal type?

chase: his main concern is whether or not they’re overly-pushy, because something that will irk him endlessly is to constantly have his privacy invaded, to be constantly prodded, or routinely knocked around. i think he definitely would still be pretty interested in someone who’s more ‘spirited’ tho. not that they have to be charging out the door and screaming at every opportunity, but considering how chase himself is a pretty lethargic guy — he appreciates the extra energy. if he had to sum up his ideal in a sentence though, it’d be along the lines of someone who can be on the same page as him (and usually is on the same page as him) but ultimately isn’t afraid to go and do their own thing, with or without him. he appreciates independence! individuality! gutsiness! and an overall sense of consciousness and hardiness!

vinh: as much as she would like to say ‘anything is fine’ for her ideal type, the truth is that she is a very, very reluctant person and the thing she needs most in a relationship is security. not that she wants to always be heavily doted on, but it takes… a lot to get the message through to her that there isn’t something innately wrong or unsatisfactory about her performance as a partner. someone who can maintain her trust and she doesn’t feel particularly daunted by having her full faith in their word alone — or maybe just someone who accepts her weakening heart and waning resolve, but cares for her puny reality either way. that’s her ideal, not that she’d ever actually acknowledge it or say it out loud tho. however she will admit that she greatly appreciates someone whose lead she can follow.

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

Someone made an incredible animation of the scene in hidden inventory where Gojo gets screamed at by teen girls fawning over him, and it's beautiful ✨

https://youtu.be/5l9_O51-YYs

Also, it highlights my previous point that when Gojo's confronted by women flirting with him, he doesn't really do... Anything. He's just chill about it. And the little °^° face he makes and the little confused "hm?" from the manga panel in the beginning could indicate that Gojo might not be hit on by girls as often as we think- Jujutsu sorcerers are busy and have even their time off interrupted on the regular. Other than being mildly amused, we don't see Gojo actively bask or pursue attention from women (other than Utahime ofc, which could be because she's as straight-laced as Nanami).

The little content smile he gives at the end basically says it all: Gojo enjoys the attention, but most likely isn't interested in pursuing anything more than that, including sexual relations (with more reasons from my previous posts).

I could see Gojo being the type to allow himself to appreciate just a bit of affection from random women he encounters on missions and then casually walking off with a lazy wave of his hand- just like he did with Miwa.

The man's on a mission (literally) with the goal to change the world. Virgin Gojo is very possible seeing how unaffected he is by women throwing themselves at him- or at least, he allows himself a moment to enjoy the attention but is quick to dismiss the thought from his mind to focus on his duty.

Honestly, non virgin Gojo is still possible, but unless we see Gojo actually show interest or actively flirt with someone (which seems unlikely), we may never know. To me, analyzing Gojo with his interactions with other characters (not his antics) makes me think it's more likely Gojo is a virgin than not, simply bc the argument for Gojo being a non virgin is his looks and immaturity (or his act of immaturity, we know Gojo thinks in a much more complex way than he lets on) which I'd argue is not an accurate description of his character, because that's only a part of it, and is in fact only what Gojo shows on the surface. And there's plenty of reasons why his lifestyle would make such getaways difficult. Also, Gojo's lack of enthusiasm for it. Gojo allows girls to fawn over him, but he hardly stokes the fire more than just taking off his glasses when they asked him to.

If Gojo was more like Osamu Dazai from Bungou Stray Dogs who flirts with every women he sees, I would have an easier time believing he would not be a virgin, but his lifestyle, behavior, and even his Six Eyes and his goal makes me think he wouldn't choose to constantly go on small getaways like that. Personally, I'd say Gojo spends more of his time plotting and maximizing his efforts on recreating Jujutsu Society.

Really, when Gege said he couldn't see Gojo being faithful to a woman could be because he's already committed to his job. Not because he's out womanizing, but even because the type of woman he'd commit to is so rare. And even if he did find a woman he'd commit to, being the ENTP he is means he's incapable of immediately recognizing and acting on his emotions- not because he doesn't have them, but because they're not really his forté. He'd rather rationalize his behavior than attempt to understand his own feelings. It'll take time and patience, but Gojo committing is still a possibility.

Honestly, I'd like to hear why people would think Gojo's a cheater/womanizer to begin with? Besides him teasing Utahime, Gojo's been pretty respectful to Shoko and Mei Mei. He even complimented and recognized Mei Mei's strength as a sorcerer. He didn't flirt once with the hoard of girls fawning over him. In fact, he was quick to focus on his mission despite the attention. I don't think Gojo's ever even teased Shoko about anything (other than commenting on her terrible way of explaining things, which is more of a fact than teasing). Though, correct me if I'm wrong.

Also, I haven't mentioned Riko much in previous posts and idrk why lol. But while Gojo is dominated by logical thinking, he's emotionally inept enough to notice Riko's mood. He may seem cold in how he comforted her by saying he'd leave her behind, but it's more of his ENTP personality that has him expressing his emotions in a more objective manner- even if it hurts, it's the truth, and that's fine isn't it? (Typical ENTP way of thinking).

Also slight tangent I read that one long meta about Gojo's interaction with Riko someone linked, and I'm completely appalled that they would think Gojo is only "pretending" to have emotions, "mimicking" them even! That he's incapable of truly feeling when in fact it's inherently characteristic of any ENTP to express themselves in a way that, to others, would be considered "cold" and unempathetic. It just goes to show just how misunderstood ENTPs are. They only make up 3% of the world so are often confused for socios/narcs/psychos which is understandable-

But I wanna make one thing clear: all sociopaths could be considered ENTPs. But not all ENTPs are sociopaths. (Switch Socio with psycho/narc/etc and it still works). Why?

Purpose.

Arrogance, boastfulness, unrefined emotional sensitivity, recklessness, impulsiveness- all of those fall below the importance of Purpose. Regardless of how Gojo "acts," it's been expressed time and time again- Gojo acts for the sake of the next generation. Sociopaths/Antisocial Personality Disorder/Psychopaths have one most common defining starting point: "it all starts with cruelty to animals and lack of response to their own actions, or actions of other people."

Let's make it more simple: regardless of whatever end of the spectrum sociopathy can be- high functioning, low functioning- antisocial personality disorder, in it's most simple terms, along with psychopathy and narcissism, condensed into one common trait is very clear: Their actions, while easily blendible into society, are for the sole purpose of pleasuring themselves.

Why don't people notice those with these disorders? Because their *behavior* is so similar to not just the typical ENTP, but also the ISTP AND ESTP. They can easily be mistaken for common members of society, but again: their sole purpose is the pursuit of pleasure themselves, while acting with complete disregard for the consequences of not just their own actions but others'. Staying in one job for extended periods of time is especially rare for a sociopath in particular, and this is one very clear difference between Gojo and a sociopath.

Gojo is willing to spend the rest of his life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer for the sake of others. This sentence alone defies any inclination that he could be a sociopath regardless of any other symptoms commonly associated with sociopathy, such as emotional insensitivity, hostility, risk taking behavior, lack of restraint, and impulsivity- there's a reason such people blend in with society, and that's because such symptoms are common with *any* person, regardless of personality type. Other than with the higher ups, Gojo hardly shows the anger, irritability, or general discontent that a sociopath is most commonly is associated with as their established mood - and even if he did, would being easily irritatable while in the position of the Strongest, the one who carries the burden of establishing a new future of Jujutsu Society on his shoulders alone be so unrealistic? That is why Purpose is so important.

If Gojo truly was a Sociopath, he would have dipped long before Jujutsu Kaisen had even started.

And I apologize for yet another tangent! Someone said Gojo sees his students as weapons or tools to be used in furthering his agenda. While that is not necessarily untrue, the implication is hardly close to reality. Like someone else commented, Gojo goes far and beyond for his students. While he is undoubtedly lacking in his ability to show affection in the most traditional of ways, it's clear that Gojo cares for his students-and others- deeply, whether that be when he went to see Yuta on his business trip to ensure Yuji would be safely taken care of in his absence, when he goes out of his way to personally supervise his students, when he willingly spends a whole day with Nanami just to ask him to mentor Yuji for him (in the Light Novel) regardless of Nanami's disdain, when he turned his Infinity off to allow Yaga to punish him (Gege made it clear in the manga that Gojo had done so to be a good role model for his students and that he recognizes his behavior deserves punishment), and when Gojo commented that he didn't want to think any of his students would be the traitor. Gojo does not express himself as most people do- he's only one of the most misunderstood personality types (on record, along with a few other personalites if you've researched them) and to say people have misinterpreted his character is much more plausible when even in real life, people who behave like Gojo are statistically reported to be misapprehended more often than more populated personality types. When inspected closely, there are so many ways Gojo himself expresses his care for other people, only hidden thinly behind the surface of his lofty attitude and uncaring demeanor. It only takes a few looks at his behavior, not his mouth, to recognize how much he goes out of his way for his students, doing he things that don't necessarily help further his agenda simply because he wants to, not because he has to. Changing the world isn't even something the average person would strive to do, yet Gojo makes it his life goal to accomplish. How could a heartless, emotion mimicking person possibly endure the strife necessary to accomplish such a task? It's appalling.

Gojo is more charitable than most people on the earth, simply because of the perseverance and diligence he takes to withstand the stress and hardships of Jujutsu Society for others. Remember that he chose to become the Strongest, it didn't happen overnight, and in becoming the Strongest, he carries the heaviest burden.

That's without mentioning that even though Gojo is the Strongest, and while to most he seems to proudly state so, it's clear that despite Gojo's antics, he recognizes his weaknesses as a sorcerer and is able to rely on others to make up for them. He had asked Nanami to mentor Yuji because he acknowledged his own flaws as a teacher and that Nanami would have a better capacity than him in that area (in Light Novel). He travelled to see Yuta to ask him to care for Yuji in case something happened to him- and Gojo knows that it's possible that he could be defeated somehow, someway. He's not so deluded to think he's untouchable, even despite his playfulnesses. He is always thinking ahead, calculating his next move while understanding his own shortcomings, acting prudently to ensure a better future.

He is a much deeper and complex character if one only takes the time to look past his antics and analyze his behavior- Something many people in real life seem to miss, and that is the true reason why Gojo struggles to commit.

Sorry for the long tangent and repetitiveness in the beginning lol! Back to the main issue!

Tl;dr there's more evidence of Gojo being a virgin who's more focused on work than pleasure. There's plenty of handsome men who don't seek out sex for reprieve but seek mental stimulation instead for relief. It's totally normal. Gojo could even spend his free time playing video games. He did admit to spending long hours beating 99 years of Momotarou Dentetsu to Geto. He's a gamer, and we know how gamers are commonly known for being virgins lol. Gojo could even be asexual for all we know. He could even be demisexual- someone who doesn't pursue sexual pleasure unless he's made an emotional connection with then. He doesn't necessarily have to even be straight or bi. Therefore, Gojo is very likely to be 28 year old virgin, and there's nothing wrong or strange about that.

Sources: ENTP articles, statistics on mbti rarity, other mbti articles, some quick Google searches, articles on sociopathy, psychopathy, narcissism, and antisocial disorders, etc, the manga, light novels, other metas in threads I remember reading, the anime, graphic organizers

Thanks for reading! 🙏

- 🤔

AHHHH CAN I JUST SAY THE ANIMATION IS DAMN GOOD 🔥🔥🔥 this scene in the manga is absolutely iconic prepare yourselves for season 2 😤 I literally had to stop the video and stare at him...I think one of the reasons Gojo behaved that way is becuz during childhood he probably didn't go out and be around people hence his confused reaction with the screaming teens. I mean everyone enjoys being complimented and getting attention from time to time and gojo is not an exception to this. Yes I definitely agree that when Gege said that he probably meant he's too busy for a relationship. The way it was translated made alot of people confused hence the player/cheater gojo was born. But then also the remember the comment he made when Gojo won the popularity poll? "Pick Nanami instead" ahhh hilarious

MY GAWD 🤔 ANON CAN I JUST SAY THAT YOU'RE AMAZING?! You explained in a way that easy to understand and you made statements backing it up with evidence. I learned from your ask than I ever did in university 😂 wow its truly fascinating though I never knew much personality types especially ENTPs I DON'T BELIEVE FOR ONE SEC GOJO IS A SOCIOPATH OR PSYCHOPATH fight me if you do. Exactly exactly just as anon said "He is a much deeper and complex character if one only takes the time to look past his antics and analyze his behavior." I COULDN'T AGREE MORE 😤 thank you so much for once again educating the community I'm a fan of you 🤔 anon ❤

[stolensiren]

[meta] What are your muses closest relationships, good and bad. And how do they define who your muse was, is, and will become?

[meta] Cass is very good at carving out close relationships for herself, aided by her unconscious tendency to use her abilities to sense what a person needs and then become that thing. She has a habit of overcompensating for the loneliness she felt growing up by surrounding herself with meaningful relationships, which isn’t a bad thing at all, but it does mean this is going to be a long list, so we’re gonna pop a readmore on this one!

Levi and Marina both kind of stepped in as ‘parental’ type figures for Cass. They both work to make her feel unconditionally loved in a way she never really did before White Crest, and their acceptance of her goes a long way to heal the wounds left by her biological parents’ abandonment of her. I do think we’ll inevitably see some kind of tension here given their differences in morality, and I think it’ll be fun to see Cass caught between family and morals because it’s not something she’s ever really had to choose between before.

Metzli is the first person Cass built a meaningful relationship with in White Crest, though it’s definitely something that took some time to build up. They’re the one who taught Cass about the supernatural world, which undoubtedly saved her life bc girl was out here fighting ‘crime’ without knowing that most crime in White Crest is supernatural related :/ Metzli was the first person Cass adopted as part of her found family, and having them as an older sibling figure has shown her how and when to ask for help and accept that help! Metzli also showed her that you can be what someone needs without disappearing in the process, and that’s so important for Cass who, up until meeting Metzli, absolutely buried pieces of herself to make herself easier for people to like.

Correy is a lot like the fun, grumpy uncle Cass never knew she was missing. They got off on the wrong foot, and she probably wouldn’t have made any kind of an effort to change that if not for his friendship with Marina and Levi, but now that she’s gotten to know him and wormed her way into his heart, she’s glad for it. 

Teddy is the stepbrother Cass never wanted :/ Sorry Ted. At this point in time, she definitely views him as a ‘threat’ to the family she’s created. She has a lot of issues surrounding the concept of being ‘replaceable’ that go back to her time in foster care, and Teddy’s presence and his importance to Levi particularly stir up a lot of this. She liked Teddy before she knew about his connection to Levi, but now she’s mostly just afraid of him. She views him as the thing with the biggest potential to destroy the ‘family’ she’s carved out for herself by taking her spot in it, and it’s going to take time for her to warm up to him and recognize that there’s room for them both. She’s like a 2 year old whose mom just had a new baby :/ those are supposed to be HER toys and HER people, tf is this baby doing here?

Jonas gave Cass a job and allowed her to take the first steps in the journey of shifting away from crime... which is going to be a slow journey because she does still think crime is kind of fun, low key. Jonas took a pretty big chance on her and she’d be grateful for it even if he didn’t go on to become a very good friend on top of that, but he did. I think Cass’s initial intention was to manipulate Jonas... and maybe steal, like, a couple things from his shop... but she quickly changed her mind at his gentle treatment of her. It’ll be fun seeing how their friendship develops now that they both realize the other knows about the supernatural world, and when Cass does eventually feel comfortable enough to tell Jonas what she is, it’ll be soft for her to have someone else who accepts her for it.

Ari is definitely one of Cass’s closest friends, and one of the few people in her life who knows what she is. Ari was one of the first people Cass chose to tell about being a siren, and her getting to make that choice was very important. Ari is also one of the few people who knows that Cass moonlights as a superhero, which was less something Cass chose to tell her and more something that was discovered accidentally, but Cass is glad she knows it now. This friendship is one that’s very much built on mutual respect and love and it’s something they both deserve a lot. Ari’s support is definitely something Cass relies on heavily, and something she’ll continue to rely on as she navigates her life.

Sloane is someone Cass can act like a normal twenty-something around which is so, so important! The way they both know that the other knows about the supernatural even if they never ask how or talk about it directly is very fun, and it will be an Ordeal when the other shoe drops and they both figure out what the other is. Cass’s relationship with Sloane really represents a lot of what she wants out of life, which is someone to hang out with who shares her weird humor and ideas of fun well enough that she can be unapologetically herself without having to worry about whether or not she’s overstaying her welcome.

Macleod is also an important presence in her life, due in part to her relationship with Metzli but also because she’s the only person who really knows in just what way Cass is struggling right now. It’ll be interesting to see, going forward, if Cass allows herself to take advantage of the fact that Macleod knows about her search for ‘redemption’ and what it means for her by leaning on her or if she pushes her away in an attempt to hide her head in the sand, which is something she has a bad habit of doing.

There are definitely more people who are very important to Cass’s development but... for now, we’re going to leave it at this because Cass is a social butterfly and I could go on for hours tbh. 

[tundrainafrica]

i really thought hange was non-binary bc the one who said hanges gender was up for interpretation was kodansha us but isayama asked for gender neutral pronouns right?

here!

I’m gonna answer all of the gender asks in one go because for one, I don’t think I wanna flood my own feed and my own tumblr with the same arguments. 

I think a lot of the questions on Hange’s gender and the topic of  gender and sexuality overall are kinda intertwined and I feel like for anyone who actually reads my stuff, it’s better understood as one big wall of text. 

So I was wondering, is that song the absolute proof about hange's gender?

No. I think the interpretation of the song which people are using to prove that Hange’s nonbinary is very western centric. I actually did research around this song and knowing what I know about Japanese culture, I actually interpret the song as a way for Japanese people to break out from gender norms. 

For people who are not aware, Japan is incredibly strict with gender norms. The LGBTQ community is not as progressive as it is in Western countries (I mean gay marriage isn’t completely legalized yet). And just looking at it from the stand point of gender roles and gender expectations, despite the progressive thinking, there are a lot of things Japanese men and women have to conform to just to be respected in everyday society. Because in Japan, the community has always been more important than the individual and it’s honestly the same for most asian countries as well. 

A lot of the pressure of living in Japan, working with Japanese people is the pressure to conform and I’ve seen my friends do it through small things like getting bangs (because all Japanese women have bangs apparently), wearing make up when going out (because this is generally an accepted for all Japanese people) and always dressing your best because in that manner women are held to an incredibly high standard in Japan. And this goes similarly for men who are constantly pressured to be the breadwinner in the family. If your wife is making more than you, be ready to hear people talk. I know these expectations exist in a Western setting too but Japan is incredibly stiff as a society and this is one reason why, despite having numerous opportunities to moveto Japan myself, I am not at all entertaining that possibility. I have worked in a Japanese company and I hated it and moved to a western company right after six months. I have completely accepted the fact that there is no mobility career wise from a non-Japanese (and a woman at that) in Japanese society. 

In conformity, hierarchies etc, Japan is its own monster. That’s why when songs like Jibunrashiku, Hitchcock (by Yorushika) or Shisoukan (by Yorushika) come out, for one it’s in Japanese so I wouldn’t approach the songs from an English and as a Japanese speaker and someone who is pretty familiar with Japanese culture, I can’t help interpret that song as a social commentary for the shitty parts of Japanese society and how they tend to shoot the concept of an ‘individual’ down. 

But does that mean I completely shoot down the idea that Hange is NB? 

NO. Yams said so himself, Hange’s gender is unknown. But at the same time, Yams recognizes the fact that in the anime and in the live action, Hange is a female. If Yams were that adamant to make Hange NB, I think he would have at least made more of an effort to police how she is depicted in the anime and in the live action. 

 His exact words were:　「ハンジは彼（彼女）みたいな、ちょっと浮世離れした、枠にとらわれない自由な感じで描きたかったんです。」If I roughly translated it to English, “I wanted to draw Hange as someone otherworldly, free from the confines of gender.”

Tbh, I wanted to avoid these gender asks altogether but I’ve seen the environment in twitter and the ways many people approach gender, particularly ‘nonbinary’ or genderfluid and it really just doesn’t sit well with me. For one, what’s up with all these rules on how to approach our nonbinary and LGBTQ friends? What’s up with all these accusations that if we don’t follow them to a T, then we’re suddenly transphobic or homophobic? 

The fact that we’re creating all these rules on how to go about her nonbinary gender for one, just defeats the whole purpose of Hange being a free bird in the first place who wouldn’t have cared and who wouldnt’ ever have been confined to gender in the first place. 

I mean the establishment of set rules and social norms on how to navigate gender, sex, sexuality and gender roles is the reason why we had heternormativity in the first place. And what I can see, yes, we did get progressive, we did start recognizing other genders, other ways of thinking but the danger in all this is that, we’re once again creating frameworks and norms about how people that identify as these genders are supposed to act. And this defeats the whole purpose of why we recognized concepts of other sexualities, other genders and breaks from gender roles in the first place. 

We wanted to show these people that their feelings are valid, that the way they’re navigating their relationships and their identities are valid and the heternormative society we’ve lived in that has been condemning for so long, was flawed, was wrong. 

But the thing is, with the establishment of all these social norms on how to navigate our relationships with LGBTQ people and how to navigate our own gender, sexuality, sex and role is just making us regress back to that shitty heteronormative society of a hundred years ago. Because suddenly, everyone is questioning once again ‘How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m nb?” “How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m trans?” “How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m LGBT?”  

And we’re creating these abstract ideas of how exactly, being genderfluid is supposed to feel like. Am I really supposed to be going by ‘they?’ Am I supposed to be uncomfortable with CIS pronouns?

And If I don’t go through this process… If I don’t feel this way then maybe I’m not NB? Maybe I’m not Trans? Maybe I’m not LGBT? And if I don’t conform to this clear cut idea of what NB is which people set up for me, god forbid I might just be transphobic or homophobic. 

And Here’s the thing, everyone’s journey to self discovery is unique and there is no exact way to go about your gender or identity. I find it terrifying actually that creating all these clear cut rules have built misconceptions in so many people already on what they are supposed to feel like when they decide to identify with a certain gender which is no different from long ago when people had to hide the fact that they liked people of the same gender because god forbid they might just be persecuted for being gay. 

Creating these frameworks, these incredibly strict rules on how someone is supposed to navigate relationships with LGBTs and their own personal identities is only making it all the more dangerous for people who are in the process of discovering themselves. 

Back in college, I used to accompany a friend to a clinic when he was starting HRT treatments and before he started them, he had to consult with a doctor and the consultation lasted months. Before all that, they gave him a checklist of ‘feelings,’ which if he does experience them, he checks it and if he does check enough of them and agrees with a huge chunk of them, then he might have gender dysphoria and maybe the HRT treatments and sex reassignment was for him. It was a hundred item checklist,  pages full of waivers, warnings and questions about his own experiences with his gender identity. And the fact that he had to consult for months after on that? There must be a reason. 

Maybe because the academe realizes, maybe because those adept on the field on gender realize that gender is too complex of a subject to have been boxed into these categories in the first place. 

And this whole discourse or I wouldn’t say discourse more of like, this ‘pushing of agendas’ as to say, ‘this is how being gender fluid or non binary is supposed to feel like’ this is how being transgender is supposed to feel like and if you don’t fit it to a T then you’re not transgender or you’re not nb. Or if you don’t fit it all, maybe you’re just transphobic is dangerous for many reasons. Either it gatekeeps people who want to explore their gender further. Or it forces people to have to conform to these and force themselves to ‘feel’ all of these things in the first place. 

And god, this is just the gender issue, I haven’t even explored the sexuality, gender roles or biological issue.  

i mean pronouns are important but they don’t really reflect someone’s gender??? like there’s people who use he/they, she/they or all pronouns(? they just don’t conform to gender binary ahaha

Given the environment on twitter and having witnessed the bullying first hand that came with one writer who is active on twitter using she/her pronouns for Hange, I feel like my own writing and my own POV on how I go about my writing and how I approach the gender of Hange (since I strictly use she/her) might just be a ticking time bomb and I might find myself at the end of whatever hate war or ‘education’ or as I like to just refer to as bullying, one day. 

I believe though I at least have enough knowledge and awareness of the LGBTQ situation and I think I did put a lot of thought already into this before I made my decision to use ‘she’ to refer to Hange.

(And tbh, you can be nonbinary and you can be female at the same time and I’ve written about that multiple times already BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME CATEGORY. And creating this mutual exclusivity between being nonbinary and female just kinda invalidates a lot of those people who are still deciding where exactly they fall in this complex web of identity discovery)

As someone who generally mainly hangs out with LGBT people and i have been doing this since high school by the way, and as someone who has tried all the sexualities on the spectrum, I talked to my asexual friends about possibly being asexual, I have experimented with women and sometimes, I just had dry spells and it just so happened that in the end of all these, I fell in love with a guy but I really believe that gender is such a flexible thing and even though I am with aguy right now, I still simp over lesbians, gays, ciswomen, transgenders because simping isn’t about gender. 

And these set of rules on how to navigate genders is just invalidating the experiences of people who are flitting in between the two identities and it just hinders the process of self discovery for a lot of people. 

Anyway, the point is, there is only one statement I found fundamental when approaching my relationships with the LGBT community and my own perspective on my self identity. 

Recognition of someone’s feelings and their journey to a gender identity and the pronouns that come with it are important.

Then someone might go “THEN WHY DON’T YOU RESPECT HANGE’s NON BINARY PRONOUNS. Because just because someone is nonbinary doesn’t mean they automatically go for they. Just because someone is non-binary, doesn’t mean I have to use every single pronoun on the spectrum. The only one who can tell me what pronouns they want used on them is the person in question. 

(I actually read an argument somewhere that going for ‘they’ just because someone is NB is transphobic lmfao. Assuming someone’s pronouns is apparently transphobic too lmfao.)

AND HANGE IS FICTIONAL. And we will never hear about which pronoun she would have wanted in the first place and I think the great ‘nontransphobic’ in-between is just letting people interpret characters how they want to interpret characters in this fictional world (And Hange can be both interpreted as nb and female). It’s the policing which makes the whole process of self discovery, the process of navigating genders all the more difficult for a lot of people. 

And policing how exactly people should navigate gender and sexuality is just gatekeeping. Hange is everyone’s character. The only gender and sexuality identity people have complete jurisdiction on, is their own. And this policing of what exactly certain journeys to discovery are supposed to feel like is inherently harmful for those who are still in the process of deciding for themselves where they stand. 

And going back to what Yams said “I wanted to draw Hange as someone otherworldly, free from the confines of gender/sexuality/gender roles.” I agree with that. 

Because even though I do use ‘she’ with Hange, I do not firmly believe that Hange is a cisgender heterosexual female either. I just believe there are so many more layers to her whole identity and I believe similarly for every single person. Just concluding for one’s self that Hange is nonbinary with a very narrow minded view of what non binary just generally defeats the whole purpose of being ‘free from the confines of gender’ and hinders a lot of discourse and analysis on Hange’s identity over all.

I mean, I don’t know if people agree with this but in the decades I have spent with my close friends figuring out their gender identities, changing pronouns, transitioning, coming out to their parents, here is one thing I noticed. They weren’t asking for a celebration of their gender or sexuality, they weren’t asking for all these policing on how people should approach them. All they wanted was for their feelings to be validated, normalized as an everyday occurrence. I think the point of all these LGBTQ discourse (and by extension race and sex discourse) were all there to just make all these different identities normalized and to completely eradicate the concept of a negative bias or an other which was generally plaguing society for a long time. 

And as their friends, I have never approached them as this champion who would make sure EVERYONE RESPECTED THEM IN THAT WAY IN TWITTER THEY BELIEVE LGBTQ PEOPLE SHOULD BE RESPECTED. All these nonverbal rules I have set up for myself on how to go about being friends with them is because I wanted them to be happy and comfortable in their shoes. And what were the types of things they appreciated? Me hiding it from their parents until they were ready to come out, me helping make their relationship work with their partner, me respecting the pronouns they requested for themselves, me accompanying them to HRT when their parents refused. 

And you know what, that was only a facet of our friendships. My friends’ gender identities and sexualities never dominated discourse. None of them were the ‘token gay friend,’ the ‘token lesbian friend’ or the ‘token asexual friend’ or the ‘token NB friend.’ They were all people I genuinely care about who just happened to have fallen in love with someone of the same gender. They were just people who just happened to be uncomfortable with their original sex. But I would never just describe them as just that. My friend who just so happens to identify as assexual makes a great companion on a night out drinking. My friend who just so happens to be trasngender is really great with logistics and planning and was super helpful and I was eternally grateful when we worked together on that one project. My friend who just happens to be a lesbian has the cutest picture of her girlfreind on her phone screen. 

I will memorize their favorite orders, what makes them tick, what makes them such a great companion, their talents, capabilities more than I will remember their gender. And that’s the characetr song in question is called “Jibunrashiku” or in English “just like me.” Because in the end a strict society which creates all these maxims of what exactly people of a certain gender should act would of course birth songs like “Just like me” A society which puts so much emphasis on gender and sex  as an identity instead of other things like personality, preferences, skills etc. 

And I don’t know if it applies to everyone. But my friends appreciate it because this journey to whatever gender identity they chose wasn’t rooted in some sort of strict framework on how they should be treated according to twitter. It was rooted in their own experiences and how these experiences made them feel. 

Do they feel weird in a woman’s body? Do they just don’t feel any romantic attraction to the opposite gender?

Just treat them as how you would treat anyone else you respect. Just be a decent person. Just be a good friend.

Respect their requests for their own personal pronouns. If they need help, help them to the best of your abilities. 

And here’s the thing, the approach I use with navigating identities, sexuaities genders are rooted in one very simple concept which can be applied to the race discourse, the feminist discourse etc etc. 

Don’t be an ass. Respect people. Don’t reduce people to one facet of their identity. And by extension, when faced with such a dubious situation, think, discern for yourself what’s right or wrong. When there are people educating you, policing you on what is right or wrong, process that information objectively.  

All I have here right now is my own opinions on the gender discourse on Hange and my own opinions on the discourse overall. 

If you don’t agree with it, then have a nice day and I hope you find something else that will convince you to be more openminded but...

UTANG NA LOOB HUWAG LANG KAYO MAMBULLY NG TAO POTA. MAGHANAP NALANG KAYO NG IBANG PWEDENG GAWIN SA BUHAY MO. 

ANG DAMING NASASAKTAN ANG DAMING NATRATRAUMA ANG DAMING NAWAWALANG GANA MAGSULAT KASI DI KAYO NAG-IISIP. PURO TIRA LANG. 

Okay thank you for listening. Do what you want with the information up there but I have said my piece.

[alyss-spazz-penedo]

@w1lmutt So tbh I probably could’ve had this ninth part of the unedited v!Wind fic out earlier; I already had it mostly written. But on the flip side, I’m sure you’ll be happy know that the whole story's going to be a bit longer than previously expected!

I only took my eyes off them for like a DAY, where did all these new plunnies come from aiieeee 

I don’t want to promise the next part will also be out soon bc that feels too much like jinxing it, but, um. *side-eyes the pages and pages of Stuff I've already scribbled for the next few parts*

TW: The ending scene made me cackle evily when I first thought of it. That's it that's the warning

<<First Part 8 Next>>

Twilight climbs the ladder to the lookout post the newest Link first greeted the traveling heroes from. The kid’s perched there now, kicking his heels in the open air, head resting on arms folded against the railing—just like the first time they’d met.

Such a difference a single day makes.

“Food’s ready,” he announces himself, though there’s no way Phantom hadn’t heard him making his way up. The boy doesn’t respond. Twilight musters up his patience, makes an effort to keep his voice even and nonconfrontational. “Wild made enough stew for everyone. He’s a pretty darn good cook; you’re missing out.”

Phantom doesn’t move. “Don’t need it.”

Twilight frowns. He climbs all the way into the lookout and approaches the slumped form, stopping just outside of striking distance. “You haven’t had anything all day. You need to eat, kid,” he coaxes.

“Fuck off. Don’t patronize me.” There’s no bite to the words. Twilight folds his arms, trying to project sternness. Phantom lackadaisically flips him off without even looking his way.

Twilight sighs. “...Enjoying the view?” He prods instead, changing tack.

“...A little. I’m mostly listening. I’d... forgotten what it sounded like.” A stilted pause. Phantom sighs, so quiet it’s nearly lost on the breeze. “The village, I mean. While it was awake.” 

Twilight, who hadn’t meant to provoke such honesty with his offhand comment, finds himself momentarily derailed. Phantom seems to take his silence as an invitation to continue—or perhaps he’s not talking to the other man at all, anymore.

“Aryll hugged me back today,” he says, blank. “And. Everyone’s awake. I... don’t need to sweep the porches, or trim the grass, or make sure the water in the rainbarrels is still fresh. I...”

One of the seagulls hops closer. Link holds out a hand to it automatically, but it flaps away. He stares down at his empty hand for a long moment before he seems to realize there’s no bait in it.

“It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s not anything new—I should be able to do this, greet my friends and talk to my sister and help out where I’m needed. I used to. I know I used to.”

The silence stretches.

Twilight finally sighs, breaking through the tension that had settled gauzy and ill-defined over them. “I came up here for a reason. I need to talk to you.”

Phantom finally deigns to look at him, giving the other a droll look from the corner of his eye. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be here alone otherwise; you guys have been paired off all day.”

Smartass. Twilight hisses a breath through his teeth. “Look, it’s about Time.”

Phantom tenses.

“You’ve been hurting him. You’re going to stop doing that,” he informs the kid.

Phantom’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not going to attack you guys again. And I apologized for the-”

“I’m not,” Twilight grits out, “talking about a physical wound.”

The boy doesn’t understand. How can the boy not understand? Twilight wants to pick him up and shake him.

“As far as I can tell, your only impressions of him come from legends that reverie him, and memories that hate him. He’s not whoever it is you’ve built up in your head, Phantom. Try opening your damn eyes for a change.”

Twilight stares the younger boy down. He needs the kid to understand: he is deadly serious about this.

The little hero is wide-eyed with confusion, uncertainty grinding away his usual guard. Phantom visibly chews over his words, slow, like they might make sense the third time where they didn’t the first. Skepticism paints his face. He still doesn’t get it. 

But he nods. Agreement, however reluctant. Twilight will take it.

"Now come on," Twilight huffs. He stalks away. "Wild's made food; the least you could do is not let it go to waste."

~o0o~

Phantom picks at his dinner. Like he'd told the Hero of Twilight, he doesn't need it—hasn't bothered with food for a long time, frankly—but refusing to eat after it'd already been doled out to him would be terribly rude. He's not so far gone that he's forgotten all his manners.

He and Aryll sit back-to-back in a ring of people, surrounding the roaring beach fire one of the visitors had made to cook with. It's still odd, feeling something moving and breathing so close to him, but... it’s not so bad when no one’s trying to grab him. He’s fine as long as nothing's moving too quickly in his personal space.

Pressed against his sister now, he remembers the times he'd hug the statues or lean on them for comfort. He throws a few token comments into the soft evening conversation, just to hear those real, actual voices respond to him, and this alone is leagues better than relying on his memory and imagination to fill the silence.

Listening to Aryll’s excited chatter, to the gentle shifting of over a dozen living bodies gathered on the same beach... he realizes how much he’d missed this.

It’s not perfect. But for the first time in a very long while, Phantom finds himself held in the grip of a feeling that could almost pass for peace.

~o0o~

They send Grandma out to sea that night.

Dusk is not the appropriate time for someone to set sail on a long journey. But for her last voyage... the darkness will see her safely to her destination. That’s what the villagers say, at least.

Phantom’s lost his share of people over the years. He hates that he should be used to goodbyes—hates hates hates that this time is different.

(It’s not even that she’s family; he was old enough to remember his parents, after all. No, the difference between Grandma and everyone else he's lost is that he is so much more directly responsible for her death.

He might've loved and missed some of those others comparably, but Grandma... Grandma is one of his mistakes.)

~o0o~

Tetra finally comes to him in the morning.

She’d been avoiding him, and he’d been letting her have her space—no matter how much he ached to have her back again. She had every right to be angry at him, after all.

(He’d failed her. In every way that mattered, he’d failed her.

All that strength and he still couldn’t keep her safe; all that resolve and he still couldn’t get her back before Bellum had dug it’s claws in deeper than he could pry out of her; all that time, and still no Hyrule to show for it. He couldn’t even avenge her, in the end; the traveling heroes had robbed him of that killing blow.)

So of course she’s angry. Of course she’s disappointed in him, of course she's been avoiding him, of course of course.

There is a time and place for regrets, Phantom knows. That time is not now; that place is not here. Not when he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Tetra—his best friend, his partner, his anchor—finally, finally awake.

And yet. And yet.

She stands next to him without a word. They watch the dawn like that—together, with neither able to bear looking at each other.

~o0o~

The sun is fully up by the time her idiot speaks.

He fingers the mark on the back of his hand in lieu of looking her in the eye. “Do you think the power of the gods could bring her back?” He asks. He doesn’t look at her as he says this, gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Not forever. Just... just for a little longer.”

She feels cold. “I thought we’d agreed never to make a wish.”

“...Yeah.”

Tetra scowls. “How seriously are you asking? Is this the grief or the insanity talking right now?”

“I... I don’t know.” His eyes belie this—calculating, intent. He’s looking out at the ocean, but she can’t tell what it is he's actually seeing.

“I heard the story from those other heroes. How long?” She grabs him by the arm, yanks him around until he’s forced to look at her. “How long has it been?” She demands.

Link rips himself away from her touch. “I don’t know,” he lies.

She punches him on the arm for that. He winces but she can tell it’s entirely for her benefit; he’s not hurt at all. Her blows don’t reach him anymore.

She probably hasn’t reached him for a long time, now.

“Give it to me,” she demands—suddenly, inexplicably furious. He regards her warily. She barely recognizes him anymore. “This has gone on for long enough. I never should’ve let you try to carry this power alone. Give me the Triforce, Link.”

Link’s eyes narrow. For a moment, Tetra is convinced he’s going to refuse—that she’s going to have to enlist her crew and maybe those outside heroes to hold the idiot down so she can pry the corruption from his hand. 

But no. Link deflates and, for once in his life, makes things easy for her. “Okay,” he agrees, all wilted and sad and nothing like the spunky kid who once demanded a ride to the Forsaken Fortress from her on this very shore.

She lets him twine their hands together, goddess marked to goddess marked. The symbols glow together, synchronized in a way their bearers used to be, and when they open their eyes Tetra has an extra golden triangle on her hand.

The Triforce of Power is a trip. Link’s eyes are blue again, and they widen in alarm when she pins his wrist, when she seizes him by the collar and drags him around like it’s nothing. “That’s not enough,” she growls. “I said, give me the Triforce. All of it, Link.”

“Tetra- what are you-”

“Give it to me!” She shakes him a little. “Now!”

“No! Have you lost your mind-”

She backhands him. It's the easiest thing in the world.

He goes staggering, one hand flying to his cheek and the other reflexively dragging that terribly familiar sword from thin air. He freezes before he can raise it against her. "Tetra...?"

"Fine." She cracks her knuckles. "The hard way, then."

"What are you doing?"

He looks frightened. Of her. Is this what they've come to, now? Tetra could almost laugh, could almost cry. She draws her blade instead of doing either.

"Making sure something like this never happens again," she vows, eyes burning gold, and strikes without holding back.