#never reveal any vulnerability you have unless it's absolutely necessary

[bananonbinary]

as a certified Diagnosed Autist(TM) i cannot stress enough that i am not only pro- self-diagnosis, but also pretty anti- legal medical diagnosis. it is, at best, a cruel hoop we have to jump through so privileged people will deign to give us what we need. don't fucking do that shit unless you have to, it was disgustingly expensive, fucking humiliating, infantilizing, and dehumanizing, and would probably actively cause problems in my life if i didn't have some really good allistic (-passing) people in my corner and also wasn't so fucking disabled that it mostly doesn't matter.

literally get that diagnosis if you need it for job/school accessibility shit or SSI or whatever, and otherwise dont tell the government SHIT about yourself. there is zero good reason for them to want that information. that's between you and the people you want in your life.

[daddyissuesyo]

Monsta X Yandere Headcanons

tw: implied sexual content, non-sexual consent violation, murder, suicide, emotional and physical abuse, harm/endangerment, severed ties with family, vulgarity

seriously guys this is intense

Shownu: The Protector

- you pique his attention and he asks you out, seemingly normal

- becomes obsessed after the first date and captures you on the second

- avoids physical harm unless absolutely "necessary" to keep you in line. manipulates you until feeling as though you failed him.

- reckless, unconditional love

- you can't help but reciprocate a little; he's just so caring & attentive

- vanilla sex, because he loves you

- funds EVERYTHING you could possibly want: fluffy comforters and a massive mattress, personal maids, deluxe coffee maker, stuffed animals that he doesn't let you name, etc.

- you thought your dynamic was normal until you caught him dragging the limp body of the postman that accidentally saw you changing into a shed

- from that day forth you feared him, yet didn't stop loving him

- "you are my entire world. my everything. we need each other. forever and then some."

- will not kill you unless he convinces himself others will and death by his hands is the better option

Minhyuk: The Deluded

- i n f a n t i l i z e r

- pities you, oh so much

- thinks you are a helpless baby in dire need of rescuing

- treats you like a porcelain doll & refuses to let you make even the smallest decision for yourself

- convinced you are just as infatuated and dependent on him as he is you

- on good days, he will draw bubble baths, play card games with you, and play G rated movies, pausing every minute to explain what happened

- on bad days, he will yell at you, bind your limbs, and carve his name into your flesh

- simply doesn't understand your disobedience and grief and takes it out on you, hoping to "knock sense into you"

- unlike many yandere archetypes, he enjoys parading you about like an accessory. has friends come over to admire you

- "i know it's too much for you to understand, but you need my care. where is this behavior coming from? don't you love me?"

- you'll kill yourself before he can, driven to the point of insanity

Kihyun: The Jealous

- no pets. no friends. no contact with the outside world aside from media he approves.

- shelters you like mother gothel

- insists you cut off all male contacts, even family (if you are lgbtq, it's best not to reveal this to him because then you won't even be able to speak to female family members)

- doesn't hesitate to murder any man you won't cut off. forces you to watch.

- comforts you afterward in a sick way

- you have to PLEAD to go anywhere

- if he allows it, you must wear a face covering and stay by his side

- tends to be rough in bed; he lets loose all his pent-up frustrations on you

- isn't COMPLETELY out of touch with his humanity; treats you well on birthdays and holidays and even permits a supervised phone call with your mother

- "you overwhelm me. you fill me with so much joy and so much rage. you'll never know the effect you have on me, sweetheart."

- inevitable murder-suicide in the end. i give it no more than 5 years.

Hyungwon: The Sadist

- it's all a game of cat and mouse to him; he kidnapped you while you slept after stalking for quite some time

- keeps you in chains in his basement

- decorates his home with your missing posters like a real sicko

- will torture the living shit out of you with no remorse. inflicting fractures, head trauma, slicing you open, digit dismemberment, drowning, strappado

- gets off on your fear more than your pain

- unlike the others, he recognizes when you're suffering; he just doesn't care

- destroys your self-worth and self-esteem by berating and insulting you. it's your fault you can't tell he means "I love you"

- sex entails bondage, degradation, and cruel laughter. incorporates pet names like: "bunny," "little lamb," "kitty," etc.

- may get bored of you and seek out a new victim, leaving you inexplicably desperate for his attention (which is all part of his game)

- always comes back to you after he's maimed and fucked who knows how many people. and you let him every time, holding out hope that he'll stay

- "you're never going to escape me. i hope you know that."

- would rather almost kill you and keep reviving you. you're in it for the long haul.

Jooheon: The Two-faced

- like shownu, things begin typically

- gradually shows his hand over time, but you're blinded by your feelings for him (he's a very good faux boyfriend)

- waits until your most vulnerable moment to attack

- strict and often overbearing; will beat you black and blue to the point of unconsciousness

- will actually apologize, but he doesn't stop

- tries to keep things around that you enjoy and allow domestic hobbies (congratulates your accomplishments but doesn't want to fuel your ego too much because then you'll leave him)

- struggles with internal conflict over how to treat you. wishes he could be more lenient but can't bring himself to

- allows you to have family and friends over while he's present

- very good at acting normal, it's scary. will flash you a psycho smile after they leave.

- "i'm sorry things have to be this way. if only you could see... i really do love you."

- kills himself in the end due to guilt

Changkyun: The Unhinged

- yes, yandere are psychotic, but changkyun is another level

- if you try to escape or resist him, he just stares at you with round eyes, slowly growing a grin that turns into a crazy laughing fit

- protects you from outside forces, unaware that he's the greatest danger in your life

- only upside is he takes you out on the town

- slaps across the face. sometimes at random, just to let you know he's in control

- you live on eggshells, unsure if he's in a loving or violent mood

- a strange dichotomy of worshipping you and craving your attention, yet feeling like you should be the one begging for him

- fucks hard and often, but can't look at you after

- owns an industrial freezer and locks you in there until you collapse from hypothermia III

- "w-were you trying to escape? FUCK no. what don't you understand, hon? you're my fucking property."

- will stab you repeatedly in the end, smiling with tears streaming down his face

Would anyone be interested in me developing these characters/storylines further?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Thank you "Worthwhile Trade". The idea of Baxia turning into an guai is so interesting. I liked imagining the part where she hit NMJ for his idiocy. My brain is projecting "married couple" vibes, omg. I admit despite how weird WWX spoke about the events, the time travel part flew over my head until the tags spelled it out for me. (TBC)

(Cont'd) Also... did NMJ mean it in THAT dual-thing way when talking WRH's prefs? And the last part, where WWX used resentful energy to sub NMJ's qi. I assume he can still cultivate since his core's still there, if emptied? But I wonder what'll happen to his energy once restored Can't help but think his renewed qi will inevitably be affected by the traces of the previous energy that once circulated. He's not going to become a walking stygian tiger or something, is he? Off the wall guess, sorry!

----

sequel to Worthwhile Trade (ao3), also on tumblr

Wei Wuxian didn’t understand Nie Mingjue.

He didn’t understand the way he thought, the way he acted – the way he smiled when he woke up, the way he opened his arms when Nie Huaisang threw himself into them with a wail and said, “It was worth it for you, didi; it always is if it’s for you. Don’t you know that?” the way Wei Wuxian had always shamefully thought of saying, as if something like that could just be said like that, out in the open.

The way Nie Mingjue shrugged when the doctors said his cultivation would likely never recover, that he should have died, that they didn’t understand why he hadn’t; the way he said, seeming even satisfied, that it was a worthwhile trade.

It’s not a trade, Wei Wuxian wanted to scream at him. It’s a sacrifice! It hurts and you’re sad, no, worse, you’re resentful about it and you shouldn’t be because it was your choice, your decision, but you see someone else with everything that you worked so hard for and you’re angry when you shouldn’t be angry and you feel bad and you turn away; it hurts them when you do and you’re glad, you miserable thing, you’re happy that they’re hurt because why should you be the only one whose hurt –

Perhaps the problem wasn’t that he didn’t understand Nie Mingjue.

Perhaps it was only that he saw in Nie Mingjue his own faults, his own deficiencies, the ones he’d tried so hard to hide in the sea of his poor memory.

“You’ll die if you don’t find a way to cultivate,” he said instead, hovering by the door. He’d say that he didn’t mean to ruin the mood, but he kind of did, and Baxia’s eyes on him were cold as if she knew.

As if she knew everything.

How he’d gone back to the past, how he’d changed things, how it was his fault that Nie Mingjue – who’d never done a single thing to hurt him, who’d been upright and righteous and good and whose brother loved him enough to –

Wei Wuxian had made a point of avoiding Baxia.

Not that she was that easy to avoid. She was tall for a woman – not as tall as Nie Mingjue, but proportionate to him in the sense that she was as much taller than the average woman as he was taller than the average man – and she walked as though people should flee before her, a tread that only felt heavy because of the almost visceral rage that surrounded her like a cloud.

Nie Huaisang had found robes for her, somehow, and they were the least feminine robes Wei Wuxian had ever seen a woman wear, though he supposed he still hadn’t seen that given that Baxia wasn’t exactly a woman.  Cut in a martial style, a dark shimmering grey that seemed in some lights to be almost red – she had been born as a human in a mantle of blood and she would not let anyone forget it.

“I should have died already,” Nie Mingjue said, as if the world’s scariest guai didn’t have her hand on his shoulder right next to his vulnerable neck. “You came up with a solution, Wei-gongzi, and for that I thank you. Even if we are not able to solve the next stage, being able to see my loved ones is worthwhile.”

Wei Wuxian could learn to hate that word.

“I have a solution, of a sort,” he said, irritated and not entirely because his reveal had been preempted. He’d hoped to sort of ease into it, somehow. “You lack the capacity for regular cultivation, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use demonic cultivation.”

“What? No, we can’t do that,” Nie Huaisang said, biting his fingers anxiously. “Anyway, doesn’t demonic cultivation harm the temperament?”

“You mean my temperament can get worse?” Nie Mingjue teased, and Nie Huaisang smacked him so lightly that it didn’t even displace his clothing. “I don’t know any means of demonic cultivation, Wei-gongzi –”

“Call me Wei Wuxian,” Wei Wuxian said. “Please.”

“Wei Wuxian, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “All the methods I’ve ever heard of were forbidden for very good reasons – but perhaps those conditions are not the same in the method you know.”

Wei Wuxian tensed. “How do you know that I know one?”

“You saved me, didn’t you?” Nie Mingjue said practically, and well, yes, Wei Wuxian supposed he had a point – “And anyway, Baxia can tell.”

Wei Wuxian shivered. “I don’t use it,” he argued. “How can she tell?”

At Nie Huaisang’s instigation, Baxia had recently started experimenting with smiles. She put one on her face now.

It was terrifying.

“Tell me about it,” Nie Mingjue requested. “The powers and the price, all of it.”

“You’re actually considering this?” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “But da-ge…!”

“Wei Wuxian was not wrong when he said that I would die if I didn’t find a way to cultivate despite having given up what I have,” Nie Mingjue said. “If I die, what will you do?”

Oh, not much, just become a mastermind capable of puppeting the entire cultivation world to enact revenge for your death. Nothing big.

“But – da-ge has always put such a priority on remaining on the righteous path…”

“That’s why I asked about the costs,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “I will not abandon righteousness simply because I adopt a new method of cultivating.”

“Everyone will revile you even if you are righteous,” Wei Wuxian warned him.

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Who is everyone? What do I care for them? You do the right thing because it is right, not for the sake of fame.”

Wei Wuxian had once thought the same.

“If everyone in the cultivation world thinks you are evil, they will paint you as evil no matter what you do,” he insisted. “No matter how righteous your motives –”

“Let them think he’s evil, then!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “He could be the most black-hearted cultivator in the land, but he’s still my da-ge; my Nie sect and I will protect him!”

“Huaisang! No! That is not how righteousness works – if I ever truly become evil, you are to cut me off at once, kill me if necessary –”

“No way!”

“Huaisang – Baxia, tell him; evil cannot be endured –”

Baxia was looking at her fingernails. She’d picked that gesture up from Sect Leader Ouyang, when he was trying to be pointed about ignoring someone; it was extremely irritating to absolutely everyone who wanted to know who she was and what she was doing here and Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian had teamed up to convince her to keep doing it.

Possibly a mistake, in retrospect.

“Baxia. I know you agree with me on this. Evil is evil, and must be eradicated no matter who it may be.”

She gave him an unimpressed look.

“I know I’m not evil yet,” Nie Mingjue argued, apparently understanding her without any difficulty whatsoever. He’d just woken up from a month-long coma and he could already speak fluent human-saber, it was really unfair. And this man had succumbed to Jin Guangyao’s wiles? Lan Xichen had more to answer for than he knew. “But if I ever become evil – what? No, we will not burn that bridge when we come to it, that’s not even the right idiom, who is teaching you these things –”

Nie Huaisang coughed and hid his face behind a fan.

Wei Wuxian was not going to laugh.

Nie Mingjue growled at them all and turned back to Wei Wuxian. “Explain,” he demanded. “The rest of you, out.”

“But –”

“Out. One of us has to cultivate the righteous path, and if it can’t be me, it has to be you. Baxia?”

She picked Nie Huaisang up by his collar, for all the world like a mother dog picking up her pup by the scruff of its neck, and walked out.

Nie Mingjue picked up demonic cultivation faster than anyone else Wei Wuxian had ever met or even heard of. He wasn’t sure if that demonstrated an unnerving aptitude or if it was simply that Nie Mingjue was surpassingly talented – Wei Wuxian had never met anyone like himself before, someone for whom all things came easy, and it was an unexpected delight to meet a kindred soul somewhere where he’d long ago given up hope. He’d never planned to unveil demonic cultivation in this life unless he truly needed it – he didn’t want to hurt his Lan Zhan the way he had in his first life, and anyway Jiang Cheng and Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu were all alive, with hundreds of Jiang sect members to boot, there was no need for his sacrifice – but the part of him that was more researcher and inventor than cultivator luxuriated in their discussions.

Nie Mingjue was a lot more concerned than Wei Wuxian had ever been with consequences, and how to mitigate them, but he supposed that made sense: losing his cultivation hadn’t impacted that Nie temper one bit, and demonic cultivation was likely to make things worse. Moreover, Nie Mingjue was simply who he was, stiff and unbending, as much steel in his spine as in Baxia’s; he could almost be described as being rigid in his thinking except for the fact that he was in fact seriously considering becoming a demonic cultivator.

“We’re saber cultivators,” Nie Mingjue said when Wei Wuxian tentatively brought it up. “Like a saber, our nature is to be firm and unyielding, not flexible like the sword, but we cannot allow ourselves to become too rigid – a too-rigid saber will break upon encountering an obstacle. It’s a difficult balance to keep, and one made more difficult by our cultivation style.”

“The demonic cultivation aspects, you mean? Using yao to refine your saber spirit?”

“One day, though not today, I’m going to ask you how you know about that,” Nie Mingjue remarked, and although his tone was causal Wei Wuxian’s back went cold. “And I’ll expect you to tell me the truth when I do. But not today. Anyway, yes, that’s what I mean. Do you know what they mean when they say that demonic cultivation harms the temperament?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated. “I assume you’re going to tell me something other than ‘it drives you crazy and makes you kill people’?”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “Sometimes I wonder how someone as smart as you got sent home before you finished your lessons at the Cloud Recesses, but other times it’s fairly obvious.”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, embarrassed.

“Do you really not know?”

“No one taught this to me,” Wei Wuxian said, stung. “I came up with it on my own. How would I know?”

“All demonic cultivation has the same root,” Nie Mingjue said. “Obsession.”

“With killing, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it a million times –”

“Shut up and listen, you impertinent brat. The killing comes later. It starts with obsession. Obsession with righteousness, obsession with love, obsession with the pleasures of this world, with power – a human becomes a demon when they cannot overcome the obsessions within their heart, and the obsession consumes them. In time, a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with power will do whatever it takes to obtain that power, and not mind the blood shed to do it; a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with love will kill everyone who they perceive stands between them and their love, a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with righteousness will turn to murder when in their judgment something that ought to be condemned goes unpunished…”

“What about one who only wants what’s best for his family?” Wei Wuxian said, and he did not know if the challenge in his voice was about Nie Mingjue’s future or his own past.

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Two roads that I can see: first, their family turns away from them for what they have become and they become vicious with the abandonment, becoming quick to lash out against the world and eventually doing something that causes the world to turn against them.  Second, their family stands by them, and eventually the world causes some harm to them – and the demonic cultivator turns to madness in revenge.”

“Not exactly an optimistic outlook.”

“Not especially, no.”

“You don’t seem as concerned by that as I would have thought.”

Nie Mingjue’s lips twitched. “I have a solution.”

“Would you like to share?”

“Using resentful energy to cultivate our sabers makes them prone to obsession, driving them ceaselessly to fight evil, destroy it, without discrimination. It makes them stronger, but also more dangerous – and that is why they must be carefully controlled.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “So, what? You’re going to be the saber now? Under whose control?”

“Huaisang’s, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, as if it were obvious. “For better or for worse, he is sect leader now. Who else would it be?”

“But – what if you disagree? What if he wants to do things one way, and you another –”

“Then I argue and probably yell a lot, and if in the end he still insists on doing things his way, I listen,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “That’s how hierarchy works. Isn’t it the same for you? When your shidi, Jiang Cheng, becomes sect leader, you’ll need to listen to him – or leave the sect. There’s no middle ground.”

Wei Wuxian scowled.

“A sect leader that can’t control his disciples is worse than a demonic cultivator,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s weak. A target, ripe to be ripped apart and devoured by other sects – resources raided, disciples poached, responsibilities taken away...It’s not a fate I would wish on anyone. If you can’t commit to obeying, commit to leaving so that you don’t end up promising more than you can give.”

Ouch.

Just – ouch.

Great advice, fantastic advice, world-class advice, and totally useless because Jiang Cheng had travelled back in time with him and was therefore convinced that Wei Wuxian was just looking for the first way out of the Jiang sect he could find, no matter what Wei Wuxian said or did about it.

(Even Madame Yu was concerned by the new coldness in their relationship and had tried to talk to him about it, which – Wei Wuxian didn’t know what to do with that. It didn’t match any of what he had thought he’d understood.)

He decided to focus back in on the demonic cultivation lessons, shifting from theoretical discussions to the practical, and that, unfortunately, was when they encountered an issue.

“What do you mean you can’t play an instrument?” Wei Wuxian demanded, appalled. “It’s one of the Six Arts! Everyone can play some sort of instrument – even Nie Huaisang plays an instrument!”

“Everyone agreed it was better that I stop learning,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. “It’s all just plucking on strings or blowing air in pipes, and yet no matter that I did exactly what the teacher said to do, it never worked, that’s all.”

“Didn’t Zewu-jun offer to teach you…?”

“He did. And then he said it would be better if we stopped, too.”

The reason, Wei Wuxian soon learned, was that Nie Mingjue was almost completely tone deaf, and the only reason it was almost was that he was still capable of differentiating speech.

“I agree with the majority,” he said after an extremely frustrating day. “Stop. Never pick up an instrument ever again. And don’t let anyone but Zewu-jun play something especially for you, either, okay? Even if they’re highly recommended.”

“An interesting request,” Nie Mingjue said, eyebrows arched skeptically. “May I ask why?”

“Because you’ll have no idea if they’ve changed the music on you,” Wei Wuxian said bluntly. A great deal about the man’s murder in a different life made sense now, and Jin Guangyao’s brilliance in hiding the score of Turmoil inside of Clarity was a little less impressive when played to a man who thought all music, without exception, was just plucking strings or blowing air. “Musical cultivation is deadly in the right hands, especially if you lower your defenses against it. Just consider it a precaution.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows remained arched, but he hummed in agreement.

“I guess we’ll have to think of a new way for you to cultivate demonic cultivation,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his face. He had not been planning on having to invent demonic cultivation at all in this life, and now he needed to not only ‘invent’ the original but actually come up with something new. Why was his life so hard? “How did you previously manipulate external energy?”

“With Baxia.”

“Well, that’s not helpful, is it? You can’t wield a human being. Perhaps another saber…?”

That didn’t work, primarily because it turned out that Baxia had strong feelings about Nie Mingjue even thinking about using another saber and well, as far as Wei Wuxian was concerned, whatever Baxia wanted, Baxia got.

(Nie Huaisang had had to go to Heijan once, with Wei Wuxian and Baxia accompanying him since Nie Mingjue wasn’t ready yet, and some unlucky Wen captain had tried to ambush them. That captain, and his squad, were not granted the courtesy of an intact corpse, and Baxia hadn’t even gotten a speck of blood on her nice new robes – no, Wei Wuxian would not be crossing Baxia any time soon.)

“There’s got to be something,” Wei Wuxian said, and Nie Mingjue agreed, and in the end they found something.

Nie Mingjue had been absent-mindedly playing around with one of Nie Huaisang’s fans when one of the fierce corpses Wei Wuxian had raised as practice targets had gotten loose; instinct had taken over and Nie Mingjue had lashed out with the weapon at hand as if it were a saber, and the resentful energy had surged in response –

Baxia was apparently not threatened by the notion of her master using a fan as a weapon, not even one inlaid with steel and heavy cloth with enough layers to catch a sword in.

(If Wei Wuxian needed to go have some time to himself at the sight of Nie Huaisang, dressed as a sect leader with his saber always at his side, standing next to Nie Mingjue holding a fan – well, that was his problem, and also one he intended to show to Jiang Cheng at the next possible opportunity. Someone else deserved to have their mind wrecked by the incongruity as much as he had.)

Even without the weirdness of Nie Mingjue, it was more than a little odd to see Nie Huaisang in the robes of a sect leader without him acting like the Head-shaker. The shock of having to become sect leader had fallen heavily on him: he had become a little more serious, a little more earnest (though still a bit frivolous); he was more inclined to listen and think things over, less inclined to run away.

“If da-ge is going to become a demonic cultivator, someone needs to stand behind him,” Nie Huaisang said simply when Wei Wuxian had tried probing. “He’s always held the world up for me – it’s the least I can do for him. I may not be able to do much, I might be terrible at it, but I owe it to him to at least try.”

Wei Wuxian wondered, sometimes, if Jiang Cheng would have stood up for him if only he had trusted in him, believed in him, the way Nie Mingjue believed in his notoriously useless little brother.

Maybe he’d ask, when he went back to the Jiang sect.

Maybe he’d –

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Jiang Cheng said as a greeting, and for once Uncle Jiang didn’t disagree. “All those letters and you never once mentioned the terrors?”

“The what,” Wei Wuxian said, and that was how he learned that while he was on his way back to Yunmeng neither Baxia nor Nie Mingjue had wasted any time utilizing their newfound skills out on the battlefield.

Nie Huaisang was never going to be a particularly respected sect leader, especially by those that had met him beforehand, but evidently that wasn’t really important given that he was constantly flanked by what was being called the two terrors of Qinghe.

Nie Mingjue preferred darker colors now that he was no longer sect leader, the same dark grey shading towards black that Baxia had selected for herself, and the selection somehow made him seem even taller, verging on inhuman, and Baxia standing beside him, her human features patterned roughly after his, made the two of them appear a matched set. Nie Mingjue wielded the fan that Wei Wuxian had helped him design, which he had forged with his own hands out of the metal from the Xuanwu’s cave that Wei Wuxian had foolishly figured someone ought to get some use out of, painted over with a cinnabar array in Nie Huaisang’s careful brushstrokes, and in his hands it was both weapon and conduit for the raising of armies of corpses. Baxia, for her part, held nothing but required nothing, a sweeping gesture of her hand more devastating than a dozen blows with the saber.

They were terrifying, a nightmare writ large and unmistakably dangerous, undeniably demonic cultivators in a way that was entirely different from Wei Wuxian’s own dramatics, and it unnerved the rest of the cultivation world the way Wei Wuxian had feared it would.

“It won’t be a problem,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “The Nie sect are ascending in strength, and this only adds to their mystique – who would challenge them?”

“Uh, Jin Guangshan,” Wei Wuxian said. “Like last time?”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “At this rate, I don’t even think Jin Guangyao will bother defecting to the Jin sect,” he said. “Not if he knows how to play his cards right. The Nie sect’s strength in the original version was never about Chifeng-zun’s skill with the blade alone. It was the whole sect’s strength, with Chifeng-zun’s ability to wield them as skillfully as he did his saber; he’s an outstanding general. And now they have him as a general, him as a demonic cultivator, and whatever the fuck is going on with Lady Baxia –”

“I already told you. She’s a guai.”

“Like I already told you, it doesn’t matter how many times you say that, I will immediately expel the knowledge from my mind and you should too. ‘Immortal cultivator cousin that my brother named his saber after’, like what Nie Huaisang has been putting about, is a perfectly acceptable cover story.”

“And the fact that his saber disappeared at the same time?”

“Coincidence,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. “And we’re sticking with that. Anyway, the point is that if you’re an ambitious man, the Nie sect is the place to be right now and probably will continue to be in the future. This is going to be evident to both Jin Guangshan and the future Jin Guangyao, and we’ll need to deal with that.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Wei Wuxian promised. “After rescuing Chifeng-zun and helping with the demonic cultivation, I’ve gotten pretty close to them.”

“Mm. And how about your other mission?”

Wei Wuxian scowled at the smirk on Jiang Cheng’s face. “You know perfectly well that I haven’t had any time to seduce Lan Wangji, what with how busy I’ve been. I don’t even know for sure if he likes me yet -!”

“You’re an idiot, he does, and you’re not allowed to keep us all in suspense for two decades this time. Figure it out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m sticking you with the job of being an information courier and you leave for the Lan sect front line tomorrow.”

“You are the best shidi ever,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it.

Jiang Cheng huffed. “Yeah, well,” he said as if his cheeks weren’t red. “Remember that in the future. In this life we’re the Twin Heroes, you hear me? No take-backs.”

Nie Mingjue was right: Wei Wuxian would need to either learn to obey or tell Jiang Cheng early on that he was leaving, and walking a path in the middle would only cause heartbreak all over again.

“Okay,” he said, deciding to ask Lan Wangji for advice on obedience. Surely that was something that could be learned? “Deal. You do know that that means Lan Wangji’s going to have to marry in, right?”

“Oh no,” Jiang Cheng said, voice entirely flat. “How terrible. I’ll find a way to manage dealing with that ice block somehow…listen, I don’t care if you end up calling him Wei Sizhui in this life, but don’t ruin his character. He was perfectly nice.”

“I don’t know if he’s even been born yet,” Wei Wuxian said glumly. “I’ve been looking, but…”

“I’ve asked some of Mother’s spies to keep track of Wen Ning and Wen Qing,” Jiang Cheng said. “Collecting evidence we’ll need for their inevitable post-war trial, assuming we want them to live better lives than just refugees. Give it time, we’ll find him.”

“Now I just need to see if Lan Wangji will want to raise children with me…”

“Wei Wuxian. I don’t care. Go.”

[adarlingsnightmare]

Chuuya Nakahara Yandere Alphabet

Anonymous said:

Sounds good! How about the alphabet for chuuya? :3c 

accidentally posted this to my main blog after writing a huge apology for my lack of posting :/ i keep doing that unfortunately. anyways, ive had a full week exams which is why i havent been posting. im extremely tired and stressed but i will try to get more requests done this week, though i have another week of exams. i do apologise, but itll be over soon. i hope you enjoy anon, this short bastard is one of my favs. <3

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Chuuya would gladly smother you in endless kisses and cuddles, but if you tell him to back off, he'll stick to just having an arm around you (because god forbid he isn't touching you in one way or another). You'll often hear him whispering how much he absolutely adores you when he thinks you're asleep, and when you're visibly awake he'll be showering you in compliments.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Oh, Chuuya will undoubtedly do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that results in bloody murder. He's in the mafia after all, what's a little blood on his hands, especially in the name of love?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Chuuya would only mock you if you consistently failed to escape or were getting punished by him. Otherwise, he is generally loving and as romantic as possible. He will always make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, snapping at you if you refuse to eat as he gets awfully worried about you sometimes.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

No, not really. The only instances where something's against his darlings will is when he's punishing them. Other than that, it's mainly abduction and the lack of freedom to talk to people.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Chuuya confides in his darling, and will show a side of himself that no one else ever sees. He'll ask for advice on work matters and will constantly seek love and reassurance from his darling. While outwardly he may still appear tough and cocky, he's really soft for you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would be pretty irritated and though he'd never admit it, quite hurt. Why can't you just love him, goddamnit?! He'll try not to hurt you too much, but if you're not backing down he will use force to get you to stop.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Chuuya doesn't enjoy it in the slightest. His love for you isn't some 'game' and seeing you try to escape both infuriates and saddens him. All he truly wants is to be a happy, normal couple so your refusal to love him is not something he enjoys.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Chuuya isn't always fully aware of how strong he actually is, especially when he uses Corruption and becomes out of control. This can lead to a terrifying situation where you're worried for your life as a monster in your boyfriend's body goes on a rampage and destroys everything around him. It rarely happens, as Chuuya really doesn't want to hurt you, but when it does it's a living nightmare.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Honestly, Chuuya doesn't really know what kind of future he wants for him and his darling, but ideally you two would move to some beautiful island — somewhere in the Caribbean, maybe? — get married, possibly start a family and live out the rest of your days in bliss.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Luckily, Chuuya isn't insanely possessive and doesn't lash out just because you looked at someone else, but he is paranoid. He has to keep you away from other people because, what if they attempt to hurt you? The only instance where he would genuinely become jealous is if Dazai was involved. This is when you'll see his full yandere side come out and it will be extreme: locking you up in highly secure room, restraining you, putting tracking devices in everything you own, anything to ensure your safety. If you were to show an interest in Dazai, whether platonic or even worse, romantic, his paranoia and jealousy would spike up tenfold — essentially guaranteeing you'll never see the light of day again.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Chuuya is generally really loving and calm towards his darling, still messing with them and lovingly calling them an idiot, but always so soft when speaking. However, if you were to be a brat, his rougher, more 'mafia' side would make an appearance— any soft words of reassurance thrown out the window.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

The 'traditional' way: flirting with you, taking you out on fancy dates and gifting you jewellery and flowers. He may seem smooth but he usually has to ask people (Kouyou) or the internet for advice on how to win someone's affections. He's also very observant to what you're interested in, so if you mention preferring movies to fancy dinners, that's where your next date will be.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes, but in a good way. Instead of being his 'tough executive' persona, when he's around you, he'll reveal a much sweeter and softer side of himself. He's also surprisingly affectionate, taking every opportunity to be as close to you as possible.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Chuuya doesn't generally plan out punishment, he tends to go into a fit of rage and attack you with whatever is nearest. Usually it results in you being choked, slammed repeatedly against the floor or him almost breaking your ribs with his foot. Once he's calmed down is when he will decide on a proper punishment, such as keeping you restrained to the bed, taking away certain privileges or maybe if you've really done something bad... a more permanent solution will be used.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As long as his darling was relatively compliant, Chuuya's only real restriction would be the ability to go outside alone without the safety of his watchful eye. Of course, if you betrayed his trust, any hint of freedom you had previously would be stripped away.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Chuuya tries to be patient, he really does, but he's just so hotheaded that he often ends up snapping at his darling whenever they act up in the slightest.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

To put it simply: no. No one else can make Chuuya feel this way, and without his wonderful darling, he feels distanced from the world. It is likely he would continue working for the Port Mafia (unless they were involved in your escape/death), a mere shell of his former self only existing to serve the mafia rather than actually living.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Chuuya would feel a small amount of guilt if he had to kidnap you, but his belief that it's necessary for your protection would overrule the guilt. He would absolutely never let you go, you're like the anchor that keeps him human; he cannot lose you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Like Dazai, Chuuya feels almost inhuman, like he is a foreigner in someone else's body, yet when he brushed hands with you, he felt something real. This is what drives him to get to know you: the desperation to be human. The more he spends time with you, the more this feeling increases — leading him to be unable to just allow you to leave him. Ironically, he becomes less human the more time he devotes to you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Chuuya really doesn't like seeing you upset, and it hurts his heart having to punish you when you're so upset, but some things are just a necessary evil. If you've done something he considers to be really bad, he will be apathetic to your tears, believing you deserve whatever you're suffering.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Unlike a lot of yanderes, Chuuya does respect your boundaries to a degree, and won't force you to do anything you really protest against (aside from letting you go, of course).

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Chuuya has to leave for work nearly everyday, so if you're smart and able to break locks, you have a fairly good chance of escaping. However, even if you do escape, Chuuya will find you again, and he won't take the betrayal lightly.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Chuuya has a pretty short temper, especially when it comes to the safety of his darling, so if you persistently tried to escape or "put yourself in danger" (interacting with Dazai, refusing food), he may snap. As stated previously, he doesn't enjoy your pain, but sometimes it's necessary to get you to listen.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Despite his sometimes arrogant nature, Chuuya sees his darling as on an entirely separate level to himself. He practically worships you, though he doesn't always like to show it (he's got to keep up his tough guy persona after all) and would gladly do anything you asked. His loyalty to you is even able to override his loyalty to the Port Mafia.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Chuuya would make an effort to woo you, buying you flowers and taking you out on fancy dinners, hoping that you'll end up wanting to be in a relationship with him. He'll vehemently deny being so desperate to be with you, but it's pretty obvious he's hopelessly in love. If you were to continuously reject his advances, he may eventually end up kidnapping you, but only if he thought you were in danger (or that another person was making a move on you).

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If he did end up breaking you, it wouldn't be intentional. All Chuuya wants is your unconditional love and affection, but he can get desperate if you're not showing it and will make you say how much you love him, even if you have to be put through hell to achieve it.

[ephyla]

March of Dragons ‘21 : Fan content prompt: Flying Free

Flying Free

WARNING: Violence

So, this prompt gave me the idea of how Astrid met Axewing. He’s a dragon that appears in the Rise of Berk game. I find this dragon absolutely beautiful and who doesn’t like a dragon with wings that act like axes? That dragon suits Astrid perfectly, after Stormfly of course. 

I couldn’t help myself, I had to add a pinch of Hiccstrid at the end because I love them so much.

Enjoy!

oOo

Astrid was on night patrol duty tonight. It was supposed to be the twins’ turn but Tuffnut has gotten himself injured during their last raid against the dragon hunters. She volunteered to take their place. Unlike Snotlout or Fishlegs, she enjoyed patrols to have some time to herself and would take any opportunity to fly with Stormfly. They were a match made in Valhalla; a pair of warriors with a sense of duty to match.

She scouted all the areas and ticked them off her map, completing her round. Normally, she would be flying back to her hut and get a good night's sleep so she can wake up early and train her stealth skills with Stormfly. Tonight, however, she felt the need to remain in the sky a little while longer. She patted her dragon’s head, gaining her attention. She seemed to be happy gliding through the sky. They were blessed with a warm night, a clear sky, and a full moon; one would be a fool to remain indoors.

“What do you say we take a small detour and enjoy this beautiful night a bit more girl?” Her Nadder squawked in reply, as in to say yes.

Stormfly changed the course of her direction and headed north, opposite from where the Edge was. The gang rarely ventured north, they would’ve but the war against the hunters was most often waging south, not letting them have too much time on their hands to explore much anymore. Saving the dragons and getting rid of the hunters were their main priorities. Occasionally, to save themselves from being overworked and from the constant fear of a new attack, they would go into small groups to explore the nearby islands close to the edge; unless they have a breakthrough with the Dragon Eye, revealing a new species.

The pair were flying over a couple of islands they’ve already discovered before. They practiced some tricks that could be used in battle, but they were also having fun. They started to let their guards down a bit, fully aware that the hunters rarely treaded those waters...Rarely...

Stormfly stiffened, her quills stood upright. Astrid observed the area, fully trusting in her dragon’s instincts. She sensed danger in one of the two islands in proximity.

“What is it, girl?” Before Stormfly could react, a loud roar resounded at the large island to their left. The Nadder waited for her friend’s orders, ready to defend her at a moment’s notice.  

Astrid took out her spyglass to observe the island and frowned. She spotted two ships with the hunters’ insignia. She looked back and knew she was too far from the Edge for a distress call. Not only that, but it would also alert the hunters of a rider’s presence. Right now, she had to assess the situation and only had the element of surprise as an advantage.

“Let’s go Stormfly. We need to be as stealthy as possible for now.” She said as she patted her dragon’s shoulder. She made a noise of acknowledgment and flew in the direction of the distressed dragon.

They made sure they weren’t spotted as they landed close to the source of the sound. They moved within the bushes as Astrid counted the number of hunters. The roars were getting louder but were followed by the hunters’ yells, tormenting the poor dragon. Astrid couldn’t identify it by the sound it made, meaning it was either an undiscovered dragon or a dragon she rarely saw. Curiosity took over and signalled Stormfly to stay still and lay low, to which she complied, eyeing her trainer’s surroundings.

Astrid got closer to the last bush coverage and delicately separated the leaves to spy on the little clearing within the thick forest. Her eyes widened at the sight. The dragon wasn’t just an ordinary dragon. It was a titanwing Timberjack. It donned the radiant red and yellow colours of autumn. The moonlight reflecting on those vibrant scales. She couldn’t imagine how mesmerising would that dragon be under the sunlight, flying high above the clouds. It was beautiful.

A whipping sound resonated followed by the Timberjack’s agonising cries. Astrid frowned at the hunters’ cruelty. The dragon had chains wrapped around his snout, neck, and tail, keeping him grounded. She noticed a couple of dragonroot arrows stuck in his side, but it seemed that being a titanwing helped him not succumb completely to its effects in one shot. She reached behind her back and grab her axe’s handle, ready to attack.

Before she was able to do anything, the Timberjack frenziedly struggled, his razor-sharp wings cutting all the trees in proximity, some falling on the hunters. She saw in the corner of her eye Stormfly dashing towards her, projecting her in the clearing. Astrid landed ungraciously in front of the Timberjack, who suddenly stopped to look at the peculiar Viking.

Astrid got up and looked back at Stormfly and saw her crushed under a large tree. The same tree that was going to land on her. Her heart wrenched. Stormfly just saved her life.

“Stormfly!” She ran towards her dragon but was surrounded by some of the hunters. She took a battle stance and gripped her axe as if her life depended on it.

“Kill ‘er!” She heard.

An arrow flew towards her but she managed to parry it with her blade. She launched an attack, slicing her axe across one of the hunter’s chest. A couple of arrows flew towards her again, and used the injured hunter as a shield, killing him. When the hunters at the back had to reload their crossbows, Astrid saw an opportunity to launch herself towards the sword-wielding hunters with a battle cry that made them look at her in fear.

She was trained her whole life to kill dragons, she was always first in her class until Hiccup showed the tribe a brighter future. A couple of hunters wasn’t going to faze her. She was a fearless warrior, while she depended on the rest of the riders to watch her back during their many raids, she was very capable of fighting on her own.

She parried the many swords coming for her, never letting them have the upper hand, and slashed through the mass with ferocious dedication.

The riders did their best to not directly kill unless necessary. They didn’t enjoy having their hands soiled in blood, especially Hiccup and Fishlegs. They were too soft-hearted, always trying to find another solution to their problems. Astrid, however, doesn’t hesitate. If a loved one was in danger, she will not back down from an enemy and isn’t afraid to slice them down with her trusty axe. She is fiercely loyal like that. It doesn’t mean she enjoys it, but she will handle the guilt and nightmares without any qualms if it meant that she doesn’t get to see the people she loves die because of her hesitance.

With some of the hunters out of her way, she managed to create a passage towards Stormfly. She tried to lift the tree, but it was obvious from the start that she needed the strength of ten Vikings to be able to do so.

“Yer not goin’ anywhere little girl.” One of the hunters sneered at her as another wave approached her. “Nice of ye to bring us another dragon though, Viggo will surely be pleased.” He said as he looked at Stormfly.

Astrid wiped some blood off her forehead and stood in front of Stormfly, ready to defend her with her life. She was covered in blood, mostly from those scums, but she could feel the stinging from a couple of shallow cuts. It wasn’t enough to deter her as she glared at the approaching enemy. She quickly stole a glance at the Timberjack, who laid still as a rock. It was observing her with curiosity. It looked like it didn’t associate her with his tormenters. Clever boy. Her eyes went back to the hunters. Some of them released the chains to provide backup as they seemingly couldn’t bring one Viking warrior down.

“Bring it on.” She jeered at them.

They all charged at her. Astrid managed to avoid their attacks and sent a coupled of them to the ground, ending them with an accurate slice to the throat or a classic chop to the skull. The hunters were heavy on their feet and attacked clumsily. While she was alone, Astrid was quick on her feet, all her moves were calculated; she looked like she was dancing on the battlefield, avoiding a sword here and parrying a rogue arrow there. She never let the hunters land a fatal blow. Her focus was impeccable.

It wasn’t until she heard Stormfly’s distressed cried that she lost her focus. She turned around to look at her and saw a hunter approaching the vulnerable Nadder. Astrid was knocked to the ground, dropping her axe in the process. A heavy boot on her chest held her to the ground. She squirmed and tried to pry the leg off, but she wasn’t strong enough. She looked at the hunter and glared at him with all her might. If she was going to die, she will not die with fear written on her face. She was a warrior through and through and stared at Death in the eye, challenging it.

A strident cry distracted her and the hunter above her. Astrid suddenly felt the weight being lifted from her chest, letting her breathe properly again. The Timberjack managed to partially free himself from the chains since less hunters were holding him down. With a quick swipe of his tail, he knocked the men down as well as the large trunk that crushed Stormfly.

Astrid rushed towards her dragon and looked for injuries. Unfortunately, the Nadder seemed to have a broken leg from the impact and she sported a couple of scratches all over her body. Astrid lovingly caressed her beak.

“I’m so sorry girl, I should’ve paid attention.” Stormfly nuzzled her as if to say it wasn’t her fault.

“Thank you for saving my life, I owe you one.” She hugged her tightly, rubbing her nose against her warm scales. The Nadder purred.

A series of yelling brought Astrid back to reality. She looked at the source of the noise and her eyes widened. The hunters have grown in numbers, probably back up from the ships. She desperately looked at the Timberjack struggling to set himself free from the new invasion back to her injured dragon.

“Stormfly, you need to go back to the Edge, get back up.” Stormfly croaked and nuzzled her. She didn’t want to leave her friend here. “Please Stormfly. This is our only chance for all of us to survive. Do you trust me?” Astrid asked as she raised her hand towards her dragon, she felt the gentle touch of her beak. The rider smiled at her Nadder, giving her a quick hug, silently thanking her.

“Go.” Stormfly took off with difficulty, flying back as fast as she could. Astrid thanked the Gods that her dragon didn’t get her wings or tail too injured.

She turned around and dashed towards her axe, avoiding more arrows. She looked at the Timberjack, hoping it would look at her. To get out of here alive, she needed his complete trust. To her luck, his eyes landed back on her. She nodded at him, almost trying to signal him something before dashing towards the hunters holding the chains. She knocked them down one by one, they were easier to kill as their hands were holding the chains.

The Timberjack felt the grip loosen up and checked the Viking warrior’s surroundings. He spotted a line of archers aiming at her. He swiftly swiped his wings at the tree behind the archers, cutting them down in one fell swoop, sending the large trees tumbling down on the helpless archers.  

Astrid ran closer to the dragon and beckoned him to lower his head, which he did, trusting the girl to help him. She pried the chains off his snout, hoping he had enough firepower to get rid of the remaining hunters. The dragon noticed some men rushing towards them, he did not hesitate to finally use his fire to burn them and deter the ones reimaging on the side-line. They didn’t look so tough anymore. Losing to a chained dragon and a girl with an axe was a major hit to their egos. They had all the advantages on their side and yet they were helpless. Viggo was not going to be happy.

The Timberjack nudged Astrid with its snout. She looked at him, he didn’t seem to have an aggressive personality, which is probably one of the reasons he was captured in the first place. She raised her hand towards him and let him close the gap between them. She heard him purr.

“You’re absolutely extraordinary.” She said, her eyes filled with wonder. The dragon seemed to like her from the start and hoped he liked her enough to let her climb onto his back.

“Yer not getting away with our prize, girl.” She heard an annoying voice sneer. She rolled her eyes and turned around. The remaining hunters regrouped and were ready for another round. Astrid was already tired after fighting alone and she assumed the Titanwing was too. She glanced back at him and then at his flank where two arrows were sticking out. She hastily grabbed the arrows, looking at the dragon for confirmation. He just stared at her, not doing anything. She considered this enough and pulled. The dragon roared in pain but didn’t attack her. She was surprised at how fast he trusted her despite having a bad time with humans.  She just hoped he trusted her enough for her to climb on his back. They were tired and outnumbered and their best option is to fly away from this wretched place.

Astrid placed her hands on his shoulders, ready to jump on, but the Timberjack was a smart one and lowered himself enough for her to climb on with ease. He spread his wings and took off with a bit of difficulty, probably due to his injuries. Astrid held on tight as he cut through the surrounding trees, falling on some unfortunate hunters. With a mighty beat of his broad wings, they flew towards the sky, finally free.

While they enjoyed nesting in forests, Timberjacks were known for flying at a considerably high altitude, to which Astrid wasn’t accustomed to with Stormfly. She felt a colder wind blow through her hair, her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t feel the cold. The dragon produced great heat underneath her as compensation and she felt completely at ease sitting on a wild dragon. It wasn’t often that she rode a dragon that wasn’t her Nadder, it felt strange. While she had to constantly lean forward and keep ahold of her saddle as a Nadder’s back curves downwards, the Timberjack didn’t have legs pulling itself down, keeping a straight back in flight. Astrid had more stability and his gigantic wings, bare of spines provided more room for her to sit. She felt the powerful beat of his wings as they soared majestically through the air. She felt so light. She felt free.

Astrid spread her arms, savouring the cool air, and let out a laugh as the dragon playfully cut through the clouds for fun.

“Oh my Gods, this is amazing! You’re amazing!” She blissfully shouted, giving the dragon a pat. “What I wouldn’t give to have wings acting as axes.” She joked. Her eyes widened, “Hey, that’s what I’ll call you. Axewing! How about that?” Axewing let out a shrill roar, expressing his approval. Astrid laughed again. “A fitting name for a warrior. Gods, for a moment I thought we were done for.” She admitted.

They soared for a while, enjoying their newly found freedom. Despite not knowing each other for very long, Astrid knew that she found a connection with this dragon. Of course, Stormfly will always be her dragon soulmate, her best friend, but she saw a fighting spirit in him that reminded her of Stormfly. She was sure they would get along great.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar strident whistling sound of a fast-approaching Night Fury. Toothless blended with the dark sky, so she was thankful that Hookfang was accompanying him, he was easier to spot thanks to his fire-coated scales illuminating the sky. Astrid beckoned Axewing to fly down and join them as the riders haven’t spotted her from up high.

They blocked their paths, forcing them to abruptly stop. The riders’ eyes widened as they saw who was riding the Titanwing Timberjack.

“What took you so long?” Astrid mused.

“Astrid! You’re okay!” Hiccup exclaimed; relief evident in his voice. “We were so worried something bad happened to you when Stormfly came back without you and a broken leg.”

“How is she?” She asked, a worried look etched on her face.

“Fishlegs is tending to her. He said she’ll be fine as long as we keep an eye on her recovery.” Hiccup answered. Astrid let out a relieved sigh.

“Ugh, by the way, who’s this and why are you covered in blood?” Snotlout pointed at the Timberjack and then back at the bloodstained Viking warrior.

Astrid patted her new friend, “That’s Axewing, and long story short we ran into a large group of hunters capturing this poor fella, I’ll explain more to you once we’re back at the Edge.” She nudged Axewing to resume their flight back home, Hiccup and Snotlout following on their tail.

Astrid turned around and asked, “By the way, how did you find me without Stormfly?”

“I saw you flying north while I was on a flight with Toothless. We’ve flown there a couple of times in the past and there aren’t a lot of islands nearby, so our best bet to find you was to check them all.” Her betrothed responded. Astrid nodded, facing forward again.

“Hey, Astrid?” She saw Hiccup guide Toothless next to her in the corner of her eye. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m glad you’re safe.” She smiled at him and nodded, still gazing at his beautiful green eyes.

“Ugh, enough eye-fucking already. I’m still here, do you have no sense of decency? Gods!” Snotlout’s voice resonated from behind the couple, who simply ignored him.

oOo

I don’t know if it completely fits the prompt, but that’s the idea I had. Hope you liked it!

[kayokos-villain-imagines]

SFW Alphabet with Atsuhiro UwU?^^

// Sorry I haven’t been posting a lot, I’ll post more in the summer 😓. //

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Atsuhiro’s not the clingy-affectionate type, but he’s affectionate nonetheless. He shows affection by spending time with you and attending to your needs, both things he is reluctant to do for anyone else.

 B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Atsuhiro’s the second most aloof in the league (after Stabi Dabi), so it’s kinda hard to platonically get close to him. That being said, it is possible, as long as you show the right amount of interest in a friendship (not too much, not too little), and always act impressed with his tricks. He’s the type of best friend who’ll never come out and admit how close you are, but nobody better dare lay a finger on you.

 C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’s not fond of feeling vulnerable, but Atsuhiro does enjoy sitting with you pressed into his side and an arm draped around your shoulders.

 D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He likes the excitement of his life, but he does want to settle down, eventually. He can cook and clean pretty well, but can be stubborn if someone asks him to.

 E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’s tell them up front, and give them justifiable reasons why the relationship isn’t working. He’d expect the same of anyone who wants to break up with him.

 F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It takes a bit to earn his full trust, but Atsuhiro is not fickle. You may end up dating him for well over a year, but he’ll definitely realize that you’re the one.

 G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

In both respects Atsuhiro’s not careless with you, but he’s not overprotective. He’ll be fairly honest with you, even if it hurts your feelings, but he’d never be cruel to you and he’ll always reassure you that it’s going to be okay.

 H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s not opposed to hugs, but Atsuhiro isn’t clingy, either. He’ll hug you on special occasions, if you’re upset, or is he just feels the need to, but that’s about it. He won’t refuse a hug from you, though. His hugs are typically brief and formal, if that makes sense. Long hugs only happen if you’re crying, or you refuse to let go. He won’t push you away.

 I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Atsuhiro is surprisingly slow to say it. He doesn’t really not say it, he’ll just avoid saying “I love you” for a while. The reason for this is rather sweet; he needs to know for sure that you’re the one before giving you his whole heart.

 J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Never gets jealous. Even if you’re intentionally flirting with other guys, he’ll just laugh it off. If he ever did get jealous, you’d never know, since all he’d do is sweep you off your feet with a passionate kiss to determine if you’re still loyal.

 K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

The master of kisses (unless you’re super into french kissing, in which case *looks over at Stain*). Lip kisses are usually reserved for private settings, but he loves giving ear, neck, forehead, nose, and cheek kisses in public to see how you react.

 L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Ehhhhh…. Atsuhiro doesn’t hate kids, and he’s not reckless with them, but he doesn’t like kids and wouldn’t want to take care of any (until you’re giving birth and he holds his kid for the first time and he realizes he’s in love, but that’s a story for another time). To put it simply, Atsuhiro can handle childcare if absolutely necessary, but neither party is likely to enjoy the experience much.

 M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Atsuhio gets up fairly early, but he’ll always give you a kiss on the forehead before he goes downstairs. He has an almost psychic ability to sense when you’ve awakened, so he’ll come back in to say good morning.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Atsuhiro has a fairly steady sleep schedule. He goes to bed not too early, but not too late, and usually falls asleep around the same time every night (unless Shigaraki needs him for something). This means that you’ll be falling asleep alone if you go to bed earlier than him. 

 O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Unsurprisingly, Atsuhiro is very secretive about his personal life. As previously mentioned, it takes him a while to fully trust you, but he’ll try not to keep secrets once he’s deemed you as trustworthy. He still has difficulty being fully honest with you about some things, but he really does try.

 P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Atsuhiro is very patient. He has a pretty good sense of your emotions and how you react to things, so he’ll know when you’re upset with him versus anything else.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers just about everything he’d ever need to know to date you. He never passes up a chance to show it off and impress you, either.

 R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It would probably be the day he fully opened up to you. It was the same day he realized he’d be with you for a very long time.

 S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s not overprotective, per se, but he won’t hesitate to protect you in a dangerous situation by putting himself in between you and the danger. He won’t show much fear or worry in the moment, but it’s easy to tell that something’s off.

 T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Atsuhiro loves to show off and impress you, so he puts all the effort he can into everything he does, while making it all seem easy. Whether he’s planning an elaborate date night or just doing some of your chores, your grateful expression brings a smile to his face.

 U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a habit of keeping secrets from you/not telling you things. He doesn’t mean to, he’s just grown used to not keeping people close. He’ll try to change if you call him out on it, but the problem will only get worse if you don’t.

 V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Atsuhiro is pretty comfortable with his looks, and he doesn’t particularly dislike any part of himself. Until Season 4, that is. It takes time and patience getting used to a prosthetic, and sometimes even he gets frustrated with it. Having you there to support and encourage him would really help his progress.

 W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

More than he would expect. He’s so used to being independent that he’s surprised when he misses you while he’s gone on missions, or if you ever separate.

 X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Atsuhiro secretly wants a pet. His parents never let him have anything besides fish, so he’d kind of like having something else. He’d never tell anyone, though, so you’d have to find that out for yourself.

 Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not necessarily something he wouldn’t like, but Atsuhiro cannot be with someone as proud and flashy as he is, or the relationship won’t progress well. Other than that, he also wouldn’t like a partner who is mean to the other members of the League. He cares about them, even if he’d never admit that.

 Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Atsuhiro is a light sleeper, and he wakes up a lot during the night. Your voice helps put him to sleep.

|ω･)ﾉ

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Did MJ try to make Spidey retire?

Short answer: Never when she was in character and never unjustifiably!

The number of times I’ve heard people claim this is unbelievable. I’m going to settle this shit once and for all. Feel free to share this with anyone making these claims.

The simplest way to do this would be to run through things chronologically.

Unless anybody can bring up other examples, off the top of my head I can recall only three times before ‘One More Day’ where MJ floated the idea of Peter retiring.

The first time was in ASM #283. However the important context of this is that Peter himself  has already resolved to quit as soon as he is done with his latest case involving his friend Flash Thompson.

However further important context is that Peter has resolved to retire even earlier in ASM #275 and in that issue it was MJ (after learning his origin story) who encouraged him to NOT quit.

An issue later she was back to being against his work as Spider-Man.

However, many issues around this era (which was before  they got married!) depict MJ flip-flopping on her feelings and the reasons why boil down to her being concerned for Peter’s safety.

At which point why is MJ being out of order in desiring him to  retire? She loves this man and doesn’t want him to be hurt but also understands why he does what he does and it’s that fundamental heroism that is a major reason for why she loves him. This is again summed up in Web of Spider-Man #6.

Next up we have an example of when MJ didn’t  ask Peter to quit. But people always treat it as though she did so we’re going to address it anyway.

It stems from the clusterfuck that was ‘Maximum Carnage’.

Let’s give you that all-important context.

In Spider-Man Unlimited #1 Pete and MJ are attending Harry Osborn’s funeral. Harry died in chronologically the story right before ‘Maximum Carnage’ so this is a very fresh wound; he died merely days earlier.

Prior to his death, Harry had been waging months of psychological warfare on the Parkers and even tried to kill Peter. His attempt actually almost killed MJ and his own son Normie. During this whole time Harry’s wife (now widow) Liz Allan had been pushed to her wits end too.

As a result Mary Jane is reluctant to talk to Liz.

Also, for months now (starting with Carnage’s debut actually) MJ had taken up smoking to cope with the stress of their lives, chiefly her concern for Peter’s well-being. This topic and her behaviour at the funeral gets raised when they return home.

The talk zeroes in on the risks to Peter’s life and how he and MJ got lucky with Harry. MJ asks Peter to take a break for a week or two.

Not retire permanently.

Not take an indefinite hiatus.

Not even take a break for a month or definitely two weeks.

She literally asks for 7-14 Spider-Man free days so they can de-stress and catch their breaths in the wake of a serious crisis and loss.

Peter promises he will.

Unfortunately Carnage has just broken free of the authorities and formed a gang.

For the sake of argument let’s say MJ doesn’t know much about Carnage’s cronies. She just knows he has back up.

However, she absolutely knows about Carnage.

As his name implies, is an incredibly lethal foe. You know Venom, that guy who’s famous for being a bigger badder version of Spider-Man? Yeah Carnage is an even more powerful version of that  guy. Spider-Man one-on-one is physically incapable to defeating him and had to team up with Venom to do it. Even then they actually weren’t strong enough to beat him physically because Carnage is stronger than the pair of them combined!

Making matters worse Carnage’s whole body is extremely durable to injury, with blunt force not being the most effective way of fighting him. His forte is being able to quickly generate a large arsenal of sharp edged weapons from his body; think the T-1000.

This skillset is appropriate given how Carnage prior to obtaining any of these super powers was already a highly violent and sadistic serial killer who killed purely for the pleasure of it. How violent and sadistic? 11 life sentences merely for hi known  crimes. That’s how violent and sadistic. And again, this was when he was just a normal guy.

Oh, and on top of all that he doesn’t trigger Peter’s Spider Sense, making him immeasurably more vulnerable to an already overwhelming powerful foe.

He is possibly the single most physically dangerous Spider-Man villain of all!

This isn’t idle little trivia about the character by the way. It is key to his whole concept and was laid out explicitly in his original appearance. In fact, in that first appearance he was so powerful that Peter was helpless and forced to team up with Venom, who lived to kill him!

Even when backed up by Cloak and Dagger, Spider-Man’s ribs take a pounding from Carnage, Shriek and Doppelganger. It is in this injured state he returns home to a concerned and naturally  upset Mary Jane.

She then begins an argument with Peter when he tells her he plans on going back out there.

Let’s sum up so far.

MJ has been stressed for months prior to this to the point where she’s started smoking.

Peter and her nearly died mere days ago because their friend went psycho.

Said friend died in front of them.

Their other friend, his wife (who MJ was naturally going to relate more to since they were both the wives of costumes folks) is now a grieving widow.

MJ’s husband promised her he’d take a break for a little while so they can recover a bit.

Her husband then almost immediately went back on that promise.

His risking his life again against a bad guy who’s all but guaranteed to kill him if he fights him alone.

Last time MJ’s husband beat this guy he did it with the help of a powerful nasty piece of work who wanted to kill him. Even then they only just won. That’s how dangerous Carnage is.

This time Peter is fighting him alone, whilst injured, and Carnage has two  people backing him up.

So if it wasn’t a guarantee that Peter was dead meat before, now she might as well get ahead by planning the funeral.

THAT is the context behind MJ’s rage and desire for Peter to not be Spider-Man temporarily  in this story.

However, noticeably by the end of the story she’s changed her mind!

We then jump forward to the ‘Clone Saga’, specifically a mini-series called Spider-Man: the Final Adventure.

The context behind this story was that Peter, upon believing he was a clone and that Ben Reilly was in truth the original Peter Parker, had decided to retire and support a pregnant Mary Jane.

To this end they had both left New York but due to a lab experiment involving Peter’s blood a serial killer had mutated into a spiderlike monster. With no other heroes around Peter suits up again as Spider-Man to the dismay of the heavily pregnant Mary Jane who wants him to NOT do that.

Is this MJ being not as understanding as she could be, maybe even selfish to some degree?

Sure.

Is it also Peter being in the wrong too?

Also yes, the story brilliantly points that out.

But more significantly prior to this story the Parkers had been through Hell.

In less than a year (in-universe):

Peter’s robot parents had turned up pretending to be the genuine articles

They’d betrayed Peter, breaking his heart

Their close friend Harry Osborn had gone mad

Harry and used his knowledge of Peter’s identity to torment the Parkers

Aunt May had gone into a coma

Peter had suffered a mental breakdown

Ben Reilly and other clones had shown up (including clones of Pter’s murdered lover Gwen Stacy)

Aunt May has passed away

Peter was framed for murder

MJ had been targeted for abduction more than once

They’d discovered MJ was pregnant and that the baby might have serious health issues due to Peter’s mutated DNA

Peter was revealed as a clone and had a second mental breakdown

During his mental distress Peter had accidentally smacked MJ across the room

The Jackal had nearly killed everyone on the planet

The Jackal mind controlled Peter into trying to murder MJ

MJ had nearly died due to complications with the pregnancy

That isn’t even everything but all that stuff had been happening across the previous three years of publication alone. And as I said in-universe it was less than a year.

So MJ and Peter had been through a LOT of horrible and stressful things that had put them both on the edge and sometimes over it. Most of that stuff was connected to Peter’s life as Spider-Man that MJ always had mixed feelings about at best. And now after Peter FINALLY retired and their lives were blissfully normal, allowing them to catch their breaths and do some much needed healing, Peter is coming out of retirement…When it isn’t 100% necessary for him to do so.

And all this is happening during MJ’s second or third trimester when she is very obviously heavily pregnant. This often can be a stressful time for pregnant people generally and of course sometimes mood swings occur due to hormones firing all over the place. And MJ is dealing with super powered spider hormones on top of all this. With a baby that is a total lottery because nobody on Earth has ever been pregnant with a half human/half spider powered baby before.

Given that she is dealing with ALL that is it really unreasonable for her to desire for Peter to simply continue to be retired.

She isn’t demanding he give up being a hero.

She is angry and demanding that Peter CONTINUE the choice he already made about giving up.

Which is not the same thing and she was okay with him going back into the hero game after he pregnancy concluded.

Finally we come to the Howard Macke/John Byrne run on Spider-Man where MJ again desired Peter’s retirement.

Here is the thing, MJ once again was desiring Peter STAY retired as opposed to demanding he outright quit.

Moreover the Mackie/Byrne era was a period where MJ, Peter and other characters were often written incredibly out of character practically systemically. For example Flash Thompson behind Peter’s back literally made fun of the fact that his girlfriend Gwen Stacy and his wife Mary Jane were dead (at the time MJ’s death was faked by a stalker).

Peter and MJ were actually written in this reductive way back during this run as part of an editorial policy to break up the marriage.

The thinking at the time was to make their relationship unlikable in order to make people glad for when they got rid of it via killing off Mary Jane and leaving Peter single.

So essentially not only was MJ and Peter out of character back during this era but they were literally being sabotaged so readers would hate them.

Between that and how OOC (out of character) the characterizations were back then this by rights should simply not count in any analysis of the characters.

Now, there have been instanced post-OMD of MJ clearly wanting, asking, demanding, etc. for Peter to quit.

But as with the Mackie/Byrne era (or Black Cat from 2009-2018) these are out of character and should not truly count.

So when written in character and when there are not extenuating circumstances (like pregnancies) involved, Mary Jane would actually not ask Peter to quit and never truly has.

[taytei]

More Ancient AU facts

Stuff that got asked and answered over on my insta that I figured I’d share here as well!

- Lance asked keith out first out loud, but Keith kinda already figured they were dating at that point already (they totally were)

- Keith’s wings are only vaguely sensitive on the webbing on the inner side. They’re actually incredibly durable and can be used practically as shields.

- Soulmates are a thing in this au now by the way

- When you meet your soulmate, it’s an instant connection, a gut feelings. The idea of being separated from them is just so viscerally upsetting, it’s almost painful. Most people meet when they’re older.

- Lance and Keith tho, met when they were babies, so you can imagine how two kids throwing monstrous temper tantrums cause they want to see each other can go sahklhkglsa

- so they didn’t actually realize that they were soulbound until they were older shakhlgsa

- they realized it because, when people get older, they get restless and feel the need to travel to find their partner. Keith and Lance never once felt that way. The closest to that was whenever they were separated from one another. And it just clicked that, “oh, yea, that makes sense” but also kind of “goddamnit, of course it’s him”

- Also, if you are an Ancient’s soulmate, but you yourself are not an ancient, once you soulbond, you basically become immortal so you can stay with them forever

- Lance and Keith intertwine their tails a lot, it’s basically like holding hands

- I just wanna clarify also, that Lance isn’t strictly a mermaid in this AU. He’s an Ocean Descendent, an Ancient one at that. He sticks mostly with the mermaid form because that’s what his parents found most comfortable, so it’s his default. He can take on the form of ANY water based mythical creature if he so wants.

- Also, don’t touch his tail. Unless you are family, a close friend, or given explicit permission, you do not touch his tail.

- Keith takes Lance flying, whether Lance asks him to or not. sometimes he’ll just scoop lance up out of the water unexpectedly

- wing hugs. Ever since they were little, keith has tried his best to wrap his wings around him and lance, even if they weren’t big enough. Once they grew to full size, he would often just cacoon the two of them in his wings whenever he was feeling vulnerable, needy, or protective

- Lance and Keith own an apartment together gsakhlsa

- but they also have their own island that they escape to whenever they feel the need to get away (it was a gift from Hunk for their wedding)

- On their first official date, Lance called in a favor from Allura and asked for a “cosmic light show that’s gonna sweet Keith off his feet and right into my arms”

- something like the northern lights with exploding stars and a metero shower happening all at once ended up being of the most nearly-life threatening but also romantic moments they could have asked for

- i say “life-threatening” but Ancients can’t actually be killed.

- they can be wounded and hurt badly enough that they go into a “resting/healing period”, which is mostly a meditative coma, but they can’t be killed by an outside source.

    - when either Lance or Keith is in their resting/healing period, they experience the same feelings as when they’re separated, only like 500x more potent. They’re restless and anxious and more protective and it’s practically impossible to pry them away from the other’s side

- they decide when they want to go out, and once they do, they join The Colony of the Cosmos, where Allura and her small group of people reside.

- Only the Ancients go to the Colony once they decide to die, everyone else on the planet just gets reincarnated over and over again.

- Lance, Keith, Hunk and Shiro’s families are all Ancients, so they all get to go to the colony when they decide its their time

- A bit about the Colony, they’re people of pure cosmic energy. Ruled by Allura and her family. (Honerva and Zarkon are happily married, and Lotor never grew up troubled, they’re perfectly happy).

- When any of the Ancients become cosmic beings, they lose their descendent-attributes (Lance would lose his ear-fins, Keith would lose his horns, etc) and they would gain the Altean-esque ears and specialized markings

- but Cosmic Beings can alter their appearance however they want, so they can always give those attributes back to themselves if they really wanted them

- Lance’s home in built into the underside of a massive island right off the main shoreline

- which Keith visits on quite a few occasions, once he’s granted the Blessed Breath (which is an enchantment that involves an Ocean Ancient tracing a magic rune along their throat that allows them to breathe under water. It’s generally permanent, if used consistently and as long as the caster doesn’t dispel the magic)

- he was only allowed to have it once he actually learned out to swim

- also, it’s impossible for Lance to ever ever drown, even if he’s in his human form

- keith’s is basically the equivalent of lava girl’s land, filled with volcanoes and lava rivers, but there ARE forests of Ash trees and they have beautiful hot springs

- It’s really hot there tho. Lance can visit and endure the heat pretty well, since he’d been visiting since he was little, but he needs to have a canteen of water at hand at all times.

- plus the kogane family had a cooling spring implemented for when lance and his family decided to visit

- Everyone has the ability to look entirely human, no scales, horns, wings, tails, etc, but it’s not really necessary, unless they enter a “Human Glamour required” zone

- Everyone is aware that Ancients exist. they just kind of assume they stay in their “pristine palaces, too good to mingle with the common folk”, not realizing the doofus that just dabbed and the boyfriend that got whacked in the face because of that are two of the most powerful beings in the world

- and being ancients, they’re KIND of famous? once people find out that they ARE ancients. Cause really, they blend pretty seamlessly among everyone else. Most people just assuming they’re common ocean/fire descendent civilians

- people are usually more like “whoa, what? really? YOU’RE an Ancient? I just watched you coke on a baby carrot for almost a solid minute”

- usually that’s followed by people asking just how old they actually are

- Lance & Keith: “it’s been a long time, lost track”     - Keith: *actually lost track of how old they are* Lance: *refuses to reveal just how old he actually is*

- Keith gives Lance gifts of gold and jewels and cool weapons that his people either find in their caves or craft from their magma

- the trident that lance has is actually a gift from Keith’s family. The metal is unable to rust or age, it’s completely unbreakable, and with an utterance of a spell, the metal will heat to the same temperature as if it was being forged (like the sun-forge elf blades from the dragon prince)

- meanwhile Lance gives keith ocean found objects, pearls, sea stones, shark teeth, weapons coated in some of the sea’s most poisonous creatures, stuff like that

- Shiro: “I uploaded my music to the cloud, look”     An actual rain cloud: *starts playing Africa by Toto*

- Shiro also CAN have normal human feet, but he actively chooses to have bird legs cause he can pick stuff up with his toes without needing to bend over

- When Lance was first learning how to walk, he first went to Allura so he could surprise everyone with how great he is at walking. Only, she taught him by basically playing QWOP with his legs. (google it if you haven’t heard of it, it’s fucking hilarious)

- Hunk is an Earth Ancient, able to shift continents and form mountains with nothing but a thought

- he popped up a statue of Keith for Lance to take to his underwater cavern where Lance keeps all the jewels and gold that Keith gives him, where he basically performs a Part of your World on a constant.

- Pidge is NOT an ancient. She’s a new Age, and gained the figurehead position at a young age because she founded a new type of magic

and FINALLY

- how Shiro lost his wing, how he met adam, and can he ever fly again???

- the accident happened back when he was still a teenager, when Lance’s and Keith’s parents were still the ruling figureheads for their territories. There was a brief moment of imbalance in their world when either Krolia or Lance’s mom was severely injured and wnt into a healing period.

- with the balance so suddenly being thrown off so early in the world’s creation, there was a power backlash throughout the Ancients.

- Shiro got zapped right out of the sky by his own lightning, his wing got fried, and it broke when he crashed landed down

- he lost his wing, since there was ... absolutely no way to salvage it.

- he went to the Forest Fae, as they were renowned healers, when his wing was still aching, and hoping maybe there was an alternative for his wing

- And that’s where he met (one) of his soulmates, adam. (eventually they meet Curtis, cause damnit, shiro deserves two soulmates, LET THE MAN BE LOVED). Adam helped with the phantom pains and worked his best to help the wing heal properly, even if it wouldn’t ever be able to grow in full again

- and as for whether shiro can fly, there IS an alternative.

- a super complicated spell called the “Spirit of the wing”, which basically gives him a spectral wing to make up for what he’s lost. but it is incredibly exhausting on the user, and tends to make his phantom pains act up more severely

- so he only uses it when he absolutely needs to

sorry that this was so long! But I thought that i would share them!

[felicityfiction]

[bulletproof glass part 2] part 1

jung yunho.

see, san and yunho are not strangers. at least, not to san.

choi san knows that jung yunho is in the same position as him. well, nearly

he’s not anyone important, a mere subordinate to a leader named kim hongjoong. according to what intelligence they have on hongjoong, jung yunho is something of a brother. but not being blood related, he has no chance of succeeding him as leader.

here’s another tidbit of information. jung yunho is what choi san would consider a coward. he cries too easily, hurts too openly and loves far, far too many. most of all, he hesitates to kill. not even a human, just a fly. jung yunho is a fish out of water in the realm of the mafias.

so actually, he’s nothing like san. san, who feels at home with a pistol in his bedside drawer, a dagger under his pillow, and a burning desire to cause pain and agony.

if choi san was bulletproof, then jung yunho was glass.

when choi san sees jung yunho for the second time in his life, he’s standing at his father’s side, facing down hongjoong,who looks far too pleased with himself.

“our territory, choi. you’re intruding. we still have rules here, you know.”

san doesn’t like that they’re meeting in hongjoong’s territory. his father’s choice of guard was sparse. himself, seonghwa and eden. of course, there was an armoured vehicle waiting five feet from where they stood, but in a gunfight, five feet was impossible to cross. san’s arrogance is hereditary.

but still, choi san is not afraid. he’s alert, aware of the five guards behind hongjoong, each armed with hand guns and knives. they stand ramrod straight behind their leader, eyes darting left and right, as if san’s father could pull an army of assassins out of thin air to unleash upon them. san smirks. newbies

he could take them down blindfolded with one hand.

“a small mistake, kim. our runner went off course. please, accept my sincere apologies. i guarantee it will not happen again.” sarcasm drips from san’s father’s words, and san finds himself amused. “we brought replacement goods. i’m sure you’ll find them up to standard.” he snaps his fingers and san moves towards hongjoong.

all at once, there are five guns trained on him, and he laughs. “relax, boys. i won’t touch your leader.” not here, anyway.

he drops the box a few meters from hongjoong’s feet with a mock bow. he sees the leader’s eyebrows raise in amusement, and san thinks that perhaps him and hongjoong could get along in another universe. “this one has some bite, choi.”

san retreats back to his father’s side, satisfied that he captured the attention of hongjoong. of course, you’d have to be blind not to be at least intrigued by choi san.

“of course. he’s mine.”

that’s unexpected. san’s identity usually wasn’t revealed unless absolutely necessary. you know, to prevent the target on his back from growing bigger. evidently, san’s father doesn’t think that hongjoong poses any real threat. san begs to differ, because he sees something in hongjoong’s eyes sharpen.

“don’t be a fool, kim.” the warning is glaring. the closest san has gotten to paternal affection in his lifetime were the times that his father warded off threats to his life. how fun.

“never, choi. i wouldn’t underestimate yours.”

san’s father clicks his tongue, and turns on his heels. “the songs, they could be out to get us next. i heard the leader just died, and new one is fiesty, doesn’t know how to respect the order. might need to put out a little warning. i’ll be in touch.”

“see you around, choi.”

san’s father halts in his steps, a grin slinking onto his face. “by the way, kim. i thought your little brother preferred to stay indoors, away from any potential violence? why, he looks rather comfortable out here with a gun in his hands, don’t you think? might consider training him.”

immediately, hongjoong’s voice becomes harsher. “he’ll do what he wants, choi. i don’t need your opinions.”

san, still facing him, sees the man directly behind hongjoong stiffen at his father’s words. bingo

“of course, of course. it’s just that he’s rather precious, isn’t he?” san’s father taps his heel against the floor as a form of goodbye, and strolls out of the warehouse with eden trailing behind him.

san thinks that there’s nothing hongjoong would like more than to put a bullet in his father’s back. the thought cracks him up.

he does a once over of the man behind hongjoong. he’s quite a bit taller than san, and he looks like if he worked out a bit more, he could be intimidating. but of course, his face was his downfall. he had eyes that were much too big to look intimidating, and perhaps the softest facial features san had ever seen in his life. he fidgets in his place, eyes downcast.

“bet you can’t wait for your old man to kick the bucket so you can gain power, huh?”

san laughs, a light tinkling laugh that seonghwa has learned to mean imminent danger. “i don’t need him to be dead to take power, hongjoong.” the leader’s first name rolls off his tongue smoothly, pulling hongjoong down and forcing him to see san as an equal. the man behind hongjoong looks up, and san winks.

jung yunho visibly pales, and san’s decided he’s had enough fun for tonight.

he stalks off after his father with a wave, pleased that he’s made an impression on the kim leader that was not to be forgotten.

in the car, seonghwa looks troubled, glancing at san several times while fisting his hands in his shirt.

“what now?” san can’t be bothered with any of seonghwa’s nagginess today. it’s probably something to do with maintaining amicable relations and knowing his place, blahblah. if anything, san just earned hongjoong’s respect.

“nothing.” any other time, san would pry, because he could. but today, he takes seonghwa’s flimsy excuse and relaxs into his seat.

the first time choi san sees jung yunho, he’s sixteen, and been permitted to sit in on meetings with his father for the first time.

hongjoong has come to declare himself the new leader of his group, as per tradition. san’s father accepts, because he’s really not that interested in the kims territory, seeing as it’s much smaller than their own.

san barely notices the boy behind hongjoong who shakes in his shoes. he does notice when hongjoong reaches out a hand to rest it on the boy’s shoulder. a form of comfort, san muses.

weakness.

san is sure this boy would be the downfall of kim hongjoong. but then hongjoong is gone after signing some contracts that continue their fragile alliance, taking the boy out of the room and out of san’s mind.

he learns the boy’s name.

“kim hongjoong has an achilles’ heel, i see.” twirling a cigarette between his fingers, san’s father looks thoughtfully at his advisor. “who is that?”

“jung yunho, sir. a childhood friend. perhaps a brother,of sorts. nothing to be worried about.”

“oh, i’m the opposite of worried. he’s leverage. might come in handy one day, who knows?”

jung yunho. the name means nothing to san.

the third time san sees jung yunho, it’s at his favourite cafe.

the boy is sipping a pink smoothie, eyes focused on a laptop in front of him, fingers flying over the keyboard.

san wonders why he remembers him so easily.

he looks young. far too pure for what san knows he’s involved in. he looks much more at ease among the normal population, dressed in a hoodie emblazoned with the insignia of seoul university.

a student. how peculiar, seeing as there’s really no need for him to be worried about finding a job.

if san didn’t know better, he’d think that yunho looked rather cute.

“hello.”

mental note 1: jung yunho startles easily. the smoothie nearly topples over onto his laptop, and he fumbles around to straighten the cup.

“don’t look so scared. i’m not here to do anything.” san spreads his hands in a gesture of peace, disregarding the dagger hidden in his boot, of course.

“what do you want?”

mental note 2: jung yunho tries very hard to be scary.

“nothing. just thought i’d come and chat.”

“like we have anything to chat about.” yunho’s posture becomes guarded, and he has a hand wrapped around his phone, ready to dial for someone to come get him in case san attacked him. which was a ridiculous notion, because they were in public, and san would prefer not to get banned from this cafe. they have very good coffee.

“you’re rather interesting, jung yunho.” san drops his voice to a whisper, leaning in closer across the table as yunho shrinks back, eyes wide. “a member of the korean mafia and the seoul university basketball team, i see. odd combination, wouldn’t you think?”

yunho shuts his eyes momentarily, and opens them to find san’s blazing irises staring directly into his. he feels vulnerable, like choi san was trespassing into his soul. “i don’t think that’s really any of your business. go away.”

san leans back, bringing his coffee to his lips. how cute, he can’t curse.

“i’m choi san. i think we’ll be seeing each other around, darling.” san leaves yunho gaping after him, his grip on his phone now slack, but his heart is beating erratically fast.

seonghwa is waiting outside the cafe, and once again, worry graces his friend’s features.

“who-“

“seonghwa, you’re going to age prematurely if you keep frowning like that. there’s nothing to worry about.”

“why were you fraternising with kim hongjoong’s brother?”

san chuckles. seonghwa was always so dramatic. “i wasn’t fraternising. i was being friendly. we’ll probably be meeting more often, and it’s nice to have a few familiar faces, don’t you think?”

“like you would be friendly, choi san.”

“you wound me.” san tosses his car keys at seonghwa and clambers into the backseat of his car. “don’t think i didn’t notice, seonghwa. you seem like you know kim hongjoong, more than my father does.”

seonghwa has to swallow his shock, but san sees the tightening of his grip on the steering wheel. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“sure, seonghwa. i believe you. i always do.”

san chews on his straw, and unknowingly makes another mental note.

he wants to see jung yunho again.

the first time seonghwa sees jung yunho, it’s a photo on a tablet, five days before they meet hongjoong in the warehouse.

“of course, you can’t tell him yet. we’re still trying to decide the method. that’d break the rules.” seonghwa nods his understanding, but his heartbeat pounds in his ears.

he’s san’s initiation. hongjoong can’t hurt us over him, not unless he wants a war that he can’t win.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Full Shares

I have one helluva backlog of films to work through but, between those and other distractions, i am having just the dickens of a time getting through them. I’ve started Uncut Gems three different times but the tension, man, it stresses me out way too much. I have to take breaks in between and just forget about where i left off so i need to start over. I have to say, though, the twenty to thirty minutes i have seen is absolutely excellent. In the meantime, while i muster enough nerve to actually finish that film, i wanted to revisit one of my all-time favorites. Way back when i first saw this movie, it gave me the same intense, stressed out, panic i feel watching Gems. Alien changed the way that I interacted with film and, to this day, it’s one of maybe a handful of movies to ever illicit true fear from me. I saw it, for the first time as a young kid of maybe six or seven, in a late night showing on TV and i remember even the broadcast edit spazzing me the f*ck out. Imagine my apprehension seeing the theatrical cut fr the first time a few years later. As i got older and learned to appreciate the moving parts of film individually, i came to love Alien even more. Not only is it actually terrifying. it’s one of the best built movies i have ever seen and carries the template for bad-ass film like a badge of honor. Cats say the sequel, which i’ll get to in a later review, is better than the first, but i wholeheartedly disagree. This movie is easily top three all-time for me and here’s why. I have to tell you from the outset, this movie is perfect in my opinion. There  are no flaw so don’t expect any negative, just me gushing about the excellence within.

The Outstanding

The very best aspect of this movie is easily Sigourney Weaver’s portrayal as Ellen Ripley. My goodness, was this character absolutely amazing. When people think of Ripley, they often remember Cameron’s version of her from Aliens. To most people, Ripley is that chick, strapped down in a power loader, calling the Queen Xenomorph a b*tch to her face. That is, undeniably, iconic. Ellen Ripley solidified the template for strong, female, lead with that scene. But Ripley didn’t start out that way. She had to earn that title and it began with her battle for survival in the original Alien. Ripley began as an undermined, kind of by-the-book, Warrant Office, just trying to get back in time for her daughter’s eleventh birthday. Over the course of two hours, we watched Ripley evolve into the absolute unit that she is known for and the nuanced portrayal of that evolution by Weaver shows us the harrowing journey with an almost visceral vulnerability. Ellen Ripley is not a character, she is a person. You feel for this woman and her struggle. You root for her. You gasp when she fails. You want her to survive. To get attached to a film character so completely is testimony to the excellence of that actor’s performance and Sigourney Weaver turns one in for the ages. Not bad for a twenty-year-old’s second film appearance, first speaking role.

You can’t speak about Alien without the iconic imagery provided by the nightmares of H.R. Giger’s art. The raw, horrifyingly sexual, disgustingly organic, yet wholly bizarre vestiges of the LV-426 hive were incredible. That initial pan of the fossilized Space Jockey fused to his pilot’s seat can’t help but inspire very real awe. I imagine seeing that reveal on an Imax screen and it is absolutely riveting. More so, entering into the hive itself, wit all those corridors woven from steel and flesh, leading into the pitfall trap full of the waiting, legitimately alien eggs illicit a feeling of primal terror. Those things are nothing like anything terrestrial. They are just familiar enough to inspire curiosity from the audience but uncanny enough to trigger apprehension. Absolutely brilliant but the true genius, the source of constant panic, belongs to the adult xenomorph, itself.

Big Chap, as the production team called it, was a miracle of effects work. The suit was custom built to fit the near seven foot frame of Bolaji Badejo but it was his physicality that lent an organic presence to the techno-organic monstrosity. That original Xenomorpgh was wildly terrifying to me. Even at my young age, i weathered Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and Jason Voorhees, with rather stoic aplomb but the Xenomorph sent me into a panic. I had legitimate nightmares about this thing which had never happened before. Giger had created a creature of such instinctual terror that you has no choice by to fear it and that sh*t is amazing.

I touched on how excellent Ellen Ripley was as a character, giving well deserved credit to Weaver’s portrayal but, like all classic characters in storytelling, Ripley began on the page. The writing for Alien is some of the best i have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Every character, every scene, every aspect, of this story is tight. Dan O’Bannon deserves all credit for this classic script. He wrote a story filled with characters and suspense, never identifying male of female unless absolutely necessary. I miss when films were films and not soapboxes for gender politics. It’s amazing how timeless and iconic characters can become when you’re not trying to push a goddamn agenda.

Now, O’Bannon’s script is excellent but it took a true visionary to bring it to life. Ridley Scott was that creative. Alien was Scott’s second directorial effort and he was able to craft a visual narrative far beyond what his tangible experience would dictate. Scott is a true visionary. The way he saw O’Bannon’s script was incredible. I mean, the vistas of the Derelict Ship, the sanitized halls of the Nostromo, that whole retro-futuristic look, the abject terror and repugnant reversal of sexuality with the Alien; All of that is Scott. O’Bannon gave this man one helluva blueprint but Scott built a goddamn monument of cinema in his own right.

The sound design in this film is absolutely classic. The hisses from the alien, the clacking of the computers, that harrowing voice from MOTHER during the adrenaline packed climax; Every sound, echo, pitch, and clank is perfectly administered to embellish the hellish visuals onscreen. I’ll never forget the first time seeing Brett’s death scene. The subtle sway of chains giving way to the impactful sound of those water droplets hitting his face, lulling you into a false sense of security, only to see the Xenomorph puncture his skull. That mixture of screams and rattling chains was haunting, brilliant use of sound for a horror set piece and testament to it’s voracity.

I spoke at length about Sigourney Weaver’s casting and performance but literally everyone is outstanding in this film. being an original script, not based on any existing media, you had an open template to create these characters. In a sense, casting for this type of project is even more tantamount than building a cinematic adaption of a novel or comic. This film is going to be known for these characters, for this world, going forward and Alien nailed this sh*t. Aside from Weaver’s star-turning performance as Ripley, John Hurt turned in a rather endearing outing as Kane, the first victim of the Xenomorpgh. Tom Skerritt was probably the biggest name in the film so everyone thoight that his character Dallas would be the lone survivor. Nope. Veronica Cartwright’s Lambert was woefully unraveled, specially during the Chestburster scene and Ian Holm’s Ash is easily unnerving his uncanny valley-esque performance. Harry Dean Stanton’s Brett was a man of few words but my second favorite performance in this entire film belongs to Yaphet Kotto. His portrayal as the aggressive, outspoken, incredibly loyal, Parker, endures to this day. These characters are all incredibly written and skillfully performed, bringing characters to life that will endure through time.

This movie came out in 1979, man! It is four decades old an can still give anything created today, even with out advances in effects work and film techniques, a run for it’s money. That is testament to the deft hand and expert precision in the construction of this movie. It’s rare that a film can be so timeless and it’s easily the first i have ever seen to capture that high mark. There are others like that; Jurassic Park, Twelve Angry Men, Jaws, The Godfather, To kill a Mockingbird, Star Wars, but even those classics show chinks in the armor. Not Alien. That Retro-futuristic design is absolutely timeless and fits in with any era of cinema.

The world Alien created was ripe for elaboration. The franchise, alone, produced three sequels; Each an amazing look at different film styles, directorial vision, and cinematic genre. Aliens is arguably one of the greatest sequels ever and has a completely different tone that the first. Some would ay it’ even better than the first. I wouldn’t but others do. There have been books, comics, games, and so much more based on this world. Alien: Isolation is easily the best game ever made based on the franchise and it stars that eleven-year-old daughter turned adult woman, Amanda Ripley, in a similar situation as her mother. Let me tell you, bad-assery must run in the family because Amanda was just as dope as her mom during her own gauntlet. And just like her ma’s adventure, Amanda’s outing stressed me out to no end. I loved the Earth War comic growing up and the introduction of Ripley 8 was something special. She was kind of ridiculous in the fourth film, Alien; resurrection but the comics did 8 much better justice. Speaking of artificial constructs, i would be remiss if i didn’t mention the absolutely charming android Xenomorph, Norbert, and his predecessor, Jeri, but my favorite hybrid is definitely Eloise. That’s not to mention the excellent stories with in the Aliens versus Predator mythos. I’m not going to get too heavy into that lore but you’d be hard-pressed to find a more amazing, female protagonist, outside of Ripley, than Machiko Noguchi; The human Japanese woman, blooded by the Elite Leader Yautja, Broken Tusk, given the title of Little Knife by the space-faring Predators. Ma is a f*cking machine and it’s a crime AvP ignored her story for what we eventually got in cinemas. Hell, there are even aspect of the Prometheus portion of this universe that i like, even though i don’t particularly like the film, itself. Elden is a dope character with a ton of potential for the overall lore going forward. There is so much excellent material in the Aliens expanded universe; Characters, concepts, worlds and more. The expansive nature and reverence for this universe rivals that of Star Wars, none of which could be possible without the inspired execution of the original Alien film.

The Verdict

What can i say? Alien is a goddamn masterpiece. From the second those titles slowly manifest to the exploration of LV-426, to the claustrophobic panic of the Nostromo, to Ripley’s triumphant yet uncertain fate in the end, i absolutely adore every aspect of this movie. Everything about this movie is deliberate and amazing. The performances are all excellent, everyone does an exceptional job. The set design is gorgeous and in the case of the alien hive within the Space Jockey’s ship, disgustingly beautiful. Giger’s art as perfect for this film but his design for Big Chap, the original Xenomorph design, was absolutely unnerving. The first time i saw it onscreen, i was both enthralled and horrified. To see the massive beast, in the few glimpses you got between some of the most excellent lighting ever captured on film, was incredible. There are shortcomings, sure, all films have them but i don’t believe them to be a negative. The pacing can be a little dragging at times but it’s absolutely necessary to build atmosphere. I thrive on slow burn films like The VVitch or Blade Runner 2049 and it was Alien that taught me patience in film can be a virtue. I cannot praise this film enough. For me, Alien is as close to perfect as can be. This easily gets my highest recommendation. If you’ve never seen Alien and appreciate sheer psychological terror, beautiful sets, brilliant direction, awe inspiring shots, and some of the best sound design ever captured on film, you’ll love this movie.

[innalterable]

[ park chaeyoung, 22 ] did you hear? there’s a new addition to the hypehens family! [ innalterable ] was starting to get known for [ speed paints, tutorials & supplies reviews ] and i think they will hit it big this time around as a part of the [ expresso ] squad at hypehens. [ kwang inna ] is known to be [ friendly & impulsive ] and enjoys [ collecting polaroids ]. with their vibes of [ singing horribly while taking a shower & enamel pins all over a denim jacket ] and a style that is unique, i think they are going to take the internet by storm!

hello everyone! i’m glad to introduce you to my daughter inna / danna! she’s a bit of a mess that only wants to spend the whole day in her home painting if possible. you can find her basics here, personality here, background here. if you're interested in plotting, you can find me in discord at internebula#6982!

without furher ado, here’s more about her: 

basic information

― full name: kwang inna ― nickname: nana ― age: twenty two ― date of birth: february 11th, 1998 ― birthplace: los angeles, california. ― current location: seoul, south korea ― ethnicity: asian ― nationality: (dual nationality) korean-american ― gender: cisfemale ― pronouns: she/her ― orientation: bisexual, demiromantic. ― religion: atheist ― occupation: content creator, freelance artist ― language(s) spoken: korean (fluent), english (fluent)

physical appearance

― faceclaim: park chaeyoung (rosé) of blackpink ― hair: naturally brown, currently dyed blonde. often put in messy buns, ponytails, french braids but also let loose with casual curls she gets from sleeping with her hair braided. ― eye colour: coffee brown ― height: 168cm ― weight: 45kg ― tattoos: four; the great wave off kanagawa on her right arm, flowery half sleeve on her left arm, moon arrow behind right ear and a matching triangle tattoo with her brother on her right inner forearm. ― piercings: lobe and upper lobe in both ears, anti-tragus on the left one, double helix on the right one. ― clothing style: high-waisted skirts, dresses that flow nicely with the wind, mom jeans that are a bit too long for her, graphic t-shirts she’s gotten from garage sales and thrift shops, oversized jackets she’s customized with either paint or enamel pins or patches, long coats that resemble those of classic detectives, her good ol’ dr. marteens in a variety of colors, knee and thigh high socks, athleisure outfits (consisting mainly of leggins and big sweatshirts), crop-tops, sling bags, whatever pair of sneakers she finds and matching bag or backpack.

headcanons

― born and raised in los angeles, her parents moved to usa right after they got married in their mid twenties only because of the feeling of adventure. they both got stable jobs there and even though her mom was the one that struggled the most with the different language, with the help of her husband she was able to improve steadily.

― ever since she was young, inna has showcased exceptional skills when it came to drawing and painting (if you consider the crayon scattered all over the walls of their apartment back in los angeles as art). always restless, she got easily bored with the common toys and games, only truly finding joy in the coloring books her parents always got her instead of dolls and an easy bake oven.

― she has always been heavily spoiled by every member of their family and inna grew used to this. it was no surprise that she always got what she wanted with a simple smile and her trademark grabby hands (she still does this till now and it’s absolutely gross). the one that spoiled her the most was her brother.

― inna holds dear every member of her family and despite being the ultimate spoiled princess, she always offered help around the house when she became older and realized that everyone had to do something for their household. she hated washing dishes though and always traded that task with her brother to the point that it became a natural thing for him to wash them and for her to mop and take the trash out. to this day, she will avoid washing dishes at any cost and her apartment often has a pile of dirty dishes which only makes it worse when she runs out of clean ones.

― the divorce of her parents hit her hard (spoiler alert: her father was awful when no one was seeing and cheated a lot on her mom, which she forgave every damn time until he crossed the line and brought another girl to their place) mainly because she didn’t understand what was happening at the moment and no one took their time to explain it to her. it was difficult to deal with her behaviour back then, she threw really loud tantrums and demanded to see her father almost daily and, whenever this didn’t happen, she’d go on a silent protest by not doing anything they asked her to. it’s years later that she understands everything (thanks to an argument she had with her brother for defending her dad and he just exploded). this, of course, greatly disappointed her and made her feel bad for still standing by her dad’s side.

― after that, inna just like her brother, closed a little to their father even though he was still as kind, loving and caring as ever with them despite everything. his attitude made her doubt her mother and brother several times, but then came the first girlfriend he ever introduced to them, and then the second… and so on.

― it was obvious that her mother drastically changed after the divorce and this scared inna a lot: letting someone in and become vulnerable with them only to have your heart broken sounded absolutely painful. and she didn’t want that. plus, her mom’s constant reminders of how she can’t trust anyone that its not her or her brother stayed deeply engraved within her.

― she’s never had a stable relationship, if anything, the longer she’s “gone out” with someone is a couple of weeks and after that, she ghosted them with no remorse. inna has had crushes in the past, but rarely ever actively pursues someone unless she’s really curious or interested to know more about them. nonetheless, she's a bit of a flirt and tends to get clingy and touchy when she's comfortable/close enough with someone.

― school is difficult in every stage for her, always getting rather mediocre grades in most of her classes except those that required a more creative and practical approach. simply put: she was bad at theoric classes and anything related to math and physics. though, inna was always close to failing but never did so. this was just one of the many reasons she didn’t want to pursue a college education.

― the creation of her channel is all thanks to her brother, her self-proclaimed number one fan and the one person that’s always encouraged her to keep going with her art. he suggested the idea and told her that they could do a testing video to see how comfortable she felt with it before uploading it. turns out, inna was more than okay with the camera for it focused on her hands and process the whole time. voice over was not necessary back then but as her channel evolved, so did the quality and content of her videos. steadily, she introduced different aspects of herself, starting with her voice by doing easy-to-follow tutorials and later on, her face was revealed when doing an art haul video. this helped her become more comfortable with the camera and now, every couple of weeks she posts vlogs of her visits to museums or events or just updates for her community.

― despite her popularity and some people even recognising her on the streets, inna has never considered herself to be a celebrity. in fact, she feels awkward with the title for she considers her channel to be just another one. she appreciates though whenever her prints get sold out or when someone asks for her autograph and a photo or even when she is invited to events as a special guest.

― the kind to get really excited when talking about things she likes. don’t get her started on her favorite medium or her favorite painting because she might go on for twenty seven minutes straight about how watercolors are the superior medium to work with.

― she likes experimenting with any and every medium out there, particularly enjoying art subscription boxes that always surprised her and push her out of her comfort zone. her specialization is landscapes and character design, though she’s recently learning to draw more animals and plants.

[looselucy]

Master of None

November 17th “Oi.” Harry gently nudged the side of my stomach with his foot. I was laying with my head at the foot of his bed, flat on my stomach, head resting on my arms, feeling rather sleepy. I’d been expecting an afternoon nap, but it seemed Harry had different ideas. “Mm?” “You wanna sit on my face?”

I immediately whipped my head over my shoulder to look at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. The left hand side of his lips were raised, back propped against the wall behind him, awaiting my answer and looking the complete opposite of coy whilst doing so. “I’m sorry?” I gawped. “You heard.” “Do… Do you want me to?” “Definitely.” I don’t know why I was so surprised, really. Maybe it was down to his blunt delivery, or the fact that Sam had never been too keen on oral; it seemed to be one of those things that was expected from women but a blessing from men. It certainly felt like a blessing then. “Holy shit. You’re dreamy, Harry Styles.” “Is that a yes?” I answered by practically jumping up from my spot, going back to him to straddle his waist and kiss him eagerly, the two of us already nude, which I was thankful for. We’d been like this all week. It felt like I’d practically moved into his place, it was verging on ridiculous. I’d been tempted to say we should have a break, just for a couple of days, but then he’d say something like that and I’d never want to leave his fucking house again. I’d also realised the other day that Harry seemed to know the limit where I didn’t. I thought he’d call a break if he felt it necessary. That Wednesday, I had stormed into our one on one class with one thing my mind, shutting the door and rushing over to kiss him, hot and ready. “Hey,” He had gasped against my lips, slowly taking my hips into his hands and pushing me away delicately. “Hey hey hey, chill out.” “What?” I’d groaned. “C’mon. We’re here for a reason, right? We’ll do that later.” “Or we could do it now.” “That’s not the point of these classes.” He’d told me confidently. “You’re gorgeous, Alf, and any other time, I’m yours. But I still have a job to do here, and that’s to make you strong. To make you feel safe. M’not gunna stop that now. What we do here, it’s important. It needs to stay platonic, okay? As… much as possible.” As much as there was a part of me that had been frustrated by that, at the same time I couldn’t be. He was right, we needed to focus on the real reason I was there having those lessons in the first place, and I liked that he wasn’t letting his dick get the better of him. We’d gotten carried away in that environment once, but that was before we knew we could have each other, almost like he’d grabbed the chance whilst it was there, maybe thinking it was his one opportunity and he had to take it. He knew we couldn’t make a habit of that. He was continuing to surprise me. The class had played out as it normally did, he’d challenged me and taught me and helped me to feel better, and just before the rest of the women arrived, he’d kissed me. It was ideal. So that was what had become of my days. I’d work, I’d nip home, and then I’d go to his. Unless we were at the pub or they had another football game, it was always us, usually at his house and occasionally at mine. We were due to go to the pub that night, but we had a few hours to kill before we were meeting everyone, and I really liked how Harry had suggested to pass the time away. His kissed down my body as he slid slowly down the bed, right down my chest and stomach until he was flat, his palms brushing over then holding onto my hips. My chest already felt tight; in fact, my whole body felt weak, simply because I knew what he was about to do to me. In a strange way, I was nervous. The position I was in almost felt like a vulnerable one, but I knew he’d make me feel at ease as much as he could. I could feel his breath against me, a sign of how eager he was, drawn out and yet quick all at the same time. He nudged upwards slightly, the very tip of his nose teasing my clit, my stomach already twirling, a light curse curling across my lips. “Come to me.” He demanded quietly. Closing my eyes, I gradually lowered myself, leaving little room for air and feeling his mouth on me instantly, his perfect lips imprinting my most sensitive area. He was slow, his hands caressing my skin, his actions so delicate but commanding, the way his mouth moved and jaw clicked utterly dreamlike. Heat tore through my body in waves, woozy within seconds, feeling him fuck his tongue into me like I was the one thing he ever wanted to taste. I could sense my balance tipping, reaching down to find his hands on my hips, placing mine atop his in an attempt to steady myself, find some form of centre. I could faintly feel his scars beneath my palms, the anomalous rise and fall of his skin, noticeably worse on his left hand than his right. He repositioned our hands rather rapidly, entwining our digits and gripping tight. His mouth moved slowly, sensual, so drawn out that I could track every single movement he made, each curve of his lips and flick of his tongue its own force to be reckoned with. He created an inordinate sensation inside my body that had never existed before. “You’re too good.” I panted. “Oh fuck. Fuck.” My hips moved, reacting to the pleasure he gave, looking down and finally opening my eyes to see him, and he looked so fucking into it that my rapture increased. His eyes were closed, his skin looking soft, glowing; stunningly beautiful. What I’d found about Harry was that his beauty didn’t seem to tire or become regular, it augmented. Every time I was with him, I noticed it more, different features or characteristics that not just reminded me of his attractiveness, but reinforced it, like it was a lesson to be learnt and understood. I held onto his hands tighter, whimpering when he moaned against me, sucking my crux, his vocal satisfaction so heavy it worked as a vibration and took the experience to a completely new level. I had still yet to become accustom with how good he was, or at least how good we were together. There was a link, straight from my body to his that made each sexual interaction absolutely mind blowing. I didn’t doubt for a second that we could be great with other people, but I knew that something special happened when it was both of us. I had to remind myself to breathe, keeping my eyes trained on him, my grip on his hands tight, immersed in the way he looked as he ate me out with passion and poise. I could feel myself waning, weary and blissed out. His actions were relentless, not pausing or tempering for even a moment. “Har... Harry, I-I can’t.” I was trembling, the responses of my stomach so unfamiliar I hardly knew how manage it. Then, he opened his eyes, his lids bolting upwards so he was looking directly at me, flattening his tongue and tilting his head back so that it ran over me completely, his features slowly revealing themselves until I got to see the striking glisten around his mouth. I was done. With one final, loud moan, my stomach untangled and my orgasm hit, flowing from my body and seeming to drag every bit of energy and equilibrium with it. I lolled my head back, shocked into stillness for a while, my stamina fucking draining from me. I was exhausted. I let go of his hands and fell backwards, landing uncomfortably on his legs before rolling onto the bed, flopping onto my stomach, feeling as though I was almost close to tears. He’d fucked the life out of me with his mouth alone. I could just about hear him shuffling, moving about behind me, but I didn’t have the capacity to look, having a few moments that I wished were hours where my mind was too blank and body too weak to concentrate on anything. The only thing that introduced the smallest bit of life to me was the way my ears pricked, hearing the unmistakeable sound of him tearing into a condom. All too soon his hands were back on my hips, hauling me back to him, on my knees with my head still on the mattress. “Harry, I… I don’t think I can. You’ve killed me.” He snapped his body over mine, kissing all the way up my spine until his lips were beside my ear, whispering. “I promise, m’not gunna last long. I’m so turned on, I won’t fucking last. Please. Please.” Breathless, I nodded, widening my legs for him, wanting to return the favour, grateful he wouldn’t last long and yet also a little eager for what he was about to do. It was a bizarre feeling. He kissed my neck, a way of thanking me, and then he moved back, lining himself and pushing into me with speed, releasing a beautiful bleat of relief as soon as he was inside, already quite obvious that it wasn’t going to last long. I liked that about Harry. Giving pleasure was all part of it for him. He wasn’t just waiting to get some attention himself, being selfish, because giving was his way of receiving, and the more I picked up on all these things, the more grateful I became for the way I’d gone back to our arrangement despite my initial reservations. His thrusts were vicious, each one accompanied by beautiful sounds of sweet fulfilment, one hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gathering it all and pulling it back, forcing my gaze upwards, and then he was done. As quickly as he’d promised, it was over, his body as weak as mine had been, groaning as he fell down to me, quickly kissing my back once again. “Holy shit.” He breathed restlessly. “Told ya.” I was giggling when he fell to his side of the bed, the two of us completely collapsing, me with my face in the sheets and Harry gazing up to the ceiling, taking our time to recover from the experience. I figured we’d spend a good while in silence. Usually after such a vigorous workout, we’d have our time, cooling down, wallowing in the empty space and silence of our comedowns, but something happened that meant that this time, that wasn’t an option. “Shit.” I heard him, opening one eye and seeing the panic in his eyes. “Shit. What the fuck?” “What?” I creaked. “The condom broke.” “What?” “The fucking condoms broke, Alfie. What the fuck?” He shot upright. “Shit. What should we do? Holy shit.” “Harry, calm down.” I huffed, closing my eyes again, shaking my head. “What should we do? Do we… Do we need to get the morning after pill? Does it cost? Do you need money?” “Don’t worry about it.” “I’m sorry, I… I can’t help it! We need to be safe. For fuck sake, Alfie, we need to-” “I can’t have kids.” I opened my eyes and said bluntly, which finally shut him up. His face dropped, silent for a few moments, taking in what I’d just told him, though I wasn’t sure it quite went in the first time. “What?” He gasped quietly. “I can’t have children. So honestly, don’t worry about it. No need to panic, because… I literally couldn’t get pregnant if I tried, so… lay back down. Relax.” He did as I’d instructed, laying down beside me, but keeping his eyes on me, with this look on his face that was somewhere between utter shock and feeling sorry for me. I closed my eyes again, blocking that look from my vision. It was a look I’d seen before, one I’d grown tired of. “Is it… Is it like… slim chance, or no chance at all?” He asked. “No chance. My ovary is fucked, basically. The doctors told me it was my tubes... Something… I dunno, it was years ago when I found out. I was born with an abnormality, and I’d have to have major surgery to even stand a chance. It’s not really an option for me.” “Shit. I’m sorry.” He spoke softly. “Don’t be. I mean… even when they told me, I wasn’t upset.” I opened my eyes to address him properly. “I’ve never… had that desire in me, y’know? That thing that made me crave having a baby. It’s not really something I want from my life, so I’ve always been okay with it.” He nodded, still seeming solemn, but like he understood at least. The only thing that had ever bothered me about it was the thought of my future with someone else. I think that was one of the other reasons I’d stayed with Sam for so long, because I knew he was okay with it. He was the same as me, he didn’t see children in his future, so it was okay! But I hated the thought of falling for someone and getting serious and them distancing because they wanted a family and I didn’t. Other than that, it had never really meant anything to me. I knew I didn’t need that to be fulfilled and happy with my life. “I know what you mean. Doesn’t appeal to me either, to be honest.” Harry admitted, sharing one of the few very personal things I knew about him. “Really?” “Nah. I think… families are complicated. Too complicated. I don’t think kids are everyone’s happy ending, and that’s okay. It shouldn’t be so expected of people.” “I agree.” I didn’t know whether he was saying that thinking he was making me feel better, like he thought on some level it really did bother me, but he seemed honest enough. I think maybe I was just surprised by such honesty from him, such a revealing statement. I felt like I’d learnt more about Harry in the last minute than I had in the last few months of knowing him. “Shit. That got deep quick.” I joked after we’d been quiet for a while. “Yeah, pretty much.” He chuckled with me, looking back to the ceiling. “So there’s no need to worry about the condom. Also, I vote we both get checked out, and once we see we’re both clean, we fuck the condoms off completely. I’m on the injection anyway to stop my periods, and I fucking hate condoms.” “I do too. Yeah, deal.” We shook hands haphazardly. “We’re always on the same page, me and you. It’s good.” “It’s working well, innit?” I grinned. “It’s working very well. Even better than I expected. I’m thriving.” He leered. It did seem perfect. I’d expected problems to arise almost instantaneously, but we’d yet to face any. There were no suspicions, nothing was too complicated, it was all going so bloody smoothly. The sound of a phone ringing burst our bubble, Harry quickly recognising it as his own, leaning down off the side of the bed to retrieve it. He went still for a while, staring at the name of whoever was calling him, like he’d frozen. I moved, sitting myself up, Harry staring for so long that he missed the call completely. “Everything alright?” “Uh… Sorry, I need to call them back.” He began to clamber off the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute.” “Okay.” I watched him as he walked out of the room, holding the phone to his ear and storming off to the far end of the corridor, out of earshot, soon talking quietly to ensure I couldn’t hear a word, looking rather miserable from what I could see. I lay back down, granting him the privacy he so clearly desired, but questioning who was on the other end. It wasn’t only down to the way he’d reacted to the call, but the call itself. I’d never seen him take a call in all our time together, I didn’t know of him really having other contacts, people from his past, friends or family; it seemed he’d come to Rosebury and built his existence around our village and us, and everything before that was forgotten. It seemed to me, that Harry was on the phone to his history, or some form of it. And he didn’t seem happy about it.

“I am getting wrecked tonight.” Niall sighed. I could tell everyone wanted to make a night of it, because we’d found ourselves in The Royal Rose, and karaoke was on the cards. We’d only been there around an hour, none of us quite drunk enough to take the stage quite yet, except maybe Lincoln, who had already been and searched through the songbook a total of six times, meaning it wouldn’t be too long. There was a very drunk man already up at the front singing a rather painful rendition of Bat Out of Hell, giving it his all whilst simultaneously looking as though he could nod off at any moment. “I’ve never noticed how long this song is before.” Louis grated, the two of us leaning back against the bar. “Like, I knew it was long, but fucking hell.” “I think he’s doing a beautiful job.” I quipped. “He’s murdering it in his own special way, isn’t he?” He smiled, taking a speedy sip of his pint. Lincoln bounced over us, clearly very excited, clapping his hands together and landing directly in front of us with a thud. “Right, that’s it, I’ve decided… I’m gunna sing Penny Arcade by Roy Orbison. That’s it. That’s the one. Oh my god, it’s gunna be great.” “Great choice!” I beamed. “Terrible choice!” Louis disagreed. “Lincoln, that is one of his worst. He had so many great songs and you’re gunna go with Penny Arcade?” “It’s an anthem.” Lin folded his arm, unimpressed. “It’s not.” After giving Louis a quick middle finger, he ran off to make his request, darting around tables like a madman. “I love that boy.” I cooed. The door opened, myself and Louis turning our heads instinctively, seeing that Harry had finally arrived. With how late he’d been, and the odd call he’d taken earlier in the day, I’d half expected him not to show up. It wasn’t long after the call that I’d left Harry’s home, sensing his low mood and allowing him space. He wasn’t on the phone for long, but whatever had been discussed had changed his mood rather greatly. I’d pretended it wasn’t something I’d picked up on, and left as casually as I could. It genuinely surprised me to see him. I smiled as he headed towards us, hands dug into his pockets, clearly still not quite himself. “Time d’ya call this?” Louis grinned. “Sorry.” Harry apologised sweetly, asking for a pint as soon as he’d got to the bar. “As punishment, you’re up next on karaoke.” Niall stepped into the conversation, Chloe and Libby sat on one of the tables just in front of us, Lin still excitedly talking to the DJ. “I don’t think so.” Harry snorted. “C’mon, you’re Harry Styles, jack of all trades, good at everything, best looking lad in Rosebury-” “Rude.” Louis huffed. “Defender of women and man after my heart. I bet good money you can sing.” “Jack of all trades, master of none.” Harry shrugged, then going to pay for his drink. “Fine, alright, you’ve pulled my leg, we’ll do a duet.” Niall sighed. “I think we could take on Islands in the Stream. Sound good to you?” “It’s not happening.” “I’ll go request it, darling. Don’t worry, you stay here and enjoy your pint. Warm up them vocal chords.” He winked, already on his way to make the request. “Niall!” Harry yelled, being ignored. “NIALL!” “Sorry, mate.” Louis sniggered. “Looks like you’re Kenny Rogers for the evening.” “What? I don’t even get to be Dolly?” He whined. “Niall is always Dolly.” I huffed. We’d all had to sing Islands in the Stream with Niall at some point, so if anything, Harry should have seen it as an honour; it was like his true initiation into the group. But usually, such a duet would take place at someone’s home or in the streets at a ridiculous hour, drunk out of our minds. Harry was sober and he had an audience, which made his proper welcoming to our team a difficult one. Harry paid for his drink, not looking too enthralled by his current situation, but at the same time, I could already see that it had cheered him up, his attempts to force the smile off his lips rather weak. Chloe and Libby got up to join the conversation fully, Chloe standing at my side whilst Libby immediately started poking fun at Harry for his upcoming karaoke session. “I hear you’re taking on Islands in the Stream?” She sniggered. “Apparently, but I don’t want to! I’m kinda… musically inept.” He carped. “Are you fuck.” I sniggered. “And how the hell would you know, Alfie Hunter?” He raised a brow. “Because-” I stopped myself just in time. I was about to go on a rant, how I’d seen the piano in his dining room, the worn down acoustic guitar in his spare room; I was about to say all that out loud to a group of people who knew Harry was private about his home and we wouldn’t be invited around any time soon. Thankfully, I caught on, shutting myself up for a few seconds before changing the course of my sentence. “You… You’re just one of those annoying people, I can tell. One of those dickheads who’s good at everything.” “Not true.” He fought. “Totally true. You’re gunna get up there and sing and you’re gunna be good, I can see it coming.” “You’ve got a nice voice.” Libby said. “Even the way you talk is nice.” “AND,” Niall joined the conversation again, likely having made the request and doomed Harry to a duet. “The face of a Greek god.” “Fucking hell, just got everything going for ya, don’t ya?” Louis confounded. “Got everyone bloody drooling.” “Are you jealous, Louis?” Chloe leaned into his ear. “Nah, I’m just saying, it’d probably be easier if you all to just got on your knees and kissed his arse.” “With pleasure.” Niall played. We were all laughing, including Harry, and I got so much pleasure seeing how happy we were making him, how much he was cheering up. It reminded me once again that Harry had moved somewhere and actually managed to find and make real friends, finally. We’d become this unit of people who could pick him up when he was down and I loved that, I loved that we could give him that, show him what it was like to have a real network of people around him who could make him laugh, people who cared about him, wanted the best for him. I couldn’t imagine what it was like, to have gone so long without that, but I truly hoped that he could see he’d found that in us, and he’d cherish it. “Testing, testing, one two.” We heard Lincoln’s voice from the front of the room, each of us turning to cheer him on. He was waving at us like a fucking child who’d just been dragged up onstage at a pantomime as the DJ introduced him and the song he’d chosen, all of us screaming and hollering like his bloody groupies as soon as the track started. “A light shone in the night some way ahead…” He began, adding in his own movements to accompany the song. Libby, Niall and Chloe started dancing together gleefully, myself, Louis and Harry still leaning against the bar, Harry a little dumbfounded. “Holy shit, he’s really into this, isn’t he?” He gawped as Lincoln performed a rather dramatic air grab. “Yeah, he takes it pretty seriously.” Louis laughed. “I love it. I could watch him do this all night.” I commented. “If it was just Lincoln doing song after song, I’d love it.” “The light I saw in the night was the penny arcade. COME ON!” We all joined in for the chorus. “Step up and play each machine seemed to say, as I walked round and round the penny arcade.” I pushed forward to dance and jump around with the other three idiots, loudly singing along and giving it our all. Louis and Harry remained up against the bar, too cool or sober to join in with us, clapping along and taking in what I imagined was a beautiful sight, the four of us flouncing around like fools with Lin at the front of the room spinning around as he sang. “Just ring the bell on the big bagatelle and you'll make all those coloured lights cascade. And music played, at the penny arcade. Yes it played and it played, played all the time, ROLL UP AND SPEND YOUR LAST DIME!” I felt so bloody happy, surrounded by my favourite people, being silly. The last time we’d gone to karaoke night, I’d still been with Sam, and I remembered we’d gotten into an argument before Lin was even drunk enough to take the stage. It felt nice to be there and to feel weightless, finally. I was so happy. The antics continued throughout the song, the lot of us shooting some life into the place, almost disappointed when it was over. We gave him a well-deserved round of applause, to which he bowed, followed by a quick curtsy, and then he was running back to us, everyone gathering around him excitedly. With no warning, Harry took my jumper between his fingers, dragging me back to him, out of the crowd, my back slamming against his stomach. He leaned down, whispering in my ear. “I’m staying at yours tonight, yeah?” I turned around to face him, creating a little distance so if anyone was to turn around and look, our conversation wouldn’t look suspicious. “Yeah, if you want.” “I want.” His eyes stalked up and down me, pulling me back to him. “Need another taste.” “Shh!” I cried as quietly as I could. “Someone’ll hear you!” “Wanna have you sat on me again. Grinding. Wanna feel you cum on my lips.” I pushed at his chest, stomach twisting, just in time before Niall leapt towards Harry, who was looking so frustratingly innocent, no one could ever guess at the filth he’d just been sharing with me. “C’mon, Styles, we’re up.” “Do I really have to?” He tried to protest one last time. “You really have to.” Niall took Harry’s hand and yanked him out of his place, pulling him to the front of the room so they could sing together, leaving me still feeling a little woozy. I certainly didn’t want to wish my evening away, not when I was having so much fun, but fuck, I really wanted to take him home. I tried to snap out of it as the DJ presented the two of them, stumbling back towards the team who were eagerly awaiting what was bound to be an interesting rendition. The music began, Niall stepping from side to side as Harry awkwardly lifted the microphone to his lips, eyes fixed on the screen, genuinely looking restless and anxious. He needn’t have been “Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown, I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb, I was soft inside, there was somethin' going on.” His voice, as we’d predicted, was lovely. Soft, gravely, deep, beautiful. We’d been expecting it, but then at the same time it felt bloody ridiculous, that it really was another thing Harry could add to his list, another talent, another way in which he was absolutely brilliant. “Oh fucking hell, he really can sing!” Louis blurted as the song continued. “I bet he’s got a big dick as well, it’s an absolute joke this.” I laughed loudly, hanging my arm around his shoulders and giving him a little squeeze before we started swaying from side to side, enjoying that for the first time, Niall was finally singing Islands in the Stream with someone who could actually harmonise with him. I never confirmed Louis’ suspicions, despite being fully aware of just how accurate his statement was.

[inyournightmares97]

TOMORROW TODAY SERIES (Masterlist)

Jinyoung Ver. (Part 1)  (Part 2)  (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (End)

Word Count: 2.4k+

Warnings: Strong language, discussions of prostitution, sex and other sensitive topics. Don’t read if shaky consent to sexual activities triggers you.

Summary: A road trip to your hometown results in a number of unexpected setbacks. Hopes and fears are revealed, while Jinyoung and Jaebum help you understand that life is difficult for everyone, and nobody ever really knows what they’re doing.

The silence in the room was unbelievably loud. You could only hear the thumping of your own heart. The sound of Jaebum’s soft snoring from across the room and Jinyoung’s gentle breathing beside you were inaudible to your thundering ears.

Jinyoung’s question had sent a sharp jolt through you. Why are we keeping secrets from each other? It took you a few seconds to overcome your own guilt and realize that Jinyoung had phrased it that way intentionally. It wasn’t why are you keeping secrets from me. He wanted to know why you were keeping secrets from each other, which meant that you weren’t the only one who had been hiding things.

“I’ll go first,” you whispered.

Jinyoung turned to look at you, wide eyes watching you calmly. You both loved and hated sharing your feelings with Jinyoung. He always gave you an intense look; the sort of look that made it clear that his entire attention was on you, and that he was hanging on to every word you said. But he never reacted. His expressions rarely betrayed whether he was surprised, or upset or angry. There was no way of knowing what Jinyoung thought about what you were saying, until you finished speaking and asked him what he thought.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he told you softly, when you remained silent. “I’m listening.”

“Money become… tight in college,” you admitted quietly, feeling a bit of shame. You never liked talking about not having money. Being poor was something you kept quiet about in Seoul, like some dirty disability. It affected everything; the friends you made, the people you hung out with… it was all determined by the amount of money you had. “I tried talking to my parents about it, but they wouldn’t really understand. They just sent me the bare minimum I needed to get by, but there are so many other things you need in a city like Seoul…”

Jinyoung nodded. He knew your parents. Spend only what’s absolutely necessary. They had lived their entire lives in a conservative village, so the casual spending culture of the urban cities was strange to them.

“I tried getting other jobs,” you whispered almost desperately. For some reason, you felt the need to justify yourself. You had denied Jaebum all explanations, telling him that your life was none of his business… but Jinyoung was different. You needed him to know that you had tried everything possible, needed him to understand that this was the only route available to you. “But none of them lasted. It was all minimum wage, and they took up so much of my time that I was left too exhausted to study and my academics started falling behind. My parents got my exam results last semester and they were mad, they said we sent you to Seoul to study, so why can’t you even do that and told me I had to quit the jobs or I was coming straight back home to help with the farms.”

Jinyoung sighed. He was only too used to hearing the regular threats that your parents made, saying they would drag you back to your hometown if you did something out of line. “So?” he whispered. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you call Jaebum-hyung?”

You stared at him. “What could either of you have done?”

Jinyoung blinked. “I don’t know. I would have tried to help-“

You shook your head, tears spilling out of your eyes. That’s what everyone said. Why didn’t you come to me? As if anyone would have done anything. “I didn’t want help or moral support,” you explained firmly. “I wanted money. It’s not like I was going to splurge on luxury clothes or live some kind of high life. I just wanted to be able to go out with my friends without having to constantly eye the bill. I wanted to not have to beg them to go to cheaper places just for me. I wanted to be able to go the club without having to calculate how much tax there is on each drink, is that too selfish?”

Jinyoung bit his lip and stayed silent. He didn’t know how to respond. True, he had been in a tight financial situation since he joined college too, but it was different from yours. Jaebum worked a full-time job and he was always willing to send him money. You didn’t have anyone to support you that way.  

You took a deep breath and shuddered. “My friend’s roommate was the one who told me about it. She’d been in the business for about a year already, and she told me about her agency. She said that they handed everything professionally, and they even treated college girls really well because they were looking for intelligent girls in particular and…”

Jinyoung blinked at you. “Agency,” he repeated softly.

You felt sick. “Yeah, it’s… it’s an escort agency.”

“I figured.”

“So I… I went and met them and they seemed really professional about it all,” you whispered. Jinyoung wasn’t saying anything, he was only staring at you. “They assured me of confidentiality, and they said I could clarify what I was okay with and what I wasn’t okay with beforehand, and that they would communicate all of that to the… the client. It all seemed really safe, I took all sorts of precautions, Jinyoung. I swear I didn’t just walk in there like an idiot. I even had pepper spray and a knife on me when I went to meet the first guy.”

Jinyoung was staring at you with large eyes. His lips were pressed together tightly and you could see how worried he looked; the idea that you had been doing these things without his knowledge terrified him. Had you seriously been going to hotel rooms with complete strangers, without any regard for your safety? What the hell was pepper spray going to do in the face of a man who might want to hurt you? He opened and closed his mouth and then took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“And the money was really good,” you admitted quietly. “The first guy didn’t even ask me to have…. to have sex with him. He just took me to some party as arm candy and once he got drunk enough, he got wrapped up talking to his business associates and he sent me home in a cab. But I got my cheque through the agency and it just… it seemed like such a small price to pay for so much comfort? I didn’t have to think a hundred times before I bought something. I could go wherever my friends wanted to go. And it only took one evening. I no longer had to work long, painful hours for minimum wage.”

“How did Jaebum-hyung find out?”

You bit your lip. “One of my clients turned out to be a higher-up at Jaebum-oppa’s company. He saw me leaving with him at a social event and figured it out. Apparently the man had a reputation for bringing escorts around everywhere. Jaebum-oppa lost it the next day. He called me and screamed at me, said he was going to go the agency and force them to fire me. It took a long time to calm him down… that’s why things have been so tense between me and him. I’ve been avoiding him for months. He just won’t understand that it’s my life and my body to do whatever I want with.”

Jinyoung looked at you calmly. “You were a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing this was coming. “Virginity. What is that even? It seems like such a pointless thing to treasure. Does it matter whether you’ve had sex or not? Would anybody ever know unless you told them? I don’t know why this is something so dirty. There are men with primal urges who can’t find anybody to satisfy them and I’m doing it, for a price. Half of these guys aren’t as dangerous and rough as they’re made out to be, Jinyoung. One of my clients was a virgin himself, he was trembling the entire night.”

“These are men that are trying to pay for sex-“

You cut him off. “So? What’s the alternative? Men will do anything to get sex. Aren’t the ones who are willing to pay for it still infinitely better than the scum that try to rape women or sexually harass them without their consent?” you demanded. You ran your hand down your face and sighed, trying to calm down. “I know what’s bothering you, Jinyoung. Prostitution is a horrible thing. Most girls are roped into it at a young age, in terrible conditions and without the slightest idea what they’re being made to do. It’s awful. But I’m not like that. I’m making an informed decision, I’ve taken all the precautions for my safety.”

Something flickered in Jinyoung’s eyes.

“What?” you demanded. “You don’t believe me?”

“I think this is a decision you’re going to regret,” he whispered. Jinyoung took a deep, shaky breath as he sat up. He tried to look you in the eyes. “Do you want to know why I think that?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t… honestly, I don’t like the thought of you meeting strange guys in hotel rooms. You’re putting yourself in an extremely vulnerable position around men that are more powerful than you, and it would take them half a second to hurt you. You know that, right? He could make a sex tape and blackmail you with it, he could drug you, he could kidnap you, he could hurt you because you are the vulnerable one in the situation. Sure, these things could happen to you even if you weren’t in this business but you have to see that the risk is insane,” Jinyoung said firmly.

You nodded silently. “I know, but most of these are rich guys with reputations and sometimes, wives. They have a lot to lose; honestly, my keeping quiet is one of the most important things to them. They’re not likely to blackmail me with sex tapes when they have more to lose.”

“You could get pregnant. You could come down with a disease-“

“I’m taking precautions against those things, I’m not an idiot!”

“But it’s not even any of that,” Jinyoung said firmly. “All those things might or might not happen, but I’m going to tell you what is going to happen. You’re not going to be able to get out of this business.”

You stared at him. “Jinyoung-“

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? This is a shortcut to life. You’re doing this because it’s easier than having to work long hours for minimum wage. Can you go back to the long route once you’ve gotten used to taking the shortcut? Think for a second and tell me whether you really think you’ll be able to work in an office, five days a week for long hours just to get a monthly salary… when you know that you could make the same amount in a single night by letting a guy fuck you? Isn’t that where you’re heading?”

You had no answer to that.

“There’s a reason people keep committing crimes, and it’s not always for the thrill. It’s because once you’ve discovered a shortcut in life, it’s impossible to convince yourself that you still need to ignore it and take the longer and harder route. How long are you going to last in this industry? Another five years? Ten? It’s a sex industry, your value will drop the older you get. Then what? What about when you’re no longer considered attractive by these sleazy men? What will you do then? Your life is going to spiral out of control. You can’t make a decision without thinking about what lies in the future for you.”

You looked up at Jinyoung. His tone was soft, but his words were harsh and you knew that he was being perfectly honest. Jinyoung never sugarcoated things in situations like this. “Nobody can ever know what happens in the future,” you mumbled. “You said it yourself, you don’t know what lies at the end of the path that you’re taking. I could quit the agency once I graduate. I could get a decent job and nobody would ever know how I put myself through college. You don’t know what’s in store for me.”

“There are always things that are beyond your control, sure, but there are also a shit load of things that are in your control. Just because the world is unpredictable doesn’t mean that you can do whatever the hell you want and expect that things might turn out okay. Don’t be that stupid.”

You felt tears brimming in your eyes. “You don’t think I’m responsible enough to handle my own life?”

Jinyoung looked at you quietly. “I never said that. I’m saying that you’re being shortsighted about your decisions. We all have a blind spot when it comes to our own lives. Sometimes we need somebody else to come in and look at it from a neutral perspective, tell us what we couldn’t see from our point of view.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell anyone that you dropped out of college?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened as he stared at you. Your words had shocked him, and you almost regretted spitting them out in such a harsh manner. It wasn’t his fault that he was being straight with you; you had expected no less from Jinyoung. But his constant attacking of your life choices had made you sensitive, and you suddenly felt the need to point out to him that he wasn’t the most rational decision-maker either. But Jinyoung’s face fell and his voice became quiet.

“How did you…?”

“I figured,” you mumbled. “It’s funny that you can sit here and tell me about taking the hard path when you couldn’t handle it either, Park Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung gave you a small, regretful smile. “I guess I’m a hypocrite, huh?”

You took a deep breath and leaned back against the pillow. Your heartbeat was thudding as you gave him a small smile in return. You felt exposed and part of you was wondering whether you shouldn’t have told Jinyoung everything. Yet there was a sense of relief… at least you weren’t hiding it anymore, at least now all your demons were out in the open. The worst was over for you, and you closed your eyes quietly.

“I think we’re all hypocrites, aren’t we? Tell me what happened.”

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A/N: This was going to be much longer, but I figured I would separate all the discussions on prostitution into a separate chapter since it might be sensitive to some people and they may want to skip it.

I’m sorry that updates are so slow and taking so long, I’ll try to make them faster. Feel free to send me your thoughts and opinions!

2 more parts to the Jinyoung Ver.!

[celestialvexation-arch]

Opia

for @meradorm because i wanted to and i love tolerate you. enjoy uvu~! 

    “Excuse me? Is everything alright?”       You blinked out of your daze, staring up to meet with brown eyes of an android that held an inquisitive shine in them ( Is he doing an internal scan of yourself? A subtle check upon your features to determine the emotion at hand? ). A quick glance at the LED chip showed a loading yellow, confirming your assumption. “Yeah,” you easily answered, brushing off his concerns with a slow exhale. “I mean, as anyone who found the body of a recent murder could be...” You smiled crookedly, a rather piss poor attempt to elicit humor, however dark it was.      The lack of reaction regarding it only made it awkward so you cleared your throat, fighting back an embarrassing flush of your face. How goddamn humiliating. “So, you got any clues on who done it or...?” 

     “We have reason to believe that the deviant has returned to the scene of the crime not too long ago,” he replied as smoothly as marble, the words sounding easy on the tongue. “The body's position has been disturbed at some point, possibly to rid of any additional evidence of its identity or some other reason. We are now asking for any potential witnesses for any odd sights or strange behavior from others.” As he spoke, you couldn’t help but be transfixed by his ever so constant gaze into your eyes. 

     The strangest aspect concerning it is that it didn’t necessarily feel...uncomfortable as you would expect when someone is staring directly at you. It wasn’t exactly leering though you would think that he is merely attempting to detect any abnormal behavior such as deceit or signs of discomfort. Perhaps it’s part of the training all detectives and law enforcement must go through to accomplish a task but still... You can’t help the feeling of added effort within it. Strange. You’ve never enjoyed the very obvious attempt from others trying to assume details of yourself, trying to expose something that not even you know of and it often elicits an emotion that’s bordering between anger and humiliation.       “Right...” you hummed out, finally tearing your gaze away to stare at the police surrounding the scene before them. Okay, this should be easy since you obviously had no hand in the crime itself and it would be understandable in being shaken at the whole thing. And thankfully, that all came into play as this android -- RK800 is the supposed serial number but you didn’t think in regarding him as that -- questioned you, mostly shaking your head at the basic questions such as “Have you noticed any android activity that seems unusual to you?” or “Have you seen anyone, be they human or android,  behaving oddly?”       At first, he didn’t appear all that disappointed with the lack of leads but you did catch a glimmer of something in those dark brown eyes. They appeared too...bright -- as in being aware of something that he isn’t quite used to. “Very well. It may not be much but every little clue is helpful,” he announced, posture straight and alert. You can’t help but admire how committed he is; of course, you expect all androids to be as such, especially regarding this line of work. However, thoughts of unknown origins began to surface.      You started to wonder just how he is when he isn’t...this. When he is relaxed for once and within a serene environment that provided a break from not only the frustrating dead ends of crimes but also the hostile greetings from others.      ‘Is his skin soft as those eyes then?’ you thought, dazed once again as your mind wandered off the path of decency and into one of--      “--if that’s fine with you?”       A curse tumbled out as you rubbed at your face, lifting your gaze up with a sigh. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” you mumbled almost in embarrassment. Luckily, the android didn’t appear bothered by your disregarding of attention though his head did cant to the side ( ‘Ah, like a damn puppy,’ you thought to yourself for a split second ). “I asked if it’s alright if we are to meet again for another interview? You seem shaken by the events at hand so it would be beneficial if you acquired rest to lower your stress so you may be in a better state of mind.”      ...Holy shit, how did you miss all that? Did you seriously blanked out for that long?       “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m a bit disoriented today, anyway. Been a long day and all...” He nodded in acknowledgement, his head turning to a much older man who was calling for him. “Connor, c’mon! Gotta head back to the station for now!” Connor... So that was his name. It sounded...right, to you. Connor turned back to you with a nod in farewell, repeating his offer in a similar statement before leaving to leave with the other gentleman.      You observed him walking away with the man, watching how the android move rather fluidly yet casual. Warmth started to spread from your chest but you hardly consider it as anything...affectionate or tender. It was more of anticipation and it was beginning to take your breath away.

     The next day came quickly and before you knew it, you found yourself staring at Connor, who has arrived at your humble abode for a second interview. You knew beforehand that he is arriving but for him to be alone... You expected some other police officer or even the lieutenant himself. “I apologize for this inconvenience,” he started, eyes staring intently in yours. “But I believed that you will be more at ease if you are in a familiar and comfortable environment, such as your home.      Furthermore, with the hostility towards androids and the station overall rambunctious, it’s only fitting that we are to do the interview here.”       You had to blink at the rather smart conclusions, thinking that he is right since you aren’t used to the social world and if things do escalate during the interview, the android will have no choice but to leave regardless since he is a guest here and he would have to abide to the host’s wishes. Bringing him over to the living room, you gestured for the seat across from yours, to which Connor sit himself down in the same straight posture as he would be standing. Body at a complete 90 degrees, he settled his hands along his lap as he stared at you.       Struggling to keep your inhibitions at bay, you listened to him as best you could but the words soon began to distort. It wasn’t necessarily static but it was as though Connor is slowly becoming muffled. “...Are you alright?” he voiced, your senses picking up what you assumed is concern. “You appear ill. Have you been eating and drinking normally lately?” Even though he is capable of scanning you for any ailments, it felt as though he doesn’t do so unless it is absolutely necessary or with consent. The thought of that had you flushed at the cheeks and this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment.      “Uh... No. I mean, yes, I’ve been eating well. It’s just that...” God, how do you even say that it is this damn android that is occupying and distracting your mind? How can you reveal thoughts that seem rather indecent and slightly unsettling? Connor had raised a brow at you but you only glanced at him then stood up, rushing to the kitchen. Yes, a glass of water is most appreciated here. You hastily took a glass from the cabinet, filling it with cold water then downing half the glass.       The cool liquid felt good traveling down your throat, the glass lowered to the counter as you let out a soft sigh. You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you didn’t hear Connor until-- “Are you certain you do not acquire anything?” You jumped, turning to find him surprisingly close to you. He’s leaning his body over, attempting to catch anything upon your features that may be out of place.       You inhaled slowly, unable to bring your eyes away from the brown gaze. Connor laid a hand along the kitchen counter, you turning fully towards him in time for that hand to reach up and take hold of you chin. You froze. The skin met with yours is... Well, it’s surprisingly normal! It didn’t feel cold or like porcelain as it would with a doll. Instead, the skin felt...just like yours. Soft, warm, and having a gentleness that proved that Connor is taking your health into consideration even if you are merely an eyewitness to the aftermath of a murder. Your tongue came out to wet at dry lips, watching as Connor noticed then paying direct attention to you.       “Your body temperature has risen but not to an alarming or worrying level,” Connor noted, turning your head this way and that. You stared deeply into his eyes and up close, you’ve noticed just how vivid the irises were. It wasn’t a dull brown as you would expect from a robot that is to simply solve cases and have a composed, calculated head. They have an energy, a dynamic to them that is similar to everyone else’s you’ve known. It is so...human, as cliche as you thought of it.       Connor had leaned forward at some point, you feeling unraveled at how intense his gaze was. Silence rang between you both, the only sounds were the humming of the air conditioner and the drumming beat of your heart. “Your heart...” he murmured, thumb suddenly going up close to your bottom lip. The very organ is quickening in beat but you didn’t seem to notice. Swiftly glancing down at his own lips then back up, Connor searched for something before he smiled... Oh, that smile. It was small but incredibly beatific that it took your breath away. You’ve never would have expected an android to smile so genuinely like that...      ...but with Connor, with his soft features that demonstrated a buried benevolence and warmth, it had you come undone, especially with how his eyes followed with crinkling, sympathetic lines. It wasn’t as if he’s incredibly delicate or fragile; there is a mellow serenity to him but you can tell that there is a calm imperturbability that can unnerve even the most hardened soul. You suddenly felt exposed as though he managed to open a heavy door with no help from a key or any other means. It should have angered you; you were vulnerable in the presence of an android who can obtain so much information just by a glance and can utilize it to their advantage, if need be.       Just as you wanted to pull the other in to cocoon yourself in that warmth, Connor pulled away and collected his composure by fixing at his tie, smile gone but there is a rather airy mood to him. "If you are currently well,” he started casually as though you two haven’t shared a moment together. “We can continue with the interview.” It didn’t bother you as much that he would be so committed in the investigation.      It only had your lips quirking up, filling the glass up again as you hummed, “Yes, of course. Ask away, detective.” 

[rey-png]

Bilgewater

Summary :  "I feel like this place is going to be the death of me." Rey mumbles absently, gazing out at the murky horizon without quite seeing it. If she could unfocus her eyes enough, maybe, just maybe she could see something other than grief and horror between those gnarled trees. Kylo seems to consider her words carefully, his expression strained as he comes to stand at her side."This place is going to be the death of all of us."

---------

Following the mysterious death of her best friend, fifteen-year-old Rey is forced to flee the small southern town of D’qar in search of a fresh start. Only the demise of her beloved caretaker Ben Kenobi coaxes the young woman back to her home nearly a decade later. Her arrival carries a tempest that unearths the hollow town’s past and present horrors, threatening to pull Rey under the bayou she had fought so desperately to escape from.

Pairing : Rey / Kylo

Additional Tags : Southern Gothic, Cults, Past Child Abuse, Murder Mystery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe - Twins, the solo twins to be exact, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Rating : Explicit

Chapters : 1/?

"To realize that all your life - all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain, it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room. A dream about bein' a person.... And like a lot of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it."

                                                  PROLOGUE

Brambles tug at too-thin arms, nipping at exposed flesh until her clothing is speckled with bright red stains. Her feet nearly send her sprawling as she trips over exposed tree roots, but still she presses onward. Physical discomfort is not nearly enough to slow her down as the baying of hounds rings through the tepid summer air.

Flashlight beams cut through the darkness around her, flickering like lightning bugs through the underbrush. They are accompanied by distorted voices, some of them calling her name, some of them wailing in despair. Even the pleading voice of her guardian isn’t enough to stop her in her tracks. Something far more sinister is following at her heels. She can feel it breathing down her neck.

  Ahead she hears another cry, high pitched and frightened, one that quickens her pace and silences those at her back. ‘Rey!’ Cutting through the trees, her bare feet meet water, sinking deep into mud, splashing noisily through the bayou. The scum that coated the top of the murky water so dense she could have sworn it was earth.

  ‘Rey! Please!’

  Rey tries to call out as she wades deeper into the mire, to assure them that she is on her way, but no words fall from her lips. She reaches up with trembling fingers to press against her mouth, wincing as they catch on the barbed wire that gagged her.

  A pained whimper erupts from her chest, harmonizing with the brutal cry that rips through the swamp. Her movements become frenzied, the world around her warping and twisting, bleeding into inky blackness. She scans the gloomy, star studded horizon, slipping on the mud and rocks beneath her in her haste to find the source of such a blood-curdling lament.

  The woman loses her footing, tumbling forward into the foul water with a strangled gasp. Hands shoot out to steady herself, only to catch something soft and cold beneath the ripples. Rey frowns, brow puckering as she clutches at the odd form. Narrowing her eyes through the dark, she tugs lightly, fighting to regain her balance.

  A mottled grey face blooms from the star-laced water, bloated and terrible even in the half light. It’s the face of a girl, a face eerily similar to her own. Bubbles erupt from her gaping mouth, that bloodcurdling lament spewed right along with them. Bruised lids pop open to reveal yellowed, unseeing eyes that peer up at her in fear and agony.

  Rey jerks backwards as dead hands clamp around her wrists, dragging her towards the terrible, dead face of Kira Kryze. The barbed wire around her mouth tightens as she shrieks in terror, the taste of copper thick on her tongue, gagging her as the shadows rise up around the girl and the corpse...

 “It sounds like this dream correlates with the phone call you received yesterday.”

 Rey’s unfocused eyes flick back to her therapist, blinking hard as she forces herself into the present. Even in the smog infused city, she can taste the foul water on the back of her tongue. Perhaps that was just the bile from the previous night though. She could still feel that suffocating darkness and the frozen grip of her best friend a she dragged them both down to the depths.

 “It’s more than likely, right? I mean, nothing else could have triggered it... I haven’t had dreams like that in years .” They were the reason she was there in the first place, after all. Those grisly nightmares she could never quite remember. They’d began vividly and in earnest shortly after she’d left D’qar, night terrors that left her nearly incapacitated with exhaustion during the day.

 Only a friendly intervention from her dear friend Finn several years back had propelled her into the office of a psychotherapist. ( Heavy eyes droop, her car swerves, Finn yells and grabs the steering wheel before they careen off the highway. He drives her to Norra Wexley’s every week after and pays for every session. )

 Doctor Wexley sits upright in her chair, cool eyes fixating on her patient as she jots down another note on her pad without looking at it. Rey could swear the woman was able to see right through her sometimes, which is likely the reason she rarely scheduled appointments anymore unless absolutely necessary.

 This was frighteningly necessary.

 Upon waking, Rey had turned on every light in her apartment and sat huddled on her ratty sofa, shivering before the TV. It took well over an hour and every single grounding technique she’d been taught to calm her down. The moment she did, her shaking fingers punched in a text, which was replied to only five minutes later, confirming an appointment for later that afternoon.

 Rey’s intuition had always been keen, growing up as she had. She knew things. It was her gift, of sorts.

 Old Ben Kenobi was saved in her speed dial, and the number that flashed across her screen was not.

 The moment she saw that fucking area code, she just knew .

 Just as she knew the news of his death had been the catalyst here.

 The young woman runs a hand over her weary face, wanting nothing more than to lace her fingers through her hair and tug so hard it all came out. Rey had done well for herself the last decade. She could think of home and withstand the occasional news her he would send without dissolving into a fit of despair. She wasn’t the scorned and frightened girl she once was. She could handle things damn it…

 Wexley seemed to understand where her rampant thoughts were beginning to stray and was quick to interject “You’ve come a long way, Rey. This isn’t a regression. These feelings, these experiences are normal. I would have been surprised if you DIDN’T react as you did. This is a harsh blow.”

 Rey nods silently, resting her chin on her hand as she stares off into space. She got that, but it sure as hell didn’t make her feel any better.

 Where Rey came from, one didn’t air their dirty laundry because one always had their shit together. Those that didn’t or COULDN’T comply to those unspoken rules were considered frail and weak. The idea was so saturated that even if those around you cared, they were so over burdened with their own repressed issues they didn’t have the capacity to take on yours as well. It was why they were all rotting, why she was still rotting.

 She’d read Doctor Wexley the same spiel time and time again until she sounded like a broken record. She can’t tolerate vulnerability in herself. It makes her skin crawl to be seen as anything less than a pillar of strength, even before a person who was paid for this nonsense. It’s why she keeps her mouth shut as her therapist barrels onward with her words of wisdom.

 “This is not a sign of weakness.” Wexley punctuates her words with a sharp tap of her pen against her notepad “You know this… I don’t think you know how proud I am of you though.”

 THAT catches Rey’s attention. She nearly gives herself whiplash meeting her eyes.

 She could count the people who were proud of her on one hand.

 Doctor Wexley smiles kindly at her and leans forward in her chair “You could have done things the easy way. You could have said you weren’t going to show up and you could have sold that house from here… But you bought that plane ticket. Rey, that’s a huge step. When you first came to see me, that girl would NEVER have considered what you did today.”

 Now it’s Rey’s turn to smile, though it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “I just wonder if I don’t have ulterior motives for doing this. I owe Ben that much but...”

 There are some tragedies you never stop punishing yourself for, regardless your level of involvement in them. There are some people that will never stop punishing you for them too. There was a vicious cycle of injury, self-inflicted and otherwise that stemmed from that old town. Six years of therapy couldn’t rectify her need to crucify herself. Maybe it was all some subconscious ploy to drag her back.

 “I think your heart is in the right place.”

 Rey isn’t sure her heart exists in this place at all anymore.

 She nods in agreement regardless and clambers wearily to her feet. Her hour was up and she had a lot of preparing to do, physically AND mentally.

 “Thank you, Doctor Wexley… I guess I’d better go pack for a funeral.”

Me @ myself: don't you dare start a new fic when you have an entire series you need to work on also me: laughs manically as i hit publish

Anyway here is the southern gothic fic nobody asked for. This has been rolling around in my brain forever and I've finally started piecing it together. It's heavily inspired by True Detective, which I've been binging recently. Needless to say, this is going to be INCREDIBLY dark. It's sort've my therapy fic and will explore the repercussions of trauma as I've seen it in myself, in those around me, and from what I've learned from research, therapists and other professionals. Please mind the tags. I'll be adding more as I write this & will add warnings in each chapter as I see fit, namely where sexual abuse is concerned.

A short snappy set up! I'm a quarter of the way done with the next chapter so it should be up soon! Comments and reblogs are fabulous! Please let me know what you think <3

[oumakokichi]

I think you've already answered a question like this, but idk. What are some examples showing that Ouma is an empathic person?

Thank you so much for asking this question, because this isright up my alley, honestly.

I always love talking about Ouma’s empathy, because I feelit’s part of what really sets him apart as a character. Of course, I love the “cold,strategic, chessmaster” aspect of his personality, too—but we’ve had manycharacters in DR who are cold and ruthless and terrifying. Junko, Kamukura,Komaeda, and many others all have those traits in common, or at least verysimilar ones.

What’s less common, however, is to have a character who hasall of those traits, and who is also so very human at their core. One of the most fascinating things about Oumain my opinion isn’t the fact that he’s a genius (although he certainly is) orthe fact that he can be absolutely morally grey and downright cutthroat when hewants to be. It’s the fact that he’s all of those things and yet never onceloses his humanity, that aspect of himself which can relate to and understandhis classmates’ thoughts even if he can’t excuse their actions.

Empathy is defined as the ability to understand and shareanother person’s thoughts and feelings. That’s all. It doesn’t necessarily meanforgiving the other person, or even completely agreeing with them—only that it’spossible to understand them and how they must be feeling. Looking at thisdefinition, I don’t think anyone can deny that Ouma is an extremely empatheticcharacter, given all the evidence.

Regardless of his mistakes, and regardless of his villain façade,throughout the entire game we’re provided with plenty of proof that he does understand his classmates, and thathe cares about them deeply in his own way. Unlike characters like Junko,Kamukura, or Komaeda, who were all marked by their inability to truly care orconnect with others, Ouma is someone who cares very deeply, and who inevitablylets it show despite his best efforts to put up a flawless routine.

When his classmates die, he mourns. When they’re in pain, hedoesn’t enjoy it. While I know quite a few people will disagree, I think manyof Ouma’s reactions to his classmates’ death, even the seemingly exaggeratedcrocodile tears, can be taken a lot more at face value than one might think. Often,even the crocodile tear reactions are, I think, his way of trying to mask thepain he feels. After all, his classmates expect that his reactions are a lieanyway. When no one is expecting those reactions to be genuine in the firstplace, it gives him a perfect opening to show how he really feels whilecovering his vulnerability with the usual “that was a lie, though!” routine.

I feel it’s worth noting just how quick he is to express hisemotions whenever they watch someone die, or discover a body. On pretty muchevery occasion, he’s generally either: 1.) extremely loud, shocked, anddistressed (usually with his more exaggerated, crocodile tears sprites), or 2.)very quiet and subdued, often looking either blank or depressed.

It’s clear to see how he sympathizes with the victims ineach trial—in Chapter 2, for example, he even goes as far as to demand the restof the group “apologize to Hoshi,” for letting the killing game continue againeven though they all acted like it was over. He acts really, truly angry, and calls the rest of them “abunch of liars,” though quickly reverts back to pretending to be fine whenKorekiyo turns the question around and asks if those are crocodile tears.

And in Chapter 4, it’s very clear on a reread to see howdeeply Miu’s death shook him, even though he was responsible for it. He looksextremely shaken up by her body discovery, even sweating and looking down as heremarks that “this is a killing game, and these kinds of things happen.”Clearly, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that her death was “necessary”in order to avoid either getting himself killed or the whole group gettingkilled, he couldn’t actually bring himself to justify it deep down.

This sympathy isn’t limited to just the victims, however. IfOuma truly had difficulty empathizing with others, then I think he would behavea lot more like Saionji, whose black-or-white mindset meant she empathizedpretty easily with people who she saw as “good,” but felt that those who were “bad”(usually the culprits) deserved no empathy or grief whatsoever. This mindset isdefinitely a child’s way of looking at things: the idea that sometimes goodpeople do bad things because of circumstances or factors beyond their controldoesn’t occur to someone like Saionji, and she has no interest in exploringthat train of thought.

However, Ouma has no trouble in empathizing with theculprits in ndrv3, either. While he can’t condone murder personally, he can atleast understand why the others do it, even if their inability to stopfrustrates him to no end, particularly when the killing game keeps snowballingbeyond his control. Nonetheless, he stops all his façade and gives Kaede a veryblank, forthright farewell, telling her that she “wasn’t boring.” Similarly,after Kirumi’s execution, he remarks that seeing her will to live on might have“changed his way of thinking about things a little,” and that the will to runaway and live on isn’t a bad thing in and of itself.

And, of course, there’s his reaction to Gonta’s execution, whichis the most notable out of all of them because of just how deeply Ouma was hurtby then. While Ouma’s actions are definitely inexcusable in Chapter 4, there’sno denying that his pained reactions at Gonta’s death were true. Everything,from his tears to his pleas to be executed with Gonta, was a reflection of justhow much it hurt him to throw Gonta under the bus as a sacrificial pawn.Although it was a plan of his own choosing, he very nearly couldn’t stick withit in the end—only Gonta’s request that he live on and “become friends witheveryone” was enough to make Ouma reluctantly agree to keep going.

Had he truly been lying about those tears or that pain,there was no need to keep up the façade in front of Gonta. He had nothing togain by crying in front of him, or by asking to be executed with him. In fact,if he had been even half the villain he pretended to be in the Chapter 4post-trial, he would’ve revealed his “evil villain act” a lot sooner, probablywhile Gonta was still alive to see it. After all, what could’ve hurt moredeeply as a betrayal and rubbed more salt in the wound than telling Gonta allthose things to his face, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it?

His attempt to send Gonta off instead with a “gentle lie”(as in, not telling him that their whole plan in the VR world to “save everyone”had been a ruse from the start) was done out of mercy, not malice. Many of hisactions in Chapter 4 make no sense unless looked at from the perspective thathe was faking his villain routine, and showing his honest reactions insteadwhen he broke down at Gonta’s death. His attempts to take on all the blame, thefact that he asked the others not to blame Gonta in the slightest, and, ofcourse, his dismayed, horrified silence following Gonta’s execution, all showthat he knew he was doing something horrible and awful to Gonta, and that heregretted it and hated himself for it.

This doesn’t only apply to Chapter 4, though. Many of Ouma’sactions in Chapter 5 also make no sense at all unless viewed through theperspective that he was actively trying to help the group, not hurt them.Unlike Komaeda, who made it clear as early as Chapter 1 that he would helpeither the rest of the group or the culprit at any given opportunity, dependingon which one “embodied hope the best,” Ouma exclusively helps the group fromthe shadows, providing hints, clues, and a trail of breadcrumbs, all withouttrying to make it look like he’s helping at all.

He says it himself, quite often: that he does what he does “foreveryone’s sake.” In Chapter 2, he even cheekily tacks on that even if he sayshe’s doing things for everyone’s sake, the others “probably won’tbelieve him, and will just take it as a lie, though.”

Where Komaeda wanted recognition and praise for being “thestepping stone for hope,” Ouma asks for virtually nothing in exchange for his assistance,despite being one of, if not the key reason why the survivors make it outalive. If anything, he often resorted to his villain routine in order to tryand mask his good intentions—such as in Chapter 5, when he handed the electrichammers out to the group, practically on a silver platter, then later hit themall with “the truth of the outside world” in order to try and get rid of theirdesire to go outside and stop the killing game completely.

Had Ouma lacked the ability to empathize with hisclassmates, he also would never have left the clues that he did for his ownmurder in Chapter 5. Absolutely all of those clues were things he verycarefully, deliberately planted, in order to help Saihara and the others reachthe truth. There was no need at all for him to leave Momota’s jacket stickingout from under the press, or tell Momota to flush his own shirt down thetoilet, or to hand the group the camcorder video which became the singlebiggest piece of evidence that a culprit-victim swap had occurred.

All of these clues were left to make sure that the otherswouldn’t actually be executed by Monokuma, if it came down to such a decisionin the trial. Ouma was a master at bluffing, but that’s all it ultimately was:just a bluff. He knew that although it was likely Monokuma wouldn’t be able toexecute anyone if he didn’t know who the culprit was, there was also apossibility that he’d go through with it anyway. And as someone who hated theidea of getting others killed, and who wanted to avoid repeating the samemistakes he made in Chapter 4, he absolutely refused to risk everyone’s liveson that chance, despite his and Momota’s expert bluff. Hence, the clues whichwere otherwise entirely unnecessary to making a real “catbox murder.”

Not least of all, there’s his speech during Momota’sflashback in the Chapter 5 post-trial, in which he reveals that he actuallyhated every single minute of the killing game and resented the people who putthem through it. Had his feelings of distress been limited to the frustrationof losing a game he really, really wanted to win, that would’ve been one thing—butthat’s not the case. Instead, Ouma explicitly says that he wanted to strikeback at the ringleader and the audience in order to “make them all taste truedespair,” and that it would be “perfect revenge for all the people who died.”This line stands out to me, because there was absolutely no reason for him tomention their deceased classmates here unless he really, truly did care aboutall of them.

Again, Ouma’s speech in Chapter 5 is just as genuine as hisbreakdown at Gonta’s death. There’s no real arguing this fact: his motivevideo, found in Chapter 6 almost immediately after, directly supports thisfact. Ouma and DICE were morally against killing; their most important mottowas “don’t kill people,” (just like any good phantom thief) and they wentaround pulling harmless pranks and crimes for fun. Ouma’s motive video isclearly intended as a clue to help not only Saihara, but also the playerthemselves realize that there was a lot more truth hidden in the midst of Ouma’slies than he initially let on.

All of these things truly set him apart as a character forme. He has so many similarities and parallels to a number of other DRcharacters—as I mentioned, Junko and Kamukura are also geniuses, experts atstrategizing and manipulating those around them. When it comes to these two inparticular, I feel Ouma has the added parallel of being highly implied to havesome kind of SHSL Analysis as his talent.

But unlike Junko and Kamukura both, who cannot trulyempathize with those around them, and who turn to inflicting despair on othersin order to seek out an escape from their boredom, what sets Ouma apart themost is the fact that he never actually does this.

Despite how much the word “boredom” is associated with hischaracter, despite the fact that he very likely has a variation of SHSLAnalysis, and despite the fact that Tsumugi wanted to deliberately set him upas an evil, “Junko 2.0” figure during the killing game, Ouma never once wantedto see others suffer or die. In fact, he’s the first character in the entirefranchise to take the idea of “despair” and try to turn it back on the peoplewho made him and his classmates suffer in the first place—the people who wantedto see that “despair” happen the most, in other words.

Ouma is strategic, brilliant, and absolutely cold at times,it’s true. But he’s also incredibly warm at his core, I think. He has achildish quality that the other characters similar to him generally lack (aquality which his official Famitsu profile and Kaede both note makes him “hardto hate”). His idea of seeking an escape from boredom isn’t by hurting others,or making them despair, but by seeking out fun, “interesting” things. Anythingthat surprises him, anything that surpasses his expectations, is automaticallyable to catch his interest. And that’s such a refreshing, interesting trait ina character who tries so hard to convince the characters, the players, and evenhimself that he’s actually ruthless and emotionless.

I’ve talked for long enough probably, so I’ll stop this now,but this was incredibly enjoyable to write. I hope I was able to answer yourquestion! There are so many little hints and clues that Ouma is actually an incrediblycaring and empathetic person; I’ve only just touched on the main points,really. None of this changes the fact that he can be an asshole, to be sure, orthat some of the things he does are inexcusable, but I feel that it’s importantto remember why he does what he does.

One of the key phrases in Umineko (yes, I’m bringing Uminekointo this again, sorry) is “without love, it cannot be seen.” All it means isthat your perspective on absolutely anything is bound to change drasticallydepending on whether you look at it “with” or “without love.”

If you want to view Ouma through the viewpoint of a villainand a horrible person, someone who toyed with everyone and felt nothing aboutit, it’s incredibly easy to do so—especially on a first playthrough. All youhave to do is dismiss all the evidence suggesting he’s a good person, andbelieve everything he or the other characters say about being horrible. But ifyou try looking at it from the other perspective, that he might not be sohorrible after all, your interpretation of the exact same scene can flip aroundalmost entirely, showing new insight into what he might have been thinking orfeeling.

Thank you for stopping by anon, and I’m glad I had a chanceto write about this particular topic!