#none of this is graphic; it's literally just mentioned and not really described
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i should type up the pfeil lore tbh since ive changed it up a little bit recently (very minor changes)
so to start off with pfeil was um. a bit of an oopsie. as has been previously discussed his biological father is thancred. his mother was a noblewoman in gridania; she and her husband were like the only keeper family of any real status in the city and so they were very image-concerned, but didn't particularly like each other. thancred did his typical thancred shenanigans and ended up having a brief affair with pfeil's mom. pfeil, when he was born, was clearly thancred's kid and not his dad's, so it was a whole thing. (to clarify a little, pfeil calls the man who raised him his dad and just calls thancred thancred, so i do it too because it's easier lol)
his mom decided the best way to deal with it would be to just forbid pfeil from leaving the house and kind of. hide him. "What baby? It was a stillbirth! I don't have any conspicuously half-hyuran children!" kind of deal. she also kind of tried to ignore him the best she could when he was growing up because she just really wished he'd vanish. his dad was more hands-on and was sometimes okay but was often egregiously abusive. the servants kind of tried to just stay out of it because what do you even do in that kind of situation? this is where the csa part of pfeil's backstory comes from but that doesn't need any further details.
anyway, since pfeil wasn't allowed to like, go outside and play or anything, he was kind of a weird kid in the beginning. he did a lot of reading and both of his parents encouraged it because it meant he was silent and out of sight, so he had access to pretty much any reading material he wanted as long as it was something convenient for his parents. his favorite subjects were history and adventure fiction.
eventually he just could not tolerate how his dad treated him any longer though and ended up getting the idea in his head to run away from home at about ten ("i've read books about Outside. I can handle myself!" mindset). this would have ended disastrously for him but luckily after a little while of his wandering around gridania CLEARLY lost as fuck mother miounne took him in. she agreed to let him stay at the inn at the carline canopy in exchange for work from him (child labor laws who?) and he agreed. he mostly just waited tables and washed up and he was very cute and the patrons loved him.
the calamity happened when he was 12 and he ended up getting injured and trapped. while he was trapped he saw the Vision From Hydaelyn one gets at the beginning of the game of their wol kicking lahabrea's ass. this is when he got his echo, and also when he decided he wanted to be an adventurer and HERO!!!!!!1 so obviously he goes home and is like "mother miounne let me join the adventurers guild" and she's like "ummm....you're 12. how about you uuuhhh go do odd jobs at bentbranch! that's an adventure!"
so he went and lived at bentbranch for the next five years and got Really Good at caring for chocobos, which became his special interest, and also at hunting using a bow and arrow. he was given a little leeway with hunting in his spare time because it was a useful skill in that it helped feed everyone who lived at the stables or worked there for very long periods, especially immediately post-calamity. as discussed earlier he did not like castrum oriens (i got the name wrong last night LOL), it was always something of a risk to go near it armed even though he was just a teenager with hunting equipment, and it disturbed the wildlife in the area which made his life a little harder. he definitely threw rocks when he thought he could get away with it lol. during this time he also ended up developing amnesia for a lot of his early childhood.
once he was 17 he felt confident enough in his skills with archery to join the adventurer's guild. and then everythign in his life went wrong. Actually it went great at first. at the end of ARR he's like "oh i'm the coolest hero boy ever and everyone loves me and i'm hydaelyn's gift to mankind" but the ARR patches were uhh...well they kind of disabused him of that notion. he had a massive mental breakdown at the beginning of heavensward, became a dark knight, and then awful things just Kept Happening! he did not start getting any better mentally until like, the tail end of endwalker, although he had a bit of a false start for winning at mental health during shadowbringers up until mt gulg.
anyway that's the sort of short pfeil primer. i have some more thoughts about individual expansions but we could be here all day
#csa ment#incest ment#abuse ment#none of this is graphic; it's literally just mentioned and not really described
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Hey:)
Oh yeah if it wasn’t noticed in the ask thingy i answered summer killed a guy
Uhm,,, literally do any question for any oc. I would love to hear you talk about sky because I love her a lot but I know you wanna talk about the directors:)
Mroowwww meow:333
Cracks knuckles Alright! Here we go!
Below the cut is every single question, answered about Sky. And if I couldn't answer it with Sky, I answered it with her ET's Coffee Shop equivalent, Phoebe Kepler. Enjoy.
1. Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?
Sky's (and Phoebe's) voice claim is Penelope Scott! Here's to hoping I don't have to change that, but if I don't find a better voice claim for KMJ, I'm probably gonna change Sky to be British as well.
2. Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?
Sky, unfortunately, is a bit lonely in the Horizon. At least time is weird there so she's not really aware of how long she's alone! Sky has Ru, of course, and the shapeshifters (occasionally accompanied by Entropy) will stop by from time to time, but she doesn't really have a best friend.
Similarly, Phoebe is a bit lonely, but not to the same extent as Sky. She's pretty close to her boss, ET, as well as having a couple friends around the city. But she doesn't really have a specific best friend.
3. What song describes your OC?
Arguably one of the biggest tragedies in my career as an OC writer is the fact that Sky doesn't really have any songs attached to her. Which pisses me off.
I have a few songs that I associate with her in my brain, but none that really describe her. You Only Know by Phemiec and Alone Together by Fall Out Boy are Sky songs, and Rat (linked in question one) and Sweet Hibiscus Tea, both by Penelope Scott, are Phoebe songs.
4. What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?
Along Together, which I mentioned above, is a Skaide song. Cannot for the life of me explain why. It just has the right vibes.
I'll. I'll let Tristen hijack this question because I'm fucking insane about Keplerroe. They are AWFUL. The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens is both a Keplerroe song and Tristen's number one song. As a quick heads up, it's a biiiit graphic. This Is Love by Air Traffic Controller is also a good Keplerroe song.
5. Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?
Jaide is canon to A Hat in Time so yes.
6. If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?
So. So you'll never guess what the big change between WTSS and ETCS is.
Sky in a modern setting is Phoebe. Yeah.
7. Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?
Phoebe in a fantasy setting is Sky!
8. What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?
Sky really likes reading! She reads as many books as she can get her hands on- occasionally books from purple time rifts can fall through the fabric of time and land in the Horizon, and Sky collects those. Entropy has also "borrowed" a couple books from various planets (and probably other dimensions as well). Sky also gardens! She has a fairly extensive garden in her yard and grows a lot of goofy Horizon-native plants.
Phoebe, unfortunately, lives in an apartment and is not allowed to have an extensive garden. However she does have a couple small plants that she can grow inside. She's still a bookworm, and in addition to that, Phoebe will take walks through the local city parks to unwind.
9. How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?
Sky handles her health fairly well! She has plenty of time to.
Phoebe isn't as good at taking care of herself. She certainly tries, but she's also a tired gal in her early twenties who is living check to check and has school on top of that. Physically, she's not in the best shape, but fortunately for her, her boss is very determined to make sure she takes care of herself, and has forced her to take a day or two of paid sick leave to recover.
10. How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?
Sky has good mental health! Every now and then the loneliness will get to her or she'll get really frustrated with King and she'll spiral a bit, but she's good at recovering.
Similarly, Phoebe has pretty damn good mental health for being a tired early-twenties gal. She's stressed with school (trade school for culinary arts!) and very much in need of a good night's sleep, but besides that she's doing surprisingly well!
11. What was your inspiration for your OC?
I've said this so many times at this point, but Sky started out as Queen Vanessa and somehow ended up at the complete opposite. I don't think I can say much else on her inspiration due to spoilers, but I really wanted to give the girls specifically an older sister character. Wendy from Gravity Falls helped with characterization.
Phoebe came from taking Sky and placing her in a more modern story. Phoebe herself doesn't have many inspirations, but a lot of her character is just me experimenting with putting Sky in situations :)
12. Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?
YES!!! YES SHE DOES!!!!!! SKY'S GIRLFRIEND IS THE BEST WOMAN IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AND HER NAME IS JAIDE AND SHE BELONGS TO @artblock-tm AND I LOVE THE TWO OF THEM SO SO SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course, there's the entire Skaide Found Family, along with the cast of RP6, including @/therealnoot's wonderful motherfucker Jinx.
I have restrained myself from having Phoebe interact with other OCs because that is a very slippery slope into spoiler territory, but I do have a list of OCs I want her to interact with once spoilers are no longer an issue! Such as. The entire Skaide found family.
13. Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?
Oh boy guys does Sky have any rivals? Guys I'm not sure. I can't think of anyone guys
Sky has King Moonjumper! And it started with him being a self-absorbed asshole! Which... isn't really true but it definitely is KMJ's fault. They fight because King wants out of the Horizon and Sky's trying to stop him from doing that because it will fuck up the time-space continuum or something like that.
Phoebe doesn't really have any specific rival, but she does have her narrative foil (And later main antagonist), Angelo! They get along for a while and then things go rough and they fight to the death. Typical girl things you know
14. Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!
Once again, King Moonjumper! Bitch.
As for Phoebe. TRISTEN FUCKING KANNAROE. OHOHO THIS MOTHERFUCKER. Not only is it on sight for Phoebe but it is on sight for me as well. And also most of the rest of the cast. It's a fucking tragedy that Phoebe isn't the one who kills him because she deserves it.
15. Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?
This one is a bit too close to spoilers, so I'll be skipping it. Sorry.
16. How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?
Sky... doesn't really have parents! She has Uncle Entropy, but that's it.
Phoebe has a good relationship with her parents! They don't talk too much because Phoebe is busy with work and trade school, but she tries to keep in touch.
17. If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?
Skipping this one because Sky/Phoebe doesn't have kids and never will! Older sibling figure ftw :))))
18. What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?
Both use she/her! Sky is genderqueer, and Phoebe is probably also genderqueer but too busy to question her gender identity.
19. What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?
Asexual panromantic for both!
20. If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?
Sky has, of course, her kickass chained blades! Combined with her crystal magic, Sky is a very good fighter :)
Phoebe doesn't have weapons for a majority of the story. She has a super plot-relevant pocket knife that Angelo gives her early on, and she does wield Tachycardia (aka TickTach) once, but it's not until just before the climax of the story that Phoebe receives her signature chained blades.
21. What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?
One of the songs I mentioned in question 3, You Only Know, is both a Sky and King Moonjumper song! Even though it doesn't really describe their relationship. It just fits both of them.
Once again, I was cursed with not relating very many songs to Sky. And I can't even begin to talk about Phoebe's various antagonists throughout the story, but please revisit question 4 for some of the songs.
22. Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?
Fight! Sky and Phoebe are both super kind people, but they're also stubborn and willing to fight for what they believe!
23. Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?
Absolutely. Sky would be over in a heartbeat with a spare tire and help you replace it. Phoebe would be pissed you woke her up, and probably wouldn't drive out to wherever you are, but she would tell you who to call instead or give you instructions on how to fix it. Sky's a bit more reliable because she's less tired, but both are super trustworthy.
24. Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?
Although Phoebe and Sky do not play an instrument, if they were to, it would be clarinet. That would also be the instrument that Sky's main music motif is in!
25. Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?
ABSOLUTELY. Both Sky and Phoebe would love listening to music while doing chores. Heck, Phoebe already does that.
26. What flower do you associate your OC with?
Fictional-ass flowers. The Horizon has goofy flowers that Entropy has spread to literally every piece of media they touch, and Sky/Phoebe is one of three characters associated with these specific flowers- and yes, they do serve some mild narrative importance. Entropy and Tranquility are the other two.
27. What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?
CATS! Sky and Phoebe both have a cat!! There's, of course, the iconic bushcat Ru, but Phoebe has befriended a stray cat who she's nicknamed Rue!!
28. What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)
Not drawing this because I am tiiiiired
Sky would not be very cliquey! She tries to be friends with everyone :)
Phoebe would also not like to be in any cliques, but she naturally gravitates to the smart kids.
29. Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)
I will get back to this one I promise. I will do this. Not now though because I want to be done with this.
30. My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)
JOKES ON YOU, SKY IS ALREADY FRIENDS WITH YOUR OCS!!!!
Phoebe would also be friends with your OCs!! Despite the different circumstances, they are the same person at their core, so she would love meeting Ameya and the rest of your OCs :)
#Ahit Horalo AU#Ahit OC Skyscreamer#ET's Coffee Shop#OC Phoebe Kepler#I AM SO TIRED. DEAR GOD#BUT I FINISHED#Marci Answers
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What's your take on the hockey booktok thing? Since you mentioned it on twt
my initial take would be that all these people scare me so much I don't want to get into it but also people keep messaging me to be like did you know people ship carlando" off the back of it and yes. I did know that.
my understanding of what's happened on booktok, which I absorb any information about only twice a year during whatever version of this is blowing up at the time, is pretty limited. partly because I'm not on tiktok and partly because I can't read. but the crux of it seems to have come down to people writing disgustingly thirsty comments on a hockey player and his wife's posts, regardless of what they were about, somehow feeling empowered to be horny not just on main but in someone's face because of booktok.
that's, clearly, not remotely acceptable. if there are communities of people out there that thirst about me I don't know about them (although the cold tendrils of horror about the Wikifeet page have just gripped me and no, oh god, that isn't the phrase I should've used at all get me out of here) but there are loads of people who fucking hate my guts. that's like, fine, it's their own business; if they keep it on discord or whatever and away from me it doesn't do me any harm. lord knows, I have committed the act of hating and indeed being horny, sometimes simultaneously, when I was at a safe enough distance for none of the subjects to ever know.
this is a thing about fandom. if you post "Max Verstappen looks breedable" on here then he's extraordinarily unlikely to ever see it or probably know what it means. if you comment that on Kelly's instagram posts, even if you don't like her and even if that's for valid reasons, that's very different.
as I gather it, the booktok thing has exploded into RPF in general. which, I gotta say, RPF and sexually harassing a dude and his family are in fact very different things. one has a rich history, both as actual ways of telling history (Anthony and Cleopatra: RPF, Chernobyl: RPF, the god damn Gran Turismo movie is RPF about an uncomfortably large number of people I know IRL and to be fair it looks like it slaps I'm gonna see it) and as a longstanding artform. RPF's history of horny is even extremely longstanding, with obscene RPF being used by both the French and Russian revolutionaries to undermine the concept of royal divinity.
RPF is political because it involves an interpretation of real events and people. and the perspective from which that's written will always be political. RPF can, certainly, be feminist; there's quite a lot of retellings of classical stories that fit this. RPF can, also, be fucking weird horny shit. or terrible man takes. or incredible, tender, queer retellings; Kaz Rowe's graphic novel about real-life surrealist Claude Cahun is an obvious example of the latter. Pride, the film about the miners' strikes and the AIDS crisis, is another.
so yeah, it is a legitimate and recognised form of literature and art and also uhhhh. well. I mean the omegaverse is definitely recognised, legally, in court because of that one case but I don't know that even its fiercest enthusiasts would really be all that keen on describing it. not as like, literature or anything just I think most people would rather literally never have an IRL conversation about that. ever.
I'm not 1000% clear on how carlando got into this but clearly that's broken containment a long time ago anyway. when you had Sky doing love heart interviews 15 races into them being teammates or whatever, there was an obvious amount of gay chicken being played by the producers that frankly, as a queer person in motorsport, I'm a lot more comfortable with the fan version of.
no, obviously, I do not think they are dating - or want to think that tbh - but frequently-queer fans projecting the wish fulfilment of seeing a kinder and more representative world for their desires, in places hidden from the subjects, is a lot less weird than leering, laughed-at dating questions and milk baths. in an ideal world it wouldn't have to be a secret, yearned-for alternative because things would be safe and open enough for there to be real queer stories everywhere but that, unfortunately, is not the one we currently live in.
wish fulfilment and telling stories are not the same things, necessarily. sometimes you tell the stories to remind yourself it's ok to have wishes or to work out what those even are. I don't think there's anything necessarily harmful about what names the characters have in those, provided the line between reality and any real people's privacy is kept.
clearly, with the booktok thing, that's where things went extremely wrong. generally tiktok as a whole seems to have a very odd perception about other people's agency, whether it's pranking videos or like the girl who filmed people peeing at Spa. if you regard everyday people as content opportunities (spoiler: the law does not think this and particularly in the EU you cannot film people without their consent) then I guess it's easy to slide over to seeing an athlete as a target for what I suspect very few of the people doing it recognised as very unpleasant and invasive harassment.
there's nothing wrong with fancying athletes. there's nothing even wrong with sexualising them, provided you respect some boundaries and provided it's not part of the conditions of their working contracts. there's a lot of difference between there being a discord where, idk, people say Mitch Evans is hot (he is, although somewhat implausibly he genuinely does not know this) and sponsors for female tennis players wanting them to wear revealing outfits and stay skinny or teenage girls being encouraged into provocative photoshoots by people who promise them roles, etc. teenage male athletes being pressured into doing things they don't want to yet or maybe at all to prove they're men, queer athletes being forced to hide who they are or repress it entirely.
would it be a little bit odd to find RPF of yourself? yes. I won't lie, I would judge the characterisation. I already do judge that on the frankly very weird things people write about me. you have never seen RPF as strange as the narratives people will make up about you in the comments of an article about hydrogen and frankly those scare me a lot more than whether someone thinks I'd be assigned beta or whatever.
stumbling across something, rather than having explicit sexual fantasies forced into your face, especially on what's your own social media pages where people you know in real life can see them, is very different though. some people who engage with RPF cross lines, whether that's weird conspiracy stuff about girlfriends being faked or stalking people's friends accounts etc.
RPF doesn't inherently cross lines, even when it's public; there's a very interesting interview here with Jann Mardenborough and the guy who plays him in the Gran Turismo movie about, among other things, portraying a fatal crash he was involved in. clearly, Jann is not only aware of but is the executive producer of what's ultimately fiction about himself and there's an ownership there, of course. but some parts of the movie are made up, for sure.
obviously I'm like, the not-very-secret infiltrator here because clearly I am On Tumblr and know what AO3 is. I follow a bunch of people who write fanfic because they also make nice gifs of my favourite blorbos and I like to think we can all make peace with our own boundaries about that kinda thing. also I read every single Shane/Ryan fic in like 5 weeks and honestly, not going to apologise except to myself for persisting with a few that didn't pay off.
but like: you do not have to make RPF or any fandom activity unethical. the way you conduct yourself does that and some people step way out of line.
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Back from Hiatus
Trigger warning? I think? Brief mentions of medical stuff, nothing graphic. Oh, and death (but none occurred).
TLDR if you don't want to read seven paragraphs: Physical health bad, mental health bad, now hospitalised, fucked up when transferring my story files, hospital bad, home soon?, regardless you will be seeing me back in your feed probably more than you'd like
Rambling below cut
So, about a month ago I had to take a step back from Tumblr... and then an even bigger step back from Tumblr, because I had taken a step back from writing and I found that I just pressured myself too much to write and post when I did use the app. (I did my best to save your guys' stories in my drafts to read later but... I may have missed some and I definitely have some catching up to do.)
Why did I take a hiatus from writing? Well, that was due to my physical health declining in a real bad way. I won't get into it too much here, because I would end up telling a dramatic yet probably honestly boring story of the last four years of my life, but I'm willing to answer any questions if anyone's curious.
Anyway, that sent my head into a state of just utter... fear, I suppose. It's very difficult to care or focus on anything else when death is literally on your mind, and I was also in this weird state of limbo because I wasn't sure if I would be going to hospital or dying or what... so I didn't write, or really do anything except try to take care of myself the best I could. And I pretty much just isolated.
I've been in hospital a couple days now. The fear of death has lessened, and I think I'm gonna be okay, though I'm straight up not having a good time. I had this idea that what would get me through it was writing, so I sent myself all of my docs for my WIPs. Thing is, I keep shortcuts to them on my desktop, and apparently they don't save changes to the root file?? A lesson I learned after I showed up and found that massive chunks of my writing, notes, and storyboards were missing. Yeah, I fucked up.
But now there is talk of outpatient care as soon as this Friday which means I can maybe go home with my TPN (feeding through a vein tube which is the best way I can describe it since I am not a medical professional; it's basically a hardcore IV and I assure you it's badass and exactly like Cyberpunk 2077 -- that was sarcasm but seriously, props to anyone who lives with these because these are terrifying). If that's the case, I'll be able to carry on with White Ribbon and the fics I had started for Darjeeling and Budapest, and it will probably be a lot easier for me to write in general. I haven't tried writing yet, but hospital is a really uncomfortable environment for me (I mean, I'm sure it is for most people but I have a lovely lifetime dose of trauma on top of the usual) and I'm not managing as well as I thought I would so I have my doubts on how well I will be able to focus. (Don't worry about requests, guys... I haven't forgotten about any of them and I still fully intend to fulfill them, even if it means writing your smutty fantasies in hospital.)
If that's not the case, and I'm stuck here until surgery, well, I am willing it into the damn universe that I'm gonna write again regardless. So if you don't see me post something in the next week you have my blessing to send copious amounts of hate mail.
Thank you for reading my long-winded explanation. Oh, and, don't hesitate to message/reach out or tag me in anything! I'm feeling more social again now that I'm not, you know, dying and stuff.
#updates#i think i should be diagnosed with a rambling disorder this was meant to be like two paragraphs
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ᡴꪫ aka reverie’s history lessons for ‘til death do us part we do art !! any lore/historical info i want to share for anyone who is interested. <3
⟢ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. SUMMARIES. SERIES PLAYLIST.
+ any asks concerning the series = # ꫂ ၴႅၴ ‘TDWDA .ᐟ
i have like 10+ tabs open every single time i’m writing for this series for research, so this is mostly me to refer back to but i thought i’d just share some of the things i’ve learned that i incorporated into the story! (she just loves history lol.) excuse typos; not proofread.
includes my intentional historical inaccuracies, inspo, & easter eggs ;) also, prev. chapters may be updated too towards the end, to reveal other facts that would’ve spoiled the ending.
i. SHE PAINTED THE HIGH RENAISSANCE ONTO HER BLANK CANVAS
ART HISTORY REFS MENTIONED: stanza della segnatura (rooms in the pope’s palace raphael painted), the sistine chapel, nicknames (da vinci- renaissance man; michelangelo- il divino) madonna del granduca (raphael), statue of david, tragedy of the tomb (michelangelo)
INFO INSPO :
TAILORS would actually incorporate a person’s personality & family style into the clothes that they made. i found that really cool—everything was more custom!
speaking about clothes—dazai mentioning that fyodor was probably irritated because the pope forced him into a suit? fyodor keeping the same outfit…up until he turned into bram, and also, michelangelo was the same way. he dressed like a peasant, not bothering to go above that.
LA VOLTA (literally "to turn") really was the most controversial dance during the renaissance era! previously, men & women would touch palms at most; this dance changed that. there were disputes from the church, dance defenders arguing it wasn't good for health (because of the fast pace and turns), etc. anyway, dazai's entire scene is actually inspired from elizabeth (1998; i never watched the movie, but i came across it while researching the dance)—the scene where queen elizabeth dances w/ sir robert. i also think this was a nice touch because the scene in the movie was inspired by a painting of just that. (coining the dance being described as “scandalous”.)
THE “TRAGEDY OF THE TOMB” was a real thing! michelangelo indeed was assigned to create pope julius ii’s tomb, but they kept disagreeing so much until the designs for it dwindled down extremely, compared to what it was originally. michelangelo then abandoned the commission, calling it the tragedy of the tomb, and proceeded to leave rome entirely. the project was handed to other artists after.
HISTORICAL INACCURACIES :
FYODOR & DAZAI WEARING SUITS. i’m sorry, i just think the renaissance/medieval doublets are soo ugly imo :’) + wtv they call those puffy trousers…i haven’t even looked up the term to call them LOL. “suit” is a broad term in general so you can still definitely imagine it as them in a historically-accurate outfit if you’d wish !! (but in my mind, they’re wearing suits as if they were princes from a completely different timeline shh)
EASTER EGGS :
the lady with dark curls in a deep red dress who briefly danced with dazai? she’s none other than red (redamantiya) :) thank u darling for watching me struggle & panic while writing this installment + helping me a bit out with osamu + the playlist.
the big three !! dazai and fyodor being love interests ofc, so i had to make ranpo reader’s right-hand man. ;)
to be continued…
reblogging the chapters are cherished; they are what support me the most <3. ノ dividers + support banner by cafekitsune. header graphic mine; DO NOT save.
© AUREATCHI 2024 — no reposts. do not steal/modify or take inspo from TDWDA + its plot w/o asking. no translations.
last updated: 7/12/24.
#৻ꪆ 𓂃 ‘til death we do art#comment on the main masterlist to join the tagslist. <3#bsd manga spoilers btw
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#just finished a ya book thats put me in a really weird mood#which#my bad for reading stuff about murders and raising people from the dead before bed#but there was so much triggery shit in that book that wasnt mentioned in ANY of the summaries i read#and even the goodreads reviews#and im kinda APPALLED because if id read that book as a teen it would have fucked me up#like#really fuck me up#like..... dont say characters “died in mysterious circumstances” when you spend half the book describing their deaths as suicides#and be GRAPHIC ABOUT IT#without warnings ?????!#like ok its a murder mystery so we know its gonna be revealed as ~stage suicide but jesus fucking christ#i know some of it is just... like... personal shit that is personally triggering to me#but i literally physically recoiled from it at one bit thats how shocking i found it#idk its whatever#i shouldnt have pushed through to finish it#maybe i just didnt read enough comments beforehand but like.... none of the 5 stars reviews said anything about it#anyways cant wait to write a review for my rec blog :)))))))))))#i lowkey cant sleep now so thats fun#about me#prob. gonna delete this soon i just feel weird and had to type it out#tw suicide
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The Green Knight and Medieval Metatextuality: An Essay
Right, so. Finally watched it last night, and I’ve been thinking about it literally ever since, except for the part where I was asleep. As I said to fellow medievalist and admirer of Dev Patel @oldshrewsburyian, it’s possibly the most fascinating piece of medieval-inspired media that I’ve seen in ages, and how refreshing to have something in this genre that actually rewards critical thought and deep analysis, rather than me just fulminating fruitlessly about how popular media thinks that slapping blood, filth, and misogyny onto some swords and castles is “historically accurate.” I read a review of TGK somewhere that described it as the anti-Game of Thrones, and I’m inclined to think that’s accurate. I didn’t agree with all of the film’s tonal, thematic, or interpretative choices, but I found them consistently stylish, compelling, and subversive in ways both small and large, and I’m gonna have to write about it or I’ll go crazy. So. Brace yourselves.
(Note: My PhD is in medieval history, not medieval literature, and I haven’t worked on SGGK specifically, but I am familiar with it, its general cultural context, and the historical influences, images, and debates that both the poem and the film referenced and drew upon, so that’s where this meta is coming from.)
First, obviously, while the film is not a straight-up text-to-screen version of the poem (though it is by and large relatively faithful), it is a multi-layered meta-text that comments on the original Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the archetypes of chivalric literature as a whole, modern expectations for medieval films, the hero’s journey, the requirements of being an “honorable knight,” and the nature of death, fate, magic, and religion, just to name a few. Given that the Arthurian legendarium, otherwise known as the Matter of Britain, was written and rewritten over several centuries by countless authors, drawing on and changing and hybridizing interpretations that sometimes challenged or outright contradicted earlier versions, it makes sense for the film to chart its own path and make its own adaptational decisions as part of this multivalent, multivocal literary canon. Sir Gawain himself is a canonically and textually inconsistent figure; in the movie, the characters merrily pronounce his name in several different ways, most notably as Sean Harris/King Arthur’s somewhat inexplicable “Garr-win.” He might be a man without a consistent identity, but that’s pointed out within the film itself. What has he done to define himself, aside from being the king’s nephew? Is his quixotic quest for the Green Knight actually going to resolve the question of his identity and his honor – and if so, is it even going to matter, given that successful completion of the “game” seemingly equates with death?
Likewise, as the anti-Game of Thrones, the film is deliberately and sometimes maddeningly non-commercial. For an adaptation coming from a studio known primarily for horror, it almost completely eschews the cliché that gory bloodshed equals authentic medievalism; the only graphic scene is the Green Knight’s original beheading. The violence is only hinted at, subtextual, suspenseful; it is kept out of sight, around the corner, never entirely played out or resolved. In other words, if anyone came in thinking that they were going to watch Dev Patel luridly swashbuckle his way through some CGI monsters like bad Beowulf adaptations of yore, they were swiftly disappointed. In fact, he seems to spend most of his time being wet, sad, and failing to meet the moment at hand (with a few important exceptions).
The film unhurriedly evokes a medieval setting that is both surreal and defiantly non-historical. We travel (in roughly chronological order) from Anglo-Saxon huts to Romanesque halls to high-Gothic cathedrals to Tudor villages and half-timbered houses, culminating in the eerie neo-Renaissance splendor of the Lord and Lady’s hall, before returning to the ancient trees of the Green Chapel and its immortal occupant: everything that has come before has now returned to dust. We have been removed even from imagined time and place and into a moment where it ceases to function altogether. We move forward, backward, and sideways, as Gawain experiences past, present, and future in unison. He is dislocated from his own sense of himself, just as we, the viewers, are dislocated from our sense of what is the “true” reality or filmic narrative; what we think is real turns out not to be the case at all. If, of course, such a thing even exists at all.
This visual evocation of the entire medieval era also creates a setting that, unlike GOT, takes pride in rejecting absolutely all political context or Machiavellian maneuvering. The film acknowledges its own cultural ubiquity and the question of whether we really need yet another King Arthur adaptation: none of the characters aside from Gawain himself are credited by name. We all know it’s Arthur, but he’s listed only as “king.” We know the spooky druid-like old man with the white beard is Merlin, but it’s never required to spell it out. The film gestures at our pre-existing understanding; it relies on us to fill in the gaps, cuing us to collaboratively produce the story with it, positioning us as listeners as if we were gathered to hear the original poem. Just like fanfiction, it knows that it doesn’t need to waste time introducing every single character or filling in ultimately unnecessary background knowledge, when the audience can be relied upon to bring their own.
As for that, the film explicitly frames itself as a “filmed adaptation of the chivalric romance” in its opening credits, and continues to play with textual referents and cues throughout: telling us where we are, what’s happening, or what’s coming next, rather like the rubrics or headings within a medieval manuscript. As noted, its historical/architectural references span the entire medieval European world, as does its costume design. I was particularly struck by the fact that Arthur and Guinevere’s crowns resemble those from illuminated monastic manuscripts or Eastern Orthodox iconography: they are both crown and halo, they confer an air of both secular kingship and religious sanctity. The question in the film’s imagined epilogue thus becomes one familiar to Shakespeare’s Henry V: heavy is the head that wears the crown. Does Gawain want to earn his uncle’s crown, take over his place as king, bear the fate of Camelot, become a great ruler, a husband and father in ways that even Arthur never did, only to see it all brought to dust by his cowardice, his reliance on unscrupulous sorcery, and his unfulfilled promise to the Green Knight? Is it better to have that entire life and then lose it, or to make the right choice now, even if it means death?
Likewise, Arthur’s kingly mantle is Byzantine in inspiration, as is the icon of the Virgin Mary-as-Theotokos painted on Gawain’s shield (which we see broken apart during the attack by the scavengers). The film only glances at its religious themes rather than harping on them explicitly; we do have the cliché scene of the male churchmen praying for Gawain’s safety, opposite Gawain’s mother and her female attendants working witchcraft to protect him. (When oh when will I get my film that treats medieval magic and medieval religion as the complementary and co-existing epistemological systems that they were, rather than portraying them as diametrically binary and disparagingly gendered opposites?) But despite the interim setbacks borne from the failure of Christian icons, the overall resolution of the film could serve as the culmination of a medieval Christian morality tale: Gawain can buy himself a great future in the short term if he relies on the protection of the enchanted green belt to avoid the Green Knight’s killing stroke, but then he will have to watch it all crumble until he is sitting alone in his own hall, his children dead and his kingdom destroyed, as a headless corpse who only now has been brave enough to accept his proper fate. By removing the belt from his person in the film’s Inception-like final scene, he relinquishes the taint of black magic and regains his religious honor, even at the likely cost of death. That, the medieval Christian morality tale would agree, is the correct course of action.
Gawain’s encounter with St. Winifred likewise presents a more subtle vision of medieval Christianity. Winifred was an eighth-century Welsh saint known for being beheaded, after which (by the power of another saint) her head was miraculously restored to her body and she went on to live a long and holy life. It doesn’t quite work that way in TGK. (St Winifred’s Well is mentioned in the original SGGK, but as far as I recall, Gawain doesn’t meet the saint in person.) In the film, Gawain encounters Winifred’s lifelike apparition, who begs him to dive into the mere and retrieve her head (despite appearances, she warns him, it is not attached to her body). This fits into the pattern of medieval ghost stories, where the dead often return to entreat the living to help them finish their business; they must be heeded, but when they are encountered in places they shouldn’t be, they must be put back into their proper physical space and reminded of their real fate. Gawain doesn’t follow William of Newburgh’s practical recommendation to just fetch some brawny young men with shovels to beat the wandering corpse back into its grave. Instead, in one of his few moments of unqualified heroism, he dives into the dark water and retrieves Winifred’s skull from the bottom of the lake. Then when he returns to the house, he finds the rest of her skeleton lying in the bed where he was earlier sleeping, and carefully reunites the skull with its body, finally allowing it to rest in peace.
However, Gawain’s involvement with Winifred doesn’t end there. The fox that he sees on the bank after emerging with her skull, who then accompanies him for the rest of the film, is strongly implied to be her spirit, or at least a companion that she has sent for him. Gawain has handled a saint’s holy bones; her relics, which were well known to grant protection in the medieval world. He has done the saint a service, and in return, she extends her favor to him. At the end of the film, the fox finally speaks in a human voice, warning him not to proceed to the fateful final encounter with the Green Knight; it will mean his death. The symbolism of having a beheaded saint serve as Gawain’s guide and protector is obvious, since it is the fate that may or may not lie in store for him. As I said, the ending is Inception-like in that it steadfastly refuses to tell you if the hero is alive (or will live) or dead (or will die). In the original SGGK, of course, the Green Knight and the Lord turn out to be the same person, Gawain survives, it was all just a test of chivalric will and honor, and a trap put together by Morgan Le Fay in an attempt to frighten Guinevere. It’s essentially able to be laughed off: a game, an adventure, not real. TGK takes this paradigm and flips it (to speak…) on its head.
Gawain’s rescue of Winifred’s head also rewards him in more immediate terms: his/the Green Knight’s axe, stolen by the scavengers, is miraculously restored to him in her cottage, immediately and concretely demonstrating the virtue of his actions. This is one of the points where the film most stubbornly resists modern storytelling conventions: it simply refuses to add in any kind of “rational” or “empirical” explanation of how else it got there, aside from the grace and intercession of the saint. This is indeed how it works in medieval hagiography: things simply reappear, are returned, reattached, repaired, made whole again, and Gawain’s lost weapon is thus restored, symbolizing that he has passed the test and is worthy to continue with the quest. The film’s narrative is not modernizing its underlying medieval logic here, and it doesn’t particularly care if a modern audience finds it “convincing” or not. As noted, the film never makes any attempt to temporalize or localize itself; it exists in a determinedly surrealist and ahistorical landscape, where naked female giants who look suspiciously like Tilda Swinton roam across the wild with no necessary explanation. While this might be frustrating for some people, I actually found it a huge relief that a clearly fantastic and fictional literary adaptation was not acting like it was qualified to teach “real history” to its audience. Nobody would come out of TGK thinking that they had seen the “actual” medieval world, and since we have enough of a problem with that sort of thing thanks to GOT, I for one welcome the creation of a medieval imaginative space that embraces its eccentric and unrealistic elements, rather than trying to fit them into the Real Life box.
This plays into the fact that the film, like a reused medieval manuscript containing more than one text, is a palimpsest: for one, it audaciously rewrites the entire Arthurian canon in the wordless vision of Gawain’s life after escaping the Green Knight (I could write another meta on that dream-epilogue alone). It moves fluidly through time and creates alternate universes in at least two major points: one, the scene where Gawain is tied up and abandoned by the scavengers and that long circling shot reveals his skeletal corpse rotting on the sward, only to return to our original universe as Gawain decides that he doesn’t want that fate, and two, Gawain as King. In this alternate ending, Arthur doesn’t die in battle with Mordred, but peaceably in bed, having anointed his worthy nephew as his heir. Gawain becomes king, has children, gets married, governs Camelot, becomes a ruler surpassing even Arthur, but then watches his son get killed in battle, his subjects turn on him, and his family vanish into the dust of his broken hall before he himself, in despair, pulls the enchanted scarf out of his clothing and succumbs to his fate.
In this version, Gawain takes on the responsibility for the fall of Camelot, not Arthur. This is the hero’s burden, but he’s obtained it dishonorably, by cheating. It is a vivid but mimetic future which Gawain (to all appearances) ultimately rejects, returning the film to the realm of traditional Arthurian canon – but not quite. After all, if Gawain does get beheaded after that final fade to black, it would represent a significant alteration from the poem and the character’s usual arc. Are we back in traditional canon or aren’t we? Did Gawain reject that future or didn’t he? Do all these alterities still exist within the visual medium of the meta-text, and have any of them been definitely foreclosed?
Furthermore, the film interrogates itself and its own tropes in explicit and overt ways. In Gawain’s conversation with the Lord, the Lord poses the question that many members of the audience might have: is Gawain going to carry out this potentially pointless and suicidal quest and then be an honorable hero, just like that? What is he actually getting by staggering through assorted Irish bogs and seeming to reject, rather than embrace, the paradigms of a proper quest and that of an honorable knight? He lies about being a knight to the scavengers, clearly out of fear, and ends up cravenly bound and robbed rather than fighting back. He denies knowing anything about love to the Lady (played by Alicia Vikander, who also plays his lover at the start of the film with a decidedly ropey Yorkshire accent, sorry to say). He seems to shrink from the responsibility thrust on him, rather than rise to meet it (his only honorable act, retrieving Winifred’s head, is discussed above) and yet here he still is, plugging away. Why is he doing this? What does he really stand to gain, other than accepting a choice and its consequences (somewhat?) The film raises these questions, but it has no plans to answer them. It’s going to leave you to think about them for yourself, and it isn’t going to spoon-feed you any ultimate moral or neat resolution. In this interchange, it’s easy to see both the echoes of a formal dialogue between two speakers (a favored medieval didactic tactic) and the broader purpose of chivalric literature: to interrogate what it actually means to be a knight, how personal honor is generated, acquired, and increased, and whether engaging in these pointless and bloody “war games” is actually any kind of real path to lasting glory.
The film’s treatment of race, gender, and queerness obviously also merits comment. By casting Dev Patel, an Indian-born actor, as an Arthurian hero, the film is… actually being quite accurate to the original legends, doubtless much to the disappointment of assorted internet racists. The thirteenth-century Arthurian romance Parzival (Percival) by the German poet Wolfram von Eschenbach notably features the character of Percival’s mixed-race half-brother, Feirefiz, son of their father by his first marriage to a Muslim princess. Feirefiz is just as heroic as Percival (Gawaine, for the record, also plays a major role in the story) and assists in the quest for the Holy Grail, though it takes his conversion to Christianity for him to properly behold it.
By introducing Patel (and Sarita Chowdhury as Morgause) to the visual representation of Arthuriana, the film quietly does away with the “white Middle Ages” cliché that I have complained about ad nauseam; we see background Asian and black members of Camelot, who just exist there without having to conjure up some complicated rationale to explain their presence. The Lady also uses a camera obscura to make Gawain’s portrait. Contrary to those who might howl about anachronism, this technique was known in China as early as the fourth century BCE and the tenth/eleventh century Islamic scholar Ibn al-Haytham was probably the best-known medieval authority to write on it extensively; Latin translations of his work inspired European scientists from Roger Bacon to Leonardo da Vinci. Aside from the symbolism of an upside-down Gawain (and when he sees the portrait again during the ‘fall of Camelot’, it is right-side-up, representing that Gawain himself is in an upside-down world), this presents a subtle challenge to the prevailing Eurocentric imagination of the medieval world, and draws on other global influences.
As for gender, we have briefly touched on it above; in the original SGGK, Gawain’s entire journey is revealed to be just a cruel trick of Morgan Le Fay, simply trying to destabilize Arthur’s court and upset his queen. (Morgan is the old blindfolded woman who appears in the Lord and Lady’s castle and briefly approaches Gawain, but her identity is never explicitly spelled out.) This is, obviously, an implicitly misogynistic setup: an evil woman plays a trick on honorable men for the purpose of upsetting another woman, the honorable men overcome it, the hero survives, and everyone presumably lives happily ever after (at least until Mordred arrives).
Instead, by plunging the outcome into doubt and the hero into a much darker and more fallible moral universe, TGK shifts the blame for Gawain’s adventure and ultimate fate from Morgan to Gawain himself. Likewise, Guinevere is not the passive recipient of an evil deception but in a way, the catalyst for the whole thing. She breaks the seal on the Green Knight’s message with a weighty snap; she becomes the oracle who reads it out, she is alarming rather than alarmed, she disrupts the complacency of the court and silently shows up all the other knights who refuse to step forward and answer the Green Knight’s challenge. Gawain is not given the ontological reassurance that it’s just a practical joke and he’s going to be fine (and thanks to the unresolved ending, neither are we). The film instead takes the concept at face value in order to push the envelope and ask the simple question: if a man was going to be actually-for-real beheaded in a year, why would he set out on a suicidal quest? Would you, in Gawain’s place, make the same decision to cast aside the enchanted belt and accept your fate? Has he made his name, will he be remembered well? What is his legacy?
Indeed, if there is any hint of feminine connivance and manipulation, it arrives in the form of the implication that Gawain’s mother has deliberately summoned the Green Knight to test her son, prove his worth, and position him as his childless uncle’s heir; she gives him the protective belt to make sure he won’t actually die, and her intention all along was for the future shown in the epilogue to truly play out (minus the collapse of Camelot). Only Gawain loses the belt thanks to his cowardice in the encounter with the scavengers, regains it in a somewhat underhanded and morally questionable way when the Lady is attempting to seduce him, and by ultimately rejecting it altogether and submitting to his uncertain fate, totally mucks up his mother’s painstaking dynastic plans for his future. In this reading, Gawain could be king, and his mother’s efforts are meant to achieve that goal, rather than thwart it. He is thus required to shoulder his own responsibility for this outcome, rather than conveniently pawning it off on an “evil woman,” and by extension, the film asks the question: What would the world be like if men, especially those who make war on others as a way of life, were actually forced to face the consequences of their reckless and violent actions? Is it actually a “game” in any sense of the word, especially when chivalric literature is constantly preoccupied with the question of how much glorious violence is too much glorious violence? If you structure social prestige for the king and the noble male elite entirely around winning battles and existing in a state of perpetual war, when does that begin to backfire and devour the knightly class – and the rest of society – instead?
This leads into the central theme of Gawain’s relationships with the Lord and Lady, and how they’re treated in the film. The poem has been repeatedly studied in terms of its latent (and sometimes… less than latent) queer subtext: when the Lord asks Gawain to pay back to him whatever he should receive from his wife, does he already know what this involves; i.e. a physical and romantic encounter? When the Lady gives kisses to Gawain, which he is then obliged to return to the Lord as a condition of the agreement, is this all part of a dastardly plot to seduce him into a kinky green-themed threesome with a probably-not-human married couple looking to spice up their sex life? Why do we read the Lady’s kisses to Gawain as romantic but Gawain’s kisses to the Lord as filial, fraternal, or the standard “kiss of peace” exchanged between a liege lord and his vassal? Is Gawain simply being a dutiful guest by honoring the bargain with his host, actually just kissing the Lady again via the proxy of her husband, or somewhat more into this whole thing with the Lord than he (or the poet) would like to admit? Is the homosocial turning homoerotic, and how is Gawain going to navigate this tension and temptation?
If the question is never resolved: well, welcome to one of the central medieval anxieties about chivalry, knighthood, and male bonds! As I have written about before, medieval society needed to simultaneously exalt this as the most honored and noble form of love, and make sure it didn’t accidentally turn sexual (once again: how much male love is too much male love?). Does the poem raise the possibility of serious disruption to the dominant heteronormative paradigm, only to solve the problem by interpreting the Gawain/Lady male/female kisses as romantic and sexual and the Gawain/Lord male/male kisses as chaste and formal? In other words, acknowledging the underlying anxiety of possible homoeroticism but ultimately reasserting the heterosexual norm? The answer: Probably?!?! Maybe?!?! Hell if we know??! To say the least, this has been argued over to no end, and if you locked a lot of medieval history/literature scholars into a room and told them that they couldn’t come out until they decided on one clear answer, they would be in there for a very long time. The poem seemingly invokes the possibility of a queer reading only to reject it – but once again, as in the question of which canon we end up in at the film’s end, does it?
In some lights, the film’s treatment of this potential queer reading comes off like a cop-out: there is only one kiss between Gawain and the Lord, and it is something that the Lord has to initiate after Gawain has already fled the hall. Gawain himself appears to reject it; he tells the Lord to let go of him and runs off into the wilderness, rather than deal with or accept whatever has been suggested to him. However, this fits with film!Gawain’s pattern of rejecting that which fundamentally makes him who he is; like Peter in the Bible, he has now denied the truth three times. With the scavengers he denies being a knight; with the Lady he denies knowing about courtly love; with the Lord he denies the central bond of brotherhood with his fellows, whether homosocial or homoerotic in nature. I would go so far as to argue that if Gawain does die at the end of the film, it is this rejected kiss which truly seals his fate. In the poem, the Lord and the Green Knight are revealed to be the same person; in the film, it’s not clear if that’s the case, or they are separate characters, even if thematically interrelated. If we assume, however, that the Lord is in fact still the human form of the Green Knight, then Gawain has rejected both his kiss of peace (the standard gesture of protection offered from lord to vassal) and any deeper emotional bond that it can be read to signify. The Green Knight could decide to spare Gawain in recognition of the courage he has shown in relinquishing the enchanted belt – or he could just as easily decide to kill him, which he is legally free to do since Gawain has symbolically rejected the offer of brotherhood, vassalage, or knight-bonding by his unwise denial of the Lord’s freely given kiss. Once again, the film raises the overall thematic and moral question and then doesn’t give one straight (ahem) answer. As with the medieval anxieties and chivalric texts that it is based on, it invokes the specter of queerness and then doesn’t neatly resolve it. As a modern audience, we find this unsatisfying, but once again, the film is refusing to conform to our expectations.
As has been said before, there is so much kissing between men in medieval contexts, both ceremonial and otherwise, that we’re left to wonder: “is it gay or is it feudalism?” Is there an overtly erotic element in Gawain and the Green Knight’s mutual “beheading” of each other (especially since in the original version, this frees the Lord from his curse, functioning like a true love’s kiss in a fairytale). While it is certainly possible to argue that the film has “straightwashed” its subject material by removing the entire sequence of kisses between Gawain and the Lord and the unresolved motives for their existence, it is a fairly accurate, if condensed, representation of the anxieties around medieval knightly bonds and whether, as Carolyn Dinshaw put it, a (male/male) “kiss is just a kiss.” After all, the kiss between Gawain and the Lady is uncomplicatedly read as sexual/romantic, and that context doesn’t go away when Gawain is kissing the Lord instead. Just as with its multiple futurities, the film leaves the question open-ended. Is it that third and final denial that seals Gawain’s fate, and if so, is it asking us to reflect on why, specifically, he does so?
The film could play with both this question and its overall tone quite a bit more: it sometimes comes off as a grim, wooden, over-directed Shakespearean tragedy, rather than incorporating the lively and irreverent tone that the poem often takes. It’s almost totally devoid of humor, which is unfortunate, and the Grim Middle Ages aesthetic is in definite evidence. Nonetheless, because of the comprehensive de-historicizing and the obvious lack of effort to claim the film as any sort of authentic representation of the medieval past, it works. We are not meant to understand this as a historical document, and so we have to treat it on its terms, by its own logic, and by its own frames of reference. In some ways, its consistent opacity and its refusal to abide by modern rules and common narrative conventions is deliberately meant to challenge us: as before, when we recognize Arthur, Merlin, the Round Table, and the other stock characters because we know them already and not because the film tells us so, we have to fill in the gaps ourselves. We are watching the film not because it tells us a simple adventure story – there is, as noted, shockingly little action overall – but because we have to piece together the metatext independently and ponder the philosophical questions that it leaves us with. What conclusion do we reach? What canon do we settle in? What future or resolution is ultimately made real? That, the film says, it can’t decide for us. As ever, it is up to future generations to carry on the story, and decide how, if at all, it is going to survive.
(And to close, I desperately want them to make my much-coveted Bisclavret adaptation now in more or less the same style, albeit with some tweaks. Please.)
Further Reading
Ailes, Marianne J. ‘The Medieval Male Couple and the Language of Homosociality’, in Masculinity in Medieval Europe, ed. by Dawn M. Hadley (Harlow: Longman, 1999), pp. 214–37.
Ashton, Gail. ‘The Perverse Dynamics of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 15 (2005), 51–74.
Boyd, David L. ‘Sodomy, Misogyny, and Displacement: Occluding Queer Desire in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 8 (1998), 77–113.
Busse, Peter. ‘The Poet as Spouse of his Patron: Homoerotic Love in Medieval Welsh and Irish Poetry?’, Studi Celtici 2 (2003), 175–92.
Dinshaw, Carolyn. ‘A Kiss Is Just a Kiss: Heterosexuality and Its Consolations in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Diacritics 24 (1994), 205–226.
Kocher, Suzanne. ‘Gay Knights in Medieval French Fiction: Constructs of Queerness and Non-Transgression’, Mediaevalia 29 (2008), 51–66.
Karras, Ruth Mazo. ‘Knighthood, Compulsory Heterosexuality, and Sodomy’ in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 273–86.
Kuefler, Matthew. ‘Male Friendship and the Suspicion of Sodomy in Twelfth-Century France’, in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 179–214.
McVitty, E. Amanda, ‘False Knights and True Men: Contesting Chivalric Masculinity in English Treason Trials, 1388–1415,’ Journal of Medieval History 40 (2014), 458–77.
Mieszkowski, Gretchen. ‘The Prose Lancelot's Galehot, Malory's Lavain, and the Queering of Late Medieval Literature’, Arthuriana 5 (1995), 21–51.
Moss, Rachel E. ‘ “And much more I am soryat for my good knyghts’ ”: Fainting, Homosociality, and Elite Male Culture in Middle English Romance’, Historical Reflections / Réflexions historiques 42 (2016), 101–13.
Zeikowitz, Richard E. ‘Befriending the Medieval Queer: A Pedagogy for Literature Classes’, College English 65 (2002), 67–80.
#the green knight#the green knight meta#sir gawain and the green knight#medieval literature#medieval history#this meta is goddamn 5.2k words#and has its own reading list#i uh#said i had a lot of thoughts?
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🌹 Sub!SuperM 18+ HC: Riding Their Faces
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word count. 3.7k | bullet points | ot7
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baekhyun is never content just making you cum once or just really lowkey, much less hearing you being silent. he’s a moodmaker, he naturally wants to hear you, and see you twitch like the world ends for goodness sake
brattiest tongue ever, always pulls out the taunting puppy licks, tries to grope you all the time, he’ll get a rough spanking later believe me
also gets his payback from you being crazy wet, as beautiful and cute his face might be it’s gonna end up damn ruined
not gonna lie his voice acrobatics will turn you into a waterfall that’s coming down on him
you can punish him for teasing by going raw with your hips, mochi is in wonderland, seeing stars. put his wrists in a spreader bar and go off is what i’m saying, YOLO
since baekhyun annoys the members by being so hyper in the evening, they appreciate you knocking him out for sleep. and indeed baekhyun dozes like a baby, probably using your ass as a pillow or something
you’ve drained the shit out of him and um watered the flower that is his face, so
another cupcake down, mission success, baekhyun certainly had his fill not to mention lucky you having to deal with his wildly talented mouth ahem, moral of the story annihilate him with your ass
⌜ 💋 lee taemin ⌟
▸ strength: steaminess
you will come (heh) to discover that none of his lyrics were a lie
yeah he’s busy hot boy shit for his gal
taemin has an all-soft and plush tongue that’s super pinkish. it literally feels so good, how to ever get enough of it holy shit
it also happens to be very long so buckle up, he wants to be deep inside of you, serve and please you
probably the most slow and agile movement in the group, tantalizing is the right word for sure
prefers kissing and sucking over just licking because he’s sappy, good on him and good on you those lips are heaven and need to be used by all means
once you go on the pill, taemin will eat his own creampies straight out of you, maybe even two at once, it’s taemin c’mon he’s above-average horny lord knows how much sperm he’s hoarding
loves drowning it seems
raunchy stuff aside, he always dresses up nicely or wears the fluffy sweaters you like the most on him. what an exclusive ride, the scent of the clothing turns you on even more he’s pulling all the registers taemin is so docile and giggly
most sensual style in the group, will edge and give you goosebumps first before the main course even remotely goes down, taemin thinks in several stages hot damn he calculated this
his face heats up so much it’s crazy, then again kkoongie capitalizes on all the warmth from the radiator so you might as well be taemin’s personal heating alright. it’s fun seeing him sweat like mad, see his neck veins bulge... ugh
is gonna be a provocateur and try to nibble on your folds, man he just wants to get slapped around you can see right through this brat’s rowdy plan
might even want his ass played with while you ride his face so prepare for some intense contortions, fingering, butt plugs, prostate massage, the whole array, gladly taemin is flexible
always pulls it off hands-free because he’s a pro and well yeah he’s always tied up how um totally surprising
and any challenge he will meet that i guarantee you
he has immediately apparent shinee concert stamina, longevity like his career, taemin can lend his face to your purposes for the whole night he doesn’t care if he needs to chuck it in the freezer afterwards
bonus: if taemin doesn’t at some point wear one of his glittery masks for sexy time, somebody is probably impersonating him and it’s not the real lee taemin i’m afraid
so many orgasms you’ll stop counting, one blends into the other, even if you’re not moving much, how does he do it
that being said gee can we just appreciate how beautiful his face is, everything about him, it’s gonna be so sexy and soft to kiss him to sleep oh my god
⌜ 💋 kim jongin ⌟
▸ strength: escalating
just how industrious is he? dammit kai is the rent due or something, this shit is not a comeback stage cool down
jongin is needy as fuck, he’s desperate to taste you especially in the morning when his lips are all plump
since then he’s skipped his skin care routine you do the bulk of the moisturizing you see
jokes aside get ready for whimpery kai thrusting his face right into you because he can, should you need something to hold onto, his thighs are literally right there
constant high-pitched moans, some during quick pauses, others stifled, kai are you okay he’s really going all out
so thirsty
if you don’t put a harness on him for this you’re missing out, also you need something to hold this wild slutty motherfucker in place
rock-hard throughout, harder than a goddamn superm choreography
also: sturdy chin that can take a lot, it’s made to be sat on
does a lot of the work, very active, main dancer vibes you know, you can be lazy and just enjoy
most continuous style in the group, gradually getting more and more passionate and nervous — the second you thought it gets boring he goes off, have fun losing your mind and seeing him basically K.O. himself
if he wants to make you cum, rapid tongue jabs deep into your clit, and his hard breath against it, no fair play in here
absolutely has a thing for your shaking thighs, like what the hell he’s blowing a huge load the more you tremble, and he’s goddamn crying from pleasure every time woah
those big ole lips are an absolute treat, yeah i’ll say it again his face is meant for this
wants to be called all kinds of names wow jongin, it just spurs him more
kai. is. so. good.
you can most definitely film your own POV cam, jongin can put on one hell of a show. just this time it’s not his eyes flirting with the camera, it’s his tongue getting a nice rough treatment oh yum
don’t get me wrong he can deliver a romantic version of this, but kai just likes you being tough on his face he can’t deny it
uses his hands so you can ride him even harder, all his teddy bears will be falling off the bed like dominoes
might one day ascend to heaven while giving head, wouldn’t regret it
can do it until complete exhaustion you guys just pass out
being such an oral workaholic do i sense a masochist streak in him there?
fucking typical capricorn
⌜ 💋 wong yukhei ⌟
▸ strength: appetite
first off yukhei is hilarious
it’s called eating out and that’s exactly what he does duh, he’s not nicknamed foodcas for no reason — the restaurant is open my dear, and he just served himself five courses (you)
gets super sweaty, forehead and down the neck, a 6′0 glazed bun can you imagine
giggles a lot, makes the atmosphere relaxed, loves banter before and after, an allround sweet experience
though beware, this guy is hungry. most prone to open his mouth super wide he wants to eat all of you at once
don’t tell kun how nasty he is, much less leader baekhyun, promise me that
and especially nosy kai should not hear about what sexy shit yukhei is doing in his freetime unless you want to trigger a war
that being said the wayv dorm is still the safest place to sit on his face, so. it’s a lawless land there, nobody gives a fuck anymore at this point. yangyang would not even blink if ten murdered someone in cold blood on the balcony, that’s how the atmosphere there can be best described
lucas being a far more harmless himbo still ironically fits into the environment being so sexually insatiable, just how often are you going to fuck? it’s only natural to lose the overview
he loudly pouts and complains when it ends, wants to go on and on, you need a lotta stamina to get with this guy this is not a warning it’s a fact — yukhei really wants to tire himself out and give everything
if you lower your thighs just a little you can feel his dangly earrings. kinda sexy but also a safety concern i know i know, he’s not gonna wear them next time
noisy as heck, wants to do well, always goes the extra mile to be sure you are all happy and satisfied with today’s dining
his tongue is... big...
we’re not gonna talk about that giant bulge either, such a huge tent in those pants it’s a whole camping ground. anyway
what we’ll talk about. his super soft blonde hair, we’re talking salon quality soft, that’s amazing to feel against your legs, it’s great to pull as well, or to twirl really playfully
though there’s not much playful going down when the initial inhibition drops
he’s not made of glass you can really get those hips going
sliding down his nose when you’re all wet... damn good stuff.
lucas is the kinda guy that has you grunting and gritting he loves your reactions, and how aggressive you can get. usually he’s the reaction king but like this? he can get used to it.
totally into having that kinda frog perspective it’s a whole new thing, he’s such a giant now he’s below you, the sight is just superb to him
less likely to have toys involved, but rather a bunch of rope for his chest, his arms, his long ass legs. yukhei is a bondage insider tip y’all
stable as a block of metal. if you go a little too wild on baekhyun he’s probably gonna break his mochi neck but lucas is a different calibre, this mf is made of giant muscles galore, i can only say one thing: finish him
⌜ 💋 mark lee ⌟
▸ strength: speed
talks a lot, even occasionally curses — instantly apologizing, but you curse right back, so this becomes the cussing olympics at some point, taeyong would bury his face in the ground all his parenting efforts have gone to waste
mark basically chokes himself
he can’t control his spit by all means jesus... in his own words: must be the drip then
next to taemin and baekhyun here we have the third drowning victim, mark is in serious need of multiple tissues or towels afterwards but that’s exactly what he likes
mark’s slutty side is not to be underestimated i’m warning you
that’s a healthy young man right here
loves to do quickies to get you off during daytime, if you’re horny just tell him and he’ll find a quiet spot, might do it on his knees rather than you riding him sometimes for practical reasons
all options open, mark is flexible af. if someone can promote with nct dream and superm at the same time that’s the result
so yeah you’ll experiment with positions and even outfits, what’s the most comfortable to wear?
few people even remotely think about this. mark himself stays in his signature sweater but the glasses come off, you know very well he’s a nerd without them he has nothing to prove lmao!
the clothes will be cozy but don’t let that fool you yet alright
this guy has watched too much porn to just keep it light and cute
don’t get me wrong you can baby him ad nauseam for the more gentle femdom moods
but at the end of the day mark loves some intense shit, he likes feisty girls who aren’t coy and subby, the more perverted you are the better, in fact he enjoys being shocked with brazen attitude and getting orders on what to do.
loves it when you to take it all out on him, rough is good. mark lee’s face is the rodeo range of super m alright, just don’t break his glorious jaw or anything, he still needs it okay
but yeah mark’s face is tempting to ride hard not gonna lie
his tongue can go so fast it’s at the speed of sound, no, the speed of fucking light. mark goes crazy on your clit, wait a few seconds, boom five orgasms rain down on you.
it’s like an anime swordsman just lifting the sword hilt, walking off calmly, and one minute later things are in shambles like how? mark’s sword tech is just epic like that
he’s a leo what did we expect, show-off
in the meantime, RIP to mark lee’s pants. they’ll be soaked with cum, gonna be a bitch to hide your clothes from taeyong who’s always eager to wash everything by himself
that aside, mark really enjoys the position, he doesn’t need much else to be honest, he goes “oh my god oh shit” enough for you to know
thank god he’s a rapper, otherwise his dang technique would be dangerous, he doesn’t breathe for half a minute or so
enjoys you really doing shallow thrusts, super fast and sloppy, loves how much you enjoy it
needless to say: breaks a guinness world record for most licks per second, it’s that mark lee flow
long story short his face is your favorite spot he can prepare for a daily session
all that practice on water melons paid off good job markly
⌜ 💋 ten lee ⌟
▸ strength: allround skill
you know a pro by how he’s offering you a tall glass of water beforehand
and by the way he’s chugging one himself
champion, a keeper
you’re guaranteed to love it, ten is amazing
takes his time, gets to know your every inch, figures out your soft spots in a matter of minutes to seconds
everything for his sexy mama, service sub right here
take him on a leash, grind on his lips, make him kiss your clit, he’ll respond by circling his tongue around obediently
chittaphon might be a little fidgety at the beginning, but the atmosphere is not as tense anymore after doing it two or three times.
ten is actually quite good cracking lighthearted jokes and showing his more extroverted side, he always gets like that with a partner.
you have an easy time with build-up conversations and communicating in general, same with aftercare pillow talk
that being said the degree of professionalism this guy is heading for needs a lot of talk in the first place.
ten likes doing advanced things that aren’t just intuitively understood, you need to exchange yourself a lot
through trial and error you figure out how to incorporate sex toys into the little routine you have going on
the pleasure will be so intense you’ll never want anything else fuck
ten is also down for a lot of moving around, some athletic shit
you’ll go from bouncing on his dick to smothering his face back and forth pretty much, let’s see how fast you’re gonna bust a huge nut like that my bet is five minutes
those like “oh... ah—” moans are just angelic
since he focuses so much on your erogenous zones and always keeps his hands involved, ten is always guaranteed to have you breaking a major sweat
ten does not like to eat any fruits, they say. well that’s true, because he’s too busy eating you that is. boy can basically retire from citizenhood, he’s that busy between your legs.
enough fruit juice for an entire week impending, don’t worry about his nutrients, this is also a form of diet.
uses his chin, his cheeks, the nose especially, the damn nose it’s perfectly shaped
wants you to really ride him hard, and fast, no holds barred at all, going so feral he’ll be squeezing his eyes shut
sometimes his hair gets in the way, it’s just so damn long. the result: hair ties for face-sitting, always on his wrist
among all members, buries his face the deepest, turns him on so much
always makes sure you’re both washed up, no impromptu sessions. ten is a hygiene priest and he’s right
the mattress is kinda bouncy and he always uses his favorite soft pillow under his head so you can definitely take mister ten lee to pound town like work your hips give it to him
in case he survives i send my congrats, you got yourself the right guy, terrific choice queen
⌜ 💋 lee taeyong ⌟
▸ strength: ideas
how much more religiously can he eat you out, he treats this like the best reward he can get
as you can probably tell by now, all the lee surname members are definitely a certain brand and clan of highly distinguished pussy eaters like, these guys are a fucking gang like... well taeyong is no different
reckless abandon oral, eats you like it’s the last day, even death fears lee taeyong when he’s in giving head mode
you might be showering together beforehand and be all shy and kissy like it’s puppy love. but that is all for naught when the tongue of god is unleashed and taeyong gets himself as messed up as he can
yeah i like the thought of god being incarnated as kinky taeyong begging to have his mouth spit and cummed in it just makes sense
very deep mumbles, very hard breathing, those veiny hands on your waist, he wants to make you feel good so bad, fuck he’s so sexy
intense facial expressions, need i say more
also um... he likes to be... threatened. he’s the student you’re the teacher, strict as hell surveying his every move, the more you yell at him the harder he gets, jesus christ he has a thing for you acting mad and shit
taeyong doesn’t even need you to pull off your underwear, he’s gone get through any type of fabric with that leaking mouth
let’s just say he likes to experiment with innovative techniques... anyway, taeyong is a nasty fucking freak, he’s a grade A hoe, you never know what to expect
one time he just licks like a shy doe, the next second slurping explosion 5000
imagine whipping his thighs with a riding crop while sitting right on that ultra gorgeous elven prince face like
taeyong is almost always getting super emotional. he sheds even more tears than kai, like at some point you’ll develop a crying kink because of him SOS
nervous as hell, shaky hands. that can easily be fixed sir let’s tie em up
has you moaning nonstop, he’s so engaged and so dead-on with his movements. don’t be surprised if this damned man has your eyes almost falling out
beware, this guy is into full-on sensual deprivation as well. blindfolds are only the start.
you might end up with a whole lotta black latex involved, who knows, a whole gimp on him he’s down for that, he learned from ten what it is blame chittaphon’s vast kinky knowledge
even better: while you’re grinding on him, taeyong likes you pumping his cock with a fleshlight with zero mercy until he yelps in tiny oops
hell he might ask you to roughly fuck his face with a strap and then ride it, the mister likes double treats huh
then again: wants it to be degrading and dirty and intense on some days, and really wholesome and romantic on others
especially aftercare will be sweet and dulcet, you take care of him, pepper him with kisses for being such a dutiful boy.
looks pretty no matter what. maybe he’s born with it maybe it’s tyongbelline. yeah just how handsome is that face and hair like... t’yongreal paris in full splendor
long story short he’s an oral deity. i rest my case howdy and goodbye see you next time aye
superm masterlist
© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.
#super m#super m smut#superm smut#superm x reader#superm hc#super m headcanon#superm scenario#superm reaction#taemin smut#baekhyun smut#kai smut#mark lee smut#ten smut#taeyong smut#lucas smut#taemin x reader#baekhyun x reader#ten x reader#taeyong x reader#lucas x reader#kai x reader#mark lee x reader#minors dni#ten hc#taemin hc#kai hc#baekhyun hc#lucas hc#mark lee hc#taeyong hc
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Pecattiphilia— Part 2 | PJM
"Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin."
✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader
✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, fluff, future smut, this is a slow burn!
✽ Rated: R for Rebel
✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and possible gore, and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)
✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: action scenes, Jimin’s got some nsfw thoughts, this chapter’s kinda heavy
✽ Word Count: 9.7k
✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden, it's sin. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?
✽ Now Playing…: Sin City by Chrishan (slowed), Have Mercy by Chlöe, Blood Sweat and Tears by BTS
✽ Author’s Note: First publishing of the year! Hope y'all had a good holiday season despite everything that's happening at the moment... Wishing everyone an amazing 2022! And sorry, updates are slow but I’m workin :,)
✽ Betas: Thank you so much @jessikahathaway and @jjksblackgf for reading this over for me!!
No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D
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You didn’t get much sleep that night. It would be a little weird if you did.
So much happened to you. Your mind was spinning, still wondering if everything you experienced was real. You tried to convince yourself by every possible means that this was all some kind of really weird dream and all would be normal when you wake up.
Every minute of your day was more real than you could have imagined. But you didn’t know that, or more like you didn’t want to know that.
If it was real it means you nearly died and a man manifested out of nowhere into your apartment who was currently sleeping on your bed.
You wanted there to be an answer, an explanation, anything to make sense of this. The impossible has happened. You, of all beings in the universe, had experienced the impossible.
So many questions were bouncing around in your head but one shined more than the others.
What was going to happen in the morning? What the fuck was going to happen once he wakes up? You were worried, concerned, but worst of all, you were scared. You were literally fearing for your life as you stared up at the ceiling. Your mind was so loud, filled with a dread you couldn’t describe. It was worse than earlier, facing your mortality was one thing, but it really felt like you made it to the end of the line.
He was here for a reason. Despite his angelic appearance your mind couldn’t help but take a dark turn.
It was because of all of this that you were able to see the sky light up, turning from a starry void to a light blue hue, and the sun slowly began to peek through your windows. You didn’t really fall asleep, more so passed out eventually at some point in time.
Even that was a stretch.
Your mind was plagued with nightmares the entire time you were out.
There was one time. You thought you woke up to find Jimin standing right above you, just staring, waiting, ready to drag you back to wherever he came from.
It was a hell unlike no other.
You were only able to sleep for 3 hours before your eyes shot wide open. You quickly checked your phone and saw it was 10:30. You looked around and saw your apartment as lifeless as it typically was.
Was it all a dream?
You hurriedly got up and went to your room. As soon as you saw the door was slightly closed your heart dropped, a quick peek inside was all you needed to reaffirm that yesterday happened.
There Jimin was, your comforter barely covering his frame. His torso was almost fully on display, he laid in a way that made it obvious how amazing his physique was, and your eyes couldn’t help but trail down further to his toned thighs. The only thing that was left to the imagination was where it mattered, but you couldn’t stress this enough, it just barely covered things up.
Holy shit what were you doing?!
You quickly evaded your eyes and closed the door behind you.
There’s a naked man in your room. Last night wasn’t a dream.
Oh boy…
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
Jimin awoke to a loud bang. His eyes shot open and almost like an instinct he sat up and looked around. That’s when he felt it, an intense throbbing in his head.
He didn’t think about it at all and was so worried about what happened to you that he got up without thinking and fell straight on his face. He heard hurried footsteps and what shocked him so much was you, you… you were looking at him.
“Jimin?!” You panicked.
Did—Did you just say his name?
Jimin slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes. You were looking at him…
You got down on the ground to help him up. “Are you ok? What happened?”
“You can see me?”
“Yes I can, we went through this yesterday– You remember yesterday right?” As soon as you said that he thought back to the previous day and the memories slowly started to come back. He remembered going to sit with you on the couch when everything went black, suddenly he was looking up at you and you were looking back at him, the sickness, the nausea, everything it all came back.
“I do… I–” Jimin had to lean back, that stupid headache making it a bit hard to sit straight but the information was too much to take in as well. What the fuck is happening to him?
It hit him. Whatever it was way more serious than what it initially appeared. Jimin somehow managed to manifest into the normal plane, completely out of his control, he was sick, he went to sleep. Angels don’t fall asleep for fucks sake. He has never slept in all the time since he awakened.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?” You asked, noticing he was starting to breathe heavily.
“Y/n this is bad, this is so bad. I don’t know what’s happening to me?!” Jimin panicked and you knew he was on the verge of breakdown.
This may have not been the smartest decision, but you pulled him into an embrace. “Hey it’s going to be ok. We’ll figure this out.”
Will you? Jimin couldn’t even feel the angelic energy coursing through his veins anymore. He knew it was there, but it was so diminished he could hardly sense his other half.
“Y/n you don’t understand–”
“You’re right I don’t understand, but I do understand that you aren’t well. I can’t have you getting yourself worked up and making whatever’s wrong worse.” You could still feel how warm he was.
This couldn’t be real, none of this. You, your arms around him. Jimin was too sick to think clearly, but all he wanted to do was feel you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tightly. This didn’t feel real whatsoever.
Isolation, screaming in a void from the world being unfair, now he can touch you. Has his prayers been answered, was this real?
Holding you close like this finally made him realize he was still very much so naked. He pushed you back slightly before grabbing a hold of the sheets to cover himself. He could practically feel the words on his wrist burning.
It wasn’t here, he could feel it, but he knew that his other half would have been scolding him already for being this way. This is an emergency situation and all he can focus on was how nice your body felt against his.
It was sin.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry… I just ran in here without thinking.” You apologized. “I’ll give you some time to put your clothes back on. I was actually making us breakfast if you think you can eat.”
“Yeah, I’ll be out there.” Jimin gave you a soft smile. Did he eat? No, like everything else he hasn’t been hungry since he died for the last time. He would eat occasionally, but was there ever a need? No, never. Today though it was weird, he wasn’t starving by any means, but that urge was there. Just another thing to worry about…
You got up to get things ready but your feet stopped you before you made it out the door. “Hey Jimin…”
He hummed as he hopped back on the bed.
“What are you…? You're not here to hurt me, right?”
Jimin looked at you like you were crazy. “As your guardian angel, the last thing I would want to do is hurt you.” The name made him cringe, that wasn’t exactly what he was but it was always the simplest way to get humans to understand what he does.
“Why are you here?”
“Something’s wrong with me… I don’t know how I ended up here.” He couldn’t lie to you, especially since this involves you as well. You were in danger now because of this fluke.
You turned around and smiled before walking out and closing the door behind you.
…
You’re in danger because of him. If he’s not watching over you then…
Jimin hurriedly got dressed before bursting the door. You were standing there with a plate in hand as you were moving it to the counter.
“Jimin what’s–” He shushed you as he scanned around the room. Something was off, very very off. He waited a few seconds, feeling, knowing they were here. They would have to be here, you were a human unguarded. The amount of activity from them during the short breaks guardians would take sometimes was astounding.
Jimin’s had that position sometimes and it was even busier than when he’d be watching over a human himself. Those breaks would only last a few minutes in the normal plane, but Jimin’s been out for 12 hours at least.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
“Y/n don’t move.”
“Why–”
That’s when he felt it, that slit ripple in the fabric of this plane. The evil trying to climb through, it was slight but massive in comparison to what he would normally feel.
Jimin grabbed his handle from his pocket.
“Y/n get down, don’t look up no matter what, ok. Stay behind the counter.” You didn’t think twice and dropped to your feet.
How he was going to do this was far beyond him. His angelic energy was diminished to a degree he had never seen before, he was as good as human, but it’s one thing he knows for sure that will allow him to make it through this alive is you. He’s not letting these monsters anywhere near you.
He swore to protect you, shitty feeling or not he will see that promise through.
No matter what.
Jimin turned the rings on his handle and it split in half, forming two smaller handles, which then formed with angelic light became two small smgs. His diminished angelic energy didn’t allow for anything more. He was going to find a way, he trained and defeated enemies with less.
Jimin took a deep breath. The rift was getting even bigger and you, his human, you were terrified. You were never meant to see this. He gathered up the anger and by using his wings to push himself forward, he was able to break through the rift.
It was worse than what he thought. In this endless, white void it was filled with horrendous creatures hording around the rift, with their target all being you. Now that he’s gone through, it was even easier for them to break out. He had to defeat them.
Jimin lifted the guns, quickly analyzing the best course of action to handle this situation. Most would lead to being overtaken, and others he knew he didn’t have the energy to pull it off. There was only one that gave him some sort of fighting chance.
He aimed at the one in the center, the quick shots of light were able to take it down relatively quickly. The shots aggravated the horde and Jimin quickly flew up to avoid being crushed. The distraction was enough, and even though he was wobbly, he managed to fly behind the herd. From there he took out a few of the larger ones in the back that would be too hard for him in this state to take on by hand. It was the last final push before he turned the dials on his guns and brought them together again to form a handle with light beams coming from both ends.
This was a hard conjugation, but he needed melee. A greater distance would be better but he didn’t have the energy to keep shooting. He’s already taken out the most worrisome ones, the weaker ones were the only ones to remain now. The risk comes now, while there were only smaller weaker opponents left, the amount he had to defeat was immense. Hundreds probably swarmed him from all angles.
His head hurt like crazy and it was taking everything in his power to keep this conjugation going, but he was going to do this. You were right on the other side of that rift, he had to take them down.
They swarmed, charging toward him, while Jimin got in his battle stance. Ignoring the throbbing in his head, he took the staff and as soon as they got into distance he started swinging. All it took was one touch of the light to see the creatures burn, shrivel up, and die. He was strategic, using his eons worth of training to keep them at a reasonable distance. He conserved energy when needed and used it when he must. Despite the odds, Jimin was skilled, one of the best fighters of the human reincarnates.
Celine and Atara used to say it was because of their teachings as before… well before they were also some of the best. Jimin knew the real reason though. There was something so satisfying about crucifying your enemy, hearing it scream, wail, squirm, seeing its dark flesh burn with purity before turning into ash.
Jimin liked it so much he worked harder to make sure he could hear it every time.
This time things were different. There was no way none of these demonic hell spawns would ever make it to you. You were his pure flower, Jimin’s hard work over the years has made it so you were hardly tainted. Whatever this ailment was, there was no way it was going to come in the way of protecting you from these monsters.
Jimin fought with an intensity he knew he didn’t have the energy for, but these demons were making him upset and they were going to feel it.
After a little while, he made it toward the less of them. All it took was a couple more swings and all that surrounded him was piles of ash. Jimin let himself fall to the ground, the effects of the battle finally taking its toll. His head hurt so much, a throbbing even worse than before echoed in his head.
You were fine, that’s all that matters.
Jimin turned toward the rift ready to assess the damage, it was so large that he knew it would need a little bit of repairing, but his eyes widened to find he missed one. Instead of heading for him, it was going straight toward the rift.
It was right there.
Jimin used all his energy to fly over as quickly as he could. It was practically at the rift before Jimin grabbed its wings and threw it on the ground.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Jimin’s voice was calm but all he could feel was rage. How dare it try and get to you?
The creature made a weird sound as Jimin got on top of it. It was clear the slam on the ground stunned it, but that didn’t stop him from taking a seat right on its chest.
This creature was weird looking like all of the rest of them. Its face was distorted, eyes where they shouldn’t be, mouths where they shouldn’t be, and its face was in the shape of a flower. It had a long neck, with a thin tiny body, short legs, and little wings on the back. It was awful.
“How dare you try and touch her…” Rage, malice filled his voice. Jimin held it down, making sure to stare it right in the face.
“You disgusting creature, trying to go after what’s mine.”
Jimin grabbed his handle, turned the dials to make a small knife from the light. He brought it over his head.
“How dare you…” He brought it down, slamming the knife right in its face. It screamed. He took it back out and did it again, and again, and again…
“HOW DARE YOU!!!” Jimin screamed into the void. He kept going until all that was left of the creature of a pile of black. The knife wasn’t enough to burn the creature, but it did lose its form.
Jimin could see it, once the creature had melted down, and all that remained was a black tar-like substance, he could see that look in his eye. He went too far, didn't he?
He didn’t think too much about it though and got up, he managed to crucify what remained of the creature and it was finally then, after one good look around was he able to breathe again. He did it. Everything was going to be ok.
Jimin fell to his knees, the throbbing getting even worse. He’s so tired…
After a few minutes he was able to pick himself back up and examine the rift. It was going to need his help to close it.
Jimin sat down, unable to stand at this point. He brought his hands together before slowly pulling them apart again to form a tiny string at the center of his palms. After it was long enough, he broke it off his hands and started to get to work. He was literally sewing together space and time. He didn’t do much, the pain in his head only allowing him to do the bear minimum before calling it a day.
The rift was all but gone to any other eye, but Jimin could see through the cracks and wished he could have done a better job. You though, were waiting on the other side and he was this close to collapsing.
Jimin crawled a good distance away before outstretching his wings again. With a good running start, he took charge straight for the rift easily able to make it past his needle work. Normally he liked to do this from the other side, but he didn’t want you to see him work on it, that would be too much for your eyes. Some might wonder, well how did he make it past if it was closed but angelic presence is able to transform into something small enough that it can fit past what demonic creatures can’t. It still would have been better to do it on the other side, but…
Your eyes stared straight ahead at the fridge that was right in front of you. You stayed still like Jimin asked, you never looked, you didn’t want to look but you definitely heard.
It was faint, very very faint, but you know you heard it. Screams. They sounded like they were in so much pain, a pain you didn’t even want to think about. You hoped it was whatever Jimin told you to be careful of, but at some point, you feared if Jimin was the one causing something to scream like that.
Nothing should ever scream like that…
Your mind was wandering and you were startled once you heard a crash happen behind the counter. Your body stilled and you felt like your heart would stop until you heard the quiet groan of Jimin.
You peaked your head around the corner to see Jimin struggling to get up off the floor, those beautiful wings you thought you dreamed were back, blood soaked his shirt, and the markings all over his skin glowed.
“Jimin?” You hesitantly said. He turned toward you and you were even more shocked to find that one of his eyes had changed to an enchanting blue color that seemed to glow.
What the fuck happened?
You got up slowly and made your way over.
“What—“
“It’s fine. Don’t worry, they’re gone.” He said, falling to the floor.
“I was going to say, what happened to you?”
His eyes locked on with yours.
“You seem… different, not to mention the blood…” You tried to smile, but in all honesty you were terrified.
Your question seemed to stun him.
“I took care of it. Just… a few battle scars, doesn’t even hurt…” His speech was starting to slur and you saw his eyes quickly closing. You hurried over and managed to catch him before his head hit the ground.
Things began to fade quickly after. The wings were gone, the markings went back to looking like tattoos, you even saw before his eyes closed, the blue one had returned back to brown.
Oh gosh… What are you going to do now?
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
Jimin’s eyes shot wide open, he quickly checked his surroundings to find that it had gotten dark and you were nowhere to be found. One quick look down the hall confirmed you were in the shower.
Jimin let himself relax knowing you were ok. It was then that he noticed a blanket had been nicely placed over his form and you had somehow managed to move him to the couch. His shirt was gone as well, but he noticed it was folded neatly on the coffee table. He hurriedly put it on before he could think about it too much.
He couldn’t ignore the way his heart seemed to skip two beats just thinking about you taking care of him. You cared, fuck, what was he doing?
This shouldn’t be happening.
Jimin stared up at the ceiling. He groaned at the cruelty of the situation. He’s finally living out his dream, but this shouldn’t be happening.
The only reason why he hasn’t wiped your memory and gone back to headquarters was the literal fact he couldn’t at the moment. Crossing planes takes a lot of energy, it’s another reason why angels don’t come to the normal plane unless it is assigned or they plan on staying for a while. It’s a bit of a task even in tip top condition, but whatever caused his power to drain, got it so low that he couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.
The good news was now he could feel it slowly starting to come back. It was weird, but whatever happened during that fight kick started it, and now he was ever so slightly able to feel his energy getting stronger. It was slow, probably is going to take a few days at least to return to normal levels, but at least it’s going somewhere.
Jimin worried though. He couldn’t fight anymore. He couldn’t.
That fight had drained him so much, there was no way he would be able to do it again. That was only half a day's worth of his post being unattended, but a few days would surely cause a literal tear and you would become horribly corrupted.
You wouldn’t even notice, but Jimin would see those horrible creatures he’d been fighting merge with your body. If a few hours can cause a buildup like that, a few days worth might corrupt your soul to the point you would be destined for hell.
Not on his watch.
What was he going to do?
Jimin sighed, letting the silence give him space to think.
….
…
…
Oh!
A blessing would work! It would ward away those nasty creatures long enough for Jimin to recover and return to his post. There was a problem though… Blessings need to be authorized.
They were only used for special case scenarios, a direct order from a higher up. Out of all the souls Jimin’s looked over, he could count on one hand the amount of blessings he’s handed out.
They would understand right? Eventually when he makes it back to headquarters he would recount the weird occurrence and Jimin would explain the blessing was out of necessity to protect you.
Right… it was simple, they would understand. He didn’t really have much of a choice…
It was a few minutes later that you came out of the bathroom. You had changed for bed, with a towel around your neck. It was another one of those moments that despite the desperate situation, he was reminded once again of his stupid feelings for you.
There’s something wrong with him.
Your attention turned to him after you closed the door behind you.
“Jimin! You’re finally up again!” You smiled and made your way over to the couch. It was fake, you were scared of him, he knew that.
“I… I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” He could tell by the look on your face that you weren’t expecting him to say that.
“Don’t even try and say you aren’t scared, I know. I don’t blame you from what you saw today. You were never meant to see any of this.” He felt bad. It was because of his fuck up that you were in this situation in the first place.
You took a seat beside him.
“I will admit, all of this has been a lot… A lot, a lot actually. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around everything and that’s why I’m so afraid. It’s nothing against you, don’t blame yourself. You seem just as confused as I am, you’re probably scared too.” You reached out and put your hand on top of his with that sweet smile on your face. It was genuine.
This was awful. Jimin doesn’t have a body, what you’re seeing is what he wants you to see. He isn’t human at all, but somehow you manage to make his nonexistent heart skip a couple beats. This was dangerous…
You were right. He was scared.
“I don’t know how you’re making it. You’re always so brave.” You smiled at the compliment.
“You speak like we’ve known each other…?” You giggled.
“We do… or I know you at least. I’ve watched over you for a little while now— uh not in the weird way! That sounds so creepy, but like… I’ve protected you from afar.” Jimin tried to save the situation, but he just made himself more and more flustered.
That was a lie, he’s definitely overstepped what he should have seen on more than a few occasions.
You laughed at this. “I don't think there's a way to not make that sound creepy, but I know what you mean. Thank you, for protecting me that is…”
Jimin could have melted right there.
“I guess I got a glimpse of it earlier, but if you’re seriously going through all that all the time for me… you’re amazing. I don’t think there are words to really tell you how grateful I am.” You smiled and you definitely saw him staring at you like an idiot.
The burning was back, even worse than before. Sin, you were so much sin. Jimin held his wrist tightly as he watched you speak, the burning getting worse and worse with each word.
“I… thank you, no one really thanks us like that, until well… but I’m happy to serve you. You’re… you’re amazing.” It hurt at this point at how much the word burned on his wrist. What was he doing…
You smiled again, your face getting hot at the compliment.
Jimin knew this. He knew everything. Oh fuck, this was so bad.
He cleared his throat. “Well um, about protecting you… What I fought earlier will come back and I’m not really in the condition to fight them. I’m getting better, I can feel it, but I have a proposition to protect you in the meantime…” You looked at him intrigued as he spoke.
“I’m all ears~”
“Uh— well, I could bless you. The blessing would take a lot of my energy, but it would be powerful enough to make sure those things don’t come after you till I can get back to my position. Does that sound ok?”
You looked away, thinking for a second. “Sounds good!”
“Are you fine with me staying here with you? This would set me back a few days, but I should be better hopefully within the next week.” You didn’t think about it this time.
“Of course you can stay! Who am I to turn you away~” You laughed at the thought and he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.
You closed your eyes and leaned forward. “Alright, bless me Mr. Angel~” You said happily and waited.
Seeing you like that in front of him made Jimin remember exactly how he does this. His face suddenly turned 50 shades of red and those 3 letters were burning harder then ever.
“I, uh, I probably should have explained how I do it before I had you agree…” Jimin was suddenly extremely embarrassed and even you seemed to pick up on this.
“Uh, it’s not gonna hurt right?” You asked wearily.
“No! No, not at all, just ummm…” Oh fuck, oh fuck… This was so much easier when they couldn’t see him. This made everything 10x more awkward.
“Me— uh— In order to bless you, I uh… need to…”
“What is it?” You finally cut in.
“Kissyourcheek—“ The words finally came out. His face was so red at this point, you would have thought he just asked to have sex with you. For fucks sake, it wasn’t even on the mouth, but for him this was almost just as bad. It was sin, sin with a purpose, but still sin nonetheless considering who’s the recipient.
“Is that— uh— is that ok?” He asked timidly.
His shyness seemed to be affecting you as well as you as you got all hot when he said it.
“That’s fine, I mean, yeah if that’s how you do it, go for it.” You eventually smiled. You turned your head a little and closed your eyes once again.
Jimin felt his own face heat up and the sin on his wrist burn. It’s fine, just don’t think about it.
He kept his grip tight on his wrist as he leaned in. If anyone would have been watching they would have thought they were shooting for some kdrama at the level of intensity he was making this quick kiss on the cheek seem.
It wasn’t a big deal.
Jimin’s lips finally connected with your cheek and you couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered at the feeling. His lips were soft and you didn’t know if it was the blessing or this is just what a kiss from an angel feels like, but an electric feeling of warmth spread throughout your entire body. It was nice… comfort, a warm hug in a way no normal person could give.
Jimin pulled away and lingered a little too close to your face for too long. His eyes looked right into yours before drifting further to land on your lips. He wanted to so bad…
It was one of those intrusive thoughts. Your lips on his, making out like crazy, with your hands all over him… you would feel and taste so good. Later he would have those same pretty lips around his…
Ok. Ok, he’s actually lost his damn mind.
The pain in his wrist was too much at this point.
Jimin hurriedly pulled away fully and made sure to avoid your eyes. An awkwardness quickly fell over the room.
“Uh, was that it?” You finally asked.
“Yep, you’ll be protected now.”
Silence…
“Ummm, did you want something to eat? I was gonna give you breakfast earlier, but, well, you know what happened. I can make us dinner!” You offered.
Jimin looked over.
‘Us…’
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot actually.” Jimin smiled.
And so you got to work. Jimin took a seat at your little table and in between a little small talk, soon you were opening your steamer to reveal the Korean dumplings you made.
Jimin’s eyes widened and he could practically feel you beaming at your creation. You happily served him a plate and eagerly awaited his reaction.
One bite in and he swore he died and came back. It was the first time he’s eaten something with a purpose and it made everything seem different.
“This is amazing…” He made sure to tell you and you couldn’t be happier.
Jimin was in a good mood and managed to shake away that awkwardness that still lingered. A quick look at the time told him that the show you always watch was about to come on. He made sure to let you know and you eagerly turned it on and this sparked conversation as the both of you were finally able to rant to each other about the content.
It's like something he would have dreamt of. You, this, normal…
The night really ended like a dream. The both of you asleep on the couch as the tv continued to play with a marathon of another show the both of you like. It was too normal, a dream, a dream that wasn’t meant to be his….
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
The next few days were uneventful. They were normal, which in Jimin’s case, was horrible. He started to get a little too comfortable being here with you. At some point in time he forgot, or more so, willingly ignored the fact that he was your guardian.
He was enjoying this fake reality a little too much.
It was a chance to see what could have been if he were human too and by your side. You were so sweet and attentive, caring for him even after he said he didn’t need it anymore.
Slowly but surely he started to lose the need to eat and sleep again. It was kinda funny how normally this would be a sign he was getting worse, but it was quite the opposite. He was going back to normal, his normal.
That still didn’t stop him from enjoying the moments when you’d give him food with the intention of making sure he gets better. You’d spend all night watching all the shows that Jimin would sit beside you and watch all without you knowing. The day would end with a good night's sleep. You would make it to your bed most of the time, but sometimes you would fall asleep right beside him on the couch just like that first night.
When he didn’t need to sleep anymore, that didn’t stop him from forcing himself to close his eyes to pretend. He wanted to keep this illusion going for as long as possible. It’s a feeling of normalcy that Jimin never craved till he met you.
Never once did he have a desire to be human again till you came into his life, and this, whatever this mistake was, it allowed him to see what that life could have been like. This was bad.
What are you doing?
Shut up… please, just shut up.
Do I even need to say anything at this point?
No you don’t, I know.
You must know we need to leave. Somethings wrong with you…
I know…
Leave, we must return to headquarters.
I just wanted to enjoy it a little longer.
Jimin had overstayed his welcome. In truth he was using a few of the extra days of the blessing to keep pretending. He could have left days ago at this point, but he didn’t want to leave you.
He was being selfish.
Jimin please, you know this isn’t right.
Just a little longer, I promise we’ll be back in headquarters soon.
Jimin turned his attention to you who was sitting on the floor, setting up a board game on your little coffee table. You were about to play a riveting game of monopoly, you already had the board out and you were busy organizing the cards and the different dollar bills.
“What piece did you want?” You got up and took a seat beside him on the couch. You opened your hands to reveal all of the original 8 pieces.
“I call the dog~” You smiled at him. Jimin looked around at all the pieces and ultimately decided to go with the thimble, a good representation of what he does exactly.
“That’s an interesting choice~” You said as he picked up the piece from your hand.
He smiled. “It felt right…” He examined the piece further as you put the other 6 pieces down.
“Hey look— since you picked the thimble we can…” You moved your dog so it sat underneath the thimble, making it look like a hat. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, finding it a lot more amusing than you should.
Jimin wasn’t paying any attention, his eyes being trained to your smiling form. His eyes darted straight down to your lips. You eventually noticed he didn’t say anything and saw where his gaze was going.
It was a moment. A real moment, not one he conjured up but he saw your eyes drift downward as well. You both even started leaning in, only inches apart, before Jimin finally came to his senses and realized what he was about to do.
A quick blow was enough to knock you out. Jimin sat there in misery as you slowly came to again. Your eyes quizzically looked around the room, your gaze focused on the monopoly board.
You looked down in your hand to find the dog piece and in the other you found the thimble.
You sneezed.
Maybe that cold medicine was a bit too strong, had you deliriously trying to start a monopoly game before you passed out.
You sighed and got up to go shower.
Jimin still remained on his place on the couch, you looked right in his direction. Instead of the joyous few days he’s gotten to spend with you, you were back to square one. You looked right through him.
It hurt worse than what he remembered as you got up and paid him no mind.
You know this is for the better.
Jimin got up and flew to the building across from yours once more. He couldn’t be in a room with you right now. It just hurt too much.
All was supposed to be well, he fixed everything. He was right back in his post, you couldn’t see him, and you don’t even remember the last few days. It was like he was never there.
All that was left was to go back to headquarters and figure out what caused this freak accident in the first place.
Jimin…
He couldn’t do it.
A taste was too much, how was he going to go back to being just nothing to you?! Beforehand you were a dream, all it was in his imagination and he was fine with it. A respective distance that kept him despite how strong his feelings were, but now…
That smoke and mirrors were gone. That wasn’t his imagination, for a few days he was something to you, and for fucks sake, he was about to kiss you. Your lips were right there…
All of that happens and he’s just supposed to pretend it didn’t and go on with his life?! Excuse him for taking this a little hard…
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
The next few days were even worse. Jimin and you steadily got back into a routine. He would guard the post, fight monsters, and hang with you for a little bit. You just continued through like nothing happened, because to you, nothing did.
Jimin wishes he could wipe his own memory, it would make things so much easier.
What was he going to do? Getting through each day was getting harder and harder and he was coming close to going back to the normal plane and reintroducing himself.
Jimin stared at you. You were watering the little plants you kept on your tiny balcony. He flew so he was standing next to you.
“This is unfair.” He sighed for the untheenth time.
Jimin, stop.
Jimin let his eyes trail over your form. You were wearing an adorable sundress with a happy smile painting your features. You had no idea the suffering you were causing him.
“I wish there was a way… I just… I wish I could go back to before—“ It was a cry out into the void. You wouldn’t hear, no one would.
Stop torturing yourself. That’s a dream, let’s end this.
…
That was it!
He may not be able to meet you, but what’s the harm in meeting you in your dreams? It wouldn’t cause trouble and Jimin would be able to spend more time with you!
That’s it, this is it—
He couldn’t put too much more thought into it before suddenly he wasn’t looking at you watering your plants, but in a giant canister in the center of a dark room.
Jimin looked around confused for a second before 3 higher up P1 angels emerged from the darkness. They were tall amassing astounding heights. All they appeared in this form was a long golden robe with a glowing white ball where their heads should be and a giant, golden ring hovering above this ball. The born angels were a lot different than the human reincarnates.
‘Jimin.’ A voice said, yet no words were actually spoken.
‘I’m sure you know why you’re here.’ A different voice said.
Jimin just stared, terrified. There was so much they could be reprimanding for.
‘I thought you were different.’
‘You were one of the best’
‘What happened to him?’
“I… I’m sorry” Jimin fell to his knees.
Suddenly a light in the distance came on to reveal the rest of his team members standing over to the side. The look of worry on their faces made him feel even worse.
‘How dare you bless a human without proper authorization?!’ A booming voice reverberated in his head.
Jimin couldn’t even look up anymore.
‘ANSWER ME’
“I had to…” He quietly whispered.
‘You didn’t have to do anything’
‘Why did you do it?’
Jimin was terrified, more scared than he had ever been in his life, but he was also degranged. He wasn’t going to tell them about the last few days. What might they do if they found out? It would certainly save his ass in this situation, but Jimin was willing to suffer if that means he could go back to you after this.
“I had my reasons, I promise.”
‘Oh, and what possibly could have been the reason to give an unauthorized blessing to a human?’
“It was for the greater good.”
‘He’s not talking…’
‘Jimin, is this how you really want to be? We believe you, you’ve been one of the best reincarnates and you wouldn’t disobey the rules for something trivial. Why won’t you tell us what happened?’
“I believe that makes it justified. You know my character and I wouldn’t do it for the sake of just doing it. I had my reasons, please understand I can not go into the situation any further.”
‘Since when did he start talking back to us?’
Jimin normally was so obedient, this was odd. Even other human reincarnates would make fun of him sometimes for being so uptight.
‘Is that your final answer?’
“Yes.”
‘Very well then…” Suddenly the canister opened up into the room. A mysterious force pushed him forward so he was standing in the center of the room. It was within a blink of an eye that his shirt was removed and wrist were tied up with a long golden rope to a wooden board.
One of the P1 angels walked a little and shrank to a size closer to Jimin.
‘Jimin, in the name of an unauthorized blessing, you are sentenced to 1000 lashings. We expect you to count.’ The punishment was honestly tame. He knew they were only giving him this much leeway because of his previous track record. They believed him and that’s all that matters.
The P1 angel already had a whip on hand, one made of angelic light.
Jimin didn’t even watch as he heard the whip crack and eventually the stinging burn of purification. It hurt, hurt so badly, but he relished in it. Maybe he might get some sense back and do what’s right.
“1…”
Another hard crack right in the center of his back, making his body contort as the pain seemed to travel all throughout his body.
“2…..”
He needs to repent. How dare he lie to his higher ups just because he wants to be able to go back down and meet you again? He’s putting his entire team's reputation at risk.
And another one. This one the burning was even worse.
“3...”
It was sin. He’s actually losing his mind.
“4...”
CRACK
“5..”
Repent, drive whatever humanly urges you have for y/n out and purify. Feel and embrace the burn.
CRACK
“6..”
Embrace it and understand. Only then will you be able to move on.
CRACK
“7.”
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
Jimin walked over to his teammates. He couldn’t feel his back anymore, and even he could see the drops of blood as he slowly made his way toward them before he just collapsed right in front of them.
“Jimin?!” The whole group hurried over to catch him.
Taehyung, who was moved behind him, noticed how badly his back was severely burned.
“I don’t understand…” He said aloud at the sight.
No one could. This was so unlike him. First the rule breaking and then concealing information from the higher ups?
Jimin just laughed. The rest of the group couldn’t help but feel a little unsettled.
“Is—Is it that bad?” He asked, still chuckling.
Namjoon got down on his knees and grabbed him by the shoulders, not caring whatsoever the bandages on his hands were getting soaked with blood.
“This isn’t a fucking joke, what is wrong with you?!” Namjoon was angry. He could hardly believe this was the same guy that he’s been on the same team with. This wasn’t Jimin.
Everyone followed Joon’s lead and got on the floor, waiting for some type of explanation.
This seemed to entertain Jimin even more because he just started laughing even harder. It was maniacal, like he really did lose his mind or something, but even the laughing couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. The laughs turned to cries as he looked at his team’s concerned faces.
“It hurts so much, I don’t know what I’m doing…” His voice was quiet.
They haven’t left the dark room yet, that spotlight still being the only thing lighting up the area. The P1 angels were long gone, they left as soon as Jimin made it to 1000. It was just them now.
“Yoongi will help you as soon as you tell us what’s going on. Why did you bless her?” Namjoon said calmly. He was trying his best to remain cool, calm, and collected, but seeing Jimin like this was really testing his abilities as the leader.
“I had to… It was the only way to protect her.” He confessed.
“What do you mean, you were at your post, weren’t you?” Seokjin asked.
Jimin just shook his head, a weird smile on his face. “Something happened… I had to do it. It was the only way.”
Everyone looked around at each other confused, waiting for some sort of explanation, but that’s where he stopped.
“You’re not gonna tell us what happened?” Yoongi finally questioned.
“I like her and that’s the problem.” It wasn’t exactly the answer to the question but it was all at the same time. All of this was because of these stupid feelings. “I have these feelings that I can’t explain, but it’s something I know I should never be feeling for the human I look after.”
If everyone was confused, they had no clue what he was going on about.
“Wait so…” Jungkook started. “What do you mean you like her, like you…?”
“Yes. I don’t know why, I thought they said it shouldn’t be possible anymore. But I know what I feel for her is the same way a human would. It’s the reason for everything.”
The group was just struggling to conceptualize this. It really shouldn’t be possible whatsoever. It’s not like they were emotionless, but that connection just was not possible as an angel.
“I didn’t want to say anything to the higher ups, but you guys… I couldn’t just say nothing. I can’t tell you what happened either but just know it was because of that that I couldn’t tell them. I don’t understand what’s happening to me, but please just… let me go.” Jimin was begging and pleading that they wouldn’t ask too many more questions.
Everyone looked at each other. This was really something they should report, for Namjoon especially as the leader, he was in charge of logging odd occurrences like these. It was a crossroad, does he choose his role as the leader, or put their brotherhood first?
There really was no question to which one he would choose.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Namjoon asked, pulling Jimin in for a hug. He could feel Jimin flinch slightly at the contact.
“No, but I’ve got this under control. Don’t worry about me.” He knew they were going to, but he just hoped it was enough to calm their nerves.
Namjoon looked at him and could tell he was being genuine. “Alright, as long as you don’t get into any more trouble and not let this situation get in the way of doing your job properly. If I hear about anything else, I’m logging it.” Jimin smiled at the leader's words.
He truly didn’t deserve them.
Yoongi quickly moved so he was sitting behind Jimin. “I can’t do much since this is meant to be a punishment and that’s against the rules. I can make the pain go away long enough to get you back to her. Please don’t do anything stupid.” He sighed as he hovered his hands over the wounds and a faint glow appeared, one that quickly made the burning and bleeding start to fade.
“I remember we all thought she was pretty but… feelings?” Hoseok was just thinking out loud.
“Was it a recent thing?” Jungkook asked, a bit too curious to know.
Jimin shook his head. “I’ve felt this way for a while, but a certain situation made things change to a degree I’m still trying to get used to.”
“How would that even work?” Taehyung asked. Jimin looked over and frowned. “I mean, she can’t even see you… I don’t know about you, but I think that’s a problem.”
“It is, isn’t it…” Jimin got up as soon as he felt Yoongi put his hands down. Everyone collectively panicked when they saw him nearly fall over.
“Anyway, I better get back.” He sighed and started trying to put some distance between him and the group.
“Uh, so soon? You didn’t want to leave with us?” Seokjin asked as he saw Jimin’s halo appear and he reached up and grabbed it.
“I would but I wasn’t planning to leave. Y/n’s already been left unattended long enough. I didn’t plan to leave…” That really wasn’t an excuse and they knew it.
Jimin threw the halo up. It took a few seconds for the small ring to expand and in the center opened up a portal.
“I’ll see you guys at the meeting soon, alright?” The boys were all giving him weird looks but waved nonetheless.
Jimin smiled at them before expanding his wings and flying through the ring.
He had to get out of there quickly. The words on his rib were burning too much to have him stay any longer.
‘LIAR’
He couldn’t stand the thought of lying to them. They were the last people in any universe he’d want to lie to, but it was a must. This was definitely the stupidest thing he’s done in all of his existence.
Jimin’s never been so disobedient, not even a beating like that from the P1 angels has swayed his feelings. Repenting wasn’t working like he hoped it would, if anything it’s made him even more sure he’s lost his mind.
Feelings were definitely weird…
Before he knew it, he was flying out to right outside your building. You were standing outside, the sun had changed only slightly. It had probably been 30 minutes at most, for him he had been gone from you for days.
Jimin flew and landed right beside like he had been all that time ago.
You were happily looking at the sun set, the lighting giving you a heavenly glow that outrivaled angels. You were beautiful, gorgeous, and no matter how much everything was telling him not to be, he was pulled in.
Captivating.
It made the crossroad obvious. Jimin could obey his leader, push these feelings away, and continue his job like normal. Jimin could also go the complete opposite way and attempt to meet you again, for a chance. It wouldn’t be the same as being with you in person, but it was enough.
If what happened didn’t prove he was crazy, the choice he made surely did.
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
You went to bed pretty early today. You had no reason, you called off of work for tomorrow, taking one more day to recover, you were just eager to get in the bed and sometime in the middle of your tv binge you fell asleep.
You opened your eyes once again to find you weren’t in your room, but a beautiful endless field of flowers. The sky was so blue and little puffs of clouds rolled over the land. You looked down too and noticed the white, flowy sundress, but you weren’t wearing any shoes.
You smiled at the sight.
So you were having this kind of dream~
You followed your first instinct and ran through the flowers, a sense of freedom that you know would never be possible in real life. You enjoyed every second of it. A child like feeling that felt almost nostalgic. Wonder, amazement, oh fuck how nice was this dream?
Everything was so vivid too~
It was then that you in fact realized that you knew the fact you were dreaming.
‘Hey, had Somi’s lucid dreaming guide actually worked?’ It was something she sent you and you read it before falling asleep.
You looked down at your hands and feet.
Ok so you were aware… could you—
You jumped and suddenly you were off the ground high enough to touch the clouds. You screamed before plummeting back down to the ground.
You got up, thankful that this was in fact a dream. Maybe flying wasn’t a good idea, especially with your fear of heights, apparently that didn’t even go away in your dream.
After brushing yourself you went back to running. Making it over a hill, you came to a clearing. It was incredibly flat compared to the rest of the field, and right there in the far distance was a tree.
Curiosity got the better of you and you ran toward it. Upon getting closer you noticed that there was someone underneath it.
Ok, welp, there goes your dream oasis.
You made it even closer and you felt your heart nearly stop. It was a beautiful man, oh my gosh.
So it was gonna be this type of dream.
You always knew your imagination was amazing, but holy hell were you so grateful to your amazing brain.
“Hi!” The mysterious beautiful stranger called out to you as you approached. You couldn’t help but get entranced by his smile, so kind…
“Hi!” You made it right next to him and he was even better up close. A glow to his skin unlike anything you had ever seen, he had dark brown hair that curled at the base of his neck, eyes that seemed to smile along with him, and those lips… All these features seemed to get enunciated by the outfit he was wearing. A dark olive green cardigan with only two of the buttons done up, covered a white button up that was also undone enough to slightly reveal those sexy collarbones. The outfit was completed by khaki colored slacks, rolled up at the ankles, and dark brown loafers you were sure you recognized from some expensive brand.
Oh your mind was something…
This is definitely the greatest dream you’ve ever had.
“I’m Jimin, it’s nice to see you made it~” He smiled at you.
He was waiting for you…
“It’s nice to see I made it to you, I was just kinda wandering. I would have come sooner if I knew you were waiting for me.” Real life y/n was the opposite of a flirt, but this is your dream and there were zero consequences here. Best believe you’re taking advantage of that.
You saw the cute way he seemed to get embarrassed by the comment.
“No worries, take a seat. I hope you don’t mind a picnic?~” He asked and showed you the red and white checkered blanket with the wicker basket sitting on top.
Cute, sexy, lovely guy was taking you on a date. Can this dream get any better?
You happily sat down and he took a seat next to you before turning away to dig through the basket.
“I brought some of your favorites and some of mine as well~” He cheesed and you smiled.
You looked around at the beautiful view. The clear blue sky contrasted perfectly with the green grass and the colorful flowers seemed to be the last detail to make this place perfect. You were in heaven.
“Would you like to start off with fried chicken or I have this dish that I really like, acquacotta con funghi? You probably never heard of it, but I think you may like it!”
Your attention turned back to him.
“Ooo we can try your dish, it sounds go—“ Your eyes trained to his back. A dark spot had started to form on the back of his cardigan. You couldn’t help yourself and reached out to touch it, you were shocked to find a reddish tint to your finger.
This was blood.
“Jimin… what’s this?” You asked and showed him your finger. He turned toward you and you couldn’t help but notice the panicked look in your face at your discovery.
“Don't worry about it. Now, did you say the acquacotta con funghi?” He tried to brush it off but you weren’t having it.
“Jimin, I’m worried.” You admitted out loud.
He sat back down next to you and smiled that same sweet smile he had when you came over.
“I’m your angel, there’s no need to worry~”
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#bts#btscreatorscorner#bangtanbathouse#jimin#angst#bts fanfic#jimin x reader#bts fanfction#jimin angst#angel au#bts angst#bts smut#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts jimin#bts au#bts fluff#bts reactions#jimin fanfic#jimin smut#jimin fluff#fluff
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If I’m the Big Spoon
Originally written September 2021
Masterlist
Genre: comfort
Ship(s): Asmodeus X MC
(genderless MC)
(requested)
Trigger/content warnings: this is specifically for comfort related to nightmares from PTSD related to sexual assault. Nothing graphic/described directly, but no before-the-cut paragraph for safety.
Headcanons/notes from the author: Take care of yourselves out there and remember it’s okay to ask for help❤️ I also really want to believe no one is going to mock Asmo being the comforter here, but I’ve had people do it before (sigh) so… being lustful doesn’t mean you condone nonconsensual actions.
Brief Blurb: MC has a nightmare and seeks Asmodeus for comfort.
You woke in an awful sweat, tears already streaming down your face. It was still fresh in your head, and the nightmares were only growing worse. None of the brothers really knew about what had happened to you... not exactly, anyways. They had a loose idea when you randomly snapped at them for invading boundaries they weren't aware of before. The only one you felt close enough to and told much about it to was the avatar of lust, Asmodeus.
At first when you learned what sin Asmo was meant to hold so closely to himself, you feared it would cause a repeat of events. Although, this never came to be. Heavily feeling lust didn't mean he condoned non-consensual activities... but he also seemed to keep it in check fairly well, especially compared to how his brothers dealt with their own sins. The only person that could beat him in containing their sin was Satan.
He seemed to feel violently protective of you since you mentioned anything non-consensual had happened to you. This included snapping at his brothers if they made any uncomfortable comments or touched you without asking first. It was strange to have someone care so much about you, especially in the Devildom, where literally anyone there could have you for a meal.
This particular night, you were too scared to sleep again. The nightmares were too much for you. Despite feeling guilty for it, you hastily got out of bed with your pillow pet and shuffled to Asmo's door, tears still rolling down your cheeks. "Asmo...?" you spoke quietly, tapping on his door. "A-Asmo... are you awake?"
After a moment of quiet, you could hear shuffling on the other side of the door. You were very relieved when the demon opened the door, quickly burrowing into his chest. "A-Ah, _____, are you okay?"
"A-Asmo..." you mumbled, crying still. "Nightmares..."
Carefully, he laid a hand on your back, quietly asking, "Is this okay?"
You looked up at him with wide, teary eyes. "M-My back is okay to touch."
He gave you a soft smile, then carefully lead you to a squishy chair in the corner of his room. His hand never left your back, carefully using it to guide you. "Sweetie, you should sit, 'kay?" You nodded and sat down, watching as he kneeled in front of you with his back facing you. "Will playing with my hair help?" He shook his head a little to show off his fluffy locks, making you weakly giggle through your tears.
You carefully played with his hair, the texture calming you down slightly. He wasn't always the best at comforting, which was fine... but this was definitely what you needed. "Asmo..." He hummed in response to his name. "Asmo, I... I'm sorry for bugging you..."
"Don't be silly, _____, it's fine." He yawned, then rubbed his eyes. "Honestly, I haven't been able to sleep tonight even though I feel so exhausted..." You furrowed your eyebrows, gently twisting his hair around your finger. "It's been like that recently, if I'm honest... not just tonight. It's making my skin unpretty..."
Hesitant, you asked him, "Would cuddling help?"
"Oh, I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Asmo smiled at you. "Besides, I'm more worried about you."
"N-No, I think cuddling will be fine if... if, um..." You blushed a little, wiping a few stray tears as you spoke. "If I'm the big spoon..."
Asmo perked up slightly, humming. "Still, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable..."
You stood, then helped him up and lead him to his bed, tossing your pillow pet on the pile of lush pillows he had before sitting with him and spooning him cautiously. You nuzzled your face into his neck, listening to his soft hum of joy. "This feels nice."
"Really? I didn't want to suggest it since—"
"Asmo," you mumbled, snuggling closer, "It's okay. I feel safe with you."
"Is it okay if I hold your hands?"
You giggled through a few more tears. "Of course."
He quietly held your hands in his own, which weren't much bigger than yours. "I'm always here for you, y'know..." Asmo told you quietly. "I know my biggest sin is... something disgusting... but..."
"It's not... um... lust itself that's disgusting."
Humming in thought, Asmo sighed and squeezed your hands. "I suppose you're right. It's the people that hurt others with it that are disgusting." He only dared move his head and hands while you held him, not wanting to scare you. "I'm glad you trust me enough to lay like this with me."
"I think out of all of you, you're my safest person," you admitted quietly. "Mammon made a pact with me first, sure... but you... are very caring." You kissed his jaw, then snuggled back into his neck.
"I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."
#darlingqueue#comfort#asmodeus x mc#mc x asmodeus#asmodeus#asmo#gn mc#mc#obey me! one master to rule them all#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me#omomtrta#omswd#om#fanfiction#fanfic#darlingficsbycinna#iwannawritelots
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remember when (m)
pairing: jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, soulmate!au, rich kid!au, convenience marriage!au, hurt/comfort, college!au (more details + warnings after read more) word count: 12,7k summary: A story about vulnerability and the lines we draw to avoid it. About soulmates, desires, setting yourself free. And, of course, a story about love and discovering exactly what it is. song recs: skin by mac miller and pure love by hayley williams
warnings: there are some mentions of drug use, brief mention of mental issues, bad parenting. just overall some subjects that might not be comfortable to read like i usually put on my fics but it's nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing graphics happens! disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. none of the events described are real or are an accurate representation of the people and brands named.
a/n: i would like to thank mary (neostains) for requesting this fic and cami (caiuscassiuss) for helping me with some informations about how ivy leagues work lol. this is my longest work so far, i think, and it’s a very special one. i hope you guys enjoy it!
✶
There was a time in your childhood where you remember being obsessed with princess movies. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, name a fairytale and you would have probably watched it a couple of times, entranced by the images playing on the newest television your father had bought.
Isn’t it fucked up that young girls are always fed this stereotypical image of love? It’s like a woman is not good for anything but to love someone, to be a half until she found the other and became whole. At 8 you ate that up like no one else.
At 11 your mother hires someone to give you a talk, about how the world worked and about the weird name that would appear in your arm once you turned 18. It feels like a lecture, the woman telling you about perfect matches, the probabilities of love and soulmates in a flat tone that didn’t make you feel as excited as you did watching the fairytales you used to like. When you tell your friends at school about it, they act surprised at the way you were told and instead, tell you about the stories about meeting your true love their own parents had shared.
At 15, your mother enrolls you in preparatory school, with full theatricals about intellects and getting into the best college possible so you can do your duty as heir of your father’s company when it becomes necessary.
It takes you a while, but you realize finally that love is nothing compared to money when you see for the first time that the name on your mother's wrist is not your fathers. Not long after that, you find out that for the sake of the company, you would be marrying Jung Jaehyun, heir of the second biggest automobilistic company in the country.
At 18 you think romance and love are trivial things.
⋄
NOVEMBER, 2013
It’s a harsh winter, one that makes your hands tremble and your head hurt more than usual.
You rub at your temples as you make your way down the hallway as students pass by you at the same pace as yours to get to their next class. A dreading routine, one that is so busy it leaves you with no time to think of anything else but the essay you have to write, or the grade you have been waiting to receive.
Today, though, your headache is so intense that your mind is filled with nothing but a black void.
Despite that, you walk in small steps to your literature lecture. Your bag feels as heavy as your head and the thick wool sweater you have on is barely enough to keep you warm, legs shivering from the stupid skirt they made you wear. Knee length, of course, but still a bother to sit and move.
Fuck boarding school, is what you think as you pass a group of boys talking loudly. One of them has a Harvard pin on his cardigan, you notice in the back of your mind. It only makes you feel sicker.
The first bell rings and you realize how slow you have been really walking. A faster pace, a muttered curse and then the second bells makes you feel like your ears are melting, headache increasing. Now you’re late, a rare occurrence that will probably not affect your records in any way, but still, makes you walk faster.
It all happens very fast. You turn into the corridor that leads to your classroom but not a second later you’re bumping straight into someone, books in your hand scattering to the floor and head spinning from the impact. It’s hard keeping your balance, but the harsh grip on your forearms helps and then you’re opening your eyes, that you didn't notice you had squeezed shut in the first place.
“Fuck, I’m really sorry.” The voice is familiar but the curse feels alien on your ears. Jung Jaehyun never curses, he has manners better than that. “I’m running late and walking too fast.”
He mumbles and you almost snort at the obviousness of it all. At the fact you were literally doing the same thing. “It’s okay. I should’ve been paying more attention.” There’s no reason for either of you to be apologizing, is what you think about as your hand immediately moves to your temple again in hopes pressing on it will cease the pain.
He’s looking right at you when you finally meet his eyes. His face is painted with embarrassment, the red hue on his ears a dead giveaway. He doesn’t keep eye contact for more than five second, instead moving to pick up your books for you. “Still, I’m very sorry.” He sounds polite, as always. The curse from before is still fresh on your mind.
You had met Jung Jaehyun at the age of 9, not that you remember exactly how it went. Some random brunch where you and him sat side by side as your mothers talked about whatever was happening seven years ago. You remember your old nanny being there, and how she asked sweetly if you would like more juice. You remember missing her when she got fired three weeks later for unrelated matters that were never told to you. And that’s about it.
After that, the years passed with Jaehyun being a weird presence in your life. The rich kids ran in the same circles, that didn’t take you a long time to realize and wherever you went he was there too.
German classes at 11, the birthday party of the daughter of someone you didn't know at 12, etiquette classes at 13. An event for your father's company at 14, one of his fathers at 15 and now at 16, attending the same boarding school and having to meet each other like this, with awkward smiles and polite conversation. Because navigating a relationship you didn't know the other very well, but too well at the same time was a weird thing to do.
Jung Jaehyun was like you, but at the same time he wasn't. You were friends but at the same time merely acquaintances.
But this you remember vividly: him asking you random things at german classes and making you laugh with his awkward pronunciation. Him eating cake by your side at the birthday party, covering his lips before he asked you if you like chocolate or vanilla more. Him making fun of you quietly for dropping down your fork loudly in the middle of etiquette class. Him standing awkwardly by your side while you got reprimanded by your mother during the event, for not properly remembering the name of a lady that came to greet you, your head down as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him.
And then, his father clapping yours on the back after they talked about how lovely it would be if someday the two of you got married to join economic forces. No, not someday. When you two got married.
You, pretending he didn't exist after that day, because you realized that this too you wouldn't get to decide.
Jaehyun clears his throat, hands you your books. “How is your father?” He asks, a stupid question to ask when you're both late. A stupid question to ask, period.
You try not to grimace. “He's okay. Alive.” And then he’s chuckling lowly, awkwardly.
“That’s good, no company to run at 16 then.” He tries to joke and it's amusing, in a way that for someone else might not be. But you two are the same, at least when it comes to this.
“And hopefully never.” A stupid thing to hope for, but still he smiles at you.
Then the moment is over, the third alarm sounds and both your eyes shoot open and you’re muttering goodbyes before heading to your classes.
Your head still hurts, but you don’t feel as cold anymore.
⋄
2015
Anticipation, isn’t that just a fancier word to describe the gut feeling that something is going to happen? Worst yet when you know exactly what it is, but have no possible ways of knowing the possible outcome.
There’s a window behind your advisor, with a view to the field where the lacrosse team practices. You watch it with a lack of interest as the older lady flips through pages and more pages of what is possibly your future.
No, not possibly. Definitely your future. Because at least to this, you knew the only outcome possible.
It’s a pretty day, one that shouldn’t be spent inside a room with wood furniture and shelves and more shelves of books, that are almost as many as the certificates on the wall. Not when it also happens to be your birthday.
“This is a really good essay, ___. You have a talent with words.” Your advisor breaks the silence in a flat voice despite it being a compliment. It makes your eyes immediately refocus on her but she gives you no time yet to reply. “I am sure the admission team will read it with interest.”
“Thank you.” A polite smile reaches your lips. She was never much of a praiser, not that she needed to be. Your last name carried all the confidence you needed to have for a thing like this.
And, perhaps the interest they would be having would be exactly about that. What does the only heir of the biggest automotive company in the country have to offer for Stanford? Probably a lot, with a weight that heavy on her shoulders.
“You have started applications to only two schools, are you sure you would not like to add more?” Now she says it in a weirdly soft tone. Persuasion, because it would look good for the school that one of their best students accepted to all the ivy leagues. Your GPA would make sure of that, but that's not all.
“I don’t see the point. Stanford has always been my only choice.” You say it as nicely as possible because this is an old conversation.
“I see, well. This is it then, there's a few other students interested in attending Stanford too." She smiles bitterly, gathering the papers and putting it back on their respective folders. "But the chances of you getting in are very good. I'm sure all your hard work will pay off.”
You go to thank her but at that moment there's a pinch on your arm that leaves you distracted. It's followed by a weird burning sensation that doesn't cease when you grip it underneath the table as gently as possible. If anything, the fabric of your cardigan only makes it worse.
She bids you your goodbyes, with pleasantries exchanged but when you reach the door to leave she interrupts. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, ____.” She smiles when you turn to thank her. “Please enjoy the rest of the day, turning 18 is very special.”
With a small bitter smile and promise to do so, you leave the room.
You reach your dorm room in no time, a stoic face on but with quick steps. And you try not to think about it, but the burning sensation on your arms continues.
It goes like this:
You close the door behind you gently, dropping your things down and immediately crumbling as you slide to the floor, unable to stand still anymore. You cry, for the second time today because birthdays were just not good. For about 10 minutes that's all that happens, your silent sobs and complete silence filling the room.
The burning in your arms stays there as a painful reminder and it tempts you to look, even though you know that the outcome didn't matter, not for you. Because behind blurry teary eyes you can see perfectly the image of your own mother's arm and the name of someone you didn't know, that she probably also didn't.
Because you are now 18 and you think romance and love are trivial things, that's all they could be.
You are now 18, and when you can't stand not knowing for another minute, you raise the sleeve of your cardigan and the name Jung Jaehyun is there on your wrist.
An ugly, incredulous laugh leaves your lips and soon turns into a sob. Of course it had to be him, you and Jung Jaehyun were tied to each other for a reason that was beyond fate.
You squeeze your eyes at the same time your hands squeeze your thighs, trying to get a grip. You calm yourself down, deep breaths in and out, your mind providing the good and the bad. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like a trick the universe was playing on you. One, it would be worse if another name appeared, a name that you would have to pretend didn't exist, because this was just another thing you didn't have a say in. This was supposed to happen anyway, maybe it was better this way.
Then your mind provides another thought that makes your mind swirl. Jung Jaehyun had turned 18 in February, your name had appeared on his arms months ago and he didn't say a word about it to you, or to anyone for all you know. Maybe he was pretending too, maybe he wanted more time thinking that at least this he would get to choose.
Well, whatever fairytale that had been created inside stupid minds, was gone now.
⋄
The whole thing is announced two weeks later, in a gossip magazine with information from an inside source. Information that is carefully crafted from a marketing team the moment you reveal the result.
A result, like a test had been applied and you got Jung Jaehyun for whatever reason.
You exchange pleasantries the next time you see him, no trace of being too young to know the rest of your lives already. You just look at each other in maybe defeat, while your families make a toast to celebrate a wedding to take place in a few years from now. A wedding that held meaning beyond the marks that tied the two of you. Destiny just helped a little bit, it was just a good excuse to justify a marriage that had been arranged ages ago.
A month later you get accepted to Stanford, of course you do. And your mother's smile is a loud reminder of every single time she called you and inquired about every grade, every step you made to make sure this happened and that it all happened accordingly.
It doesn't take you long to find out Jaehyun got accepted there too.
⋄
AUGUST 2016
The heels of your Miu Miu boots make small stomping noises on the wood floor sounds as you walk through shelves and shelves filled with books. It’s not a loud sound, probably only perceived by your own ears, and you let it distract you as you navigate the big corridors of the Green Library.
Stanford had made your eyes shine during your first visit and then for the first months of your freshman year. The thrill of finally experiencing something new and yet undiscovered carried on until it gave space to normalcy, another routine. But this time, a feeling blossomed inside your stomach with wanting to eat it up.
A feeling that died and resurrected every now and then, but you played it safe. Navigating it with baby steps with fear of what could happen if you strained a little too far from the line. And what could that be? A magazine spread on how a famous philanthropic's daughter parties too hard in college, with pictures of you doing a line on marble countertops? A class failed and the disappointment on your mother's voice when she called you? A scandal about your night escapades? You didn’t want to find out just yet.
So you settle for your new routine, of going out every now and then with the roommates that you were about to consider friends. Pondering if it’s worth it to join another club, just to feel like there's something else that makes you feel excited. Coming to the library, studying to keep your mind busy because your thoughts were never up to no good.
And it's so easy, being busy like you always managed to, with assignments, and volunteering and maintaining a perfect GPA.
It's also easy to ignore Jung Jaehyun’s existence. Because this time, unlike in boarding school, the task is much simpler, since classes are filled with so many people that on the ones you shared with him you barely get a glance of his eyes. Because he ran around in circles that had nothing to do with yours.
It was always clear to you, since youth, that Jaehyun was a social butterfly that just needed a little pushing, and he was nice enough that people always wanted him near. A high contrast to your quietness and introverted ways, staying in small circles and almost never allowing people to get too close.
It's weird thinking about him, putting a face to the name that was forever marked on your skin as a reminder of your future. It was weird thinking that it was easy to ignore this feeling too, like all the other ones that you have kept away in your small little box. The feelings that came out at least once a year when it all became too much, and you would sit in a duvet to spill all the dead butterflies inside your stomach out on the floor of a therapy clinic.
But even like this, weirdness doesn't begin to cover the way sometimes you catch yourself thinking of a memory that involves him, random and unexpected. A moment shared before the two of you discovered what expected you, before destiny was revealed. And you don't pretend that it's not real, that you don't feel the longing and need to be close, that your skin doesn't tingle when you see him around campus. You were long past pretending now, because there was no reason to play dumb when sometimes all you had were your own thoughts to rot your brain.
What you were good at, though, was concealing it all.
Was Jaehyun good at that too? Now that's something that you think about more than you would like. It didn't help that sometimes you would bump into him out of nowhere.
You enter the marketing aisle, eyes fixed on the small numbers taped to each section in hopes that the book you need was still here. It takes you awhile to realize that there's someone else with you, only moving your head up when you hear the footsteps approaching.
“Hi.” Jaehyun says, a small smile on his lips that is as gentle as every other thing about his looks. He stands close, but not too much. A safe distance for you to run your eyes through his body one time, eyes stopping at the big ‘S’ on his sweatshirt.
You clear your throat before greeting him back. “Hello.” Your voice is low, thoughtful of your surroundings, but you match his smile in a silent agreement of politeness.
His eyes run through your face the same way yours does his. Curiosity, or maybe the longing feeling you try to not think about. The unspoken space in between the two of you is intact for now.
He has changed so much in a year, is what you always think about when you two get to see each other up close. It always made you feel a weird nostalgia, seeing a face you had known for so long but now feels a little out of reach because of your own stubbornness. Your own fears.
“What book are you looking for?” He asks after some time, making small talk.
You turn your eyes to the books, him following. “Uhm, Kotler.”
“Oh, of course. How is marketing going?” You almost laugh at his attempt to make conversation, a skill well acquired during etiquette class.
“It’s okay. Not regretting it yet.” A half lie. Maybe another thing you were keeping locked deep down, your dislike for your major. But thinking about that while having a conversation with your soulmate was far from something you wanted to do.
He hums amused, eyes still fixed on the shelf. “That's good.”
You finally find the book, leaning down to get it and hugging it to your chest as your mind searches for something to offer for your own piece of ice breaker. Then you remember seeing his face last week printed on a glossy paper, an intricate article on consumerism tendencies online besides it.
“Congrats on the publication.” You say, facing him again. It’s genuine, because you knew how things like that really mattered. Small things that were nowhere near the accomplishments expected of the two of you, but still something to be proud of.
He laughs lowly, with bashful manners of looking down to his feet and with ears turning red. “It’s just a campus magazine.” Because of course he would be humble, amongst all the other qualities you were well acquainted with. Deep down you know that it's just a reflection of the high expectations that have been set the moment he was born.
“Still, it was very well written. And everyone said it was impressive for a freshman.” Everyone being the friend that showed you the magazine, but you'll pretend for him that it was something more. To try and erase the feeling of not deserving something that probably runs through his mind.
You would crush it beneath your boots if you could, it's the weird thought that runs through yours.
He huffs. “Well, it’s Stanford. Hard to know what's gonna be impressive and what is just expected of you.”
“Good thing we are all promising young adults that don't need their egos to be fed, right?” You joke back and it makes him laugh a little too loudly, quickly stopping himself as you two exchange awkward but familiar glances with tiny smiles on your lips.
A moment of silence settles next, one that lasts only long enough for you to shift the weight from one leg to another. Then he's asking. “Are you… Are you doing something this weekend?”
“I’m expected at a company party.” You reply flatly, blinking twice but not really pondering the reasons for his curiosity. You two stare at each other for a second that passes quickly.
“The HSBC event?” He asks and you nod, expecting the words he says next. “Oh, I'll attend it as well.”
“Boring, huh?” An attempt to continue a conversation that should've ended by now.
“Yeah.” He looks at you, and then away, and then back at you. “I was thinking that we could have din-“
Footsteps interrupt his words and you look behind your shoulder to see who the newcomer is. A tall man, taller than Jaehyun even, smiles at you guiltily before he’s looking at Jaehyun and raising his brows. “We are late, dude.” He deadpans as you look between the two of them.
“Shit, I didn’t realize.” Jaehyun says in a groan, bringing his big watch to his face, and you have to contain a smile at the curse. Then he turns to you. “Sorry, I gotta go.”
“It’s fine.” You mumble, the book still held tight against your chest.
He waves awkwardly as the other man throws you another smile. You watch them leave with trembling fingers.
⋄
DECEMBER 2017
December always made you feel a little weird. Blame it on the cold and the days spent in bed trying to get the warmth you craved. Or on the impending approach of winter break and having to deal with your parents and your obligations for the month to follow.
But you try not to think about that just yet, when the time comes you'll deal with it. That's what you always do. For now you let your bed swallow you as you scroll down mindless through your instagram feed, double tapping publications of past boarding school acquaintances smiling with the Harvard location attached to each picture, just like the brand names are attached to their clothes. It's a little pathetic to you that your own account looks the same, with pictures carefully picked with a marketing tactic in mind.
Your little distraction is interrupted when the door to your room opens and your roommate, Ela, walks in, clearly shivering from the cold even underneath her thick dark grey coat. “God, it's fucking freezing outside.” She mumbles as a greeting, removing her boots and setting it close to the door before draping her coat on her chair.
“How was the meeting?” You ask from under your blankets, laughing a little as she drops her things on her own bed. The question makes her sigh loudly.
“That dude is still an asshole.” The dude in question being her partner to a never ending project of rebranding that sometimes stressed even you, from how much she talked about it. “But we are almost done with it now.”
“That's good.”
She plops on her bed, across from yours and a comfortable silence settles for a moment as she probably tries to have a moment of calmness.
Ela was an old face on your life, having attended the same school but never really getting closer than knowing each other's name. Still, it was good that you got paired to dorm with her. A familiar face that became a friend of sorts, as the two of you built a relationship on things in common and the want to have someone you could trust in a new place. And she was different than you, more outgoing, had a liking for socializing that you could never match, but still understood you.
“Hey, did you finish that essay already?” She asks, turning her face to you.
“Yes, it was bitch to write.”
“And Kotler is super boring to read.” A sigh escapes her lips and you agree loudly because she's right. Sometimes, when you allowed yourself a moment of wishful thinking, you would wonder what it would be like to have a major that you didn't feel like your brain was melting from boredom when reading about.
“I'm really tired.” You reply, just to say something back.
“Same. Are you doing something for winter break?”
In your mind you know exactly what you'll be doing, a schedule even ready on your mind, but instead you say “Not really, are you?”
She hums, voice tired but still excited as she goes on about how she wants to go to Europe again, visit Amsterdam because that was one of her favorite travel destinations. When you ask how it was, she describes in perfect detail, how the streets looked and how it felt very welcoming, telling you that you absolutely had to go there someday.
You promise to go and in the back of your mind you wish you could. Maybe you can if you can do more week hours on your internship and ask for a free week.
You shake your head at that though.
“Oh, I got this little get together today. At that bar downtown.. .Do you want to go?” You know she’s asking out of politeness, not because she didn't want you there but because you rarely said yes to her invitations.
But there’s a tiny spark on your chest, one that resembles the restless feeling you would get when you stayed too long laying down. It's not a motivation as much as it is boredom and the wish to feel something other than half emptiness. Other than the want to escape.
“Ok.” You say, shrugging slightly.
“Really?”
The raise of her brow makes you laugh. “Yeah, we are getting home next week. That's the last time I get to do this for a while.”
⋄
The bar is a little crowded, with winter break approaching and no one really daring step outside for a smoke because of how cold it is. The owners took great advantage of that by offering a ‘buy two get one free’ deal, that if you take a closer look at is really just a scam considering the price. But it's enough to fool college students that are excited about being away from this place for a while.
That’s what you think about after you down the remnants of the third drink you and your roommate shared. It’s not that kind of night, of getting wasted and not remembering anything the next day. It’s more of a little get together, for your roommate's club members and you are here merely as an intruder.
You feel just a little tipsy as you listen to her friends talk, some of them you knew from afar and some were just strangers that were nice enough to make you laugh every now and then. Still, you feel detached from the conversation, smiling and nodding when needing but not really taking part.
“What about you, ___?” A girl with round cheeks and pretty eyes asks you regarding your vacation plans. “You gotta invite us if you are throwing a party.”
You scoff before you can catch yourself. Alcohol always drops your inhibitions a little, but still you are quick to cover it up. You laugh along with the others, promising to invite everyone even though you are not throwing any parties, most likely never.
You roommate looks at you from the corner of her eye, smiling sympathetically because she knows you, and knows how stupid her friends are, but it's fine. You just wish you could just take it easily, the interest, the wanting to get close so they too will appear in a gossip magazine and live the life they think you do, without wanting to tell them to get a fucking life already, because this is just pathetic.
You smile back at her, wishing for another drink as your thigh highs start to roll a little uncomfortably. Shifting from leg to leg does nothing to help it, so you try to push the little annoyance to the back of your mind.
The small groups divide in different topics over the time, and you find yourself talking to some guy you had never seen before, that goes on and on about his amazing business ideas and how successful it's going to be when he finds the right stakeholders. You nod and try to focus through the whole thing.
The rest of the night goes like that. Fake laughter, loud music and conversation that gets more boring as the clock ticks, so you find an escape excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, not because you need to but to get away for a second.
In retrospect maybe it would've been better to endure another discussion about LA clubs and entrepreneurship.
The bar is so crowded that you have to excuse yourself at least five times, and on the sixth one you end up bumping into someone.
“Oh.” Is the clever thing you say when your eyes are met with Jaehyun already looking at you, his eyes lower than usual from probably taking advantage of the drink deal like you had.
He looks relaxed, hair parted in a way that shows his forehead and an all black outfit that doesn’t look as expensive as it probably is, but he makes it work so well that you do a double look while in your hazy state. If he notices, he doesn’t show it by the way he keeps his smile unfazed at you.
“We gotta stop seeing each other by accident,” he says, laughing a little.
“Yeah.” His words take a little to digest so you keep looking at him for a beat of a second. It’s a first, seeing him in a place like this. Where you can see just how well he really can adjust to any setting. He fits right in with the low lights and the relaxed atmosphere.
“This is Johnny.” He gestures for the guy besides him, who turns his attention to you and smiles in a way that’s a little familiar. Then you realize he’s the guy from the library over a year ago, and the friend Jaehyun posted pictures every now and then on his instagram page.
“Hey, It’s nice to meet you.” Johnny says, same smile from before still on and you return it. “Have heard a lot about you.”
That makes you laugh, a mixture of confusion and excitement and politeness that confuses even yourself. “Good things I hope.”
He tilts his head playfully. “Only the best things you can hear in place like this.”
The three of you share smiles, the interaction then turning into a conversation promoted by a question you ask, both from wanting to have something to say and out of curiosity. Johnny does most of the talking, explaining how he and Jaehyun had been friends for a while but only got closer now that they are attending the same university. They share a story of something that happened, them buying each other the same thing for christmas and you listen to the whole thing entranced.
It’s weird in some way how you can learn so much from your own soulmate from someone else. And it's weird how you react with joy, perhaps, to the teasing Johnny does to Jaehyun so naturally.
When the conversation settles down, Johnny looks between the two of you for a few seconds before he’s excusing himself to find an unnamed person. It was predictable he would do that, with the way he kept aiming the conversation to make it about Jaehyun, as if he somehow had to wing his friend to you.
You stare at your shoes, unsure of what to say now and maybe too worn out from the whole night to come up with something to talk about. But you don’t have to, because soon he’s asking “Are you here alone?”
You look up, a tiny smile on your lips. “No, I came with my roommate. But she's with her friends.”
“Oh, I’ll keep you company then.” He offers and you nod, following him to the bar where it's more illuminated and you can both lean a little on the counter.
Jaehyun is good at making people feel comfortable, you had noticed that many times before and it's no surprise when he asks you about your roommate, about what songs you have been listening to lately. He tries to keep a conversation with ease, even if it stays in the usual surface you two are used to.
If you weren't so distracted by everything, your mind would probably offer that it feels a lot like when you were kids and standing in the corner of a ballroom in uncomfortable clothes, talking about things that didn't matter.
“Have you ever been to Amsterdam?” You ask him suddenly when the past topic dies down.
“Yeah, it's really nice there.”
You hum, remembering your roommate's words. “That’s cool, I really want to go there someday.”
Out of nowhere he starts laughing a little, as if you had said something funny. When you inquire about it, he shakes his head clearly amused by the way his eyes squint a little from his smile. “It's just… Don’t you think it's weird that we have known each other for all these years, and all we do is do this weird small talk?”
You laugh too, speaking before you can stop yourself. “And still for some reason I feel like I know you.”
His eyebrows raise for a second but his smile is unfaltering, your statement not bothering him. “You know me.” He says, as a matter of fact. “And I know you.”
Now this makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn't last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that it's true, you know him and he knows you. Not everything, but what would be the fun in that.
Maybe that's why the two of you kept doing this small talk, to get to know each other better even in the smallest things. That's what getting to know someone is, after all. Not the business interviews and networking you grew up with.
You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “What is your favorite thing about me then?” It's what you ask, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. Or because you actually want to know, out of curiosity or vanity.
He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face as if in deep thought, before he replies. “I like that you are smart.”
The simplicity of it makes you snort. “Please, that's a cliche thing to say in a place like this.” You say, mimicking the words his friend had said to you earlier. “What does that even mean?”
“I don't know.” He shrugs while laughing, “Johnny just says things like that sometimes.”
You nod then, making an amused sound while you turn on the counter to stare forward. Your roommate is on the opposite side of yours, leaning against a wall while talking to a girl taller than her but just as pretty. The view makes a tiny smile settle on your lips, the beginning of a spark on your chest.
It always amazed you how people who didn't know their soulmate yet continued to live on, simply letting the universe do its thing naturally. In your young mind you had always thought that love was supposed to be a yearning that you couldn't control, that you would have to be with the person you love no matter what, and do anything to find them. That had changed now.
You turn to Jaehyun again. “What would you say is your favorite thing about me then, if we didn't know each other already?” You ask. It's a weird question because it makes him raise one eyebrow at you, but there's still not a trace of annoyance on his face.
“Isn't that also cliche to say?” He huffs. “That you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen?”
You can't help the embarrassed laugh that leaves your parted lips in shock. “Are you flirting with me?”
His ear gets an incredible red shade and you find it extremely charming. “It's just the truth.” He defends himself and it only makes you giggle more.
You thank him, tell him that you think he’s pretty too and correct it to handsome when he raises one eyebrow again. It makes a nice atmosphere settle and you feel comfortable enough to ask “So... if we didn't know each other you would flirt with me at a random party? Buy me a drink and all that?”
He smiles, dimples showing while he brushes his hair back. It's not the first time, of course, but you find yourself a little in awe at how pretty he actually is. Pretty in a way that makes you feel a little out of it, stunned by the way his lips start forming his next words.
“What do you like to drink?” He asks casually.
Now it's your turn to raise one eyebrow. “Hmm, I like Moscow Mules.”
You watch as he turns to the bar, calling the waiter over and ordering two drinks of your said preference. The mixture of feelings on your chest make you feel drunker than you did before and you wish you could put a name to it. Excitement, amusement, whatever it is only increases when he looks at you again.
“I’m Jung Jaehyun, by the way.” He offers, smiling sweetly and you match it when you realize what he's playing at
“I’m _____. It's nice to meet you.”
⋄
Playing pretend with him is easy, even more when the drinks make your inhibitions fall completely. Jaehyun tells a joke and you lean forward a little. Then you talk about something and he comes closer as if to hear better. Another drink and plenty of silly conversation later, he's completely invading your space in a way that you don't feel slightly bothered by.
Not even when leans to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”
You leave the bar giggling like the two mildly drunk people you are, basking in the joy of it and of the little fantasy you two have created. Jaehyun keeps you close, your hands linked and it's such a nice feeling that you get even more overwhelmed in a good way. The two of you walk almost glued to each other basically skipping and muttering playfully things just to say something.
When you are near the dorm complex, he stops abruptly and when you turn to him, his hands find your cheeks and his eyes search yours for a brief moment before he’s bringing your face closer to his.
It's a sweet kiss, contrary to what you thought it would be when you allowed yourself to think about this. You had always imagined desperation, not being able to endure not doing it anymore. But the reality is that Jaehyun kisses you with delicacy and even if there is desperation to it, it's not in a way that overpowers anything else. But in a way that makes you moan lowly, makes you press him even closer by grabbing his shirt as he moves his lips slowly against yours.
There are no fireworks, no deep realization that you are kissing the person you are meant to be with for the rest of your life. But it's good, makes you want more, makes you want to bring him closer than possible, and maybe that's proof enough.
You reach his dorm in a blink after that, him having a bit of a hard time opening the door but when he does it takes no time for you to be pressed to it.
For a moment he just looks at you, eyes hazy and shining. They run through your face the same way yours does his, with longing that is finally allowed. You try to quiet the way your heart beats by leaning forward and kissing him.
The kiss is hungry but never too fast, with his hands moving to your hips and you pulling on his lips. When you moan a little at the feel, he opens his mouth a little, sliding his tongue against yours and you swear at yourself for waiting so long. Swear that you will never get enough of this.
Your lips move together in a way that is proof enough to you that this is something else even in your drunk state. His lips are soft, tongue moving with yours as if he wants to take his time and when your hands move from his shoulders to his neck he shudders, parting from you with a wet sound.
“W-We should...” He murmurs against your lip and you nod before he even finishes, letting him lead you to his bed. It feels a lot like yours, and the rest of the room is just as familiar but you pay no attention to that when he lays you on it gently.
It’s no surprise that Jaehyun is a giving lover and you figure that out when he kisses you like he wants to find out exactly what you like. Exactly how to make you fall apart in his hands.
He does everything with an expertise that maybe should make you feel jealous, but out of all things you are, a hypocrite is not one of them. So he shows you what he has learn from other people, and you show him what you have
And he doesn't settle for anything less than kissing all over your body after the two of you get undressed. For less than telling you in whispered words that he has dreamed about this before so many times and immediately swallowing with his tongue the words you would never be able to let out.
That you had dreamed about this too. Dreamed about coming on his tongue as he eats you out, your hands grabbing at his hair and seeing stars. A giving lover, of the best kind, Even more when he asks, with his mouth shining with your arousal. “How do you want it?”
You blink as your mind spins with the endless possibilities, but the ultimate realization that you would have him any way. You decide on the one that gives you more control. “I… I want to ride you.”
He bites his lips, ears burning red again. “Yeah,” His words come out mumbles as he just looks at you for a second before moving to lay on his back. “Yeah, ok. Fuck.”
You straddle his hips after he rolls down the condom, his eyes looking up at you in what you think is adoration, pure desire. And then you kiss him again, all tongue but still slow. So deep that you think you’ll never forget what he tastes like.
He lets you sink down at your own pace, palms on your ass when you move slowly, feeling him stretch you with every inch you sit on. He hums, hands tracing your skin delicately and it only makes it so much worse.
You move, a grind at first testing the water and immediately crying out lowly from the friction and you look for support with nails grabbing at his chest. He doesn't seem to mind.
“Good?” A stupid question to ask with the way you are so wet around him that the room is filled with a squelching sound when you move up and down with all the patience in the world.
Still, you nod. “You feel - Fuck - really good.”
He looks down at where you’re connected, biting his lips to suppress the noises you want him to let out so you move your hips with purpose, eyes roaming his face to watch it contort in pleasure as he lets out the prettiest moan you have ever heard. Low and deep.
His hands move further down then, gripping your hips and moving you in a grind that feels too good. So good that you have to drop your arms to his chest for leverage as he moves you to his liking, pushing your hips back and forth.
You come with your back arching, long moan of his name as your entire body shakes and tingles and you have to grip at the sheets beside you for support. You try to keep moving as your orgasm washes over you but its too much and your walls clenching around his cock makes him grip your ass even tighter, the action sending a thrill down your body as you fall forward on his chest with a wail.
Your mind swims in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun.
He waits for a second, hand moving to your back as your body trembles, drawing calming circles on it. When you have calmed down, he plants his feet on the bed and starts moving his hips up slowly and patiently but with deep strokes that make you bite your lip with oversensitivity.
And when you can, you move your head up, balancing yourself on your arms and looking at him. He wastes no time in kissing you, not deep because he parts his lips in a groan during a particular stroke, speeding his movements and grunting when you try to meet them back.
It’s when he has had enough, that he pulls out only to turn you on your back so he can enter you more easily, his hips now meeting yours in a pace that tells you that he’s close.
“Jae, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He looks proud of being able to get you like this.
He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.
“Deep?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.
He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you in the brink of another orgasm. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again, stars behind your eyelids.
And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally releasing inside the condom.
He pulls out, breath heavy as he smiles at you falling putty on the bed and watching as he removes the condom and disposes it only to come quickly to the bed quickly.
He hovers over you, kissing you sweetly. Your arms find his shoulders easily as the two of you bask in the afterglow of it.
Then he kisses you again, tongues dancing together and you don’t mind when his hand starts to wander again, sending goosebumps to your body. His fingers find your clit with ease, circling it slowly before applying more pressure as your lips part and your hand grip his arm, for support and not to cut the actions.
You come again, not as strong as your first one but still enough to have you shaking a little and screaming silently. His finger stays at your clit, hovering until he asks again in a whisper. “Another?”
You nod, and he resumes his actions slowly, until you are seeing starts and he swallows your moans with kisses and stops your trembling with soft hands grounding you.
When you recover your breath, an incredulous laughter leaves your lips. “You’re insane.” He just smiles, nose brushing against yours. “God, I...I gotta clean up now.”
He moves to get up. “Yeah sure, I’ll show you the bathroom.”
You end up cleaning together, a shower that doesn't take you long, even if it's hard to keep your hands to yourselves but you are both tired, feeling a little drained after the glow has gone away.
⋄
Afterwards, you are laying on his bed side by side, surrounded by the smell of his body wash and wearing the big t-shirt and sweatpants he offered you.
Your mind starts wandering lazily with the remnants of your high, that's why the words escape your mouth without much thought. “Isn't it weird that even if we have someone in the world meant for us we can still feel lonely?” You are not lonely right now, not really. Maybe it's just the sadness of winter speaking, or maybe you're still a little drunk.
He takes a second to reply, voice low when he does. “Yeah. But you don't have to.” He says.“ Feel lonely, I mean. You don't have to.”
It's a little funny how he feels the need to explain himself to you, as if you don't quite understand him when the reality it's both very far from that and exactly it at the same time.
“I don't think thats how it works. It's not up to me.” If it was, wouldn't you have stopped being lonely by now? Wouldn't you have finally succumbed to the desperate need of wanting someone, something, when late night hit and the mark in your arm would burn just as your eyes as you fought back tears?
Still, he says simply. “I think it is.”
You smile sadly then, turning to him a little and watching as he kept his gaze on the ceiling. He looked relaxed, as if this setting was soothing his mind and it makes a familiar feeling blossom on your chest. “What did you feel when the mark showed up on your arm?” A question that you had wanted to ask the moment you found out it was him, but instead had failed miserably to guess the answer to.
“Relief.” He says without thinking, a truthful and genuine reply.
“That you wouldn't have to end up marrying someone that wasn't your soulmate?” You ask. All these years you had thought that this must've been it, what you felt that day.
“No. I was relieved that it was you anyway.” Is his reply, body turning and eyes meeting yours. For a second you’re frozen, blinking because it’s strange to have someone put their feelings out so easily.
“Is… Is that what love is, then?” You ask softly. “Relief that you have at least one person that makes you feel held?”
Maybe this is not really what he meant, and more so wishful thinking of your part than anything else, but still he nods.
“I think it’s that. And other things.” His voice is soft when he says this. “I'm not sure what it is, but I want to find out.”
You can’t help as you examine his face after his confession. Is this what being soulmates is, then? Having someone that it's worth taking the risk of finding out? Or maybe it’s having someone that will show you exactly what it is.
Does all that explain the way you can't look away from him?
“Me neither.” You reply in the same quiet voice because it’s true. You tend to act like you know everything, and that you know what love is. You know love it’s pathetic and that it gets in the way of things, but is it really that bad? So you ask “Is it bad that I think you'll only love me because the mark on your arm tells you to?”
He laughs briefly. “No, it makes sense.” His eyes find yours again. “But you know it’s not, don't you?”
“I do.” At least you do now.
Maybe that's why you fall asleep so easily
⋄
2014 (flashback)
It’s the last day before summer break and Jaehyun is tired.
The other four guys he shared a room with are all packing their things for a nice vacation somewhere in Europe or one of the paradisiac beaches they all like to talk about. Jaehyun just wants to get home, not think about college applications for two months and maybe go somewhere he can be alone for a while.
“Sooyoung is kinda hot, huh?” Yugyeom says out of nowhere and the room settles in a unison hum of agreement. He joins in too.
There’s a loud creak noise as another one of his roommates slumps into the bed but he doesn't bother checking who it is, mind somewhere else as he stares at the ceiling.
“True. But I would die if Ela gave me her number.” Jungkook sighs dreamily and Jaehyun can't help the snort that escapes his lips. Just yesterday they had a conversation exactly like this one, but not quite as innocent. Trust a group of men that have no idea who their roommates are to act like this.
Even though Doyoung, the only one of them that already knew, still acted the same when it came to this. His soulmate isn't someone he knew already, so what was the point in waiting. That's why he asks the next question. “Jaehyun, you know ___, right? Does she stick to the whole ‘waiting’ thing?”
Jaehyun blinks, shifts almost unnoticeable. “I don't know her like that.” Is what he says, which is a half true. He knows her, probably things no one else knows but that’s what happens when you grow up in the same circles, he guesses. Right now though, he feels like he doesn’t know her anymore, not with the distance she had put between them after the wedding was announced by your parents.
Then, he starts thinking about himself. Is he waiting for his soulmate? He has kissed some girls, but it never went beyond that. But now he remembers coming home from german class one day and his mother making soft cake as she told him about the name that would appear on his wrist.
He remembers that he had said loudly that he wished ____ would be his name, because then they could be better friends for some reason as silly as playing around together.
Sicheng interrupts his thoughts by snorting loudly. “Are you really trying to hit?” He asks Doyoung. “Gonna end up in the cover of a magazine for trying to corrupt the nation’s good girl.”
The room erupts in laughter and comments after that. He drowns it with his mind going somewhere else.
That night he dreams about her.
⋄
10, FEBRUARY 2018
Winter break goes by quickly with one too many end of the year celebration and wishing people you had never seen before a happy new year.
You spend your days fulfilling your internship at the company you would one day own, following around the superiors for the Marketing team and playing nice when they try to flatter you.
So busy that you can barely think about it, but you still do. You think about him so often that you think you have lost your mind. And you see Jung Jaehyun too, here and there at parties, between whiskey glasses, tuxedos and unspoken words. Because, as you always thought, keeping it all unsaid is easier. At least for now.
Perhaps he knows it all, in a different way than you. So the two of you kept it lowkey, for the duration of those two months that are now gone with the wind. Two months of not a single magazine spread on your escapades, or you parents mentioning anything that is out of the ordinary.
It's as if the two of you have a secret, that some may assume, but still don't know for sure. What you and Jaehyun did that night is kept inside a locked box, one that you share with him and that every moment until now seems to fit in. What you don't know is if he too keeps the box as sacred as you do.
What you don't know is if the thought of it being opened by prying eyes scares him too.
Being back to campus is, ironically, a breath of fresh air. No more business meetings disguised as family celebrations, or stupid networking, or smiling for a camera to say that the company has never been better. No more internship and lack of time for something else.
February comes and it's just you, your dorm bed and the roommate you will miss when it's time. Just the lectures and keeping busy and trying not to think about things only to fail miserably.
But then, there are the phone calls, never ending and always the same. Or almost always.
The phone lights up, stupid ringtone, and your heart starts beating a little faster. How could someone ever guess what a phone call is about? Not having control made you antsy.
Your mother greets you as always, stern words, asking how you have been out of politeness. You spend the entire phone call waiting for her to just say what she wants to already.
She mentions being busy, good opportunities, of an article you should read and something that sounds like a threat if you let yourself slip and get a scandal, even though she has said all this not long ago after gifting you another piece of jewelry you’ll keep stored deep in your drawer.
At least this time it doesn't take long for her to finally say what she wants. “Jaehyun’s birthday is soon. Don't forget to greet him.”
“I won't.” You reply simply but she’s quick to cut you off.
“Publicly. Maybe sending flowers would be good, or buying something that can get attention from the press.” It’s obvious this is not about you and your soulmate, it’s about you and your future. As everything is.
“Ok.”
“Just because he's your soulmate doesn't mean people will connect you two together forever.” She continues, never knowing when to stop. “You have to remind them of that.”
“I know that.” Because you do. There was no guarantee that your marriage with Jaehyun would be good publicity if the two of you weren’t liked or even popular.
You fear that when the time comes, people will realize something you yourself already has. That maybe you don’t really deserve Jaehyun, not because he’s better than you, but because you are not sure you can give him the love he deserves.
What you don't know clearly yet, is that you’re selfish and want him anyway.
“Good.” Your mother says and then the line cuts.
One time a therapist told you that maybe your mother was jealous. Because you would get to experience something she didn't, being with your soulmate, and that it was normal. It didn't mean she was evil and hated you. Another one said that that was the reason she was so stern, she wanted to keep you in line to prevent you from failure so as to not hurt you. That, behind the lack of affection, was a wish for your happiness.
Maybe there will be a time you understand that plenty. Maybe some things can never be truly fixed, only forgotten.
Four days days after that, you text Jaehyun a simple happy birthday with a heart at the end of it. You also get a chocolate cake sent to his place from a bakery you like, and when he calls to thank you, you tell him to not post it anywhere.
He laughs and tells you that it's a good idea.
⋄
2007 (flashback)
It was another late afternoon party, for another thing that you couldn’t remember or care about because things like this shouldn't really matter when you are only ten years old. Still, you had watched the other kids play with each other as their parents talked business and laughed, drunk from the bubbly drinks they downed glass after glass of.
For a moment you felt like reaching out and playing with them too, but it died soon and you stayed unmoving on the chair you had been placed in, while your parents did the same as the others somewhere in the distance.
It had been a pretty day, you remember, the sun was about to set and it made the shiny fabric on the tablecloths that were spread around the individual tables set outside, sparkle just the tiniest bit. You played with it to have something to distract yourself with.
You remember too, that Jung Jaehyun and his family were at the table right in front of yours, your parents greeting each other and talking briefly. Later on the party you had watched as he listened to something his mother said to him. She was beautiful, like your own mother, and you had heard her voice before so it had been easy to imagine in what tone she was speaking. Soft and low, how warmth felt like. As to the content of her words you would never know, but it had clearly been something nice because it made her son laugh as she patted his head.
You didn’t know back then that this moment would stick with you for the years to come, for a reason that at ten years old you were just beginning to understand. But still, the weird twist in your stomach, as you started to realize that something was wrong, would be felt many more times. As you realized that your family dynamics were not as warm as the others appeared to be.
⋄
25, FEBRUARY 2018
What you and Jaehyun have turns into something hard to describe.
The line you had so clearly put between the two of you, to avoid your future, had been replaced now by acceptance and the weird feeling of navigating a relationship that It’s still a new thing, but it’s also nice enough. Especially when he sends you a silly text and jokes about something, later on commenting the same thing on one of your instagram posts. It makes you feel giddy, that you have a shared secret.
Even more when he gives you a small knowing smile across the table while your father is non stop talking about the new model the company is about to release.
It’s a small dinner to celebrate Jaehyun’s birthday, or at least as small it can be in a restaurant like this, where the waiter will look you up and down if you are not wearing your prettiest silk dress and stiletto heels.
The whole thing had been rescheduled twice, because of busy schedules and whatnot, and now that both your parents had been able to fly here, you all sit underneath lowlights and drink expensive wine that is accompanied by a conversation that is so boring that you have trouble keeping up with it.
He finds you on the rooftop, hair blowing a little as he walks to you and in the back of your mind you think it’s a crime that he looks this good in a suit. That’s probably all the wine you had talking.
“Sorry I left you alone there.” You mutter with a sympathetic smile thrown his way when he reaches you, but you both know you are not sorry at all for escaping the stupid conversation your parents were having.
He chuckles. “You leaving was just a reason for me to escape too.”
The two of you turn to look at the city, the illuminated buildings looking minuscule from here but the tiny lights from each of them make for a breathtaking view. Jaehyun stands so close to you that your arms touch. You don’t mind.
“Looking at the city like that makes me feel really small.” You whisper, without really thinking.
“That’s because we are.” You hear his voice clearly, warm like honey and you don’t try to help the smile that forms in your lips.
“How do you do it?” The question makes him look at you, raising one eyebrow. “I mean, you always sound like you got it all figured out. While I just say the most random stuff because I don’t know who I am.”
You know you are the heritage left to you, the face of your father's company, a good student, smart. One of the few socialites that have never stepped a foot out of line, according to the magazines. But take all that and what’s left?
“I don't.” He says simply, “I’m just good at pretending, like you are.”
That makes you laugh. “Good to know we are both good at playing our roles.” You say, as a joke, because you are sure the two of you are beyond the acting now.
And It’s always funny to you how the masks the both of you put on fall completely when you are alone. That’s what it means to be friends, you had realized, and that’s what you decide to call your relationship for now. Friends, from a long time, that happened to be tied together for other reasons.
And Jaehyun is a friend that sometimes makes you feel like you deserve the love you crave.
“Hey. You are ____.” He says after a second, for good measure. “That's enough, you don't have to be anything else.”
“Is it enough for you?” You ask without really thinking.
He smiles, dimples showing and your heart grows warmer. “Yeah, and we can figure it out together. Who we are and all that.”
You share a smile, both staring forward at the view and shivering a little from the night wind.
“I’m sorry for getting you into these deep conversations.”
He laughs deeply at that, with his whole body. “It’s good, don’t worry. I want you to trust me, even if you won't let me get to know you.” And you do, you want to desperately trust him and let him in. ”Because you are scared I can't handle your daddy issues or something.”
A scoff mixed with laughter leaves your lips. It’s been a long time since you were able to joke about this with someone. “It’s mommy issues, please get it right.”
He turns to you with a silly smile on his lips. “Is it because she made you take those piano classes?” He jokes and you laugh before tilting your head.
“Wait, how did you know I played the piano?” That was ages ago, finally a hobby that you enjoyed amongst the numerous other classes your mother had enrolled you in. You played it for a long time before you stopped completely for whatever reason.
“You told me, when we had to introduce ourselves and talk about things we liked in german class.” He explains. “You said you liked it, even though your mother forced you to go.”
You turn to him now as it strikes you that Jung Jaehyun remembered you from his childhood the same way you remembered him. Not the same things, but still memories. The thought is so comforting that you can’t hold the way your cheeks move up in a smile.
“What about you?” You question. “What things did you say you liked?”
“Hmm, I don't really remember.” Is what he says with a shrug.
You two share a look, perhaps meaningful but maybe that's the wine making you feel on cloud 9 under his gaze. “What do you like now?”
He chuckles as if your interest is amusing. “I like… music, getting coffee with friends. That kind of thing.”
“Not cars?” You joke, making him laugh. You decide then that you like making him do it.
“I mean, a little.” He replies playfully, and it’s very easy to be comfortable like this.
It’s good to know after all this time Jaehyun was like you, even if you felt alone in the world sometimes. That’s what a soulmate must be after all, not the missing piece to make you whole but someone that makes you realize exactly that you don't have to be.
“We should get coffee together sometime.” You offer after some time, a gentle smile being shared between you two in laziness, at the thought of soon having to return to the restaurant and popping out of the bubble you have started creating for yourself.
“We should.” He says, and the bubble stays afloat a little longer.
⋄
JULY 2019
It’s another charity Gala, with sparkly lights, champagne, fake smiles and a dress too tight. Everything is the way it always had been, except for you.
And Jaehyun, whose hand stays on your waist as he guides you through a slow song. He had wanted to dance, said he always thought it was nice when lovers did it in movies.
Lovers. The mere use of the word had made your heart somersault in your chest, but you kept it down. Instead, you move with him with soft smiles adorning both of your faces.
Your hand finds his cheeks. Nothing could describe the look you give him in the light but pure admiration. And you don’t care if anyone sees it, you don’t care if it ends up in a magazine spread. Because even if everybody knew about it, this is yours.
The way he brings his hand on top of yours, and how his eyes match the exact look on yours. Every little detail about it makes you know that this right here belongs to the two of you and nothing can change it.
“Jaehyun?” Your voice is low, almost inaudible underneath the music and conversation echoing through the ballroom. “I don't want to be here anymore.”
His eyebrows raise at your confession, steps faltering for a second as he loses the rhythm “What? We can leave right now if you want.” He offers. “I came with my own car, so we can-“
Your soft laughter interrupts his words. “No, I don't mean right now.” You explain, swallowing around your next words. “I meant.. I don't want to keep playing a role, I want to go somewhere with you where no one knows us.”
A smile grows on his lips, one that tells you that he understands exactly what you mean. And you don’t have to guess anymore, there are no more maybes. You know.
“Okay, we can do that.”
He pulls you closer, dance now long forgotten as you just move in complete muscle memory.
“I want to find out.” You confess in a whisper. A secret between the two of you that no one else would ever know. “I want to go somewhere with you and find out.”
You wonder if he already found the answer to it, to what love is. But you also don't need to know right now, because you will know when you have to. Either way you want to find out and it's not for you to guess.
He smiles genuinely at you, with his dimples showing, like he always smiles at you.
You smile back, heart aching from something that can only be only be explained by years of shared stories, and in your mind, deeper connections that go beyond what everything and everyone inside this ballroom would understand.
You smile back, in the exact way you have always smiled at him.
⋄
APRIL 2020
A ray of sun peeks from the half closed curtains and set right above your eyes, getting you to wake up lazily and slowly. It takes you a while to come to it, the sheets on the bed just now starting to feel truly familiar with the warmth left on the bed, from someone that had probably gotten up just a little before from you.
You blink once and twice before your eyes are completely open, vision still unfocused but it slowly comes back as you stare at the bedside table. A lip balm is the first thing you see, then your phone and lastly a picture framed of you and Jaehyun hugging in front of the sunflower field at the Van Gogh museum. He’s laughing, at something said by the kind fellow tourist that had offered to take your picture, and you have the beginning of a smile on your own lips. One that you mimic perfectly now as you remember that day.
Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the door opening and Jaehyun walks in the bedroom, holding a bowl. His eyes are still drowsy and his hair a mess but you think he looks right at home. Because he is.
“Morning, baby.” His voice is low and raspy, but enough to make you melt even more on the sheets.
“Good morning.” The smile settles fully on your lips now.
He sits on the bed next to you then, almost drowning inside his large t-shirt and hair plopping cutely when he tries moving even closer to place the bowl with sliced fruits on your lap. “We gotta add apples to the shopping list.” Is all he says and you nod while picking a slice of melon and chewing it leisurely as you bask on the hazy feeling of still being half asleep
Jaehyun stays by your side, head weirdly pressed to your chest, and asking silently for you to feed him apple slices every now and then with just his mouth opening.
Your mind wanders as you eat and then you’re having one of those moments where realization dawns on you finally. A silly small thing that makes you smile and your chest grow warm. “Jaehyun?” You call out softly, fighting back the bubble of happiness that forms on your chest because old habits are hard to die.
“Hmm?” He looks up at you, eyes blinking at you in the same way he always does, but this time it makes you want to cry a little bit.
You lean down, press a quick peck to his lips that make you both smile and then the words are out of your mouth.
“This is what love is.”
#here she is!#cant wait to hear what you guys think about it#works#commission#neowritingsnet#nct smut#nct scenarios#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun smut#jaehyun scenario
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Chapter 64 of CFC thinky thoughts
This chapter is both hella long and hella explicit but you know what really strikes me? Meatbun is one of the vanishingly small number of writers who has the ability to use explicit noncon to move forward the story and develop her characters. The only other author I’ve ever seen do it, is the Brazilian legend Jorge Amado (the scenes in Tereza Batista are graphic and horrific but necessary, as are the scenes of Tereza finally finding sexual freedom from her abuse with a useless playboy who nonetheless shows her sex can be pleasing and she can be in control; this is part of the reason she murders her abuser; it’s significant that after that happens, no explicit scenes occur again because they are not necessary. Yes, I just compared a web novel author to possibly the greatest Brazilian author. Come at me! Pls don’t.)
We saw that in noncon scenes in 2ha, and we see this now.
What hits me even harder now that I can read it in proper translation is:
1. The capacity for violence XQC unleashes - he promises to break HY’s fingers and means it (good!) and being ready to snap HY’s neck (!!!!!!). MB explicitly mentions him erupting, and describes both him and HY fighting like wild animals, which no surprise for HY but for buttoned down XQC! It shows how much he hates it and how much he’s been dragged outside of his normal self. But while it’s all awful, the question is - is it better to even feel that or feel nothing? Only exist or be alive but horribly?
2. How it’s all about He Yu’s pleasure. Despite his whole “hey, it could be good for both of us,” he abandons his attempts to make it pleasant for XQC as well he might because nothing of that experience appears pleasant for XQC - the man doesn’t even get hard (MB mentions more than once that he’s unresponsive despite literally being fondled - in fact the only times she points out the state of little xqc it’s to point out he’s not even hard), and MB at various points mentions XQC wanting to barf at being touched by HY, his feeling fear and thinking of HY as “terrifying” (and literally trembling in terror), his feeling humiliation and embarrassment (and not in a kinky “I am getting off on it” way) and views it as reliving a nightmare. And it all culminates in HY literally xxxing in him even as XQC loses his calm and begs him not to. It is not any sex anyone should want to be having, honestly.
But then of course how else could it be? What He Yu doing in this scene is the ultimate in sociopathic selfishness - he is forcing someone who doesn’t want to have sex to have sex with him and he doesn’t even have the twisted excuse of “revenge! he had it coming!” this time around. He Yu does it this time because He Yu craves it. So what else could it be about but He Yu and He Yu only? And yet the thing that is the most disturbing is that it’s clear that He Yu continues not to get what a horrific violation he’s perpetrating (and kudos to MB for not mincing words that this is what it is; there is none of “and he loved it against his will mmmm” in this scene - XQC is not turned on and he’s in pain for some of it to boot) - he literally feels aggrieved that he, HY, fantasized about the club since then but XQC clearly didn’t think about him at all, he insists that what they are doing right now is “making love.” Like! This is not a person who has any genuine understanding of how people work.
It can all be summed up by HY’s reaction when XQC calls him a nutcase - he slaps XQC across the face and orders him to get on his knees and when XQC point blank refuses, starts kissing where he hit (!) and shoving him down. That’s abusive as fuck but it’s also literally insane. MB mentions that HY has an innate tendency towards sexual aggression but it’s one thing to be consensually rough and another to do what HY is doing. How he thinks any of it would make XQC want him is beyond me, but then he’s not thinking, is he?
One of the reasons XQC gives in is a horrifyingly realistic reaction of “I fought hard before and it didn’t work so might as well stop and freeze myself instead.” Yikes.
The deep irony is that this is HY’s horrifyingly dysfunctional and psychopathic seeking of closeness (he substitutes violence and sex for what he actually craves - which is closeness) but understandably, it has created a situation where XQC, who initially had some care for him, now wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. The fact that HY is literally incapable of comprehending that the person he violently raped and then continued to force into sex is the last person he should expect emotional care from shows just how beyond warped he is.
HY continues to be jealous of XQC’s ex wife but he’s like a gay psycho version of same - he has XQC’s body because XQC feels he has no choice and so he has sex, which he views as a chore at best (and with HY it’s even less pleasant than that) as little as he can get away with and all it does is freeze him more.
I honestly do not see how XQC will ever care for HY. HY is obsessed and in love (in his horrifyingly fucked up way) - he’s actually always been in love if he’s never realized it but how/why would XQC ever care? I don’t think he would ever notice HY is in love with him because he’s ceased to care about anything about what makes HY tick - he’s just endlessly weary and disgusted - but even if he did, he’d just use that knowledge to hurt him back (not that I’d blame him. I strongly prefer a dynamic of someone lashing out and hurting back someone who hurt them to the saintly victim nobly putting up with abuse; it feels somehow less horrific to me as a reader and I am selfish.)
Anyway, this chapter was rough to get through for me tbh. Not because MB wrote it badly but because she wrote it too well. It was rough in MTL but in human translation, it felt even more brutal and fucked up.
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2020 fic recs
thank you to all the fic writers who kept me afloat and more or less sane during this weird, fucked up year. literally don’t think i could have done it without you. to pay it forward, here are some recs. it was really difficult to pick what to put on this list, but these ones did stand out the most in the end. still, my thanks goes to literally every fic writer ever, and especially everyone whose fics i read this year, even if they aren’t on this list.
disclaimer & some notes: a lot of these are older fics, because i discovered a new fandom and returned to ones i’d been taking a break from. but all were read during 2020. (did some maths and i seem to have read approximately 2.5 million words of fanfic this year?.....). also, tried to add warnings the best i could, please heed them and check the author’s warnings as well, just in case.
ok, recs are under the cut!
MARVEL
we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by @notcaycepollard | Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson | 33k | warnings: PTSD | Comment: a very unpredictable, intimate and complicated story of recovery and finding each other.
Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by @glittercake | Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson | 5.5k | warnings: none | Comment: so much fun! i was cackling half the time and the identity porn really works.
Like Soldiers Do by @glittercake | Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson | 8k (ongoing) | warnings: canon-typical violence | Comment: there’s a lot of jokes and fronting here, but the intimacy and passion are what makes this fic so compelling.
There Is No Shortage of Blood by @albymangroves @dsudis | Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers | 246k | warnings: (a lot, including but not limited to) rape recovery, rape aftermath, rape fantasy, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, etc. please read author’s warnings | Comment: a harsh, desperate, gruesome path through recovery, shot through with a lot of love, care and community. there are no easy answers here, but the little wins are all the more awarding for it.
Just Stay Alive ‘verse by @dsudis | Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson | 85k | warnings: dissociation, ptsd, mentions of child murder | Comment: a really interesting story (almost a theory, I want to say) of how Bucky finds his place in Steve and Sam’s lives, the different ways they all connect with each other and what they become together.
Comedy Jokes by @softsams | Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson | 77k | warnings: suicidal thoughts, panic attacks, car accidents, body image issues | Comment: this was one of the first fics I read in the mcu fandom. a lot of regular, non-Hollywood appropriate aspects of human life are made visible in this story, and there is just so much humanity and compassion and holding space that happens here, that it blew me away.
Alexander Pierce should have died slower ‘verse by Lauralot | mostly no pairing, some Bucky Barnes/Alexander Pierce in the first few parts | 301k | warnings: literally so many. including but not limited to rape, rape recovery, ptsd, violence, etc. please read author’s warnings. Comment: a very different, more trauma-heavy take on age-play than usual. complicated, well-written, often also funny and sweet.
VENOM:
Drawn into Something ‘verse by Nonymos | Eddie Brock/Venom, Eddie Brock/Dan Lewis/Venom/Anne Weying, etc | 101 k | warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, vore(ish), consensual non-consent, alien rape fantasy, rape roleplay, etc. check author’s warnings. Comment: not really sure how to describe this one. it’s got all the elements of a good Symbrock fic - aka weird alien significant other stuff - but also polyamory with your ex and her current bf + a lot of really good (and fairly disturbing) kink. this description doesn’t do it justice, just read it (or the author’s summary at least).
came all this way (to hold our hand) by @alakeeffectgirl | Eddie Brock/Venom | 651 words | warnings: none | Comment: possibly one of the strangest things I’ve read this year? A strange mix of not-quite-porn and fluff. short and very satisfying (to me).
HARRY POTTER:
Chrysalis by starcrossedgirl | Harry Potter/Severus Snape | 85k | warnings: mental health issues, depression, panic attacks, suicidal ideation, reference to child sexual abuse, etc. please read author’s warnings. Comment: a really well written account of Snape’s traumas and Harry discovering them and trying to find the balance with their combined traumas . there can never be enough Snape whump.
Pacify ‘verse by Chickenpets | Harry Potter/ Severus Snape | 500k (ongoing) | warnings: again, so, so many. graphic descriptions of violence, underage sex, ptsd, torture, panic attacks, etc. please check author’s warnings. Comment: this is both a very interesting and extremely detailed retelling of the last two books (and beyond), as well as the greatest love story ever told, as well as a lovely description of a (morally extremely dubious, of course, but that goes without saying) hardcore bdsm relationship. I like bdsm fic where the bdsm serves a psychological or practical purpose and isn’t merely a kink, and this very much hits the mark with that. it also isn’t as simple as you might think. very, very creative and well-written.
Quid Pro Quo by anonymous | Harry Potter/Severus Snape | 88 k (ongoing) | warnings: past child abuse | Comment: a really nice account of a marriage of convenience turning into something deeper. love the sparse and obscure way Snape is written.
Under the Same Sky by @writcraft | Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter| 37k | warnings: none. | Comment: what I said about psychologically motivated bdsm applies here too – not bdsm, but kinky in a very compelling and casual way. don’t know if it’s romance with a side of kink or kink with a side of romance, but very nice either way.
#go forth and read#not the most uplifting stuff admittedly#but very good#and i dont do sad endings so rest assured there is light at the end of all these angst tunnels#fic rec#marvel#harry potter#venom#snarry#drarry#symbrock#sambucky#stevebucky#samstevebucky#ms
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Touhou VI: The Embodiment of Scarlet Devil - or my first journey into a bullet hell game
Touhou is that one pew pew game series with cute anime gals, right?
Source: https://pixiv.kurocore.com/illust/54033795
Just like what I think are many people, that’s pretty much all I knew about the franchise as a whole! And to be honest, for a long long time, I was AFRAID of going any closer to anything Touhou-related! Because of them being bullet hecks, they seemed like the most frustrating and unfun games I could possibly be playing! But then... time passed... Fast forward to somewhere in 2020: I was watching the biyearly Games Done Quick event, and one of the first runs showcased during it was none other than Touhou Luna Nights! But while the speedrun itself was very impressive, the thing that really captivated me was well... everything else! Even though this was only a Metroidvania fangame, IT LOOKED LIKE SO MUCH FUN! The graphics, the special effects, the mechanics... everything just seemed like a dream! In spite of that, I only picked the game up and played it about a year later, thanks to a Steam sale! And to keep things short, I ADORED it. It was a bit too short, but everything else was spot on, and even better than I thought it would be from what I saw at GDQ! But that’s sadly a review for another time :( Because I literally fell in love in this game, well... I thought “screw it, I’ve been morbidly curious for years now, let’s actually try a freakin’ Touhou game!”
And so, after some research I’ve learned that the sixth game - the first one released on Windows PCs! - was the one that served as inspiration for Luna Nights as a whole - its characters, music, stage aesthetics and more! It just seemed natural to settle with this one~
How did it go? What did I think about it? Well, that’s why we’re here: those are my thoughts about Touhou VI: the Embodiment of Scarlet Devil.
Now for a pointless history lesson: as I said earlier, Touhou 6 was the very first game published for Windows PCs, all the way back in 2002! The five previous games were actually exclusive to a Japan-only machine, the NEC PC-98, a line that prevailed strongly in Japan before Microsoft conquered the world. As such, it’s really the first game that’s still relatively accessible today, as PC-98 emulation is... not really a stable thing yet -_- So even though this wasn’t quite true, it’s as if I started my journey into Touhou with the original! And once I started playing, I was honestly surprised at one thing once I hit the title screen: this game actually has lots of options to make the experience easier or harder!
I know that being able to change your starting lives, starting bombs, choose your overall difficulty and such isn’t groundbreaking at all, but honestly? I didn’t expect things to be so customisable in a bullet heck game series - a genre that’s known for being merciless to players! I did decide to go on Normal to have the “intended” experience, but things aren’t as daunting as you may think!
This game also allows you to play as not only Reimu, the poster character of the franchise, but also Marisa! Both of these girls also boasts two different weapons each, with their own strengths, weaknesses and bomb attacks! Again, I genuinely did not expect so much breathing room even though looking back... I feel like I should have : P
Once I actually started playing the game itself, there’s yet another thing that surprised me: the difficulty curve... it’s... manageable??
Now granted, I’m a person that plays a *lot* of games, and on top of that, I play lots of action games as well, games that require quick reaction times, good pattern reading and so on so forth. So there’s a chance my judgement on the game’s difficulty might be wrong or biased... but to me? Embodiment of Scarlet Devil actually has a good difficulty curve! The first stage of the game has many enemies that can shoot many bullets, but they’re slow, predictable and relatively easy to avoid because you have lots of space to maneuver around! On that same train of thought, Rumia, the first stage’s boss, certainly doubles down on the number of bullets she can throw at you. But, their patterns are once again pretty slow and predictable, making things much more comfortable at the start of your adventure!
But hold on a minute here, how does this game actually plays? Well, this is where I need to let out a horrifying truth:
Touhou is actually really, REALLY fun.
At first it does seem like a pretty standard shooter: you shoot at things, dodge bullets, collect power ups to boost your weapon’s strength, and make sure you don’t die too much in order to reach the final boss in good shape. However, what I ended up loving about Touhou are its many, many mechanics that spice things up beautifully! The first one I wanna focus on is “Grazing” and it’s actually pretty simple: if you do your best to get close to a bullet or a laser without touching it with your (very small!) hitbox, you graze that bullet! Not only will a satisfying sound effect play out each time you graze something, you will also gain points each time you do this maneuver, making it essential for a high score, and especially, to gain extra lives faster! Secondly, there’s bombing! I am totally repeating myself here, but while each character has a different kind of bomb to their disposal, they each function in relatively the same way: you get to launch a strong attack against your opponents, get invincibility frames, and on top of that, get rid of any bullets that are currently on the screen! I love bombs in this game because they create a great balance: you can totally use them for offensive purposes, buuuut they also serve as a great defensive clutch if you just find things too difficult at the moment. Bombs even have two extra layers to them! When you will get hit and lose a life (and believe me, you will) your bombs will get refilled back to three, urging you to not hoard them too much even if you’d prefer to save them for a tougher part. Because if you die, you might just “waste” bombs in a way! However, here’s an advanced kicker: if you manage to hit the bomb button just as you are hit by a projectile (8 frames within death I think!) you not only are able to save yourself from losing a life, you also won’t lose a bomb at all, either! This is a very difficult trick, but a very cool and potentially important one if you plan things out in the heat of battle ^^
Then there’s a mechanic that, to my knowledge, got introduced in EOSD: the POC, as in Point Of Collection! Now, as you destroy the many enemies after Reimu or Marisa, they naturally drop many power ups and point icons, and because there’s many of these you’re bound to miss them. However, this is where the POC comes in: if you are at full weapon power, you will earn the ability to collect every icon on the screen! This makes sense and is actually very smart, because most players - myself included - tend to hug the bottom of the screen as bullets are more scarce and slower here. BUT reaching that POC close to the top of the screen is a great way to incentivise players to risk things in order to get a massive amount of points and gain extra lives way faster! And finally, as soon as you do reach that max power, the game will automatically wipe every single projectile off the screen, so it’s even possible to time when you’ll get your final power boost to make things easier on yourself!
All of those mechanics together make Touhou EOSD a pure joy to play! It’s simple on the surface but has such interesting mechanics and risk-reward elements that can push you out of your comfort zone, but never forces you to! And sure enough, I got addicted~
Even though I did say that the game had a good curve and started off not too difficult, it does not mean that your journey will be easy: even early game bosses such as Cirno and Meiling took me lots of practice to get consistent at, by studying their patterns and testing out which strategies worked the best for survival. And eventually, even Patchouli and Sayaka’s stages will test you out with lots of predictable-yet-deadly bullets to test out your screen reading skills and even reflexes.
Touhou may be more accessible than I thought, but do not be mistaken: on Normal, this game will still challenge you, and I absolutely love it for that <3
Another thing that helps this game out is - please pretend to be surprised - the music. Touhou has always been known for bringing some very good tunes all around, but besides Luna Nights’s incredible soundtrack, I actually never got to listen to any of them besides Bad Apple and one fanime opening my bestie sent me one year ago. And well... it’s true!
The game uses some very artificial, even out-of-tune instruments for its music, but strangely enough, it REALLY works! It gives the music a very nostalgic, warm feeling that’s hard to describe, but it works so well at making those songs catchy as all heck! It also helps that the compositions themselves are pretty strong and surprisingly complex for its genre, too! I would pick a favourite theme to show off, but the soundtrack’s just really consistent and good all around!
Sadly, I mostly cannot say the same for the game’s presentation. This game is a PC app from 2002 and it sadly somewhat shows. I’ll even bring a special mention to the in-game portraits, which are hilariously HORRIBLE! Thankfully dedicated fans have made a patch to improve the game’s visuals so that they’re more in line with later titles, but at base it’s really not the prettiest gem visually...
...except for the spell cards, the bosses’s strongest attacks, which are genuinely gorgeous multicolored motives that will struck you in awe before you are inevitably destroyed by them, it’s great! My favourite is the one you get from Meiling’s mid stage encounter, pictured above!
Before wrapping up this long, long post, I do wanna add this: the game will unfortunately only give you the good ending only by playing on Normal and above, and only if you beat the game without using any continues. This is called a 1CC, or 1 Credit Clear. Even if I don’t think the bad ending’s actually that unsatisfactory, I did want to get better at the game! So I practiced for many hours a day for a couple of weeks, memorized each boss’s patterns, learned where to graze, when to optimally reach the POC to get as many points as possible... this game pushed me to get better with an incentive, a reward waiting at the end, on top of the satisfaction of simply cheesing what used to be so difficult at some point and... well, I think this is the proof of a well-crafted game right there. After many failed attempts, I finally managed to 1CC this game (pictures below!!) and it was, genuinely, one of the most satisfying moments in my gaming life <3
So... yeah. I might be a Touhou fan now. Welp.
Touhou VI: The Embodiment of Scarlet Devil was such a pleasant surprise for me: I expected a game I’d find somewhat boring at best and frustrating at worst, but I ended up having a very, very good time, and honestly? It’s not as hard as you’d think it is! You can beat a Touhou game, so long as you are interested in practicing and getting better, and I promise it’ll feel rewarding in the best of ways <3
I just wanna say thank you to Luna Nights and Team Ladybug, because without them, I would have never been curious and then surprised by how cool this game is. Thank you <3
And many thanks to you, the reading, for staying until the end! Thank you for reading!
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The Whore || John Shelby x reader
⤠ MASTERLIST⤟
Anon requested: “11&19 with John boy? cause I miss him “ (I miss him too, my poor heart aches)
Summary: n.11 & 19 from prompt list: “Please, please, please” + “I’ll burn this fucking place down” Warnings: swearing, a lot of angst, prostitution, nudity, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, misogynistic talk, graphic description of signs of physical abuse
Author’s notes:
Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡
So, this request’s been in my mind for ages, and even though I’m not happy with its final part ‘cause it sucks, I’m literally obsessed with this idea, I love it so much that I’ll probably write a long fic about it, right after Contagio, but it will depend on you babes, because, first and froemost, I need to know what you think about this piece. ⤟ IMPORTANT
Please, if you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, talk to someone who can help you, nobody should go through something like that alone.⤟ IMPORTANT
I edited the gif and added the text, it’s not an actual scene from the show, but I thought it could be a good idea, a small detail that could be added to my works. What do you think about it? Pls, let me hear your opinions babeees ⤟
I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!
If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me
I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong
ENJOY!
Birmingham was somehow silent that night, John noticed the unusually empty streets around him, as his feisty pace easily led him towards a well-known destination, his confident steps resounding in between the damp walls of those sordid blocks made of innumerable overcrowded flats. The unmistakable stench of stagnant urine viciously permeated his nostrils, soon causing a disgusted expression to taint his angelic face, while he avidly took the umpteenth drag of smoke from his Cuban cigar and finally stopped his unceasing walk in front of the most renowned brothel in the entire city. For about three years by then, day after day, his life had been perilously circling the drain: things had got totally out of hand, fate had pitilessly thrown him into profound despair, giving life to an apparently endless spiral of darkness and desolation, which was gradually corroding his fragile self, brutally strangling him, rapaciously plundering each of his already strained vital breaths. And, nevertheless, it was beyond hard to blame him for such catastrophic outcomes, after all, he’d scarcely survived the battlefield, only to find himself with a handful of nothing, left alone to deal with a dead wife and four children to raise on his own, while his guts crawled with excruciating grief and ravenous acrimony for the whole world, having him develop a tendency to self-destruction that was just as concerning as it was well concealed. As a matter of fact, in spite of his private hell, he still remained a Shelby, and a Shelby wasn’t meant to be soft, nor weak, none of them could afford to succumb to their affliction, never, not for a moment. They had to be invulnerable.
Or, at least, they had to look invulnerable, for truth was that John was scared, utterly frightened by all those unmerciful changes. Deep inside he felt like a hopeless, undefended child, forsaken by God and discarded to wander that grim world without any destination other than death and misery, thus his blood boiled with virulence and venom, having his heart clench with blind wrath and his devastated young soul desperately long for sort of any distorted kind of unattached affection. That was basically the main reason why his bed was incessantly warm, or more accurately, warmer than it had always been before, because, needless to say, John Shelby had actually been an authentic ladies’ man since his first cry. His stunning beauty constantly teemed on everyone’s lips in Birmingham, there was not a single woman in the whole town who hadn’t dreamt of sleeping with him at least once in her life. Therefore, John was more than happy to please them all, literally, welcoming them with wide open arms, even during his past marriage; and, on those rare times when no girl went to knock on his door, he had now grown accustomed to seek relief into whorehouses, rather than sleep alone and become an easy prey for his ferocious demons.
So he eventually ended up dropping his smouldering cigar on the uneven asphalt of the most rundown place in Small Heath, “Le Belle Donne”, an Italian house of tolerance, quite dilapidated and about to fall to pieces, but which often happened to have his favourite prostitutes. Indeed, ever since the Peaky Blinders had defeated and subjugated Sabini’s clan, they’d occupied a prominent position among the country, to the point that several other Italian gangs on their territory, including the Changrettas who owned that brothel in particular, had finally given in to the Shelbys. As a direct consequence, to put it simply, John and all his brothers had, in a very real sense, earned the full right to abuse of whatever business the wops held.
“Hey, man!” Johnny resonantly barked as he entered the hall, maintaining a pretty intimidating attitude and a menacing look on purpose, in order to strike even greater fear in his newest flunky. “C’mon, show me what you got” That rough order cunningly glided onto his lower lip, immediately followed by his hot tongue, while his famished gaze travelled around the room, examining the face of each harlot standing there with meticulous attention, without however finding something that could come anywhere close to seriously rapture him. Robert Turrini, the whoremaster, was a bizarre bloke, for his physical appearance could be probably described as both disturbing and amusing: his revortingly corpulent stomach wobbled and his short legs dangerously stumbled, when he made haste to stand up and accommodate his toughest client. “Mr. Shelby, what an honour and a pleasure to have you back!” Those sycophant words fled his moist and malodorous mouth, and nonetheless, his stubby fingers inexorably betrayed his true thoughts, since they were either nervously torturing each other or, as only alternative, convulsively running through his greasy, mangy bangs. “Please, sir, follow me, these are for yokels and boozers, nothing to do with gentlemen like yourself” Once again, Turrini’s shrill fawning tone relentlessly grated his ears, making clear reference to the bunch of second-rate whores who could be found at the entrance; thus the lame pimp quickly moved, his hand anxiously beckoning John to tread upon his heels, then headed towards an eerily narrow corridor, so scanty that it was almost impossible to cross, if not walking on the bias. The secret lounge was illuminated only in part by a squalid red light creating a gruesome atmosphere, a dull silence tyrannically reigned into that small space, although you were not alone, but practically glued to another girl; both sitting on a minuscle sofa, your elbows touching, still none of you dared emit a single sound. Everything felt like lead upon your papier-mâché ribcage, that horrible sensation forcing your traumatized brain to involuntarily keep counting the seconds until that heinous burden would’ve potentially staved in your sternum, definitively annihilating your splintered heart. As a result, when the ramshackle door opened and a high-pitched squeak scraped your skin, you really thought to be about to die. Your torturer made his entrance, and right after him, another man came in, yet you couldn’t spot his face, since the peak of his cap designedly casted a mysterious shadow on it. “These two right here, they're real young, real fresh” Robert flaunted his goods along with a nefarious grin, rubbing his soiled paws with evident greed. “Behold the finest offering of flesh and bone on the market” A sadistic snicker repugnantly accompanied his speech, instantly causing John to frown, visibly disgruntled with the way that man deliberately talked about human beings. Luckily, it was a known fact that the middle Shelby was used to treating his women with all due respect: whether he paid them or not, he always made sure they were comfortable with him and never shrank from giving them some good time as well; therefore, a vexed glare was shot in the direction of his gross interlocutor, before his crystalline eyes briefly fluttered around the place, then bumping into your elegant figure almost at once.
Your bloodstream seemed to benumb on the spot as the stranger’s confident stare entangled yours, his rawboned features being now fully displayed, for he had lifted his chin a little in order to properly look at you, and you only, despite Clarissa’s desperate and petulant attempts to get his attention with malicious smiles and ridiculous pet names. Even though your dazed mind had just been ruthlessly brutalized by the sudden, ablaze assault of his glacial irises, a few moments were enough for you to realize how profoundly different he was from all the low-down rats who usually came through that horrible place.
Each sharp, still somehow delicate, trait of his face was brimming with delicious youthfulness, a less keen eye might have even confounded his freshness with actual naivety, but not yours; you were far too clever to make such a coarse mistake. Furthermore, the midnight-blue posh fabric of the classy suit, remarkably folding his majestic body, left gaunt doubt that he was, in all likelihood, a considerably rich man, which was beyond disorientating you, since the price to pay for some tawdry delight in that brothel was outrageously derisory, to say the least. And ultimately, as much as it killed you to conceive it, he was without question one of the most enchanting men you had ever seen, to the point that you found yourself subconsciously wondering the possible reason why a heavenly creature of his kind would’ve needed to buy a miserable hour of dissembled love.
“There she is” That malleable murmur, filled with longing and gratification, furtively sidled past John’s roseate mouth, as its corners seductively bent upwards and his gaze persevered in its praiseworthy commitment to scrupulously linger your finest shape in sheer adoration. Lace and organdy sublimely merged on the light crimson negligee you were wearing, your immaculate form appeared as a beguiling paradox into his dilated pupils, being your long legs lecherously left exposed, while every inch of your porcelain skin, from your lean neck to your groin, was painstakingly disguised by that unholy material, dark and inscrutable, albeit thin enough to allow him to glimpse the inviting turgidity of your nipples. His breath shuddered in awe when he went back to contemplate your aphrodisiac facial features, flushed cheeks and plump lips having him ache with desire, and then your doe eyes flooded by melancholy, strangling his soul with no mercy, entrenching into his brains the treacherous conviction that, at the end of the day, he would’ve gladly dilapidated his fortune, if only to venerate you from afar. “Oi, sweetheart!” His low voice finally rumbled within the walls of that small space, overwhelmingly vibrating into your abdomen, while you forced yourself to swallow the painful lump obstructing your throat and stand up, promptly responding to his command, aware as you had become that rebelling against your pitiable destiny would’ve served no purpose at all. Holding your client’s hand behind your back, but keeping your head down during the whole route, you silently guided him up the spiral staircase to the best room in the house, like you had previously been instructed by your pimp. His jacket and hat were quickly hung on the apposite coat-rack, leaving his muscular top covered with just his white shirt and blue vest, an alluring grin was flashed in your direction and you detected a libidinous sparkle in his irises, as he healed the rift between you at a slow pace. “What should I call you, sweetheart?” He knowingly used the same flattering pet name once more, whispering that barely audible question into your ear, for he was now behind you: his large hands laid around your waist, gently making your back and his vigorous chest fit together, while his skilled mouth brushed forthwith against your nape, drawing an ardent contrail of ephemeral pecks up until your jaw. “Just y/n” You gasped in response, the marked contrast between his warmth and your bitter cold body, along with crippling dread eating you alive, caused your scrambled stomach to squirm and your eyelids to distressingly shut into a frown. “Well, that’s a pretty good one, I’m John, by the way” A lovely, yet hinted giggle fleetingly filled your ears together with that little compliment; there was no record of mockery in his tone, though, it simply sounded like he wanted to be nice to you, without any aspiration of personal gain, and you almost blushed, caught off guard and no longer used to any form of kindness. Nevertheless, it was a matter of instants before another wet, long kiss was pressed on your jawline, making you startle with evident apprehension and, at a later time, definitively back away from him, as soon as you sensed his touch abandoning your hips only to climb your sides, till he reached for your nightgown’s collar and his fingers began to fiddle with its round buttons. “No, I’ll do it!” You curtly gave notice, as you temporarily lost control of both your speech and actions, placing your hands above his in order to shrug them off, then turning to face him with short breath, your open palms shielding you. “I got it” A noticeably softer voice supplanted your preceding rudeness once you gradually metabolised how much damage your incautious reaction could’ve done.
“Aye, aye, darling, as you wish” But John just chuckled, tenderly humouring you, while his forearms jokingly lift in surrender to your commands, although, truth be told, your strange behaviour had left him a bit bewildered, well-nigh confused. Carefully moving backwards, he cockily made himself comfortable on the edge of the double bed, sitting right in front of you with splayed legs, his yearning stare never deflecting from you, and started to unbutton his waistcoat along with his shirt and undershirt, until his statuesque torso was completely nude, in all its glory, as the moon transpired through the curtains and shed its faint rays on his every contour, superbly enhancing all of his muscles.
Without reprieve, he ogled up at you in pure adoration, devastatingly astonished afresh by your dazzling beauty, eager to feel your afire flesh around his, literally hanging on your every word or move, while a provocative smirk steadily rippled his lips. Still, he kept questioning why a seraphic vision like you was slowly withering away in that authentic hell on heart, adamantly squandering your blush of youth amidst that rabble of unrestrained putridity. It made absolutely no sense, and he couldn’t get rid of that pernicious thought haunting his mind ever since he had first seen you: you looked nervous, extremely defensive, almost paralyzed with fear; you seemed so different from all the whores he’d had before, hence his instincts, however obfuscated with cupidity, were screaming that something was wrong. And when he watched you turn your back on him again, so to avoid his penetrating gaze as you reluctantly got undressed, it was enough for him to understand that his execrable hunch was right. Nevertheless, by the time his head managed to eventually reconnect to his mouth, it was already too late, the soft textile of your nightdress ineluctably fell to your feet, leaving you naked under his starving leer.
John choked on his own breath; for the very first time, he felt like a fledgling kid at his earliest experience, no matter if nothing could be further form the truth, in some turbid, cryptic way, you were able to make him vulnerable. His craw went hellishly dry while he continued to gape at you in awe, the sinuous curves of your flawless glutes, the meandering line of your superlatively arched back covered in part by your soft hair, your tensed shoulders and your refined legs, everything about you caused his mind to go entirely black, words stifling in his throat. Yet, as soon as you moved to face him and his sight was blessed with the full view of your voluptuous figure, something altered the light in his cerulean eyes, suddenly making it dark and gloomy. His jaw slightly dropped under the weight of that violent dismay: in conjunction, an obnoxious sense of nausea cruelly shot him in the gut and blind anger virulently assailed him, for your front bust was completely martyrized.
“What the hell...” That unmeant babble died in the gelid air, his shocked orbs demarcating the strokes of your damaged silhouette: your neck and collarbone were horridly plastered with several violet fingerprints, as if someone had mercilessly strangled you over and over, greenish bruises with the shape of full palms circled both your arms, there were conspicuous signs of ligature around your tiny wrists. Worse still, his eyelids had to squeeze a little in order to bring into focus the multiple oxblood dots stigmatizing your soft breasts, until he noticed in horror how those round specks were effectively cigarettes burns; all of the oxygen bluntly withdrew from his lungs, when he dwelled on the multiple blue and black marks barbarically desecrating the protuberances of your ribs. But what irremediably drove him over the edge were the two ghastly scars digging stretched grooves in your lower stomach, in parallel with your bulging pelvic bones and down almost to your livid groin.
Prey of that deleterious humiliation, you observed raw disgust contaminating his features and, with no apparent reason, the dormant hatred you had for yourself began to ferment inside your belly. “I-I’m sorry” you forced yourself to swallow your imminent tears, unexpectedly, the awareness of not being able to please him somehow inflicted more suffering on your mangled soul “If I’m not to your taste, y-you can...” The young man quickly stood up and, before you had the chance to finish your nonsensical sentence, he readily grabbed his shirt, approaching you with dispatch, his cold irises burning with an implausible mixture of fury and concern. “I don’t fucking care right now” His voice was unsteady, rolling down his tongue in fatigued panting, as his hands hastened to wrap his shirt around your shoulders, his trembling fingers struggling to put the buttons through the eyelets “Who did this to you?” In truth, he was talking to himself rather than with you, noticeable impatience worsening his mad tone, yet you persistently steered clear of his inquiring look, more than determined to keep your mouth shut, forasmuch as your dizzy head was already helplessly spinning, along with your heart rabidly hammering against your sore ribcage. You were having a hard time figuring out what was going on, everything around you was so confused, you didn’t even know whether to trust him or not, you only wanted to close your eyes and forget about that lucid nightmare. “I’m not asking you, for fuck’s sake! Tell me who it was!” That searing order tersely brought you back to reality and cleared how easily his rash temper could reemerge; indeed, all of a sudden, no trace was left of that kind, cheerful boy who earlier that night had succeeded in making you genuinely blush, on the contrary, when he cupped your cheeks and vehemently shook you, in a desperate effort to get your attention, his rough, authoritative command unbendingly hit you, and the sweet child within him ended up being thoroughly smothered by the scary, ruthless gangster that he truly was. That unforeseen contact had your feet automatically stagger backwards, your eyes fell to your tiptoes and your teeth started skewering your lower lip, while your exhausted brain resorted to its last ounce of strength, thereby obligating you to spit out a bit of your sorrow. “Three months ago, the man I once called father sold me to settle one of his debts with the Italians” Your thorax seemed to shrink to the point of absurdity once you became aware that it was essentially the first time you allowed yourself to say it all out loud. However, the presence of that compassionate stranger still represented for you a substantial barrier to surmount, leading your unquiet glance to franticly move from the grime on the floor, to the broken window on your left, anywhere, but never daring to meet his. “ I tried to run away, I swear I did, but they always caught me and-”
A large knot callously plugged the bottom of your palate, causing you to hesitate for a minute, gently rubbing your own arms, in attempt to comfort yourself . “Robert has a short fuse, he g-gets pretty brutal when you don’t cooperate” Those disenchanted considerations carried an involuntary grin, it was nothing more than a spasm, but hid the unmistakable sign of an imminent cry, and John’s attentive irises certainly did not let it go unnoticed, yet he chose to stay quiet, because the last thing he would’ve wanted in that crucial moment was to scare you even more. “He beat me to death, each time harder than the time before, and then he let those men-... He-e kept me tied to that bed for days to teach me a lesson” Copious tears were now unremittingly streaming down your flushed face, your heart aching with raw affliction, preventing you from breathing properly, one of your palms instinctively went to cover the space between your breasts, in a vain whirl to ease that excruciating grief. “Oh, God” John simply sighed, he was precariously theetering on the verge of tears as well, thick veins untamedly pumped in the proximity of his temples, till his solid shape ruinously keeled over the longest side of the bed, his elbows piercing his own thighs, as he hid behind his clenched fists and finally permitted himself to indulge a couple of muffled sobs. Innumerable atrocities had clouded his eyes and soul during his brief life, he himself was capable of unspeakable acts of cruelty, still, that was absolutely intolerable, hearing your story was taking a terrible toll on him. Try as he might, he couldn’t conceive how somebody could have been so hopelessly evil, to abuse in such a heinous way a defenseless creature as pure as you were. That thought was irretrievably disturbing him, rancorously eroding his bowels, almost depriving him of his sanity.
“U-until I stopped fighting them” Your last, indescribably anguished whisper struck the fatal blow, it unrelentingly plunged into his chest, sending an unbearable jolt of pain through his poisoned veins. For a brief instant, his expression, together with yours, harshly turned into a mask made of neat despair, as if your synapsis had been ravelled and both of you were enduring the exact same ache, at the exact same moment.
“I’ll fucking kill him!” Then, all at once, something apopletic inside him violently detonated, he berserkly stood up, roughly tripping over the beside table and everything placed on it. “Fucking kill that filthy bastard with my own two hands, bloody hell!” His hoarse yells made your bruised skin cringe and his furious steps covered the whole length of the room in the space of a scant minute; he was literally seething with murderous fits of rage, teeth grinding with irrepressible choler. “No!” your desperate voice erupted afresh and you hurried to reach for him, your hands unconsciously enveloping his cheekbones “Please, please, John, please, stop!” For the first time, his name slipped out of your aching throat in between those pathetic pleads, your wrists forced him to look at you, in attempt to dissuade him from his homicidal purposes; the mere thought of the potential disastrous consequences to his calamitous ire totally asphyxiated you, rampant panic assaulted your frail mind and, soon after, you found yourself hyperventilating and simultaneously rambling a bunch of incoherent words, your fingers gradually tightening their grip on him. “He’s gonna get so angry at me, he’s gonna- he-he’s...” “I’m a fucking Shelby, he does not draw a damn breath unless I say so” He firmly grabbed your chin with just two of his fingers, guiding your depleted pupils to entirely focus on his confident stare, and he growled that undisputable fact a span away from your nose. Petrified by that new awareness, you fell utterly silent, only gawking in his direction, while he put his undershirt back on with ease and rapidly grasped his cap. “Just stay here, do you hear me? Don’t move until I come back” An incandescent kiss was impulsively pressed to your forehead, no other words were spent, before he disappeared behind the door of your private hell. When your persecutor saw his special guest unyieldingly storming towards his desk with a truculent expression exuding fervent disappointment, he jumped on his feet, ready to find a solution to whatever problem had possibly arisen; one thing was sure, he never would’ve guessed what was about to happen. “Mr. Shelby, what’s wron-” John’s fist savagely collided with his jaw, nipping his cloying speech in the bud, without giving Turrini a second to process what was going on, another punch pitilessly smote him, and then another one, and then another, until hot, plenteous blood gushed from his multiple wounds. “You son of a bitch” Animalistic groans left his rabid maws, sheer hate rushing through his brains, as he violently tossed him to the ground, immediately beginning to kick his torso with all of his brute force. “Mercy! I beg of you, sir, have mercy!” His victim’s prayers and harrowing screams barely titillated his ears, everything he could think about was your tragically marred body, hence an unbridled desire to give him a taste of his own medicine completely took over. “Where was your mercy when you were torturing her?” Expertely holding his hat in the most efficient way, in a fury, John went down on his sacrificial lamb, promptly disfiguring just one side of his face, in order to take a quite theatrical pause from his wicked work.
“When she was imploring you to stop?” Robert was now crying out loud, overwhelmed by that merciless agony, reduced to just invoke the glacial scynt of death, since nothing in his entire miserable existence had ever caused him more intense pain, than the coarse perception of a finely sharpened razorblade brutishly lacerating his flesh once more, inch by inch.
“Now bend your ear to this” despite his wrenching laments, John rudely lift him up by seizing the blood stained collar of his jacket “if anyone else but me goes near her fucking room again, I’ll burn this fucking place down!” And with that first, deadly threat the pimp’s head was brutally slammed into the wall, an umpteenth whine of contrition escaping his mouth filled with blood, nevertheless, no time was left for redemption.
“You lay a finger on her again” his skull was doggedly crashed into the bricks once again, a crimson spatter smeared the pale plaster covering them “I will break your neck” John’s knuckles clasped, having his red right hand effectively strenghten its hold on his neck, nearly killing him on the spot. However, fortunately for the whoremaster, Johnny would’ve not put an end to his sufferings, nor he could've simply taken you away, deep inside, he knew he needed to discuss it with his family, first and foremost, with Thomas, for the unstable equilibrium reached by the Peaky Blinder was far too fragile to start a new war against the Italians. Thus, with great difficulty, he forced himself to keep his mind clear and put a lid on his beastly instinct. “From now on, no one of you dirty swines is allowed to even look at her” Throwing him to the floor, the middle Shelby delivered one last kick straight to his fat abdomen, and disrespectfully spit on him, marking with his salt slaver the end of his brutalized prey’s calvary. “By order of the Peaky Blinders” As soon as the crackling door snapped open, your heart seemed to explode, your eyelids bolted with pure fear, whilst you pulled your knees closer to your clavicles, an ancient prayer lingering your lips together with heavy breaths, as you prepared for the worst. But the worst never came. “Y/n, hey, calm down. It’s all right” John’s husky voice echoed in your ears, and, you could’ve sworn it, that was, without the slightest doubt, the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your head abruptly tilted in his direction, an oxymoric mixture of fear and hope twinkling into your watery irises, deep pants still rocking your tiny self. “It’s me, it’s just me” Keeping his arms up to indicate his innocuous purpose, he carefully approached you. Almost immediately, you noticed the several scarlet handprints staining his pale top, eloquent sign that he had tried to wipe his palms on that ivory material as best as he could. Yet, you were so profoundly relieved to see his friendly face, that, to be honest, the sight of fresh blood didn’t upset you at all. It was like you had fallen into a fugue state, every single thing around you was so distant, your numb senses were only able to concentrate on John’s lean silhouette kneeling in front of you. “ No one will hurt you anymore, darling” his hands gently went to caress your thighs, while his worried gaze tirelessly sought yours and he spoke those soft, reassuring words “You need to trust me”. And you did want to put all of your faith in that young man. His delicate flair easily awakened you from that ostensible slumber, building a rousing fire inside your belly; without a thought about your unforeseen actions, you threw your arms around his strong neck, your knees producing a dry sound as they collided with the wooden pavement, still you didn’t care and you held him tight, letting out loud cries and drowning into his muscular chest, finally revelling in the feeling of that warm embrace. Soon, he entangled his callous fingers with your velvety locks, subconsciously narrowing his solid shoulders, as to shield your frangible figure from the outside world. “I'll get you out of here soon, I promise”
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Movie Review: My Summer as a Goth
”If you don’t care what people think, why did you just ask me what I thought?” Overview and Plot My Summer as a Goth is a crowd funded movie directed by Tara Johnson-Medinger. It stars Joey, a morose teen who constantly talks about her dead dad and gets angry when other people talk about her dead dad. Since her mother is a prolific author set to do a book tour, Joey is shipped about 45 minutes out of town to her grandparents' house for the summer. There she becomes interested in the neighbor boy, an even more sullen teen called Victor. Victor notices Joey's interest and whisks her away into the world of goth summer romance. In terms of production, very nice looking film. Professional. I liked that the beginning of the movie looked very washed-out and reflected the mood well, getting warmer as the summer went on. I also loved the texting graphics. The movie was well-paced and a good length, however the passage of time in the movie was a bit odd. VERY soon after the movie says summer starts it’s the Fourth of July, then again only a short time later everyone’s talking about how the summer is almost over. Joey even gets mad at her mother in one instance for not being available in time, but it seems like the mother responded back in about a day while Joey makes it out that it took weeks. The in-movie passage of time was very confusing for me. Most of the characters were well-written with some hiccups mostly on the grandparent’s and Antonio’s end. Costume design was on-point. Sound was fine and the music choices throughout were wonderful. Overall, the film had really good production value.
Moving into spoiler territory, Joey’s grandparents are a ride as they swing from giving Joey hundreds of dollars and baking her pot brownies to telling at her she can’t stay out late and that she needs an exorcism. Antonio, a punk, starts the movie off by getting into a fist fight with Victor, but later becomes a loveable member of the cast. We meet Cob and Pen, the “goth swan couple”. They’re Victor’s friends and a breath of fresh air; despite having morose interests they’re very bubbly and outgoing. I wish more of the movie had them in it. They along with Victor decide to give Joey a makeover and invite her to a few different events over the summer including a silent disco in a graveyard, a party at Pandora’s house, and a concert. They also go on a camping trip with Joey, her grandparents, and one of Joey’s high school friends. Eventually, Joey gets annoyed with Victor’s constant toxic attitude and finds out he’s cheating on her. Everything’s fine in the end as the summer comes to a close and she goes back to school with Antonio as her new boyfriend and her new, darker look.
Joey the babybat has daddy issues. In the beginning Joey feels acts catty and defensive about everything. Don’t worry, she never really grows out of that. Pretty much everything about her revolves around either the fact that her father is dead or her relationship with Victor. She does have an art hobby that’s shown throughout the movie but she seems almost embarrassed by it? It’s never actually brought up by any characters and no one ever looks through her sketchbook or shows interest in it. Which I found really odd because a lot of the goths I know in real life tend to be pretty creative and would love it? Anyway, she falls head-first into goth because of a boy. I know that’s how some people get into the subculture, but it kind-of sours the movie because it seems like she also only stays in the subculture because of the boy. In the beginning she mentions liking the music and how it helps her express how she feels inside, but other than Victor, we really don’t get to see how she thinks about the subculture. She’s friends with Cob and Pen because they’re Victor’s friends. She goes to events because Victor goes. She dresses up because Victor wants her to. But once Victor is out of the picture, why does she stay? Other than the passing mention of music at the beginning, she really has no interest in the goth scene. She’s never shown engaging with the scene on her own terms, and I find that a little disappointing. When I was a babybat I was reading goth blogs like Stripy Tights and Dark Delights, I was trying to get my hands on back issues of Gothic Beauty, I was watching a ton of different youtubers talk about the scene and I just wanted more. There’s none of that with Joey save for a short scene where she watches tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up. (Which, admittedly was really cute.) I didn’t understand WHY Joey stays a goth at the end of the movie and I think it’s because the movie really didn’t portray the positive aspects of the subculture as much. Also, Joey needs to work on her attitude problem. She mentions her dead dad quite a bit at the beginning and gets upset when other people mention it back to her. At the end of the film she calls her mom over heartbreak and when her mom tries to talk about it with her, she acts sarcastic and shuts her mother out, getting mad that she reached out at the wrong time. I’m unsure if it was just Joey going back to her old coping strategies or if she was in the right because I have no idea how much time had passed since the phone call. I’ll never know. Either way, she does dump Victor which is nice and she reconciles with her mother as well. I do like that she feels more comfortable with herself at the end of the movie and begins doing things on her own terms, even if others don’t “get it”. Victor is a VERY well-written, manipulative dick. Storytime! So, there weren’t many goths at my college and we never really had any classes together, but I remember seeing this one kid walking across the street to the art buildings with a flowing black velvet cape over their backpack, an unlaced black poet shirt, platinum white hair in a side-hawk, knee-high black leather boots and a TON of silver jewelry. Honestly, they would have looked so cool if their harem pants weren’t made of chiffon and completely see-through. (Batman boxers!) Seeing Victor for the first time immediately reminded me of that. Over the top, charming, charismatic and a bit silly. I liked him at first. His wit is dry and in the beginning he didn’t take himself of the subculture TOO seriously, making jokes about vampires. I liked that he seemed to be having fun chatting about music and dressing up Joey. And then there came the lipstick. Honestly, the lipstick was used absolutely perfectly to show how the relationship is souring and how manipulative Victor really is. It really is a gradual showing of how things are going south in their relationship and how Victor isn’t as much as a downcast victim as he puts on. Later on in the movie he starts reminding me of that Bruiser sketch where there’s two goths and one of them is just badgering the other one that he can’t take his sweater off in the summer or join in on seasports because it’s “not goth”. He begins chastising Joey for not looking perfect at all times or not knowing things about the subculture despite the fact that he just dresses her up and brings her to parties instead of actually trying to integrate her to the local scene or teaching her about music or history. Eventually he goes back to hooking up with Pandora, something he apparently does frequently because Joey is not the first person he’s cheated on and literally everyone in town warns Joey about it. Victor clearly has a massively inflated ego and you love to hate him in the end. There are definitely his type in goth scenes around the world and I can see how he stays in good graces with the other asshole friends he has. Some people just really like being elitists. The one thing I can’t figure out, though, is why Pen and Cob are friends with him. They’re so nice compared. A punk by jacket only and why casual homophobia makes me salty. Antonio is... hoo boy, is he a thing. First introduced starting a fight with Victor you think, "Ah, this is the antagonist of the movie. I wonder why they made the punk an asshole? Usually punks are okay with goths." Luckily for us, he apologizes for the outburst and becomes a friend of the main cast. We learn he likes canasta and plays guitar. Oddly, he doesn't seem to have any punk patches or pins on his jacket and never actually mentions punk music. He does, however, mention goth music and he seems familiar with the other goths in town going to their events, so it seems he's on good standing with them despite bullying the goths at the beginning of the film. Seeing as goths would rather pretend to be haughty vampires than get their tail coats in a twist, Antonio makes for a heroic figure in the movie when Joey is in trouble. In my notes I wrote, "Ten bucks says punk kid is gonna save her,” and lo and behold, Antonio comes out of nowhere to save Joey from some bullies. I do like that he uses his rough appearance to his advantage to help people and do the right thing. That pretty accurately describes every punk I’ve ever met. They look tough as nails, but you’ll only see that side of them if you absolutely deserve to.
It's also revealed that Antonio is not straight as he's seen making out with some guy at a concert, mentions having had a previous relationship with Victor, and is being made fun of for being gay in the end. He also ends the film by being Joey's boyfriend. Pardon, what? I'm kind-of tired of this heteronormative nonsense where movies have to end with all main characters (Sans the villain, of course.) end up in a happy straight relationship. Joey's non-goth friend who's in the movie for a very short amount of time also ends up with a goth boyfriend because happily-ever-after and all that. It probably wouldn't have sat as poorly with me if they didn't make fun of Antonio for "looking gay" which in context makes no sense since he's pretty gender conforming compared to the goth men in the film. It also didn’t help that there were comments about lesbians at the beginning of the movie. At one point Joey's grandparents suggest she might like girls and Joey rebukes it with vitriol saying her grandparents are "too cool". The same kind of vitriol you hear when a straight person tells you they could never imagine being gay, that's disgusting. Oh, but they support your "choices", hm? I just wish Antonio’s character was a bit more fleshed out and he didn’t end up being back-up male love interest that’s only there to save female lead from bad guys and heartbreak. First rule of Goth Music is you don’t talk about Goth Music? The movie introduces goth along with music. The music in the film is honestly really good and a good portrayal of what goths actually listen to. Joey mentions she likes the music near the beginning and she goes to events such as a silent disco, a party, and a concert. Despite music obviously being a major source of community in the movie, no one actually talks about it other than that one instance of Joey mentioning she likes it. No one suggests bands to her or actually goes to the parties or concerts to do anything other than make out. The silent disco is the only real instance of them listening and dancing to the music and it feels like it's over in a flash. Though, the corny goth dance moves in that scene kind-of make up for it. At one point Antonio pulls out a guitar and asks if Joey wants him to play “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”. She mentions she’s never heard of it which leads Antonio to ask if she’s new to the scene. At another point in the party, Joey asks someone if they like Marylin Manson. While this is an obvious faux pas to anyone actually in the goth scene, no one actually engages with her in conversation about it. How was Joey supposed to know his music isn’t goth? Wasn’t she listening to goth music earlier at the silent disco? Or the music she said sounded pretty from Victor’s room when they met? How did she get this far liking these bands but not noticing that they sound nothing like Marylin Manson and did she never look them up on her own to listen to them later? She obviously likes them, so it really surprises me that she only got in the goth scene for a guy.
Robert Smith NEVER has smeared lipstick. /s The emphasis on appearance is a little annoying throughout the movie, but I guess it had to be. It fits Victor's personality to change Joey's personal style to match his, and the makeover scene was fun, but I wish there would have been more diversity in the cast of townie goths who attend the parties, concerts, and discos. I counted one person with blonde hair and a small handful of older goths. I didn't notice any non-white goths and unfortunately the movie placed quite the emphasis on pale skin and trying to avoid tanning. I know people like the white face along with dark make-up and looking vamp-ish, but when all your characters are in white greasepaint and there's no PoC to be seen in goth garb it sends a message that only white people can be goth and that's really something we need to kill in the subculture. I did, however, like the wardrobe choices. I liked that Joey got her wardrobe from a thrift store and that she dyed a top she already owned. She looked up tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up and it never looked perfect. That's a good thing. Baby Bats won't know how to do a bats nest hairstyle, they won't know to blend foundation to the neck, and they won't have a perfect eyeliner wing. No one mentioned alt-brand name clothing and no one had a perfectly couture outfit that media likes to sell as a stereotypical goth teenager. The goths actually looked like goths. Their wardrobes were things you'd actually see in a club and we get to see that they wear a plain black tank top and shorts when milling about the house, only breaking out the corsets and top hats for big events. The older goths were more well put together and that makes sense because they've been in the subculture longer and have had time to figure out what they like and what looks good on them. The costuming department did a really great job with this. Ah, but as a side note about wardrobe, who donates brand new, tall Docs to a thrift store??? You can’t sit with us. And sadly, the worst part of Goth in the movie- community. What was that, film? Other than the three main goths, we only get to see other goths at large events and they all seem a bit catty? You have the silent disco, which was cute but no one really spoke to or interacted with each other. Pen and Cob are kind-of doing their own thing throughout no matter who they’re with. We also have the house party and the concert. The other goths there are.... pretty much just there to be judgy because Joey’s new? The first time I went to a club in a new city and didn’t know anyone some random person grabbed my hands and dragged me to the dancefloor. It was fun! People would ask the DJ what he was spinning and they weren’t shamed for not knowing. If someone’s jacket ripped, five people would come out of the woodwork with a safety pin and afterwards we’d all pile into Denny’s and laugh and joke and talk about nothing. I’m not saying there’s no “Gothier-than-Thou” types, believe me I’ve met more than a few, but in a movie that’s trying to portray someone WANTING to become a goth, why not portray the subculture as more inviting? Also, with the comments from Victor and a few other remarks, it seems like alcohol is needed to blend into the goth scene, and that definitely isn’t the case. Sure, a lot of us love absinth or a snakebite in black, but it’s not needed to fit in with the cool kids at the club. The community really is my favorite thing about this subculture and I feel it was a disservice that most goths were showcased as uninviting. I can understand Joey not being wanted at the party initially as she wasn’t invited in the first place and perhaps the eldergoths in the room didn’t want to have to have an impromptu etiquette and history lesson with a babybat when they’re supposed to be relaxing, but the point of the movie was to showcase why Joey wants to be a goth. She never makes friends outside of Victor’s immediate group and never tries to find community or information about the scene online or anything. I guess that is how babybats do act a lot of the time, but again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, the point of the movie is showing why someone would WANT to be a goth. Final Thoughts. The goth scene in the movie looked like a regular goth scene. I liked the emphasis on thrifting and DIY and that newcomers don’t come out of the womb knowing the lyrics to the entirety of Floodland. The music was phenomenal. I liked that the music featured was goth music, but not the main five bands that everyone already knows. I liked that the events attended were focused mainly around music. I liked seeing actual goth dance moves on screen. I liked that people in the movie did use terminology found in the subculture and made jokes about the subculture that insiders would actually make. I liked that Pen and Cob were wonderfully peppy despite their dark interests, I liked that we got punk-goth solidarity. I liked that it did remind me a bit of my babybat years and got me missing clubs and events. I miss all my friends... I really do...
I was put off by the passage of time in the movie, Joey’s cattiness with anyone who tries to help her, the light and casual homophobia sprinkled in, and the negative-leaning portrayal of the goth community. Other than that, though, I did think it was a good movie with a satisfying ending and I would really suggest people check it out. It’s probably the most accurate portrayal of goths in any media, really, and it’s worth a watch. At the very least, go listen to the soundtrack on BandCamp.
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