#sorry i am never normal about terrifying fictional characters

[loderlied]

KALINA MY WORSTIE MY BELOATHED MY FAVORITE FH AND D20 IN GENERAL CHARACTER I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SEE YOU AGAIN I’M LYING ON THE FLOOR FROTHING AT THE MOUTH SOMEONE HELP

[yanderelmk]

tw; mentions of pedœphilia, and gr∞ming

I got sick and slept for a few days to come back to this blog to someone trying to argue how simping/lusting for a minor character isn't pedophilia??? so a very bare bone but decent enough reasoning as to why the annon or annon's are wrong.

- 1 - it is, by definition, it is. there's not if's, and's, or but's about it. yes it's a fictional character, but it is still a child, so by definition you are defending pedophilia.

- 2 - children characters, regardless of how old they are in human years, if they are defined as a child by their species or peers, it's a child, point blank. so the whole "but they lived so and so years" argument, is an empty excuse to to be a pedophile without the repercussions of your actions or the judgment of your vile behavior.

- 3 - I'm 19, going onto 20, if I see a child character, I don't think about them past "damn, it's a kid" or "wow, that's my sibling now" because thinking past that is disgusting and concerning. the absolute worst I've done, is aged up characters to feel comfortable with the idea of being *friends* with them because I don't feel comfortable being friends with anyone 2 years younger than me.

- 4 - fiction, can bleed into reality. people who engage in that style of "content" can and most do, act on it. that's why it is repulsive and vile, by defending it you are actively encouraging it and putting real children at risk.

- 5 - what if it was you? seriously, what if it was happening to you? what if it was your best friend or a younger family member? would you be comfortable with it then? if you can't say you'd be okay with something in that context, with nothing else changing but the person it was happening to, then clearly something about the situation is wrong, and if you cannot understand that, you need help.

a child, is a child.

children, cannot consent because they don't understand, their minds aren't developed enough to understand and quite frankly, it's repulsive and terrifying that someone has tried to defend this behavior. worse if it was more than one person. I am not speaking from a place of "moral superiority" but from the place of a past victim, I was groomed as a kid. it was a terrible experience that haunts me to this day to the point I no longer celebrate my birthday anymore. 3 years of my childhood was lost to someone I thought I could trust, and so did my family and I am lucky that they never went all the way with me despite their best efforts. and if you think a monster ruining a person's life is okay, I hope you get the help you need. it is on the adult for behaving in such a repulsive manor and to the annon or annon's trying to argue that this is okay behavior, I hope you seek out therapy and get the help that you so clearly need. this isn't okay by any means and the fact you are trying to defend it speaks volumes to what kind of monster you are.

good on the owner of this page for discontinuing the content that led to this issue, you are a good person for doing this and I am genuinely very grateful that you have done this. I'm sorry for the petty and idiotic drama it has caused you. I hope things stop and you get to go back to your normal life and get to enjoy the things you enjoy without dealing with grimey monsters who try to defend other monsters like them.

- 🪷

AMEN, YOU BETTER PREACH, SEND A BUCKET AROUND Also thanks for the kind words! I've been doing my best to get my steam back up and going. I'm working on one of the more detailed requests bit by bit. I've noticed a small drop in followers since the post and tbh all I can think of is "Wow so all of those people were so mad about not being able to sex up a minor they went to pout off when someone had a reasonable reaction to something absolutely despicable and horrific." See ya, you creeps won't be missed! I'm sorry to hear that you're a victim, as a fellow survivor I hereby bump my fist with yours in solidarity. To anyone who still wants to try to dig their heels in, allow me to present a question: Do you not think it weird that you are fighting and kicking and screaming for the "right" to draw/write porn for a character of dubious age when there are PLENTY of confirmed of-age characters? To the specific point of the 'immortal who looks like a child' argument: Why are you so obsessed with proving that a religious deity (in the case of Nezha)/fictional character who is clearly physically/mentally a minor can have sex or do sexual things? Get your head out of the pants of kids and into a Bible cuz y'all clearly need some form of Jesus.

[moedollita]

pet peeve

sorry this post just turns into insane ranting garble i start sounding like im 12 , theres nothing of substance to read

this is something insanely stupid and even hypocritical of me to get annoyed at , but i absolutely cannot stand it when people online pretend like they're more mentally ill than they are . i hate when people put some sort of mental illness wordsalad in their bios like ' jirai ' , ' landmine girl ' , ' menhera ' i hate when people obviously try to act like ame / kangel after playing NSO or some other fictional character when they were absolutely nothing like them before . they practically brag about being mentally ill and then only showcase the same 5 symptoms that are insanely fetishized and none of the 100 others that aren't as ' cute ' . it makes me lose my mind . it feels like such a disgusting mockery it makes me want to rip my skin open . i cant stand even imagining anyone could see these shitty obvious yandere larp posts and put op on the same level as someone whos actually struggling . just this unbridled rage festers inside of me you dont know what its like stop fucking quoting anime characters so you can achieve some aesthetic go fuck yourself

i hate it because i hate myself and i hate the things i do , witnessing someone grift on the KAWAII DESU symptoms while im on a private twitter account typing the most disgusting unforgivable things i can possibly conjure up about the people i love because of how angry i feel over something so idiotically , stupidly minuscule like an actual fucking child . i cant make a single friend in my life because im genuinely so terrified of people and their intentions with me that when i somehow make a friend i genuinely think that they're only playing some long con because they want to ruin my life . im so lonely but i legitimately cannot handle having friends because they can say ANYTHING and my mind will twist it to some insane act of pure hatred against me and then my hands are shaking and i cant focus on anything for the next few hours and i cant stop crying and cutting myself and im planning extensively how to tell them i cant be friends with them because i just cant take it anymore and oh nevermind suddenly im fine again . but at the same time if someones too nice all the time my fucking brain will start losing interest in them because apparently i NEED them to pull away from me and be a fucking asshole to me because im some sort of insane emotional masochist !!! i cant speak my mind with anyone even if they're obviously in the wrong and being mean to me when ive done nothing because i just know they're going to leave if i reciprocate with any sort of pushback so i just ghost them instead which makes the situation even more complicated or i have some sort of tantrum where i accuse them of the most schizotypal shit instead of actually discussing it like a normal person . its actually indescribable how embarassing it is to retain that " my parents didnt buy me candy so they hate me " mindset from when i was 8 years old all the way until 15 . and everything with me has to be some sort of extreme . i cant even like something normally i have to be obsessed with it to an emotionally deteriorating degree . i cant feel somewhat bad about something it had to feel like my world is ending and that ill never be happy again . why am i fucking feeling like this because of the sub count of a VTUBER . and then all of life is just a cycle of yearning for shit and feeling bad for myself " why cant i do this why cant i be better at this you can either be bad or a prodigy and im not a prodigy and i dont care if im 15 i need to be better than 28 year olds at this or else im a total fucking failure " and i fucking bet you if i would ever reach that prodigy status i would feel absolutely nothing about it and my brain would latch unto the next thing to feel bad about " ok well im not good at * that * i need to be good at * that * it doesnt matter if im good at * this * anyone can be good at * this * i need to be good as * that * as well " . it is legitimately either all or nothing with me and i cant stand either of those options . i hate feeling empty and i hate being obsessed with someone to the point of emotional spiraling 5 times a day but there can never be an inbetween option . im intensely angry about everything

and the most insanely retarded part about all of this , is that given the choice i wouldnt want to get better . this is all that i am . i am nothing without this disorder . if i dont have this disorder nobody will care about me or be gentle with me anymore . i will forever mentally be a child that only wants someone to take care of them and if i dont have this disorder there will be nothing to take care of . nobody will care . but heres the kicker ; nobody cares already . strangers are gentle with me because i have a sad look in my eyes but thats all there is . i just cant bring myself to actually talk about what i go through . all anyone sees is that im energetic and then suddenly sad within an single second interval or that i just stare ahead at shit like a zoo animal or that i cut myself sometimes . i cant even fully bring up and elaborate on extremely heavy topics that i go through on twitter or on this blog because it feels so wrong to imagine someone connecting something as dark as that with * me * . i want attention but i dont talk about shit . i dont want to talk about shit . i already utterly despise seeing the look people get in their faces when they somehow catch a glimpse at my sh scars or for gods sake fucking mentions it to me " dont do that to yourself " please dont worry about me and make me feel like a horrible burden when im trying my hardest to seem okay so i can be an enjoyable person to be around . having a person worried about someone as disgustingly rotted , parasitic and inhuman as me is the worst thing to inflect on someone , its like feeling bad for a dying cockroach . i mean just read the first part of this ramble to see how shitty of a person i am where i exaggerate my symptoms to make myself look like i suffer more than other people and put down anyone who dares to express their symptoms differently

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW // derealization/dissociation. Also maybe maladaptive daydreaming? Idk if it counts.

Hi, my name is Travis. I'm mostly just here because I don't really know anyone irl who will listen, so I was hoping I could find someone here. Also, if any of this is normal and I'm just overreacting, please let me know.

I am in a constant state of being disconnected from everything. I don't know when it started, or exactly why, but everything always feels empty. Other people just feel like mannequins/npcs, and the world itself just feels like checkpoints and not real places. It feels like the only real thing is me, and it's gotten so bad that I even feel disconnected from my emotions. I have to actively and consciously acknowledge my surroundings to snap out of it, but once I stop I immediately go back to not viewing as real.

It's like I'm living in a shell 24/7, and whenever something punctures that shell, like my emotions or the realization that other things are real, I hardly know how to cope. It usually results in me trying to disconnect myself from reality again by drowning my thoughts in fiction, or I end up lashing out. I think it also might be affecting my empathy/ sympathy, given that I hardly experience either, at least based on the definitions I've been given.

Most of the time my mind is completely preoccupied with fantasy stories I've made up, or it's preoccupied with ways I can engage with those stories (the reason I'm hesitant to call this maladaptive daydreaming is because I'm almost never in these stories, it's just fictional characters) I can hardly focus most of the time because of it.

Again, I don't know when or why these things started, but it's become such a prevalent part of my life that lacking these things feels terrifying.

Hi Travis,

I'm sorry about what you've been going through.

Please know you're not alone. A few years ago I could relate almost entirely to this. I just felt fake and that everything around me was fake, and it just felt like I was dreaming most of the time. It can be frightening and disorienting to live with this kind of dissociation.

I found this resource you may find useful on how to deal with depersonalization. Some things it recommends is to acknowledge your feelings using self-compassion exercises, take deep breaths and practice mindful breathing exercises, listen to music or read a book, challenge any intrusive thoughts using psychological distancing, call a friend, seek talk therapy, read up on the effects of depersonalization, make sure you're getting adequate sleep, practice meditation, or exercise. Of course some of these may only offer temporary relief, but they could be helpful in learning to manage and cope with these symptoms.

If you can access and afford it, and if you don't have it already, I recommend looking into getting a therapist. A mental health professional could help not only assess the level of dissociation you're experiencing but help you cope with it with the guidance of an expert. It may be especially important to get in touch with a professional in case this dissociation leads to a complete disconnect from reality.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, please feel free to add on. Otherwise I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[spookypotato]

Leo’s 20th Birthday

Sooo It’s already the baby’s birthday here and I dont want to wait, so let the fluff begin!

Happy birthday, Leo! ☀️💛 Nutter butter baby! He will always be the baby, but technically he’s not even a teen anymore. Anyway. I hope you enjoy.

Birthday-boy and boyfriends by the incredible @lumosinlove

Idea from @noctualilith thank you

Yes, I am excited about a fictional characters birthday. Everyone that knows this ray of sunshine would fall in love. 

CW: there is a bit of food mentioned

When Leo was 13, he celebrated his birthday with all of his best friends. Eloise made him a lemoncake and Wyatt took them out on the boat to go swimming. It was the last birthday, where he felt completely free in his actions.

When Leo was 14, he got his first crush. The first one he realised was a crush at least. He told no one. He was too afraid, not even of the teesing. He was afraid, because it was a boy. His friend to be exact. His birthday party was fun for him, he didnt know about the other guests. He focused on his friend. He wanted to spend the whole party with him. And they were friends, he could. So he did and he had fun.

When Leo was 16, he decided to tell his friend. Since they spent so much time together, his crush never really faded, so after two years he just decided fuck it. If it went horribly wrong, he didn‘t care anymore. He needed this out of his system. So Leo told him. His friend didn‘t feel the same, but he didn‘t seem to mind about Leo. He did tell him however, that it should rather be kept a secret, because if the others found out, he might even be thrown off the team. This was what terrified him. Before, he was scared of maybe loosing his friends, now he was scared of loosing everything. He‘d worked so hard for being where he was. He had a chance of playing in the NHL, if he kept it up, at least that‘s what his coach was telling him. So he decided to hide it.

When Leo was 17, he told his family. Leo gathered all his courage and told them at a family lunch. They had the best reaction he could have wished for, really, but he had lived to long thinking it‘s a bad thing, so he assumed they were just being nice parents. When they made him a bracelet however, he knew they hadn‘t lied. They wouldn‘t have thought about giving him this gift, if they had been disapointed in their son. They showed him, they were proud. He knew now, whatever happend, he would have his family standing behind him, supporting him. He could at least be open about his feelings, where it mattered the most, home. He could let himself go, gush about that cute boy he saw in the coffee shop and feel excepted everytime his father mentioned Leo at his age, settled down with his maybe-husband by then, possibly with children, running around in their backyard.

When Leo was 18, he got drafted into the NHL. His dream came true. All the sacrifices he had made to get there, were finally worth it, because he could turn his passion into his career. All the boys, he had forced himself not to look at for too long, so people wouldn‘t even question him. All the girls he had pretended to be interested in, those moments were worth it. He felt amazing. He achieved what he had worked for, but now he was facing a new problem. Even though Leo was a gay teenager, the naked guys walking around weren‘t actually a problem for him. Well, not all of them. Of course, the world was against him and chose two incredibly attractive people, who he couldn‘t even look at too long, nevermind kiss or date, to go with his NHL-goalie-gryffindor-dream package. He had to prove everyday how much he wanted to play hockey and how much he was willing to sacrifice.

Before Leo turned 19, he was hiding. He lived a dream, that slowly broke his heart. He was playing professinal hockey and loved it everyday, but he was also pretending everday, that he didn‘t want. So he hid it, because hockey was his dream and now was the time for hockey. He could probably still find a nice boyfriend at 40 years old, if they even kept him that long. For now he planned on staying focused on his career.

But before Leo turned 19, he also decided to just throw those plans out the window and kiss Finn. He hadn‘t planned it- not to say he didn‘t want to do it- it just shouldn‘t have happen, but it did. The second their lips touched though, he forgot why he shouldn‘t have done it. How could this not be right, when Finn and Leo both wanted it so much.

For a moment, at the airport he was reminded, why it was wrong. Why he couldn‘t risk it now. But then he thought about it. Thought about how much happier Sirius had been, how even a NHL player could have, what Leo wanted. And so he tried his best to get it.

And he did.

His 20th birthday was a wednesday.

Leo‘s eyes opened in one go and his feet jerked up.

„Logan!“, he groaned sleepily. The brunet had bellyflopped onto him, shaking him awake in an instant.

„Leo, Baby, Peanut, Nutty, Butty!“, Logans face looked like he had surprised himself with the last name, „That‘s a new one, but it works“, repositioning himself better on his boyfriends chest, hands supporting his head, he smiled dopely up at Leo.

Leo let his eyes slip closed for another second, Logans weight grounding him and his warmth surrounding him. It was too early. They had practice and he knew that, but it seemed earlier than usual. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at their alarm clock.

„Logan!“, he groaned again, as he saw, that they were awake an hour too early.

Logan shifted, having layed down his head on Leo‘s chest, he tilted his head up to look at the blond.  „As much as I love that my name is the only thing on your mind right now, a, Finn must be getting jealous and b, we did actually have a reason to wake you earlier.“ Then Logan leaned up and started trailing lingering kisses up his boyfriends neck over his jaw, finally reaching his mouth.

Leo happily complied and kissed him slowly. They broke apart to soon in Leo‘s opinion, but it was all worth it to just see as Finn came in through the door, still only dressed in his underwear. He was carrying a small box, wrapped in newspaper and a bright yellow bow tied around it. He sat down on the end of the bed and Logan moved off of Leo and next to the red head. They looked at him expectantly. He sat up slowly.

„Happy Birthday, Baby!“, both Logan and Finn more or less shouted as soon as Leo looked at them.  He was a bit overwhelmed, but then remembered. Today was his birthday. He hadn‘t really celebrated it for a few years, he didn‘t even know why. This however, warmed his heart. Both the boys he loved so much, beaming at him from the end of the bed.

„You know how hard it is to keep up a normal conversation with you, before saying that? I promised this one though“, he shoved Finn playfully, „that I would wait for him to finish everything. But I had to wake you! It‘s your birthday! Happy birthday, Peanut!“

Leo wasn‘t even sure if Logan had taken a breath in between his rambling but he smiled softly at them. Felling their love warming him, even through the distance between them.

„You already said that.“, Leo commented, but smiled, „Thank you both so much. Come here.“

They both more or less jumped at him, Leo recieving the best cuddles and a few more whispered ‚happy birthday“s from Logan and Finn, until they were all wrapped around each other, Leo in the middle. It felt nice to be in the middle for once. He held Logan securely in his arms, slowly stroking a hand over his side, Finn wrapped up around him, making him feel warm and protected. He liked being the big spoon and having Logan in the middle, but he could see himself sneaking in the middle every once i a while.

„We can still sleep for a bit.“, he heard Finn say from behind him. He had gotten the blankets over them again and was already burrying his nose in between Leo‘s shoulder blades. „Sorry for waking you this early, Nutty. We had to prepare things.“, Finn stopped for a second, like waiting for Leo‘s reaction, but then continued, „and we just couldn‘t wait to cuddle you.“

Leo made a soft noise, his hand combing through Logans hair, who was already back to sleep, really more like you expected from an excited baby, rather than a professinal hockey player. It was only then, Leo thought about what Finn had said. Under normal circumstances Leo might have sat up upruptly and ran to the kitchen, to the inevitable mess that must be there.

„Whatever it is you did-“, Leo started, but then thought again.

He was surrounded by love, on his birthday. The love he had always desired to have, espcially on his that day. All the fun events couples in movies had planned for each other to make their birthdays special, he had always wished for that. He had always thought, he could never have that, but now he did. He had it doubled.

Snuggling back further into Finns chest he repeated, already drifting back to sleep, „Whatever it is you did, thank you.“

[imagine-your-love-story]

Thank you for encouraging a safe space on Tumblr. It might seem like basic courtesy to leave people be, leave them their comfort and creative freedom, but apparently it's not. As someone who has very questionable self ship poly dynamics, it's.. nice not being scared of seeing "Don't interact if this- dont interact if that" and then in danger of harrassment.

Please keep spreading these vibes of comfort and love - you're a great person whom we need a lot more of in the world wide web

You're very welcome, lovely! :) :) :)

Hoo boy. I have...soooo many thoughts on like....ALL of this. And this post is gonna get LONG because I've opened the can of worms and I'm lettin' it all out :P

The amount of bullying and negativity I've seen in the selfshipping community lately is very painful and disappointing to watch. Tumblr and fandom has always been somewhat of a cesspool but I had hoped that selfshipping was a little better.

I'm not seeing a positive community on a large scale right now.

There are some people who are shining little stars out there of course! But there's more hate being spread around than I can stomach.

I've spent Y E A R S researching and unlearning and pushing back against the psychological and emotional effects of manipulative behaviors like: blame, guilt, shame, and harassment.

I absolutely 100000% believe you can speak to people civilly and state your reasons why you think their behavior is damaging. Without telling them, "You are wrong. You are a bad person." Or otherwise making them feel shitty about themselves.

And I also believe that you CAN allow that person to say, "I don't agree with what you're saying" and you can still have normal interactions with that person without immediately shunning them and labeling them as a terrible person.

People BLOSSOM when they are showered in love, acceptance, and understanding. People are MUCH more willing to listen and heed what you have to say when you give them SPACE to see your point of view (or disagree with you and still accept them).

This culture on social media where people jump STRAIGHT to, "You're a HORRIBLE person because you do something I disagree with!" is, frankly, horrifying and a little disgusting.

Does this mean I condone negative and damaging behaviors?

No. Absolutely not.

But there seems to be this loss of perspective on what is considered "negative and damaging behaviors".

1. It's fiction. Fiction has NEVER been "clean". It's a place of freedom to discuss EVERYTHING.

2. You don't have to feel comfortable with everything being discussed in fiction. I'm not. If I don't like a self-shipper's content because it hits some trigger buttons for me...I don't follow their blog. Because that's my boundary and I have every right to it.

Do I send them messages saying, "You're a toxic person!"

Nope.

Do I comment on their ship that they love and say, "This makes me uncomfortable!"

Nope.

It's not my business.

Also: it’s fiction and there are MUCH bigger problems that require my energy than whether or not I should correct someone’s fictional ship.

Go save the ocean.

Go save the rainforest.

Go save the planet you live and breath on.

Fiction should not be making you angry enough to send hate mail to someone else. Full stop. That should never ever be a priority.

3. Some people engage in selfshipping "negative behaviors" as a way to cope with their trauma. We have no idea what a person has been through and we have no right to tell them that they should stop what they're doing when we do not know where they are on their journey of healing.

It hurts my heart so, so much when I receive messages from selfshippers like you, dear anon, who are TERRIFIED to share their love stories with their characters because they're afraid of being labeled/attacked/harassed by the community.

That's the community letting you down. That should NOT be happening and I'm so sorry you're feeling that way, lovely.

The ENTIRE point of selfshipping was to ESCAPE the people who criticized for shipping yourself with a character that you love. The foundation of selfshipping is that ANYTHING is possible!!! You are limitless!!!

And now people are policing what you can do??? That's...that completely obliterates the point of selfshipping. That's WHY we escaped to our own community!

I don't know if this video is available outside of the U.S., but I highly recommend, the Crappy Childhood Fairy's Youtube video on Cancel Culture. It's a great listen when you're navigating the emotional turmoil of social media culture.

So, if you're still reading after ALL OF THAT :P here are some key points about this blog and my philosophy when it comes to selfshipping:

This blog will always be a judgment free zone

Of course I have opinions! Of course we may disagree on something! But I won't judge you for it. You're allowed to do your own thang! ;)

I will never have a DNI.

If I feel an interaction is crossing into territory that isn't appropriate or acceptable, I'll say so. And if that doesn't work, I'll block and report. But I will never have a DNI on this blog.

Yes, I am an adult. So if minors don't feel comfortable following my blog, it's okay if they don't! I understand!

But I don't have a problem talking with minors because they are human beings and they may need support. I worked in Youth Services at a library for over two years. I know sometimes kids just want someone to talk about cool books and movies with and I'm 100% down for that 24/7 :)

Because this blog is all-ages friendly, I will never post 18+ content because - just like IRL - I make sure that I am mindful of the people around me. I may post some suggestive content that is tagged, but I try not to get too explicit.

I also don’t really think a DNI is necessary for me personally. Of course if I feel threatened by someone, I won’t interact with that person. But if a shipper is into content that I don’t like???? I don’t feel the need to say, “I will never interact with you!” That’s....exhausting. Besides, there are plenty of other things we can chat about! :)

I will always share f/os.

I know some people don't like to share and that's their boundary they can draw if they want to (no shade here!), but I've found that if I don't share, it's a very lonely experience. So I always share and I’m happy to interact if we have the same f/o :)

DMs are always open if you need a shoulder to lean on

If you need to dump or vent or whatever, my DMs will always be open so you can chat! It can feel weird, and maybe you'll feel bad because you won't know what to say!!!

That's okay :)

Even if all you want to do is vent and never reply, I'm happy to listen and offer any words of encouragement and support you need to hear! :)

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 2 (Dark Side)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide, runaways, health issue mentions, weapon mentions, panic attack description? (Though honestly it’s more of an anxiety attack), death mentions, child abandonment mentions. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I recommend listening to Dark Side by R5. I thought the actual lyrics to the song gave off a solid vibe that I wanted to transfer to the start of this particular chapter.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Together Master List

Chapter 2: Dark Side

When you woke up this morning, you had the sweet scent of Vanilla and honey hit your nose. It was warm and inviting and made you feel safe. You were glad, normally you’d never feel safe in the wild. The pack helped a lot with that issue. But when you woke up today, you noticed that you had woken up to a quiet house. Which was… strange to say the least. There was always some sort of ruckus going on downstairs in the early hours. So you figured you’d go investigate cautiously, in case something had happened. You grabbed your thigh garter belt with your knives attached before you quietly made your way down the stairs. You saw and heard no one. Nothing was wrong or out of place. Everyone was just… gone. But why?

“Boy, you come prepared don’t you?” A male voice said from the stairs, causing you to jolt back in surprise, automatically drawing your knife from its holster on sheer instinct, ready to release it at any given moment.

You relaxed and placed it back to your thigh as you realized it was just Jihoon, one of the less spoken wolves of the pack.

He was only a few inches taller than you, but you were still incredibly intimidated by him. You weren’t sure why all the others were terrified to piss him off, even the alphas, but you were never worried he’d get mad at you. Which was weird, you were always skeptical of everyone, it was just in your nature as a rogue wolf.

However, with him, it wasn’t horror that overtook your veins, it was nervousness. Like you had some sort of school girl crush on him and you were worried you’d mess something up in front of him and die from the embarrassment of it. But why? Why would you care what some rando wolf would think of you when you’d probably be leaving in a bit when your wounds were healed better?

“Jesus Jihoon! You know I could’ve killed you right? Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to fuck with a bitch with knives?” You huffed out in annoyance while slapping you hands over your face, praying that he hadn’t seen your cherry red cheeks yet.

Of course he had though. He never took his eyes off of you whenever you were in a room. You were just too zoned off to notice

“Uh no… Not really. Never had them so they didn’t teach me shit. Not that any of that matters. We both know you’d never hurt anyone if you could help it.” He shrugged, nudging past you to make his way to the fridge for a bite to eat with a small smile pasted on his glorious lips. God he annoyed you.

“You don’t know that. I always come prepared, I could be a serial killer for all any of you know” you cooly threw his way as you let your guard down slightly, for some reason trusting him enough to have a semi civilized conversation alone.

“Yeah yeah you’re a little vicious killer. Whatever you say kid” He laughed out, trying to keep his amusement in check at your quick replies.

You gritted your teeth, “Hey I am not a kid! I’m centuries old! MUCH older than you.” You smugly responded to his bitch ass nickname for you.

Jihoon looked you up and down for a second, making you a bit self conscious and spreading a heat down to your lower belly, “You don’t look older than me. Matter of fact, you look like the youngest one here. So I’m gonna keep calling you kid, kid.” He leaned in close to you and whispered seductively in your ear.

“Where- where is everyone?” You stuttered out, trying your best not to focus on the minimal contact Jihoon had made with your shoulder while brushing past you moments ago. Curse your dumb instincts. Why did you have to find him attractive? Couldn’t your wolf side ever just stay in check?

“The market? No, to Taeyong’s? Maybe it was to the river? I dont know by the time they left it didn’t seem like they even knew where they were going so I stopped listening.” He answered while taking a bit of an apple he had snagged from the fruit basket on the counter.

“W-why didn’t you go with them?” You questioned him as you tried your best to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Didn’t feel like third wheeling a bunch of mated coupled wolves.” He shrugged once more while sitting himself on the kitchen table you were next to, “Plus, someone needed to stay here and keep an eye on the house.”

“I would’ve been here.” You chimed in, as if he would’ve ever seriously left you alone.

Whether you were a Werewolf or not, he was NOT gonna leave you without some sort of safety net if he could help it. If he had it his way, you wouldn’t even go down to the market with the other mates when supplies were needed. He knew you could handle yourself as a fellow wolf, and he knew you were the best to go because you weren’t marked yet, but he was worried for you.

You definitely had people looking at you because of your different appearance. You were drop dead gorgeous to anyone with eyes, and that greatly concerned him every-time you went out shopping. He may have been more of a lone wolf, but he wanted to protect you at all cost, even if you didn’t realize that’s what he was doing yet.

“Doesn’t count. You’re a FANCY werewolf, remember?” He emphasized the word fancy in a condescending way that irked your nerves all the way to your core.

“We don’t know what you can do yet. Besides, you act like I’d actually want to go watch them make goo goo eyes at each other all day long. Seeing them cuddle and dry hump the whole time we’re doing something isn’t my idea of fun. I’d rather be here and enjoy the peace and quiet while I can.” He said as he tossed the remains of his apple in the garbage can in one swift motion.

“I can do everything you guys can and more!” You defended yourself, getting a bit frustrated at the younger wolf for doubting your abilities.

“Then prove it. Do something… super wolfy” he chuckled out, half jokingly and half seriously in what a normal person would recognize as a flirty manner.

He hadn’t had too many girlfriends. His experience with girls was limited compared to his brothers. So sticking to his sarcastic edgy tone was the only way he knew how to engage with you.

He was curious as to what your powers entailed anyways. They all were, none of them had met a wolf like you before. All the wolves they knew were modern, and the only seriously powerful wolf they knew was from a Chinese pack that had fled to their area who could communicate with heaven, hell, and the nether realms. They had heard stories that had been passed down for some generations about what wolves were like long ago, but none of it was confirmed because nearly all had been killed or died off. So they wanted to see if you could actually do all the things from the legends they heard about your people. For all they knew, you could fly.

You hesitated for a moment, trying your best to think of something, anything that you could do that would shut him up and prove your point. But everything you thought of required you to be much stronger than you currently were. None of the visible powers you had were working right now due to the small amount of silver still running through your system. Even if you were working at full strength and weren’t hurt, you had never been able to use your powers to their full extent do to something having been wrong with you since birth.

“… I- I cant.” You sighed in defeat while bringing your head down to look at your hands.

“Why not?” He wondered aloud, not even really meaning to tease you, he just let the innocent question slip from his lips without thinking.

“Because I got hurt and I have no way to get better! My entire pack is dead! Everyone I love is dead! I don’t have a mate! I need some sort of connection to the people around me to heal faster and I don’t have one anymore! I need one or the other to have my powers come back this quickly after such a traumatic incident and I have neither! I’m fucked up and I’ve been fucked up for a long time okay!” You snapped, your eyes now bleeding and turning emerald green from anger as you yelled at him.

Once you saw his confused and remorseful expression, you quickly closed your eyes and turned around to try and calm down. You didn’t mean to go after him like that, but you were already very worried about your own health not coming back and the taunting tone in his voice just made you break. You could feel the hurt in his heart. It made you want to cry, you didn’t mean to yell at him. You were just a very touchy person who had been asked about a very touchy subject.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset. I just- I’m concerned for myself and this conversation… well it made the concerns I already had skyrocket. But that’s not your fault. You would’ve had no way of knowing that. I apologize for getting mad at you over something so childish.” You earnestly said, trying your best to look him in the eyes without blushing from embarrassment.

He quickly moved his head down to look at his lap. He understood your pain. He could feel it everyday. You were his mate, he already did have a connection to you. He knew when you were sad or hurt or worried. He knew that you weren’t just in physical pain, but emotional pain as well. He wished he could take it all away from you so you never felt a negative feeling again. But he just couldn’t. Though, he was upset at himself for making it worse for you. Why did he always have to try and stir the pot? Couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Couldn’t he just be cool around you and know when to stop?

“It’s okay. I… I understand what it’s like. To not have anyone I mean. I didn’t realize that you actually had to have those things in order to heal better though. With wolves now, we don’t necessarily have to have those things. I mean having them helps, but we get better eventually anyways as long as we get the wound cleaned properly. I didn’t know it was different for you...” He bit his lip as he continued, “But you know, our pack can be your pack, if you want anyway. There’s an opening for another ticking time bomb now that Chan’s found a mate. You’d be perfect for the job” he joked, though you could tell he was serious at the offer for you to join the pack.

“Yeah… how much does it pay an hour?” You played along, trying to lighten the mood from the tension you had made appear due to your little anger outburst.

You hurriedly propped yourself up on the table next to Jihoon, who gave you a small smile in return. It gave you goosebumps all over your skin. So you were thankful you had grabbed a large sweater the pack had given you before you went downstairs this morning.

You were given a bunch of them. They made you feel safe, and you loved the way they smelt. So when the other mates apologized and said they didn’t have many ‘girly clothing items’ to give you as getting clothing was sparse at the moment, you didn’t complain. You were perfectly content with your bigger clothing.

When you sat up on the table, you smelt the same scent of vanilla and honeysuckle that you nostrils had been absorbing from the clothing given to you…

“Not a lot.” Jihoon confessed, “we only offer housing, protection, and being around people who would do anything for you. But honestly, you could do a lot worse in terms of a career.” He bit his lip once more, the action drawing a small pur from your chest, which you tried to cover with a small cough. Of course he still caught the sound though. You weren’t even sure why looking at him made you that happy. The sound made Jihoon swoon, he loved that he already had such an impact on you.

“Of course there’s also some downside like with all jobs… like having to constantly break up fights, having a complete jackass for a mate, and well… you know… sharing bathrooms…” he trailed on, rubbing his neck while he attempted to make it seem like the middle part was casual.

“Wait! A complete WHAT for a WHO and WHERE was I???” You all but yell out in shock, making Jihoon wince.

He couldn’t tell if you were upset that he’d just burst it out like that. He honestly couldn’t even tell if you knew you were his mate or not. He didn’t know if you WANTED a mate or not. From what he knew of you, you usually stayed away from people unless you had to be around them. You told the others that staying alone is how you’d survived all these centuries. But Would you make an exception to your rules for survival to stay with him?

“Uh… yeah. A mate. That would- that would be me. I’m your mate…” He whispered, attempting as best as he could to regain control of his heartbeat that was now almost pounding out of his chest.

That’s when it all clicked in your head. Why they let you eat first with the mates, with the OTHER mates. You were one of them. It’s why they found you when you needed help, he must’ve felt you were in danger. It’s why you didn’t die that day even though your wounds would’ve been normally fatal even to you, because he was near you and never left your side. It’s why you weren’t scared of him like everyone else, you knew he’d never hurt you because he loved you. It’s why the pack always giggled anytime you and Jihoon would get near each other. It’s why the smell on your sweaters and his smell were so familiar, he gave them to you because you were his. You two were mates. It all made sense.

“We’re- we’re mates?” You reaffirmed out loud, but you started to feel dizzy. You weren’t sure what was happening.

Everything was going too fast, it felt like you were moving in slow motion but the entire world was spinning as fast as it could around you. The edges of your vision started becoming fuzzy and dark. You started to feel like you were going to pass out, but before you could fall flat on your face to the floor, Jihoon caught your fragile body in his arms.

“Yes. We are. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I wanted to give you some time to adjust to being around normal people before I told you.” He assured you as he started moving towards the stairs, bringing you to his room and setting you down on his bed. He was incredibly worried for you, he could hear your heart rate slowing by the second.

“You might need to lay down. You don’t look well” he spoke softly as he held the back of one of his larger hands to your clammy forehead.

“Yeah… okay… rest… that makes sense… I’m sorry I- I just wasn’t expecting-” You tried to say as you start to give into the panicking darkness, not wanting to fight the urge to black out anymore.

“It’s okay. It’s a lot to take in. Just try and sleep okay?” He shushed you as he moved his blankets over your petite form, hesitant to touch you as he didn’t want to make matters worse. But his inner wolf was screaming at him to hold you and rock you to help you.

Everything you had heard about Jihoon told you he wasn’t someone who could have a relationship. All the others always talked about him wanting no one around him ever. They called him a grumpy old rogue wolf who miraculously got stuck in their pack. They said that He did things his own way. He did things alone. So did you.

“Jihoon, how the hell are we supposed to be together when we’re both lone wolves?” You whimpered out to him before everything went dark.

Another Author’s Note: alright so you guys know the drill. I wrote this close to midnight and I’m too tired to care about revising rn. So i shall look at it and fix any mistakes tomorrow when I get the time. Tomorrow I don’t think I’ll be praying more than once. Sorry, I’m working a doubt shift. But Wednesday I’m hoping to post three times! Here’s to hoping!

(Updated 9/6)

[sapphicwhxre]

tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

[tellywoodtrash]

Hey, gonna bring something dark here (tw: rape), so please do not read further and delete this if it's a trigger for you ❤️

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Did you see what's happening with Pearl Puri? He was arrested for raping a minor? And God, his tag has been trending, with people jumping to his defense.

I've always been vocal about normalizing of problematic, abusive nonsense in our media. We all know ITV is particularly guilty of this, and one of the reasons I've been following your blog for years now is because you also call out this absolute fucking nonsense. I've gotten a lot of flak for how much I call all this out irl- 'separate fiction from reality, don't be such a feminist, stop taking everything so seriously' blah blah blah. I'm completely capable of separating fiction from reality, which is why I let myself watch all this trash for entertainment. I worry because not all audiences can do that. I'm an adult woman capable of critical thinking, but there's no denying that young, impressionable girls are also exposed to this content.

What I worry about is situations like what I'm seeing today- young girls in the tag jumping to his defense, because they've seen his character, and they like him, and interviews mein he seemed sweet. I'm not saying the normalization of toxic content is the sole reason for people reacting like this, but I can't deny that the phrases being used are the same ones used by the same fan accounts to justify toxic characters- 'Feminist agenda to blame men' and 'playing the woman card' and 'men are misunderstood in our society, we must give benefit of doubt.' It's hard to not wonder whether lines between reel and real are getting blurred for some young audiences, and it honest to God terrifies me.

Yes, Pearl could be innocent. But he could also not. Why give him the benefit of doubt, and not the minor girl? When will we start believing victims, and stop throwing the exceedingly rare false cases in their faces? I'm also so disappointed by celebrities jumping in with social media support. If he's your friend and you truly believe him, great, you know him personally so you actually have more grounds to believe him than fangirls who like his interviews. I get it, but support him offline na? I'm sure he can stay away from insta for a few days if the online negativity is such a problem. But this just seems like jumping on the bandwagon of a trending topic, when investigation is ongoing. I have seen Anita Hassanandani, Ekta Kapoor, Surbhi Jyoti, Karishma Tanna, Nia Sharma...all these women come to his defense...stay the hell out till the investigation happens, and then do all these #truthwins crap.

Idk how I feel about all this, but it's certainly disheartening. I'm sorry again for bringing all this to your inbox, so please, do feel fully free to delete this message and not respond. Love always to you ❤️

Hi friend!

I certainly appreciate the trigger warning and the consideration in your message. 💞💞💞

I mean, you said everything that I am thinking and feeling. I think as a viewer, I am okay to consume this kind of trash because I am constantly (over)analyzing everything I consume. I am also very very aware that I don’t know a lot of things due to my upper-caste cishet privilege and thus am constantly open to learning. If one is not that kind of discerning, and not doing that kinda work to educate themselves, then they frankly shouldn’t be watching this crap coz lord, the amount of brain rot I am seeing due to people not being able to differentiate between onscreen and off.

I simply do not understand why people can’t get over their bias to think about the sheer power dynamic in this case: he’s a rich celebrity with tons of support from influential people, and the victim is/was a MINOR. Even if the accusation is false, what has he suffered? Literally nothing. He spent a few hours in jail and then will be vindicated. What if the accusation is true? The victim has gone through so much more; a crime of a sexual nature, WHILE BEING UNDERAGE, and then no doubt lots of persecution when filing a report against someone so powerful, and now a social media pile-on, and a trauma that they will have to work on their whole life to overcome. It’s literally not comparable. Fuck people who cannot understand this kinda basic concept.

I’m tired, i’m just fucking tired of it all. I just can wish power to those who have suffered and continue to suffer. May they be believed, may they receive justice, and in the process, if all of this fakeass, meaningless glitz and glamour burns down to the ground to never ever rise again, so fucking be it.

[melanated-maddy]

TYTON

Hey welcome to this fan fiction. I recently finished war storm and I’m in love with Tyton. Couldn’t help but want to right a fic after seeing so little on this guy on tumblr. Don’t know if I’ll write more as got exams but if you like let me know! All characters and world and everything belongs to the queen herself Victoria Aveyard

Chapter 1

“Debark, debark, debark.”

Tyton was snapped out of his musings pale fingers still gripped against the fading cover of his book. They’d finally arrived back in Ascendant after another long plane journey. A year after the kingdom of Norta was officially dissolved with Cal’s abdication there was still unrest with the Silvers. Too many houses had attempted to feel comfortable on the sparkling throne. ‘Osanos says water comes after fire, Rhambos is taking strength and power a little too literally and Merandus is trying hard to distance themselves from the insanity their own brought forth in Maven and actually claim the throne. At least there’s no more Samos worries. That ship sailed or should I say smashed along with Volo’s head with his offspring are safely tucked away in the capital.’ The soldiers on the plane had started their move off some in a rush to get home to worried families and others ready to have a drink. Davidson was the closet family Tyton had after his own lost their lives to a raid. His mother, father and two younger brothers all gone in an instant. That instance was the first time Tyton’s ability was able to properly manifest. Properly surge. Properly show how dangerous he was. It was Davidson who found him when searching the wrecks of homes and families. Still holding his brother’s Aeon’s hand tears in his eyes. Davidson was always quiet even back in those days and knelt to Tyton’s small height hugging him close. After that day Davidson properly set about burying the family well allowing Tyton to grieve and giving him another place to call home. He’d never admit it, but Tyton was lucky...relieved that Davidson and Carmadon took him in. Even if those raiders who had taken his family from him deserved his rage, he was terrified of the lightning under his skin. With a huff, Tyton uncoiled his long body from his seat standing and stretching up to remind his muscles of their function. The suit he wore was dark not one of the traditional Montfort green it just would not do for some missions. Under his seat he pulled free the small bag carrying a bottle of water, bag of nuts and stored the book into it securely. It was the last thing he’d received from his parents and even so he still struggled to get through it properly. As Tyton turned to move out the aircraft door onto the tarmac he spotted Mare struggling to reach an overhead compartment to grab something. He quickly moved forward and grabbed hold of two items: a maroon scarf and backpack.

“Thanks.”

“No worries I’m always available to help the vertically challenged.”

Mare’s face turned into a vivid shade of crimson and she moved as if ready to punch his arm when Cal swung his head back into the cabin. He seemed exasperated which quickly shifted to a swift glare as his eyes settled on how close the two were.

“Tyton.”

“Cal.”

“Mare what's taking so long?”

“Difficulties getting the scarf and backpack you decided to thrust into the overhead bin. As well as being ready to obliterate string bean here.”

Tyton gave a chuckle, although he was slightly leaner than Cal a string bean he was not.

“Don’t worry just helping her out she’s still yours, your highness.”

Cal bristled with the label, but Tyton was already strolling out onto the blinding tarmac doused in bright light.

As he got his bearings about himself, Tyton could not help feeling the pulses of electricity going off in every person around hims body. Just as you could imagine different emotions and thoughts had different electric compositions. As people moved around he recognised stress signals, pulses of joy and shifts of concentration. The signals never went away but with time he’d found away to keep them working in tandem with him so he didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Tyton come on rides here.” Rafe called his hair in the sun giving the appearance of green flames.

Tyton walked to the transport, long legs eating up the distance in a few moments to be face to face with Rafe. Ella must’ve caught a different one as the storm addict’s blue hair was no where to be seen. Together the two walked towards Davidson who was speaking to Arezzo in hushed tones. With a nod she was dismissed walking instead of jumping to wherever she needed to go. Davidson turned to the two a smooth smile on his face and opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a quick trill.

“Rafe!”

A blur of orange smashed into Rafe’s chest holding him tightly as he clutched her back.

Laughing Rafe greeted her, “Iz, nice to see you too, but you’re crushing me.”

With one last tug, Izelle released her older brother a wide grin tugging on her lips as she looked up at him. Izelle, was Rafe’s little sister by a year who shared his dark brown skin smooth and even and bright smile. In her orange dress that spun around her knees and black combat boots, she giggled letting her hair of tight curls circling her head move slightly held back with an orange band.

“Is it wrong for me to have missed my dumb big brother? Am I wrong Tyton?”

Tyton smiled and shook his head as Rafe glared at him.

“So nice to know that it won’t be a strongarm that gets me but my sister’s choke hold.”

Iz shoved Rafe as he rolled his eyes and moved to put his bags in the transport while Iz turned to greet Tyton.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

And with that Tyton opened his arms and Izelle moved into them giving him a tight hug.

‘Her hugs are always great.’

“Thanks for looking out for Rafe. I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not dead somewhere because of you.”

A deep rumble erupted from Tyton as he shook his head. They walked to the transport as Tyton asked how she’d been.

“All good here finally ready to move onto the fourth arc only two more to go before I’m a qualified teacher of education.”

“That’s excellent. You’ve worked hard for it.”

“Yeah it’s been so long definitely the hardest thing I’ve faced, but it’ll be so worth it once I’m in a class with little guys.”

“Do you know what specialism you’ll take yet Izzy?”

In Montfort, classes were not segregated at all with children of all blood types getting the same education to the best standard they could. Those who were Ardent or Silver has supplementary classes to help in coming into their abilities. However, it was courtesy for teachers at normal school to specialise in understanding one blood type well so that support chains could be used in school for any student struggling.

“I’m not sure yet to be honest. I’ve still got to think, might swing for Ardent or Red they’ve already got lots of silver specialists.”

Tyton liked listening to Izzy speak. Her mind although more hyperactive than most was one he enjoyed feeling the thrum of. She would be an excellent teacher one who was fun and silly, but able to understand and be serious when needed. For all her loudness Rafe often called her the thunder to his lightning. As Izzy spoke she tended to often get enthralled by her words and lost her bearings of where she was. So much so she didn’t see a smaller transport squealing into her path. In seconds Tyron had pulled her back allowing the small buggy to rush past on its was.

“Izzy.”

“Ha sorry about that. Forgive me.”

And with a smile, all was forgiven.

“Come on Rafe is definitely going to start a mood if we don’t hurry up,” and with that she pulled his arm to the transport releasing him to clamber up and take a seat next to Rafe. For all the bickering and teasing they did the two siblings loved each other dearly. They had sought refuge in Montfort from the Piedmont principalities with their mother. The two remembered little about their original home as they had left so young, but the happiness Montfort gave them was all they needed. Forgetting all about her conversation with Tyton, Izzy poked Rafe to tell her all about Norta and what things they’d encountered. Izzy had never left Montfort. She was definitely not a soldier, barely remembering to tuck in her thumbs properly when punching Rafe and the Ardent abilities had only passed to him so a useful electricon on the battlefield she was not. The ride to Ascendant was bumpy, Davidson muttering about looking into the concrete and upkeep of the infrastructure when back home. The air rushed in as they sped across the landscapes moving closer to the capital with every second until the transport stopped in a quick halt. The stop was so fast Izzy almost span out of her seat if not for Rafe and Tyton’s arms coming to forth to stop her fall.

“What’s going-“

Davidson was cut off when a terrible crunch sounded off. Leaning forward, he could see one of the transports being crushed the metal casings crumbling against each other. Without a thought Davidson threw out a shield glowing blue in the setting sun surrounding the two vehicles.

“Raiders already?” Rafe hit his head against the seat in frustration before moving out of the car to help passengers in the afflicted vehicle. Tyton quickly went about feeling how many Raiders were out there without being told.

“10, all seems to be magnetron. 3 females, 7 males. Wait they’re leaving?”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah moving away.”

Davidson heaved a sigh, “Radio in for some teleporters for the wounded.”

“They’re already here.” Tyton looked out seeing that those badly injured were being jumped back. Being so close to Ascendant meant the teleporters could make the jump.

“Alright then, destroy that transport don’t leave anything of use behind for them.”

With that, Tyton moved to the transport now empty and absentmindedly called forth a storm preparing for a powerful bolt. The skies darkened as his storm came into existence. Davidson let the shield down for a moment to let the bolt come through. In a fraction of a second, a burning bolt of lighting came down from the sky smashing against the transport reducing it to dust and scorched earth. The air singed with crackle as the fire wreck obliterated. Tyton surveyed the scene inspecting the damage to see if it was at a high enough level to not be useful to a magnetron. Being happy with it he turned and started to walk back to Davidson and Izzy, Rafe already sitting in his seat. He was laughing at Izzy as she covered her ears wincing at the terrible sound of the lightning on metal. It was a sound not comfortable for most ears, but Tyton’s power was unheard of in an Ardent. He was different to the other electricons being able to handle electricity more naturally than even them. It didn’t take much for him to call a storm bolt of that magnitude. As he was within a few metres of the transport he suddenly felt a barrage of electrical energy moving towards them. Recognising it as the previous magnetrons he turned to quickly release brain lightning on them being able to drop 4 of them before one let off a spike. Moving out of the way he could do, but the spike still got him in the side forcing him to the ground. Davidson’s shields again went up and Tyton was pulled into the transport as it began to drive away with Davidson’s shields still up. Izzy clambered towards him pulling apart his suit to get a better look at the cut. Her hand pressed down hard as she told Rafe to get the medical kit under the seat. Tyton grasped onto her had holding it down as he grimaced from the pain. “You’re fine it’s only a scratch.” Izzy nervously laughed.

“Of course because scratches produce this much blood.”

“Shut up big baby. I’ve met toddlers tougher than you,” she grinned and Tyton smiled back focusing on her electricity and letting it calm him down in the transport racing back to Ascendant.

[coloraturadiva]

A mistake - Chapter 3

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x F!Reader (You)

Summary:  Napoleon realises he had made a mistake

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Warnings: angst, fluff, pregnancy (I’m sure I forgot something...)

Word Count: 2692

A/N: a special thank you to my lovely beta @iloveyouyen ! This is the third and last chapter of this story, I hope you’ll like it 😉

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

Feedback, reblogs and constructive criticism are appreciated!

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comments and reblogs welcome!

Tagging some people that never asked for it and others that actually did: @iloveyouyen @littlefreya @aletheladyinred @madbaddic7ed @promptandpros @mrsaugustwalker @jencanbeyouryengeralt @radaofrivia @henrythickcavill @ladyreapermc @mary-ann84 @onlyhenrys @qualitynightkoala @eefjedegraaf @summersong69 @minillamakeup-blog @trippedmetaldetector @maan24​  @bichibibi​  @rn7rocks​ 

Knock knock

“What are you doing here?”

There he was. You had heard no words from him for the past 2 weeks. As he said, he came to the house the day after he left to collect his things when you were at work and left his keys in the mailbox.

Now he stood on your doorstep looking like he was the one suffering from morning sickness. He was looking terrible, not his usual spit and polish self. Pale, his lips dehydrated, the eyes dull and puffy, the hair messy: he looked like he had aged 20 years in 14 days.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course” you felt unsure about his intentions, but you let him in nevertheless . “This is still your house anyway”. You didn't hear a word from him or his lawyer. You had expected a phone call or even papers delivered to you in a couple of days, but nothing happened, and you thought that he had been whisked away on a mission before having the time to arrange the situation with a lawyer.

“What do you want?” you asked him, not daring to look at him in the eye, fearing you'd burst out crying. You had cried so much during the past weeks that you thought you had no more tears in you, but his sudden appearance made you feel teary all over again.

“I left two very important things there” he answered in a soft, but raspy tone. Even his voice didn't sound like it used to be.

“Really?” you tried to sound polite, even if a million of different emotions were raging in your head: anger, fear, sorrow, loneliness, the urge to kiss him one last time... “What? I haven't seen anything...”

“My wife and my baby”.

“What?” your head span. You didn't trust your legs and went to sit on the closest seat you could find: an armchair in the parlour.

He followed you, terrified. His face turned even paler than before.

“What happened? Are you unwell?” he kneeled in front of you, his voice trembled with worry.

Your head snapped up. You looked at him in the eye for a second and... slapped him. You slapped him with all the force you had in your body. Maybe slapping a CIA agent wasn't the best idea for your safety, but you couldn't help yourself. He had to steady himself on the nearby sofa not to fall.

“YOU IDIOT! You come here out of nowhere after having left your PREGNANT wife and you even have the courage to ask me what happened and if I am unwell?! Of course I'm unwell, you broke my heart!” you were flushed, your breath laboured.

He looked at you wide eyed.

“I'm so sorry...” he began in a pleading tone, looking at his hands: he was still wearing his wedding band. Like you. “I panicked. I fucked it all up big time. I know I don't deserve to ask for anything and I'll understand if you won't get me back, but I had to try. I couldn't let go of everything we have built this way. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I hadn't tried to get you back.”

“You did, all with your hands” you retorted bitterly.

“I know. And I'm the most stupid and undeserving man in the world. But I'm madly in love with you and I can't let you go for any reason.”

“Except an unwanted child” you bashed him.

He bowed his head.

“I... I wasn't expecting it. Coming home and seeing you with a bump...”

“No, you never wanted it, it's not the surprise factor. That would have caused you to stay speechless, to panic for ten minutes, to say something stupid, not to leave me in less than two minutes, without giving me the opportunity to explain, with those bitter words.”

“Bitter words?” he asked lost.

“I knew a baby would have come to separate us. That's what you said. It's not the baby's fault! How can it be? It's your fault! You went away treating me like a broken object, without even looking at me. Not even an animal deserves to be treated that way! And you started to talk about divorce papers in less than three seconds after having realised I was pregnant. That broke my heart, you know that? That physically broke my heart! That evening I thought I was gonna die right on the floor, where you had left me! And why did you do that? Because things weren’t going like you wanted, because I displeased you! How awful! And it happened ONCE. Once in all the years we have been together! Well, sorry, but I was not born with the sole purpose to please your cravings and your ego, I’m human too and I have my interests and my wishes as well. You always knew, from the very start, that I wanted to build a family with you, but you were so obsessively against the idea of having kids that I renounced my own wishes because I wanted to be with you. I’m sure you believe that I did get pregnant on purpose, but I didn’t do it, I swear. I was as surprised as you when I found out. I’m not the one that goes behind other people's backs, you are... So you wanted to punish me for something that’s not my fault, or, at least, is your fault as well. Of course! You are the important one here, while I’m the stupid, lovesick woman that offended you by getting pregnant, but I’ll never feel sorry about loving my baby! You can’t throw away people like a broken toy because things aren’t going like you have planned. I won’t accept it.”

He felt ashamed of himself like he never felt in his whole life. Stealing, the black market, spying, that was nothing compared to what he had done to you without even realizing.

“And you know what's the worst part of it?” you continued. “That I loved you. I kept on loving you anyway. Even if you had treated me so bad, I couldn't bring myself to hate you. Hating you would have made everything easy, but it was impossible. When I arrived home after work the day after you left, I hoped to find you there, or at least that you hadn't come to take away your things. That would have meant that you were in doubt, that you were still thinking about it. But when I arrived home, I saw that all was gone. Your wardrobe was empty, your drawers were empty, your library was empty, even the comforting smell of you was gone from this house. My heart broke yet again. It was really the end...”

You started sobbing, all the emotions of the past weeks washed over you at once. You felt overwhelmed.

"Do you want to know why I left?" he asked looking at the floor after having taken a deep breath. "Because I'm scared…"

"Oh, don't tell me!" you answered sarcastically. "The hero, the great secret agent is scared of a baby! Please, I'm not that stupid…"

"I'm not scared OF a baby." He whispered. "I'm scared FOR the baby. And for you".

"What?" you asked not getting his point. What was to be scared about? Women get pregnant and babies are born everyday. It's normal, it's natural.

"I… I've always been worried about your safety…" he hesitated. "You know who I am, you know what I have done, you know what I do… I can't control everything, I can't be here to protect you all the time. I'm constantly worried that one day someone could decide to seek revenge against me by hurting you. It's something that has been burning me from the inside since the very first time I saw you. I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. You don't deserve it, it's not right. I've done my fair share of bad things, but you are innocent, you shouldn't be in this mess… But you are right, I'm an egoist. Even if I wanted you to be safe, I loved you too much, I wanted you to be mine… Even if it was a risk for you… That's why I never wanted a baby. Thinking of you being in danger is already a big hardship for me, but a baby… That's too much. That's not a life for a baby. I know very well how it hurts you having me to stay away on missions all that time, not knowing if I'll come back all in one piece. That's wrong. A baby and a young mother shouldn't be living like that… That's why I panicked, that's why I left. I thought that with me gone, maybe you could have been safe, you could have built a new and better life for the two of you. Maybe with a better man… That’s it. I panicked and in my head, going away was a way to protect you..." he paused for long minutes, playing nervously with his wedding ring. "What can I do to make amends?” he begged. “Please, tell me.”

You kept on crying. You had no idea. You loved him, but he had hurt you so much you didn't know what you really wanted.

He was devastated. Seeing you crying, so trembling and fragile and all because of him made him feel physically sick.

He didn't think too much about it, or at the consequences: he went to sit on the armrest of the armchair and took you into his arms. He didn't move, he didn't caress you, he just held you still.

At first you were stiff, unsure about the unexpected contact, but soon enough you melted in his arms. It felt so good to be back where you felt you belonged after such a long time. You were unsure if you could ever forgive him, but you also knew that you couldn't live without him.

“What made you change your mind?” you suddenly asked in a whisper. “Why did you come here today?”

“You. Both of you.” He hesitated, his voice trembled. He sounded deeply emotional. “I mean, I love you. It's you, it's our baby. I don't want you to be with another man… I want to see our baby grow… I know it's a risk and I don’t know if I can protect you, but at least I want to try. I can't let you go… "

“Our baby” you sobbed.

“Yes, of course you were right. Like you are always right. It takes two to make a baby. I can't blame everything on you. I'm sure I did my part… I’m just a scared idiot, but I love you. It only took me too long to realise how much I love you and how important you and the baby are for me. More important than my fears.”

“The baby as well?”

“Yes, the baby as well. I love both of you so much”.

You sighed. He sounded like he meant his words. He sounded like himself again. A tired Napoleon, but your Napoleon.

“I... Your... Your grandmother visited me.”

“My grandmother? How? I don't know where you are staying now. How does she?”

“She probably has been a secret agent for all her life and never told a soul. I can't find a different explanation” he smiled. “Her methods are also quite... effective. I was there, tormenting myself to decide when was the best moment to come to you, if today was too soon, or already too late, when she knocked on my door, stormed in and gave me a lecture. She talked for 15 minutes straight, I think. She didn't let me say a word. And she beat me with her walking stick.”

“WHAT?”

“I told you her methods are effective. I said something that displeased her, and she wanted to make it clear.”

“You probably deserved it...”

“Indeed. I deserved that and your slap too.”

“You had already decided to come back before her visit?” you changed the subject.

“Yes. Two days after I left you, when I found myself with all my things in a house that wasn't ours and without you and having left you alone, I realised that I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“That was nearly two weeks ago...”

“I know, but I didn't have the courage to come, I had no idea what to say...”

“And waiting made a difference?”

“Yes, because the more the days passed, the more I was sure that I missed you and that leaving you alone wasn’t the best way to keep you and the baby safe. I realised that I made a big mistake. Not being with you was a mistake… By leaving you I was only hurting you, not protecting you...”

You both fell silent. One secretly praying to not have ruined it all with his own hands, the other reflecting on her feelings, trying to understand if forgiveness was an option.

“Could you ever forgive me?” he asked tentatively after several minutes, still holding you in his arms.

“No.”

He froze. He felt like he had been slapped again. But more forcefully, this time.

“I already did. The moment I let you in, I had already subconsciously forgiven you. I love you too much to live without you, I want to have you there with me. And you came back to me...” you sighed. “You know I can't stay mad at you for too long...” you softly smiled.

“Even after what I did?” he still didn't dare to look you in the eye.

“Even after what you did... I would like to believe that I'm doing it for the baby's sake, but the truth is that I'm doing it for myself. I'm terribly greedy when it comes to you.”

He dared to kiss you on the top of your head. You didn't resist.

It felt so good. It felt simply right.

You suddenly disentangled from his arms and got up from the armchair. You started to walk away.

Napoleon was startled. What was happening? Why did you start to move so suddenly? The kiss was too much?

“Come with me”. He heard your voice from the corridor and bolted in your direction.

He caught up with you in the guest room.

You turned to face him, standing close to a big box.

"Yesterday I saw this crib in a shop and even if it's a bit early, I had to buy it. But I'll need your help to put it together" you smiled weakly.

Napoleon looked at the big box. It was white, decorated with cute pastel green Teddy bears. He always had a penchant for beautiful (and expensive) things, he was an expert in art and antiquities anyway, and was used to treating himself with ridiculously expensive clothes, but had never paid attention to these kinds of things, thinking they would never interest him. However, right now that box looked to him as magnificent as a Raffaello painting.

He neared you gingerly, afraid of doing something wrong.

"Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to put this crib together  with you. And all the rest of the things for the baby. And us. I want us to be together...” you trailed off.

“I miss you”.

“I miss you too.”

You looked down at your growing belly.

“Come here” you threw your arms around his neck. One of Napoleon's hands went instinctively to your belly. You looked carefully at his face. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but was trying hard not to break apart in front of you.

“How are you?” he sounded suddenly concerned about your health. “How do you feel?”

You cupped his cheek.

“I'm good now” you smiled at him.

“I'm sorry. For everything” he uttered, deep affliction clearly ringing in his voice. "You'll be safe. Both of you. I promise…"

“I know” you answered softly. “Let's forget about the past weeks, shall we? Let's start anew from today.”

“I love you Y/N”.

“I love you Napoleon”.

Thanks to everyone who read my story and made it to the end! 😘

[songofclarity]

Hi! About WRH, I've seen lots of instances where people wimpify their favourite character, by using WRH to abuse them in the most gross ways. Maybe you've seen that too? Do you think there's a particular reason for why it's so prevalent (aside from personal taste(??? ...Even reading descriptions makes me sick. Its unavoidable with WRH. ...I find it incredibly tiresome when I'm trying to find normal WRH content yet have to wade through that shit. WRH and the other characters deserve better.

Oh, yes, I've definitely seen that, Anon.

That is the fate of all villains and antagonists in most fandoms. It's prevalent because of people's personal taste, as you said, for the power dynamic, victim/villain porn, the schadenfreude, the porn, just wanting to see their favorites break. Reading about characters in pain can be a healthy way to experience intense emotions in a safe environment. Writing fiction is a way to express one thing or another and I'm not here to judge the rhyme or reason for what gets put out there.

But I will judge how people characterize characters lol Considering I LOVE hurt/comfort, I can't say even I entirely understand the appeal of wimpifying favorite characters, either?? Even when they suffer, shouldn't they still be themselves in some fundamental way? Hurt/comfort is such a great way to explore characters at their rawest point, whether they break or bend, how they handle suffering and pain, what they do to comfort themselves, and how they come back from it.

That is a treatment and exploration given predominantly to the protagonists, however. Wen RuoHan, an antagonist we rarely see, garners no sympathy or empathy from most readers as his story sections are few and far between. We're told he runs the Evil Sect(TM) and that's all most people care about. Writers decide he is not a character in his own right, ignore what is on the page, and thus he becomes free real estate for the some trashy, vicious personality that hypersexualizes him to perversion and shows him instigating and passionately delighting in the sight of suffering and blood.

Which, for the liking the suffering and blood part, is what the cultivation world says about him in canon but we also have to remember that the cultivation world says Nie HuaiSang is a good for nothing, Wei WuXian is nothing but evil, and Jin GuangYao is a good and upright person. We come to the end of the novel to realize that none of these are true.

This isn't to say that Wen RuoHan is secretly a good person, but why is he suddenly the exception to the theme that rumors shouldn’t be believed? Especially when what we see of him does NOT match up with what is said about him? Given the opportunity to torture his son’s murderer, which you might even argue he is justified to want, he turns it down.

Interestingly enough, and perhaps Anon has noticed it too, I see Meng Yao's personality and behavior in the Sun Palace being projected onto Wen RuoHan in a lot of fic. Meng Yao's abuses and verbal harassment toward Nie MingJue are put into Wen RuoHan's mouth and then exemplified. So I think that’s another reason why Wen RuoHan is so prevalently portrayed as “gross”: Meng Yao blamed all his actions on Wen RuoHan and readers believed him, despite Meng Yao having a good reason to lie and Wen RuoHan CLEARLY saying “do as YOU please,” not as Wen RuoHan pleases.

Honestly, what Wen RuoHan says and how he behaves gives us an interesting character!

Wen RuoHan smacked Nie dad’s saber and yet spoke politely that it was indeed a fine saber. (The saber breaks. Nie dad dies.)

Wen RuoHan watched his Sect lose the archery competition and all he said was thank you all for coming, I'm going to go, but please continue to enjoy yourselves. (Cloud Recesses burns. The Indoctrination camp requires everyone to come back to once again enjoy themselves as they learn Wen Sect rules and teaching.)

Wen RuoHan spoke of his observations of the other sect leaders, identified their weaknesses (but not their strengths), and said that he needn’t raise a hand against the Sunshot Campaign, that it will collapse on its own. (It doesn’t. Wen Xu and Wen Chao are killed within days of each other. The Sunshot Campaign is in a stalemate for years.)

Wen RuoHan asked if Nie MingJue was the one who killed Wen Xu, stated he had no interest in further abusing someone who was half dead, and told Meng Yao to do as he pleased. (Wen RuoHan has his guard completely down, he doesn’t feel threatened at all, and he is murdered.)

Wen RuoHan is never shown or described as torturing anyone, we never see him murdering anyone (although RIP the Wen Cultivator killed when Nie MingJue launched him as an attack weapon), and he's not involved in any sexual misconduct. He never calls for anyone's death and he never shows a desire to cause harm.

If nothing else, Wen RuoHan is POLITE to a FAULT. Like we all see how polite Jin GuangYao tries to be but in the end he’s shedding that politeness like a second skin. Now imagine that politeness coming from a man who can make your head explode like a watermelon. Wen RuoHan is powerful and he’s terrifying but he is a BEAUTIFUL representation of "speak softly and carry a big stick" and I love that about him. It also perfectly explains why Wen Chao was like That.

So yeah, the "gross" stuff fandom writes him doing, the "gross" stuff fandom writes him saying -- I'm sorry, but who is that??? It’s fine if people don’t like him or flat out hate him, but MDZS gives us so many antagonists to chose from! It doesn’t need to be one-sized-antagonist-fits-all-evils! Fics will use Wen RuoHan’s name when Jin GuangShan and Jin GuangYao are right there holding a monopoly on sexual violence, torture, and abuse in canon. But that is another reason Wen RuoHan is portrayed as gross and terrible in fandom: many people generally like the Jin better than the Wens, and, in order to make Jin GuangYao look less rotten, Wen RuoHan is made into the penultimate evil with no redeeming qualities.

Although with all that said, in case Anon is unaware, I am the author of Heliocentric over on AO3, which began life as just a hurt/comfort Whumptober fic with a focus on Wen RuoHan and Nie MingJue. So I confess I am a participant when it comes to delving into Wen RuoHan doing terrible things in order to indulge in some good old hurt/comfort and character study. But after having written nearly 100k words I'm now a Wen RuoHan stan so I guess all that studying worked really well.

So I’m with you on trying to find some normal Wen RuoHan content these days. There are definitely some gems out there though! Fanfic and fanart which are both interesting and compelling! But long story short, we must be the change we want to see in the world! We must make the Wen RuoHan content we want to read/see!

Although it would be nice if people stopped treated him like a trash bin in the meantime.

[temporoom]

Kind of wanted to get this out of my mind quickly, so uhm... kind of a personal post? Semi-vent with heartfelt ending? Anyway. If you are uncomfortable with this feel free to just keep scrolling.

WARNING: Internalized homophobia, dubious consent (?)

One of the things that has been bothering me recently is my sexuality. It’ll probably seem weird to old followers because I never hid being bisexual, and most of stories reflect that (since I write all my characters bisexual unless mentioned otherwise). But recently, my certainty was doubted. And I’ve been thinking back to who I am attracted to.

Back in January, I got a boyfriend, with whom I broke up with a first time after a few weeks, before getting back together only a week after, and definitely broke up with him around a month ago. The reason for that was mostly because of the sudden and brutal realization that I might be just not attracted to men at all.

I luckily didn’t grew up in an environment that would make me ashame of whatever sexuality I might have, but my father always insisted on perpetuating lineage for some reasons, and since my father’s way of thinking corresponded to me more, it also stuck in my head in a way. And so, I always imagined my future with a man despite knowing I was attracted to girls, because I wanted to stay true to that principle (and also because I liked the idea of being married and having children). But that future was only seen as something that would suddenly happen, and I never actually imagined having a passionate relationship with anyone. In my head, I would be single and then married, without any of the in-between that normal couples would have. Romances described by others was nice to witness, and I enjoy it, but I never saw it for myself.

And then, I went from single to the social statue of being in a “couple”. Not only did I lost that statue of being single, but then I realized that I had to be with another human being. That realization was one of the reasons I broke up the first time. I wasn’t ready. But it was tense at home at the moment and I ended up being touch-starved and needing something outside of the safe environment I grew up in, and so I accepted going out with him again after he asked me while I was in a moment of weakness. (He is a very cool guy don’t worry)

The first time I was confused, because I never imagined anyone falling for me ever, and the first person who asked me to go out with them just happened to be head over heels for me (no one asked me out before, and no one ever fell in love with me before). So I thought that I might just needed to clarify our feelings, and put some effort in the relationship to make it work out this time. I was feeling bad for this poor guy who I was treating as a test subject for relationships, but I really needed to think about something else at that moment. And so I put the effort. I held his hands, I accepted physical contact, I acted sweet and all... 

And it felt like a performance. Which in a way I knew it was, because I knew I wasn’t in love like he was in love with me. 

I thought it was fine, and I could keep up like this. After all, he was everything I could ask for in a guy, and I should be happy. And so I put in the effort... And the relationship advanced quicker than I would have expected. 

As he was touching me, I suddenly felt like I was dissociating, I was seeing myself on the third person, controlling a character and not my own body. “I’ve seen it act like this, so I should do like this right?” before I realize it, it was starting to become too close to something too deep, and when I came back to my senses... I was terrified. I was terrified and scared. He kindly asked me if I wanted to stop, and I said yes. He hugged me for a while, and I waited, eyes open in the dark, for him to fall asleep so I could sneak out of bed. He noticed, and let me be, moving a way. I stayed there, eyes open in the dark, heart beating fast, but it was nothing romantic, just irrational fear. I ended falling asleep for a couple of hourse before waking up earlier than I ever did. I went to the bathroom with my clothes in my arms, dressing up there before he could my body again, and then I sat at the end of the bed on the ground, staring at the wall, feeling like I would cry.

I came to the same conclusion as before, doing someything with another human being was just plain terrifying. But something else came to me at that moment... the face of a girl I knew back in high school. This girl was a rollercoaster of emotion for me, she had a boyfriend but was flirty with anyone, and when she had noticed that she had an effect on me... She had taken full advantage on it. Grazing my arm in class with her nails, hugging me tight while pressing her entire body against mine, showing herself of to me in the changing room after gym class... She had drove me crazy. She was also the one who made me realize I could have sexual desire... What I didn’t had with my boyfriend at that moment.

I thought back to when she had allowed me to touch her stomach, how my body had felt like I was burning, the electricity coursing through it just from the contact of my hand with her skin... When it had been with my boyfriend... It had felt empty, and I had quickly went back to analyzing the forms of the body like an anatomy book. 

And sitting on the ground, staring at the wall, the dim light of the morning lightening up the room, I realized I liked girls. Only girls. 

I wasn’t sure at that moment, so I was still denying it in my head. “No I just can’t make it work out with him. It’s fine. Maybe I will find someone else, and I will have children, and everyone will be happy and... My brother can’t have children, my sister can’t either... If I can’t, if I can’t then I will be useless.” I ended up messaging a friend about it, because I needed to vent to someone, and she listened willingly, but agreed that she couldn’t really help me on that matter. And I knew that even with seeing a therapist, I was the only one who could know. 

Words from friends and family came back to my mind as days passed by “I imagined a future where we had families, and you were married to a beautiful woman.”, “You often talk about girls, but you don’t seem attracted to men.”...

“What do you prefer?” She had asked in the dark classroom, her eyelashes fluttering, her fingers tracing patterns on my arms, a sly smile on her pink lips. “Boys... or girls?”

“Both.” I replied quickly, my breath getting caught in my throat, I could feel the red burning on my cheeks. 

She hummed, as if she knew, as if she knew I wanted to reply “You.”

As if reading my mind, youtube started recommending me Tiktok compilations of lesbians Tiktok. It was stupid, but I needed answers, and so I clicked on the video.... and then another... and a third... It was enjoyable to watch, but nothing gave me a clear answer. It was always of girls confident in their sexuality, or who wanted to show off their relationship... It didn’t help me. And then one thing stood out between them all, a skit explaining how internalized homophobia worked on lesbians.

Attracted to fictional male character, but not real men.

Wants to date girls, but see themselves marrying a man. 

Reassured by being identified as bisexuals...

Some other stuff too. But those three stood out to me. And another on poped up, about a woman explaining how anxiety can make some girls confuse it for attraction due to the similar feeling of nervousness it gives. 

At that point, I knew I was a lesbian, and I had broken up with boyfriend for good this time. Yet, I couldn’t accept it.

“What scares you about being attracted to girls?” Asked my mother, a sorry look in her eyes, as if she was asking what she did wrong to make me feel that way.

As if I could cry at any moment, my emotions tried to fight with my reasons. “I don’t know.” It didn’t make sense, ther was nothing rational about fearing being attracted to women. 

I started dreaming of heterosexual relationships, dreams that I would live like nightmares, as if I was back with him, performing again, smiling like a good girlfriend and doing what people asked me to... One was sexual, it wasn’t consensual, but I couldn’t see his face, so I thought it was “fine”. If I couldn’t see the face it was fine. There was no logical reasons to be afraid. Maybe I was attracted to men after all? Maybe I could still not be a disappointment...

Why did it bothered me so much? It wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s just how society works, it wants you to find your little box to fit, and you have to act like it, where is your box? Where is the box you fit in? But I couldn’t fit in the box I wanted to, I couldn’t, neither as a bisexual person, or as a lesbian liked described in all the videos I’ve seen. 

I felt more uncomfortable each day. Being with a human was terrifying, being attracted to girls was terrifying...

This night I dreamt of kissing a girl. She wasn’t someone I had knew, and yet, her face was detailed, as if she had been real, and right before me at that very moment. We talked, and her voice was soft, and our lips touched, and my body was mine, not one fabricated by my mind, and she said it was beautiful. She smiled, and I felt... at peace. Like I could see a future with this girl I just met. Our hands touched, and I woke up alone. The memory of her lips still on me.

It was my first time dreaming of a girl like this, and it was nothing like any dreams I had before, it made me feel good, at peace, as if it was where I belonged, and where I was meant to belong all my life. 

“I like girls.” I thought, and then I smiled. “I like girls.”

And I couldn’t get why I was afraid before, because that feeling of love I had felt in my dream was amazing. It was more real than anything I had felt before. I wanted to cherish it. 

This morning I woke up, thinking that I like girls. That it was alright to just think that, hope for that, and hope for something else as well. And I felt at peace.

I’m sorry to my ex if you’re reading this, you did nothing wrong, you were the best guy anyone could ask for... I’m just gay. And it’s time for me to accept it once and for all. 

Oh and thank you to anyone who read it until the end. I’m sorry I had to vent here, but I felt like I had to write it somehwere. Thank you for being patient with me!

[wherevermyway]

i just want you to know who i am. // binchan // oneshot // 18+

pairing: bang chan x seo changbin | bang chan x hwang hyunjin (mentioned) rating: explicit | 18+ ⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ tags/warnings: graphic depictions of violence, transphobia/misgendering, trans male character, internalised homophobia, implied rape / non-con mention, suicidal thoughts, unhealthy relationships, explicit sexual content, slurs (like, two). word count: 8,229 also on AO3!

originally published: 31 october 2020

Bang Chan forced himself through almost three decades of shoving himself into the wrong box, being uncomfortably forced into whatever roles society deemed worthy for him. It doesn't surprise most people when he comes out as trans, but it bothers his boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin, the most. Hyunjin is outwardly outspoken about Chan, too afraid of being labelled as gay when his boyfriend comes out, and he constantly lets Chan know this: talking down to him, misgendering him, calling him slurs, and deadnaming him. One day, Chan has enough. If nobody was going to accept him, what was the fucking point? He fully intends on taking his life one night as he angrily, desperately rushes to the bridge that overlooks the Han River.

He plans on it, that is, until a complete stranger comes up and saves his life. Literally.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

“I’m not gonna be fucking gay, alright?” A lanky blond man says with a scoff, aggressively carding his fingers through his hair as he nervously paces back and forth. “Look, Chun-hwa, I—“

“It’s Chan. Please, Hyunjin, I keep telling you, stop calling me that name. It’s not who I am.”

“Whatever,” the man grumbles. “You know what it’s gonna be like if the guys find out? If they think my girlfriend suddenly thinks she’s a dude?”

The brunette on the couch sighs, dipping his head into his hands. “Hyunjin, you knew. You’ve known for years. I don’t know why, all of a sudden, the medication is what’s causing problems. You handled my top surgery.” His voice breaks as he curls into himself, trying to hide from the situation at hand, make himself small. “I’ve tried to start this so many times, to tell you I was finally starting the medication, but I was afraid you’d react this way.”

“Chun-hwa, this is bullshit.” Hyunjin gritted through his teeth, deliberately using the wrong name again, which called Chan to wince. “I told you,” he threw his hands in the air and raised his voice, “I’m not gonna be labelled as some stupid homo for dating a fucking tranny. The guys are gonna fuckin’ kill me if they find out you’re not just a tomboy or some shit.”

Chan bites his lip back, his face scowling into a frown. “Hyunjin!” He shouts, finally snapping. “Why the fuck do you care more about what they think, versus how I feel? This isn’t something I can choose. If I could just live my life as a normal, heterosexual woman, I totally would. Trust me.” A deep sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head. “Life isn’t that easy, though. I’m never gonna be that woman you want me to be, because I was never a woman to begin with.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and pads off into the kitchen, digging around the refrigerator. He pulls out a bottle of soju and chugs nearly half of it in one go. Chan gets up, following him into the kitchen. He stands in the entryway, folding his arms as he watches Hyunjin. “Stuffing this down with alcohol isn’t gonna make you feel better in the long run. It won’t make it go away, even temporarily.”

“Fuck you,” Hyunjin grumbles, taking another swig from the bottle, and another one, until the bottle is totally empty. His face winces and he tosses the bottle into the sink, causing it to crash and chip, a couple shards of green glass flying upwards, some ricocheting and landing on the floor. He angrily opens the fridge again, grabbing a can of beer and chugging it. “I just want my friends to think I’m normal, that I’m fine, that I’m not stuck with some…”

Hyunjin pauses and the air grows tense. He nervously looks at Chan, then quickly darts his eyes to the wall, looking as if he was desperately trying to bore a hole into it. Hyunjin was about to say something he knew that Chan would hate, and he still had some semblance of respect to stop himself. Some, but not much.

“Say it.” Chan’s voice is dark, but calm. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever Hyunjin was going to say, but he knew it was coming. Chan didn’t expect Hyunjin to actually say anything horribly offensive, but he tensed as Hyunjin took a long swig from the can in his hands. The blond man took a couple steps closer to Chan, his boozy breath nauseatingly permeating the air as he sticks his bony finger into Chan’s shoulder.

“Stuck with a fucking queer.” Hyunjin sneers, his voice quiet, but colder than ice. He gets closer into Chan’s face, staring him down, then moves back a bit and spits on his feet.

Chan sarcastically scoffs, turning on his heel and making his way towards the front door. “I can’t believe I’ve dealt with you for so goddamned long, Hyunjin.” There was no way he could handle such shitty behaviour anymore. He couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t. Hyunjin was the last person he had, and he just broke the last straw that was keeping Chan sane.

“Where are you going?” Hyunjin slurs after Chan, arms wide open in the air, beer sloshing to the floor from his open can.

“I’m done.” He lets out a nervous chuckle and grabs his keys from off of the wall rack, slipping a pair of flat trainers on. “I’m done with you, I’m done with this, I’m done with everything.”

“Chun-hwa—“

“Stop calling me that!” Chan shouts, grabbing a thick, heavy boot off of the shoe rack and angrily tossing it directly at Hyunjin’s head, the heel hitting him square in the forehead. The collision causes him to lose the grip from his can of beer, making it topple to the ground and spill its remnants all over the floor, the echoing ringing loudly in the apartment. “I’m not gonna be a fucking problem for you anymore, so just be happy for fucking once. You’ll never have to see me again, alright? Go meet some woman who won’t be just another ‘fucking queer’.”

Hyunjin grabs his forehead, staring at Chan for a moment, his face dumbstruck and mouth agape.

“Are you going to say something? Anything at all? Are you going to think about anyone but yourself and your shitty fucking friends? Think about your fucking boyfriend for once?” Chan shakes his head, but Hyunjin offers nothing in response. Chan desperately wanted his boyfriend to say something, but, like always, nothing came to fruition. He was always the one that had to put in the effort, and when things got tough, Hyunjin did nothing. He never did anything. “Fine,” the older man scoffs, grumbling under his breath and opening the door, letting it practically fly off of the hinge. “I sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, honestly hope you die alone, Hyunjin. Alone, cold, and in a bed of regret.”

Hyunjin continues to say nothing as Chan slams the door shut and runs down the stairwell, tears spilling from his eyes. Why nobody accepted him was beyond him. He told his parents two years ago, and he hasn’t heard from them since. He told his close friends, and they treated him like a leper, like he carried some sort of terrifying, incurable, transmittable disease. To be dismissed by someone like his boyfriend after all of these years hurt the most, honestly. Hyunjin was the only person he had left, even though their relationship was nothing more than toxic sludge.

None of this mattered. Soon, none of it would matter anymore, not to Chan, not to anyone. Nothing fucking mattered.

Tears sting, burning like battery acid, as they roll down Chan’s face involuntarily. He gazes far down the Han River, watching the city lights dance on the lapping waves, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. He takes in a deep, long sniffle, and digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands. A small tremble kept coursing through his veins, causing him to lightly shake as he stared. He just needed a little bit more courage. He could do this. He would drift his way down the Han River, and then he wouldn’t be anyone’s problem anymore, he just needed the courage to fucking do it.

The soft scent of acrid mint and floral tobacco pulls Chan from his thoughts. A shorter man with neatly trimmed, dark black hair is suddenly standing next to him, offering him a burning white stick. “You look like you could use this,” the man exhales, a puff of smoke escaping his lungs, deliberately rolling up through his nose. They didn’t make eye contact, but there was a form of nonverbal exchange going on between them. “Nobody comes out to the Seongsu Bridge at three in the morning with good intentions. Wanna talk about it?”

Chan gasps, a bit flabbergasted. He eyes the cigarette, then mutters a hushed “fuck it” under his breath, taking it and pulling a long drag off of it. “Oh, shit,” he sputters through coughs. “God, that’s bad.”

“Sorry,” the other man scoffs, sticking another cigarette between his lips. He pulls out a black lighter, flicking the flimsy metal dial a few times until white smoke billowed up from his mouth. “I was in your shoes once — well, maybe not exactly where you are, but close enough — a couple years ago. I sat on the handrail and waited. Not sure what I was waiting for, exactly, but I was waiting.” He sighs and scratches his forehead, turning to look towards, but not directly at, Chan. “There was a guy that came up and saved my life. He just came to talk to me, and I realized that this was a stupid, permanent way to fix a temporary problem. My job, and losing it, wasn’t my entire personality, even though society made it seem that way.”

Chan lets the cigarette burn between his fingers, transfixed in the way the white smoke softly danced its way up into the sky, eventually completely evaporating and disappearing. “My existence is a mistake.” He didn’t mean to be so blunt about it, but it fell from his lips before he could really think about it. “My family hates me, my friends think I’m diseased, and my boyfriend,” he scoffs, bringing the cigarette to his mouth and takes in a deep inhale, “I guess he’s my ex-boyfriend, now. He’s more concerned about his appearance to his friends and what they think about him compared to what I actually think and feel.”

The mysterious man cocks his head to the side briefly and offers a noncommittal grunt. “Sounds like ‘ex’ is a good title for him, then.”

A soft chuckle puffs out from Chan’s lips. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s not a good person for a lot of shitty reasons; should’ve left him years ago.” They sit there for a few minutes, letting their cigarettes burn between their fingertips and eventually die out. “I don’t get it, man.” Chan tosses the end of his cigarette over the railing, watching it fall down towards the river, slowly getting smaller and smaller, until it’s completely invisible. Gone. Lost forever.

“Get what?”

Chan’s eyes glimmer as he looks up towards the sky, letting his hands drape over the fencing of the bridge, dancing so close to where the promise of eternal comfort lie ahead of him. “Why do people have such a fucking problem with what makes someone else happy if it doesn’t affect them, you know?” He finally turns his head to look at the man next to him. They make eye contact and just stare at each other for a moment, letting their emotions communicate nonverbally.

There was a layer of pain behind the stranger’s eyes, almost like he understood the pain and helplessness that Chan was feeling, all without saying a word. The man sticks an arm out, presenting an open hand. “Seo Changbin. I don’t have the answer to your question, but I suppose you’d at least wanna know my name.”

Chan looks down, then back up to Changbin’s eyes, grabbing his hand with a firm grasp. “Bang Chan. Nice to meet you, Changbin.”

The two men smile at each other warmly, keeping their hands grasped together for a moment too long, but neither of them react negatively. “I know we just met, but,” Changbin says, softly tugging at Chan’s hand, “there’s a coffee shop not too far from here that I love going to early in the morning, since there’s never anyone there and the coffee actually tastes good.”

Chan doesn’t stop the man from pulling him along, doesn’t let go of his soft, warm hand. A gentle smile slowly grows upon his face. When was the last time someone was so nice to him, anyways? “Alright, that sounds like a plan.” He might have come here to die, but he was walking away feeling, ironically, more alive than ever.

The two guys sit at a dimly lit table near the entrance of the cafe, inhaling the aroma of freshly-brewed pour over coffee. Everything suddenly seemed more vibrant since Changbin literally pulled Chan away from the brink of death. Colours were vividly radiant, scents were more prominent, the lights were brighter, uncomfortably so.

“Hey, Chan,” Changbin says, bringing the clear mug up to his face and taking a soft sip of the warm coffee, steam enveloping his face. “I wanna ask you something, if that’s alright.”

Chan drops a cube of sugar into his coffee and aimlessly stirs it around with a tiny spoon, gently breaking up the cube and watching it slowly dissolve. “Sure, sure, what’s up?” He never liked coffee. Should’ve ordered the tea, he briefly pondered, watching the liquid swirl.

Changbin looks away, staring out the window, watching the morning passersby move with purpose down the sidewalk. “You said your existence is a mistake.” The words cause Chan to look up at Changbin, whose eyes flit back from the window to make eye contact. He dips his head down and to the side a bit. “Why is that? Why do you think you’re a mistake?”

“Oh,” the older man bites his cheek, breaking eye contact and clearing his throat. “I just…” He wasn’t sure how to answer that, grazing his thumb against the indentations of the spoon’s handle. “I wasn’t born right,” he sighs, but doesn’t elaborate.

“You weren’t ‘born right’?” Changbin presses, setting his mug down on the saucer in front of him, folding his hands together and resting his chin on his fingers. “I know it’s probably a heavily-detailed, incredibly personal question, but, if you don’t mind elaborating, what do you mean by that?”

Chan brings the cup of coffee to his lips with his right hand, taking a long, deep drink of the lightly bitter, vanilla-scented liquid. For not liking coffee, he had to admit that it wasn’t actually bad. He sets the glass back down and looks directly at Changbin, taking in a long, deep inhale, and makes sure to speak in a hushed voice. “I was born a woman, biologically speaking. ‘Assigned female at birth’ is the more correct term, that’s what people keep telling me.” Chan studies Changbin’s face, which doesn’t falter, so he continues. “Neither my family, nor my friends really tried to understand it. They all abandoned me immediately. My ex, though, was the hardest hit by it. He tried to care for a while, but then he started to call me these terrible things, only worried about how my expression and appearance would affect him and his new friends.” Chan scoffed. “It’s stupid. Not fair. So, I always figured I was a mistake. Everyone treated me like I was a mistake.”

Changbin eyes Chan’s free hand and takes in a deep breath, letting his hand fall directly onto the hand on the table, loosely gripping it. “Chan,” he softly says, soothingly, deliberately looking the older man in the eyes, “you’re not a mistake. Nobody is born a mistake.” The two of them lock eyes and stare at each other, exchanging glances of pain, misery, and understanding. “We just blossom into who we really are, and sometimes, people can’t handle the real, true us. If they can’t handle who we really are, then what’s the fucking point? Why keep them around if it only ends in misery for us, and they lose nothing?”

It had been so long since someone looked at Chan with empathy instead of resentment, and the realization of that caused his stomach to burn uncomfortably. The strange warmth spread across Chan’s abdomen, and he glanced down to Changbin’s hand, then back up to his face. The way they exchanged glances was oddly calming, like Chan could be comfortable telling this stranger almost anything, and he wouldn’t be judged. Changbin made Chan feel alive for the first time in months. Years, actually. For the first time, he didn’t have to try to put on a façade of who he really was; it felt like Changbin accepted him for who he was with a single glance.

“Changbin,” Chan breathed out, knitting his brows together and mustering up the courage to grasp the younger man’s hand a little tighter. “You’re completely right.” The two of them exchanged a glance that spoke more than words could tell. It was an exchange that said ‘I’m broken, but thank you for listening, for trying to understand.’ His eyes started to water, tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyelids. It hurt, but it was paradoxically relieving for him to feel this way.

“I’ve got a lot of problems, too,” Changbin sighed, but deliberately grabbed Chan’s hand a bit tighter. “It’s hard enough to come out as gay here. The guy that saved me? We became close friends, but he quickly regretted it when I misinterpreted the signals he gave off and I told him I had feelings for him.” His eyes rolled down to an insignificant stain on the table. “It’s been nearly a year, and I still haven’t heard from him, even though he saved my life. I thought he really cared, but he showed his true colours and then he was gone.” The younger man took a long sip from his mug, and stared into the ripples of the coffee as he set it back down.

“I’m sorry, man,” Chan sighed with sincerity, rubbing the back of Changbin’s bony hand with his thumb, but he did not relent. “Fuck him. Fuck him for not accepting you. Fuck him for not being a good person when you needed him most, not respecting you enough to at least politely turn you down.”

Changbin met Chan’s eyes again, this time with more determination, and he let out a quick huff before finishing the warm beverage in his mug. They stared at each other for a few moments, and it was like there was a silent agreement between them.

“Are you done with your coffee?” Changbin asked, but the true meaning of his question sounded more like “do you want to go home with me?”

The ‘yes’ that Chan whispered was a double entendre: it was a ‘yes’ to the question about his coffee, and a ‘yes’ to Changbin’s unspoken question.

“Honestly,” Chan muttered, inanely scratching the handle of the mug with his thumbnail, “I’m not a huge fan of coffee. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad, I just didn’t wanna say no.”

Changbin pulls Chan up by the hand as he makes his way to his feet. He steps around the table and stops right up next to Chan’s ear and whispers. “Don’t make yourself smaller or less than for anyone. Ever.”

It doesn’t take long for them to make their way back to Changbin’s apartment, only a block and a half away from the cafe. In fact, if Chan had actually looked out the living room window, he’d be able to see the streetlight of the cafe and the spot where Changbin saved him. Instead, he was too busy letting Changbin pin him up against the kitchen wall. The soft light of the start of daybreak illuminated the kitchen, spilling rays of orange and purple onto both of them.

“You look incredible,” Changbin whined, biting at Chan’s bottom lip. “Handsome. Gorgeous.” He panted, whined, dragged his fingers through Chan’s hair. “I want to drown myself in you, Chan, drown myself in you if you’ll let me.”

Chan forgets how to breathe for a moment, the tightness in his abdomen causing him to feel lightheaded. He was nervous, but the burning feeling of desire overwhelmed the nervousness. “Changbin,” he whines, allowing his teeth to graze against the bottom lip of the man in front of him.

“I only want to do what you’re comfortable with,” Changbin whispers, trailing his right hand down from Chan’s neck to his waist, finger hooking in the tip of his hipbone, causing the older man to buck into him involuntarily. “I want you to tell me to stop if you need me to. But I also want to hear you long for me tonight, to cry out my name, to piss off the neighbours.”

Something about Changbin’s words drove Chan insane. “I trust you,” he whines. He shouldn’t be so trusting after knowing someone for maybe a couple of hours, but there was something about this stranger that made Chan feel more comfortable in his own skin than his ex-boyfriend of several years did. He did, after all, save him from jumping off of a bridge. All bets were off for now; Chan had nothing to lose. “It’s fine, it’s fine, I want you, Changbin. Please.”

That’s all it takes. Changbin brings both of his hands to Chan’s hips and effortlessly, somehow, lifts Chan up off of the the wall. Chan wraps his legs around Changbin’s waist, dragging his tongue against Changbin’s bottom lip. The two of them haphazardly make their way towards Changbin’s bedroom together, lazily pressing their lips together.

“I want you, Bin,” Chan whines, peeling his hoodie and shirt off as soon as he hits the plush of the comforter. “Changbin. Please, please, please. I need you.” The pitch black enveloping him in darkness gave him an extra air of confidence, making him feel like he could fully lose himself within the moment as he ran his fingers down his torso, taking an extra moment to scan his fingertips against the scars on his chest, hoping Changbin wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t linger too long on his imperfections.

Changbin grumbles as he straddles the older man, pressing his lips against Chan’s neck. “Patience, baby,” he whispers, peeling his own shirt off, then quickly returning his teeth to Chan’s soft flesh. He lets his hands run up against Chan’s abdomen, paying special attention to how exactly Chan responded to each soft, gentle touch Changbin offered. He was so attentive, making sure that nothing was too out of place, making sure that nothing was too uncomfortable.

“Ah, wait, Changbin.” There it was, the tone of Chan’s voice. That was the protest that the younger man was waiting for. “Are you sure you want to do something like this with me? I’m not really…” Chan’s voice trailed off in discouragement. “I’m not a real—“

“Shut up,” Changbin counter-protested, his voice breathy and slightly annoyed, pressing his lips against Chan’s. “Don’t you dare try to tell me you’re ‘not a real man’ or some dumb shit like that.”

“But,” Chan whined, subconsciously rutting his hips up into Changbin’s pelvis. “It’s true, I’m not.”

“Chan,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes, “please, just shut up. You’re as real of a man as you identify yourself to be.” He pressed a soft kiss up against the older man’s warm cheek, then nuzzled his forehead against it. “Don’t invalidate yourself like that, because it’s just going to make you feel like shit. If you don’t want to do this, then tell me. If you’re just going to invalidate yourself, I don’t want to hear it and I won’t do this.”

The brunette swallowed hard, his eyes nervously scanning the ceiling as he felt the younger man’s breath on his neck. “I don’t want you to stop,” he whispers, “I’m just nervous. It’s been so long, and I don’t like…” His voice trails off and he sighs. “Honestly, if we’re gonna do this, can you just, fuck — wow, this is awkward to ask — but, can you just fuck me like a normal dude? Pretend that all of the frontal anatomy just doesn’t exist? I don’t want to even think about it.” He shakes his head. “It’s too much.”

Changbin pulls back, bringing his hands to the sides of Chan’s face and deliberately making eye contact with him. “Of course. I told you, anything to make you comfortable. I’ll go slowly. I’ll admit,” Chan sees the whites of his eyes shift, as if he was looking away for a moment, “I’ve never been with someone that’s trans. So if I do something wrong, tell me.”

Chan sighs, not out of irritation, but relief. “Of course. Can we do this now?”

Changbin reaches over Chan, pulling his nightstand’s drawer open. He grabs a condom and a bottle of lube, then sits back on his heels. “Have you ever done this before?”

Finally, a bit of confidence, likely from the darkness of the room hiding his body, rushes through Chan, and he offers a bit of a cocky smirk. “I ride dick like it’s my last day on earth, every time. Trust me,” he sits up and grabs Changbin by the waist, “I’ve done this before. I’ve done a handful of freaky things before. You’d be surprised to know what I haven’t done, honestly.”

A breathy gasp leaves Changbin’s lips and he swallows hard. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, not in the slightest. “You w-what?”

After some careful preparation and stretching, it doesn’t take long for Chan to take Changbin fully inside of him, causing the younger man beneath him to let out a small whine. “Fucking tight,” he whimpers, digging his fingernails into Chan’s hips. “You feel incredible. So good.”

Chan smirks. “I told you.” He puts both hands on the bed, on either side of Changbin’s neck, allowing him to roll his hips up and down slowly, in controlled movements. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I can, ah,” Changbin tightly closes his eyes and rolls his head into the pillow behind him, “fuck, Chan, I can feel that.”

The brunette dips his head down, pressing his lips to the younger man’s. Changbin responds by grabbing the back of Chan’s neck, pulling him in closer, and he aggressively jams his tongue in between his lips. They explore each others’ mouths with purpose, both of them still faintly tasting like coffee and menthol cigarettes.

“Changbin,” Chan whines, drawling out the last syllable of his name.

A grin is painted upon the younger man’s face at the sound of his name. “Say it again. It sounds so fucking good when you say my name like that.”

Chan complies. He complies repeatedly, grinding up against Changbin’s pelvis, his length filling him and causing all of the nerves in his body to light up. He’d never fucked like this before, nothing so passionate or romantic in his life. All of his experiences were lacklustre with Hyunjin, who never fucked him the way he wanted to be fucked. It was all about Hyunjin.

Tonight, it was all about Chan. It was all about how well he and Changbin blended together, and Chan couldn’t get enough of it.

A week and a half passes, and Chan can’t bring himself to leave Changbin’s apartment. The younger man doesn’t mind, of course, he’s happy to give Chan as much time as he needs to figure out what exactly he needs to do.

It was a bit awkward at first, since Changbin’s apartment only has one bedroom, and Changbin doesn’t keep a large enough couch for either of them to sleep on. “We’ve already slept with each other,” Chan pondered aloud one day while he was scrubbing some dishes in the sink, “why bother not sleeping in the same bed?”

Their relationship dynamic was strange, but it worked. They had spent several nights staying up far too late, going for walks downtown and talking about the complexities that life had to offer. Chan would link arms with Changbin, they would share a cigarette with each other, and all of Chan’s problems would just come spilling out.

Things came so naturally to both of them. They would usually get to the well-lit touristy spot in Cheonggyecheon, staring down the river, watching people meander about and the lights illuminating the ripples in the water. That’s where Chan would open up more and more about himself and the horrible experiences he had with his family, friends, and Hyunjin.

“You know,” Changbin took a long pull from the cigarette in his fingertips, then let the smoke lazily escape his lips, “if I ever meet this guy, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”

“Changbin,” Chan pressed, half-serious.

“I’m not kidding, dude,” the black-haired man cocked his head, looking up at Chan over the rim of his glasses. “He has the balls to constantly misgender you, treat you as less-than, and now you’re telling me he would get drunk and beat you for fun? What the fuck is wrong with this guy?”

Chan sighed, taking the cigarette from between Changbin’s fingers and putting it between his lips. “I know, I know. It’s bad timing, but,” his voice trails off, and he turns his head to look down the river, “I need to go back and get my stuff from his apartment. My legal paperwork and some clothes and stuff.”

“I’m going with you.” It’s a statement. Changbin doesn’t bother asking. He grips the handrail with both hands, his knuckles turning white. “I’m not letting you be there alone.”

“He’ll be at work, Bin.”

“I don’t care,” he spits out, a bit harsher than he intended. “He’s violent. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone in a space where you can’t easily get away from him.”

Chan bites back a retort; he knew that Changbin was right. The two of them stare off into the dark water for a few moments, until Chan deeply sighs. “Fine. We can go tomorrow around noon. I’ll text him tomorrow and tell him we’re coming over before we show up, just so he knows.”

“That’s a stupid idea, Chan.” Changbin grits his teeth and scowls.

“I know. But it’s the right thing to do.”

Changbin scoffs. “That’s typical of you, dove, always looking out for the greater good before taking yourself into consideration.”

Chan squints his eyes in confusion. “‘Dove’?”

“Oh,” Changbin chews on his cheek. “I didn’t even think about that, it just slipped out. Anyway, you know how there’s tales in the West about how seeing a dove with an olive branch is a symbol of peace?”

“Yeah, what’s that gotta do with me?”

Changbin turns his head towards Chan and smiles softly, light reflecting off of his glasses. “You’re too good for people like me, and especially Hyunjin. You’re calming, peaceful. Besides,” he reaches over and grabs Chan’s hand, interlacing their fingers together, “it sounds cooler than ‘baby’ or some other overused pet name, yeah?”

Chan chuckled and smiled, looking down at their hands, how well they fit together, how right it seemed. It had only been a week and a half, but he was starting to fall for this man.

Changbin grips the steering wheel of Chan’s car tightly with his left hand, softly grabbing Chan’s leg with his right hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“I need my belongings, Changbin.” Chan tried to sound confident as he stared at the car parked in front of them, but his voice wavers a bit. “I can’t keep wearing the same things and I can’t keep living off of you. It’s been nearly two weeks.”

Changbin sighs as he turns to look at Chan. “I’m going in there with you.”

“I can do this myself, Changbin, I promise.”

“I told you yesterday and I’m not changing my mind. He’s hurt you before, Chan.”

Chan bites his lip and looks down to his knees, subconsciously grabbing Changbin’s hand. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not asking. He could be there, react poorly, and try and kill you.”

Chan sighs, looking up at Changbin with tears in his eyes. “Fine, fine,” he relents, “just be careful. If he’s here, Hyunjin has a temper and he’s not gonna like this.”

“To be frank,” Changbin lets go of the steering wheel, undoing his seatbelt. “I don’t give a shit what he thinks, dove. I don’t know if this is the real thing or not, but I’m gonna protect you.” He lifts himself up off of the seat a bit, grabbing Chan’s face and pulling him in closely. He brushes his lips softly up against the older man’s, only for a brief moment, before pulling back and staring at him with purpose. “You deserve to be happy and safe.”

Chan furrows his brows as he stares at Changbin. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know, dude, it’s a gut feeling.” The two of them sit there and stare at each other for a second, then Chan softly laughs.

“I’ll let you have that. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and he won’t even be here.”

“I certainly hope not.”

Chan turned his key in the door, unlocking it and pushing it open. Unfortunately for them, Hyunjin was there, and he was furious. The blond hastily undoes his necktie and lackadaisically discards it on the floor, reeling as he scowls at Chan, glowering at him.

“Chun-hwa, I had to leave work early for this shit.” Hyunjin’s voice was laden with venom. He took a couple of heavy footsteps towards Chan, gripping his fist tightly, until he saw Changbin step in to the side of Chan and he froze in his tracks. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He scoffs, his face wrinkling up in disbelief. “Who the fuck is this? You think you can just bring some manwhore into my house?”

“Back off,” Changbin dryly says, stepping in front of Chan and adjusting his shoulders, rolling them back. Posturing. “Chan is here to collect his things. You give him any problems, and you’ll be answering to my fists.”

Hyunjin looks at both of them and lets out a throaty laugh. “Are you fucking kidding, shortie? I could kick your ass just by looking at you funny.”

Changbin cocks an eyebrow up, placing his hands on his hips. A faint smirk curls up on the right side of his face as he slightly turns his head towards Chan, not breaking eye contact with Hyunjin. “Go grab your things. Don’t worry about this string bean-looking asshole.”

“He looks thin, Changbin, but Hyunjin is tough. And fast.” Chan takes a hand and places it on Changbin’s shoulder, but the younger man doesn’t react. He leans in closer, right up to Changbin’s ear, and whispers. “I told you, he’s beaten me senseless before. He’s more of a threat than you’d think.”

“Not worried about it. Go, Chan.” Changbin pops the knuckles of his fingers and rolls his neck around. “Ready to teach this motherfucker a lesson.”

Changbin’s quip causes Hyunjin to roll his eyes and dismissively shake his head. “Yeah, believe it when I see it, shithead.”

Chan takes a moment, contemplating if he should intervene, but he decides against it. He figures that Changbin is a grown adult, and he can make decisions for himself, even if that meant he was potentially going to get his face rearranged. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he whispers, then moves towards the back of the apartment, towards his old bedroom. The bedroom he shared with Hyunjin. The bedroom that caused his heart to drop into the pit of his stomach with every step he took closer and closer to it; old, negative memories resurfacing.

Hyunjin eyes Chan as he walks past. “You’re not just gonna walk past me and pretend like I don’t exist, Chun-hwa.” Changbin’s eyes roll down to Hyunjin’s feet, watching the micro-movements his toes were making. As soon as the side of his right foot twitched, his toes turning towards Chan, Changbin stopped paying attention to whatever nonsense Hyunjin was sputtering off. It was time to move.

He swiftly rushed forward, reaching his left hand out to grab Hyunjin’s collar, winding his right hand back in a tight fist. “What the fuck?” Hyunjin barely had enough time to react before Changbin’s fist collided into his cheekbone, causing the younger man to let out a strained groan. The blond regained his composure, then kneed the black-haired man in the stomach in response, causing him to curl into himself a bit, but he refused to falter.

Changbin’s grip on Hyunjin’s collar loosened only briefly. He reoriented himself upright and grabbed the other side of his collar with his right hand and threw him into the kitchen table just off to the right-hand side. The paraphernalia intricately placed on the table went flying, including a glass vase that clattered to the floor and shattered into what looked like a thousand pieces.

“You fucking dweeb,” Hyunjin grunts against the table, “you can’t do shit to me with those tiny arms.”

“You wanna fucking bet?” Changbin lifts Hyunjin up and rams him back into the table. “Looks like you’re the one in a compromising position here, dude.”

Hyunjin scowls, kicking the older man in the shin to distract him, then reaches up to his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and throwing his free fist into his cheek. “I’m gonna rearrange your fucking face, you prick.”

Chan sucked in some air through his teeth, physically cringing as he heard the men roll around, grumbling and shouting, their fists colliding into each other. He tried so hard to just ignore what was happening behind him. He shakes his head a couple of times before he starts haphazardly throwing his important belongings into some bags.

Hyunjin and Changbin wrestle around a bit more, a couple of fists to the face, a couple of knees to the stomach. Chan tries so hard to ignore the throaty grunts and the sharp cries coming from both of them. He just needed his important documents, his favourite sweatshirt, some clothing. He compromised: the photos of the family and friends that rejected him could stay behind. It would slow him down and he didn’t need that kind of negativity in his life. Not anymore. Not when he knew they weren’t worth the mental energy, when he could fill that negative void with new people that accepted him and loved him for who he was.

Chun-hwa had finally died at the Seongsu Bridge the night he was saved, and a new, revitalized Chan was born from the ashes of the person he used to be. It was time to leave the negativity behind, once and for all. Let it all die in this shitty apartment with the remnants of the relationship with his shitty ex-boyfriend.

“Wait a minute. I’ve seen you before, I remember your name now.” Changbin wipes some blood off from under his lip, stumbling backwards a bit. “I finally realized who you are.” He punctuates his sentence with a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “How ironic.”

Hyunjin’s eyes grow wide as he holds the back of his hand up against his bleeding nose.

“That gay bar down in Itaewon. You hit on my friend, who was very much taken, and so were you.” A nervous scoff comes from Hyunjin. “Felix wanted nothing to do with you, but you kept hitting on him. Unlike you, Felix was, and still is, happily committed and out to his partner. Yet, you treat your ex-boyfriend like shit because you didn’t like him identifying as a man. If I recall correctly, it was because you didn’t want your friends to think you were gay. Interesting, isn’t it?”

Chan steps out of the bedroom, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “What did you just say? Did I just hear you correctly?” His voice sounds pained and confused. Changbin turns around for a moment, surprised to hear Chan come up from behind him.

This was his opportunity. Hyunjin grabs a thin, hardcover book off of the table from behind him, blood spilling down from his nose, and he runs up to Changbin and brings the book crashing into the side of his face. There was enough force to cause the older man to fall to the ground with a sharp cry. Hyunjin angrily throws the book at the wall in front of him and stares over at Chan as Changbin brings a hand to his face and whines.

“I’m not letting you leave this fucking place alive. You hear me?” Hyunjin’s voice is dark, but flat. All of the light in his eyes had evaporated, and Chan froze in place. He had been here before, seen that look in Hyunjin’s eyes. He so desperately wanted to run, hide in the washroom or the bedroom, but he was frozen in place, like someone had glued his feet to the floor.

“Hyunjin,” Chan softly whines, bringing his hands up to cover his face, to hide away from the impending attack he was about to receive, “Hyunjin, please, don’t do this.”

“Shut up, you stupid cunt.” Hyunjin spits out, taking a slow, deliberate step towards Chan. “Cheating on me with some stupid gay dude. Running away from me for almost two weeks. How fucking dare you bring another man into my house?”

Changbin shakes his head and snaps back to reality, managing to grab Hyunjin’s ankle before he walks out of reach.

“The fuck?” The blond stops, looking down to Changbin and he shakes his leg, but is unable to free himself from the smaller man’s grasp.

“I’m stronger than you. You’re going to regret treating Chan like shit.” That’s all Changbin says before he musters all of his strength to pull Hyunjin to the ground. The younger man loses his footing, colliding down to the ground with a thick thud. Chan pulls his hands away from his face, and his mouth drops as he watches the two of them.

Hyunjin may have been terrifying to Chan when he was angry, but seeing Changbin like this was petrifying. The black-haired man’s expression was flat, calculated, and a deep bruise was starting to form where Hyunjin crashed the book into his face. He crawled over Hyunjin, lifting his head up by his blond hair with both of his hands, then rapidly brought it down to the floor, a loud thud echoing throughout the room.

Hyunjin cries out as he rolls his head around on the floor. “Stop it,” he sputters out, “just fucking stop!”

“How many times did Chan say that when you beat the shit out of him?” Changbin’s voice is quiet, calm. Too calm for this situation.

“W-what?”

Changbin lets out an irritated huff and raises his voice. “How many times did Chan beg for you to stop? Every time you beat him? Every time you assaulted him? Wait a second.” He lifts his head to look at Chan, his eyes piercing him with a strategic glance. “You mentioned something a few days ago that concerned me, but I never pressed the issue. Did this fucking prick ever rape you, Chan?”

Chan’s eyes widen and he looks down at the floor. “I…” His voice trails off, clearly avoiding the question.

“Chan.”

“Fuck you.” Hyunjin’s voice is garbled and he spits some blood into Changbin’s face. “She’s a fucking slut and isn’t worth your time.”

Changbin somehow ignores Hyunjin’s prodding, letting the bloody saliva drip down his cheek. “Chan. Answer me.”

A tear slips down Chan’s face as he shrinks into himself. Memories started to come flooding back of nights where Hyunjin got too drunk. The nights where Chan would try and correct Hyunjin’s terrible behaviour, how he’d quietly plead with him to refer to him as the correct name and gender. The nights where he’d wake up and Hyunjin would be there, hovering over him, clearly frustrated with Chan not wanting to sleep with him and —

“Chan!” Changbin’s voice is angry, loud. It’s distracting enough to bring Chan back to the situation at hand.

He slowly looks up, scanning every detail on the floor, trailing his way up to Hyunjin. There was no emotion on Chan’s face, nothing in his eyes, as he stared at the bloodied blond. “Don’t kill him, Changbin.” His voice is soft.

Weak.

Tired.

A beat passes and the implication of Chan’s words causes Changbin’s nostrils to flare in fury, and Hyunjin’s eyes grow wide, staring at Chan as if he were betrayed. “You fucking—“ Hyunjin tries to speak, but Changbin brings his fist against the younger man’s face. He does this several times, before Hyunjin goes limp, and blood spills from his nose and his face.

Changbin breathes heavily as he stares down at the bloodied man beneath him. His entire torso trembles from adrenalin, fear, anger, and shock.

“Is he alive?” Chan manages to squeak out.

“I…” Changbin shakes his head rapidly, trying to bring himself back to the moment. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. I think. He’s still breathing.”

Chan’s hands shake as he anxiously wrings his hands. “What the fuck was that, Changbin? That was more than a fist fight. More than protection.”

“He hurt you.” Changbin looks up at Chan, his expression no longer confident. Strangely enough, he looked terrified. “Chan, he abused you. He raped you, for fuck's sake. What else was I supposed to do?”

Chan bit his lip and folded his arms, not in irritation, but as if he was trying to comfort himself. “Have you done this before?”

“This badly?” Changbin looks down to Hyunjin and brings himself to his feet. “Only once. I had to defend myself against a few guys behind a bar once. I had to protect Felix. You learn to protect yourself against a world that doesn’t want you to exist. Against people that want you dead just because you’re happy. It’s why I’m so adamant about working out.” He looks up to Chan, but doesn’t advance towards him.

Chan is aggressively chewing on his lips, pulling dead skin off of them and causing his lips to drip blood. He watches Hyunjin’s head tilt to the side, blood dripping down his face, his lips and eyes starting to swell. “Changbin, that was fucking terrifying.”

“I’m so sorry, Chan. I didn’t mean to make this situation worse.”

Chan breathes in deeply, then gets enough courage to to look up at Changbin. “No, no,” his voice is shaky, “Hyunjin deserved it. Just, please, promise me you’ll never do that again unless you absolutely have to.”

Changbin sarcastically huffs. “I don’t like doing this, Chan. I just get protective over people I care about.” His eyes soften, tears starting to well up. “I’ll do anything to protect you, dove.”

Chan doesn’t say anything. He takes a shaky step forward, then another, his feet shuffling forward enough until he collides against Changbin’s chest. “Don’t hug me back,” he says as the younger man lifts his arms, “you’ve got blood all over your hands.”

The men stand in front of the kitchen sink, hastily cleaning most the blood off of their arms and faces. Chan gives Changbin a loose hoodie to cover his bloodied shirt. “Guess it’s a good thing I wore black pants today, huh?” Changbin’s quip causes Chan to roll his eyes.

They grab the hastily packed bags and two boxes and bring them down to Chan’s car.

“Is that everything you want?” Changbin slams the back door of the car a bit harder than he intended to.

“Yeah. I just wanna get out of here and shower. Get out of here before Hyunjin wakes up. Well, hopefully he wakes up.” Chan shakes his arms, trying to rid the nerves that were built up inside of them. “I want to go home with you and curl up in bed and forget all about this.”

Changbin says nothing as he walks up to Chan, he brings a hand up to his face, softly stroking his cheek with his thumb. They tiredly, longingly gaze into each others’ eyes for a few moments. “‘Home’, dove?”

“What?” Chan cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“You said you want to go home with me.”

“Oh,” Chan bites his sore lip and softly smiles. “I suppose I did, didn’t I?” Changbin smiles in response and nods his head once. “We’re doing this backwards, you know. We’re not even dating, and we’ve already fucked. You beat the shit out of my ex, rightfully so. And now I’m going to be staying with you, almost like I’m moving in with you. You even have a cutesy pet name for me.”

Changbin lifts himself up on to his toes and gently, briefly presses his lips against Chan’s. He pulls back, bouncing back on to his heels. “I just want you to be safe and comfortable. Even if we’re just roommates. Even if it ends in heartbreak. Just knowing I got you out of such a horrible place is good enough for me. Knowing I saved your life and helped give you a second chance, a chance to actually breathe, to be comfortable with who you are. That’s all I need.”

A deeper smile slowly creeps up on Chan’s face as he blushes and looks away from Changbin. He sucks in a quick breath, then shyly, quickly gives the black-haired man’s forehead a soft kiss. “You’re my nightlight.”

“What?” Changbin cocks his head to the side and his eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“I’m your dove, your sign of peace. You’re my nightlight: guiding me through the darkness. Keeping me safe from the unknown.” Chan bends down and quietly whispers something in Changbin’s ear, and it causes his eyes to grow wide.

“Did you just…?” The younger man stutters, his words barely coherent.

Chan smiles, pulling his key fob out of his front pocket. “Let’s go home, Binnie.”

[loser-writings]

You have some nice Omega headcanons. Any headcanon for Omega!Overhaul? I just can't see that pretty boy as an Alpha.

Authors note: I am so sorry but my headcanons for this are NOT going to be pretty. I want to say that ahead of time because I attempt to keep them as similar to the character in the Anime/Manga. That being said, there are 2 big, bold words that everybody needs to pay attention to here. Antisocial Sociopath. Sociopaths are absolutely terrifying, and I know it’s okay to look at a fictional character and believe they are attractive, but if you ever find yourself involved with or attracted to a sociopath, please take a step back and think if it’ll be healthy. I know I’m ruining the illusion or fun of these headcanons, but I just want to emphasise that this would be, in NO way, a healthy relationship. With that, please beware that this headcanon set will have very triggering material. Please beware before you begin reading.

Omega! Overhaul Headcanons

This man is on suppressants and refuses to act like an Omega. His true self is aggressive, manipulative, abusive, unsympathetic, and refuses to even say that he is an Omega outloud. You will NEVER find a nest because he finds the mere idea of them to be vile. He will never stop taking his suppressants. He will not do a damn word you say unless it suits him.

That being said, it is clear that he has a natural charm about him. It’s almost disgusting to see after you know the true Kai Chisaki, but this man can woo anybody over in a matter of minutes. People could easily fall for this man, and it’s no wonder why you did too. He will pull you in with false dreams and hopes for the future, only to destroy you and make sure that you know you are just a pawn to him now.

The only way he will even consider taking off his mask around you, is if you are quirkless. He views quirks as a curse. A Plague. An Infection. So if you don’t have a quirk, he may be a little more vulnerable, but that’s only because you aren’t as disgusting as the others who have a quirk. 

He will also order you to be the handler of Eri. He does this to get you attached to her and keep you under his control, because if you go out of line then that just means she gets disassembled for the hell of it. He also does the same with Eri, forcing her to obey or else he hurts you. 

If you have a quirk that is useless to him, he will force you to get rid of your quirk to prove your loyalty to him. If you don’t, he simply kills you. Those are your two options, and you know which one you pursue. In this scenario though, he will keep his mask and gloves on after. You HAD a quirk, and you still might be contagious.

He may also become physical with you. Bruises over your skin, cuts everywhere, and other imperfections will appear if you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Oh and He will control everything in your life. If you leave his side, he will have somebody with you at all times. Even when you think you’ve escaped, he is right on your tail. Once you become his, nothing will get between you. You won’t have a phone anymore. You will have to run EVERYTHING by him. And worst of all, nobody is allowed to touch you because he owns you. 

If he smells your scent on anybody else, or vise versa, you are in deep trouble. He is the kind who will put on an act to guilt trip you. He will belittle you and yell at you because “You should feel honored because he chose you, yet here you are playing with his feelings.” 

Another person who refuses to help you during ruts. Like it’s actually disgusting to him, but he also refuses to let anyone help you. He will end up locking food and water in your room only because you won’t be allowed to leave. 

Oh and Bonding marks? That’s also a no, chief. Like hell he will have you sink your fucking teeth into his neck like he is some sort of prey. He would much rather have his arms cut off before letting you do that. 

The only way you could escape is if you managed to run with Eri. Even then though, you will not be safe. You are only able to take a breath when you hear that Kai had been arrested, and that his hands were gone. No more worries for you. Maybe then, you and Eri can attempt to have a normal life.

Honestly, just imagine the DC Comics joker but with less laughter, and you get Kai. Cold, crazy, and abusive to all hell. Once you let him become your Omega, there is no turning back.

[k-s-morgan]

You have this idea that Harry needs to be obsessed with Tom to not leave him after the latter does something unforgivable, but I don’t see that as being true. Harry knows who he’s dealing with. And he is a man with a mission...I don’t imagine him ever abandoning it. Even if he didn’t love Tom he would stay because of his sense of duty towards his unborn loved ones. 2/8

Something I love in book Harry is that Voldemort’s darkness doesn’t faze him: “I won’t blast people out of my way just because they're there," said Harry. "That's Voldemort's job." 3/8

Like...where did that Harry go!? Your Harry seems to clutch at his pearls at the mere idea of Tom being a murdering asshole like... honey! That doesn’t make any sense.. he know this man all his life, saw the worst of him over and over again, the hell he’s surprised for?! And no, I am not buying the whole he was tricked by Tom’s oh so clever mask because book Harry is suspicious of everything! He gets obsessed! self-preservation mixed with a raw instinct that something isn’t right. 4/8

We teach people how to treat us. and Harry? He taught Tom to disregard his feelings. It’s the Dursleys all over again. unforgivable. 5/8

I was supposed to want harry and Tom to end up together but I don’t. No story I have read so far—no matter how messed up—managed to kill this ship for me, until I read this one. When they kissed I felt nothing. I suspect that when they finally end up together I won’t feel a thing either, you managed to kill any empathy I had towards the characters. 6/8

Sadly, I will stop reading your story. if you told me months ago that I would, I would’ve laughed out loud, but I just can’t be further disappointed anymore. I will forever treasure the first few chapters you posted, because they are perfect. It’s everything I felt as an obsessive/possessive child, but lately I felt nothing but a repulsed detachment from Harry’s constant whimpering. 7/8

If I learned something from my own experience it would be: Possessive people don’t need people who can’t handle their darkness, just keep that in mind, and please, please listen to criticism. You seem to only listen to people who agree with you, I saw you right off genuine criticism of Harry’s actions as silly frustration from your readership. It isn’t. You know something is wrong with your characterisation when more than one person gets hot and bothered about it. 8/8

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

I didn’t get the first part of your ask, so I’m publishing the ones that went through! Though to be honest, I’m not sure what you want me to tell you. I’m writing a dark and twisted story, one that’s definitely not for everyone. You can think or feel anything you do toward it - that’s normal. I’ve read my fair share of fics that made me rage-quit or made me depressed for days, and that’s fine, too, because we have our individual perceptions, likes, dislikes, and triggers.

I’m taken aback by your words that I shrugged off the criticism of Harry as silly. I addressed the message I got about it with respect and attention, writing an essay-long reply to explain my view and elaborate on my characterization. I don’t even consider this criticism, just differences in opinion: this is how I see canon Harry and the version he could become under certain circumstances. Harry was always forgiving. He was ready to move the world for people he loves. In WHGTB, he went back in time exactly because he wanted Tom to not grow up as Voldemort (and in many ways, he succeeded). In his understanding, he did everything in his power to make sure that Tom would not be a murderer, which is why he was stunned and devastated to learn that he failed here.There were no more victims after Beth, and Harry clings to the idea that his system is working, and that Tom will be able to hold himself off despite the situation he finds himself in. When Tom comes close to crossing the line, Harry is terrified, but he finds comfort in the thought that Tom stopped every time. Harry’s own morality became grey in this process, and to me, it’s believable in terms of his characterization. 

I don’t agree that Harry is doing “constant whimpering” - I see him as actively fighting for Tom in every way he can (until the end, where he can’t take it anymore and leaves). Tom might have out-played him for now in a long-term perspective, but for years, Harry remained victorious because Tom was forced to follow his rules. I think Harry has objective expectations: he doesn’t wait for Tom to suddenly develop empathy and become a compassionate person. But he expects Tom to differentiate between acceptable and unacceptable, and to act accordingly. He remains highly suspicious to Tom’s actions, but he never expected himself to be the active target of Tom’s plotting.

You can hate it, be angry about it, think it’s OOC - that’s the matter of your perception. I have another one, and my story is obviously based on it.  

Also, this part: “You know something is wrong with your characterisation when more than one person gets hot and bothered about it“ - actually, no, that absolutely doesn’t mean my characterization is wrong) It means it’s controversial enough to evoke different intense feelings in other people. Look at any semi-popular character in any book or movie - there will be lots of people arguing about their personality or decisions. That’s the beauty of fiction: it makes different people feel different things and reach different conclusions. 

I’m sorry you aren’t enjoying the story any more, but of course it’s your choice. It’s not like I’m forcing anyone to read it) Like I always say, to each their own.

Edited to add: Also, to others who might decide to send me similar messages: even if you’re polite about it, I might not reply to you because I believe I’ve said everything I could about this matter here and in this post. I don’t have anything to add)